> Pandemic
>  by ASGeek2012
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1 - Bad Hair Day
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura Tanner stared at her lightly freckled face in the bathroom mirror as she pulled the drawstrings of the hood of her jacket closed, the fabric encircling her face in a tight oval. Her blue-gray eyes betrayed doubt as she reflected on how much she did not feel like she had reached seventeen a month prior despite what the calendar said.

Her muted self-assessment was broken by a sudden fit of coughing. She took in her next breath slowly, gripping the edges of the sink until her sides no longer wanted to spasm. Of all the things about the flu she hated, nothing was worse than the lingering cough that never wanted to go away. She considered playing up on that at breakfast to get out of going to school that late March Monday morning, but she was already pushing it with the jacket. Not to mention she never could cough convincingly on demand, not like her little sister could.

Laura took a deep breath, silently cursing herself when it triggered another round of coughing, and turned to leave the bathroom. In the hall, she stopped at the sight of a shorter blond-haired girl standing with her arms folded.

"What?" Laura demanded.

"You're so fake," said the girl with a smirk.

Laura's frown deepened as she pushed past the girl. "I don't have time for this, Jenny."

Fourteen-year-old Jenny Tanner spun around, her long hair flying. "Yes, let's all make way for her Majesty the Queen! She has so many appointments that she has little time for the poor little peasant girl who--" Her voice strained and broke up into coughing.

"Yeah, see who the faker is now," Laura muttered.

Jenny tried to talk through her coughing. "Hey, I had the same flu you did, you know."

"Yeah, but you milked it for all it's worth."

Jenny paused until her coughing subsided. "And you're not doing the same now? Let me guess: you're going to claim you still have chills."

Laura sorely wished Jenny did not have an uncanny way of reading people like a book.

Jenny grinned. "Anyway, I know what's really wrong."

Laura's heart thumped. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I doooo!" Jenny sang.

Laura resolved not to let her little sister push her buttons that morning. She suspected this was just a fishing expedition, hoping that Laura would get riled up enough to drop hints. "Whatever you think is going on is of no concern to me," said Laura in a calm voice. "Now, excuse me, I'm heading downstairs."

Jenny slapped her hands together in a supplicating gesture, and her face took on an exaggerated pleading look. "Oh, but Your Majesty, what of this poor little peasant girl who may know things about the Queen that her adoring subjects would--"

"Oh, stuff it, Jenny!" Laura growled. "Don't involve me in your stupid little fantasies. At least I know how to act my age."

Jenny's face fell, her lips curling into a frown.

Laura felt some satisfaction that her little sister had that one button that could be reliably pushed. As she turned away, however, she realized she had pushed it so many times it had become worn with overuse, manifesting as a twinge of guilt. Had she not been dealing with her own problems, Laura likely would have rolled with it. Jenny could be entertaining at times, even if Laura thought her head was too much in the clouds.

Laura rushed down the stairs, pausing on the last stair to make sure her hood was in place before entering the kitchen, where she was welcomed by the aroma of sausage and frying eggs. Yet when she stepped inside, she drew up short when she did not see her mother standing at the stove.

"Um ..." Laura murmured.

A barrel-chested man with dark brown hair called out without turning around. "Morning, honey."

"Uh, morning, Dad," said Laura. "Where's Mom?"

"She was up real early as she had a site she had to visit," said Harold Tanner in a neutral voice.

"A site? I thought she was on hiatus from doing active digs."

"So did I," Harold muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. "She said she'd be back by this afternoon." He turned back to the stove for a moment before looking back at his daughter. "Laura, why on Earth are you still wearing that? You were wearing it all day yesterday."

Laura wrapped her arms around herself and pretended to shiver. "Still got some chills. Guess it's just leftover from the flu."

Harold's gray-eyed gaze remained on his daughter for another moment before he turned back to the stove. "I suppose you're looking to stay home from school another day."

Jenny wandered in as Laura replied, "No, actually, I'm not."

Jenny raised an eyebrow at her sister.

Laura allowed herself a little smirk. "Yeah, that's right, pipsqueak," Laura muttered. "I was intending to go to school all along."

Jenny shrugged.

"Laura, don't call your sister that," Harold said in a resigned tone that suggested this was not the first time such admonishment was dispensed and ignored. "Breakfast is almost ready, please go sit down."

Laura and Jenny headed into the dining room. Laura slid sedately into a seat while Jenny plopped herself into hers. "Her Majesty's schedule is too busy today to be bothered by such trifles as the lingering effects of prolonged illness," said Jenny. She paused a beat. "Or a problem with the royal coiffure."

Laura flinched. "What?"

"What would her subjects think?" continued Jenny in a voice as if she were giving a dramatic recitation. "Perhaps an evil fae has cast a spell upon her for her own amusement? Or would they suspect the Queen herself of being fae, her plans to enchant the kingdom now forever--"

"Jenny, shut up," Laura growled through clenched teeth.

Harold emerged from the kitchen with the pan of eggs. "Jenny, please, for one morning, don't annoy your sister."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let the Queen figure out her own problems."

"Thank you," both Laura and Harold said almost at the same time.

Jenny looked about the table. "But what of the royal squire? What is his fate this morning?'

Laura groaned. "What are you going on about now?"

After dispensing the eggs, Harold departed and returned with the pan of sausages. He had long since learned to decipher Jenny's speech when she was in one of these moods. He wouldn't openly admit it for fear of antagonizing Laura, but he often enjoyed Jenny's immersive fantasies. "Bob is up in bed," said Harold. "He got the flu last, so he's still recovering. I thought it would be best for him to stay home another day or two. He might still be contagious."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters. The whole damn town came down with it."

"Well, almost," said Harold as he sat down. "Doctor Conner didn't, thank God. I know a handful of others who didn't either."

Laura's eyes flicked over to her father before gazing across the table at Jenny. Jenny looked back with inquisitive soft blue eyes. Laura immediately turned her attention to her breakfast. "So, um, he's still okay? Still taking patients?"

"I imagine so, yeah." Harold looked at his daughter. "Why?"

"No reason," said Laura.

Harold knew that was a lie, but he didn't have the same finesse for drawing out the truth like his wife Sarah did. Usually she was the one who found the truth, and Harold was the one who meted out discipline.

As if suspecting that her father was contemplating his daughter's problems too closely, Laura lifted her head and said, "So, um, Dad, have you had any luck?"

Harold sighed. "Yes. All of it bad."

"Sorry. Isn't anyone hiring?"

"Oh, they're hiring," said Harold with a small frown. "Just not with the convenience of working remotely. The big fad lately in the IT world is having people in the office again."

Laura frowned. "If Mom hadn't insisted we settle in this stupid nowhere town--"

Harold shook his head. "Lazy Pines is not exactly nowhere. Just down the state highway is Silverthorne and the big lake there, and past that is Breckenridge with its big ski resort, and another popular lake just north of here. And we're not going to be here forever, just until Sarah finishes her book."

"If she ever does with all the side-trips she keeps taking," Laura muttered.







Sarah Tanner negotiated her jeep down the steep switchback, early spring snow crunching under her wheels and leaving deep tire tracks in her wake. The morning sun lighted the ground in blinding display, forcing her to wear sunglasses despite how they made it hard to see small details. As the ground finally leveled off, she clutched the steering wheel with one hand as she fumbled to pop another cough drop with the other.

Despite the straightening road, she slowed her approach, her gaze tracking up the cliff that loomed above her, then sliding down to the dwelling that had been carved into its base around the 13th century by ancient Native Americans. Only small drifts of dusty snow had crept inside, as the shape of the valley tended to funnel the wind laterally.

Sarah caught sight of a man waving to her up ahead. She pulled over and killed the engine. She drew her hair back and tied it into a makeshift ponytail so it would stay out of her way even as her booted feet hit the snowy ground. Sunlight made her soft brown hair glow almost like an aura, breath fogging the air before her as she stepped forward.

"Sarah, thanks for coming on such short notice," said the lanky, slightly balding man. "I know you're not really on 'active duty' these days, so to speak."

Sarah stepped into the shadow of the cliff and pulled off her sunglasses, her blue-green eyes squinting. "It's fine, Greg. Your message said this was important."

"I know this is not exactly the ideal time of year to look at one of these sites," said Greg as he led her towards the cliff dwelling. "But this way, well, we don't draw attention."

Sarah did not like that they had to rely on this bit of subterfuge. Science was not something that was supposed to be conducted in secret. "You said you didn't want to say what it was on the phone. Can you explain it to me now?"

"Best I just show you," Greg deadpanned.

"You know I don't like it when you act mysterious."

"Sorry, but, well, I'm not even sure myself what this could mean."

Sarah uttered a despondent sigh, but her heart raced. She glanced to the side as they passed the kiva that had been uncovered the previous year, and she felt a pang of disappointment when he did not take her there. More than anything she wanted to find more artifacts, preferably another treasure trove like the one that had been literally stolen from her at the previous site.

Sarah raised an eyebrow when Greg took her past the cliff dwelling entirely. "What's going on?"

Greg remained silent and ducked around an outcropping of rock caused by a wide fissure in the cliff face. In a small natural alcove, he stopped under a rock face angled at about forty-five degrees. Sarah blinked as she struggled to see in the deep shadows, until Greg clicked on a flashlight.

Sarah's breath caught as her eyes fell on the petroglyphs. She said not a word as she stepped forward to better observe the work of the ancient artist who had painstakingly scratched away the surface rock to reveal the darker layers below, thus etching an image.

"So what about it?" Greg said. "Is it real?"

Ever fiber of Sarah's being wanted to scream that it was, yet the scientist in her had to consider every possibility. "This is incongruous." She reached a finger towards the petroglyphs but did not dare touch them. "These look almost like horses."

"Uh-huh. Just like those artifacts that were stolen from that site last year."

Sarah sighed. "Greg, you said you were going to take another look for all the photos we got of--"

Greg shook his head. "I've been through everything we ever cataloged, Sarah. I can't find any evidence we ever took any pics."

It had been bad enough that someone had made off with the artifacts themselves, but to take the photographic evidence as well had incensed Sarah to no end.

Greg looked at the petroglyphs. "So they look like horses."

"Except, by conventional wisdom, they can't be," said Sarah. "The ancestral Puebloans didn't have horses. Native Americans in general didn't have horses until the sixteenth century."

"Which is what you said when you found the other artifacts." He looked at the petroglyphs again. "The proportions do look a bit skewed."

"Which would be consistent with a second-hand account of domesticated horses if they never actually saw one themselves." Sarah turned to Greg. "What do we know about this site?"

"Only that is was abandoned fairly quickly after it had been founded," said Greg. "This was during a period of a lot of warfare among the tribes." He jerked his head towards the petroglyphs. "To me, these look like they're incomplete, like the work was interrupted."

Sarah took a closer look. It did appear as if the artist had intended to draw three figures, but only two were completed. She narrowed her eyes at the center image. "Look here. Does this look like a wing?"

"Good, I'm not the only one," Greg said.

Sarah took a deep breath. "Who knows about this?" she said in a low voice.

"This little crevice contains the sum total of the humans on this planet who have seen it, at least as far as I know."

"Let's keep it that way for now."

"You think this will affect your book?"

The whole premise of Sarah's book was a radical theory that the ancestral Puebloan societies -- often referred to as the "Anasazi" outside of scientific circles -- had contact with other civilizations, perhaps in this case one that had brought with them the concept of horses.

"Only if I can prove it," said Sarah in a soft voice.

"And the wing?" Greg prompted.

"That has to be a mistake by the artist, or it's symbolic of something else." She sighed. "Or it's a fake. I'm going to have to come back here in the summer and really study this site. In the meantime, I have to get going if I want to make the drive back home."

"How's your family doing?" Greg asked as they trekked back to her car.

"Better," Sarah said. "The flu really knocked everyone flat, but now only Bob is still sick."

"You sound a lot better yourself."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Only because I've been popping cough drops like a damn junkie. God, I hate the cough most of all."

Greg tilted his head as the bright sunlight played off Sarah's hair. "Well, that's new."

Sarah turned around as she reached her car. "Huh?"

Greg smiled. "Trying out a new hairstyle?"

"What are you talking about, Greg?"

"The streak of red though your hair."

Sarah frowned and reached behind her head. "Where?"

"Right down the back of your head starting just below your hair tie."

She grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she spied the streak of color, a bright cherry red a quarter inch wide. "I didn't know about this."

"Walk under something being painted, perhaps?" Greg suggested.

Sarah stared at the strands of hair. The color looked too even to be the result of a paint splatter. She frowned and tossed her hair back behind her. "I think I have an idea how this happened, and a certain hubbie of mine is going to get an earful." Sarah's cell phone twittered. She took it out and glanced at the missed call notification. "Speak of the devil. I better get out of here so I can get a clear signal. See you later."

She hopped in her jeep and made the slow climb out of the valley. When she finally had a consistent signal on her phone, she called Harold's cell.

"Hi, honey," said Harold in a subdued voice.

"Sorry I missed your call, I was still at the site," Sarah said. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I don't know. Your daughter is acting weird."

Sarah frowned. "Why is it always 'my' daughter when something goes wrong?" She immediately clicked her tongue and said in a more contrite voice, "Sorry, forget I said that, it's been an interesting morning. What's up?"

Harold told her about Laura and her jacket.

"And here I thought you'd be complaining about Jenny," said Sarah.

"No, that's more your department," said Harold in an even voice.

Sarah gripped the cell phone tighter. "Let's not go there right now. So you think Laura is hiding something?"

"Yes, and I suspect Jenny knows what it is."

"Well, did you ask her?"

"Sarah, I'm not going to do that. It's bad enough how they go at each other in the best of times. Though Jenny did drop a clue. It might have something to do with her hair."

Sarah frowned. "Oh, really, now."

Harold sighed. "Hoo boy, I know that tone. What did I do wrong now?"

"Just as I was recovering from the flu, I went to do laundry," said Sarah in a slightly acid voice. "You left all your chemical solvents out. Again."

Harold dabbled in restoring old machinery, a hobby he had turned to much more often lately to keep himself busy while he was out of work. He often needed to use strong chemicals to remove years of crud and rust. Another motivation, though he didn't state it openly, was finding something he could use around the house without having to pay a lot for it. "Uh, yeah, so?"

"You know I don't like it when you leave all that stuff out."

"I mean, what does it have to do with this?"

"The fumes likely did something to her hair."

Harold hesitated. "Run that by me again?"

"I've got a streak of weird color in my hair," said Sarah. "The only thing I can think of is that something reacted with my hair spray. I bet the same thing happened to Laura."

"What, seriously?" said Harold. "Those chemicals can't change hair color."

"Nevertheless, I want you to make sure they're all properly closed and stored away."

"Fine," Harold grunted. "Will you be back in town soon?"

"Hopefully by noon," said Sarah. "Then if Laura is still acting odd when she gets home from school, maybe I can figure out what it is."







Jenny dashed off the school bus as soon as the doors had opened, running full tilt across the gravel lot along the side of Lazy Pines High School. Her right foot came down squarely in the middle of a puddle of ice-cold melt-water from the lingering mounds of spring snow. It soaked through her sneaker and sock almost instantly, but she ignored it and the indignant cries from those whom she had splashed.

"Save your bellyaching," she heard her sister say to someone. "She's just a five-year-old in a teenager's body."

"Everybody's a critic," Jenny muttered.

She stopped only when the exertion forced her to breathe hard, which in turn made her cough. Her chest ached slightly, but she pressed on when she saw the object of her search up ahead. "James! Hey, James!"

A boy with sandy hair under a fur-lined hat turned his head from where he stood with several other boys his age. "Oh, hi, Jenny."

One of the other boys smirked and leaned over to whisper something to him, which made him blush and the others laugh. Jenny was oblivious to this as she stopped before the boy and said, "You have to hear this idea I came up with. I'm just bursting with the need to tell someone!"

James Carlyle cleared his throat. "Uh, sure, we can do that."

Jenny remained where she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"You mean right now?" said James.

"Of course I mean right now," Jenny said.

"We'll catch you later, James," said one of the other boys with a grin.

Jenny flinched as if surprised to see someone had been standing there all along.

"Yeah, later," James said before turning back to Jenny. "So now what?"

Jenny tilted her head. "What do you mean 'now what?'"

James tugged his hat down. "Sorry, been having a bad morning."

Jenny glanced up. "Why are you wearing that hat?"

"It's cold out."

"It's not that cold, and besides, it looks ridiculous."

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and good morning to you, too."

Jenny sighed. "I'm sorry."

James had known Jenny for the better part of the semester, but he was still getting used to her penchant for blurting out whatever was on her mind, not to mention an exuberance that was sometimes barely a step below overwhelming. He smiled and shook his head. "It's fine. What's your idea?"

Jenny beamed. "A kingdom run by a powerful queen who secretly turns out to be a fae in disguise. She intended to wait until she had all her subjects adoring her before she lets loose with her magic to beguile everyone. Then she has a change of heart and decides to rule benevolently, but something happens that makes her slowly reveal her true nature despite everything she does. She sequesters herself so no one will see her transforming, save for a simple peasant girl who knows her terrible secret." She smirked. "And can you believe my silly sister was the inspiration?"

James grinned. "You say that most of the time nowadays."

Jenny giggled. "I'd tell you what it was that inspired me, but, eh, I don't think she'd want me to tell. I like poking her sometimes, but I don't want to be mean. So, anyway, I know the perfect place! I found it last weekend. It would make a good enchanted forest." She considered. "Well, dead enchanted forest until spring gets here, but you know what I mean. We--"

"Whoa, slow down!" James said. "What area is this?"

Jenny's eyes flicked to the side. "Um, just some place I found."

James raised an eyebrow. "Jenny, is it on private property?"

"Well, yes and no."

James sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "Something is either owned privately or it's not."

"Look, I've never seen the owner there, so maybe it's abandoned. Anyway, it's something like forty acres. No one will know we're there."

"That's what you said the last time!"

Jenny frowned. "How was I supposed to know they were going to pick that day to demolish the old mill? It made a perfect setting for--"

"Have you ever thought of maybe writing this stuff down instead of acting it out?"

"I'm not a good writer, and acting it out helps me remember it," said Jenny. "And it's more fun than being holed up in my room poring over a word processor."

James sighed. "Yeah, well, I may have to bow out."

Jenny frowned. "Why?"

"I really got read the riot act about the mill from my parents. They came close to forbidding me from hanging out with you."

Jenny's eyes widened. "They can't do that!"

"They can, but they didn't, but only if I agreed to stop doing these things with you."

Jenny threw up her hands. Her arm brushed against something to a yelp from James, but she barely noticed as she stalked off a short distance. "This is so not fair. This makes no sense. We never did anything inherently dangerous! We were perfectly safe in--"

She turned around and gasped. A split second later, James had jammed the hat back on his head that Jenny had knocked off, but not before she had seen the real reason for his unusual attire. As James turned to face her, Jenny clenched her teeth and clamped a hand to her mouth as her sides convulsed with repressed laughter.

"If. You. Say. One. Word," James breathed.

Jenny snorted. "I-I can't help it." She bubbled with mirth despite how much it gave her the urge to cough. "I'm not the one who dyed his hair green!"

James slapped a hand over his eyes. "I didn't dye my hair."

"Okay, well, not the whole thing, just that streak in the back," said Jenny. "But, good God, James, you could've picked a better color than that!"

James frowned. "That's just it, I didn't. I woke up this morning with that stupid bit of olive green in my hair."

"Oh, come on. I thought I'm the one who's supposed to come up with the story ideas."

"It's no story. Certainly not one I want to be part of."

Jenny hesitated. "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"

"Finally figured that out, huh?" James muttered.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just--"

"Never mind." He glanced towards the entrance of the school. "We better get inside. If you want to talk to me more about your idea -- just talk -- then we can hang out after school. But the excursions to all points hither and yon are out." He paused and added in a more contrite voice. "I'm sorry."

Jenny watched him go. "Yeah, so'm I," she muttered before stepping towards the entrance.







Laura ducked out of her last class of the morning and rushed down the hallway, clutching her books to her bosom like a shield. She bumped into a few peers as she barreled through their midst, muttering apologies as she went. She finally skidded to a halt before a girl with half her otherwise dark brown hair dyed pink. The girl turned her head. "Laura?" she said, her voice slightly raspy.

"Yeah, it's me, Tina," said Laura.

Laura's friend Tina Kelston flicked her eyes up to the hood, but otherwise did not react. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"If you mean the flu, yeah."

Tina coughed a few times and struggled to clear her throat. "Lucky you. I still feel like total crap, but my mother insisted I don't miss any more school."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I almost wish I was still sick and could stay home."

Tina closed her locker and hoisted a satchel over her shoulder. "I know what you mean."

"Actually, I don't think you do," said Laura. "Are you headed home to get some lunch?"

"Yeah, I was. You want to come along? I still don't have much of an appetite, so I certainly have enough to share."

Laura uttered a sigh of relief. "I was hoping you'd say that. I really need your help."

Tina looked surprised. "You do?"

Laura glanced around and said in a lower voice, "I need your skill at dyeing hair."

Tina snorted. "You want to dye your hair? Seriously?"

"It's not what you think, I just ... look, can we get going? I don't want to talk about it here."

Tina gave her friend a wary look. "You're acting awfully weird."

Laura frowned. "Right now, things are weird, but you might be able to help me until I can figure this out."

"Well, okay, let's get going, then," said Tina. She chuckled. "I have to admit, I'm curious as hell as to what this is all about."

As they headed down the front steps of the school, Laura walked close to Tina and said in a low voice, "Your parents both work during the day, right?"

"Yeah, we'll have the house to ourselves," said Tina. She smirked. "Now I'm insanely curious as to what this is about. You finally work up the nerve to ask someone out and now you want to doll up your hair so--"

"No, that's definitely not it," said Laura firmly.

"Okay, well, that's one theory down the toilet," Tina said with a sigh. "All right, let's hustle."

She broke into a jog, and Laura gratefully matched her pace. They headed into Tina's house, and she closed the front door behind them before turning to her friend. "So what's this all about?"

Laura swallowed hard as she tugged the drawstrings loose from her hood. "Tina, please, whatever you do, don't laugh. This isn't the least bit funny to me."

"Um, okay," Tina said in a confused voice. "But what could be so bad that ..."

She trailed off, and her eyes widened as Laura drew back her hood and freed her hair from a string she had used to tie it back. A thick mess of bright orange curls spilled out around her head.

Tina's mouth dropped open. "Wh-what did you do to--?!"

"I didn't," Laura declared.

"My God, I'd kill to be able to dye my hair so evenly!"

Laura grabbed two fistfuls of hair. "This isn't dye. I don't know what it is."

Tina gave her a dubious look. "Oh, come on, hair doesn't just spontaneously change color."

"Mine did," Laura said. "It started Friday night, just one streak of orange. It got worse Saturday and Sunday, and this morning it had become completely orange and all curls."

Tina looked thoughtful. "Can you stand still for a minute and let me look at it?"

Laura nodded quickly.

Tina approached her friend, her wide eyes looking over the voluminous curls. She took one in her fingers and gently drew it straight. She brushed aside the nearby curls and examined Laura's scalp. "The color goes clear down to the roots! You sure you have no idea how this happened?"

"No freaking idea," said Laura. "It doesn't wash out, even after I used a ton of shampoo."

"Honestly, Laura, I'm not sure what you want me to do."

"Could you dye it back?" Laura asked hopefully.

"Come again?"

"Dye it back to the original color! Maybe help me straighten the curls out."

"I don't know about this. I mean, look." Tina lifted a few of her dyed strands. Unlike Laura's orange, Tina's pink was uneven in places, brighter towards the tips, and did not reach the roots. "I've gotten pretty good at it, but it's obviously dyed, and I don't mean just the color."

Laura's face fell. "So you're saying it's hopeless."

"What I'm saying is, I think you need a doctor more than you need me. Look, I know a lot about hair care. I can tell you right now that orange this bright is not normal. Not even the gene for red hair can produce as bright a shade as that, at least not normally." Tina glanced at Laura. "How the hell did you ever keep this from your parents?"

"The weird color started from the tips and worked its way up," said Laura. "On Saturday, I was able to arrange my hair so it wasn't noticeable. Sunday I had to start wearing the jacket and hood around the house. I claimed I was still getting chills from the flu."

"Laura, seriously, I'm stumped," said Tina. "I don't think I can do anything for you."

Laura nodded. "Thanks for looking at it anyway. I guess I'll see if Doctor Conner can squeeze me in on the way home from school."
> Chapter 2 - A Mystery In Canterlot
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in another universe entirely, a pony contemplated a fate worse than death.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," lamented Starlight Glimmer, her gaze downcast as she trotted along a street in Canterlot. "There's no way this is going to be anything less than a disaster."

"Really, Starlight, you're worried over nothing," said Twilight Sparkle with a smile as she kept pace with her friend and student. "This isn't like trying to do a difficult friendship lesson or going up against Queen Chrysalis again."

Starlight's head whipped up, her eyes wide and shimmering. "No, it's far worse! It's high tea with Princess Celestia!"

"Honestly, darling, you should listen to Twilight," said Rarity, who trotted along on Twilight's other side. "The Princess is nothing but a delight to be around."

"And it's not like you haven't met her before," said Twilight. "You helped rescue her from Chrysalis. She had nothing but good words to say about you."

"Well, yes, at the time," said Starlight. "And she had more important things to worry about, like opening relations with the new changeling king. What if she's just biding her time to call me on the carpet for everything else I've done?"

"But you've done nothing to--" Rarity began.

"Oh, right, stealing the cutie marks of the Elements of Harmony is nothing. Conjuring random alternate timelines is nothing. Mind-controlling those same Elements during a botched solution to a friendship problem is nothing."

"I meant lately, dear."

"Starlight, Princess Celestia knows everything you've done," Twilight declared. "She's trusted me to decide what should become of you. She never doubted me taking you on as a student. If she had issue with it, she would've said something by now."

Starlight lifted her head and gave the palace ahead a wary look. "I really hope you're right about that."

Rarity chuckled. "I do admit, you remind me so much of how dear Twilight would react to such things."

Twilight blinked. "I never reacted that way."

Rarity raised an eyebrow.

Twilight blushed. "Well, okay, maybe I did. A little."

Starlight snickered. She angled her head so her gaze passed over Twilight's barrel. "How bad was she?"

Rarity waved a hoof. "One had only to make a mere suggestion that the Princess had some sort of test in mind to make her completely lose it."

"I had to be prepared!" Twilight cried. "I was still her student at the time."

"Even in such mundane matters as writing equipment, she went a bit overboard. I mean, really, three sets of normal quills, four 'lucky quills', and sixteen emergency backup quills!"

"And each one was cross-indexed according to what mishap caused me to have to use them," said Twilight. "In case the residual magical resonance of the accident affected the writing surface such that it became sensitized to what kind of spells were written with the quill prior to--"

Her words were drowned out by laughter from Starlight and Rarity. Twilight managed a small smile but blushed harder.

"Apologies for the laugh at your expense," said Rarity.

"It's fine," Twilight said, her smile widening. "But I guess I see your point."

"Hearing that story did help a bit," said Starlight. "In fact, it would be great if Rarity would come along with us."

"As much as I would love to, my main reason for coming to Canterlot was to see how my boutique is doing," said Rarity. "But I'll come along as far as the palace, if for no other reason than to see the latest fashion trends among the nobility."

"If it helps any, I'll likely be monopolizing Celestia's time a bit," said Twilight. "I want to hear everything about how her negotiations went."

"Is there really much to them?" Starlight asked. "Thorax seemed pretty willing to be friends."

"There are more changeling hives than the one Chrysalis ruled," said Twilight. "Celestia decided to see if the other hives would allow her to approach and open relations with them now that Chrysalis' influence is gone."

"I will be very happy to hear that things have gone well," said Rarity.

"So will I," said Twilight with a smile. "That will be the last real outside threat to Equestria."

Starlight turned her head. "Really? You mean, Equestria will have no real enemies after that?"

"None of any power to speak of. The Griffon Kingdom is an ally thanks to Rainbow and Pinkie's earlier efforts. The dragons are interested in peaceful coexistence with ponies, thanks to their new leader. Finally, Cadance and Shining Armor just wrapped up a trade pact with Yakyakistan."

"Is it true the griffons threatened war once?" Rarity asked.

"Yes, that's true," said Twilight. "The worst of it was when I was just a foal, before I was Princess Celestia's student. I was a bit too young to really remember what was going on at the time." She hesitated. "I tend not to want to think about it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"It brings back bad memories."

"But I don't understand," said Rarity. "You just said you were too young to remember it."

Twilight sighed. "Yes, but I did a paper on it once and ... I ... got a bad grade."

Starlight smirked. "You? Get a bad grade?"

"I know, I know! Don't rub it in!"

Rarity gave Twilight a suspicious look. "How bad was this 'bad' grade?"

Twilight shivered hard. "A-minus," she whispered.

Starlight and Rarity gave her a deadpan look.

Twilight swung her gaze between them. "What?"

Rarity smiled. "Nothing, dear."

Starlight grinned. "You know what? I'm just not as worried about this high tea anymore."

Twilight smiled. "Well, good, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Rarity and Starlight looked at each other over Twilight's barrel and winked.







Some of Starlight's resolve wavered as they trotted the wide hallways inside the palace, armed pegasus guards lining each side, their eyes tracking her carefully. Starlight looked down at her hooves and muttered, "Why do hoof-steps always echo ominously in places like this?"

"What was that, Starlight?" Twilight asked.

"Oh, nothing," said Starlight as the doors to Celestia's Day Court loomed ahead. "Um, you sure she won't be busy or something? Maybe we should come back later."

Twilight chuckled. "Princess Celestia set this up herself. She would be sure to clear her calendar." Twilight pointed. "See? No more nobles waiting their turn. The last one is probably finishing up now."

Starlight nervously waved a hoof. "Oh, well, then, maybe this noble has a long and complicated agenda, and he'll take ages to--"

The doors burst open, and a unicorn wearing the colors of Canterlot nobility cantered past them.

"Or ... not," Starlight concluded in a weak voice.

Twilight smiled. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting."

Starlight cantered to catch up with Twilight. With reluctance she swept her gaze forward and to the throne, yet instead of the gleaming alabaster white diarch of Equestria, her eyes beheld midnight blue.

Twilight stopped short. "Princess Luna?"

Luna smiled. "Good day, Twilight, Starlight. Please, come in."

"As much as I'm glad to see you, what are you doing here?" Twilight asked.

Luna rose to her hooves and approached, her astral mane trailing out behind her. "Filling in for my sister. She was delayed when her negotiations ran into a bit of trouble. She sends her regrets for missing tea with you and Starlight."

Starlight breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "It's no trouble, really!"

"Well, that's a shame," said Twilight. "Is she okay?"

"Indeed, she is," said Luna. "She simply needed another day. She will be back this evening and has rescheduled tea for tomorrow."

"Oh, then all we have to do is return to Canterlot tomorrow," said Twilight brightly. "Isn't that great, Starlight?"

Starlight's smile faded. "Yeah. Great."

"Normally, I would be delighted to take Tia's place and have tea with you," said Luna. "But my sister asked me to review a copy of the Yakyakistan trade pact. Cadance is anxious to see it approved in Canterlot."

"Of course, I understand," said Twilight. "I'm sure we can find something else to do today."

Luna nodded. "Thank you for understanding, Twilight. It's good to see you again. And you as well, Starlight."

Twilight turned away from Luna. "Let's see if we can find Rarity. She may still be downstairs."

They indeed found their fashionista friend chatting with a member of the nobility. Her eyes widened as she saw Twilight and Starlight. She immediately excused herself and cantered up to them. "Is something the matter?"

"Princess Celestia is delayed," said Twilight. "She won't be back until tomorrow, so she had to reschedule."

Rarity smiled. "While I'm sure you're a bit disappointed, this is an absolutely fabulous opportunity! After I finish up my visit to the boutique, we can make a day of it here in Canterlot."

"Yes, I agree!"

"Um, doing what, exactly?" asked Starlight.

"Why, shopping, of course!" said Rarity.

"Why, reading, of course!" declared Twilight at the same time.

Starlight glanced between them. "Um ..."

Rarity turned to Twilight. "Did I hear you right? Reading?"

"This would be a perfect time to visit the Canterlot Archives," said Twilight with a smile.

Rarity face-hoofed. "One does not come to Canterlot of all places to spend one's time with dusty old books."

"Those books are not dusty! The curator there maintains them very well."

"Darling, you're missing the point."

"But I could show Starlight the complete history behind the whole high tea ceremony," said Twilight.

"Ceremony?" Starlight said.

"When it used to be an excuse for a behind-closed-doors highly-charged political debate--"

Starlight's eyes widened.

"Or back before that when sometimes it was used to judge and decide sentence on those committing certain crimes against the state that--"

"What?!" cried Starlight.

"Or before that, when it was used to decide the fate of--"

"You know what?" Starlight declared. "Shopping it is!"

Twilight's ears drooped as she uttered a long sigh.

Rarity chuckled and stepped alongside Twilight. "After our little shopping excursion, I promise to show you something that will satisfy your unceasing quest for knowledge."

"Oh?" Twilight said.

"Something Sassy Saddles had told me she had stumbled upon the day before while looking for a new restaurant to try ..."







Twilight looked on in awe at the towering spires of immaculate white as they rose on either side of a wide stone street. The area remained largely deserted despite the hour being one of the busiest of the morning in Canterlot. Sunlight glinted off large windows whose tops were fashioned into high, sweeping arches. Roofs soared to tapering points of glittering metal and glass. Hooves clicked against colored stone done in mosaics of Celestia's and Luna's cutie marks.

"I don't think I've ever seen this place!" Twilight said in amazement. "Even in all the time I was here as Celestia's student."

Starlight shielded her eyes with a fore-leg from the glare of light off a window. "I didn't think they made buildings in this style anymore."

"They don't," said Rarity as she trotted ahead of them. She waved a fore-hoof at the nearest building. "Many of these were built very soon after Canterlot's founding. The nobility once lived here." She pointed to a rooftop. "They would fly flags with their family crests at the tops of those spires."

Noting a distinct lack of such flags, Twilight asked, "They don't live here anymore?"

"Oh, no, darling, not with today's breed of nobles insisting on everything being new and modern. They look down their muzzles at this 'old style rich.'"

"Well, that's just silly!" Starlight said. "I would love to live here."

"Even somepony as fashion-conscious as me realizes that sometimes old is best," said Rarity.

"Does anypony live here now?" said Twilight.

"Certainly. There are some businessponies with a taste for the old school. The official name of this street now is Old Canterlot Way."

"Yes, I have heard about this place after all," said Twilight excitedly. "I think my family knew some ponies who lived in this part of town when I was a foal."

Rarity smiled. "If it were me, I would've been quite jealous of my fellow foals who had the privilege of living here."

Twilight chuckled. "Not me. I would've been upset if my parents had moved here, assuming they could afford it."

"Are you kidding me?" Starlight said. "You'd pass up a chance to live where nobles once did?"

"While this place does look nice and quiet -- perfect for reading and studying -- it's simply way too far from the library. Not only that, but ... um ..."

Twilight stopped trotting. Starlight and Rarity continued on a few steps before realizing their companion had fallen behind. They turned towards her as Rarity said, "Something the matter?"

Twilight frowned and looked around. "Don't you feel that?"

Her companions exchanged a look before Starlight said, "Feel what?"

"That very odd magical resonance."

Starlight stepped over to her and looked around. She finally shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't feel anything odd at all," said Rarity.

"Hmm." Twilight lighted her horn. After a moment's concentration, she turned around and faced one of the smaller spires, which she trotted towards. "It's coming from that way and up."

Starlight followed. "Wait, now I can feel it. You're right, that is odd."

Rarity joined them. "I fear I must take your combined word for it, as it still escapes me."

Starlight turned to Twilight. "What do you suppose it is?"

"I don't know," said Twilight. She unfolded her wings and flew up until she was about three stories from the ground. She thrust a hoof forward. "There! It's coming from whatever room is on the other side of that wall."

"Now I am noting something rather strange about this place, and it has nothing to do with magic," said Rarity. "Where are the windows?"

Twilight flew a complete circle around the building. "You're right! There's not a single window, as if the place was sealed up somehow."

"That's not all," said Starlight. She pushed her hoof against the air just short of the front door. It went no further than the length of a fetlock before magic glared and rippled. "It's not just sealed physically."

Twilight flew to the ground and lighted her horn again. "She's right, this place has been magically sealed as well."

"Can you break the seal?"

"I could, but I'm not sure I should. Things get sealed like this for a reason."

Rarity stepped up. "And doesn't that reason usually involve something dangerous?"

"Yes, which is what makes this very strange," said Twilight. "There should be royal guards here, or some other form of official presence."

Starlight prodded the seal again. "Maybe somepony sealed it up and then just forgot about it."

Twilight turned to the others. "I better ask Princess Luna before I proceed any further. If there is a reason for this, she'll likely know."

Rarity smiled gently. "Maybe it's nothing to be worried about."

"Normally I'd agree with you if I could identify the magic I'm sensing," said Twilight. "Where it's completely foreign to me, I'm a little worried."

"Could Discord be up to his usual shenanigans?"

"I doubt it. I know chaos magic when I see it, and this isn't it." Twilight glanced down the street. "We should go back to the palace and see what we can find out."

"I'll take a rain check on that," said Rarity. "I still have a few things I want to finish up at the boutique."

"I'll come along," said Starlight.

Twilight smiled. "Thanks. Let's go."







Princess Luna paced the width of the throne room, looking thoughtful. "Old Canterlot Way, you said?"

"Yes, house number five-eight," said Twilight.

"I cannot recall that address off the top of my head," said Luna. "But then again, if that place was sealed before I returned from the moon, I would not be privy to it."

"Surely there has to be some sort of record about it," Starlight suggested.

Luna turned to face them. "That is exactly what I was thinking. My sister is a stickler for detail, especially concerning things such as this."

"So you don't think it's likely somepony simply forgot about it?" said Twilight.

Luna trotted forward and bid them to follow. "Very unlikely." Her horn glowed, and the doors to the throne room opened. The guards to either side bowed as she passed. "But we'll soon find out, as anything of this nature would be recorded in the public works section of the Royal Archive."

"Royal Archive?" Starlight asked.

"It's a special section of the general Canterlot Archives," said Twilight. "Concerned mainly with the day-to-day functioning of government."

Luna nudged open a set of tall gleaming metal gates with her magic, her hooves soon echoing against shiny tile in the subdued light. On either side, huge bookcases rose from floor to ceiling, and the aroma of old paper and cloth bindings hung heavy in the air.

Twilight smiled as she took a deep breath. "Ah, this brings back so many memories."

Starlight smirked. "To me, it just smells musty in here, but, whatever."

"Master Archivist!" Luna's voice rang out, but silence was the only response. She sighed and shook her head. "While Master Wordy Scroll is an excellent archivist, he is getting on in years and sometimes forgets to put on his hearing aid. I suggest you cover your ears."

Starlight blinked. "Cover my ears? Why--?"

"MASTER ARCHIVIST! THOU HAST VISITORS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE! THY TIMELY ARRIVAL WOULD BE MOST APPRECIATED BY US!"

Starlight quivered with her forelegs crossed tight over her head until the floor stopped shaking in the wake of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Twilight hid a smile behind her hoof.

The sound of galloping hooves approached, and soon a somewhat wrinkled old unicorn stallion with a brown coat and graying mane and tail skidded to a halt, both the hearing horn strapped to his head and his thick glasses almost tumbling to the floor. Age spots were scattered about his cutie mark, that of a long scroll completely filled with writing. "Yes, yes! Terribly sorry, Your Highness! I was simply nap -- er, I mean, cataloging! Yes, that's it!"

Starlight planted a hoof to her muzzle to suppress a giggle.

Wordy Scroll's horn glowed, and he pushed his glasses up his muzzle. He gasped in delight. "Oh, my, is that little Twily?"

Twilight chuckled as she stepped forward. "Not so little anymore, but yes, it's me. I had no idea you had been promoted to Master Archivist. I'm very happy for you."

Wordy beamed. "Thank you, Twily. Oh, I mean, Princess!"

Twilight laughed. "You can keep calling me Twily. I don't put on airs for old friends."

"You are simply too kind," said Wordy. "Now, what I can do for you all?"

"We wish to know about a location in the older section of Canterlot," said Luna. "Fifty-eight Old Canterlot Way."

Wordy looked thoughtful. "Well, nothing about it rings a bell, but let's see what we can find."

They followed him further into the library, where Wordy stopped seemingly at random before a bookcase. He looked up, his horn glowing as he plucked a book from among a hundred or so of its companions. "This is the residence manifest for that house," said Wordy as he laid the book on a reading lectern.

"Would this have a record if the place was sealed for any reason?" said Twilight.

"Yes, it would note that, Twily, but the actual sealing order would be elsewhere in the archive."

"The place is indeed sealed," said Luna. "Please find that sealing order for us."

Wordy was already backing away and nodding. "At once, Princess."

Luna opened the book with a glow from her horn as Twilight and Starlight stepped up. "Wow, look at some of these names in the first few pages!" Twilight said with delight. "I recognize the old noble families from Canterlot's founding."

"You would," Starlight said with a wry grin.

"Likely the last few pages are more relevant," said Luna before turning to the back. "Here. The last recorded time that this address was occupied was ... hmm."

"Just over twenty years ago, about when I was still a foal," Twilight said in surprise. She leaned forward and read the name of the pony who last lived there: Night Moonglow. "This name is not familiar to me."

Starlight stepped up and read the name. "Me, neither, but I'm not as up on Canterlot history as you are."

"But there's no record of it being sealed," Twilight said.

Luna frowned and turned a page back. "Nor for the previous resident. Or before that."

They glanced to the side as less eager hoof-steps approached and a glum Wordy appeared. "I'm terribly sorry, Princess, but I cannot find any sort of order for a seal on that residence."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

"Positive, Princess!"

"Could it have been misfiled?"

Wordy frowned. "A very outside possibility, but I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Luna turned away from the lectern. "I do not know what to make of this."

"Should we investigate?" said Twilight.

Luna glanced towards Wordy. "Thank you, Master Archivist. We'll be taking our leave now."

"Of course," said Wordy. "Sorry I couldn't be of more assistance."

"It's fine, Wordy," said Twilight with a soft smile. "I'll come back to visit soon and we can talk more."

Wordy smiled. "I'd like that, Twily, thank you!"

"I would hold off on doing anything just yet," said Luna as they entered the hallway. "Let me speak to my sister when she returns this evening. If anypony would know about it, she would. If not, I am sure she will be happy to let you get to the bottom of this."







"Looks like Rarity already left for the train station," said Starlight as she and Twilight stepped out of the Canterlot Boutique.

"It's too bad we have to head home," said Twilight. She sighed and glanced up at the sun. "I really wish we could stay until Celestia is back and can give us the go-ahead."

Starlight smiled. "Hey, I'm interested too. I want in on this."

"Of course. You think I would leave my student out of it?"

Starlight flicked her eyes to the side. "Well, you did seem to be going heavy on the friendship lessons and light on the magic lately. This sounds like something I can really tear into!" Starlight chuckled. "So to speak."

Twilight smiled. "I'm actually a bit eager myself for something interesting to investigate. I wonder if we should start with that last name on the residence roster, Night Moonglow."

Starlight tilted her head. "You mean Night Moonshine."

"No, it was definitely Moonglow."

Starlight frowned. "No it wasn't. It was Moonshine."

Twilight chuckled. "Now, Starlight, no offense, but I have a very good head for detail, especially considering my years of learning, and I tell you it was Moonglow."

"I don't care what kind of head you have, it was still Moonshine," Starlight declared.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Starlight rolled her eyes. "You're right, it's not that important. Never mind."

"Except you still think I'm wrong."

"Well, yeah, because you are."

"But I'm not!"

"Twilight, it doesn't matter!" said Starlight.

"I can't stand the idea that you think I'm wrong." Twilight abruptly turned away and cantered towards the palace. "Let's go."

"Huh?" Starlight galloped to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the archives. I'm going to prove this to you."

"But we'll miss the train!"

"I'll teleport us to the station!" Twilight cried. "Now, come on!"

Starlight sighed and shook her head. "Whatever."







Twilight stood at the lectern, her mouth dropped open, her pupils shrunk as she stared at the book before her. "I ... but ... how ...?!"

Starlight gave her teacher a satisfied smirk as she leaned a foreleg on the lectern and propped her head up with a hoof. She reached over with her other fore-hoof and tapped the page. "So what does it say there, o learned one?"

Twilight closed her mouth and frowned. "Night Moonshine."

"As I had said."

Twilight whipped her head towards her student. "But that's not what it said before!"

"Oh, come on, Twilight. Just admit that you're wrong and I'm right."

Twilight turned away from the book. "I agree that you're right in that Moonshine is what the book says now. But I'm positive it said Moonglow when I first read it."

"So you're saying someone edited the book in the two seconds it took between when you read it and I did?"

"With a properly crafted spell, yes, that's possible."

"Well, do you detect any magic like that on the book?"

Twilight looked back to the book. Her horn glowed, and she soon uttered a long sigh. "No."

"And why would anypony do something like that in the first place?" said Starlight.

"For the same reason there's no record of that building being sealed, to hide something."

Starlight glanced at the book and closed it with a nudge of magic. "Well, we're not going to find anything here. We ought to head back to Ponyville and wait for word from Princess Celestia."

"I suppose you're right," said Twilight. In a more contrite tone she said, "I apologize, Starlight, for doubting you."

Starlight turned away from the lectern, her fore-hooves clopping to the floor. "Eh, it's all right. Just promise me that we'll work on this together, okay?"

Twilight smiled. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."







Princess Celestia paused with the fork levitated halfway to her mouth. Outside, the moon hung low over the horizon, having just been raised by her sister. Finally, she slowly put down the fork, the morsel of dinner untouched.

Already, Luna had tilted her head at her sister's reaction, watching her carefully across the dining table. "Is something the matter, Tia?"

"No," Celestia said in a quiet voice. "I was merely thinking."

"So you know of this address?"

Celestia hesitated and glanced away for a moment. "I do."

Luna nodded. When nothing more was forthcoming, she prompted, "And?"

"And it's nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Luna blinked. "Well. That was unexpected."

Celestia managed a small smile, but her sister knew her well enough to tell it was forced. "Let me rephrase, please. It concerns something which happened while you were ... indisposed on the moon. Therefore, I don't believe you need to be worried about it."

"Twilight is worried about it," said Luna.

Celestia sighed, and her smile turned wistful. "Yes, she would be. I can assure you both that it is fully under control and needs no further investigation."

"So you do know why this residence was sealed?"

"Yes."

Another silence. Luna sighed. "And??"

Celestia picked up her fork again in her magic. "And there's nothing more to say on the matter."

"Except, perhaps, to explain to your own sister what this is all about."

Celestia paused to chew her bite of dinner, perhaps excessively as the tension hung in the air between them. "It's not something I'm prepared to discuss at the moment."

"So you will eventually tell me?" Luna said hopefully.

"I will. I just need to make a few discreet inquiries first."

Luna slowly nodded. "Twilight was concerned about the kind of energy she had detected."

Celestia hesitated before saying in a wary voice, "Did she identify those energies?"

"No, and that was her concern." Luna frowned. "Frankly, it is my concern as well."

"Twilight may be an alicorn and extremely well-versed in magic, but there are still things she does not know," Celestia declared. "And sometimes they are things that ought not to be known."

"I doubt that will sit well with her."

"Nevertheless, it is as things are," said Celestia. "Do you know there is a theory that states that Discord's existence is due to unicorn mages who themselves experimented with chaos magic? Supposedly, they accidentally gated him into our plane when they pushed things too far."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather fringe theory, Tia."

"I use it merely as an example, dear Luna. My point is, just because something can be done doesn't mean it should. That is largely what this is about, and I implore you to trust my judgment in this matter."

"As much as I don't like being in the dark, I do trust you," said Luna. "But I hope I do not have to wait long for an explanation."

"I will speed this along as much as possible," said Celestia. "To be honest, it would be nice to have somepony to speak to about this."







As the moon climbed to its zenith, and as Luna slipped deep into the collective dreamscape of ponykind, Celestia opened her eyes to the darkness of her room.

She lifted her head, and without looking in that direction, she cast a silence charm on the door so that her ever-vigilant guards would not hear her stir. She alighted to her hooves, which clicked softly in the dark. Her heart raced as she prepared herself.

A moment's concentration, a brief blaze of her horn, and space folded around her. In an instant, she left the calm air of her chamber for the cool, stiff breeze that blew between the buildings of Old Canterlot Way and lightly ruffled her fur. She had not even reopened her eyes before she cast a charm around her that would make her fade into the background to anypony who happened to spot her.

Celestia felt a sharp pang in her heart as she raised her eyes to the top of the sealed building. She stepped forward, the seal parting to let her by and re-sealing behind her. She lifted a fore-hoof and hovered it for a moment above the first step before she extended her wings instead. She flew up to the third floor, the smell of dust only just barely hiding the lingering odors of chemicals and magical plasma.

Celestia lighted her horn, casting a pale radiance on blank walls and the dust-choked floor. She let out a sigh as she swept her sad gaze around her.

She advanced into a room where the mere smells of old magic were joined by a tangible force, detectable only to Celestia. Or at least that's what it should have been; that it wasn't was why she was there.

Celestia took a deep breath, steeled herself, and cast the spell.

Where an empty space had been, now a large, glowing tear ripped across the room. The light glistened in Celestia's widening eyes as she beheld exactly what she had hoped not to see. For two decades, these energies has been waning. Now, they were surging again.

Celestia dispelled her magic, and the room became empty and unremarkable once more.

She took a deep breath and set her eyes hard. "Fine," she said softly to the empty room. "Now that you know something is very wrong, Celestia, what are you going to do about it?"

The empty room had no reply, and neither did she.
> Chapter 3 - Family Matters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harold rubbed a temple with his free hand, but it did little to quell his growing headache. He managed to suppress a sigh at yet another dressing down via his cell phone. As he turned from the wall of his home office, he realized only then he had been pacing. He gritted his teeth and fell into his chair.

"And furthermore, Mr. Tanner," said the female voice on the phone that had all the nuanced cadence of a rusty hinge. "I hope I don't need to point out the other reason besides safety why I don't care for these secret excursions of theirs."

Harold had little brainpower left for anything more complex than two plus two. "Perhaps it's best you point it out anyway to avoid misunderstanding, Mrs. Carlyle," he said in a tired voice.

Margaret (don't dare call her Maggie) Carlyle, mother of James, clicked her tongue. "Really, it should be obvious considering their age and ... development."

"So you seriously think my daughter would allow him to feel her up?"

Margaret gasped. "I resent the implication that my son is some witless, sex-crazed boy!"

"Well, then, you just answered your own question, and you have nothing to worry about," said Harold. "Unless you're implying that Jenny is some sort of budding harlot trying to lure him off the path of chastity."

"I never said that," said Margaret in a stiff voice. "Though she is a bit flamboyant."

"There's a huge difference between flamboyant and flirtatious, Mrs. Carlyle."

"The fact remains that she is still taking him to places they ought not to be!"

Harold let out a resigned sigh. "I'll talk to her. Good day." He hung up the phone before the woman could say another word.

He tossed the cell phone to the desk and uttered a curse. He frowned as his eyes followed where the phone had landed. He snatched up an envelope, addressed by his own hand to a George Tanner outside of Grand Junction. His eyes narrowed on the "Return to Sender, Refused" postal stamp.

Against his better judgment, he let his gaze drift to the framed picture above his computer monitor. A gangling teenage version of himself grinned goofily at the camera as an older man stood in dusty overalls beside him, practically beaming. Behind them, a brand new barn they had built stood awaiting the finishing coat of paint.

"Dad?" came a distant voice.

Harold turned his gaze away from a lost past and bolted out of his chair. "On my way, Bob."

Harold had to pause every time he said the boy's name. He had been so used to calling him "Bobby" until the kid decided on his sixteenth birthday a few months prior that he was too old for that name.

Harold bounded up the stairs and was soon standing in the doorway of the room of a boy with dark, rust-red hair. He was sitting up in bed, his hand-held video game console lying on the blanket beside him, next to an empty plate where a large sandwich had been reduced to crumbs. Harold gestured towards both and smiled. "You must be feeling better, champ."

Bob smiled wanly. "Yeah, I guess. Still feel kinda bad, and it seems chilly in here. Can you turn up the heat a bit?"

Harold kept his smile going with some effort. Even after as many years as Bob had been with them, his tone still sounded excessively formal even to the one he finally managed to start calling Dad. "I'd love to, but we have to watch costs. I can get you an extra blanket."

Bob shook his head. "It's fine," he said in a soft voice. "Maybe some water?"

"You got it."

Harold headed back downstairs and into the kitchen. Just as he held the glass under the faucet, the doorbell rang. He muttered "now what?" before filling the glass and heading out of the kitchen. He detoured towards the front door, yanking it open without bothering to look through the peephole.

Harold stared for a few moments as if in hopes that this would somehow make the visitor go away. When this failed, he finally blurted, "What are you doing here?"

A slim woman with straight, red-brown hair smirked. "Well, that's better than the usual greeting I get from you these days."

"No, seriously, Eileen, what are you doing here?"

Eileen McDermott tossed her head and brushed flyaway strands of hair from her pale green eyes. "Can I at least come in?"

"That depends," Harold said. "Let's try this again: what are you doing here?"

Eileen rolled her eyes in a gesture reminiscent of Jenny. "Maybe I happened to hear about the flu outbreak and wanted to see if my son was okay."

"He's still recovering," said Harold, standing at the door like a guard. "He was the last one of the family to get it. He'll be all right."

Eileen frowned. "Seriously, Harold, this is ridiculous. Let me the hell in."

Harold narrowed his eyes and did not budge.

Eileen uttered a windy sigh. "Fine. I'm not here for money. Satisfied?"

Harold hesitated, but finally stepped back from the door.

Eileen gave him a tight smile before stepping inside. She rubbed her arms. "Thanks. It's still ridiculously cold for late March, if you ask me." She glanced around. "Is my sis here?"

"Sarah is still on her way back from a dig."

Eileen brightened. "Well, then, this should be a pleasant visit."

"Whatever you really want--"

"I told you, it's to see my son."

"--it will have to wait until I give this water to him."

Harold lifted the glass only as a gesture to show what he was doing. The words had barely left his mouth when Eileen snatched the glass from him, splashing a decent portion of it over Harold and the carpet.

"What the hell?!" Harold exclaimed.

"I'll bring it to him," Eileen said as she ran past him, her long hair flying. "I'm here to see him anyway."

"I didn't say you could--!" Harold started.

"I didn't ask you," Eileen said loftily as she raced up the stairs.

Harold clenched his hands into fists. When he was a kid growing up on the farm, his father had kept a huge sack filled with straw tucked away in the back of the barn. Whenever his old man was so angry he could chew nails, he went out and punched that sack until his anger had waned.

Harold so wished he had that sack right then.





Despite her initial insistence, Eileen hesitated just outside her son's room. She never knew what to expect, and it had been months since she had tried to visit. She took a deep breath, put on as sunny a smile as she could muster, and stepped into the room.

Bob had gone back to his video game, and his eyes were glued to the screen. "Thanks for the water, Dad," he said without looking up.

Eileen stepped forward and set the glass down. "Hello, Bobby."

Bob's head jerked up, his eyes wide. He was about to speak when his moment of distraction caused him to lose a life in his game. He frowned and thumped the pause button.

"Sorry if I messed up your game," said Eileen as she sat on the edge of his bed. "You feeling all right?"

"I feel like crap still," said Bob. "Thought I wouldn't get it, but I started getting sick just as everyone else got better. Really weird."

"How so?"

"Everyone should've been past being contagious by then. That's how influenza usually works. There's an initial period of symptoms and contagion. The contagion is usually gone by the time the symptoms start to clear up." He paused. "Maybe you shouldn't be here. I'll just give it to you."

Eileen smirked and tousled his hair. "I'll take that chance. You haven't changed. Still my little Bobby, science nut."

Bob scratched his head. "Could you call me 'Bob', please?"

Some of Eileen's smile faded. "I've been calling you Bobby since you were little."

"Yeah, and I'm not little anymore. I don't let Da ... uh ... Uncle Harold call me that anymore, either."

"It's all right if you want to call him 'Dad'," Eileen said in a neutral voice. "He's been a hell of a lot more of a father to you than your biological father ever was."

An uneasy silence fell, and Bob gave his mother a troubled look. "Are you here to take me back again?"

Eileen's breath caught. For the first time in a long while, that question had been asked with an actual hint of hope. Bob had not even reached two when his father skipped out on them, and Eileen nearly had a nervous breakdown at the prospect of raising him alone. That was when Sarah and Harold stepped in.

"If I were, would you really be willing to come?" Eileen asked.

Bob didn't reply, and instead stared down at his video game.

Eileen's gaze flicked to it as well. "Harold buy that for you?"

Bob nodded. "Birthday present."

Eileen tried not to cringe. She had sent him only a card, as it was about what she could afford. "Bet he gets you all sorts of nice things, huh?" she said softly.

Bob shrugged. "I guess."

Eileen gave him a forlorn look, wishing she had more time to delve deeper into whatever was bothering her son. She managed a small smile as she stood up. "Hey, um, I'd love to stay longer, but my ride back to Denver is going to show up soon. Will you let me Skype with you?"

Bob looked up. "It won't cut into your Skype time with Jenny?"

"Not really, no."

"Because I don't want to be a bother."

Eileen rolled her eyes. "You're never a bother, Bobby. I mean, Bob."

Bob slowly nodded. "Okay, sure, then."

Eileen smiled. "Great. It was nice seeing you again." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Get better, okay?"

Bob gave her a faint smile. "I will."

Eileen waved and headed out.





Sarah uttered a weary sigh as she pulled her car into the garage. Her hopes of being home by noon had been dashed by a bad accident on I-70 that had traffic snarled all the way from the Eisenhower Tunnel. She would still be stuck there if she hadn't finally taken an alternate route.

After killing the engine, she snapped on the overhead light and pulled her ponytail into view. Had that red streak spread wider, or was it just her imagination?

She flung her hair back behind her and got out of the car. She thumped the button to close the garage door and barreled inside.

Harold met her at the other end of the hallway. "Hey, honey."

"Hey." Sarah gave him a peck on the lips before heading past him and towards the downstairs bathroom. "You take care of those chemicals like I asked?"

Harold followed. "No, I've had other things on my mind."

Sarah clicked her tongue as she stepped in front of the sink. "I asked you to do just one thing, Harry--"

"Look, don't get on my case, please. I've had enough crap to deal with today."

Sarah gripped the sides of the sink and let out a quick sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge myself."

"Something happen at the dig?"

"You could say that." She glanced at the cabinet partially behind her husband. "Get me the little scissors, please."

"Scissors? For what?" Harold asked even as he dutifully complied.

Sarah frowned. "For this." She pulled her ponytail around.

Harold stared. "What the hell?"

"My reaction exactly," said Sarah as she took the scissors from him.

"Sarah, no way in hell fumes from those solvents did this."

"Nevertheless, I'm not taking any chances." Sarah tugged the cherry red strands straight and started trimming them off. "Normally I'd just wash it, but if there is any chemical on it, I want it as far away from me as possible."

Harold realized arguing with her was pointless. "Look, I have something I need to tell you."

"Just a second," said Sarah in a distracted voice. She set the scissors down and examined her hair. "Do you see any more red?"

"Nope, none," Harold said after only a cursory glance.

"Okay, then what do you have to tell me?"

Harold started to turn around. "We better head out into the living room first."

Sarah's mouth dropped open. "Whoa, Harry, stop!"

"Huh?" Harold started to turn towards her. "What now?"

Even before the words were out of his mouth, Sarah had grabbed his arms and forced him to turn his back to her. Despite outweighing her almost two-to-one, he knew better than to resist when his wife was that forceful.

Sarah narrowed her eyes. She tugged down the collar of Harold's shirt.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" Harold asked.

Sarah stared. "Harry, the very tips of your hair on your neck have turned blue!"

"What? Oh, come on."

"I'm looking at it right now."

Harry turned around. "It must be a trick of the light or something."

"Oh, like my streak of red was. Uh-huh. That's it. I want those chemicals out of the house right now."

"You don't mean -- hey, wait!"

Sarah had rushed past him and towards the basement door under the stairs. Harold dashed ahead of her and stood in her path. "Harry, this is not the time to be obstinate!"

"Then stop being ridiculous," Harold declared. "Those chemicals in no way caused this."

"How do you know that? How can ... wait ..." Sarah turned her head and listened as faint voices came from Bob's room. "Who's he talking to?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you," said Harold. "It's Eileen."

Sarah gaped at him. "My sister is here? And you let her in??" she hissed.

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "She wanted to see Bob."

Sarah covered her eyes with her hand. "We've talked about this."

"What was I supposed to do, huh? Legally, she's still his mother and can take him out of here any time."

"You know as well as I do she'll never get her act together enough for that," Sarah snapped. "The fact that she's here and not in Denver taking care of our mother shows that. I've lost count of how many times she's tried to take Bob back only to send him right back to us. The last thing Bob needs is false hope that--"

She cut herself off when she heard someone coming down the stairs. "Hey, don't stop bad-mouthing me on my account," Eileen said with a smirk.

Sarah intercepted her at the bottom of the stairs. "Fine. You've seen Bob, now go."

Eileen grinned. "Nice to see you, too, sis." She stepped off the stairs. "Yeah, I'm going, no worries. My ride is about to show up."

"Why did you come out here?" Sarah demanded. "It can't be just to see Bob for all of five minutes."

"I was going around with a guy who wanted to get in some last minute skiing at Breckenridge," said Eileen. "His treat. So I took him up on it."

"And he's the one giving you the ride?" Harold asked.

"Nah, he turned out to be a jerk, so I dumped him."

"At the ski resort?" Sarah cried. "With no means to get back to Denver?!"

"Hey, I managed, I got a ride."

"And here I thought that just maybe you had gained a modicum of responsibility when you started taking care of Mom. Guess I was wrong."

Eileen frowned. "Look, she's in a fucking assisted living place. She doesn't need me around every single day."

"You know she gets lonely."

"Hey, I don't see you jumping in your car and visiting her. And frankly, the older she gets, the worse that Irish brogue of hers gets. I can barely understand her anymore." A car horn sounded outside. "That's my ride. See you later, sis," Eileen said before racing for the door.

Sarah watched her sister go and huffed. "What the hell else can go wrong today?"

"Jenny," Harold deadpanned.

Sarah lowered her head into her hands. "What now?" she said in a despairing voice.

"You know the old mill that they demolished last week? They were inside when the crews arrived."

Sarah spun around. "They?"

"Her and James Carlyle, the boy she's been hanging around with lately."

"It's bad enough she takes these risks, she has to drag others into it. What are you going to--?"

"I'm not going to do anything," Harold said firmly. "I give up. I can't get through to her. Maybe you can."

Sarah turned away. "She barely wants to talk to me anymore."

Harold stepped up to his wife and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Then stop talking at her and talk with her."

"I don't talk at her, Harry, I--"

"Yes, you do. You're so intent on trying to steer her interests to something more 'practical' that I think it drives her to do more outrageous stuff."

Sarah turned towards him and flung an arm towards the front door. "The person responsible for Jenny's outrageous behavior just walked out that door."

"Oh, come on, Sarah."

"No, I'm serious! They Skype with each other, what, two or three times a week now?"

"We have no idea what they're talking about," Harold declared. "We don't listen in on them."

Sarah folded her arms. "Maybe we should."

"You don't mean that."

Sarah lowered her gaze. "No, I don't. I just feel everything has been going wrong lately." She looked up. "Listen, I need some down time or I'm just going to start screaming at people. I'm going upstairs for a long soak."

Harold smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

Sarah drew her husband into a tight hug. "I hate it when we fight. Family shouldn't be this way."

Harold hugged her back, his mind's eye turning to the returned letter. "Yeah. It shouldn't."





James could easily listen to Jenny for hours.

By the end of the school day, Jenny had already modified her original concept. Realizing that parts of it were a bit clichéd, she had embellished and expanded it, adding more layers of intrigue and depth. James had never met anyone with such a soaring imagination.

He walked with her as she went on in detail about her concept until they stopped at a park bench. James sat, but Jenny continued to stand in order to act out scenes for him, at least until she said, "And for this next part, we need a change of scenery."

"Huh?" James said even as Jenny grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "No, we can't!"

"Yes we can!" Jenny said excitedly. She pointed past the edge of the park. "It's just that way, not too far."

James pulled his arm from her grip. "Didn't you hear a word I said this morning?"

"Oh, come on, you didn't think I'd take you seriously, did you?"

"I don't believe this," James murmured.

"Look, this isn't dangerous," said Jenny. "It's just a distant corner of a vast plot of land. There's a building there, but where it's on private land, it's not about to be demolished."

"Jenny, the key phrase here is 'private land'. What if the owner finds us?"

Jenny waved a hand. "A hiking trail runs right by the place. We claim we wandered in by accident. No harm, no foul. Given that there's nothing of value on the property, we'd hardly be accused of stealing anything."

James sighed. "And if I don't go, you're going to do it anyway, right?"

"Yep. Now, you can let the poor peasant girl suffer an unknown fate, or you could be her knight and protect the damsel from--"

James threw up his hands. "Okay, okay!" He grinned faintly. "You know the only reason I'm doing this is because I'm dying to hear the rest of the story."

Jenny smirked and took his hand. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, come on."





Doctor Kevin Conner leaned back in his chair, stretching and yawning before rubbing his blue-gray eyes as if to get them to focus better on the laptop screen. After a bit of useless and uncomfortable squinting, he gave up and fished out his reading glasses. He had only one more patient summary to write up, though he could have likely just cut and paste it from the previous one given how similar it was.

He had just slid his chair forward and began typing when a soft knock sounded at the door. "Come in, Heather," he said without looking up.

His assistant and nurse Heather Garron opened the door, a manila folder in her hand, which she tapped against her hip. "Please don't kill the messenger," she said as she brushed an auburn curl out of her soft brown eyes.

Kevin looked up and sighed when he saw the folder. "I thought we were going to close a little early today since we had those cancellations."

Heather stepped inside. "I know you're really beat. You've been going non-stop since this flu tore through the town."

Kevin stroked his beard. "Would've been nice if it stopped there, but now we're drowning in the usual post-flu complaints, most of which I can't do much about."

"Tell me about it. I only just got over mine. I am so jealous you never got it. You must have a supernatural immune system."

Kevin chuckled. "Oh, don't let Fred Turner hear you say that."

"Old man Turner?" Heather rolled her eyes. "No, he'd think you were one of those aliens the government is covering up."

"Maybe he's right." Kevin stood and raised his hands to either side of his head, extending his forefingers and waggling them. "I just hide my alien antennae really well."

Heather snorted and slapped the folder to his chest. "Anyway, I promise, she's your last patient. She begged me to let you see her."

Kevin opened the folder and raised an eyebrow. "Laura Tanner? Well, something must be up. The Tanners are pretty selective about when they see me. When the flu hit, only Harold came to see me when his cough was so bad it was making his ribs hurt."

Heather stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Get this: she's got bright orange hair."

Kevin's gaze rose. "Are we talking the same girl who's about as rebellious as a nun?"

"She claims it's not dyed, and that's what she's here to see you for," said Heather.

Kevin snapped the folder shut. "You take her vitals?"

"Yes. Everything's spot-on. She's in examination room two."

Kevin nodded and headed past her. He stepped down the hallway and opened the door. His more than twenty years experience as a general practitioner across two large cities before arriving in Lazy Pines enabled him to react with equanimity, though when Heather had said bright orange, he had not expected it to be day-glow bright. Or, for that matter, virtually exploding in thick curls where plain, straight hair had been before.

Kevin gave her a warm smile and closed the door behind him before approaching the distraught teen sitting on the end of the examination table. "Heather tells me you seem to be having an issue with your hair?"

"Well, isn't is obvious?" Laura said in a slightly quavering voice. "Look at it! I didn't do this to myself."

Kevin tilted his head as he looked. "When did this happen?"

Laura repeated what she had told Tina. "I'm not lying about this, Doctor Conner. I really have no clue how it happened. Hair is not supposed to be this color!"

"Well, that's true, in normal circumstances," said Kevin. "There are cases where hair can turn interesting colors from exposure to chemicals or bleaches."

Laura grabbed two fistfuls of curls. "But all of it? And this evenly?"

Kevin stepped closer. "Please, tilt your head this way."

Laura complied, and Kevin gently parted the curls. "You've had no scalp pain, no burning sensations?"

"No, nothing," said Laura.

"Did it do this all at once?"

"It came in over three days. First the color, and then this morning--" She waved a hand at her head. "--this stupid curly mess."

"I don't see any irritation or burns," murmured Kevin. He reached into his pocket for a small flashlight. "The color is clear to the roots."

"So do you believe me that this isn't dye?" Laura asked hopefully. "My friend Tina is into hair stuff. She says there's no way someone could dye hair this perfectly."

"May I clip a curl of your hair?"

"Go ahead," said Laura.

Kevin fetched a small pair of scissors and carefully snipped a curl free. He held it up to the light, then brought it over to the sink. He ran the water on its hardest setting and held the curl in the stream.

"I've tried that," Laura said with a sigh. "You don't want to know how much shampoo I used."

"Hmm," Kevin murmured as he shut off the water and trailed the hair against the stainless steel. He would expect to see at least a little color bleed. Instead, the hair remained a completely even shade of color. "I'll be very honest with you, Laura. Right now, my only diagnosis is that you have a chronic case of curly orange hair."

Laura let out a sigh of relief. "All I wanted was you to believe me that it wasn't dyed, because I don't want to take the chance that my parents will give me a hard time when I show them this."

Kevin gave her a disapproving look. "You haven't told your parents yet?"

Laura wrung her hands. "Look, I don't ... I don't want to look bad in front of them. I want them to think I'm responsible."

"Please, Laura, promise me you'll tell them tonight."

"Only if I can tell them they can call you to confirm."

Kevin nodded. "They most certainly can."

Laura smiled faintly. "Thank you. So you really have no idea how I can fix this?"

"At the moment, I'm not sure what this is," said Kevin. "There are conditions where the biochemicals associated with hair color can break down, but that process generally takes years. The only thing I can suggest is shaving it off and hope it grows back its normal color."

Laura's smile faded. "That's what I was afraid you'd say."

Kevin pulled out a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser. "Let me take another sample of your hair, and I'll send it off for testing. We'll go with the theory for now that this is some sort of very odd chemical reaction. If you don't want to shave your hair, I can recommend a brand of shampoo that's good for treating this sort of thing."

Laura nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Conner, I really appreciate this."

Kevin dutifully took a clipping and put into a specimen container before disposing of the gloves. "I'll let you know as soon as the results come in."

Laura hopped off the end of the examination table. "Thank you again," she said before heading out.

Kevin lifted the glass specimen tube into the air and held it to the light. "But if it's not dye, what is it?"





If James had not been following Jenny closely, he could have truthfully claimed to have become lost. Even on the hiking trail, it had so many forks and twists that he had little idea what direction he was going let alone where he was.

"Here, it's this way!" Jenny said as she suddenly darted to the side and disappeared between two thick tree trunks.

"Jenny, wait up!" For almost a full minute, James could only hear his companion and not see her as he slogged through wet snow drifts. By the time he finally spotted her, his heart was racing, and not just from the exertion. "Please, I can't keep up!"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I thought you were in better shape than that."

"Very funny." James looked behind him. "Crap, I can't even see the trail anymore."

Jenny waved a hand. "I know where it is, don't worry." She gestured around them. "And not seeing the trail is kinda the point. It really looks like we're deep in an enchanted forest!"

"More like lost in one," James murmured.

"Oh, stop it." Jenny glanced around. "My Dad would love a place like this."

"You've said. Still don't know why you don't ask him more often to--"

"Now, come on, the place I told you about is close by." Jenny plunged ahead, ignoring how the snow often came up to her knees. James hurried to catch up, uttering a curse when a low branch tried to snatch his hat from his head. "Here we are!"

James nearly crashed into her, and he blinked as he looked past her to a chain link fence that had seen better days. Several posts listed to one side, and the fence itself was splotched with rust. On the other side, dead weeds and grass littered a large field. "That's really weird."

Jenny stepped past him, walking along the fence and looking down. "What's weird?"

"Where's all the snow?" James asked.

"Probably the sun melted it."

"Jenny, we had two feet of snow just before the flu hit. I doubt it would be gone by now."

"You know what?" Jenny said without looking up. "You worry too much."

James shook his head, his gaze still sweeping over the field. His eyes fell on a long wooden structure, heavily weathered but still standing, and beyond it a maze of wooden fences and railings. He recognized it at once: it was an area cattle were herded into before loading them on transports. He reasoned this must have been a ranch at some time in the past.

"Here it is!" Jenny said. She smiled and pointed.

James stepped up to her. A post had completely come loose from the ground, and the fence had twisted enough over a low spot to create a gap.

"You don't seriously expect us to--" James began, but Jenny had already dived to the ground and was crawling through. "This is such a bad idea," James muttered as he followed. "Just how in hell can we claim we just wandered in?"

Jenny stood up on the other side. She clasped her hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet. "Oh, this is perfect!" She started towards the structure. "This can be the little house and fields of the peasant girl."

James followed, and his heart raced. Something felt off, like an unnatural sound in the distance only barely audible, or flickers of light persisting at the edge of his vision only to vanish when he tried to look at them. The air felt as if it were faintly electrified.

"This place is creeping me out, we ought to leave," James said in a quavering voice. "Can't you feel it, too?"

Jenny looked around. Save for the low whistle of the wind through gaps in the planks of the structure, the silence was near absolute. "You're ... y-you're imagining things. Come on, help me act out just one crucial scene and we can leave. Oo, look!" She pointed. "That makes a perfect fortress for the evil warlock!"

"Huh? The what?" James looked where she pointed. In the distance was a low structure that appeared as if someone had taken long concrete slabs and laid them together to form a nearly perfectly rectangular building. "Oh, fuck."

"Have to admit, though, looks more like a bunker than a -- hey!"

James grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the fence. "That's because it is a bunker! Shit, this is old man Turner's property!"

"Let go of me!" Jenny cried as she tried to drag him back with little success. "Damn, how the hell did you get so strong all of a sudden? And who the hell is Turner?"

"He's a survivalist nutcase, always raving on about government conspiracies and shit like that," said James. "He's the last person we--"

"Trespassers!" a voice bellowed behind them. "Infiltrators! Get out! Stay away from it!"

"Oh, shit," Jenny said in a tiny voice, and suddenly James didn't have to drag her anymore.

James steeled himself, fully expecting to hear gunfire and feel his flesh and organs torn apart, or, worse, hear Jenny scream in pain from her own wounds. He didn't dare take the time to look behind him, but simply bolted for the fence. His cap flew off and landed in the weeds.

The raving abruptly fell silent for a few moments. Then the man's voice rose again to a shout with a tone more of desperation than anger, "Wait! Come back! We can figure it out together! I didn't know it's happening to you, too!"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Jenny cried.

"Who cares?! Just go!" James yelled.

Jenny yelped when James pushed her through the gap first. His heart pounded so hard his temples throbbed. He tried to place himself between Turner and Jenny like a shield, biting his lip to prevent him from yelling at Jenny to hurry. When she was finally through, James plunged after her.

As James crawled through, Jenny turned and looked past the fence. A man stood hunched over in the thick of the weeds, his face haggard, a rifle clutched to his chest but not pointed at them. Jenny suddenly giggled.

James grabbed her hand and ran from the fence. Jenny frowned and yanked her hand away. "I can walk perfectly well, thank you."

"Don't walk, run!" James cried, though the snow drifts made this an impossibility.

"We got out, we're safe now." Jenny grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. "And I'm the one who knows the way back, remember? You're going the wrong way."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that!" James cried.

"Stop it. We came out okay."

James made an exasperated noise as he face-palmed. "Are you serious?! He could've shot us!"

Jenny paused. "Well, he did have a gun." She smirked. "But it was kinda hard to take him seriously."

James just gaped at her.

"You didn't see him?"

James shook his head.

Jenny giggled. "He had a big mess of bright peach hair and was wearing funny animal ears on his head. He looked even more ridiculous than my big sister."
> Chapter 4 - Tea And Secrets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of all the disasters Starlight Glimmer had anticipated concerning high tea with Princess Celestia, she encountered something far more dreadful than any she had imagined: boredom.

Starlight managed not to sigh as she levitated her cup of tea and took a sip. Not being much of a tea drinker in the first place, she had nursed her first cup while Twilight and Celestia were on their third. For perhaps the tenth time she tried to shoot Twilight an imploring look, but her alicorn friend continued to go on and on and on in her discussion with Celestia about the changeling negotiations.

"Starlight Glimmer, you've been rather quiet."

"Gah!" The cup shook in Starlight's faltering magical grip at the sound of Celestia's voice, spilling tea all over the front of her cushion.

Celestia smiled. "Allow me." Her horn glowed as she picked up a napkin and dabbed the wet spot.

"Sorry," Starlight said in a sheepish voice. "I, um, guess I haven't had much to say, Princess."

"Indeed?" said Celestia as she tossed the spent napkin into a waste basket. "From the way Twilight tells it, you are usually quite vocal in your opinions."

Starlight raised an eyebrow at Twilight. "Oh, is that what she said?"

"I meant it in a good way, of course," said Twilight with a smile. "You've taught me almost as much as I've taught you."

Starlight's gaze softened. "Well, um, thank you."

Celestia poured herself some more tea. "You appear to be brooding. Please, do speak what is on your mind."

Starlight's gaze flicked from Twilight back to Celestia. "Well, Princess Luna had told us she would speak to you about the matter concerning that house on Old Canterlot Way."

Celestia paused before setting down the tea kettle.

"Yes, thank you for bringing that up," said Twilight. She turned to her former mentor. "Did she ask you about it?"

"Yes, she did," Celestia said softly. She slowly smiled. "Thank you for expressing your concern, Twilight, but I assure you, the matter is in capable hooves."

"Oh." Twilight exchanged a troubled look with Starlight. "So you don't need us to investigate?"

Celestia's eyes briefly slid over to Starlight before returning to Twilight. "Us?"

"Where Starlight is my student in magic as well as friendship, I intended to include her. She expressed a keen interest in assisting."

"Very commendable, both of you," said Celestia. "But, as I said, unnecessary."

"So you already know what this anomaly is?" Twilight asked.

Celestia paused to take a sip of tea. "I do, and I have taken care of it."

Starlight frowned.

"What was it?" Twilight asked.

"A transient incursion of chaos energy," said Celestia.

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

"I shall make a note to take this up with Discord."

"But ..." Twilight exchanged a helpless look with Starlight.

Starlight gestured with a hoof and mouthed the words "go on."

Twilight took a deep breath and turned back to Celestia. "Princess, with all due respect, I think I know chaos energy when I see it, and this wasn't it."

Celestia set down her cup. "Twilight, I admire your ability to disagree with me when you feel strongly enough about something, but in this case, I fear I must insist that you accept my answer."

Starlight shook her head.

Twilight slowly nodded at Celestia. "All right, Princess. Thank you."

Starlight face-hoofed.

Celestia glanced at Starlight. "In fact, Twilight, might I suggest that you put your prodigious energies to better use, such as continuing your friendship lessons with your young protégé here."

"Oh, well, we are," said Twilight. "It just hasn't been our sole focus of late."

"Nevertheless, it is where your talents are most needed at the moment."

Starlight blinked. "Huh?"

Celestia gave her a gentle smile. "You are already a very powerful unicorn, dear Starlight, thus a shift of your focus back to friendship would be most prudent. Just a suggestion, of course."

Starlight gave Twilight a puzzled look, but Twilight could only shrug in confusion.

Celestia rose to her hooves. "As lovely as this has been, I must return to my duties. Thank you, Twilight, Starlight. Always a pleasure to see you."

Twilight started to open her mouth, but Celestia had already turned and headed away.





"I can't believe you let the Princess trot all over you like that!" Starlight exclaimed as they left the palace.

"I did no such thing," Twilight declared. "I simply deferred to her greater wisdom."

Starlight snorted. "Greater wisdom my flank. She's hiding something."

Twilight gasped. "Starlight! That's a terrible thing to say about Celestia!"

"Even if it's true?"

"Stop it. This really isn't up for discussion."

Starlight frowned. "You do realize you're her peer, right? You really don't need her permission."

"She's a ruler of Equestria, and I'm not," said Twilight. "She outranks me. Besides, it's common courtesy to defer to her in matters concerning Canterlot itself."

"Oh, right, just like you 'deferred' during your brother's wedding," said Starlight. "I saw the look on your face in there. You didn't buy what Celestia was saying, either."

Twilight sighed. "I admit, I was disappointed we couldn't investigate, but if she says that the matter has been cleared up, there's nothing to do."

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'll be the judge of that." She turned and cantered away.

"Huh? Wait, Starlight! Where are you going?" Twilight cried.

"To Old Canterlot Way! I want to see for myself just how much this has been 'taken care of.' Now, you coming along?"

Twilight galloped to catch up. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not? Last time I looked, we're free ponies allowed to do whatever we want within the law. Unless Princess Celestia comes up with some decree that we can't--"

"All right, all right!" Twilight cried. "You can be one stubborn unicorn when you want to be."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Now, come on."





Starlight was the first to enter the old street, with Twilight trotting just behind her, glancing about nervously as if expecting to see the royal guard suddenly swoop down on them and demand to know what they were doing. Despite knowing full well she did not have to defer to Celestia in everything, Twilight still sometimes had trouble shaking loose of her old role as Celestia's student.

Starlight stopped before the building and glanced up. "This is the place, right?"

Twilight stopped next to her. "Yes."

Starlight tilted her head and frowned. She lighted her horn briefly, then stepped forward. "Hrmm."

"See, I told you we could trust her," said Twilight. "I'm not sensing the disturbance anymore, either."

Starlight lifted a fore-hoof and poked the air before her. Magic rippled and swirled. "Then explain to me why the seal is still in place."

"It is?" Twilight stepped forward and repeated the gesture. "Well, maybe she forgot to remove it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You don't seriously believe that."

"Ponies forget things all the time, Starlight."

"She's the immortal Princess of the Sun! I don't think she would forget something like this." She sighed and stepped back. "Fine, I'll go take a closer look myself."

A magical aura surrounded her entire body, and she levitated herself until she came level with where Twilight had detected the anomaly the strongest.

"Well?" Twilight called up from below.

"I'm not detecting the anomalous magic."

"Good. Now, let's get to the train station and--"

Starlight turned towards her companion on the ground. "But what I am detecting is a shield!"

Twilight's mouth dropped open. She extended her wings and flew up to Starlight, turning her glowing horn towards the building. "You're right!"

"So tell me again how Princess Celestia is not hiding something?"

"But, well, there's got to be a logical explanation for this."

"Yeah, there is. The anomaly is still there, and all that's happened is that the Princess slapped a shield around it."

"But this makes no sense," said Twilight. "If she did want to hide this from me, she would know I could detect a shield. I mean, you detected it, for goodness sake."

"Unless she expected you to be a good little former student and do whatever she told you to do, and this was just to prevent other ponies from finding it." Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Or it's here to prevent whatever this is from getting worse."

"But that would mean she doesn't know what to do," Twilight countered. "And in that case, she'd come right to me for help. She did it when Discord showed up, she did it with the Crystal Empire, she did it with Tirek, so why wouldn't she do it now?"

Starlight lowered herself to the ground, Twilight joining her as the levitation aura faded. "I honestly don't know," said Starlight in a more contrite voice. "But none of this is adding up, and that means we should investigate anyway. Admit it, you can't give me a good reason why we shouldn't."

Twilight glanced first up at the building and then back the way they had come. "I feel like it would be going behind Celestia's back."

Starlight stepped up to her. "You said before that Princess Celestia outranks you, but so does Princess Luna, and she's obviously concerned about it. How about doing it for her sake?"

"We haven't spoken to her since yesterday," said Twilight. "She could very well be content with Celestia's explanation."

"Now you're really grasping at straws, Twilight."

"Can you blame me? You're asking me to reject the trust I've built up between myself and Celestia!"

"Then prove it to yourself that there's something to actually be worried about here!"

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Well, that depends," said Starlight. "Can you break through the shield?"

Twilight recoiled. "I'm not dispelling the shield! If it is there to contain--"

Starlight waved a hoof. "Fine, then can you find a way to look through it? All I want to do is confirm the anomaly is still there."

"Hmm," Twilight mused. "That might be tricky."

"Well, if anypony can do it, you can." Starlight smirked. "I've had first-hoof experience with how good you are with shield spells. You don't want to know how many times in our, ah, altercation that I wanted to scream at you to stop with the stupid shields already."

Twilight smiled faintly. "All right, let me see what I can do." She flew back up the side of the building. "I think I can project an energy wave at the shield that will cause it to resonate at a specific frequency, which in turn will ripple through the thaumic matrix and reflect back to me an impression of the anomalous energy on the other side."

Starlight grinned. "In other words, you're going to make it ring like a bell and listen for the echo."

"Didn't I just say that?"

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Right."

Twilight's horn glowed. "Here goes." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "Hmm. The shield is a bit stiffer than expected, but ... wait, I'm getting some interference ... let me work around it, and--" She suddenly gasped and recoiled, her eyes flying open as the glow in her horn died.

"What happened?" Starlight called up.

Twilight dashed to the ground, landing with a hard clop of her hooves. "There's an additional spell on the shield. It's like an anti-tampering alarm. If I had continued any further, I would've triggered it!"

"Uh-huh," said Starlight. "But, of course, Princess Celestia isn't hiding anything. Nope, not a thing."

Twilight frowned and folded her wings. "You've made your point."

"Now can we investigate?"

Twilight glanced up at the building. "Well, we can't do anything here, not without alerting Celestia to what we're doing."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess our next course of action is to head over to the Canterlot Archives," said Starlight.

Twilight smiled. "Of course! We know the approximate time period when somepony last lived here. We should examine any document that might be relevant."

"So long as we don't have any trouble retrieving them."

"What trouble could there possibly be, especially with my old friend Wordy Scroll running the archives now?"





Twilight's pupils shrank. "What do you mean, 'no'?!"

Wordy Scroll cringed and tucked his tail between his hind legs. "I-I'm terribly sorry. This is very awkward, you know, you being a good friend and a princess yourself--"

"Yes, I am a princess!" Twilight bellowed. "Therefore, I order you to give me access to those documents!"

"But I can't!" Wordy whined. "Princess Celestia herself has placed a temporary hold on all information pertaining to that time period."

"This is ridiculous!" Twilight thundered. "She wouldn't restrict it from me, a fellow princess and former student!"

"She was very specific in her wording, Twily. She said absolutely nopony but herself shall have access to them until further notice, no exceptions. She did say she hoped it would not be for long, so perhaps if you come back in a few days?"

"I doubt that will help," Starlight muttered.

"I'm beginning to agree with you," said Twilight.

Starlight stepped closer and whispered, "You sure you don't want me to, ah, I don't know, drop a mind magic spell or two on him?"

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "Absolutely not."

Starlight shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Twilight turned back to Wordy. "Can I at least ask you to not report this to Celestia?"

Wordy scraped the floor with a hoof. "She told me I was supposed to report all inquiries for--"

"Can you do it as a favor to an old friend? Please?"

"Oh, all right," said Wordy in a reluctant voice. "I promise not to tell her about this."

Twilight let out a windy sigh. "Thank you."

"If you want, I can send you a letter when Celestia lifts the restriction."

"Yes, you do that," said Twilight as she turned away.

Wordy gave them a sad look as they left.

"And I know what you want to say," said Twilight in irritation as they stepped outside. "So don't."

"I don't think I have to," said Starlight.

Twilight lowered her head, her ears drooping. "This really has me upset, Starlight. Not only is this forcing me not to trust Celestia, it's like she doesn't trust me anymore. I don't know what to do."

"You said when you were young, Princess Cadance used to foalsit you. So she was likely old enough to recall if anything had happened about the time the building was sealed."

Twilight looked up. "That's a great idea. I'll dictate a letter to Spike as soon as we're back in the castle. Maybe she can shed some light on this."





Twilight's horn glowed, and yet another book slipped from a high shelf in her library and floated to the table beside a growing tower of similar books. Her hooves echoed in the quiet as she stepped over to the table and flipped it open with her magic. She frowned in concentration before finally slamming the book closed. She turned away as she levitated it to the top of the stack.

At the door, a wary Spike drummed his claws together. "Um, Twilight? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Twilight looked up and selected another book. "I'm trying to find any evidence of some historical event that led to that building being sealed."

Spike stepped inside just as the latest book landed on the table. He picked it up. "The Illustrated History Of Furniture?"

"Look, I'm desperate, okay?" Twilight said as she snatched the book out of his claws in her magic. "Maybe the place had a magical sofa that got out of hoof. Or an enchanted hassock that developed an attitude."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Twilight skimmed through the book before closing it and levitating it to the top of the stack. "No theory is too crazy, Spike."

Gentle hoofsteps stopped at the door, and a soft voice said, "Um, is this a bad time?"

Twilight turned. "Not at all, Fluttershy, please come in," she said in a lower voice.

Fluttershy stepped inside. "Starlight said you wanted to see me?"

Twilight approached her. "You said Discord is always telling you funny stories about stuff he did, right?"

Fluttershy smiled. "Oh, yes. They're pretty amusing."

"Do you recall him saying he did anything in Canterlot?"

"He's played pranks on Princess Celestia from time to time, if that's what you mean."

"Did he ever mention the street Old Canterlot Way?"

Fluttershy looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, not that I can recall. Why?"

Twilight sighed and turned away. "Just checking on something, that's all."

Fluttershy stepped towards her friend. "You seem really upset, Twilight. Is there something I can do to help? Did Discord do something he shouldn't?"

"Not this time, apparently." Twilight muttered, "That would've been too easy."

"I don't understand," said Fluttershy.

Spike turned towards her. "Apparently, Princess Celestia is hiding something--"

"We don't know that for sure yet!" Twilight cried.

"--inside a sealed building in an older section of Canterlot."

Fluttershy's eyes widened. "Oh, my, why would she do that?"

Twilight whirled around. "Exactly my point! There couldn't possibly be anything so bad that--"

Spike abruptly belched green fire, and a scroll popped into existence. He grabbed it in his claws and started to unroll it. "It's from Princess Cadance."

"Starlight!" Twilight called out. "We got a reply!"

A few moments later, Starlight rushed inside.

Spike unrolled the scroll fully. "Ahem. Dearest Twilight, it is always a pleasure to hear from you, and, of course, Shining Armor sends his love as well. I do know of the street of which you speak, but unfortunately I know of no incident that would result in a building being magically sealed. The only event of import during that time period was Auntie Celestia having a hard time dealing with the Griffon Kingdom, and she once confided in me that she worried the situation would result in war. I know you are upset that Celestia appears to be acting in an uncar ... um ... uncharack ... uh ..."

Twilight glanced over his shoulder. "Uncharacteristically."

"What-she-said secretive manner," continued Spike. "But my experience has been that she always does things for a reason. Perhaps a little more time and patience is all that is needed. Please keep Shining Armor and myself informed of the situation. Love, Cadance."

"Well, that was a big dead end," Starlight muttered.

"Or maybe not," said Twilight. "There's a lot about that period of time that is not publicly known. Celestia's final round of negotiations with the griffons was carried out largely in secret, and the details of the final peace treaty were sealed."

"But don't you have access to that information?" Fluttershy asked.

Twilight sighed. "Well, I did. I never bothered to go look at the details myself after I became a princess."

Starlight grinned. "Obviously due to your lingering trauma over that A-minus."

"Yes."

Starlight blinked. "Um, I was kidding."

Spike leaned over to her. "But she's not."

"But what would griffons have to do with a sealed building in Canterlot?" asked Fluttershy.

"I'm not sure," said Twilight. "But I have an idea how we might find out."





A piercing whistle sounded in the skies high above Ponyville, where several young pegasi hovered above slowly drifting clouds. They immediately stopped chatting and turned their full attention to their rainbow-maned instructor.

Rainbow Dash let the whistle fall from her mouth and hang from her neck by its string. "Okay, listen up, you noobs! I want a show of hooves. Who thinks they know how to fly?"

The pegasi exchanged confused glances. Slowly, they all put up a fore-hoof.

Rainbow nodded seemingly in approval. "Hmm, all of you, I see," she mused as she drifted towards the front ranks of the pegasi. She suddenly knocked the raised fore-hoof of the nearest pegasus aside. "Wrong answer! Yeah, maybe you know how to flap your wings and stay airborne, but there's flying, and there's weather flying. Controlling the weather takes a whole other set of skills. Maybe some of you are fast, but, again, there's a huge difference between flying in a straight line and making a sharp turn to corral a storm."

She hovered back and forth before them. "Now, the basics are actually not that hard. Pegasi have a natural instinct for this. Left on your own, you'd figure it out. You'll be at least competent." She stopped and faced them. "But if you're gonna be on my weather team, you gotta be better than competent, and I let only the best handle weather over Sweet Apple Acres! Now, first things first. I'm gonna run you through some simple exercises ..."

After she had all the pegasi performing basic tasks like pushing clouds together and generating breezes or light rain showers, she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Hey, Rainbow."

Rainbow Dash turned around. "Oh, hi, Twilight."

Twilight flew up to her. She glanced towards the others. "Latest batch of recruits?"

Rainbow grinned. "Yeah. Typical noobs. I think I can whip them into shape." She leaned over and whispered, "They're actually showing some good promise, but don't tell them I said that."

Twilight chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me."

"So what's up?"

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"Sure thing! This first class won't take long. What do you need?"

"I need you to talk to your friend Gilda."

Rainbow's eyes widened. "Gilda? As in, head off to the Griffon Kingdom and talk to her kinda thing?"

"I know it's a bit of a long trip, but--"

Rainbow snorted and waved a hoof. "Did you forget who you're talking to? Only reason it took a while last time was because I was with Pinkie. If I'm going solo on this, I can get there a lot faster. What do you want me to talk to Gilda about?"

"I want you to ask her if she or anyone she knows has any knowledge about a geopolitical incident between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdom about twenty years ago."

Rainbow blinked. "A geo-what now?"

Twilight sighed. "Just ask her if she knows of any stories about her people and ponies going to war over something."

"Wow, that actually happened?"

"Some sort of incident, yes, but thankfully not a war. Other than that, though, I'm having difficulty tracking down information about it."

Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane. "I dunno, this is starting to sound like egghead stuff."

Twilight smiled, her horn glowing as she plucked a scroll from her mane and gave it to Rainbow. "No worries, I jotted down a few talking points."

Rainbow let the scroll unfold. She quickly lost sight of the other end through a cloud far below. "Er ... right. Look, this sounds like something more up your alley. Why send me?"

"It's a bit of a long story," said Twilight. "Let's just say I don't want to raise certain suspicions and leave it at that."

Rainbow smiled. "Okay, now it's starting to sound interesting. So I should keep this quiet?"

"Definitely."

"You got it, Twilight! I won't let you down, I promise."





Twilight's hooves echo far more than usual as she trots towards her former mentor's throne room. She is both mystified and worried by this unexpected summons, delivered to her as if she is still but the lowly student. She tells herself she has no reason to fear this invitation despite its urgency, yet she cannot shake the feeling that she is being called to task for something she has done.

"No, stop it, you're being silly," says Twilight, her voice sounding much louder than normal, echoing as if she is in an enormous, abandoned chamber rather than the halls of Canterlot Palace. "You're a princess yourself. As Starlight said, I'm her peer."

Nevertheless, she pauses at doors that soar overhead into infinity and swallows hard. Her heart hammers, and her eyes glisten with uncertainly. She finally takes a deep breath, steels herself, and throws the doors open.

"It is about time you got here!" a voice thunders from the other side of the room.

Twilight gasps and backs up a step, one fore-hoof raised and trembling as she stares at the visage sitting upon Celestia's throne. Her mane is ablaze, as if on fire, and her eyes glow with such intensity that Twilight cannot stare at them for more than a few seconds at a time.

Twilight turns her head away. "I got here as soon as I could!"

"Lies!" Celestia's voice booms, shaking the floor with its vehemence. "You compound your falsehoods with more falsehoods! I will not tolerate this!"

Twilight forces herself to raise her head and twist her muzzle into a deep frown. "And I will not tolerate being treated this way! I am a fellow princess, and thus deserving of--"

Celestia throws her head back and laughs before leveling her gaze at Twilight. "You will be silent." She slowly descends from the throne, each hoofstep leaving behind a smoking, charred mark in its wake. Her cutie mark glows as if it is the sun itself.

"Why?!" Twilight demands. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Oh, my dear little Twilight, how can you be so naive after all these years?" Celestia sneers. "OF COURSE THOU HAST DONE SOMETHING TO OFFEND US!"

Twilight shivers as she jams her fore-hooves to her ears. She has never heard Celestia use the Royal Canterlot Voice in such close proximity and hopes she never does again.

"Did you not think I would find out?" says Celestia. "Did you not think I would notice your attempts to cover it up?"

A cold knot of fear settles into Twilight's stomach. "I-I can explain! Please, let me--"

Celestia stomps a fore-hoof against the floor, shattering tile and glass. "There can be no explanation for this!"

"But I was only concerned about the safety of Canterlot!" Twilight wails. "I was concerned about YOU!"

Celestia raises an eyebrow. "What are you babbling about?"

Twilight hesitates, glancing to the side. "Isn't this about the anomaly I'm investigating?"

Celestia fixes her burning gaze on her former student, and at once Twilight feels as if she is in an oven. "What I speak of, little pony, is THIS ..."

In a sparkle of magic, a paper materializes on the floor before Twilight's hooves. She tilts her head in confusion until she sees the "A-" in red in the upper right corner. She gasps and recoils. "Wh-what??"

"Look what it says, you miserable excuse for a princess!" Celestia declares. "A-MINUS!"

Twilight's pupils shrink to pin-pricks. "Y-You can't be serious!"

"NO PRINCESS OF OUR REALM SHALL BISMIRCH HER ALICORNHOOD WITH SUCH A DISGUSTING GRADE!"

"I have no idea how it happened!" Twilight bellows in as much rage as fear. "Don't you think I agonized over it for weeks?! I got one little reference wrong! The teacher recalled seeing something else in the text, but I was sure ... I ..."

Twilight's mouth drops open.

"And you continue to compound your crime with more worthless blather!"

Twilight is not listening. "Wait! That oddity that happened earlier with the ledger, when Starlight and I saw something different ... what if that's what happened to me with that paper? What if the text somehow changed between when I read it and my teacher did?" She gasped. "Then there IS a connection with the griffons! But how could text be made to--"

She is startled out of her reverie by Celestia stomping both fore-hooves on the floor. Twilight shrieks as a crack in the floor shoots towards her, and she just barely makes it into the air in time.

Celestia steps forward. "You do not deserve to be an alicorn, but we have no recorded means to demote you. So I will invent one now." Her eyes become blinding, and her horn blazes. "I will burn your wings off."

"No, stop, wait!" Twilight cries.

"SISTER!"

Twilight's heart leaps into her throat as another earth-shaking voice joins the fray. Celestia turns in time to see Luna approaching, her mane and eyes similarly ablaze. "Do you think to do this without me present?" Luna booms. "I am disappointed."

"Far be it from me to deny my own kin," says Celestia. "Would you prefer to take the first shot?"

Luna's mouth twists into a terrifyingly feral smile. "Gladly."

Her horn and eyes blaze. Twilight whimpers and covers her eyes with her hooves. She flinches when she hears a blast of energy, followed by a scream, and then nothing.

"Twilight," says Luna in a far gentler voice. "It is okay. You may open your eyes."

Twilight swallows and drops her hooves. A smoking crater stands where Celestia once did. "Y-You ... you just ..."

Luna steps forward, her eyes and mane back to normal. "This is a dream, Twilight."

"A dream? Oh, thank Celestia! Um, I mean--"

Luna chuckles. "It is all right. I am sorry I did not come sooner."

Twilight shakes her head. "No, it's fine. This actually helped me come to a realization about something."

"I do hope it is about that anomaly."

"It is. But how did you know?"

"More of a fortuitous guess." Luna sighs. "Twilight, I hope this means you are actively investigating it, as it removes a tremendous burden from me."

"What burden is that?"

"The burden of begging you to take on this task."

Twilight's eyes widen. "Beg me? Why?"

Luna starts to pace. "I am worried for my sister. She is acting increasingly paranoid about this subject. Something is wrong, and she refuses to tell me."

Twilight lands and steps up to Luna. "Celestia is blocking everypony from obtaining any information from the Archives about that time period."

Luna nods. "I am aware."

"If you can do anything to get me around that block--"

"I fear I cannot." She pauses. "But there is something I can obtain for you. I do not believe that Tia is aware I know of its existence. It is a private journal she has kept for many, many years. It covers many volumes, but I believe I can find one from that time period."

Twilight's pupils shrink. "You mean, like a diary? But that ... that will have a lot of personal information in it! I feel like I would be violating her privacy if I read it."

"I will not force you to read it. I will give it to you, and you will choose to do as you wish with it."

Twilight lowers her head. "I don't know about this, Luna."

Luna steps forward and places a fore-hoof gently on Twilight's shoulder. "I understand, but I fear whatever this is, it is bigger than anything we can imagine. We need to get to the bottom of it. For my sister's sake."

Twilight lifts her head. "I'll do everything I can to help."

> Chapter 5 - Responsibility
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of arguing.

"--wasn't me who spent five zillion hours washing her hair."

"This is not my fault!"

"If you hadn't gotten your hair all stupidly orange and curly--"

"For the last time, Jenny, I didn't do this!"

"Even Mom didn't believe it at first. She had to go and call Doctor Conner to--"

"That was only to ask about Dad's chemicals in the basement!"

Sarah groaned and rolled over in bed. "Harry?" she said in a groggy voice. Can you go see what they're ... urg ..."

The other half of the bed was empty.

She slid her legs over the side and frowned as she glanced at her cell phone. Greg had sent her a text message. She grabbed the phone as she stood up and struggled into a robe as fast as her half-awake state would allow.

Sarah opened the door to her bedroom and flinched when the argument erupted into full volume. Laura was dressed while Jenny still stood in a bath robe.

"All I'm saying is, just because you're the Fae Queen doesn't mean you get to hog the shower," Jenny said in a lofty voice.

Laura covered her eyes with a hand. "Will you please stop calling me that?"

"Sorry, Your Majesty, but your secret is out. Your magic is so powerful that you cannot disguise your true nature any longer. Why, I bet your ears will go all elfin by lunchtime."

Laura shivered hard. "I swear, Jenny, I am one step away from--"

"Enough!" Sarah declared. She pressed the back of her hand holding the cell phone to her forehead briefly and sighed. "I don't even want to know what this is about. I have a very busy day ahead of me and don't need this. Jenny, go take your shower before you're late for school."

"Can't," said Jenny. "Carrot-top here broke the water heater."

"I did not break it!" Laura bellowed.

"Laura, lower your voice," Sarah said.

"All that happened was that the pilot light went out again," said Laura. "Dad's in the basement fixing it now."

"He's been at it for twenty minutes," muttered Jenny.

"Then take a cold shower," said Sarah.

"But it's freezing in here already!"

"Jenny, I don't want to hear it," Sarah said. "You're already one step away from being grounded for your little escapade at the mill. Don't push it."

Jenny sighed dramatically and turned away. "Fine," she muttered before stomping towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Laura gave her mother a sheepish look. "Um, I better finish getting ready for school."

"Wait," said Sarah.

Laura's shoulders sagged as she turned back around.

Sarah stepped up to her. "This is not like you, Laura. You generally don't let her rile you up so much that you openly argue with her."

Laura could not bring herself to meet Sarah's eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I'd like to know why it happened at all. I usually can count on you to be the mature one. So what's going on?"

Laura slowly raised her eyes to her mother's. "I'm really worried about what's happening to me, Mom."

Sarah touched one of Laura's curls. "Well, I can't promise that you won't take some teasing from this, but--"

"That's not what I mean. I woke up this morning feeling ... well, weird."

Sarah folded her arms. "Define 'weird'."

"That's just it, I can't. I mean, sometimes it's like a buzzing in my ears. Sometimes a tingling or ache in a strange place. I don't feel normal, and I don't mean just the hair." She paused. "When Jenny made that stupid joke about my ears, it really got to me. I'm not sure why."

"She's just trying to push your buttons," said Sarah.

Laura shook her head. "I don't think that's it. I don't even understand it myself."

Sarah gave her daughter a concerned look. "Do you want to see Doctor Conner again?"

"I'm not sure what that would accomplish. Even he didn't know what was up with my hair. All I can do is wait for the test results to come back."

"If it helps any, I made your father pack away his chemicals for now."

"I honestly don't think that caused it," said Laura. "Even the doctor said so."

Sarah was beginning to realize the same thing, but she wanted to feel like she was doing something to help. "All right. If you do start feeling sick, don't hesitate to tell me about it."

Laura nodded. "I won't."

"I'll go see how Harry is doing," Sarah said as she started to turn away.

Laura gasped. "Mom!"

Sarah whirled back around. "What is it?"

Laura's eyes were wide. "Y-your hair ... there's a big streak of red through it!"

Sarah scrambled to reach around behind her and pull her hair into view. Where a narrow band of cherry red hair had been excised the night before, she now had a streak two inches wide and stretching further up towards the top of her head.

"That's how it started with me," Laura said in a hollow voice. "Streaks up the back that spread."

Sarah stared as if she were still trying to convince herself what she was seeing.

"Mom, what the hell is happening?"

"I have no clue," said Sarah in a toneless voice.





Harold muttered a curse as he tried unsuccessfully for the seventh time to light the pilot on the aging water heater. He told himself that it was the heater that was faulty and not himself, but that proved difficult when plagued by memories of that returned letter.

He drew back from the heater and stood up as he heard footsteps descending into the basement. He turned around to see his wife step off the stairs, her finger tapping out a text message.

"Honey, you know you make me nervous when you text at the same time you're trying to navigate those steep stairs," said Harold.

Sarah unerringly weaved around boxes as she approached, head still down. "And I keep telling you I do this all the time at digs and never had an accident."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "So what's the deal?"

"Greg's going to get pics of those petroglyphs."

"That soon?"

Sarah finished sending her message and looked up. "He doesn't want to take any chances that something will happen to them."

"They're kinda attached to the cliff, aren't they? Not like someone can steal them."

"Yes, but they're easy to deface."

"You two really believe that could happen?"

Sarah frowned. "After that debacle where all the artifacts were stolen from that previous dig, I wouldn't be surprised."

"You sound almost like you think someone would do this on purpose."

"I want to believe it was a one-off, Harry," said Sarah. "But where it was the one dig that had the exact hard evidence I needed for my theories, I can't help but be a little wary."

"It's distracting you from your writing."

Sarah sighed. "I know. I'm going to try to catch up today."

Harold nodded. While he still had a job, her book had been a means for her to further her career. Now it represented food on the table if Harold couldn't find work soon. He tried not to point it out too many times, as it invariably led to an argument over decisions that had long since been made, like her shift in career or taking in Bob.

Sarah glanced past her husband. "Any luck?"

"No," Harold said, turning back towards the heater. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with it, I ... uh, Sarah, what are you doing?"

Sarah had stepped up behind him and turned down his collar. "That blue hair is spreading."

Harold tugged his collar back up. "Worry about your own hair." He turned around, reaching a hand behind Sarah's head and letting her fine fair spill through his fingers. "I saw that red streak you're sporting."

"Aren't you the least bit perturbed by this?" Sarah asked.

"You mean more so than the prospect of spending twelve hundred dollars on a new heater because I'm not competent enough to fix this one?"

Sarah lowered her head, pressing her hands to her husband's chest. "Don't do this to yourself, please," she said in a soft voice.

Harold sighed. "Pay no attention to me."

Sarah looked up. "If your father doesn't want to talk to you, that's his problem, not yours."

"Yeah, but what if he's right?"

Sarah took a step back and gave him a wary look. "About what?"

"About a lot of things."

"All he's doing is trying to guilt you into coming back to help him with the farm, and he doesn't even need you for that, he has your sister. She was more than happy to step in."

Harold scratched his head. "Yeah, but you know how he feels. Traditional roles and all that."

Sarah pressed her finger into his chest. "Again, his problem, not yours. I know you spent a lot of time on that farm as a kid, but you don't owe him."

"Yeah, but what was my reason for leaving?" Harold said. "Because I didn't see a future in farming."

"And that's a perfectly valid reason."

"Not in his eyes."

Sarah tilted her head. "What's gotten into you? I know this thing with your father is really bothering you, but you can't just throw away a life you've made for yourself."

Harold said nothing.

"Harry, do me a favor," said Sarah. "Call your sister."

"The last thing she needs is a sob story from me."

"You mean the world to her." Sarah gave him a lopsided grin. "I could wish for a sister as great as yours."

Harold smiled faintly. "Yeah, all right, I will."





Tina smiled broadly as her friend approached. "Well, look at you. You're braver than I am."

Laura rolled her eyes as she approached, her curls bouncing with her walk. "Says the girl with half-pink hair."

"Yeah, but that's my thing," said Tina as she transferred books from her locker to her satchel. "Not yours. What made you ..." Her voice suddenly strained and broke up into a coughing fit. "... made you go au naturale?" She coughed again and frowned. "Fuck, I hate this post-flu crap. It takes forever to go away."

Laura wanted to give the real answer, that she felt it was the mature thing to do. She had to show she could take a few snickers and odd looks. Her little sister had not helped by spreading the nickname "carrot top" among the students, as if Jenny were purposely testing her. Sometimes Laura believed that was true. Sometimes she felt Jenny had every right to do so even if she wasn't.

"I guess I figured I'd try out the new look?" Laura said, forcing a small smile.

Tina smirked. "Uh-huh. Right. I know you too well, Laura. You're about as straight-laced as they come."

Laura sighed. "Fine, I have other reasons, but I don't want to go into them right now."

Tina shrugged. "Fair enough." She closed her locker. "Hey, if it helps any, you don't seem to be the only one with weird hair issues."

Laura's eyes widened. "I'm not?"

"You know Josie? She's got this really wild streak of purple through her hair. She said she has no idea how it happened, but she sorta likes it." Tina grinned. "Her Mom? Not so much. I think she's gonna drag Josie to the doctor."

"Are you serious?" Laura said in a hushed voice. "Is there anyone else?"

"Not that I know of, but I haven't been looking."

"Maybe you should," Laura said. "Maybe we both should. This can't be normal."

Tina leaned against her locker. "This really has you riled up, doesn't it?" she asked in a more serious tone.

"The same thing is happening to my mother," Laura said. "And I think I saw something odd about Dad's hair, too."

"Wow. You think you all got into the same thing, whatever it is?"

"I don't know. Jenny doesn't have it. Neither does Bob. But now people at school have it, that has to mean this is spreading somehow."

Tina snorted. "Have to admit, I kinda wish it would happen to me."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Come on, be serious!"

"Hey, good hair dye is expensive. If I could have magically colored hair, I'd do it in an instant. But, yeah, okay, I see where you're coming from. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

"Thanks," said Laura. "We better get on to class."

"Seeya later."

Laura turned and headed away. Like her mother, she had no idea what this would accomplish. She simply wanted to feel like she was doing something.





Jenny dashed through the main hallway of the school at the end of the school day, her eyes falling on her still behatted friend as he headed to the exit. "James!" she shouted nearly at the top of her lungs to the annoyed glances of her peers, but he kept on walking.

Jenny plunged through the crowd again, elbowing people out of her way. She finally cleared them and jogged after her wayward friend. "James, wait up!"

James kept walking, but he slowed enough for Jenny to catch up. "James, I have a fantastic idea for expanding the scene we talked about yesterday. I got the idea this morning from my mother. Well, indirectly from her. Anyway, what if the magic of the Fae Queen starts to spread through the kingdom and--"

James finally halted and spun around to face her. "Jenny, we ... I have to head straight home, I'm sorry."

Jenny just stared, even as he resumed walking. She jogged to catch up. "What for?"

"Because I've been told to by my mother, that's why."

Jenny's eyes widened. "You got yourself grounded?"

James stopped to face her again. "I'd be lucky if that's what I got!"

Jenny recoiled. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

James glanced away for a moment. "I've been told to stay away from you, and the only way I can do that--"

"Stay away from me?!"

"--is to head straight home. If I spend any time at all out here, you're just going to tag along and--"

Jenny frowned. "I thought you wanted me to tag along."

"Dammit, I do!" James cried. "I want to hang out with you, Jenny. I like you. A lot."

Jenny hesitated, then slowly smiled. "A lot, huh?"

"Yes, and now thanks to your lunacy that doesn't matter anymore."

"My, what?" Jenny sighed. "Okay, fine, maybe yesterday wasn't the brightest thing I've ever done, but nothing happened. We got out okay."

James shook his head.

"What are you not telling me?" Jenny demanded.

"One of the rangers who manage the hiking trails saw us heading away from that property."

"Um, okay, so?"

"He told a cop, and that cop happens to be a close friend of the family," said James.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me. That's one hell of a coincidence."

"You still don't get what living in a small town like this means," said James. "It means that sort of thing happens a lot."

Jenny's eyes widened. "Are you saying we're in trouble with the law now?" she asked in a small voice.

"We were trespassing, so we could be, if the police really wanted to make a big deal out of it," said James. "They're more concerned about our run-in with old man Turner. Even the cops know he's a flake."

"Then we just won't go over there anymore."

"You're still not getting it," said James in a tired voice. "It doesn't matter because my Mom is convinced you did something to trick me into going over there."

"I did no such thing!" Jenny declared.

"Yes, I know that, and you know that, but I gave up trying to convince my mother."

Jenny frowned and turned away, her hair almost glowing in the bright sunlight. "Well, that's just great. Just fucking great."

James stared and murmured, "What the hell?"

Jenny spun back around. "James, we have to figure out how to get around this somehow. I've never had someone as good as you to bounce ideas off of, and, well, I have to admit, I--"

"Jenny, wait," said James. "Can you turn around again?"

"Huh?"

"Just humor me, please."

Jenny sighed dramatically and turned her back to him. "Just don't get fresh, okay? I, um, like you, too, but I'm not ready for that stuff."

If it had been anyone else, James would have been insulted that she thought he would take advantage of her. Instead, he smirked faintly; Jenny was just being, well, Jenny. He did admit he enjoyed the excuse to stare at her beautiful hair. He set aside his feelings for the moment as he sought to find what he had seen before in blond hair so light it was almost white in the sun. "Jenny, you've got several strands of pink in your hair."

Jenny spun back around. "I what? Where??"

"Um, may I be allowed to show you?" James said in a tentative voice.

"Yes, fine, go ahead."

James stepped around her and delicately grasped the hairs by the tips before bringing them around to Jenny's eyes.

Jenny stared she took the strands in her fingers. Nestled in the otherwise blond hair were several strands of bright bubble-gum pink.

"Pink," Jenny muttered. "Why did it have to be pink? I hate pink. Why couldn't it be blue, like my Dad's hair? That's my favorite color."

"You're taking this a lot better than I did."

Jenny tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Well, if my hair is going to go all anime on me, it might as well be a color I actually like. Just so long as it doesn't curl into those stupid drills. And, frankly--"

She swiftly reached up and snatched James' hat from his head, letting locks of very green hair spill out.

"Hey!" James cried.

"--I think hiding it is silly," Jenny continued. "It's just a change in color. It's not like you're the only one it's happening to."

James snatched the hat back from her and jammed it on his head. "Well, pardon me if I'm not as cavalier about it as you."

"Let me guess: your mother thinks I'm somehow the cause of it."

"I didn't want to say anything, but, yeah. Don't try to figure out how that would even be possible. My Mom is not logical sometimes." James glanced down the street. "Look, I better get going. I'm already going to have to come up with an excuse as to why I'm late. I'm really sorry about this, Jenny. I hope we can get this cleared up soon so we can go back to hanging out together."

Jenny smiled. "So do I. Um, seeya around."

"Yeah, seeya."





Heather glanced over her shoulder as the purple-haired Josie was shepherded out of the office by her irate mother, still muttering under her breath. Heather frowned when she heard the word "quack."

Her gaze tracked over the remaining patients in the waiting area. Two appeared more or less relaxed, one reading a magazine and the other playing a game on his phone. The third patient sat apart, a hat covering his head. Heather caught a bit of magenta peeking out from the edge.

She headed into the back and stepped into Kevin's office. She found him leaned back in his chair, looking at a framed picture in his hands. "Honestly, I don't normally complain about the kinds of ailments we see, but we now have your fifth case of 'lurid hair syndrome' out in the waiting room."

Kevin set the picture back on the shelf over his desk. It depicted himself and a sandy-haired woman, both smiling for the camera before his old practice in Denver. "Josie's mother was not very happy with me when I gave her a diagnosis of chronic purple hair for her daughter."

Heather stepped further inside and closed the door. "I'm going to be brutally honest with you, Kevin. I think you're wasting your time."

"Come again?"

"I know you said it doesn't look like dye, but what else could it be?"

Kevin gave her a skeptical look. "And you think all these people decided to dye their hair at once? And such lurid colors to boot? And so perfectly down to the roots?"

"Yes," said Heather. "I think we've been suckered into some sort of viral advertising campaign."

"Oh, now, don't you think that's a little far-fetched?" said Kevin. "Granted, I want a down-to-earth explanation, but I want a plausible one."

"This stuff happens all the time," said Heather. "So much so anymore that it's starting to become passe. Someone invented the perfect hair dye, and they arranged for a bunch of people to use it and claim their hair magically changed color."

"But Laura Tanner of all people?" said Kevin. "I can't imagine her going for something like this. Not to mention she's underage, so I assume her parents would have to approve. I have a devil of a time seeing Sarah or Harold agree to this."

Heather smirked. "And you've never seen companies resort to unscrupulous tactics before? You need to get out more."

Kevin sighed and glanced back at the picture, but that just reminded him how much he missed Anna. He wondered idly what her keen insight would have had to say about this. He lifted his gaze to Heather. "If there is a company doing something that's jeopardizing the safety of my patients, I have a responsibility to find out. I'm still waiting on those test results from the hair sample I took from Laura. Let's see what that says before we jump to conclusions. I want to be as thorough as possible."

"I know why you're pursuing this," said Heather in a soft voice.

"Oh?"

Heather tapped a finger on the picture.

"Oh." Kevin's gaze drifted back towards it. "This is hardly the same thing."

"She's why you ran yourself to near exhaustion during the flu outbreak, too."

Kevin rubbed his eyes. "Heather ..."

"No, hear me out. Maybe you don't see it, but I think you push yourself so hard because you don't want a repeat of what happened with Anna."

Kevin's eyes glistened slightly as he stared at the picture. Five months after that picture had been taken, just before their twentieth wedding anniversary, Anna was gone, taken by a swiftly growing cancer that Kevin believed had been missed because he had not paid close enough attention.

Because he had not been thorough enough.

"It wasn't even your fault," said Heather.

"I know," said Kevin in a low voice. "I made my peace with that a long time ago. You're probably right, this is likely one big joke that's waiting for the punchline to be delivered."

Heather smiled softly, even if she didn't think that he truly believed that.

Kevin stood. "All I ask in the meantime is that we treat this seriously and professionally."

"Always," Heather replied.





Harold held the phone to his ear, counting rings, hoping he'd have an excuse to try again later. Yet after the fourth ring, a familiar bright voice said, "Hey, little bro! It's been forever since I heard from you!"

Harold slowly smiled. No matter how upset he was, his older sister could be counted on to cheer him up, if only with a simple greeting. "Heya, Mary, how's the life of a country hick treating you?"

Mary laughed. "Eh, it's got its ups and downs, but I do all right."

"Is the farm doing okay?"

"Okay as can be expected. Competition is fierce these days."

Harold's hand tightened around the phone. "How's the old man?"

"I had a feeling you were calling about that," said Mary. "He's as ornery as ever. He doesn't like the fact that he can't do it all himself."

Harold frowned. "He's not supposed to do everything himself. That's why you're there."

"Yeah, but try telling him that. You know he's as stubborn as a mule."

"That's not the reason he's refusing help."

"Yeah, I know. But, hey, it is what it is, and he's just gonna have to accept it. I'm here, you're not."

Harold swallowed. "Mary, be honest with me, okay? Do you regret doing this?"

"My only regret is not being welcomed with open arms," said Mary. "Other than that, you know I always loved the outdoors."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "I still do myself. I'd go out with Sarah on digs more often if it wasn't for having to watch the kids and look for a job. Starting to get a bit of cabin fever. I tried to interest Bob in taking walks with me, but no dice."

"And how's your family doing?"

He hesitated. "A handful, as always."

"Something up?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

Harold smirked. "Still practicing your mind-reading, I see."

Mary snorted. "No, I just know you all too well. Something wrong?"

"Eh, it's going to sound pretty stupid, but ..." He proceeded to explain the family's hair problems.

Mary paused. "Huh."

Harold turned his head when the doorbell rang. He ignored it. "What?"

"Well, the other day when I went into town for groceries, I saw this guy with streaks of cyan in his hair. Overheard him talking to the cashier when she commented on it. Said he didn't know how it happened, he just woke up with it."

"That's a weird coincidence," said Harold.

"It gets better. I chatted with him a bit myself. He had to cut short a trip to your neck of the woods after catching the flu there about two weeks ago."

"Uh, sis? Did you get the flu?"

"No, but I think I'm gonna. Been feeling kinda tired and achy today and I've been getting chills. If you had called a day or two later, I'd probably sound like death warmed over."

Harold's mind raced. He mentally calculated when his family came down with the flu. Laura had been first, then Sarah and himself, then Jenny, then Bob. And now Laura had orange hair, Sarah's hair was turning red, his own blue ...

No, that was stupid. Hair changing color was not a post-flu effect.

Mary coughed before saying, "Little bro? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," said Harold. "Wrapping my mind around the axle over something dumb. Look, the real reason I called is to find out if you know anything about Dad returning my letter."

"Yeah, I do," said Mary in an unusually solemn voice. "I pleaded with him not to do it. I was so angry with him that I was tempted to open the letter and read it out loud to him."

"Does he hate me?"

"No, I don't think so," said Mary. "I mean, he talks a good game, but I think he still loves you. He just acts like a total dumbass sometimes."

Harold wanted to believe her. The last thing he wanted was his father hating him, because it would make it far too easy to hate him in return. "Thanks, sis."

"Hey, I got an idea," said Mary. "After I get over this impending flu, we should get together, just you and me, okay?"

Harold smiled. "Yeah, let's do that. Take care of yourself."

"You, too. Love you, little bro."

"Love you, big sis."





Sarah stopped her furious typing in wake of the chime from her phone only after concluding the paragraph she had been working on. She snatched up the phone and tensed when she saw it was from Greg. She relaxed only after reading the message: got those pics u wanted.

Sarah quickly responded: thx. what took you so long?

Stupid accident on state highway before turnoff. Overturned trailer. Took forever to clean up.

Sarah frowned. Plz secure those pics.

Will do.

Sarah set aside the phone and called up her browser. After a few searches, she found a news report about the accident. A trailer carrying bleach and other caustic cleaning fluids had indeed overturned and required a hazmat team to clean up. It was located right at the point where the access road down to the dig turned off the highway.

"That's a hell of a coincidence," Sarah muttered.

Yet if the site had been disturbed, wouldn't Greg had mentioned that? She shook her head when she realized she was starting to think way too much like old man Turner supposedly did. Maybe Harold was right that she was letting herself get too spooked.

Sarah brought her document forward and was about to continue working on it when the doorbell rang. She turned around and was about to call out to Harold when she heard him in the next room talking to his sister.

She got up and headed to the door. She glanced out the peephole, did a double-take, and yanked open the door.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," said the police officer standing on the front porch.

"Um, afternoon," said Sarah. "Is something the matter?"

"I'd like to talk to you for a few moments about an incident the other day concerning your daughter Jennifer ..."





Jenny hummed a tune to herself as she skipped along the walk like a girl half her age, all the while imagining herself as one of the colorful characters she had conjured for her latest story idea. She tried not to let herself worry over what to do with her budding relationship with James. She tended to think that things had a way of working themselves out given enough time.

Yet when she turned the corner and her house came into view, she realized she had more to worry about than she had realized.

A police officer emerged from her house, turning to tip his hat at her parents before heading back to his patrol car. Jenny took a deep breath. "Okay, stay calm," she whispered. "Maybe it has nothing to do with me."

She headed to her house and quietly let herself in. She heard her parents arguing in Sarah's office as she crept towards the stairs.

"Jenny?" Sarah suddenly called out.

"Um, yeah!" Jenny replied as she bolted up the stairs. "Got tons of homework! Better get straight to it! Bound to keep me busy all--"

Sarah erupted from her office. "Jennifer Penelope Tanner, get down here this instant!"

Jenny cringed before she reversed course. A livid Sarah met her at the bottom step, a sad-faced Harold bringing up the rear. "Mom, look, if this is about what happened yesterday--"

"I don't want to hear it," Sarah declared. "Absolutely nothing you can say can excuse this. Never mind the fact that you trespassed on private property, you could've gotten yourself and your friend killed! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Mom, I--"

"I'll answer that for you. You simply weren't thinking!"

Jenny frowned and glanced at her father, who often jumped in at times like this to calm her mother down. Instead, he gave her an uncertain look and folded his arms. Jenny looked back to her mother. "I resent that."

The front door opened, and Laura walked in.

Sarah stared. "You what?"

"I resent being told I wasn't thinking," Jenny snapped. "I was thinking. I thought it would be okay. Maybe I was wrong."

Laura clutched the strap of her satchel more tightly.

Sarah gaped. "Maybe you were wrong?? How about completely flat-out insanely wrong!"

"Stop making it sound like I had a death wish or something," Jenny said. "I honestly didn't think he would ever hurt us. He could've shot us, but he didn't."

"That's not the damn point," Sarah said. "You shouldn't have been there in the first place!"

Laura cleared her throat. "I'll, uh, just go to my room now."

"Laura, wait," said Sarah. "Stay here, I'll want to talk to you after this."

Harold raised an eyebrow.

"Um, okay," said Laura warily.

"I won't do this again," said Jenny in a more contrite voice.

"I wish I could believe you," said Sarah. "Go to your room."

Jenny blinked. "Huh?"

"Do as I say."

"Well, okay ... but ... you're not going to ground me or something?"

"No."

"No?" Harold said. "But I thought that's what--"

Sarah held up a hand to silence him. "Jenny, go. You'll learn soon enough what I have in mind."

Jenny gave her a wary look, then glanced at Laura before heading upstairs.

Harold frowned and stepped forward. "Sarah, what's this about?"

"You'll find out right now." Sarah turned to Laura. "Laura, I have a favor to ask of you."

Laura tensed and nodded.

"I want you to supervise your sister."

Laura flinched, her eyes wide. "You what?"

"Whenever she's outside and not in school, I want you to be with her at all times. If she wants to do something before coming home, she's allowed to, but you accompany her and don't let her do anything that's obviously unsafe."

Memories that Laura wished would remain buried swirled in her mind. "I-I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Mom."

Sarah placed her hands on Laura's shoulders. "Hopefully this won't be for long, just until Jenny learns from this. Maybe when she sees how responsible you are, she'll understand."

Laura's heart raced. "Are you sure you want to trust me with this?"

Sarah smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Just ... the last time ... um ..."

"What?"

Laura shook her head. "Nothing, never mind. I'll do it."

"Thank you."

Laura simply hoped that neither of them would regret it when it was over.

> Chapter 6 - Progress
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starlight set down her coffee as slow hoofsteps approached the dining room. She raised an eyebrow as Twilight entered the room, the alicorn's fur and feathers in disarray. "No offense, Twilight, but you look awful."

"I had a nightmare and had trouble falling back to sleep after that," said Twilight as she took a seat at the table.

"Didn't Princess Luna help you with it?"

"She did. That's why I had trouble afterward. She gave me too many things to think about."

Spike emerged from the kitchen, an apron around his waist. "Your usual tea, Twilight?"

Twilight shook her head. "No, I'll have some coffee, please. Black."

"Wow, you really must've had a rough night," said Spike. "One black coffee coming up."

"What happened?" Starlight asked as Spike headed back into the kitchen.

Twilight explained her dream. Starlight did her best not to giggle when she learned it was over that A-minus. "But it made me realize that we could indeed have seen different writing in that document in the Archives because it happened before," Twilight concluded.

"That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it?" said Starlight. "I know you're upset over that grade, but don't you think this--"

Twilight banged a fore-hoof on the table. "I know what I read! I know I got every reference right. The only way this could've happened is if the text changed between when I read it and my teacher read it. It wasn't even a huge change. It was a very minor fact that wasn't even a deciding factor on the historical event that was the subject of the paper."

"Well, okay, but you said Princess Luna told you something that upset you?"

Twilight told her about the private journal.

Starlight smiled. "There you go, problem solved! Once we have that, we--"

"Didn't you hear a word I said?" Twilight cried. "I can't pry into Celestia's private life without a good reason."

"And protecting Canterlot from something potentially dangerous isn't enough?"

"It's not harming anything or anypony at the moment, and I have Rainbow Dash on her way to the Griffon Kingdom."

Spike emerged from the kitchen with a tray. Twilight smiled and plucked the steaming mug of coffee from it with her magic. "Thank you, Spike."

Starlight rested her head on a fore-hoof and smirked. "Come on, Twilight, admit it. You're burning with curiosity about Celestia's private life."

"I am not, and neither should you."

Starlight spread her fore-hooves. "All I want to know is if the rumors about Princess Celestia being a cake-a-holic are true."

Twilight face-hoofed. "You're impossible."

"Hey, I wish I could pack away the treats like she does and not have it go right to my flanks. I guess immortality has its fringe-benefits."

The castle suddenly shook from the force of a dragonling belch in the kitchen, which lighted the room bright green for a moment. Spike coughed a few times before emerging holding a thick book with a golden cover, the image of Celestia's cutie mark embossed upon it. "This arrived for you, Twilight," Spike said in a raspy voice, still coughing up green-tinged smoke.

"Oo, shiny!" Starlight said, snatching it from Spike in her magic.

"Wait, Starlight, stop!" said Twilight.

Starlight rolled her eyes as she levitated the book over the table. "Will you relax? See, I'm not opening the book. I'm ... um ..." She trailed off and frowned.

Twilight took it in her own magic and tugged it from Starlight's grip. "This needs to be handled with the utmost respect and care."

"Well, yes, but--"

"No buts." Twilight very gently set the book down in the center of the table. "For now, this remains our last resort. I want to hear what Rainbow Dash was able to find out."

Starlight stared at the book and lighted her horn. "You may want to reconsider that."

"What are you doing?" Twilight demanded. "Do I need to shield this book from you? Stop acting like a little filly and--"

"There's mind-magic in this book."

Twilight's mouth fell open. "Wh-what?"

Spike hopped into a chair. "Are you serious, Starlight?"

"I'm dead serious," said Starlight. "It's faint, but it's definitely there, likely imbued into the pages."

"But how can you even detect that?" Twilight said.

The glow around Starlight's horn faded. "While it may be a dubious distinction, I don't think there's another unicorn in Equestria with the same knowledge of mind control magic as me. You know that stew of spells I used on the others recently? I'm detecting a similar resonance, just far more subtle."

Spike turned to Twilight. "Could that be what Princess Luna was worried about? She said her sister was acting weird. What if her own journals are doing it?"

"Oh, heavens," Twilight cried. "That could be why she's acting like this. If she's fallen under the sway of some evil spell that--"

"Whoa, wait," said Starlight, waving a hoof. "I didn't necessarily mean it that way."

"But what else could it possibly be?"

Starlight smiled. "Well, now, the only way to find out is to actually read the book."

Her horn glowed, and the front cover started to open. Twilight frowned, and a quick burst of her own magic slammed it shut.

Starlight sighed. "Twilight, really--"

"Unless you can prove to me that this thing is an immediate danger to us--"

"No, it's not," Starlight said reluctantly. "It's not radiating mind-magic. Whatever the effect is, it's more subtle than that."

"Then we can wait."

Starlight leaned her head on a hoof again. "Fine, whatever."





A smirk spread across Rainbow Dash's muzzle as she rocketed upward, her wings a blur as she shot high into the skies above the Griffon Kingdom. She risked a glance behind her, and her eyes widened when she saw the sly smile of Gilda as the griffon seemed to be catching up almost too easily.

Rainbow suddenly executed a snap-turn, the force of which scorched the air in her wake. "Think fast!" she bellowed as she barreled straight for her friend.

"Gaah!" Gilda cried before doing a quick barrel roll to get out of the way.

Rainbow giggled as she left a corkscrew rainbow trail in her wake.

"Oh, you little stinker!" Gilda cried before diving after her friend.

Rainbow grinned. She started a tight curve around the spire of a recently restored castle and glanced behind her. "Er, huh? Where'd she--"

"SURPRISE!"

"WHOA!"

Gilda had zipped around the same spire the other way. Rainbow did a sharp ninety-degree turn and felt the tip of her tail brush Gilda's flank.

Gilda flew on for a few seconds before stopping and hovering. She turned towards Rainbow and laughed. "You always did fall for that trick!"

Rainbow hovered and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you got me there. Wanna call it a draw this time?"

"Fine by me. You're a much better sport about this sort of thing than you used to be."

Rainbow flew at a more sedate pace towards her friend. "Yeah, well, let's just say being in the Wonderbolts has taught me a few things."

Gilda lightly punched Rainbow in the shoulder. "Yeah, congrats and all that."

Rainbow smiled and rubbed her shoulder. Even a light tap by a full-grown griffon was enough to leave a bruise. She looked towards the ground. The place seemed completely transformed. Where rundown streets and ramshackle houses had been before now stood wide avenues and neat, spacious homes built specifically for a proud species of avians. "I'm not the only one who deserves congrats. Wow, you guys have done a lot with the place since Pinkie and I were here last."

Gilda puffed out her chest a bit and smiled. "Thanks. It's a lot of hard work, but that's what griffons used to be about. We're sorta rediscovering our past, you know?"

"Speaking of which, that's kinda why I'm here."

"Aw, and here I thought it was just to visit an old friend. Guess when you become famous, you forget the little people."

Rainbow snorted and bopped her fore-hoof against Gilda's shoulder. "Oh, stop it, you big goof. But, yeah, I should visit more often."

Gilda chuckled and waved a claw. "It's okay. Let's head back down to the ground and we can talk."

"Race ya!" Rainbow cried before speeding off.

"Saw that coming," Gilda said with a smirk as she took off.

After landing at the same time and engaging in a brief debate over who won, Gilda said, "So lay it on me. What's up?"

Rainbow considered pulling out the scroll that Twilight had given her, but she didn't want to put her friend to sleep. "Twilight wanted to know if you knew anything about some sorta incident that happened between griffons and ponies twenty years ago."

Gilda snorted. "Who me? I was only a chick at the time."

"Yeah, but what about your parents? You ever hear stories from them?"

"Like what kind?"

"About maybe some sort of war brewing?"

Gilda's face slowly turned thoughtful. "Well, not sure how useful this'll be, but my father started to rant about ponies getting too big for their britches or some nonsense like that."

Rainbow gave her a surprised look. "Really? Why?"

"I think Equestria had an embassy here back then. At least they had some sorta envoy, not that you can find a single griffon who remembers their name. But war?" She laughed. "You gotta be kidding me. We were starting on the skids back then. How could we have made war on Equestria? Celestia would've rolled over us by herself."

"But that's really weird," said Rainbow. "Twilight was sure Princess Celestia was worried about war breaking out. The egghead is almost never wrong about stuff like that."

Gilda shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you. Maybe there coulda been some griffon hotheads at the time. We do have a warrior culture, and despite the big downturn we took, there were always those among us who wouldn't let us forget that."

"You don't have any sort of records or--"

Gilda laughed harder. "You really are a card today, aren't you? You saw the place when you and Pinkie showed up. You think we'd care about something like maintaining records?"

"Yeah, good point," said Rainbow. "I just didn't want to go back empty-hooved to Twilight. She's counting on me to figure this out."

"Yeah, about that," said Gilda. "What's the deal? Something must be up."

"It is, but I'm not sure how much I can tell you."

Gilda smirked. "Now you really got me interested. Okay, fair enough. But if you do have something, let me know. I want to help if I can. Least I can do to repay you guys for your help."

"You got it, Gilda."





Rainbow was eager enough to tell Twilight what she had learned that she took a more direct route home aided by a well-placed sonic rainboom. Thus she got into Ponyville by late afternoon.

Twilight paced slowly as she listened. "So that's all you were able to find out?"

"Yeah, I wish I had more for you," said Rainbow.

"And you're sure of the accuracy of this information?"

"Well, as accurate as Gilda's memory is, and she's pretty sharp."

Twilight stopped and sighed. "Well, thank you, it was worth a shot."

"We did learn one thing," said Starlight as she stepped forward. "We learned that this whole griffon war may be a red herring."

"I don't think so," said Twilight. "Maybe it didn't happen as Cadance remembers it, but something did happen, and I feel it's still connected to all this."

"In either case, you got what you wanted," said Starlight. "Now can we read the book?"

Rainbow tilted her head. "What book?"

Twilight waved a hoof. "It doesn't matter, it--"

Starlight grinned. "Princess Celestia's secret diary."

Rainbow gasped. "No way!"

Twilight whirled around. "Starlight!"

"That is so cool!" said Rainbow.

Twilight face-hoofed. "No, it isn't."

"Hey, can you let me know if you find out if she's as much of a cake-a-holic as ponies say she is?"

"She's not a cake-a-holic!" Twilight yelled. "She eats no more or less cake than the next pony! I should know, I was her student! Satisfied?!"

"Um, okay," said Rainbow. "Jeez, Twi, calm down."

Starlight smirked. "Yeah, have a piece of cake, Twilight."

Rainbow giggled.

Twilight frowned and marched up to Starlight. "Now listen to me. We are going to read that book, but we are going to do this in an orderly -- and most of all, respectful -- manner. No jokes, no fooling around. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal," said Starlight.

"All right. I moved the book to the library. Let's go."

They headed off, and Rainbow grinned and hovered behind them, only to have the library doors slammed in her face. "Hey!" she called out to no avail.

Inside, Twilight turned her head towards the door long enough to cast a silence shield on it. "I've swept the room with a powerful detection spell earlier."

Starlight stepped up to the table, her eyes on the book. "To detect what?"

"Any sort of magic that might serve as surveillance."

"Ah, right, yeah," said Starlight with a roll of her eyes. "While you're at it, check for invisible changeling ninjas and parasprite commandos."

Twilight frowned. "What did I say about no jokes?"

"Don't you think you're being just a weensy bit paranoid?"

"I don't want to take any chances," said Twilight. "There could be very sensitive material in this journal, especially if it does contain the truth about what really happened during that period of time. Now, you said there was mind-magic in it?"

"Yes. I can still detect it."

"Do we need to shield ourselves somehow?" said Twilight. "Is there some sort of enchantment on it that will attempt to control our minds?"

"It's not like that," said Starlight. "While the basis of the magic is similar to my spells, it's not designed for direct control."

Twilight stepped alongside Starlight and took a deep breath as she reached out with her magic and took hold of the front cover. "All right. Here goes ..."





Twilight soon realized that some of her fears about the book were justified. Celestia had not told a dry tale of her day to day actions. She spoke from the heart in much of what she wrote, injecting the prose with her fears, her insecurities, and her doubts. At odd moments, worry over what would happen when Luna returned consumed her.

Twilight finally had to turn away from the book, uttering a shaky sigh as her eyes threatened to well up. She knew logically that Celestia was not some infallible goddess, but it soon became clear that her heart believed otherwise, and it took only the first few entries to utterly shatter the illusion.

Starlight stepped up to her and draped a fore-leg around Twilight's barrel. "I'm sorry."

Twilight shook her head. "I know it's stupid. Celestia never claimed to have all the answers. There isn't even anything terrible happening. Just day to day worries about her ponies."

"Yeah, but she has a lot of them to worry about," said Starlight softly. "And I have to admit, it's the mundaneness that has me a little suspicious."

"What do you mean?"

Starlight turned back towards the book. "Well, like you said, there's nothing really special happening. I know we're only a little ways in, but I would have expected this period to be a little more, I don't know, dramatic."

"What about the mind magic?" said Twilight. "Is that in play here?"

Starlight's horn glowed. "It's here. It's woven into the pages in a rather complicated fashion. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Could it be masking something in the text?" Twilight said. "Like the way that name changed the other day, or the reference in my report?"

Starlight frowned. "But why would it result in seeing something different? I'm not getting the connection yet. We need to read on and perhaps find a pattern."

Twilight sighed. "I was afraid you would say that. All right, let's continue ..."





A gentle knock sounded at the door.

Twilight looked up from her reading. She glanced at the window and saw it was nighttime. "How long have we been at this?"

Starlight nursed a headache with her hoof. "Too long."

"Twilight?" came Spike's voice.

Twilight nudged open the door enough for him to enter. "Sorry, Spike, we lost track of time."

"I was wondering if you wanted any dinner."

"Yes, please. Could you bring it to us?"

Starlight sighed. "Can't we go to the dining hall? I really could use a break."

"I know, but I think I found something." She turned back to Spike. "Dinner for two, please."

"Coming right up!" said Spike before he dashed away.

"So what did you find?" Starlight asked.

Twilight nudged the door shut. "Something is not adding up about her style of prose."

"Come again?"

"Everypony who's a writer develops a distinct style," said Twilight. "Everything from word choice, to sentence structure, to length of time spent on a given subject, and it's that last one that is wildly fluctuating."

Starlight stepped up to the book. "Show me."

Twilight flipped through the book. "Here. She spent two pages on a crisis that made her concerned Discord was about to slip free of his prison. But right before this--" She flipped the pages. "--she spent six pages on a very mundane, and frankly very boring and repetitive discussion of court politics."

Starlight examined the pages. Her horn glowed. She flipped the pages back and forth between the two entries. "In this longer section, the mind magic is stronger."

Twilight's pupils shrank slightly. "Really? What does it mean?"

Starlight looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure yet, other than I'm becoming increasingly convinced we can't trust what we're reading."

Twilight gasped. "Are you saying the text has been altered?"

"Not quite." Starlight sighed. "I know, this is frustrating for you, but I'm not sure how to describe what I'm seeing."

"If there is a spell here, can't you break it?"

Starlight turned to her teacher. "How much experience do you have with mind control spells, Twilight?"

Twilight blushed slightly. "Other than the, uh, incident with the want-it-need-it spell? Not much. I got soured on the subject after that. Sombra's dark magic was more corruption than control."

"Mind control spells of this complexity can't be broken unless I can see the entire structure," said Starlight. "If I just lash out at the spell, I could accidentally incinerate the book."

"So what do we do?"

Starlight smiled. "We have to be smarter than the spell. We have to trick it into revealing itself, and I have an idea how." Starlight turned away. "Twilight, go read the next four entries. Memorize their length and where they start and end. Let me know when you're done."

While Twilight read, Spike arrived with dinner. Starlight took the tray and set it on a nearby table. She started to munch on some celery as she waited.

Twilight finally lifted her head and turned around. "There, done."

Starlight stepped up to the book. "What page did you end at?"

"End at?" said Twilight. "One forty seven."

Starlight finished her celery and flipped the book to that page. "Go eat something while I read those same entries."

Twilight nodded and headed away.

Starlight started reading the entries in reverse, all the while her magical senses tracing the intricate weave of the mind magic. To say she was impressed with this level of mastery was an understatement. Back in her "evil" days, she would have killed for this level of skill. She lifted her head. "All right, done. Here's what I just read."

Twilight started munching on some broccoli.

Starlight paused to switch the order back to first-to-last in her head. "Three pages on a trade treaty with the minotaurs. Two pages on receiving a Zebrican representative--"

Twilight blinked and stopped munching.

"--five pages on reviewing new curricula at the School for Advanced Unicorn Magic. Four pages on reviewing new economics legislation."

"That's not right!" Twilight said.

Starlight started to smile. "Oh?"

"You got two reversed. It was five pages on the Zebrican and two pages on the curricula."

Starlight flipped to the overlapping region. Words crawled about on the pages like confused ants, and the threads of the spell stood out in sharp relief. Her lips curled into a sly smile as her horn blazed. "Gotcha."

Twilight nearly choked on her food. "Wait! What are you--!"

Starlight let loose with her spell, and the pages of the book glowed blinding white. In a panic, Twilight galloped over to her, but by then the spell was done, and the glow had subsided. Twilight's mouth fell open, and her pupils shrank to near pinpricks as her horrified eyes fell on utterly blank pages. "Wh-what did you do to the book?!"

"Revealed the lie," Starlight said. She flipped the book first forward and then back. Now there were two pages apiece on the Zebrican and the curricula, and in between were three blank pages.

Twilight yanked the book into her grip and quickly re-read the Zebrican section. "This is not what I read!" Twilight cried. "I mean, yes, the gist of it is there, but the version I read had much more detail, but ... most it was ..." She trailed off.

"Rather pointless and unnecessary?" said Starlight. "Minor facts that were not really important to the subject at hoof? Just like the reference that got you that A-minus?"

Twilight set the book down. "Explain to me what just happened, please."

"Simple," said Starlight. "You know how the mind can sort of fill in the blanks? Like the old trick of removing all the vowels of a sentence but you can still read it?"

"Yes, I'm familiar with that."

"This is the same principle. Somepony excised information from this journal, then used a mind magic spell to fool our brains into filling in the blanks. It takes the form of causing your head to extend the previous entry. Since it relies on your own mind, everypony reads something slightly different, but because the additional information is so trivial, nopony really notices or cares about the discrepancy." She grinned. "Except young egghead unicorns like you. I have to admit, I'll really impressed with this."

Twilight flipped through the book. More blank pages appeared. "I don't believe this," she murmured.

"I had to confuse the spell," said Starlight with a hint of pride in her voice. "I read the pages backwards, so the spell back-filled instead of forward-filled. When you corrected me, it briefly short-circuited the spell. It was struggling to compensate when I zapped it."

Twilight's eyes widened. "And if this spell was on the residency manifest in the archives--"

"--then I suspect Mr. Night Moonshine is the next-to-last resident of that building," said Starlight.

"And that explains why I didn't detect it!" Twilight said. "I was looking for alteration magic, not mind magic!"

"But I didn't excise all the magic in this book," said Starlight. "When I stripped away the mind magic, I found something else underneath it. It's not something I've ever seen before."

Twilight looked down, and her horn glowed. "I have," she said in a low voice. "It's dark magic."

Starlight recoiled. "What?? H-how would you know?"

"Because I know how to do some dark magic."

Starlight gaped. "You do?!"

Twilight turned towards her. "Celestia taught me some. I needed it to deal with Sombra and the Crystal Empire."

"Whoa, wait!" said Starlight in a quavering voice. "You're telling me that Princess Celestia knows dark magic?"

Twilight sighed. "I know where you're going with this."

"It only proves what I've been saying all along. She's behind this big cover-up. Who knows how many documents this has been done to!"

"But if there is this big cover-up, why even bother to restrict access to the Archives to everypony?"

Starlight shook her head. "No, Twilight, Princess Celestia was not trying to restrict access to everypony, because everypony can't detect or undo the magic. You can. She was trying to keep you away from it because she knew you could find a way around it."

"But I saw this dark magic only after you stripped away the mind magic!"

Starlight fell into a decent imitation of Celestia's voice. "Oh, Starlight! Go back to your friendship lessons, Starlight! Don't worry your little unicorn head about this pesky magic stuff!"

Twilight frowned. "You've made your point."

"My question is, why even use dark magic if all you want to do is erase some text?" said Starlight. "Doesn't that seem like overkill to you?"

Twilight considered. "I have an idea, but ..." She took a deep breath. "Whatever was removed, whatever was covered up, other ponies would have remembered it regardless of whether anypony had written it down. Unless ... you extended the effect to them as well."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You don't mean that not only were written records erased, but ponies' minds as well?!"

"Yes."

"But you could accomplish the same thing without dark magic," Starlight declared. "You just need a more powerful mind magic spell."

"That's the thing about dark magic, Starlight," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "It's terrible, yes, but it's also expedient. Whoever did this -- and yes, I'm still holding out hope it wasn't Celestia -- they specifically harnessed dark magic to corrupt the information rather than excise it. It would be easier, and most of all, it would allow it to be retrieved later."

Starlight frowned. "Likely after everypony who could've remembered is conveniently dead from old age. Like I said, immortality has its perks."

Twilight turned away. "Let's have some dinner. I'm really famished now."

"So am I," said Starlight as she followed. "But then what?"

"Then I'm going to make an attempt to strip the dark magic from the book in hopes that it will reveal the missing information."





Starlight glanced towards the moon glowing in one of the widows. "Twilight, it's late, maybe you should hold off until tomorrow."

"I don't expect complete success," said Twilight as she stepped up to the book. "It could take days to properly reverse the spell, but if I can loosen it enough, I can get a clue as to what's been hidden from us."

"I have to admit, this is a bit chilling," said Starlight as she followed. "Not just that dark magic has been used to erase history, but that you're going to use the very same thing against it."

"I don't like it either," said Twilight in a solemn voice. "Dark magic ... calls to you. It tempts you. It wants to consume you. That's how Sombra became both so powerful and so utterly evil."

Starlight shivered. She didn't want to think about what would have happened had she gained access to it before she had reformed.

Twilight looked down at the book and lifted a hoof towards Starlight. "A little room, please, and be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Starlight stepped back. Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Starlight swallowed as her fur seemed to stand on end, as if the room had become electrified. She shivered as an icy wind blew around her and ruffled Twilight's mane. The wind rose to a howl, and Twilight's eyes snapped open.

Starlight stumbled back a step. Twilight's eyes glowed bright green.

A black ichor bubbled from Twilight's horn, and a beam of inky darkness blasted from it and onto the book, enveloping it in the same slimy substance that coated Twilight's horn. Starlight's heart hammered. She didn't know whether to be impressed or terrified.

Then the lights started to dim. She chose terrified.





"Hello, Twilight, it's so good to see you again."

Despite steeling herself for it, the dulcet tones still sent a shiver through her. The words came from everywhere and nowhere, trying to worm their way into her subconscious. This time the "voice" had been that of her sweet mother, and just as warm and inviting as the real thing.

Twilight floated in a void, and she fought the urge to extend her wings. No flight here, only existence and power.

"Yes, you want that power, don't you, Twilight? Please, take it."

Twilight extended her magical touch into the pool of dark magic, manifesting as a vast lake of ichor. She shivered as it made contact with her psyche, yet it was anything but cold. It filled her with a comfortable warmth, wrapped around her like a soft blanket.

"That's it, Twilight. Never feel cold again. Never feel powerless again."

Twilight took a deep breath. Yes, she knew she would never feel cold again. That was the problem. She would never again understand -- or care -- how her actions could be seen as cold to others. The concept would become completely foreign to her. Twilight thus took only what she needed.

"Aw, come on, Twily!" came her brother's voice. "You can take more than that! You can handle it!"

Twilight turned her back on the voice, at least in a metaphysical sense. Up, down, left, right had no meaning here. She willed a hole to open in the dark magic realm, and it obeyed. The book appeared before her, its dark magic spell like a writhing serpent coiled amongst the pages of the book. Twilight concentrated, then sent her magic into the book.

The serpent shuddered and fought, and Twilight trembled with the effort. She had not taken anywhere near the amount of magic she needed to accomplish this task.

"Twilight, you don't give yourself enough credit," came the concerned voice of Cadance. "You can do this. You can take all the power you want."

"For that's what you want, isn't it, my former student?" said Celestia's voice. "To fix everything in one fell magical swoop."

Twilight paused to steady herself. She did need more power, but it would be on her terms. She opened herself as a conduit rather than a capacitor, sending the power out of her as fast as it came in.

To her relief, the voices fell to mutterings, allowing her to better focus on the task at hoof. She sent more power into the book, against the serpent, and still it fought. She opened her magical senses and gasped when she saw the entirety of this metaphorical creature. She saw its coils extending into books, scrolls, notes, MINDS ...

Twilight gasped. The true scope of this was monstrous.

"And yet you could do it, Twilight," said the voice of Luna. "You could break it here and now."

That would mean taking in a vast amount of dark magic and mixing it with her own, which she refused to do. But there was something that she could do.

The dark magic spell was powerful, but not perfect. It was so vast that it had weaknesses that could be exploited. Even this simple rattling of the serpent's cage was enough for her to see glimpses of the missing history, yet all she was getting were distantly related pieces she could not put together into a cohesive whole.

She readied an indexing spell.

She admitted to feeling a certain sense of irony that a spell she had perfected to better organize her library would be used in such a context. Dark magic frothed and boiled as she waited for the right moment. When she spotted an opening, she let loose the spell. The effect was almost instantaneous, and a name struck her with such force that she went tumbling head over hooves through the void ...





"Twilight!" Starlight cried when the alicorn slumped to the floor.

The darkness, the cold, and the ichor had evaporated the instant Twilight broke contact with the book. Starlight galloped around the side of the table, but Twilight was already stirring. "I-I'm all right," she said in a weak voice.

"You don't look all right."

Twilight slowly pushed herself to her hooves. "That's the most dark magic I ever channeled in one go."

"Um, just promise me you're not going to go all Nightmare Twilight on me or something," Starlight said warily.

Twilight chuckled weakly. "I'm not, don't worry."

Starlight looked at the book. "I'm sorry, but it didn't work, the pages are still blank."

"I know," said Twilight as she stepped up to it. "I was right, this spell is too powerful to unravel in one go, and it is affecting ponies' minds. But I was able to gain a glimpse at a critical part of the missing information."

"What did you see?"

"A name," said Twilight. "It's not one I recognize, but it's the key to the whole thing."

"What name is that?" Starlight asked.

"Sunset Shimmer."
> Chapter 7 - Family Crisis
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura races down the stairs even as they sway under her feet, threatening to pitch her to the bottom in one deadly go. The clock strikes three, but the house is nearly as dark as night, save for when the occasional blinding flash illuminates the windows and rocks the house with another thunderous boom.

"Mom! Dad!" Laura cries as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. "Where are you?!"

The winds rise in an unearthly howl, and the windows rattle. She clamps her hands over her ears when another flash is quickly followed by a deafening crack.

Laura whips her head around. "Don't leave me alone here again! Don't--!"

She screams as a window in the living room shatters. Wind and rain whip through the house. Beyond the broken window, the black clouds are tinged green, and the tempest shrieks as the wind rises further.

"JENNY!" Laura bellows. She turns and races back up the stairs. "Jenny, where are you?!" She ducks in and out of rooms, the normally four-bedroom house having multiplied such that there is no end to where she must search, the corridor twisting and turning until she is sure she is searching the same room over and over again.

Laura shrieks when ice bangs against the windows, each hit as loud as a gunshot. More glass shatters in the distance. She turns and glimpses a flicker of long blond hair as it disappears around a corner.

"Jenny, wait, come back!" Laura yells as she pounds down the hallway. "I have to get you to somewhere safe!"

"I don't want your help!" Jenny shouts from another direction.

Laura skids to a halt and whirls around. Jenny disappears into a bedroom and slams the door shut behind her. Laura dashes to the door and wrestles with the knob before flinging it open.

For a moment, she is too stunned to move or speak. Jenny is lying on her bed, calmly reading a fantasy novel. Rain, hail, and wind roar through a broken window, soaking her and her book, wind tearing at her hair, but Jenny appears oblivious.

"Jenny, what are you doing?!" says Laura. "We need to get to safety!"

Jenny looks to her sister and laughs. "Why? Anywhere is just as good as this."

"But I know what to do! We need to get to the basement!"

"Fuck off, Laura, can't you see I'm busy?"

Laura tries to run to her sister, but the wind rises and pushes her back. Suddenly the half of the room containing Jenny rips free and flies off into the stormy skies. "Some sister you turned out to be!" Jenny yells as she vanishes into the distance ...





Laura's eyes flew open, and her body jerked as she awoke with a start Wednesday morning. She turned over on her back, wincing slightly. After nearly a full minute, she finally realized her alarm was going off. She groaned and banged her hand on it to silence it.

She rolled onto her side and reached behind her to rub at a spot just below the small of her back through her nightgown. It took her another moment to wake up enough to realize her tail bone ached. The only time in her life she ever had pain there was when she slipped on the ice and fell on it when she was little. She had not realized she even had a part of her spine down there until that accident.

Laura swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her eyes. At least the itchiness she had felt there right before she went to bed the night before had subsided. She stepped over to the door to her room and opened it in time to see Jenny come sailing past in her bathrobe.

Laura leaned out into the hallway. "What's got you up so ..." She trailed off as she spotted the wide streak of pink down the back of Jenny's head.

Jenny whirled around. "I wanted to make sure I got a decent shower before you broke the heater again with your silly hair."

Laura stepped up to her. "Look who's talking," Laura said as she reached for Jenny's hair.

Jenny slapped her sister's hand away. "Yeah, fine, it's turning anime pink. At least it's not getting all curly like yours."

Laura sighed. "Is it too much to ask that you not be hostile towards me today?"

"If I'm going to be stuck having you shadow me all freaking day, you get me as I am. Deal with it."

"I didn't ask for this, Jenny," Laura said in a lower voice.

"I didn't hear you tell Mom no."

"How could I?"

"Like this: no. See? I say it all the time. It's real easy. But, no, you have to be miss goodie two-shoes."

Laura frowned. "That's not what this is about."

"Right. Tell me another one. Look, I want to get dressed, it's freezing out here, and--" Jenny suddenly fell silent and stared.

"What are you looking at?"

"Your eyes," said Jenny, bemused. "They're green!"

"No, they're not!" Laura retorted. "I mean, they can't ... I ... shit ..."

Laura spun around and bolted for the bathroom. Her mouth fell open as she stared at her face. Where blue-gray eyes had been before, she now sported bright emerald green.

"Jesus ... what else is going to happen to me?" she murmured.





Sarah glanced across the table at Bob and finished chewing on some egg before saying to Harold, "Do you really think he's ready to go back to school?"

Harold smiled as he gazed at Bob. "I'd say that's up to him."

Bob raised his eyes from the science magazine lying open next to his plate. He had dressed himself in the faded jeans and buttoned shirt that he typically wore to class. "Yeah, I think I'm ready. I feel a lot better. I really don't want to miss any more school."

"Besides, he's far from being contagious anymore," said Harold.

"Not that it matters, considering how many people got it already," Sarah said.

Bob turned towards her. "Don't you think that's a little strange?"

Sarah paused and glanced at Harold, her eyes lingering for a moment on blue hair that now covered the back of his head. She idly played with a bang of her own red hair, only a fringe above her forehead retaining its former hue. Streaks of pale salmon pink had appeared along the sides of her head. She had not yet arranged it into her usual ponytail, thus its increased length from the day before was quite noticeable. "What do you mean?" said Sarah.

"It went through town really fast," said Bob. "Influenza is not normally that virulent."

"This is a small town, honey," said Sarah. "Closer quarters, easier to transmit."

"Then there's your hair," said Bob. "And Dad's. And--"

"What about it?" Sarah said a bit forcefully as she pulled her hand away from her hair.

"Hadn't you noticed that you all got this weird hair thing in the same order you came down with the flu?"

Sarah hesitated. "No, I hadn't."

"I had," Harold murmured.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Oh, now, that's ... that's silly. Flu doesn't change hair color. If that was the case, Doctor Conner would've told us."

Bob caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and stared as Laura stepped into the dining room.

Sarah glanced at Laura and stood up. "How many sausages do you want with your ..." She trailed off. "Laura, what--??"

"It doesn't change eye color, either," Bob murmured.

Harold just stared.

"Um, hi," said Laura as she took a seat. "Yes, I know. Green eyes."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Laura, did ... has anything else ...?"

"I checked myself over just before getting in the shower," said Laura in a subdued voice. "Nothing else changed. My tail bone aches, but it's not bad. And just one sausage, please."

Sarah nodded slowly before heading into the kitchen.

Laura glanced at Bob. "Could you not stare at me?"

"Oh, sorry," Bob said, turning his eyes back to his plate. "If it helps any, it's a nice shade of green."

One corner of Laura's mouth rose. "Thanks. I'm trying not to freak out about it. I mean, it's only eye color, right?"

"Your vision isn't impaired?" Harold asked.

Laura shook her head. "I didn't know it had changed color until Jenny noticed."

Sarah reentered the room carrying a plate with sausage and eggs. "Speaking of whom, where is she?"

"I guess she's up in her room," said Laura as Sarah put the plate before her. "She was up before me, so I don't know what she's doing."

Sarah sighed. "I do." She turned her head towards the stairs. "Jenny, stop Skyping with your Aunt Eileen and get down here right now!"

Bob glanced towards the stairs. When he turned his gaze forward again, it met that of Harold's. He quickly dropped his eyes back to his magazine. Harold gave him a troubled look.

"Gimme another five minutes and then I'll be done!" Jenny shouted back.

Sarah approached the stairs. "You're done right now, young lady!"

A few seconds later, Jenny came flying down the stairs, her blond-and-pink hair trailing behind her like a banner. "I wish you'd cut me some slack."

"Jenny, you've used up about a lifetime's worth of 'slack'," Sarah snapped.

"Then give my aunt a break. She's coming down with the same miserable flu we all had."

Bob turned his head. "She is?"

Jenny scooted around her mother and flounced into a chair. "Yeah. Coughing like crazy, chills, fever, the works. Must've gotten it from you."

"But I shouldn't still have been contagious. Besides that, the symptoms shouldn't have manifested that quickly." He turned back to Sarah. "This is just getting weirder by the minute."

"All this speculating is getting us nowhere," Sarah declared as she headed towards the kitchen. "The test results for Laura's hair should come back soon, and then we'll know exactly what this is. Now, Jenny, how many--"

"Three," said Jenny.

"You get two. Three is too much."

"Then why even ask me?" Jenny muttered.

Laura took a bite of her sausage and frowned. She chewed very slowly.

Jenny glanced at her. "Is the Royal Breakfast not to the Fae Queen's liking?"

"This tastes weird," said Laura.

Jenny glanced down at her sister's plate. Laura had already cut the sausage into several pieces. Jenny deftly plucked a piece in her fingers and popped it into her mouth.

"Hey!" Laura cried.

"Tastes fine to me," said Jenny.

"Jenny, don't do that," Harold said. "Laura, what's up?"

Laura swallowed the first piece and speared a second with her fork. She gave it a sniff. "Something's off about it."

"What's the matter?" Sarah said as she returned with Jenny's plate.

"Her Royal Majesty is displeased with the breakfast fare," said Jenny.

Laura rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Mom, it's probably just me." She hesitated before eating the second piece with just a few cursory chews and turned to her eggs instead. She tentatively sampled a bite. To her relief, they tasted fine.

Sarah started to sit down when her cell phone chimed. She pulled it out and stood up straight. "I better take this, it's from Greg."

Jenny waited until her mother left the room before saying, "Now that the evil sorceress in the employ of the Fae Queen has been distracted--"

Harold groaned, "Jenny, don't call your mother that."

"--the poor peasant girl turns to the honorable knight who knows of her plight and how dreadfully unfair her punishment is and implores him to lift this horrible fae curse from her."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. This was not the first time Jenny had tried to get him to convince Sarah to rescind a punishment. Sarah handled discipline so rarely that it often worked.

Jenny's gaze flicked briefly to Laura. "Perhaps the brave knight would be willing to keep his watchful eye on the peasant girl himself and--"

"No," said Harold.

"But you're condemning the peasant girl to be the prisoner of the horrible Fae Queen and subject to her evil enchantments!"

"Then she'll just have to deal with her poor plight," said Harold. "Besides, evil enchantments build character."

Bob chuckled. Laura giggled softly.

Jenny frowned. "Fine. Let the Fae Queen be the downfall of us all."

"Wait, what?" said Laura. "Look, I've resigned myself to being in your stupid fantasy, but this is kinda pushing it."

"Well, you got this hair thing first, so maybe it's spreading like the flu did--"

Laura snarfed down a few more large bites of eggs and stood. "I'm getting ready for school before I say something I shouldn't."

Jenny watched her go before turning to her father. "Can I have her sausage?"





"What do you mean, they're gone?!" Sarah exploded into the phone in her office.

"In that they are no longer there," Greg deadpanned. "The rock face is blank."

"Petroglyphs do not just get up and walk away."

"Most likely explanation is that someone wiped them."

Sarah fell into her chair. "But wouldn't that leave behind some sort of mark? You said the rock face was blank."

"Yes, but it's uniformly dark, meaning someone etched away the rest of the surface rock. My guess would be some sort of acid."

Sarah banged her fist on the desk. "Dammit! When did they do it?"

"Probably during the accident. It was the only time no one could access the site."

"But you got clear pics of it after the accident."

"Yeah, but when I was setting up the shot, I thought the surrounding rock looked a bit darker than I had remembered it," said Greg. "I assumed it was just poor lighting. Must've been slow-acting acid or something similar."

Sarah lowered her head and ran her hand through her hair. "No one can tell me this is the work of some random vandal. Someone purposely destroyed this evidence."

"I gotta admit, this is creeping me out," said Greg. "I mean, this was organized."

Sarah leaned back in her seat and shielded her eyes with her hand. "Honestly, Greg, I don't know what to do. Who do I turn to for help?"

"We could hire a private investigator."

"I don't have that kind of money."

"I was thinking of hitting up some of your colleagues to chip in," said Greg.

Sarah frowned. "The same ones who laugh at my ideas?"

"Such blatant destruction of archaeological evidence is so loathsome that I'm hoping they'll rally to you." He paused. "There are also government agencies who specialize in dealing with this sort of vandalism."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Right. How many years will that take to trickle through the bureaucracy?"

"I know, I'm grasping at straws," said Greg. "But I want to help. I'm about as upset as you are, Sarah. If we had reported our findings and someone claimed you were wrong or that this was faked, that would be upsetting but an order of magnitude better than this."

"If anything, the fact that someone felt strongly enough that they had to get rid of it means I might be on to something," said Sarah. "So now it's imperative to find more evidence."

"There's something you need to consider," said Greg in a solemn voice. "Whoever did this acted fast. That could mean they're aware of our movements."

Sarah felt a chill down her spine. "You don't mean they're following us? Have us under surveillance?"

"I know that's not a nice thing to consider--"

"I'm not concerned so much about me as my family," Sarah said. "I don't want them to get hurt."

"Then you might have to consider backing off. Drop the pursuit of your theories for now."

Sarah grasped her hair and tugged in a gesture reminiscent of Laura. "I can't. This is becoming my life's work. At least ... at least let me think about this. You still have those pics, right?"

"Yes," said Greg. "Though of course people can claim it's Photoshopped."

"Still, keep them safe for now."

"I'll do the best I can. I better get going. Be safe, Sarah."

"You, too." Sarah hung up and uttered a quavering sigh. She took a deep breath and bolted to her feet. She started out of the room, only to be brought up short by Harold standing in the hall, his arms folded.

"All right, Sarah," he said. "You know I try not to listen in on your conversations, but when I hear things like surveillance and safety of our family--"

"No, it's fine." Sarah glanced past him. "Are the kids gone?"

"Yeah, they're all off to school. Now, what's up?"

Sarah summarized her phone call with Greg.

"Fuck," Harold muttered.

Sarah usually didn't like him using such language, but even she felt it justified. "Harry, things are going from strange to surreal. Maybe if it had been only this stupid hair thing or only the dig or only having to deal with Jenny's issues--"

"Yeah, I know," said Harold.

"And I've got this really bad feeling this is just the tip of the iceberg."





Kevin turned towards his patient one last time, a middle-aged man with azure hair. "And please don't hesitate to call me if any other symptoms show up."

"All right, doctor," he said in a subdued voice.

Kevin found Heather waiting for him in the hall. "Please tell me you've magically divined the cause of Lurid Hair Syndrome?" Kevin said hopefully.

Heather smiled. "Well, perhaps, but not from me. You've got a call on line two from Rod at the lab. It's about Laura Tanner's test results."

"I'll take it in my office." Kevin headed inside and dropped the folder he was carrying on his desk before picking up the phone. "Yes, Rod, what do you have for me?"

"Well, I'm about to fax the results over, but I wanted to talk to you about it first so I can ask you one thing," said Rod.

"And what's that?"

"Is this some sort of joke?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you sure you actually sent us what you think you did?" Rod asked. "A sample of human hair?"

"That's precisely what I sent you," Kevin said firmly. "I know the coloration is odd, but that's the very reason I sent it in for analysis."

"Well, we did analyze it," said Rod. "No trace of any chemicals or dyes. And no eumelanin or pheomelanin, either."

Kevin sat up straighter in his chair. "Come again?"

"There's not a trace of either biochemical responsible for human hair color. This thing shouldn't even have any color, let alone bright orange. The only explanation is that it's not even human hair."

"It most assuredly came from a human female," Kevin declared. "I don't play games like this with you guys."

"I know, but when stuff like this happens, I have to follow up on it," said Rod.

Kevin took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So the test result boils down to: orange, reason unknown."

"Pretty much, yes."

Kevin stroked his beard as he considered. "Then I guess you're going to have similar reports in the future, just different colors."

Rod paused. "You're kidding me, right?"

"So far I have encountered orange, purple, yellow, olive green, and azure," said Kevin. "You already have at least four more samples on the way."

"Are you dealing with some sort of weird new disease?"

"I don't know," said Kevin. "It's not following any known pattern."

"Think you should contact the Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin sighed. "And tell them what? That I've got cases of hair turning odd colors? They'd be as skeptical as you. Technically, all my patients with this are healthy, save for the usual post-flu effects."

"Well, all right, I'll try to convince the others here that you're not pranking us and we'll churn through those other tests."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Kevin hung up. He was about to stand up when he considered something he had just said. He glanced at the picture of Anna before putting on his reading glasses and examining his patient records for the last few days. He then thumbed the intercom. "Heather, could you step into my office, please?"

Heather arrived seconds later. "You find something?"

"Sort of," said Kevin. "Laura's test results were a bust, but the conversation I just had with the lab tech made me think of something. All of our patients with odd hair had the flu, didn't they?"

Heather smirked. "It's kinda hard to find someone who didn't have it."

"Yes, but hear me out. What if this is somehow related to the flu?"

Heather's eyebrows rose. "I'd rather it not be. I had the flu, remember?"

"How long ago did you get the first symptoms?"

Heather clutched the folders to her chest a little more tightly. "About two and a half weeks ago. It was about six days ago when I felt well enough to come back to work."

Kevin tilted his head. "And obviously your hair is not changing color."

"Yet," said Heather in a low voice. "At least according to you."

Kevin stood. "From now on, we ask every patient who comes through this office if they had the flu and when. Also, I'd like you to follow up with the patients we already had and get that information from them."

Heather gave him a skeptical look. "You don't seriously believe the flu did this?"

"Laura's test results showed no dyes whatsoever," said Kevin. "I don't think your theory about viral marketing is holding water. I'm back at square one, and that means I'll follow any lead, no matter how remote."

Heather sighed. "All right, but I have to give you a heads up. Janet Turner called."

"Fred Turner's daughter?"

"Yes. She said her father's been acting weird in his phone calls to her," said Heather. "Well, weirder than usual, I guess. She's on her way into town from Nebraska. She's going to try to convince him to come in for a checkup."

Kevin sighed. "Oh, fun."

"You remember the last time he was here," Heather said.

"Yes. He was convinced the vitamin shot I wanted to give him was a secret government serum intended to control his mind, and he barricaded himself inside the supply closet."

Heather nodded. "I'll make sure the police are on speed-dial."

"Yes, do that, please."





At the end of the school day, Bob slipped out of the building from a different entrance than the one Laura and Jenny tended to use and headed straight home. He heard Sarah typing at her computer, and Harold was on the phone speaking in formal, quiet tones, most likely another phone screening for a job.

Bob headed up to his room and shut the door before sitting before his computer. He started Skype and hesitated. He really shouldn't be disturbing his mother if she was sick, but worry weighed too heavily on his mind.

He initiated the call, and to his surprise, it was answered in less than a minute. When the video started, it was jerky at first, and the camera was aimed above his mother's head at a wall. A hand reached to the side and the camera slid back down, and it was clear that Eileen was taking the call from her laptop in bed. "Hey, Bobby!" Eileen said in a raspy voice. She coughed a few times before saying, "Sorry, I mean Bob."

Bob smiled faintly. "It's all right. Maybe I'm being silly for insisting on it."

Eileen shook her head. "Just means my little guy is growing up."

"How are you feeling?"

"Eh, like shit," Eileen said. The video was still shaking a bit, and it took Bob a moment to realize it was because his mother was shivering. "Typical for the flu."

"Didn't it hit you kinda hard?"

Eileen chuckled weakly, only to have it devolve into another coughing fit. "Yeah, it pretty much knocked me flat soon as I got home."

Bob gave her mother a troubled look. "I'm a little worried about you, Mom."

Eileen waved a hand. "It's just the flu, I've had it before. I'll get over it and be just fine."

"It's just that something's really weird about it."

Eileen tilted her head. "What's up?"

"Well, this is going to sound a bit stupid, but--" He explained about the others' hair problems and Laura's eyes.

Eileen smirked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Jenny didn't mention anything about it when she talked to me this morning. I guess I just didn't notice the pink streak in her hair. You sure the rest of the family's not pulling a prank on you or something?"

"Mom, I'd know dye or a wig if I saw it," said Bob. "Also, if this was some new affliction, wouldn't it be more consistent? Like everyone's hair would turn a single color, or be a variation of their existing color. Instead, there's no rhyme or reason to it." He paused. "And it's not just here."

Eileen paused to cough again and to wrap the blanket around her more tightly, which steadied the video somewhat. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm seeing it at school, too. Many of them are trying to hide it with hats or hoods or bad dye jobs, but about a quarter of the other students have some form of oddly colored hair. Even some of the teachers have it."

"And you think this has something to do with the flu?"

"Well, I don't have any hard evidence," said Bob. "It's the only thing everyone with this has in common."

"So why am I not hearing about this?" Eileen asked. "Sounds like prime fodder for the internet." Her voice broke up into a spasm of coughing, and she shivered so hard the laptop screen pitched backwards. For a few seconds, Bob saw nothing but the picture hanging on the wall above the headboard. Eileen yanked it back into view and groaned. "I'm really sorry, but I gotta get some rest. This is really taking a lot out of me. I hadn't wanted to say anything, but--"

Bob forced a small smile. "It's okay, I understand. Take care of yourself, Mom."

Eileen's lips curled into a trembling smile. "Email me if anything else happens. I'll try to reply when I'm feeling better."

"I will, I promise. I love you, Mom."

Eileen's smile steadied. "I love you, too."

Bob closed the call and turned to his browser. It still displayed the article he had been reading that morning before school, which contained a picture of a smiling Sarah standing beside her first major archaeological find, a previously unknown cliff dwelling uncovered in the wake of a forest fire.

He opened a new tab. His first searches concerning odd hair color turned up little more than furry and cosplay sites. He was about to give up when he finally came upon a tumblr blog of a young woman. She had posted a picture of a streak of violet in her hair, dated that morning, claiming it had spontaneously appeared.

He looked back at her earlier posts. He found one saying how she was finally recovering from a bout of the flu she got while on a ski trip to Breckenridge, which was 15 miles south of Lazy Pines. He clicked over to her profile, hoping to see something that would hint she was posting from Lazy Pines, or somewhere else in Colorado.

She was posting from Arizona.





Harold looked up from where he had been watching TV in the living room when he heard the door to Bob's room open. "Hey, sport. Everything okay?"

Bob hesitated halfway down the stairs. "Just worried about stuff."

Harold thumbed the "mute" button on the remote and tossed it aside. "I can tell. Want to talk about it?"

Bob continued down the stairs and shrugged. "Nothing more to tell. I already said what I thought was causing this hair thing."

Harold ran his fingers through his own hair. "We're all concerned about it, but that's not what I meant."

Bob had started past the sofa to the kitchen, but stopped and looked at Harold. "What do you mean?"

"You've been acting really distant lately."

Bob sighed and looked away.

"It started before your mother visited, and it seemed to get worse after that."

Bob's jaw tightened. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Are you angry with me?" asked Harold. "With Sarah?"

Bob remained silent.

"Because if you are, I haven't a clue why," Harold said gently. "And that bothers me."

"Tell me the truth," said Bob. "Am I wanted here?"

Harold blinked in surprise. "Of course you are. Why would you think otherwise? I know Laura and Jenny don't involve you in a lot of stuff but--"

Bob shook his head halfway through Harold's sentence. "I don't have anything in common with them. I'm fine with them doing their own thing."

"Then where did that question come from?"

"You took me in because you always wanted a son."

Harold had not recalled telling Bob that directly, but he saw no reason to lie about it. "Yes, that's right, but that wasn't the only consideration. Sarah and I wanted you to have a good home. Forgive me for saying this about your mother, but she just wasn't up to the task of raising you."

Bob nodded quickly. "No, I understand all that. I mean, maybe she is now."

Harold decided not to debate that point. "Do you want to go back with her?"

"I don't know." Bob paused. "Jenny was unexpected, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was. Sarah had failed repeatedly to conceive again before that. We were very surprised to discover she was pregnant a few weeks after we took you in."

Bob turned his head as Sarah began talking on the phone in her office.

"So why is this coming up now?" said Harold. "I don't remember discussing this with you."

Bob listened to a few snippets of conversation before turning back to Harold. "Voices really carry in this house, you know?"

Harold gave him a puzzled look. "Huh?"

Bob shook his head. "Look, I need to get to my homework, and I'm really thirsty. I just want to get some water and head back upstairs."

He fled before Harold could say another word.

Harold pondered Bob's words. He remembered how Jenny had heard him and Sarah arguing the day before and tried to slip up the stairs unnoticed. He recalled several other arguments that he had recently ...

Harold suddenly sighed and dropped his face into his hands. "Shit," he muttered before heading to Sarah's office.

Sarah spun around in his chair. "That was Greg. You're not going to believe this. Someone tried to hack his computer, the one he had the pics on."

"Sarah," Harold said softly. "We need to talk."

"Didn't you just hear what I said?"

"It's about Bob. He heard us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Two weeks ago. That little dust-up we had about finances when, uh, certain things were said in the heat of the moment."

Sarah just stared at him for another confused moment before finally uttering a despairing sigh. "Dammit." She stood. "Yes, this is more important."

"Let's go for a walk," said Harold.

They donned their jackets, called up to Bob that they were stepping out for a short while, and headed out the door. "Bob is very smart," said Sarah as they reached the street. "He's going to figure out that we're talking about him."

"Let him," said Harold. "Maybe he'll think we actually care about how he feels, which we do."

Sarah sighed. "Remind me again what we said?"

"I said something to the effect that I hadn't asked for three kids. Then you countered about not being the one to want a son so badly that I was willing to take in someone else's kid. Then I said something about you wanting just as bad to yank Bob away from your sister. Somewhere along the way we started arguing about not waiting long enough to know you were pregnant--"

"Okay, I get it," Sarah muttered.

"I feel like we used him as a punching bag," said Harold.

"I care for Bob just as much as I do for our daughters. So do you. Surely he knows that."

"Honestly? I don't know," said Harold. "Maybe he got a bad vibe from me. I'll come clean, Sarah. I had hoped for a son I could spend a lot of time with, who wanted to do things my Dad did with me. But I'm an outdoors guy and he's not."

"But you two had something in common the last couple of years," said Sarah. "You're in the IT industry now and he's into computer programming."

"Yeah, and I've tried to engage him in conversation about it, but he never wants to hang around for more than ten minutes, like all these years has made him uncomfortable around me."

"And yet he started calling you Dad!" Sarah declared. "I don't get it."

"Maybe it was just to placate me. Something like, 'see, I'm calling you Dad now, so you can stop trying to be my Dad.'"

"That's not at all logical."

"He's a teenager. By definition, he doesn't have to be logical."

Sarah turned to face her husband. "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now. Both my career and my family seem to be falling apart at the seams. Yes, I know, you don't like it when I inject my career into discussions about family, but right now the two seemed inextricably linked."

Harold scratched his head. "We may have to make some very hard decisions, like moving someplace where I can find a job."

"That's not going to magically fix things."

"No, it won't. But it will introduce some damn stability and income." He took a deep breath. "And that's assuming this stupid hair thing is not some new disease that's going to drain our finances further."

Sarah picked up a few strands of her hair. "This is really what we should be worrying about, isn't it? It seems so stupid that something like a change in hair color scares the hell out of me."

Harold wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist and drew her close. "No, it doesn't sound stupid at all."





Laura buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket and shivered as the air had become decidedly colder during the progression of the day. She glanced up at the mountains where clouds slowly brewed, a mist rolling down their sides in prelude to another spring storm.

Jenny suddenly burst past her before spinning around to face her, hair whipping around her head. "I need a place to act out a scene."

"Of course you do," said Laura in a low voice. "We can go to the park."

"There are a lot more interesting places than that around here."

"But knowing you, they're either dangerous or on private property. So it's the park or we go home."

Jenny placed her hands on her hips. "Wow, way to be really bossy."

"Call it whatever you want," said Laura. "But Mom put me in charge of you, and I'm taking it seriously."

"Yeah, almost too serious."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jenny shook her head. "Never mind, forget it."

Laura stepped up to her. "Look, I just want to do this right. I don't want to fail ... to fail to live up to Mom's expectations of me."

Jenny made gagging noises.

"Stop it. Now, do we go to the park or home?"

Jenny sighed dramatically. "The park."

"Thank you."

Laura soon realized with chagrin that Jenny was not going to wait until they got to the park to start her "acting". She wished she knew how Jenny had gone from being an almost painfully shy kid at five to this at fourteen. She was often mystified as to how little she knew her sister, but then again, the days when they were inseparable were long past.

At the park, Jenny became even more dramatic, her voice rising such that other park-goers glanced in her direction in amusement. Perhaps it was just a distraction from their own woes, as some of them sported streaks of odd color in their hair.

Jenny stopped and reached around behind her head. She pulled a fistful of pink hair into view. "You know, maybe I can do something with this anyway."

Laura stared. "Huh?"

Jenny tossed the hair behind her. "I had hoped for blue hair. It fit in perfectly with one of the main characters, but I can make pink work after all."

"Wait, you actually want this to happen?"

"Why not?"

"I don't believe this," Laura murmured.

"Purple!" Jenny cried. "Purple eyes to go with the pink hair. That would work."

"You're insane," Laura blurted. "Aren't you worried about this?"

Jenny paused. "Yeah, a little," she said in a softer voice. "I just don't want to freak out over it."

"I'm not freaking out," said Laura.

"Yeah, but you don't know how to have fun with it."

"And why do you feel the need to do that?"

"Because the real world is boring."

Laura paused. "Run that by me again?"

Jenny grinned. "The world is boring. My own head is more exciting. I know I can write this stuff down, but it's like that's not enough." Jenny threw up her arms. "My hair is turning pink! Maybe my eyes will turn purple or some other color! It's weird, it's maybe a little scary, but you know what it's not?"

One corner of Laura's mouth rose. "Boring?"

"Exactly."

"I still think you're insane," Laura said. "I mean, come on, you actually trespassed on Fred Turner's property."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Like I'm the first one in the family who ever did something like that. Dad did it when he was a kid."

"Now you're just making stuff up."

"I'm not!" said Jenny. "He told me a cool story once. He and a friend sneaked onto a nearby rancher's property to shoot off fireworks. They were pretending to be soldiers on a battlefield. The firecrackers were gunshots, the bottle rockets artillery, that sort of thing."

Laura gave her a skeptical look. "I never heard him tell that one."

"Well, yeah, it was a while ago," said Jenny in a more subdued voice. "He kinda stopped telling me more stories after that."

"Probably to stop giving you dangerous ideas."

Jenny shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, like I told Mom, I didn't know it was Turner's land. Except for the gun, he didn't look very scary. For one thing, he wasn't very tall." She giggled. "And he had a full head of peach hair and was wearing silly ears on his head."

Laura's eyes widened. "What do you mean, silly ears?"

"It looked like something you'd see someone wearing at a furrycon," said Jenny. "He looked ridiculous."

Laura paled.

Jenny tilted her head. "You okay?"

"T-Turner is the person I think I caught the flu from," Laura said in a quavering voice.

Jenny's eyes widened. "Really?"

"He was sick when I saw him in the grocery store a few weeks ago. I had the first flu symptoms two days after that."

Jenny paused for a long moment before finally giving her sister a weak smile. "I think you're worrying too much. Really, if you had seen him for yourself, you'd think the same thing I did."

Laura ran a trembling hand through her hair. "I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it, aren't I?"
> Chapter 8 - Family Forgotten
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starlight turned her head towards Twilight as they stepped aboard the train. "You haven't told me yet exactly what we're going to do in Canterlot this morning."

Twilight glanced around to ensure they were alone. She had requested a private car; she generally didn't like to use her princess privilege in that manner, but this time she felt it justified. "We're going to start our investigation with that name we found last night," she said as they took their seats.

"And how can we do that if this pony has been effectively erased from history?" asked Starlight. "And even from ponies' minds?"

"By starting with the minds I know best," said Twilight with a faint smile. "My parents."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

Outside, the conductor shouted, "All aboard!" Twilight waited until the train lurched away from the station before answering. "Are you aware of Canterlot foal naming traditions?"

"Only vaguely," said Starlight. "You got your first name from your mother, Twilight Velvet, right?"

"Yes, and Sparkle is a variation on Light."

"So how did they ever name your brother Shining Armor?"

"My mother's grandfather was named Steel Armor and was a very well-respected member of the Royal Guard," said Twilight. "He had passed away a few months before Shining was born, and Mom wanted to honor the stallion's memory. 'Shining' was the best name they could come up with on the light theme that worked with 'Armor'."

"Okay, I follow you so far," said Starlight. "What about it?"

"My grandfather on my father's side is Shimmering Light. His wife is named Sunset Glow."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. You really think--"

"--that if they ever had a daughter, they could potentially name her 'Sunset Shimmer'."

"But they didn't," said Starlight. "You told me your father had no siblings."

Twilight nodded. "I know. But if he did have a sister, she would be my aunt."

"Wow," Starlight breathed.

"This is personal now, Starlight," Twilight said. "This has affected my own family. If my theory is right, we've been made to forget this pony was ever our kin. My grandparents are the kindest ponies you could ever meet. The idea that they could've been made to forget they ever had a daughter is revolting."

Starlight nodded, her eyes averted.

"Something the matter?" Twilight asked.

"Oh, um, no, it's fine," said Starlight in a subdued voice.

"No, it's not," declared Twilight. "What is it?"

Starlight sighed. "I was just thinking how easy it would've been for me to do something like this when I was messing with the timeline."

Twilight placed a hoof on Starlight's shoulder. "Please, don't make up reasons to feel guilty just for the sake of it."

Starlight frowned and looked at Twilight. "But what if this is my fault? What if I did do something that set this in motion somehow? For all I know, maybe I was the pony who put that mind magic spell on the book and--"

"No," said Twilight. "Starlight, during our fight, I became very aware of how the energies of the time stream operated. I don't feel anything remotely like that here. This is not a timeline disruption."

Starlight smiled faintly. "I hope you're right about that."

"Think of it this way: you know all about how small things can change history. Put that knowledge to use here and help me find ways to poke more holes in this dark magic spell."

"You really think we can do that?"

"Dark magic is powerful but not very precise," said Twilight. "It was never meant for something this delicate. That means if we can get aspects of reality to actively fight against it, it will weaken." She paused. "And force the original caster to renew it."

"And thus forcing the caster to reveal her identity," said Starlight. "Um, or his identity."

Twilight sighed. "It's okay, Starlight. I'm resigned to the idea that Celestia is the number one suspect. She's the only pony around twenty years ago who could pull off such a feat. Luna was still on the moon and Cadance had only just become an alicorn. This is indeed alicorn-level magic."

"I'm sorry, Twilight," said Starlight softly.

"What we don't know -- and what I truly hope will make some sort of sense -- is Celestia's motivation. What in Equestria would drive her to completely erase the existence of one particular pony?"





Celestia peered at the remaining fruit on the breakfast platter, looking thoughtful. She finally plucked a slice of apple in her magic and raised it to her muzzle. She glanced past it. "You've been rather quiet this morning, dear sister," she said gently before popping the slice in her mouth.

"My apologies, Tia," said Luna with a small smile. "I have things on my mind."

Celestia considered. "Would it have anything to do with that letter you received just before I raised the sun?"

Luna had not realized Celestia had seen her with that letter. Now that she did, she was not surprised Celestia had asked about it. It may seem like an innocent question to most, but where Celestia was trusting to a fault, this was the equivalent of rampant paranoia. "In a way, yes."

"May I ask what it was about?"

Luna was quite tempted to give her sister a taste of her own medicine and be just as elusive as she but decided it was best to allay suspicion. "It was from Twilight Sparkle, thanking me for helping her with a particularly difficult nightmare."

While that had indeed been in the letter, the context had been different. It had also indicated Twilight would be in Canterlot that morning.

"Twilight? A nightmare?" Celestia said.

Luna could not tell if her sister's surprise were genuine or not. "Everypony experiences nightmares now and then, and Twilight is no different."

Celestia chuckled. "I know, dear Luna, but I simply want to make sure Twilight is in the correct frame of mind for a task I have for her."

Luna hesitated. "Task?"

"I was originally intending to leave Canterlot in two days to resume talks with the changelings," said Celestia. "But then I realized that this would be an excellent opportunity for the Princess of Friendship."

Normally, Luna would agree, but now she had to suspect Celestia's motivations. "While I believe Twilight would indeed excel at any task you place before her, isn't this more suited for the head of state?"

"Really, the only use I have in the end is placing my signature upon the final documents."

"But where you have already started this work, doesn't it make more sense for you to finish it?"

Celestia smiled. "Now, Luna, one would think you have some doubts as to my intentions. I only wish to help broaden Twilight's experience."

"And one would think you still consider her your student who needs regular assignments to keep her busy," said Luna, unable to contain her frustration anymore.

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "Twilight is free to refuse my request. Of course, I will insist on knowing why. We will know soon, as I intend to head to the Castle of Friendship after breakfast."

Luna kept her expression as neutral as she could, very much aware of her sister's scrutiny. "Might I suggest you wait one more day?"

Celestia hesitated. "For what reason?"

"Twilight's nightmare disrupted her sleep. She is likely feeling a bit frazzled this morning. Giving her a day to recover would put her in a better state of mind." Luna hated lying. She wished this had been the day before, just after Twilight had actually experienced her nightmare, at which point Luna's statement might contain a kernel of truth.

Celestia considered as she selected another bit of fruit. She stared at the slice of peach, slowly turning it over and over as she contemplated. "Very well."

Luna did not trust the flat tone in her sister's voice. She forced a smile and rose to her hooves. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast as always, but I need to retire for the day."

Celestia's smile returned as if it had never left. "Of course, dear sister. Pleasant dreams."

Luna headed out of the chamber and cantered down the hall. At the entrance to her quarters, her night pony guards came to attention. She jabbed a hoof towards one. "I have an important task for you."

"Yes, Princess," said the guard.

"Follow me inside."

The guard dutifully followed and stood just inside the door. Luna closed it behind him with a nudge of magic and grabbed a scroll and quill. "You are to be discreet," said Luna. "You are not to reveal the nature of your mission to anypony. If asked, you are to deny you are even on a task for me. Is this clear?"

"I understand, Princess!"

Luna wrote on the scroll: Twilight, there is a danger that Celestia may try to visit you at the Castle today. I believe she is trying to divert you from your course. Use your best judgment as to how to proceed.

She rolled up the scroll and levitated it to the guard, who tucked it under his wing. "Find Princess Twilight Sparkle and give that to her," said Luna. "She is in Canterlot, most likely at her parents' residence."

"I will do as you command, Princess!" the guard declared.

"Then go."

The guard bowed his head and left.

Luna wasn't quite done. She had to delay her sister from going to Ponyville long enough for Twilight to receive the letter. She had an idea who might be persuaded to help, even if it was a long shot.

Then again, it had been a while since he had pulled a prank in the palace. He was long overdue.





The unicorn mare who came to the door gasped in delight as her eyes fell upon Twilight. "Oh, heavens! Twily!"

Twilight smiled. "Hi, Mom."

"Come here!" said Twilight Velvet as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Behind Twilight, Starlight glanced away, shuffling one of her fore-hooves. "I had heard you were in Canterlot the other day."

"Sorry I didn't visit then, Mom."

Velvet broke off the hug and beamed at her daughter. "Please, Twily, no need at all to apologize, we understand you're so very busy these days." She tilted her head and looked past Twilight. "Oh, hello."

Starlight waved a fore-hoof. "Um, h-hi."

Velvet smiled. "You must be Starlight Glimmer."

Starlight hesitated before stepping forward and offering her fore-hoof. "Um, yes, I am. Pleased to meet -- oof!"

Velvet hugged her as well. "Any friend of our daughter is a friend of us."

"Er, thanks," Starlight murmured.

"Please, won't you both come in?" said Velvet as she broke off the hug. As she turned and headed inside, she called out, "Nighty! We have visitors! Twilight and her friend Starlight!"

A unicorn stallion cantered into the room. "Oh, my stars, hello, Twilight!" said Night Light.

"Hi, Dad," said Twilight. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."

Night waved a hoof. "Nonsense! We always have time for you, Twily."

"Would you like something to eat?" said Velvet.

"No, I'm okay," said Twilight.

"Are you sure? You look a bit thin to me."

Twilight blushed. "Mom, please ..."

Starlight pressed her hoof to her muzzle to hide a grin.

"How about just something to drink?" said Twilight. "Maybe some juice? Would you like some as well, Starlight?"

"Yes, please, thank you," said Starlight.

Velvet smiled. "Be right back."

Night stepped forward as his wife trotted off to the kitchen. "Please, everypony, sit down."

Twilight hopped onto the sofa, and Starlight followed. "I'm afraid this is not strictly a social visit, Dad," said Twilight.

Night sat in an easy chair. "Oh? Is something wrong?"

"You could say that, but not with me. Actually, this concerns you and your immediate family."

Velvet returned with a tray and several glasses of apple juice. "Does it now?" she asked as she set the tray down on the table. She stood next to her husband's chair and placed a hoof on his shoulder.

Starlight immediately levitated a glass to her muzzle, but Twilight ignored hers. "This is kind of hard to explain," said Twilight. "In fact, it's going to sound kind of weird. Let me try this: have you ... have either of you heard the name Sunset Shimmer?"

Night glanced at Velvet, who shook her head. Night looked back to his daughter. "Can't say that the name rings a bell, Twily, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Twilight sighed. "Well, it's not fine, but it's not your fault."

"Who is Sunset Shimmer, dear?" asked Velvet gently. "Maybe if you explain to us who she is, we might remember her."

"I doubt it," said Twilight. She looked at her father. "She's your sister."

Night's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Honey, your father never had a sister," said Velvet in confusion.

"Indeed, I've always been an only foal," said Night.

Velvet's gaze flicked to Starlight. "Wait a minute, dear," she said to Night. "Starlight here was the one who did a bit of mischief with the timeline."

Starlight blinked. "Mischief? That's ... a rather weak word to describe what I did."

"Perhaps that's what this is all about?" Velvet suggested.

"Ah, I see!" said Night. "Meaning in some alternate timeline, I have a sister."

"No, that's not what we mean!" Starlight declared. "We mean you have a sister in this timeline but you forgot her!"

Night and Velvet stared at her. "What?" Night said in a small voice.

Twilight frowned. She had wanted to break this a little more gently, but perhaps the shock would help break the influence of the spell. "I know this sounds incredible, and there's a chance I may be wrong," said Twilight. "Dad, I want you to think very hard on the name Sunset Shimmer and see if it means anything to you."

"I'll do my best, Twily," said Night. "I do admit, it sounds like a name my parents would give a daughter."

"Didn't you tell me your parents wanted a daughter at some point, dear?" Velvet asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

Twilight finally levitated a glass towards her. "How strongly did they want one?"

"Pretty strongly, I would say. Normally I'd tell you to talk to your Grandpa Light or Grandma Glow for more details, but it's kind of a sensitive topic for them."

"Sensitive topic?" Starlight asked. "Why?"

"Your friend is ... quite forthright, Twilight, dear," said Velvet.

Twilight smiled at Starlight. "Yes, but I often like that about her."

Starlight slowly smiled as well.

Velvet glanced down at her husband. "You don't have to tell them if you feel too uncomfortable about it," she said softly.

Night shook his head. "No, Twily doesn't bring up stuff like this for no reason." He sighed and gave Twilight a sad look. "When I was very young, my parents told me they planned to have another foal and were hoping for a daughter. I was quite delighted at the prospect of having a sibling. Yet after repeated failures to conceive, my mother had to tell me that it might not happen. I was so disappointed that I, um, well ..." He fidgeted a bit. "I invented an imaginary sister."

Twilight's eyes widened. "You did what?"

Night blushed. "This is a little embarrassing."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way at all," said Twilight. "But I find it very odd you would happen to do this when I think you might have had a real sister."

Night exchanged a troubled look with Velvet.

"What did you call her?" asked Starlight.

"I called her 'Sunny'," said Night. "But only because it was based on my mother's name."

Twilight frowned. "Or a nickname for 'Sunset Shimmer'."

"Really, Twily, she was as imaginary as the characters in those Daring Do books you enjoy."

"Never mind that, I--" Twilight stopped. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Um, as imaginary as characters in a story?"

"No, that's not what you said. You said Daring Do."

Night blinked. "I did?"

"Yes, you did," Velvet said, bemused.

"I heard it, too," said Starlight. "I just don't get what the significance is."

"The events recounted in Daring Do are real," Twilight said.

Starlight stared at her. "You're joking ... right?"

"It's a long story, I'll tell you later. The point is, I told my parents about it. They know Daring Do is real as well."

Night's pupils shrank slightly. "But then why did I--?"

"Because something in your subconscious -- where you know you had a real sister -- was looking for a way to slip past the magical censor that's suppressing your memories!"

Stark silence settled over the room. Night's eyes glistened. "Good heavens," he whispered before giving Velvet a stricken look. "Could ... c-could I really have had a sister I don't remember?"

Velvet pressed a comforting hoof into her husband's shoulder before casting a troubled gaze at her daughter. "Twily, I don't mean to be cross with you, but the subject of his imaginary sister is more sensitive than he's let on. It ... it caused quite a row in his family right when you were still a foal."

Twilight's eyes widened. "When did that happen?"

"Twily, please--"

"I'm sorry, I know this is painful, but I have to know! When did it happen?"

"Twenty-one years ago," said Night in a quavering voice.

Twilight whipped her head towards Starlight. "Before we left the castle, I had another look at that dark magic spell."

Night's pupils shrank to pinpricks, and Velvet swallowed hard.

"I wanted to see if I could figure out how old it is. I was able to estimate the date of the casting of that spell to about twenty to twenty-one years ago!"

"And that matches the last date of residency in that house on Old Canterlot Way," said Starlight.

"It all fits! They're all tied together somehow!"

Starlight nodded. "I agree, we're really on to something."

Night began shivering hard.

"Something else," Twilight said. "Twenty-one years ago was when Cadance started foalsitting me. If I really did have an aunt, and she was doing that task, that would naturally stop by the time she disappeared and--"

" ... bad influence ..." Night murmured.

Twilight spun around in her seat. "What did you say?"

Night blinked rapidly. His muscles suddenly relaxed. "Huh? Oh, nothing."

"I could've sworn you said 'bad influence'."

"I-I heard it, too," said Velvet.

Night frowned slightly. "Yes, Twily, my parents thought the whole imaginary sister idea would be a bad influence on you, so they insisted I stop."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You were doing the imaginary sister thing into your adulthood? Isn't that kinda weird?"

Night blushed. "Well, I didn't do it seriously, I'm sure. But I don't think my parents wanted to be reminded of their failure to have a daughter."

"Twily," Velvet said in a shaky voice. "Did you say 'dark magic' earlier?"

"Yes, I did," said Twilight. "There is a huge dark magic enchantment that's suppressing all record and memory of Sunset Shimmer. But the fact that I was able to get Dad to fight against it, even if briefly, means I may be able to break its hold without--"

A loud knock at the door startled them. Night bolted out of the chair. "I'll get it!" he cried as he galloped away.

"I'm going to have to be frank, Twilight," Velvet said. "I'm a little scared right now."

Twilight got off the sofa and trotted over to her. She drew her mother into a hug. "I'm going to figure this out, I promise."

"Um, T-Twilight?" said Night.

Starlight's pupils shrunk. Twilight uttered a small gasp and broke off the hug.

"It's for you," Night said in a weak voice.

The night pony stallion marched forward. "Princess Twilight Sparkle!" He passed a scroll to Twilight. "Important message for you from Princess Luna."

"Luna??" Twilight cried. She took the scroll in her magic. "Yes, thank you."

The guard came to attention, bowed, then turned and headed out.

Starlight rushed over to her as Twilight unrolled the scroll. "Oh, no!" said Twilight.

"I think Princess Celestia's on to us." Starlight said in a nervous voice.

"And I left that book on the table in the library! I better get a letter off to Spike!"

"Is everything all right?" Velvet asked tentatively.

Twilight rolled up the scroll and tucked it in her mane. "Um, I have a bit of an emergency right now. I'll be back as soon as I can. And please, if you remember anything else, let me know! Come on, Starlight!"





Celestia truly did not enjoy lying any more than Luna had. She wished she could explain at length how everything she did was with her beloved ponies in mind. Yet she could not risk even the slightest possibility that the enchantment would degrade before she had a chance to renew it. Before she could do that, she needed Twilight as far away from Canterlot as possible, or the surge of dark magic would be detected. She needed to keep up the deception only as long as it took her to figure out what had gone wrong. Then she could come clean and accept either Twilight's forgiveness or unending hatred.

Then she'd have the monumental task of forgiving herself.

She had intended to make a brief announcement at the opening of Day Court that she needed to delay the proceedings due to an urgent matter, yet she then faced what became the daunting challenge of getting to Day Court.

The usual corridor she took had been the scene of an unfortunate collision between the cleaning staff and the cooking staff. A very large cake that was being transported to a banquet hall for one of the nobility's many social engagements lay splattered across the width of the hallway, burying several ponies in thick vanilla cake and pink frosting. Guards frantically tried to reach the stuck ponies as best as the slick floor would allow.

"Our sincerest apologies, Princess Celestia," said the head chef in his usual snooty voice. "But may I ask you take an alternate route so we can clean this up?"

"Very well," Celestia said as she turned away.

"Of course, Your Highness could chose to eat her way through it."

Celestia blinked and spun around. "What did you just say to me??"

"That you could heat your way through it," said the chef. "Using your horn, of course. One good blast should do it, if you're careful not to hit the other ponies."

"Ah, no," said Celestia. "I'll be on my way."

Celestia made a mental note to send a memo to the palace counselor. The chef had obviously been working too hard.

She turned down a less-used corridor, only to find it filled with foals of the nobility using it as a makeshift go-cart derby. "Oh, sorry about that, Princess!" said the lilting voice of the nanny. "I didn't realize they'd be in the way this morning."

Celestia smiled softly. "It's all right."

"Shall I have them stop and clear a path for your vast posterior?"

"No, I don't have the heart to--" She stared. "Wait, clear a path for what?"

The nanny smiled. "For my vast superior."

Celestia tilted her head. "Um ... no, that's fine. I'll find another route."

She glanced back as she headed away. All the carts had cakes painted on them.

Celestia headed down another hallway. She stopped to get her bearings, worked out several convoluted ways to get to Day Court before finally stomping a fore-hoof. "Oh, ponyfeathers, I'll just teleport."

A flash of light later, and she was inside her court. She frowned as she realized she was not quite where she had targeted. She had wanted to appear beside her throne facing the door. Instead, she was standing in the middle of the room, facing her throne.

"Ah, Princess, very good, you're here!"

Celestia whirled around. She looked past the lone unicorn noble towards the still closed doors. "Prince Blueblood, how did you get -- actually, I don't care. I am sorry, but Day Court is delayed. Please relay that to your fellow nobles. Now, if you will excuse me--"

"But, Princess, I have a matter of utmost urgency!" said Blueblood. His horn glowed, and he extracted a scroll from his mane.

"I am sure it can wait."

"This is quite the emergency, Princess. We need an immediate decision about critically low supplies at the palace."

Celestia frowned. "What could possibly be so urgent that it warrants a delay from a critical task I must perform?"

Blueblood unrolled the scroll. "Cake."

Celestia blinked. "Cake?"

"Indeed, cake!"

Celestia face-hoofed. "I see what's happening here, Blueblood. You've been lured into taking part of an elaborate prank that--"

"For instance, Princess, is there enough of it?" said Blueblood.

"You're likely under the influence of a--"

"Are the cakes big enough? Do they really go right to the Princess' flanks?"

Celestia narrowed her eyes. "That's quite enough."

"Does the Princess get gas when she has cake?" Blueblood rambled on. "If so, is there adequate ventilation when she--"

"ENOUGH!" Celestia shouted. "I'll deal with this nonsense when I get back." She started past the Prince.

"But would you stay if this concerned Old Canterlot Way?" declared Blueblood.

Celestia froze at the door. She slowly turned around. "Why do you believe I would be interested in that?"

"Oh, but everypony has their secrets, Princess," said Blueblood in a sly voice. "Now may I have a proper hearing?"

Celestia's mind raced. Could the nobles have found out? Or had Twilight mentioned something to them? No, she had little use for the nobles herself. This could be just a fishing expedition, but Celestia could not take the chance.

"Very well," said Celestia in a low voice as she trotted over to him.

"Please, Princess," said Blueblood, gesturing with a hoof. "Be so kind as to seat your ample plot upon your throne."

"My what?!"

"Your regal plot."

Celestia narrowed her eyes as she stepped past the Prince. "I do not care for my ... posterior to be referred to by that particular word no matter what adjective precedes it." She reached her throne and turned around. "So kindly refrain from--"

As she sat down upon the cushion covering her throne, it let out a farting noise of such intensity that it shook the walls and rattled the windows, continuing for almost a full minute until it was heard everywhere in the palace.

Before a stunned Celestia could respond, Blueblood snorted, then fell to the floor howling with laughter.

Celestia sighed and draped a foreleg over her eyes. "Discord, I presume."

Blueblood vanished in a flash of light, to be replaced with the still laughing draconequus. "Oh, my! The look on your face just now! It was priceless!"

Celestia stood up. "Really, Discord, a whoopee cushion? Isn't that a tad passe?"

Discord drew himself up to his full height. "I like to think of it as the classics never go out of style." He snapped his talons, and a plate filled with angel food cake hovered before him. "Here's some cake to make up for it."

"Ah, no, thank you."

"Oh, but I do insist." He gave the plate a flip, launching the cake towards Celestia.

Her horn glowed, and a blast of magic intercepted it. Rather than incinerating as she had intended, it splattered in all directions, hitting the windows. Whatever window it hit, the scene formerly displayed on it was replaced with a painting of Celestia eating cake.

"Is there a reason for all this?" Celestia said in a tired voice.

Discord munched on the empty plate. "You mean other than wanting to play a long overdue prank on Princess Sunbutt?"

"Why did you mention Old Canterlot Way?"

Discord finished off the plate and licked his talons. "There used to be a very good bakery there that had the finest cakes."

Celestia face-hoofed. "Discord, could we turn the topic to something other than cake?"

"Oh, very well. Truthfully? It was ..." Discord waved a talon, and the room was cast into absolute darkness. Celestia illuminated her horn in time to see Discord conjure a bow and launch an arrow in a random direction.

"A shot in the dark?" Celestia said. "Was it the same with the stuff about secrets?"

Discord chuckled, conjured a pull-chain, and tugged on it. It clicked, and full light returned to the room. "Now, now, my dear Princess. Do you honestly think I wouldn't have seen that little rip in the fabric of reality? I figured you must be concealing it for some reason and thought it would be good for a little entertainment." A container of popcorn materialized in his paw. "I was not disappointed."

Celestia stepped up to him. "Do you intend to share this information concerning the rift with anypony else?"

"And spoil my fun? Not a chance!" A flash of light, and Discord was dressed like a boxer. He adopted a fighting stance and made some quick jabs in the air. "I'm quite looking forward to seeing you in a match-up against Sparklebutt."

"I don't want this to be a 'match-up', Discord. I don't like being at odds with her."

Discord shrugged, and his boxing paraphernalia vanished. "I must say, this is unusual for you, Celestia. Being so secretive and confrontational. Not what I expected from you at all." He leaned over and whispered to her with a sly smile. "Keep up the good work." He winked and vanished. A moment later, the windows faded back to their original scenes.

Celestia frowned. "I'm doing this to prevent a confrontation, not encourage one."

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Discord had appeared in one of the windows. "Who are you trying to convince, Celestia? Me? Or yourself?" He vanished once more.





"All right, I got a letter off to Spike," said Twilight. "He'll secure the book in one of the shielded rooms I use for practicing potentially dangerous magic. That should hide it from Celestia's senses."

"But that's not going to solve the problem of us not being there," Starlight said. "How are we going to get back to the Castle in time?"

"If it were just me, I could fly most of the way and teleport the remaining distance."

"Maybe you should go on ahead, then."

"We both have to be there," Twilight said. "You said yourself that she suspects you can be of great help to me in any investigation. We can't afford to raise any more suspicions!"

"Then what do we do?"

Twilight glanced up into the sky. "I have an idea. Starlight, you can hold that self-levitation spell for quite a while, right?"

"Well, yes, but I can't fly very well with it," said Starlight. "Certainly nowhere near as fast as you."

"You won't have to. I'll be your wings."

Starlight's pupils shrank. "Are you serious?"

"You have any other ideas?"

Starlight sighed. "No. All right, let's try it." Her horn glowed, the aura spreading over the rest of her body. Her hooves left the ground a moment later. "Now what?"

Twilight extended her wings. She rose into the air and situated herself over her student, then wrapped her fore-legs around Starlight's barrel.

Starlight yelped. "Um, well, this isn't awkward at all. Nope, not a bit."

Twilight blushed as she flew up and forward with Starlight in tow. "Oh, hush."

"Just get us back to the Castle as quickly as possible so I can start forgetting this ever happened."





"Twilight Sparkle!" Celestia's voice rang from the entrance of the Castle of Friendship. "Starlight Glimmer! May I speak with you both for a few moments?"

Spike hurried back up the stairs from the depths of the subterranean magic labs as fast as his feet would carry him. "Oh, um, hey, there, Princess!" Spike said in a bright if slightly quavering voice. "What brings you here?"

Celestia swept her gaze over the room as she stepped forward. She smiled down at Spike. "I have a task for Twilight and her pupil. If you would be so kind as to inform them I am here, I would appreciate it."

"Ah, well, um ..."

"Is something the matter?"

"They're ... they're out!"

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Out?"

"Way out!" said Spike. "I mean, they're far away. Er, not that far away! They're in town. Somewhere."

Celestia chuckled. "You appear to be a little confused. Are you certain they have not taken a little trip somewhere?"

"Positive! They're right here in town."

Celestia nodded and turned away. "Then perhaps I will look for them in Ponyville. It's been too long since I paid the citizens of this town an informal visit."

Spike's eyes widened. "Oh, but they'll be back soon! We just have to wait for them, that's all."

Celestia turned back around. "Now, Spike, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Sure there is! I haven't told you what I had for breakfast this morning, or what the weather schedule for today is, or--"

"I didn't quite mean that, and ..." Celestia trailed off. She raised her head and looked towards the library.

Spike swallowed hard and started whistling.

"Spike," said Celestia in a more serious voice. "Has Twilight been practicing any unusual magic lately?"

Spike fidgeted. "What do you mean?"

"I thought for just a moment I caught a lingering resonance of dark magic."

Spike's eyes widened. "Dark magic? Here? Oh, now, that's silly! Oh, um, I didn't mean you're silly, Princess! I just--" He glanced past Celestia. "They're here!"

Celestia turned around as hoofsteps galloped towards her. "Princess! Sorry!" a winded Twilight said as she skidded to a halt. "Didn't know you were coming! Was busy in town!"

"Uh, same here!" said Starlight. She giggled nervously. "All that friendship lesson stuff just keeps us busy busy busy!"

Celestia smiled gently. "That's very good to hear, and it is part of my reason for this visit. Twilight, you are no doubt aware that there is still much work to be done concerning the changeling negotiations."

Twilight nodded and smiled. "Yes, and I'm looking forward to hearing more about it when you get back."

"Then you will be glad to hear that you will instead have first-hoof experience with it," said Celestia. "As I am requesting that you and Starlight go in my stead."

Starlight's mouth fell open. "Wh-what??"

Twilight chuckled. "Oh, thank you for this honor, but, well, isn't that more something for you to handle?"

"I can think of no better pony to conclude these negotiations than the Princess of Friendship and her faithful student," said Celestia. "I daresay you are even more qualified than me."

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

Celestia turned to her. "Did you have a comment, Starlight?"

"Uh, no, I'm good," Starlight said quickly.

"Celestia, while I would love to do this--" Twilight began.

"Can you deny this would be an excellent experience for your student?" asked Celestia.

"Well, no, but--"

"Then I think you would want to embrace this opportunity."

Twilight exchanged a look with Starlight. "How soon would we have to leave?" Twilight asked.

"In two days," said Celestia. "Given your skills at preparation, I am confident this is enough time for you to be ready. Do you have any further questions?"

"No," said Twilight in a subdued voice.

Celestia smiled and extended her wings. "Then I bid you good day." She flew up towards one of the open balconies and was gone. A few seconds later came the flash of teleportation magic.

Starlight frowned and turned to Twilight. "You know why she's doing this, don't you?"

"Yes," said Twilight with a heavy sigh. "She wants to renew the dark magic spell when I'm not around."

Spike gasped. "Y-you mean ... Princess Celestia did this?!"

"I can't see who else it could be."

"You're not really intending to go on this little trip, are you?" Starlight asked.

"Of course not," said Twilight. "But that means I now have only two days to find a way to break the spell." She shuddered. "Or to force a confrontation with Celestia."
> Chapter 9 - A Cause For Alarm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura bashed the button to silence her alarm clock and groaned. She yawned and let one arm dangle over the edge of the bed, only to frown when the sleeve of her nightgown got tangled in her fingers. She shook it free and lifted her hand to her head. She pulled a lock of hair into view. Still curly. Still orange.

She hated the prospect of looking in the mirror anymore. What other strangeness would she see? Was her skin going to change color? She held her hand before her eyes. It still appeared the same healthy hue it had the night before.

As she awoke more fully, she realized one bright spot on that Thursday morning: her tail bone no longer ached. Her relief lasted only as long as it took to roll onto her back, when something soft pressed into her buttocks.

Laura squirmed, thinking that her nightgown had bunched up, yet tugging on it did not help. "Fine, I'll just get up," she muttered.

She got out of bed and was about to take a step when she felt the bottom of her nightgown brush the tops of her feet. She dropped her arms to her sides, and the sleeves drifted past her wrists and partially covered her fingers.

"What the hell?" Laura muttered. She took a step, and again something soft brushed her posterior.

Laura's eyes widened. She reached a trembling hand behind her back, under the nightgown, and slid it under her panties. Her heart fell into her toes.

"Oh, God, no." Laura yanked her hand back and swallowed hard. "No, it has to be something else. It can't be what it ... i-it just can't!"

She raced out of her bedroom and barreled down the hallway. The door to the bathroom was closed, but this slowed her down only long enough for her to fling open the door.

"Ack!" Jenny cried from within the running shower. "What the fuck, Laura?! Get the hell out! Don't think you can make me hurry up, either, because ... wait, what are you doing?"

A stricken Laura had turned herself sideways to the mirror. She swallowed hard and lifted her nightgown up the back, then lowered the rear part of her panties. Four inches of curly orange hair lay in the harsh light of the bathroom.

Jenny frantically wiped her hand against the glass of the shower stall to clear the water and steam. "Holy shit, Laura, is that a tail?!"

That pushed Laura past her ability to cope. She yanked her panties back into place, dropped her face into her hands, and burst into tears.





Sarah paced the dining room as she tried for the third time to get through to Doctor Conner's office. She uttered a ragged sigh and clutched her hair, which had become thicker, longer, and more wavy overnight. She yanked the phone from her ear and frowned. "Still getting only voice mail."

"Why don't you just leave a message?" said Harold, his own hair almost completely blue save for some streaks around the ears and over his eyes. "They must be swamped."

"I guess I'm going to have to."

"And, really, we should be talking to Bob like we agreed last night."

Sarah whirled around. "Right now I'm more worried about Laura. I've never seen her so distraught in a long while."

Laura sat at the table nursing a cup of tea, still in her nightgown. "I'm really sorry for my meltdown earlier, Mom. I'm okay now."

Harold looked down. "Are you comfortable sitting down with, um ..."

"My tail?" Laura said in a sour voice. "The hair is soft and not very long." She frowned. "Yet."

"I got through!" Sarah cried. "Yes, hello, Heather, this is Mrs. Sarah Tanner. This is about my daughter, Laura. There's been another development. She ..." Sarah glanced at her daughter and swallowed hard. "Sh-she has a tail. A tail. Yes, as in hair sticking out of her rear." Sarah rolled her eyes. "No, dammit, I wouldn't be this upset if it was just hair sprouting anywhere back there. It. Is. A. Tail."

Laura groaned and lowered her head. Harold placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed just as Jenny started down the stairs. Her hair was pink in the back, and she hesitated at the bottom of the stairs when her mother spoke again.

"Her eye color also changed the day before. Is there any way Doctor Conner can squeeze her in today?" Sarah sighed. "Hang on." She dropped the phone to her side. "Heather said they're completely booked into next week. What the hell? When was the last time that happened?"

"During the flu outbreak, maybe?" Harold suggested.

"Oh, don't get started on that," Sarah declared.

Laura stood. "I'll just go to school. I can ... I can hide this in my jeans."

Sarah lifted the phone. "What about squeezing her in at the end of the day? I really don't like the idea of sending her to school with this ... this condition, but she could stop in after classes."

Harold stared. "Um, Laura? Could you stand up straight for a moment?"

Laura gave him a puzzled look. "Huh? I am standing straight. Why?"

Harold hesitated, then shook his head. "Never mind, I must be imagining things."

"She's gotten shorter," said Jenny.

Sarah turned her head. "She what? Um, what was that, Heather?" She gritted her teeth. "Yes, I'll hold."

Laura turned as her sister approached. Jenny stood up straight and held a hand flat over her head. She slid it forward, where it was level with Laura's eyes. "I think I was coming up to her nose before."

"That's ridiculous," Harold said. "People don't just shrink in height."

Bob came down the stairs. "They don't get tails, either."

Harold sighed. "Point made, sport."

Bob reached the bottom and averted his eyes. "Sorry."

Harold shook his head. "It's okay. Listen, I want to talk to you about something."

"Harry!" Sarah snapped. "You want to do this now?"

"Sarah, at this point, if we wait for a day when we don't have a crisis, we'll be waiting forever."

"But I wanted to be there when--" She snapped her gaze away when she came off hold. "Yes? My God, you don't know how glad I am to hear your voice, Doctor Conner."

"I am shorter, aren't I?" Laura said in a quavering voice. She let her arms fall to her sides. "See? My nightgown doesn't fit anymore."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Doctor Conner, she's ... shrunk. As in lost about an inch of height."

Laura glanced at Jenny. "Go ahead, already."

"Huh?" Jenny said. "Go ahead with what?"

"With whatever nonsense you're going to spout about the Fae Queen or whatever."

"It's fun poking you a bit," said Jenny in a subdued voice. "It's not fun seeing you cry."

Laura stared. "What ... I ... but I thought ...?"

Jenny looked perplexed. "Thought what?"

Laura shook her head. "Never mind, it's not important."

"Thank you," Sarah gushed. "Yes, that will work. We'll be expecting you." She turned to Harold. "His office actually doesn't open for another hour. He wants to see Laura, so he's going to make a house call. He'll be here in about twenty minutes."





"Shouldn't you be more worried about Laura than me?" said Bob as he stepped into Harold's office.

Harold closed the door behind them. "She's got her mother doting over her. You're just as much a member of this family as she is. You deserve as much concern."

Bob averted his gaze.

"Unless you don't believe that," said Harold gently.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

"I know what it was you heard the other night," said Harold.

Bob glanced at him but said nothing.

"You have every right to be angry with us."

"I do?" Bob asked in a dubious voice. "Weren't you just telling each other the truth?"

"Bob, it's more complicated than that."

"No, it isn't," Bob said. "A statement is either true or false."

"All right then," said Harold. "You want the truth? This family is hurting financially."

"I know," said Bob in a low voice. "I think the girls know, too, but they just don't want to think about it too hard, and they have their own problems now."

"And what Sarah and I said to each other--" Harold paused and rubbed the back of his neck. He frowned as he found his own hair had grown longer as well. "--we didn't mean it in the way it was intended. We sometimes have a bad habit of saying dumb things to each other in the heat of the moment."

Bob uttered an exasperated sigh. "Fine." He marched for the door. "Can I go now?"

"Not yet."

Bob stopped and turned around. "Why not?"

Harold stepped up to him. "Because I don't think you understand."

"I do understand," Bob said. "You implied I was the cause of your financial mess, but that's not what you really meant. I get it."

Harold stared at Bob for a moment. "Something else is going on, isn't there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bob, why did you start calling me 'Dad'?"

Bob stared. "Are you serious?"

"Humor me, please."

"Well ... I'm supposed to. I mean ... you like it when I call you that, right?"

Harold smiled. "Yes, I do. I was happy when you started calling me that a few years ago."

Bob nodded. "Well, see?"

"But did you really mean it?"

Bob looked askance at him. "I'm sorry?"

"You didn't have to call me that," Harold said. "I would've been content with you continuing to refer to me as Uncle Harry. What you call me doesn't change how I feel about you."

Bob averted his eyes and drew in his arms.

"Let me ask the question this way," said Harold. "Did you do it because you knew it would please me?"

Bob hesitated. "Yes."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "You didn't have to do that."

"I felt I did."

"Why?"

"I didn't want you to be disappointed."

Harold tilted his head. "Disappointed?"

Bob finally looked him in the eye. "Look, um ... I really do appreciate everything you and Aunt Sarah have done for me. You don't have anything to prove to me."

Harold hesitated before replying, "Who said that I ever did?"

Bob paused and glanced at the desk where the returned letter sat. "Maybe you don't," he said in a low voice. "Forget I said that. Can we talk about this more some other time? Right now, I just want to get to school before I'm late."

Harold nodded, paused, then pulled Bob into a brief hug before letting him go. "All right."

Bob gave him a weak smile in return before heading out. 





"Laura, you're going to feel a tug," said Kevin as he grasped some of the hairs of Laura's tail. "Tell me if this hurts at all."

Laura stood with her back to the doctor, blushing slightly as she held the bottom part of her panties down so that Kevin could better see. She glanced at her mother, who gave her an encouraging look. "All right."

Kevin pulled gently on the hairs.

"No pain," said Laura. "But, well, they're pretty firmly attached, if that's what you were looking for."

"Yes, I can see that." Kevin pressed his fingers against a spot right above where the hairs emerged. "Do you feel any pain here?"

"I did," said Laura. "All day yesterday, it ached right there, but not now."

"And you didn't tell me?" asked Sarah.

Laura sighed. "I didn't think this would happen. I was planning on going to Doctor Conner if it didn't go away."

Kevin drew back and took another look at the tail as a whole. It emerged from the end of the very structure that once hosted such a thing in the distant evolutionary past. He grabbed a ruler from his bag and measured. "It's about five inches long."

"I was sure it was four inches when I first saw it," Laura said.

"But how could it have grown that much in just a half hour?" Sarah said. "Or for that matter, how could that much hair sprout overnight to begin with?"

"Your hair did the same thing, Mom," Laura said. "It wasn't nearly as long last night."

Kevin put his ruler away. "Laura, you can dress now."

Laura yanked her panties up as Kevin stood. She slipped on her nightgown and turned to face him. "Should I try to cut the hair off?"

"Since it appears to be comprised of only hair, it wouldn't hurt you to do so," said Kevin. "But if it is indeed growing that fast, I have a feeling it will just come back." He took out a small flashlight. "Let me take a look at your eyes."

Laura stood still as he flicked the light into her eyes to test her pupil response. He had her look to one side and the other. "I'm not seeing any evidence of infection. Any itching or burning? Discharge? Blurred vision?"

"They itched a bit the night before they changed color," said Laura. "But that stopped, and I don't have any of the other symptoms."

He drew back and slipped off his glasses. "I'm going to be honest here. I don't have any answers for you right now. This doesn't match any known pattern of symptoms. Yes, there are known afflictions that can lead to eye color changes, but you have none of the other symptoms associated with them. There are also conditions that cause overgrowth of body hair, but nothing like this."

"And my height?" Laura asked.

"That's a mystery to me as well."

Sarah stepped up to him, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. "Doctor, normally I appreciate your honesty, but I'm getting a little scared right now."

"You're scared?" Laura said. "It's like I'm turning into something, but I don't know what!"

"Normally, I would consider admitting you to the hospital," said Kevin. "But I talked to them on the way over here. They're as much in the dark about this as well, and they're so swamped right now that it's emergencies only." Kevin turned to Laura. "Do you have any other symptoms?"

"I have a slight buzzing in my ears." She twisted her torso a bit. "And my upper back aches a bit."

Kevin dropped his bag on the edge of the bed and took out his ear scope. "The ache may be from your loss of height. How long have you had the tinnitus?"

She turned her head to give her access to her ear. "It just started this morning."

"Any discharge or dizziness?"

"No, none."

Kevin checked one ear, than the other. "Everything looks normal."

"But they don't feel normal! Something is going to happen to them next, isn't it?"

"I'm sensing that you believe it will," said Kevin. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Laura swallowed hard, her eyes flicking first to her mother, then back to Kevin. "It's going to sound stupid."

"Laura, whatever it is, I insist you tell him," Sarah declared. "Please, if he really is flying blind, he can use all the help he can get."

Laura nodded quickly. "It's something Jenny told me. My little sister and her friend trespassed on old man ... er, Fred Turner's property. Jenny said she saw him." Laura's voice quavered. "She said he wasn't all that tall, and had peach-colored hair."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"But what's really weirding me out is what she said about his ears. She thought he was wearing some sort of a-animal ears on top of his head."

"What do you mean?" Sarah said.

"Just what I said!" Laura exclaimed. "Jenny was sure it was some sort of costume. That's what I wanted to believe, too, but now I got this stupid tail. What if Turner's ears were real? What if that's going to happen to me next?"

"All right, let's not panic," said Kevin in a firm voice. "Is Jenny still here?"

"No, I sent her off to school," said Sarah.

"Laura, do you know how good a look she had at him?" asked Kevin.

"Not really. They were running at the time," said Laura.

"The worst thing we can do right now is jump to conclusions," said Kevin. "If it helps any, Fred Turner's daughter is on her way and will arrive sometime today. She's intending to bring him in to see me tomorrow. I'll have a first-hand look at him."

"Can you let us know what you find out?" asked Sarah.

Kevin was normally bound by patient privacy laws, but this was a most abnormal situation. "Let me see what I can do. I also intend to contact the Colorado Department of Health as soon as I get back to my office. Mrs. Tanner, you can help me in that endeavor by telling me when each of you in your family came down with the flu and when the first odd symptoms showed up."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Do you really think the flu did this?"

"It's a working theory at the moment," said Kevin. "I had only just finished correlating the data for my other patients late last night."

"All right, let me go get paper and a pen to jot it down for you," said Sarah as she headed for the door.

Laura turned to Kevin. "There's one more thing. I think Fred Turner had the flu before any of us."

Kevin gave her an inquisitive look. "Why do you say that?"

"It was about three weeks ago when he showed up in a grocery store looking really sick," said Laura. "I thought I had stayed far enough away from him, but I came down with the flu days later. I know of at least a few other people who got it right after me."

"Thank you, Laura," said Kevin. "That is likely the most useful bit of information I have received thus far."





Jenny burst out of the school bus, but her initial attempt at running nearly ended in a spill to the ground. The several inches of wet spring snow that had fallen overnight had been packed down to ice by both wheel and foot. She muttered a curse as she picked her way across the lot, then belted out at the top of her lungs, "JAMES, WAIT UP!"

At the foot of the stairs leading up to the entrance of the school, James spun around. Like many other students, he had given up trying to hide his discolored hair. "Jenny, I'm going to be late for class!"

"I really really need to talk to you," said Jenny. "This is urgent."

James sighed. "If this is about your latest story--"

Jenny ran the rest of the way. She yelped as her right foot slid out from under her when she tried to stop. James grabbed her arms and prevented a fall. "No, it has nothing to do with that." She glanced at his hands. "Um, thanks."

"Sure thing," said James with a small smile.

"You can let go of me now."

James cleared his throat and dropped his hands. "Right."

Jenny smiled faintly, but it vanished as she stared at his face. "Your eyes!"

"Yeah, I know," James said in a low voice. What had once been dark brown were now cobalt blue.

Jenny slowly smiled. "If it helps any, it sorta goes with the hair."

James rolled his eyes but smirked. "Thanks. Yeah, it was this way when I woke up."

Jenny clutched the strap of her satchel tighter. "Then I definitely need to talk to you. I want to, well, warn you, I guess."

"Warn me? About what?"

"My sister. She has a tail."

James stared. "No way."

"I saw it myself. It's just as curly and orange as the hair on her head. When I left the house, the doctor was on his way." Jenny paused. "And it happened a day after her eyes changed color."

"What, you mean I'm going to get one next?" James said.

"I-I don't know. All I know is what happened to Laura, but it's happening to you, too, in the same sequence. I mean, look!" She spun around. "Look at my hair. It's halfway to total pinkdom." She whirled around to face him again. "You're not the only one this is happening to."

"Jenny?" James said in a wary voice. "Do you remember what you told me about Turner when you looked at him?"

Jenny bit her lip. "Yeah?"

"What if ... what if those ears you said he had were--"

"No way," Jenny declared. "It had to be a costume."

"But what if it isn't?"

Jenny took a deep breath. "Look, the colored hair and eyes, I can roll with. Even if I get a damned tail, I could have some fun with it. But the ears? That's just too out there even for me. Especially considering what they reminded me of."

"Of what?"

Jenny hesitated. "They kinda looked like horse ears."

> Chapter 10 - A Sun Rises And Sets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight's hooves echo slightly as they trod upon the silent streets of Ponyville. She smiles as she lifts her head and gazes at the stars that sparkle like diamonds on velvet in the night sky. The moon casts a beautiful silvery radiance, softly illuminating her path. She loves nights like this, with just a hint of a cool breeze and the gentle quiet.

In the distance, a large tree appears. When she sees the lights which glow from it, she realizes with delight that it is no mere tree.

"It's my old library!" Twilight gallops to it like a foal on Hearths Warming Eve towards the waiting presents. With a broad smile, she opens the door with a nudge of magic and steps inside. Everything is exactly as it was before Tirek destroyed it.

"I wonder how this happened," Twilight says in wonder. "It even has all the books I remember. I can't wait to tell Spike!"

She starts to pull a book from a shelf when she hears a slide of hoof across wood. "Oh! Somepony is here."

Twilight steps towards one of the reading nooks that surround the main room. She trots around a corner and stops short with a small gasp.

Princess Luna looks up from her book and smiles. "Good evening, Twilight."

"I'm so happy that you're the first one to find the library," Twilight gushes. "Isn't this wonderful! Can you tell me how this happened?"

Luna sets aside the book and stands. "I can. This is a dream, Twilight."

Twilight's smile fades. "Oh." She looks around. "Well, that's too bad. At least it's a pleasant dream."

Luna approachers her. "Please, Twilight, would you walk with me?"

"Of course."

"I admit, I conjured this dream on purpose," says Luna as they step into the night. "I wished a calm atmosphere in which to confer with you since I didn't receive any further word from you after my note."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to take the chance Celestia would intercept it."

Luna lowers her head. "It is terrible that is has come to this, that we must engage in such subterfuge against one who has been nothing but a benevolent ruler towards her ponies."

"I know," Twilight says. "But I'm holding out hope that she has a very good reason for what she did, even if ..." She swallows. "Even if I could easily hate her for what she's done."

Luna raises her gaze to Twilight's. "What has she done to earn such enmity from even you?"

Twilight frowns. "She made somepony from my family disappear not only from history, but from ponies' minds."

Luna stares in shock. "Is ... is that even possible?"

"It is when you use dark magic."

"This is one time, Twilight, where I hope you are dead wrong."

"I wish I were," says Twilight. "I touched the dark magic spell myself, Luna. It's imbued into the pages of her journal. She corrupted even her own DIARY to hide this!"

Luna is silent for a few moments, "Do you have any idea what this pony could have done to warrant such treatment?"

"I have no idea," says Twilight. "All I have is a name: Sunset Shimmer."

Luna abruptly stops and turns towards Twilight. "That name ... are you sure?"

Twilight's eyes widen. "Yes! Have you heard it? Oh, please tell me you have!"

"I have," Luna says in a soft voice, her eyes glistening. "In your grandparents' dreams."

"Sunset Glow and Shimmering Light?"

"Yes."

"Those are the ponies I theorized are her parents!"

"I am curious," says Luna. "What led you in that direction? True, Canterlot traditions as they are would suggest they could name a foal as such, but Equestria is a big place."

"Yes, I know," says Twilight in a low voice. "In retrospect, it seems odd I would jump right to that conclusion. But if the spell was weakened by my prodding, perhaps that was some of my own suppressed memories finding a way to slip out. But, please, Luna, tell me of their dreams if you can."

Luna lowers her gaze. "Their dreams are ... so very sad."

"Well, of course! If they've been made to forget that--"

"No," says Luna. "For the daughter they WISHED they had."

Twilight shivers. "Then this affects their dreams as well."

"My sister would not banish a pony to obscurity unless she believed that pony did something heinous. Forgive me for the implied disparagement of a family member, Twilight."

"It's fine," Twilight says. "You're not saying anything I haven't already thought of."

"If this is true, then your grandparents could instead be dreaming of how they wished their daughter had turned out. Every dream starts off so very happy, with their precious Sunset making them very proud. She goes off to seek her final fortune, and then ..." Luna takes a deep breath. "They are informed she is dead."

"Of what?"

"It is never revealed. In their wailing sorrow, they realize they have been fooling themselves, and they never really had a daughter. Even I cannot comfort them."

Twilight's mind races. "Luna, you can connect dreams, right?"

"Yes, I can. Why do you ask?"

"If either of them starts dreaming tonight, can you link me into it?"

Luna's eyes widen. "Twilight, I must insist on knowing what you intend to do."

"This dark magic spell is too complex for me to break in one go," says Twilight. "I have to weaken it. I already managed it by making my father briefly remember he really had a sister. If I can get her parents resisting it, too--"

Luna frowns. "What you intend to do, Twilight Sparkle, is very dangerous. If there is any chance you're wrong, you could traumatize them, make them believe things that are not true."

Twilight takes a deep breath. "Nothing is safe about this, Luna, no matter what route I take to fight it."

Luna pauses a moment before saying, "All right, I will do it."





A pale red unicorn mare with a dark orange mane turns from the stove, a pan of eggs held in her magical grip. "Sunset, dear! Come down to breakfast."

"In a minute, Mommy!" comes a cry from upstairs. "I almost got this spell working!"

Sunset Glow sighs but smiles and shakes her head. At the table, a blue unicorn stallion with a dark cyan mane lowers his newspaper and chuckles. "Oh, she's your daughter through and through, you know," says Shimmering Light.

Glow sticks her tongue out at her husband before calling out again, "That's nice, Sunset, but you don't want your eggs to get cold, do you?"

"Oh, all right," says the voice in defeat.

Just outside the perception of the family gathering, Luna and Twilight approach. "The dream has already started," says Luna. "My apologies for not linking you in sooner, but all you missed was Sunset's birth."

"It's all right." Twilight looks towards the table again and jabs a hoof. "Look! Sitting at the other side of the table!"

A light blue unicorn colt, about ten years old, hums to himself and uses his magic to draw on a piece of paper.

"That's my father," says Twilight. She giggles. "I have to admit, he does look adorable as a foal."

Luna smiles.

The next moment, a yellow-and-red bundle of energy with hooves and a horn comes barreling into the room. The little yellow five-year-old unicorn filly skids to an ungainly stop, her red and yellow mane flopping over an eye. "Mommy! Mommy! I'm soooo close! I'm gonna have this spell done in no time after breakfast."

Twilight stares. "That must be her ..."

Glow smiles. "You mean after school."

Sunset Shimmer pouts and drops to her haunches. She tries to blow her mane out of her eyes, but it just falls back again. "Aw, do I hafta? I wanna finish this spell!"

"Wow," Twilight breathes. "She's so young, and she can already craft spells?"

Luna chuckles. "I seem to recall Celestia telling me of a certain filly who was quite accomplished as well at an early age."

Twilight blushes. "Well, I suppose this just proves it runs in the family."

"Now, sit down, Sunset, so I can serve breakfast," says Glow.

Sunset smirks. "But I am sitting."

"You know what I mean, dear," Glow says in a patient voice.

Night Light looks up. "Yeah, Sunny, I wanna eat, too, I'm starved."

Twilight's eyes widen. "My father ... she called her Sunny ..."

Shimmering sets aside his paper and smiles as Sunset hops into her chair. "And how's my little princess this morning?"

Sunset giggles. "Daddy, stop being silly! Princesses have a horn AND wings!"

Night readies a blank page in his art notebook. "I'll draw ya some wings, Sunny. You'll be a princess in no time!"

"Breakfast first, wings later," Glow says gently as she serves breakfast.

"Make 'em biiig wings!" Sunset says. "Like Princess Celestia's wings!"

Shimmering grins and taps his chin with a hoof. "Hmm, not sure if you should do that. Might get in trouble. Princess Celestia always has the Royal Guard out looking for Celestia-impersonators."

Night's pupils shrink. "R-really?"

Sunset laughs. "Oh, Nighty, you're so gullible sometimes!"

Night blushes.

"Now, honey, be nice to your brother," says Glow.

The scene wavers and dissolves, and Luna and Twilight now find themselves looking into what appears to be a magic lab. Yet when Twilight looks around, she sees a window high on one wall, and a furnace tucked in the back. Her eyes widen as she sees a now ten year old Sunset standing before a set of glass tubes, vials, and flasks arranged in one large array.

"She had her own LAB?!" Twilight cries. "In her HOUSE?! Even I never had that!"

"Now, please observe," says Sunset, her muzzle elevated, looking as if she is already an instructor teaching a class. She does indeed have an audience, namely her parents. "I am about to complete the experiment I have been working on for the last four months."

Glow smiles. "I'm really excited about this, Sunset."

"We both are!" says Shimmering. "Please, do go ahead."

Sunset beams at the praise and begins opening valves with her magic, letting chemicals flow into each other. They pass over magical flames of different colors burning at specific locations along the fluids' paths, then through crystals that alternately compress and expand the fluids, which glow more intensely as they traverse their circuitous path.

Twilight blinks. "I have no idea what she's doing."

"Realize that if these are indeed memories as you theorize," says Luna. "Her parents might not have the technical details right."

"But still, I should have some idea what she's trying to accomplish."

The chemicals come together in a glass sphere at the top of the array. Sunset casually turns to it as they start to froth and roil. "And now, the spell to finish it!"

Sunset's horn blazes. The beam strikes the sphere, and the chemicals within seem almost to fold in on themselves before exploding into a blinding light. The glass shatters, but this is expected, given how quickly and casually Sunset raises a shield to protect her and her parents. The light remains suspended in the air like a miniature sun, yellow and red energy roiling within.

"This can't be right," says Twilight. "It looks like she just created some sort of dense magical plasma, the same kind that's theorized to make the sun glow!"

"This is why I always assumed these were dreams of a daughter who never was," Luna says.

"But if this is true, this is a breakthrough!" Twilight cries. "She found a way to actually generate magical plasma by concentrating energy at a single point! There are SO many applications for--!"

"Oh, Sunset, I'm so proud of you!" Glow suddenly cries.

"Great Celestia, this is wonderful!" Shimmering declares.

Sunset's smile becomes a touch smug. "Yes, I know, this is such an accomplishment."

Glow's eyes fill with tears. "I don't mean that!"

"Sunny, l-look at your flank!" says Shimmering.

Sunset's eyes widen, and she cranes her neck. There upon her flank is the symbol of a yellow and red sun, looking very much like her creation.

Her parents surge forward and hug Sunset tightly. Sunset hugs them back, her smile now a mixture of happiness and self-satisfaction, even as the light from her miniature sun starts to fade.

"She got her cutie mark in a similar way I did, by doing a feat of magic," Twilight says in a quavering voice. "We would've had so much in common."

The scene again shifts. Sunset is in her room, packing, a smile gracing her muzzle. She is twelve or thirteen, her horn glowing as she moves her things about with practiced ease. She turns her head as hoofsteps stop at her door. Her smile widens. "Nighty! You're here!"

Night Light stands at the door, smiling broadly. "Think I would miss giving my sis a send-off?"

Sunset gives him a hug as he steps into the room. Behind him stand their parents who are smiling as well, but Glow's eyes mist. She lets out a quavering breath. "I'm really going to miss you, Sunset."

Sunset smiles at her. "Aw, come on, Mom, I'm still going to be in Canterlot."

"Yes, but you'll be in the palace. I'm not sure--"

Night chuckles. "You don't seriously think Princess Celestia is going to keep us all away from Sunny? I mean, she's the Princess' student, not a prisoner."

"WHAT?!" Twilight explodes. "Sunset Shimmer was Celestia's STUDENT?!"

"Yes, I know," says Luna. "This makes your revelations all the more troubling."

"Celestia had a student this incredibly talented, and she wiped all memory of her? This makes no sense!"

"Are you just about packed?" Shimmering says. "I know it's not far to the palace, but we wanted to trot over there with you."

Sunset places the last items into her saddlebags and is about to close them when she smiles at Night. "I have one more thing to pack." She turns her head towards a dresser and opens a drawer with her magic. She levitates out a set of paper wings.

Night gasps. "Those are the wings I made for you when you were little."

Sunset smiles and turns back towards him. She lays them carefully on her back. "They, um, don't quite fit as much as they used to but--"

Her words are cut off when Night hugs her fiercely. "I c-can't believe you kept them all this time," he says in a shaky voice.

Sunset rolls her eyes but chuckles. "Now don't get all sappy on me, Night."

"I'm your brother, I'll get as sappy as I please, Sunny."

"Th-that's my Dad all right," Twilight says. "H-he said the same thing to me on my send-off. 'I'll get as sappy as I please, Twily.'"

Sunset smiles as she draws back from the embrace. She levitates the wings carefully from her back and delicately folds them. "Who knows? Maybe they'll serve as inspiration." She tucks them into a notebook and closes her bags before levitating them onto her barrel. "I'm ready."

"Good luck, Sunset," says Glow.

"We're so very proud of you," says Shimmering.

"Just try not to burn down the palace, okay?" says Night.

Sunset smirks. "I'll do my best, but no promises."

The scene starts to fade as the family shares one last hug. "If this proceeds as it normally does, there will be one more scene before the end," Luna says in a solemn voice.

They peer into a room that Twilight knows all too well. It is the very same room where she and Celestia shared so many meals together, sometimes with Twilight's family in attendance. Despite containing the trappings of royalty, the room has a casual atmosphere that made Twilight feel more comfortable in her mentor's presence.

Twilight gazes upon a pony who seems to need no such solace. Sunset Shimmer, now at least 18 years old, radiates a confidence in the presence of Celestia that Twilight could have only hoped for.

Next to Sunset, Celestia gazes across the table and smiles fondly at Sunset's family. "It is always an honor to host my student's family. Thank you for coming."

"Really, Princess, it's we who are honored," says Shimmering.

Glow smiles. "We're just so happy to see Sunset flourishing so well here."

Celestia's smile widens. "You have every reason to be proud of your daughter. She has not only been one of my most capable students, she has grown into a confident young mare."

Celestia had said the very same thing about Twilight once, and Twilight had demurred furiously. Instead, Sunset remains quiet and drinks in the praise, her smile widening a touch. In every way, Sunset is the perfect daughter: smart, strong, confident, and with virtually limitless possibilities lying at her hooves.

"But may I ask where Night Light is?" says Celestia.

"Oh, well, he's, ah, otherwise occupied, Princess," says Shimmering.

Sunset leans over to Celestia. "That means he's off making puppy dog eyes at his marefriend Twilight Velvet."

"Sunset!" Glow cries, blushing.

"Well, it's true," says Sunset.

"Yes, but ... a little discretion, dear," says Shimmering.

Celestia laughs, and Twilight adds another attribute to the perfect daughter: witty.

Luna steps alongside Twilight. "Prepare yourself. The mood is about to change abruptly."

Suddenly, the scene morphs. Celestia, Glow, and Shimmering seem not to move while the world around them becomes so shockingly different that Twilight gasps. They stand inside Glow and Shimmering's home, but Sunset is nowhere to be seen. It is nighttime, and rain pounds against the windows. The lights are on but illuminate only a short radius from their flickering flames. Glow and Shimmering are stricken, staring at Celestia, who stands in the door with rain running off her body.

"It can't be," Glow says, tears trickling down her face. "No ... n-not Sunset ..."

"Please, Princess!" Shimmering wails. "Please tell us you're mistaken!"

Celestia looks on with glistening eyes that seem to be on the verge of tears themselves. "I wish it were not true."

"OUR DAUGHTER CAN'T BE DEAD!" Glow screams.

Twilight swallows hard, letting out her breath as a ragged sigh. She remembers the fight with Tirek, the one and only enemy to whom she truly worried she could lose her life. The very idea of Celestia having to go to her parents and give them this horrible news ...

Celestia squeezes her eyes shut and turns away. "I am very sorry. More than you will ever know."

Luna steps forward. "Get ready, Twilight," she says as her eyes start to glow.

Twilight almost doesn't hear her. She feels as if her own heart has been gutted just as badly as those of Sunset's parents, who now huddle together and weep openly after Celestia leaves.

"Sh-shimmering ..." Glow says in a choked voice. "This can't be happening."

"Y-you heard the Princess," Shimmering says as he wipes his eyes with the back of a hoof. "She's gone. Oh, heavens, she's gone! What are we ever going to tell Night?!"

"Sunset Glow is the first to deny this tragedy," Luna says as she slides a hoof forward. Her horn and eyes blaze as she lifts her hoof, opening a tear before her. "This is her dream."

Glow bolts to her hooves. "NO! I won't accept this! I ... no, this is not real."

Shimmering looks up and tries to blink away tears. "What are you talking about?"

Luna opens the tear fully. "Go, Twilight!"

Twilight surges forward.

"We never had a daughter!" Glow cries. "We tried and tried and tried and never--"

"You're wrong!" Twilight shouts.

Glow whirls around and nearly falls off her hooves in shock. Shimmering is swallowed up by the darkness and vanishes. "Who--?? What are ... w-wait ... Twilight?"

"Yes, it's me, your granddaughter," says Twilight.

"But what are you doing here?"

"Trying to uncover the truth," says Twilight. "And the truth is that you had a daughter named Sunset Shimmer!"

Glow shakes her head, tears flowing again. "No, I-I didn't ... I couldn't have!"

Twilight sighs. "I know, losing her was hard, but--"

"I can't lose what I never had!" Glow wails.

"--but what if she may still be alive somewhere?!"

Twilight has no idea if this is true. She feels sick for even giving such potentially false hope, but she needs every weapon in her arsenal to fight this dark magic.

Glow stares at Twilight for a long moment. "But ... Princess Celestia said ... she wouldn't lie to us. Why would she lie to us?"

"Twilight, hurry!" Luna says. "I sense the dream coming to an end!"

"I don't have time to explain," Twilight says. "You have to fight this! You--"

"Why did she lie to us?!" Glow demands.

"Please! Listen to me! You've been made to forget! You have to hold on to--!"

"WHY DID SUNSET LIE TO US?!"

"I don't--" Twilight stares, eyes wide. "Wh-what did you just say?? What do you mean? What did Sunset--"

Glow and the house vanish. Twilight stands upon a starry expanse in a dark blue sky. "What happened?"

Luna sighs and steps forward. "She has woken up from her dream."

Twilight falls back on her haunches and hangs her head. "Likely crying or screaming."

"That is the chance we take when we attempt to manipulate dreams, Twilight," says Luna in a heavy voice.

"I'm so sorry for her," says Twilight. "But I'm not sorry I did it. I think I got through to her, Luna. Something really bad happened concerning Sunset Shimmer." She draws herself up and turns to face Luna. "And I'm going to find out what it is."

"In the end, I hope Celestia will be grateful."

Twilight frowns. "I'm not doing this for her. I'm doing it for Sunset. I don't care what she did, she doesn't deserve to be forgotten."





Sunset Glow stared morosely at her tea cup, the contents of which had gone cold some time ago. Her mane was an unkempt mess, and the skin under her eyes sagged. She propped her head up with a fore-hoof.

From across the table, Shimmering Light gave her a troubled look. He had no idea what to say. They had resigned themselves to this occasional repeating nightmare, as it proceeded with such regularity that they had inured themselves to it. That uneasy acceptance had been shattered in the middle of the night.

"Dear?" Shimmering finally prompted in a soft voice.

Glow heaved a sigh. "What is it?" she said without raising her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it some more?"

Glow leveled her gaze at her husband. "What more is there to say, Shimmy?"

"What about Twilight Sparkle?"

Glow frowned. "What about her?"

"What if she really was in your dream?"

Glow stared as if he had grown a second horn. "What?"

Shimmering glanced to the side. "Well, I just thought--"

"How can you even suggest that?!" Glow exploded. "Do you know what that means?!"

Shimmering swallowed and met his wife's eyes. "That we really do have a daughter."

"Did," Glow said. "Did have a daughter. Except we never did. Both can't be true at the same time."

"But what if--?"

Glow thumped her hoof on the table, knocking over her teacup and spilling cold tea. "Do you really want to believe we sired a daughter who's dead? The disappointment over never conceiving one in the first place was bad enough, you want to make it worse!"

"You told me yourself Twilight said she could still be alive," said Shimmering.

Glow's turned her head to grab a cleaning cloth with her magic. She started mopping up the mess. "An image in my head of Twilight said that, Shimmy," said Glow in a softer voice. "It was just my own wishful thinking. We agreed from the start that was the cause of these stupid dreams. We accepted a long time ago that we would never have another foal. Why do you want to dredge this up again?"

Shimmering usually deferred to his wife when she was this adamant. Instead, he rubbed his mane with a hoof and turned to Glow again. "I'm really sorry, dear, it's just something about this feels off somehow."

Glow tilted her head as she set the cloth aside. "What do you mean?"

"Well, haven't you ever questioned why that dream was so predictable? Why it never varied?"

"That's not for us to ponder. That's ... that's for somepony like Princess Luna to--"

"Except she never did!" Shimmering said. "She was never able to alter it. She's supposed to help ponies with their nightmares. Why was she never able to help us?"

Glow uttered an exasperated sigh. "I really don't want to hear this. I just want to forget this ever--"

The doorbell chimed.

Glow groaned and lowered her head. "Will you get that, please? I must look a fright."

Shimmering smiled faintly and hopped off his chair. He gave his wife a kiss on the head before heading out of the room.

Glow shivered as she recalled how she had abruptly awoken from that dream, calling out the name of a pony who should not exist, despairing not just for her passing but what she had done, even if she could not remember what it had been.

She heard her husband express surprise, then heard muffled conversation. Her ears perked up when she realized who Shimmering was talking to. "Nighty??"

A weary Night Light slowly trudged into the kitchen, his tail tucked between his hind legs, his ears drooping. He gave Glow a faint smile. "H-hi, Mom."

"As glad as I am to see you, what are you doing here this early?" said Glow.

Night looked uncertain, and he glanced at his father.

"Go on, son," said Shimmering. "Tell her."

Glow's eyes widened. "Tell me what?" she said in a wary voice.

"I, um, I've come to talk to you about something." He took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. "About Sunny."

Glow's lower lip trembled.

"You see, yesterday, um, my daughter Twilight came to visit me, along with her friend Starlight Glimmer."

Glow swallowed hard, her eyes glistening.

"She said ... she insisted ... that Sunny m-may be real. That I really had a sister. That--" Night raised his head and gasped. "Mom! You okay?"

Glow had squeezed her eyes shut, and tears dripped to the table. Shimmering rushed to her side and threw a fore-leg around her, drawing her close.

"Mom, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," said Night.

Glow shook her head and took a deep breath before opening her eyes. "No, Nighty, don't apologize. Your mother is just a foolish old mare sometimes. Shimmy, please, get me a tissue. I don't trust my magic to remain steady."

"Sure thing, dear," said Shimmering as he parted from her.

"You are not a foolish old mare, Mom," Night said softly as he took a seat at the table. "But I do want to know what happened that has you so upset."

"Let's just say I had a dream about ... a-about Sunny, and Twilight was in it." She paused a long moment. "As in I think she visited me."

Night nodded. "In the middle of her visit with us, she received a personal letter from Princess Luna. They must be working together. And if that's the case, Mom, we really need to talk."

Glow nodded as Shimmering returned with some tissues which he gently placed beside her. "Yes, we do."





An uneasy silence settled over the Council Room after Twilight finished her explanation of what had happened over the past few days. Applejack was the first to break the silence. "I jus' don't get it. This ain't like Princess Celestia at all."

Rainbow Dash dropped her fore-hooves to the table. "That's what I think! Twilight, you sure she isn't having her head messed up by that spell you said Starlight found in her diary?"

Twilight sighed. "I wish that were the case, Rainbow, but all signs point to Celestia being the one who cast it."

"But, dear, the dark magic!" said Rarity. "Surely she could not have--"

"She's the only one who was capable of it at the time," said Twilight. "The only pony in all of Equestria who had the ability to channel this much power."

"I don't like this," said Fluttershy. "It means anypony who forgot Sunset Shimmer has been touched by the same dark magic."

Twilight frowned. "I know. That includes my grandparents, my parents, my brother, Cadance, even me!" She left her chair and turned to Starlight. "Get the book, please."

Starlight nodded and cantered towards the door.

Pinkie smiled. "If it helps any, Twilight, you don't seem all dark and icky like Sombra was."

Twilight smiled faintly. "It doesn't quite work that way, but, thank you."

"Ya mean ya don't have no actual dark magic in yer head?" asked Applejack.

"Not quite. I would've sensed that a long time ago if that were the case."

"Well, that's a relief."

"I don't get it," said Rainbow. "Then how did it wipe your memories of Sunset Shimmer?"

Starlight returned, Celestia's diary held in her magic.

"Hold it over the center of the table, please," said Twilight.

"Well, sure," said Starlight. "But what are you going to do?"

"I'll show you in a moment." She turned to Rainbow. "It's very clever how it works. I figured it out this morning. The dark magic spell is anchored to several of Celestia's journals, the ones that chronicle Sunset's time as her student. The effect radiates from there into all documents containing any information on Sunset, and into the minds of anypony who once knew her. So only the effect winds up in ponies' heads and not the dark magic itself. It had to be done that way or the presence of the dark magic in a pony's mind risks corrupting it over time."

Rainbow frowned and folded her fore-legs. "I still don't like the idea of using dark magic to mess with somepony's head."

Twilight approached the table. "Nor do I." Her horn glowed, and where an even crystal surface had been before, a map of the world shimmered into existence as the Cutie Map activated. "This spell needs to be destroyed, but first I need to know how far its effect extends."

Starlight stepped forward, her horn still glowing as she kept the book steadily floating roughly above Canterlot on the map. "How are you going to do that?"

"With a spell I crafted to briefly interface the book with the map."

Pinkie gasped. "But isn't that going to let the icky dark thingies into the map?"

"No, this will largely be only a projection," said Twilight. "Also, right now the spell is straining to keep working properly and doesn't have enough energy to corrupt the map."

Starlight smiled. "You mean your visit to your grandmother's dream worked?"

"I wasn't sure until my father sent me a brief letter just a short time ago," said Twilight. "It's like he and Grandma Glow are starting to remember. They're just shadows of memories right now, but it means the spell has weakened."

"Um, Twilight?" Fluttershy asked tentatively. "A-are you going to need us to help break this spell? Because I'm not sure how we can."

"Darling, I'm afraid I must echo Fluttershy's concerns," said Rarity. "As much as I want to help, this is out of my league."

"No, it isn't!" said Rainbow. "Not if we go all Rainbow Power on somepony's flank!"

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Ya do realize that the flank in question would be Princess Celestia's, right?"

"Not to mention how big her flanks are if she eats as much cake as I hear she does," piped Pinkie.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Let's not worry about those details yet. Now, please, let me concentrate."

Starlight backed up a step as Twilight closed her eyes. When she reopened them after a few seconds, they glowed brilliant green, and dark ichor bubbled over her horn.

Pinkie's eyes widened. "O-kay, now she looks an eensy bit dark and icky."

A collective gasp arose as a black beam of energy erupted from Twilight's horn and enveloped the book. Starlight shivered hard as a sudden deep chill radiated back up the flow of her magic and into her body. For a brief moment, she was sure her blood would freeze solid.

A rivulet of black ichor oozed down from the book and touched the map. It concentrated in a dense blob around Canterlot before tendrils shot out and dotted other towns and cities across Equestria.

"What's goin' on?" Applejack asked.

"I think it's showing where those affected by the spell are right now," said Starlight in a slightly shaky voice. She pointed a hoof. "See? Most are in Canterlot, but some moved away to other--"

"What the hay?!" Rainbow cried. She jabbed a hoof towards a far edge of the map. "Look over there!"

"Oo, let's see!" said Pinkie as she jumped up onto the map.

Rarity's eyes widened. "Pinkie, dear, perhaps that's not the best idea!"

Yet as she trotted across the map, Pinkie unerringly stepped around the globs of ichor until she reached the spot Rainbow indicated, lowering her face until her muzzle almost touched a rather large blob. "I know this place! It's where Dashie and I went to help the griffons and -- aw, where'd it go?"

The black blob had vanished, along with the other black markers on the map. Twilight's beam stopped when she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were back to normal.

"You okay?" Starlight asked as she withdrew the book.

Twilight nodded. "That was nowhere near the power I was channeling last time. But did you see? Even the Griffon Kingdom is affected. They've been made to forget, too."

"Almost," said Rainbow. "Remember what I told you about Gilda's father?"

"Yes, I do," said Twilight. "And I would not be the least bit surprised if that envoy that nopony can remember the name of was Sunset Shimmer."

"Now that we know the extent of this," said Rarity as Pinkie trotted back across the table and hopped into her seat. "Can we come back to Fluttershy's question?"

"Yes, we can. Rainbow Dash was not too far from the truth. Our combined Rainbow Power would be enough to destroy the spell. There's just one problem. We need physical access to all the anchor points of this spell, and that means all of Celestia's journals."

Pinkie smiled. "Oo, does that mean we're gonna be ninjas again like we did that time you went after the time travel spell?"

"Whoa, now hold on a dang minute!" said Applejack. "Ya ain't sayin' we gotta go in an' steal 'em, are ya?"

"That sounds dangerous," Fluttershy murmured.

"Which is why I love it!" Rainbow said.

"Has anypony mebbe thought we could talk ta Princess Celestia first?" Applejack asked.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Oh, right, that'll work. Oh, excuse me, Princess! Can we have your personal diaries so we can reveal the deep dark secret you've been keeping from even your best student?"

Applejack narrowed her eyes. "Ya know that ain't what I meant."

"We've done all the talking we possibly can!" Starlight declared. "She won't listen. She'll just keep brushing it off as nothing to worry about."

"But Twilight was Celestia's student for so many years," said Rarity. "Surely that counts for something."

"Not ta mention we know her entire plan," said Applejack. "How she gonna stand there and still claim she don't know nothin'?"

"Look, Twilight and I already hashed this out," said Starlight. "If the Princess is this desperate to keep her secrets, what's confronting her going to accomplish? We have to take matters into our own hooves. Right, Twilight?"

Twilight remained silent, her gaze lowered.

Starlight stepped towards her. "Um, Twilight?"

"I know we talked about this, Starlight," said Twilight softly. "But I ... maybe ... maybe I'm taking the wrong approach. Maybe I'm being blinded by my anger."

Fluttershy's eyes widened. "Anger?"

Twilight's head snapped up. Her eyes misted even as her lips curled into a frown. "Yes, I'm angry, Fluttershy. Angry that Celestia put me into this position, making me doubt the trust I put in her. The fact that I even thought of having us break into Celestia's private archive to retrieve those spell anchors makes me feel sick."

"I must admit, Twilight," said Rarity. "Going against Princess Celestia does not exactly fill me with elation. I would much prefer another solution."

"I wish I had more time," said Twilight. "The morning after tomorrow, I'm supposed to be on my way to a changeling peace conference. I'm positive that she wants me away so she can renew the dark magic spell without me sensing it. We have to do something before then."

"That's plenty of time ta go have a little heart-ta-heart talk with Princess Celestia," said Applejack.

"I know, but Starlight raised a good point. She's already deferred on this before. I need a way to make it so she can't go back on whatever she says and renew that spell anyway. If there wasn't an unknown and potentially dangerous anomaly in Canterlot, I'd have more options."

"So what are we going to do?" Rainbow asked.

"I don't know yet," said Twilight. "Let me speak with Luna tonight."

> Chapter 11 - Spreading the Word
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kevin returned to his office with only minutes to spare before he was scheduled to see his first patient, but if he delayed any further, the only opportunity he would have to perform this task would be well into the evening.

Contacting the Colorado Board of Health was not a particularly glamorous activity. Hollywood would have people believe that any physician could instantly get a teleconference with top physicians and government officials. Instead, he had to download a PDF form, fill it out, and fax it in. When he went to the page to remind himself of the procedure and obtain the latest form, a message in red appeared at the top: We are experiencing heavy volume at this time.

As Kevin began filling out the form, Heather entered and dropped a pile of folders on his desk and muttered, "This is going to be a long day."

"Just help me keep the coffee pot full, please," said Kevin.

"You and me both."

Kevin glanced up. "I had noticed you looking a bit tired. Are you all right?"

Heather yawned and stretched her arms above her head. "I had a rough night."

"Worried about this mess?"

"That and my sleep was interrupted by an altercation on my block," said Heather. "Apparently, Laura Tanner is not the only one with a tail. A nine-year-old girl has one. Her father was being accosted by another man demanding he keep that quote tailed freak unquote away from his kids so they don't 'catch' whatever it is she has."

"Oh, fun," Kevin muttered.

"This despite the fact that everyone in the other man's family already has at least the colored hair," Heather muttered. "Anyway, it escalated to a shouting match and then fisticuffs until the cops showed up."

Kevin finished entering the summary of the symptoms into the form before leaning back in his chair and regarding Heather with a concerned look. "Did you see the write-up I did on Laura Tanner?"

Heather hesitated before responding, "Yes, I did."

"Then if you follow through the implications of what her sister observed--"

"I would rather not, but being in denial doesn't help anyone, does it?"

Kevin stroked his beard. "I don't know what to tell my patients anymore. Perhaps I've been contributing to the denial by reassuring them that there's no guarantee they'll get any further symptoms, but I don't want to jump to conclusions myself."

"I think at least one of your patients sitting in the waiting room is here because of his new tail," said Heather. "He won't tell me what's wrong beyond 'hair where it doesn't belong'."

"So that's three people with tails," Kevin said. "We may be forced to assume that's the next stage. Let me finish with this first, and we'll get right to it."

Heather leaned over and peered at his screen. "Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin nodded. "I know this is a long shot, but did any results from the blood work I sent in yesterday come back?"

"Not a single one," said Heather. "The lab is swamped right now."

On the form, he entered info on the lab and the tests that were run against various hair samples so the Department of Health could pull the reports directly. He then added in the general comments section: I have found a positive correlation between these symptoms and those who have recently been infected with influenza. In all cases, the new symptoms started six to ten days after the influenza symptoms subsided. He looked it over one more time and turned his laptop towards Heather. "This look good to you?"

Heather leaned forward, her eyes sliding back and forth. "Yeah, I think that covers it."

Kevin sent the document to the fax machine, only to have it queue up when it initially got a busy signal. He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Now what?"

"I think I have an explanation," said Heather. "I heard a report on the news this morning before I came into the office. There's been a sharp spike in new influenza cases in the US, mostly along the Front Range."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "How bad?"

"About a hundred thousand new cases in the last week," said Heather. "Breckenridge and Silverthorne were hit almost as hard as us. The mayor of Breckenridge wants the ski resort to voluntarily close to reduce further exposure, but they're having none of that, not with as snowy as the spring has been."

"Can't give up that last-minute revenue, can we?" Kevin said in a dry voice.

"Now you see why I'm starting to get a little worried."

On the fourth attempt, the fax machine connected, and the document started transmitting at last. "Anything else for me before we see our first patient?"

"I got a call from Janet Turner," said Heather. "She should be in town within a few hours."

"Still on track for seeing her father tomorrow morning?"

"As far as I can tell," said Heather. "Assuming that she can get him to go."

"From what Laura told him about him, I'd consider making a house call." The fax machine finally declared success, and Kevin stood. "All right, let's go face the day."





Tina slammed her locker shut and rested her forehead against the door. "Way to bring down my mood, Laura."

"What are you talking about?" Laura said in a cross voice. "I'm the one with the ... you know ... not you."

Tina lifted her head and turned towards her friend. "I don't mean that, I mean the stuff about it being related to the flu."

"Bob had already said that."

"Yeah, but it's one thing when just anyone says it and when a doctor says it." Tina paused. "Well, Bob's not exactly just anyone, but you know what I mean."

"It's not like this is my fault."

Tina smirked. "Well, you were one of the first to get the flu."

Laura's eyes widened. "You're not seriously going to blame me for this? There were other people in that grocery store who got sick same time I did!"

Tina sighed. "Sorry, maybe this was a bad time to make a joke."

"Besides, I thought you wanted 'magically colored hair' as you put it."

"Yeah, but I'd rather not have a tail, thank you." Tina craned her neck. "You do hide it well."

"For now, anyway."

"So now that your doctor thinks it's flu-related, what's he going to do about it?"

"He said he was going to contact the Colorado Department of Health."

Tina snorted. "Like the government is gonna help. If they didn't do it in the first place."

Laura frowned. "That's not even remotely funny, Tina."

"Wasn't meant to be."

"You seriously think they'd do something like this?"

"Not intentionally," said Tina. "The government and the military have been known to engage in fuckery and not tell the population unless they're forced to. Go look up the environmental clusterfuck that was Rocky Flats."

Rocky Flats was a decommissioned facility in the western Denver suburbs where the military once created plutonium cores for nuclear weapons. Violation of safety regulations eventually led to severe contamination of the soil, some of which was spread by the wind to residential areas. The government eventually paid out millions in fines and lawsuit settlements, and it remained a sore point with many Colorado residents into the present day.

"So if you don't think my doctor reporting it is going to help, then what will?" Laura asked.

Tina grinned. "By harnessing the power of the internet, of course."

"I thought people would be already."

"Well, yeah, some have been tweeting and blogging about their hair and eyes."

"So isn't that enough?"

"Apparently not," said Tina. "I haven't seen anything in the news except some fluff pieces speculating if it's some sort of weird new fad or viral marketing for an upcoming film. Some newspapers and TV stations in Denver have a news tip form on their websites. I submitted to a few of them this morning."

"So maybe you'll get something there."

"Maybe," said Tina. "Or maybe they need something more than just hair and eyes."

Laura's eyes widened. "You don't seriously want me to post pics of my--" She lowered her voice and leaned forward. "--my tail, do you?"

"Why not?" said Tina. "Just a pic or two would be enough to--"

"I am not posting pics of my naked butt on the internet!"

Tina rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I didn't mean that. Find some old pants you don't need anymore and cut a hole in them. Or I could lend you some."

Laura clutched her books tighter. This was the last thing she wanted to do, but she couldn't get away from the voice in the back of her head telling her this was an important responsibility. "I don't want to do this alone."

"Then let's ask around," said Tina. "There has to be someone else with a tail. Maybe we can convince them as well."

Laura took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll try."





Soon after Laura had left for school, Sarah had sat down in front of her computer to try to work on her book. After spending a half hour staring at the blinking cursor on her document without typing so much as a single letter, she realized she had spent all that time thinking of everything except her book.

She regretted having sent Laura along to school, even if it had been at her daughter's own insistence. Harold's cabin fever had become too great to keep him in the house, leaving her with no one to talk to. He had asked her to accompany him, but she had believed she needed only her book to distract her.

Sarah placed an elbow on the desk and leaned her head against her hand. She brought up her web browser and idly clicked over to CNN. The top story was some geopolitical dust-up concerning trade with China that had no immediate relevance to her life. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she spotted a story under the domestic headlines titled "New Flu Epidemic in US?"

Sarah clicked over to it and read: According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, there has been a sharp rise in the number of reported cases of influenza along the Front Range. Areas hardest hit in terms of percentage of the population infected include Breckenridge, Lazy Pines, and Silverthorne. A growing number of cases have been reported in Boulder, Denver, Grand Junction, and Phoenix. CDC officials believe that the new outbreak has been helped in its spread by the booming ski resort tourist trade in Colorado. A very snowy winter and a wet and cold spring have combined to set near record-breaking numbers of tourists over the past month. A CDC spokesman stated, "We are studying the situation carefully but see no cause for alarm at this time. I should remind everyone that we are still in an active flu season, and spikes like this are not uncommon. We recommend that the public follow the usual precautions to help protect themselves and to prevent further spread. More information can be found on the CDC's website at www.cdc.gov."

Sarah flinched slightly when her cell phone rang. She yanked it out and tensed when she saw it was from Greg. "Hello?"

"I really debated with myself as to whether to call you or not, Sarah," said Greg. "Especially after what we talked about last time."

"Then you wouldn't have called me if you didn't think it was important, would you?"

"True, but at the same time, if you don't think it's safe for us to talk--"

"You obviously think it is," said Sarah. "Or you're willing to take the chance."

"But are you?"

"If this is just about my research, then maybe not right now," said Sarah. "I'm worried about my family's safety, but not in the way you're probably thinking."

"Actually, I might know," said Greg. "You've got something odd going on in that town. It's starting to make the rounds on social media. Something about weird hair and eye colors."

Sarah sighed. "It's ... worse than that."

"Then maybe we better take the chance and talk."

Sarah's heart thumped. "Does this have anything to do with what's been happening to us here?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. It just seems a hell of a coincidence that your odd hair color started the same day you were at the site."

"Turned out my daughter Laura already had the problem worse than me."

"Sorry to hear that," Greg said in a more subdued voice. "Maybe we shouldn't talk, then."

"Greg, right now, I'm desperate for anything, so I'll take the chance. What is it?"

"I went back to the site," said Greg. "Something had really bugged me about how those petroglyphs were destroyed."

"You said it must've been acid."

"I had a chemical expert look at it. To put it mildly, he was stumped. He knew of no acid or solvent that worked that uniformly, at least not at an odd angle like that."

Sarah paused. "Then it was machined off? A grinder or sander that took off the top layer of rock?"

"With as crumbly as that particular strata is? Hardy," said Greg. "This thing almost has a mirror-smooth finish now. I have no clue how they did it. You might as well list 'magic pixie dust' as a viable cause."

"Oh, come on, Greg, there has to be a logical explanation!"

"I haven't even told you the really way out part of this yet," said Greg. "The pics I took turned out really well. So well that I could do some substantial edge detection analysis."

Sarah knew where this was going. "Did the artist sketch an outline for the final figure?"

"Yes," said Greg. "We didn't see it because the petroglyphs were in shadow, but under the camera lights, the contrast showed up nicely. The incomplete horse-like creature was intended to have a horn."

Sarah leaned back in her chair. "So it may be a more ordinary animal, like an antelope or pronghorn--"

"No, you didn't hear me right," said Greg. "A horn. Singular. As in located in the middle of its forehead."

Sarah hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"That the artist scratched in a crude outline of a horn, yes," said Greg. "I'm sure of nothing after that."

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "This could go any number of ways. Whatever people they made contact with could have conveyed to them legends of pegasi and unicorns as well as the concept of horses. Maybe with the language gap, they confused reality with fantasy and thought they were being told about different types of the same species. That could be a huge boost to my theories if true."

"I suppose that's the most logical explanation."

"Why would you think it would be more fantastic than that?" asked Sarah. "Or have anything to do with ... um ..." She trailed off as she thought back to Laura's tail, and what Laura had said her sister had seen.

"Something wrong?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"Maybe I'm being paranoid," said Greg. "It's just too many bizarre things happening in such a short time."

"I realize that, Greg, and I admit, it is really strange," said Sarah, "But I'm a scientist. While that means keeping an open mind and maintaining a willingness to abandon old theories when they no longer hold true, I also need hard evidence. So things are going rather oddly both in my personal life and my career, but they're two separate oddities right now."

"Yeah, you're probably right," said Greg. "Maybe I used a connection just as an excuse to tell you about this."

If Sarah had not been so emotionally wrapped up in her family's plight, she could have chastised him for first suggesting that there could be a danger to her family over her theories and then goading her into talking to him anyway.

She rubbed a temple with her free hand. Moments like these led her back to past arguments between her and Harold. He never outright accused her of putting career ahead of family, but the subtle implication was sometimes there.

"I better get going," Sarah said in a subdued voice. "Thanks for calling, Greg. Try to keep in touch."

"Will do," said Greg. "Take care of yourself and your family."

He hung up. Sarah lingered on his parting words. "I try to," she said in a low voice.





Tina paused at the entrance of the cafeteria. Her eyes widened as she stared. "Wow, it looks like a hair dye convention."

Laura looked about as well. More than two thirds of the assembled students sported some sort of luridly colored hair. The color transformation was complete for about half of them. "I've been seeing this every day."

"Yeah, but I don't, since I usually go home for lunch."

"But you're here the rest of the time," said Laura.

"There's a big difference between glancing at people in passing and seeing it all in one go." She pointed. "Look. She didn't have curls at the ends of her hairdo before. The dude next to her didn't have that funky wave in his hair."

"How do you remember stuff like that?"

Tina gave her a half-smirk. "I told you, I'm into hair-styling. I tend to remember people more by their hair than anything else, unless they're really close friends like you. All it takes is a new haircut for me to be like 'duh, who are you again?'"

The flow of students into the cafeteria picked up, and students started bumping into them as they passed. "We're kind of blocking the way, and it's getting crowded," said Laura. "We better get in line."

Tina nodded and started towards the food line. "I managed to find four other people who admit to having tails,"

"I found only one," said Laura a bit sheepishly. She had stuck largely to people she knew at least in passing. She didn't feel quite as comfortable walking up to complete strangers. "He's not really hit in the head with your idea."

"Yeah, that's kinda the reaction I got as well," said Tina. "Bad luck that the attention whores don't have tails yet."

Laura shivered as they grabbed their trays. "Yet? I don't like the idea of this continuing without any end in sight."

"Join the club," said Tina. "This can still happen to me eventually, especially if your doctor is right about the flu causing it."

Laura looked over the food selection. Yesterday had been chicken cutlets, and she had managed to eat most of it, only to suffer indigestion later. At least it had cleared up in time to allow her to enjoy her mother's rice-and-bean enchiladas that evening. She grabbed a plain burger and a side of fries. "So you can't get any of them to do it?"

"I'm working on wearing them down," said Tina.

"But in the meantime, it comes down to me."

"It doesn't have to."

Laura eyed the salads. They looked particularly tasty. She grabbed one and set it on her tray. "But if I don't, who will, right?"

"All I'm saying is that if someone is the pioneer, it will spur the others," said Tina as she gathered her own lunch. "Lead by example, that sort of thing."

Laura never considered herself a "leader" in any sense of the word. She remained thoughtfully quiet as she paid for her lunch.

"Come over to my house after school," said Tina. "I even have some old jeans that I think will fit you that I don't use anymore."

"I have to watch Jenny," said Laura as they headed for a table.

Tina sat down. "Bring her along. Yeah, she's an annoying little brat, but I can put up with her for one afternoon."

Laura tried to sit and yelped in pain, jumping back to her feet.

"You okay?" said Tina.

"Stupid tail," Laura muttered. She slid more gingerly into her seat. "It's longer now, and it keeps getting caught under my thigh."

"So will you do it?"

Laura picked up her burger and looked it over. This close, it didn't appear quite as appealing as it had before. "Yeah, all right."

Tina smiled. "Trust me, this will work out."

Laura lifted her burger, sniffed, and scrunched her nose. "Tina, does your burger smell off to you?"





Heather met Kevin as he was heading back to his office. "Perfect timing," said Kevin as he continued walking. "You'll want to hear this. I found an inconsistency in the symptoms."

"Yes, making the waters even more murky is exactly what we need," said Heather in a sour voice.

Kevin gave her a humorless smile. "I knew you'd be thrilled. Anyway, I've had four additional people with tails see me today. If we include Laura, that's five total. Laura and one other have upper back pain. Another has headaches centered around the forehead. The last two have neither."

They reached Kevin's office. Heather closed the door behind them and said, "Are you going to update the Colorado Department of Health?"

Kevin sat down at his desk. "I'm still hoping for the blood work to come in, so I can see if there's anything telling there. If not, I'll update them by this evening." He glanced at his phone. "There's a call for me on line one?"

Heather frowned slightly. "The police chief. He can just cool his jets if you ask me."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "Yes, I know, he's such a ray of sunshine," he deadpanned. "Normally, I'd be inclined to agree, but I can guess what he wants to talk about, especially if he's had to deal with more incidents like the one you mentioned last night."

"I just know you don't care for his attitude."

Kevin drew his chair forward and reached for the phone. "Maybe, but I don't want to be standing in the way of him doing his job." He punched the button and lifted the receiver. "Doctor Conner here."

"Doc? This is Chief Barrows," said a scratchy, deep voice.

Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose. One of the things he liked about a small town was the more casual relationship he could enjoy with even those in power, but John Barrows would have none of that. He was too used to the political power he had back in New York City, which gave him the "right" to call people by their first name or a nickname, but in return he expected nothing less than an acknowledgement of his station. Kevin suspected John came to Lazy Pines only so he could say he became Chief of Police somewhere. "What can I do for you, Chief Barrows?"

"I wanna know if there's something I need to worry about concernin' the welfare of the town folk."

Kevin had to parse the man's words carefully. John still spoke with a thick New York accent that was hard to understand sometimes. "Could you be a little more specific, please?"

"I mean, all this weird hair shit," John rumbled. "People are startin' to freak out about it, and it's runnin' my officers ragged. Not to mention the last perp we brought in had a goddamn tail. What the hell's up with that?"

Kevin realized he should have involved the police a little sooner, but he didn't care for John's attitude. He tended to treat Lazy Pines as if it were a big city, rarely trying to connect with people on a personal level. Kevin's view was not unique; several officers who were Kevin's patients sometimes griped about him. "I don't know yet. All I know is that it may be related to the flu."

John chuckled. "Well, good thing I insisted on all my officers wearin' those masks when it first blew into town."

At the time, Kevin had thought it anything but. The flu had hit so hard that seeing all those police officers wearing masks touched off a bit of a panic. He had spent most of his time reassuring his patients that this was not some sort of Hollywood-style infection apocalypse.

"That kinda brings me back to why I called you," said John. "I need to know what to expect with this weirdness. I wanna have something to tell the people."

"Right now, you know as much as I do, Chief Barrows," said Kevin. "I've already contacted the Colorado Department of Health, but I won't know anything more until I hear from them."

"Well, shit," John grumbled. "There's gotta be something I can tell them."

Kevin was reluctant to give anyone false hope, and he certainly didn't want the police dispensing medical advice. "Try to reassure them that everything humanly possible is being done for them. As far as we know, none of these symptoms appear debilitating."

"Thanks, Doc," said John. "What about the chances of my officers comin' down with the flu? Some of 'em are still worried about that. If things are going to hell in a hand basket, I don't want them distracted."

"The infection should have more or less burned itself out," said Kevin. "But there's always the chance someone will bring it in again from outside."

"Mebbe I should order the men to wear the masks again," John rumbled.

Kevin barely managed to suppress a sigh, hooding his eyes with his hand. "Chief Barrows, I would really appreciate it if you didn't do that. I think that would needlessly scare people. Just follow the usual precautions, at least until the Department of Health tells us otherwise."

"Well, I hope they get their ass in gear soon before we really start hurtin'," John snapped.

"You're not the only one. I'll call you back if I hear anything."

"Right," John grunted before hanging up.

Heather smirked. "I take it he wasn't pleased?"

Kevin replaced the receiver. "I just hope he doesn't wind up doing more damage. The man may be competent at police work, but he is far from a people-person."





When Bob heard Laura and Jenny arguing up ahead in the hallway, he considered taking a different route. He had started to turn away when he saw Tina out of the corner of his eye.

"Heya, Bob."

Bob stopped and turned towards her. "Hey."

Tina grinned. "You're so quiet, I wouldn't have known you were back in school if I hadn't run into you. Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I've been back in school for a few days now. You?"

"I've stopped coughing up my lungs, yes," said Tina. "Want to come along? I was looking for Laura anyway."

Bob resisted the urge to correct her assumption that he tended to seek out either Laura or Jenny at the end of the school day. "Sure, why not? She's, uh, this way."

Tina snorted. "Yeah, I can hear. We better hustle before they kill each other."

"It's bad enough you have to watch over me," Jenny snapped as they approached. "Now you want to drag me to your friend's house to do something stupid."

"Will you stop being so obstinate for two seconds?" Laura said through clenched teeth. "And this is not stupid."

"You just said yourself you didn't want your tail out for everyone to see."

Laura blushed and face-palmed. "Will you please keep your voice down about it?"

"Why?" Jenny demanded. "You're about to let it all hang out anyway."

"What's the ruckus about?" Bob asked.

Jenny whirled around, the pink hair in the back of her head whipping about. "Laura wants to post pics of her curly orange butt on the internet."

"Just my tail," Laura hissed. "I'm keeping my clothes on."

"And Tina was dumb for suggesting it."

"Tina is not dumb," Bob said.

Tina smiled and bumped her fist lightly against Bob's arm in silent appreciation for the support.

"And I think this is a good idea," Bob added with more confidence in his voice.

Both Laura and Jenny looked at him and said roughly at the same time, "You do?"

"I don't think anyone outside of town is taking this seriously yet," said Bob. "So anything we can do to draw attention to it would be worth trying."

"Wait, I have an idea," said Jenny. "Have Bob look after me while you go off on your tailed lark."

"Jenny, Mom gave that responsibility to me specifically," said Laura.

"You never heard of delegation?"

"I'm not interested in watching Jenny," said Bob.

Jenny folded her arms and sighed. "Fine."

Laura looked over to Tina. "Sorry about all this."

"Hey, it's all right," said Tina. "But it is reminding me how good it is to be an only child."

Bob glanced over to Laura and Jenny. As much as he had enjoyed spending most of his childhood in the Tanner household, and he did love his "adopted" sisters, he could wish for the simplicity and quiet that would have been his mother's household.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Can we get going? I want to get this done soon enough so there's enough time to do something more interesting."

"Yeah, let's go," said Tina. She turned to Bob. "You coming along?"

Bob hadn't intended to, but if he was being invited, he felt it awkward to refuse. "Uh, sure. I'm kind of interested to see if it gets a decent response."





Tina frowned as she clicked reload for the third time before her dashboard displayed properly. "There, finally."

Bob looked over her shoulder. "Something wrong with your internet?"

She glanced at the modem and router. "Nah, it's cool. Tumblr just does that sometimes. It's like it's in perpetual beta or something."

"Sorta like the latest version of Windows," Bob mumbled.

Tina snorted. "Heh, yeah. Too true. Let's See What We Can Break Today!"

Bob was glad she was not looking at him, as he was sure he had blushed. He had not quite meant to blurt that out. He tended to say things like that to himself when he was alone. He managed a small chuckle without sounding too nervous.

As Tina idly scrolled down her dashboard and occasionally clicked on posts, Bob glanced behind him. They were alone, Laura having left to retro-fit one of Tina's old jeans to accommodate her tail. Jenny had hung out a bit until she got impatient and followed.

"If you don't mind me asking, you just got over the flu recently, right?" Bob said.

Tina turned her chair around and nodded. "Yeah. At first I was really glad I did, and now ... not so much."

"You worried about this happening to you?"

"Of course. Aren't you?"

Before Bob could answer, the sound of pounding on a door came from down the hallway. "Come on, Laura, what's taking you so long?" Jenny cried. "Insert tab A into slot B. It's not rocket science!"

Bob rolled his eyes and sighed.

Tina smirked. "Annoying little snot, isn't she?"

Regardless of whether Bob believed that or not, he never felt it was his place to complain, at least not to Harold and Sarah. "You could say that."

"Must drive your parents nuts."

Bob refrained from acting on the otherwise instinctive need to correct her. She didn't need to hear the sordid details of his special family situation.

Tina observed him for a moment. "So why'd you ask about me?"

Bob hesitated, not having expected the question. "I guess I was just interested."

He knew it was a lame answer, but Tina seemed to accept it. "How do you feel about this whole thing?" she asked.

"I really hadn't thought that far. Maybe I was hoping someone would figure this out by now. There has to be some sort of logical explanation."

From out in the hall came the sound of a door opening, followed by Jenny's cry of, "Finally!"

"I'm not leaving this bathroom until you repeat your promise to me, Jenny!" Laura called out.

"What, again?"

"Yes, again."

Jenny sighed. "I promise I won't make fun of your tail or include it in my stories. Okay?"

A pause. "Okay," Laura said in a soft voice.

Tina and Bob turned as Laura appeared at the door. She hesitated, blushing faintly before stepping inside. Bob's eyes immediately widened. "Wow."

"And a half," Tina murmured.

Laura's tail now extended halfway down her thighs, emerging not so much from a hole in the back of a pair of faded and threadbare jeans as a large, ragged slot cut through the band at the waist. "I'm sorry, Tina, I had to cut more material than I thought," said Laura. "My hair is just to thick to pull through a hole." She frowned at Jenny. "It's not as simple as tab A into slot B!"

Jenny shrugged and flounced onto the edge of the bed. "Whatever. Let's just get this done."

Laura's eyes came level with Bob's, and her blush deepened.

"Oh, um, sorry for staring," said Bob. "I hadn't seen it for myself before now."

Tina grabbed her digital camera from her desk as she stood. "It's definitely longer than I had expected it would be."

Laura tried to adjust the fit of the jeans to little avail. "I don't like how much of my butt is exposed."

Tina crouched beside Laura. The slot Laura had cut was at least a inch wide and three inches long. "Don't sweat it, I'll pick tasteful camera angles, but we do have to make sure people can't say it was just pasted or clipped on."

"I really wish someone else was doing this along with me," said Laura.

"Soon as I get these posted, I'm going to text the other tailed students I met earlier," said Tina as she snapped a picture. "And shamelessly guilt them into following suit."

"What makes you think they'll post pics of their butts just because you told them to?" Jenny asked.

Tina took two more pictures. "Because I specifically chose people that sort of look up to Laura."

Laura's eyes widened. "They what?"

Tina smiled. "I guess there's something to be said for being a lot more responsible than kids our age tend to be."

"Sorry I asked," Jenny murmured.

"Um, well," Laura said in a awkward voice. "It's not like I was trying to draw attention to it."

Bob refrained from saying "That's the point," but he knew Laura had a history of avoiding the spotlight. Back before coming to Lazy Pines, when they believed they were going to stay put for a while, Laura had involved herself in community projects and volunteered a lot around school, but she always turned down anything that hinted she had to take a lead position. She would drop out of the activity if the pressure became too great for her to take a leadership role.

Tina stood up. "Okay, that should be enough." She turned and dropped into her seat before the computer. "It'll take me a while to get this stuff off the camera and resized."

Jenny bolted to her feet. "Then let's get going. I don't want to wait around for this."

Tina looked over her shoulder. "You might as well, I haven't used this software in ages."

Bob craned his neck. "I'm familiar with it."

"You want to stay and give me a hand?"

"Yeah, sure."

Laura turned towards the door. "Let me get my jeans put back on and my tail stuffed into them."

"Don't take forever this time!" Jenny called out.

Tina sighed. "Jenny, why don't you give your sister a fucking break, huh?"

Jenny frowned. "What's it to you?"

"I'm her friend, remember? I don't want to see her get hurt."

"I'm not trying to hurt her," Jenny said in a softer voice. "I always talk this way to her."

"Yeah, well maybe this time you need to back off."

"I just thought having her post pics of her butt on the internet is stupid," said Jenny. "It's not going to fix anything."

Bob's eyebrows rose.

"Oh, right, and you're not all pissy about this cutting into your time," said Tina. "Sure."

Jenny's jaw clenched. "I'm going to wait in the hallway," she said as she rushed out.

Tina shook her head. "Honestly, I have no idea how you and Laura put up with her. What a self-centered brat."

Bob said nothing and simply glanced at the door. Was he mistaken, or had that been the first time that Jenny had even hinted at being concerned over fixing what was wrong?





Kevin had been going non-stop with barely a fifteen minute break for lunch, thus he took shameless advantage of a last-minute cancellation in his schedule to duck out of his office for a short break. If he had any hopes that the change in scenery would give him a new perspective, they were quickly dashed. Enough people in the town were affected by this strange affliction that it reminded him of his continued ignorance no matter which direction he looked.

During the flu outbreak, when three-quarters of the town were sick simultaneously, it had felt eerie to walk down depopulated streets. It felt like standing in the middle of an apocalyptic pandemic in miniature. His sense of unease had been mitigated by the fact that he knew exactly what was affecting his patients and could rightfully reassure them that they would be healthy again.

On the way back to the office, he stopped at a convenience store for some coffee, despite his own admonishments to his patients to avoid caffeine so late in the day. When he moved to the counter to pay, a cop was in line ahead of him. The cop turned and gave him a smile," Hey, Doc Conner. Long time, no see."

Kevin raised his eyes to the man's face and had to think about who this was. "Rick, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me," said Rick. He finished paying for his own coffee and stepped aside. "I know it's been a while since I've come in for a checkup, but--"

Kevin waved a hand in dismissal. Patients he ran into that he had not seen in his office in some time always felt the need to apologize. "Come in when you feel you need to."

"Yeah, I figure you've been kinda busy lately anyway."

Kevin started to pay for his purchase. "You could say that, yes."

"I heard the Chief talked to you today."

Kevin collected his change and moved off to the side. He took a sip of his coffee before replying. "Yes, but I don't think he was pleased when I didn't have any answers for him."

"Nothing ever pleases him, so I'm not surprised."

"In that case, maybe you can confirm if he was on the level with me. Are things starting to get out of hand?"

"There's been some trouble, yeah," said Rick. "But more from people who haven't had most of the stuff happen to them yet. A few people get tails, and they freak out that it will happen to them next."

Kevin looked around. Other store patrons glanced their way. He gestured for the officer to follow him out of the store. "I have to be honest with you," Kevin said in a low voice. "The appearance of a tail is likely the next symptom after the hair and eyes. It's been consistent so far."

Rick adjusted his hat. "I was afraid of that. The Chief is going to want more details."

"I'll inform him as soon as I can," said Kevin. "Right now, my primary focus is on the Department of--" He cut himself off when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. "I better take this, it's from my office."

"I gotta get back on patrol anyway," said Rick. "Good luck dealing with this."

Kevin waited until he was back in his car before answering. "What's up, Heather?"

"Kevin, I'm sorry, but you need to get back to the office right away," said Heather in a harried voice.

"I was on my way back right now. Is everything--?"

A voice erupted in the background. "This is a waste of time! You're taking me away from finding the truth! I refuse to be denied!"

"What the devil is going on over there?" Kevin demanded.

Heather turned away from the phone and called out, "Janet, please! Keep your father quiet!"

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "You have Fred Turner there?"

"Yes, Janet just brought him in now."

"But he wasn't scheduled until tomorrow."

"I know," Heather said. "But when Janet saw the condition he was in, she panicked and dragged him down here."

"Does he have the unusual symptoms?"

"Oh, it's worse," Heather said in a low voice. "He's got the hair and eyes. And a tail. And fur. And ... ears on the top of his head. But, my God, the worst is his feet."

"What about his feet?"

"Hooves," said Heather in a hollow voice. "His feet have turned into hooves."

> Chapter 12 - Memories
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Ponyville dreamscape is silent save for the gentle clop of hooves as Princess Luna considers Twilight's request. She finally sighs and says, "What you are asking me to do is violate my sister's trust even further. The only reason I was able to get you that journal was because she has no wards upon her personal archive against me."

"There's nothing about this that's going to be pleasant," says Twilight in a solemn voice. "And I presented the idea of breaking into her private archive and removing the spell myself as only one possibility. But if we don't do something soon, Celestia may renew the spell such that a direct confrontation with her will be my only option."

"You will have a confrontation on your hooves regardless. My sister will not take kindly to this."

"And I don't take kindly to being made to forget my own kin," Twilight retorts. "I haven't told my brother about this yet, but once he learns, he'll be even more angry than I am."

Luna stops and turns to face Twilight. "That is another problem. If you remove the spell, the suppressed memories of hundreds of ponies and griffons will immediately return. Not only will that potentially cause trauma for them, it could cause an uproar across all of Equestria. Depending on what Sunset Shimmer has done, it could provoke a war."

Twilight remains silent for a long moment before slowly lowering her gaze, her ears drooping. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I fear this is a case of the cure being worse than the disease."

Twilight raises her head. "I have to do something, Luna! This can't be allowed to continue! If only Celestia would talk to me and tell me the truth about what happened."

Luna sighs. "I know. I wonder if Tia felt this frustrated with me during my descent into Nightmare Moon." Luna glances up at the star-filled heavens. "Twilight, if you were to remove the spell, would it be possible to limit the extent of your efforts?"

"How so?"

"Could you strip away the spell only for ponies in Canterlot and leave it intact outside those environs?"

Twilight considers. "It's possible, but tricky. Leaving the spell intact anywhere could cause it to ripple back. Weakened, yes, but--"

"But by then, we will have had a chance to talk some sense into Celestia, and it will allow you to discover exactly what it was that has been hidden. Then you can decide how and when to dispel it across the rest of the world."

"Do you really think that would have a chance of working?"

"Consider that there are nobles old enough to have been at court twenty one years ago," Luna says. "If their memories return, and they're aware that they were purposely suppressed, they will put intense pressure on Celestia to explain what happened, even if they know not that she was responsible. Thus we contain the initial fallout to just Canterlot."

Twilight frowns. "I don't like playing political games, but I see your point."

"That said, I believe I have a means for you to gain access to Celestia's private archive without being noticed," Luna explains. "Allow me to demonstrate by adjusting this dream."

Luna's horn glows, and Ponyville ripples away to be replaced by dark caverns only faintly illuminated by glowing crystals embedded in the walls.

"I remember this place!" says Twilight. "These are the old crystal mines under Canterlot, where Chrysalis sent me while disguised as Cadance."

"Correct," says Luna. "My proposal is that you do something similar to how Chrysalis entered Canterlot. While the cave walls do tend to reflect magic, you can utilize your friends' abilities to help navigate to a position under the palace where you can teleport directly into Celestia's archive."

"And then we can use our Rainbow Power to defeat the spell," says Twilight in a dull voice. "And possibly destroy my friendship with Celestia in the process."

Luna turns towards Twilight. "It's up to you whether to pursue this approach."

"I keep thinking there has to be another way," says Twilight. "But if I do it this way, then there's just one question remaining: how do we get into the caverns undetected? Aren't there guards posted at the entrances?"

"I suggest you turn to your student for the answer to that question."





Starlight smiled as she set down her coffee mug. "Well, that's about as hard as falling off a log. I zap them with a mind charm, and they'll never know we were even there."

Twilight sighed. "I had a feeling you would say that."

"Oh, come on, Twilight, this is for a good cause."

"Most guards are trained to resist such things, especially after the wedding incident," said Twilight.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Um, Twilight? What pony at the table here put all five of our friends under a powerful mind control spell recently?"

"You," Twilight muttered.

"So, yeah, I think I can handle any defenses they have for that sort of thing."

Twilight took a sip of her tea. "All right, I suppose we don't have any choice."

"I'm just sorry I can't lend any Rainbow Power like the rest of you."

"I'm still going to need you to strip away the mind magic from those journals so I can properly see the dark magic," said Twilight.

"So when are you planning to do this?"

"It has to be tonight," said Twilight. "Celestia is expecting me to leave this afternoon for the peace conference. I'm going to take the train out of Ponyville in case she's watching me, but I'm going to get off at Appleloosa and get a carriage ride back. Luna is to send word when her sister has retired for the evening."

Starlight considered. "How do you know Celestia won't try to renew the spell by then? She may be waiting for the very moment she thinks you're far enough away."

"That was another reason I used the Cutie Map to see the extent of the spell," said Twilight. "When she renews that spell, it will ripple to every being who was affected by it. If any of them are near me, I'll detect it, and Celestia knows that. She's going to wait until she's sure I'm well outside the borders of Equestria. Most likely she plans to do it right before she raises the sun tomorrow morning."

"Um, okay, now for the really big question," said Starlight in a slightly quavering voice. "What will Celestia do when she finds out what we did?"

"I wish I knew," Twilight said softly.

"Heh, yeah," said Starlight, chuckling nervously. "So do I."





Cadance pushed her empty plate away with a nudge of magic and levitated the tea kettle to her. When opening the top revealed a distinct lack of steam, her horn brightened, and soon the tea was piping hot again. As she poured some into her cup, she said, "Shiny, I'm a little worried about Twilight."

Shining Armor did not respond right away, as he was engaged in a fruitless struggle to get Flurry Heart to eat her oats. The little alicorn foal had snapped her mouth firmly shut and drawn it into a disapproving frown. Shining finally drew back with a sigh. "Little missie, you are a hoofful this morning. You loved these the other day."

Cadance shook her head but smiled. Her horn glowed, and a condiment from the table floated over and sprinkled its contents over the foal's breakfast. "Now try."

Shining raised an eyebrow but did as his wife suggested. Flurry giggled and eagerly gobbled up what was on the spoon.

"You forgot again," Cadance said in a teasing voice.

Shining chuckled and ran a hoof through his mane. "I'm still getting used to this whole fatherhood thing. And why are you worried about Twilight?"

"I haven't heard from her yet."

"You mean about that anomaly?"

Cadance took a sip of tea and nodded. "I wouldn't be so concerned if Auntie Celestia wasn't acting as odd as Twilight claims she is."

"All I can tell you, honey, is that there are a lot of secrets in Canterlot," said Shining. "Even as the Captain of the Guard, there were things never told to me. I figured there was a reason."

"Yes, but keeping it from a fellow princess?" Cadance paused. "Maybe I should ask Auntie Celestia about it."

"If it were me, I wouldn't go prying into it," said Shining. "What's got you so hung up about this?"

Cadance idly stirred her tea. "Something I realized last night while I was trying to fall asleep. My memory of the time period when the building was sealed is a bit hazy."

Shining gave her a confused look. "Hazy? How can you say that?"

"Why?"

"You'd been foal-sitting Twily for a while already."

Cadance stopped stirring and looked up. "No, I hadn't."

Shining stared. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," said Cadance. "I started foal-sitting her around that time."

Shining blinked. "But you ... oh ... yeah, that's right."

Cadance frowned. "Okay, what just happened?"

"Pardon?"

"It's not like you to forget something like that." Cadance smirked. "Especially since that was around the time you started coming on to me."

Shining blushed. "Cady! Not in front of the foal!"

Cadance chuckled. "Shiny, she can't even talk yet, I doubt she understands what we're saying. Anyway, why did you have trouble remembering that?"

"Honestly, Cady, I don't know," said Shining.

Cadance considered. "Just who was foal-sitting Twilight before me?"

Shining paused. "A friend of the family, I believe."

"A friend?"

Shining scratched his chin. "No, actually ... a distant cousin of my father."

Cadance looked askance at him. "What was their name?"

"Night Moonglow," said Shining. "But we had to let him go because we thought he might be a bad influence on Twily."

"Night Moonglow?" said Cadance. "That's who Twilight said had last occupied that building she's worried about."

"Well ... yeah ... he lived on Old Canterlot Way."

"Which you didn't mention before."

Shining frowned. "What difference does it make?"

"Because it's not like you to be fuzzy on details like that, especially where your family is concerned."

Shining sighed. "Look, Cady, the family was going through a kinda stressful time around then. My grandparents were upset over the fact that they were never going to have another foal, and my Dad got into some sort of row with them over it."

"And you never told me about that, either!"

"Uh, it's not something that comes up in casual conversation," said Shining.

"This coming from a stallion who -- before we were even remotely ready to be intimate -- told me about the birthmark on his--"

"Cady!" Shining cried, stuffing napkins in Flurry Heart's ears. The little foal starting bawling, causing several glasses on the table to crack. "Oops. Um, I better calm her down."

Shining got off his chair and took Flurry into his forelegs, gently rocking her and making cooing noises until she began to settle down.

Cadance smiled faintly. "Sorry, I should know better than to tease you when Flurry is around."

Shining looked up and smirked. "Yeah, you should."

Cadance hopped out of her seat. "I'm going to send a letter to Twilight. Is it okay if I tell her about this conversation?"

"Yeah, go ahead," said Shining.

Cadance nodded and headed to her office. She levitated a scroll onto a lectern, grabbed a quill, and began to write. My dearest Twilight ...





"Starlight!" Twilight cried as she galloped towards the workroom she and her student had been using for their magic lessons. She had a scroll levitated before her.

Starlight turned from the workbench as Twilight rushed in. "What is it?"

"I got this letter from Cadance!" Twilight cried. "Read it!"

Starlight took the scroll in her magic and unrolled it. Her eyes widened. "The spell is breaking down for them, too?"

"Yes! And it proves that it had already started breaking down for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I have no recollection of somepony named Night Moonglow -- or Night Moonshine, for that matter -- foal-sitting me. When we saw that name in the registry at the Archives, it didn't ring any bells whatsoever. Even before this all started, it was already weakening for me. I think it's due to me being an alicorn."

Starlight smiled. "Right! And where Cadance is, too, it makes sense she'd start to get fuzzy on the details as well."

"And Shining Armor is linked by blood to his father and his grandmother and me. So when it starts breaking down for all three of us, he's being affected as well."

"Well, this is good, isn't it?" said Starlight. "We want the spell to weaken so we can more easily dispel it."

"Yes, but there's one problem," said Twilight. "It's going to make it a lot harder for me to do what Luna wants, which is to limit how much of it we nullify. I'm thinking now that once it starts to unravel, we won't be able to stop it."

"There's got to be a way," said Starlight.

"Well, yes," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "If Celestia herself undoes it."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"She's the one who cast it. She knows the spell inside and out. Despite my own knowledge, Celestia is still a more powerful and capable mage than I am. Using Rainbow Power is the only way to combat this spell without her, but in light of this, it will be like driving in a tack with a sledgehammer."

"But we started all this specifically because Celestia won't undo it," said Starlight.

Twilight sighed. "I know. Now I'm torn about going ahead with this plan."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're what?! You're kidding me, right?"

"What if Applejack was right? What if I'm giving up a chance to reason with her? I'm supposed to be the Princess of Friendship, not the Princess of Breaking and Entering!"

Starlight frowned. "All that's going to accomplish is Princess Celestia dancing around the truth again and convincing you that she knows everything, that all you need to do is trust her, blah blah blah. This is your family we're talking about, Twilight. We should stick to the plan."

"You're the one who was nervous about how Celestia will react when she finds out what we did," Twilight snapped.

"Try terrified. But I feel this is the right thing to do."

Twilight looked away, her ears drawing back.

Starlight stepped around her until she met her teacher's eyes again. "Maybe this will convince you. I may have discovered something about the nature of the anomaly."

Twilight's ears rose. "What do you mean?"

Starlight stepped over to her workbench, where several pages filled with arcane equations lay. "I've done some work on interpreting the energies we felt in Canterlot. That's what I was doing when you came in just now."

"Huh?" Twilight trotted over to the table. "How can you do that when it doesn't represent any known energy pattern? All you can do is a direct thaumic energy derivation, but the resulting equations would be useless without the proper context."

"When you're quaking in your hooves about confronting an immortal alicorn, you tend to find things to do to take your mind off impending doom," said Starlight. "So I did that derivation, and I think I found something."

Twilight's pupils shrank. "You did??" She looked down at the pages. "Wait, this one on the right details the energies from the time rift you opened during our confrontation."

Starlight's horn glowed, and she lifted a quill. She pointed it at various spots on the right-most page and the others. "Look here ... and here ... and here ..."

"There are similarities in the equations!" Twilight said in a voice of rising excitement.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what it means. I'm not as good with the mathematics as you are. I tend to go by feel rather than calculation."

Twilight's eyes darted back and forth, and she whispered the symbols as she read them. "I've got it! The energy from that anomaly is indeed like a rift, but not through time. It's for traveling through space."

"Space? Like a teleportation circle?"

"This is not teleportation," Twilight declared. "This represents a spatial displacement on a scale I've never seen before. Teleportation allows you to go from point A to point B. This looks more like it's attempting to bring point A to point B, to connect them directly. No wonder I couldn't fathom it at first!"

"Whoa, hold on," said Starlight. "How in Equestria could you even do such a thing?"

Twilight turned to her. "It's all theoretical due to the immense energies that would be needed. It operates on the theory that if you concentrate enough magical plasma in one place, it would create a physical warp in space. A wormhole."

"O-kay, you've really lost me now," said Starlight.

"Here." Twilight grabbed a piece of paper and a quill in her magic. She drew two dots on it, widely separated. "Pretend this paper is the universe reduced by one dimension. See how far apart the dots are? Now watch." She bent the paper such that dots coincided. "That's what I'm talking about. Bending space to go a vast distance by just stepping over a threshold. You don't teleport, you're just there."

Starlight gave Twilight a dubious look. "But isn't that a lot of work for very little return when you can just teleport?"

"Except teleportation has limits. Only unicorns can do it, and not every unicorn can. Even as an alicorn, I can't teleport directly from Ponyville to Canterlot without the aid of a teleportation circle. And once the portal is open, anypony can step across."

"Okay, but it still seems a little out there to me," said Starlight.

"Normally, I would agree with you," said Twilight. "But remember what I told you about my Grandma Glow's dream, and the experiment that got Sunset her cutie mark. She did it. She found a way to concentrate plasma and keep it stable. What she did in her basement lab was nowhere near what's needed for this, but it was a start."

"Fine, let's assume she succeeded at creating this wormhole thing. For what purpose?"

"To open a portal into the Griffon Kingdom. Maybe that's the connection with them, or even the cause of a potential war."

"How do you figure that?" said Starlight.

"Think for a minute what you could do with a portal you could open to anywhere in this world," said Twilight. "If you were of the mindset, you could pour an entire army through a large enough portal right into the midst of another country. Granted, Celestia likely wouldn't do something like that unless she felt Equestria was threatened, but often in geopolitics, it's perception that matters. If the griffons knew she had this technology, they might be worried it would be used against them, especially given their warrior traditions."

Starlight tilted her head. "So Celestia erased all evidence of the portal magic and the one who created it just to placate the griffons? That's almost ... too easy an explanation."

"I know," said Twilight. "And it's still unlikely Celestia would do something like that. But consider this: why would the portal be in Sunset's residence?"

"Uh, why not?"

"Because any sort of powerful magic -- especially if it's dangerous -- would never be allowed to be done by a student of Celestia anywhere but in Celestia's presence in a magic lab with proper precautions in place. Whatever Sunset was doing, she was likely doing it secretly."

Starlight considered. "I still think there's something we're missing, Twilight."

"I know," said Twilight. "But now that I have some idea of what to look for, I may be able to tease more out of that dark magic spell and find out more about what it's hiding. If I'm going to go behind Celestia's back, I want a better reason."





Sunset Glow's heart raced as she trotted through the halls of Canterlot palace. Her eyes glistened as she glanced at the banners displaying both Celestia's and Luna's colors and cutie marks. She had always looked up to the diarchs as kind, almost motherly figures, but now at least one of them seemed almost alien to her. She wished she knew quite why.

She wasn't even sure why she was doing this. As hard as she tried, memories of a daughter she may have had still seemed as fleeting as morning dew. Sometimes she could look at a family portrait and, for just an instant, she could see another smiling face next to that of Night's. Sometimes she could hear her laugh echoing in her head. Sometimes she could see her sitting at the table in her mind's eye.

Sometimes she could remember Sunset doing something so terrible that her mind refused to dwell on it.

What could anypony do for her? She and Night had spent hours talking the day before. Neither could get more than fleeting glimpses into a mysterious past, but what they did get were shockingly consistent. One thing that was consistent was the appearance of Celestia about when Sunset supposedly died.

Glow turned a corner, and she stopped dead. Up ahead, past two burly pegasus guards, were the tall, gold-edged doors leading to Day Court. Outside, several nobleponies milled about, quietly talking amongst themselves.

Glow swallowed hard and started forward, only to be stopped by two spears crossing in front of her.

"Halt!" barked one of the guards.

Glow backed up a step. "I-I thought--"

"State your business, please," said the other guard.

Glow took a deep breath. "I was always told that Princess Celestia ... that any common pony can see her if they wish."

As she spoke, hoof-falls approached from the side, soon joined by a female voice. "Yes, anypony can, but they must go through me first."

Glow turned her head as a unicorn mare approached, glasses perched on her muzzle, a clipboard levitated before her, a pencil tucked behind one ear. Her cutie mark was a calendar with every square filled in with an "X" symbol. "I am Tight Schedule, Princess Celestia's head clerk. Nopony sees her without going through me."

Glow turned towards the clerk. "Please, I need to see her, it's urgent."

Tight sighed as she peered at her clipboard. "Of course, it always is. Do you have a formal petition you wish to bring?"

Glow's ears drooped. "I just want to talk to her."

Tight plucked the pencil from behind her ear. "I have an opening for five weeks from this Thursday. That good for you?"

Glow's pupils shrank as she recoiled. "Five weeks?? I-I wanted to see her today!"

"Impossible," said Tight. She swept a hoof towards the nobles. "See them? They had to wait their turn just like anypony else. You want me to put you ahead of all of them?"

Glow bit her lower lip.

"Five weeks," said Tight. "Best I can do."

"Can you please do me a favor?"

Tight rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

"Just tell the Princess that Sunset Glow wants to see her, and it's about a pony named S-Sunset Shimmer."

Tight's eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to Glow. "Did you say Sunset Shimmer?"

"Yes."

Tight tapped her pencil against the clipboard. "Wait here," Tight said before cantering away.





Princess Celestia took a deep breath, and her horn glowed. The doors at the opposite end of the room swung open, revealing a middle-aged unicorn mare that she had hoped never to see again. The mare gulped, her pupils shrinking. Behind her, nobles gave her dirty looks.

Celestia put on her best smile. "Please, my little pony," she said in a soft, motherly voice. "Come in."

Sunset Glow paused, her ears drawn back. She glanced up at the stained glass windows, many depicting the exploits of her granddaughter Twilight and her friends. For just a moment, she could almost see another figure in one of them, but the vision vanished before it could fully form.

She finally started forward. "Hello, Sunset Glow," said Celestia. "It has been a while since I last saw you."

"Y-yes, Princess, I know," said Glow. "I'm terribly sorry for this, but ... um ..."

Celestia left her throne. "It's perfectly fine. Would you care for some tea?"

Glow shook her head. "No, but thank you."

Celestia closed the doors with a touch of magic and surreptitiously cast a privacy charm on them. "What may I do for you, Sunset Glow?"

Glow stopped with at least four pony lengths between them. "Did your clerk convey the name I mentioned?"

"Yes, she did," Celestia said softly, closing the distance herself. "What of this name?"

"Does it sound at all familiar to you?"

Celestia looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Perhaps I have heard it."

Glow's eyes widened. "Y-you have??"

"Is it not a name you and your husband were considering if you had a daughter?"

Glow's face fell, and her ears drooped. "I suppose ... maybe ... but ..."

"But what, my little pony?"

Glow scraped a hoof on the tile. "I don't think Shimmy and I ever really talked about it seriously. I mean, yes, we talked about having a daughter but not the exact name."

Celestia smiled. "My thought is that you did mention it, likely at a gathering of Twilight's family at the palace during her time as my student, but don't recall. It is a rather lovely--"

"Princess, did you ever have another student before Twilight?" Glow suddenly blurted, her eyes shimmering.

Celestia took a step to the side. "I've had many students over the years, Sunset Glow. So the answer to that would be yes."

"I mean right before Twilight." Glow paused. "T-Twenty-one years ago."

Celestia turned towards one of the stained glass windows. She gazed up at the image of Twilight and her friends using the Elements of Harmony to defeat Nightmare Moon and begin her sister's reform. "No," she said softly. "Not then."

"Are you sure?"

Celestia turned to face her. "I must admit, I am curious as to why you ask about this."

Glow swallowed hard. She tried not to be fearful in Celestia's presence, but despite the diarch's soft voice and gentle manner, she felt as if she were being scrutinized. "I'm not sure. Dreams I've had. Dreams that I didn't think were real until--"

"Until what?"

Glow clamped her mouth shut. She remembered what Night had told her of Twilight and Starlight's visit and what they had said after reading the letter from Luna: Princess Celestia is on to us. "It's not important, Princess, it's just something about them lately that makes me ... m-makes me wonder ..."

"Perhaps this is something you should take up with my sister."

Glow forced her eyes up to meet Celestia's. Her lips turned into a small frown as she said, "You're the one in my dream. You're the one delivering the news that our daughter is dead!"

Celestia's eyes glistened. She turned her gaze away. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you after all."

Glow blinked away tears. "You can?"

Celestia forced herself to look back at Glow and put her smile back into place. "Yes. I can make this better. I can help free you of this dream."

Glow stared. "But how?"

Celestia returned to her throne. "Do not be concerned about the details. Just go to sleep tonight confident that you will never be plagued by it again."

Glow hesitated. "Um, okay."

"You should not have to suffer like this, not for a daughter you do not have."

Glow's ears drew back. She had no idea what she had hoped for in coming here, but this was not quite it. Had she really wanted to be told that she and her husband had sired a daughter who was gone forever? "If I may ask, Princess, why would I have these dreams? Dreams that even Princess Luna could never dispel?"

"Sometimes, my little pony, there is no stronger magic than wishful thinking."

"But I wouldn't wish for a daughter who's dead!"

Celestia nodded once. "I understand. But that makes your daughter no more real."

Glow glanced away for a moment. "Princess?"

"Yes?"

"Say her name."

Celestia hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

"You haven't said her name once," said Glow. "Please, say it."

Celestia's throat tightened. "Sunset Shimmer," she said in a neutral voice. "Is that satisfactory?"

Glow turned away, her ears drooping. "I guess it will have to be. Thank you for your time, Princess."

Celestia's eyes misted. She almost called Glow back. Instead, she opened the doors with her magic and watched the mare go. A noble started forward, but Celestia held up a hoof. "Court will resume in ten minutes." She swiftly closed the door before the frowning pony.

Celestia took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Sunset Glow, but I will keep my promise. After I lower the sun this evening, you will never be bothered by this memory ever again."





The serpent was wounded.

That was how Twilight interpreted it in the twisted realm of dark magic. It writhed and shuddered as if it had been slashed with a knife in several places. She could see greater snippets of the corrupted information, but even with some knowledge of what she was looking for, it would take forever to piece it together.

She didn't have forever. She had to limit her time here. Channeling too much dark magic would leave her too weak to properly excise the spell later that night.

She found an opening and launched a modified indexing spell, looking for anything that dealt with extremely high energies in order to track down more information about Sunset's possible interest in portal magic. The echo that returned to her was jumbled, bits and pieces of different documents and even memories from ponies minds.

(...would have dissuaded her from pursuing such high-energy experiments without proper...)

(...seek to concentrate magical plasma to such vast compression that the resulting high-energy field...)

(...had detected the high-energy plasma and yet she STILL lied to the Princess...)

Twilight frowned. What surprised and disappointed her was how little there was to find on this subject. All it did was confirm that Sunset had been working on very high energy plasma projects without Celestia's approval. But what could ...

(...almost prefer she had went the high-energy road instead of what she actually did...)

"What was that?" Twilight said. "Where did that come from?"

Twilight hurried to trace that thread of data back to its source. It originated from one of Celestia's own journals, a different volume than the one Luna had sent her. She tried to find it again, but the serpent was on to her; it severed the thread and blocked her from finding it again.

Twilight's mind raced. Sunset's breakthrough had been creating and maintaining ultra-dense plasma, which seemed well-suited as a linchpin for a portal. Could she have gone down a different path?

That would mean Sunset used the knowledge she gained in manipulating plasma somewhere else. Theoretically, it could be used to transform different types of magic into one another. Starswirl the Bearded himself had postulated that at sufficiently high energies, all the fundamental magic types unify into a single force.

Twilight had enough time for only one more indexing spell. This time she looked for anything that had to do with manipulation or transformation. It was a long shot, but it's all she had. She cast her spell, and almost at once she was overwhelmed with the response. It was not at all what she had expected.

(...manipulation of the thaumic quanta showed some promise but a reversal was too easy to...)

(...affected the organic transformation matrix to an insufficient degree for permanent...)

(...quickly reasserted itself, thus manipulating the transformation coefficient is a dead end...)

"Transformation magic?" Twilight murmured. "But that's no more than a parlor trick to somepony of Sunset's talent. Why would she bother with it? Unless ..."

(...must effect the transformation to such a degree as to negate easy reversal...)

(...there might be a way for the transformation to harness the morphic...)

(...another vehicle would be needed to deliver the necessary transformation magic gradually so as...)

Twilight gasped. "Is that even POSSIBLE? How?! Please tell me more! I--"

Yet her time was up, and she spiraled up and out of the void.





The beam ceased, and the ichor evaporated from Twilight's horn. Her eyes blinked open, and she uttered a gasp.

Starlight and Spike rushed over to her. "What is it?" Starlight cried.

"Are you okay, Twilight?" Spike asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, Spike," said Twilight. "Starlight, I think I figured out what Sunset was really doing. She was working with transformation magic!"

Starlight hesitated, but when Twilight did not follow up her revelation, she prompted with, "Uh, okay? So? Every unicorn who goes into advanced magic knows that. It's like one of the first things that gets taught."

"Transformation magic?" Spike asked. "Is that where you change a thing into something else?"

"Yes, Spike, that's correct," said Twilight.

"Then I'm with Starlight here. That's stuff you were doing even before Princess Celestia sent you to Ponyville." He chuckled. "You even did it to your parents during the magical test that hatched me."

Starlight giggled. "She did?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah, she turned them into plants. I'm told that she freaked out a bit before Princess Celestia set things right."

"The point is, they would've changed back on their own even if Celestia hadn't stepped in," said Twilight.

"They would?" said Spike.

"All living things have what's called a morphic resonance," Twilight explained. "It's sort of a biomagical blueprint of what you're supposed to be. Transformation magic has to overcome it in order to work, but the resonance is powerful enough that it reasserts itself and eventually changes the creature back. It's strongest in sapient creatures. The only way to keep a creature transformed is to keep renewing the spell. The exception is chaos magic, but that's not what we're dealing with here."

"So where does Sunset fit in to all this?" Starlight asked.

"I think she was searching for a way to make the transformation permanent."

"Can't you do that by just putting more power into the spell?" asked Spike.

"No, because there's a limit to what a living being will tolerate. Past that, you risk harming or killing the creature. Sunset would know that."

"So how did she plan on doing it?" asked Starlight.

"I'm not sure," said Twilight. "I can only theorize that she was looking for a way to transform a creature by modifying the morphic resonance itself, thus effectively changing the creature from the inside out."

Starlight's eyes widened. "But how? And to transform what into what? And why?"

"To answer that, we're going to have to break the dark magic spell."

"So the original plan is on?"

Twilight paused. "Mostly."

Starlight gave her a confused look. "Huh?"

Twilight turned to her. "I finally put my hoof on what's bothering me about this plan. It treats Celestia as an adversary who must be defeated instead of a friend who's made a bad decision."

"So, we're not going to go after the spell anchors?"

"We are," said Twilight. "But we're not going to do it by skulking about in the caverns under Canterlot like we're some sort of infiltrators. Nor am I going to pass up an opportunity to have Celestia realize her mistake and fix this mess herself."

Starlight sighed. "I really hope you know what you're doing, Twilight."

"So do I," said Twilight. "Regardless of what happens, that spell has to be broken. If Sunset was working on both permanent transformation and portal technology, and the two are related somehow, there are too many bad outcomes to contemplate. I need to know what really happened ... and if there's any fallout yet to come."

> Chapter 13 - Index Case
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kevin entered his office through the back and was immediately greeted by Heather. "I sent everyone else home," she said. "Some had left on their own after hearing Turner raving."

"Are you all right?" Kevin asked.

Heather took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine now. I was just shocked. I have a reason for why I got a bit unhinged, but it can wait." She handed him a folder. "You really need to see Fred Turner."

Kevin opened the folder and examined the list of symptoms Heather had noted, as well as the listing of his vitals. "All right, no more patients today after him."

"I'd just as soon not have people see him in this state," said Heather.

"Just how many people have seen him?"

"Hopefully no one," said Heather. "Janet brought him in through the back to avoid attracting attention."

"Good. The last thing we need is a mass panic."

Kevin headed down the hallway. He grasped the knob of the door to the examination room, hesitated, then headed inside. Despite steeling himself, for a moment, all he could do was stare.

The Fred Turner he remembered was a man in his fifties who was still fairly robust, chest broad, arms corded with muscle, and standing an imposing six-foot-three with near-perfect posture. Kevin had little insight into the man's past other than his medical bills were paid via military veterans benefits. His hair had been short, wiry, and brown with streaks of gray. His eyes had been a piercing cool blue.

The Fred Turner who sat on the edge of the examination table bore little resemblance to this, save for perhaps his imposing presence, which he had somehow managed to retain despite losing a full foot of height and sitting hunched-over. Where wiry gray-streaked hair had been, he now sported a thick batch of straight peach hair that reached past his shoulders. Spilling from a tear in the back of his faded jeans was an equally thick peach tail. His blue eyes were now amber. 

What really drew Kevin's attention were the ears. They had migrated to the top of his head, bore a distinct equine shape, and were covered in short, rust-red fur. Only when the man shifted his weight and Kevin heard an odd noise did he look down. 

Kevin stared at something that simply should not exist: two fully-formed horse-like hooves where feet ought to be. Just above them, the skin of Fred's calves were covered in more rust-red fur.

Standing next to Fred was a dark-haired woman who gave Kevin a pleading look. "Doctor Conner! Please, do something for him, I-I don't--"

"He's not gonna do anything for me," Fred snapped, his voice breaking the illusion that this was someone simply pretending to be him. "He's in it with all the others. He just wants to cover the government’s tracks."

"Father, please," said Janet Turner. "Don't do this. Just once, can you--?"

Kevin was drawn again to those ears. As Janet spoke, Fred's ears swiveled towards the voice.

"The only reason I agreed to come down here is to see for myself," said Fred as he narrowed his eyes at Kevin. "And now I have."

Kevin stepped forward. "If I may ask, Mr. Turner, see what for yourself?"

Fred's ears drew back. "That you could very well be the cause of all this."

Janet sighed and gave Kevin a helpless look.

"In what way do I give you that impression, sir?" Kevin asked.

Fred waved a hand at him. "Well, look at you. You're not affected like the rest of us in town. Why would that be unless the government's having you do their dirty work? Or at least giving you a free pass?"

"Mr. Turner, my belief is that your symptoms may be related to your earlier bout with the flu."

Janet's eyes widened.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Fred growled. "I know what flu is, and you don't get this from influenza!" He turned to Janet. "It's what I told you. He's in it with the rest of them."

"No, wait, father," Janet said. "What if he's right? I could've done this to you without realizing it."

"What did you mean by that, Janet?" asked Kevin.

"I gave him the flu," said Janet. "I caught it back in Nebraska. Father was acting odd, and I visited him. I was still feeling under the weather but thought I was over it enough."

"How long ago was that?" Kevin asked.

"About a month ago."

"And you haven't had any symptoms like your father?"

"No, nothing like that at all."

"Stop implying my daughter is in on this!" Fred snapped.

"Mr. Turner, please," Kevin said. "I meant nothing of the sort."

"You're the same as the rest. Trying to deflect blame. Trying to keep me from the truth! But I'm starting to figure it out myself."

Janet clenched her teeth. "Father, I told you before, it's the most ridiculous--"

Kevin held up a hand. "Please, let your father finish. I want to hear what he has to say."

This appeared to mollify Fred somewhat, his ears rising. "You know when I figured out what's going on? Look at this."

He raised a hoof and tugged the pant leg up. What had been the ankle joint had migrated upwards, as if to compensate for the new shape of his foot. The fur continued under the edge of the pant leg. "This is what told me what's happening!" Fred exclaimed. "And I knew I was right, I just had the implementation wrong."

Kevin tilted his head. "Implementation of what?"

"All along I thought they'd manufacture some sorta disaster," said Fred with all the seriousness of a professor giving a lecture. "Make us all into refugees, then corral us into wretched, stinking camps feeding us whatever propaganda they think will keep us going. Instead, it's worse! Their plan is to turn us all into helpless animals that they can herd and keep in stables."

"Stables?" Kevin prompted.

He let the hoof drop. The metal leg of the table rang with the impact. "I've been in Colorado long enough to know what a damn horse hoof looks like. You're not gonna stand there and tell me that isn't their plan. It's me they really want out of the way, and they don't give a rat's ass if they have to take everypony with me."

"Father, why would they do that?" Janet said. "Can you please--"

"Wait, Janet," Kevin said. "Mr. Turner, can you repeat what you just said?"

"They're gonna take me out of the way and don't care if everyone goes down with me!" Fred bellowed.

"That's not what you said," said Kevin. "You said every--"

"I know what I said!"

Janet gasped. "W-wait, I heard it, too!"

Fred clenched his teeth. "I've had enough of this nonsense." He pushed himself off the examination table. His hooves landed with a hard clop against the floor, and he swayed. Kevin and Janet immediately rushed to his sides to grab his arms to steady him, but he wrenched them free with astonishing ease. Kevin rubbed his wrist and looked at Fred in some wonder. The man had always been in good shape, but Kevin had not remembered Fred being that strong.

"Father, please, you need to stay and--" Janet began.

"And do what?" Fred said. "There's nothing he can do for me. Only finding the truth will help."

"Mr. Turner, I want the same thing you do," said Kevin.

Fred narrowed his eyes. "And that makes you think you got power over me?"

"I have no intention of holding you here against your will, if that's what you mean."

"Damn straight you're not. Maybe I'm half horse, but I still got rights."

"But can you answer me a question, please, sir?"

Fred's tail twitched. "Depends on what it is."

"It's clear you had the flu a few weeks ago," said Kevin. "Did anything unusual happen either right before or during?"

"No, nothing."

Kevin knew Fred well enough to tell he was hiding something. He always resorted to short, curt responses when he didn't want to answer the question directly. Janet knew this as well, and she immediately prompted him. "Father, he can't help you if you don't tell him everything."

"Mr. Turner, you've already made note yourself of the fact that you're not the only one with these symptoms," Kevin said. "You speak of taking everyone down with you. I want to prevent that."

Fred paused. "I wish I could believe you," he said in a softer voice.

"Mr. Turner, I need as much information as I can get," said Kevin. "Can you tell me when these unusual symptoms started to manifest?"

Fred's eyes darted to the side for a moment before narrowing slightly on Kevin. "About twelve days ago. Started with the hair. Then the eyes and tail."

"About when did you get the tail?"

"Six days ago. The ears maybe four days ago. Then the fur and the hooves. You satisfied now?"

"Thank you for the information," said Kevin. "But I really would like to do a more thorough examination on you, or at least let me take pictures of--"

Fred frowned. "Don't take me for an idiot. Even if you were on the up-and-up, the system isn't going to help. If I'm gonna get the answers I was promised, it's gonna have to be from somewhere else."

"Promised?" Kevin asked. "Who made a promise to you?"

"Like I'm going to tell you and have you ruin my one chance at understanding." Fred turned to his daughter. "Janet, take me home."

Janet sighed in resignation. "I'm sorry, Doctor Conner."

Kevin wanted to talk to Janet in private but did not want to risk Fred's wrath, so he kept his request to himself for now. "It's fine."

Janet nodded to Kevin and gently took Fred's arm. "This way, father."

Fred slowly headed for the door, the clop of his hooves the most incongruous sound Kevin had ever heard. Even considering Janet's assistance, Fred appeared to be balancing on them well despite his apparent inability to stand up straight. Kevin noticed that Fred's legs were moving oddly, as if more than just the ankles had changed.

At the door, Fred stopped and turned towards Kevin. "I still think you're in on this. You tell your government masters that this will come down on their heads soon. Everything will come crashing down." He turned away. "Take me home, Janet."

Kevin watched then leave before sinking into a chair as Heather slipped into the room. "Well?" she asked.

"All I got out of him that was useful was the timeline of his symptoms," said Kevin. "Not much else."

"Surely there's something we can do."

"I can't force him to submit to a medical examination. Even if I had the right to physically restrain him, the man is as strong as an ox." Kevin rubbed his eyes. "I'll contact the police chief in the morning and see if he can give me more options. I'm going to need most of this afternoon to correlate the new data from the patients I've seen today and update the Department of Health. If Mr. Turner is to be believed, the condition accelerates after the appearance of the tail."

Heather glanced nervously down the back hall. "And you have no idea how far this is going to progress?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Kevin sighed. "This has got to be the most bizarre thing I have ever encountered in my life. It sounds straight of a bad sci-fi story. Fred Turner really looked like he was turning into some sort of horse. Or pony."

"Pony?" Heather asked. "What made you say that?"

"Something he said while we were talking. Also, given how much height he's lost, it reminds me more of a smaller pony than a larger horse. Either case, it's suggestive of something equine." Kevin leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. "I don't think I can do any more today."

Heather's shoulders slumped. "Are you sure you don't have time for just one more patient?"

Kevin yawned and drew his chair forward. "I suppose. Who is it?"

"Me."

Kevin stared as Heather turned around. A few of her auburn curls near the base of her neck had turned cyan. "I'm sorry," said Kevin in a heavy voice.

"No, Kevin, look at it. Really look at it."

Kevin tilted his head and stood up. "Heather, turn your head a little to the left." When she complied, his eyes widened. The cyan hair appeared slightly shiny. He gently pulled a curl straight. It sparkled faintly.

"It looks like it's coated in glass, doesn't it?" Heather said in a quavering voice.

"This is remarkable," Kevin murmured. "I've never seen anything like this among our patients."

Heather chuckled weakly. "Leave it to me to be the pioneer."

"When did this start?"

"I noticed it around lunch time, but we were so busy I didn't want to mention it," said Heather. "Now you know why I freaked out a little when I saw Turner. I ... I don't relish the idea of exchanging feet for hooves. I could almost tolerate the other symptoms, but that?" She shuddered. "It would make me feel like I wasn't even human anymore."

"There's no guarantee that will happen," said Kevin flatly, but the words were starting to ring hollow.

Heather turned towards him. "But if it's a possibility, should we warn your other patients?"

"And cause a panic? People are already on edge, and this will just push them over." Kevin frowned. "I don't want to start treating people for riot injuries. I'll keep going through official channels." Kevin's gaze and voice softened. "Is there anything you want me to do for you?"

Heather shook her head. "I just want to keep working as your assistant and nurse for as long as I'm capable."

Kevin stood and squeezed her hand. "Of course, Heather. I wouldn't have it any other way."





Tina gave a self-satisfied smirk as a reload of her friend's tumblr blog was rewarded with the picture of a short, wavy purple tail as the most recent post. She thumbed the button on her cell phone to send the text message she had already typed: Good going girl!

"That's three," said Bob.

"Yep." Tina clicked back to the latest post on her own blog featuring the pictures she had posted of Laura's tail. "Woo, five more reblogs, twenty more likes. It's starting to pick up some steam now."

Bob could not quite read the text on Tina's monitor from where he sat behind her. "Anyone respond in the comments to what you said about it being related to the flu?"

"Eh, nothing in detail, just short reactions with lots of exclamation points." She rolled her eyes. "And the usual idiots making jokes about traveling to Lazy Pines so they can catch this themselves. Damn furries."

Bob smirked, recalling how much furry fandom he had to slog through himself when he was looking for similar incidents on the internet.

Tina turned to him and smiled. "Thanks for helping with the image processing. Oh, and for fixing that damn video driver crash when we first tried to use it."

"The version of the driver you had is notorious for that, but Windows doesn't have the proper update on its servers," said Bob. "All we had to do was go to the vendor's site."

Tina placed her elbow on the hand rest of her chair and leaned her head lightly on her hand. "You sound like you know a lot about computers."

"I'm not really into it that much," said Bob. "I've just picked up a few things from my ... from here and there."

"So what are you into? Biology?"

Bob's eyes widened. "Er, what?"

"You figured out this was linked to the flu before your doctor did."

"Oh, that. Doctor Conner had figured it out pretty soon after I did, and he had far more evidence than one family."

"Is he doing anything about it?"

"Laura said he was going to contact the Colorado Department of Health," said Bob. "I also heard that there's been lots of new flu cases, but nothing like what's happening here yet."

Tina bit her lip.

"Tina, if I can ask, are your parents affected by this?"

"Not yet," said Tina. "Mom and Dad got the flu right before I did. I think we were something like the last ones to get it." She glanced at Bob. "Sorta like you."

"So we're going to be the last ones this happens to," said Bob.

Tina nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. What about it?"

"I think we should exchange phone numbers."

Tina giggled. "Wow, you work fast, don't you?"

"Huh?"

Tina giggled louder.

It finally clicked in Bob's head, and he blushed. "I didn't mean it that way!"

Tina laughed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased you like that."

"I just meant we should be able to contact each other if things start going really bad."

Some of Tina's mirth faded. "Really bad? What do you mean?"

Bob only knew of some of the details of what Jenny had seen when she was on Fred Turner's property, but what little he had gleaned worried him. "Tina, what if ... what if this will cause some kind of disability? The people who don't have it are going to have to help the people who do."

Tina folded her arms. "That's really cool of you to want to help, but you'd think someone else would be considering that."

"I just don't see things getting better anytime soon."

Tina smirked. "Wow, you're upbeat, aren't you?"

He knew Tina didn't mean anything beyond her usual propensity to be snarky, but Bob felt the need to justify his worry. "A few days ago, I found the blog of some woman in Arizona. She had posted that she had woken up with weird color in her hair. She had the flu a week before that which she said she caught on a ski trip to Breckenridge."

Tina stared. "You're shitting me."

"Then my Aunt Mary said she saw someone near Grand Junction with weird hair. He had caught the flu as well while he was passing through Lazy Pines."

Tina's eyes shimmered. "Let's worry about our own little apocalypse here in town," she said in a quavering voice. She ran both her hands through her hair. "You better be wrong about people getting into a really bad state over this. Hopefully it stays at just silly hair and eye colors and tails. But, yeah, let's exchange phone numbers."





Jenny skipped ahead along the path that wound through the woods, her pink hair occasionally flaring bright in the broken sunlight that shone through the bare canopies. "And here we see the poor peasant girl in one of her increasingly rare moments outside since she was forced to become the personal servant of the Fae Queen ..."

Laura sighed and glanced about as she tried to adjust her jeans. Jenny had wanted one of the steeper hiking trails for a different scene, but Laura was worried it would pull painfully on her tail. She almost wished she had risked it if for no other reason than the other scene didn't include Jenny's queen character.

"And all to ensure she doesn't let slip the Queen's terrible secret!" Jenny declared with dramatic flair. She spun around in place. "Yet here she is, confined to the gardens of the Queen's estate, where she can only dream of the knight who she would much prefer as her companion, even over the stable-hand who--"

"Jenny, don't you ever come up for air?" Laura groaned. "You've been chattering non stop since we left Tina's place."

"Don't interrupt my scene unless you want to participate, Your Majesty," Jenny said in a lofty voice as she continued to twirl.

"I don't want to be part of it in any way, and please stop calling me that."

Jenny huffed and came to a stop. "Fine," she muttered. "Sorry."

"Look, maybe I wouldn't be so upset if I didn't have my own problems to deal with," she said in a lower voice. "Problems that your little fantasy just keeps reminding me of."

"I said I was sorry." Jenny waited until Laura caught up before walking alongside her. "How are you feeling? I mean other than the tail."

"My ears are still buzzing. It's really annoying." She glanced down at her jeans. She had folded the cuffs up to compensate for her loss of height, but the new edges were already brushing against the tops of her sneakers. "And now I'm almost as short as you."

"Hey, I'm not short."

"You know what I mean."

Jenny smiled. "I know, but I have to give you a hard time sometimes."

Laura's gaze softened. "Maybe I deserve that."

Jenny gave her a perplexed look. "Huh?"

Laura stared at her sister for a moment before shaking her head. "Forget it."

"You're weird," said Jenny.

Laura frowned. "You don't have to give me a hard time every minute."

"I wasn't. I'm serious. Ever since Mom saddled you with this job of minding me, you've been acting strange."

Laura's eyebrows rose. "Saddled? You finally believe me when I say I didn't want this?"

Jenny shrugged. "I guess. But why not?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You always jump at any chance to look good in Mom's eyes," said Jenny. "And before you get your panties in a twist, I'm not trying to be mean, you really do that."

"I'm almost eighteen," said Laura. "I need to start acting like an adult."

Jenny snorted. "Laura, you've been doing this almost as long as I can remember."

Laura shuddered. "And you can't figure out why?"

"Only that you wanted to look better than me."

"So much for not giving me a hard time," Laura muttered.

"What?" Jenny said. "I'm just being honest with you. That's what it looked like."

Laura stopped and turned towards her little sister. "Seriously? You don't remember what happened when you were five?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "That's a really long time ago. Give me a clue."

Laura bit her lip as she debated whether to continue this discussion any longer. She had a lot of trouble reading her little sister's intentions. "The big storm," said Laura in a low voice.

"Uh, Laura? We were living in Nebraska at the time. We got storms all the time."

Laura stared at Jenny for a moment before shaking her head and starting down the path again. "You know what? Never mind. It's obviously not important to you."

"Maybe if I had clue as to what you're talking about, it would be."

Laura stopped, her shoulders slumping. Jenny had to be just playing with her. Laura took the bait anyway. "The really big storm that happened when you were five and I was eight, the one where the tornado came through the block." She turned around, her eyes glistening. "The one where you could've been killed."

Jenny's eyes widened. "Huh?"

Laura clenched her jaw. "This is why I don't talk to you about anything. You take nothing seriously."

"Laura, I don't remember that."

"Sure. Tell me another one."

"I'm dead serious!" Jenny cried. "I don't remember anything like that."

"Forget I mentioned it." Laura started back the way they had come. "I want to go home. I don't care if you're done or not."

"Um, okay," Jenny said in an awkward tone before following alongside her sister. After a long pause, she added, "I was serious when I said I don't remember."

"Jenny, just shut up."

Jenny frowned. "Anything you say, Your Majesty."





After spending a good amount of time on the hiking trails, Harold headed back into the town proper and stopped at the grocery store as he had promised his wife. Upon returning home, he was greeted by a welcome aroma. He smiled as he shrugged out of his coat and headed into the kitchen, dumping the bag with his purchase on the table. He came up from behind Sarah and slid his arms around her in a hug.

Sarah flinched, nearly splashing stew from the pot. "Oh, Harry, your hands are ice-cold!"

"Sorry." He planted a kiss on her neck before stepping to the side.

Sarah smiled. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture."

Harold glanced at the contents of the pot. "Looks like you're making a gesture of your own."

Sarah stirred the thick, bubbling contents of the pot. "Beef stew is Laura's favorite. I thought she deserved a treat after everything that's happened to her. You get those spices I wanted?"

"On the table." He glanced at his wife. "So, anything I should know about? You or the kids?"

Sarah's smile faded a bit. "If you mean the appearance of any new symptoms, no." She rubbed her eyes. "Other than my eyes itch, but we already know what that means. Jenny's not being helpful by trying to guess what color my eyes will be tomorrow morning."

"What color is the leading contender?"

Sarah gave him a cross look.

"You have to admit, she's probably handling this better than anyone else in the family," said Harold.

"Only because she's not taking it seriously."

"Or she just doesn't want to brood over it," said Harold. "You don't see me moping about it, but I'm sure as hell taking this seriously. I just don't know what to do about it."

"Maybe I do," Sarah declared. "We should seek medical help elsewhere."

"Come again?"

"As much as I respect Doctor Conner, if he can't help us, we should go somewhere and find someone who can."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "You mean go to another town?"

"Why not? To be honest, I have no idea why I didn't think of it before." She tasted the stew and reached for the salt. "I guess I felt like staying in town was the safest thing to do."

"There's no guarantee that anyone can figure this out," said Harold.

Sarah sprinkled some salt into the stew, stirred, and tasted it again. "Never mind that for now, dinner is ready." She turned off the burner. "Fetch the kids, please."

"Will do," said Harold as he headed away.

Sarah folded her arms and sighed. Already she was reconsidering her idea. Was it best to stay in town among people she knew rather than traipsing off to places unknown?

She shook her head when her thoughts threatened to run in circles. She grabbed some bowls and started portioning out the meal. She brought the first two out, her eyes flicking over her daughters, looking for any sign that something else had changed. She noticed Laura wearing jeans she didn't recognize, tail draped over the side of the chair. She decided not to ask about it for now.

The silence made her feel uneasy. Usually someone was chatting up a storm by now.

Sarah glanced at Bob before setting the first two bowls down before Jenny and Laura. A few more trips to the kitchen, and she finished serving the meal before sitting down before her own.

She glanced at Laura, who was picking at the contents of her bowl with a fork, her nose scrunched up.

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asked, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice.

Laura looked up, her face slightly pale. "Um ... I don't ..."

"It's your favorite."

Laura speared a piece of beef and brought it to her lips. She made a gagging noise and let the fork fall into her bowl, splashing sauce over the table.

Harold looked over to her. "Laura, are you all right?"

Laura pushed the bowl away. "I can't eat this," she said in a miserable voice.

"Are you not hungry?" said Sarah.

"I'm starving!" said Laura. "I could barely eat my lunch. Well, the fries and the salad I could, but not the burger. It's like it smelled bad or something."

Sarah's heart pounded. "Jenny, how is your stew?"

Jenny glanced at her sister for a moment before saying, "It tastes fine to me, Mom." Her voice was unusually sedate.

"Bob? Harold?" said Sarah.

"Mine is fine," said Bob.

"Same here," said Harold, his concerned gaze still on his daughter.

Laura lowered her head and covered it with her arms. "Please, I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid--"

"You certainly are not," Sarah declared.

"I-I knew I was having trouble eating meat, but I thought it was just stress or bad cafeteria food! I didn't think it would get this bad! I'm sorry!"

"Laura, you have nothing to apologize for." Sarah stood up. "I'll make you a salad. What about cheese? Can you eat that?"

Laura slowly lifted her head and nodded. "I think so."

"I'll put some in so you have something more substantial." She whirled around and headed into the kitchen.

Harold followed her in a few moments later. "Honey, are you--"

She spun around to face him. "No, I am not all right. None of us are all right. We have to stop pretending that we are. We need to get out of this town."

"And just where the hell do we go?"

"Denver," said Sarah. "It's the closest major city. Surely they have better hospitals and clinics there that can help us!"

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "Honey, there's bad weather moving in tonight. About a foot of heavy wet snow from here clear through into Denver."

"We've driven in that before."

"And just where do we stay?" Harold said, his voice rising. "You think we could crowd into Eileen's apartment? That's assuming she doesn't take in Bob and tell the rest of us to go to hell. We have no money for a hotel for a family of five."

"We'd be checked into the hospital at first," Sarah countered.

"Sarah, we have no medical insurance. There's a reason we stick with Doctor Conner. He lets us pay over time."

"The hospital can't just reject us!" Sarah snapped.

"If we showed up bleeding to death, I'd agree with you."

Sarah clenched her hands into fists. "I just want to do something," she said in a low voice. "I don't ... I don't want to feel like I'm ignoring this."

Harold tilted his head. "What gave you the idea you were?" he said in a softer voice.

Sarah folded her arms. "Greg called me earlier. He had some new information for me. It's not important what it is, but I've been wrapped up in it all day. I was lucky I remembered to get dinner started in time."

"Sarah, stop, please."

"No, listen to me. I obsessed over it because I thought somehow it might be related to what's happening to our family without realizing how ludicrous that was." Sarah paused. "Maybe I am letting my career take too much precedence over our family. It's like I can't separate them anymore."

Harold pulled her into a hug. "If anyone's been ignoring things, it's me. At least you're trying to figure out something to do. I've been pretty useless."

Sarah closed her eyes and leaned into him. "You're not useless. Stop listening to your father."

"Remember the returned letter?" said Harold in a flat voice. "He hasn't said a word to me lately."

"Then you're doing a good job of filling in for him."

Harold sighed. "Let's get back to dinner for now. You still need to make that salad for Laura."

Sarah nodded as they broke off the embrace. "I meant what I said, Harry. You're not useless. If anything, you've been the one holding this family together the past few years."

Harold didn't particularly feel like it, but he accepted it for now. "If you still think we have to go somewhere else, let's talk more on it in the morning."

Sarah smiled faintly and nodded. She kissed him briefly on the lips before they parted.

Harold's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he headed back into the dining room. "Everything okay?" Bob asked in a tentative voice.

Harold forced a small smile. "Yeah, it's good. We got it under control."

Despite the nodding of heads, Harold doubted anyone believed that any more than he did.





As the skies above Lazy Pines deepened into twilight, Kevin glanced out the window of the Mexican restaurant as another car pulled into the parking lot. He set down the margarita he had been nursing when he saw Janet emerge. He followed her with his eyes as she reached the front door and waved to her as she entered. His server ushered her over to the booth where Kevin sat.

"Sorry I'm late," said Janet as she slid into a seat opposite Kevin. "I had some phone calls to make before I left the hotel."

When Janet had not been able to free up right away after taking her father home -- having tried one last fruitless attempt to convince him to tell her what really happened -- Kevin had suggested they talk over dinner so neither had to bother with cooking that evening. "It's fine, Janet," said Kevin.

"May I get you a drink, ma'am?" asked the server.

"Just some iced tea, please."

"Of course. Another margarita, sir?"

Kevin picked up his glass. "One's my limit, thank you."

Janet stared at the server as he walked away, the back of his head covered in purple streaked with red. "Is this happening all over town?"

Kevin swirled the remainder of his drink around, the ice clinking softly. "I'm afraid so, which is why it's imperative I know as much about this as possible."

"I tried my best to get something out of him," said Janet. "I've never seen him act this secretive. Usually, I'm the one he trusts with his, um, theories."

Kevin took a pull of his drink and set the glass aside. "Do you know if he had any contact with anyone or anything over the past month or two?"

"Well, not anyone, I can assure you of that," said Janet as she picked up the menu. "Not with as reclusive and paranoid he is about 'infiltrators'. If he does have something he's hiding from me, I have no idea what it is or where it could be." She shivered. "Just being in his house makes me feel out-of-sorts."

"How so?"

"Like the air is electrified or something. Also a sense of weirdness all over my body."

Kevin hesitated. "Did you feel any nausea or abdominal pain? Headaches or dizziness?"

"I did feel a little flushed, but that's it." Janet looked up from the menu. "Why?"

Kevin was not sure whether to answer truthfully -- that he was checking for radiation poisoning -- given Janet's still frazzled state. "Just a precaution. I wouldn't go back there for now."

Janet's eyes widened. "You think he actually has something dangerous there? Or that his place is contaminated somehow?"

"This is all speculation, but -- and forgive me for being blunt -- given your father's questionable state of mind, I can't rule anything out."

"You don't need to pussyfoot around it," Janet said. "I know perfectly well what my father is like. He wasn't always like this. He was once a very respected man."

"Was he in the military?"

"Yes. US Army Special Forces."

Kevin paused. "The Green Berets?"

Janet nodded. "He was very proud of his service record. I was proud of him, even though I was only ten at the time. He gained a high enough rank to command men in battle."

"If I may ask, Janet, what happened?" said Kevin.

Janet frowned. "I wish I knew all the details. I learned a little through my mother, who divorced him since then. I learned more only when I was lucky enough to find one of the men who served under him. Father's last mission was in Afghanistan, twenty-one years ago."

Kevin did the math in his head. "That would be 2001, right? The forces we sent abroad after nine-eleven."

"Yes. He was very happy to be assigned to that offensive. All he wanted to do was serve his country, Doctor Conner."

"Please, call me Kevin," Kevin said.

Janet gave him an appreciative smile. "Anyway, he was part of the forces that entered Kabul in November of that year. Some scouts spotted odd flashes of light past the outskirts of the city. My father was told to take his unit and investigate. They wanted to rule out an isolated Taliban unit trying to harass the rear."

She paused when the server returned with her iced tea. Both Kevin and Janet ordered their meals, and they waited for the server to be out of earshot. "I take it something happened?" asked Kevin.

"Well, yes, but it really wasn't unusual," said Janet. "At least no one thought so at the time. He didn't find any enemy units, but he did find a little Afghani girl. She was probably no more than eight. She claimed she got separated from her parents. There was a village nearby, and my father checked with the elders there, but no one was missing a child. He took her back to base, and they sent her into a refugee camp."

"Your father said something about refugees in my office earlier," said Kevin.

Janet nodded. "It may be wrapped up in all this, I don't know. Anyway, my father took a liking to this girl." She smiled. "He always had a soft spot for children, and he got along really well with the children of the local population."

"What were the conditions in these camps like?" asked Kevin.

"I honestly don't know," said Janet. "It's not something father ever talked about. All he talked about was the little girl. She wouldn't give her name, and she refused to be parted from a ragged satchel she carried around. Father grew ever more concerned for her and kept visiting her at the refugee camp. They apparently had long conversations together."

Kevin picked up his drink. "What did they talk about?"

"I don't know. Father never told me. But, apparently, whatever was said made father start to make demands of the refugee camp administration concerning the welfare of the girl. Finally, someone complained, and father was reprimanded. He was told not to see the girl again, but he did anyway."

"I take it that didn't go over well."

"All I know is that father raced back to base claiming the little girl was gone."

"Gone?" Kevin said in a wary voice. "She ran away from the camp?"

"The administrators of the camp claimed no knowledge of the little girl at all," said Janet. "It was like she never existed!"

Kevin slowly set down the glass. "And how did the army react?"

"My father was well-respected enough that they took him seriously at first." said Janet. "They even started a search for the little girl, but soon after questioning my father, they remanded him for psychiatric evaluation."

"Do you have any idea what he had told them?" said Kevin.

Janet frowned and shook her head. "I wish I did. Even the serviceman I talked to didn't know much. He didn't even remember their unit finding the girl! He said there was some scuttlebutt about some hostile agent infiltrating the area and giving my father 'subversive ideas', but that's ridiculous."

"They ever find the girl?"

Janet took a sip of her iced tea and shook her head. "Disappeared without a trace. My father was deemed unfit for combat and sent stateside. He hated that. I'll never forget what I overheard him say to my mother. He said 'I feel like my country just punched me in the face.' Things just went downhill from there. He became increasingly suspicious of his superiors and the army in general. He was finally forced into an honorable discharge, but that didn't stop his slide into paranoia. He became convinced the government was planning some sort of move against its own people. Mother divorced him when she feared for the safety of herself and me." She thumped her glass to the table. "And that wasn't fair. My father is not like that, Kevin. He wouldn't hurt a fly. He received multiple medals for minimal use of force."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "I have to admit, Janet, this has been a humbling experience. I admit to being as guilty as the next person in thinking your father was nothing more than a crazy prepper. I had no idea he had served his country with such distinction."

Janet smiled faintly. "It's okay. I tend not to talk about it. This is the most I've ever said about it in one sitting."

Their conversation paused as the server arrived with their meals. They waited for the server to depart before continuing. "Janet, if I may ask, was your father ever formally examined by a civilian psychiatrist?" Kevin asked.

"Once," Janet said. "But I couldn't get him to go again. The doctor said the most likely cause was schizophrenia, especially after hearing about the hallucinations, but he couldn't make that a formal diagnosis without examining him again."

"Hallucinations?" said Kevin.

"That's the most disturbing part," said Janet in a low voice. "Some years after he was discharged, he claimed he saw the little Afghani girl again, and they started talking. His rhetoric against the government and their secret plans got worse." She picked at her dinner. "It was what prompted me to come see him this time. He claimed the girl was visiting him regularly. I'm really worried he's coming completely unhinged, maybe because of whatever's happening to him."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "Janet, I'm thinking back to what Fred said at the office. He said someone promised him something. Do you think he was referring to this imaginary girl?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." Janet took a tentative bite of dinner. "I just don't know what to do. I can't head back to Nebraska knowing he's in this state. He can't stay in that bunker of his forever."

"Where are you staying?" Kevin asked.

"At the Holiday Inn on the south side of town. I have the room booked for three days."

"Then let's see what we can get done in that time," said Kevin.

Janet smiled. "Thank you so much for your help. I really hope father will be all right in the end."

> Chapter 14 - Confrontation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia stepped onto the balcony and into the long, deep red-orange light of sunset. The sun hung just above the horizon, awaiting her touch to end another day. She held her lips in a small smile, the best that she could muster despite how this task still delighted her even after several millennia.

As she reached the railing, she heard the soft clop of her sister's hoof-falls behind her. Luna had been oddly ... compliant since she had awoken. The word wasn't quite the right one, Celestia realized, but it was sufficient. Luna seemed to be doing everything to avoid debate or disagreement.

Celestia's horn glowed, and the sun slowly sank. She flicked her eyes towards Luna as the midnight blue pony stepped beside her. "A bit for your thoughts, dear sister," said Celestia softly.

Luna slowly smiled. "Perhaps I truly have none this evening."

"Nonsense," said Celestia in what she hoped was a playful tone. "You always have something which preoccupies you. Please, do share."

Luna watched the sun sink for a few moments before she finally said, "Perhaps I am concerned about Twilight."

"In what way?"

"You've placed a rather large responsibility in her hooves."

The sky deepened, and the horizon faded to a dusky orange as the last of the sun disappeared. Celestia turned to her sister. "I assume you speak of her negotiations with the changelings."

Luna stepped forward, her horn glowing. "Whatever else would I mean?" she said gently.

"It is not like you to worry about how Twilight will handle a task. You generally have as much confidence as I that Twilight will come through."

The sky slowly darkened, and the first sliver of the moon appeared at the horizon. "Perhaps, then, I am worried over nothing. Thank you for setting me straight in the matter."

Celestia stepped closer to her sister. "Dear Luna, was that sarcasm by any chance? It is, admittedly, a little hard to tell with you."

Luna remained silent, apparently in concentration as she raised the moon. Sparkling points of light appeared as the sky darkened towards full night. "Perhaps I was merely concerned that Twilight still had her mind on other matters."

"I see," said Celestia as she turned away from the railing. "And yet I still trust her ability to refocus her attention."

Luna said nothing as she completed raising the moon. She continued to stare at it even after the glow of her horn had faded.

Celestia looked thoughtful. "Would it help to know that things will be set right quite soon, dear sister?"

Luna turned towards her. "Come again? What will be set right?"

Celestia chuckled. "Please, don't play dumb. You're not very good at it. You know perfectly well what I mean."

"Very well," said Luna. "Are you saying that you have a solution to the quandary of the anomaly along Old Canterlot Way?"

"Yes."

Luna paused. "Well, that is good to hear."

Celestia had seen the look of surprise on Luna's face despite her attempt to suppress it. "It will be implementing it by morning."

"Then if you intend to be up late, perhaps I can assist."

"Actually, I intend to do it closer to sunrise." said Celestia. "And I am sorry, but this is not something you can assist with."

Luna forced a smile. "I do admit, it was an excuse to learn exactly what the mystery behind this is."

"If you are still interested, you are welcome to ask me come morning, and I will tell you."

Luna gave her sister a confused look. "Why would I not be interested? I imagine Twilight would be as well when she returns."

"If after today, no one sees the anomaly as a threat, there will be no reason to pursue it," said Celestia.

"And yet you're saying that if we are still interested, you will tell us."

"Yes. I promise."

"Pinkie Promise?"

Celestia chuckled. "Very well, dear sister. If you or Twilight are still interested in this anomaly come sunrise, I will tell you both everything. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

Luna nodded slowly. "This is good to hear, Tia. Pardon my bluntness, but I am glad you have come to your senses on the matter."

"All I had asked for was a little time," said Celestia. "And now that I have been granted such, I am prepared to solve the matter. Then, perhaps, Twilight will consent to take up the task I had asked of her."

Luna hesitated. "What task?"

"Why, concluding the changeling negotiations of course. She will be much more eager to do it once this is over."

"Tia, you already sent Twilight--"

Celestia chuckled. "Dear Luna, I know her all too well, almost as well as I know you. She's not on her way to the changeling conference. She's planning something, something that is simply unnecessary."

Luna's mind raced. "Assuming what you say is true, then would it not be prudent to speak to her tonight?"

"I need to conduct this in my own way and time. Have I not already made my Pinkie Promise to you?"

Luna went over the promise in her head, as if trying to find some way her sister could wriggle out of it. "I suppose you have," she said in a cautious voice.

Celestia turned and started off the balcony. "Then I request you send a letter to Twilight informing her of my intentions."

Luna remained still and stared at her sister. "Why do you not do this yourself?"

Celestia stopped and turned towards her. "I know you've been colluding with her, Luna," Celestia said in a subdued voice. "And I imagine she's lost some faith in me. She likely trusts you right now more than she does me."

Luna stepped towards her. "And would this not be the perfect time to rectify that?"

"I will, when I tell her everything that has happened. In the morning."

Luna sighed. "I do not understand why you insist on waiting."

"And yet, is it that much of a hardship?"

"No, I suppose not," Luna said in a flat voice.

"Then, please, send your missive," said Celestia as she trotted forward. "Then we may partake of dinner, and I can retire for the night."

"Yes, of course, Tia."





Shafts of deepening sunset light stretched across the length of the tavern, glinting off the seven steins of apple cider -- and one glass of lemonade -- that the server carried in her magical aura. She approached the table and set down each of the drinks, all the while her gaze flicking from patron to patron. No sooner than her eyes fixed on one did they simply slide off, as if she knew these were no more than nondescript ponies not worth even worrying about.

She accepted the bits from a unicorn she was sure she had never seen before and would never see again. She would be hard-pressed even to remember what her cutie mark looked like. At least the unicorn tipped well. "Anything else?" the server dutifully asked.

"No, thank you, we're good," said the unicorn in a voice as nondescript as her appearance.

The server shrugged and headed away.

Under the veil of the incognito spell, Rainbow eyed Twilight. "So this is your plan? Sitting in a bar in Canterlot out in plain view?"

"Not at all in plain view, Rainbow," said Twilight with a smile. "We won't be recognized so long as Starlight's spell is in force."

Fluttershy's eyes darted from side to side. "Um, are you sure this spell is really hiding us?"

"Positive," said Starlight. "It's the same spell I used on myself while I was, um, observing Twilight prior to our little altercation."

"Ya mean while ya were stalkin' her," Applejack deadpanned.

"Uh, yeah, if you must put it that way," Starlight murmured.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make!" Rarity said. "To not be recognized for who I am in the heart of the fashion district of Canterlot! But I suppose it's better than traversing some dusty caves."

"It's not better, it's boring!" Rainbow said. "Why can't we just stick to the original plan?"

"Because I don't like the idea of breaking into the palace," declared Twilight. "I've already explained this to Starlight. I don't want to treat Celestia as the enemy."

"This still seems deceptive ta me," said Applejack. "We're still sneakin' about like some kinda bandits."

"It's only until we get to the palace. I just don't want to give Celestia any warning that we're coming."

"So we're not breaking into Princess Celestia's archive either?" Rainbow groaned.

"Not in the sense that we're going to force our way in," said Twilight. "We're going to walk in."

"That still don't sit right with me, Twi," said Applejack. "It still seems like stealin'."

"Except we won't be, not really," explained Twilight. "Yes, we'll be removing the spell anchors from her archive, but we won't take them any further than Celestia's office. We then summon her and explain what we know and convince her to break the spell."

"What if she refuses?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight glanced towards the window as the sun set. "Then we take matters into our own hooves," said Twilight in a low voice. "We break the spell ourselves."

"And if Princess Celestia tries to stop you?" asked Starlight.

"I'm hoping she won't."

"That don't answer the question," said Applejack.

"Maybe it's something I don't want to contemplate," said Twilight. "I can't believe Celestia would pit herself against me."

"As powerful as you are, darling, I'm not sure you want to find out of if you'd ever win a confrontation like that," said Rarity.

Twilight cast a sad look at her. "It's not that. Just the act itself would be devastating, and I don't mean in a magical sense. This is not about winning, it's about--"

Pinkie abruptly gasped and leapt out of her seat, her eyes wide. She hung in the air for a few moments in blatant defiance of gravity before falling back into her seat.

"Pinkie, is everything okay?" Twilight asked.

Pinkie smiled. "Wow, did somepony in Canterlot make a huuuuuge Pinkie Promise!"

"Uh, how would you even know that?" Rainbow asked.

"Normally, I don't. Weird, huh?"

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Look, can I at least pick an argument with a Royal Guard just to say I did something interesting?"

Twilight face-hoofed. "Rainbow, how many times do I have to explain this? I want as little confrontation as possible."

"But now that she mentioned it, what about the Royal Guard?" Starlight asked. "Won't they say something to Princess Celestia when they see us in the palace?"

"That's why I want to wait until Celestia is in bed," said Twilight. "Even if they do go to rouse her, it will still give us a little more time."

Starlight smirked. "They won't say anything if I zap them with--"

"No," Twilight declared.

Starlight sighed. "Fine, do it the hard way, then."

"You're still missing the point. This isn't about--"

Spike belched green fire, and he grabbed the scroll that materialized before him. He partially unrolled it. "It's from Princess Luna."

Twilight's eyes widened. "I was expecting Luna to send me word when Celestia retired for the evening, but this is rather early." She grasped it in her magic and unrolled it. "Dear Twilight: Celestia has promised that she will disclose all details of the anomaly in the morning. She has surmised that you might be planning something."

"Wait, what?!" Rainbow cried.

"So much for secrecy," Starlight muttered.

"Thus she requests that you reconsider your course of action," Twilight continued. "Please think on this for a while, Twilight. Sincerely, Princess Luna."

"So, um, now what?" Fluttershy asked.

"Sounds like the Princess came to her senses without us havin' ta skulk about," said Applejack.

Rainbow propped her head up with a hoof. "Yeah. Weee."

Starlight frowned and turned to Twilight. "Do you actually believe her?"

Twilight stared at the scroll. "I want to believe her. I want to give her a chance, but ... I-I don't know."

"What's the danger in givin' her that chance?" asked Applejack. "An' avoidin' a fight neither of ya want?"

"But why did Luna send this?" said Twilight. "Why didn't Celestia send it?"

"Unless she's just playing more games with you," Starlight muttered.

Twilight read the scroll again. "Please think on this for a while," she murmured. She looked up. "All right, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"I'm sorry?" said Rarity.

"Luna may have had to send this with Celestia looking over her shoulder," said Twilight. "This may be her way of telling me to hold off on making a decision just yet."

"So what do we do?" asked Fluttershy.

Twilight rolled up the scroll. "We wait."

"Great," Rainbow moaned.





Luna's usual nighttime routine consisted of holding Night Court until around midnight, then spending the remainder of the night dreamwalking. Yet after hearing only one petition that evening, Luna found herself too distracted to continue. As the noblepony left the room, she called Tight Schedule into her presence.

"We have quite the full docket tonight, Princess," said Tight without looking up from her clipboard. "I suggest that you next entertain the motion from--"

"I am considering suspending the remainder of the proceedings tonight," said Luna.

Tight's head snapped up, her ears drooping. "May I ask why?"

"I have much heavier matters on my mind."

"Surely you have time to entertain at least one or two more nobles," said Tight. "Otherwise you will be swamped into next week! Or worse: they'll show up at Day Court."

Luna frowned. Something about the way her sister had worded the Pinkie Promise still bothered her, which delayed her from sending the all-clear message to Twilight. She hoped Twilight had noticed her subtle clue about waiting before deciding to abandon her plans. "I preside over Night Court, therefore it is my decision and responsibility alone."

Tight frowned. "Very well, Princess, I just hope this won't get back to Princess Celestia."

"I would not concern yourself with that. I will apprise her of the situation in the morning."

"I daresay you won't have to wait that long," Tight muttered.

Luna raised an eyebrow. "What did you mean by that?"

"I saw Princess Celestia a short while ago."

Luna's eyes widened. "You saw her? Where??"

Tight was taken aback enough by the vehemence of the question that she just stared for a few seconds. "Um, well, she was headed for the Canterlot Archives."

"What part of the Archives?" Luna demanded.

Tight's pupils shrank. "I-I'm not sure, I--"

"Come, come, Tight Schedule, it is your job to remember small details!" Luna thundered. "What section was she headed towards?!"

Tight swallowed hard. "The H-High Magic section, Princess."

"You will inform the nobles that Night Court is temporarily suspended," said Luna. "Do everything you can to keep the nobles here. Under no circumstances is anypony to even think that Night Court has been canceled. I will return."

"Of course, Princess," said a confused Tight Schedule as Luna galloped away.

It had finally clicked in Luna's head exactly what part of the phrasing of Celestia's promise had bothered her: If you or Twilight are still interested in this anomaly come sunrise, I will tell you both everything.

If you or Twilight are still interested ...

Luna entered her quarters, grabbed a blank scroll and quill, and began to write. Dear Twilight ...





"... I fear I must warn you of what I believe is my sister's true intention," said Twilight with a slight quaver to her voice as she read Luna's letter while they walked a dark side street in Canterlot. "I hope I am wrong, but I believe Celestia plans on not only renewing the spell, but making you, me, and your friends, forget that the anomaly ever existed!"

"What?!" Rainbow cried. "She can't do that!"

"Uh, I think she can," said Spike. "She did it once already."

Twilight lowered the letter, her eyes glistening. "Spike is right! She has more than enough power to pull off such a spell. She's already done it before and suppressed the memories of hundreds of ponies. What's a few more?"

"She can't do it if we use our Rainbow Power!" said Rainbow.

"We can't maintain that forever. At some point, we have to relinquish it, and then the spell will affect us."

"Can you shield against it?" Spike suggested.

"It's the same problem, Spike," said Twilight. "I can't keep it up forever."

"What's the chance that Princess Luna is wrong, Twi?" asked Applejack.

"I don't know," said Twilight. "But Luna knows her sister better than anypony in Equestria. I-I don't want to think that she would do something like this, but can I take the chance?"

"I say we don't," said Rainbow. "Let's go in there and get those diaries!"

"I agree with her," said Starlight. "If we don't do this now, we'll never be able to do it."

"I-I don't want us to cause trouble," said Fluttershy. "But I don't want a spell wiping my memories, either."

"I most certainly do not!" Rarity declared. "That is simply a step too far."

"And I don't ever want to forget anything I ever did with my friends!" Pinkie said.

"Twi, I'm with ya whatever ya decide now," said Applejack. "When Discord messed with my head that time, I vowed that was the last time I'd ever let somepony do that ta me again."

"All right," said Twilight in a firm voice as she rolled up the scroll. "We'll get to the palace as soon as we can. I'll mass teleport us if I have to." She paused. "But first, I want to send a letter to Princess Luna. I have an idea."





Celestia glanced around her as she entered the High Magic section of the Canterlot Archives. The library was dim and silent, her muffled hoofsteps against the carpet the only sound.

She came upon a sign that said "RESTRICTED SECTION - Contact the Master Archivist for assistance". A simple velvet rope blocked the way. Celestia unhooked it from one of its posts and held it aloft long enough for her to pass before letting it fall back into place. A glow of her horn, and the lights rose enough for her to see the scrolls and books that packed the shelves. She advanced further, the tomes becoming less dense as she entered the Dark Magic section.

The irony was not lost on her. Many had questioned why she would ever want to keep information on such forbidden magicks. She had defended her decision by stating that all knowledge was precious; simply having knowledge was neither good nor evil, it all depended on what one did with it.

Yet now she was about to use it specifically to continue hiding knowledge from others.

She tried to use the same rationale that she had twenty-one years prior, that she had only the welfare of her ponies in mind. It was too soon for such information to reenter the public eye. Luna had been only partially correct; while Celestia had intended to make Luna and others forget about the anomaly, she refused to touch Twilight's mind again. In the past, she had what she had believed to be a very good excuse, but it rang hollow now. Adult Twilight was nothing like foal Twilight. Celestia just wanted a chance to fix things before she had to admit to her failings.

Celestia found the correct scrolls and levitated them to the lectern. As she read, memories tugged at her aching heart, yet she resisted falling into a useless cycle of "what if". Just as she fought her inner demons to an acceptable stalemate, her head whipped around when she heard a noise. She frowned and rolled up the scroll with a snap as soft hoof-falls approached. "What are you doing here?" Celestia said in a curt voice.

"I could ask you the same thing, sister," said Luna, her lips twisted into a frown. "But I think I already know."

Celestia took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was less hostile. "How much does Twilight really know, Luna?"

Luna hesitated.

"Come now, sister. Don't you think this cloak and dagger has gone on long enough? You and she were never good at it to begin with."

"You should talk about such things, Tia," said Luna. "It is you who started this."

"Now you sound like a foal on the playground. Teacher, she started it."

"Sarcasm does not become you."

"Nor does your defiance against me."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "And you think that is what this is about, just being defiant? Do you mistake me for Nightmare Moon?"

Celestia paused, her gaze softening. "I am sorry, I did not quite mean it that way."

"Yet you have been acting like you expect us all to fall in line with your will."

"If you only understood how I felt about--"

"Then educate us!" Luna exclaimed. "Stop keeping us in the dark! Can you not see how foolish you are acting?"

"You never answered my question," said Celestia softly. "How much does Twilight know?"

"How much do you think she knows?" asked Luna.

"Please, don't play games."

"Why not? You've been doing it with us."

Celestia remained silent and averted her eyes.

"You want the truth?" said Luna. "My original intent in coming here was merely to distract you."

Celestia's eyes snapped back to Luna's. "Then Twilight is planning something. I need to go."

Celestia tried to step around Luna, but Luna shifted position and stood in her sister's way. "Listen to me, Tia. I was going to meet deception with deception. The original plan Twilight and I had worked out was yet another deception. Even what she settled on is still a deception of sorts. This has to stop."

Celestia swallowed hard.

"Don't you see what's happening?" Luna said. "You're letting your need for secrecy get out of control. Equestria was built on Harmony, not lies!"

"What I did was to protect Harmony!" Celestia thundered, though her voice quavered. "And to protect Equestria! Don't you dare presume that I don't have my ponies' interests at heart!"

Luna's eyes widened, and she backed up a step, but her sister had not taken advantage of the moment to get around her. "I would never presume that," said Luna in a solemn voice. "I believe that whatever you did, you had what you thought was a good reason. What I am questioning are your actions now, not then."

"You say the deception needs to stop," said Celestia, her voice tinged with desperation. "Then tell me what Twilight knows."

"Very well," said Luna. "She knows of a pony named Sunset Shimmer, and that she is her aunt. She knows Sunset was once your student. She knows you cast a Dark Magic spell to suppress all record of her, as well as a mind magic spell to cover up the gaps in the historical record. She knows Sunset worked with both portal magic and transformation magic."

Celestia's eyes shimmered. "She knows all that?"

Luna smiled. "You should be proud of her. She had little to go on other than her own faint memories and a set of hunches."

"I am proud of her," Celestia said in a small voice.

"Then honor that," Luna declared. "Stop what you're planning to do and talk to her."

Celestia remained silent, her eyes downcast.

"Tia, Twilight has agonized over her plans. She doesn't want to confront you, but she refuses to let this go any further, not when her own family is involved." Luna paused. "I told you my original intent had been to distract you. That was until I received an urgent missive from Twilight. My being candid with you just now was her idea."

Celestia raised her head. "She ... what??"

"That's how much she values her friendship with you," said Luna in a softer voice. "That's how much she still trusts you. She's giving you every chance in the world to see reason, knowing full well you will be forewarned and could stop her."

Celestia glanced at the magic scrolls she still levitated off to the side. Her eyes misted. "I need to do what I feel is right, Luna," she said in a flat voice. "I-I have a greater good to consider."

Luna sighed and lowered her head. "I hope you can live with yourself, then. I likely won't be able to question you anymore after tonight."

Celestia let out a ragged sigh as she stepped around Luna. "I'm returning to my room," she said in a quavering voice. "Do not follow me, and do not disturb me."

Luna bit back a response and simply watched her go with sad eyes.





The quiet of Celestia's office was abruptly shattered by a brief explosion of displaced air. Papers flew from the top of the desk, and pencil holders tipped over, their contents clattering to the tiled floor. A portrait of Starswirl the Bearded on the back wall became skewed.

Applejack swayed, placing a hoof to her forehead and splaying her other hooves to steady her. "Woo, that was a mite rough!"

Fluttershy nearly swooned, and her face took on a greenish pallor, her stomach rumbling ominously. "Urk ... I-I think I'm going to be sick ..."

Starlight suddenly thrust a glass bottle in her face, pulling the cork free from the neck. "Here, drink this!"

Fluttershy grabbed the bottle in her shaky fore-hooves and drank. Very soon, her face returned to a more healthy color. "Oh, I think I feel better now," said Fluttershy. She smiled. "Thank you."

"What in tarnation was that?" Applejack asked.

Starlight took the empty bottle from Fluttershy. "Oh, um, it's an old family recipe. Since I knew we might have to mass teleport once or twice, I whipped it up before we came here." She hesitated and ran a hoof though her mane. "Um, seems like somepony in my family was notorious for upchucking every time she practiced teleportation until she got the hang of it." She blushed. "Can't for the life of me remember who that was now."

Applejack chuckled. "Uh-huh. Sure. Still, that was mighty nice of ya."

"Sorry about that, everypony," said Twilight. "I don't normally have to teleport that many ponies at once."

Starlight looked around. "Well, we're here. Where's Celestia's archive?"

Twilight glanced at Spike. "Spike, please put the diary we brought on the desk if you would." She stepped up to the back wall. "There's likely a hidden door in this wall." Her horn glowed. "I can sense a room beyond this one."

"So how do we get in?" Rainbow asked.

"That's easy!" said Pinkie. "Let's just drill through the wall!"

"Sounds good to me."

"We are not destroying the office," Twilight declared. She slowly stepped along the back wall, horn still glowing. "We're going to find the right place to enter."

"I must admit, this is rather exciting," said Rarity. "Secret doors and passages are so much part of the latest Shadow Spade novels!"

Rainbow looked askance at her. "You're not going to start narrating to some unseen audience while everything around you goes all noir, are you?"

Suddenly a large rectangle on the back wall glowed. "I found it!" Twilight cried. "It's right here."

"Well, let's open it, then," said Starlight.

"I'm going to have to figure out how. There's likely some sort of sophisticated magical code."

Rarity stepped up. "Or you could try rapping on the wall to the right three times."

"I don't think it's that simple," said Twilight.

"It is if you read Shadow Spade."

Twilight sighed. "Rarity, I honestly don't think Celestia would put in--"

Starlight stepped forward and thumped her hoof on the wall three times.

"--something so ridiculously easy that reading a--"

Click. The rectangular panel swung inward.

"--Shadow Spade novel would give you the answer." Twilight paused, stared at the opening, and face-hoofed.

"Good goin', Rarity!" said Applejack.

"How in the world did you know that would work?!" Twilight cried.

Rarity smiled. "Oh, just my sharpened investigative senses, darling, that's all."

Pinkie pointed a hoof towards a bookcase. "And the fact that Princess Celestia has a whole shelf full of Shadow Spade novels!"

Rarity tossed her mane. "Ahem. Yes, well, that, too."

Fluttershy gasped as she glanced towards the door. "I hear s-somepony's coming!"

"We need to get the spell anchors now," Twilight said. "Starlight, you take the lead and find any books with mind magic in them. Those will be the ones we want."

"Uh, I'd love to," said Starlight. She poked the air before the open secret door. Magic flared and rippled. "But we have a little problem."

Twilight stared. "A magic seal?!"

"Break through it!" Rainbow cried.

"It's going to take me time we don't have!"

"Oh, no!" Fluttershy cried as she cantered away from the door when hoofbeats stopped just outside.

"This is what I didn't want," Twilight said. "I didn't want a confrontation with--"

"Twilight, if you're in there, please, let me in!" came a muffled voice from the hall.

Twilight gasped and unlatched the door with her magic, throwing it open. "Princess Luna!"

Luna rushed inside. "Twilight, you don't have much time. Celestia is going to renew the spell as soon as she finishes researching the proper magic. It could be only minutes now."

"We can't get in," said Twilight, thrusting a wing towards the secret door. "There's a magic seal across the entrance. It's going to take me ages to work out how to defeat it."

Rainbow flew up. "Then we make a stand right here! She can't renew the spell if she can't get into the Archive."

"What stops her from teleporting in?" said Rarity.

"Twilight can cast a teleportation shield," said Starlight. "I can help maintain it if she needs her magic to work the seal."

"All your plans are for naught, I am afraid," said Luna as she stepped forward. "Tia has a secret passage from her room directly to her Archive."

"I didn't want to say it, but I thought that as well," said Rarity. "Classic Shadow Spade move."

Twilight looked up at Luna. She felt more than a twinge of guilt, but she had no alternative. "There is one pony here who can break this seal right now," said Twilight in a low voice.

Luna uttered a despairing sigh.

"Well, who is it?" demanded Rainbow.

"That would be me," said Luna.

"I don't get it," said Starlight. "No offense, Princess, but I thought Celestia's magic was stronger than yours."

"It is," said Luna as she stepped up to the hidden door. "But after I returned from the moon, Tia placed a failsafe within the walls of the palace. It was meant for the case of one of us needing to break a seal when the other was indisposed or in serious trouble."

"Then let's do it!" Rainbow said.

Luna frowned. "This is not something to be taken lightly, Rainbow Dash. She had installed that failsafe not just for practical reasons, but as a show of faith and trust in me. I feel I am violating that now. I wished I had gotten through to Celestia when I spoke to her earlier."

"But if she ain't gonna come around, then we can't wait no longer," said Applejack. "If all she has ta do is read some scrolls before she can cast the spell, we gotta hustle!"

Luna sighed. "Very well." Her horn glowed, and she lowered her head slightly. Light flashed around the door. "It is done."

Starlight poked her hoof forward but encountered only empty air. "Spell anchors coming right up!" she said before disappearing inside.

Twilight stepped over to Luna. "Thank you speaking with Celestia, I really appreciate it."

"Do not thank me," said Luna. "I failed."

"But did you?"

Luna hesitated. "I do not understand."

Twilight looked around. "If you hadn't gotten through to her at least a little, why isn't she here already?"

"It is as I said, she needs to complete her readings to renew the spell," said Luna.

Twilight shook her head. "It doesn't take long for somepony of her ability to read a few scrolls for magic she's already familiar with. It's more like she's letting me do this."

"Twilight, that is a huge leap of faith."

"Yes, but that's what friendship is based on," said Twilight. "Faith in your friends. Even after all that's happened, I still have faith in her."

"Got them!" came Starlight's cry. She emerged from the Archive with sixteen books levitated around her, all bearing Celestia's cutie mark.

"Arrange them on the table, please," said Twilight.

"So now what?" asked Fluttershy. "Do we summon our Rainbow Power?"

A voice sounded at the door. "That won't be necessary, kind Fluttershy."

All ponies spun around. Twilight's breath caught in her throat.

Celestia stood in the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the fur on her face was damp. For a few pregnant moments, nopony said a word. Celestia took a deep breath as if she were about to talk, but let it go as a shuddering sigh.

Twilight swallowed hard. The speech she had carefully constructed and memorized for this occasion now seemed horribly irrelevant. "Celestia," she finally said in a halting voice. "We ... I ... I can't let this continue. We don't want a confrontation ... we just ..."

She tailed off. Words failed her as she stared at Celestia.

Celestia stepped forward. "Twilight Sparkle," she said in a quavering voice. She glanced at her sister. "I've ... I've made a terrible mistake in deceiving you. And I almost just made another one."

"You were going to renew the spell," said Twilight in a flat voice.

"Yes, Twilight."

"And wipe the memories of Luna, myself, and my friends of this anomaly."

"Not you."

Twilight hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

"I never intended to include you. I was going to tell you about this once I took care of the anomaly. I was going to tell you everything."

Twilight remained silent for a long moment. She glanced at her friends and exchanged a long look with Luna before finally turning her gaze back to her former mentor. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

Celestia blinked and simply stared.

"So I get to be the privileged one," said Twilight, her voice rising. "I get to be special. Meanwhile my grandparents go on thinking that they never had a daughter! And my father thinking he never had a sister!"

"Twilight, I understand you're upset--" Celestia began.

"No, you don't understand!" Twilight shouted. "Or you wouldn't have done it in the first place! I'm not even sure if I'm really angry with you or just the situation. All I know is it can't go on." She turned, and her horn glowed. The covers of all the books on the desk flipped open. "And it won't go on. I want my memories back."

Celestia stepped forward. "You'll have them back. Right now."

Twilight paused before turning to face her.

"And your family, if that is what you want."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want," said Twilight.

"But I beg of you to let me limit it to just them," said Celestia. "Let me explain, let me make you understand what happened and what I did, and why I did it."

"That's all I had wanted from the start," said Twilight. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Celestia."

Celestia strode forward towards the open book. "You have every right to be angry with me, Twilight. But I still wish to thank you."

A very faint smile came to Twilight's muzzle.

"Thank her?" said Starlight. "For what?"

"For taking the chance and having Luna talk to me earlier. For having faith in me when I gave you little reason to do so. I'm sure you feared I could stop you in an instant." She looked over to Luna and gave her a small smile. "Fortunately, Luna knows not to hold back when she feels her sister is being a fool."

Twilight stepped up to her. "Then I was right? You let me get this far?"

"Indeed, I did," said Celestia. "But only because I was too much of a coward to do it myself."

"Please, don't call yourself--"

"No, Twilight, it's time we face the truth, me most of all," Celestia declared. "But let me do as I promised, and rid you and your family of this curse." She glanced over the books. "First, you will need all the anchors."

"Er, what?" said Starlight. "I thought I had all of them."

Celestia gave her a wan smile. "Not quite." Her horn glowed, and another book flew into the room from the Archive. Unlike the others, its cover was less fancy and was embossed with a red and yellow sun.

"That's Sunset's cutie mark on the cover!" Twilight exclaimed.

Starlight stared. "How did I miss that??"

"Because this one has no mind magic on it, dear Starlight," said Celestia.

"So if we actually did try to remove the spell--" Twilight began.

"It would not have worked." Celestia placed the new book in the center and stepped up to the desk. "Now, please, allow me to concentrate."

The others gasped as tendrils of absolute black suddenly roiled up from each of the books like squirming tentacles, twisting and writing as if in pain. Celestia's horn blazed, and they shuddered at the light. Instead of recoiling, they were drawn towards it, as if being sucked in against their will. The tendrils converged around Celestia's horn, twisting and coiling around it as if trying to somehow strangle it. Celestia whipped her head up. The tendrils snapped and shot back into their books. The bits she had broken off dissipated as the glow of her horn died. "It is done."

"Twilight!" Spike cried, springing to her side when she suddenly swayed. "You okay?!"

Twilight trembled, raising a hoof to her forehead. "I-I'm all right. I just ... a-a sudden flood of not just memories but emotions overwhelmed me for a moment. I'll be okay."

"I fully intend to reveal all," said Celestia. "But might I ask that we pick this up in the morning?"

Luna smiled. "That would be more in keeping with your Pinkie Promise to me."

Pinkie gasped. "I knew somepony had made a huge Pinkie Promise! Ha, it was Princess Celestia the whole time. We're going to hear the truth for sure!"

"I'm fine with waiting until the morning," said Twilight.

"We'd all be better off with some shuteye," said Applejack.

"Thank you for trusting me that far," said Celestia in a subdued voice. "I know I have done little to have earned it lately."

"Let's not dwell on that right now," said Twilight. "I don't want to blame anypony for this, I just want to understand."

"Thank you, Twilight. Thank you, everypony. You give me more consideration than perhaps I--"

A scroll suddenly popped into existence before her. She unrolled it and read:



Dear Princess Celestia,

Cady and I will be in Canterlot by tomorrow afternoon. You and me have a LOT to talk about.

Yours,

Shining Armor



Celestia sighed. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

> Chapter 15 - Speculation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura yawned as she stepped over to the window of her bedroom and drew the curtain back. Friday morning had dawned snowy and dark, a few large flakes still wafting down. Drifts covered the back yard and clung to the base of the tree and the back fence. Snowblowers growled and chugged in the distance.

Laura turned away from the window. The bottom edge of her bath robe brushed the floor as she stepped back to her bed, where her jeans lay on the mattress. On the night table were scissors and ragged scraps of denim. While she would have preferred to use the jeans that Tina had let her have the day before, they were threadbare enough that she didn't want to wear them to school. Where the school was on a delayed opening that morning due to the snow, she took advantage of the extra time.

Laura picked up the jeans and held them up, staring at the equivalent of a gaping wound she had inflicted, more than an inch wide and four inches long. She hoped it would be large enough.

She set them down and slipped off her bathrobe. Despite having cut it off the night before, her tail had grown back fully overnight. The thick orange hair reached just past the backs of her knees. There was simply too much hair to stick down a pant leg.

She put on her jeans, only to find that they were loose in the front, and the leg cuffs puddled around her feet. She tried using a belt, but it was just a bit too large. She used some safety pins instead and sat down on the bed to fold up the cuffs.

Her head jerked up when she heard a loud knock at the door. "Hey, Laura, can I talk to you?"

Laura was nonplussed enough to hear Jenny's voice that she paused in her reply. "Um, hang on, I'm still getting dressed." She grabbed a shirt from the closet, opting for a short-sleeve to avoid dealing with the sleeves being too long, but it still felt a bit like a tent. At least it reached down far enough to cover where her tail emerged to preserve what modesty was lost by cutting the jeans. "Come in."

Jenny bolted inside and dropped heavily onto the edge of Laura's bed. Her hair had turned completely pink since the night before. "Have you heard what brilliant idea Mom came up with?" she said in irritation.

"You mean what she mentioned last night before we went to bed?"

"How the hell is packing up and going someplace else going to help?" Jenny demanded.

Laura was a bit taken aback by her sister's vehemence. "What, seriously?" she said as she crossed the room. "You of all people should love the idea."

"What's to love about it? Mom's making us all pack like she wants to be ready to bug out at a moment's notice."

Laura approached a low dresser where a travel bag sat. "Yeah, and shouldn't you be doing that now?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Can you stop being miss goodie-two-shoes for just one minute?"

Laura sighed. "Fine, you never listen to anyone but yourself anyway." Her tail swished. "I don't even know what I should pack."

Jenny stared. "How did you do that?"

Laura turned around. "Huh? Do what?"

"Your tail just moved."

Laura frowned. "Jenny, stop making stuff up, okay?"

"Why would I make that up?"

"To keep torturing me?"

"I wish you'd stop thinking I want to hurt you," Jenny said in a subdued voice.

"Okay, forget I said that," Laura said. "Did you have something you really wanted to talk to me about, or did you come in here just to gripe?"

Jenny glanced at the travel bag. "This is easy for you, isn't it? Pulling up stakes and going somewhere else."

Laura snorted. "This coming from someone who narrates every road trip as if it were some magical adventure, at least until Mom gets tired of it and tells you to shut up. How is this any different?"

"Maybe some of us actually like it here."

Laura tilted her head. "Are you saying you do?"

"Yeah," said Jenny. "It's a great setting."

"You've said that about every town we've been in."

"Well, maybe I like the people, too."

Laura smirked. "You want to reconsider that statement?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You irritate the shit out of everyone."

"Not everyone."

Laura considered. "Is this about James?"

Jenny blushed faintly but said nothing.

Laura smiled. "Is James your boyfriend now?"

"Maybe," Jenny muttered. "Sorta. Kinda. I don't know."

"I thought he wasn't allowed to see you anymore," said Laura.

"We've been talking over the phone," said Jenny. "Late at night after his mother's gone to bed so she doesn't know. We have some ideas to get around the problem."

Laura had to admit to being a bit jealous. She had no boyfriend, but not from lack of prospects. She knew of several boys who would go out with her in a heartbeat, but she hadn't wanted to start a relationship that she had to break off when they had to move again. "I don't know what to tell you, Jenny," Laura said in a soft voice.

Jenny shrugged and glanced at Laura. "Are you really going to leave that tail out?"

"I don't have a choice," said Laura. "It's too thick to hide anymore."

"Why are you even going to school? Mom offered to let you stay home."

"I'd tell you, but you'd just get upset."

"The whole responsibility thing?"

"Yes," said Laura. "Maybe you should try it sometime."

Jenny paused for a long moment. "So, you finally gonna tell me what the hell you were talking about yesterday on the trail?"

Laura frowned. "I already did, and you claimed you didn't remember it. What's the point?"

"Maybe because I really don't remember it?"

Laura shook her head and turned away. "Just forget it."

Jenny bolted to her feet and marched up to her sister. "No, I won't forget it. You called me a liar yesterday. Maybe I do like poking you, but I don't lie just to make you feel bad."

Laura bit her lip as she looked into her sister's eyes. "I just ... all right. It was when you were five. We lived in the house in Scottsbluff. Mom and Dad had to take Bob to the urgent care clinic because he was sick and his fever had gone way up. They left me in charge of you. They got delayed, and the weather went south. A supercell came over the town. I ... I didn't know what to do. Well, no, I did, but ... anyway, the weather got worse and worse. You were scared shitless."

Jenny gave Laura a nonplussed look. "I was?"

"You couldn't stop crying and you begged me to make it stop. When I finally remembered that we had to get to the basement, you were huddled under the coffee table too scared to move. The hail had smashed all the windows and there were shards of glass everywhere. I didn't have the strength to drag you out of there." Laura took a shuddering breath. "If I had figured it out earlier when you were still coherent, I--"

"Laura, I don't remember any of that," Jenny said. "I'm dead serious. I'm drawing a complete blank."

"Jenny, a tornado came through our block!" Laura cried. "It destroyed the home five houses down! If that had come through our house when I couldn't get you into the basement--"

"I don't remember."

Laura fell silent. She stared into her sister's eyes as if expecting this would provide some insight, but Jenny still played her emotional cards close to the vest. Either that, or Laura was incapable of disentangling what she believed Jenny should be feeling and what she really felt.

"Fine," Laura said in a soft, flat voice. "You don't remember. I guess we don't need to talk about it anymore." She glanced at the travel bag. "I have to finish packing and get ready for school. Is there anything else you wanted?"

Jenny hesitated, then shook her head.

"Then maybe you should leave me to it."

Jenny stood and headed towards the door. After she stepped into the hallway, she paused and turned around. "Look, uh, whatever happened, I'm sure you were trying to help. I mean, we're alive, right? That's the main thing."

Laura forced a small smile. "Yeah, I guess."

Jenny nodded. "Right. I'll see you later."

Jenny fled before Laura could say another word.





In a small town like Lazy Pines, plowing the streets was generally limited to the major thoroughfares and emergency routes. Everything else had to get packed down by repeated travel, or sometimes a local resident would hitch a plow to his pickup and help with the effort. The latter generally happened only in early to mid winter, when the snow was light and fluffy; Colorado spring snow could easily snap the blade right off such an amateur setup.

Thus Kevin took advantage of municipal priorities and paid a visit to the police chief in person that morning, which would allow time for the other streets to clear. Upon arrival, he was ushered into an office in the back and left waiting for fifteen minutes before a somewhat short but barrel-chested man entered the room, his dark hair graying at the edges, and his uniform smelling faintly of cigarettes. John Barrows gave Kevin's hand a firm shake. "You got something for me this morning, Doc?"

The man's New York accent seemed even thicker in person, and Kevin would have to pay attention to catch every word. "Actually, I was wondering if you could do something for me."

John sat down behind his desk. "If it means helping get to the bottom of the weird shit that's been happening in town, yeah, I'll do my best."

"What can you tell me about Fred Turner?"

John's brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. "You oughta already know what the townsfolk say about him."

"That's he's a crazy prepper who thinks the government is out to get him."

"Pretty much. We get complaints about him sometimes, but nothing substantial. He tends to keep to himself and hasn't been cited for anything worse than minor parking infractions." John smirked and shook his head. "We get people almost as crazy as him wanting us to run 'im outta town. We gotta explain to them that this ain't the wild west." John leaned forward. "So what's with all the interest in him, Doc?"

"His daughter brought him in to see me yesterday," said Kevin. "I believe he may be the source of these strange symptoms, or at least he was the first to develop them."

John's bushy eyebrows rose. "Huh. So he's sorta patient zero?"

That term had fallen out of favor in scientific circles in favor of "index case", but Kevin decided not to waste time trying to educate the police chief in proper nomenclature. "You could say that. He wouldn't let me fully examine him. I'm wondering if there's anything you can do."

John uttered a windy sigh and took off his hat, scratching his head. "As much as I wanna get to the bottom of this mess, I gotta respect the man's rights. Unless I have at least a search warrant, or I've got some sorta probable cause, I can't do very much. Mebbe if someone had the old coot committed, then a judge could give me an order to root him out of there."

Kevin had a feeling this would not be easy. "So short of declaring him some sort of public menace, there's little you can do."

"Pretty much. Where he keeps to himself, he's sorta already quarantined himself." John set his hat back on his head and leaned forward. "I mean, is this guy some sorta modern Typhoid Mary? Is he gonna start spreading this around if he comes outta there?"

"I have a feeling the damage has already been done," said Kevin. "While I do have to consider the possibility that he's contagious, what I really want to see him for is to determine the exact extent and progression of this affliction so I can better report my findings to a higher authority."

"So is he worse off than anyone in town?"

"By quite a bit, yes."

"How far has it gone?" John asked.

"He has the discolored hair, eyes, and a tail. His ears have also migrated to the top of his head, he has fur on his legs, and his feet appear to have become horse-like hooves."

John stared at Kevin and slowly leaned back in his seat. "Doc, coming from anyone else, and I'd say you were outright shitting me."

"I wish I were, Chief Barrows," said Kevin. "But that's what I saw."

John drummed his thick fingers against the desk. "All right, let's lay this on the table, 'kay? You're tellin' me that the townsfolk are turning into colorful horses. You realize how batshit insane that sounds?"

"That's exactly what I don't want, Chief," said Kevin. "Is people jumping to conclusions and getting panicked. I don't know what the end state is yet."

"Why the hell isn't the government doing something about this crazy shit?"

"I submitted a report to the Colorado Department of Health," said Kevin, "But they've been swamped with flu cases. I put in a call to them last night, and I was told I would be contacted today. Until then, I didn't want to just sit on my hands. Even if you can't help me with Turner, at least you have a heads-up."

John nodded, his brows knitting in thought. "Yeah, thanks for that." John stood. "All right, lemme warn my officers that we may be sitting on a powder keg if people in town start getting worse. I'll let 'em in on this half-horse man. Hopefully they won't think I've taken a leave of my senses, at least until they get a gander at him themselves."

"You think you can do that?" said Kevin.

"I'll find some excuse to send some officers to check on him. If we see him in town, we'll see if we can get him into the hospital."

"Turner's daughter reported feeling an odd sensation while she was in his home," said Kevin. "It could mean some sort of toxicity, but her symptoms were very nonspecific."

"I'm gonna hafta call that one into the state," said John. "Lemme see what I can do."

Kevin stood. "Thank you, Chief Barrows, I appreciate you taking this seriously."

"Just keep me in the loop, Doc, that's all I ask."





Laura stared at the clock as it crept towards a quarter past the hour, then at the empty desk at the head of the classroom. She sighed and leaned her head against her left hand while her right hand drew lazy circles with her pen in her notebook. Her tail lay across her lap, not so much to stop people from gawking at it as to prevent it from trailing on the floor and getting dirty.

Not that it stopped people from staring, even if out of the corner of their eyes when they thought Laura wouldn't notice. She had braced herself for teasing, but none had been forthcoming. If anything, people looked on with worry. All that was said to her directly was when a timid boy with dark violet hair and cyan eyes tentatively asked, "Did it hurt when it came in?"

Laura put down her pen and glanced around. About a quarter of the seats were still empty, yet enough students were present for conversation to rise to a continuous drone of words that she sought not to focus on despite hearing the name "Turner" more than once. The last thing she wanted was to hear something that would upset her more than she already was.

She lowered her head and folded her hands over them, her thoughts drifting back to the conversation with Jenny that morning. Had her sister truly not remembered that storm? Would she really keep stringing Laura along like this for her own amusement?

Laura's head jerked up when she heard the door open, hoping her silent plea had been heard and the class would finally start. Her hope was dashed when she saw it was the Vice Principal, his hair almost completely bright amber. "Everyone, please, be quiet!" He called out. Once the conversation had dulled to a murmur, he continued, "Your teacher has called in sick. In fact, we're short a number of faculty. We have to rearrange the class schedule a bit. Right now, I need all of you in the auditorium. Let's go."

Laura's tail twitched as she stood and gathered her things. The last thing she had wanted was a break from the routine. Classwork would help distract her from her thoughts. She closed her satchel and slung it over her shoulder, wincing slightly at the brief flare of pain that speared her shoulder from her upper back.

The hallway was a sea of students whose mutual tide washed them steadily to the auditorium. Laura spotted more students with full tails. One she envied for her flair for sewing. Instead of a ragged hole, she had a neatly-hemmed opening, and a button to secure it at the top above the base of the tail.

She considered introducing herself, a thought that would have been foreign to her a few days ago. She shook her head nonetheless, though she pledged to remember what the girl looked like. With her red hair streaked with a single stripe each of orange and pink, it would be hard to forget.

Upon arriving in the auditorium, she glanced up at the seats. They were still sparsely populated, and she caught sight of Tina easily. Tina waved, and Laura edged on ahead through the crowd and climbed up to Tina's row.

"So was your teacher a no-show as well?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Laura paused over her seat in mid-bend of her legs. She twisted her hips, and her tail gave several weak flicks.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Tina asked warily.

Laura sighed and swept her tail out of the way with her arm before sitting down. "Jenny said she saw my tail move on its own this morning. I hoped maybe I could figure out how to move it myself."

"Please, don't go making this any more creepy than it already is."

"If I'm going to be stuck with this, gaining some control over it might make me feel better."

"You haven't heard the rumor?" Tina asked.

"I've been trying not to," said Laura. "I don't need to be more upset than I already am."

"Your doctor saw Turner yesterday."

Laura hesitated when she realized that Tina's comment had been a statement rather than a question. "Well, yeah, he said he was going to see Turner. How did you know?"

"Laura, I think you need to hear this," said Tina.

"Not if it's going to upset me!" Laura cried. "I've managed to get myself back on an even keel and don't need--"

She was interrupted when James rushed up to them, his gait slightly awkward. "Have either of you seen Jenny?"

"Jenny was inside her classroom when I passed it on the way here," said Tina. "She must've been one of the unlucky ones to have her teacher show up."

"I really need to talk to her."

"What's the matter?" Laura asked.

"I want to know if she was the one who started the rumor," James said.

"Laura hasn't heard the rumor yet," said Tina.

Laura ran a hand through her hair. "All right, fine, just what is this rumor?"

"That we're all turning into some sort of horse-like creatures," said James in a flat voice.

Laura's blood ran cold.

"I wonder if Jenny had mentioned what she saw on Turner's land," said James.

"Jenny didn't start it," Tina said. "Someone at school here caught a glimpse of him when he was leaving Doctor Conner's office yesterday. He said Turner had freaking hooves instead of feet."

Laura shivered, and her tail twitched.

"Jenny didn't want to believe Turner's ears were real at first," said James in a low voice. "But after hearing this--"

"No, stop it, just stop it!" Laura exploded. "This is stupid. This isn't some dumb fantasy conjured up by Jenny, this is real life! People don't change into animals in real life!"

James frowned. "Well, maybe I'd be a little more apt to believe you if I didn't wake up with my own tail this morning."

Tina glanced past him and smirked. "So, you gonna continue to be the strong, silent type, or you gonna sit down and join the fun?"

Laura leaned forward. "Bob? How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you talking about the rumor," said Bob. He hesitated before taking the empty seat next to Tina despite James still standing in front of it.

"Bob, you're the science type," said Laura. "Isn't this whole thing about turning into horses kind of out there?"

"Well, technically, it wouldn't be horses," said Bob. "More like ponies."

"I beg your pardon?" Tina said.

"Horses are big animals. An adult horse typically stands about as tall as a human. Ponies are bred to be smaller. Laura has been getting shorter."

Tina stared at Laura. "I thought I noticed you looking shorter, but I didn't want to say anything."

James took a seat next to Bob. "Fine, ponies, then. What about Laura's question?"

"Well, yeah, it's not normal," said Bob. "I can't even fathom how it would be possible. But you can't deny what's been happening. Laura can't eat meat anymore, and equines are generally herbivores, but what's odd about that is--"

James' eyes widened. "I've been having trouble eating meat since the eye color came in!"

"Wait, Bob, what was that?" said Laura. "What's odd?"

"What's odd is your complete aversion to meat," said Bob. "Equines are not strictly herbivores. They're capable of digesting meat. They don't have a revulsion to it like you had last night."

Tina ran both her hands through her hair. "Okay, you're all freaking me out right now."

"Why?" Laura said crossly. "You don't have this."

"Yet!"

"Look, this is dumb. Why couldn't Turner have been wearing a costume or something?"

"Oh, come on, Laura!" James snapped. "You can't seriously be clinging to that still!"

"Why would he do that?" asked Bob.

"Because he's a crazy prepper!" Laura said. "He's insane! I'd sooner believe that than what you want us to believe!"

Tina covered her eyes with a hand for a moment. "All right, everyone, calm the fuck down. Whatever this is, someone's going to have to do something about it. I looked on my tumblr this morning. This tail thing went totally viral overnight. It's going to be all over the internet by the weekend."

"I just thought of something," said Laura. She picked up her tail. "Maybe I don't know a lot about horses or ponies, but I sure as hell know they don't have hair color like this. Or most of the colors I've seen."

"Well, yeah, you're right," said Bob. "There's a limited number of biochemicals that cause hair color across most species. That also goes for fur and eye color." He looked around. "This is well outside the norm."

Tina craned her neck and pointed. "Hey, what's going on?"

The trickle of students through the doors of the auditorium had become a flood. James picked out a bright pink head from the crowd. He stood and waved until Jenny looked up and saw him.

Jenny bolted up the stairs and fell into the seat next to James. "So, you have a tail now?"

James rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "Yeah, I do."

"Sorry to hear that," she said in a subdued voice.

Laura leaned forward. "Jenny, what's going on?"

"Beats the hell out of me," said Jenny. "Principal barged into the classroom and said everyone had to go to the auditorium for an important announcement. I spotted some cops in the hallway."

Laura's eyes widened. "Cops?? Are we on some sort of lock-down?"

"They'd keep us in the classrooms if that was the case," said Bob.

The principal entered the auditorium, his hair an even chocolate brown with a gentle wave to it. Walking along with him was a police officer. They conferred for a few minutes as the last arriving students settled into their seats. The principal parted from him and headed to the podium. He tapped the mike a few times to test it. "All right, please, everyone, settle down."

"Really hope this is not some sort of lame pep talk," Tina muttered.

"Thank you," said the principal. "First of all, the police department has requested I make this announcement. Signs will be posted in town to this effect, but Chief Barrows thought it best we get the word out as soon as possible. Starting today, and until further notice, a strict curfew will be imposed. Six PM for all people eighteen and younger--"

"Oh, come on!" someone above them yelled.

"Why are they picking on us?!" another voice rang out.

"That's enough!" the principal snapped. "As I was saying, six PM for those eighteen and younger unless accompanied by an adult, and nine PM for everyone else. Curfew lasts until five AM. All questions and complaints should be directed to the police department and not the school administration."

"Okay, someone knows something we don't," said Tina. "Either that, or they're getting as scared as some of us are."

"It's a typical action to take to maintain order," said Bob.

"But that assumes there's going to be disorder soon."

The principal turned from the mike to confer with the police officer. Finally, the officer nodded before heading away. "Now, on to the original announcement. We have had a number of instructors go on extended sick leave as of this morning."

"Likely the ones sporting tails," Tina muttered. "Wusses."

Laura took that as a subtle compliment and smiled faintly.

"This leaves us critically short, and we're hard-pressed to cover all classes," said the Principal. "Therefore, we need to reorganize the schedule and potentially combine classes for the same subject that normally would be on different time rotations. We're also looking for help from neighboring communities for substitute teachers. We'll be drawing up an interim class schedule and posting copies on all the announcement boards. This will take us some time to complete, and we ask that you remain seated here and keep your conversation low until we're done."

"Why can't they just cancel school for today?" Jenny grumped.

James grinned. "Look at it this way. We'll at least get a little time together."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Though I really wish it was some other setting."

"I bet you could come up with something."

Jenny considered. "You mean like the Fae Queen sending the Royal Guard to keep everyone in their homes at night, since that's when her bursts of uncontrolled magic are--"

"Will you two hush?!" Laura whisper-shouted. "He's saying something else!"

"--to address another issue," said the principal in a stern voice. "And this concerns rumors. It's bad enough that we don't know what's happening, but it doesn't help to spread outlandish stories."

"I saw him myself!" a boy in the second row shouted. "He was right there plain as--"

"I said that's enough," the principal declared. "The next person to make an outburst like that gets immediate detention. I don't care what you think you saw. We don't need people panicking over what may or may not be true. Wait until you hear some sort of official word."

"Yeah, and denial is not just a river in Egypt," Tina muttered.

"I can't blame him for not wanting to incite panic," said Bob.

"He's just doing this to make himself feel better, so he doesn't panic."

"You might be right, but--"

"Shhh!" Laura hissed.

"Until we hear something from official channels, speculation will get us nowhere," said the principal. "I know you're all anxious to have this figured out, but rumormongering is not the way to do it. Now, I ask that you all remain seated except to use the rest rooms until we announce that classes are starting."

The principal left the podium. At once, an urgent murmur of conversation rose.

Jenny stood. "James, we have some time before class starts. Let's find some seats that are not so close to everyone else, and we can expand on the Royal Guard idea."

James shrugged and stood as well. "Might as well. Beats sitting here worrying."

Tina frowned as they left. "Is she taking this seriously at all?"

"I've given up trying to figure her out," said Laura. She stood. "I really need to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a bit."

"Jenny did seem to be taking it more seriously for a while," said Bob after Laura left.

"I don't like this," Tina said. "Some people are acting like they're waiting for someone to swoop in and fix everything."

"Isn't that all we can do at the moment?"

Tina's eyes darted among the crowd. "I did that whole thing yesterday with getting people to post pics of their tails, and now I feel like I've done nothing."

"But you said it went viral."

"I know." Tina was quiet for a moment. "It didn't stop my parents from waking up with weird hair this morning."

"I'm sorry," said Bob softly.

Tina forced a smile. "So, um, they got the flu a week before me. I guess that means I better mark next Friday on my calendar."

"It might not happen."

Tina shook her head. "No, I'm not going to go into denial over this. Hopefully someone will figure it out before then, but if not, I'm not going to pretend this won't happen." She paused. "What about you?"

"Tuesday the earliest, next Friday the latest," Bob replied immediately.

Tina snorted. "Admit it. You had that figured out long before now."

"Yes. As soon as I realized that the hair color had followed the same order as the flu."

Tina smiled. "Depending on what happens, we may need someone as crazy prepared as you."

Bob managed a smile, but he felt no more prepared than the people who were already suffering from this strange affliction.





Kevin rushed to the door of the examination room before spinning around and blurting out, "I'm really sorry about the interruption, but this is rather critical. I'll be right back." He closed the door behind him and met Heather in the hall. "When did it come in?"

"Less than a minute ago," said Heather. "Line two."

Kevin ran into his office, Heather slipping in after him and closing the door behind them. Kevin fell into his chair as he grabbed the receiver. He punched the button hard. "This is Doctor Conner."

A female voice answered him. "This is Doctor Sandra Marlowe with the Colorado Department of Health."

Kevin leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I've been waiting to hear from someone since yesterday morning."

"I apologize for the delay, but we've been very busy with the sudden influenza spike."

"If you've read my report, you can see why I'm so concerned about a possible flu link," said Kevin. "Especially with the data I added about Fred Turner."

"I'll be perfectly blunt, Doctor Conner," said Sandra in a flat voice. "We find that last bit to be a head-scratcher to say the least. If we had this report in isolation, we'd be a lot more skeptical."

Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right, give me the bottom line. Of the symptoms I reported, which ones do you accept without question?"

"The discolored hair and eyes, posterior hair growth, loss of height, and aversion to meat," said Sandra. "These have been corroborated by other physicians in Lazy Pines, and they've shown up on social media. The hair growth in particular has virtually exploded overnight."

"And of the other symptoms concerning my potential index case?"

"So far, you're the only one who's reported them."

Kevin frowned. "That's not what I mean. I want to know whether you're taking it seriously or not."

"That's another reason for this call, Doctor Conner," said Sandra. "I want to make absolutely sure we understand your report, since you've effectively described anatomical impossibilities given our current knowledge of medicine and the relatively short time the symptoms appeared. It's one thing to state that someone has a condition that makes their feet resemble hooves -- which could be explained by a degenerative bone or joint disease -- but you stated they looked almost exactly like horse-hooves."

"I stand by what I reported, Doctor Marlowe," Kevin declared. "I was rather surprised myself, but I can't deny what my own eyes are telling me."

"Photographs would have really helped," said Sandra.

"I noted he was a reluctant patient," said Kevin. "What of the ears and fur?"

Heather shifted uneasily and clutched the folders to her chest more tightly.

"The fur could be an unusual overgrowth of body hair," said Sandra. "As for the ears, let me make sure I understand this fully as well. You described a condition where an amount of cartilage, flesh, and bone was spontaneous and perfectly reabsorbed in one part of the body only to appear in another, in a different form, and in a fully functional state."

"Admittedly, I didn't test his auditory acuity," said Kevin. "I based my assessment on the fact that he could clearly hear me and that his ears, despite their abnormal shape and position, appeared symmetrical."

"And you're sure that neither the hooves nor ears are congenital conditions?"

"Positive," said Kevin firmly. "I had examined him when he was healthy about a year ago. He had none of these abnormalities whatsoever."

Kevin heard a faint tapping noise and assumed it was a pen or something similar against a desk. "Doctor Conner, do you have any other test results that you can send us?"

"I assume you already pulled the reports for the hair samples," said Kevin. "I have outstanding general spectrum blood work I ordered on several patients who have the posterior hair growth."

"What lab did you send them to?"

Kevin told her. "They said they're rather far behind."

Sandra began typing. "We'll contact them and get them to expedite those tests. For any further lab work related to this condition, I want you to send them directly to our labs for faster turnaround."

Kevin let out a sigh of relief. "So you will take this seriously."

"Despite the lack of confidence in the symptoms concerning the ears and hooves, there is enough corroborated data on the other symptoms to be of intense immediate concern," Sandra intoned. "That's the official word of the Colorado Department of Health. Unofficially, the idea that the hooves and ears could be true frankly scares the crap out of us."

"I'm doing everything in my power to get you more information," said Kevin. "But Mr. Turner is a reluctant patient. He refuses to be examined further."

"Of course he does," said Sandra in a sour voice.

"But if he's indicative of symptoms to come, we're going to have no shortage of others in his condition soon, and I'm worried about how people are going to react."

"One more question for you, Doctor Conner," said Sandra. "During the flu outbreak, did you have any lab tests done to identify the subtype?"

"Once I saw how many people were coming down with it, yes," said Kevin. "All tests came back as H1N1, same variety that was making the rounds this flu season."

"The hospital reported the same."

"You can see my concern if there is a flu link," said Kevin. "H1N1 has had a nasty habit of getting out of control in the past."

"We have two possibilities," said Sandra. "One, we're dealing with some strange variant of influenza. Two, this is a new opportunistic disease that took advantage of depressed immune systems."

"I'd prefer the latter," said Kevin. "The spread would be more limited in scope. With luck, it might have burned itself out already, but I wouldn't bet money on it."

"Still, proving a flu link is going to be difficult beyond simple correlation of symptom timelines," said Sandra. "The CDC has been tracking the influenza spike for the past week. They've already run RT-PCR tests on patients. That test nailed the culprit of the 2009 outbreak. It's showing absolutely no variation from the H1N1 that's been going around for months. In a nutshell: influenza should not be causing this."

"I think it would be both foolish and dangerous to assume no link based on that," said Kevin. "The appearance of both the influenza spike and this new disease is too much of a coincidence for my liking."

"I agree, Doctor Conner, but we need to decide how to best allocate our resources," said Sandra. "So we'll consider this an unknown but potentially infectious disease, and that those who have had the flu may be more susceptible. In the meantime, we're asking physicians to run a new set of influenza tests on patients with this disease. If flu is causing this, there has to be an active infection we can detect."

"I'll start doing that at once," said Kevin. "What about declaring a public health emergency?"

"Our criteria generally rely on both infection rates and estimated lethality. Thus far, we have zero reported deaths from this new influenza spike or from this new condition. However, these new symptoms are unusual enough -- and the possibilities worrisome enough -- that we'll institute one."

"All right," said Kevin. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"It will take another day for an official public response, as we need to coordinate with the Governor's office, law enforcement, and the CDC," said Sandra. "In the meantime, we recommend voluntary self-isolation where feasible to slow its spread."

"That's going to be difficult," said Kevin. "I've seen entire families affected."

"As I said, where feasible. We're also going to ask that you keep statements to the press to a minimum. This is not to censor you or suppress information, this is to allow a coordinated official response to the public to minimize panic."

"You don't have to tell me twice, Doctor Marlowe," said Kevin. "I've been wrestling with the same issue."

"Thank you for both your understanding and your patience, Doctor Conner," said Sandra.

"What about Fred Turner?" said Kevin. "He could prove valuable in determining the extent of this condition, and there's a chance it may have started with him."

"He definitely needs to be isolated in case he's still contagious," said Sandra. "Normally, forcefully isolating someone is an uphill civil rights battle unless he has a disease from a specific list. We generally rely on voluntary isolation, which seems to be the case here. However, this is a very unique case, and his mental state is questionable."

"I'd much rather he be isolated at a medical facility where he can be fully examined," said Kevin. "But I have no legal recourse in that regard."

"But we do, and we're going to push hard for taking him into custody. For now, isolation is most critical."

"What's the chance it will expand into a full isolation of the town?" Kevin asked. "Or quarantine, for that matter?"

"It's on the table," said Sandra. "We're debating the scope right now. Do you have any other questions for me before we conclude this call?"

Kevin rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "No, I think we about covered it."

"I'll touch base with you tomorrow, Doctor Conner," said Sandra.

"Thank you, Doctor Marlowe." Kevin hung up and glanced up at Heather.

Heather uttered a long sigh. "Dare I ask?"

"They're going to declare a public health emergency," said Kevin. "To me, that means they're taking it seriously. How are you holding up?"

Heather smiled humorlessly and turned around. Several streaks of sparkling cyan reached up the back of her head. "If nothing else, at least people have been commenting that it looks nice."

Kevin smiled faintly and stood. "I'm hoping someone will get this figured out."

"Maybe you should hedge your bets," said Heather. "Trade in your medical license for a veterinary license."

Kevin sighed. "That's not really very funny."

"I know, it's gallows humor, but it helps me cope," said Heather. "You better get back to your patient. We have a full docket today and then some."

> Chapter 16 - Revelations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset Glow had tried to put on a brave face for her family, but it had taken only a few minutes with her son and granddaughter for her to break down into tears. Night held a comforting foreleg around his mother, his eyes bleary from having been up for most of the night.

"Sh-she lied to me," Glow moaned. "Right there in the th-throne room, she lied to me, Nighty!"

"I know," Night Light said, his voice quavering.

"I-I don't care what Sunset did. I don't care what mistakes she made. Nothing deserved being made to just disappear like she never existed! I didn't even have a chance to m-mourn for her before I was made to forget her."

Night squeezed his eyes shut. "And now it feels like it all just happened yesterday."

Twilight let out a slow, anguished sigh. She wished she knew the right words to say. She could only look on with an aching heart.

Glow closed her eyes, but tears continued to drip. "It does feel like that. I still can't believe our little Sunny is dead."

Twilight swallowed hard when her throat started to close up. She turned away, only to have her mother's hoof gently touch her shoulder. "I'm all right," Twilight said in a choked voice.

Velvet drew her daughter into a hug. "You don't look all right, Twily."

Twilight drew in a deep breath and let it out as a rattling sigh. "I feel like I caused my whole family such pain just because I wanted to know the truth."

"No, Twilight," said Shimmering as he stepped up to them. "You were just revealing a pain that was already there. Frankly, I ..." He glanced over to his wife, his eyes glistening. "I think this is for the best."

Twilight smiled faintly as she broke off the embrace. "I really hope it will be."

"Make no mistake, right now I'm very angry with Princess Celestia," said Shimmering. "She had no right to do this."

"I'm really hoping there's a good explanation," Twilight said. "Not an excuse, but an explanation. Celestia already realizes she's done the wrong thing."

"Honestly, Twily," said Velvet. "You know I tend not to express any displeasure towards anypony, especially the diarchs, but you would think Princess Celestia would learn by now what happens when she withholds information from you!"

Twilight sighed. "Please, Mom, let's not go there again. Not after all this time."

"I think I have every right to go there," Velvet declared. "I don't care how capable you were at the time, the Princess sent you to deal with her sister who she knew was very dangerous at the time, and giving you very little preparation or information. And that's not the last time she did that. Back when you--"

"Mom, please, stop!" Twilight cried. "I don't want to deal with this right now. I've got enough on my mind as it is."

Velvet sighed and lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, Twily, I'm just at my wits' end right now."

"You're in good company," said Twilight in a low voice. "You're not the only one dealing with memories they never knew they had."

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get that," Twilight said.

Opening the door revealed Starlight Glimmer. "You ready to head over to the palace, Twilight?"

"In a minute," said Twilight. "Please, come in."

Starlight trotted past her but quickly came to a halt. "Um, did I come at a bad time?"

"There really isn't any good time right now," said Twilight.

"Starlight," said Velvet. "Twily told me how much you've been a big help to her in all this. Please accept my thanks."

Starlight blushed. "Oh, um, you're welcome."

Twilight turned towards the others. "I have to go now. I promise, I'll let you know everything I find out. Shining Armor is on his way. He'll be here this afternoon."

Velvet and Night both smiled faintly. "He's welcome to stay in his old room," said Velvet.

"It will be good to see little Shiny again," said Glow. "I hope he's dealing with this better than I am."

"I'm sure he can help everypony deal with this better," said Twilight. She turned to Starlight. "Let's go."





The silence was leaden as Celestia poured tea for her guests. Arranged before her were Luna, Starlight, Spike, Twilight, and Twilight's friends. Celestia looked a bit bleary herself. She glanced at the others and tried not to think that their eyes were those of judgment, that they were merely curious and anxious for her to begin.

Celestia set down the tea kettle. "Twilight, perhaps it would be best if you tell me what memories you now have of Sunset Shimmer."

"I know she was my aunt," said Twilight in a soft voice. "And that she was your student, and she was very powerful. She used to foal-sit me, but my parents insisted she stop when they feared she would be a bad influence on me. It led to an argument between my parents and my grandparents."

"Bad influence?" Rainbow said.

Twilight cast her gaze downward. "She tried to teach me ideas that ... well ... let's just say they weren't very conducive to Harmony when you really took a close look at them. It started with her being a very staunch loyalist of Celestia."

"An' that's bad how?" said Applejack.

"Because she took it to an extreme," said Celestia. "I blame myself for not seeing it, for mistaking it as simple loyalty to me."

Twilight raised her gaze to the others. "She thought Celestia's reach should extend over the whole world. She thought all sapient species should be ruled by her."

Fluttershy flicked her gaze over to Celestia. "Um, but Princess Celestia has always been a benevolent ruler. How would that be bad? I mean, assuming they did it willingly."

Rarity's eyes widened. "Unless she didn't care about their willingness! Did Sunset advocate war to achieve this aim?"

"Of Sunset's failings, advocating bloodshed was not among them," said Celestia. "If anything, she abhorred violence in any form. Perhaps her desire to see my rule extended over other lands would not be so upsetting if it were not part of a greater and more disturbing belief. Do you remember now, Twilight?"

"I remember," Twilight said quietly. "Though at the time I thought it innocent enough. It's only when I take a step back that I can see the implications."

"So what did she tell ya that was so bad?" Applejack asked.

Twilight's eyes glistening slightly. "She kept telling me how grateful we should be to be ponies, and how lucky we were to have somepony like Celestia to rule us."

After an exchange of confused glances, Rarity spoke up. "I'm sorry, but I'm not really seeing the problem. I'm sure there are many ponies who believe as such."

"I've always been grateful for Princess Celestia's rule," said Fluttershy.

"That was not all she told you, was it, Twilight?" Celestia asked in a somber voice.

Twilight shook her head slowly. "She went on to suggest that it would be better if she had more ponies under her rule. She implied that an entire world of ponies, all loyal to Celestia, would be an ideal situation."

"But what in tarnation does that actually mean?" said Applejack.

"It appeared she thought ponies better than other species," said Celestia.

Applejack exchanged a confused look with the others. "Ya mean how we can do some kinds of magic that they can't? That sorta thing?"

"I suspect it runs deeper than that," said Luna. "My sister and I remember a time when the pony tribes were still at odds with one another. Each thought themselves superior -- physically, mentally, and morally -- to the other tribes."

"But that kind of thinking was tossed out a long time ago!" Pinkie said.

"As it should be," said Celestia. "Which is why I am still mystified as to how Sunset obtained this belief. She did not get it from me, nor her instructors, and certainly not from her family."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Are ya sure somepony didn't make an honest mistake? Did she ever come out and say ponies were better?"

"No, she never did," said Twilight. "But that was what I started to form in my own head the more I listened to her."

"Come on, Twi, you'd never believe something like that!" Rainbow declared.

"You don't understand, Rainbow," said Twilight in a soft voice. "I was very young and impressionable at the time. I remember how absolutely enthralling it was to listen to her. I idolized her. I would believe almost anything she told me by that point."

Rarity gasped. "And now that you remember those beliefs, does that mean you're in danger of--"

"No," said Twilight firmly. Spike smiled at her, and she wrapped a wing around him, drawing him close. "The idea of friendship -- across all species -- is too firmly ingrained in me for a set of childhood memories to change that. But it's scary to think how I might have turned out if things had gone differently. Would I have treated Spike badly because he was a dragon?"

"Aw, I can't see any version of you ever doing that," said Spike.

Twilight's eyes misted, and she hugged Spike tightly.

"Now you see one reason why I wiped memories as well as documentation on her, Twilight," said Celestia in a heavy voice. "When I sensed the incredible potential in you, I worried that these beliefs would taint you, and you'd make the same mistakes Sunset made."

Applejack frowned. "It still don't seem right ta mess with ponies' heads."

"If I had to do this over again, Applejack, I would find another way," said Celestia. "But I'm not here to excuse my actions, merely explain them. And there are other reasons I had done what I did."

"An' nopony had a clue she believed this stuff?"

"It is I who should have seen it first," said Celestia. "But I was blinded by my faith in her. She was truly a most capable unicorn. Like Twilight, she had discovered the so-called legend of Nightmare Moon and the existence of the Elements of Harmony."

Twilight's eyes widened. "She had??"

Celestia turned to Twilight. "Indeed. She even pressed me about the issue, even when I tried to defer. She was simply too forceful to be dissuaded." She paused. "No slight is intended, Twilight, but the fact of the matter is ... well ... Sunset was simply more assertive than you were."

Twilight smiled. "It's okay. I believe everything happened as it had to."

"Yes, it did, since I had lost my connection to the Elements by that time," said Celestia. "This was not something I would admit to Sunset, even though by then I had already foreseen that other bearers would be needed." She smiled faintly. "At the time, I was sure Sunset would be the future bearer of the Element of Magic, but that was not something I could reveal to her. I felt it was too early."

"What I don't understand is how the rest of my family never knew," said Twilight. "If she always had these beliefs, surely they would have come out sooner."

"It is puzzling, as the seeds were likely planted rather early," said Celestia. "As you stated, she believed my rule should extend into other lands, and she debated me on that point rather vigorously several times." She smiled. "Among all her other talents, she was an excellent debater, so much so that she managed to sway me just once."

"How did she do that?" Starlight asked.

"She prodded me into commencing with a final treaty with the minotaurs, as well as seeking an alliance with the Caribou Nation."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Those are two of the most famous treaties in recent history!"

Celestia smiled wanly. "Yes, and you have your aunt to thank for that. The minotaurs were already fairly ubiquitous in our society, having mass-emigrated here when the water sources in their homeland dried up. Having them swear fealty to the Crown took little effort. Sunset was immensely pleased, at least at first."

"At first?" said Starlight.

"I believe she expected more," said Celestia. "She wanted full integration of the caribous into Equestria, for one, but I knew they were too independent-minded for that. She eventually saw the integration of the minotaurs as 'not enough'."

"Not enough of what?" Starlight prompted.

"She wouldn't give me more explanation than that, other than what I had thought at the time to be an off-hoof comment. She had said 'this would be so much better if they were all ponies.'"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "And that didn't convince you that her beliefs were kinda out there?"

"Not yet," said Celestia. "It was only later I put it all together. Instead, at the time, I thought she had referred to the clash of cultures. Minotaur ways were not pony ways. There was some lingering friction that took time to smooth out."

"So can we cut to the chase?" said Starlight. "What exactly did Sunset do that was so bad? It couldn't be just her beliefs. You didn't go wiping me out of existence because of my crazy ideas about giving up cutie marks."

Celestia smiled. "You, dear Starlight, had the good fortune to be shown another way by somepony whose dedication to friendship and harmony is unparalleled."

Twilight blushed but smiled.

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "And, apparently, she is more accomplished than I."

"You mean you never turned Sunset around?" asked Pinkie in a sad voice.

"I tried. I always kept my heart open to her, but she had closed hers to me." Celestia paused. "But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me come back to Starlight's question, as it deserves an answer."

"Though I can guess this is where the griffons come in," said Luna.

"Yes, indeed. After Sunset's apparent disappointment over the minotaurs, I had come to the conclusion that Sunset simply needed more exposure to other cultures so she would truly understand my perspective. At the time, the griffons were going through a downturn, and I felt this was an opportunity for both them and Sunset. I thus opened formal diplomatic relations. To my delight, Sunset jumped at the chance to be assigned as an envoy."

"She must be the one Gilda mentioned," said Rainbow. "But nopony remembered her name."

"That was due to the dark magic spell," said Twilight. "But the fact that anypony could remember there had been an envoy at all meant the spell was already starting to fray."

"Sunset's enthusiasm both surprised and pleased me, even after I explained to her that she was to seek alliance and not annexation," said Celestia. "Since it dovetailed perfectly into signs I had seen that this was the direction Sunset needed to go, I felt I had made the right decision."

"What kind of signs?" Twilight asked.

Celestia hesitated. "Let me come back to that later, please. It is best you understand what happened first."

"Lemme guess," said Applejack. "Sunset got under the griffons' skin somethin' fierce."

"That's not real hard to do," Rainbow murmured.

"Things did go more slowly than I would have liked," said Celestia. "Yet Sunset seemed to be immersing herself in their culture as I had hoped. I had believed she simply needed more time."

Starlight frowned. "Or she was trying to justify her beliefs by finding more reasons to think ponies were better than griffons."

Celestia sighed. "That is exactly what I suspect happened, but I had no idea at the time."

"This here still ain't addin' up fer me," said Applejack. "Sounds like a lotta assumptions were bein' made."

"Then let me get to the heart of the matter," said Celestia. "As my concern over the situation with the griffons grew, Sunset finally approached me and stated that she had a plan to smooth things over and make the griffons our staunchest allies. When I had asked her what she had planned, she asked me to simply trust her." She paused. "Which I did."

"You accepted her idea sight unseen?" Twilight asked.

"Realize that by this time, she was quite advanced in her studies and had done nothing to suggest she had anything untoward in mind. I had little trouble in putting my continued faith in her." Celestia lowered her gaze. "I wish I had inquired further."

"Is this where her research into transformation magic comes in?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," said Applejack. "What does that hafta do with anythin'?"

Twilight turned to her. "Aunt Sunset was attempting to craft a permanent transformation spell. Given her beliefs, I think she wanted to transform the griffons into ponies."

"That's exactly what she was planning," said Celestia.

"But what I don't understand is how she planned to deliver the magic," said Twilight. "How did she overcome the problem of morphic resonance?"

Celestia paced across the room. "What I am about to reveal, please be very judicious as to whom you inform, at least until this crisis is over."

Twilight hesitated, but then nodded. "Very well."

The others nodded in agreement as well.

Celestia took a deep breath. "Sunset planned to deliver her spell by utilizing a virus."

Starlight blinked. "A what?!"

"Of course!" Twilight said. "Why didn't I think of that? It's the perfect vector!"

"Oh, come on!" Starlight cried. "Trying to use something so small--!"

"--would just be another challenge to somepony as talented as Aunt Sunset," Twilight declared. "I can already think of several ways that--"

"Ah, not to sound ungrateful, darling," said Rarity. "But could you explain it to those of us not as versed in such matters?"

"Without seeing her research, I can only make an educated guess," said Twilight. "The problem facing permanent transformation is the morphic resonance. That's a biomagical signature that defines what you are. The amount of magic needed to overcome it would normally kill the creature. Now, a virus works by injecting its genetic code into a cell and forcing it to replicate the virus. That's how you get sick with, say, pony pox. Sunset found a way to latch her spell onto a virus. My speculation is that as the virus replicated, so would the magic, which could be applied to changing the morphic resonance itself, effectively transforming the creature from the inside out. Moreover, the virus would spread, and hence the spell, to other creatures. It's like casting a spell once and having it replicate as much as needed. It's brilliant!" She paused and blushed. "Er ... terrible, but still brilliant."

"How did she plan to deliver this virus?" said Starlight.

"She planned to build a magical device," Celestia explained. "It would seek out a naturally occurring virus and apply her spell to it."

"And that's where the portal come in," declared Twilight.

"A portal?" said Rainbow. "What portal?"

"A portal that connects two widely separated points in space," Twilight explained. "It has longer range than teleportation. That's the anomaly in the building along Old Canterlot Way. It's the remains of a portal that Aunt Sunset had planned to use to deliver her device into the midst of the Griffon Kingdom."

Celestia paced again. "You are correct in your assessment of the anomaly, but not in the order of events. She did not start working on the portal -- in secret -- until later."

"So she didn't plan to use the portal to deliver the device?" Starlight asked.

"Sunset was still the envoy to the griffons," said Celestia. "She had no reason for subterfuge. In fact, she had crafted the device to appear as artwork that she intended to give to the griffons as a token of friendship, thus smoothing over relations in the short term until the virus had a chance to take hold."

"The implications of this are staggering," said Luna. "If it sought a common virus in the environment, it could be used against other species."

Spike's eyes widened. "You mean she could change dragons into ponies, too??"

"Nothing says that she could not," said Celestia. "And this was likely her plan if I had not stopped her. When I discovered what she had intended to do, I was ... shocked. Utterly shocked. If I had not seen her research for myself, I would not have believed it. I was forced to confront her. I demanded to know what her motivations were."

"Is this where she finally owned up to her beliefs?" asked Applejack.

Celestia turned to face her. She took a shuddering breath. "What she said I will never forget. She said: I did this to give you a better world, a world with all the ponies you need, all the ponies you deserve, a world in which nothing can touch you, nothing can hurt you, nopony can stand against you."

Twilight's ears drooped slightly, and her eyes took on a troubled look.

"That is the ultimate tragedy. Everything she did, and everything she planned to do was to further my glory." Celestia turned to Twilight. "Do you remember when you had your first meal with me as my student, Twilight?"

Twilight's ears rose, and she slowly smiled. "How could I forget? I was so nervous, it was like I had four left hooves."

Celestia smiled. "You tried to bow."

"And fell right on my muzzle. I don't think I ever blushed so hard in my life."

The others chuckled.

"What did I tell you then?" asked Celestia.

"That I never had to bow to you in private." Twilight's smile widened. "And not because I was so bad at it."

"I never wanted our relationship to be excessively formal," said Celestia. "That is a mistake I made with Sunset. I let protocol rule the day. She bowed to me even in private and even after she had developed a rapport with me."

"That's what I treasure most of all about our time together as teacher and student," said Twilight. "You were so approachable, despite my nervousness."

"You did look up to me, though," said Celestia. "Sometimes, you put me on a pedestal."

"Sometimes, but I got past that."

"You even idolized me."

Twilight nodded. "Yes, I did."

"But what you never did, Twilight, was worship me," said Celestia. "Sunset worshiped me. I later found a room in her residence that she had made into what can only be described as a shrine to me." She turned to the others. "Worship is something I do not want from anypony. I do not deserve it, and it makes ponies do things they normally would not think of doing, all in my name."

"I wanted worship once," said Luna in a somber voice. "And we all saw how that turned out."

"For the better in the end, dear sister," said Celestia. "I wished the same could have been said for Sunset. I naturally forbid Sunset from continuing her research, and I withdrew her as envoy to the griffons."

"Bet that didn't go over well," muttered Starlight.

"It did not. She continued her studies with me, but she became cool towards me, and cold and calculating towards others. Despite what she had almost done, I wanted to give her another chance, but she withdrew completely. She felt like I had utterly betrayed her." Celestia paused. "And against my wishes, she completed her research."

Twilight gasped. "She did? Did it even work?!"

Celestia's eyes burned. "She tested it on a young female griffon she kidnapped and successfully turned her into a pegasus filly. I did not find out what she had done until word of it somehow got back to the griffons. They were enraged. They threatened war immediately."

"Um, not that I think a war would've been a good thing," said Rainbow cautiously. "But Gilda said there was no way they could've stood up against Equestria."

"That is not the point," said Luna. "Just the idea that they felt they had been wronged enough by Equestria to declare war would have drawn attention from other nations."

"And they would have spread word of what Sunset had done," said Celestia. "And those who until then lived without a single worry that Equestria had designs on them would wonder if we had been lying all along, waiting for a chance to strike in a way they could not combat. They would fear that Sunset's beliefs were shared by me, or by ponykind in general. It is not that we would fail to prevail in such wars -- though the devastation that could be wrought by dragonkind makes me shudder -- it is that war is not the Equestrian way. It never has and never will be."

"Sorry to keep beatin' the point to death," said Applejack. "But could ya have explained it ta them?"

"Perhaps I could have," said Celestia in a despondent voice. "But all I could think of was that Sunset had introduced something that this world had never seen before and hopefully will never see again: the concept of biological warfare. Even if I had managed to placate them, I felt it would only be a matter of time before an arms race began to counter this terrible Equestrian 'weapon.'"

"Is that why the final treaty with the griffons was sealed?" Twilight asked.

"Yes," said Celestia. "Publicly, we never announced the true reason for the sudden bad relations. The treaty contained a secret clause, one which stipulated that I find a way to excise all knowledge of the magic behind Sunset's spell. I soon discovered to my chagrin that there was no partial way to do it. If I left anything behind, somepony could recreate her research, and the griffons knew this. Equestria would always be under their suspicious eyes. Worse, this left us open to blackmail were an opportunistic leader to take the throne."

Starlight's eyes widened. "So you erased everything about her? Even the griffons' own memories?"

"As I said, it was everything or nothing," said Celestia. "I thus had to wipe even their memory of that secret clause. Instead, the treaty simply became a means to smooth over the actions of an irritating envoy."

Twilight let out a shaky sigh. "I am so glad now that I hadn't tried to unravel the spell myself. I had planned to be careful, but if I had accidentally unraveled the entirety of that spell--"

Celestia nodded. "The griffons would likely be readying for war as we speak."

"But everything Dashie and I helped them with!" Pinkie said. "Wouldn't they consider that?"

Rainbow Dash rubbed a hoof through her mane. "Uh, hate to break this to you, Pinkie, but griffons are kinda notorious for holding grudges for a looong time."

Starlight held up a hoof. "Uh, hold on, there's something missing here. You couldn't have erased her existence before she was gone, could you? I mean, did she actually, well, die?"

Celestia paused a moment, her eyes tearing briefly. "Yes, she did die."

"I remember that," said Twilight in a hushed voice. "My grandparents came over one night, right after I had gone to bed. I was still awake. I was excited at first, thinking maybe my parents would get me up so I could say hi to them." She paused for a long moment. "Then I heard the crying. That was the first time I ever, ever heard my father cry. I was really scared. It could only be the end of the world. Just as I was about to leave my room, my mother came in and broke the news to me." Twilight swallowed. "I don't think I stopped bawling for something like an hour."

Spike gently placed a claw on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Twilight. I wish I had been there to help you."

Twilight swept him up into a tight hug and sniffled once.

Celestia swallowed. "If you must lay blame, Twilight, lay it squarely at my hooves. It was my failings and my foolishness that led us to this end."

"No, Celestia," said Twilight firmly. "I don't want to blame anypony. I just want to understand."

"You are not blameless, Tia," said Luna. "But neither are you the sole blame."

"Princess, ya can teach the young 'uns only so much," said Applejack. "It's up ta them if they listen to ya or not."

"Ponies choose to do stupid things all the time," said Starlight. "Believe me, if anypony knows that, it's me."

Celestia slowly smiled. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support, my little ponies. But to Twilight's point, let me conclude this tale. When the griffons threatened war, news eventually got back to Sunset's family of what she had been doing, though it was somewhat short on specifics. Sunset became a recluse, holing up in her residence on Old Canterlot Way."

"I don't remember that part," said Twilight. "I do remember the family becoming really tense. I knew something had happened, but they shielded me from the details, probably because they knew how much I looked up to Sunset."

"And that was when I discovered her other project," said Celestia.

"The portal," said Twilight.

"She kept it hidden from me. That was a prodigious task, and I admit to still feeling proud of her for that."

"Let me guess," said Starlight. "She was trying to bypass you and deliver her 'care package' to the griffons via a portal."

Celestia was quiet for a long moment, and her eyes became troubled. "Not quite."

"Wait, what?" said Twilight.

All eyes were on Celestia as she started to pace. "Your conclusion, Starlight Glimmer, is exactly the one I came to until I really studied the energies she was wielding. She was not seeking to open a portal to another part of Equestria, she was seeking to open a portal to another universe."

"Say what?!" Rainbow cried.

"Starswirl the Bearded did postulate about the existence of other universes," said Twilight. "But he was never able to prove it."

Celestia turned to her. "What else do you know of Starswirl's theories in this area?"

"Well, he theorized that there is a metaverse which is the ultimate source of all magic, and multiple universes are connected to this source. He further reasoned that when their connections to this magic source overlapped, it could bridge the gap between two universes."

Celestia smiled. "Very good."

"But he never went anywhere with it," said Twilight. "The odds of two universes becoming connected in that manner are so astronomically small there's almost no point in waiting for it to happen."

"Yet when it does happen, it is most fortuitous," said Celestia. "And it did happen. Twice."

Twilight's mouth dropped open. "Why have I not heard of this?!"

"I had known of the first incident," said Luna. "But not the second."

"That is because the second time it happened was about seven centuries ago, Luna, while you were still on the moon," said Celestia. "The first time was over a millennium before that. There are good records of both incidents, but I had them sealed. I will, of course, make them available to you, Twilight."

"Can you tell us what connection this has to Sunset and her research?" Starlight asked.

"Seven hundred years ago, during the second time that a connection appeared on its own between the worlds, several unicorn mages were able to prop open the temporary portal and thus keep it going longer," said Celestia. "Their research into the mechanics of the portal led Sunset to believe she could craft her own."

"Yes, of course," said Twilight. "The same knowledge that could be put towards opening a portal to another part of this world could be turned to that, but maintaining stability would be a huge feat even for Sunset."

Celestia gave her a sad look. "And that, Twilight, is what led to her demise."

"Wh-what happened?" Fluttershy said in a tiny voice.

"When I discovered what she was doing, I had to assume the worst," said Celestia. "You see, the inhabitants of this other world cannot wield magic."

Starlight blinked. "No magic??"

"I could not let her loose in a world that would be defenseless against her. I rushed to confront her, but rather than let me stop her, she attempted to go through her portal before it was stable." Her voice quavered. "Before I ever got to her lab, I h-heard the terrible scream." Her eyes glistened. "When I got there ... she was gone ... and all the blood ..."

Celestia took a shuddering breath and turned away from the others. Luna stepped up to her and draped a foreleg around her barrel.

Starlight swallowed, her pupils shrunk. "The portal cr-crushed her?"

Fluttershy paled.

"The floor was also covered in shards that were part of her virus-altering device," said Celestia in a quaking voice. "She had every intention of taking it through with her to the other world."

Twilight was quiet for a long moment. "Celestia, I know this is hard for you, but ... can you please tell me what's happening with the anomaly now?"

Celestia smiled her appreciation to her sister before turning around. "When a portal closes, the energies take a long time to completely dissipate. The connection does not sever so much as drift away. The second time a portal opened on its own, it took five years for the energies to fade. They're visible only in the magical spectrum. Sunset's portal, because of the large amount of energy she imparted into it, would take forty years to completely dissipate."

"So you sealed the building," said Starlight. "And made everypony forget about it until the energy dissipated."

"Except it's not dissipating," said Celestia. "Now it's surging again, and I don't know why."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Princess," said Applejack with a frown. "But why in tarnation didn't ya go ta Twilight fer help in the first place? Ya think ya woulda learned yer lesson by now!"

"Applejack!" Rarity cried, aghast. "Your manners!"

"I'm the Element of Honesty, Rarity. I ain't the Element of Sparin' Yer Feelings When Yer Doin' Somethin' Dumb."

"But still, a little sympathy is in order. The Princess had to watch her beloved student die."

"I unnerstand that," said Applejack in a lower voice. "I'm the last one to ever wish that on somepony. But it's been twenty dang years! She couldn't confide in Twilight about this all that time?"

"I'll be perfectly honest, Celestia," said Twilight. "I'm upset that you didn't trust me. That ... that hurts. More than I think the revelation of having my memories altered would have."

Celestia stepped up to Twilight. "Everypony is right to upset with me, but you most of all. I won't beg forgiveness from you, Twilight."

"You don't have to," Twilight said softly. "You already have it."

"Same here, Princess," said Applejack. "An' I'm pretty sure that goes fer everypony here. It don't make no sense to carry a grudge."

A chorus of agreement rose from the other ponies. A teary-eye Celestia smiled warmly at them. "You all make me very proud and humble at the same time. Thank you."

Twilight frowned. "But one thing I can't forget, Celestia, is how this made me feel like I had to treat you as the enemy. And in my mind, that could only mean that you thought I was your enemy."

"Twilight, I never once thought--" Celestia began.

"Let me finish."

Celestia fell silent, her eyes glistening.

"It doesn't matter whether it was true or not," said Twilight. "I know it's not true. I can get over that. Eventually. But what's harder to get over is how your actions said I don't need or want your help, Twilight!"

Celestia lowered her head.

"You always came to me for help," Twilight continued. "You did it with Nightmare Moon, you did it with Discord, and you did it with Sombra! And when Tirek got out of control, you trusted me with all your magic! All I could think is that you didn't come to me with this because of something I did wrong!"

"It was never that," said Celestia in a choked voice.

"If you had come to me about this, if you had told me the truth from the start, yes, I would've been very upset with you for blocking my family's memories, but it would've been mitigated by the fact that you trusted me to see past that and help you with this situation. You violated that trust, Celestia, and it will take me some time to get over that, and ... I can't speak for how the rest of my family will react. I hope in time they'll come to understand, but it won't change the fact that Aunt Sunset is gone."

Celestia slowly lifted her head and blinked away tears. "Nopony regrets that fact more than I do."

Twilight stood. "I need to get back to my family. Spike, Starlight, you're both welcome to come along." She turned to her friends. "I'd invite all of you, but I think I want to restrict this to just those close to the family."

"We understand, Twilight," said Fluttershy with a soft smile.

"We'll be hangin' out in Canterlot fer a spell if ya need us," said Applejack.

Starlight blinked. "Wait. Me? Close to the family?"

Twilight smiled. "What can I say? My parents have taken quite a liking to you."

Starlight's eyes widened. "They have??"

"Don't be so surprised, Starlight," said Luna. "You can be a very likable pony when you want to be."

Starlight blushed. "Um, thank you ... I think."

The others chuckled briefly, the gravity of situation dampening their mirth. Twilight turned away from the others. "Come on, let's go. My family will be anxious to hear some of what happened here."

"Before you go, Twilight," said Celestia. Her horn glowed, and she levitated a book into view, the spell anchor with Sunset's cutie mark on it. "I removed all obscuring magic from this book. You will want to look at it."

Twilight took it in her magic. "What is it?"

"The last journal Sunset ever kept of her research into portal mechanics. I don't know how much use it will be to you given its damaged state."

Twilight opened the cover, only to find many of the pages partially burned. "What happened to it?"

"Sunset burned all her research notes just before heading through the portal," explained Celestia. "I was able to salvage just one, and even then, I had to replace the cover. Perhaps I was foolish to want a memento."

Twilight closed the book. "Any bit of information can be of help. Thank you. I'll treat this book with the utmost care."

Starlight and Spike fell into step on either side of her as Twilight entered the hall. "So, um, what now?" said Starlight. "I mean, after you've dealt with your family."

"We need to do two things as soon as possible," said Twilight. "First, gather any data that was ever recorded about those past portals and see if we can use it to fill in the gaps in Aunt Sunset's journal. Second, we need an up-close look at that anomaly and see if we can figure out why the energy is increasing."

"Do you think the natives of that other world could be trying to open it themselves?" said Starlight.

"I don't see how," said Spike. "Not if they don't have magic."

"But that's ridiculous! How can they not have magic? How would their world function without it? How would they even live without it?"

Twilight considered. "We should also study any data about the natives themselves. If there is energy radiating from that portal, it has to be coming from somewhere, and the other end of the portal is a possibility."

Starlight sighed as she looked at the partially burnt book. "I wish more of her journals had survived."

"Yes, I know, we really have our work cut out for us," said Twilight. "But there's something else. As much as I feel Celestia was telling us the truth, something seems off."

"What do you mean?"

"Aunt Sunset's extreme beliefs. Why did nopony notice it before then?"

Starlight shrugged. "She was good at keeping it to herself?"

"But in all her debates with Celestia, it didn't come out even once?" said Twilight. "There's something we're missing, maybe something Celestia missed as well."

"But does it matter?" said Starlight. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but, well, Sunset is gone."

Twilight sighed, her ears drooping. "Maybe I just don't want to believe that a member of my family could act that way. Still, maybe we'll get lucky and find some more personal information on her. But before we do anything, I have to see how my family is holding up."
> Chapter 17 - Worry
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that Friday morning, Sarah stared at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Two pumpkin-orange eyes stared back.

"You all right?" came a voice at the door.

Sarah rubbed her aching tail bone and turned her head towards her husband. "I'm fine."

"You still look a little pale."

Sarah turned away from the mirror. "I don't know why I reacted so badly earlier. Laura didn't have that strong an aversion to the smell of cooking meat at this point."

"Well, the sausages do smell kind of strong when they're frying," said Harold.

"You may have to take over part of the cooking for now," said Sarah. "I'd consider just dropping meat from the menu completely, but I don't want to deprive those who can still eat it."

"At least for as long as they can," Harold murmured.

"I feel most sorry for you. You love steak so much."

"Not that we've been able to afford it lately, so maybe it kind of works out."

"I wish I could look on the bright side of things as much as you do."

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "Not so much looking on the bright side as being practical."

Sarah glanced at herself in the mirror. "And me wanting to leave town is not practical," she said in a flat voice.

"I never said that."

"Not directly." Sarah stepped closer to her husband. "You're right, anyway. It's not practical."

"My point is that any place is as good as any other," said Harold. "Yeah, okay, I found out that was wrong about a hospital turning us away. I feel stupid about that."

Sarah shook her head and stepped past Harold into the hallway. "It's fine, you had a lot of other good reasons."

Harold stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "If I thought going somewhere else would help, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd do anything to figure this out."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I know why I wanted to leave town. I wanted to run away from the problem. That's all I have been doing. I've been running away from all of our problems."

Harold gently squeezed her shoulders. "Sarah, stop."

"It's true. I run off to digs whenever I feel pressured by family. I immerse myself in my career and let you handle the children."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," said Harold.

Sarah turned to face him. "But you've seen it, too. You've all but come out and said that I inject too much of my career into family matters."

"Maybe I have said stuff like that before," said Harold. "But what happened that's made you start worrying about it so much?"

Sarah hesitated. "It's Laura. I put too much responsibility in her hands."

Harold gave her a perplexed look. "How do you figure that?"

"Look what I did concerning Jenny! Instead of dealing with her issues myself, I foisted her off on Laura. I didn't consider how Laura might feel. I made the assumption that she'd keep being the good little responsible daughter. I didn't even stop to ask if I was imposing on her."

"I did wonder why you changed what we had originally agreed upon for Jenny's punishment," said Harold in a delicate voice.

"I felt that grounding her was a lame punishment considering what she had done," said Sarah. "But what I came up with was worse. I should be the one supervising her, not Laura."

"Or you could've asked me to do it."

"I didn't want to take you away from trying to connect with Bob. That's important to you."

"Except Bob doesn't want to connect with me, so it's a moot point," said Harold.

"Regardless, this should be my responsibility," said Sarah. "It took Laura crying her eyes out when she woke up with a tail to make me realize that. Even then, I was so proud of her for insisting on going to school anyway! She needed comforting more than she needed to be responsible."

"I think you're mistaking a coping mechanism for a problem," said Harold. "Ever since that tornado years ago, she's ... hang on a sec." He pulled out his vibrating cell phone from his shirt pocket and stared. "The hell?"

"What is it?"

"It's ... it's my Dad."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Well, answer it, for God's sake!"

Harold turned away from Sarah and thumbed the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear as he retreated into his office. "Uh, hello?"

"Son," said a deadpan voice at the other end of the line.

Harold's hand tightened around the phone as he closed the door to his office. The single syllable seemed to settle around his shoulders like a lead weight as he fell into his chair. "Hi, Dad," Harold said in a neutral voice.

"I'm gonna get right to the point," said George Tanner. "You gotta get out here."

Harold shielded his eyes with his hand. "We've been over this, and if you had actually read my last letter--"

"Just shut up for two seconds and listen to your father."

Harold's jaw tightened. "Fine. What is it?"

When George spoke again after a pause, his voice was less combative. "Your sister Mary is down with the flu. So are most of the hired hands. I got almost no one here."

"Did Mary tell you anything about the last time we talked?"

"Yeah, she did," George said in a wary voice. "What of it?"

"Did she tell you that I'm dealing with a situation concerning my family?"

"What, you mean that stupid hair thing?"

Harold frowned. "It's a lot worse that that."

"Then why the hell hasn't there been shit about it on TV?"

"It's all over the internet," Harold said.

"Maybe I'm a little dumb when it comes to using computers, but I'm smart enough to steer clear of that porn-infested cesspool."

"There has to be something about it on the news!" Harold exclaimed.

George paused. "Maybe there was a bit piece on it," he said in a lower voice. "But all they can talk about is the damn flu, and I don't need some dumb blond reading a teleprompter to inform me about that."

"Then I guess it just hasn't made the big news yet," said Harold in exasperation.

"Uh-huh. Tell me another one."

"Dad--"

"No, you listen to me, son," George declared. "If I don't get people here helpin' me, this farm is gonna go under."

"So is that the only reason you called me after refusing my calls and returning my letters?" Harold said. "To beg for help?"

"I'm not begging!" George thundered. "A Tanner man doesn't beg! I'm remindin' you of your responsibility."

Harold ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm not asking for much," George said. "Two weeks, three tops. Mary will be back on her feet by then, and so will most of the hired hands. If I don't come down with this flu crap myself, that is."

"You're asking for more than you think," said Harold in a low voice.

"You telling me you've gone so soft you can't handle an honest day's work?"

"That's not what I mean."

"Then explain it to your poor country hick of a father."

Harold forced himself to remain calm. Blowing up at his father was not going to get him anywhere. Could he trust what George was telling him? Was his father really in such dire straits, or was this just another sympathy ploy?

Harold glanced at the returned letter, his teeth grinding. He had tried to explain everything in that missive, how he was still dealing with lingering guilt over leaving the farm years ago, and that returning for even a short time would not help. He wondered now if it had been a lost cause from the start; his father was not stupid, but his view of the world was simplistic.

Harold knew he had to take that step eventually, and under other circumstances, this would be an opportunity. He could claim he had to go, simply because he didn't want to see his father's farm fail. "Dad, almost my whole family here is affected by this. We don't even know how far it's going to progress or what it's going to do to us."

"How the hell is a change in damn hair color--"

"I told you, it's more than that!" Harold curled his fingers into his blue hair. "I'm affected by this as well. I have no idea what kind of shape I'll be in to do any work after I'm out there."

Harold shuddered as he realized he could not look into the future as far as a week and make any definitive statement about the well-being of his family.

"You don't sound sick to me," George said.

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to leave my family in a lurch like this."

"Why the hell not? You did it before. What's one more time?"

"This is not the same situation, not by a long shot."

"If you're so worried about your family," said George. "Then bring them with you. I don't have a lot of room here, but if they bring camping gear, they can make do."

His heart ached as he thought of Laura. From colored hair to a tail in only a week. What was going to happen to her tomorrow? Or next week? "I'm sorry. I just can't do it."

"Son, don't abandon your father again."

If the statement had come with the vitriol which usually accompanied it, Harold would have been justified in telling his father off. Instead, it had come as a soft plea.

Yet didn't George still have neighbors? Surely the other farms and ranches had people to spare. Or was his father still too proud and stubborn to ask for that sort of help? Harold tried to tell himself what Sarah would say: his father's attitudes were not his problem.

"Dad," Harold said in a soft voice. "If things were different, if I even knew what my kids were going to look like in the morning, I'd--"

"What the hell are you talking about?" George demanded.

Harold wanted to believe he sensed some genuine concern behind the incredulity. "Laura is worst off. She has a tail."

"A what?"

"A tail," said Harold. "And a person who got this before her may have some sort of ... of animal ears. That means it could happen to Laura next. We--"

"What kind of shit is this?!" George shouted. "If you're gonna make up some excuse not to help me, at least make it believable! What kind of fool do you take me for?!"

"I wish I were making this up!" Harold snapped. "I'd love to wake up in the morning and find out this was some sort of gag and that everything is back to normal."

"I should've known this was useless," George grumbled. "And you know what? If you're not gonna be a proper son, you're useless, too."

The line went dead.

Harold clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. The plastic of the cell phone casing made a slight crackling noise as his trembling hand gripped it like a vise until he forced himself to relent. He stared at the cell phone for a long moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

Harold clenched a hand into a fist and resisted the urge to bring it crashing down on the top of his desk. He instead set it down with only a dull thump. "I am not useless," he murmured, but he had only to reflect on what was happening to his family to rattle his confidence in that statement.

He took a deep breath and bolted out of his chair and into the hall. Sarah emerged from her office. "Harry? Are you okay? I heard you yelling--"

"I need to go out," Harold said in a curt voice. "I need to clear my head."

"Can I come with you?"

Harold's first instinct was to refuse, but he cast that to the wayside when he saw the pleading look in her eyes. "Sure," he said in a softer voice. "I guess we could both use some air."





Heather paused a moment to steel herself before picking up the phone. "Doctor Conner's office, please hold," she repeated several times as she cycled through each incoming line before returning to the first. "Thank you for waiting. What can I do for you?"

A nervous male voice answered, "You can tell me what's really going on with old man Turner."

Heather assumed her best diplomatic voice. "If you're referring to Mr. Fred Turner, that's not information I can give you."

"The news is all over town! Why can't you just tell me if it's true?!"

"Sir, regardless of what you may or may not have heard, I cannot release medical data on other patients without proper authorization."

"They're calling him 'horse-man' Turner. Is that what he really looks like?"

Heather hesitated as compassion warred with protocol in her head. "Once again, I cannot comment on another patient's condition. HIPAA regulations are very clear on this point."

"Oh, to hell with regulations! I have two boys with tails. My wife is getting frantic."

"I am truly sorry to hear that, sir, but--"

"Can you at least tell me what to expect?" said the man, his voice now more pleading than angry. "Are ... a-are they actually going to get hooves??"

"We are still trying to figure this out. We cannot make any definitive statements on the course of this condition." Heather had made it a point since these calls started to be careful with her terminology. Despite the state referring to it as a "disease," she specifically used more innocuous sounding words like "condition."

"But it is going to get much worse, isn't it?"

"We don't know that."

"Then why would the police start enforcing a curfew? Do they know something we don't? Do you??"

Heather let out a sigh through her nose and hoped it didn't get picked up over the phone. "You know as much as we do at this point."

"Can you at least tell me what's okay to feed the boys?" the man said. "They can't eat meat anymore. One of them tried a bit of chicken last night and just barfed it back up. I don't want to risk poisoning them!"

"Doctor Conner's recommendation is not to feed them anything they have a strong aversion to. Most patients with meat aversion report being able to eat eggs and cheese so long as they didn't have any existing allergies or intolerance. Besides dietary advice, we can also help patients choose mineral supplements to make up for any other losses. That's all we can do right now."

"This is just so confusing. They don't even feel sick. None of us do."

Heather tugged one of her own crystal cyan curls into view before saying in a softer voice, "That's something you can focus on now. Other than these odd symptoms, everyone with this seems to be healthy in most other respects."

The man sighed. "It's just hard to talk to my wife about this when she keeps asking what we should do to fix this or stop it."

"The best thing you can do right now is to remain calm. There's no need for panic. We have physicians at the state level looking into this intently. They've promised us help."

"I really hope that help comes soon," the man said in a forlorn voice.

"I'm sure it will," said Heather in as optimistic a voice as she could muster. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I guess not. Thank you for your time."

"Good day," said Heather before hanging up. She glanced at the lights for the lines on hold before lifting her gaze to the waiting room. A few people suddenly looked away, but the worried look on their faces was still obvious. She heard the distant sound of a door closing. She rushed to the back and intercepted Kevin as he headed to his office.

"I'm seeing more of those additional symptoms that seem to be unique to certain patients," said Kevin as he entered his office. "Three more with upper back and shoulder pain, two more with headaches, five more with neither."

"Kevin, we may have a problem," said Heather.

Kevin fell into his chair. "You mean besides having more patients than we can handle who we can't do a damn thing for?" he said in a slightly sour voice.

"I've been fielding calls all morning from people wanting to know if they're going to start looking like Turner soon."

Kevin paused as he was about to slip on his reading glasses. "I beg your pardon?"

"They're even calling him 'horse-man Turner'. Someone must've seen him yesterday."

"It couldn't have been more than one or two people, not with as quickly as Janet had shepherded him between the car and the office."

"Perhaps, but in a small town like this, that's all it takes," said Heather. "I'm trying to talk them down, but it's getting harder." She summarized her most recent call. "I'm thinking that the curfew is scaring folks."

Kevin leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "I wonder if I was mistaken in going to Chief Barrows. He seems like the sort of person who would take a cannon to a duck hunt."

"We're going to have to do something," said Heather. "Even if it's just to record a new greeting message to give people some sort of reassurance. Maybe it will cut down on the number of calls."

Kevin nodded. "All right."

"And another thing," said Heather. "Maybe we should say that if they don't have anything more than the known symptoms that they should just stay home."

"That sounds like triaging," Kevin said in a wary voice.

"Well, I guess in a way, it is."

"We're not an emergency service, Heather. I prefer not to discourage anyone from seeing me."

"But do you really need to see your umpteenth person with a tail when we already know that's a symptom? All you can do is confirm, yep, they have a tail and send them on their way unhappy that you can't do anything for them. You've already sent in a dozen more hair and blood samples. Why not tell them to wait until they have a new symptom?"

"And have them be even less happy if they can't see me at all? Especially with the hospital and clinics backed up?"

"But what are you really offering them?"

"Maybe a chance to talk to a human being who cares about their predicament," Kevin snapped. "That has to count for something!"

"I just don't want to see you either frustrate yourself or stress yourself out."

"I am not stressing out!"

"Yes, you are," Heather said. "Just the fact that you raised your voice to me is proof."

Kevin stared at her for a moment before rubbing his temples. "I'm terribly sorry, Heather," he said in a more contrite voice.

Heather smiled faintly. "I can take people yelling at me, it's just very unusual to hear it from you. Even at the height of the flu outbreak, you managed to keep your spirits up."

"It helped I was dealing with something familiar."

"Not to mention that we knew about when it would be over." Heather paused. "I'm sorry I suggested triaging."

Kevin stood and shook his head. "No, I understand where you're coming from. I'm hoping we need to hold the fort for only another day. Once a public health emergency is declared, we'll get an influx of physicians who can take some of the load." Kevin smiled. "Maybe we'll even get a day or two off."

Heather slowly smiled. "I could use it, believe me."





Harold led Sarah on a largely silent romp through many of the nature trails and hiking paths surrounding the town despite the blanket of wet snow that had fallen the night before. Sarah had tried not to complain; Harold needed to work off his head of steam. A panting Sarah finally leaned her back against a tree and called out. "Harry, please, I have to stop, my legs ache something awful!"

Harold turned around, snow crunching as he walked over to her. "What, already?"

Sarah stared. "Seriously? It's been over an hour."

"It has?"

"You're not the least bit winded tromping through all this thick snow?"

"Not really, no."

Sarah grinned. "And here I thought being cooped up in the house would've made you soft."

Harold frowned.

Sarah's grin faded. "Sorry. Did I hit a nerve?"

"Sort of. Not your fault."

"Care to tell me what happened with your father?"

Harold rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer to his wife. "I know you said you're tired, but let's walk back to town. We can go slow if you want. I'm just still too restless to keep standing still."

Sarah sighed but nodded as she pushed herself from the tree. "Please, talk to me."

Haltingly, Harold summarized the conversation with his father.

"If it helps any, I think you made the right decision," said Sarah.

"I'd like to think I did," Harold said in a neutral voice.

"Of course, you did. You can't leave your family at a time like this. I'd have something to say about it if you had decided otherwise."

"But we could've all gone together," said Harold.

Sarah frowned. "When I said I wanted to leave Lazy Pines, it was to seek treatment, not be conscripted into manual labor."

"You and the kids could've gone into a hospital. I could stay on the farm and help Dad."

"No, Harry."

Harold said nothing, and for a while the only sound was their feet crunching on the snow.

"First of all, we have no idea if this condition is going to do something to us to make us unable to ... to do things," Sarah said, waving her hand vaguely. "He also had no business telling you that you're useless. Just on that alone, I wouldn't want to set foot in his house."

"I didn't care for it much either," said Harold in a low voice.

"And you don't believe him, do you?"

"I'm trying not to." Harold looked at Sarah. "I'm mostly succeeding, but I still want to help him. If he really doesn't have anyone, I want to do something."

"Harry, you don't have to--"

"No, Sarah, I said want to, not have to," said Harold. "I'm going to try to find out who his neighbors are and contact them. I'll ask them if they'd be willing to help my Dad."

"And if he won't accept their help?"

Harold's words were a bit forced as he said, "Then his attitude is his problem."

They continued in silence until they reached the edge of town. "We should swing by the grocery store," said Sarah. "We're running low on vegetables."

"Right."

As they reached the denser part of town, Sarah looked around with a mix of concern and bemusement. More people than not had some form of discolored hair, and she suspected some had tails; either they wore long coats to cover it, or walked oddly, or had a telltale bulge in the back of one pant leg.

Those that did not have the condition were more noticeable, and not just for their lack of symptoms. Many walked slightly hunched, arms pressed tight to their bodies, often their hands thrust into their pockets. One such person appeared ahead, walking towards them. He looked up, hesitated, then ducked his head and crossed the street.

"Did you see that?" Sarah said.

"Huh?" said Harold. "See what?"

"The fellow who was walking towards us. I think he deliberately avoided walking near us. Does he think we're contagious or something?"

"Maybe not everyone's heard Doctor Conner's theory."

Sarah was about to reply when she spotted a group of people clustered on a street corner. All had discolored hair, and one had a tail hanging down from a notch cut in his pants. A van with a satellite dish atop it was parked just around the corner. The group slowly broke up, revealing a man with dark hair and no obvious symptoms. A lighter-haired man stood near him carrying a large video camera.

"Harry, wait," Sarah said as she slowed. "Look over there."

Harold stopped and turned. The group had thinned enough for them to see the logo emblazoned on the side of the van: "9News Denver". The dark-haired man pointed at Sarah and Harold and said something to his cameraman before they both started jogging across the street.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Harry, maybe we should just continue on our way."

"Excuse me, ma'am, sir?" the man called out.

"I'm not sure we should do this," Sarah murmured.

"Why not?" said Harold. "Maybe if this gets picked up nationally, my father will actually believe me."

"I don't want that to be the reason we--" Sarah started, but she fell silent as the two men reached them.

The dark-haired man smiled. "I'm Bruce Donner with 9News in Denver. Would you folks be kind enough to agree to be interviewed?"





"Hey, Jenny, wait up!"

Jenny had just stepped away from her locker and turned to head to the exit when she whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. She smiled as she brushed strands of pink hair from her eyes. "Finally, you have to catch up with me for a change."

James smirked as he approached. "Very funny."

Jenny grinned. "I should've just kept going and made you run after me."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing any running with this damn tail stuffed down my pants."

"It's grown longer, huh?" Jenny said in a softer voice. "Same thing happened to Laura."

"After having it tug on my tail bone one too many times earlier, I was tempted to take a pair of scissors into the bathroom and just cut it off," James muttered.

"Laura had cut all of it off just before going to bed last night," said Jenny. "It all came back this morning."

"I heard some other girl tried to shave off all the hair on her head."

"Yeah, that was Josie. It all grew back the next morning just as purple as it was before."

James' eyes widened. "That's beyond weird."

"You mean weirder than the idea we're turning into ponies?" said Jenny.

James scratched his head. "I kinda wish I'd never brought that up."

"I kinda wish you hadn't, either."

James frowned but said in a low voice, "Sorry."

Jenny sighed and shook her head. "No, forget I said that. You just repeated the same rumor everyone else did. It doesn't matter. It's not gonna happen."

James' eyebrows rose. "And you're so sure of that?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

"Because it's stupid," Jenny declared.

"Jenny, things don't fail to happen just because you think they're stupid."

"No, you don't get it. It's stupid because the world is not supposed to work like that."

James gave her a perplexed look. "I don't follow you."

Jenny hesitated. "You remember what I told you once, about how the real world is boring, and that's why I do what I do?"

James remembered the exact day she had told him. He had felt it was a sort of milestone in their budding relationship. "Yeah, I remember. I thought you'd want the world to be a little more interesting."

"Not in that way!" Jenny snapped. "It's fun when it's just in my head. It's not supposed to be real. It can't be real."

James heard the quaver that crept into Jenny's voice, and his expression softened. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was frightening you."

"It's not! I'm not frightened. Are you?"

"Yeah, a little," said James. "The world was already a scary place before this, but--"

Jenny waved her hands. "No, don't talk to me about things like politics or world events. Maybe other people think that makes the world scary, but I don't see the point of worrying about that sort of stuff."

"I don't claim to lose sleep over it," said James.

"But other people do, and I don't want to be one of those people."

"It kinda sounds like you want to wish this away."

"No, it's not that." Jenny hesitated, as if searching for words. "It's more like I don't want it to affect what I like to do."

"Is that why you've been using what's happening as inspiration?"

Jenny shrugged. "I always get inspired by stuff around me. I just don't like reality getting too close to fantasy."

James glanced at the clock on the wall. "I hate to cut off this deep discussion, but I still have to head straight home from school, and I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure, go ahead," said Jenny, eager to change the topic.

"I have an idea how we can hang out together tomorrow."

Jenny slowly smiled. "Really?"

"I'm planning on telling my mother that I'm going to spend part of the day with my friend Ken playing video games," James explained. "I got Ken to swear up and down that I'll be there."

"What if she tries to call Ken's house to check on you?"

"Ken's going to claim I'm in the bathroom and that he'll have me call her back," said James. "Then he'll call me to let me know, and I can call Mom back on my phone."

"What if your mother insists on waiting on the phone for you to get out of the bathroom?" Jenny asked.

"Then Ken will go to his backup plan and claim his battery's low."

"I'm not sure that's going to fool her."

James grinned. "My mother is a little technology-challenged, and I'm taking shameless advantage of it."

Jenny smirked. "So you're starting to think like me."

"Oh, I hope not!"

Jenny playfully punched his arm. "Oh, sure, you arrange for a secret rendezvous with the peasant girl and then you insult her. Some hero you are."

James chuckled. "So you think you can meet me at the park around ten without Laura in tow?"

Jenny looked thoughtful. "Let me see what I can do. The peasant girl will have to avoid the watchful eye of the evil sorceress while she tries her wiles on the knight."

James smirked. "Translation: you're going to bypass your Mom and sweet-talk your Dad."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, I wish you luck with that," said James. "I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jenny smiled. "See you."





As dusk deepened to twilight, Kevin yawned and stretched his neck before opening the door and returning to his patient. A young woman sat at the end of the examination table, playing nervously with a lock of magenta hair. Kevin eased himself into a chair, trying not to look as tired as he felt. "So I did receive a copy of the ultrasound you had."

Carol forced a small smile as she lay a hand on her swollen belly. "They, um, said it was normal."

"Yes, your son appears perfectly healthy."

Carol's eyes looked slightly distant. "That was done a week ago."

"The hospital is a bit backed up, and paperwork is not quite a priority right now."

"That's not what I mean, Doctor Conner," Carol said in a flat voice.

Kevin had anticipated and dreaded this conversation the moment he saw Carol had made an appointment. While he had taken a rotation in obstetrics and gynecology during his medical training -- like most physicians specializing in family medicine -- he preferred that his pregnant patients see an OB/GYN, but Carol's was out of town on vacation that week. He assumed she came to him not so much for medical reasons as emotional support.

"I didn't have these weird symptoms then," said Carol in a quavering voice. "I-I wouldn't have worried about it, but then I heard about Turner, and when I woke up with a tail this morning, I--"

Kevin stood and placed his hand over hers. "Carol, it's okay, I understand. A lot of people are worried about this."

Carol took a deep breath. "I was so freaked out when I came down with the flu. Now I want to laugh at how upset I got. It's almost nothing compared to this."

"As far as we know, this is not adversely affecting anyone's health. Even the aversion to meat can be compensated for in the diet by--"

"That's not really what I'm concerned about. I'm only four months along. What am I going to become when I'm ready to give birth? What am I going to give birth to?!"

"Your son," said Kevin firmly. "Nothing more and nothing less."

Carol hesitated, her eyes glistening. "But ... what if ... what if this changes us so much that I can't care for him? Or that I won't even know how to care for him?"

The honest answer was that he didn't know, but he knew that's not what Carol wanted to hear. "Help will be on the way long before then. I've already spoken to state officials myself. I'll make absolutely sure they understand your situation."

Carol shuddered and let out a ragged breath. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "S-sorry, Doctor Conner, my husband told me this wasn't going to accomplish anything but ... I had to talk to someone about it. He keeps avoiding the subject."

Kevin squeezed her hand. "I know you're scared, but it won't do you or your child any good to panic. Are you having any difficulties specific to your pregnancy?"

She shook her head. "It's going really smooth, actually." She managed a tiny smile. "Kinda nice considering this is my first. I just hope ... when I give birth that ... he'll still be ... um ..." She bit her lip. "Never mind. You're right, I have to keep calm."

Like Heather earlier, compassion battled responsibility in Kevin's head. The Department of Health would want data on how this may be affecting unborn children, but Carol's ability to cope seemed to be hanging by a thread. "When does your obstetrician get back?"

"Monday," said Carol. "I already made an appointment with her."

Kevin would let her OB/GYN order another ultrasound. By then, the state would likely be more directly involved, and she could get the procedure in a more reasonable amount of time than Kevin ever could. He could live with that compromise.

"I just got a little spooked when I heard about Turner." Carol sighed. "Okay, a lot spooked."

"Take rumors with a grain of salt," said Kevin. "I always find that to be sound advice."

Kevin hated how close to outright lying that sounded to his ears, but the last thing Carol's baby needed was for her mother to be constantly stressed. He was rewarded with a small smile. "Thank you, doctor, I really appreciate this. Sorry if I had to keep you so late."

Kevin smiled gently. "You're my last patient, if that helps any."

After finishing up with her, he headed back to his office and to the mountain of data he needed to sift through for his next report to the Department of Health.

Heather knocked softly on his door before letting herself in. "I was going to head out if you didn't need me for anything."

"I should be okay," said Kevin in a listless voice.

"You sure?"

Kevin smiled wanly. "Not really, but nothing can be done about it."

"Do you need help entering data for your last patients?"

"I don't have much to enter for Carol. All she really wanted was reassurance." Kevin frowned. "What little I could give her."

Heather placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kevin, you did your best. You sure you don't need help?"

"All I have left to do is report my latest findings to the Department of Health."

"Promise me you won't work past eight?"

Kevin opened his mouth to protest, but softened his gaze. "I promise."

Heather gave him a small smile. "Thank you. Good night." She started out of the office, but paused and sighed. "Oh, for heaven's sake."

Kevin looked up. "What is it?"

"Janet Turner just walked in."

Kevin leaned back in his seat. "Send her in, please."

"This time of night?"

"It's likely about her father. Send her in, and you can head on home. And, yes, I promise not to stay up too late."

Heather headed away. Kevin heard muffled conversation, then heeled shoes approaching his office. Janet poked her head in. "Kevin? I'm really sorry for how late it is, but--"

Kevin shook his head and gestured for her to come while he suppressed a yawn. "It's okay, though I do wish you had contacted me earlier."

"I had planned to," said Janet as she sat down. "But I spent a chunk of the afternoon playing phone tag with my lawyer and talking to the police. I started feeling so fatigued I had to lie down for a bit."

"We're all starting to feel a little frayed around the edges," said Kevin. "What did the police want?"

Janet frowned. "They wanted more details on his mental state. I think they're looking for an excuse to take him into custody." She sighed. "I know they're just doing their job, but I don't want to see my father get hurt."

Kevin could appreciate Janet's worry, but as he had with Carol earlier, he had to find a way to balance sympathy with his responsibilities to the public. "Did you have a chance to look in on your father today?"

"For a little while this morning, before he became agitated and asked me to leave."

"What's his condition like?"

"He's a little more hunched over. He had some fur on his arms. His hands looked like they were a bit stiff, but that could've been just his arthritis acting up." From Janet's shudder, it was clear she didn't believe that last part.

"How's his mobility?" Kevin asked.

"I'm rather surprised and a little frightened by how well he can get around on those hooves."

Kevin scrubbed his face with both hands. He had not realized how tired he was until he was forced to focus on this. "Janet, I really wish I could just call for an ambulance and admit him to the hospital, because right now that's his best bet."

"But that's the problem, Kevin," Janet said. "If he doesn't want to leave, there's almost no way to get him out of there without hurting him."

"He's not going to have a choice," said Kevin. "The state wants him in a proper medical facility and have the legal weight to back them up."

"His place is fortified. He claims he has booby traps everywhere. His air is filtered, and he has enough food and water to last a month long siege, and that's even taking into account the food stores he can't eat anymore. I need to get him out of there under his own will."

"He can be isolated in-house," said Kevin in an exasperated voice. "He just needs to let physicians examine him and--"

"He won't, unless he's forcibly restrained, and there's still the problem of getting to him. That's why I came to see you."

"What can I possibly do?"

"Would you come and see him? He might let you examine him."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Because he holds some measure of respect for you," said Janet.

"He didn't show it in the office."

"It was something he said to me later when I brought him home. He said 'I could almost believe he was telling the truth.'"

Kevin managed a small smile. "Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but better than I was expecting."

"He respects you because you showed him nothing but the utmost respect, even when he was raving at you," said Janet. "He hasn't seen that from anyone in a long time."

"All right, say I do go see him," Kevin said. "What do you hope to accomplish?"

"If he lets you examine him, maybe you can gain his confidence and try to convince him to seek help," said Janet. "If he goes willingly, then no one has to force him out of there."

"I suppose anything is worth a shot, but as much as I would want to do it now, I am absolutely exhausted."

"So am I," said Janet. "And my father retires early and gets up before the dawn, so tomorrow morning would be better anyway."

"I'm planning on keeping just my normal afternoon Saturday hours tomorrow, so my morning will be free. Should I meet you at your hotel?"

"Yes, please," Janet said. "We should head over in my car so he sees something familiar on the surveillance cameras." She smiled. "Thank you for doing this, Kevin. You can't imagine how much I appreciate it."

> Chapter 18 - No Simple Answers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shining Armor paced slowly back and forth in his parents' living room. "I came to Canterlot with a full head of steam," he said in a low voice. "Now that I've had the train trip to cool down, I don't know what to think!"

"Is that why you sent Cadance on ahead to the palace?" asked Twilight.

"Yes, because right now, I have no idea what to say to Princess Celestia."

"You'd be expressing the same thing we've all been thinking," said Night Light in a tired voice. "She was wrong in doing this, and--"

Shining stopped and stared at his father. "But was she, really?"

Twilight Velvet gasped. "How can you say that??"

"Mom, you know about the terrible ideas Aunt Sunset was pouring into Twily's head!"

Night frowned. "You're lucky I sent my parents home, Shiny. They wouldn't take kindly to what you just said. Have a little respect for the dead."

"Look, I was sad when she died, too," said Shining. "But I was the one who found out what Aunt Sunset was teaching her."

Twilight's eyes widened. "You were?"

Shining turned to her. "You were writing an essay for school, and you left it on your desk. I probably wouldn't have read it if it weren't for the title: 'Because ponies are better.'"

"Yes, I remember that," said Twilight. "Hearth's Warming Eve was coming up, and the class was tasked with writing an essay about what we liked about Equestria. I never turned that one in."

"Because I convinced you not to," said Velvet.

"That's right. You had me write my second choice, a treatise about pony unity. You never tried to explain what was wrong with my original essay."

"I ... I just had no words at the time. I was too much in shock."

"The family had a big discussion about it," said Shining. "They couldn't figure out how you got that stuff in your head. Aunt Sunset was the only one who didn't attend. I got suspicious and secretly listened in the next time Sunset foal-sat for you. You showed her the essay you had originally written."

"I was upset that Mom didn't let me submit it and couldn't understand why," Twilight said. "Aunt Sunset started to praise what I had written until--"

"Until I interrupted her," said Shining. "I didn't want to upset you, so I talked to her in private. I asked her to leave. Then I told our parents, and they decided Aunt Sunset was a bad influence and shouldn't foal-sit you anymore."

"Thank you for intervening, Shining," said Twilight in a slightly subdued voice. "I'm sure you did what you thought was best."

Starlight gave Twilight a confused look.

Shining smiled and ruffled Twilight's mane with a forehoof. "Anything for my little sister."

"And Sunset was my sister," said Night. "I know she was taking a path that I didn't like, but I never wanted to see her cut off from the family."

"She cut herself off," said Shining. "You and grandma tried everything to reason with her, but she wouldn't even answer the door let alone any letters sent to her."

"Um, if I can make a suggestion?" Starlight said tentatively.

"Yeah?" Shining said in a terse voice.

Starlight had felt like the fifth wheel in Shining's presence the moment she had stepped into the house. "Well, it's sort of already done, so maybe we shouldn't argue about it?"

"Starlight is right," said Twilight. "We're just going to tear the family apart if we keep debating it. What's done is done."

Shining rubbed his mane with a hoof. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Twily."

"Furthermore, we have bigger things to worry about," said Twilight. "I need to find out what's going on with that portal and figure out how to seal it."

"Are you going to need my help?"

"Yes. You're better with shield spells than me."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. Somepony is actually better than you in shield spells?"

Twilight smiled. "I may be an alicorn, but Shiny's been doing shields since I was still a foal. Maybe I can make them stronger in the short term, but I can't maintain them as long as he can."

Shining smiled at the praise.

"Look, um, in that case, maybe I should join Spike at the Archives," said Starlight.

"Are you sure you don't want a snack or some juice, Starlight?" Velvet asked.

"No, I'm good. I'll just see you later."

She headed away, but Twilight caught up with her. "You okay?" she asked in a low voice.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Starlight whispered. "You didn't look happy when Shining explained what he had done."

"Never mind that for now. You looked uncomfortable all morning."

"Just feeling out-of-place. Your brother hasn't exactly taken a shine to me."

"Don't worry too much about that," said Twilight. "He tends to be a little overprotective of the family. He'll come around."

"I'll take your word for it," Starlight said. "Meanwhile, it's dusty old scrolls for me."

"I'll meet you over there once I've had a chance to look at the portal."





"It's good to see you again, Cadance," said Celestia with a small smile. "I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

Cadance forced a smile in return. While she had agreed to take Shining's place, she had about as much luck as her husband in finding the right words to say.

"I trust little Flurry Heart is doing well?"

"Yes, she is," said Cadance. "Sunburst agreed to watch her while we're gone. Normally, I would've brought her to Canterlot with us, but I didn't want to expose her to ... well, all the negativity."

Some of Celestia's smile faded. "And just how much of that is on your part, Cadance?"

Cadance tried and failed to suppress a frown. She turned fully towards Celestia. "Do you want to know what my last memory was before you suppressed it?"

"I know all too well," said Celestia softly.

"I'm going to repeat it anyway," said Cadance, acid creeping into her voice. "It was an argument we had. I had found out what Sunset really did, not just what she let everypony think she did. I pleaded with you to tell Sunset's family the truth!"

"And you vowed to tell Shining Armor if I didn't."

Cadance turned away. "Obviously, I never had the chance."

Celestia lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"I realize now that it was too impetuous of me, especially given Sunset had only just died," said Cadance in a low voice. "But you had trusted me above all other ponies. I was the one you confided in when you were at your wits' end. You drew on me for support." She whirled around, her voice rising. "I kept your secrets for you, but only on your reassurances that you would tell everypony what really happened. That was just another lie, wasn't it?"

Celestia raised her head. "Not at the time. I had every intention of keeping my word."

"So why didn't you?"

"Everything started to break down when the griffons discovered Sunset's successful experiment," said Celestia. "To this very day, I have no idea how they found out. I had the Royal Guard quietly scour Canterlot in hopes of uncovering a griffon spy, if for no other reason than to give me leverage against them."

"I take it you never found one."

"No, and time was running out," said Celestia. "When we had our argument, it was just after I had concluded the peace treaty with the griffons. I had to bury all knowledge of Sunset's research. While she had already burned all her notes, there was so much record of what she did and accomplished that another pony as good as her could reconstruct her research."

"Like Twilight potentially could," said Cadance.

"A Twilight whose head had been filled with Sunset's twisted ideas."

"And maybe that wouldn't have happened!" Cadance snapped. "I had already started to foal-sit her. I could've countered Sunset's ideas. Shining could've done it! Twilight looked up to him as much as she had Sunset."

"Cadance, please, listen to me," Celestia said. "I have been around for a very long time. I have seen many ponies of great renown -- and great infamy -- pass away. Many such ponies become greater and more powerful in the minds of others in death than they ever were in life. Starswirl the Bearded is a perfect example. He was a great pony. He was a powerful pony. He did very many great things. But he was fallible, he made mistakes, often huge ones. Yet there are many who virtually deify him."

"Yes, but we don't go around wiping ponies' memories of him," said Cadance.

"This is not the same situation. Cadance, my words are not meant to excuse my actions, merely explain them. Had I a chance to do it over again, I would try to find a different path."

Cadance remained silent as thoughts spun in her head.

Celestia lowered her gaze. "I once thought that the biggest mistake I had ever made in my life was using the Elements of Harmony against my own sister. Since her return, I've become convinced that it had to happen that way, that a much greater good came of it. I don't feel any sense of that now. I made a mistake that I don't see any immediate greater good that could result."

Cadance approached her aunt. "You had said at the time that Sunset believed this act of magic would allow her to Ascend. Even after my Ascension and then Twilight's, I still don't understand quite how it works. Could she have actually done it? Or is it something you need to approve somehow?"

Celestia looked thoughtful as she stepped out on her balcony. She looked up at the sky as Cadance followed. "It is a bit complicated. I can sense potential, and I can help it along, and I can be there when it concludes, but I cannot arbitrarily bestow it." She smiled. "You cannot know the intense joy I felt when I was not only there for Luna's Ascension, but I sensed her potential so strongly. It didn't happen again for a very long time until you Ascended, and then Twilight."

"But when did you sense our destinies?"

"I sensed your potential about a year before you Ascended. I sensed Twilight's potential when she returned from the Crystal Empire after defeating Sombra. I do not profess to understand everything about alicornhood, nor do I claim to control every aspect of Ascension. That is why the birth of Flurry Heart was as much a surprise to me as it was to you and Shining Armor."

Cadance nodded slowly. "So what about Sunset? Did you sense that in her?"

Celestia was quiet for a long moment. "Yes, right around the time she started to work on the task she claimed would smooth over relations with the griffons."

Cadance's eyes widened. "Is that why you didn't ask for more detail on what she was planning?"

Celestia turned to her. "Sunset was my pride and joy. Until Twilight, she was the most capable student I ever had. Through sheer accomplishment alone, she deserved Ascension. I suppose that may be one of the reasons I took so long to see the truth, and in the aftermath, it left me with a question I could not answer: why?"

"Why what?"

"Why her? You are the Princess of Love. Twilight is the Princess of Friendship. You both spread Harmony. What possible purpose could be served by elevating somepony of Sunset's beliefs to a Princess? The Princess of what? Pony Hegemony? It makes no sense!"

Whatever lingering anger Cadance may have still felt, she could not bring herself to express it after seeing the tears forming in Celestia's eyes. "I wish I could give you answers, Auntie. Maybe something good will come out of this in the end."

Celestia sighed. "I can only hope. Yet no matter what I do, it won't change the fact that Sunset Shimmer is dead."





Starlight found Spike sitting at a table in a distant corner of the Archives, several books and scrolls arrayed around him. His eyes were glued to a particular book. "Weird," he murmured.

"What's weird?" said Starlight.

Spike lifted his head. "I was reading up on the description of the natives of the world on the other side of the portal. They're, uh, kinda strange."

"Let me see." Starlight grabbed the book in her magic. "Hmm ... upright ... bipedal ... one-and-a-half pony-heights tall ... no fur ..." Starlight looked up and shrugged. "Eh, not that weird."

"That's not the weird part," said Spike. "The weird part is that they have no magic, and yet the first time the portal opened, they had a huge empire!"

Starlight stared. "Seriously? How'd they manage that?"

"Beats me."

"How long ago was it?"

Spike consulted his notes. "Umm ... about one thousand nine hundred years ago. I think. I had a hard time trying to read that ancient Equestrian script. Twilight's been teaching me, but I've got a way to go." He grabbed another book and slid it across the table. "This has more detail. Maybe you can make sense of it."

Starlight opened the book with a nudge of magic. "Hrm. I'm a little rusty with this as well, but I'll try reading the summary." She was quiet for a few moments. "Wow. They had advanced architecture, a road system, aqueducts, an official language, a monetary system, all without any magic whatsoever!" She looked up and smirked. "Good thing I volunteered for this part. If Twilight started reading this, we wouldn't see her for days."

Spike chuckled. "But you see what I mean."

"How did they ever manage this without even at least pegasi to keep the weather under control?" said Starlight as she looked back down at the book.

"Maybe they didn't." Spike grabbed another book and slid it towards her. "Take a look at this. This was from when the portal reappeared around seven hundred years ago."

Starlight grabbed the new book and opened it. "No cohesive state ... people living primitively ... no written language ... nomadic ..." She lifted her head. "What happened? Some sort of disaster? Warfare?"

Spike shrugged. "They never figured it out, either."

"Wait a minute," murmured Starlight as she read. "They tried to make contact with the natives this time." She glanced at the previous book. "The first time they used their magic to disguise themselves. But why--? Oh! Huh. The natives were militaristic and meat-eaters. That would do it."

"But the griffons are meat-eaters, and we don't worry about them."

"Yeah, but when you're dealing with an unknown species, you're not going to take a chance that ponies taste good," said Starlight.

"Ah, good point."

"Looks like the attempt at contact the second time around was a bust," said Starlight. "Some other tribe of natives attacked the first tribe, and they had to get out in a hurry. They even left a few magical items behind."

"Maybe that's the cause of the energy in the rift," said Spike.

"I doubt it. The objects were really trivial, and the natives seem to have an inherent lack of ability to do magic despite the presence of a thaumic field. I doubt they would've suddenly gained that ability since then, not if their culture had devolved to that state."

Spike rested his head on a claw. "Does it seem kinda strange that I'm a little worried about these natives?"

Starlight smiled faintly. "Spike, I don't think it's strange at all."





Twilight stepped carefully into the room that once had been Sunset's lab, her eyes wide as she looked around. "Wow. I can still sense lingering bits of plasma even after all these years, Shiny," said Twilight in a hushed voice. "I would've given anything to see this place when it was still intact."

"She should never have had this lab in the first place," said Shining as his hoof-falls kicked up small clouds of dust.

"Still, it was an amazing accomplishment."

"Be careful, Twily. Don't get caught up in your hero worship of her again."

"Shining, please, relax," said Twilight as she stopped near the center of the room. "It's like I told my friends, I've since been too indoctrinated in friendship and harmony to ever consider taking on those beliefs." She lighted her horn. "But I can still admire her prowess at magic, and in that regard, she was a unicorn of astonishing power."

Twilight turned her head to the left, her horn brightening as she slowly moved it to the right. A cone of energy projected from her horn swept over the center of the room. A tear in reality revealed itself in the form of a jagged, glowing scar stretching before them.

Shining's eyes widened, and he backed up a step. "That's been here all this time? It looks monstrous!"

Twilight extended her wings. "And yet, it's relatively harmless." She flew through it and back. "The portal is closed. Most of its magic is not resonating in physical reality."

"Then what's the real danger from this thing?"

Twilight landed before her brother. "The real danger is the energy leaking into the wormhole. If it becomes too great, it could re-open the portal in an uncontrolled fashion. It would be like a bomb going off. We also have to consider the possibility of the natives of the other world attempting to open it."

Shining nodded. "We wouldn't want hostiles gaining access to Canterlot."

"I'm more concerned that they may tinker with something that they know little about," said Twilight. "Though Celestia told me they have no magic."

Shining raised an eyebrow. "Then how could they do anything with it?"

Twilight turned towards the anomaly. "The fact that this has remained a conduit for energy means there's still a tenuous connection with the other world." She paused and turned to her brother. "Shining, how much do you remember of what Aunt Sunset did that made the family upset?"

Shining frowned. "All we found out was that it had to do with forcefully bringing the griffons under Equestrian rule. Given what we knew of her beliefs, all we could guess was that she wanted to make them mind-controlled slaves serving the 'master pony race'" He stated the last three words with disdain. "She did nothing to dissuade us from that thinking."

Twilight sighed. "Well, that explains your cold reception of Starlight."

"I'm sorry, Twily. All these suppressed memories feel like they happened yesterday, so it's very hard for me to forgive what Starlight did to your friends. You don't know how much I struggled with what to think about these memories while on the train."

"I know," said Twilight in a low voice. "I won't reveal quite yet exactly what Aunt Sunset had done, as I think the family's nerves are too raw right now, but I can tell you it was not mind control. Right now, I don't want friction between you and Starlight."

"I'll try, I promise." Shining looked at the tear. "So now what?"

Twilight stepped closer to the anomaly. "Now that I can see it, I can try to determine the nature of the magic coming through."

Shining smiled. "That should be fairly easy for you."

"Not really." Twilight lighted her horn. "The portal is closed up so tight that space is folded in on itself. It's making a mess of the thaumic flow. It's just a big jumble on this side."

Shining stepped forward. "Anything we can do about it?"

"Yes, and this is why I brought you here," said Twilight. "We need to wedge open the portal at this end slightly."

Shining's eyes widened. "But I thought the idea was to keep the portal shut!"

"This won't open the portal clear to the other end."

"But what if the magic coming through is dangerous?"

"All we're doing is letting out some of what's piled up at this end," said Twilight. "That's actually a good thing, as it relieves some of the pressure and makes the portal less prone to spontaneously opening. I imagine that's what Celestia had planned to do herself."

Shining nodded. "All right, let's do this. What's my target?"

A narrow beam shot from Twilight's horn, and she drew a glowing circle upon the scar about a foreleg in width. "There." She got out a quill and paper. "Ready?"

Shining's horn started to glow. "Ready."

"Go."

A beam erupted from Shining's horn, and a small cylinder of shield energy filled half of the circle Twilight had drawn. A stream of glittering, raw magical energy poured forth through this makeshift pipe like champagne foam. Twilight easily diverted it into a ball of energy above her head.

Shining clenched his teeth and grunted with the effort, the beam growing brighter as the shield slowly expanded. "This is a real fight, Twily! Am I making any progress?"

"Yes, keep it up, the pressure is dropping to a safer level." She hovered near the shield and peered through it. As the energy in the ball suspended above her head continued to froth and roil, she jotted down runes and equations. Flickering yellow and red light danced across her face as she peered at a tight ball of dense plasma similar to what she had seen in her grandmother's dream, sitting just past the mouth of the portal. "This is fascinating, Shining. Aunt Sunset actually managed to create an artificial wormhole."

Sweat beaded on Shining's forehead. "A little faster with the note-taking would be appreciated," he said in a strained voice.

The quill scratched across the page. "Hmm. The portal energy is not quite as noisy as I had expected." She glanced above her head. "And there's not nearly as much pressure built up." She peered into the hole again. "The plasma is not even pulsating. I don't get this."

Shining panted, sweat rolling down his face. "Uh, Twily? You almost done? This is tougher than it looks!"

"Sorry." Twilight quickly made more notes. "All right, I'm done."

The shield collapsed. The hole closed up neatly, leaving the scar unperturbed.

Twilight stared. "It shouldn't have done that."

Shining stepped up, still panting. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Do what?"

"The way the portal closed back up," said Twilight. "Celestia said the portal was unstable, and Aunt Sunset was killed when it collapsed on her. I expected a ripple across the length of the rift just now, or at least some sort of energy backwash."

"I'm not sure I follow, Twily."

Twilight turned to him, still levitating the quill and paper. "Unstable portals should get more unstable over time." She gestured with a wing towards the glowing ball above her head. "And this is mostly residual portal energy that was pushed down the throat of the wormhole by whatever magic is causing this resurgence in the first place."

Shining glanced at it. "Can you tell what magic it is?"

Twilight examined her notes. "The two magicks are all jumbled up due to the massive compression of the wormhole. All I can do right now is a straight thaumic interpolation and solve for the correct equations later, similar to what Starlight did with our initial readings on the anomaly." After some more writing, her horn flashed, and the ball of energy vanished. "I need to get on this right now. I'll see you back at the house later."

"Is there anything else I can do?" asked Shining.

Twilight stepped away from the portal. "Renew the shield spell around this place. And if you would, please ... um ..." She trailed off, frowned, and glanced around her.

"What's the matter?"

"Strange," Twilight murmured. "I felt a slight tingling for a moment."

"Is it from the portal?" Shining asked in a wary voice.

"No, it felt more like it was from inside me," said Twilight. "Perhaps I stepped through some lingering plasma energy. Anyway, as I was going to say, could you ask the Royal Guard to station a contingent here to keep an eye on the portal?"

"You got it," said Shining. "I hope you have some luck sorting this out."

"So do I." Twilight's horn flashed, and she vanished with a pop of teleportation magic.





Starlight slowly paced back and forth, two books levitated before her. One was the burnt remnants of Sunset's journal, the other was an account from the unicorn mages who kept the portal open seven hundred years ago. "Trying to piece together Sunset's research is not going to be easy."

Spike leaned back in his chair, taking a break from his research. He set down his Power Ponies comic book in his lap. "At least you don't have to translate ancient Equestrian this time."

"Yes, but even seven hundred years ago, the speech pattern was archaic. Ugh, if I never see another 'thou' or 'thy' in my lifetime, it will be too soon." Starlight set down both books on the table. She picked up a quill and made a note on a scroll. "I'll be glad when this is over and things can get back to normal."

Behind her came a sudden pop. Spike noted the intense concern on Twilight's face and murmured, "I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon."

"Starlight, we have a problem," said Twilight as she trotted up.

Starlight turned and sighed. "Of course we do. What now?"

"I got my first look at that rift." Twilight set down her notes next to Starlight's. "It's far more stable than I was led to believe."

"Did Celestia lie to us again?"

"No, it's not that," said Twilight. "It likely had been unstable when it collapsed around Aunt Sunset, but over time, this new infusion of energy somehow re-stabilized it."

"But what does that mean?" asked Spike.

"I don't know yet." Twilight peered down at her notes. "Starlight, what progress have you made in studying the data from the portal that opened seven hundred years ago?"

"Not a whole lot," said Starlight. "First we got side-tracked by learning about the natives of the other world, and now I'm trying to wade through all this over-complicated archaic speech." She glanced over to Twilight's notes. "What's that?"

"A direct thaumic derivation of the energy from the rift."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Looks like a mess to me."

"Other magicks are mixed with the portal magic." Twilight glanced at the books Starlight was working on and picked them up in her magic. "Let me work on sorting this out and see if I can derive a basic set of equations. Then we can try to pick apart the portal magic from the other magic. Whatever is left over is what's causing the rift to surge."

"What should I do in the meantime?" said Starlight.

As Twilight contemplated an answer, a voice called out, "There you are, Twilight!"

Starlight looked past Twilight and saw Princess Cadance approaching. Twilight set her books aside and turned away from the table.

Spike smirked and leaned forward. "You wanna reconsider?" he whispered to Starlight.

Starlight grinned. "Not a chance. I still say it won't happen."

"I tell you, they're gonna do it."

Twilight trotted up to Cadance. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," Twilight said in a somber voice.

"No way," Starlight whispered to Spike. "It's too serious an occasion."

Spike grinned. "If you say so."

"This is a trying time for your family, but I hope to help in any way possible," said Cadance.

"See?" Starlight whispered. "Even Princess Cadance realizes this needs to be more--"

Twilight and Cadance slowly broke out into smiles, and then into a little dance. "Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!" they sang together. "Clap your hooves and do a little shake!"

Starlight face-hoofed.

Spike smirked and held out his arm.

"Fine," Starlight growled. She levitated several bits into his open claw.

Spike chuckled. "Easy money."

Twilight and Cadance hugged each other. "Thanks, Cadance, I needed that," said Twilight in a soft voice.

"I just talked to Auntie Celestia," said Cadance. "She's really broken up over this. I don't think I've seen her this upset before."

"I sympathize with her, but I can't be distracted by it now," said Twilight in a solemn voice. "I can't look to her for the answers like I have so many times in the past."

"You really feel like you can't trust her?" asked Cadance in a concerned voice.

Twilight looked pained. "I don't like saying that. I'll get over it, given time. It's not that I think she'll be deceptive, more like her judgment right now is too colored by her feelings for Aunt Sunset. I can't really fault her for that."

"What about you, Twilight?" said Cadance. "I'm told you were inconsolable when you were a foal right after learning Sunset had died."

"It does hurt if I dwell on it too much, but I don't have the burden of guilt like Celestia does. Cadance, when this is over, I think we should broach the idea of a formal funeral for Sunset Shimmer. It will give everypony a sense of closure."

"Yes, I agree. It will be very difficult for everypony, but I think your family will be better for it in the end."

Twilight smiled and hugged Cadance again. "I really am glad you're here. As much as I love my immediate family, I needed somepony who was a little more removed from it."

Cadance smiled. "I'll try to be here as long as you need me."

"Thank you." Twilight took a step back. "Now, I need to get to work."





As Twilight buried her muzzle in books after talking to Cadance, Starlight headed over to the restricted section of the high magic archive. While Sunset had burned her notes, Twilight had clearly seen some surviving data on Sunset's research while wrestling with the dark magic spell. Starlight soon discovered that Sunset had briefly -- and indirectly -- collaborated with several instructors while researching how to make transformation magic permanent, and they in turn had shared their insights.

Starlight found four scrolls relevant to the topic and quickly became fascinated. These instructors had shown little alarm in these queries, as it had been presented as a thought experiment, and all had deemed the problem insurmountable. Even when the discussions had turned to the idea of modifying the morphic resonance, one instructor conceded it was possible in theory, but concluded that there simply wasn't a proper delivery mechanism for the magic needed to accomplish the (supposedly hypothetical) goal.

"Ugh, this is hopeless!" Twilight suddenly cried.

Starlight levitated the scrolls she was reading and trotted over to where Twilight had planted her face to the table. "Um, maybe this is not the best time to ask how it's going," Starlight said in a tentative voice.

Twilight lifted her head. "It's not. I don't have enough data about how her ultra-dense plasma research led her to this point." She threw up her fore-hooves. "I don't even have the basic equations I need to identify the other magic!" 

Starlight set her scrolls on the table and glanced around. "Where's Spike?"

"He went to check how my family is doing." Twilight glanced at the scrolls. "What are those?"

"Data on Sunset's transformation research."

"Really??" Twilight grabbed them in her magic. "This is what I was seeing when I was exploring the extent of the dark magic spell. I was wondering where it came from."

Starlight smirked. "Sunset was very clever in how she covered her tracks. She got another pony named Star Singer to talk to her professors instead. That likely threw Princess Celestia further off the trail."

"Star Singer?" said Twilight. "That's Moon Dancer's aunt."

"Moon Dancer?" said Starlight. "Was that the pony you told me you reconciled with a year ago?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So I'm sure she'll be glad to put you in touch with her aunt."

"Except for one problem," said Twilight. "Her family is still under the influence of Celestia's spell. I have no idea how close Aunt Sunset and Star Singer were. I'm trying to limit how many ponies may be traumatized by these memories, especially after seeing how hard it hit mine."

Starlight shrugged. "Still, I think this might be useful, especially if we need to undo any damage Sunset has caused."

"If we even can, considering Sunset intended the transformation to be permanent once it was complete. We might be better off tracking down the pegasus Aunt Sunset created from a griffon if we need to pursue it any further." Twilight picked up the scrolls and read silently for a few moments. "So the morphic resonance is tied to the genetic code. I had suspected as much."

"Reading those did give me an appreciation for how clever Sunset was," said Starlight.

"One professor had suggested that a properly crafted potion might do the trick, but it would require such a massive infusion of magic, it would likely kill the creature before the transformation was completed. I wonder if that's when Aunt Sunset realized conventional means wouldn't work."

Starlight smiled. "At the same time, it also revealed Sunset's limitations."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you notice anything missing from the data?"

Twilight glanced over the scrolls. "Nothing that stands out. Why?"

"There's no mention of cutie marks."

"Maybe she just didn't discuss it with them," said Twilight. "It would be a dead giveaway that she planned to change other creatures into ponies."

"Or she didn't figure it out," said Starlight. "It took me a long time to properly craft the unmarking spell, and that was with all my attention focused on it. The magic behind cutie marks is very unique and complex."

Twilight set down the scrolls. "It's really all academic at this point, and it's not getting us any closer to solving the dilemma with the portal."

Starlight looked thoughtful. "You said earlier that the portal being stable is a problem. Why?"

"Because it can be opened more easily with the application of a properly crafted spell once the underlying mechanics are understood," said Twilight. "From either end."

"But the natives of that world don't have magic as far as we can tell."

"I know, yet there's magic leaking through, which means it's concentrated somewhere near the other end of the portal."

"I don't know if this is relevant or not," said Starlight. "But I did some more research on the past explorations of that other world. I'm beginning to think that they visited completely different areas of the same world each time. The climate was different, the culture was different, everything was different."

"That would make sense if the other end of the portal had no anchor," said Twilight. "It would open almost anywhere."

"What would be needed to anchor it?"

"A magical source of some sort," said Twilight.

"The second expedition had accidentally left some minor magical items behind," said Starlight. "But would that be enough?"

"It would require a single, more powerful source. A properly enchanted crystal, for example. A skilled unicorn could use herself as an anchor. Or if she were the only unicorn around, just her ambient magical field would ... uh ..."

Twilight trailed off, her eyes widening. She and Starlight both looked at the transformation scrolls at the same time.

"No," said Twilight in a small voice. "That can't be."

"But didn't Princess Celestia say she saw her die?"

Twilight paused. "No, she didn't. She said she heard the scream, then she saw the blood and shards. She never said she actually saw Sunset get killed."

"Then maybe she was only injured and made it through."

"But the portal would've closed instantly," Twilight protested. "Death would've been quick and complete. Anything that survived the trip through the portal ... would be just a mangled mess."

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "Would she have had time to scream?"

Twilight's pupils shrank. "No, she wouldn't. Unless she simply knew she was doomed."

"Or she was trying to make it look like she was."

"But that means Aunt Sunset had designs on transforming an entire world from the very start!" Twilight exclaimed. "And she specifically planned to make absolutely sure she couldn't be stopped! Nopony would be that terrible!"

"Yeah, that's almost as bad as a pony trying to create an alternate timeline just to preserve her crazy philosophy," Starlight deadpanned. "Good thing nopony tried that."

Twilight frowned. She snatched up the scrolls on transformation magic. "There's one way to find out."

"What are you going to do?"

"My original plan, but in reverse," said Twilight. "I had planned to derive the portal equations and thus solve for the unknown magic. Instead, I'm going to assume that the additional magic coming through the portal is transformation magic. I'll apply those equations and solve for the portal magic. If that gives me a nonsensical result, then we're wrong and we have to look elsewhere."

"And if it gives you a sensible result?" asked Starlight.

"Then Sunset Shimmer may still be alive in a world that has absolutely no defense against her magic."

> Chapter 19 - Fear
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday morning, Sarah squeezed out as much of the water as she could from her hair before stepping out of the shower, only to feel water continue to run down the backs of her legs. Her shoulders slumped as she stepped back inside long enough to squeeze out her tail as well.

She slipped into her bathrobe before cracking open the door to let some of the steam dissipate. She stepped onto the scale and let her arms fall to the sides, her hands disappearing halfway into the sleeves. "This is not the way I wanted to lose weight," she murmured as she stared at the LED display.

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Honey, you okay?" came Harold's voice.

"That's a loaded question these days," said Sarah. "Yes, I'm fine. You can come in."

The door opened enough to let Harold slip inside.

Sarah stepped off the scale and turned her head towards Harold. "Have you looked in the mirror yet?"

"Not yet," said Harold. "What color are they?"

"Yellow," said Sarah. "You have yellow eyes."

"That was Jenny's second choice." Harold folded his arms. "So, uh, about you ..."

"Yes, I have a tail," Sarah said stiffly as she stared at herself in the mirror. "What about the kids?"

"Jenny's hair is a little thicker and more wavy. Bob's normal. Laura is still in bed."

"This late? Maybe you should check on her."

"I heard her snoring when I went by her door. I'd just as soon let her sleep with as much trouble as she's had lately." Harold paused. "You still planning on heading out today?"

Sarah grabbed a towel and started drying her hair. "You saw how few vegetables the grocery stores in town had yesterday. I'm going to drive down to Silverthorne."

"Want me to come along?"

"I'd rather you'd stay and watch the kids." Sarah sighed. "I know what I said yesterday about foisting the kids off on you, but I'm better at picking produce than you are."

"Then I need a ruling from you before you go," said Harold. "Jenny wants to go out this morning without supervision."

Sarah let the hand holding the towel fall to her side. "Harry, this is the worst time she could be left on her own. I don't want her getting into trouble, not with as tense as things are in town."

"She said she'd be with James," said Harold.

"And if I called James' mother to find out if she really is allowing him to see her again, I wonder what I would hear?"

Harold rubbed the back of his neck, which was covered with far more hair than was to his liking. "Yeah, I know, but maybe we should just let the kids be kids."

"And risk Jenny doing something even more stupid than she's already done?" Sarah lifted the towel and resumed drying her hair. "I almost wish we'd never learned about Turner, or that Bob thinks we're turning into horses."

"Ponies."

"Please, don't argue semantics with me. I'm not sure you understand just how helpless I feel right now."

"What, seriously?" said Harold. "Who the hell do you think has two families that he can't do anything to help? I haven't had a single one of my father's neighbors call me back."

Sarah turned to Harold and drew him into a hug. "I'm sorry, I've been completely ignoring your side of this."

Harold hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry I raised my voice."

Sarah drew back and looked into his eyes. "If Bob is right, we're turning into animals. What if that comes with the same intelligence level as an animal? I'd almost want to be dead than live like that, and we're going to be forced to see it happen to Laura first."

"Honey, please, this isn't helping." Harold sighed. "You're not thinking anything I haven't already thought of. As far as I can tell, none of our mental faculties have been affected."

"Yet," Sarah muttered.

"Of all the rumors that we've heard about Turner, acting like a dumb animal was not one of them. I think someone would've noticed that."

"I hope you're right." Sarah returned to the mirror and picked up the hair dryer.

"So what about Jenny?" Harold asked. "What if I talk to James myself and make him understand the need for caution?"

"My impression is that James is a pushover where Jenny is concerned," said Sarah. "Or he would've stopped her any number of times in the past."

"Then I'll shadow them," said Harold. "You said yesterday you were concerned about burdening Laura anyway, and it's not like I have a lot to do around here."

Sarah considered for another long moment. "All right, I trust you to handle this."

Harold nodded. "Do you want me to get breakfast started?"

"You can probably still stomach the smell of meat cooking better than I can. And besides--" She gestured to her backside. "--I've still got more hair to take care of."





Janet stopped the car at a light and ran her hands through her hair. "Kevin, I keep going back to the idea you planted in my head that there's something on his property that caused this."

Janet's words had been the first attempt by either of them to break the tense silence that had settled over them since leaving the hotel. Kevin had been grateful for the quiet, as it seemed that all Janet could do was ask him questions for which he still had no answers. "Does he have someplace in his house that he has locked against you?"

"All his food and water supplies are always under lock and key. It's hard to find anyplace in that house that's not barred against entry."

"What about the rest of his properly outside his compound?"

"Empty. Just grass, weeds, and some old outbuildings which I've already searched." Janet turned onto a side-street. "Maybe we're grasping at straws."

"Anything is worth considering right now," said Kevin. "You mentioned to me that you thought the imaginary Afghani girl was the one who made some sort of 'promise' to him. Does she ever make an 'appearance' while you're there?"

"Conveniently, no," said Janet. "As much as I hate the idea of having him forcefully committed, if it means getting his head straightened out as well as his body, I'm willing to do it. But I've tried to get power of attorney over him before and failed. Some legal snag always gets in my way."

Kevin looked thoughtful as Janet pulled onto a dirt road at the edge of town. "Perhaps we need to believe three impossible things before breakfast."

Janet glanced at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's a quote from Alice in Wonderland."

"No offense, Kevin, but now's not the time for fairy tales."

"Why not? Everything happening is about as logical as one. So I'll start: what if this imaginary companion of your father's is real?"

"Really, you want me to believe that a little girl from Afghanistan followed him home and somehow hasn't aged in--"

"No, of course not," said Kevin. "But what if he only believes that this person is a little girl?"

Janet hesitated. "That's a little scary, Kevin. Do you think we should tell someone about ..." Janet trailed off as she came around a curve and saw the phalanx of flashing blue and red lights up ahead. "Oh, no, what happened?!"

"Janet, calm down and pull over."

A policeman up ahead held up his hand in a stopping gesture. Janet pulled the car over, yanked the emergency brake, and bolted over to the officer.

"Ma'am, you're going to have to turn around," the cop said as Janet approached.

"What's going on? I need to know!" Janet said as Kevin got out of the car.

"I'm sorry, but we're conducting a police investigation."

"My name is Janet Turner. I'm Fred Turner's daughter. His place is at the end of this road. Is he all right?"

"Can I see your ID, ma'am?"

Janet fumbled with her purse. As Kevin approached, another officer at the scene stepped up and nodded. "Hey, Doc."

"Hey, Rick," said Kevin. "Any chance on finding out what's happening?"

"Soon as we check the lady's ID, yeah," said Rick.

The other officer turned to him. "We can't go announcing our business to everyone, Rick. Close family, yes, but--"

"Take it easy, Jeb," said Rick. "This is Turner's physician, Doctor Kevin Conner."

Janet finally got out her driver's license and handed it to Jeb. He looked it over before handing it back. "Thank you. There's been a disturbance at your father's place. We had a report of people trespassing on his property. They were seen carrying weapons, so we cordoned off the area to prevent civilian injuries."

Janet paled.

"If there are any injuries, officer, I would be happy to help until an ambulance arrives," said Kevin.

"Thanks, Doc, but so far we're good," said Rick. "Seems like the perps tried to break into the place. Not that they got far with as tough as that place is built. It looks like no shots were fired. They've been apprehended, but we're searching the property for accomplices."

Janet swallowed hard. "Has anyone checked on my father?"

"They've been trying to, ma'am, but he won't come to the door," said Jeb. "He didn't report the trespass. A park ranger on a nearby hiking trail called it in when he saw that the trespassers were armed."

"If I may," said Kevin. "Chief Barrows told me he wanted to find an excuse for the police to get a look at him. Would this not be a good excuse?"

"Without a warrant, we can't force him to talk to us."

"Can I authorize you to break in or something?" said Janet. "I really need to know if he's okay. Kevin ... Doctor Conner was going to examine him."

Jeb adjusted his hat. "Ma'am, from what they told us, we're going to need a damn battering ram to get inside. We've been hearing his mental state is in question, but unless he's a menace to the public or we get a court order, there's not much we can do."

"Then let me go up to the house," Janet snapped. "He may be more willing to talk to me."

"Ma'am, once we're done here and gone, you can do whatever you--"

"Jeb, hang on," said Rick as he took out his radio. "Let me talk to the boys at the property."

Jeb frowned. "We can't violate police procedure."

"Look, the chief is riding us to get a look at this Turner guy. If the lady here can help us with that, then we should go for it."

"Any idea why these men were on his property, Rick?" Kevin asked.

"They wanted to see the 'horse man,' as they put it," said Rick. "Though considering the shotguns, they probably wanted to do more than just talk." He lifted the radio to his face. "Let me see if we got the all clear yet."

As Rick spoke into his radio, Janet turned to Kevin. "Now I'm torn about getting him out of his bunker," she said in a low voice. "It's almost like he's safer inside there."

"Only if there isn't something in there with him that caused this mess in the first place," said Kevin.

Rick lowered the radio as he approached. "The perps are packed into the cars and search turned up negative on accomplices, but positive on weirdness."

Jeb raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"The boys are reporting that the air feels like it's just after an electric storm, but without the smell of ozone," said Rick. "Sort of weirdly tingly."

"That's what I felt when I was inside, only worse," Janet said.

"Better call it in, " Jeb said. "Let the Chief figure out what he wants to do. Meanwhile, I'll escort Ms. Turner and Doctor Conner here to the property."





Laura rolled over in bed and squinted to force her eyes to focus on the clock. "Mrg, overslept." While she was grateful for the extra rest, it meant it would be at least an hour before she was fully awake.

She tried to sit up, only to flinch and utter a yelp as her tail caught under her legs. She yanked her panties back up into place, though this was an increasingly losing effort. Besides being too big for her now, they also bunched up under her tail, as she didn't have the patience to thread her tail under them. At this rate, she was going to have to start borrowing clothing from Jenny.

"Seriously, she said yes?"

Laura felt something twitch on one side of her head. She jerked her head towards the sound of her sister's voice, expecting to see Jenny standing right there. Instead, she stared at the closed door of her bedroom.

"Yes, she did," said Harold.

"And I can go without Laura hanging around?"

"Yes, but with some caveats. You're going to tell me exactly where you intend to go, and I'll be out and about to make sure you stick to that plan."

"Why are they talking so damn loud?" Laura muttered as she stood up. She squared her shoulders back, but it did little to alleviate the ache that had spread to them from her upper back. She trudged to the door, nearly tripping on the bottom edge of her nightgown.

Jenny uttered a dramatic sigh as Laura reached the door. "Oh, I see. So the knight has sold out to the Fae Queen and just wants to spy on the poor peasant girl and reveal all her plans to the evil sorceress."

Laura opened the door and flinched at how much louder the conversation became.

"Very funny," said Harold. "I'm going to try to give you two as much space as possible." He glanced at Laura. "But I'm still going to require you to report in when--"

He stopped and stared. Jenny turned her head, and her mouth dropped open.

Laura leaned her forehead against the door frame. "Sorry, I overslept. Just let me wake up a little more and I'll leave you to it."

Harold and Jenny continued to stare.

Laura lifted her head. "What is it?"

"Oh, my God," Jenny said in a very small voice.

Laura's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Laura, please, don't panic," said Harold in a steady but strained voice. "If you're still feeling okay in every other respect, you ... you should be all right."

"What are you talking about?" She felt another twitch and raised her hand to it. "What are you seeing that--?"

Her mouth froze in mid-sentence as her hand touched not her head as she expected, but her ear, sticking up from the top of her head beside her curly orange hair and covered in yellow fur. She swallowed hard and slowly lowered her now shaking hand.

Harold grasped her gently by the arms. "Laura, you're going to be all right."

Laura let out a ragged breath and nodded quickly, ears flattening slightly. "I know. I-I'm okay. I've got freaking pony ears on my head, but I'm okay." Her eyes shimmered. "P-please tell me there's nothing else. It's just the ears this morning, right?"

Harold looked her over and pulled her into a hug. "I don't see anything else, honey."

Laura closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I-I can handle this."

"Laura, if you need to ... if you need to vent or--"

Laura gently broke off the embrace and shook her head. "I refuse to melt down again." She forced a small, tremulous smile. "Hey, um, at least they've stopped buzzing and I can hear better. So there's something good."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think so." Laura took another deep breath. "Compared to how I freaked out about the tail, I'm taking this a little better than I thought I would. I'm still really weirded out, but I feel okay otherwise. I ... I guess I'm still healthy otherwise, right?"

Harold managed a small smile. "I'm really proud of you for remaining calm. Let me go brace your Mom for this. We should take you to the doctor."

"I don't see the point," said Laura in a flat voice. "He hasn't been able to do anything for me."

"I'll talk to your mother first and see what she wants to do," said Harold. "Are you hungry at all?"

"Yes, very. I really could use some breakfast."

"I'll get it started soon as I talk to your mother," said Harold. "Anything you prefer in your omelet?"

"Other than no meat? I'm good with anything."

"All right, honey. I'll see you downstairs."

Laura nodded quickly and watched him head off. She looked at Jenny. "So what are you staring at?"

Jenny lowered her gaze to Laura's face, though her eyes flicked back up even as she spoke. "Nothing."

"You're staring at my ears. Stop it."

Jenny forced her eyes away again. "Sorry."

"I don't know what you find so fascinating about them anyway."

Jenny hesitated. Her eyes flicked up to them again. "I just wanted to make sure they were real."

Laura's ears drew back. "What, seriously? You think I would fake something like this?"

"No, I didn't mean that."

"Then what the hell did you mean?"

Jenny was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know. Never mind, I have to go get ready to meet James."

Laura opened her mouth to reply, but Jenny had already fled.





Janet negotiated the car through the gate that was the only break in the fence which surrounded Fred Turner's property. The wheels slipped briefly as they transitioned from dirt to loose gravel.

Kevin's eyes roamed around the property, though there was little to see other than weeds, tree stumps, and metal poles with security cameras perched atop them. Ahead, past the police car in the lead, was a rectangular, single story structure of concrete. The few windows he could see were covered in metal shutters.

Janet suddenly shivered. "Do you feel that, Kevin?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Kevin turned his head towards her. "Pardon?"

"That weird sensation." Janet glanced to the side. "And that sense there's always something right at the edge of your senses."

Kevin sat as still as the shaking of the car would allow. Patches of very faint tingling came and went. "Very vaguely. I might not have realized it if you hadn't pointed it out."

Janet glanced at him. "You mean it's not getting worse?"

Kevin remained still again. "Maybe. It's hard to tell." He glanced about. "I do get the odd sensation of something being at the edge of my vision, though."

The police car pulled off to the side about fifty feet from the building. Two other police cars were parked in a clearing. Two suspects sat in the back seat of the closest while a third suspect sat in the other. His head was bowed, and his shoulders quaked. Another officer was speaking with a park ranger.

Jeb got out of his car as Janet pulled in beside him. Another officer stepped over to them. Jeb jerked his head towards the other cars. "Get anything out of 'em?"

"One of them started blubbering all over us soon as the cuffs were on him," said the officer as Janet and Kevin left the car. "We reminded him of his Miranda rights, but he wouldn't stop. Said his kid woke up with horse ears this morning, and he went a little nuts."

Janet's eyes widened. Kevin looked on thoughtfully.

"He the mastermind of this?" asked Jeb.

"Seems like it. Claimed that bringin' the shotguns was his pals' idea. He was the only unarmed one, so maybe his story holds water." The officer glanced at the compound. "Still no luck with Turner."

"The lady here thinks she might be able to talk to him," said Jeb.

"Well, she's welcome to try. God knows we've done all we can."

Jeb turned to Janet. "You want me to come with you, ma'am?"

"No, that'll just scare him off," said Janet. She pointed to a camera. "He'll know you're at the door even if you don't say anything."

"All right, but if you do need me, just holler." Jeb adjusted his hat and headed over to the other officers.

"This way," Janet said.

They came to a slab-like door that Kevin guessed it was either steel or steel-plated. A camera was mounted above it, and to the right was a single button above a weather-beaten speaker. The odd sensations that had only barely registered in the car now were more apparent.

Janet thumbed the button and said, "Father? I have Doctor Conner with me. Are you all right?"

Silence was the immediate answer, save for the distant squawks of the police radios.

"Please, father, answer us," Janet cried. "Look at your monitors. We don't have the police with us."

"What do you want?" Fred's voice crackled over the speaker.

"Father, are you all right?"

"I'm talkin' to you, aren't I? What are you doing here?"

"I'm worried about you, and I thought--" Janet began.

"Well, stop worryin'," said Fred. "Just head back to your hotel room, and take your government lackey with you." 

"He is not a lackey!" Janet snapped. "Don't you remember what you said about him when I brought you back from the doctor's office?"

"Yeah, I remember," Fred murmured, his voice low enough that it was almost drowned out by static.

"Then let us in and let Doctor Conner examine you," said Janet. "You can trust him!"

"I'm not opening that door with the police outside!"

"They're about to leave. We can wait until they're gone."

Fred paused. "This isn't a good time, anyway. I got company."

Janet exchanged a look with Kevin. "Company? Who?" Janet's eyes widened. "The little girl?"

"Yeah, and we're having a private conversation."

Kevin placed a hand on Janet's shoulder. "Janet, may I?" he asked softly, gesturing to the intercom.

Janet nodded and stepped to the side.

"Mr. Turner, this is Doctor Conner," said Kevin.

"What the hell do you want?" Fred growled.

"Mr. Turner, Janet shared your feelings towards me. I hope that you have not changed your mind. I would much prefer we have a mutual basis of respect."

Fred remained silent.

"Your daughter has informed me of your military past," said Kevin. "I wish to express my deepest gratitude for what you have done for our country."

"Damn straight you should," Fred muttered. "And you saw how it's repaying me."

"Yes, and that's a terrible tragedy that I hope to remedy."

"You still claim you're not in on this?" Fred said. "Why should I believe you when you don't even have this?"

"All I can tell you, Mr. Turner, is that I've always had a robust immune system. I rarely come down with the ailments that my patients have."

"And just how do you explain that, huh?" Fred demanded.

"I don't think anyone has ever asked that of me," said Kevin in a slightly bemused voice. "It's not something I've really thought about."

"You're just weaseling out of the question!" Fred exclaimed. "There's gotta be a reason you're immune to it! You gotta have something. Some sorta mutation, mebbe, or some kinda secret serum you're not sharing. Or somepony else is helping you."

Janet's eyes widened. "Did he just say ...?"

"I can assure you, none of that is remotely true," said Kevin. "But I am more than willing to submit myself to examination by other physicians to determine--"

Kevin stopped. The vague sensation had changed subtly, as if it were becoming more concentrated. Yet before he could react any further, it faded away.

"Kevin, what's the matter?" Janet said.

A faint "pop" crackled over the intercom before Fred spoke again. "I'll tell you what the matter is. This is all just a big setup. Janet, if you ever want to talk to me again, you'll dump this government minion and come to your senses. My friend won't come back until everyone else is gone!"

Janet surged forward towards the intercom, her eyes shimmering. "Father, what did you mean by that? Did your friend leave? Where did she go?"

"That doesn't matter," Fred muttered. "But I can't see you right now."

"Please, tell us," Janet begged. "Has your condition gotten worse?"

"That doesn't matter, either," Fred said in a low voice. "I'm closer to the truth than I've ever been before."

"Did the little girl tell you that?"

"You don't believe me anyway when I talk about her, so there's no point in answering. I'll do whatever it takes to know, even if --" He paused.

"Even if what?" Janet demanded.

"Janet, go home," said Fred in a low voice. "Just go home. I'll be all right. I've been promised everything will be all right in the end."

The intercom crackled one last time and went dead.

"Wait, please!" Janet cried. She mashed the intercom button. "I have to see you. I have to know you're all right!"

Silence.

"Father, answer me!"

More silence.

Kevin grasped her shoulder and squeezed gently. "He's not going to answer."

Janet swallowed hard and straightened up. She wiped her eyes with her hands. "He's too far gone, Kevin," she said in a hollow voice. "I can't get through to him anymore. What am I going to do now?"

"Let's get away from here, for one thing," said Kevin. "And then we'll figure out what to do next."





Sarah turned to face Harold as he followed her into her office. "Close the door, please."

"Jenny already left ten minutes ago, and I said I would shadow her and James," said Harold.

"This is important."

Harold sighed and closed the door. "All right, what's this about?"

"I never told you what those petroglyphs looked like, did I?"

"The ones that were defaced? No, but I guessed it was something that promoted your theories."

"I'm not sure anymore," said Sarah. "I'm wondering if Greg was right and ... and it's tied into everything that's happening in town."

Harold looked askance at her. "Run that one by me again?"

"The petroglyphs looked horse-like," said Sarah. "The way the ears were shaped, they looked so much like Laura's do."

"Honey, are you sure you're not remembering them incorrectly?"

"I just had Greg email me the pics!" Sarah fell into her chair before her computer and pulled up her email client. "Look!"

Harold leaned forward. Sarah scrolled down to the picture that had the edge detection done, the three figures outlined in heavy black lines.

Sarah traced the outline of an ear with the mouse. "See what I mean?"

Harold pointed. "Is it just me, or does one have a wing and the other--"

"Never mind that," Sarah snapped. "That's not relevant right now."

Harold straightened up. "Then what is? Yeah, fine, there's a resemblance. What does that have to do with anything?"

"What if it's not a coincidence? What if someone is doing this deliberately, and this was some sort of evidence or warning that they had to wipe?"

Harold ran a hand over his face. "That's a hell of a leap of logic, Sarah. Weren't these pictures inscribed centuries ago?"

"Harry, we have a daughter with pony ears. Can you blame me for wanting answers as to why?"

Harold frowned. "I want answers, too, but I don't want to wrap our minds around the axle entertaining conspiracy theories."

"My point is, maybe we should bring this to someone's attention," said Sarah. "I admit, I may be completely off base. Frankly, I hope I am, as the idea of someone doing this deliberately scares the hell out of me. But if I'm not, someone needs to know."

"All right," said Harold. "Who should we contact?"

"I'm not sure. The police? The FBI?"

"I doubt the police would understand it enough to be able to do anything about it," said Harold. "Would the FBI even believe us?"

"You can say that after seeing Laura?"

"Sarah, realize the implication of what you're proposing," said Harold. "You were worried about being under surveillance. You really want to draw that much attention to yourself?"

Sarah hesitated. "Greg was the one who suggested that. Maybe he was wrong."

"You can't be sure of that."

"No one has made any threats. No one has said so much as a word about it! Don't you think if someone really did want to silence me, they'd be a little more obvious about it?"

Harold covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. "Sarah, you're contradicting yourself! First you say this could be evidence that some big bad out there is turning us into God knows what, and now you're saying they're not a threat? Make up your mind!"

"I want someone to fix Laura!" Sarah briefly grabbed a fistful of her hair. "I want someone to fix all of this! It's obvious no one has a goddamned clue! I-if that means I have to put myself in jeopardy--"

"What about putting our family in jeopardy?!" Harold yelled. "You want to drag Laura into this on the basis of some stupid drawings made by some long dead Native Americans that could have absolutely nothing to do with this? I mean, come on, you're supposed to be the scientist of the family!"

"I'm considering all possibilities! And if there is even the remotest--"

"And what if this is something different? What if someone is suppressing this information for some other purpose? You'll just be adding one more problem to a pile we already--"

He was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. "Um, hi," came Laura's tentative, muffled voice through the door.

Sarah exchanged a troubled look with her husband before opening the door. Laura's ears flattened slightly. Sarah was distracted by the movement and delayed her response another few seconds. "I thought you had gone back to your room."

Laura's ears slowly rose. "Um, I did, but you got kinda loud."

"You heard us from all the way ..." Sarah trailed off and stared at her daughter's ears.

Laura pointed at her ears. "These things are kinda sensitive. Sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry," said Harold softly. "What is it?"

Laura averted her eyes. "Well, it sounded like you were talking about me. I thought ... I thought maybe I should have a say in this."

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "How much of the conversation did you hear?"

Laura forced her gaze forward. "From about when you talked about fixing me. I ... I'm not ... do you really think I'm broken somehow?"

"I didn't mean it that way. I just meant ... honey, you're sick, there's something wrong that ... um ..."

Laura's ears drew back. "Except I don't feel sick. I know I'm not normal, but--" She stopped when she saw Sarah staring at her ears. "Mom?"

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to stare, I just --"

"I know. They move around on their own. I don't really control it. But ... this is something maybe I can control."

"What do you mean?" Harold asked.

Laura's shimmering eyes met her father's gaze, her ears drooping. "Well, you're worried about me getting hurt. I'm ... I'm willing to take a risk if it means helping someone figure this out."

"You don't have to do this," said Sarah.

"I don't exactly want anything bad to happen to me, but--"

"Laura, why are you saying this?" Harold asked.

Laura's eyes flicked between him and Sarah. "I'm supposed to be the responsible one," she said in a low voice.

"Nothing says you have to shoulder every responsibility that comes by," Sarah declared. "I'm sorry if I made you think that."

"You didn't. I just ... I just want a chance to do something right."

"What makes you think you haven't?"

Laura hesitated. "Jenny doesn't even remember what happened. She doesn't remember the big storm."

Sarah exchanged a confused look with Harold. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said! She doesn't remember. She told me that just the other day. You do know what I'm talking about, right? The one with the tornado?"

"That's not something we can forget," said Harold. "We didn't know whether you and Jenny were alive or dead until we got home."

"We're just fortunate you kept your wits about you when that happened and kept Jenny safe," said Sarah.

Laura stared. "You're kidding me, right? Didn't she tell you everything that happened?"

"Jenny said she hadn't been scared at all the whole time," said Harold.

"Why would she say that??"

"Because you knew what to do," said Sarah in a tentative voice.

"I choked!" Laura cried, her ears flattening. "I-I knew what to do, but I choked. I couldn't remember what to do until Jenny was too scared to be moved! I failed her! I failed you!" Her eyes teared. "I want to make up for that. And i-if that means I have to risk something bad happening--"

Sarah pulled her into a hug. "No, please, Laura, stop."

Laura squeezed her eyes shut, but tears leaked from them just the same. "I just want to do something. I want to do the right thing."

Sarah hugged her tighter. "Laura, shhh, it's okay."

Harold's eyes misted as he drew close and slid an arm around his daughter. "Laura, I'm sorry, we had no idea you felt like this."

Laura leaned gently into her mother. "I feel so stupid. You don't need me melting down like this."

Sarah lowered her head, pressing her cheek against Laura's head, inadvertently squeezing one of her daughter's ears between them, the fur soft against her skin. Laura relaxed in her arms. "Laura, you don't need to apologize for how you feel. Your father is right, we had no idea."

Laura had managed to calm down, but she was reluctant to draw back, as if she craved the simple comfort of snuggling this close to her mother. She finally took a deep breath and lifted her head. She wiped her eyes with her hand. "I don't want to see anyone get hurt," she said in a softer voice. "But I also don't want to just roll up in a scared little ball. I don't want any of us to be like that. I-I let Jenny do that, and it could've gotten her killed."

"I just want to protect this family," said Harold.

"Then you understand how I feel," said Laura. "You want to do something but you can't. So maybe we should take a chance. Maybe Mom can do with what Tina and I did with my ... um ..."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "Did with your what?"

Laura blushed. "Tina helped me take pictures of my tail and put them on the internet."

Sarah face-palmed. "Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"Just my tail! I had my clothes on. Tina didn't use my name. It went viral overnight. Maybe you should just post your stuff online."

"I can't post anonymously," said Sarah. "I have to associate it with my name so at least the scientific community realizes it comes from a reliable source." She paused and frowned. "Well, as reliable as it can be for peers who don't think I'm crazy."

"I don't know about this," said Harold.

"But that would spread the word more, right?" said Laura. "Wouldn't that make it harder for something bad to happen? Or am I just being naive?"

Sarah loosened her arms around Laura. "No, you're making a good point. Your father and I need time to decide what to do. I'm proud of you for wanting to help."

Laura slowly smiled and drew back

"We'll talk more about what happened between you and Jenny," said Sarah softly. "I promise."

Laura nodded quickly. "I just ... I guess I have a lot to think about myself."

"Just so long as you realize that you did nothing wrong," said Harold.

"I'm trying to tell myself that, but ... I'll get over it."

Sarah gave her a pained look. "Do you want to talk more about this now?"

Laura shook her head. "You have more important things to worry about."

"You're always important to us."

"I-I know, but ... you need to figure out what to do before ... well, before we all have these stupid ears. I'll talk to you later."

Laura fled before either of them could say another word.





Janet sat in the lounge of the hotel, nursing a cup of coffee. "So you did feel it get worse?"

"Yes, but only for a very brief moment when we were at the door," said Kevin. "I'm not quite sure what it was. It wasn't like anything I had felt before."

"You don't think it was something like ... like radiation, do you?"

"I talked to Chief Barrows briefly on the phone while you were in the ladies' room so I could relay to him our concerns about your father's 'companion.' He had someone do a sweep of your father's property with a Geiger counter. It didn't pick up anything significantly above background. That's not strictly definitive, but it rules out anything obvious."

Janet set her cup down and rubbed her eyes. "I am so tired that the caffeine just isn't helping. I didn't sleep well last night, and now I feel all achy."

"Janet, you've been pushing yourself hard since you arrived in town," said Kevin. "Please don't overdo it."

"I don't want to sit around doing nothing."

Kevin leaned forward in his chair. "I know, Janet but we've exhausted all possibilities on our end. We will have to wait until--" He stopped when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out and frowned at the caller ID before answering it. "Heather, what are you doing in the office this early on a Saturday? We don't open until one."

"You may want to open a little earlier, Kevin," said Heather.

Kevin knew that tone all too well. He sighed and rubbed a temple. "What now?"

"I decided to check our voice mails. Calls have been coming in all morning from people with horse-ears. I have parents practically in tears about their children. We have at least five people camped out in their cars in the parking lot. If that keeps up, it's going to be a mad rush when we do open."

"Can the hospital take our overflow?" Kevin asked.

"We're receiving their overflow. Wait times are astronomical. Fewer staff show up each day for work, and all elective procedures have been canceled."

"What about the urgent care clinic?"

"After today, they're closing up shop."

Kevin frowned. "They can't do that! I don't give a damn if they're privately owned, they have a moral obligation to stay open!"

"That's really hard to do when they're getting short-staffed as well," said Heather. "But the main reason I'm calling you is that we had a message from Doctor Marlowe. She wants you to call her back and gave me her private cell."

Kevin scrambled to get out a notepad and pen. He took down the number that Heather recited to him. "All right, let me get to a more private place to make the call. You holding up okay?"

"As long as the natives don't get more restless than they already are," Heather said.

"I don't mean that."

Heather sighed. "I have a full head of sparkly cyan hair, if that's what you mean. Other than that, I'm fine."

"All right, I'll call you back soon," Kevin said before hanging up.

"That didn't sound good," Janet murmured.

"It wasn't." Kevin stood. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Janet nodded. "I understand. I need to go lie down, I'm ready to drop."

Kevin hurried out of the hotel and into his car. He dialed the number and within three rings had Sandra Marlowe on the phone. "Thank you for getting back to me, Doctor Conner."

"What do you have for me?" Kevin asked.

"We got back the results of the blood work," said Sandra. "The results are skewed."

Kevin frowned. "Skewed? All of them?"

"Every last one. But they're consistently skewed. If you picked one at random as the new normal, the others would line up."

"I'd say that was the smoking gun," said Kevin. "You have medical proof of this condition."

"Yes, but as my colleagues keep reminding me, influenza doesn't do this," said Sandra. "What's more, we're getting back results from the new round of influenza lab tests you and other physicians ordered. Not a single one is showing any active infection whatsoever. Most of us here are convinced that this is a separate disease."

Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure of whether to debate the point further. He had no more proof than the correlation of symptom timelines. "Doctor Marlowe, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, if there is even the slightest chance of a link--"

"Yes, I know, and we're leaving open that possibility. The prevailing theory is that this is an opportunistic disease that took advantage of overworked immune systems during the influenza outbreak, or that influenza somehow made the body more susceptible. The CDC is planning to release the remaining reserve of this season's vaccinations and will recommend aggressive treatment with antivirals. If there is a link, that will give the new disease less opportunity to spread."

"What about a more direct response to this condition?" said Kevin. "My office is going to be besieged with patients who have the migrated ears symptom."

"The hospital is reporting the same," said Sandra.

"Then you can see we need help."

"You're going to get it," Sandra said. "We're going to declare a public health emergency. The official announcement will come tomorrow, but we're mobilizing now. We'll have an advance contingent of physicians arriving there by tonight to ease the pressure on your hospital and keep the clinics open. The full operation will ramp up by Monday."

Kevin let out a sigh of relief. "That will really help. What area is covered by this?"

"Lazy Pines, Silverthorne, Breckenridge, and Green Mountain," said Sandra. "Those are the towns with the greatest concentration of symptoms."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "You have more cases outside of town already?"

"Not nearly as advanced, however," said Sandra. "There are some reports of scattered cases in other cities, but their numbers should be small enough to deal with."

Kevin ran a hand over his head. "What about Fred Turner?"

"We're leaning on the courts as hard as we can to order him into a medical facility. If he does represent an advanced stage, we absolutely need to observe him and know what the end state is."

Kevin detected a note of desperation in Sandra's voice. Given how cool and clinical she generally was in these conversations, it sounded the alarm in his head. "Please level with me, Doctor Marlowe. What's your outlook? Off the record, if need be."

Sandra hesitated before responding in a low voice, "Right now, we're clueless as to what we're dealing with. This is unprecedented. Some of us still wanted to write this off as a big joke until the first reports of the ear symptom came in from the hospital. We're hoping we caught this early and are about to stop its spread dead in its tracks."

Kevin let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Thank you for your honesty. What should I do while we await the cavalry?"

"Treat this as an unknown infectious disease and recommend voluntary isolation to your patients where feasible," said Sandra. "We're moving as fast as we can here. I have to go now, Doctor Conner. Do you have any further questions?"

Kevin had thousands, but none that could be answered. "No, I'm good."

"I'll be in touch soon," said Sandra before she hung up.

Kevin took a deep breath as he put his cell phone away. He went over everything he had done in the last few days. Had he done everything he possibly could? Had he missed anything, like he had when his now-deceased wife was silently suffering from a cancer he should have caught?

Had he been thorough enough?

> Chapter 20 - Rifts
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset Glow gave her guest at the table a tremulous smile. "Cady, thank you so much for stopping by. It's been a big help."

Cadance smiled as she sipped her tea. "Shiny would've come himself, but he's helping his father cope."

"I'm glad Shiny is here," said Shimmering. "He's always been a stabilizing influence on the family. He was so very helpful when, um ..." He glanced nervously at his wife.

"Shimmy, you can say it," said Glow. "I've managed to get to where I don't cry every time I hear that Sunset is gone."

Cadance glanced around. "Your family pictures only show Night Light. Shall I ask Auntie Celestia to remove that part of the spell as well?"

"Not yet," said Glow in a quavering voice. "I haven't worked though this enough to handle seeing her everywhere I go."

"Maybe ask her to remove the spell from one picture," said Shimmering. "Let us ease into this."

Cadance glanced at Glow. "Celestia would like to talk to you, when you feel you can."

Glow frowned. "She's the last pony I ever want to talk to."

"I know you're upset with her, but eventually--"

"I don't have to do anything she wants!" Glow snapped.

"Cady, this is going to take a while," said Shimmering.

"A while? How about never!"

"Glowy, please--"

"No, Shimmy, there's nothing I want to hear from her," Glow declared. "There's nothing she can possibly say to make up for this. She lied to me, Cady, right there in the throne room. Right when she could've explained all this to me."

"Celestia knows she can never make it up to you," said Cadance. "But she does want to apologize."

"Apologize? How is that going to bring Sunny back?"

"It wasn't Celestia's fault that--"

"How do you know that?" Glow demanded.

Cadance hesitated. "I beg your pardon?"

"Glowy--" Shimmering began in a warning tone.

"What if Celestia pushed Sunny too hard?" Glow continued. "What if Sunny went too far just to please her mentor?"

"You know that's not true," said Cadance. "You know what Sunset believed."

"Maybe that's not true, either," Glow said in a low voice. "Maybe ... m-maybe she pretended to believe that ... maybe the Princess taught her that ..."

"Sunset Glow," said Cadance in a firm voice. "My aunt has done some wrong things but she would never hold a belief like that, nor teach it to anypony else."

Glow swallowed hard. "We didn't teach her that. It must have come from somewhere."

"Celestia was just as shocked to learn of her beliefs as you and Shimmering were." Cadance stared down into her tea. "We may never know where she obtained such ideas."

"It's so hard for me not to blame the Princess, Cady," said Glow in a soft, tremulous voice.

"We want somepony to take responsibility for what happened," said Shimmering.

"Celestia is taking full responsibility," Cadance said softly. "Maybe it's not enough, but I don't know what would be."

"I wish I could go back in time," Glow said in a strained voice. "Tell my past self not to let Sunny be Celestia's student."

"Then she may have simply worshiped Celestia from afar, taught herself what she needed to know, and nopony would have been watching her when--"

Glow hopped off the chair onto unsteady hooves. "I don't think I'm quite as ready for this as I had thought. Cady, I'm sorry, but I need some time alone."

Shimmering gave his wife a forlorn look as he stepped up to Cadance. "I'm really sorry about this. I know you still look up to your Aunt Celestia, but Glowy is not seeing past the need to blame somepony for this."

Cadance nodded slowly. "I figured as much. What about you?"

"I admit, I found it easy to blame her for everything as well," said Shimmering in a slightly terse voice. "But I'm trying to work past it. It's not going to do any good, and it's not going to bring Sunny back."

Cadance finished off the rest of her tea and left her chair. "I better leave for now, otherwise I'm going to start trying to defend Auntie Celestia again." She sighed. "I hope Shiny is having better luck than I am."





"Shiny, I'm a little concerned about what you said earlier," said Night Light in a low voice in the living room of his home. "Do you really believe Celestia was in the right for wiping our memories of my sister?"

"Well, I don't like the idea that our heads were messed with, no," said Shining Armor said in a distracted voice.

"That didn't answer my question."

"Because I don't know how to answer it, Dad. Why do you think I still haven't talked to the Princess?"

Night stepped closer. "Are you sure you're not acting out of misguided loyalty?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were Captain of the Guard for a long while."

Shining turned more fully towards his father. "Yes, I was, and I swore an oath of absolute loyalty to Princess Celestia."

"Which you're not necessarily bound to today."

Shining face-hoofed. "Dad, just listen to yourself! I don't just discard those things if they become inconvenient."

"I don't want you falling into the same trap that Sunset did."

Shining frowned. "This is not the same thing. I've been closer to the Crown than anypony in this family save for Twilight and Aunt Sunset. I know the hard decisions the Princess has to make. So maybe I'm not as angry about this as I thought I was." He paused and murmured, "Or at least not in the way everypony else is."

Night was quiet for a moment. "This is more about Twilight, isn't it?" he said softly.

"Cady told me something Princess Celestia said to her when they talked," said Shining. "That in death, some ponies become more powerful and influential than they were when alive. The last thing Twilight ever said after Aunt Sunset died and before the Princess wiped our memories was 'I'm going to be just like Auntie Sunset when I grow up.'"

"Oh, now, Shiny, you can't know that she included Sunset's philosophy as well!" said Night. "She was likely just referring to Sunset's skill at magic."

"Maybe she was," Shining said. "But I'm glad we never had to find out."

"If she had lived, maybe she could have been reformed," said Night. "Maybe Twilight could've reformed her, you ever think of that?"

"Dad--"

Night's eyes misted. "She helped reform Luna, Discord, and Starlight Glimmer." He paused and turned away. "Or s-somepony in the family could've done it. We could've saved her."

Shining stepped up to his father and draped a fore-leg around his barrel. "Dad, I'm sorry."

Night lowered his head. "I miss her, Shiny. I miss her terribly. We had such a wonderful foal-hood together."

Shining drew his father close. "When this is all over, you'll have to share some of your stories with the family."

"What I really regret is that all her things are just ... gone. I have no mementos to remember her by." Night looked up and wiped an eye with the back of a hoof. "I made her a set of cutout paper wings once, so she could be a little princess."

Shining smiled.

"She took them with her to the palace after becoming Princess Celestia's student." Night took a deep breath. "I would give anything to have them again, just as a reminder of how good things were for a while."

Shining drew his father into a hug. "We'll get past this, Dad," he said in a soft voice. "And we'll all be stronger for it in the end."

Night gave him a tremulous smile. "I guess you're right, Shiny. I'm so glad you're here. You were always the strong one."

Shining's smile faded slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am. I was in the Royal Guard after all."

"I'm so sorry I questioned your--"

"No, please, Dad, stop," Shining said softly. "If anything, you helped me see a few things a little more clearly."

"Maybe that will help you in talking to Princess Celestia," said Night.

"It just might," said Shining in a subdued voice.





Starlight paused for an awkward moment as she stepped into Celestia's presence before remembering to bow. "Um, uh, thank you seeing me, Princess."

"Until we get this matter with the portal sorted out," said Celestia. "I am at you and Twilight's disposal. What may I do for you?"

Starlight rose to her hooves. "Um, well, this is kinda awkward. Normally Twilight would've asked you about this, but she's busy with trying to figure out how the portal works."

"Whatever information you need, I will provide, Starlight Glimmer," said Celestia.

Starlight glanced to the side and rubbed her mane with a hoof. "Well, I wanted to ask you about that day when Sunset died."

Celestia hesitated, her eyes glistening. "I see," she said in a small voice.

"I kinda need some specific details about what happened." Starlight sighed. "I know I'm not the most tactful pony in existence but--"

Celestia held up a hoof. She took a deep breath and left her throne. "For some things, all the tact in Equestria would not be enough. How do you wish me to proceed?"

"Maybe describe in a little more detail what happened that day," said Starlight. "What you heard. Um ... what you saw."

Celestia nodded and started to slowly pace. "I had reached her residence. Her lab was on the third floor. I had considered walking up the stairs so she would hear me coming. I wanted this to be as non-confrontational as possible. Yet she had set a ward at the bottom of the stairs I did not see."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Wait, she was able to hide a ward from even you?"

Celestia smiled gently. "I was not specifically looking for one. But I had felt it trip, thus I decided to fly up instead." Her smile faded. "When I reached the second floor, I hesitated." She lowered her head. "I wish to all the powers that be that I had not hesitated."

"Um, why did you?" Starlight asked.

"Because that was where she had built her shrine to me. It was the first time I had seen it. I was ... aghast. It was like something out of a historical play, when proto-pony tribes worshiped ancient pantheons of gods." Celestia paused. "Then I heard Sunset scream. Then a ... a loud noise, a combination of a splintering and ... a wet splatter."

Starlight's pupils shrank. "Splatter??"

Celestia resumed pacing, her hooves clopping into the silence for a few moments. "When I got to the lab, the portal was closed and roiling with unstable energy. I had to seal it before I could deal with the blood."

Starlight swallowed hard.

"Which was tremendously difficult considering how my stomach turned at the sight and smell," said Celestia in a quavering voice.

"H-How much blood are we talking about here?" Starlight asked.

"It was all over the walls, the floor, the ceiling."

Starlight paled. "O-okay, I don't want to ask this any more than you want to answer it, but here goes. Was there ... was there enough?"

"I know where you are going with this, Starlight," said Celestia softly. "This was not a case of a little splatter that she could have done by cutting herself. It was determined that there was about half a pony's worth of blood and tissue in that room. It was tested, and it was indeed Sunset's."

Starlight slowly nodded. "Um, okay, thanks."

Celestia turned to Starlight. "Did Twilight suggest that Sunset may have faked her death?"

"Well, yeah, we considered that, but now I'm not so sure."

"You are thinking everything I was forced to at the time," said Celestia. "Once I got past my initial shock and grief. She was clever enough that she could have done it. I searched for any evidence that she had ever done any such preparation in that area and came up empty."

Starlight paused. "How did you go about looking for that evidence?"

"I checked to see if Sunset had procured materials she could have used to create a convincingly gory display. I asked the biology department at Canterlot University to do a thorough inventory in case Sunset had stolen what she needed. I had other biology and medical suppliers do the same. All materials were accounted for."

"What about Star Singer?"

Celestia hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

"Did you look for anything referencing Star Singer?" Starlight asked.

"Why would I do that? Who is Star Singer?"

Starlight's eyes widened. "Princess, how did you find out about Sunset's research into transformation magic? Wasn't it by finding research she did in the Archives?"

"No, I discovered her plans more directly," said Celestia. "I detected the energies themselves and paid her a visit to ask her about it. She had not expected me to arrive at that moment, and much of her research was out for me to see."

"So you have no idea that Star Singer was assisting her?"

"No, I did not," said Celestia.

"But you must have!" Starlight said. "I found documents in the Archives where Star Singer collaborated with professors on transformation magic. How did you pull those into your spell if you didn't know about them?"

"I did not want to track down every document or pony by hoof," said Celestia. "So I let the spell do that for me. It had two simple directives: find all documents and memories on Sunset Shimmer herself, and find all documents and memories on her research."

"So you pulled in those documents without realizing that they hadn't been authored by Sunset herself."

"Starlight, what does this all mean?" Celestia asked in an urgent voice.

"I'm not sure yet," said Starlight. "I'm going to have to do more research before I know for sure."

"I've given you just as much authorization as Twilight to obtain the information you need," declared Celestia.

"Thank you, Princess. I better go." Starlight turned away and galloped for the doors.

"Starlight, wait!" Celestia called out.

Starlight skidded to a halt and spun around.

Celestia stepped towards her, her eyes misting. "Starlight ... does this mean that Sunset might be alive?"

Starlight hesitated. "I'm not sure. I promise to let you know what I find out."

Celestia nodded, not trusting her voice. She let out a shuddering breath. "Sunset ... my beloved student ... a-alive ..."





Spike stepped over to the table in the far corner of the Canterlot Archives where Twilight sat poring over sheets of equations that nearly covered every available space. Several more were levitated in the air around her head. He held a tray in his claws with a daffodil sandwich and salad on one side, and a bowl of gems in the other.

"Um, Twilight?" Spike said softly.

Twilight's head jerked up, and the pages floating around her head fluttered to the floor. "Huh, what?! Oh." She levitated the dropped pages back to the table. "Hi, Spike. How long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here." Spike smiled and lifted the tray. "I brought food."

Twilight blinked. "Is it lunchtime already?"

Spike's smile faded, and he raised an eyebrow. "Um, this is dinner, Twilight."

Twilight's eyes widened. "It is? How long have I been at this?"

"Pretty much all day." He glanced at the myriad papers. "Make any progress?"

Twilight sighed and leaned her head on a fore-hoof. "Not as much as I would like."

Spike stepped around the table. He balanced the tray in one claw while rearranging pages on the table with the other. "Not having much luck, huh?"

Twilight's horn glowed, and she assisted in clearing a space on the table. "It's just going far more slowly than I would like."

Spike set down the tray and hopped into a chair. "What about your idea of using the transformation magic equations?"

"I've confirmed that there is definitely transformation magic leaking through the portal," said Twilight. "That's why I'm getting a little frantic. It could mean that at the very least Sunset's magical device survived the trip through the portal." She picked up the sandwich in her magic. "But until I discover how to properly control the portal, I can't do anything about it."

Spike munched on a gem before responding. "Are you really going to try to travel to that other world?"

Twilight took a large bite of her sandwich, not realizing until then how ravenous she was. She chewed a few perfunctory times before swallowing. "I feel I have to, Spike. Best case scenario is that Aunt Sunset's device survived the trip but is inactive, and what I'm detecting is just energy leakage."

"Inactive?"

Twilight took another bite from her sandwich. "Her device was built with this world's biology in mind," she said with her mouth full. She swallowed and continued. "Another world is likely to have a different biology. Theoretically, her device shouldn't work there unless it was adjusted somehow, not just for that world's pathogens but to ensure the resulting pony body is an optimal fit with their biosphere."

Spike popped a gem in his mouth and smirked. "I've been hanging around you too much. I actually understood most of that."

Twilight rolled her eyes but smiled faintly.

"So if it's inactive, what are you worried about?" asked Spike.

"We haven't had contact with these natives in seven centuries," said Twilight. "In that time, they may have developed the skills to manipulate the device, even understand its purpose. The last thing I want is for another world to think that Equestria has hostile intent. Or if they already believe that, somepony has to correct that impression."

Spike grinned. "I think you just like the idea of being an emissary to another world."

Twilight's smile widened slightly. "I have to admit, the idea is a little exciting."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Twilight giggled. "Okay, it's very exciting, especially considering that we have an advantage if we do have to travel to that world."

"We do?"

"The first expedition to that world recorded a great deal of their culture, including what seemed to be a fairly universal language among their imperial institutions," Twilight explained. "Their name for it was 'Latin'. I can learn enough of it to gain the trust of a native so I can cast a translation spell."

"If they're still speaking that language now," said Spike.

"Yes, I considered that. Even our own language has drifted in that time. I'm hoping that this imperial period was significant enough historically that the natives will have retained some knowledge of their older language." Twilight considered as she chewed another bite of her sandwich. "Maybe I better hedge my bets and learn the secondary language called 'Greek' that they used largely for literary--"

"Twilight!" came Starlight's excited voice in the distance, accompanied by her galloping hoofsteps. "Twilight, I found something!"

Twilight's eyes widened as she saw the batch of scrolls and papers Starlight levitated before her. "What is it?"

Starlight skidded to a halt, some of the papers working loose and fluttering to the floor. "Remember that name Star Singer?"

"Yes, I remember," said Twilight. "She helped divert attention from Aunt Sunset while she did her transformation magic research."

Starlight smirked as she picked up the fallen pages. "Well, guess what? Star Singer wasn't just some random student Sunset pressed into service for her. They were close study-buddies. Take a look at this."

Starlight passed a page to Twilight, who grabbed it in her magic. "This is Star Singer's student transcript," said Twilight. "What does this have to do with ... wait ... she changed her major from high magic to biology?"

Starlight smirked. "And, of course, it's not at all suspicious that she did that six months before Sunset disappeared."

"But what exactly does this mean?"

Starlight face-hoofed. "Oh, come on, Twilight, put two and two together! This gave Star Singer -- and Sunset by proxy -- access to materials she could use to fake her own death."

"But isn't that circumstantial evidence?" Twilight said.

"Maybe." Starlight levitated another set of pages. "But take a look at this."

Twilight took the pages from her. "These are lesson plans for biology lab work for Star Singer's classes. What am I looking for?"

"Go to the end of each one," said Starlight. "It lists the materials the instructor provided. I circled them."

Twilight shuffled through the papers. "Sterile storage flasks ... Long term preservation jars ... Tissue sample extraction gems? ... Stasis crystals??" She recoiled, her pupils shrinking. "Desanguination spells?!"

Spike scratched his head. "Um, what's a desan ... desangu-in-a, um ..."

"Desanguination," Twilight said in a slightly quavering voice. "It refers to the process of removing blood from a body."

Spike gulped, his eyes wide. "Why would you even want to do that?!"

"Its main use is a safe means of allowing a pony to donate blood to another," said Twilight.

"I doubt that was the use Sunset had in mind," Starlight said. "Especially when you consider everything else that Star Singer acquired."

Twilight paled. "Do you realize what you're implying??"

"Implying? I'll come right out and say it!" Starlight declared. "Sunset created an elaborate ruse to fool everypony into thinking she died. Everything she had Star Singer get for her was designed to extract samples of her own blood and tissue over time, all the while avoiding leaving a single mark on her that could be suspicious. The fact that they were spread out over multiple projects for Star Singer's biology courses made it even harder to figure out what she did. She would have had to do it over time, as Princess Celestia told me there was half a pony's worth of blood and tissue in that room."

Spike's claws settled over his stomach. "You had to tell us this over dinner," he muttered.

Twilight fell heavily to her haunches. "This is terrible. It means Aunt Sunset was planning to prey on this other world from the moment she started to work on the portal."

"Well, isn't that what we thought might be true?"

"I was hoping I was wrong!" Twilight cried. "I'm nowhere near close to getting the portal to work!"

"Well, it's just a matter of time, right?" Starlight said in a tentative voice. "You've figured out stuff like this before."

Twilight frowned and stood, marching up to Starlight. "I don't think you understand. It's not just a matter of opening the portal and hopping through. This is a very complex set of mechanics, and some of it is beyond me right now."

Starlight's eyes widened. "What, seriously?"

"Did I hear that right?" Spike said.

Twilight turned towards her notes and levitated a blueprint. "I have enough data to construct a thaumic matrix to open the portal by brute force -- assuming the crystals don't shatter from mana overload -- but I don't know how to control the other endpoint yet."

"Uh, I don't follow," said Starlight.

Twilight set down the design and turned to her. "If the other endpoint is anchored, we have no idea where or how. If the ambient transformation magic is the anchor, we could wind up right in the middle of a heavily populated area. If Aunt Sunset anticipated somepony discovering her ruse, she could anchor it in a trap or dead end. If she has no idea the portal is active and she's unwittingly the anchor, we could come out standing right next to her. Maybe we could subdue her quickly enough, but if we fail, we're in big trouble. And that's assuming she hasn't become even more powerful in the two decades she's been there!"

"But what about the data on the previous portals?" Spike asked.

"Those are observations of naturally occurring portals, where the endpoints open at random." Twilight sighed. "This could take weeks. Or months. If Aunt Sunset is really in this other world with an intact device, and she's starting to use it, that's time we don't have. I need some sort of primer, something that will give me an idea of how ultra-high energy magic works without having to recreate years of Aunt Sunset's research."

"Surely some of her research made it into the Archives," Starlight said. "Maybe we should start there."

"I've already been through it all," Twilight said. "Aunt Sunset was very sparing in what she released to the Archives. It's all high-level and very little detail. Celestia was right; in those final days, she was very calculating. I found evidence of where she withdrew papers from the Archive, probably to destroy them along with the rest of her notes."

Starlight sighed. "Wow, talk about burning your bridges. Literally."

Twilight frowned and slapped the pages she held to the table. "And that makes no sense!"

"Er, what?"

"Maybe I was really young, Starlight, but my memories now of Aunt Sunset are very clear, as if they had happened yesterday." She turned to face Starlight. "In a way, they did. They've been restored to me as I remembered them when I was young. I can't imagine she would destroy all knowledge of what she had accomplished!"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "And you don't think you may be just a weensy bit biased?"

Twilight looked taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Listen to you. Ever since you got your memories back, you refer to her as 'Aunt Sunset' every time."

"Wait, what??" Twilight cried. "Why wouldn't I? She is my aunt!"

"I just thought you would act a little more removed from this considering what she did, and especially what she believed."

"Maybe I'm not entirely convinced about what she really believed!" Twilight shouted.

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "And you're not biased. Nope, not at all. Right."

"Listen to me, Starlight," said Twilight in a lower but no less urgent voice. "I've been going over in my head what she taught me. I realized something very important. Not once -- not once -- did she ever come out and say that ponies were better than other species."

"But you said that's what you got out of it," said Starlight.

"And maybe that's my fault and not hers. Maybe I misinterpreted what she was trying to tell me."

"All right, fine. What was she trying to tell you?"

Twilight paused. "I don't know yet."

"What about what Shining said?" said Starlight. "About Sunset praising the essay you wrote?"

"Yes, she started by praising it, but she was about to point out a flaw in it when Shining barged in and interrupted," Twilight said. "What if she was going to tell me that I had learned the wrong thing out of what she was teaching me?"

Starlight frowned. "I still think you're trying to gloss over what Sunset did."

"I am not glossing over it!" Twilight exclaimed. "What I question are her assumed motives. I'm not convinced that what she did was purely to spread pony hegemony across the planet."

"Does it really matter anymore?" Starlight asked. "The point is, she may be wreaking havoc on another world."

"It might still be important," said Twilight in a lower voice. "Knowing her true motivations could give us a clue as to what exactly she planned to do and what the end result would be." She sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Starlight. My emotions concerning Aunt Sunset are stronger than I thought they would be."

Starlight stepped up to her. "That was more what I was concerned about," she said in a less confrontational tone. "That your feelings might be affecting your judgment. I'd like to think we've been a good team up to this point. The last thing I want is something to mess that up."

Twilight smiled faintly. "You're doing what you should be doing, which is forcing me to see the bigger picture. But I'm going to have to ask you to trust me in this case when I say that I believe there's more here than meets the eye."

"Just so long as it doesn't distract you from figuring out how that portal works."

"It won't," said Twilight. "We're both going to start building that matrix first thing in the morning and start milking that portal for all the data its worth."





Celestia had left word with the Royal Guard that she would receive Shining Armor in her private suite as she had Cadance, only to be told upon his arrival that he preferred to see her in her throne room. The message was delivered just as she and Luna had finished dinner, and Celestia gave her sister a forlorn look.

"I would not say that this formality necessarily bodes well," said Luna delicately. "But nor would I jump to conclusions."

"He had been at Canterlot Court for some time," said Celestia in an even voice. "He knows how protocol can be manipulated to make a point or set the tone for discourse."

"Still, he is your nephew-in-law," said Luna. "And thus family. I am sure he has not lost sight of that point."

Celestia rose. "I can only hope. I apologize for cutting our time short, dear sister."

Luna shook her head. "This is more important. I wish you luck."

Celestia smiled faintly before turning away. Her thoughts returned to Shining and the wedding. It had taken some time for Shining to accept that, upon his marriage to Cadance, he was  officially family, and thus protocol could be eased. Shining had not truly begun to accept that until he had retired from his position as Captain of the Guard to join Cadance in ruling the Crystal Empire, and even then it took the birth of Flurry Heart to really loosen him up.

When Celestia entered the throne room and saw Shining standing practically at attention, she felt as if time had suddenly rewound. His eyes were set hard, a small frown on his muzzle, and Celestia had no idea what he could be thinking.

Celestia took a chance that Shining would not insist this be conducted as a formal audience. She bypassed sitting upon the throne to accept his greeting and approached him instead. If this had perturbed him in any way, he didn't show it, maintaining that stoic air that had served him well in the Royal Guard.

Celestia stopped when Shining dropped into a bow, which he thankfully held for only a few seconds before rising to his hooves again. "Princess," he said in a clipped voice.

Celestia managed a smile. "It is good to see you again, Shining Armor, despite the circumstances."

Her attempt to set a more casual atmosphere was met initially by stony silence, which made Celestia feel only all that much more uncomfortable. Shining finally took a deep breath and said, "I apologize for not seeing you sooner, but ... to be honest, I'm still at a loss."

Celestia slowly nodded. "I think I understand."

"I'm not sure that you do."

Celestia paused. "Then please, Shining, enlighten me. I wish to understand what everypony is thinking."

"I've been going over this in my head all day," said Shining. "And all I did was run in circles. Only after talking to my father did I really start to make sense of anything. Cady finally prodded me into seeing you, thinking that we need to talk this out."

"Which I am perfectly willing to do."

"Yes, but I'm not sure I am!"

Celestia was silent for a long moment. "I fear I do not follow."

Shining started to pace the width of the throne room. "When I was in the Royal Guard, I swore an oath of absolute loyalty to you. I would do anything and everything to protect you, regardless of your policies or your decisions."

"Yes, and you performed your duties admirably."

Shining stopped and turned towards her, frowning. "With all due respect, Princess, I was not looking for accolades."

"My apologies," said Celestia in a soft voice. "Please, continue."

"When Cady expressed concern over this mess, I had told her that there were many secrets in Canterlot," said Shining. "And if I were not told those secrets, there was a reason for it. It did not -- and should not -- stop me from carrying out my duties. I believed that with all my heart back then."

"And what do you believe now, Shining?" Celestia asked.

"I don't know!" Shining exclaimed. "That's the problem! Ever since I got here, I've been saying that maybe what you did was for the best considering the alternative. I keep telling myself that's a practical approach. But is that my real reason? Or am I just falling back into the role of a loyal guardspony, never questioning your decisions simply because it's not my place to question them?!"

Shining's voice had slowly risen to a shout, and his last words echoed for a second. Celestia uttered a soft sigh and cast her gaze downward. "I'm sorry this has caused you such pain, Shining."

"Do you even understand what kind of pain?" Shining cried. "After I was freed from Chrysalis' control, I vowed never to let that happen again. I would never let my mind be messed with again. And now I don't know if I can trust my own head anymore! Is there anything else that's lurking in my mind that I don't know about yet?"

"I can assure you, Shining, there is nothing more that is suppressed. I removed--"

"Yes, you removed your spell," Shining snapped. "But now I'm having to question the sanctity of my own thoughts all over again. I went through this for months after Chrysalis, I didn't want to do it again!"

Celestia took a deep breath. "Shining, Twilight's friend Starlight Glimmer has unparalleled knowledge of mind magicks. She would be more than happy to ease your fears that--"

"You're missing the point!" Shining shouted.

Celestia fell silent.

"You can have every mage in Canterlot examine me and tell me my mind is untouched, and it won't mean a thing to me. It's not a case of whether I really have something lurking in my head, it's my own attitude towards it. You ... this is making me admit to a failing that I don't want to acknowledge."

"Shining, feel free to blame me for this," Celestia declared.

"You don't understand, Princess," Shining said. "That's the last thing I can do right now."

"I-I don't understand."

Shining took a step forward. "I need a way to deal with this. I need a way to stop questioning every thought or feeling that enters my head. It's not a matter of right and wrong, it's a matter of remaining strong for my family. It's my duty."

Celestia remained silent, her eyes glistening.

"And I have a duty to you as well, Princess."

Celestia swallowed. "Y-you have no duty to me any longer, Shining Armor."

"But I do," said Shining. "I have to. I must accept your decisions and actions. I must not question them. Not now. Maybe not ever, I don't know."

Celestia's throat tightened too much for her to speak.

"Please understand me, Princess. I don't blame you. I can't. I don't know what went through your head when you made your decisions, and it can't be my place to ask right now."

"Th-that's not ..." Celestia croaked. "I ... i-it's not about blame. I just don't want to see you like this."

"I'm sorry, Princess," said Shining in a low voice. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm not trying to punish you. This is for myself, not you. I can't let anypony down. Especially not myself."

Shining Armor turned and headed out of the throne room. A pony who had been a close member of the family now seemed even more distant than he had been the very first time he had come into an audience with her after becoming Captain of the Guard.

The doors closed silently behind Shining. Celestia lowered her head and wept softly.

> Chapter 21 - Panic
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Denver, Bob's mother Eileen finally hauled herself out of bed as the morning rays of sunlight drew short. She held a blanket wrapped around her, finally able to keep the chills at bay with a single layer. She hoped by the end of the weekend her fever would break so she would stop feeling like death warmed over every morning.

"Having the flu sucks," she muttered.

She coughed as she trudged through her tiny apartment, the aging furnace rattling as if trying to drown her out. She had little appetite despite the lateness of the morning, but she wanted something hot. She set down her cell phone on the kitchen table before shuffling over to the stove to start a teapot heating.

She glanced out the window. More wet snow had fallen overnight. At least the flu gave her the excuse to stay home from her job as a checker at the local supermarket so she didn't have to drive in the wet and cold.

As Eileen prepared a teacup, she glanced at the cell phone. She had set it to load the 9News website and frowned when she saw the banner of the headline story: Unknown affliction in Lazy Pines worries residents.

Eileen mumbled a curse as she rushed back to the whistling teapot. She poured the tea and carried it to the table, splashing some in her haste. She clicked on the story and swore again when her cheap model phone struggled with the multimedia.

"Goddamn autoplay video," Eileen muttered before snatching up her cell phone and bolting for the living room, her tea forgotten. She started her laptop and drummed her fingers against her arm as the aging machine booted before she could bring up the news article.

A dark-haired reporter was on camera, and behind him were several people with wildly colored hair and eyes. "A strange affliction has affected the residents of Lazy Pines with an odd assortment of symptoms, not the least of which is strangely colored hair and eyes. One would initially think this was nothing more than some fad of hair dye and colored contacts. Nothing could be further from the truth ..."

Eileen frowned as the interviews started. One young woman with bright yellow hair streaked with pale orange and cyan eyes was particularly adamant. "No one will tell us anything! I've been to the urgent care clinic and the hospital several times, and they won't do *BEEP* for me. Look at this!" She whirled around, and the camera panned down and focused on a long, wavy tail emerging from a slot torn in her jeans. "It's a *BEEEP* tail! I tried cutting it off but it grew right back." She grabbed a fistful of head hair. "I can't wash this color out. What is this?!"

Sarah and Harold appeared next.

"The fuck?" Eileen said.

"Almost our whole family is affected," said Sarah. "Our oldest daughter has a tail. She's been very brave about it, but we want to know what's going on."

"When did this start?" the reporter asked.

"About a week ago," said Harold. "When our oldest daughter had odd-colored hair. It always starts with the hair."

"And now you both appear affected as well?" asked the reporter.

"Yes, and our doctor has no idea what it is," said Sarah. "Please, don't get me wrong. Our doctor is very good, and we like him, but if he can't figure this out--" She exchanged a look with Harold. "--well, we don't know what we're going to do just yet."

"All we want is for someone to take this seriously," said Harold. "I've had first hand experience with being told I'm full of it for trying to explain this."

"What has your doctor told you, if anything?" said the reporter.

"Just that this may be related to the flu, but he can't be sure," said Sarah.

Eileen's eyes widened as she remembered her conversation with Bob from a few days ago.

The camera view cut to the reporter. "The idea that the flu could be responsible for this condition is perhaps the more serious concern, not just for the residents of this town, but for those affected by the recent surge in new influenza cases along the Front Range. Yet what concerns some residents more is the persistent rumor of a half-horse man, a victim of this affliction who allegedly has horse-like ears and hooves for feet. Is he just an imaginary bogeyman invented by someone fearing the worst, or does he represent a disturbing future state of this affliction? Until we hear official word, all the residents can do is wait and worry. This is Bruce Donner reporting from Lazy Pines, Colorado."

Eileen snatched up her phone and called her sister's number, but the first three tries ended in a dump to voice mail. On the fourth try, an irritated voice finally snapped, "Eileen, you're the last person I want to talk to right now."

"Well, tough shit," Eileen said. "I just saw you and your ever lovin' hubbie on the news. What the fuck, sis, I have to learn from the news how bad it's gotten? You can't call me yourself?"

"What are you talking about?"

"My son is what I'm talking about," Eileen tried to yell, but her voice broke up into a spasm of coughing.

"You sound awful. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Yeah, I'm so touched by your concern."

"Bob is fine," said Sarah. "He doesn't have this."

"You mean he doesn't have it yet. Why the hell are you keeping him there? You want to risk him catching this, too?"

"What difference does it make if it's related to the flu?"

"Oh, right, yeah, I'm gonna believe a hick doctor from Nowhereville. How about we get him to a real city with real doctors like, oh, I don't know, Denver!"

"I had considered taking the family to Denver, but I decided it was impractical."

Eileen frowned. "You mean Harold railroaded you into that decision."

"I don't want to deal with you right now. I've got enough problems."

Eileen bit back a retort when she heard the troubled tone of her sister's voice. "All right, look, is there any way you can send Bob to me?"

"Eileen, for just once in your life, be reasonable!"

"What's more reasonable than wanting to care for my own son?"

"How are you going to do that? You barely have enough income to keep yourself going let alone care for a child!"

"I have every right to take him out of there," Eileen said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you do," said Sarah in a subdued voice. "I'm hoping you won't, but if you insist, you're going to have to come here. I'm not sending Bob away."

"You would if I sicked a fucking lawyer on you."

"Good luck affording that." Sarah hung up.

Eileen barely restrained herself from throwing the cell phone across the room. She paused until she had managed to calm herself.

She looked down at her phone and noted the number of the fellow who had driven her back from Lazy Pines earlier in the week. They had exchanged phone numbers at his insistence, likely because he hoped to score a date with her.

Eileen selected the number and raised the phone to her ear. "Let's see just how badly he wants that date."





Sarah set down the cell phone and covered her eyes with a hand, her other hand balling into a fist for a moment before slowly relaxing.

She wished she had been more civil with her sister. She understood that Eileen was simply expressing a mother's normal concern for her son. Instead, Sarah couldn't see past the image of an irresponsible woman who had no business raising a child.

Sarah lowered her hand and looked at her computer. When the call came in, she had been in the process of uploading an article to her blog concerning the petroglyphs. Usually her site didn't get very much traffic, but at the moment the tag "#lazypines" was rising fast in popularity. She had ignored the initial phone calls simply because she didn't want to be interrupted.

Sarah read over the article one more time. She had made sure not to make any rash or outrageous claims. She had instead stated her initial theory of the Ancestral Puebloans' possible contact with other human civilizations. Only near the end did she state the "interesting coincidence" with what was happening in Lazy Pines.

Sarah finally clicked "Submit." He heart raced; that had only been half her task. She was about to load the website of the FBI when a soft knock sounded at the door.

"Mom?" came Laura's tentative voice.

Sarah turned in her chair. "Come in."

The door opened, and Laura stepped inside. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. I heard you yelling a bit earlier." Her ears swiveled slightly. "Sorry, I'm really not trying to listen in, it's just these damn ears."

Sarah stood and gave Laura a brief hug. "You don't need to apologize. I was talking to your Aunt Eileen."

"Oh," Laura said in a low voice. "Yeah, enough said."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I ... I need to get out for a bit."

Sarah sighed. "Laura, I know you said before that you don't feel sick but--"

Laura's ears drew back slightly. "But what?"

"I talked to Doctor Conner earlier," said Sarah. "He said they're recommending that we treat this like something communicable and isolate ourselves."

Laura's ears flattened further. "They want us to just stay cooped up in our homes?"

"They don't want to risk this spreading further."

"But everyone in town's already been exposed, and Jenny's been running around town all morning. And you're heading out of town to get groceries."

"Bob is going with me," said Sarah. "I'm going to stay in the car so I don't risk infecting anyone in Silverthorne."

"But I thought I heard they were being affected, too."

"Honey, I'm just trying to do the responsible thing, and ... um ..."

Laura's ears drooped.

Sarah realized her mistake at once. "Sorry, I shouldn't have worded it that way."

"Mom, you said I didn't have to shoulder every responsibility that came along," said Laura in a hesitant voice. "I don't want this one. I just want to be with my friend. I don't want to be alone."

Sarah lifted her gaze to her daughter's ears. "I don't want people seeing you and you getting hurt."

"I'm going to cover my ears with a hat. It's cold out anyway." Laura paused. "Maybe I look weird, but I'm not a freak. Please, don't treat me like one."

Sarah hugged her again. "You're not a freak," she said in a soft voice. "I just won't be here if you have trouble."

"Dad is out keeping tabs on Jenny, and Tina's parents are home," said Laura. "I think we'll be fine."

Sarah drew back as Laura's ears rose and swiveled slightly. "I'm sorry I keep staring at your ears, honey, but they're just so expressive."

Laura smiled faintly. "I always did wear my heart on my sleeve, so I guess this is really no different. So, can I go?"

"Yes, but you'll call your father and let him know exactly where you'll be at all times."

"Thanks, Mom."





Laura glanced at Tina's hair as they walked down the street. "No hair dye?"

"Decided to give it up for lent," said Tina.

Laura rolled her eyes. "Since when did you become religious?"

Tina shrugged. "I thought maybe dyeing my hair was a little insensitive, especially now that my parents have it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Laura said in a low voice.

"It's fine."

"I hope someone figures this out before they have to deal with stupid pony ears."

Tina glanced at Laura's head. "You have them covered pretty good, but I can still see them twitching."

"Ugh, I know!" Laura thrust a hand under her hat and scratched. "Remind me never to wear wool over these things again, it's making them itch like crazy."

"I gotta admit, you're pretty brave to be in public with those, covered or no."

"It's not bravery. I don't want to be alone right now."

"That's a new one for you," said Tina. "You usually don't mind being out of the limelight."

"It's not that I want attention." Laura paused. "I guess I just really need to be with friends right now."

Tina folded her hands over her heart. "Awww, you like me, you really do!"

Laura managed to crack a smile. "You have to joke about everything, don't you?"

"Beats going insane. By the way, I heard school might be closed Monday."

Laura bit her lip.

"You okay?"

"I just prefer the usual routine," said Laura. "You know what my doctor said? That the state wants us to isolate ourselves and cut ourselves off from everyone."

Tina gave her friend a concerned look. "And that's freaking you out."

"No, it's not," said Laura quickly.

"Yes, it is. Even if you don't go apeshit like some, I can tell."

"I don't know what it was about it that spooked me," said Laura in a low voice. "It's not the idea that this is getting so bad they don't want us spreading it. It's more the idea that we can't even have any emotional support."

"I have to admit," said Tina softly. "This is a side of you I don't think I've seen before. I'm usually just kidding around when I call you straight-laced, but I did sometimes think maybe you should loosen up a bit."

Laura averted her eyes and remained silent.

"Laura, you've got more people wanting to be your friend than I think you realize."

"You mean a lot of guys who want to date me."

Tina smirked. "Well, that too, but that's not what I mean. It's really weird how few friends you have because you're not shy by a long shot. Reserved, maybe, but not shy."

"I had no idea if my family was going to stay in Lazy Pines for very long," said Laura. "What's the point of making friends that I'm just going to have to say goodbye to?"

"Yeah, I guess I can see that," said Tina in a low voice. "At least you have an excuse and ..." She trailed off when she looked on ahead. "Oh, ho! What do we have here?"

Laura turned her gaze forward, and her heart sank.

Ahead was an empty lot at one end of the business section of town. A small crowd had gathered at a corner that faced the intersection, a place which had gained the nickname "Preacher's Corner." The pastor from a small church on the outskirts of town occasionally set up shop there to pontificate to the masses about sin and salvation. As it was sufficiently far from residential areas, the police generally tolerated his presence.

Tina smirked. "I wondered when that big blow-hard would grace us with his presence after all the shit started hitting the fan."

Laura slowed her walk. "Tina, maybe we should go the other way."

"Oh, come on, that'll take us by the clinic, and it's a freaking zoo over there."

"I just don't want you goading the preacher into arguing with you."

Tina fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "And when have I done that?"

Laura narrowed her eyes. "Every. Damn. Time."

"Hey, it's cold out," said Tina. "We could use the hot air."

"No, Tina."

Tina rolled her eyes. "Fine, be a spoil-sport."

Laura's ears suddenly perked up and swiveled.

Tina stared. "Even through the hat, that's kinda weird."

"No, wait, listen!" Laura whispered.

Tina turned an ear towards the crowd, but only when they were closer did she hear a female voice from somewhere in front of the crowd. "--maybe the thing to do is to embrace this change rather than fear it. What if this is simply a means for humanity to advance somehow, to get some better state of being?"

"What the hell?" Tina muttered.

"This could be just the next level of human evolution," the voice cried out. "Possibly some sort of step towards some great enlightenment."

Laura flinched when a male voice from the crowd shouted, "You're fucking crazy, lady!"

"Many like me who have reached this point can no longer eat meat," the woman continued. "I've always thought we should be more at harmony with nature. Could this be one way to achieve that? I can't know for sure, of course, but we should at least consider that possibility!"

As they reached the opposite side of the intersection from the crowd, the man's voice rose again, "You're just a stupid-looking freak!"

"Hey, dude, take it easy," said another.

"Maybe you're right, Laura," said Tina. "We should--"

"No, wait," Laura said softly.

As others in the back of the crowd craned their necks, the woman proclaimed, "Let him call me whatever he wants. Let me show you all what I look like, and you can judge for yourself if I'm a freak."

The woman's head rose above the crowd as she stepped atop a wooden crate. A luxuriant fall of pale yellow hair streaked with white cascaded down her shoulders. A similarly thick wave of hair spilled from a tear in her jeans. Her ears curved from the top of her head and were covered in pale red fur.

"There's more than just you with weird ears," someone grumbled.

"What I'm saying is that this may be some sort of sign," the woman proclaimed. "Only a few days ago, I was partially deaf in my left ear from an untreated infection when I was very young. Not only is my deafness gone, I can hear better than I ever did before. If this is so terrible, why would it do something good?"

"I kinda want to hear this," Laura said.

"Well, all right," Tina said as she led them across the street. "But we bug out at the first hint of trouble."





Sarah tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as brake lights glowed in succession like falling dominoes, a normally five minute trip stretching out beyond a half hour. She finally yanked out her cell phone and thrust it towards Bob. "Here. Find out if there's an accident up ahead, please."

Bob took the phone and called up the Colorado Department of Transportation website. "I'm not finding any reports of accidents, but I-70 is pretty badly backed up near Breckenridge."

"People are thinking of skiing at a time like this?" Sarah muttered.

"I'm not sure that's it," said Bob. "I think it was that 9News article."

The traffic started to move again, only to come to another halt a few moments later. "That article was really low key if you ask me. I don't think it even began to express people's worry."

Bob navigated to the 9News website. "There's a new article titled 'Breaking News: Mysterious affliction spreads.'"

Sarah gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "What does it say?"

Bob opened the article and read it aloud. "Soon after our recent report concerning the strange affliction affecting the residents of Lazy Pines, our newsroom was flooded with calls from people also claiming to be affected. Most of the calls originated from the towns and counties surrounding Lazy Pines, but we have also received reports from residents in Denver, Boulder, and Grand Junction. Our rough estimate of the number of people affected is anywhere from two thousand to thirty-five hundred."

Sarah rested her forehead against the steering wheel. "I should've told someone sooner."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Is there anything else?"

Bob skimmed the rest of the article. "There's a report from Vail of someone running around with hooves for feet that the police discovered was a hoax."

"This is not bad enough, people have to act like idiots on top of it!" Sarah yelled.

"Should I continue reading?" Bob said in a tentative voice.

Sarah nodded quickly. "I'm sorry I shouted. I'm not mad at you."

"I know." Bob dropped his gaze to the article and read aloud again. "Our newsroom is just now receiving frantic reports of people who allegedly awoke this morning to discover they had horse-like ears. This was apparently enough to prompt some unaffected residents in the region to evacuate, leading to heavy traffic congestion along major Colorado roads. The Colorado Department of Health has announced that they are mobilizing to deal with this crisis and have urged people to remain calm."

"That's easy for them to say," Sarah muttered. She let out a relieved sigh as the traffic started moving again. "Finally."

Bob navigated to CNN's website. "It's made national news. 'Unknown illness strikes Colorado' is the top story. You want me to read it?"

"No, honey, that's fine," Sarah said, holding out her hand.

Bob handed the cell phone back. "Aunt Sarah, are you all right?"

Sarah forced a small smile as they reached the outskirts of Silverthorne. "Just feeling a little frazzled, that's all."

"What did you mean when you said you should've told someone sooner?" Bob paused. "Did it have to do with those photos you posted on your website?"

Sarah glanced at him. "How did you know about that?"

"I saw the post on your site before we left the house."

"You were looking at my site?" Sarah said with some surprise.

"Yeah. I mean ... uh ... just in passing."

"Oh."

Bob tried to find another topic of conversation -- or better, just remain quiet -- but conscience nagged at him. "It's a great site. I didn't really know a lot about your theories until I looked at it."

Sarah gave him a tiny smile. "How much of it did you read?"

Bob wondered how much more he should lie. He had already implied that he had taken just a cursory glance at her site when he had been following it religiously for the past year or so. "Um ..."

"It's fine if you think my theories are cracked."

"No, not at all," Bob said quickly. "Yeah, they're unconventional, but that's how science advances."

Sarah nodded, her eyes distant. As she slowed to a stop behind other cars at a red light, she thought back to her earlier argument with Eileen. "Bob, I want to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. Are you happy with us?"

Bob hesitated for only a second. "Dad asked me this same thing."

"But you're worried about disappointing him. I thought maybe you wouldn't have the same problem with me."

"I'm fine with living with you all," said Bob. "I just don't know where I fit in sometimes."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Maybe my reasons for asking are selfish, but ... having you come with me today made me realize we might need your help if you're still not affected by this."

"I want to help," Bob said quickly. "So does Tina."

"Tina?"

"Laura's friend."

"I know who she is, honey, I just didn't think you knew her," said Sarah. "You don't tend to associate with Laura or Jenny outside the house."

Bob blushed faintly. "She's just ... nice. A nice person, I mean."

Sarah wished she could go full-on Mom mode and inquire more about this girl who had obviously caught Bob's eye, but she had more practical -- and painful -- matters to consider. "Your mother called. She prefers you don't remain in Lazy Pines so you don't catch this."

Bob's eyes widened. "Is she going to try to take me away?"

"Harry thought maybe you wanted to go back to her."

"Maybe I did, but I can't do it now."

"But if this wasn't happening, would you go back?"

"I really don't know," said Bob. "All I know is, I don't want to right now."

"I know you want to help, and I'm very happy about that, but it doesn't mean--"

"It's not just that," Bob blurted against his better judgment. He remained silent for a stretch of seconds, as if in hope that would somehow make the topic go away, but Sarah gave him an expectant look before turning at the intersection. "I feel like I'm an obligation to her, that she could get on with her life if she didn't have to worry about me."

Sarah was quiet for a long moment. "Eileen claims she's doing what she can to be able to take you back someday."

"But maybe she should stop. It's not doing her any good, and it sure isn't doing me any good." Sounding too harsh to his own ears, Bob added, "It's not that I don't love her. I know she wants the best for me, but maybe she needs to accept that she can't be the one to provide it."

Sarah wanted to agree wholeheartedly with Bob's sentiment, as it had echoed her own: if Eileen had not gotten her act together by now, it was doubtful she ever would. While that belief had not wavered, she wondered if she could have been a little more sympathetic earlier, rather than sounding like she was competing with Eileen as to who could be the better mother. "Thank you, I appreciate your honesty."

Bob nodded, grateful the conversation had ended. If she continued to press him, he would have been forced to reveal what he really felt: that there was someone else other than Eileen whom he would much prefer to call "Mom."





The crowd was packed tightly enough that Laura had little luck finding a place where she could see more than the woman's head above the crowd. Everyone present had at least the colored hair, and a few had progressed to the point of noticeably losing height.

"Over here," said a female voice near one end of the crowd.

A middle-aged woman with yellow and red hair covered by a large hat smiled at Laura. A thick tail of the same two colors spilled from a neatly cut and sewn slot in her jeans. She gestured to an empty space next to her.

Laura nudged Tina, and they jogged over. Laura looked up and smiled. "Thanks."

"Not a problem," the woman said.

"If we're supposed to be suffering from some sort of disease, then why don't we feel sick?" the orator continued. "Does anyone here feel sick? Is anyone dying from this? I'm asking a serious question. Has anyone heard of that?"

A murmur passed through the crowd, but no one challenged her.

"So maybe we're not sick!" the orator declared. "Maybe this isn't some sort of disease after all, but ... but some sort of transcendence!"

"The only one sick around here, lady, is you!"

Laura's ears flattened as her head turned towards the source: a short, stocky man who stood only four feet away. His hair was blue streaked with violet.

A taller man next to him with green hair frowned and poked him in the shoulder. "Hey, I said take it easy."

The shorter man whirled around and shoved the taller man hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back. A third man intervened. "Come on, guys, knock it off!"

"Laura, we better split," said Tina.

"Didn't you hear about Turner?!" the short mad cried, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "Is that what you want, to have hooves like a damn horse?!"

Laura froze, even as Tina grabbed her arm and tugged.

"All right, let's say that rumor is true," the orator said. "I said before that maybe this is all about giving us a closer bond with nature. That could be one way to accomplish that."

"That's just fine and dandy for you, but what about the rest of us? Some of us have children with this! You wanna see them turn into little horses?!"

"Stop being so frightened! What do we really have to lose? Maybe this is a sign that we're too attached to a material form that really doesn't matter in the greater--"

She broke off her oration suddenly and started to duck, but not in time. The rock hurtled at her struck the side of her head just under her ear, opening a gash. She had barely begun to fall when the taller man smashed his fist into the shorter man's face.

"Let's go now!" Tina cried and pushed Laura away.

The shorter man staggered back, blood dripping from a split lip, then rushed forward to grapple with his assailant. He threw the taller man with inhuman strength, sending him crashing into the crowd, toppling people like tenpins.

An elbow smacked into Tina's back, and she sprawled to the ground. Laura cried out in alarm, but before she could get to her fallen friend, the crowd had surged into the gap between them. Laura yelped as she stumbled back, an arm knocking her hat off.

"Tina!" Laura screamed, briefly drowning out the approaching police sirens.

Laura trembled, and her ears flattened. The wall of bodies around her threatened to knock her about like driftwood on a stormy sea. She fought the urge to bolt and tried to thread her way through the press of people. Just as she reached where Tina had fallen, a woman's voice rose. "Laura, I found her! I found your friend!"

Laura came upon the woman with the yellow and red hair, her arm wrapped around Tina's waist. "Tina, are you all right?!"

Tina's face was scratched, and her hair disheveled. She winced as she took a hobbling step forward. "More or less," she muttered.

"We need to get away from here," said the woman.

Tina's face screwed up in pain as she tried to take another step. "Ow! Guys, I'm not going anywhere fast, I think I twisted my ankle."

"Over to this car," said the woman. "She can lean against it."

Laura glanced over to where the world was quickly filling with flashing red and blue lights. "But the police--!"

"--are going to stir things up worse before it gets better," the woman declared. "Let's go!"

They carefully guided Tina away just as the police cars pulled up. Half a dozen officers poured from them and bolted for the crowd.

Laura swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder. "What about the woman who was speaking? She was injured!"

"I think she'll be all right," the woman said. "The guy who hit her got too caught up in the fight to go after her. Here, Tina, do you think you can turn around and lean on the hood?"

Tina nodded as they stepped up to a sedan parked at the curb. "I think so."

The woman smiled. "Lucky you. No pesky tail in the way."

Tina winced as she turned herself around. "Oh, fuck, that hurts." She glanced at Laura. "Laura, where's your hat?"

Laura's eyes widened, and a hand flew up to her head. "Oh, no, I didn't even notice!"

"Calm down, it's okay," said the woman.

"But I don't want someone trying to hurt me, too!" Her ears flattened. "A-and I don't want to look like a freak to everyone."

The woman smiled. "You're not a freak. Not in the least."

Laura slowly smiled, at least until she flinched at the sound of her cell phone ringing. She yanked it out and answered it. "Hello?"

"Laura, where the hell are you?" came Harold's voice. "You were supposed to meet me ten minutes ago."

"Dad, I'm sorry, but, um, something kinda came up," she said, the last part of her statement lost to the tweak of a siren as a paramedic pulled up.

"I didn't get all that, honey, and ... wait, why did I hear a siren?"

Laura sighed in exasperation. "Tina and I stopped at Preacher's Corner, and a fight broke out."

"Fight? Are you all right?!"

"Yes, Dad, I'm fine, but Tina twisted her ankle."

"Where are you?" said Harold. "Are the police there?"

Laura swallowed hard as she looked. Most officers were still wrestling combatants to the ground long enough to cuff them. The stocky one who had started it was taking three officers to hold him down. "They're kinda still busy right now."

"I'd rather we not be this close, to be honest," said the woman.

"But there's an adult here," said Laura. "A nice lady who helped Tina and I get out of this mess."

"Stay with her. I'm coming over now."

"All right. Thanks, Dad."

As she hung up, two paramedics and a police officer rushed over to them. Tina smiled weakly and raised her hand. "I'm the patient. Left ankle hurts like hell."

One of the paramedics examined her foot. "Let's get her over to the van."

The officer turned to them, his eyes lingering on Laura's ears for a few seconds. "Other than the young lady's ankle, are you all right?"

"A little rattled, but okay," said the woman.

"I'm a lot rattled, but I'm okay," said Laura.

The officer focused on Laura. "Where are your parents, miss?"

"My Mom is out of town for a bit but my Dad will be here in a few minutes."

"Officer, being this close to the action is making me a little nervous, and frankly it's loud enough to give me a headache," said the woman. "Mind if we just cross the street?"

"That's fine, ma'am, but don't go too far," said the officer. "We'll need statements from you both."

The paramedics supported Tina on either side as they stepped away from the car. "Tina, would you rather I stayed with you?" Laura asked.

"Laura, I'm fine," said Tina. "I'll call you later. Just worry about yourself."

Laura smiled weakly as she watched the paramedics carry Tina away. In the field some distance from where the crowd had gathered, two more medics tended to the injured orator. "God, what a mess."

"You're not kidding," said the woman. "Here, let's get some distance from this."





Sarah pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store near the north edge of Silverthorne. She ran a hand through her hair before reaching for the shopping list. "Now, Bob, do you remember what I told you about picking the oranges?"

"Weigh them in my hands and pick the ones that feel the heaviest," Bob intoned. "Those are the ones that are likely the juiciest."

"And the tomatoes?"

"Firm, not mushy. Avoid ones that have bruises or splits."

Sarah grilled him on a few more before handing over the list. "Well, you certainly remember that stuff better than Harry does." She reached into her purse and handed him some money. "Thank you for doing this, I appreciate it."

As Bob headed into the store, he glanced around. Many people sported lurid hair. Had it already spread outside of town? He didn't see any obvious tails, but people could be hiding those if they weren't too long.

Bob tried to do his shopping quickly, but the layout of the store was unfamiliar, and he had to hunt for a few items. He let the produce wait until last so he could place them on top of everything else to prevent them from being crushed or bruised. Sarah had a lot of canned goods on the list, far more than she usually bought. He tried not to read too much into the fact that this was the most depleted area of the store.

He reached the fruit section and went about selecting oranges. After sampling two random picks, he put the lesser one back, and a hand grabbed his before he could remove it.

He snatched his hand back and jerked his head to the side. A young woman with straight blond hair pulled her hand back as well, then chuckled. "Sorry about that, I wasn't watching where I was grabbing," she said with a faint southern twang.

Bob nodded and managed a smile. "No worries."

"Did you want that orange?"

"No, you can have it, but I think the ones on this side are better." Bob picked up another set, weighed them in his hand, then handed the heavier one to her.

The woman took the proffered fruit and smiled. "Hey, thanks. I'm in here just to get a snack before hitting the road again. Getting tired of jerky and trail mix." She rolled her eyes. "And to get away from the traffic for a bit."

"Is it pretty bad?"

"Oh, God, yeah. It was smooth sailing through Utah, but soon as we hit Colorado, bam, it was like everyone and his brother was on the road." She glanced at the clock. "I better get going, we got a lot of miles to cover still."

"Can I ask you something before you go?"

The young woman paused, then nodded. "Sure, what is it?"

"Did you hear about the disease that's going around Colorado?"

"Yeah, I heard about it." She glanced around. "Mom didn't think we should stop, but I'm like, do you see anyone who's obviously sick? I mean, jeez, it's just silly-colored hair. Not like it's Ebola or something dangerous, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Bob in a subdued voice.

"I gotta go. Nice talkin' to you."

Bob finished up the rest of his shopping and moved to the checkout lines. He glanced out the window. A Silverthorne police cruiser had pulled up beside Sarah's car, and a police officer was talking to Sarah through the partially open window of her car.

Bob paid for his groceries and helped with the bagging to get it done faster before barreling outside with the shopping cart. As he approached, Sarah glanced at him and pointed as she said something to the officer. The officer glanced at Bob, nodded, then turned and headed back to his car.

"Bob, I'm sorry to have to ask this of you, but you're going to have to load up the car," Sarah said in irritation.

"What was all that about?" said Bob.

Sarah frowned. "They wouldn't tell me. They kept asking me what my business was and 'strongly recommended' I remain in the car."

Bob rolled the cart to the back as Sarah popped the trunk. "I think the state is going to start isolating places that have this condition, and they've already given the police a heads-up."

Sarah pressed her forehead to the steering wheel. "Dammit, I would have done a bigger shopping trip if I had known that."

"Do you want me to go back in and--"

"Absolutely not. I've spent far too long away from our family than I wanted. Just load up the car so we can go."

As Bob loaded the car, the police cruiser pulled away. He saw a family sitting in a car a few spaces down, and as he watched, the young woman he had met in the store walked over to it. She smiled and waved. Bob waved back.

As he closed the trunk, he glanced at the car as it pulled away. It had Florida license plates.





As Laura and the woman reached the other side of the street, Laura glanced back and saw that the police were finally getting the situation under control. She shifted her gaze to the paramedic van, where Tina's injured ankle was being treated. "I feel like this is my fault."

"It wasn't," the woman said gently.

"But if I hadn't insisted on stopping to listen, she wouldn't have gotten hurt. I don't know why I wanted to ... well, no, I guess I do."

"You thought maybe you saw a kindred spirit?"

Laura looked up. "I just wanted to understand what's going on, and I thought maybe she did. Until ... well ..."

"Until you realized she was a bit out there."

"Yeah, I guess." Laura looked off into the distance. "But she had a point about not feeling sick. I don't feel sick. What kind of disease does that? I don't want this to be a disease, but ..." She trailed off and swallowed. "Sorry, I only just met you, and I'm pouring my heart out to you."

"Maybe that's what you need to do. After all, I was there listening to her, too."

"Did anything she say make sense to you?"

The woman considered. "Eh, maybe. At this point, any explanation is as good as another."

Laura glanced across the street. The man who had started the fight was finally hauled to his feet, bruised and bloodied, his hands cuffed behind his back. He lowered his head and slumped his shoulders, offering little resistance as he was taken to one of the police cars. "Why did he have to attack her? She didn't deserve that."

The woman placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Try not to be so hard on him. Not everyone is taking this well."

Laura looked back to her. "I'm sorry, I haven't thanked you for helping us."

The woman smiled. "I was glad to do so. After all--"

She removed her hat. Laura's eyes widened as they fell on her pale yellow equine ears.

"--us pony-eared women need to stick together."

Laura stared. "D-did it happen the same way for you? You just woke up with them?"

"Yep. Happened just this morning."

"Same here! God, I wish I could handle this as well as you are."

The woman shrugged. "I'm a go-with-the-flow kinda gal." She grinned and lifted her tail into view. "Besides, red and yellow always did look good on me."

Laura giggled faintly. She was about to speak again when she heard her father's distant voice call out. "Laura?"

Laura looked down the block, where Harold was jogging towards her, Jenny and James in tow. "Over here!" Laura cried, waving her arm.

Harold broke into a run and pulled Laura into a hug. He looked over towards the police and paramedics. "Jesus. Are you all right?"

Laura let out a relaxed sigh. "I'm fine, Dad," she said in a soft voice.

Jenny almost skidded to a halt as her gaze fell on the woman, her eyes flicking to the ears and then to Laura again. She forced her gaze away and looked at the scene across the street. "What's with the war zone?"

Laura reluctantly broke off the embrace. "It's kind of a long story." She gestured towards the woman. "This is the one who helped us get out of this mess, Dad, she ... um ..." She blushed slightly as she turned around. "I feel so silly. I didn't even get your name."

"My name is Sadie Sommers," the woman said with a smile. "But all my friends call me Sunny."

> Chapter 22 - Voice From The Past
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike once again found it was up to him to remind his charges to eat. He slipped out and procured their meals, carrying the tray into the third floor room as Twilight and Starlight continued their work. "I brought food!" he announced as he set the tray down on a workbench.

Twilight turned and smiled. "Thank you, Spike, for bringing us lunch." She paused with a stalk of celery halfway to her lips. "Um, this is lunch and not dinner, right?"

"Yep," said Spike as he helped himself to a cup of gems.

Starlight sighed as she levitated her plate off the tray and set it down on the floor where she sat on her haunches. "Though it feels like we've been at it that long," she muttered.

Spike glanced at the center of the room, where two pillars of white marble rose, framing the angry scar of portal energy between them. Sparkling crystals were embedded in each pillar at regular intervals. Carved into the rock between and around them were arcane runes. "It looks like it's almost done." He stepped up to the pillars. "Is this really going to open a portal to the other world?"

"Not quite yet," said Twilight. "This will simply give us an access point at this end."

Spike scratched his head. "By doing what exactly?"

Twilight paused to swallow some broccoli. "By creating a Starswirl Confinement Field around the ultra-dense plasma and utilizing the thaumic coefficient expansion capabilities of the crystals to extrude a positive dimensional plane which will serve as the primary entry manifold."

Spike just stared.

Starlight turned her head and said with a mouth full of lettuce. "She's going to stretch the entrance of the wormhole like a rubber band so it'll be large enough to step through."

"Isn't that what I just said?" said Twilight.

Starlight smirked. "Yes, Twilight."

"Except now I actually understand it," Spike murmured. "But what good will it do if it doesn't go all the way through?"

Twilight turned from her meal and stepped up to the right pillar. "It will make it much easier to explore how the portal works." She lowered her head as her horn started to glow. A narrow beam of purple light shot from her horn, and wisps of smoke rose from were it contacted the marble. She began carving another rune. "I honestly don't like doing it this way, it feels like we're playing with fire. If we infuse too much energy, we risk collapsing the wormhole completely at best and an explosion at worst."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Explosion? You never mentioned about anything exploding!"

"Well, it won't, unless my equations are completely off."

"Uh, how big an explosion are we talking about here?"

Twilight finished carving the rune before lifting her head. "Worse case scenario is that the plasma at this end completely destabilizes. The resulting power release would vaporize Canterlot, and the subsequent shock wave would flatten Ponyville."

"Whoa," Spike murmured.

Twilight gestured at the pillar. "Now that we have these in place, I could likely seal it off at this end if I had sufficient warning, but all that power would have to go somewhere, which may mean down to the other end of the portal. I don't want to be responsible for destroying one of the natives' cities any more than our own."

"Maybe we should be glad Sunset never thought of weaponizing her invention," said Starlight.

"That might be another reason why Princess Celestia suppressed it," said Spike.

"Possibly." Twilight took a deep breath. "In any case, we're ready."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Can't we finish eating lunch first?"

"I'm anxious to know if this will work."

Starlight wolfed down some asparagus before trotting over to Twilight. "All right, but if we vaporize Canterlot because I'm doing this on an empty stomach, I'm blaming you."

Spike fidgeted. "Um, should I be hiding under something?"

"It will be fine, Spike," said Twilight as she positioned herself at the left pillar, Starlight standing before the right pillar. "I hope."

Starlight smirked faintly. "Well, that inspired confidence."

"Ready?" said Twilight as her horn started to glow.

"As ready as I'll ever be," said Starlight, her own horn glowing. "Let's set a match to this, shall we?"

Twilight and Starlight lowered their heads. "Now!" Twilight cried.

A bolt of magic shot from each horn to the base of its respective pillar. Energy raced upward, the crystals glowing almost blinding white, causing Spike to raise an arm to shield his eyes. Starlight clenched her teeth as she strained, her hooves splayed as if in need to better balance herself. While Twilight was not nearly as taxed, even she grimaced slightly, and she spread her wings. Soon a low hum reverberated through the room and carried through the planks of the floor, setting everything in the room shaking.

"Almost there!" Twilight cried above the din.

"We better be!" Starlight exclaimed. "This isn't as easy as it looks!"

"Almost ... just a little more ... there!"

Spike let out a startled yelp as jagged bolts of energy arced between the two pillars from crystal to crystal, snapping and sizzling. From the center of the maelstrom, a silvery plane expanded to fill the space between the pillars.

"We got it!" Twilight cried triumphantly. "Ease off!"

Starlight let the flow of magic from her horn taper off. She staggered back a step, panting and wiping sweat from her forehead. The hum had settled to a lower volume, accompanied by a faint buzzing noise and the tingly sense of static electricity.

Twilight smiled. "Nice work, Starlight!"

"Um, yeah," Starlight said in a distracted voice. She stepped up to the portal, and her own perfect reflection mimicked her approach. "Is it just me, or did we just go through a lot of magic and effort to create a mirror?"

Twilight's reflection approached, and Starlight turned her head towards the real one. "In a way, yes. It will look like a mirror until the portal is fully opened. But look!" Twilight raised a foreleg and swept it through the air. "That jagged scar is gone. We've got full control over this end of the portal now."

Spike stepped up and eyed his own reflection. "And nothing exploded!"

"And nothing will if we keep the confinement field energized," said Twilight. "I'm going to talk to the high magic department of Canterlot University and see if I can borrow some mana batteries."

Starlight tapped a fore-hoof against the mirror-like surface. Despite the feeling that she had struck something solid, the surface rippled like a pebble thrown into a pond, and she heard a sound like a tuning fork. "Maybe this thing is not completely open yet, but there is energy coming through."

"Yes, I can feel it, too," said Twilight. "It's crystal clear now. There is definitely bits of transformation magic leaking through."

Starlight turned more fully towards Twilight. "That kinda raises another concern of mine. Shouldn't we be focusing on Sunset's transformation research? If Sunset is doing something to that other world, we may need to fix it."

"Yes, I've started to think about that myself. Starlight, you seemed to be fascinated by what you found in the Archives. Do you want to take a shot at figuring it out?"

"Sure, I can try," said Starlight. "Mostly I'm curious as to what Sunset's thinking was on how permanent is 'permanent'."

"I don't quite follow," said Twilight.

"I understand that once you change the morphic resonance, the creature will stay in that form, but couldn't you just apply a similar spell and change that resonance back?"

"That could be why she burned her notes, to prevent somepony else from crafting the same spell."

Starlight considered. "Or she knew something that we don't."

"In either case, I would appreciate you looking into this," said Twilight as she stepped away from the portal. "That will let me focus on this and ..." She stopped and trailed off, looking around.

"You okay, Twilight?" Spike asked.

"There is it again," said Twilight. "That strange tingling. And now it's gone. Where is it coming from?"

"It must be from the portal," said Starlight. "My fur feels all staticky."

"No, it's not that," said Twilight. "I felt the same thing when I first looked at the portal with Shining Armor, and in this same exact spot. It's something else."

Starlight approached. "Here, let me try."

Twilight moved aside and pointed a hoof. "Right there."

Starlight trotted over and stood, then shrugged. "I got nothing."

Twilight gently pushed her to the side and occupied the spot again. "I felt it again! And, again, it's gone just as fast."

"What exactly did you feel?" Starlight asked.

"It's really weird. It's not like a normal tingling like you'd get in a powerful magic field. It's more like it came from, well, inside me. Like ... like I had a big tuning fork inside me and somepony just barely bumped it."

Starlight lighted her horn and paced out a circle around Twilight. "I'm not sensing anything. I'm even checking for mind magic in case a spell is just making you think you felt something."

Twilight looked thoughtful. She stepped off the spot again, lighted her horn, and stepped into it once more. "If the source is not in this room, it could be from another part of the building."

"The second floor, maybe?" Spike suggested.

"Princess Celestia said that's where Sunset built a shrine to her," said Starlight.

"Celestia likely cleared out that room as she did the others, but it might be worth taking a look," said Twilight. "Let's go."





Sunset Glow uttered a soft and quavering sigh as she stared at a family portrait that now seemed both familiar and alien to her. Until a day ago, it had depicted her, her husband Shimmering, and their "only" foal Night. Now a brightly smiling red and yellow unicorn filly sat next to Night. Both she and Night had a foreleg wrapped around each other.

She lowered the portrait to the table, the aura of her magic fading from around it as the timbers overhead creaked. "Shimmy? Are you still up in the attic?"

"Coming down now, love," came a faint and muffled reply.

Glow could scarcely believe that they had several boxes worth of stuff from Sunset's foalhood all this time, yet thanks to Celestia's infernal spell, they could stare right at them without ever seeing them. She could almost laugh at the discussions they had about never having enough attic space and wondering why.

She heard a clop of hooves from the hall, and Shimmering entered the room, another dust-choked box levitated before him. He set it down next to three others. "Have you had any luck?" he asked.

Glow glanced at the portrait. "I got distracted," she said in a soft voice.

Shimmering stepped up to her and wrapped a foreleg around her barrel. He cast a wistful gaze at the portrait. "How far did you get?"

Glow looked at the boxes. Her horn glowed, and a diary floated out of one of them. "Halfway through the second box." She levitated the journal before her and opened it briefly before slamming it closed and dropping it to the table with a thud. "Nothing! No evidence at all that she ever thought those terrible things that Princess Celestia claimed she believed!"

"Glowy, please, we talked about this," said Shimmering in a delicate voice. "She did express those opinions to us once."

"Only after the Princess claimed to have forced her to reveal them."

"As much as I'm upset with the Princess, I don't think she's behind her beliefs."

Glow frowned but said nothing.

Shimmering ran a hoof through his mane. "Even if she was, we're not going to find proof of it here. We only have up to her early teen years before she went off to Celestia's school."

"That alone is proof she didn't get these ideas from us!"

"I don't understand what you want to accomplish. Does it matter where it came from?"

Glow slid out of her chair onto her hooves. "Yes, it does, Shimmy. I need to know. I have to know. Everypony keeps claiming that her beliefs were her ultimate downfall. That means whoever gave her those beliefs is partially responsible for her death."

"I understand your need for closure on this, but--"

"I'm not sure you do." Glow stepped over to the boxes and sighed. "But I think you're right, we're not going to find the answer here." She looked up and turned to her husband. "But I think I know where we might find the answer: in Twilight's diaries."

Shimmering's eyes widened. "What?"

"The claim is that Sunset was teaching Twilight her beliefs," said Glow. "Then there must be something in her journals as a foal about it. They might contain a clue."

"We don't have a right to--"

Glow stomped a fore-hoof. "We have every right to see them! Our daughter's legacy is at stake here. I'm going to talk to Night. He and Velvet have all of Twilight's old things."





Starlight growled as magic rippled a fetlock's length from the door to the second floor when she poked her hoof forward. "What is it with Canterlot being so seal-happy??"

Twilight smiled and stepped forward. She cast a spell at the seal, and it vanished in a flicker of light. "As I suspected, Celestia re-keyed all her seals concerning Sunset to allow us through."

Starlight pressed her hoof forward again. This time, she could touch the heavy wooden door, its surface covered in ornate carvings, not the least of which was Celestia's cutie mark near the top, and Sunset's cutie mark, smaller in size, below it. "Well, here goes nothing." She flicked the latch open and pushed open the door. Beyond was little more than dusty darkness.

"I can't see a thing in there," said Spike.

Twilight took a step forward, her hooves kicking up small clouds of dust. She frowned and tossed her head when her horn caught a cobweb. "I can see torches on the walls. Let me see if I can light them."

A short incantation later, and four small balls of light whipped about from Twilight's horn and flew to receptacles on either side of the room. Flames sprang up and bathed the room in soft light.

Starlight's pupils shrank. "What in--?"

"Wow," Spike breathed.

"Oh, g-goodness," Twilight murmured.

Stretching out before them was a tiled floor, a huge mosaic of Celestia's cutie mark surrounded by large, ancient runes, each as big as a pony. At regular intervals along each wall to the left and right were marble columns. Between the columns lay stained glass, back-lit by magical light that had been triggered by the lighting of the torches. One depicted Celestia in a heroic airborne pose, her large wings spread majestically, the Elements of Harmony encircling her as a cone of magical energy hurtled from her horn to entrap Discord in stone. Similar scenes glorified her defeat of Tirek, Sombra, and Nightmare Moon. Another depicted her as she would appear during the Summer Sun Celebration, her wings outstretched, the sun behind her, ponies kneeling before her on either side. Another showed Celestia in a similar pose, but below her were one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony. They sat on their haunches and lifted their fore-hooves to Celestia, lines spiraling from them up and around Celestia's horn.

At the far end of the room, a huge statue of Princess Celestia sat upon a low dais. Her wings were stretched out and up, her head held high, her head and hooves adorned with full royal regalia. A magical light shone on her from above and projected a beatific halo about her head. Her eyes and her cutie mark glowed faintly.

"When the Princess said Sunset had built a shrine to her, she wasn't kidding," Starlight murmured.

"I ... I almost didn't believe Celestia when she said Aunt Sunset worshiped her," Twilight said in a hushed voice.

Spike looked around. "Maybe Sunset just really liked Princess Celestia a lot?"

"This goes far beyond mere like," said Twilight softly. She pointed to the floor. "Look at these runes for instance."

Starlight frowned as she stared at them. "I can't read them."

"I can," said Twilight. "It's in very old tribal script. This one, for example, says 'love'."

"Well, that doesn't sound bad," said Spike.

"Except it's written in second person future imperative."

"Oh, okay, so ... um ... huh?"

"Loosely translated, this really means 'You will love', the implied direct object being Celestia," explained Twilight. "So this says 'You will love Celestia'. This next one is 'You will obey Celestia'. Then 'You will worship Celestia', and so on, each one describing some deep level of religious fealty to her."

Starlight stepped up to the stained glass scene depicting the defeat of Discord. "Uh, isn't there a distinct lack of Princess Luna in this scene?"

Twilight joined her. "Yes, there is. And in the one with Tirek, and the one with Sombra. And look at this." She trotted up to another scene.

Starlight and Spike followed. "Um, so?" said Starlight. "It's a Summer Sun Celebration."

"Look at the ponies to either side."

"Well, they're bowing. No, wait, they're--"

"They're kneeling, with all four legs." Twilight turned to her. "That's a classic prostration pose back when the ancient pony tribes worshiped pantheons of gods." She looked around, her eyes falling on a spot on the floor some five pony lengths before the statue. "I thought so."

"Thought what?" Starlight asked, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she spotted it as well: a slightly discolored rectangle on the dusty floor.

Twilight's horn glowed, and a brief blast of wind cleared the dust from a threadbare rectangular mat on the floor. "This is a replica of an ancient prayer mat. It was used by the pony tribes to conduct prayer services and sacred rites."

"Okay, now this is getting creepy," said Starlight.

"I know, this is very strange to us, but something must have prompted Aunt Sunset to go to these elaborate lengths," said Twilight. "But what?"

"I know I'm going out on a limb here, but maybe she was just, I don't know, a little cuckoo?"

Spike fidgeted. "Glad someone else said it."

"You may be correct," Twilight admitted in a reluctant voice. "But Starswirl the Bearded did research on the ancient practices and concluded that prayer could generate actual effects."

Starlight gave her a wary look. "But nopony believes those ancient deities were real."

"Yes, but Starswirl theorized that those ancient ponies were tapping into their own budding magical abilities. When ponykind realized that, they largely abandoned religious worship." Twilight looked up at the statue. "I wonder now if this were just some sort of unusual magical experiment."

"That's a bit of a stretch in my view."

Spike's eyes drifted down. "Hey, Twilight, look! Your wind spell blew some dust off the base of the statue. I think I see some writing."

Twilight trotted over to the statue, where a plaque lay at Celestia's fore-hooves. She looked down and read aloud. "All praise be to the Solar Goddess. Let Her life-giving light shine forever upon ponykind. She will not fail you if you do not fail Her."

"There's a page on the floor right in front of it," said Starlight. She levitated the yellowed document before her.

Twilight's eyes widened. "That's Celestia's writing!"

Starlight read it aloud. "Dearest Sunset, please forgive me for failing to live up to your ideals. I feel you have been cheated, in that you devoted yourself to a pony who is as fallible as the rest. I can only demand of myself so many times how you came to believe as such before I will go mad. If it was something I did, if I ever once even hinted I wanted your worship, you have my unending regret and sorrow. I know not of the nature of the afterlife, but I hope this missive somehow finds its way to you and allows you peace."

Twilight let out a heartfelt sigh and lowered her gaze. "Poor Celestia. She must have written that when she was still grieving for Aunt Sunset. Maybe that's why she left this shrine intact, in hopes that just maybe her spirit would somehow find this letter. It would be in keeping with some ancient practices."

Starlight lowered the missive to the floor. "It is sweet in a way."

Twilight's head suddenly whipped towards the statue. She took another step forward. "Starlight ... this statue ... it's the source of the strange energy I sensed in the lab."

Starlight's eyes widened. "It is?"

"What does it mean?" Spike asked.

Twilight trotted slowly around it. "I'm not sure. I don't even know quite what it is yet."

Starlight frowned. "Twilight, I'd be very careful if I were you. If Sunset left some kind of booby trap in here--"

"What would be the point of that?" Twilight said. "Anyway, now that it's a little stronger, it feels ... familiar somehow."

"What's making me really wary about this is that I still can't detect this energy myself."

Twilight stopped pacing around the statue. "Perhaps it's because I'm an alicorn."

"But if that's the case, don't you think Princess Celestia would have sensed it?" said Starlight. "At least she never mentioned anything like that to me."

Twilight came around the front of the statue and approached the others. "Then let's go ask her about it."





"Absolutely not," declared Twilight Velvet before Night Light could even open his mouth.

"I wasn't asking you," Glow said in a cool voice.

"We both happen to be Twilight's parents, in case you haven't noticed," said Velvet in an acid voice. "And we can't just give you her private journals."

"Can you at least tell me if you found--"

"Mom, we don't read her old journals!" Night finally said. "And, Velly, please, calm down."

Velvet took a deep breath. "My apologies, I just ... I've never felt this much stress in the household before, not since Sunset first, well, passed on."

"We only know those parts of Twilight's diaries that she shared with us," said Night. "We don't ask to see them. She entrusted them to us, and we will continue to honor that trust."

Shining stepped forward. "Grandma, why don't you just ask Twilight about this? I'm sure if you explain things to her, she'll be glad to help."

Glow averted her eyes. "I-I guess I was afraid she might ignore me."

"Mom, why would you think that?" asked Night.

Glow sighed. "I've just ... I ..." She took a deep breath and lifted her head. "Please, don't take this the wrong way, but Twilight idolized Princess Celestia for so long that I'm afraid she might cover for the Princess."

"Grandma, Twilight wouldn't do that," Shining said. "She wants to know the truth same as anypony."

"But why isn't she as angry with the Princess as the rest of us?"

"That's just how Twily is," said Shining with a small smile.

"Mom, Twilight is upset with the Princess," said Night. "But she also has an important task to do right now. She has to work with Princess Celestia to do it."

"Goodness knows, I've had my reservations about things the Princess has done in the past concerning Twily," said Velvet. "But Twilight is a grown mare. She can make her own decisions."

Glow's eyes misted. "You really think she'd help me?"

"I'm positive she will," said Shining. "Let me go find Twilight for you, and I'll ask her on your behalf."

Glow slowly smiled. "Thank you, Shiny. I'm sorry I'm being such a pest."

Night smiled and hugged her. "You're never a pest, Mom."

"I'm sorry I was short with you," said Velvet. "Perhaps I can make up for it with some tea?"

"Yes, please, that would be nice," said Glow.

Velvet smiled and trotted off into the kitchen.

"I'll go see if I can find Twilight," said Shining as he turned away.





Celestia looked both thoughtful and sorrowful as she listened to Twilight and Starlight's account of their visit to the shrine. When they were done, she forced a small smile. "Would you think me strange if I told you that I am disappointed that my letter was still there?"

Twilight smiled. "Not at all. I understand how you felt about her."

Celestia slowly paced. "But to answer your question, Twilight, I never detected any sort of magical resonance in that room, other than what powered the stained glass lights."

"When was the last time you visited the room?" Starlight asked.

"I visited it on the very night that I checked on the rift," said Celestia. "Right after Luna told me you and Twilight had detected it. Had there been any residual magic, I would most assuredly have sensed it."

"This is very strange," said Twilight. "I know what I sensed. It was only fleeting in the room above, but when I stand right next to that statue, I can sense it constantly." She turned to Celestia. "You've heard about the possibility of Aunt Sunset being alive?"

Celestia nodded once. "If Sunset has done anything to disturb that world, I pledge to do whatever is in my power to fix it." She hesitated. "I want to believe she is still with us, but it is hard to hold out hope."

"I feel I owe it to her to see if she's alive," said Twilight. "Despite whatever she did and may have done, she's still family."

Celestia smiled. "You are to be greatly admired for your dedication, Twilight. Sunset was right in choosing to lavish such affection on you. She always spoke highly of you."

"She did?" Starlight asked.

"This is yet another reason why I believed she was on her way to Ascension," said Celestia. "She had the ability to sense future magical talent in others. She sensed the very same thing in you, Twilight, that I had sensed. When she shared with me what she had learned, I encouraged her to spend more time with you, not realizing what could result."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Now Sunset sounds suspiciously like she wanted Twilight as her own protege."

"Perhaps," said Celestia. "Had things turned out differently, I may very well have allowed Sunset to instruct Twilight."

Twilight looked intensely thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder now if Aunt Sunset and I were closer than perhaps I had realized. I can't help but think it may have something to do with what I'm sensing in the shrine."

"Uh, isn't that a bit of a stretch?" said Starlight.

"But why I am the only one who can sense it? It's almost as if it were meant for me to find."

"Maybe all she wanted was to indoctrinate you in her little 'Church of Celestia,'" said Starlight.

"You could be right, but I feel I need to know for sure." She turned to Celestia. "Thank you for your time."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," said Celestia. "But I may have something else for you. Starlight had mentioned a pony named Star Singer with whom I was not familiar."

"Yes, we believe she and Aunt Sunset may have been close friends," said Twilight. "Or at least worked together in some capacity."

"I had my clerks review Day Court records from around that time," said Celestia. "Star Singer had apparently petitioned to see me on a very urgent matter just before I cast the spell that wiped memory of Sunset. Do you wish me to follow up on this, Twilight?"

"Yes, please," said Twilight. "I'd be interested in hearing her side of this." She turned to Starlight. "Let's go." 

Celestia hesitated as the two ponies turned away before calling out, "Twilight, please, wait."

Twilight stopped and turned. "Yes?"

Celestia slowly smiled. "I would be honored if you would consider joining me for dinner this evening."

"Oh, um ... "

"Feel free to bring any of your friends or family along."

Twilight paused. "Well, I think I better remain focused on this task, but, thank you."

Celestia nodded. "As you wish."

Starlight glanced over her shoulder as they left the throne room. "Did I hear you right? You give up a chance to spend time with the Princess?"

"I don't feel comfortable yet being with her in such a casual setting," said Twilight. "The more I dwell on Aunt Sunset, the more I realize I have emotions I still need to sort through concerning Celestia."

"I thought you said you forgave her."

"I did. At least, I think so." Twilight sighed, her ears drooping. "I keep trying to convince myself that she thought she was doing the right thing twenty-one years ago, but I'm having a harder time with it than I thought I would. I just--"

"Twily, there you are!" came her brother's voice from up ahead.

Twilight lifted her head. "Oh, hi, Shining. Were you looked for me?"

Shining cantered up to them. "I have a request from grandma Glow. She wants to look at your old journals."

Twilight gave him a confused look. "She does? Why?"

Shining sighed. "She's having a very hard time dealing with Aunt Sunset's beliefs. She's insisting they had to come from somewhere else other than her own head."

"That sounds familiar," murmured Starlight.

"Huh?" said Shining.

Twilight gave Starlight a cross look. "That's not quite what I meant. I was talking about her motivations." She turned back to Shining. "She's not going to find what she wants. I remember that time well now, and I doubt there's anything in my old diaries that's any different."

"Still, I think we should humor her, if for no other reason than to get her off your back," said Shining. "I hate to be that blunt, because I know this is hitting her hard."

"No, I understand. I'd like a chance to look at those old diaries myself, just to make sure my memories are as accurate as I think they are. Do you want to come along, Starlight?"

Starlight smirked. "That depends. Will there be embarrassing adorkable stuff about you from when you were a little foal?"

Shining placed a hoof to his muzzle to hide a grin. Twilight rolled her eyes and said in a reluctant voice, "Most likely, yes."

Starlight grinned. "Then count me in!"

"Figures," Twilight muttered.





Twilight face-hoofed as she heard Starlight giggle behind her yet again. Arrayed around them on the floor of Twilight's old bedroom were the journals she had written as a foal. While Twilight had been intent on searching for any material concerning Sunset, Starlight appeared to be more interested in amusing herself.

"Oh my gosh, look at this!" Starlight said, her voice bubbling with mirth. "Your parents were late getting home from some sort of engagement, and you created a table of possible causes, all with probabilities listed. And you calculated a non-zero chance of things like were-breezies and minotaur ninjas!"

Twilight ground her teeth as Starlight fell over onto her back in a fit of giggles. "Give me that!" Twilight snapped as she snatched the journal from Starlight's faltering grip. "Will you be serious, please?"

Starlight rolled back onto her hooves, wiping away tears of laughter. "Sorry, Twilight, you were just sooo adorkable when you were a foal."

"We really need to focus, Starlight. And stop using that word! It doesn't even exist!"

"But if it did, it would have a picture of you next to it in the dictionary," Starlight said, triggering another round of giggles.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Stop it." She lifted another journal into view, open to a page about two thirds through. "I found something interesting." She floated the journal over so they could both see. "This entry details a story that Aunt Sunset told me. I had remembered this, but not all the details. Read it for yourself."

Starlight stepped forward and brought her eyes to focus on Twilight's impeccable script despite her being only five at the time: Auntie Sunset told me a fun story! One upon a time, there was a beautiful mare who did all sorts of nice things for other ponies. She wanted them all to be happy and safe. She even did nice things for non-ponies, too! One day, a strange creature appeared. He was really mean and wanted to hurt ponies and break things. Everypony turned to the beautiful mare and begged her to help. "Believe in me, my ponies, and I will defeat him!" But even with all the ponies believing in her, the mare just barely defeated the evil creature. She looked like I did that time I fell down the stairs before Mommy took me to the hospital. Somepony said, "The non-ponies didn't believe in her!" But the non-ponies said, "We did believe in her with all our hearts, but it didn't help!" And the beautiful mare said, "Fear not! I will find a way to make you all ponies, and then everything will be better!" And one day, she did, and they all lived happily ever after.

Starlight lifted her head. "Huh. Not exactly subtle, was she?"

"But do you notice something interesting about this story?" asked Twilight.

"Other than it really highlights her beliefs about creating some sort of all-pony utopia?"

"Yes, other than that," Twilight said. "Not once does it come right out and claim ponies are better."

"Uh, but isn't that implied?"

Twilight picked up a quill in her magic and jabbed it towards a particular passage. "It says 'I will find a way to make you all ponies, and then everything will be better.' It does not say 'you will all be better.'"

"Well, okay, yeah," said Starlight. "But isn't that just a matter of semantics?"

"One thing I've learned about Aunt Sunset is that she was very much concerned with exact meanings," said Twilight.

"I would say you are very much like that as well," Starlight said cautiously.

"I know where you're going with this. You're concerned that I'm projecting my own persona onto Aunt Sunset."

"Well, yeah."

Twilight set down the journal and quill. "You can't deny that there are some similarities between us. Maybe our demeanor and outlook were different, but we're both intellectuals. We care about things like facts and precise meanings."

"And you're sure you took down the story correctly?" Starlight asked.

"Positive. I've always had a good short term memory, and that's what would be needed to convey the story accurately. I believe this represents exactly what Aunt Sunset told me."

"Okay, then what about the chance that she was crafting her words very carefully to cover her tracks, and she counted on an impressionable filly to read between the lines? Especially given how your family hadn't realized what she believed."

Twilight was silent for a long moment. "I suppose that's possible. I guess I just don't want to believe that she intended to be deceptive towards even me. I know you may accuse me of being biased, but I feel a bond with her that I can't explain. Why would I be the only one to feel that odd resonance at the shrine?"

"Which we don't seem to be any closer to figuring out," Starlight muttered.

Twilight looked at the journals around her. "We hadn't come here for that."

"I know, but I was kinda hoping we'd find something anyway."

"One thing I am sure of," said Twilight as she picked up another journal. "Grandma Glow isn't getting the answer she wants from these. There's nothing here that hints at where Aunt Sunset got her beliefs."

Starlight picked up another journal as well and flipped through it idly. "I think it's more a case that they have an answer she doesn't want to hear."

"You're probably right, but ..." Twilight trailed off as she saw Starlight staring at something on a page and smiling. "What is it?"

"Oh, just something cute."

Twilight sighed. "Please, not another embarrassing moment from my foalhood. I get enough of that from my Mom."

"Eh, not really." Starlight turned the journal around.

Twilight slowly smiled as her gaze fell on a page of doodles, mostly of Sunset or her cutie mark. "Oh, that. I often did that on the last few pages of a journal. It always reflected whatever or whoever I was most interested in." She picked up another journal and opened it to a back page, which was filled with sketches of Cadance. "See? This was after Cadance started foal-sitting me."

Starlight grabbed a few more journals and flipped to the back. On the third one, she gasped. "Oh, my."

Twilight turned her head. Her ears drooped. "I can guess which one that is."

The top part of the page was filled with the usual doodles of Sunset, but halfway down the page, it became shaky drawings of the family, all looking sad, sometimes with tears dripping from their eyes. Interspersed among the pictures was the same word over and over: WHY.

Twilight uttered a heavy sigh, and her eyes glistened.

"Um, sorry," Starlight said in a soft voice.

Twilight closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "It's fine, Starlight. I should have expected this would jog some sad memories."

Starlight turned the page, and she let out a shaky breath. "Oh, Twilight, this ... this is lovely."

"Huh? What is?"

"This beautiful sentiment you wrote in here."

Twilight stepped over to Starlight. She stared at a page half-filled with more sad drawings, but part of it had been erased, and in its place were the words: You have left this world, yet I can still follow in your hoofsteps. All I need to do is be true to who and what I am, and I will unerringly find my way. I will seek what is dear and true to my heart, and there I will find the answer.

Starlight took a deep breath. "Twilight, that is really a very sweet--"

"I didn't write this!" Twilight cried.

Starlight's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Twilight grabbed the journal fully in her magic and read the passage again. "Yes, it ... it is very nice, but I didn't write this."

"Maybe you just don't remember because of your emotional--"

"No, Starlight! I would remember writing something like this. Look at the structure of the prose. This is too sophisticated for my age at the time." She stared at the comment again, her horn glowing. "This is not even written with the same pencils I used back then."

"But it looks like your horn-writing."

"Which could be duplicated with a well-crafted spell," Twilight declared. "This is not a message from me to Aunt Sunset, this is a message from Aunt Sunset to me! Look how cleanly the drawings were erased to accommodate the text. She wrote this with some sort of time-delay spell on it so it wouldn't appear right away."

"And she put it in your horn-writing so anypony else looking at this wouldn't be the wiser."

"Exactly!"

"Okay, so, what does this message mean?"

Twilight stared at the text. It took a bit of effort to separate sentiment from rationality. As much as the words tugged at her heart, she had to focus on a deeper and more obscure meaning. "Be true to who and what I am," Twilight murmured. "I will seek what is true and dear to my heart."

"So what was true and dear to your heart back then?"

Twilight looked up. "I don't know! My heart was tugged in so many directions. I looked up to Aunt Sunset, yes, but I also dearly loved my big brother, and I was fascinated with Princess Celestia. I had also started reading about Starswirl the Bearded."

Starlight considered. "All right, say this is a message from Sunset to you. What would be dear to her heart?"

"Well, Celestia, of course," said Twilight. "If that shrine of hers is any indication ... if ..." She gasped. "That's it!"

"Huh?" said Starlight. "What's it?"

"The shrine! That's where she wanted me to find 'the answer.' She said to be true to who and what I am. She's referring to my morphic resonance!"

Starlight blinked. "She is? How do you figure that?"

"The magic in that shrine is impinging on my morphic resonance. That's why only I can feel it, and why it feels like it's coming from inside me. It must be a magical key."

"Then why didn't some secret thing open up when you were near it?"

"Because it's not quite correct. It's trying to seek my resonance as it was when I was a unicorn! Since I've Ascended, it's changed. There was no way Aunt Sunset could anticipate that I would become an alicorn. If I can create some sort of filter, some way of altering my apparent signature so that the keyed spell will trigger, then--"

Starlight raised her fore-hooves. "Whoa, whoa! Isn't that a huge risk?"

Twilight gave her a cross look. "What are you talking about?"

"We already know Sunset figured out how to mess with the morphic resonance. How do we know this isn't some sort of trap?"

"Why would she do such a thing?" Twilight said. "And to the unicorn who looked up to her the most? Come on, we need to get to a magic lab so I can start working on this."

Starlight frowned. "Fine. But if this winds up turning you into a kumquat, don't come crying to me."

> Chapter 23 - Pandemonium
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bob realized that it was likely another few days before he would start to show symptoms himself, yet he looked himself over in the mirror carefully anyway after taking his shower that Sunday morning. As far as he could tell, he was still thoroughly normal.

"Hey, you almost done in there?" came Jenny's voice through the door.

Bob retreated from the mirror and checked that his bathrobe was closed. "Yeah, I'm done." He opened the door and hesitated as he stared at Jenny's face.

"Yeah, I know already," said Jenny. "Purple eyes. I had it before going to bed last night."

"I thought you were hoping for that color," Bob said in a neutral voice.

"Sure, right," Jenny murmured.

"Sorry."

Jenny shook her head, wavy pink hair flying. She brushed a few strands out of her eyes. "Have you heard from Tina?"

"She's doing okay. She sprained her ankle, but it's minor. They said she should heal in a week."

Jenny nodded. "At least you can talk to her."

"Well, sure," Bob said in an uncertain voice. "Can't you ... oh, you mean you still can't talk to James?"

"No, and thanks to all this shit with this stupid emergency, Mom's not letting any of us out of her sight, so I can't even meet up with him."

Bob didn't give voice to his initial response, as it would have likely sounded too harsh. It took him a moment to realize Jenny had described her grievance in plain language and not fantasy-speak.

Something of Bob's mixed emotions must have shown on his face, as Jenny countered with, "Yeah, I know, I get it. I'm just a self-centered brat."

"I didn't say that," said Bob.

"But Tina did."

"When did ...?" Bob began, but he remembered it himself a moment later.

"On Thursday when you and Tina were posting pics of Laura's tail," said Jenny. "She thought I hadn't heard her."

"Yeah, she did say that, but ... well, she tends to be kind of forthright like that."

"I didn't hear you disagree with her," Jenny said.

"Jenny, I'm not sure what you want from me," said Bob in a slightly terse voice. "I really don't want to go into this now."

Jenny opened her mouth, her face suggesting she was about to issue a sharp retort, but she closed it and remained silent for a few moments. "Fine. Anyway, you said you were done in there, right?"

Bob nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Jenny barreled past him and slammed the door in her wake.

He returned to his bedroom and started to get dressed. His computer chimed, and he turned his head to see an incoming call on Skype. He hastened to finish dressing before closing the door of his room and dropping into his seat before his computer.

"Heya, Bobby," came his mother's voice, the video struggling to start over Eileen's lower bandwidth connection. It finally flickered to life as she said, "Sorry, I mean Bob."

"Hi, Mom," Bob said. "Are you feeling better?"

Eileen was dressed in corduroy slacks and a thick sweater. "Eh, mostly. Fever's down enough so I don't have to completely bundle up."

"It's just that you look like you're going out somewhere."

Eileen chuckled. "Can't get anything past you. Yeah, I am, which is why I'm calling. I'm coming to get you out of there."

Bob gave her a nonplussed look. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't want you catching whatever is going around that town."

"Mom, I don't think you should try this."

"Why not? You told me yourself you wanted to come back home."

Bob had not said that. He had only just barely implied that he might consider it, and things had radically changed since then.

"But I'm going to need your help," said Eileen.

"Huh?" said Bob. "My help? For what?"

"Sarah is not going to let me set foot in that house despite my legal rights, and I don't have the time or money to get a lawyer or the patience to wait for the damn state bureaucracy. You need to find some excuse to be outside so I don't have to worry about that."

Bob bit back his initial response, that he was revolted by the idea that she would think he would violate Sarah and Harold's trust. "You won't be able to get me out of here. There's been a public health emergency declared."

"Yeah, I know about that, it's all over the news," said Eileen.

"Maybe you don't know this part: we've been told to remain in town. A reverse-911 call came in this morning. We're in isolation and quarantine."

"The hell?" Eileen said. "You're not even sick!"

"That's the quarantine part," said Bob with forced patience. "I've been exposed, so they need to see if I develop symptoms."

"I don't want them using my son as a lab rat!" Eileen declared.

"You're not going to have any choice. I doubt they'll even let you into town. They've probably set up roadblocks." Bob actually had no idea if that were true. A public health emergency did not automatically lead to authorization to suspend the freedom of movement provision of the Constitution.

"Then we'll try the back roads or the mountain trails. I'm not leaving you there. It's not safe." Eileen smiled faintly and ran a hand through her hair. "I also have a little backup plan that I'm sure will convince them to let me in. Besides, don't you want to be back with your mother?"

Bob had desperately hoped that question would not arise. Lying to spare someone's feelings was tolerable to him, but he wondered if that would make things worse. It would just string his mother along with false hope that they would be the ideal mother and son family that she still wanted.

His silence was taken as an answer, but not the correct one. "Bob, I understand, you like having the cushy life with Sarah and Harold. I know you'll have to give up a lot, and we'll be living day-to-day, but all that matters to me is that you're safe."

Bob swallowed hard. "Please don't do this, Mom. You'll only get hurt."

Eileen smirked. "Don't underestimate your mother. I'm not so old I can't take a few knocks."

"That's not what I mean," Bob said in a helpless voice.

Eileen glanced to the side as her doorbell chimed in the background. "That's my ride. I gotta go. I'll call you later when I'm closer to town."

Bob's eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of his mother's "backup plan": a streak of crudely dyed purple down the back of her head. "Mom, wait--!"

"I love you," said Eileen before she hung up.

Bob covered his eyes with his hand. Now what?





Laura found herself asking the same question: now what?

She was still in her bedroom, wearing an old nightgown Jenny had outgrown the year before. She had been up for nearly an hour, remaining as quiet as she could so the rest of the family would think she was still sleeping.

She willed herself to stand, but her body only partially complied. She could not stand perfectly straight no matter how hard she strained. It was if her body were simply no longer capable of moving to an erect state, let alone hold her there.

Her tail flicked itself out of the way as Laura sat down and pulled up her nightgown. Feet were still feet, but starting above the ankle, her calves were covered in short, soft yellow fur. She drew the gown further up, to where the fur ended a few inches short of her knees. The bare skin just beyond faintly itched. She was almost sure it had advanced another quarter inch since she had awoken.

She let the nightgown fall and wrapped her arms around herself. How was she supposed to care for fur? Shampoo it like hair? She already used three times as much as she once did just to deal with her thick hair and tail. What if she ran out? What if the town ran out? She almost laughed. These inquiries were stupid. Practical, perhaps, but stupid compared to the idea that she was turning into a pony.

Laura finally shuddered, like she thought she should have when she first woke up with fur. Instead, she had almost greeted the new development with equanimity. Not quite, but close enough to worry her. It had first prompted the original question: now what?

She dreaded revealing this to her family. What could they do? Tell her to go to the doctor? Wait for one to come to her? She had not heard the reverse-911 call, but she had seen a news report on her phone. She could guess Mom would want them to stay put, so there went her chance to be with Tina.

Laura had no idea how she had managed this state of uneasy calm. Was it hanging by so thin a thread that her parents' upset would shatter it? Dad wasn't so bad, but Mom could freak out sometimes, at least in her view. She didn't need that kind of atmosphere right now.

What was the responsible thing to do?

Laura bit her lip. That was what counted, wasn't it? When Sarah had heard what happened the day before, she had expressed nothing but concern for Laura's well-being. Laura wondered what else her mother had been thinking.

Laura picked up her phone and called her friend Tina.

"Hey, Laura," said Tina in a groggy voice.

"Um, hi," said Laura. "You sure you're awake?"

"As awake as I can be. Pain meds sorta knocked me out last night."

Laura wrapped her free arm around herself. "Sorry you're in so much pain."

"Eh, I'm just a complainer, it's not that bad," said Tina. "Just need to keep icing it a few times a day."

"I'm really sorry for this."

"Yeah, I knew that was coming. It's not your fault. I told you that yesterday."

"But wasn't it, well, irresponsible of me to--"

"You had no idea what was going to happen. Even when that blow-hard preacher is in town, he doesn't rile up people that much. I could've been more forceful about turning you away from it. It doesn't have to be on you all the time."

Laura thought back to how at least when she had screwed up with Jenny, no one had gotten hurt. She shook her head as if to dislodge that thought. "I really wish we could meet up today," Laura said in a hushed voice.

"Only if you can come over here," said Tina. "I'm not going anywhere for a few days at least." She paused. "Um, so ... did anything else ...?"

"Fur," Laura said in a flat voice. "On my legs."

"Crap, I'm sorry," said Tina.

"It's ... it's fine. I ..." Laura was about to convey everything she had just spent the last hour thinking about, but decided that might disrupt her precarious calm. "I'm coping, let's just leave it at that."

"You still sound like you need someone to talk to."

"Yes, I do, but I doubt Mom is going to let any of us out of the house after yesterday."

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere, and my phone has a full charge."

Laura smiled faintly. "Thanks. I'll call you back. I haven't really gotten up yet."

Laura hung up, letting the hand holding the phone fall to her thigh. She finally stood and forced herself to greet the day.





The glass tubes that extended down from domes upon the roof of the compound already glowed bright with morning sunlight by the time Fred Turner opened his eyes. Fitting, perhaps, as he felt as if he had emerged from a long, dark tunnel. Thoughts swirled in his head in a maelstrom, yet they had gained a clarity he had not felt in a very long time. He lifted his head, looking about his room as if it were a stranger's home rather than where he had spent the better part of the last ten years.

Fred turned over and stumbled out of bed, landing hard on the floor. He righted himself quickly, standing on four hooves as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He knew just how unnatural it should be, but he could not convince his body. As if to further make the point, his legs moved in perfect concert when he willed himself forward, the clopping noise threatening to shatter his new, tenuous hold on sanity.

Fred paused at the door. That thought presupposed he had been insane before this.

He headed into the bathroom and reared back on his hind legs, throwing his fore-legs over the front of the sink and drawing himself up where he could look at himself. A mouth at the end of a short muzzle dropped open, and his already large amber eyes widened further. His peach mane was wild and tangled, and his rust-red fur in disarray. He stared down at his fore-hooves, trying to will himself to imagine the hands that had been there before and failing. He was naked, having given up the day before trying to doctor his clothing to fit his rapidly distorting form, yet this state also seemed natural.

His surprise was not for his alien appearance, but for how normal it seemed. That was not the reason for his clarity of mind; something else had happened.

His ears swiveled towards a distant "pop" sound. Fred dropped his fore-hooves to the floor. He rushed out into the living space and came to a stumbling halt.

"Hello, Fred," said the little girl.

She was as he remembered from their last meeting only the day before, the same as she always was. She still wore the clothing the refugee camp had given her. She was still ... eight? Ten? She had never told him her age. Or her name, for that matter.

His eyes flicked down to the ragged satchel she held in her hands. "Why ... why are you carrying that? How did you get it out of--"

"I've come to warn you," said the girl in a solemn voice.

Fred gave her a confused look. "Warn me?"

"They're coming for you."

Fred's pupils shrank slightly, and his ears drew back. "Who??"

"The state. The government. The ones who have been out to get you all along."

Fred backed up a step, standing with one fore-hoof lifted off the floor. Her words had urged him to retreat into his fortifications, an instinct rather than a premeditated thought. He frowned and set his hoof down. "Something's happened to me."

The girl stepped forward and smiled. "I said you would be all right in the end."

"That's not what I mean!" Fred thundered. "And how can you call this being all right? I don't even know what I am! Why doesn't it feel strange to me?!"

"Why should it feel strange? It's what you needed to be."

"You're not making any damn sense," Fred growled. "And when I meant something happened, I didn't mean just waking up like this. I also mean up here." He jabbed a fore-hoof towards his head. "Something's different. It's like I don't even know who I was for the past twenty years." He glanced around. "Or why I did what I did."

"I suppose this was inevitable," said the girl. "Though I had not expected it to happen so quickly. Your mind is clearing now that your body can handle the magic."

"The what??"

"The magic that got caught inside you when we first met, when I cast those first spells on you. I hadn't meant to affect you like that, but ... it served a purpose."

Fred stomped a fore-hoof on the floor, which shook from the impact. "Make sense, dammit!"

The girl glanced down. "Look what you just did."

"What are you ..." Fred began, but trailed off when he lifted a fore-hoof. His eyes widened at the crack on the concrete.

"You're strong, Fred," said the girl. "Stronger than you ever were. Stronger than you could ever be in your original form."

Fred's mind felt like an old piece of silver where years of tarnish were being slowly stripped away. "Did you do this to me? Change me into this?" His teeth clenched. "Did you make me insane?!"

The girl's eyes shimmered. "That's why I need to apologize."

Fred just stared.

"I'm so sorry it had to be this way, but I needed information. I needed time. And when I was ready--" She lifted the satchel briefly. "--I needed someplace safe for this."

Fred's eyes focused on the satchel. "You're taking it back?"

"Yes. It's served its purpose, and this place is no longer safe for it."

"You said it would give me the answer. I felt so close, only now ... now ..." Fred again glanced about him like he had just wandered into a strange place. "This was all a lie."

"Not really," said the girl. "It did provide an answer. You're who and what you need to be. You'll have your mental faculties fully restored soon, and you have a body that will serve you well."

"I want to believe you," Fred said through clenched teeth. "I want to think you're real, but what if you're just a leftover figment of my madness? What if--"

He was startled by a loud thumping on his front door and the attention buzz of his intercom. He crossed the room and hit the button with his fore-hoof. A voice crackled over the speaker, "Mr. Turner, this is the police! You are to open this door and come out at once!"

Instinct rose in Fred to assert his rights, but his throat was too tight to speak.

"Mr. Turner, we are under the authority of a court order to carry out a directive to take you into medical isolation as warranted by the Colorado Department of Health. You are not under arrest. Repeat: you are not under arrest. This is for your safety and the safety of the public."

Fred swallowed hard, and he turned his head towards the girl.

"I didn't lie," she said. "I said they were coming to get you, and they are."

"Mr. Turner, please do not make this difficult," the officer said in as much a plea as a command. "We are more than willing to hand this over to the National Guard if we are unable to extract you."

Fred spun around and faced the girl. "You did this to me. You put me in this position."

"And again, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

"But what am I supposed to do?!"

"I will leave that up to you," said the girl. "There's little that can be done now to stop what's been set in motion."

"But what--"

"I need to go," said the girl. "Goodbye, Fred. I wish you well."

Before Fred could say another word, there was a bright flash of light and a pop of imploding air. The little girl and her satchel were gone.





Police Chief John Barrows sighed and pulled off his hat with one hand and scratched his head with the other. "Shit, I do not want to have to break into this place."

Several officers stood alongside him. He and the others were wearing breath masks, which muffled their voices slightly. One of the officers turned to him. "If he wouldn't open up even for his own daughter, Chief, I doubt he will for us," said Rick.

"How long do you think we should give him?"

"If he doesn't respond in ten minutes, I say we'll have to go in."

Behind them, Kevin stood alongside several physicians who had arrived the night before, sent to supervise taking Turner into custody. "I really hope it doesn't come to that," said Kevin as he glanced at the men in fatigues behind him. "Not with your proposed 'backup.'"

John's radio squawked. "Chief, this is Jeb at the perimeter. You got him out of there yet?"

John lifted the radio. "Negative. What's up?"

"We got reporters here, and they're getting antsy."

"Shit," John muttered. "Keep them the hell out. Let them record you guys all they damn well please, but keep them back. How the fuck did they learn about this?"

"I don't think they quite know exactly what's going on, just that something's up. Might be a fishing expedition."

"Make sure they don't get a bite." John lowered his radio. "We gotta get 'im outta there pronto." He looked past the physicians towards the soldiers from the National Guard. "You boys think you can smoke him out of there without hurting him?"

"We're not sure, Chief," said the sergeant in the lead. "We looked over the blueprints for this place. Any sort of action in there is going to be close-quarters."

"I'd rather there not be 'action' of any sort," said Kevin.

"I know how you feel about the man, Doc," said John.

"It's also a practical consideration," said one of the other physicians. "I hate to sound so cold about this, but we need him alive and intact if we're to get to the bottom of this disease."

Kevin stepped over to John and said in a low voice, "Did you really need to bring the National Guard along? You do realize Mr. Turner can see all this on his monitors."

"I got no choice, Doc," John said in irritation. "And you better get used to seein' them because I'm short too many men right now. I got two officers who called in sick this morning."

Kevin's eyebrows rose, as did his voice. "With what?"

"The damned flu, of all things!"

One of the other physicians stepped forward. "Did you say the flu? There's a new case?"

"What does it matter?" asked another physician. "I thought we ruled out a direct link."

"But the flu had already run its course through this town. Why is there a new case now?"

Kevin turned back to John. "Chief, did these men have any contact at all with someone from outside of town?"

John tipped back his hat. "Well, I dunno. They weren't really in a state to answer a lot of questions. Is that important?"

"It could very well be. I'll want to talk to these men and--"

"Hey, wait a minute," said Rick. He glanced around. A few others did the same. "Did you feel that?"

"Huh," said John. "The weird tingly sensation is gone."

"Yeah, just like that!" said Rick. "Like a light switch flipped off."

"What the hell does it mean?" John asked.

A sudden metallic clank sounded from the door. A few seconds later, a low rumbling rose as the door parted from the right frame and retracted into the left.

"Sonuvabitch," John murmured. "He had a freaking solid metal sliding door. We never woulda gotten through that easily." He turned to his men. "All right, all of you, form up with me. Doc, you and the other physicians get back. Sarge, I need you and your men in case we hafta go in."

As they rearranged the order of battle, John nudged Rick. Rick nodded and called out, "Mr. Turner! Please walk slowly to the door with your hands where we can see them. Please acknowledge if you hear me and understand."

"I hear you," Fred growled. "I'm coming out."

"Chief, he may need assistance," said Kevin. "While he seemed balanced on his hooves, he was also severely hunched over. If that's gotten worse--"

He cut himself off when he heard the sound of not one pair of hoofsteps approach the door but two. Seconds later, a little rust-red and peach pony with amber eyes stepped into the light.

John stared and muttered, "What the everliving fuck?"

Rick's eyes widened. "This ... this can't be Turner ..."

The little pony spoke. "That's Mister Turner to you. Try giving me a little more respect for once."

One of the guardsmen leaned over to his sergeant. "Uh, Sarge? Is this some kinda joke?"

"I sure as hell hope it is," the sergeant muttered.





Sarah had not realized how rusty she was at using the sewing machine until she broke the needle on her first attempt, only then remembering she had to use a different needle when working with denim. At least Harold's persistent restlessness and relentless need to tinker since he was out of work meant her sewing machine had been lubricated on a regular basis and was in perfect working order; it was only her skill that was lacking.

She finally gave up working with denim at all, leaving her own jeans as her first and only attempt. She squirmed in her seat slightly. She had made the slot too narrow, and it already pinched the base of her now full-length tail, red and salmon pink hair spilling over the side of the chair and almost to the floor.

Sarah leaned back as she finally finished a similar adjustment to a set of sweatpants for Laura. She stood and was about to call her daughter when she winced and rubbed her forehead. She headed into the downstairs bathroom to see if another dose of ibuprofen would finally knock out the headache she had upon awakening.

Harold met her as she emerged from the bathroom. "I finally heard back from some of my father's neighbors. They're strapped for workers as well because of the flu."

"Well, you did your best," said Sarah.

Harold frowned. "I don't get it. Why the hell is there so much flu going around out there?"

"You saw the news this morning. It's a big outbreak."

"But concentrated in one area like that?" Harold said.

"They might've caught it from your sister."

"Then how did she get it?"

"What difference does it make?" Sarah said in a testy voice. "We can only worry about so many things at once. Now, if you really want to help, you'll fetch me a pair of your sweatpants."

"Uh, why?"

Sarah gave him a level look, her tail swishing once. "What do you think?"

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm handling the tail."

"You won't be able to for long," said Sarah.

"Why are you even doing this?"

"Same reason you tried to call your father's neighbors," Sarah said in a softer voice. "So I feel like I'm doing something. I can't do anything else for this family, especially Laura. She barely wants to talk to me."

"Maybe we should be talking to Jenny instead," said Harold. "I'm worried now that she's completely suppressed the memory of that storm."

Sarah sighed. "I'm not sure I can take more of hearing her fantasize this crisis."

"Except she isn't," said Harold. "I didn't get a chance to tell you yesterday because you were so concerned about Laura, but James called me aside and said he was concerned that Jenny had stopped coming up with new stuff for her story."

"Well, maybe that means she's finally taking this seriously," said Sarah.

"It's just so unusual for her."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Admit it. You like hearing it more than I do."

Harold shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"If you want to talk to Jenny, feel free," said Sarah. "I doubt she wants anything to do with the 'evil sorceress.' And yes, even though I can find it annoying, I do listen to her fantasizing, even when she doesn't think I am."

Harold was about to reply when the doorbell rang. He raised an eyebrow and headed to the front door.

"Harry, if that's anyone else other than the police or a doctor, I don't really want to--"

Harold looked out the peephole. "No, it's okay, honey," Harold said before opening the door.

A slightly hunched-over Sadie Sommers stood on the front porch, smiling. "Good morning, Mr. Tanner. I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"No, not really," Harold said as Sarah came to the door. "And call me Harry, please. This is my wife Sarah. Sarah, this is the woman I told you about. Sadie, was it?"

"Sadie Sommers," said Sadie. "But everyone calls me Sunny."

Sarah smiled. "Sunny, thank you being there to help Laura."

"She's the reason for my visit," said Sadie. "I wanted to know if she was okay. She seemed to be brooding a lot over what happened when I last saw her yesterday."

"That's nice of you to check on her," said Harold.

"I was wondering if I could see her." Sadie pointed to her ears. "We, ah, sort of have something in common."

Sarah exchanged a look with Harold. "Well, I don't know, she's been holed up in her room since--"

"Sunny??" came Laura's voice from behind them. Harold and Sarah turned. Laura stood halfway down the stairs, her ears swiveling. "I, um, heard her voice. Can she come in?"

"I don't see why not," said Harold.

Sarah nodded and stepped aside. Sadie's tail idly flicked a few times as she entered the house. Laura traversed the remainder of the stairs, her smile widening. "It's nice to see you again. Um ... did you wake up with--?"

"A little furry problem?" Sadie tugged up one leg of her slacks, revealing pale yellow fur. "Not to mention looking like I'm trying for the lead role in the Hunchback of Notre Dame."

Laura giggled faintly.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised anyone wants to be about," said Sarah.

Sadie shrugged. "National Guard's been arriving since early this morning. People don't want to make trouble when there's guys in fatigues holding guns walking about. Anyway, that reverse-911 call was kinda short on info. I mean, come on, 'await further instructions'? You'd think someone would have their act together by now."

"That's what I thought," said Sarah. "As much as I don't like the idea of soldiers about, at least it means maybe someone's about to do something for us."

"But if things are calming down in town," said Harold. "Maybe we can let the kids out."

"I still want the family to be close, Harry, and you wanted to talk to Jenny."

"Even if you do let me go see Tina," said Laura. "I still want to talk to Sunny for a bit, if that's okay."

Harold briefly squeezed Sarah's shoulders. "I'll go talk to Jenny if you'll stay with our guest."

Sarah nodded before Harold headed away. "Sunny, do you want anything?"

"Just some water, if you didn't mind," said Sadie.

Sarah smiled and headed to the kitchen.

Laura stepped closer to Sadie. "I didn't expect you to drop by, Sunny, but I'm glad you did. I guess all I really needed was to know someone else was like this, too."

"I would've stopped by sooner, but I had to tell an old friend goodbye," said Sadie.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Just one of those things. We had to go our separate ways. But, hey, I may have lost a friend, but I gained some new ones. I'd say that was an overall win."

Laura smiled. "I think I know why you go by the name 'Sunny.' It matches your disposition."

Sadie chuckled. "You could very well be right about that, Laura."





Kevin retreated to a physicians' lounge when his cell phone vibrated. As he took it out, he glanced over his shoulder at his looming, armed shadow. "Must you follow me everywhere?"

"Those are my orders, sir," said the National Guardsman as he followed Kevin inside. "This is for your own protection."

Kevin thought other factors were in play as well. Fred Turner had been taken into the Lazy Pines hospital through a back entrance, and security was tight. National Guard soldiers were stationed everywhere, and the wing Fred was in was being cleared of all other patients who were able to be moved safely.

He glanced at the caller ID and answered. "What is it, Heather?"

"First off, how did it go?" Heather asked.

Kevin glanced at the guardsman, who looked stoically on. "It went. The details don't matter. Suffice it to say that Mr. Turner is safely in the hospital."

Heather let out a sigh of relief. "What's his condition?"

"Worse," said Kevin. "Far worse. He--"

"Is he in there?" came a familiar female voice from the other side of the door. "Let me in right now."

Kevin turned as he saw a guardsman open the door. In strode a middle-aged woman with long, straight blond hair and wearing a lab coat. A breath mask covered her mouth and nose like everyone else in this wing of the hospital. "Whoever you're talking to right now, please stop."

Kevin frowned. "Hang on a minute, Heather." He muted the call. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm only going to say this once," the woman said. "No word of Mr. Turner's condition is to reach the public."

"Now hold on--"

"I know I don't have the legal weight behind that, but I'm strongly urging you not to spread word of this."

Kevin hesitated, then cracked a small smile as he finally recognized the voice. "Doctor Marlowe, I presume."

Sandra Marlowe extended her hand. "Yes, and I'm sorry for being so blunt."

Kevin accepted her hand. "Not at all. I'm speaking with my assistant. Everything I say about Turner is as his physician, and she knows it needs to remain confidential."

"May I ask that you refrain from that for now? At least until we have a chance to talk."

Kevin nodded and unmuted the call. "Sorry, Heather, I'll have to give you the details later. Doctor Marlowe just walked in."

"All right, I understand," said Heather. "I won't keep you, but I have to tell you this. I decided to head over to the hotel to comfort Janet while we waited to hear what happened with her father. She's sick. She has the flu."

Kevin's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"She has all the symptoms. I used a rapid test kit on her and it came back positive. I already have a respiratory sample in to the lab to determine which strain."

Kevin ran a hand over his head. "All right, keep me updated. I'll contact you soon." He hung up. "Another new flu case."

"We'll get back to that in a minute," said Sandra. "I wanted to tell you what we know so far."

"Other than a human being has done the impossible and transformed into an animal?"

"It's no animal we've ever seen on this planet," said Sandra. "He certainly appears to be an equinoid, though of no know variety, and he seems fully sapient despite the reduced cranial volume. The only other thing we know about him is that he's tremendously strong. Because we initially thought his mental state was impaired, we tried to restrain him. He literally bucked his rear hooves and broke apart a wheelchair like it was made of balsa. An orderly accidentally got clipped in the side by a hoof. He has a fractured rib."

"Good Lord," Kevin murmured.

"Turner apologized profusely for the injury, which was when we realized he was more lucid than we thought. He agreed to cooperate so long as we didn't restrain him."

Kevin paused to take it all in. "All right, so what's being done now?"

"Test, tests, and more tests," said Sandra. "Blood, urine, feces, hair, fur, hoof scrapings, the works. We're also starting a full DNA sequencing."

"Any imaging?"

"Only X-rays so far," said Sandra. "Bones and organs look in proper proportion for a creature of his body shape, other than his forelegs are far more flexible than any equinoid we've ever seen. If it wasn't for lack of fingers, he could practically use his fore-hooves like hands. Genitalia suggests he's still biologically male. We have no clue what's fueling his strength. Yes, his muscles are well-developed, but given his size, the impact of his strike was way out of proportion to what he should be capable of. Even the horse breeding expert we consulted was flummoxed."

Kevin looked thoughtful for a long moment. "Has he said anything about a little girl?"

"I'm sorry?"

"He's referred several times to what we thought was an imaginary companion," said Kevin. "He claimed she was a little girl from Afghanistan."

"While he's been cooperative, he hasn't volunteered information, and he clams up completely in the presence of the psychologist," said Sandra. "All we've noted is a seeming lack of concern for his nudity and some oddities in his diction. He's using pronouns like 'anypony' instead of 'anyone,' for instance. What about this companion?"

"I had postulated that she might be real, and he only thought she was a little girl. She might have fueled his paranoia."

"Did you share this with the police?"

"Yes, I did," said Kevin. "Chief Barrows said his men searched the compound from top to bottom and found no one and nothing unusual."

"Perhaps this is proof she was never real," said Sandra. "If something did make him become more lucid, that could've caused him to abandon that fantasy."

Kevin frowned. "Humor me, please, Doctor Marlowe--"

"Sandra. If we're going to be working together, we might as well drop some formalities."

"And please call me Kevin. As I was saying, I would like to speak with Turner myself."

Sandra tapped a finger against an arm. "Let me see what I can arrange. Access to him is very tightly restricted. I'll try to make the case that you're his physician."

"Thank you," said Kevin. "Speaking of restrictions, when are we going to release anything? If the timing of Mr. Turner's symptoms are representative, then we could potentially have half the town in his state by the end of this week."

"I know," said Sandra in a low voice. "I'm going to level with you, this is far worse than we thought. Waves are already rippling up to the federal level."

"I'm more concerned with how people will care for themselves," said Kevin. "Not having hands anymore is a huge disability."

"We're arranging for shelters where people can go if they feel they can't care for themselves or their families," said Sandra. "We're scrambling a bit, Kevin."

Kevin nodded. "All right, I think I understand the situation. I want to help."

"Yes, and one way you can do that is by becoming a patient."

"I expected as much. My apparent immunity to this. Do whatever testing you need."

Sandra smiled faintly. "We already have the mountain of consent forms ready for you to sign."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "I suppose I'll sympathize more with the paperwork my patients have to do. So then, back to the subject no one wants to think about: influenza."

"We've already contacted the police officers who have it and they agreed to be tested," said Sandra. "But if it comes up plain vanilla H1N1, I'm not sure what else we can do. We're relying on the CDC to slow the influenza spread."

"But I'm very concerned about the infection vector," said Kevin. "How did these people become sick?"

"You're still pushing the influenza link?"

If it had been asked in anything but a strictly professional tone, Kevin would have felt defensive. Instead, he took it to be simply a means to clarify his intent. "Yes, until the very moment that someone isolates the exact cause of this condition. I'll gladly look like a fool in the end if I'm wrong."

Sandra nodded. "Good. I was hoping you'd stick to your guns."

Kevin tilted his head. "You did?"

Sandra took a step closer to Kevin and lowered her voice. "The earlier reported number of flu cases may be a bit short of the mark. It may be as high as two hundred and fifty thousand."

Kevin's eyes widened. "That's a rather alarming discrepancy!"

"We'll do all we can to continue exploring the flu link, but we need to get a handle on what this condition is. I really need your focus there, Kevin."

Kevin nodded. "I'll do my best."

"I have to get back to work," said Sandra. "Anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"Do we have a name for this condition yet?"

"That's for the CDC to decide," said Sandra. "But we've unofficially named it ETS: Equine Transformation Syndrome."

> Chapter 24 - Future Imperfect
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Starlight pored over the array of notes before her, she was only vaguely aware of the conversation behind her.

"This one I'm sure will work!" said Twilight.

"That's what you said the last time," Spike replied.

"Well, it almost worked. The crack in the gemstone is not that wide."

"Better than when you shattered the first one."

"See? I've made progress and--"

"Or the one you smashed against the wall after that," Spike continued. "Or the one you launched through the window and hit that street vendor. Or the one that--"

"Point made, Spike," Twilight muttered.

Starlight was about to let the conversation again sink into the background when she saw a bright flash illuminate the room that was not followed by shattering, breaking, or hurtling. She turned around to see Twilight setting a green gemstone into a pendant.

"Success!" Twilight cried.

"Finally got it?" Starlight said.

Twilight smiled as she levitated the pendant around her neck. "The spell on this gemstone should alter the external reading of my morphic resonance sufficiently to key that magical lock in the shrine."

"Well, at least you're having better luck than me," said Starlight. "Things are not adding up with your initial theory about how Sunset's transformation magic should work. You said the magic would build up as the virus replicated, right?"

"Yes, that's right," said Twilight as she approached. "It's the only way I can see how it would not build up to lethal levels before it had a chance to work. It would be used as fast as it was created."

"Which means the transformation would happen while the creature was ill." Starlight levitated a scroll into view. "I did a rough calculation on how much magic would be needed to accomplish the transformation."

Twilight's eyes widened. "That's more than I thought would be needed."

"Now, I'm no biologist," said Starlight. "But I was able to glean enough information about how viruses work to determine how much energy each individual virus could contain. The amount of virus needed would be excessive."

"Which risks killing the creature in an entirely new way if the immune system overreacts," said Twilight.

"Or it would have to extend the length of the illness, which also causes problems," said Starlight. "And I'm still dealing with how permanent is permanent. I sent off a letter to Princess Celestia earlier asking for more details on this pegasus that used to be a griffon. Apparently, the Princess tried to change her back and never could."

"Well, that's not surprising." said Twilight. "Celestia is powerful, but she's not all-powerful."

"You don't understand the depth of the failure here. She had her top mages look into this. They thought if they nudged the resonance a bit at a time, they could accomplish the transition back."

"Oh, yes, that would work!" Twilight said. "It would take months, but--"

"Except it didn't work. The resonance didn't budge. The Princess finally gave up and included the pegasus in her info-wipe spell. The pegasus would be convinced she was like that from birth and lost her parents when she was really young." Starlight put her notes down. "I'll repeat what I said before: I want to talk to this pegasus, but the Princess has been coy in giving me any specifics on who she is."

"All right, let me talk to her," said Twilight. "But later. I want to try to get at whatever may be hidden in that shrine."





Moon Dancer hummed to herself, her horn glowing as she set about pouring the tea and arranging some small cakes on the serving tray. She still lived in the same tiny home Twilight had found her in, though since then she had renovated it. She could have moved to a larger place, but the house still held some fond memories despite the social recluse she had once been. Also, a small place allowed her to hear the conversation among her friends from anywhere in the house, so she didn't feel like she was missing anything.

"I'm telling you, there's been something going on in Canterlot this past week," said Lemon Hearts.

"Well, in the absence of any new monster descending upon us, I'd have to disagree," said Minuette.

"Then why has Twilight been in Canterlot all this time?"

"Hmph, you think she could take a minute out of her schedule to come visit us," said Twinkleshine.

Moon Dancer arrived with the serving tray levitated before her. "Now, girls, don't be so hard on Twilight," she said as she placed the tray on the table before her guests. "If something is going on, I'm sure it's very important."

Lemon Hearts gasped. "Then it could be a new monster?!"

Minuette snorted. "Lemon, you worry too much."

"I admit, I'm curious myself," said Moon Dancer as she settled back in her seat. "Princess Cadance is here as well. It must be an unscheduled visit if she's not here with Flurry Heart."

"Then Lemon Hearts is right!" Minuette said in mock horror, flailing her fore-legs. "We're doomed. We're dooooomed!"

"Stop that," Lemon Hearts said.

Twinkleshine giggled.

Moon Dancer smiled. "All right, I think we've milked that one for all it's--"

She nearly jumped when a hoof pounded on her door. "Moon Dancer!" came a muffled female voice through the door. "I need to talk to you now!"

"Auntie Star?" Moon Dancer murmured as she hopped off the sofa. "One moment, girls."

She headed for the door and opened it, revealing a unicorn mare with a milky white coat and a light blue mane and tail, and a cutie mark consisting of a single musical note surrounded by several stars. "Moon Dancer, you need to help me!" said Star Singer.

"Um, sure. Is something wrong?"

"You need to find a way to get me to see Princess Celestia."

"Er, what??"

"Use your friendship with Princess Twilight if you have to," said Star, her eyes wide and shimmering. "I know she's in Canterlot. Maybe this is twenty years too late, but--"

"Whoa, slow down!" said Moon Dancer as her concerned friends gathered behind her. "What's this all about, Auntie?"

Star Singer sighed and lowered her gaze. "It will take too long to explain. It involves a unicorn I didn't tell you about because I somehow forgot all about her despite us being best friends for a while in college and--"

"Auntie, you're not making any sense," Moon Dancer said in a concerned voice. "You said you didn't have any real friends during that time."

"It's just as confusing to me as well!" Star Singer cried. "I don't know how I simply forgot--"

Moon Dancer's pupils suddenly shrank as she looked past her aunt, and her friends gasped just before a deep voice said, "Miss Singer?"

Star Singer spun around, her eyes widening as they fell on the two Royal Guards who had landed behind her. "Y-yes?" Star Singer said in a tiny voice.

"We tried to reach you at your residence, but you teleported away before we could talk to you," said one of the guards.

"Princess Celestia has summoned you into her presence at your earliest convenience," said the other.

Star's mouth fell open. "Then ... she knows why I only now remembered all this?"

"Remembered what?" Moon Dancer said in a concerned voice. "Auntie Star, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure anymore," said Star Singer. "I'll have to tell you later once I have it sorted out. I'll go see the Princess now."

As Star Singer headed away with the guards, Lemon Hearts murmured to the others, "I told you something was going on."





Twilight glanced around her as she slowly stepped into the shrine. "Even having already seen this place, it still inspires a sense of awe."

"I still say it's creepy," Starlight muttered.

"But look how elaborate this is, Starlight. If all she had wanted to do was set up a place to pray to Celestia, she could have done that with a simple statuette and a prayer mat in her bedroom." She paused as the gem on her pendant started to glow. "And I think this is working! I can feel this impinging on my resonance more strongly. This was definitely meant to attract my attention."

"Said the fly before it flew into the spider's web," Starlight said.

"I'm taking precautions," said Twilight. "The pendant has several strong protection spells imbued within it. Even in the outside chance that Aunt Sunset intended ill will, she would have devised them against a young unicorn of still modest skill, not an experienced alicorn."

Spike suddenly stopped and pointed. "Twilight, look!"

Twilight raised her gaze. The eyes of the Celestia statue had started to glow. A few moments later, they blazed a bright spotlight upon the floor. Magic sparkled and swirled within the cone of light.

"I don't like this," Starlight murmured.

"It's an identification spell," said Twilight.

"Uh, why would that be needed if it's already tied to your resonance?"

"Likely to prevent somepony from faking their resonance."

"You mean like we're trying to do?" said Spike.

"But I'm not faking it!" Twilight said. "I mean, not really. I'm still me!"

"I know that, and you know that," said Starlight. "But does Princess Fakelestia here know that?"

"Only one way to find out."

Twilight trotted forward. The air rippled as she passed into the cone of light. The light suddenly became red, and Celestia's voice boomed forth, "WHO ART THEE?"

"I am Twilight Sparkle," Twilight declared in a loud, confident voice.

"WE WILL REPEAT THE QUESTION NO FURTHER AFTER THIS. WHO ART THEE?"

Twilight swallowed. "I have told you. I am Twilight Sparkle. I have since become an--"

The eyes erupted into two fiery beams that converged in an instant upon Twilight.

Spike gasped and bolted for his friend, but Starlight grabbed him in her magic. "Twilight!! Starlight, let me go!"

"Everypony, don't panic!" Twilight cried. Her form was bathed in ethereal flames licking at her skin, fur, and hair but doing no obvious harm. "The 'fire' is just for show. It's a forced teleportation spell. I'm resisting it."

"WE SHALL BANISH THE PRETENDER," thundered Celestia's voice.

Starlight's pupils shrank. "I definitely didn't like the sound of that."

"I am no pretender!" Twilight bellowed. "My resonance is just off because I'm an alicorn!"

"WE SHALL BANISH THE PRETENDER," repeated the voice.

"Maybe you should stop, Twilight!" Spike cried.

"No, there's got to be some way around this," said Twilight.

The eyes burned with renewed vigor as they blasted down another almost binding beam of magic.

"Okay, tell me again how this isn't a trap?" Starlight said. "You have to get out of there!"

"I'm managing," said Twilight in a strained voice. "I'm ... I'm going to take off the pendant."

"Are you nuts?! You just said all your protection spells are in there!"

"I have to! I didn't anticipate this. Maybe if it sees the real me, it will realize why my resonance is off."

"You can't be sure of that."

"It's all I can think to do right now. If I try to fight back, I may destroy whatever this is protecting." Twilight's horn glowed, and she looked up to the statue. "Very well, I will show you who I really am!"

The beams suddenly ceased, but the eyes and the cone of light remained bright red. Twilight took a deep breath and undid the latch on the chain of the pendant. It immediately clattered to the floor.

In the ensuing pause, the only sound was Twilight's labored breath. Finally, the eyes of the statue returned to soft white, and a different, softer voice issued forth. "You actually made it, Twily. I wish I could be there to tell you how proud I am of you."

Twilight's breath caught. Her eyes glistened. "A-aunt Sunset??"

The light went out. A sudden rumbling shook the floor as the statue retreated, sliding back on its dais to reveal a hollow space beneath.

"That ... that was her voice," Twilight murmured.

"It was a recording, Twilight," said Starlight.

Twilight nodded quickly. "I know. I was wrong. She did anticipate me becoming an alicorn. How did ...?" She trailed off and took a deep breath. "Sorry. Let's see what we found."

Starlight peered inside and levitated out a bundle of scrolls tied together with a ribbon bearing Sunset's cutie mark. "This is all that's down there."

Twilight took it from her and undid the bow with her magic. She started to unroll a scroll. "It's a drawing of ... Nightmare Moon??"

Starlight and Spike gathered close. "And a huge mess of equations under it," said Starlight. She grabbed a second one and unrolled it. "This is Tirek. Um, I think. He doesn't look quite as impressive as he did when he rampaged through Equestria."

Twilight turned her head. "That was his first appearance, when he arrived with his brother Scorpan. He was defeated before he could get far."

"And there's more formulas under his picture," said Spike.

Twilight unrolled another. "And here's a picture of Sombra, and yet more equations."

"Whoa," Starlight said in a hushed voice as she gazed at another scroll, her pupils shrinking slightly. She turned it towards Twilight.

"Princess Celestia?!" Twilight cried. "And the most extensive formulas yet!"

Spike grabbed a scroll and unrolled it. He chuckled. "Well, look who we have here."

Twilight looked at the scroll. "It's Discord when he was in his stone prison."

Starlight peered and smirked. "Look at all the cross-outs and question marks. Even Sunset couldn't figure him out."

A new voice suddenly joined them from over Twilight's shoulder. "Even worse, Baconbutt never could get my good side in that drawing."

"Gah!!" Starlight cried, whirling around. "Don't do that!"

A hovering Discord smirked. "You could use more surprises in your life, dear Glimglam."

"And don't call me that. I hate that nickname. And what the hay is bacon anyway?"

Discord rolled onto his back and stretched out as if lounging. "Among meat-eaters, I understand it's considered the most perfect food in existence."

Twilight stepped up to him. "Discord, do you know anything about this?"

"Oh, maybe." He lazily snapped his talons. A movie projector materialized in the center of the room. It cast a black-and-white moving image in mid-air of a unicorn pony circling about a stone-encased Discord, jotting down notes, accompanied by tinny music. "She seemed so utterly fascinated with me for some reason. Other than my dashingly handsome looks, of course."

Twilight tilted her head as she saw the flickering image of Sunset light her horn. "What exactly was she doing?"

"Scanning me," said Discord. "It rather tickled. I was quite put out. I mean, come on, at least buy my dinner first before going to the kinky stuff."

"I'm ... just not going to entertain that line of thought further," said Starlight, closing her eyes. "Going to my happy place now."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Actively scanning you? Didn't she know that was dangerous?"

"All too well, Sparklebutt," said Discord. Suddenly the scene changed. The stone prison shattered, and Discord leapt off the dais. He had a long mustache and a black top-hat and cape, and he let out a maniacal laugh (indicated by the placard that briefly replaced the scene with "MWAHAHAHA!" written upon it) before twirling said mustache in his talons. "I had hoped it would be my big comeback, but noooo." The scene faded back to the original setting. Sunset turned and trotted away as tears trickled from the eyes of the still-imprisoned Discord. A heart materialized over his head and broke in two. "Baconbutt knew exactly how much magic to apply to avoid me breaking free." He clicked his tongue. "That hussy was such a tease."

"This conversation is taking on a very disturbing tone, even for you," said Starlight.

"You need to get out more, Glimglam. Anyway, it was for the best. She just wasn't my type."

"Wait," Twilight said as she stared down at the Discord scroll. "I don't think this was meant to be an analysis of Discord himself."

Discord raised an eyebrow, which detached itself and floated above his head.

"I'm seeing a pattern of Harmony magic in these formulas. I think she was trying to learn something about the effects of the Elements of Harmony."

Discord gasped dramatically and sat up straight, though his eyebrow remained suspended in space. He grabbed it in his paw and stuck it back on. "Say it isn't so, Twilight! Say she wasn't just playing me for the romantic fool that I am!"

"Well, the 'fool' part is right," Starlight muttered.

"Um, Twilight?" Spike said, holding up a scroll. "I think you'll want to see this."

Twilight set aside the Discord scroll and took the one Spike held. She unrolled it and gasped. "This is me!"

Starlight peered over Twilight's shoulder. A drawing at the top depicted a very young mark-less unicorn Twilight. Beneath it were two sets of equations separated by a horizontal line.

Discord slithered around them for a look himself. He smirked and snapped his talons. The picture of Twilight gained a set of huge glasses with the center taped and a beanie with a propeller on her head.

"Discord, stop it!" Twilight said.

Discord spread his arms. "What? You always were a nerd. I'm just helping you look the part."

"I don't want these documents altered."

Discord sighed. "Fine." He waved a paw. The glasses and beanie disappeared from the drawing and reappeared on the real Twilight.

"Very funny," Twilight muttered as she levitated the offending articles from her person. "I don't want to risk any damage to them, as I think I just figured out what these are. They're power equations."

"Come again?" said Starlight.

"They're describing aspects of thaumic energy flow. They can be used to express estimations of raw magical power. It's like she was trying to determine what the magical potential was of all these ponies and creatures." She peered down at the document depicting herself. "The formulas above the line are a rough estimate of my power at that age, and below the line I believe is my estimated potential." She pointed with a fore-hoof. "See? She branched out in several lines depending on what magical disciplines I might follow. She even estimated my potential chances for becoming an alicorn!"

Starlight stared at the scroll. "Now that I know what I'm looking at, I can sorta see it, but I still understand only a fraction of this."

"So do I, but we can take what we do know and extrapolate the rest," said Twilight in a voice of rising excitement.

"So what does that buy us?"

"Look at some of these scrolls, Starlight. Some depict beings of immense power, at levels very similar to the high energy involved in Aunt Sunset's ultra-dense plasma research. If I can solve for the unknown data on these documents, I can more easily unravel the other research. This is the primer I was looking for! With this, we can understand and fully control the portal!"

Discord snapped his talons, and the projector disappeared. "Well, my work here is done now that Sparklebutt is in full nerd mode and Glimglam is ... well, whatever it is she does. Stand around and snark a lot, I guess. Toodles!"

He vanished in a flash of light.

"Tell me again why anypony wanted to let him out of his prison?" Starlight muttered.

Twilight smiled. "He did give us some important information, but, yes, he can be annoying sometimes."

"I heard that!" came Discord's distant, echoy voice.





Celestia had hoped to coordinate this better. She had wanted the guards to show up at Star Singer's residence at the precise moment that Celestia released her from the spell. She had not anticipated how excitable the mare would be. Now Star Singer stood before her in the throne room, eyes averted and tail tucked between her back legs. The silence stretched out, but before it reached the breaking point for Celestia, Star Singer finally spoke. "I feel this is all my fault."

Celestia left her throne. "There is a lot of blame to be shared, Star Singer," she said in a heavy voice. "But if you can tell me anything that will be useful in resolving this crisis, I would most appreciate it."

Star Singer forced her gaze up to the diarch. "What do you already know, Princess?"

"We know that Sunset crafted a permanent transformation spell," said Celestia. "We know that she believed she had achieved portal technology. We also believe that ... she may be alive on that other world."

Star's pupils shrank. "Then I am too late??"

"Too late for what?"

"To warn you! That's why I tried to see you twenty-one year ago, but I was considered a nopony and had to wait my turn like everypony else." Star Singer frowned. "Nopony knew I was ever Sunset's friend. It was like she purposely wanted me to remain a non-entity."

Celestia paused. "Star Singer, are you saying you had worked out what she was going to do?"

"Not completely," said Star Singer. "I didn't know about the transformation spell. We did initially collaborate on transformation magic, but she claimed it had been a side project. Now a lot more makes sense about those final days. She had this little pegasus filly hanging around her who sometimes said the strangest things. Sunset claimed to have adopted her."

"So what did you know?"

"I knew about the portal," said Star Singer. "I had warned her that she shouldn't be working on such a dangerous project without your knowledge, but she convinced me she knew what she was doing. She ... she even wanted me to go with her, and now I understand why! She wanted me to help her create an all-pony world for her. She would need my knowledge of biology if she wanted to get to work right away."

"Star Singer, I am sorry to be blunt, but I must," said Celestia in a solemn voice. "We believe Sunset faked her death, and that you had assisted her in that effort."

"She ... what?!" Star Singer cried. "I ... I-I hadn't even heard Sunset had died when I went to see you! Princess, I didn't knowingly help her, you have to believe me! Sunset was always hanging around me when I did my lab work. She said she was fascinated by it."

"If what you say is true, then we must face an uncomfortable truth."

Star's eyes glistened. "She was playing me for a fool. She was making me do all her dirty work, and I didn't see it because I was too happy to have somepony I thought was a friend." She stomped a hoof. "And to think my main concern over warning you was her welfare! I didn't want to see her get hurt! She was needed far too badly in this world to go risk herself like that!"

Celestia tilted her head. "Needed badly in this world?"

Star Singer paused and averted her eyes. "Princess, what do you know about what she believed?"

"It has been the single most heart-wrenching point of contention among Sunset's family," said Celestia. "It appears Sunset believed ponies were superior to other species, and thus all sapients should be like them or ruled by them."

Star Singer gave Celestia a stricken look before lowering her gaze to the floor. "Then either she thought it was safer to let everypony believe that, or she had completely misinterpreted what I had told her."

Celestia cast a curious gaze at her subject. "What you told her?"

Star Singer raised her head. "Yes, Princess. That's what I meant when I said this was all my fault. I was responsible for what Sunset claimed she believed."





The deeper Starlight immersed herself in the transformation research, the more the mystery itself had deepened. She levitated a scroll containing her notes as she turned to Twilight. "Here's another puzzle. Even if somehow she prevented an overreaction from the immune system, wouldn't the so-called 'disease' be very obvious?"

Twilight stood before the portal, taking notes with a quill and paper as she levitated a dozen other scrolls around her. "Hmm? What do you mean?" she asked without taking her eyes from her work.

Starlight trotted up to her. "Griffons getting sick and turning into ponies at the same time would be rather hard to ignore. Wouldn't there be plenty of time to isolate those affected and stop it from spreading? It's been done in the past in Equestria with disease outbreaks. It's generally pretty effective."

Twilight stopped and turned her head. "That's a good point. Aunt Sunset wouldn't overlook such an obvious problem."

Starlight shivered. "I have to be honest, Twilight. I'm starting to sympathize with the Princess' need to cover this up. Using disease as a weapon is downright terrifying."

Spike glanced at the portal and recalled the discussion about explosions. "How is anything about this not terrifying?"

"I feel that knowledge in itself is not dangerous," said Twilight. "It all depends on how it's utilized."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm hard-pressed to think of a single benign use for this sort of thing." Starlight glanced at the portal. "So, getting anywhere?"

"Yes, actually. I'm focusing on high-level control of the portal without necessarily understanding the underlying principles. Sort of how an untrained unicorn can cast a spell from a scroll without necessarily knowing how the underlying magic works."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Uh, that's generally what they tell you not to do."

Spike snickered. "They told Twilight not to do that after she accidentally turned the classroom purple once."

"We don't have the luxury of taking every precaution possible," said Twilight. "I need to get this portal open."

"What about where we'd wind up? You were concerned about the anchor."

"First I need to see if there is an anchor in place," said Twilight. "And then I need to bypass it if so. Ideally, I want to aim the portal just outside a populated area, preferably one most severely affected by the transformation spell."

"Wouldn't we want to stay away from an area like that?" asked Starlight. "Panic and mayhem and all that."

"Yes, but consider where we might blend in more easily," said Twilight. "If there are natives that have been fully transformed into ponies, we could slip in unnoticed."

"Well, maybe I can." Starlight pointed a hoof at one of Twilight's wings. "But I doubt that a transformation spell can create alicorns."

"I know, I'll have to craft an illusion spell to hide my wings."

"And cutie marks," said Starlight. "If I'm right about how Sunset fell short in her research, we're going to be among blank-flanks."

"That still seems like a strange oversight to me," said Twilight. "Gaining a cutie mark is one of the things that makes a pony a pony. Why ignore such a crucial aspect?"

"Because cutie mark magic is hard," said Starlight. "It took me a long time to craft that unmarking spell, and even then, it still didn't work as originally intended. I knew exactly how ridiculously easy it was to return the cutie marks to their owners. Why do you think I kept them in sealed containers? I never could completely sever the connection between mark and pony."

"We'll have to revisit that later." Twilight finished jotting down a final equation and levitated the other papers to the table. "We're ready for a test."

Starlight put away her notes. "All right, how are we playing with fire today?"

"We're going to open the portal enough to allow energy through from the other world but not matter," said Twilight. "This will tell me if the portal is anchored and will give me a better idea what that world is like."

"Isn't that going to open a door on the other side?"

"Not if we're careful enough," said Twilight. "And if I understand the portal mechanics enough. And if the energy remains steady."

"That's a lot of 'ifs,'" said Starlight. "But, hey, what's the worst that could happen?"

"A complete collapse of the wormhole and subsequent catastrophic destabilization of--" Twilight began.

"Uh, that was a rhetorical question, Twilight."

"Oh."

Spike jammed a helmet on his head. "Anyone wants me, I'll be under the table."





Celestia cast her gaze upon Star Singer for a long moment. "Perhaps you should explain further," she said in a neutral voice.

"In order to do that, Princess, I have to explain to you what my cutie mark means," said Star Singer. "It's what started this whole mess in the first place."

Celestia smiled. "I was curious about it. I'm always interested in the stories behind my beloved ponies' cutie marks."

"Many ponies make the assumption it means I'm a singer. I am, but not in the way others think. I sing to the stars, and they answer."

Celestia's eyes widened. "You are a Seer! There has not been one of those for many centuries! Why have I not heard of you?"

"Because that's not quite right, Princess," said Star Singer. "And it's because of that misinterpretation that I kept a low profile. I don't see the future in absolute terms, I only see patterns and possibilities."

"When did you know you had this power?"

"When I first stumbled on the Mare in the Moon legend," said Star Singer. "I had already taken to composing songs to the heavens at night, not quite knowing why. All I knew is that they sounded lovely, and I heard singing in return that I could almost understand. Then when I read 'the stars will aid in her escape' from the legend, something just ... clicked. I sung to the stars that night, and they gave me a terrifying answer: that Nightmare Moon was very, very real. I got my cutie mark right then."

"Dear heavens," Celestia said in a hushed voice.

"It didn't stop there," said Star Singer. "I kept learning more of what I never wanted to know. Not just Nightmare Moon, but Discord, Chrysalis, Sombra, Tirek, Starlight Glimmer." She shivered. "And other beings who don't have a name yet, still looming in the murky darkness of the future."

Celestia approached her. "I am struck by how clear your visions were despite your claim you are not a Seer."

Star Singer frowned. "That's just it, Princess. They weren't clear. I didn't get exact dates, save for Nightmare Moon as that was already part of the legend. All I knew was that very dark times were in store for Equestria, and they didn't happen. Every last one of those threats were defeated. Two were reformed. I had absolutely no idea the Elements of Harmony would find new bearers, or that they even still existed."

"You knew about that as well?" said Celestia.

"I was the one who told Sunset about it!" Star Singer declared. "You see why this hurts so much? We were close friends, and she made it seem like I was just her lackey or minion!"

Celestia looked thoughtful. "What exactly did you tell Sunset that gave her the beliefs she espoused?"

"Ever since I got those visions, I obsessed over the fate of Equestria. Would ponykind have enough inherent power to defeat these abominations? Are you powerful enough? We couldn't get any help from other species, as they just don't have the right magic to deal with these sorts of threats. They'd probably be looking for us to protect them."

"And you shared your concerns with Sunset," said Celestia.

"Yes, and she was the first pony to take me seriously. She told me one day she had broached the subject of the Elements of Harmony with you, but you brushed her off."

"The reasons why are rather complicated, Star Singer," said Celestia.

"I imagine they are, but it doesn't matter," said Star Singer. "Sunset took it to mean that you were worried and didn't want to worry her. In her mind, that just confirmed my worst fears: that Equestria was headed for a terrible dark age unless something was done to stop it."

"If only I had known ..." Celestia said in a hushed voice.

"Princess, please, don't blame yourself," said Star Singer. "Sunset was very driven and headstrong. She wanted to find all the answers herself. I was the one who suggested that having more ponies would inherently give Equestria more power. More ponies, more pony magic. It was never that ponies were better than other species, it was that pony magic was better than other forms of magic. In a strictly empirical sense, it's a true statement."

"While this is all very enlightening, Star Singer," said Celestia. "There is a burning question I have: do you know why Sunset chose to worship me as a goddess?"

"Her worship of you was a magical experiment."

Celestia blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"She had read Starswirl's theories that the prayer that the old pony tribes offered to their gods worked because they were tapping into their inherent pony magic," said Star Singer. "Sunset thought he was wrong. When we started talking about the fate of Equestria, we diverged. I focused solely on ponykind. She focused on you. She wanted to know, what gave an alicorn her power? Why did she have magical ability an order of magnitude greater than the most powerful unicorn mage? She finally theorized that ponykind itself gives you your power."

Celestia was quiet for a long moment. "I always believed that I drew strength in a metaphorical sense from the faith my ponies place in me. I did not once consider a more tangible force at work."

"Princess, did you find her shrine?"

Celestia gave a single solemn nod.

"That was effectively a magical device," said Star Singer. "Call it a 'belief concentrator' for lack of a better term. She and I both tried worshiping you there, to see if it had any effect on your inherent power. I was dubious of the results. She, on the other hoof, thought she was on to something, but she failed to expand her 'Church of Celestia.' Nopony else would buy into it." Star Singer sighed. "And now we come to why I feel this is my fault. When her idea of using worship to enhance your power failed, she turned to a new approach. My approach, expanding the amount of pony magic available."

"And you didn't connect this with her transformation research?" said Celestia.

"No, because she tricked me," said Star Singer with a deep frown. "I only realize that now. The reason she claimed for turning me to biology was to research ways to increase pony fertility. She was supposedly taking the long view into solving the problem. The whole transformation research was already in the past and was a complete dead end, or so I had thought."

"And yet, Star Singer, one thing is still not clear," said Celestia. "How did her beliefs morph from something supposedly practical into something so obviously bigoted?"

Star Singer looked thoughtful for a long moment. "That I'm not sure of, but I might be able to guess. Sunset became far, far more obsessed than I ever had at the fate of Equestria. Perhaps she simply didn't want to risk those dark forces knowing what she was doing. This is why I'm at a total loss as to why she would want to abandon Equestria in the first place by going to another world!"

"We believe she intended to use her transformation spell on that other world's natives," said Celestia. "Perhaps she believed I had betrayed her so badly that she wanted her own land to rule as she saw fit."

Star Singer started shaking her head halfway through Celestia's last statement. "No, never! That wasn't like Sunset at all. She never wanted power just for the sake of having it. Everything she did was for you and Equestria. Never for herself."

Celestia sighed. "We may have to find out the hard way when we eventually confront her."

Star Singer gave her a quizzical look. "Confront her? You said she's in the other world."

"Yes, but her portal still exists."

Star's eyes widened.

"Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer are working together to open it again."

"Stop them!" Star Singer screamed.

Celestia backed up a step in shock. "What??"

"If Sunset left the portal intact, she had every intention of returning. If they try to open the portal, they'll alert her at once that we know she's alive."

"But they have to open the portal in order to stop her!" said Celestia.

"I know! I don't have time to explain, but I might be able to help. Remember, she wanted me to go with her originally."

Celestia rushed forward and stood by Star Singer's side. "We'll go over together right now!" Her horn flashed, and both ponies vanished.





Twilight and Starlight stood before a pillar apiece. The device hummed, and its surface rippled as their horns glowed, magic flickering and sparking among the crystals.

"Raise power by forty thaums," said Twilight as she levitated the scroll with her derived portal equations upon it.

Starlight's horn brightened. Power arced across the portal entrance. "Keep the confinement field steady!"

"I'm trying!" said Twilight as she concentrated. The arcing stopped. "If we're ever going to do this more smoothly, we need proper isolation between the ley lines of the field and the portal conduit."

"Well, for now, keep your ley lines off my lawn," Starlight muttered.

Twilight turned to the portal. Her reflection wavered as the rippling became constant, like water dripping into the center of a clear pond. "All right, we're doing it! The wormhole is about to open up."

"Whoa," Starlight murmured. "It's like my magic just suddenly launched itself into the distance."

"Yes, that's supposed to happen!" said Twilight excitedly. "Your magic just reached another world."

"And here I hadn't prepared a speech for this occasion."

Twilight grinned. "In either case, don't push it. Just keep the power steady. Don't punch it all the way through."

Starlight frowned. "I'm trying, but I'm getting oscillation."

Twilight's eyes widened. "You are? You shouldn't be!" She glanced at the portal. The rippling had stopped, and a tunnel extruded itself into the impossible distance. "Look, it's working! You should start to feel energy from the other end."

"All I'm getting is this damned pulsing," Starlight said. Her horn glowed more brightly. "Argh, it's getting worse!"

Twilight frantically consulted her notes. "All right, I think I know what to do. Hang on!"

She turned to the left pillar, but before she could cast her magic at it, a bright flash briefly illuminated the entire room behind her. "TWILIGHT SPARKLE, STARLIGHT GLIMMER, STOP!"

"Gahh!" Starlight cried, her horn flickering out. The hum became a weakening groan. Power flickered across the entrance briefly before the portal quiesced, the surface becoming mirror-smooth once more.

"Celestia?!" Twilight cried. "What's going on?" Her eyes fell on the white and blue mare. "Who are you?"

"I'm sorry for startling you both," said Celestia as she stepped forward. "This is Star Singer. She feared you were about to alert Sunset to what you were doing."

"But I thought I understood enough about the portal to compensate for that," said Twilight.

Star Singer approached. "I wouldn't bet on that, but I might be able to help." She looked up at the portal and trotted up to it. "I don't know anything about portals, but I know Sunset very well. I can tell you what kind of tricks or traps she might have at the other end."

"I couldn't get the other end to stop oscillating," said Starlight.

Star Singer nodded. "Erratic mana feedback loop."

Twilight blinked and face-hoofed.

"Classic Sunset move," Star Singer continued. "The more power you put into it to steady it, the more you just make the situation worse."

"That means she has it purposely anchored at the other end!" said Twilight. "Yes, please, if you can help us, we'd really appreciate it."

Starlight approached. "Well, now that the gang's all here and we've met the mysterious Star Singer, how about we solve another mystery? Like the griffon-turned-pegasus? Because I really want to talk to her."

Celestia gave her a distressed look.

"I don't know the filly's name," said Star Singer. "But I sure do remember what she looked like. She had a gray coat, and a yellow mane and tail. What I remember most were her eyes. She had a condition where one eye drifted, so she had trouble focusing. It made her a bit clumsy."

Twilight gasped.

"Knowing what I know now, I'm guessing it was a small mistake in the transformation."

"Oh, no way," said Spike as he emerged from under the table. "No way."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying she's Derpy? The Ponyville mailpony?"

"Yes," said Celestia in a soft voice. "When I could not change her back, I included her in the mind wipe spell. She believes she was a pegasus from birth and lost her parents at a very early age. I was fortunate enough to find a loving home for her."

Starlight rubbed a hoof through her mane and muttered, "If this wasn't getting complicated enough."

> Chapter 25 - Quarantine
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So how are you holding up?" Sadie asked as she sat next to Laura on the sofa.

"Better than I thought I would," said Laura. "I'm worried about what will happen next, but I'm not terrified about it."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"I want to think so, but it's still weird. I'm less human every day. Shouldn't I be freaking out over this?"

"Have you talked to your mother about how you feel?" Sadie asked.

"I try to, but she's only interested in 'fixing' me," said Laura. "I know why she feels that way, and I guess I feel that way, too. I want things to go back to normal, but ..."

"But you want to be acknowledged for who you are now," said Sadie.

"Something like that. I don't even understand it myself. I think that's why I wanted to listen to that lady yesterday. I wanted to understand." She glanced at Sadie. "Do you have family in town?"

Sadie shook her head, her eyes subdued. "All my family is very far away right now. You could say we drifted apart. I haven't talked to them for a long time."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"I miss them terribly, but I feel I'm right where I need to be at this point in my life."

"Sunny, does anyone understand?" said Laura. "I've been reading news reports all morning, and no one can say anything about it. Why is this happening? Is it even a disease?"

Before Sadie could respond, footsteps rushed down the stairs. "Laura, have you seen--" Bob stopped short as he caught sight of their guest. "Oh, um ..."

"Bob, this is Sunny," said Laura. "The woman I told you about."

Sadie smiled. "Hello, Bob."

"Hi," said Bob in a distracted voice. "Laura, where's Mom? I really have to talk to her."

"She's in the kitchen," said Laura.

"Thanks. Nice meeting you," Bob said before rushing off.

Sadie watched him go. "Does he not have this?"

"He was the last to get the flu," said Laura. "Well, that is, if it's related to the flu. The news reports were unclear about that as well."

"But obviously someone thinks they're related," said Sadie.

"That's what our doctor said he thought it might be."

"Your doctor?"

Laura nodded. "Doctor Kevin Conner."

Sadie smiled. "Really, now? I've heard of him. Hard not to considering he seems to be the only one without this strange condition. One wonders how he managed it. But to go back to your question, Laura, all I can say is that I've always believed that things happen for a reason. I don't believe in fate or coincidence."

Laura's eyes widened. "You don't think what that woman said was right? That this is some sort of evolutionary thing?"

"In my view, that's about as good an explanation as any," said Sadie. "Eh, maybe I wouldn't have put it in quite the terms she did, but she did have one good point: if this is supposed to be a disease, why don't we feel sick?"

"Yes, that's what I thought." Laura's ears started to swivel. "That's what's been so weird about this, and why ... um ..."

Laura trailed off when she heard her mother's agitated voice in the kitchen: "Not if I have anything to say about this!" Sarah burst into the living room. "Sorry, Sunny, I wanted to stop and talk, but something's come up."

"No trouble at all," said Sadie. "Should I leave and come back another time?"

"That might not be a bad idea."

"But Mom--" Laura started to protest.

Sadie stood. "It's all right. May I ... exchange phone numbers with Laura?"

Sadie's moment of distraction had been brief, barely long enough to register with Sarah in her agitated emotional state.

"Certainly," said Sarah as Bob emerged from the kitchen. "It was nice to meet you."

Sadie smiled. "Same here."

Sarah raced up the stairs as Bob wandered over.

"What happened that has Mom so upset?" Laura asked.

"My mother happened," said Bob in a somber voice. "She's on her way to try to take me out of here."

Laura covered her eyes with her hand. "If we don't have enough to deal with."





Jenny sighed, supporting her head with her hand as she turned from her random websurfing and cast a morose look at her Skype window. Her Aunt Eileen's status still remained offline. She had tried sending several messages earlier in hopes her aunt was hiding her online presence, but none had received a reply.

Something flickered at the edge of her vision as she started to turn her head away. A different contact had come online, and she stared in surprise. "James??"

A message appeared in her window: You there?

Jenny turned more fully towards her monitor. Yes, I'm here. Where else would I be while I'm being forced to stay home like a damn prisoner?

How are you doing? James typed.

Jenny hesitated before typing back: I have purple eyes.

I have the ears. Mom almost fainted.

Jenny ran a hand through her wavy pink hair. What should she say? That her sister had fur? That she could no longer stomach the idea of eating meat? That her mother had a full tail?

That she was scared?

A soft knock at the door startled her. "Jenny, I'd like to talk to you for a bit," came Harold's voice.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "What did I do wrong now?"

"You're not in trouble, but I do need to talk to you about something important."

She wanted to protest that she was talking to James, but the conversation was going nowhere fast. She quickly typed out a message: BBL, Dad wants to talk to me about something. She didn't wait for the reply before spinning around in her chair. "Fine, come in."

Harold opened the door enough to let himself slip inside before closing it behind him.

"What is it?" Jenny said in a less terse voice.

Harold started to sit down, winced, then remained standing. "Laura told me that you don't remember what happened during the big storm when you were five."

Jenny uttered an exasperated sigh. "What big storm?! She's complaining to you now about this? Why can't she leave it alone?"

"I know you were very young, so you probably don't remember the details--"

"Dad, there's no details to remember."

"But your mother and I remember it very clearly," said Harold. "It happened, Jenny."

Jenny's eyes darted to the side. "Fine, it happened. Satisfied?"

Harold gave her a concerned look. "I'm just trying to understand what happened. I thought you had told us afterward that you weren't scared."

Jenny shuddered slightly. "Well, there you go. That's why I don't remember. It was a non-event."

"But that's not what Laura said."

"Maybe she's the one who doesn't remember it clearly, you ever think of that?"

"Honey, she said you were very scared."

Jenny swallowed and said nothing.

"Maybe you were so scared, you just blocked--"

"I wasn't scared!" Jenny cried. "I don't get that scared, okay? Name one time since I was little that I ever got really scared. Just one."

Harold looked thoughtful. "I can't recall one off the top of my head."

"See? Laura's wrong. I'm not scared. I mean, I don't get scared."

Before Harold could reply, a loud knock sounded at the door. "Harry, I need to talk to you!" came Sarah's urgent voice. As soon as Harold opened the door, Sarah said, "Bob just told me that Eileen is headed into town right now."

Jenny smiled. "Aunt Eileen is coming?"

"She's intending to take Bob out of here."

Jenny's smile faded.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Harold muttered.

"We can't let her do that," Sarah declared. "I don't care what legal right she has."

"How the hell can she anyway? The whole damn town is going to be quarantined."

"I heard on the news that they're behind schedule. If she does get here, we have to find a way to stall her from leaving."

Harold frowned. "And if she gets stuck in town, where's she going to stay?"

Sarah folded her arms. "As much as I don't care for her, she's still family. She'd have to stay here."

"Right, that's just what we need is having you two at each other's throats for the duration," Harold muttered. "All right, one step at a time. This may be a non-problem. She probably won't even make it considering how badly the highways are backed up. Let's talk about this somewhere else. Jenny, we'll have to talk more on this later."

Jenny said nothing as her parents left. Only after they had closed the door behind them did she mutter, "You can wait until the end of time for all I care."

She glanced at Skype. She couldn't bring herself to talk to James. He would just want to talk about her story, about the fantasies that she had used as her shield against reality.

It didn't work very well the closer fantasy got to reality.





Kevin glanced at the National Guard soldier standing on one side of the door to Fred's room. "I was told I would be allowed to see the patient."

The soldier nodded, his eyes roaming to the ID badge hanging from the pocket of Kevin's lab coat. "Yes, sir, please proceed. Don't hesitate to call me if he becomes violent."

"I think it would be counterproductive to shoot him," Kevin said in a slightly acid voice.

"I've been armed with a taser and tranquilizer, sir."

Kevin should have guessed that, but he supposed the stress was starting to get to him. "Very well," he murmured before allowing himself inside.

After stepping over the threshold, he paused with his hand still on the doorknob. He struggled to connect the small, colorful pony who lay on a bed too big for him with the tall and imposing ex-Green Beret he once knew.

Fred's legs were folded under him, his tail curled around his haunches. His head was turned to the side and lay on the bed, eyes closed. As Kevin closed the door behind him, Fred's ears rose. Fred lifted his head, huge amber eyes fixing on Kevin, a deep frown crossing his short muzzle. His expression softened somewhat after a few seconds, and his tail swished once.

"What do you want?" Fred asked in a low, curt voice.

Kevin stepped forward. "I was hoping to meet with you for a while."

Fred narrowed his eyes. "Only if you're not gonna stick me with more goddamn needles. I don't need to play another round of 'guess where the vein is.' Or watch me while I do my business. Just because I don't wear clothes anymore doesn't mean I don't want some dignity."

"All I want to do is talk."

"Fine." Fred rose to his hooves, then settled onto his haunches in a movement so smooth, he might as well have been a pony his whole life. "Talk."

"I'm sorry for whatever you've had to endure," said Kevin. "It's only so we can figure out what happened to you."

Fred held up a fore-hoof briefly. "Save it. I don't need or want your pity. I'll put up with a hell of a lot, but not that."

Kevin had not thought it pity, but he decided not to belabor the point. "I'll get right to the point, Mr. Turner. I wanted to talk to you about the little girl."

Fred's tail twitched. "What little girl?"

"The one who has been your friend for some time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Fred in a flat voice.

"Mr. Turner, I am not a psychiatrist--"

"Good, because I'm not a mental case," said Fred.

"What if I told you I believe the little girl may be real?"

Fred hesitated. His ears drew back. "I'd say you were the crazy one here."

"This is not a test of your mental health."

"It doesn't need to be tested!" Fred snapped. "Only a delusional fool believes that a little girl followed him home from overseas and didn't age a single day in the last twenty years. I am no fool!"

"No, you're not," said Kevin in a low voice. "But maybe you were played for one."

Fred's pupils shrank slightly.

"Maybe you were fooled into thinking she was a little girl."

Fred's gaze narrowed, and his teeth clenched with an alarmingly loud grinding noise. He hopped off the bed, landing with a sharp clop of his hooves, and marched up to Kevin. "You listen to me. I feel like I just woke up from a twenty year sleep, like some goddamn Rip Van Winkle. I don't have a marriage anymore, I don't have a career anymore, I don't even have the body I was born with! But now I finally have my head screwed on straight. That's all I have left. Nopony is gonna take that away from me."

"You have your daughter."

Fred's frown deepened. "I treated her like crap."

"She's been your most ardent defender all this time," said Kevin. "She wanted only what was best for you from the start. She wanted people to treat you with the respect you deserve."

Fred's eyes shimmered. "Then why the hell isn't she here?"

"She sick."

Fred's ears drew back. "With what?"

"The flu," said Kevin. "Perhaps the same one you came down with."

Fred's mouth dropped open.

"If that's the case, and there's any sort of link between it and this transformation, she and a lot of other people are going to have the same thing happen to them."

Fred closed his mouth and averted his eyes. "I don't know how this happened to me."

"But maybe that girl does."

Fred glared at Kevin. "That girl vanished into thin air right in front of me. Does that sound sane to you? I have no idea how I managed to become sane again, but I don't want to give that up. I don't want to give my hallucinations any more power than they already had for so many years."

"And what if somehow that girl was the least bit real?" Kevin said in a firm voice. "What if she was behind your transformation? What if she's behind all of this?"

"You're starting to sound like me, or the way I used to be."

"Not if there's any truth whatsoever to it."

Fred remained silent, his gaze drifting towards the floor.

"I'm not saying everything is exactly as it appeared, Mr. Turner," said Kevin. "For all we know, she could have been a full grown woman. Or a man. She used some sort of trickery on you to make you think otherwise."

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Fred said in a voice far less combative than before.

"Tell people everything you know about her," said Kevin. "Everything you remember she did and said."

"It's going to sound like the ravings of a madpony."

"But you know and I know you're not that way anymore."

Fred raised his gaze to Kevin. "Do we? What if this hold on sanity is so tenuous it can snap at any moment? I lost twenty years of my life, Doctor Conner." He reached up and poked a fore-hoof into Kevin's belly with respectable but not painful force. "Let that sink in a bit. Do you know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything and you're just going around in a daze?"

"Yes, I do," said Kevin in a solemn voice. "Ten years ago, I lost my wife to a cancer I convinced myself afterward I should have caught." He paused. "I tell myself that I'm over it, but ... I'm not so sure anymore."

Fred's gaze softened. "I'm sorry for your loss. That'd be hard on anypony."

"You need to get past this, Mr. Turner," said Kevin. "And if that doesn't convince you, maybe think of this: you have a duty to your country."

Fred's ears snapped to attention, and he shot a surprised look at Kevin. "What?"

"In a way, your country needs you. This has the potential to be a disaster. You know now it wasn't the government who was the cause of your problems."

"I know," Fred said in a low voice. He closed his eyes. "They treated me the only way they could when I started acting odd. They had to. They had no idea what had happened to me. I'm still not sure myself."

"Mr. Turner, you talked to me about getting answers," said Kevin. "You still have a right to those answers. This may be the way to find them. A sane way."

"All right," Fred said softly. "I'll tell whoever will listen what I remember."

"Thank you, Mr. Turner," said Kevin.

"Fred." He opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to Kevin. "The name's Fred."

Kevin smiled. "Kevin. I'll tell Doctor Marlowe you're willing to talk about this. I'll check on you as much as I can, and I'll let your daughter know you're okay."

Kevin turned for the door.

He heard hoofsteps follow him. "Kevin, wait."

Kevin turned back around.

"You should know," said Fred. "When you and Janet talked to me over the intercom, the girl prompted me into asking you those questions about how you remained immune to this."

Kevin stroked his beard. "Did she, now?"

"I thought she was just trying to make me distrust you again. I ... Janet was right. I had started to come around. I wanted to believe you. I wanted to trust you."

"Then I would say you were starting to become sane again long before now."

Fred let out a slow breath. "I hope so, because my head is the only thing that's sane about the world right now."





Eileen's friend Sam gripped the wheel tighter and uttered an exasperated sigh as the traffic on I-70 once more came to a complete standstill. "Eileen, we better reconsider this."

"We've already had this discussion!" Eileen snapped.

"We've been on the road for hours now and we're not even halfway there. If they really did put that town under quarantine--"

"I am not going to be separated from my son. Even if I can't get him out of that town, I can at least get him out of that house so he doesn't catch this."

Sam frowned. "And you think I want to catch this myself?"

"You can stay in the car the whole time," said Eileen. "If I really can't take him out of town, then you can just drop me off and go back to Denver." She looked at him. "You still want that date with me?"

Sam hesitated. "I'm not so sure now."

"Oh, bullshit. You wanted in my panties the moment you saw me."

"Eileen!" Sam protested.

"Well, am I right?"

Sam paused. "Maybe," he muttered in a low voice.

Eileen smiled faintly. She had almost hoped he would deny it, that maybe once she had found a guy that was interested in more than just a roll in the sack. She thought if he was willing to do this for her, maybe he was a cut above the guys she usually met. "Then keep driving."

Sam caught an odd movement up ahead. A car had pulled out onto the shoulder and was heading slowly away. A state patrol officer walked up to the next vehicle. He conversed with the occupants briefly and stepped back. That vehicle also pulled out.

Eileen leaned forward. "The fuck?"

"I think this is the end of the line," said Sam. "There's an exit a half mile ahead. I bet they're clearing the road."

"No fucking way! We can't--"

Eileen quieted as the car ahead pulled out and the officer walked over to them. He gestured for her to roll down her window. "I need you to pull out, head slowly down the shoulder, and take the next exit."

"We can't do that!" said Eileen. "We have to keep going."

"Ma'am, I-70 is closed just west of here," said the officer patiently. "You need to get off at this exit, cross over, and head back the other way."

"All right, officer, we'll--" Sam started.

"No, this is bullshit," Eileen growled. "We need to get to Lazy Pines."

The officer adjusted his hat. "Ma'am, I wouldn't advise that at all."

"My son is in that town!" Eileen cried. "And last I looked, I have a Constitutional right to travel anywhere I damn well please in this country."

The officer considered. "All I can tell you is to try to contact the officials in town about your son. But in any case, I need you off this road so we can clear it for emergency vehicles. Good day."

The officer stepped back and gestured for them to move, clearly calling an end to any further discussion. Sam pulled the car onto the shoulder and eased forward.

"We're not heading back to Denver," Eileen declared.

"You heard what he said," said Sam.

"I don't give a shit. No one is keeping me away from my son."

"Then you might have to do it yourself."

Eileen glanced up as they passed the exit sign and took out her cell phone. "All right, this is the exit for Empire. You can pick up US 40 here. It leads up and around and through Kremming. Then south on nine would head right into Lazy Pines."

"Look, I know US 40," Sam snapped. "It's a hell of a circuitous route. It goes over several tight switchbacks that take forever to traverse."

"Yes, thank you for the lesson on Colorado geography," Eileen said sourly. She looked over the map on her cell phone. "Fine, just get me as far Parshal. You can turn on County Road Three. I know a back way into the town."

"And you don't think they'd consider blocking that as well?"

Eileen put her phone away. "Yeah, but likely a lot closer to the town. Then I can plead my case with them for letting me in."

Sam tapped his fingers on the wheel as he pulled off onto the exit ramp. "Look, I don't want to see you separated from your son, okay? This is just more than I bargained for." He glanced at the traffic still stacked up on I-70, where more state patrol officers were directing people off the road. "Jesus, this is nuts. You'd think this was the friggin' apocalypse or something."

"Then take me as far as Fraser," Eileen said in exasperation. "There's a car rental place there. I'll drive myself the rest of the way."

"You got the money for that?"

"Enough," Eileen said.

"Fine, then." Sam sighed. "Goddamn, it's gonna be midnight before I get back to Denver."





Later in the afternoon, another reverse-911 call had gone out asking those with the most advanced symptoms to volunteer to come to the urgent care clinic for more testing and imaging. The place had been taken over by the Colorado Department of Health for the duration, and Kevin had pitched in to help. He was glad he had when he saw a particular name go by the main desk.

He knocked on the examination room door, and a familiar female voice replied, "You can come in."

Kevin opened the door and smiled. "Hello, Laura."

Laura smiled. "Doctor Conner! I didn't know you were here."

Kevin closed the door behind him. Laura was still wearing the simple hospital gown they had given her for the X-rays. Several inches of yellow fur peeked out from the bottom edge. "How far has it gone now?"

"It's reached my thighs," said Laura. "Also, I can't stand up straight. Did the X-rays tell you anything?"

"They're still being analyzed. We have a lot to go through."

Laura nodded. Her ears drew back slightly. "Um, I guess it's too much to hope that you know what's going on."

"Not yet, but now we have a lot of data coming in, and we have the state's top physicians here." Kevin gave her a wan smile. "To be perfectly honest, I feel like an intern around some of them."

Laura giggled weakly. "Um, I hope you didn't mind that I stopped coming to see you with the latest symptoms."

"It's perfectly fine. I imagine you didn't want to wait hours just to be told nothing can be done right now. Believe me, it hasn't been fun at my end, either."

"So I'm kind of hoping I saved you some grief."

"Are your shoulders still bothering you?" Kevin said. "One of the radiologists said you looked like you were in pain when they were setting up the X-rays."

"It's gotten worse today. There's a feeling like pressure, too."

Kevin nodded and stepped up to her. He noted no obvious swelling or redness, but the pattern of bones under the skin seemed off. "How's the rest of your family doing?"

"Both Mom and Dad have tails," said Laura. "Mom has a headache she can't get rid of. She would've come down but she's, uh, sorta dealing with some family issues."

"How are you holding up?" Kevin asked.

"Better, ever since I got a chance to talk to a friend who's about at the same point I am. Her name is Sadie Sommers."

Kevin smiled. "You mean Sunny?"

"You've heard of her?"

"She's a volunteer at the hospital. I've seen her a few times only in passing, but a lot of the staff know her. They say she's been a big help despite having this herself."

Laura smiled. "She's been a big help to me."

"Speaking of the hospital, we have beds available now," said Kevin. "If you'd feel better going there, please say so."

Laura shook her head. "Not until I'm forced to. Being stooped over is no fun, but I can still get around."

"I hate to cut this short, but I have a lot more people to see," said Kevin. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"The rumor is that you have Turner in the hospital," said Laura.

"That's no rumor. He's been taken into medical isolation."

"What ... what does he look like?" Laura asked.

Kevin couldn't lie anymore, not to the Tanners. He had come to care for them perhaps more than a physician should. He had once been told by his mentor early in his residency that a general practitioner needed a bit of detachment. That was much harder to do in a small town. "Laura, can I ask that you don't repeat this to the general public until we have a chance to issue a formal press release?"

Laura swallowed and nodded.

"He's a pony," said Kevin.

Laura's eyes widened, and her ears flattened. "You mean ... c-completely? As in four ... four hooves?"

"Yes."

Laura took a deep breath and let it go slowly.

"I should note that he has all his mental faculties, including his intelligence and memories, and he otherwise appears, well, healthy."

"But he's still a pony," said Laura in a flat voice.

"We're doing everything we can to find out why."

"I-I know." Laura's lips curled into a tremulous smile. "Thank you for being honest with me. Do you have any idea how long I have until ... until I'm like that?"

"We have only rough estimates right now, as he's the only one we know of who progressed to that state." Kevin paused. "Three days."

Laura nodded quickly.

"We're going to be setting up shelters for people who have trouble taking care of themselves."

"Good to know. Um, thank you."

Kevin's heart ached. "We have counselors available if--"

Laura shook her head. "No, I'm fine. A little shocked, but I'm handling it okay. I exchanged phone numbers with Sunny. I can talk to her."

Kevin nodded. "All right, Laura. You can get dressed and head home. If you come back here, I'll try to see you again."

Laura smiled faintly. "Thanks."





With US 40 so crowded with people forced off I-70, day had given way to dusk by the time Eileen rolled out of the car rental in Fraser. The agent had seemed like he was wary of completing the deal; Eileen's fever had surged, and she couldn't stop shivering or coughing.

As she waited at the final traffic light out of town, she lifted her long hair out from under her coat and let it spill down her back. A streak of her normally red hair was dyed purple.

Traffic moved along better as she proceeded west on US 40, thus she was puzzled when she came to the sign erected along the shoulder: ROAD CLOSED AHEAD. It wasn't until she was almost upon the turn off that she realized which road was actually closed.

Eileen thumped the steering wheel. "Shit!"

To the left, the entrance to County Road 3 was blocked off with a simple unmanned barricade surrounded by red cones on either side. The left turn lane was also blocked off with cones.

At the intersection, she yanked the wheel hard to the left, the back fishtailing, an oncoming car skidding to a halt. Eileen cut her turn too short, and the left side of the car clipped the barricade, smashing the headlight on that side.

Eileen stomped the gas pedal to get herself as far away from the scene as possible before anyone reported what she had done. Her heart hammered as she forced herself to slow down to a safer speed once the intersection was no longer visible in her rear view mirror.

She swallowed hard and tried to ignore her aching body. She peered ahead where nothing but two-lane blacktop stretched as far as she could see in the fading light and one headlight.

Eileen took out her cell phone, which she had already paired with the vehicle's wireless, and called up her Skype app. She decided against calling Bob, as she couldn't take the chance that he'd be too reluctant to go against Sarah and Harold. She smiled as she knew exactly who would be up for this.

She placed the call and set the cell phone in its receptacle on the dashboard. A few moments later, she heard a scrambling noise and a few bumps of the mike. "Aunt Eileen??" came Jenny's hushed and surprised voice.

Eileen chuckled. "Heh, I knew you'd be smart enough to keep it down." She paused as a spasm of coughing overcame her. "Sorry we're audio-only, but my phone isn't worth crap for video, and I'm driving."

"Why are you calling me?" asked Jenny. "I mean, I'll glad to hear from you, but--"

"We better not stay on long in case your parents overhear. I'm coming into town."

"Bob said you were going to try, but how can you get in?"

"I'm coming in the back way over Ute Pass Road." Eileen grinned and ran her hand through her hair. "I'm hoping they'll let me in once they see my little impromptu dye job."

"You're going to fake that you have this?" Jenny said in a mix of surprise and awe.

Eileen smiled. "I knew you could appreciate it. I'm not taking a chance that Sarah will just slam the door in my face. I'm going to come in the back door. You need to let me in."

Jenny remained silent.

"Jenny, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Jenny said in a distant voice.

"So what about it? Can I count on you to help?"

"Aunt Eileen, maybe you shouldn't do this."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "What, seriously? This will just be another part of the adventure you were telling me about before I got sick. Bob is the captured prince, and you're the Fae Queen's servant who will let the disguised hero in through a secret entrance to rescue him."

"Bob doesn't want to go," said Jenny.

"I know that's what he said, but he assumes I can't get to him. If I can, I'm sure he'll be fine with it."

"You've got no place to go. Where could you take him?"

Eileen paused to cough. "Okay, what's up? Why are you being so hesitant? You do stuff like this at the drop of a hat, like you did when you went on what's-his-name's property."

After a long, silent pause, Jenny said in a resigned voice, "All right, I'll help."

Eileen grinned. "I knew I could count on you."

"How long will it take you to get here?"

"About an hour."

"Give it two," said Jenny. "Dinner will be over, and Mom always goes into her office after that. Dad will be puttering around in the basement."

"That'll be just perfect," said Eileen, her voice quavering as a chill wracked her, and she broke down into another fit of coughing.

"You okay? You don't sound very good, and Bob said you still looked sick when you talked to him this morning."

"On the tail end of the flu, that's all. See you soon." Eileen snatched the cell phone from the cradle and terminated the call. She cranked the heat up to the max to try to hold the chills at bay.





As Eileen had hoped, authorities were more concerned with keeping people in town than keeping people out. She didn't reach a manned roadblock until she was descending from the pass. What she had not expected was that those "authorities" would be dressed in fatigues and carrying automatic weapons, breath masks covering their mouths and noses.

"HALT!" shouted one of the soldiers as Eileen grew close.

Her heart hammered, and she tried not to shiver as she pulled the car over. Two National Guard soldiers approached her. "Sir, I--"

"Get out of the car," one of the men ordered.

Eileen didn't hesitate. She climbed out of the car and started forward.

"Stay by your vehicle, ma'am!" the soldier said.

Eileen froze and retreated a step, breathing hard.

The other soldier gestured at the damage to the car. The first soldier nodded and turned his attention back to Eileen. "All roads into town are closed."

"Yes, I know that," said Eileen in a quavering voice. "My son lives in Lazy Pines."

"This town is under quarantine. You are to leave at once."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you loud and clear, ma'am," the soldier said. "There are phone numbers for family members to call. You can discuss this with them."

"But I've caught the same thing they have!" Eileen turned around. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a click, until a bright light played on her a moment later. "See? I must've gotten it when I visited my son a few days ago. Don't you want me in quarantine, too?"

The soldiers exchanged a look. "What do you think, Sarge?" said the second soldier.

"Hell, I don't know, she could've used dye or something," said the sergeant.

"Do we take the chance, though?" He glanced at Eileen as she turned to face them again. "And, frankly, she looks like she's sick."

The sergeant frowned and stepped closer to the car. "We had a report that someone ran the barricade at the north end of County Road Three and clipped it on one side." He gestured to the damage. "This looks suspiciously like the sort of damage I'd expect if this car were involved."

Eileen's mind raced. "I-I hit a rock."

"A rock," the sergeant deadpanned.

"A rock fell on the road. That happens sometimes around here."

"Ma'am, I happen to be a native Coloradan, I know perfectly well that it can happen. This just seems to be a hell of a coincidence."

"All I want to do is see my son," said Eileen in a despairing voice, her eyes glistening. She broke down into another spasm of coughing and shivered hard.

The sergeant paused, his gaze softening somewhat. "What's your full name, ma'am? And the name of your son?"

"Eileen McDermott. My son is Bob." She recited her sister's address.

"Call it in up the line," said the sergeant to the other soldier. "See what they want to do with her."

The next few minutes seemed the longest of her life before the other soldier finally returned. "Sarge, we're to keep her here until the police arrive."

Eileen's heart sank. "Y-you're arresting me?!"

"If they think you ran that barricade, ma'am, the state patrol will see to it that charges are brought against you," the soldier said. "But given your lack of criminal record and how swamped they are means they don't have the time to process you right now. You'll be under house arrest."

"What? House arrest? Whose house?"

"Your sister's."

Eileen just stared.

"You're very lucky she called the police and warned them you were coming," said the soldier. "Not to mention that the state is running the show, and if you do have this disease, they'd rather you be inside the quarantine rather than outside."

Eileen barely listened to the second part of the soldier's reply. "How did she know I was ..." She trailed off before saying in a low voice, "Jenny told them."

The sergeant stepped forward. "Then I would say this Jenny person just saved your hide, because if it were left up to me, you'd be in a hell of a lot more trouble than you already are."





Sadie entered her modest home near the center of town and descended into her basement, where upon the floor a double circle had been etched, about four feet wide. Between the two circles were strange characters in no known Earth language.

She stepped up to the edge of the circle and carefully studied lines of force that should be invisible to human beings. Sadie was not exactly what she seemed, yet she was not enough of what she should be in order to properly conduct this investigation. A bright flash of light, and a yellow and red unicorn stood where "Sadie" had stood moments before.

Sunset Shimmer lighted her horn and frowned. The ward had indeed sensed a brief and weak energy pulse down the portal. It had disappeared soon after it had started, so she had been in no great rush to investigate when she first sensed it while in the Tanner household. Indeed, all was as quiet as it should be. The endpoint remained firmly anchored, and the portal had not opened.

She took a step back, hooves clopping against the concrete floor. So what had caused it?

Her greatest fear was not Celestia discovering the deception, as no mage she could possibly send was a match for her. She doubted Celestia would come herself and risk getting cut off from her world. Instead, she feared that the dark forces that she was sure had since taken over Equestria would attempt to follow her to this world. That none ever had could mean that Equestria was still fighting back.

Or it could mean it had been wiped out, and the dark forces decided to simply take their gains and leave.

Sunset took a deep breath. She wanted an Equestria to return to, even if a broken shadow of its former self. She wanted family to return to, though she had given up hoping for that the longer she took to accomplish her goal. If only Star Singer had agreed to come, all this would have been done by now. Instead, it had taken Sunset two decades to get to the point where she could even make the attempt.

And all the while keeping a native locked up in his own fears and paranoia. She was not at all proud of that.

Another flash of light, and she was back in the guise of the partially transformed human Sadie Sommers. Soon she would have to find a way to leave this anchor unattended, as she would progress her "condition" to where she had to join the masses of townsfolk at a shelter.

That was not what really concerned her, however. She still needed to discover why one person in town was immune. For if one person was immune, there likely were others. The diagnostic spell she had cast at Doctor Conner was inconclusive.

Simply put, no human should be immune. The magical component bypassed all that. Yet she was torn as to how to proceed. Discover his secret now, or wait until matters had run their course and deal with the stragglers later?

She imagined that the human authorities would be very interested in his immunity as well. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage. If she could appropriate some samples of blood or DNA, she could run her own tests. That would tell her far more than any non-magical testing would.

She was not too worried. Things had come too far to be spoiled now. She doubted she could stop it even if she wanted to. New Equestria would rise, and ponykind would never face another threat ever again.
> Chapter 26 - Taking A Gamble
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bright and early the next day, Twilight inspected and calibrated the mana batteries that had been installed overnight. Within each, a glowing ball of magical energy drawn from the environment sat within a crystal lattice arranged in a dodecahedron. Satisfied, Twilight cast a spell which linked the batteries to the portal device. The portal gave off a faint buzz, the entry manifold a cloudy gray.

Twilight lighted her horn and infused a burst of energy into the system to jump-start it. The portal soon came up to a more healthy hum, and the mirrored surface returned. She heard hoof-falls behind her and turned to greet them. "Good morning, Star Singer."

"Good morning, Princess," said Star Singer as she approached.

"Please, just call me Twilight."

Star looked around. "Where's Starlight?"

"She's at the palace," said Twilight. "Celestia summoned Derpy to an audience, and she's going to be freed from the spell suppressing her memories so Starlight can find out more about what happened."

Star lowered her gaze. "I don't envy either Derpy or Starlight."

"Celestia said she asked Derpy to bring along a good friend for emotional support." Twilight gestured to the apparatus with a wing. "I just finished hooking up the portal to a steadier energy source."

Star stepped up to it. "Sunset showed me her portal once. Her setup was more elaborate than this."

"I'm not surprised, especially since I'm having to reverse-engineer everything she did. That's why I'm really hoping you can help us."

"I'll do my best." Star Singer turned towards Twilight. "I don't know portal mechanics, but I do know Sunset very well. I know her style and her techniques."

"I have to admit, I'm very curious about something," said Twilight.

Star nodded. "I can guess. What were my fake memories like?"

"If you don't want to discuss it, I'll understand."

She waved a fore-hoof. "No, it's fine. I went from having who I thought was a good friend to being a near-recluse, the crazy mare with the insane ideas she was too afraid to discuss with anypony else. After that, I quietly obsessed over it for years, culminating in a near mental breakdown when Nightmare Moon appeared, then complete embarrassment when the crisis was over almost as soon as it had started. So much for my dire predictions of a dark age."

"I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," Twilight said in a soft voice.

"I feel worse for my niece, Moon Dancer. I think she picked up her bookish recluse persona from me."

Twilight averted her eyes for a moment. "Um, well, it was more complicated than that, I think."

Star smiled. "I'm just happy you helped her in the end."

"So I take it you didn't consider that the Elements of Harmony were real?"

"In my manufactured reality, I never discovered them," said Star Singer. "In my real memories, Sunset investigated but dismissed them as old relics that weren't relevant anymore."

"That explains something I saw on some scrolls containing power equations that she left for me in her shrine."

Star's eyes widened. "She actually left that for you?"

"You've seen them?"

"Yes! And it was after she scanned Discord that she dismissed the Elements of Harmony as an unreliable solution. She said Equestria shouldn't have to rely on a fantastic magical device for its safety." Star paused and waved a hoof at the portal. "So, uh, where were we with this?"

Twilight turned to the portal. "We've all but confirmed that Sunset has anchored the portal somewhere so she can keep an eye on it. The question is, how to bypass that? How can we re-anchor it someplace else?"

Star trotted up to the mirrored surface, staring at her own reflection for a moment. "What you need to know is that Sunset was big on subtlety. She never, ever brute-forced anything."

Twilight stood alongside Star. "That makes sense, considering her initial breakthrough. You can't work with ultra-dense plasma by simply channeling massive amounts of raw energy. It's not sustainable."

Star's gaze became distant, and she lightly touched the surface of the portal with a fore-hoof. "Twilight, she did things with magic that left my jaw on the floor," she said in a hushed and almost reverent voice as she watched the ripples spread from her touch. "I think I idolized her."

"That's not hard to do," Twilight said.

Star lowered her hoof and watched the surface grow steady. She turned towards Twilight. "Maybe she didn't go about it the right way, but she had the right idea: to find a way to protect ponykind into the foreseeable future. My idea. I don't think it was necessarily wrong, I just didn't have the whole picture. Neither did she."

"I'm sorry, I'd love to discuss it further, but we really need to get back to this."

Star nodded. "Of course, my apologies." She took a deep breath. "All right. She likely has some sort of defense against the portal being opened easily. Given her propensities, you can be sure it's designed to throw your own magic back at you."

"Yes, of course," said Twilight. "That explains what happened to Starlight. The more she tried to steady the portal, the more unstable it got."

"Exactly."

"Oh, no! Have we already warned her?"

Star looked thoughtful. "Maybe not. It's been twenty years, after all. She probably thinks Equestria is either in a dark age or teetering on the brink of one. With luck, she thinks it was a random energy surge."

Twilight looked thoughtful. "Maybe a brute-force approach is what we need to take. It's hard to be both subtle and powerful with magic at the same time. Her defenses may be elaborate and tricky, but they might ultimately be delicate. A single, powerful surge might overcome them. Previously I was wary about doing that, but that was before you said Sunset would want to return. It would be in her best interests not to let the portal collapse."

"But would that allow you to re-anchor it?" asked Star.

Twilight paused. "Unfortunately, no. All I can really do is get the portal open enough to go through. I don't see a way to re-anchor it unless I'm actually there, but maybe I don't need to. I was worried about arriving in a public area. I doubt very much she anchored it out in the open where anypony could see it."

"That's all well and good, Twilight," said Star. "But another thing I can say about Sunset is that she's thorough. She leaves nothing to chance. She'll have some sort of backup. Sure, you can get there, but something will stop you from getting much further. Then she can send you packing back to Equestria."

"But you've helped paint a picture of a mare nowhere near as bad as other ponies believe," said Twilight. "Would she be so quick to send back her own beloved niece without at least giving her a chance to explain herself? Maybe I can convince her she's wrong when I'm living proof that Equestria is alive and well!"

Star Singer frowned. "You don't seem to understand how single-minded Sunset can get when she's convinced she has a solution at hoof. She'll grill you for every bit of information on how all those dark forces were defeated."

"Then I'll describe it in as much detail as she wants," said Twilight.

"Right. So you'll tell her that the magical MacGuffins of Harmony--"

"They are not MacGuffins!" Twilight protested.

"Twilight, please, humor me, I'm explaining Sunset's perspective," said Star. "As I was saying, you tell her they're real. Oh, wait, no, we had to give them back to the Tree of Harmony -- to fix something a supposedly reformed Discord did and conveniently forgot to tell us about -- and all we got was a mystery box nopony knew how to open until absolutely everything was almost lost to a dark force that had been defeated in the past! Oh, and now we're all intimately linked to this Magic of Harmony so we don't even have a MacGuffin we can hand off to somepony after we're dead. Who knows what mysterious form these relics will deign to take then? Hey, but don't worry, Sunset, we got everything under control!"

Twilight was silent for a long moment before she said in a soft voice, "Your knowledge of everything that's happened with the Elements of Harmony is ... impressive."

Star sighed. "Old habits die hard. I wanted to know everything I could about how these threats I had seen had been handled. My point is, she doesn't believe in anything other than the inherent magical power of ponykind."

"But she left those scrolls for me--"

"Yes, I know," said Star. "But likely only to keep open the possibility that you would find a way to hold off those dark forces until Sunset accomplished her goal. If you told her that you instead used what she considered an unreliable magical relic, she'll be disappointed in you."

Twilight frowned. "I refuse to believe Aunt Sunset would hurt me."

Star rolled her eyes. "You're not getting it! Sunset doesn't have to hurt you to stop you! She would never be angry with you, she would just think you misguided. She'll send you back to Equestria and lock you out of ever getting back to that world for your own good."

Twilight sighed. "In that case, I'm open to suggestions as to what to do."

Star Singer turned towards the portal and stared at her reflection again. "Send me."

"Er, what?"

"Send me through the portal. Let me be the first pony she sees."

Twilight hesitated. "I'm not sure about this."

"Twilight, all this is my fault. I've spent the last few years thinking I was a great failure, the pony with the useless cutie mark. I want a chance to do something to fix this."

"I don't mean to downplay your contribution, but what can you do once you're there?"

Star started to pace. "I can gain her confidence. She was disappointed when I wouldn't go with her through the portal, but it didn't shatter our friendship. We still shared the same goal. I can find a way to maybe disarm whatever defenses she's got at her end to let you through. Then you'd have more time to make her see reason."

Twilight trotted up to her. "If Sunset is as powerful as I remember her, that's a tall order even for the most skilled unicorn."

"I know," said Star in a low voice. "But maybe I don't need to be powerful. Maybe I just need to be her friend."

Twilight glanced at the portal. "I'll have to think about this. I want to talk to Starlight first."





Derpy fluttered her wings nervously and scraped a fore-hoof against the floor as she stood in one of Celestia's private reception chambers. She swallowed hard as she looked around, shaking her head suddenly when her eyes threatened to unalign. "I-I didn't think they'd take us here," she said in a quavering voice. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Now, now, my dear, chin up!" said Doctor Whooves with a smile. "The fact that you're not in the formal court bodes well, I would think."

"But why summon me? I'm a nopony."

"Nonsense!" Whooves declared. "Did you or did you not just receive an award for a perfect on-time record for delivering the mail?"

Derpy slowly smiled. "Yes, I did. Pinkie Pie is planning to throw me a party to celebrate."

"There, you see? For all you know, the Princess wishes to acknowledge your accomplishment." He turned his head at approaching hoof-falls. "Ah, we're about to find out."

Derpy's eyes widened as she beheld Celestia entering the room. When one eye began to drift, Derpy shook her head again to fix it and dropped into a bow when her companion did the same.

Celestia trotted over to a pillow and sat down. "Please rise, my ponies."

Both ponies rose. Whooves' eyebrows rose slightly when he saw Starlight Glimmer enter the room and stand near Celestia.

Celestia gave them a troubled look before taking a deep breath and levitating one of her journals before her. "I am sorry for the abruptness of this summons, but it is a matter of utmost importance."

Derpy swallowed. "Am I in trouble, Princess?"

"It is I who fear I will be in trouble with you."

Derpy exchanged a confused look with Whooves.

Celestia set the book before her and opened it. "I cannot mince words. Derpy Hooves, you have been living a life that has been partially a lie, and it is my fault."

"I don't understand."

"If I may, Princess," said Doctor Whooves. "Would this by any chance have to do with her original parents? She had informed me of their tragic loss."

"Something like that," said Celestia. Her horn started to glow. "I am about to break a spell that has been upon you since you were a foal, Derpy. This may come as something of a shock."

Her horn blazed, and a tendril of inky black writhed out of the book. Starlight looked on with shimmering eyes as Celestia lowered her head. She pulled the struggling tendril into it, forcing it to wrap around her horn. She jerked her head up, the tendril snapping in two. The intact segment withdrew, and the book slammed shut. The cut piece dissipated.

Derpy's mouth fell open, and her pupils shrank to pinpricks. She fell heavily to her haunches, her ears drooping. "Wh-what ... how ... oh, dear ... oh, dear." Her eyes glistened. "I r-remember them."

Whooves draped a fore-leg around her. "What is it? Who do you remember?"

Derpy sniffled as a tear splashed to the floor. "My parents ... my real parents."

Starlight swallowed. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"I strongly disagree," said Whooves as he drew Derpy close. "She deserves to remember who sired her, even if they are lost to us."

"But they're not lost!" Derpy wailed. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was t-taken from them when I was just a chick!"

"When you ... er ... I don't quite understand. Did you say chick?"

Derpy wiped his eyes with the back of a fore-hoof. She tried to talk, but all she could do was whimper.

"I know what happened," said Starlight. "Derpy was taken from her parents when she was young. Her griffon parents."

Whooves' eyes widened. "Griffon? Had she been adopted by--"

"I was a griffon!" Derpy cried.

Whooves' mouth dropped open. "What??"

"A unicorn named Sunset Shimmer invented a permanent transformation spell," said Starlight. "She experimented with it on a griffon and ... turned her into a pegasus. Derpy was that griffon, but her memory of it was suppressed until now."

Derpy took a deep breath. "I ... i-it's not like I had a terrible life," she said in a quavering voice. "I love my adopted parents. But ... I don't know, I--" She shook her head suddenly. "Sunset gave me this stupid wandering eye. She said it was a mistake. She said she felt bad about it. She promised to fix it, but then she disappeared."

"Great whickering stallions," Whooves said in a hushed voice.

Celestia let out a deep sigh. "Derpy Hooves, I wish to offer my sincerest apologies. This should never have happened, and I should not have made you forget."

Derpy shook her head and sniffled. "I don't want to blame anypony. I-I remember now, you tried to change me back! You were so upset when you couldn't. I should've been the one crying, but you were instead. I felt bad for you, Princess."

Celestia's eyes shimmered. "You truly have a huge heart, Derpy Hooves."

Doctor Whooves smiled. "I've certainly thought so."

Derpy managed a faint smile.

"I'm sorry if this is going to be painful for you," said Celestia. "But Starlight wishes to know about your time with Sunset and what happened."

Derpy nodded. "I'll try."

"I do hope it is to prevent this pony from doing something so abominable ever again!" Whooves declared.

"We're hoping so, yeah," said Starlight.

"Sunset was never mean to me," said Derpy. "She treated me very well. When I got sick, she cared for me."

"Sick?" said Starlight. "With what?"

"She gave me a long, complicated name for it," said Derpy. "I don't quite remember what it was. She said griffons sometimes get it, but it's never fatal. But it does make you feel really lousy."

"And you started changing into a pony while you were sick?"

"Oh, no, not then."

Starlight hesitated. "Wait, what?"

"That didn't start happening until about a week later," said Derpy. "I was really scared when it first started happening, but she tried to keep me calm. It must've worked, because I stopped getting so upset. Once I was a pony, it just seemed natural."

"But still!" said Doctor Whooves. "To not only rip you from your family but from your original body!"

Derpy shrugged. "I've been a pony much longer than a griffon. Other than the eye problem, it's been a decent life. I've got lots of friends, and I finally have a job I'm good at." She sighed. "I do miss my parents, though."

"And you're sure that it was a week between sickness and transformation?" Starlight asked.

Derpy nodded. "I'm pretty sure, yeah."

"Did you see anything unusual around her house?" Starlight asked. "Anything that drew your attention?"

"She showed me a shiny statue of a griffon once. Oh, and when I was sick, she put a sparkly, glowy, crystally thing in my room. It was so very pretty. It helped take my mind off the illness."

Doctor Whooves stepped forward. "What does it all mean, Miss Glimmer?"

"I'm not sure yet," said Starlight. "I'm still trying to piece this together."

"The statue of the griffon was likely her device," said Celestia. "The one she intended to give to the griffons."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking, too," said Starlight. "Derpy, is there anything else you remember after you were changed into a pony?"

"Just that Sunset played with me a lot," said Derpy. "Wow, I don't think any foal my age had that many toys and games!" Her ears drooped. "She ... she acted like she loved me. Maybe she did. Maybe this is weird, but I kinda miss her. She was really happy when I got my cutie mark. She disappeared soon after that."

"Perhaps she did treat you well, my dear," said Whooves. "But I find it revolting that she simply abandoned you."

Derpy lowered her gaze. "Maybe it was better that I was made to forget."

"Derpy Hooves, I feel I must ask this," said Celestia. "Do you wish to be reunited with your real parents?"

Derpy slowly looked up. "I suppose I should, if only so they stop worrying about me. I don't want to think about how frantic they got when I was missing."

"If it helps any, they were included in the spell that suppressed your memories," said Celestia. "They were spared the grief."

Derpy swallowed. "Then I-I'm not sure what would be best."

Doctor Whooves tightened his foreleg around her briefly. "Perhaps some time to think this over would be good, Princess."

"I understand," said Celestia. "We do need to be discreet about this, however."

"Rainbow Dash is close friends with a griffon," said Starlight. "Maybe she can help?"

"An excellent idea, Starlight. I will see about speaking with her on the matter."

Starlight nodded. She cast a forlorn look at Derpy before trotting up to her. "I'm really sorry I had to dredge this up."

Derpy shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of a hoof. "My mother -- my pony mother -- always said that the truth hurts more when it's delayed. I guess it really is better that I know." She looked up at Celestia. "Please, don't feel bad about this, Princess. I don't believe you were trying to be mean by blocking my memories."

"It is Sunset Shimmer who is ultimately at fault," Whooves declared.

"I'm not really all that mad at her," said Derpy. "It's not going to put things back the way they were."

Celestia stood. "You have shown a greater sense of understanding in the face of this than I could have ever hoped for."

"Should I tell my adopted parents about this? I'm not sure what I should do."

Doctor Whooves smiled. "I will help you as much as I can."

Derpy looked at him and slowly smiled. "Thanks. You're a really great friend."

Starlight smiled faintly and turned away. "I better get back to Twilight and see how she's doing."





Starlight was intercepted by Twilight before reaching the portal, and they spoke within Twilight's room at her parents' residence. Starlight raised an eyebrow when Twilight relayed her discussion with Star Singer. "Oh, right. Star Singer, the pony who was directly responsible for Sunset's beliefs, wants to be the first pony through the portal. Sure, that's not suspicious at all."

"You're not the only pony who's unsure of whether she can be trusted or not," said Twilight in a low voice as she paced. "This is not going at all how I had hoped."

"Face it, Twilight, she can tell you anything she wants, and we have no way of knowing whether it's true or not."

"But a lot of what she did say does make a certain amount of sense," said Twilight. "We can pretty much accept as true that Sunset didn't trust things like the Elements of Harmony. What we know of her research bears that out."

"I think you're over-analyzing it. It boils down this: you're an alicorn, Sunset isn't. You can dish it out better than she can."

"She can still have the upper hoof," Twilight declared. "She knows that world far better than we do and has had twenty years to prepare. She could hold me off indefinitely."

"Are you serious?" said Starlight. "How can a single unicorn hold out against an alicorn?"

"You mean like a unicorn once did repeatedly against an alicorn chasing her through a time portal?"

"When did that ever ... um ..." Starlight frowned. "Fine. Point taken."

Twilight stopped pacing and turned to face Starlight. "There's another thing to consider. She's had twenty-one years to further her magical power and knowledge. We already know from past explorations of that world that magic exists and works perfectly well for ponies."

"All right, let me lay out one more possibility," said Starlight. "How about you and all your friends go through together? Then you can let loose your Rainbow Power on her flank. One problem solved."

"The Magic of Harmony is intimately tied to the Tree of Harmony," said Twilight. "Which in turn is tied to Equestria. I'm not sure it would even work in another world. Or the effects might be wildly different and uncontrollable. It's too much of an unknown variable to trust." She took a step closer to Starlight. "I really feel the best approach is a peaceful one. I tried the brute force approach with you and failed. Only once I started to talk to you and make you realize your mistake did you stop."

Starlight's gaze softened. "Getting spooked by that wasteland timeline kinda helped, too."

Twilight smiled. "Which is why I want you along as well. You've been there. You can help convince her. But we need her confidence first, especially if she knows about Star Singer's predictions of you."

Starlight's eyebrows rose. "Predictions of me?"

"You were, um, included in her visions of dark forces."

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Great. I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

Twilight looked thoughtful. "I have an idea. What if I talk to Moon Dancer? I can have Celestia free her from the spell as well and hear what her impressions of her aunt are. Maybe that will gain us more insight as to whether we can trust Star Singer or not."

"If Star Singer didn't pull the same trick that Sunset did in hiding what she really believed from everypony," said Starlight.

"I know, that's a distinct possibility. All right, how about a fail-safe then: we equip Star Singer with a Farhearing Stone so we can hear her conversation with Aunt Sunset."

"Would that work through the portal?"

"Once Star Singer goes through, I can keep it propped open enough for the energy to be transmitted back."

Starlight narrowed her eyes. "And if Sunset senses we're eavesdropping and cuts off communication?"

"I'm not going to hide the fact that we're listening in," said Twilight. "I want to be as open with Aunt Sunset as possible. But if that doesn't work, then we switch to the backup plan. We both go through and fight her, if we can."

Starlight considered. "I don't like it, but I don't have a better idea."

"I'll send off a letter to Celestia shortly about Moon Dancer and prepare the proper spell for the Farhearing Stone," said Twilight. "So what did you find out concerning Derpy?"

Starlight summarized what happened in Celestia's chamber.

Twilight lowered her gaze. "Poor Derpy. I had a feeling this would be hard on her."

"But it does mean we have yet another mystery on our hooves," said Starlight. "It's clear that there was a delay between the infection and the transformation."

"Which, on one hoof, makes sense," said Twilight. "Nopony would think anything of the initial infection. Just another common disease making the rounds. They might not even associate the infection with the transformation at first, ensuring that it had a chance to spread."

"All well and good, but you see the problem."

Twilight lifted her head and nodded. "Where did all the magic go before it was used for the transformation?"

"Well, the spell structure itself can be stored indefinitely, right?" said Starlight.

"Yes, since it simply controls how the undifferentiated thaumic energy is changed into the specific form of magic needed. But that happens when the spell is actually cast, which has to be at the time of infection. It can't be after the virus is defeated."

"Time delay?" Starlight suggested. "Like that writing in your journal?"

"You can only time-delay the actual start of the effect," said Twilight. "In this case, the transformation. The energy for it still had to be created when the spell is cast, so it had to be stored somehow until it was needed."

"I don't want to delay getting through that portal," said Starlight. "I'll keep working on this puzzle while you make preparations."

"I agree, we have to get to that world. Maybe if we can convince Aunt Sunset of her mistake, we won't need to figure this out ourselves."





Moon Dancer's eyes went distant for a few moments before her pupils shrank slightly, and her lips parted. She blinked rapidly and swallowed.

"Are you all right?" asked Twilight.

"Just give me a moment," Moon Dancer said in a soft voice. They sat in her home, as Twilight had preferred not to subject her friend to all the pomp and circumstance of the palace. She had Celestia time her removal of the spell while Twilight was visiting.

"I'm sorry if there's anything traumatic that you just remembered."

"Well, not really, it's more that ..." Moon Dancer trailed off and stared at Twilight. "What exactly just happened?"

"It's what I tried to explain to you earlier," said Twilight. "You and a lot of other ponies have been under a memory suppression spell for twenty-one years."

"There's got to be a story behind that."

"There is, but it's a long one, and I don't have time to tell you all the details. I promise I'll fill you in later. So what exactly changed in your memories?"

"Mostly stuff about my Auntie Star," said Moon Dancer. "Which explains the odd way she was acting yesterday. Was the spell broken for her as well?"

"Yes," said Twilight. "We had to access her memories of my aunt, Sunset Shimmer."

Moon Dancer's eyes widened. "Oh, goodness, the last thing I can now remember from that time was my family hearing she had passed away unexpectedly. I'm so sorry, Twilight. I know my condolences are twenty years late, but--"

Twilight smiled. "It's all right. Thank you. What do you remember of your aunt and mine?"

"Well, let me start with Auntie Star," said Moon Dancer. "Now I remember her as being a little more outgoing. She visited my family and spent time with me more often. I also remember her speaking highly of Sunset." She paused. "Actually, more like gushing about her. Auntie was really impressed with Sunset's magical prowess." Moon Dancer grinned and glanced at Twilight. "Guess it runs in the family."

Twilight blushed faintly. "Did your aunt ever mention anything about her interests?"

"Not a whole lot, actually," said Moon Dancer. "She wasn't very big on details. She did mention something about her cutie mark. I had asked her about it, and she gave me a vague answer about it having to do with the future."

"What about your aunt's demeanor?" Twilight asked.

"I have to admit, Twilight, it seemed like she fared better in my suppressed memories. She actually had a friend who was bringing her out of her shell. In what I guess were my fake memories, she was a near recluse, and after college it just got worse."

"She was worried that maybe you had emulated her," said Twilight softly.

"Maybe I did," said Moon Dancer in a subdued voice. "It's hard to tell how it would've turned out differently. In any case, Auntie Star didn't really start to come around until shortly after you moved to Ponyville."

"Do you know anything of Star Singer's relationship with Sunset?" asked Twilight.

"I know that Sunset was over for dinner a few times, but the very last time, she was all stiff and formal, and Auntie Star was really quiet. I think maybe they had a falling-out." Moon Dancer's gaze became distant. "I remember something else. My mother -- Auntie Star's sister -- was worried about her and pressed her pretty hard about what had happened, and my aunt said the strangest thing. She said 'we're both trying to save Equestria, we just can't agree on how to go about doing it'."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Did anypony ask her to clarify at all?"

"I don't know. I was, um, eavesdropping. I don't think I was supposed to hear that. I dashed away before I could be discovered." Moon Dancer paused. "It wasn't long after that when we heard Sunset had died, but I never saw my aunt's reaction to it."

Twilight considered. "Moon Dancer, how would you describe your aunt as you recall in your real memories now?"

Moon Dancer gave Twilight a wary look. "Is my aunt in some sort of trouble?"

"No, not at all," said Twilight. "But she needs to help me with something very important that requires placing a huge amount of trust in her. Where I hardly know her, I need to be sure."

Moon Dancer nodded. "Well, even when she was more outgoing, she did tend to keep a lot of details about her life to herself."

"So she was being secretive?" Twilight asked.

"Not really. More like she was worried. Even when she was in a more upbeat mood, there was always that worry lingering in the background." Moon Dancer paused and turned her head towards Twilight. "That's all I really know."

Twilight nodded and hopped off the sofa. "Thank you, I really appreciate you talking to me, and I'm glad you're taking this well."

Moon Dancer smiled wanly. "It is a little disturbing to have had my memories suppressed all this time, but I'm absolutely fascinated by how the spell might have worked."

Twilight smiled. "In that respect, you haven't changed a bit."

"Can you tell me something?" said Moon Dancer in a softer voice. "Do you have any idea what my aunt meant by what she said about saving Equestria? Was it just hyperbole, or did she really mean it?"

"In a way, she was sincere in what she said," Twilight said. "It was just that neither of them quite understood the whole picture. I promise to fill you in later."

Moon Dancer nodded. "I just hope Auntie Star comes through this okay."

"I hope we all do," said Twilight in a soft voice.





Twilight stood before the portal, her horn glowing as she did some final calibrations. Spike stood beside her with a scroll and quill, occasionally taking down notes that Twilight dictated. Starlight glanced towards the door as they awaited Star Singer's arrival. "I still don't like this, Twilight," said Starlight. "You really didn't learn much from Moon Dancer at all."

"I know," said Twilight as she stepped over to the left pillar. She adjusted the alignment of one of the crystals. "Which is why I'm hedging my bets."

"In what way?"

Twilight paused to calibrate the flow of energy from one of the mana batteries. "There might be a way to break the anchor at the other end of the portal from here."

Starlight stared. "And you didn't tell me this before now because??"

Twilight turned towards her. "Because I wasn't sure I could do it until just a short while ago, and even then it's going to be a gamble. I've figured out how the anchor can be broken, but not how to re-anchor it somewhere else."

Starlight stepped closer. "So what's your idea?"

"If we feel that Aunt Sunset won't listen to reason -- or that Star Singer is going to betray us somehow -- we can break the anchor, let the end of the portal drift away far enough, and then we go through before Aunt Sunset has a chance to gain control of it again."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "And what's to stop us from landing in the middle of town square?"

Spike stepped forward and held up the scroll. "Twilight took more measurements of the magic leaking through the portal. She thinks it's anchored in the middle of a small town. Maybe not much bigger than Ponyville."

"Which means it won't take much drift to place the other end outside of town," said Twilight.

"Um, okay, but what's to stop us from ending up underwater or imbedded in solid rock?" Starlight asked.

"I believe Aunt Sunset built in some safety features into the portal. The other endpoint should follow the contour of the land." Twilight paused before adding, "Theoretically."

Starlight frowned. "Well, that just inspires as much confidence as having Star Singer go through first."

"Shh!" Twilight hissed as hoofsteps approached.

They both turned as Star Singer stepped into the room. "So, um, are we ready to do this?" she said in a slightly quavering voice.

"You sound a little nervous," said Starlight, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'm about to be hurtled into another universe," Star deadpanned. "You tell me how I'm supposed to stay absolutely calm."

"Spike, if you would?" asked Twilight softly. Spike saluted and headed away. Twilight trotted over to Star Singer. "It should be perfectly safe. I trust my knowledge of the portal that far."

"That's not what I'm really worried about," said Star. "I'm more concerned that we're all wrong about Sunset, and that her personality has changed since we knew her. I could be trapped in that universe with no way back."

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen." Twilight paused when Spike came running up, holding two amulets in his claws, both with round blue stones in the center. She levitated one towards Star. "Here."

Star gave it a wary glance before taking it in her own magic. "A Farhearing Stone?"

Twilight levitated hers around her own neck. "So we can hear what's being said."

Star glanced from Starlight to Twilight. "You don't trust me."

"Um, it's not really that," said Twilight. "We just want to know what's happening."

Star frowned and held up a fore-hoof. "Save it." She levitated the amulet around her neck. "If I were in your position, I'd probably do the same thing."

"Glad we understand each other, then," Starlight said.

Twilight frowned. "Starlight, please."

"No, it's fine, Twilight," said Star Singer. "I'd just as soon we clear the air around here. You want to know if my beliefs will affect me once I'm with my friend again. Do I still believe that ponykind needs to be stronger so it doesn't have to rely on magical artifacts for its survival? Absolutely. Do I believe her solution is the way? Absolutely not. I'm convinced that if she had stayed here instead of heading off to some other world, we could've figured out a solution together, or we could have understood the Magic of Harmony better." She paused and added in a lower voice. "I still believe that, and I still want the chance to do it. I want her back here, where she belongs."

"All right," said Twilight. "Starlight, I'll need your help."

Starlight headed to the right pillar. "Same as before?"

Twilight took position before the left pillar. "Yes, but this time, don't go for finesse. Push hard until the portal opens. Star Singer, please take position before the entrance. Don't advance until I tell you."

Star took a deep breath and trotted over. "All right. Ready as I'll ever be."

Twilight nodded to Starlight. They lowered their heads as one, and a second later, bright beams of magic shot from their horns into the base of the pillars.

The hum of the device rose to floor-shaking levels as the surface rippled. Sparks flickered along the length of the pillars as Twilight shouted adjustments to Starlight. Soon the discharges calmed, and the ripples collapsed on themselves and raced into the distance, a long, dark tunnel extending as far as the eye could see. The hum settled to a lower, slightly pulsing rhythm.

"We're through!" Twilight cried. "It's open, we can stop!"

Starlight ceased her energy infusion at the same time her partner did. She panted lightly as she took a step back.

Star Singer stared, her eyes widening. "That looks like a long way to go."

"It's not, actually," said Twilight. "It will be more or less instantaneous. Please, step through."

Star nodded, swallowed, and lifted a fore-hoof. She uttered a small gasp as her hoof went through the plane. She hesitated, then surged forward. When the last of her had passed through, her form seemed to freeze for a moment before abruptly racing off into the impossible distance.





Before Star Singer could take a single breath, her hooves found purchase on a floor harder than the one she left. She blinked rapidly, trying to take in surroundings lighted only by the open portal behind her and a distant glow. Her eyes widened as she realized she was in a room with smooth, stony floor and walls, and her heart skipped a beat when she thought she was in some sort of dungeon. Then she saw the high window on one wall and the daylight beyond it. She lifted her eyes to the wooden beams that ran overhead and saw a staircase leading up.

"A basement?" Star murmured.

Her ears swivelled as she heard a sound halfway between soft crackling and bubbling that was oddly familiar. Her gaze fell upon a crystal apparatus against one wall that looked very much like an analysis device she once used back in college in one of her biology courses.

She looked towards the stairs. They looked a bit steep for her hooves, but she supposed she could climb them if she were careful. Yet no sooner had she taken a single step when magic sparkled and rippled before her as a shield sprang up, surrounding her and the runic circle she only then noticed had been drawn upon the floor.

Star Singer raised a hoof and poked her prison. The magic rippled from her touch, but otherwise it might as well have been made of solid stone. Her Farhearing Stone glowed, and Twilight's slightly staticky voice said, "What's going on? We sensed a magic surge at this end."

"Just the backup plan I told you about," said Star. She lighted her horn. "It's a shield, and just as I suspected, it's feeding off my own magic to maintain itself."

"Don't fight it!" Twilight said.

The glow of Star's horn faded. "I'm not intending to."

"So what's she supposed to do?" came Starlight's voice.

"I'm supposed to wait," said Star. "I doubt it will be long before Sunset comes to--"

A flash of light filled the basement, and a yellow and red unicorn stood several pony-lengths away.

"--investigate."

Star Singer paused as her gaze fell upon the unicorn whose eyes had widened and mouth had dropped open. Her heart lurched as memories now raced in her mind, fond remembrances clashing hard with resentment, and neither gaining the upper hoof.

She finally took a deep breath to compose herself and said, "Hello, Sunset. Long time, no see."
> Chapter 27 - Unexpected Arrivals
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello, Sunset. Long time, no see."

For a long moment, all Sunset Shimmer could do was stare. She almost refused to believe what she was seeing, or that she was hearing native Equestrian for the first time in twenty years. "Star Singer??"

Star Singer's smile held a slight edge. "I suppose I should be glad you remembered me." She glanced at the gurgling crystal apparatus against one wall. "Teaching yourself biology? I guess I sort of left you no choice."

The shield abruptly vanished as Sunset approached. She sniffed the air before throwing herself at Star Singer and pulling her into a tight embrace. "Great Celestia, it really is you," Sunset said in a quavering voice.

Star hesitated before wrapping her fore-legs around Sunset to return the embrace. "I have to admit, I didn't exactly expect this kind of reception."

"Why wouldn't I greet you like this?" Sunset said with a wide smile. "We made a great team. It really saddened me when you ..." She trailed off as her eyes fell on the pendant. "Who's listening in?"

"Your niece, Twilight Sparkle."

Sunset gasped. "Twily? She's alive??"

Star gave her friend a level look. "Yes, as is the rest of your family, and the Princesses, and all of Equestria."

Sunset's eyes misted. "Oh, heavens, this is wonderful news. Equestria is alive. I can complete my task in time, so now it will stay that way."

"Sunset, wait--"

Sunset looked towards the runic circle. "Why didn't Twily come herself? I've missed her terribly."

"I asked to see you first," said Star in a soft voice. "I thought you might listen to me because we shared the same goal."

Sunset gave her friend a puzzled look. "I don't understand."

"Whatever you're doing, it's not needed. I was wrong. There was no dark age. The Princesses -- which, I might add, includes Twilight --"

Sunset smiled. "I knew Twily had it in her!"

"Listen to me!" Star Singer cried. "She and Princess Celestia -- and a reformed Princess Luna -- have been protecting Equestria just fine and dandy all this time. Not to mention there's Princess Cadance, and the Princess she gave birth to. I'd say that's a lot of alicorn power to keep Equestria safe for the foreseeable future."

"And was it just their inherent power that kept the dark forces at bay?" Sunset asked. "The fact that they had to do anything means you were partially right. Those dark forces did come, didn't they?"

"They were dealt with," said Star in a flat voice.

"And I ask again: was it their inherent power that kept those dark forces at bay?"

"No, they had help," said Star in a lower voice. "The Elements of Harmony are real. They're not just some legendary relic. There's a whole system of magic behind them that goes beyond just--"

"I know they're real," Sunset said. "I knew that when I scanned Discord. I'm glad that they had a use in propping up Equestria until a real solution can--"

"They don't need or want your solution."

Sunset frowned. "My solution? What happened to our solution? Everything I'm doing is based on your foresight. This is your idea, I simply took it to its logical conclusion."

Star Singer narrowed her eyes. "I never talked about transforming an entire species."

"At one time you thought it a viable option," said Sunset. "Or have you forgotten the preliminary research that we did into the matter?"

"And you told me you abandoned that approach! You conveniently hid all that additional research from me."

Sunset waved a fore-hoof. "You're evading the question."

Star took a deep breath. "All right, fine. Maybe I did consider that possibility, but a lot has happened since then."

Sunset looked thoughtful. "Tell me, Starry: how many ponies exist in Equestria?"

Star hesitated. "Uh, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Humor me, please."

"Well, there hasn't been a formal census in some time, but back then we had calculated it was around fifty million. I don't think it's gone up a whole lot since then."

"This planet has seven billion inhabitants."

Star Singer's mouth dropped open, and her pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Did ... d-did you say billion?!"

Sunset smiled. "Seven billion potential ponies."

Star Singer swallowed hard.

"Do you realize how much magical potential that is? That kind of power could have kept Equestria safe against any enemy, all without depending on ancient relics or unreliable magic that only deigns to make its presence known if events all happen to align the right way. It would virtually guarantee the survival of ponykind. That's the very thing you and I both wanted from the start."

Star Singer hesitated before shaking her head. "No, we don't have the right to do this. You're wiping out one species in favor of another."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," said Sunset. "I'm simply giving them something that will help them be better than they ever were before."

Star frowned. "And you think these natives so primitive that you need too--"

"That is precisely not what I am thinking," Sunset declared. "On the contrary, they've done amazing things without magic, and they'll carry that knowledge into their pony forms."

Star Singer stared. "Without magic? They have no magic at all?"

"Not in the least," said Sunset. "Now do you see how this is for their benefit as well? What happens if one of those dark forces finds this world? This whole planet will be helpless. What would you prefer? A world of magic-less beings left unaltered and ripe to be killed or enslaved, or a world of ponies with enough magic to withstand any foe?"

Star remained silent for a long moment. "But ... but what about these amazing things you talked about? Don't they have some sort of defense?"

"Oh, yes," said Sunset in a low voice. "They have weapons that can vaporize an entire city in an instant. But they're totally blind to magic. They don't even believe it exists. They might not even know they're under attack until it's too late. Even if they did know, just a tiny number of those weapons I mentioned would cause catastrophic environmental damage. Wielding magic directly is a far more elegant and safer solution."

Star again fell silent, her eyes clouded.

"I'm honestly shocked at this reluctance, Starry," said Sunset in a softer voice. "I'm also rather surprised Twily isn't here herself. If anypony would understand what I'm trying to do -- and embrace it wholeheartedly -- it would be her. She had the intelligence to know what I was really trying to teach her."

Star Singer frowned. "She's the one trying to stop you."

Sunset hesitated. "I beg your pardon?"

"She doesn't believe in what you taught her. Her life took a different path after the Princess ..." Star trailed off.

Sunset raised an eyebrow. "After the Princess what?"

Star shook her head. "Never mind."

"What is it?" Sunset demanded.

"I'm not sure I should tell you."

Before Sunset could reply, magic flared inside the runic circle. She snapped her gaze to it just as the silvery plane of the portal opening appeared, its surface rippling as a figure stepped through. Sunset's eyes widened, and she stumbled back a step as her eyes beheld her new visitor.

"You won't have to tell her, Star Singer," said Twilight. "I will."

"T-Twily," Sunset said in a hushed voice.

For a moment whose silence was broken only by the thrumming energies of the portal, the two mares stared at one another. Twilight's eyes glistened, her heart lurching as she gazed upon a beloved family member she had lost twice, once by apparent death and once by spell. Sunset swallowed hard, her eyes beholding a pony she had desperatedly wanted to see grow up and become the powerful mare she now was.

Twilight stepped forward, but a shield sprang up around her as it had Star Singer. "You might as well lower this, Aunt Sunset," said Twilight as her horn glowed. "It will only take me a minute to work around your traps."

Sunset took a step closer. "Why should you need to?" she said in a voice as much pleading as it was questioning. "Surely Starry was wrong. You can't possibly be against me."

"Everything Star Singer said is true," said Twilight. "You don't need to do this. Equestria is safe and strong, and we can keep it that way without transforming an entire species!"

"This is not what I had taught you," Sunset declared. "I was sure I had convinced you of the power behind pony magic, that it is the only thing that can be relied upon. You're smarter than this, Twily, I know you are!"

"I didn't grow up the way you had intended," Twilight said in a softer voice. "Until just recently, I ... I didn't remember you at all."

Sunset gave her a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"After what you had been planning reached the griffons, Celestia was afraid of the fallout. She didn't want to risk the rest of the world making war on Equestria. She cast a spell that suppressed all memory of you."

Sunset's eyes widened. "She did what?!"

"I never espoused your views because I never remembered them, not until the spell was lifted recently," said Twilight.

"Maybe that's proof that your ... our solution was never needed," said Star Singer. "Twilight and her friends have done amazing things to keep Equestria safe, and--"

Sunset narrowed her eyes at Twilight. "Are you telling me that you grew up not even knowing I existed?" Sunset thundered. "I was just forgotten? All my accomplishments erased like they never happened?!"

"I don't like it either, Auntie!" Twilight cried. "I was upset with her as well."

"Realize the the situation you put Princess Celestia in," Star Singer said. "The griffons had somehow found out what you did and--"

"Of course they found out!" Sunset roared. "I was the one who let them find out! I was desperate to force Celestia's hoof. You think I wanted to leave Equestria? You think I wanted to rip myself from my family?" She turned to Twilight. "From you? I loved you like a daughter, Twilight. I didn't want to leave you, but I did because I felt I had no choice!"

"But now you do have a choice," Twilight said. "You can take the time to understand."

Star hesitated before adding, "Sunset, listen to her. The Magic of Harmony ... just may be enough to keep Equestria safe."

Sunset whirled around to face Star. "May be enough? You don't even believe your own words!"

"I'm trying to, Sunset, because what you're doing is wrong."

"There is no right or wrong here, only what's necessary."

"There's more to Equestria than just pony magic and Harmony, Auntie!" Twilight declared. "It's not all about raw power. You're taking too simplistic an approach!"

Sunset turned towards Twilight. "That's where you're wrong, Twily. It is simple. I'm just sorry you can't see that, but you've been turned against me by a pony I once admired." Her horn blazed. "I wanted your blessing, even your help, but what I cannot accept is your interference."

The shield disappeared with a faint pop. "Auntie, stop, don't make me fight you!" Twilight cried.

Star's pupils shrank. "Sunset, no, wait, don't!"

Even as the words left Star Singer's mouth, Sunset let loose a blast of magic towards Twilight. Star turned her head away as the brilliance hurt her eyes, and she braced herself against a scream that never came. When the light died, Star dared to look.

Sunset stood at the edge of the runic circle, a char mark spreading across the concrete in its center. The circle remained eerily quiescent for another few moments, until a blue light flickered about its edge, and the low thrumming of the portal returned.

Star's mouth fell open, and she galloped up to the circle. "What ... wh-what did you just ...??"

"Clever," Sunset said in a low voice. "Very clever, Twily."

"What did you do to her?!"

Sunset turned to Star Singer. "Calm down. Nopony was hurt. I could never bring myself to harm a single hair on Twily's mane, and I doubt I would win a direct confrontation with an alicorn."

"But what happened?"

Sunset smiled. "She tricked me, and rather effectively. That bit about her trying to work around my trap? That was a diversion. She was trying to break the portal anchor. So was that the real reason you talked to me? Another diversion?"

Star swallowed. "I had no idea Twilight was planning this."

"She likely tried it from the other end and realized I had taken precautions against it," said Sunset. "So she had to come here to do it. Only she couldn't do it herself, as I would notice her trying to impart that much energy into the portal and stop her. So she used my energy instead."

"But what were you trying to do?" Star asked.

"I was simply trying to send her back through the portal and lock it down. Instead, she cast a spell that changed the energy to her own purposes and severed the anchor."

"And you stopped her?"

"On the contrary, I gave her a little boost. It will buy me time."

Star Singer frowned. "Time for what?"

Sunset levitated the Farhearing Stone pendant from around Star's neck and set it aside after casting a neutralizing spell upon it. "For me to convince you of the merits of what I am trying to accomplish here. Then maybe you can help me convince Twily."





The quiet of the mountainside was broken only by the wind that swept over the snow-covered ground and whistled faintly through the branches of the pine trees, at least until a glowing pane appeared in mid-air. Energy crackled and thrummed, and a tunnel briefly extruded itself into infinity long enough to dump two flailing ponies towards the ground before closing with a low boom that echoed into the distance.

The ponies had little time to react before striking the ground, tumbling down the steep gradient another dozen pony-lengths before landing in two colored heaps, snow crusting their fur and hair. A pair of saddlebags landed a short distance away, sending up another puff of snow. They remained still for another few moments, breathing heavily, until the lighter colored one rose to her hooves and frowned. Starlight glanced up at where the portal had been and muttered, "It'll follow the contour of the land. Right."

"Oh, stop complaining," said Twilight as she stood. She shook herself and then her wings. "It was only a short distance. At least we made it in one piece."

"No thanks to your wild scheme."

Twilight stepped up to the fallen saddlebags, hooves crunching against the snow. "There was nothing wild about it. I had planned from the start to break the anchor. I simply had to adapt my methods." Twilight looked around and smiled. "I almost can't believe this. We're actually standing in a completely different universe. This is amazing!"

"Look, can you nerd-out later?" Starlight said. "Do you even know where we are? And if you answer 'on an alien world,' I swear I'm going to slap you."

Twilight rolled her eyes as she levitated the saddlebags to her barrel. "Really, we should be right where I plotted the drift of the portal would take us." She lighted her horn. "Which is not far from the source of ... um ..." She paused. "Oh, dear."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Uh, is that a small-unexpected-complication oh dear, or a we're-totally-screwed oh dear?"

Twilight's horn brightened, and she turned towards the northeast. "The greatest concentration of transformation magic is in the direction I expected but, um, further away."

"How much further?"

"I had wanted to land us as close to the town as the White Tail Woods are to Ponyville," said Twilight. "We're a little further than that."

"How much further, Twilight?"

"More like half the distance to Appleloosa."

Starlight face-hoofed.

"It's not that bad," said Twilight as she stepped towards a break in the trees. "Soon as we get off this mountain, I can teleport us short distances over level ... terrain ... er ..." Her gaze swept a landscape filled with more snow-capped and densely-forested mountains. "Oh, dear."

"Great," Starlight muttered. "Sunset just had to start her apocalypse in the most mountainous place on the planet."

"Actually, if this world is as geologically active as the old exploration reports indicated, I would expect it capable of even rougher terrain in tectonically--"

"I didn't ask for a geology lesson!" Starlight exclaimed. "What I want to know is, what the hay happened?"

Twilight checked the contents of the saddlebags for damage. "Aunt Sunset had just enough time to realize what I had done, and she pushed the portal endpoint further way to delay us."

"Well, congratulate her, then, because it worked spectacularly."

"Starlight, calm down," Twilight declared. "We need to get moving to have any hope of getting to Aunt Sunset and stopping this."

"If we can, now that she has Star Singer helping her."

"We don't know that."

"Oh, come on," Starlight said. "You heard yourself how wishy-washy she was getting at the end. I knew this was a bad idea from the start."

"And if we hadn't sent her first, I would never have had the chance to work out how to break the anchor," said Twilight. "That's part of what swayed me in favor of letting her go first. She bought me valuable time to craft the proper spell."

Starlight sighed. "I suppose you're right." Her horn glowed as she cast a spell to dry off her fur and hair. "Though you're lucky you had enough time to fetch me and the supplies."

"Luck had nothing to do with it," said Twilight. "I specifically wanted Aunt Sunset to think I'm alone and unprepared. We need to press whatever advantage we can get. Now, let's go."





Eileen awoke from a deep slumber and stared up from the sofa at an unfamiliar ceiling. It took her a few moments to remember she was not in her apartment in Denver. She rubbed her grainy eyes before touching her forehead. She was cooler than she had been the night before -- what she could remember of it once the police had brought her to the house -- but the rest of her felt stifling hot and sweaty. She kicked the covers back, still in the clothes she had worn the day before.

She groaned and forced herself to sit up as footsteps descended the stairs behind her. "Are you all right?" came Sarah's voice.

Eileen frowned. "Like you care, sis. Why even check on me?"

"I, uh, heard you moving around and thought you might be awake."

"I won't be awake for another few hours," Eileen murmured as she heard Sarah walk around the edge of the sofa.

"Then maybe you'll be kind enough to take a cold shower. Our water heater is temperamental. The kids are sleeping in this morning due to school being closed, so you'll have it to yourself."

Eileen lifted her gaze. "I'm touched by your ..." She trailed off and stared.

Sarah looked flustered for a moment at the scrutiny. She folded her arms, her orange-furred equine ears drawing back slightly. "Something wrong?"

"The fuck am I seeing?" Eileen muttered.

"This is what you wanted, right? To be in the middle of all this? Well, congratulations, now you are."

"They didn't say anything about this!"

"Keep your voice down, please," said Sarah. "I don't want you waking the kids. Also, these things are sensitive to noise, and I already have a headache I can't get rid of."

"You didn't have this last night," said Eileen. "No one did."

"Laura is worse," said Sarah. "She just didn't want to deal with the angst, so she stayed in her room. She had no idea you'd stagger in about to drop. The police wanted to take you to the hospital."

Eileen frowned and forced herself to her feet. "I'm fine."

"Yes, now, after a night's sleep. What would've happened had you succeeded in your stupid scheme? I doubt you could've driven safely."

"I don't need a fucking lecture from you," Eileen said as she turned away.

"I just want to impress upon you how ill-conceived this was," said Sarah. "You didn't do your son any good. He had to see you like this, so sick you almost collapsed."

"Then maybe he knows I actually care for him," Eileen murmured. "You know what? I give in. You win again. I was stupid. That's what you want to hear, right? That you can be ten times the mother I could ever be?"

Sarah hesitated. "That's not what I mean."

Eileen turned towards her. "It's what you're thinking."

Sarah remained silent.

"Sis, you're all turning into fucking horses."

"Ponies."

"Whatever. You think I want that to happen to Bob?"

Sarah frowned. "You think I want this to happen to anyone in our family? Even you?"

"You don't have to pretend to care," Eileen said.

Sarah marched up to her sister. "You haven't seen Laura. She can't even stand up straight. We got another reverse-911 call this morning to tell us they're setting up shelters for those who can't care for themselves. As much as I want to keep the family together, I may have to take her there, simply because I don't know how much longer any of us can care for her!"

Eileen had no response.

"You don't have a damn clue what we're dealing with," Sarah muttered. "Everybody in town has been exposed. You spiriting Bob away would've done nothing. If he does get this, this is the best place for him, where they're already set up to deal with it."

"What are you getting at?" Eileen asked in an annoyed voice.

Sarah clenched her hands into fists. "You were the last one in the family that had a chance of not being exposed. Or you'd be the last one to get it. I thought that maybe -- just maybe -- this one time you'd rise to the challenge if the rest of the family is disabled."

"Well, I did!" Eileen said. "I'm here. I can help. I wasn't expecting this to be a free ride."

Sarah sighed. "And who's going to help Mom?"

"She's fine," Eileen said in a subdued voice. "The assisted care place is top notch."

"But who handles her paperwork? Who does her taxes? Who deals with the home when they have questions, or when they just can't understand her heavy Irish accent? You do that. How the hell are you going to do any of that from here?"

"There is such a thing as the internet, you know," Eileen said.

"Eileen, you know you have to have documents notarized half the time, and there are arrangements for her care that have to be done in person when--"

"I want to see Bob," said Eileen.

Sarah frowned. "I already said, the kids are still in bed. You'll see him when he gets up, and only if he wants to see you."

"What the hell does that mean? And since when can you dictate when I can or can't see my son?!"

"I told you, keep your voice--"

"Mom?"

Sarah spun around. A slightly pale Jenny stood at the top of the stairs. "What is it?"

"It's Laura," Jenny said in a hollow voice. "You better come upstairs."

Sarah's blood ran cold. "Not ... does she have ... are her feet ...?"

"Not that. It's ... you better come up here."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Eileen, get Harry, he's in his office. Second door on the right through that hallway."

Eileen glanced from Jenny to Sarah before nodding and rushing off.

Sarah bolted up the stairs and tore down the hallway, her heart hammering, terrible visions of what had happened to Laura racing through her head. None of them prepared her for what she saw when she stood in the doorway of her daughter's bedroom.

Laura sat on the edge of her bed. She clutched the remnants of her nightgown to herself, a ragged tear reaching halfway down its back. From the glimpses of her body around it, fur had spread up her legs and around her hips. Her feet were still untouched, though that was not at all what riveted Sarah's shimmering gaze.

Wings emerged from Laura's shoulders, the feathers the same sunshine yellow shade as her fur.

"L-Laura??" Sarah breathed. "Are you ...?"

The rest of her question died on her lips when Laura looked up. "I thought they said we're turning into ponies." Her ears drew back, and her wings quivered. "Ponies don't have wings. What exactly am I becoming?"

Sarah hesitated, taken aback by the eerie calm with which her daughter had spoken. She finally rushed forward, hugging her daughter tightly. "I don't know, honey," she said in a quavering voice. "But I promise, we'll get you to someone who can find out."





Kevin had been asked the day before to move into a dormitory on site set up for all personnel directly assigned to the emergency to avoid any potential chaos that might spread to the streets as the symptoms progressed. It had said nothing about the chaos he encountered inside the clinic that morning.

Kevin had barely enough time to read the reports on Fred's condition when Sandra tracked him down. "Sandra, what's going on? It's like all hell has broken loose!"

"It has." Sandra grasped his arm and led him to a conference room, closing the door behind her. "There's been a complete explosion of new symptoms."

"I gathered that," said Kevin. "Does it have anything to do with the imaging that was taken late yesterday?"

"That imaging showed an unknown rearrangement of the shoulder and upper back in some patients, and an unknown restructuring of neural matter in the frontal lobes of the brain in others, as well as odd bone changes to the skull," said Sandra.

"And did it progress further?"

"Yes." Sandra paused. "Wings and horns."

Kevin stared. "Did I just hear you right?"

Sandra opened the folder she carried. She took out several photographs and thrust them at Kevin.

Kevin slipped on his reading glasses as he took the photos in hand. His lips parted as he was presented with a picture of a young male patient, a single tapering horn jutting from his forehead. The next was of an older woman who had sprouted wings, her feathers the same pale red color as the fur that covered her legs. "Good God."

"We knew something was in the works," said Sandra. "And these are only the people we just happened to have under observation at the hospital and the clinic."

Kevin sat down heavily in a chair, still staring at the photos. "What of Laura Tanner?"

"Her imaging had shown skeletal deformities about the shoulders. She likely has her own pair of wings." Sandra sighed. "This is going to hit the news big time."

Kevin took off his glasses. "We couldn't keep this under wraps forever. We have to share information if for no other reason than to solicit help from other scientists."

"We certainly need it."

Kevin leaned back in his chair. "Have we learned anything at all?"

"We've exceeded in expanding our repertoire of what we don't know," said Sandra. "Especially considering the initial test results for Mr. Turner."

"Genetics is not my forte, but I did look at the reports," said Kevin. "DNA is non-human but matches no known equine species. The test on the hoof scrapings said they found something like keratin, but not quite."

"Just like the horns are bone, but not quite, and the feathers are similar to what we would expect from an avian, but not quite. In every single damn test, there's some element we don't understand."

"Did the testing on me reveal anything?" Kevin asked.

"We're still churning through those," said Sandra. "Which reminds me, we'll need to draw some more blood again, as a few vials were misplaced. We did get through a preliminary genetic test. All we found was a mutation on a gene responsible for mitochondia development. We assume it's benign since there's nothing in your medical records about any related issues."

"No, I never had anything like that," said Kevin. "I take it there's no link between that and my immunity?"

"Not that we can immediately see, but we're still investigating." Sandra frowned. "You see what I mean, Kevin? We're not getting any answers, just more questions! We don't have a clue what triggers the start of the transformation, and we're running out of time."

"I thought you said we prevented this from spreading," said Kevin.

"I'm hoping we did, but new cases are still popping up outside the emergency zone. What I'm more concerned with is a report I just got not ten minutes ago from the contingent in Breckenridge." Sandra shuffled through the pages in her folder. "Kevin, you said in your initial examination of Laura Tanner that she took three days for the hair color to come in completely, two more before the eyes changed color, then two for the tail."

Kevin nodded. "Yes, that was fairly consistent across all my patients."

"The report from Breckenridge concerns some patients who have progressed to a tail. They said it took two days for the hair color and only an additional day for the eye color change. If this isn't just a local aberration, it could mean that later generations of the disease progress the transformation faster." Sandra snapped the folder closed. "If that's the case, anyone who has symptoms now will likely be completely transformed in less than a week."

Kevin's throat tightened as he recalled that day that he was told his wife's condition was terminal. His wife had chosen to donate her body to science when she died so they could learn more about the aggressive cancer that was killing her. "I don't want to abandon them to their fate. I've had enough of that in my life."

"I don't want to either, but right now the focus has to be on containment," said Sandra. "We have to keep these people in isolation indefinitely until we know if they're still contagious. It's likely only a matter of days before we're going to ask everyone in town to enter the shelters. It's the only way we can be sure to keep this contained."

Kevin stood up. "And what about the new influenza cases?"

"We tested them," said Sandra in a level voice. "Vanilla H1N1. They've agreed to be transfered to the hospital, including Mr. Turner's daughter, and they're undergoing aggressive treatment with antivirals. Assuming it's successful, we'll observe them to see if it eliminated susceptibility to ETS."

"What of the patients outside of Lazy Pines?"

Sandra shifted her weight. "Every last one said they had the flu prior to these symptoms."

"Sandra--"

"I know!" Sandra snapped. "But the fact of the matter is, influenza doesn't do this."

"You were the one who praised me for sticking to my guns," Kevin said in irritation. "Has that changed?"

"No. The CDC is still going all-out to stop this, but realize that even if they're successful, or this surge burns itself out, that would mean potentially another three hundred thousand people transformed if it is directly related to the flu."

"I'm more concerned about what happens it they're not successful."

"The only way a pandemic can be stopped is by a total shutdown of the transportation grid," said Sandra. "Aircraft, trains, highways, everything. Washington is not prepared to take that drastic a step without hard proof. That's not going to happen when test after goddamn test comes back with absolutely no variation between this and the H1N1 that ran its course during the first part of the flu season."

"That alone should be a warning sign that we're missing something," Kevin declared. "Janet Turner already had this season's variant of the flu."

Sandra paused. "I beg your pardon?"

"Didn't she tell you that?"

"She's been distraught," said Sandra in a subdued voice. "She's been demanding to see her father. We have her medical records, but she must not have sought treatment for her former bout with the flu as there's no record of it."

"I think this warrants further investigation," said Kevin. "Because if we find more cases like that, then that might mean that this season's flu vaccine is absolutely useless, and the CDC will only be spinning its wheels."

"Shit," Sandra murmured. "All right, let me see what I can do. It may be more imperative than ever that we find out what the hell is making you immune to it."





Star Singer narrowed her eyes at Sunset. "Why do you think I'll be so easy to convince, especially after the way you trashed our friendship?"

Sunset gave her a confused look. "Trashed? What are you talking about?"

"Nopony outside my family knew you were my friend, and even then I had to drag you to see them!"

"I did that to protect you," said Sunset.

Star gave her an odd look. "From what?"

Sunset stepped over to the apparatus. "I had no idea if my plans would be discovered. I didn't want you to suffer the fallout with me."

"You mean you didn't want to risk it getting back to you through me."

Sunset glanced at her. "Well, yes, that too. You know I was always a very practical mare."

Star looked at the apparatus with some interest and gestured at it with a hoof. "And just what are you trying to do here?"

"I've found a native who appears immune to the virus I harnessed to deliver the transformation spell," said Sunset. "I've obtained some samples of his blood to find out why. You can help me with that."

Star raised an eyebrow. "What happened to practicality?"

"There's nothing more practical than making use of the talents of a friend who unexpectedly showed up. Unless you have another point?"

"You should be treating me like the enemy," Star said. "I was working with Twilight to stop you. What if I do discover what's making this native immune and decide to use that knowledge to create some sort of vaccine against it?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Sunset. "You have only the resources that I make available to you. By the time Twilight gets here, and you can get that information to her, it will be too late to do anything with it."

"You're that confident that you have everything all sewn up?"

"Yes. I've had twenty years to prepare."

Star Singer turned more fully towards Sunset. "I think you're underestimating Twilight's abilities, Sunset. She was the bearer of the Element of Magic. She was already considered one of the smartest unicorns in Equestria before she Ascended. When Tirek returned, she was able to hold the equivalent magic of four alicorns inside her and fought him to a standstill."

"I'm delighted to hear you prove my point," said Sunset. "Four alicorns, and still not enough to bring down one enemy."

"That isn't what I meant!" Star Singer cried. "You're changing the subject."

"Starry, I believe you when you say Twilight is powerful, and she's already demonstrated her intelligence. But she is still only one mare."

Star frowned. "What do you mean, only one mare?"

"I sensed only one pony traversing the portal."

"But--"

Sunset tilted her head. "But what? Is there something I should know?"

Star Singer hesitated. She knew Twilight and Starlight had every intention of traversing the portal together. She doubted that Twilight would decide at the last minute to leave her behind.

She remembered back when she had first heard that not only had Starlight Glimmer supposedly been reformed, but that she was actually Twilight's apprentice. That situation had horrified her, and she had struggled to reconcile her feelings towards it. It had taken actually meeting Starlight in person to realize that she never had completely made peace with it. Star still distrusted that unicorn, and now there was every possibility Starlight was on this world alongside Twilight.

"Is she working with somepony else?" Sunset asked.

"Not that I know of," Star Singer replied in a flat voice.

Sunset's gaze lingered on Star's face for a few moments before she turned away. "I'm not going to force you to do anything, Starry. If you want to help, that would be great. If you don't, well, everything I've accomplished was without you in mind. Your help would be a boon, but there's little you can do to hinder my plans."

Star raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"I have a more personal role to play in all this," said Sunset. "It's part of my plans to ease the pain of transition for these natives. There's plenty of food and water upstairs for you. I would not try to go outside yet. It won't be safe to do that for another few days. Then you'll be able to better blend in with the transformed natives, though I'll have to hide your cutie mark at first."

"You're just going to leave me here?" Star Singer said.

Sunset turned around. "I considered casting a spell that would temporarily change you into a partially transformed native, but I don't have time to teach you how to use their appendages. Trust me, fingers and walking on only two legs takes a while to get used to."

"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Star Singer said.

"Mull over what I've told you, Starry," said Sunset in a soft voice. "I really want you to understand that this is the way forward. Ask yourself this: do I want to trust the future to ancient magic and relics that I don't understand and can't control, or do I want the assurance that comes with a pool of power from a massive pony population?"

Sunset vanished in a pop of teleportation magic.





Sarah hurried over to Laura's travel bag which had been packed several days ago. She sighed when she realized how much of it was filled with clothing that would no longer fit her daughter. She glanced behind her, where Laura struggled to adjust one of Jenny's old jeans to fit her better. Even something from when Jenny had been ten was almost too big.

Sarah's gaze flicked over her impromptu solution to Laura's new appendages. She had cut a blouse down the back and pinned it together behind Laura just under the wings.

Jenny entered the room, carrying a pair of worn sneakers in her hands. A wavy pink tail swished behind her. "Um, here you go," she said in a subdued voice.

Laura smiled faintly and took them. "Thanks." She dropped them to the floor and slid a foot into one. Her ears drooped. "They're still too big."

"They're the smallest I could find."

"Laura, try wearing an extra pair of socks," said Sarah.

"Can't we just take the car?" Laura asked.

"The first shelter they opened is in your school," said Sarah. "It's close enough to walk. They want as few cars on the streets as possible to let the state authorities through." She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Harold standing in the hall. "Assuming we're still going to the school."

"You are," said Harold. A thick blue tail emerged from the slot in the sweatpants that Sarah had altered the other day. "I just got off the phone with them. They still have space."

"Where's Eileen?"

"Talking to Bob."

Sarah's ears drew back. "I didn't want them--! All right, never mind, we need to get going."

Laura secured her sneakers -- still a bit loose even after another layer of socks -- and slowly stood. She winced as force of habit caused her to try to straighten up, and she nearly toppled. Sarah and Jenny rushed to her, but Jenny got there first and grabbed her arm, only to be batted about the head by a flurry of feathers from one of Laura's fluttering wings.

"Ack! Laura!" Jenny cried.

"Sorry," Laura said in a sheepish voice as her wings stilled. "I'm only just getting control over them."

"It's okay," Jenny said softly. "I just ... um ..."

Laura tilted her head. "Are you all right?"

"I just don't know what to say."

Laura cracked a tiny smile. "Well, that's a first for you. I'd almost welcome a comment about the Fae Queen." She added in a lower voice, "I kinda miss it, as strange as that sounds."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Jenny in a neutral voice. She looked up at Sarah. "Are you still going to stay with her?"

Sarah grabbed a coat from Laura's closet. "Yes, if they'll let me."

"Mom, I'd be fine by myself," said Laura, though her conviction was weak.

"I don't want you to be without family." Sarah glanced at the others. "Besides ... I'm ... I'm going to get the fur next, which means I'll be stooped over and will need help, too."

Harold heard the growing quaver in his wife's voice. He stepped up to her, and she immediately turned and hugged him tightly. "It'll be all right in the end, Sarah," he said gently.

Sarah wanted to say that there was no way he could know that. She feared that once she and Laura were in the shelter, they would never come out, at least not as anything human. The fact that the rest of her family would likely soon follow did not fill her with any sense of joy.

Sarah reluctantly broke off the hug. "We better get going." She turned to Laura. "Turn around, please. Um ... can you draw your wings in more?"

"I'm trying." Laura clenched her jaw as she exercised her will over the quivering masses of feathers. She managed to shrink them down against her back and sides, though they quivered with the effort. "That's the best I can do."

Sarah draped the coat over them and around Laura's shoulders. "All right, let's go."

"Um, wait," Jenny said. She stepped up to Laura. "I'm sorry about all this."

"It's not like it's your fault," said Laura softly.

"I mean all the fantasy stuff. I'm sorry if it ever made you feel bad. I didn't mean it that way."

Laura smiled. "I know."

Jenny hesitated, then gave her sister a brief hug before stepping back. "I hope to see you again soon." She glanced at her father's tail and her mother's ears. "I mean ... I hope you get better. That's what I meant."

Laura nodded once, but from the solemn looks on everyone's faces, it was obvious they were all thinking what the more likely way they would be together again.

"Let's go," Sarah said in a slightly choked voice.





"I wanted to see Laura off," said Bob.

Eileen closed the bedroom door behind her, her troubled gaze falling on her son from where he sat in front of his computer. "This is more important. Besides, you told me you never really got close to Laura or Jenny."

"That's not the point." Bob shook his head. "Never mind. What is it?"

Eileen stood with her hands behind her, still on the knob of the door. "I want to take you out of here."

Bob stared. "Mom, you can't be serious. The whole town is locked down."

"I just want to get you out of this house."

"What's the point?"

Eileen frowned and stepped forward. "You can say that after you saw Laura? She has fucking wings! Who knows what the hell else is going to happen to her!"

"I've already been exposed, regardless of whether this is caused by the flu or not. Can't you see that taking me out of the house won't change that?"

Eileen sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm your mother. It's my responsibility to take care of you."

"The Tanners have been taking excellent care of me."

"And when they get to where they can't because of this thing?"

Bob averted his eyes and remained silent.

"Maybe I haven't been the best mother to you, but this is my chance to make up for it," said Eileen.

Bob gave her a cross look. "Huh?"

"I want to wipe the slate clean. We'll use this as a means to start fixing everything that's wrong."

Bob's eyes widened. "What?"

"We can start over," said Eileen in a softer voice. "This made me realize how wrong I've been. I knew I should've settled down, pick a course for my life, and stick to it."

Bob could only stare, dumbfounded.

Eileen's smile faded. "What is it?"

Bob turned away from his mother. He leaned his head against his hand on the desk. "It took something like this to make you realize that? If none of this happened, you'd still be in Denver?"

"Does that matter?"

"It matters to me!" Bob exploded. "This wasn't the only crisis that ever happened. What about all those other times? What's so special about this one?"

"Hey, this is more serious than you having a normal illness or a broken bone!"

"You're missing the point. What makes me so important in your life right now?"

"You were always important to me. Maybe this sounds weird, but the reason I didn't take you back was because your welfare is important. I knew I couldn't handle the responsibility."

"Then what's changed now?" Bob demanded. "What makes this event so damn special that you feel you can handle it all of a sudden? Or has something else happened that I don't know about that's made your situation so much better?"

Eileen hesitated. "Well ... it'll still be touch and go for a bit, but--"

"Has anything changed?"

"Not really."

"Then why?"

"I've already answered that," said Eileen.

"No, you haven't," said Bob. "All you've done is tell me things that are obvious facts, like you being my mother."

"Isn't that enough?"

"No, because if it was, you wouldn't have sent me here in the first place."

Eileen sighed. "Is that what this is about, that you resent me sending you here? That's what I'm trying to make up for!"

Bob ran his hand through his hair and turned to face his mother fully. "I think I finally get it now. You're not here because you think you can handle raising me. You're here to make yourself feel better."

Eileen's eyes widened. "That's not ... fine, maybe that is part of my reason for being here. Can you blame me for feeling guilty about this?"

"I guess I can't," said Bob in a neutral voice. "So I absolve you of the guilt."

"I ... what??"

"Just what I said. You don't need to feel guilty. I don't resent you. I don't hate you."

Eileen remained silent for a long moment before she said in a low voice, "It doesn't work that way."

"Mom, I can't be responsible for how you feel. That's too much of a burden to put on me."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" Bob declared. "Or you wouldn't have tried to kill yourself coming here when you were still sick."

"That's what a mother is supposed--" Eileen started.

"Stop trying to prove yourself to me, it's not working!"

Eileen fell silent again, her eyes glistening.

"I'm not going with you just because now you're supermom who will brave anything to reach her son," said Bob in a lower but still tense voice. "I appreciate the gesture, but it's not going to make anything better. Really, you should've stayed in Denver."

"Is that how it is then?!" Eileen cried in a quavering voice. "You're okay with me so long as I stay away?!"

"I didn't mean that," said Bob softly.

"That's what it sounds like!"

"Mom, I would love it if you visited more often. The only reason I resisted Skyping with you was because it was a pale substitute for the real thing."

Eileen wiped her eyes. "Then why the hell are you rejecting me like this?"

"I'm not. I just meant you don't have to take care of me," said Bob. "You care about me, but you don't have to care for me."

Eileen took a deep breath and let it go as a shuddering sigh. "That's what a mother is supposed to do. That's what my damn sister has pounded into my skull every chance she gets."

"You don't have to listen to her."

"Like hell I don't," Eileen muttered. "She's the better mother, we both know that."

"Stop competing with her," Bob said. "Why do you feel you have to? You love me, you want what's best for me, and you realized what was best for me is coming here. That's what a mother does. That's what you did."

"Maybe it doesn't feel like enough," Eileen said.

"That can't be my problem, Mom."

"I thought you wanted to go back with me," said Eileen.

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

Bob paused. "If that's what made you think you had to do this, I'm sorry. It's kind of complicated why I was thinking that last week. I just don't want to see you hurt. I want you to be part of my life, but I can't be your responsibility."

"Because I can't handle it?" Eileen snapped.

Bob gave her a forlorn look. "I didn't mean--"

Eileen covered her face with her hands for a moment. "I know you didn't, I'm sorry." She stood. "I need some time alone. I need to think."

"I understand," said Bob as his mother turned away. He felt like he should say something else, but the words would not come to him. He could only watch as his mother left the room.

> Chapter 28 - Plans
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In contrast to the recent string of cold and snowy days, the sun shone warmly from a clear and bright sky as Sarah shepherded her daughter towards the school. The streets were devoid of traffic, thus little more was heard other than the tweets of birds and the drip of meltwater upon the sidewalks or along downspouts.

The coat around Laura shuddered, and Sarah grabbed it before it could slip off.

"Sorry," Laura murmured. "I'm trying to keep my wings still. It's like they don't want to remain folded. It doesn't help that I feel like I'm melting between the sun, the coat, and the feathers."

"Does it hurt at all?" Sarah asked.

"Other than feeling cramped under the coat, no." Laura hesitated before adding, "But my feet feel stiff."

"It's just the shoes and all the socks you're wearing."

"Mom, stop trying to soft-pedal it, please. I'm probably going to get freaking hooves next." Laura lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap at you."

Sarah gently threaded an arm around Laura's waist. "It's all right."

Laura frowned as her wings quivered again. "I was already trying to figure out what to do with fur, and now I have feathers. Am I expected to preen these things?"

"I'm sure they can help you with that," said Sarah, not knowing what else to say.

"I never thought the shoulder pain meant wings."

Sarah took a slow, deep breath as she recalled the petroglyphs. She rubbed her forehead as her headache tried to reassert itself.

Laura turned her head. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Sarah said quickly.

"No, you're not. Your ears are drawn back."

Sarah forced a small smile. "I guess I have as much luck controlling them as you did."

"I know this is going to be hard, but stop worrying," said Laura. "I'm complaining, but I'm not freaking out."

"I have to admit, at first I was proud of you for taking this calmly, but now I'm a little worried."

"I can't explain it, either. I know this is unnatural, but it's like I'm getting used to it. Even the wings don't seem quite as alien as they did when I first woke up. I'm just trying not to think on it too hard."

As they neared the school, National Guard soldiers became more numerous, their stance disciplined but not tense. At the entrance, soldiers searched them before ushering them through. A lab-coated technician met them inside. "Remove your coat, please, so I can see the extent of the symptoms."

Laura blushed faintly when her wings unfolded as soon as Sarah had removed the coat.

He examined the wings and made notes. "Is this as far as you can stand up straight?"

"Yes," said Laura. "It feels like it's getting worse."

The technician nodded, made another note, and turned to Sarah. "Are you incapacitated, ma'am?"

"Well, no, not quite," said Sarah.

"We're giving priority to those with more advanced symptoms."

"I'm her mother. I don't want her to be alone."

"Yes, I realize that, ma'am," said the technician. "We're making exceptions for small children, but we have limited--"

"I'm going to have to come back again in a few days, and I didn't want to have to go to a different shelter."

"We'll try to reunite you with her afterward, ma'am, but right now, we're filling up fast."

A familiar female voice sounded from behind the technician. "Laura, is that you?"

Laura's ears perked up. She smiled and looked past the technician. "Sunny! Hi! Are you--"

Sarah suddenly gasped.

Laura's eyes widened. "Oh, my God, Sunny, is that--??"

Sadie placed a fresh cup of coffee on the technician's desk before smiling and pointing to her horn. "Just call me Sunny the Unicorn, I guess."

The technician sighed. "Miss Sommers, please, shouldn't you be inside?"

"Hey, I begged for the privilege of volunteering to help for as long as I can move around," said Sadie. "Unless you want to go the rest of the day without coffee."

Sarah swallowed hard as she stared at Sadie's forehead before slowly rubbing her own.

The technician glanced at Sarah. "I just don't want to scare people any more than they already are."

"I'm not scared," said Sarah stiffly. She forced a small smile and nodded to Sadie. "It's nice to see you again. Maybe you can help convince him to let me stay with Laura."

"I'm really sorry, but I don't have quite that much influence," said Sadie. "But if it helps any, I'm not just a worker here, I'm an inmate as well."

"Must you refer to yourself as an inmate?" the technician muttered.

"You have absolutely no sense of humor," Sadie scoffed. "Anyway, as I was saying, I can keep an eye on Laura if you like."

Laura spun around to face her mother, her wings flaring out, forcing the technician to back away to avoid a face full of feathers. "Mom, I'll be all right. I really like Sunny, and he said they'll reunite us."

"We'll try," the technician emphasized.

Sarah was momentarily distracted, as this was the first time she had seen the full spread of her daughter's wings. Why did they suddenly seem so normal for a moment? "I guess I don't have any choice."

"We're doing the best we can considering the circumstances," said the technician.

Sarah nodded. "I know." Her eyes glistened as she hugged her daughter tightly. 

Laura smiled and ducked her head, the warmth of her mother's body sending a wave of relaxation through her. "I'll be fine, Mom."

Sarah also felt a sense of contentment that managed to blunt some of her worry. She even smiled at Laura as they broke off the embrace.

"Miss Tanner, after you get settled in, please report to one of the physicians," said the technician. "They'll give you a basic physical and ask you questions about your symptoms."

"All right," said Laura as she refolded her wings.

"I'll show her the way," said Sadie, holding out her hand.

Laura smiled as she took Sadie's hand. She turned and gave her mother a hopeful look before being led away.





"We would have had to come here during winter," Starlight grumbled as they plodded through the snow.

"It's more like early spring, I think," said Twilight. "We're just at a higher elevation."

"I'd rather it be summer like it was back in Equestria."

"We can't expect the time of year to line up perfectly."

Starlight glanced up and squinted at the sun. "Or time of day. It was late afternoon when we left." Starlight pointed a hoof off to the side. "If that direction is east, I don't think it's quite midday yet. We're going to be exhausted before nightfall."

Twilight sighed. "I know, it's going to be slow going at first. Perhaps at dusk I can fly up and get the lay of the land better. I'd be less likely to be spotted then."

"Wouldn't they just mistake you for a bird?" Starlight asked.

"It depends on whether any natives have completely transformed yet," said Twilight. "It's hard to tell from this distance." Her ears swiveled. "I'm hearing flowing water. We should go that way and see if it's safe to drink in case we need to replenish our supplies."

"I really don't want to be on this world that long," said Starlight as she followed.

"I know, but if these natives don't have control over their weather, their settlements would be near water, like the ancient pony tribes before they learned to use magic." Twilight smiled faintly. "Besides, I'm trying to treat this as an opportunity to learn about a new world."

"You just want to do some grand Princess-of-Frienshipy-thing."

"No matter what the outcome, there's going to be a lot of fallout," said Twilight. "I'm going to do everything in my power to establish peaceful diplomatic relations with this world." She paused before adding in a more solemn voice. "I need something to look forward to."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Is it me, or did your enthusiasm for this lark start taking a nosedive?"

Twilight lowered her gaze. "Starlight, I'm not seeing a lot of hope right now of convincing my aunt that she's wrong. You heard how adamant she was about pursuing this, even in light of the fact that Equestria is alive and well."

"I have to admit, it's kinda scary how much Sunset is like me," said Starlight. "Or the way I used to be. I started having misgivings about what I was doing before we got to that wasteland timeline. I just couldn't look beyond the end of my own muzzle. I had the 'right' solution, and nopony was going to tell me otherwise. I don't even have the luxury of falling back on some 'noble' purpose like Sunset thinks she does."

Twilight remained silent for a long moment before finally shaking her head. "All right, enough moping, we need to focus. We need to use this time to keep working on unraveling Aunt Sunset's transformation research."

"I kinda got to a dead end on that after talking to Derpy," said Starlight.

"I've been thinking about that. Did Derpy give you any more explanation about that object that Aunt Sunset placed in her room when she was transforming?"

"Not past the vague description she gave me. I didn't really think anything of it at the time. Just something to calm her down. Why?"

"I keep thinking that whatever she placed in Derpy's room, it had something to do with the transformation itself," said Twilight.

"Well, what would be 'glowy, sparkly, and crystally' that could possibly have anything to do with this?"

Twilight looked thoughtful for a few moments before she suddenly exclaimed, "A mana battery!"

Starlight blinked. "Huh? You mean like the ones you hooked up to the portal?"

"Yes! What Derpy described is how such a device would appear to somepony not versed in high magic. Remember how we were wondering where all that excess magic was going until the transformation started? What if Aunt Sunset had placed a mana battery in the room for that purpose?"

Starlight slowly nodded. "Okay, I follow you that far, but how would that be practical on a larger scale? I think the natives would notice if these odd devices started popping up everywhere."

"That would be the next part of the puzzle we need to solve," said Twilight.

After navigating a steep embankment via Twilight's wings and Starlight's self-levitation spell, they came upon a stream. On the other side was the edge of thick evergreen woods. Twilight dipped her head towards the water, her horn glowing. "There's some trace minerals and a few chemicals I can't immediately identify, but nothing I couldn't strip away with a purification spell if needed. It should also take care of pathogens, though they're likely incompatible with our biology anyway."

"Water is water," said Starlight. "I'd be more concerned about finding something edible if ..." She trailed off and averted her gaze as she sniffed the air. She took a few steps away from the stream. "Twilight, I smell something funny."

Twilight lifted her head. "Yes, so do I. It smells vaguely like something burning, but there's another odor I can't quite place."

Starlight sniffed again. "It's already starting to fade." She thrust a forehoof towards the southeast. "But I think it came from that way. Should we follow it?"

"That will take us out of our way," said Twilight. "We need to be going northeast, assuming the compass spell I cast earlier worked properly and I determined magnetic north correctly."

"You said the native settlements may be in more level terrain," said Starlight. "Couldn't that burning be from a fireplace in a town?"

"That didn't smell like wood smoke," said Twilight. "More like some other sort of combustion. Still, I see your point."

Starlight shivered. "If it'll take us more downhill so we have a better chance of getting out of the cold and snow, I'm all for that. Let's go."





Laura almost didn't recognize the auditorium of her own school. The room had been bisected by prefabricated walls, the kind that were often used to partition offices into cubicles, in order to separate the residents by gender. The floor was lined with ranks of camping bedrolls, and at once Laura understood it would be dormitory-style for the foreseeable future. Near the stage was a common area where white-coated physicians performed examinations and conducted interviews.

"Looks like it might get a bit crowded," said Sadie.

Laura's eyes widened as she gazed at those who had already settled in. Some sported wings like her, others horns like Sadie. A distinct majority had neither, but most had the ears and fur. One notable exception was a middle-aged woman with no more advanced symptoms than cherry-red hair and the beginnings of a tail, but she clung to a little girl of seven or eight who had orange hair just slightly darker than Laura's, red-pink fur, and small, fluttering wings.

Laura smiled faintly. "When I was a kid, I drove my Mom nuts on camping trips. I just had to have my own tent."

"And now?" Sadie prompted.

"Now I don't mind it as much. I'm not sure why."

Sadie smiled. "Maybe just knowing there's more people like you."

Laura nodded slowly. "I guess that's part of it. I won't feel so much like everypony is staring at me." She hesitated. "Um, did I just say ...?"

"It's happening to me, too," said Sadie. "And I've heard other people doing it sometimes."

"That's really weird, but I guess there's nothing about this that isn't."

"Do you think you'll be okay from here for a bit?" said Sadie. "I want to check on a few things before I settle in myself."

Laura glanced towards the stage. She had hoped to spot Doctor Conner among them, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

She returned her gaze to the residents. Many were gathered in groups of two or three. Some were idly playing games on their cell phones or reading books. Others were napping.

"Is it just me, or does everyone seem really calm?" Laura asked.

"If I had enough of an inflated ego, I would say it was due to my fantastic talents," said Sadie with a grin.

Laura giggled. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"I take that as a huge compliment, Laura, thank you. Modesty forces me to shrug my shoulders and puzzle over it as much as you are. I'm just grateful for it, as I'm sure the physicians and soldiers are."

A physician freed up and gestured for Laura to come over.

Laura took a deep breath. "I better get on with this."

"I'll see you later, Laura," said Sadie. "I promise."

The examination didn't take long. If anything, it was a replay of the questions the technician at the entrance had asked. The only thing he did differently was draw some blood and take samples of her hair, fur, and feathers. She didn't care for that last sample, as he had simply yanked a feather out, which hurt more than she thought it would. The feather had come away with a dot of blood on the tip of the stem.

"Sorry about that, miss," the physician said. "We're still understanding how the, uh, wing anatomy works. I thought that one might be ready to come out on its own."

Laura forced a small smile. "It's fine. Are we done?"

"Yes. Take any free spot. We ask that you please keep the volume on your electronics down so you can more easily hear any announcements."

Laura nodded before heading away.

Had this been a week ago, her first instinct would have been to find a bedroll that was as far removed from everyone else as possible so she could at least enjoy some time apart before the place filled up. Her gaze did indeed linger on a spot at the end of one row, until she caught sight of someone who looked oddly familiar.

A girl sat with her purple-furred legs tucked under her, a thick tail of bright red hair curled to the side, an e-book reader in her hands. A closer look revealed a single stripe each of orange and pink maintaining an impossibly straight path through the red. Purple-feathered wings with red tips lay folded against her back and sides.

What caught Laura's attention the most was her clothing. The jeans had been neatly altered to fit her smaller stature and allow her tail to comfortably escape, and her blouse had been fit to accommodate her wings.

Laura remembered. She was the girl Laura had seen that day of the assembly at school, the one she had admired for her sewing prowess.

She had not realized she had taken a few steps closer to the girl until the girl's ears swiveled towards her. The girl lifted her head, revealing two magenta eyes. She tilted her head slightly. "You're Laura Tanner, right?"

Laura hesitated before nodding. "How did you know?"

The girl smiled. "You kidding? Lotsa people know you at school."

Laura thought back to the conversation she had with Tina right before they reached Preacher's Corner. "Oh, um, right."

"My name's Emma," said the girl. "Looking for a spot?"

"Yeah, I just got here." She glanced at the roll next to Emma. "This one taken?"

"Nope, it's all yours."

Laura nodded and set down her travel bag. She winced as her foot bent in a way it really did not want to go as she tried to sit down. "Ugh, I'm just going to have to take these off," she said as she reached for a sneaker.

Emma gestured to her bare feet, which lay slightly bent at the ball of the foot. "That's what I did. I can't get them to lay flat on the floor when I stand, like I'm walking on tip-toes all the time."

"You know what that means, right?" Laura said in a slightly quavering voice.

"Yeah, I know," said Emma softly. "I'm trying not to worry about it."

Laura pulled off her shoes and socks. She wiggled her toes and found they were stiffer than they had been earlier. "Um, so, how do you already know me?"

Emma smiled. "Remember back when they had the election for class president?"

Laura nodded. "My friend Tina had bugged me about running. I didn't, though."

"That didn't stop a lot of people from writing your name in anyway."

Laura's eyes widened. "They did?"

Emma chuckled. "The Principal wasn't happy about it, but, yeah." She paused. "You were also the first one brave enough to put pics of your tail on the internet."

Laura blushed. "Tina convinced me to do that."

"Still, you did it. It sorta opened the floodgates. There was no way it would be suppressed after that."

"You sound a little like Tina," said Laura. "She started talking about cover-ups and whatnot. Do you really think there was one going on?"

Emma glanced around before leaning closer. "The rumor going around is that the powers-that-be running this show think someone did this to us on purpose."

Laura stared. "But who would do it? And how?"

Emma shrugged. "Maybe the government knows, but they're not telling us. Or maybe they're as clueless as we are. I have to admit, I'd rather there be some sort of purpose behind this than just some stupid random thing." Emma grinned faintly and extended her wings. "Hey, who knows? Maybe these things will actually work."

Laura had not even given the idea any thought, but now it sounded perfectly natural. At the same time, she would expect Bob the science nerd to go on about wing-to-weight ratios being wrong.

She unfolded her wings and gave them an experimental flex, only to have the tip of one wing bump into Emma's wing. "Oops, sorry."

Emma folded her wings. "No worries. I just think it's weird that they'd be useless if I can already move these things pretty smoothly after just getting them this morning."

Laura slowly smiled. "Maybe you're right."

Emma glanced behind Laura. "Not a bad job making that blouse fit."

"Oh, it's nowhere near as good as what you did," said Laura.

Emma smiled. "Thanks. I'd offer to touch it up for you, but they took my sewing kit away from me when I arrived. Sharp objects apparently make them nervous. I have to admit, I was a little upset at that. I rather like sewing and ... um ..." She trailed off. "Well, you don't want to hear my life story."

"No, please, continue," said Laura. "I'd like to hear it."

"Only if you tell me yours, too."

"Sure, I can do that," said Laura.





Eileen sat on the back deck of the Tanner house, smoke curling from the tip of her half-finished cigarette. She had largely kicked the habit about a year ago, but she kept a pack on hand for "emergencies" like this, when it was either have a smoke or scream until her throat was raw.

She heard the patio door slide open slightly behind her and Jenny's tentative voice say, "Aunt Eileen?"

Eileen took a drag from her cigarette and flicked ashes into the tray on the patio table. Without turning around, she muttered, "Surprised that Harry's letting anyone in the family talk to me."

"He's on the phone in the office," said Jenny. "Still trying to get his father some help on the farm."

Eileen just grunted and nodded.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny.

"Sorry for what?"

"Telling my parents you were coming."

Eileen paused for a long moment. "No, you probably did the right thing. I'm sure Sarah told you that, certainly."

"Bob had already told them you had talked to him, so it wasn't really that much of a surprise."

Eileen finally turned around in her chair. "You want to come out on the deck? I don't bite." She held up the cigarette. "I'll put this out if it bothers you."

Jenny shook her head and stepped forward.

Eileen tilted her head. Pink hair flowed behind Jenny to nearly the backs of her knees. "Is it me, or is that tail longer than it was when I saw it earlier?"

"It's longer," said Jenny in a low voice. "It's almost full length. It got there faster than Laura's."

"I saw your Dad's tail," Eileen said in a subdued voice. "Didn't think blue was really his color, but what do I know?"

Jenny hesitated. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yeah, I guess I am, but that's my problem."

"I really did enjoy our Skype calls together."

One corner of Eileen's mouth rose. "You've got a fantastic imagination."

Jenny swallowed. "No, I don't."

"Huh?"

Jenny shook her head. "Never mind. It's not important. I wanted to ask you something."

Eileen took a quick drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke in the opposite direction of Jenny. "Can't be anything worse that what Sarah's grilled me about. What is it?"

"Do you remember my parents telling you about anything that happened to me when I was five?"

Eileen's eyebrows rose. "Making me remember that far back is a tall order, kid. You want to give me a hint?"

"Did they ever say anything to you about really bad weather? About a big storm?"

"Yeah, now I remember," Eileen said. "But mostly because Bob had been sick at the time. Sarah did say something about being worried about you and Laura. A tornado came through your block, right?"

Jenny nodded. "Did they say anything about me?"

"Just that they were glad you and your sister were safe. You certainly seemed so about a couple of months later." Eileen grinned. "I should've remembered that incident better, since it happened right before that time I came over for Bob's birthday. That was the first time I heard one of your fantastic stories."

Jenny's eyes widened. "The first time? Do you remember what that first story was?"

Eileen leaned back in her seat. "Hmm. Something about a powerful wizard who had the power to change the weather with a wave of his hands."

Jenny shuddered.

"He had an apprentice," Eileen continued. "But she was inept or something like that."

"She?"

"I think it was female. I might be misremembering. I figured you'd remember it better than I did."

"I don't ..." Jenny began, trailing off almost at once. "What else do you remember?"

"Just that the apprentice failed at some grand task, and he banished her or something like that." Eileen paused and leaned forward. "You okay?"

Jenny bit her lip and nodded quickly, her eyes glistening. "I better get going, Mom wanted me to finish packing. See you later."

"Sure, see you," said Eileen, though Jenny had already fled in a flicker of pink tail.





"Starlight, we found a road!" Twilight cried excitedly from up ahead.

Starlight galloped to catch up. "Will you not teleport unexpectedly like that?"

"Sorry, but I was too excited!"

Starlight stepped up to where Twilight stood at the edge of the trees. Before them, a flat and winding ribbon of packed dirt and snow stretched to the east and west.

"If we follow this, I'm sure it will take us over less rough terrain," said Twilight. "Even with magic, we still build roads and railroad tracks in Equestria over the path of least resistance when going through mountains."

Starlight stepped onto the flattened earth and looked down at a set of tracks worn into the ground. Each was almost as wide as her fore-hoof, and pot-marked with a repeating zig-zag pattern. "Uh, these don't look like any sort of carriage wheel tracks to me."

Twilight stepped up to her. "Well, of course not. They likely have different needs than us given they have no magic. They need to use technology to do the work for them."

"All right, so we follow it--" Starlight glanced to the east and pointed. "--this way?"

"That's the general direction we want to go, so--"

Starlight's ears rose. "I hear a strange noise coming this way."

Twilight's eyes widened. "So do I. Let's hide in the shadow of the trees."

The two ponies galloped back to the woods. Starlight turned her head towards the west as the sound rose in volume. Her mouth dropped open. "What the hay is that??"

A box-like metal object with four large, thick wheels labored around the bend as it rolled into view. It was taller in the middle and the back than the front, and the two glassy "eyes" pointed forward seemed to mimic a face, though the shiny metal grille and a small plate with lettering on it in between broke the illusion quickly. It kept to the far side of the road as it passed, a low growling noise emanating from the forward part of the vehicle. Its wheels threw up bits of dirt and snow behind it as it sped by, a metal tube affixed to the rear underside of the vehicle puffing faintly.

As it disappeared around another bend, Starlight took a step back out onto the road. "I thought you said the natives didn't have magic!"

Twilight cautiously stepped beside her. "I didn't sense any as it passed."

"But that carriage was moving all by itself. Nopony was pulling it."

"Starlight, we have trains that do the same thing."

"Yes, running on steam power. Where did you see a smokestack on that thing?"

Twilight considered. "The little pipe in the back?" She sniffed the air. "Oh, of course! Do you smell that?"

Starlight wrinkled her muzzle. "Kinda hard not to. It's not exactly pleasant."

"But it is some sort of combustion product," said Twilight. "They must have figured out a means other than steam power to run their civilization. This is extraordinary! They've progressed quite far since last contact. I can only imagine what other marvels they've come up with."

Starlight frowned. "Twilight, please focus. We're here to deal with Sunset Shimmer, not act as tourists."

"I am focusing, Starlight," said Twilight. "You can't deny that if we got our hooves on a similar conveyance, we can likely get there much faster."

"And choke on those noxious fumes? No, thanks."

"It stands to reason that the driver would be protected from it."

"Unless these natives can breathe it themselves as good as air."

"A very outside possibility," said Twilight. "Highly unlikely. The fact of the matter is, this road will probably join up with a settlement somewhere. Since we're already getting tired, our best bet would be to follow this road as far as we can and find someplace safe to camp for the night."

Starlight headed back to the trees. "Not to mention I'm getting hungry. It's likely dinnertime back home."

Twilight followed. "Let's get a little further along before we break out the rations."





When the call picked up at the other end, Harold heard nothing but coughing for a few seconds until finally his sister's tired voice came on. "Hey, li'l bro, you doing okay?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," said Harold.

"All I've got is the flu," said Mary. "You've got bigger problems."

Harold pulled his tail aside and dropped into his chair. "Yeah, I know."

"I heard what you were trying to do for Dad," said Mary.

"Not that I had much luck at it."

"But you tried, that's what matters, and I made sure that old goat knew you had."

"Did it make any difference?"

Mary hesitated. "I don't know, he's been incommunicado for the past day or two."

Harold's heart lurched. "Is he all right?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

Harold frowned. "What are you not telling me?"

"Things are going a little nuts here, bro," said Mary. "Remember that dude I told you about with the weird hair? Well, more people like that are popping up left and right. I think Dad may have retreated into the bunker, so to speak. A lot of the ranchers around here and up near Grand Junction are doing the same. I've seen them patrolling their land armed with shotguns, like they're expecting things to go south real fast."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "I hadn't heard of any of this on the news."

"Things are going too fast for the news to catch up, I'd say," said Mary, her words breaking up into a spasm of coughing. "Most of them are focused on your neck of the woods, and on the flu."

"I tried calling Dad, but he didn't pick up," said Harold in a morose voice.

"I don't know what his problem is this time, bro, I'm sorry," said Mary. "Other than maybe he's just plain scared of what's going on and won't admit it."

Harold covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. "How scared are you?"

"Terrified," said Mary in a deadpan voice. "They keep saying they contained whatever the hell this is. It's not looking contained to me, or to anyone else with half a brain. And the pictures that are coming out on the internet now are fucking surreal."

Harold turned his head when he heard the front door open. "What the hell?"

"What's wrong?" Mary asked.

Harold stood. "Sorry, I think Sarah came home unexpectedly. Long story, can I call you back?"

"Take as long as you need," said Mary. "Your immediate family is more important."

Harold wanted to protest that he still considered his sister and father immediate family but didn't have the time or energy to belabor the point. He mumbled a goodbye before hanging up and heading out of the office. "Sarah? What's going on?"

Sarah threw her travel bag onto the sofa. "They didn't let me stay with her, dammit! Said my symptoms weren't 'advanced' enough."

"You left Laura there?"

"I had no choice!" Sarah cried. "This is what she wanted, remember? She wanted to do something to contribute to helping figure this out. Besides, Sunny was there and said she'd look after her."

Harold relaxed a bit. "So what now?"

Sarah glanced around. "Where's everyone?"

"Eileen's sulking on the deck," said Harold. "Bob and Jenny are in their rooms."

"Do you have any idea what my sister and Bob talked about?"

Harold shook his head. "Bob won't talk about it, and Eileen told me in so many words that it's none of my goddamned business."

Halfway through his response, he had heard the patio door slide open, but didn't bother mincing his words. "It still isn't any of your business," Eileen muttered. "But you can both stop worrying. Bob pretty much told me to fuck off."

Sarah folded her arms. "I doubt very much that's what he said."

"The details don't matter," Eileen snapped. "It amounted to that in the end. You really did raise him to be your son and not mine."

"I would never have told him to say anything like that to you."

"Yeah, maybe not in so many words."

Sarah's ears drew back. "Not in any words! I never said anything openly disparaging about you if I knew he was in earshot. I let him decide for himself what he felt about you."

Eileen hesitated before looking at Harold. "What about you? Were you the same paragon of restraint?"

"I tended not to say anything at all about you," Harold said in a level voice.

Eileen smirked. "If you can't say something nice, right?"

"I'm not going to force you to tell us what you and Bob talked about," said Sarah in a lower voice. "If Bob feels he needs to share it, he will. He knows this family supports him."

Eileen stepped up to Sarah. "Tell me something, sis. What if none of this pony shit was happening, and Bob did want to go back with me? What would you have done?"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

Sarah sighed and turned away. "His wishes are important, but they're not the only thing that matters." She reached down to pick up her travel bag, and her wedding ring slipped off her finger and bounced about on the carpet. "Dammit," she grunted as she leaned over to pick it up.

Harold's eyebrows rose. The legs of Sarah's jeans pulled up slightly when she bent over, revealing a sliver of orange. "Sarah?"

Sarah retrieved the ring and whirled around. "What?"

"You have the fur already?"

Sarah stared. "I ... what??" She sat down and tugged a pant leg up. A ring of orange fur about two inches wide circled her calf just above the ankle. "That wasn't there when I woke up," she said in a hollow voice.

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

Sarah looked up. "Harry, turn around."

Harold frowned. "You're not going to see anything more than you already have."

"Do as I say!"

Harold reluctantly turned, his tail swishing once.

"It's as long as it was last night," said Sarah. "That means it reached its full length the day you got it! It took longer for Laura. What about your ears?"

"Buzzing like crazy," said Harold as he turned back around.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Is this accelerating??"

"Um, it might be," said Bob's soft voice from the stairs.

Eileen spun around. "Bob? What did you mean by that?"

Bob frowned. "I'll explain only if you won't freak out."

"Bob, what is it?" Harold said before Eileen could respond.

Bob hesitated before descending the rest of the stairs. "It's started with me now."

Eileen's eyes widened. "What are you ..."

Bob turned around. A band of sea-green streaked down the back of his head.

Eileen gave Bob a stricken look.

"I had calculated Wednesday as the earliest it would start with me," said Bob. "It's two days early."

Sarah bolted from the sofa and pulled Bob into a hug. "Bob, I'm so sorry, I was really hoping you'd be spared this."

Bob closed his eyes. "Maybe this is for the best."

Eileen frowned. "For the best? How can you even say that?!"

"Eileen, that's enough," Harold said.

"No, shut the fuck up, Harry!" Eileen looked at Bob. "This is exactly what I was trying to prevent! This is what I didn't want to have happen! Maybe if everyone would stop treating me like a goddamn pariah, I could've stopped this!"

"Stop yelling at your son!" Sarah hissed, her ears flattened against her head.

"I'm not! I'm just--"

"Yes, you are. Just, please, stop it."

Eileen stared at her son's glistening eyes. "I ... I'm not mad at you."

"Yes, you are," Bob said in a quavering voice. "You think I rejected you."

Eileen swallowed hard.

"I didn't. You just have to get over the fact that you can't do anything for me."

Eileen let out a ragged breath. "I'm sorry," she muttered as she turned away and dropped heavily onto the sofa. She lowered her face into her hands. "I just don't know what to do."

"Welcome to the club," Harold said.





Star Singer turned her head when a flash of light behind her announced Sunset's return. Star turned around just as Sunset approached and said, "I finally had some free time and decided to see if you were doing okay."

Star raised an eyebrow. "You almost sound like you're truly concerned about me."

"Of course I am," said Sunset. "I still want us to be friends."

"And no demands on my progress?"

"When I said you have a choice as to whether you help me or not, I meant it. I'm not forcing you to do anything. That's not how friends operate."

Star's expression softened slightly. She turned her gaze towards the apparatus. "I've been struggling with what to do since you left."

Sunset smiled faintly. "I'll take that to mean you don't necessarily think of me as some evil monster."

Star stepped up to the apparatus. "It's taken me years to come to terms with how my life turned out. That was shattered the instant Princess Celestia released me from the memory suppression spell."

Sunset approached her. "You were deceived, Starry, by a pony who once claimed to wield a magical artifact that embodied everything she wanted from her subjects. It's little wonder she lost her connection to them."

Star jerked her head towards Sunset. "You know about that?"

"I gleaned a lot more about the Elements of Harmony when I scanned Discord than perhaps I let on."

Star frowned. "You seem to be good at hiding what you know."

"I may not be the only one in this room who's doing that," said Sunset. "I'm sure you've been speaking with Twily at length before you came here."

"You want to know how much she's figured out about how your transformation spell works."

"It would be nice to be informed of such, yes," said Sunset. "But again, I'm not going to force you to divulge it." She paused before adding in a more contrite voice, "I want to apologize for getting upset earlier when I heard about Celestia's memory spell."

Star nodded. "From what I heard, you're not the only one upset at this situation."

Sunset glanced at the apparatus. "I am wondering if--"

"Yes, I did look at it," said Star. "I was too curious not to, and you didn't exactly leave me with a lot of things to do here."

"And?"

Star's horn glowed as she examined the energies flowing through the crystal lattice. "This is a new biology to me, Sunny, and it's been a while since I've done this sort of thing. You likely have more advanced knowledge of these natives than I do. Even if I were ready to help you, it's going to take me time."

"Yet any observations you have so far would be of interest."

Star had discovered something, but had no idea whether she should voice it. That she could even contemplate doing anything to help Sunset made her question her own convictions. Perhaps she had placed too much hope that a short conversation would fix everything. She had wanted to help not so much for any sense of what was right as for expediency; Sunset was a part of her life she wanted to be over with, as it and her "talent" had caused her nothing but grief for two decades.

Sunset uttered a soft sigh as she turned away. "Keep it to yourself for now if you must."

Star whirled around. "I don't want to! I wish ... I wish this were twenty years ago, when you would've had me on board if you had only told me what you were planning to do. Maybe you still would've had to convince me, but I looked up to you. I idolized you. Instead, all you told me were vague ideas about exploring another world for potential colonization. All I saw was you abandoning Equestria!"

"I've made mistakes," Sunset said softly. "I won't deny that. I should've taken you into my confidence."

"Instead, you made it look like I was your minion. I was even accused of helping you fake your death."

"I'm truly sorry."

Star's eyes shimmered. "I want to believe that."

"Starry, you spoke of what I'm doing as wrong," said Sunset. "I will be the first to admit that I have done ... unsavory things to accomplish this goal. I've tried hard to minimize the number of beings I hurt. I modified the virus to eliminate casualties. I crafted the transformation spell such that it helps keep those affected calm as it progresses further."

"And that makes you think you can Ascend?"

Sunset raised an eyebrow.

Star turned more fully towards her friend. "Twilight told me you thought transforming the griffons into ponies would earn you Ascension."

Sunset was quiet for a long moment. "Maybe it would have. Maybe my work here will trigger it. It's not important. Why are you even bringing it up?"

Star narrowed her eyes. "I want to understand every facet of your motivations, Sunny."

"If I yearn to be an alicorn at all, it's only to facilitate my plans," said Sunset. "I expect there to be a period of turmoil before a stable worldwide pony society is in place. It's a daunting task, and if I could become a Princess to better lead them into that future, so much the better."

"You would rule over them?" Star asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Sunset gave her friend and small, humorless smile. "Do you want to know how much it hurts that Celestia made everypony forget about me? Before that, I was willing to set our differences aside. If I had become a Princess, and Celestia had found me and asked me to give up this world into her realm, I would have done it. In a heartbeat."

Star remained silent.

"This isn't about me, Starry."

"What about now?"

"Pardon?"

"You just spoke about what would have happened had you not felt that Princess Celestia betrayed you," declared Star. "What about now?"

Sunset took a slow, deep breath. "I'm very angry with her, but I wouldn't hurt her, if that's what you're worried about. Nor would I depose her. I would simply provide Equestria with whatever magic it needed in times of crisis." After a pause, she added, "Celestia wouldn't even have to thank me for it."

Star was silent again as she stared at the apparatus.

"What about your motivations, Starry?" Sunset asked.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Why did you really come here? You didn't have to."

Star frowned. "I wanted to finally have a use. My so-called talent brought me nothing but grief. If I thought I could help stop you, I--"

"Or perhaps you thought you might rekindle that old purpose."

"That ship sailed twenty years ago."

"Yes, it did," said Sunset. "And now it's coming into port. You can be there to greet it."

Star narrowed her gaze but said nothing.

"Starry, this is the payoff. This is your talent vindicated. When I'm finished here, whatever dark forces you see will be little more than bits of paper in a hurricane. Your talent will have helped protect ponykind forever."

Twenty years of resentment over a talent that warned nopony and was eventually rendered useless by a bunch of strangers wielding artifacts that she still only barely understood boiled up in Star's mind despite her attempts to suppress it. They forced her to ask the question she had been desperately trying to avoid: what if Sunset were right?

"Why did you come here, Starry?" Sunset asked softly.

"I-I don't know," Star said in a low voice.

Sunset turned away from the apparatus. "I have to head back to the shelter for the night. Sleep on it, and let's talk more before dawn."

Star looked up. "About what?"

Sunset smiled. "My plans. I'll tell you everything. Nothing held back. We'll get everything out in the open, and you can decide for yourself. All I ask is that you don't make a decision before then."

Star took a deep breath. "You're asking a lot of me, Sunny."

"I know," said Sunset in a soft voice. "But I'm hoping you will believe it's all worth it in the end."





The western skies glowed a deep red behind Twilight as she hovered high in the air above the campsite that she and Starlight had set up some distance from the confluence of the dirt road they had been following and a paved road which ran roughly north-south. She tucked her legs against her body as much as she could, and a spell kept her tail fanned out in hopes of looking more avian than equine. She further hoped her dark coloration would be just a black silhouette against the brighter sky.

Her efforts to remain incognito were a double-edged sword; while it better masked her identity, it made it harder for her to see details in the landscape. Fortunately, she had correctly guessed that she would be able to spot the lights of the natives' domiciles. Even better, the natives' vehicles had lights as well, and they helped outline where the major roads were located.

Satisfied, she winged her way downward. The campsite was invisible to her eyes but not her magical senses, at least until she passed through the edge of the illusion spell that would hide their presence. Instead of a campsite, any natives nearby would see a bunch of fallen logs blocking the way.

Upon landing, she was welcomed by the radiant warmth of the smokeless campfire. "That's perfect, Starlight. I was concerned the natives would see or smell any smoke."

"Thank Trixie for that," Starlight said as she set out the bedrolls. "When it was starting to look like we were going universe-hopping, I had her send me a few things we could use."

Twilight yawned as she sat on her haunches by the fire. She stretched her wings to warm them better. "I've been able to plot a potential path for tomorrow."

"So what's the plan?" Starlight asked.

Twilight took a deep breath. "We're going to find the closest settlement and try to contact the authorities there."

Starlight cast some further wards at the edges of the campsite before joining Twilight. "I thought you were the one who didn't want to shock the natives."

"Being too cautious is going to delay us," Twilight said.

Starlight frowned. "What if they lock us up when we can't communicate with them?"

"I have a translation spell."

"Yeah, but it relied on first gaining somepony's confidence with your knowledge of Latin and Greek so they'd willingly submit to it," said Starlight. "In all the signs we saw along the roads, I didn't see either of those languages."

Twilight turned towards Starlight. "Then we may need a more direct approach."

"You have anything in mind?"

"Yes. If I can't get a native to understand me, you'll need to cast a mind magic spell on them."

Starlight stared. "Did ... did I just hear you right?"

"It's not the first impression I care to make," said Twilight in a heavy voice. "And it's only as an absolute last resort. But hearing Aunt Sunset earlier made me realize that you were right to worry that perhaps my judgment had been a bit clouded concerning her."

"I'm sure it must've been something of a shock," Starlight said gently.

"I never thought -- or more likely didn't want to believe -- that she'd be so ... so ruthless."

"Like I was," Starlight deadpanned.

"Yes. Was." Twilight stood and turned towards Starlight. "The point is, just our journey today has convinced me that we can't stop Aunt Sunset ourselves without taking such a long time that it won't matter in the end."

"And you think you can convince the natives we want to help?" Starlight asked.

"I take my title as Princess of Friendship seriously," said Twilight in a soft voice. "Being among aliens doesn't change that. That's our advantage, Starlight. We understand that friendship works, that it can be used to solve seemingly insurmountable problems."

Starlight smiled faintly. "Let's just hope the natives believe that, too."

> Chapter 29 - Questions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset levitated the tray onto the table between her and Star Singer, steam rising from both the omelettes and mugs of coffee. "You'll forgive me if I can't reproduce authentic Equestrian dishes for you, but I assure you it is quite edible. Their version of coffee is noticeably more bitter, but it should be palatable."

Star Singer had become more of a tea drinker in recent years, but she decided not to question Sunset's hospitality. With the coming dawn barely a glimmer in the dark morning sky, she could use something to wake her up.

Sunset sat across from Star. "I could start from the very beginning, but that would be boring. I'd rather answer your burning questions first."

"All right," said Star. "Because I have a doozy of one. You keep talking about how you did this to ensure that ponykind always has enough magic. Just how are you going to get all that magic to Equestria? Send ponies through the portal? Maybe there's a lot of frontier that has yet to be settled, but not enough for billions."

"Such a plan would indeed be impractical," said Sunset. "I plan to build a permanent energy conduit between this world and Equestria."

Star raised an eyebrow. "You mean like a portal, but larger?"

"Not quite. Do you know anything about the theory behind naturally occurring portals?"

"Not a whole lot."

"Starswirl the Bearded postulated the existence of a multitude of universes, and that there is a single source of all magic," Sunset explained. "When these connections overlap, they can temporarily bridge two universes. In my research to create an artificial portal, I proved Starswirl correct. I intend to carry this further, to create a conduit similar to the one that links a universe to the source, except between two universes to allow them to share magical energy freely."

Star paused halfway through chewing. "Uh, that's a lot of energy."

"Energy would flow between the worlds only as needed."

"I don't mean that," Star said. "I've seen the setup Twilight created to manipulate your portal. It takes a lot of power just to keep the entrance stable."

"I'm close to crafting an enchantment that will create a self-maintaining portal. All it requires is a pair of thaumically entangled objects with a sufficiently large plane to serve as an entrance manifold." Sunset smiled. "I'm thinking of using mirrors, if for no other reason than the native culture is rife with stories of 'magic mirrors.'"

"Thaumic entanglement? I've never heard of that."

"Of course not. I discovered it." Sunset paused. "Well, co-discovered it. Thank the natives and their forays into quantum physics for giving me the idea." At Star's puzzled look, she added, "Simply put, at very, very small distances, the universe is governed by a whole other set of laws."

"I didn't want a lesson in thaumatological mechanics," Star muttered. "Let's just assume you have that problem solved. How do you expect to get all the inhabitants to fall in line with your grand vision? This world wasn't exactly a friendly place in the past. Has that changed? Is this whole world operating under one government now?"

"Oh, heavens, no," said Sunset. "My task would have been infinitely easier if that were the case. They're still quite divided. Well, in some cases, 'divided' is an understatement."

"Then I'm at a loss as to how you intend to accomplish this."

"I've already mentioned one technique," said Sunset. "Keeping the natives calm during the transition. Once they're ponies, it will seem natural to them. It's a side effect of changing the morphic resonance; if your resonance says you're supposed to be a pony, you're a pony, period."

"But that's not enough, is it?" said Star.

"No, it's just a start," said Sunset. "The transformation also instills a sort of 'herd instinct,' not unlike what drives modern Equestrian society, but a bit stronger."

"I could see that bringing these new ponies together at a community level, but how do you plan on placating an entire world?"

"The idea is to start small and work up," Sunset explained. "The natives have a strong sense of 'us' and 'them'. Herd instinct expands what is considered 'us' to the point where small and tightly-knit communities can be maintained. That's admittedly a simplistic explanation of a more complicated dynamic. Suffice it to say, they'll come together for mutual support in dealing with the aftermath of the transformation. They'll see more of what they have in common rather than their differences."

"Uh, okay," Star said in an uncertain voice. "What happens when the 'us' of one community becomes the 'them' of the other community?"

"The two main driving forces of conflict among the natives are competition for resources and conflicting ideologies," Sunset explained. "As ponies, they'll have exactly two resources that they will care about at first, and that's food and water. Most of the other resources they squabble over feed their enormous monetary systems and industry, things that will be quite useless to them as ponies, at least at first. I've skewed the initial generation more heavily towards earth ponies and pegasi to help make this possible; unicorns will admittedly play more of a support role at first. In lands that are already arable, they'll overproduce by quite a bit, which can provide for communities in areas not as well endowed."

Star set down her coffee mug. "I seem to recall that the pony tribes were not as keen on sharing as easily back in the day before Equestria was founded."

"Yes, but due to ideology, and I'm coming to that," said Sunset. "But you're correct to question me. The natives can be rather territorial. Herd instinct diminishes it somewhat, but there may still be natives who will want to hoard a resource even if they produce it in abundance just to have power over other communities. Of course, not all natives are like that, not necessarily even most, but potentially enough to cause issues."

"Then it would seem you're at a dead end. I don't see how you can overcome that problem."

Sunset hopped off her chair, her now empty mug in her magical hold. "Do you want another cup? I could use one. Busy day ahead."

Star had finished only about half of hers before the bitterness left too much of a nasty aftertaste. "No, I'm good."

Sunset poured herself some more coffee. "The solution dovetails nicely into the issues caused by ideology. It takes advantage of the natives' propensity for following trends and succumbing to peer pressure, as well as their willingness to believe in the supernatural." Sunset trotted back towards the table. "The last bit is ironic considering how many of them don't believe in magic."

"I already don't like where this is going," Star deadpanned.

"Please, stop being melodramatic until you hear me out," said Sunset. "You talked about them following a 'grand vision'. You were closer to the truth than you realized. I plan to quite literally instill a shared vision among the new ponies."

Star hesitated. "I don't follow."

"Yesterday, you spoke of Ascendancy," said Sunset. "I've unlocked further secrets of high magic without it. One of those secrets involves the dreamscape."

Star gave Sunset a skeptical look. "Are you telling me you've become the next Princess Luna?"

"Oh, no, not by a long shot," said Sunset. "I cannot dreamwalk as easily as she. For what I have planned, I don't need to be that precise. Rather than bore you with the exact details, suffice it to say that I intend to instill a vision in newly transformed ponies hinting at how they should behave and suggesting a greater purpose for what has happened to them."

"And what if they just shrug it off as an odd dream?" Star asked.

"Starry, you need to stop thinking in Equestrian terms and start thinking in native terms. In Equestria, a shared dream would do little more than generate gossip about whether Princess Luna had some message for them. It's mundane, run-of-the-mill. Not here. A shared dream would be of significant importance. It would suggest something supernatural at work."

"It isn't enough you want to be a Princess over them," Star muttered. "You want to be their goddess as well."

Sunset face-hoofed. "Starry, you're not listening! I've already said this isn't about me. I'm not going to give them a vision of me. You think I want to draw that much attention to myself? I want to be just another transformed pony in their midst."

Star hopped off the chair and stepped up to Sunset. "You claim you don't have Princess Luna's power. How do you expect to project a vision to everypony?"

Sunset smiled. "Again, by starting small. Every community will have a contingent of nightponies. They have their own inherent ability to interact with the dreamscape. It's more limited, but enough to act as relay points. I need only reach out to them, and they in turn will use their ability to 'spread the word' as it were."

Star narrowed her gaze. "This sounds disturbingly like brainwashing."

"These visions are not going to take control of them," said Sunset. "I'm not so much manipulating minds as a social dynamic. True, these natives are still aggressive and can be hurtful towards one another. Taken as a whole, however, they want to move beyond that, more so than any time in their history. I'm simply encouraging that, much like the founders of Equestria saw past their differences and embraced peace and unity."

Star remained silent.

Sunset stepped closer to her friend. "So far, it seems most of your questions have been designed to find holes in my plans rather than to resolve any great moral dilemma."

"What's your point?"

"That perhaps you're more on board with my ideas than you claim."

Star sighed. "Sunny, I didn't want to revisit any of this ever again. Until Princess Celestia released me from the spell, I thought I had made my peace with everything. Now I feel like we're back at square one, sharing grandiose ideas with each other that had no chance of working."

"My plans are indeed grandiose," said Sunset. "But I still believe they can work."

Star had no immediate response.

"Starry, last time we talked, you had resolved your visions to somepony named, ah, Glimmer, was it?"

"Starlight Glimmer," Star Singer said in a flat voice.

"Past that, you saw only shadowy figures that had no name, yet you were sure were capable of great destruction. Have you resolved any of them further?"

"I haven't used my ability in over a decade, Sunny."

"Perhaps you should reconsider," said Sunset.

Star tilted her head. "Are you offering to send me back through the portal?"

"I meant use it here, in this universe."

"I'm not sure that would work."

"I think it will," said Sunset. "And I will predict what you will see. You will see a dire future threat to this world, one that a magic-less population can do nothing to stop."

Star hesitated before answering, "I'll consider it."

"That's all I ask." Sunset glanced out the window at the brightening sky. "I need to go. I'll try to visit you as much as I can. In the meantime, please consider telling me anything you've discovered about the native's immunity."

Star looked on with uncertain eyes as Sunset teleported away.





Jenny took advantage of the general pandemonium in the Tanner household that Tuesday morning to dash back to her room when she heard her Skype chime. Her pink tail flicked itself to the side as she plopped down into her chair. She grabbed the headphones and uttered a frustrated snort when by reflex she placed them several inches lower than they needed to be. She had to hold them in place against her blue-furred equine ears.

"Hi, Jenny," came James' soft voice.

Jenny was too flustered for a moment to reply at first. "James, how are you able to talk to me?"

"I told my mother what she could do with her stupid restrictions," James said. "Since this may be the last time we get a chance to talk for a while."

"You got the same call, then," Jenny said.

"Yeah. Anyone with obvious symptoms are 'encouraged' to move to the shelters." James paused. "How bad is it there?"

"I have the ears. Dad got them last night and now he's starting to get red fur. Mom ... has a horn and orange fur."

"Did you say a horn??" James said.

"Yeah. Right in the middle of her forehead." Jenny paused. "Like a unicorn."

"What about Laura?"

Jenny's ears tried to draw back, frustrating her efforts to keep the headphones in place. "She went into the shelter yesterday. Wings."

"Damn," James said in a low voice. "It's scary how much this is sounding like--"

"Don't say it!" Jenny snapped.

"But it's almost like you predicted--"

"I didn't predict a fucking thing," Jenny declared. "I almost wish I hadn't wasted my time with all that."

"Come on, you can't be serious."

Jenny remained silent.

"That was everything to you," James said. "I loved listening to it. I even loved participating in it. I'd really miss that if you stopped."

Jenny frowned. "Tell me the truth. Is that all you ever liked about me?"

"I never said that."

"You're not answering the question."

James paused. "It's what attracted me to you, yeah."

Jenny opened her mouth, but her intended protest died before it reached her lips. She couldn't see herself telling him that there was more to her than that, as she couldn't see it herself. "Sorry to disappoint."

"I do like you, Jenny," said James. "I think you're a very spirited filly."

Jenny blinked. "What??"

"I-I meant girl," James stammered. "Sorry. I've been doing that sometimes ever since the fur started to come in."

"Well, stop it," Jenny snapped. "I don't need to be reminded I'm becoming a stupid horse."

"But maybe it's more than that. Horses don't have horns or wings."

"I don't have either of those. Do you?"

"Well, no."

Jenny halted that line of thought immediately, that having her fantasies become reality might at least be interesting if she were something other than a brightly colored pony. That would have meant being jealous of horns or wings, which played into the whole perception of her being a "self-centered brat."

"Maybe it doesn't matter," James said, "Maybe there's something special about not having either of those."

"You're talking nonsense," said Jenny, though her conviction was weak.

"I'm just worried about you, that's all."

Jenny clenched her teeth. What was he really worried about? That he'd never be entertained by her again? She wanted his affection, but what was the price?

"Jenny!" came her mother's voice from the hall.

Jenny jerked her head around as her mother appeared at the door. Her eyes glistened as she beheld her mother's horn. A thin spiral design circled its tapering length, exactly what she would have expected from a unicorn straight out of a fantasy. Her mind vacillated between seeing it as an alien mutation and accepting it as perfectly natural.

"Jenny, what are you doing?" Sarah said.

Jenny muted the call. "Talking to James."

"Please, don't stay on too much longer, we should get going. I want to maximize the chance we'll all be in the same shelter."

"Yeah, fine," Jenny said in a listless voice. After her mother had gone, she unmuted the call. "I have to go."

"You sure you don't want to talk some more?"

Jenny had nothing she wanted to say that wasn't just another confirmation of Tina's assessment of her. "No. I ... um ... I hope to see you again soon."

"So do I," said James in a low voice.

Jenny wanted to believe he was sincere, but she doubted her own sincerity at that moment. "Goodbye."

She disconnected the call and threw her headphones, intending them to land on the desk, but they sailed well past it and landed on the floor near the window. She touched one of her ears. When she had got up that morning, she wasn't sure what she was. Now she wasn't sure who she was, either.





Laura's slow rise out of deep slumber came with an odd cacophony about her which surely was part of some lingering fragment of a dream, soon overshadowed by stiffness and soreness. She had struggled to find a comfortable position in which to sleep, as used to sleeping on her side or back as she was. Laura groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, wincing as her wings tried to stretch. Her left wing faltered, feeling like a dead weight and all pins and needles.

As she awoke further, she became more aware of the strange noises around her, sounding a bit like blocks of wood banging together. She tried to push herself up and draw her feet under her, but they kept getting tangled in the bedroll. She tried to wriggle them free, but nothing responded to her mental commands past her ankles.

As she became more frantic in her groggy state, she heard another odd clopping noise right next to her, and hands touched her sides. "Laura, take it easy, you're just getting yourself more tangled up," came Emma's voice. "Fold your wings and roll onto your back for a moment."

Laura immediately complied, and Emma tugged the folds of the bedroll free and drew back the blanket. Laura awoke fully in an instant, her eyes widening.

"You, um, want to try them out?" Emma suggested.

Laura moved her legs back and forth slightly, and her hooves moved with them. She blinked rapidly as if still trying to rewire her conscious mind to this new reality. The ankles were higher on her leg than they should be, yet she could flex them, and the hooves complied.

"They're not too bad once you get used to them," said Emma, shifting one of her own hooves slightly forward.

Laura nodded slowly and let Emma help her up. She teetered for a moment, another set of hands reaching out to steady her, arriving on the quick beat of hooves against wood flooring.

"Hey, not bad for your first time," said Sadie with a smile.

Laura glanced from one helper to the other and smiled faintly. She glanced down and saw Sadie standing on her own set of hooves. "Did this happen to everyone?"

Emma glanced around. "Just about."

Laura looked around. At least a dozen other people were walking about on hooves, all managing to stay balanced despite being hunched over. Their tails lifted behind them, as if in an attempt to compensate.

Laura glanced down at herself. Her nightgown which had fit her reasonably well the night before now already felt loose. Fur had reached up around her torso, and her breasts felt like they had shrunk.

"Here, try taking a few steps," said Sadie.

Laura stumbled a bit with her first steps until she realized that staring at her hooves was confusing her brain into expecting feet. As with the wings, it seemed her body had been rewired to accommodate, and she had to just give in to that instinct. After a few minutes, she was able to stand on her own, her tail lifting to balance her. "I think I got it. I--" Her gaze had drifted to the side, and her eyes now widened in shock. "Oh my God, what--?!"

Emma followed Laura's gaze. "You noticed Josie, too, huh?"

Laura stared at the purple-haired, midnight-blue furred girl still sleeping in a bedroll a few spots down.

"I think she was brought in overnight," said Emma.

The girl was about at the same state as Laura, though her ears were slightly larger and had tufts of fur at the tips. She had wings, but instead of feathered, they were more bat-like in appearance.

"She's the only one like that so far," said Sadie. "I was awake when she arrived. She stayed up all night and only went to sleep right before dawn. I overheard one of the physicians saying something about her acting nocturnal ever since her ears came in."

Laura was about to comment when she caught a weak flicker of light out of the corner of her eye followed by a yelp and a cry of "What are you doing, trying to set fire to the place?!"

"I didn't do anything!" cried a plaintive voice in return. "I don't know where those sparks came from!"

"Kelly, they came from your horn!"

Several shocked physicians suddenly converged on the hapless girl. "Please, everyone, step back!"

"But what did I do??" the girl cried in confusion.

"I better get over there and help calm things down," said Sadie.

Laura watched her go. "Emma, this has to mean something."

"Why are you so sure of that?" Emma asked.

"Because of these," Laura said as she stretched her wings to their full extent. "They seem so natural now. You said yesterday that they might even work. Why shouldn't they work? Why shouldn't we be able to use them?"

Either Laura had not realized how loudly she was speaking, or she had underestimated the hearing ability of pony ears. Several other winged women looked in her direction with a mix of bemusement and interest.

"As much as I agree with you, Laura, what has you so adamant about it?" Emma asked.

"I don't know," Laura admitted. "I just want to understand, and I feel like this is the way to go about it. What's the point in lamenting about what's happening? It's happening, and we have to deal with it." She paused before adding in a lower voice, "It's the responsible thing to do."

As Laura spoke, one of the women from the other group approached, moving slowly on her newly-minted hooves, her white-feathered wings spreading out to help balance her. "You said your name was Laura?" the woman asked.

Laura nodded. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Joan. Sorry to be so forward but, well, I noticed some of your feathers are a bit crooked on your left wing."

"I made the mistake of sleeping on my side."

"I've done some rehabilitation work with birds," said Joan. "I'd be happy to help you with it." She paused. "And maybe you can talk to my friends and I more about what you just said."

"Oh, um, well," Laura said in a faltering voice. "I don't know if I have much more to say about it."

Joan's tail swished. "Still, it would help to just talk. We're still weirded out by a lot of this."

Laura slowly smiled. "Sure, okay."





After breaking camp, Twilight and Starlight set out towards the northeast until they came to the edge of a ridge. Twilight lifted a fore-hoof and pointed into the distance. "There. That's our destination."

Starlight shielded her eyes from the morning sun as she peered. The ridge dropped off into a valley, another winding road following its contours. Beyond another, more low-lying ridge sprawled a settlement, a narrow band of civilization stretching north and south. It clung to a road that bisected the town, the same road that Twilight had spotted from the air the night before.

"Um, okay," said Starlight. "It's not that impressive."

"It's bigger than Ponyville," said Twilight.

"That's not saying much." Starlight levitated a set of binoculars and held them to her eyes. "Wouldn't it be better if we found a seat of government?"

"How do we know that isn't one?"

Starlight swept her magnified gaze over the town. "I'm not seeing anything like castles or palaces. Or for that matter, anything like the government buildings from their imperial period."

"Then we can locate their town hall," said Twilight. "I don't like going through the most densely populated part of the town but--"

"Wait a minute." Starlight's horn glowed as she cast a spell to augment the magnifying power of the binoculars. "I may have found something. It's still not tremendously impressive, but it does have a spire, and it looks different from all the other buildings."

"Let me see." Twilight swapped positions with Starlight. "Oh, yes, that might be it! It's even got a symbol atop the spire. Are there any other buildings that have that symbol?"

Starlight took back the binoculars and slowly swept the rest of the town. "Not that I can see. Hmm. There is something very vaguely familiar about that symbol, but I don't recall where I saw it in the old accounts I read of contact during that time."

"But that it was there at all means it might be of some importance, like the symbols the nobles in Canterlot use to signify their family associations."

"Only problem is, it's way on the other side of town." Starlight turned to Twilight. "How do you want me to play this? You want me to zap whatever natives see us first once we're there?"

"No, let's try to communicate with them first. Only if that fails, or it looks like they're going to be hostile towards us do we resort to mind magic."

"So what are your plans for getting to the other side of town? Go around it?"

"We go through it," said Twilight.

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"We can't afford not to take risks, Starlight," said Twilight. "That building is more on the south side, so we can cross the town at its thinnest point. Also, I'm sensing a faint resonance of transformation magic. I want to study it as we pass through. It may give us more clues as to how to stop it. I'd rather not go to these natives empty-hooved."

"The big question is, how are we going to convince them we're not delusional?" Starlight asked. "If this place has no magic, they don't exactly have visitors popping up from other universes every day."

"A demonstration of magic, perhaps?" said Twilight.

"And if they take that to mean we're behind all this?"

"I thought we had resolved this last night. We need the natives' assistance if we have any hope of stopping this. I don't want to go straight to the center of this mess, as that's what Aunt Sunset is expecting me to do."

"How do you figure that?" Starlight asked.

"Aunt Sunset doesn't understand how different I am from her," said Twilight. "She thinks I'm going straight for her, because that's what she would do in my place. Also, the natives can likely make a lot more trouble for her than we can until we're able to confront her directly."

Starlight sighed. "Okay, fine," she said in a distracted voice.

Twilight tilted her head. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm a little more scared about this whole lark than I thought I would be."

"I know it looks a bit bleak right now, but I'm confident we can stop this."

"I'm more worried about getting home!" Starlight cried. "Did it ever occur to you this may be a one way trip? What if Sunset decides to destroy the portal when she finds out her plans were wrecked? Maybe if we go straight there, we can stop that."

"She won't do that," said Twilight. "That would be the act of an insane pony."

"Her plans sound insane to me."

"I don't mean it that way," said Twilight. "She doesn't act rashly or on impulse. She's meticulous and calculating to a fault. If it's the least bit in her interest to keep the portal intact, she will."

"I hope you're right," said Starlight. "All right, let's get this show on the road."





Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, the spiral horn rising from the center of her forehead becoming less of a novelty the more she thought about it. If she concentrated on it too much, it started to feel tingly. It was just a piece of bone ... yet it wasn't.

She forced her mind off that track by shifting her gaze to her hair, which now looked more like a mane than ever. The fur that had started the day before was already almost all the way up her thighs, and her feet felt achy and slightly stiff. Standing up straight was an impossibility. She lifted a hand and flexed her fingers, feeling some small measure of relief when they responded to her commands easily.

As an archaeologist, her hands were her life. Whether they held the tools of her trade or touched the ground directly, they needed to work delicately, extracting artifacts that could crumble or crack if not handled with the utmost care. How was she expected to do that with hooves?

She took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. "Harry, where are you?"

"In the office," said Harold.

Sarah stepped inside as Harold set down his cell phone. "Trying your father again?"

"Yeah," Harold said in a somber voice. "No luck."

"Harry, we have to go. The kids are ready."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "I can stay here for a little while longer."

"We've already hashed this out! I want the family to be together as much as possible."

"Sarah, you said yourself, they're keeping people separated by gender."

"Yes, and Bob needs you."

Harold frowned but said nothing.

Sarah lowered her gaze. "Harry, we saw a movie once some years back. I don't remember the name. It was about a family trying to keep it together in the aftermath of a nuclear war."

Harold stood and placed his hands on Sarah's shoulders. "You're thinking of Testament. Depressing as hell. You vowed never to watch it again."

Sarah looked up. "Except now I feel like we're living it. I want a better ending than that movie."

Harold drew her into an embrace. "So do I."

"And part of that means we stick together. We don't let anything separate us if we can help it."

"All right," Harold said in a soft voice. "I'll go. I just hope we can trust Eileen not to burn the damn place down."

"We don't have any choice in the matter," said Sarah. "We have to trust her that far. And to be honest, the house is the least of my worries."

"Have you talked to Laura yet?" Harold asked as they headed out of his office.

Sarah shook her head. "I wanted to make sure she was awake. I'm going to call her while we're on our way to the shelter. I just wish the high school had not filled up already." She saw Eileen standing at the end of the hallway. "Eileen, make sure you pay attention to the first item on that list I gave you and--"

Eileen met them halfway. "Sis, can I talk to you?" She glanced at Harold. "Alone?"

Sarah frowned. "I specifically asked you if you had any questions about that list, and you said you were fine!"

"It's not about the list. Please, this is important."

Sarah's ears drooped. "Fine. Harry, go see to the kids, please. Eileen, this way," She marched crisply into her office -- at least as much as her stooped posture and stiff feet would allow -- and turned around to face her sister. "Make this quick."

Eileen closed the door behind them. Her gaze lingered on Sarah's horn for a moment. "This is going to sound strange, but I'm worried about Jenny."

Sarah was too nonplussed to respond at first. "Did you say Jenny?"

"Yeah. She's not acting like herself."

"None of us are quite ourselves in case you haven't noticed."

Eileen frowned. "Will you get off your fucking high hor ... uh ... I mean, just listen to me for once without the lecture, okay?"

Sarah let out a sigh through her nose. "All right. What is it?"

"Jenny had a weird conversation with me yesterday." Eileen summarized what had happened on the deck.

Sarah's gaze softened. "Yes, Harry and I know that she may have suppressed her memory of that storm."

Eileen looked a bit relieved. "So it wasn't me that caused her problems?"

"No, she's been acting oddly the past few days. We just haven't had a chance to deal with it." Sarah paused. "Is that the only reason you asked about it, to exonerate yourself?"

Eileen quelled the urge to snipe back at her sister and instead said in a low voice, "I just don't want to be the cause of someone else's grief anymore."

Sarah hesitated before responding, "Thank you for taking the time to care about Jenny's welfare."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I don't have ears like you do, but I could almost swear there was no sarcasm in that comment."

"I won't mince words, Eileen. I haven't cared for how much you Skyped with Jenny. I feel like you've been a bad influence on her."

"And how the hell do you figure that?"

"Haven't you been encouraging her to do all those wild things that have been getting her into trouble?" said Sarah.

"I didn't encourage her to do anything," said Eileen. "Yeah, okay, I never specifically told her not to do stuff she's thought up, but that's not my job."

"Then what did you talk about?" Sarah asked, perplexed.

Eileen grinned. "Jenny did most of the talking. She loves to talk about her fantasies. Well, she used to, anyway. What, you thought all this time I was telling her to do crazy stuff?"

"Well, maybe not told her specifically, but surely you encouraged her."

"Not once," Eileen declared. "Most of the time, she told me about it after the fact. Even if it was my place to talk her down, she never gave me the chance. She just wanted someone to listen to her. Look, sis, I'll take my lumps for anything I've done, God knows I've earned plenty of those, but I won't take them for something I didn't do."

"So why did she turn to you?" Sarah asked.

Eileen shrugged. "She never told me. I wondered why she didn't just tell you and Harry about this stuff, but I never asked her."

Sarah nodded slowly, her eyes distant.

"Look, um, I know it sounds like I keep asking for stuff, but can I see Bob one more time before you all go?" Eileen asked softly. "Maybe he wants me to fuck off, but I want him to at least know I care about what happens to him."

"Yes, go ahead," Sarah said in a strained voice.

Eileen gave her sister an odd look before heading out of the office.





"Hey, Bob."

Bob let out a sigh of relief when he heard Tina's voice. "I wasn't sure I'd reach you."

"You caught me just in time, we going to be leaving inside an hour," said Tina.

"How are your parents doing?"

"They're freaking out a bit," said Tina in a low voice. "They only started getting the hair this past Friday and now they have tails and ears."

"I have sea-green hair," Bob said in a level voice. "Started yesterday, and it's already complete."

"Mine's cornflower yellow. Just started this morning. I can freaking see the hairs turning color if I stare at it long enough in the mirror."

Bob leaned back in his chair. "Dammit, this is accelerating. I don't think we'll get to the end of the week without fully transforming."

Tina snorted. "Well, you're a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," said Bob. "I wouldn't be so upset if I didn't have to deal with my mother, too."

"Your mother?" Tina said in a confused voice. "I thought you got along with her. You said you were interested in her archaeological work and--"

"She's not my mother, she's my aunt," said Bob in a flat voice.

Tina paused. "O-kay. Boy, there must be a story behind that."

"I wish I had time to tell you, but we're all heading to the shelter at the middle school."

"Shit, we're going to one of the grammar school about a few blocks from there." Tina paused. "I would've preferred to be in the same one as you. Um, just to have a friend nearby, you know?"

Despite the circumstances, he blushed mildly at her obvious interest in him. "They probably would separate us by gender anyway."

"So much for our plans to help everyone else," Tina said. "At least my ankle's been healing faster than they told me it would. It's almost as good as new." She paused. "I suppose that's good if I have to deal with hooves."

Bob had managed to keep himself calm through this crisis, but that had hinged on a silent insistence that something logical had to be behind it. As things made less sense first by the day and now by the hour, he had little reserves to draw on. All the scientific knowledge he was quietly proud to have accumulated over the years was failing him.

"Hey, uh, I wanted to ask you something," Tina said. "Laura's wings. You, uh, think they might work?"

Bob hesitated. "Work? She can move them, if that's what you mean."

"I mean, do you think she could fly?"

As Laura had predicted, his mind immediately leaped upon the idea that flight for even a creature as small as a pony would be impossible, as the wings could not be made large enough without weighing down the creature with all the muscle mass required to power them. Logic dictated it was impossible, an insurmountable problem in normal Earth gravity and atmospheric pressure. He should be as sure of that as he was of his own name.

"I don't know," Bob said in a hollow voice. "Why?"

"My upper back aches a bit," said Tina. "Thought maybe I had something to look forward to."

"Someone will stop this," Bob declared. "Someone will figure it out. Someone always figures out stuff like this."

"Yeah, just maybe not in time for us." Tina sighed. "Listen to me, I'm supposed to be the upbeat one."

"It's okay, this is hard on every--"

Bob was interrupted by a soft knock as his door. "Hey, uh, can I talk to you before you go?" came Eileen's tentative voice.

Bob frowned, though his expression softened almost at once. He lowered the phone. "Just a minute!" He raised the phone again. "I have to go."

"Keep in touch, Bob," said Tina, her voice almost a plea. "At least as long as you can."

"I'll try," said Bob. "I, um, hope to see you again soon."

"So do I."

Bob couldn't bring himself say goodbye. He simply hung up and set the phone aside. "Come in."

Eileen opened the door and paused at the threshold before fully stepping inside. "So, uh, you're going with the rest of them?"

"They want everyone with symptoms to head to the shelters."

"They can't force you, can they?"

"No, but the more people they can examine, the better chance they'll have of understanding this."

Eileen smiled faintly as she closed the door behind her. "How did my son get so much more responsible than his own mother?"

Bob hesitated before responding in a soft voice, "I'm not sure you want an honest answer to that."

Eileen remained standing with her back against the door. "It was mostly a rhetorical question."

"It's not so much wanting to be responsible as keeping the family together," said Bob, but when he saw Eileen's eyes shimmer slightly, he realized that was the wrong thing to say. "Uh, what I mean is--"

"No, save it," Eileen said. "I don't blame you for feeling like I'm barely family. I was never there for you."

"Mom, you don't need to do this."

"Yeah, I do. Not for your sake, but mine." Her gaze flicked to Bob's hair. "You want to hear something funny? I almost wish I was in your situation."

Bob looked askance at her.

"I keep talking about starting over," said Eileen. "I know I can't do that with you, but I can still do it for myself. You gotta admit, becoming a little colorful pony would be a hell of a makeover. It really would feel like leaving everything behind."

"I don't think you should wish for something like that," said Bob in a low voice.

"I'm not, really, I just can't ignore the irony of the situation." Eileen sighed. "But it could just be me trying to escape reality again. I got a call a few minutes ago. Local cop is gonna come over and interrogate me about my little stunt at the barricade."

"I really hope you don't get into too much trouble," said Bob. "You really were just thinking of me."

"Somewhere in that need to prove myself, I was really thinking of you." Eileen swallowed. "Shit, I just got here, and I can't even reconnect with you before you're gone again."

Bob's eyes glistened, and after only a second's hesitation, he approached his mother and drew her into a hug. Eileen was so stunned at first that it took her a few moments to return the gesture. She embraced him fiercely, sniffling once before letting her breath go as a ragged sigh.

"I just want you to know that I'm serious when I say I still love you, Mom," said Bob.

Eileen squeezed her eyes shut when tears threatened to leak from them. She quelled the urge to recriminate herself again so she could share this last moment with her son.





While the lower elevations near the town were noticeably warmer than the slopes of the mountains, large snowdrifts still abounded, and meltwater ran in countless rivulets that soaked the already over-saturated ground.

"Ugh, this is awful," Starlight muttered as she glanced down at her muddy hooves. "Can't we use some magic to dry out the ground a bit?"

"I'm already maintaining illusion spells to hide my wings and our cutie marks in case we run into transformed natives," said Twilight. "I don't want us to overtax ourselves in case we need to use magic in an emergency."

"I still have trouble believing the natives can't use magic."

"It's been very puzzling to me as well," said Twilight. "This universe has a very strong thaumic field, perhaps more so than Equestria. I also get the sense it stretches on for a vast distance beyond this world."

"Then maybe there's some other world that has magic, just not this one," said Starlight.

"I suppose that's possible. I really wish we weren't here under duress. This is such an opportunity to learn--"

Starlight's ears perked up, and she stopped. "Wait, I hear something."

Twilight lifted her head. Her eyes widened. "Hooves!"

Starlight turned her head and pointed with a fore-hoof. "I see a path, and it looks a bit more solid. And dry."

"This could be a break for us!" Twilight said excitedly. "If there are natives who have been completely transformed, we may be able to blend in with them."

Starlight looked doubtful as the hoofbeats grew louder. "Those sound a lot heavier than normal. Not even Big Mac sounds quite like that, and he's the biggest stallion I know."

"All right, we play it safe," said Twilight. "Let's get behind this tree until we can get a look at them."

They took refuge behind a thick tree trunk. Starlight waited until the hoof-falls were coming from the direction of the path before carefully taking a peek. Her mouth dropped open, and her pupils shrank to near pinpricks.

The hooved creatures passing by on the path were, to her, equine only in the vaguest sense of the word. Their legs were far too long and spindly, their muzzles huge and eyes disconcertingly small. What really threw her off was the fact that each one was being ridden by a native.

Starlight ducked back behind the tree. "Did you see what I just saw??"

Twilight withdrew her head from around the side of the tree. "Yes," she said in a low voice.

"Y-you don't think those are transformed--?"

"No," Twilight declared. "Best guess is that they're native equinoids. If they're being used as beasts of burden, they may not be sapient."

Starlight frowned. "They better not be! I don't fancy being pressed into that kind of service myself."

"I read once that Princess Platinum of the old unicorn tribe used to press underlings into that sort of service from time to time." Twilight added in a low mutter, "Which Rarity had insisted on acting out during the Hearths Warming Day play."

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

"Right, not relevant," said Twilight. "What is relevant is that they had no magic radiating from them at all. The natives riding them, however, is another story entirely."

"I didn't think to look if they were transforming."

"They weren't, yet they had faint amounts of transformation magic in them."

"So their transformation hadn't started yet?"

"I'm not sure," said Twilight. "It didn't seem like nearly enough to give it the initial spark. It was more like the energy was just sitting there."

"Maybe Sunset's spell is failing and her plans are already unraveling."

"Or there's a connection we're still not making." Twilight looked thoughtful for a moment before glancing around the tree. "The natives are safely away. Let's keep pressing forward."





Sarah had wondered exactly how Laura had managed to use her cell phone with her ears having migrated several inches out of supposed reach of the speaker. She discovered that she needed only to boost the volume slightly and let her sensitive pony hearing do the rest. "Are you doing okay?" Sarah asked in an urgent voice as she walked with her family towards the shelter. "Are they treating you well?"

"I'm fine, Mom," said Laura. "I mean ... well ... I have hooves."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Honey, are they helping you get around at least?"

"That's the nice thing about it, I can get around fine. I'm standing on them now. And, yeah, other than poking us with needles sometimes, we're being treated okay. The food could be better, though, but it's edible. How's the rest of the family?"

"We're all worse," Sarah said.

"Even Bob?"

Sarah glanced at Bob's hair. "Yes, he has it now, too. We're all on our way to a shelter. The middle school on fifth."

"That's not too far away."

Sarah gripped the phone tighter. Why was her daughter so calm? For that matter, why was she not freaking out herself? Why did the horn seem like just another part of her? "I have no idea if they'll reunite us," Sarah said in a quavering voice.

"It's filled up completely here, Mom, I'm sorry."

"Maybe they can move you to this shelter."

Laura hesitated. "I've kinda made some friends here. I'd feel bad leaving them."

"But we're family, Laura."

"Mom, please, don't make me choose."

Sarah took a deep breath and let it go as a ragged sigh. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it that way. I should be glad you're finding support."

"Yes, and I even found a woman who knows how to preen wings!" Laura said. "We think maybe we can actually use them, but ... well, we're kinda afraid about how the people observing us are going to react. They got a bit spooked when some of us had sparks coming from their horns."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Wait, some of us? Did you get a horn in addition to--?"

"No, I didn't mean that. I just ... I don't know, I guess we've kind of started to become a tight group. It's close quarters in here. It's hard not to get to know everypony."

Sarah didn't notice the pronoun change as she glanced forward. A line had formed at the entrance to the school. Almost everyone present had at least the equine ears. A few had wings or horns. One woman held a baby who couldn't have been more than a few months old. The child's magenta tail had escaped the blankets swaddling him and swished idly as the baby cooed. White-coated physicians wearing breath masks and holding tablet PCs were walking along the line conducting interviews and taking notes.

"I'm going to have to go now, honey," said Sarah. "I'm sorry I can't talk longer."

"I understand," Laura said in a forlorn voice. "It's just that this may be the last time we can talk on the phone."

Sarah's heart thumped. "Why?"

"My hands are starting to get stiff. I don't know if I can operate a phone with hooves."

"J-just don't worry about it," Sarah said in a quavering voice. "I'm sure someone will help. I love you, Laura."

"I love you, too, Mom."

Sarah took another deep breath as she hung up.

Harold stepped closer to her. "You okay?"

Sarah nodded quickly. "As much as can be expected. Pretty much the same can be said for Laura."

"Hey, wait a minute," said Jenny, her ears drawing back slightly. She pointed to the side. "Who are they?"

Two men in dark suits stood beside the entrance of the school. One had something in one of his ears, from which a slim wire snaked down into his suit.

"They're wearing some sort of communications gear," said Bob.

Sarah stared as one of the men looked squarely in her direction, seemed to study her for a moment, then turned to his cohort and spoke to him. The second man glanced towards Sarah, nodded, and headed inside.

"Something's up," said Bob.

"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," Jenny muttered.

The remaining man stepped towards them, and Sarah's heart skipped a beat when he stopped right before her. "Are you Doctor Sarah Tanner?"

"Yes," said Sarah.

The man took out his wallet and snapped it open, revealing a badge. "My name is Anthony Heller. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I need to speak with you."

Harold frowned. "What's this about?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm authorized only to speak to Doctor Tanner on this matter."

"Can I at least get my family into the shelter before they fill up?" Sarah asked. "I've already been separated from one family member, I don't want that to happen again."

"It's important I speak with you as soon as possible," said Anthony. "My colleague will make sure they hold a space for you. You're not under arrest, Doctor Tanner, we just want to follow up on your previous contact with the Bureau."

Sarah let out a relieved sigh. In all her anxiety, she had all but forgotten she had contacted them. "Yes, of course, I'll come along."

> Chapter 30 - First Contact
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight and Starlight encountered the first native domiciles just short of a river which meandered roughly parallel to the road that bisected the town. They stopped at the edge of the forest bordering the settlement.

"This is interesting," Twilight said as she observed the settlement through the binoculars. "Their abodes are further apart than I expected. They're nowhere near as close together as they are in Ponyville."

"The center of town looked more dense," said Starlight.

Twilight lowered the binoculars. "Yes, but those buildings didn't look like domiciles. They looked more, well, businesslike. Do they actually keep their businesses that far apart from their dwellings?"

"Well, you've said this is a different culture."

"True, but they're also quite advanced. I would think they would be a little more efficient. How long must it take to walk to the nearest store?"

"Unless they use those self-propelled carriages to get everywhere," Starlight suggested.

"I suppose that must be the case," said Twilight. "The number of roads they've built would otherwise seem excessive. What a fascinating development."

"No, it's an unfortunate development," said Starlight. "We're going to have a hard time getting across without being seen. There's hardly any cover at all." She turned her head. "Maybe we should skirt the town further to the south."

"This settlement stretches a long distance along the main road," said Twilight. "I don't want to take another whole day to get where we're going."

"Yes, but I don't fancy being run over by one of those vehicles."

Twilight raised the binoculars again and slowly panned across the scene. "Wait, I have an idea. Starlight, take a look."

Starlight swapped places with Twilight and peered through the lenses. "Uh, okay. Those look a little like deer."

"Yes, and they're grazing unmolested near the edge of the fenced in areas around the domiciles," said Twilight. "The natives must be used to their presence. I can use an illusion spell to make us look like them."

Starlight turned from the binoculars. "Well, that's certainly better than making us look like those weird equines we saw earlier. They creeped me out."

"I had considered that, but if they are used as beasts of burden, they may think we escaped and would try to round us up." Twilight put the binoculars away. "I think this is our best bet."

"Well, okay," Starlight said in a wary voice. "You sure you got a good look at them? They weren't exactly like deer from our world."

"I think so," said Twilight as her horn started to glow. "Hold still."

After a few moments of concentration, Twilight wove a tapestry of swirling magic around herself and her companion. As the spell sparkled into existence, their images morphed into two does. Starlight blinked rapidly as she stared at Twilight. "I swear, these tiny eyes that all their animals have are bizarre."

"Let's not be too hasty to judge," said Twilight. "They evolved under different conditions. I'm sure they're quite well-adapted to their environment."

Starlight glanced down at herself and raised a fore-hoof. "It still looks odd."

"Try not to move your legs more than just for walking," said Twilight. "Their front legs didn't appear to be nearly as flexible as ours."

Starlight glanced towards the settlement. "Let's just get going and get this over and done with as soon as possible."

"I don't want to go too fast," said Twilight as they set out. "I need to take more readings. I'm detecting smatterings of transformation magic from within the settlement."

"How long can you maintain the illusion?" Starlight said as she looked around.

"Just don't attempt to cast any strong spells," said Twilight. "It could break the delicate magic of the illusion. If we're careful, I can keep it going for a few hours before--"

Starlight suddenly stopped, staring off to the side. "Uh, Twilight?"

"Why did you stop? I thought you wanted to -- oh!"

Twilight had followed Starlight's gaze until it fell on a native standing some distance away on a trail which bordered the settlement. The native stared at them in bemusement.

"I think something's wrong with the illusion," Starlight murmured.

"No, it should be working just fine," said Twilight.

The native's expression went from bemusement to shock.

"Then why is the native looking at us funny?"

"Oh, it must be because we're not speaking the local deer language."

The native paled.

"Or ... ah ... maybe their deer don't talk?" Twilight murmured.

Starlight very nearly face-hoofed.

"I'll cast a silence spell around us," Twilight said. "Let's get out of here. Fast."





They progressed through a winding strip of land that was less tended than the neater enclosed plots surrounding the domiciles. "Now that's really puzzling," Starlight murmured. "All that land around the houses and no crops?"

"It is just getting into spring," said Twilight. "Perhaps they haven't planted yet."

"But you would think the land would look like it had been tilled in the past. I'm still struggling to understand how this world works." Starlight's ears swiveled and twitched when a strange mechanical buzzing sound came from above. She looked up as an odd contraption sped by overhead: an elongated metal object with rigid wings on either side. "And things that fly without flapping their wings. Perfect."

"Now you see another reason I chose not to go directly to the center of the crisis by air," said Twilight. "I spotted some moving lights in the sky when I did another reconnaissance flight and surmised they were likely flying self-propelled carriages. I don't know what altitudes they fly at, whether they're armed or not, or what patterns they fly in."

"Twilight, this world is weird," Starlight declared.

"Mechanical flight has been theorized back home, just never developed," said Twilight. "And there is Pinkie Pie's little hoof-powered flying device."

"Pinkie is another level of weird all to herself. I'm not sure it's a fair comparison."

"And if she were the first one to greet a native of this world if he wound up in Equestria?"

Starlight paused. "Good point."

"See? It's all a matter of perspective."

While most of the natives had left them alone, some had ventured to the edges of their properties and held up small, flat, rectangular devices. They would then pause and lower the device before heading away. Now yet another of them was doing the same thing. "Twilight, do you have any idea what the hay that native is doing?" Starlight asked. "This is like the third time."

"I've been wondering myself," said Twilight. "I was worried that it was some sort of detector or scanning device, but I felt nothing impinge on my magical aura. The ones using it seem to be relaxed and content."

Starlight stared as the native held up the little device, paused, then lowered it, smiling before heading away. "Uh, stupid question: just how do you tell genders with these natives?"

"My working theory is that the two raised mounds on some adult natives are mammary glands, so they would be female," said Twilight.

"Those are awfully big for where they're located. Wouldn't it make the mares top-heavy?"

"I'm sure their bodies are adapted to that sort of thing," said Twilight. "Though what I find odd is the fact that they're all wearing clothing, even though it's pleasantly warm in the sunshine."

"Oh, yeah, that," Starlight said in a distracted voice. "I read that they had a nudity taboo."

Twilight's eyes widened. "They do? I hope we don't upset the natives with our lack of such. Though we do have clothing in the saddlebags."

"Uh, the clothing we have doesn't exactly cover up the bits that the natives care about."

"What do they care about?"

"The genitalia, for one."

Twilight blinked. "Well, that must make matters of sex rather complicated."

Starlight looked forward. "I think we have a more immediate concern."

Up ahead was a short embankment, and atop the small rise was a ribbon of paved road. Vehicles sped by in either direction at irregular intervals.

"How do we get past that?" Starlight asked as they came to a stop.

"Just try to cross?"

"And get hit by one of those carriages?"

"Surely they must consider that wildlife would need to cross their roads." Twilight turned her head and raised a fore-hoof. "Look!"

Twilight galloped a short distance southward. As Starlight caught up, she saw what had captured Twilight's interest: a triangular yellow sign with the silhouette of a deer on it.

"That must be marking the official crossing point for deer," said Twilight. "See? It has a picture instead of lettering so their deer can understand it without having to know a written language."

"Okay, so, how do we signal the natives to stop?"

"I would imagine just appearing at the edge of the road would be enough."

The two disguised ponies bounded up the embankment and ventured to the edge of the paved surface. An oncoming vehicle on that side of the road did appear to slow down at first, but rather than stopping, it simply steered closer to the parallel yellow lines in the center of the road and went on its way. A vehicle going the other way on the other side barreled on through without slowing.

"I don't think this is working," Starlight murmured as the experience repeated with another vehicle on that side.

"Perhaps there's some protocol we're not following," said Twilight.

"Or we could forget protocol and teleport." Starlight gestured towards the other side of the road with her head. "There's some level ground up ahead. It looks far enough from the road that we won't be spotted, and I don't see any houses."

"I'd have to drop the illusion spell first," said Twilight.

"Then get a good look at that location up ahead, and we can climb back down and out of view. Maybe put us right at the edge of the trees over there so we can just duck right into cover."

"Good idea."

Twilight stared on ahead for another moment to fix the plot of land in her mind. They scrambled down the embankment, their disguises fell, and they vanished with a flash of Twilight's horn.

They reappeared at the far end of a grassy area between the road and what they assumed was the edge of another forest. They immediately plunged into the trees, Twilight glancing behind her as they cantered forward. "I don't think we were spotted. We better stop so I can recast the--"

She nearly ran into Starlight, who had come to a dead stop. To Twilight's surprise, they had emerged from the trees almost as quickly as they had entered them. A narrow, slightly inclined dirt road stretched north-south between them and more trees. Yet that was not what now riveted Starlight's wide-eyed gaze.

Directly across the road stood a diminutive native a bit shorter than either of them. The native was wearing what Twilight assumed was a skirt similar to some of the adult females. She had long, light brown hair and held a large pink ball in her hands. She appeared frozen in place, just staring.

"This isn't good, is it?" Starlight murmured.

"Maybe we should attempt contact," Twilight said softy.

"I think she may be their equivalent of a foal."

The little native suddenly spoke, a short sentence followed by an inquisitive look.

"And that definitely was not Latin or Greek," Starlight said.

"It might be worth a try anyway," said Twilight. She put on her best smile and stepped forward. "Ahem. <Can you understand me, little one?>"

The native blinked and cocked her head.

"<Is your mother or father nearby?>"

The native asked another question in the same unintelligible language.

"Well, Latin didn't work," Twilight said. "Let me try Greek. <I would like to talk to your parents.>"

The native just looked more confused.

"This isn't working," Starlight murmured. "Let's just keep going."

"No, wait, maybe we can try pictographs. I can scratch something out in the dirt with a hoof."

"And just what can we show her that will mean anything?"

The native child suddenly giggled and said something else.

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Is it me, or does she find us amusing?"

"It's better than the alternative." Twilight considered. "That gives me an idea." She turned to the native child. She smiled again, pointed to the ball with a hoof, then to the ground. She repeated the gesture several times.

The native tilted her head again, nodded, then slowly placed the ball on the ground.

Twilight's horn glowed softly, as did the ball. The ball levitated into the air.

The native uttered a sharp gasp and stumbled back, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. She clapped her hands together a few times and babbled on in her own language, hopping up and down with a delighted look on her face. She whirled around, facing the other way, and cried out something at what must have been the top of her lungs.

Starlight's ears drew back. She peered through the trees in the direction the native was shouting and only then caught a glimpse of the native domicile a short distance away. The road they stood upon looped sharply at the north and back around to the front of the house.

Twilight's eyes widened. "Starlight, look at the back of the native's head!"

When a male voice shouted in return, Starlight was about to respond that they had bigger problems until she saw it herself: a streak of bright green down the back of the native's hair.

"I can detect the transformation spell!" Twilight cried. "I think it triggered no more than an hour or so ago. Magic is flowing into her to keep it powered, but where is it coming from? Do you see anything like a mana battery around here?"

The two natives exchanged more dialog, and now a much larger figure than the child was approaching from around the bend in the road.

"We can discuss it later!" Starlight cried. "Let's get out of here!"

"I feel like I've almost figured this out. We just need a few more minutes!"

The native child gave the two ponies a forlorn look before running up the road, just as the larger male figure appeared. He had darker hair, some of it on his face, and he held a long, thin object in his hands. He stared at the two with an expression somewhere between confusion and fear.

The native child rushed up to him, talking very quickly and gesturing wildly. In the process, she turned her head, and the larger native suddenly uttered a sharp command. The little native stopped, and the larger one picked up a few strands of her green hair. He paled and barked another order, thrusting an arm towards the domicile.

"All I can tell is that it's coming from the general direction of the more densely populated section of the town," said Twilight. "But from no one specific direction. Maybe Aunt Sunset scattered a bunch of mana batteries about town? But it would be a huge undertaking to--"

The native child fled towards the domicile. The adult shouted something at them, gesturing wildly with one hand while holding the thin object with the other.

"We don't have time!" Starlight cried. "I think that native is really upset with us."

"Then this is a perfect opportunity to open a dialog and smooth things over," said Twilight as she stepped forward.

The adult backed up a step and again shouted, this time brandishing the thin object.

"He probably thinks we just infected his foal," said Starlight.

Twilight kept walking. "Then it's imperative we strive to clear up misunderstandings like this, or we'll never--"

The trembling native started to point the thin object at them.

"LOOK OUT!" Starlight screamed, her horn blazing.

Magic flickered in a hemisphere around the two ponies a second before a sharp retort sounded from the native's position. Light flashed as Starlight's shield intercepted a tiny projectile, and then again when a second one was launched, the two impacts separated by a fair distance.

Twilight and Starlight turned tail and galloped back into the trees, the latter shifting her shield around to cover their escape, though no further shots came. As soon as they were safely away from the native, Twilight re-cast her illusion spell, and they again appeared as a pair of deer.

"That was not the best first contact scenario," Starlight muttered.

"I had gambled that a young child might be more accepting of the fantastic," Twilight explained. "And she was at first. She was even excited to see magic."

"Twilight, we were just attacked!"

Twilight sighed. "I know, but I'm guessing the male was the foal's father. He was likely just protecting his family. I just didn't expect his reaction to be so ... so violent."

"But if that's the kind of reception we're going to get--"

"He was more fearful than angry," said Twilight. "His attacks were not aimed well."

"They were aimed well enough!"

"That was just a random native," said Twilight. "We're looking for a center of government, or a local noble of some influence. I'm hoping they'll be more reasonable."

"I still say you should let me just blast everypony with a pacification spell," said Starlight. "Do you realize how fast that projectile was going? It reached us in a blink of an eye! That's not much reaction time."

"Now I'm really glad we didn't try to go straight to the source," said Twilight. "Who knows what kind of security they might have if they're that frightened of this spreading!"

"Let's just get there," Starlight said. "How far are we?"

A crude map materialized before Twilight. "According to my navigation spell, not far. As long as we keep the illusion spell going, we should be fine."





"There it is," said Twilight as she emerged from the brush.

Starlight joined her, muttering under her breath about burrs that clung to her fur under the illusion spell. She tilted her head as she gazed at the structure located on the other side of a narrow paved road. "It looks a bit less impressive close up."

The main structure had a high, pitched roof, and to one side of it was a spire. The simple symbol they had spotted from a distance -- a horizontal bar crossed with a longer vertical bar -- lay perched atop it. Several tall, narrow openings just under the roof revealed something metallic housed within it.

"Look just under the symbol, Starlight," said Twilight. "I think there's a bell inside. That would be just the thing to summon the citizens to some important meeting or audience with the local imperial governor or magistrate."

"Hrm," Starlight murmured. "It looks a little more like a schoolhouse."

"We can work with that," Twilight said. "The more intellectuals we can find, the more apt they'll be to know their older languages."

"And you still don't want me to just blast out a pacification spell?" Starlight asked as they approached the large double-doors.

"Have it ready," said Twilight. "And I'll have a shield ready as well." They stopped at the door, and their disguises disappeared. "I've maintained the silence spell so we can enter quietly. Now, stay alert, but don't act rashly."

Starlight took a deep breath. "I'll try."

Twilight nodded, smiled, and nudged one of the doors open with her magic just enough for them to slip inside. They took no more than a single step when both stopped dead.

The chamber they had entered stretched some distance before them, almost the complete length of the building. Flanking a central aisle were evenly spaced rows of polished wooden benches. Upon a raised dais was a long table covered in white cloth.

The benches were haphazardly occupied by several natives. Some sported the beginnings of transformation in the form of streaks of color in their hair. All were bent over, silent, as if in meditation.

Starlight blinked when her gaze fell upon the back of the building. Affixed to the wall just behind the cloth-covered table was the same symbol as that atop the spire, except this appeared to have a statue of a native attached to it. "Um, I don't think this is a government institution. At all."

"I'm afraid you're right," said Twilight. "We better--"

One of the natives in the benches suddenly lifted her head, stood, and started out into the aisle.

"Twilight, quick, cast an illusion--!"

The adult female native cast her eyes on them, let out a startled yelp, and stumbled back a few steps, her eyes wide and shimmering. Several other natives lifted their heads and cast concerned looks at her, until they followed her gaze and bolted to their feet in shock. Soon every eye was on them.

"Should I make with the mind magic?" Starlight murmured.

Twilight's eyes darted over the natives. "No. Nopony is acting hostile. I'm dropping the silence spell."

Starlight nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off the others.

Light flickered faintly around them, and Twilight stepped forward. She cleared her throat and said in Latin, "<My friend and I come in peace. We wish to speak with a government representative such as an imperial governor or senator. We wish to help you with your crisis.>"

A native suddenly made an urgent gesture, moving a hand to the forehead, then chest, then each shoulder.

"Was that a greeting?" Starlight whispered.

"I'm not sure," Twilight whispered back. She repeated her annoucement in Greek, but this earned only more nervous looks.

"All right, that's it, I'm going for it," Starlight said as her horn started to glow.

"No, not yet!" Twilight cried.

"This isn't working, Twilight! Again!"

Suddenly, a thin male native bolted out of the room and out a side door. The others shrank back.

"Two minutes, Starlight," said Twilight. "Give me two minutes."





Father Lyle Donovan stared at the blank document on his computer as he had for the past half hour. Beside him, his half-finished cup of coffee had long since gone stone cold. He finally leaned back in his chair and slipped off his glasses, running a hand through his gray hair. He could only keep asking himself the same question that still had no answer despite dwelling on it for the entire morning: what do I say to them?

Lyle liked to take his time when he crafted his Sunday morning sermons, thus he often penned them over the course of the entire week. He still thought of it in terms of "penning" them despite having switched to using a computer in recent years due to his arthritis. While it was only Tuesday, he generally already had some idea what to say.

The latest news coming out of the Emergency Area had robbed him of that.

Carbondale's only Catholic Church had rarely seen half the pews filled on a typical Sunday service. That past weekend, it had been packed. He expected standing room only for that coming Sunday, and a lot of people were going to be looking to him for the words of comfort that the government and media had failed to provide. He had hoped for guidance from higher up in the Church hierarchy, but even the Vatican had yet to make any formal statement.

His musing was abruptly interrupted by a rapid knock on his door. "Father Donovan! We've got a huge problem!"

Lyle sighed and rubbed his eyes. While he appreciated the volunteer work that Brad did for the church, he did tend to be a bit excitable. "Come in, please," Lyle said in a soft voice.

A thin young man with black hair stumbled into the room, his eyes wild. "Father, we have an emergency!"

Lyle gave him a level look. "Brad, calm down."

"How can you say that?!" Brad cried. "This is serious!"

Lyle folded his hands in his lap and spoke in the same fatherly tone that he used in his sermons. "Did a pipe break and flood the basement again?"

"Well, no, but--"

"Is the church on fire?"

"No, of course not, but--"

"Has someone died in the pews?"

"What?? No!"

Lyle smiled. "Then I think you can take a few moments to calm down. Deep breaths, now."

Brad did as he was instructed, and he did appear a bit more calm.

"Very good," said Lyle. "Now, what is it?"

Brad took one last deep breath and said, "There are two unicorns in the church who are speaking in tongues."

Lyle raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"I think they're unicorns," said Brad. "One has wings, too. But they're definitely speaking in tongues."

Lyle stood. "What of their coloration?"

Brad gave him a perplexed look. "Huh? What does that have to do with it?"

"Does it look like this ETS disease?"

"Oh. Well, one is sort of purple and the other is a kind of pale pink."

"Then they could very well be unfortunate victims of this terrible affliction and are seeking solace or help," said Lyle.

"But the way they're talking, Father! And the horn on one of them was glowing! What if they're possessed?"

Lyle placed a hand on Brad's shoulder. "Now, how many times have I told you that the Exorcist movies are not an entirely accurate depiction of the Church's view on possession?"

"Sorry, Father," Brad said in a sheepish voice.

"Let's see what's what and go from there, shall we?"

Lyle headed out of his office and into the church proper. He stopped short just as he came around the end of the first pew and his eyes fell upon the two creatures. Several of his parishioners had managed to push past their initial fear and were taking pictures of them on their cell phones. Lyle stared in a combination of fascination and sympathy, his mind still holding to the idea that these were people where ETS had taken its unfortunate course. While the state had been reluctant to make official predictions of the ultimate outcome, it didn't take much to guess.

As he approached, he could hear them speaking with one another. Their language was like nothing he had ever heard. It had an unusually melodic, almost sing-song cadence to it. At one point he wondered if perhaps they were singing to one another. Despite the strangeness of it, it was actually pleasing to the ears.

The purple one with the wings and horn noticed him. She said something to her companion before turning to him and taking a step forward. "<Do you understand me?>"

Lyle was initially too surprised to respond. He had not heard someone speak that in years, not since his days in the seminary. It was heavily accented, and the word choice was odd, but it was understandable. "<Yes, I can, if you speak slowly.>"

Brad's eyes widened.

A smile spread across the creature's muzzle. "<I wish to speak with your government. We want to help you with your crisis.>"

Lyle carefully parsed the words in his head. He had to fill in a gap or two, but he thought he got the gist of it.

"Father, what's going on?" Brad said in an urgent whisper. "What language is that?"

Lyle turned his head. "Brad, everyone, please, calm down. She is speaking a variety of Latin."

"<I have a means to communicate better,>" said the purple pony. "<If one of you would allow me to cast a translation spell upon you. We will learn your language.>"

Lyle had the creature repeat her request so that he understood it. He was not sure he should translate that for the benefit of his parishioners. Someone -- certainly Brad -- would get upset over the potential of "witchcraft" being involved, which would only fuel fears of possession or whatnot. He had to admit to a certain degree of wariness himself, but he wasn't willing to jump to conclusions. "<Who are you?>"

"<We are from another world.>" said the purple one. "<We know what is causing your affliction, and we want to help your people stop it.>"

Lyle had the pony repeat her response several times before he felt he understood everything. He took a deep breath and said a short prayer in his head to seek some form of guidance. His beliefs -- and the fact that this creature spoke what was once the lingua franca of the liturgy of the Roman Catholic Church -- sparked a hope that this was indeed an act of God. At the same time, the pragmatic side of him said these could be two unfortunate souls rendered delusional by their disease. In that case, he could provide for their spiritual needs, but their physical and mental state were beyond his capabilities.

"<I need a moment,>" Lyle said to the pony before turning to Brad. "I want you to call the county sheriff. Tell him we may have two extreme cases of ETS. I'll clear the others out of the church in the meantime."

Brad nodded quickly. "I-I'll get right on it, Father!" he said before running off.





Within a few minutes, the others who had occupied the benches had left, leaving only the Latin-speaking male native with the rigid collar on his shirt and the skittish, lanky native. Starlight raised an eyebrow slightly as they started chattering in their own language. She leaned over and said softly to Twilight, "I think they're stalling us."

The thin native gave them a nervous look before continuing his conversation in more urgent tones.

"Maybe they're discussing who the best one to receive the spell would be," Twilight said.

"There's only two of them now," said Starlight. "I can zap them both with the same pacification spell."

"No, not yet!"

"Twilight, this is not a government office." Starlight's gaze drifted to the figure attached to the symbol at the other end of the chamber. "In fact, this place is giving me the same weird vibe as Sunset's shrine."

"We don't have anyplace else to go," said Twilight. "We've initiated contact and have to follow though."

"Then we need to be a little more forceful about it. What if they sent those other natives away just to gather weapons or something?"

"They did look a bit scared, but I don't think they were hostile," said Twilight.

"A lot of them had those flat, rectangular thingies," said Starlight. "What if they are some sort of scanning device?"

"I highly doubt that," said Twilight. "And they had a reason to be scared. All of them are affected by the transformation spell."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Wait, what? All of them?"

"That's what's so terrible about this. Only a few were showing signs of starting the transformation, but every last one had the transformation spell structure imprinted in them. Aunt Sunset must have done exactly what she had planned. They all caught the virus, either got over the initial sickness or they're at the tail end of it, but now the transformation spell is just waiting to be powered."

Starlight glanced at the two natives. "You mean even them?"

"Yes, even them," said Twilight. She pointed a hoof at the Latin-speaking native. "I can sense magical energy starting to flow into him now. His transformation will likely start very soon, perhaps by the end of the day. Now you see why I would prefer his consent? I don't want somepony associating your spell with his transformation."

"And what about him associating it with your spell?"

"It's certainly a risk, but at least I would have established easier communication." Twilight sighed. "All right, let me prompt them again. See if you can cast a sensing ward as surreptitiously as possible so we know if somepony approaches the building."

Starlight nodded and started channeling magic slowly, her horn giving off only a faint glow.

Twilight took a step closer to the two natives. "<I am sorry to interrupt. It is urgent we proceed. Your crisis will get worse if we delay.>"

The natives conferred for another moment before the collared one turned to her. "<Can we continue to speak like this?>"

"<This language does not have translations for the concepts I need to speak. I assure you this spell will not hurt.>" The native hesitated, and Twilight could not tell if he were simply nervous about this or dubious of her claims. "<I wish to demonstrate magic to you. Point me to a small object.>"

The native considered. He turned to one of the benches and plucked something from a holder attached to the back of the next bench. He placed what looked like a small booklet with a green cover on the floor in the middle of the aisle. While the wording on it was incomprehensible, it did have the same symbol as atop the spire and in the back.

Twilight nodded. "<Thank you. This is a simple levitation spell.>" Her horn glowed, and so did the booklet. It rose into the air.

The reaction was immediate. The lanky man stumbled back in shock. The collared native simply stared, his eyes glistening with both worry and indecision.

"<This is a color change spell.>" The green cover turned blue, then purple, then back to normal. "<And a shrink spell.>" The booklet shrunk to half its size, then reverted to normal. Twilight lifted the booklet until it was at the level of the native's waist. "<You can take it. The magic will not harm you.>"

The lanky native barked a protest, but the collared one waved him silent. He reached out a hand and took the booklet. The glow faded.

"<Do you see now?>" said Twilight.

The native stared down at the booklet for a moment before saying in a low, almost reverent voice, "<Are you sent from God?>"

Twilight had hoped Starlight had been wrong, but it was obvious now that this was a religious shrine of some sort, and this native was likely a cleric or priest. Twilight paused to pick her words carefully. She had not wanted to be viewed as a monster by the populace, but what she wanted even less was to be seen as a divine avatar. "<We are not sent from God, but we come from a world which values friendship and cooperation.>" She paused. "<What is happening to your people is evil and must be stopped.>"

Twilight understood she was taking a risk by playing the "evil" card. She did truly believe that what Sunset was doing was evil -- even if Sunset couldn't see that herself -- but she knew enough about the ancient pony tribes to understand that the word could have sensitive spiritual connotations as well.

The native cleric looked thoughtful for a long moment before he finally said, "<I will do this. Allow me a moment of preparation.>"

Twilight smiled. "<Thank you!>" She turned to Starlight. "He's going to do it."

"Well, he better hurry," Starlight said. "I think I sense something approaching."

Twilight was about to reply when the lanky native suddenly uttered a shout.





"Father, have you taken leave of your senses?!" Brad exclaimed.

"Brad, calm down," said Lyle. "Nothing will be accomplished with histrionics."

"But you just said you were going to submit to their witchcraft! What am I supposed to think?"

"You saw it for yourself," Lyle said in a level voice. "I didn't feel so much as a tingle when I held the glowing prayer book."

"But this isn't natural," Brad insisted.

"Nor would powered flight or even a microwave oven appear to be natural to someone from centuries ago," said Lyle. "Yet we accept them as perfectly normal today."

Brad hesitated, his eyes flicking to the creatures again. "I don't know a lot of Latin, but I thought I heard you say the word 'Deus', and I know that means God. What did you ask them?"

"I asked if they were sent from God. She claimed not to be but stated she wanted to stop this evil which has been inflicted upon us." Lyle glanced at the purple pony. "I'm honestly not sure what's going on, other than I believe there's some deeper meaning here."

"Next you're going to be telling me this creature is an angel just because she has wings."

"I can't rule out anything," said Lyle. "And that includes the divine. Even if she was not sent from Him directly, could not some arrangement have been made to bring us help in our time of need?"

"Why can't you let the sheriff handle this?" Brad asked.

Lyle wondered that himself. All he could think of was that blank document and how he had such trouble finding the words of hope that people needed. He had not wanted to see the elephant in the room, which was his looming crisis of faith. This situation had stretched his ability to understand divine providence. Perhaps this was a calling, a path to greater understanding. "Nothing will be accomplished by shying away from the unknown. Now, I want you to go to the church steps to greet the sheriff when he arrives."

"Are you sure you'll be okay alone?" said Brad.

"I'm not sure of anything right now. That's why I'm doing this."

Brad gave the two ponies a wary look before going around them and jogging for the door.

Lyle waited until the church door had closed behind his assistant. "<I am ready.>"

The purple pony stepped forward, her horn starting to glow. "<Close your eyes and keep your thoughts calm.>"

Lyle could do one but prayed for help with the other. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, his heart thumping. If this creature were actually some servant of God, what would he feel? What would he hear or see?

He felt flushed for a moment, but that could be his own fears. Some years ago, he had a nasty bout with anxiety attacks, and a flushed sensation was often a precursor. Fear turned to excitement when thoughts and concepts raced through his head, and at once he thought perhaps this was the word of God.

He listened intently, searching for a message but finding none. Ideas and constructs flitted through his mind with no particular ordering or reason. He saw pure structure rather than meaning, clinical definitions rather than insight. It felt like reading all the books of a library in completely random order.

A bridge spanned the void into his mind, and his heart leapt. He tried to reach across the divide, but felt resistance. He sought a divine presence but came up short. Was that just his own crisis of faith rearing its head? Was he missing an important revelation? Had he missed hearing God's call even after--

I am not from God.

Lyle flinched, and his heart raced.

I apologize for the intrusion into your thoughts. Your language constructs are so different from ours, I had to reach a little further.

Lyle fought the temptation to reel from this contact. Only the thoughts of his parishioners stopped him from backing down. Before he could try to respond, the bridge vanished.

"You can open your eyes now."

Lyle heard the pony speak in slightly accented English. His eyes flickered open. Both her and her companion looked tired, as if they had just run a marathon.

The purple pony stepped up to him. "Thank you for trusting me. My name is Twilight Sparkle. My friend is Starlight Glimmer." She gave him a look both urgent and sympathetic. "I'm truly sorry to have sensed some of your thoughts. I had not intended to reach so deeply, but perhaps it was for the best. As much as you would hope, Father Donovan, we are not divine, not in the least. But we want to help."

Lyle stared at Twilight for a long moment, his eyes glistening, his heart aching. What had just happened? He felt like he had indeed had a sort of spiritual experience, but he couldn't quite place it in the framework of his faith, at least not yet. All he could say was that he saw nothing but sincerity and concern in this strange creature's gaze.

A ruckus arose at the door, and the county sheriff burst inside with several of his men. They stopped just a few pews in, the sheriff staring at the two ponies with a mix of confusion and trepidation. He took off his hat and scratched his head as he muttered, "The call had said it was bad, but I sure wasn't expecting this."

Lyle raised his eyes to the sheriff. "Things are not quite as they seem. These two were sent to help us in our time of dire need."

Twilight smiled. Starlight slowly followed suit.

The sheriff looked askance at Lyle. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that these two creatures are our friends," said Lyle. "Please treat them as such."

> Chapter 31 - Investigations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred's hooves clopped incessantly against the tiled floor as he paced back and forth. "I don't want to be cooped up in here anymore, Kevin! I know you all want to find out what caused this, but I didn't stop being an American citizen just because I have hooves instead of hands and feet."

"I understand you're frustrated, Fred," said Kevin, his voice sounding tired despite it just getting to midday.

Fred stopped and turned to face him. "No, I don't think you do. I can't even explain it myself, but being away from others like me is making me a little stir-crazy. And then I hear that ponies are gathering in shelters. Why can't I be with them?"

It had been Fred's change in mental attitude that had prompted Kevin's visit. Janet had told him that even before his descent into paranoia, Fred had been more of a loner outside the small circle of his army buddies. "As far as we know, no one else has quite progressed to your state yet."

"What about when they do? What then?"

Kevin was not the one who made those decisions, but mentioning that would only make Fred more upset. In fact, he no longer knew who was at the top of the decision chain, not since the FBI had descended en masse on the operation early that morning. He had been grilled by an agent almost as soon as he had arrived that morning. "We're taking this one step at a time. There's a sense of desperation at the moment. We still don't know who or what caused this."

Fred frowned. "I had some sort of federal agent talking to me earlier. At one point he asked me if I had ever taken recreational drugs on a regular basis. Like I would ever touch that shit! I didn't even drink, let alone do that."

"Likely to determine why you thought your companion was a little girl," said Kevin. "I'm hoping that means they're taking you seriously."

Fred took a step closer to Kevin. "I'm not sure they are. They seemed to be a whole lot more interested in me and what I've been doing the past twenty years. They're treating me like I'm the suspect, not her!"

"As far as I can tell, the FBI is treating almost everyone like a suspect," said Kevin with a slightly acid voice. "I was asked some uncomfortable questions as well."

"So you really don't know exactly what's up, do you?" Fred said.

"You know as much as I do at this point, I'm afraid."

Fred's gaze softened. "Thanks for being honest with me."

"Now, I'd like to ask you something in return," said Kevin.

Fred sat down on his haunches. "I have a feeling I know what it is."

"Do you want to be human again?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," said Fred in a low voice. "The shrinks have been needling me about that, too." He waved a fore-hoof. "Didn't you read it for yourself? They wrote everything down."

"I wanted to hear it from you."

Fred smirked. "Right from the horse's mouth, huh?" He paused. "I should be clamoring for a cure. I should be complaining about being a little colorful horse. Do you know what they fed me for dinner last night? Hay. And damned if it wasn't good, if a little bland." He lifted a fore-hoof. "Do you know what I did with this before I was taken here? I broke solid concrete with it. Just one hoof!" He glanced past Kevin. "I could bust down that door with a single buck. I've never had this much strength, even back in Special Forces. I keep thinking, what else can I do?"

"That doesn't really answer the question," said Kevin.

Fred chuckled. "I like you, Kevin. You know how to cut through the bullshit. Honest answer? I don't know." He stood and trotted around in a circle. "Everything works the way I expect it would. I can move around as easily as I could in my old body. Yeah, my table manners are horrible because I can't use a fork with hooves, but it's like my head doesn't care. It's like if you had asked me before, 'do you like being human'. The question makes no damn sense. It's just what I was. Now I'm a pony. It's just what I am."

"When I first encountered you in this hospital room, you seemed more upset at the situation," Kevin said.

"I still am," said Fred in a low voice. "But more because of all the time of my life that was wasted, and the way I was deceived." He turned his head and looked at himself. "I know I've lost something in not being human anymore, but I don't want to dwell on it." He looked back at Kevin. "I'd rather look forward than back, if that makes any sense."

Kevin looked thoughtful before nodding once. "Thank you for indulging me, Fred."

"Can you put in a good word for me?" Fred asked. "They're not going to get much more out of me. They can test me only so many times, and I can tell the feds the same story until the cows come home."

"I'll do my best, I promise."

Fred smiled faintly before Kevin turned and headed out.

Sandra met him in the hallway. "So?"

Kevin sighed. "I don't know whether to feel sorry for him or relieved that he's taking it so well."

"Everyone affected is like this, an odd form of calm acceptance." Sandra consulted her notes. "One man was brought in to a guarded hospital room rather than a shelter because he was still under arrest for assault due to an incident a few days ago. He had instigated the assault specifically because he was upset over the transformation. Now he's a lot more calm about it and even apologetic over what he had done."

"What about the reports of some sort of energy discharges?" Kevin asked.

"Those would be the horned patients. They appear to be harmless, but we have no idea what it is or what it means."

"Unicorn magic," Kevin deadpanned.

Sandra looked up and frowned. "Kevin, please, be serious."

"I am being serious. I also read that patients without horns or wings are starting to show signs of enormous strength like Mr. Turner. If it were me, I'd take precautions against the possibility that you'll have patients who can fly soon."

Sandra sighed. "We've already been over that with animal anatomical experts. Unless in their final forms they somehow become extremely light, the consensus is that their wings would not be large or strong enough to generate lift." She paused before adding in a lower voice. "But, yes, we're taking precautions anyway."

"One last thing," said Kevin. "Do you know about his desire to be with others like him?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that," said Sandra. "I have mixed feelings about it, but it's not my decision concerning him."

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were in charge of this operation."

"The medical side, yes. The criminal side, no."

Kevin frowned. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I'd advise you to talk to Mr. Heller," said Sandra in a curt voice. "You'd have more patience with him than I would."

"Where is he now?"

"I'm told he's setting up a temporary headquarters at a middle school a few blocks from here."

"Isn't that one of the designated shelters?" Kevin asked in a perplexed voice.

"Apparently there are some 'persons of interest' expected to show up at that location," said Sandra. "He wouldn't tell me who those were."

Kevin frowned. "Can you spare me for a bit here this morning?"

"Certainly."





Despite reassurances that she was not under arrest, Sarah still felt like a criminal being brought to interrogation. Anthony and one other person she assumed was another agent escorted her through the school hallway. She was hustled along such that her increasingly stiff feet were aching badly, but she couldn't bring herself to ask that they slow down.

They entered a classroom where the desks had been shoved towards the back and some simple folding tables and chairs set up in the front. Several laptops were arrayed along one side of the table, network cables stretched across the floor. Two men in lab coats sat on that side near one end.

"Please, Doctor Tanner, have a seat," said Anthony as he closed the door behind him.

He had gestured towards the chairs on the opposite side of the table from the laptops. Sarah nodded and took a seat, carefully draping her tail across her lap. She shifted her weight a few times, but getting comfortable was a losing proposition. All her legs muscles felt tight, as if protesting the position she was trying to place her body. An odd buzzing sensation flitted about the base of her horn.

She glanced at the two lab-coated men. She felt more uneasy at their scrutiny than the agent's. As if sensing her distress, one of them gave her a small smile and said, "We're here because of your advanced symptoms, Doctor Tanner. Just standard procedure."

Sarah nodded slowly, thought it didn't reassure her in the least.

Anthony took a seat opposite her. "Doctor Tanner, I want to open this by pressing upon you just how critical your assistance will be."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I understand. All I want to do is help."

"We've been watching this situation carefully ever since the Colorado Department of Health chose to declare an emergency," said Anthony. "We've escalated our involvement the moment the first report came in of wings and--" He hesitated just a second as his eyes flicked up to Sarah's forehead. "--horns."

"Because they matched the pictures of the petroglyphs?"

"I'm going to be blunt, Doctor Tanner," said Anthony. "You should've sent those photos directly to us. The media is having a field day with it. We have the fringe elements coming out of the woodwork muddying the waters even further. It's drowning out the danger that this poses."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah, a slight edge to her voice. "But I got tired of somepony out there trying to suppress me. I didn't want to risk it happening again. I had no idea at the time how serious this was going to get. For all I knew, it was confined to Lazy Pines."

If Anthony had noticed the speech aberration, he didn't show it. "I'm going to lay this out for you right now. Until we hear solid evidence to the contrary, my agency is treating this as intentional biowarfare."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"We're basing this on both the inability to locate a natural cause and the severe potential for complete societal upheaval that may result if this impacts a significant portion of the population," Anthony explained. "That would play well into an enemy's strategy."

"But who would do this?" Sarah demanded. "Who could do it?"

"As for the would, the United States has many enemies," said Anthony. "As for could, that's for the scientists to figure out. I'm more interested in the former."

"Mr. Heller, I wish I could point to exactly who did this," Sarah said. "I was prevented from finding anything beyond just a few hints."

Anthony lifted the screen of his laptop and consulted his notes. "There were two incidents of alleged evidence removal. Are you sure only the second held any hint of what was to happen?"

"Positive," said Sarah. "I found nothing, well, pony-related at the first site. What I had found were highly polished gemstones and exquisitely crafted crystals, things that had never been found in that time period in other Native American sites. I initially assumed they had been stolen for their intrinsic value. It was only when the petroglyphs were wiped that I thought someone was trying to suppress my theory."

"And your theory is?" Anthony prompted.

Sarah had trouble believing he hadn't already done a full background check on her. This was likely either a fishing expedition, or he wanted to see if she kept her story straight. The buzzing in her horn grew worse. "That some tribes of Ancestral Puebloans -- you probably know them as the 'Anasazi' -- may have had more direct contact with other civilizations in the fourteenth century, predating the earliest recorded contact."

Anthony looked thoughtful for a moment. "At any time, were you approached by someone you would term suspicious? Did anyone contact you with threats or demands?"

"No, but I was certainly afraid they would," Sarah said.

"Did you have anyone join any of your teams that you didn't recognize?"

Sarah sighed in frustration. The buzzing had become a tingling spreading through her horn. "I hand-picked everypony on my teams, Mr. Heller. I had to, considering how radical my theories were considered. I didn't want to risk taking on someone who was there just to discredit me."

"When we're done here, you will provide us with all the names you can remember."

Sarah noticed that it had been worded as a command and not a request. "I'll do my best."

Anthony typed up a few notes on his laptop. "Doctor Tanner, who else witnessed your discovery of the petroglyphs?"

"I was actually the second to see them. My assistant Greg saw them first and called me to consult."

"And to whom did you report this finding?"

Sarah hesitated. "No one."

Anthony gave her a level look. "No one?"

"I wanted to do more research," Sarah said.

Anthony leaned back in his seat. "What kind of 'research?'"

Sarah's ears twitched. She had heard the quotes around the word from his tone. "I wanted to make sure they hadn't been faked, because I knew that would be the immediate response from the scientific community."

"And did you ever do that research?"

"I didn't have time! They were wiped before I could do anything about them."

"Willful destruction of archaeological evidence is a federal crime," said Anthony. "Why did you not report it then?"

"I had my family to worry about," said Sarah. "I had to choose my priorities, and I was afraid I was under surveillance given how quickly the evidence was removed."

Anthony drew himself forward. "Doctor Tanner--"

"And even if I had reported it, would it have given you any clue what was going to happen?" Sarah said in a rising tone, the tingling in her horn becoming maddening. "I had no idea at first that silly-colored hair had anything to do with ponies, horns, or wings!"

"Doctor Tanner, why are you being so defensive?" Anthony asked.

"Because for all your claims that I'm not under arrest, you sure are making it sound like you're beginning to suspect me of something."

"This is a very serious matter," said Anthony. "I need to consider all possibilities. You are not a suspect at this time."

"At this time??"

"But I am required to inform you that any willful nondisclosure of potential evidence will be considered a serious breach of--"

The tingling in her horn was suddenly relieved, but not in the way Sarah would have hoped. She felt something akin to a weak electric current surge through her horn, and heard a sound like a crackling pop as a shower of bright sparks burst from the tip. They had barely started to rain down upon the table when Anthony bolted to his feet. Sarah's glistening eyes soon stared up at the barrel of a gun pointed squarely at her.

The two physicians immediately rushed to Sarah's side. "Mr. Heller, put your gun down!" one of them snapped. "There's no danger here."

"It was an involuntary bio-electric response," said the other. "We've started to see it this morning in patients with horns. As far as we've been able to determine, it's harmless."

Anthony lowered his weapon just as two agents burst into the room. "It's all right," he called out in a calm voice. "Everything is under control. My apologies, Doctor Tanner."

Sarah had no response, her heart still hammering.

"Sir, we have a man in the hallway here claiming to be Doctor Tanner's physician," said one of the agents at the door.

The first physician gave Anthony a cross look. "If that's the case, I strongly suggest you allow him in."

"He does have an ID issued by the Colorado Department of Health," said the agent. "It checks out."

Anthony put his gun away. "Very well, let him in."

The agents nodded and withdrew, and Kevin rushed into the room and to Sarah's side. "Are you all right?"

Sarah took a deep breath to steady herself and nodded. She found her voice, though it still quavered as she looked at Anthony. "I've told you everything I possibly know, Mr. Heller. I want to know what happened as much as you do."

Anthony said nothing and simply looked on impassively.

Kevin helped Sarah to her feet. Sarah gave him a weak smile. "It's good to see you again, Doctor Conner."

Kevin returned the smile as best he could. "I'm sorry I can no longer attend to you or your family personally. I'm more of a general resource now." He glanced over to the federal agent. "I would like to stay and speak with Mr. Heller here."

"That's fine, I want to get back to my family," said Sarah. "Thank you for everything you've done for us, we won't forget it."

Kevin's smile faded, and his eyes grew distant and cloudy.

"Are you all right, Doctor Conner?" Sarah asked.

"Hmm? Yes, sorry," Kevin murmured. "My thoughts were elsewhere. I'll make sure to check on you and your family from time to time."

"Laura is in another shelter, just so you know. The high school."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Sarah remanded herself to the care of the other physicians as they shepherded her out of the room. The words of the agent echoed in her head. Had she been too timid about reporting the archaeological theft and destruction? Had she somehow squandered an opportunity to stop this plague?

She had never associated the strange baubles of the first dig with anything fantastic outside of her own theories. Now she wondered as to what the significance truly was, or if she had been wrong in the first place, and something deeper and utterly more strange was going on.

Sarah desperately wanted to find out.





Kevin watched as Sarah was escorted out of the room. Her last words to him had caught him off guard: thank you for everything you've done. His wife had said almost those same words to him on her deathbed.

"You wanted to speak with me, Doctor Conner?" Anthony said.

Kevin turned fully towards the agent. "I'm simply glad you even let me near you. At one point, I wondered if perhaps I was a suspect due to my apparent immunity."

Anthony took a seat. "To be perfectly blunt, you were. Past tense, however. A background check on you turned up no red flags, and the Colorado Department of Health states you did everything by the book. They even commended you for your subsequent actions and continued professionalism."

Kevin sat down in the seat Sarah had vacated. "I've tried to help. I want to figure this out as much as you do."

"Which is why I've secured permission to share what information I can with you." He consulted his laptop. "I assume you wanted to see me over the dispositions of your patients."

"Yes, my primary concern is Fred Turner," said Kevin. "I want to make sure his story is being taken seriously."

"I assume you're talking about his purported contact with this little girl he described."

"That's exactly what I mean."

"We've come up empty so far on that. Unfortunately, Mr. Turner himself has a number of red flags in his background that are of grave concern to us."

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Discharged from the military under unusual circumstances," Anthony said. "History of anti-government sentiment and activity. Questionable mental state. Antisocial. Loner. Prepper."

Kevin frowned. "The last time I looked, Mr. Heller, none of those were illegal."

"I never said they were," said Anthony. "But they are warning signs. I also didn't mention the most suspicious item, one that could be considered a crime, at least by the IRS: unknown, unreported, and untraceable sources of income."

Kevin paused before venturing, "I was told he used those to build his bunker."

"Yes, which would conveniently isolate him and his activities from the public. His profile fits that of a disaffected individual who would be a likely target for recruitment by terrorists. The untraceable income suggests this may have happened."

"You cannot seriously believe he developed a biowarfare agent," Kevin said crossly.

Anthony leaned forward. "No, of course not, but someone else could have done so and passed it to him."

"And would he willingly infect himself?"

"Doctor Conner, my agency has uncovered terrorist plots in the past involving the dispersal of anthrax or similar pathogens. In every case, the intended perpetrators appeared very willing to be infected and sacrifice themselves for their cause. So, yes, we have ample precedent."

"When Mr. Turner was brought to me, he didn't appear to know what was happening to him," said Kevin with forced patience. "When he became more lucid after his transformation, he claimed he had no idea how he got that way."

Anthony nodded. "We're taking that under advisement. You'll note that we have not charged him with a crime. What we need right now are answers, and we're coming up critically short. We've had agents tearing his residence apart looking for clues and finding nothing."

Kevin ran a hand through his hair. "I honestly think you're barking up the wrong tree. I wish you would focus more attention on this companion he had."

"Right now, we have no further leads," said Anthony. "We went over his military records and the incident that led to his eventual discharge, but that led nowhere. We're doing the best we can, but the situation is grave enough, I can't worry about whose toes – or hooves – I step on."

"Then I suppose there's no point in bringing up Sarah Tanner," Kevin murmured.

"I still wish to question her further, but only because she may have had contact with whoever is behind this, even if she didn't realize it at the time," said Anthony. "Believe it or not, we're the good guys here."

Kevin's cell phone vibrated. He yanked it out, and his eyebrows rose at the caller ID. As much as he wanted to talk to Heather, he slipped it back in his pocket and let it go to voice mail. "I suppose I should be happy you're being candid with me."

"At this point, no purpose is served by being secretive," said Anthony. "Your record concerning your adherence to patients' privacy is impeccable. I'm taking a chance you'll keep things in confidence when we request it."

"I do admit, I'm rather surprised the patients in the shelters were allowed to keep their cell phones and effectively broadcast their experiences to the public."

Anthony leaned back in his seat. "That was largely the Colorado Department of Health's call. Not exactly a great call in my opinion, but they never had to deal with something like this. In most public emergencies, all people can chronicle is the inside of a hospital room or whatever natural disaster is happening that's already all over the news. By the time we got on the scene, the cat was out of the bag, so there was little point in antagonizing either the patients or the public with pointless censorship."

"Are you aware of my concerns over an influenza link?" Kevin asked.

"Very much so," Anthony said. "Mr. Turner's belongings are being tested for any sort of chemicals that could be used as growth mediums or preservatives for infectious agents, including influenza. The FAA is about to issue a directive to all US airports that absolutely no one showing either signs of influenza or ETS are to be allowed on board. Officially, for the purposes of mitigating panic, we're treating them as two separate diseases."

Kevin wished he could be content with that. He realized everyone was doing everything they humanly could, but it never seemed enough. If he looked at Anthony long enough, he thought he could see the same intense concern in the agent's eyes as well. His stomach twisted into a knot as he finally realized they could be on the brink of a sort of apocalypse, just one that never made it into either the annals of science fiction or religious dogma. "May I ask one thing, Mr. Heller?" Kevin said in a cautious voice. "May I be present if you choose to interview one of my patients again?"

"I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do." Anthony stood. "I want you to know that your efforts are appreciated." He extended his hand.

Kevin didn't hesitate. He stood and accepted the man's handshake, musing over how simple a gesture can open a bridge of trust.

Within a day, if even that, hundreds of people were about to have that ability taken away from them.





Sarah could be content with the fact that the FBI had been true to their word. Jenny had been allowed to claim a space for her mother at the shelter, another auditorium turned makeshift dormitory. Sarah hugged Jenny tightly, and for once her daughter did not try to break off the embrace early. Sarah reluctantly let go first. "Are you okay?"

Jenny flopped down onto her bedroll and curled her tail around her. "Yeah, I guess."

"Is something the matter?" Sarah asked.

Jenny reached down and tugged up a pant leg. Half her calf was covered in blue fur, a few shades lighter than that of her father's hair.

Sarah sighed. "I'm sorry."

Jenny shrugged. "I'm not upset over it. Weird is the new norm."

"It shouldn't be," Sarah declared.

"Does it matter?"

Sarah had no answer. She lifted a hand to her horn. At first, that odd discharge earlier had frightened her, now less so. She could still feel a slight buzzing at its base, though she felt in no danger of another energetic release, as if she somehow was gaining control over it, just like Laura had with her wings.

"You look like a unicorn," Jenny suddenly said.

Sarah blinked and stared.

Jenny averted her eyes. "Sorry. You don't want to hear that stuff."

"Maybe I do."

Jenny turned her head towards her mother and gave her a nonplussed look.

"It's what always made you happy, isn't it?" Sarah asked.

"It didn't make you happy."

"Maybe I was wrong," said Sarah. "I've spent the better part of the last ten years thinking I understood you as a person, and now I realize I had no clue."

"Mom, I don't even understand myself anymore," said Jenny in a quavering voice.

Sarah was quiet for a long moment before she finally said in a tentative voice, "Harry always liked listening to your stories, even if he didn't let on."

"You don't have to try to make me feel better," Jenny muttered.

"I'm not. I mean, I'm not inventing stuff just to cheer you up. He really did like listening to you."

Jenny cast her glistening eyes at her mother. "Dad used to tell me stories about stuff he did when he was a kid. At the time, they sounded like fantasies to me."

Sarah smiled weakly. "He had a bit of a rambunctious childhood."

"Then he just stopped. Then it was all about Bob."

Sarah's smile faded. "If it helps any, he realizes he took the wrong tack on that."

"It doesn't," Jenny said. "But I'm just being self-centered again."

"Jenny, please, don't say that."

"Why not? It's true! I surrounded myself with fantasies and made it all about me. I did what I wanted to do regardless of how dangerous it was."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Jenny, your aunt talked to me about you."

Jenny's eyes widened.

"She said she was worried about you after your conversation with her on the deck," Sarah said.

Jenny clenched her hands into fists. "Why the fuck did she have to tell you about that?!"

Sarah was too taken aback by her daughter's vehemence to even think about calling her out on her language.

"If I thought she was going to tell you ..." Jenny shook her head, her pink hair flying. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Jenny," said Sarah earnestly. "And, frankly, I'm sorry Harry and I didn't see this before now."

Jenny trembled and looked away.

"I think what happened to you when your were five had something to do with this."

"I still don't remember it," she said in a low voice.

"After this crisis is over, we can get you help so you can--"

Jenny snapped her gaze back to her mother. "I don't want to remember! Because if you make me remember, I'll remember that I hate my sister for not knowing what to do, for letting me get so scared I had to invent a whole other reality to ..."

Jenny trailed off. Only then did she realize tears were leaking from her eyes.

For a moment, all Sarah could do was stare despite how her heart ached. It had been so long since Jenny had cried over anything that it was simply an utter shock to see her this way. When the tears began flowing more in earnest, Sarah pulled Jenny into an embrace.

"I don't want to hate Laura," Jenny whimpered. "I don't want to hate anypony."

Sarah closed her eyes tightly. "I know," she said softly.

"I-I'm sorry I did all those stupid things."

"Shh, it's all right. Don't worry about that now."

Jenny let out a ragged breath as she relaxed somewhat. "I want to go back to the fantasy stuff. I still like it, I just don't want it to be all I am."

Sarah saw the irony in that last statement, even though she knew Jenny hadn't meant it that way. Sarah might have well been a character from Jenny's stories at this point. "Don't worry about it right now, Jenny. No matter what happens, you still have your whole life ahead of you. Don't think you have to decide right now what you want to do, or what you want to be, for that matter."

Jenny drew back and picked up her tail. "What I'm going to be is kinda being decided for me, Mom."

Sarah managed a small smile. "You know I didn't mean that. I don't exactly know what's going to happen, but, well, Laura made a good point once. She said she didn't feel sick. Do you?"

"No," Jenny said softly.

"So maybe ... maybe whatever we become, we'll still be okay somehow." Sarah thought back to her earlier musings about losing her hands and her career. She somehow managed to repress a shudder as she said, "We'll figure out something to do."





Kevin was in no hurry to return to the hospital. His hours were long, arriving while still dark and leaving after sunset, thus he had not seen the sun in days except the occasional glance through a hospital window. At the same time, the eerily empty streets were a constant reminder of the crisis. Even at the height of the flu outbreak, it had not been anything like this. Even the soldiers of the National Guard were concentrated near the shelters, as there was no need to keep the peace in abandoned neighborhoods.

He took the time to return Heather's call. "It's good to hear from you again. I'm sorry I couldn't take the call when it came in."

"I'm just sorry I have to be considered a patient and can't be helping you," said Heather in a forlorn voice.

"If you don't mind me asking, how far--?"

"I have a tail, a nice set of pony ears covered in lovely spring-green fur, and dark green eyes," said Heather. "And the tail and fur are just as sparkly as my head."

Kevin smiled faintly. "If it helps any, there's been one more person found with that crystalline effect."

"It doesn't, but nothing can be done about it."

"Where are you now?"

"Closing up shop for good before heading to a shelter."

"Come again?"

"Your office, silly," Heather said, and Kevin could see the smirk in his mind's eye. "I wanted to make sure all your records are secure. I, uh, don't want to leave my successor with a mess."

Kevin sighed. "Heather, why would I ever think of replacing you?"

"Well, there is that little thing about not having hands anymore."

Heather had been his assistant ever since he had opened the office in Lazy Pines. She had not been the most qualified of all the applicants in terms of years of experience, but she had a personality that had meshed with his at once and a gift for making patients feel relaxed. He had never once doubted his decision. Even when he went through a rough period where he could have let her go to save money, he could never bring himself to do it.

"I'm making you a promise," said Kevin, "When this is over, your job is going to be right where you left it."

"Kevin, please, be reasonable."

"For once, I don't want to be."

Heather uttered a short laugh. "Sometimes I find it so hard to believe that only a week ago we were talking about a viral marketing campaign being behind this. I wonder if this is how people of a previous generation felt during the Cuban Missile Crisis, everybody just stunned at how everything went to hell in such a short period of time."

Kevin turned a corner, and the hospital loomed ahead. "Yes, and people were expecting the world to blow up back then, too, but it didn't."

"Question is, how are the folks in your neck of the woods handling it?"

Kevin had been afraid of that question. It had only been a few days since the state had moved in, and already the sense of desperation was palpable despite their best attempts to hide it. One physician on the task force was a veteran of overseas wars and had seen more than his fair share of horror. Even he had looked spooked over recent developments.

"They're coping and still forging ahead," said Kevin. "That's really all I can say."

Heather was quiet for a long moment. "Look, um, this may be the last time we talk again for a while. Just promise me you won't try to find out what I've become."

Kevin sighed. "Heather ..."

"Please, Kevin, just ... just remember me the way I was, okay? If I feel okay with having you see what's happened to me, then I'll arrange something, but just don't go looking for it."

Kevin stopped and closed his eyes. "All right," he said in a quavering voice.

"Goodbye, Kevin."

"Goodbye."

Kevin held the phone to his ear for another few seconds, as if in hopes that Heather would magically come back on the line. He finally tucked it back into his shirt pocket and headed into the hospital.

At once he knew something was up, as the nurses at the entry station immediately paged for Doctor Marlowe the moment they saw him. "What's happened?" asked Kevin as Sandra rushed up.

"We just got word from the Garfield county sheriff's office," said Sandra. "Two fully transformed cases of ETS were found in Carbondale."

Kevin frowned. "Did I hear you right? That's almost on the other side of the state, well outside the emergency area. Why didn't we hear any reports from their hospitals before this?"

"These two patients showed up out of the blue at the town's Catholic Church," Sandra said. "There's a lot more to the story, but I only got a piece of it before the damn FBI claimed the rest of the pie and didn't share."

"So much for no pointless censorship," Kevin muttered. "What do we know?"

"They had some fantastic story about being aliens, but the names they claimed for themselves sound more like they came from the imagination of an eight year old girl."

"Dear God, I hope this a hoax," said Kevin. "Otherwise it means this disease could cause a mental aberration we're not yet aware of."

"If so, it's hugely inconsistent," said Sandra. "It apparently cured Mr. Turner of his mental issues yet instills delusions in others. That makes little sense."

"If you ask Mr. Heller, he'll tell you it would fit perfectly with a biowarfare scenario," said Kevin in a low voice.

"Well, he must think there's something to this, because he green-lighted my request to have them transferred here." Sandra paused. "The only other bit I got was something about them demonstrating magic to the priest."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "Did you say magic?"

Sandra sighed. "Please, Kevin, no comments about 'unicorn magic' again."

"Were they unicorns?" Kevin demanded.

Sandra frowned. "The patients were horned, yes. I understand, you want to grasp at anything that will give us a clue, we all do, but we have to keep a sense of perspective. Realize who the primary witness to this was, a man predisposed to believe in the supernatural."

"And yet we have the mysterious discharges--"

"Which could have a biological source we just haven't discovered yet," Sandra declared.

"I'm not advocating we buy the story lock, stock, and barrel, but I do think we should find out what the hell is going on," Kevin countered. "I've gone on record as saying I'm willing to look like a damn fool if it means figuring this out."

Sandra sighed. "I know, I'm just not used to 'magic pixie dust' being on the list of viable possibilities."





Star Singer sighed in exasperation as she placed the Farhearing Stone aside. She had spent the past hour in a vain attempt to undo Sunset's neutralization spell. She should have realized Sunset's magic would simply be too powerful or too complex for her to unravel.

She frowned as she glanced at the apparatus, which now lay quiescent, the magic in the crystals having played itself out not too long after Sunset had left that morning. Star could have kept it going easily, but she had found out all she was going to. That's what she told herself, anyway. She didn't want to help Sunset, but not helping her felt like a betrayal, not just to Sunset but her own ideals.

She had been left alone long enough that she was startled by the flash of teleportation magic.

"I don't have a lot of time," Sunset said as she trotted up. "Have you found ...?" She trailed off as she glanced at the apparatus. She frowned as she stepped up to it. "You let the spell fade?"

"There's only a limited amount of information I could glean from such a small sample of blood," said Star in a subdued voice.

Sunset levitated the vials from the center of the lattice. "You didn't have to leave them here. They'll spoil without a stasis field around them. You could've at least put them in the refrigerator."

Star frowned. "Didn't you hear what I said? There's nothing more I can discover!"

"But I could have acted on what you did find out."

Star's ears drew back. "Who said I found anything?"

"Just now, when you said there was nothing more you can discover," said Sunset.

Star clenched her teeth. "I wish you would stop doing that."

"And I wish you would stop being so obstinate."

"So does that mean you're going to go back on your word and try to force the information from me?" Star said in a wary voice.

"Nothing of the sort," Sunset said, though her voice was still terse. "But you can't blame me for being a little upset that you don't want to help. Or did you think you might help Twily instead?"

Star jerked her head towards Sunset. "What are you talking about?"

Sunset smiled. "You didn't seriously think I wouldn't put an anti-tampering ward on the stone, did you?"

Star's eyes widened before she could catch herself.

"I'm not terribly angry with you," said Sunset as she placed the vials back in the lattice and recharged it with her horn. "You had plenty of time for a corrupted Twilight to bend your ear. It further proves that you did find something significant, or you wouldn't have tried to tell her about it."

Star turned more fully towards Sunset. "And why do you think I would tell you just because you found me out?"

"Look at it this way," Sunset said in a gentle voice. "You implied earlier that my plans are delicate or precarious. If that's the case, anything that can smooth it out would be appreciated. Having some natives -- however few -- completely immune to the effects of the modified virus means potential disruption. I don't believe it will be enough to unravel my plans, but I bet you do. Do you want to see needless hurt?"

Star knew that her supposed friend was trying to manipulate her, and were she to press Sunset on the matter, Sunset would claim it to be an appeal to reason. Instead, it spoke to a much baser desire, that of smashing that smug demeanor. Star acted on the emotion before she could think better of it. "Fine, I'll tell you! You don't know the natives of this planet as well as you think you do! That little sample you gave me? Something in it is channeling magic!"

Sunset's eyes widened slightly.

Star looked upon Sunset's expression with a small measure of satisfaction. "You keep going on an on about how these natives can't use magic--"

"They can't," Sunset declared. "I've had twenty years to observe them. In all the natives I've studied, I've found zero real ability. Even those who claim ability are little more than charlatans or delusional."

Star jabbed a fore-hoof towards the crystal lattice. "Then you missed one, because something is going on that I can't explain."

Sunset approached the apparatus again, looking thoughtful. After a few moments, she said in a low voice, "We're both right."

Star raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Sunset turned to face her. "The natives cannot actively channel magic. What if this one is passively channeling it?"

"Is that possible?" Star asked in a tentative voice.

"This native is a physician who claims he's rarely come down with the ailments of his patients," said Sunset. "What if he is passively channeling magic into his immune system? The reason the modified virus is so infectious is that the magic component not only shields the modification from their technology, but it eludes their immune systems long enough to lay down the spell structure. A magic-assisted immune system would not be as easily fooled."

"Sunny, the flow I was detecting was very weak," said Star. "Even a rough extrapolation as to how much magic this native could be passively channeling overall is nowhere near--"

"I have my reasons for why I think the theory is correct," said Sunset. "Thank you, Starry, you have been very helpful."

"I didn't tell you that to help you!" Star cried. "I told you that in hopes you'd see reason!"

"I don't follow."

"You keep going on and on about how the natives can't use magic," Star said. "This could be the start of their magical awakening. They could very well start wielding magic if left on their own!"

Sunset nodded. "Of course they could. That's an obvious conclusion."

Star gaped. "And you don't think that changes your plans just a little?"

"I assume you mean other than devising a way to defeat this immunity," said Sunset. "Why would it change them? You're talking developments on an evolutionary time scale. Do you think Equestria -- or this planet, for that matter -- has thousands of years to wait before the natives can learn to lift so much as a pebble with magic, let alone use it in a coordinated manner?"

"What if you helped them develop it faster?" Star said. "Then you might have had a world that would've willingly given Equestria all the magic it could ever need just out of sheer gratitude."

Sunset paused before speaking in a soft voice. "Perhaps if this had been twenty years ago, perhaps if you had chosen to come with me when I had asked, we could've pursued that option together. It's far too late now."

Star took a slow, deep breath, struggling to fight off Sunset's attempt to make this about Star's failure. She finally muttered, "You're insane."

Sunset sighed as she turned away. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Sunset said in a sad voice. She looked towards the runic circle. "Starry, I won't force you to accept my plans. If you truly wish to go home, I will allow you."

Star hesitated before turning to face the circle. "Are you serious? You'd send me back to Equestria even with everything I know about what you're doing?"

"This end of the portal is completely locked down. The only reason I didn't do it before now is because it takes a steady flow of energy to maintain the lock. It was another reason for faking my death. I didn't want to give Celestia a reason to pursue me."

Star looked thoughtful for a long moment. "All right. I'll take you up on that."

Sunset lowered her gaze. "Very well."

"But after I do something first." Star paused. "After I sing to the stars of this world."

Sunset turned to face Star and smiled softly. "Thank you, Starry. I feel like you're giving me the chance I need to prove myself."
> Chapter 32 - Hearing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sheriff glanced at the two ponies before saying in a low voice, somewhat muffled by the breath mask he wore, "Father, you sure you want to stick around while their transportation is arranged?"

"I have no qualms being near them," said Lyle. "I'm perfectly comfortable with their presence."

"I'm more concerned about you catching whatever this is. Don't you at least want a mask or something?"

"When the flu came through town, I willingly brought communion to the sick. I didn't worry too much about whether I would become ill or not."

"Yeah, but this is something else entirely." The sheriff paused. "Are you actually buying their story? It sounds kinda far out to me."

Lyle smiled. "Let's just say I have faith that something good will come out of this."

The sheriff sighed and adjusted his hat. "Father, I consider myself a decent Christian, but this is kinda stretching my ability to see the bright side. Pardon my language, but things are going to hell in a hand-basket faster than I think people realize."

"Then will it hurt to trust these two far enough to learn what they have to offer us?"

"That decision is well above my pay grade, Father, but I guess I see your point." The sheriff glanced at the ponies again, hesitating when he saw them looking at him. "And it's not like there aren't already rumors that someone's doing this on purpose."

"And just what rumors have you heard as to potential perpetrators?"

The sheriff looked back to the priest. "They're all over the map. Russians, Arab terrorists, covered-up biological accident, space aliens." He paused. "Biblical revelation."

"While the Vatican advises that the Book of Revelation is not to be taken literally, I'm reasonably sure that's not what's at work here," said Lyle just as hoof-falls approached them.

"Um, excuse me," said Twilight in a gentle voice. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think our hearing might be a little better than you assume. We overheard most of what you said and wanted to talk to Father Donovan for a moment."

"I'll be fine," Lyle said to the sheriff. "You worry about getting arrangements made."

The sheriff glanced at the two ponies before tipping his hat to the priest and heading away.

Lyle turned to Twilight. "What can I do for you?"

"You mentioned something about the 'flu' coming through town," said Twilight. "Is that the name of a sickness?"

"Yes, it's short for influenza," said Lyle. "A common ailment that tends to affect us at regular intervals. It's generally not considered serious but occasionally has larger outbreaks."

"Has there been an outbreak recently?"

"Yes, a rather bad one, and it seems to get worse every day," said Lyle. "I haven't seen a flu season this bad for a very long time."

"Did you have it?" Twilight asked.

"Yes, I did eventually come down with it myself," said Lyle. "I got over it fully about five days ago."

"That has to be it, Twilight," said Starlight. "That's the disease Sunset used."

"Are you saying this affliction is related to the flu?" Lyle asked.

"It appears so, yes," said Twilight.

"Then that would imply this will affect me as well."

"I'm sorry, Father, but, yes, I can sense the transformation magic already at work in you. You'll likely see the effects very soon."

Lyle nodded slowly. He wondered if, had he known this from the start, he would have still tended to the sick. He wanted to believe that he would. He had often admired the priests of old who ministered to people during the Black Death, even though modern science held that their ministrations had no measurable effect in stopping the plague. It at least gave people some sort of hope or comfort.

"I thought you should know," Twilight said. "I'm sorry if this causes you any grief."

Lyle glanced down at his hands. He had lost track of how many times they had held the bread and the wine during the most sacred part of the Mass. There were days when his arthritis screamed at him, but he always pushed past the pain to do what he had felt was God's calling.

He flexed his fingers a few times. He had been having a good day. He had awoken with very little of the stiffness that was generally present in the mornings. He lowered his hands to his sides and slowly smiled. "I will still be one of God's beloved creatures no matter what form I take. I know my beliefs are not yours, but I hold them dear, and I have to trust that there is a purpose behind this."

"At least we found somepony who's taking this better," Starlight murmured. At Lyle's questioning look, she added, "We were attacked by, um, another human on our way here."

"I still maintain that he was just protecting his family," said Twilight.

"Then perhaps you can find it in your heart to forgive him," said Lyle.

Twilight's eyes glistened. "I do. I just wish I felt that way about ... well, never mind."

"No, please, tell me," said Lyle. "You're trying to help us. Let us help you as well."

Twilight sighed. "The one behind this -- Sunset Shimmer -- I don't know how I feel about her anymore. She's my aunt, and I ... I still love her, but what she's doing is so bad, I just don't know what to think."

Starlight averted her gaze. "Um, yeah. Almost as bad as creating alternate timelines to--"

"Starlight, it's not the same!" Twilight snapped. "What you did -- what you tried to do -- was easily reversed. I'm not so sure about this yet. Also, you listened to reason. Aunt Sunset hasn't. I don't know if she ever will."

"If I may make an observation," said Lyle. "You already seem to have had experience with giving forgiveness, Twilight. That's a big part of what my faith is about."

"It's part of our beliefs as well," said Twilight.

Starlight stepped forward. "Sorry to be a bit blunt about this, Father Donovan, but is your brand of forgiveness common on this world?"

Lyle paused. "Unfortunately, it is not as widespread as I would like."

"So what do you think they'll want to do with Sunset if they get hold of her?"

What immediately sprang to Lyle's mind were the Nuremberg trials after World War II. The former Nazis were shown very little mercy, and several had preferred to commit suicide rather than be subjected to its judgment. He had no idea whether the US government -- or other governments, for that matter -- would consider this an attempt at genocide. He had not wanted to dwell on it himself, but perhaps that was simply avoiding seeing another elephant in the room.

Lyle folded his hands and said, "It will likely not be pleasant."

"That's what I thought," said Starlight in a slightly quavering voice.

The sheriff called out from the door of the church. "The folks from the state are here. Time for them to go."

Twilight turned back to Lyle. "Thank you again for your help, Father Donovan. I'll make sure to mention your good will to both the people of this world and mine."

Lyle smiled and squatted next to Twilight. "Is there any sort of gesture that your kind does to express friendship?"

Twilight smiled and lifted a fore-hoof. "We touch hooves."

Lyle lifted his hand and pressed the palm to Twilight's hoof. "I hope a hand will do."

Twilight pressed her hoof gently against his hand. "It certainly will, Father. Thank you."

"Go with the grace of God, Twilight Sparkle, Starlight Glimmer."

Twilight held the touch for another moment before lowering her fore-hoof. Both she and Starlight shared a last smile with him before heading away.

Lyle stood before his legs and hips could protest. As he watched the white-coated men and women flood into the church and take the two ponies into custody, he let out a slow, relaxed sigh. Perhaps he had not found the divine revelation that he had wanted, but he had found what he and his parishioners had badly needed: a glimmer of hope.

Once the ponies were gone, he retreated to his office. He had a sermon to write.





Twilight and Starlight had been led into a self-propelled carriage by humans in white coats and wearing masks over their mouth and nose. The vehicle had a large, box-like rear section where several cots lay, obviously intended more for tall native forms than two ponies. One of the humans stayed in that section with them and seemed to be more interested in examining them rather than listening to their story.

Starlight drew the line when the human asked her to "lift her tail."

"Hey, I don't do that for just anypony!" Starlight snapped. "Let alone another species!"

"I don't think he quite meant it the way that term is used in Equestria, Starlight," said Twilight, though she was blushing faintly. "They wouldn't know our slang terminology."

"Um, sorry, ma'am," the human said. "I just wanted a better look at your hindquarters."

Starlight tucked her tail down. "You can see it fine from right where you are."

The human tilted his head as he looked at Starlight's haunches. "Is that a tattoo of some sort?"

Starlight blinked. "A what?"

"I think he means your cutie mark," said Twilight.

"Uh, okay. What about it?"

"Did you have that before you transformed?" the human asked. "Or did it appear with the--"

Starlight face-hoofed. "How many times do we have to tell you, we're not transformed humans, we're from another world inhabited by ponies like us, and we got here through a magic portal. How hard is that to understand?!"

The perplexed human simply drew back and gave her a thoughtful look.

"Starlight, please, calm down," said Twilight. "They've never had contact with another sapient species before. It's going to take a little time to convince them."

"Yes, time you said we don't have," Starlight said.

The human gave them a weak smile. "You don't exactly look like space aliens, at least not what everyone tends to expect."

"Even if you doubt our story, will you at least pass it on to your government authorities?" Twilight asked. "The sooner we can get a hearing, the better."

The human withdrew to his seat at the head of the cabin. "I can assure you, the government is very much interested in anything related to this disease."

"If I may ask, how soon will we be arriving?"

The human pulled a large, rectangular object into his lap. "About two hours or so. Should be pretty fast since I-70's been cleared of civilian traffic."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "What's an eye-seventy?"

The human paused with his hand at the edge of the device. "Uh, it's what we're on now."

"I think that's a road designation," said Twilight.

"Good," Starlight said. "Because I didn't want to think of what could possibly have seventy eyes."

The human smiled faintly before lifting his hand. The rectangular object split, becoming two thinner rectangles joined by a hinge.

The vehicle rattled as it went over a bump. "I wonder how fast we're going," Twilight mused.

"If it was anything like those other carriages -- no, um, cars? -- then it's too fast for me."

"Rainbow Dash routinely flies a lot faster than that."

Starlight lapsed into Equestrian as she said, "Yeah, but I don't exactly go riding on her back. Nothing that goes this fast should be anywhere other than on a proper set of rails."

Twilight rolled her eyes even as she kept glancing at the human. He had tilted the top part of the object back, and his fingers were tapping a group of buttons arranged in neat rows on the bottom part. "You have to admit, it does give them more freedom of movement. And please, keep talking in their native tongue. I don't want them to think we're hiding anything."

"All right, fine, but some of their sounds make my jaw ache." Starlight reverted to English as she added, "Maybe we should take this time to come up with some sort of plan."

Twilight hesitated before responding, her gaze fixed on the human. "As we get closer to town, I can take more detailed readings." She turned her gaze back to Starlight. "Whatever Aunt Sunset is using to store the magical energy, it's not mana batteries. That many in one place would give off enough of a resonance that I would detect it."

"Well, we figured that was impractical," said Starlight.

Twilight looked back to the human. "Hmm ..."

"Maybe she has them gathered somewhere further away or underground?" Starlight suggested. "But then she would need to channel it somehow. Perhaps this world has crystals like in Equestria that could be used as conduits. What do you think, Twilight?"

When she got no answer, she turned her head. Twilight had approached the human and was staring in fascination as the human's fingers moved across the object in his lap. The human finally stopped and looked at her. "Something I can help you with, ma'am?"

"This device of yours is utterly fascinating," Twilight said. "What is it?"

The human hesitated. "It's a laptop."

Starlight just gaped.

"Well, I suppose that name makes sense, given where it's situated," said Twilight. "But what exactly is it? What does it do?"

"It's a computer."

"Oh, a computation device! Yes, I picked up the general concept from the translation spell."

"You've never seen one before?" the human asked.

"We use abacus spells to do something similar. How fast is it?"

"It's got a three gigahertz processor," said the human.

"I'm not sure I quite undertsand. How many computations can it do at once?"

The human rubbed his neck. "I'm not a computer tech, ma'am, but, uh, I guess it means it does three billion a second?"

Twilight gasped. "That's absolutely amazing! I could do research at fantastic speeds with something like that."

Starlight face-hoofed.

"And Windows is still slow as crap on this thing," the human muttered.

"What was that?" Twilight asked.

"Er, nothing, ma'am."

Starlight stepped over to Twilight and said through clenched teeth, "Just what are you doing?"

"Sorry to bother you," Twilight said to the human before turning away. "Just trying to find out more about how their society and technology works, that's all. It's all absolutely fascinating!"

Starlight stared. "And you chose now to geek-out ... because??"

Twilight glanced at the human, who had turned his attention back to his laptop. She leaned closer to Starlight and said softly, "It let me get close enough to scan both him and his companion in the front part of the vehicle so I could explain something odd I was sensing."

"So what did you find out?"

"This human has transformation magic in him, but no spell structure," said Twilight. "The one in the front has the spell. Magic is flowing from this human into the other human."

Starlight blinked. "Wait, what? How is that possible?"

"Because beings that have no ability to use magic can still have magic instilled inside them so long as it's not at a level harmful to them," said Twilight. "Do you see it now? That's the solution Aunt Sunset came up with. That's why I detected humans with transformation magic in them but not the spell. She's using other humans as living mana batteries! Untransformed humans serve to supply magic to those who are transforming."

Starlight paused for a long moment. "I don't know whether to consider that clever or diabolical. Why didn't we see this before now?"

"Because we're so used to a society based on magic. Her plan would never work in that situation, as the inhabitants would just convert the magical energy into some other form."

"But one human can't hold all the magic needed for a single transformation."

"One human doesn't have to," said Twilight. "You heard Aunt Sunset yourself. This world has an enormous population, and they're clearly very social creatures. That's a vast network to draw on."

Starlight glanced at the human, who was looking at them with a mix of curiosity and concern. "At least we figured it out."

"That's barely scratching the surface. If this were on a smaller scale, I could craft a spell to disrupt the flow of magic, but it's spread too far for such a simple measure."

Starlight sighed. "So we're back at square one?"

"Not quite," said Twilight. "While I can't quite stop it, there may be a means to slow it down and buy more time. It's going to depend on what we find out from the authorities."

"If they'll believe us," Starlight grumbled.

Twilight smiled. "I believe I have the means to convince them."





When they arrived at their destination, the back of the vehicle opened up into a cavernous room where similar cars sat. More white-coated, masked humans shepherded them inside, all under the watchful eyes of other humans dressed in fabrics colored with odd, irregular splotches and carrying more formidable-looking weapons than the man who had shot at them.

"Are they supposed to be guards?" Starlight whispered as they entered the building proper.

"I would assume so," said Twilight. "Though Rarity would consider their fashion sense a total affront to her sensibilities."

"Uh, let's not risk insulting them, shall we? I'd prefer not to pit our magic against their technology. Especially since I'm starting to get hungry. I hope they at least know how to prepare proper food for ponies."

"I'm detecting a huge pool of transformation magic," said Twilight. "They surely have somepony who's been transformed far enough for their diet to change."

"Yeah, about the magic," said Starlight. "Just how bad is it?"

"Worse than I would like. This area is saturated with constantly flowing magic. I had thought I might home in on Aunt Sunset's device in hopes of retrieving it to understand better how her spell works, but I doubt I could sense it with all this interference."

"She's not about to leave it out in the open for anypony to take it," said Starlight.

They arrived at one of several small alcoves lined up against a wall and separated from the hallway by a thick drape. Inside was a padded table on wheels and equipment that bore faint resemblance to medical gear back home.

Starlight frowned. "They're still treating us like a patients, Twilight."

One the white-coated humans looked at Twilight and glanced at the clipboard he held before saying, "Miss Sparkle, if you'd kindly step in here? Miss Glimmer, you'll be in the next one."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Say what now?"

"We don't want to be separated," said Twilight. "Please, there's plenty of space for both of us in here."

"Or you could just, you know, not treat us like we're sick?"

"I would really like to speak to somepony -- someone -- in authority," said Twilight. "I can't emphasize enough how urgent this is."

Another human looked to the first one. "Did anyone page Doctor Marlowe?"

"Yes," said the first. "But I was told to give them full examinations first and assign them to a room."

Starlight rolled her eyes and turned to Twilight. "You maybe want to make with whatever little demonstration you had planned to try and convince them?"

Twilight glanced around. "There's not quite enough room, and ..." She paused before lapsing into Equestrian to add, "... and it may startle them. I'd rather have an audience limited to someone who would be more apt to be calm and who has some influence."

The humans exchanged confused looks. The first one said, "Uh, Miss Sparkle--"

Twilight smiled. "Please, just call me Twilight."

"Twilight," the human said. "Were you singing just now?"

Twilight chuckled. "No, that was just my native language, though I can understand why it sounds like that to you."

The first human said, "We better have Doctor Marlowe paged again."

"I'll try, but she's very busy today," said the second. "There's an ongoing acceleration of symptoms in the first shelter."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Starlight, did you hear that? The condition is accelerating! It must have something to do with the available pool of magic. The more magic, the faster it goes." She turned back to the humans. "We're running out of time. It's urgent we talk to someone in charge."

"Ma'am, we'll do everything we can to arrange something, but please, we need your cooperation," said the first human.

Twilight considered. "I'll make you a deal. Keep us together, and we'll submit to whatever examination you want to conduct."

"Uh, we will?" Starlight murmured.

Twilight jabbed a fore-hoof into Starlight's side without taking her gaze from the human.

Starlight sighed. "Fine, we will. But stay away from my tail, okay?"

"Let me make a note of this," the first human said as he grabbed a slim metal object from the top of the clipboard. It snagged and fell out of his fingers yet never hit the floor. When the human looked down, he saw it hovering in mid-air, surrounded by a purple glow.

Twilight stepped forward, her horn glowing as well. "Oh, is this a writing implement? I think it's called a 'pen.' It's supposed to be their equivalent of a quill, but where's the writing tip?" She found and depressed the button at one end. She heard a click, and an ink-covered point appeared at the other end. "Oh, my, that's so clever! Look, Starlight, it even has ink on it already. It must have an internal ink reservoir. So clean and efficient!"

Starlight shook her head. "Please, pay no attention to her, she's a total nerd even in our world."

The humans just stared in silence until the first one said, "Um, can I have my pen back?"

"Oh, yes, my apologies." Twilight started to lift the pen, but hesitated and pressed the button again. "There. Don't want to cause a mess."

She levitated it until it was level with the human's face. He reached out a tentative hand and grabbed it, the glow fading a moment later. He turned to the others. "I don't care how busy Doctor Marlowe is, get hold of her ASAP."





Starlight paced the length of the hospital room. "When they said they were going to examine us, I didn't think that meant they were going to poke us with needles."

"Yes, but they knew exactly where our veins were," said Twilight from where she sat on her haunches on one of the beds, her horn softly glowing. "That means they have at least some of their kind who have fully transformed."

"I don't care that they knew what they were doing, it hurt!"

"Oh, stop it, it wasn't that bad."

"I guess I'm used to Equestrian healers who use more painless methods for that sort of thing." Starlight glanced at Twilight. "And what exactly are you doing?"

"Trying to get a better reading on the flow of magic in this town," said Twilight.

Starlight stopped pacing and faced Twilight. "Any chance of stopping it?"

The glow faded from Twilight's horn. "A brute force approach is not going to work. Maybe if I had the other Princesses here right this moment, we could do it, but the available pool of transformation magic is just going to keep growing. We have to come up with another solution. Either that, or a phased approach: stop the spread of the transformation, then worry about what to do about those already transforming. It's going to depend on how many humans have the spell."

"Can you counterspell it?"

"If I have a human with the spell structure in them that I can study, yes," said Twilight. "The problem is one of scale. How do we deliver it to everyone before they transform? If this were Equestria, we would just dispense spell scrolls to unicorn healers and they'd do the rest."

"Then we better hope that these humans have some sort of whiz-bang technology that can help," said Starlight.

Twilight was about to reply when her ears swiveled. Both her and Starlight turned their heads towards the door a moment before it opened, admitting a female lab-coated human with long blonde hair and cradling a thick set of folders in one arm. Dangling from a pocket of her coat was a white rectangle with a picture of her upon it. She hesitated with her hand on the door knob as she looked over Twilight and Starlight before closing the door behind her. "My name is Doctor Sandra Marlowe. I'm in charge of the emergency zone operations, at least the medical side."

Twilight hopped off the bed. "We've been waiting to speak with someone in authority."

"So I've been told," said Sandra. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

"I'm going to get right to the point, Doctor Marlowe," said Twilight. "I need to leave no doubt in your mind as to our origins. Now, one thing I've gathered about your world is that transportation is very important to you, correct?"

Sandra hesitated. "I'm not sure what that has to do with anything."

"Please, humor me."

Sandra slowly nodded. "Yes, it is."

"You value being able to get from point A to point B as fast as possible."

"I would say that's a correct assessment."

"Then if you had a means to instantaneously cover that distance, you'd use it in a heartbeat," said Twilight. "Your language even has a word for it."

"What word would that be, Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight's horn flashed. In an instant, she vanished with a loud pop of imploding air and reappeared on the other side of the room. "Teleportation," she said. "And, please, call me Twilight."

Sandra paled, and the folders nearly fell from her arms. The door behind her burst open, and two humans in guard uniforms entered.

Starlight's pupils shrunk. "Twilight--!"

"No, stay calm," Twilight said.

"At least raise a shield!" Starlight muttered.

"It's all right."

One of the guards glanced about the room before saying. "We heard an unusual noise in here. Is everything all right, Doctor Marlowe?"

Sandra took a deep breath. "Yes, it's fine. Disregard it."

The human looked dubious, but he eventually nodded. He and his companion left, closing the door behind them.

"Talk about being on edge," Starlight murmured.

"It's okay, they're understandably upset over this," said Twilight before she turned to Sandra. "I'm sorry if I startled you, but I don't have time for lengthy explanations. I deduced you had no technological equivalent of teleportation and thought it would make an impression."

"Some of our patients have horns like you and your companion," said Sandra. "Does this mean they'll be capable of doing things like that soon?"

"Teleportation is rare even among my kind," said Twilight. "It's a difficult spell to master and took some time to develop. But given the purpose behind this mass transformation, I would imagine they would be capable of simple things like levitation."

"We have patients with wings," said Sandra in a halting voice. "Will they be able to ..."

She trailed off when Twilight extended her wings and hovered in the air before her.

"Fly?" said Twilight. "Most definitely yes."

Sandra appeared to take a moment to collect herself. "Please realize that your story still sounds fantastic to us, even with everything that's happened. From what I've been told of your conversations with each other and staff, you're claiming this is all based on magic."

Twilight landed and folded her wings. "Because it is. Magic is real, your species just can't tap into it. Magic is not what you might think, Doctor Marlowe. It's not just sleight-of-hoof -- er, hand -- or misdirection. It's not haphazard, either. It has its own laws and structure, just like physics does."

Sandra drew her folders from her chest and started to flip through them. Her hand trembled slightly, and a folder slipped free and fell. She was about to bend down to pick it up when it floated in the air before her.

"Um, you dropped this," said Starlight.

Sandra stared at the glowing folder.

"The magic won't hurt you," said Twilight. "It's safe to touch."

"Thank you," said Sandra as she grabbed the folder. "But the magic you claim is behind ETS apparently is harmful." At Twilight's perplexed look, Sandra added, "Equine Transformation Syndrome. It's what we're calling this affliction."

"The transformation magic is being purposely used against you in this case," said Twilight.

Sandra opened the folder she had been looking for. "I have your initial statement to the Garfield county sheriff. Are you saying this really is intentional biowarfare?"

Twilight hesitated. "I only just learned your language today and don't quite know all of its nuances yet. If I understand the root words correctly, you're asking if this was an attack as part of organized warfare. Equestria -- my homeland -- is not waging war on you. We find what's happening to you abhorrent. This is the work of a single, very badly misguided pony. I even mentioned her name: Sunset Shimmer."

"Yes, and that name was forwarded along," said Sandra. "No one by that name can be found."

Starlight stepped forward. "I doubt she's going by her real name."

"You're probably right," said Twilight. "Our names wouldn't quite fit with their culture."

"Do you have a description?" said Sandra.

"I don't know what form she's taking on your world," said Twilight. "But in her pony form, she would be a unicorn with a pale yellow coat, and bright yellow and red mane and tail. She has a red and yellow sun as a cutie mark."

Sandra paused. "I'm sorry? Did you say cutie mark?"

Twilight pointed to Starlight's haunches and then her own. "These are cutie marks. Have none of these appeared on your transformed people?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Starlight turned towards Twilight. "It didn't for Derpy either until later."

"Is there some significance to this mark?" Sandra asked.

"We can discuss that later," said Twilight. "I'll reiterate that we want to help you stop this, but I need to know how bad it is. How many humans have come down with influenza?"

Sandra stared for a long moment. "Influenza? Are you saying there really is a link?"

"Yes!" Twilight declared. "It's the delivery mechanism for the transformation spell. Anyone who's come down with influenza will get the spell and will eventually transform unless we put a stop to it!"

"We ... we've found no difference between this influenza and the one that went the rounds earlier in the season."

"I imagine the magical component is invisible to your technology," said Twilight. "But it is there, and it's likely preventing you from developing any sort of resistance to it."

"Then how do you explain how a person can be immune to it?" Sandra demanded.

Twilight's mouth dropped open.

"Did I hear her right?!" Starlight said.

"You have someone who's immune to it?!" Twilight exclaimed.

"Well, yes, but we don't know why--" Sandra began.

"Can I see him? Can I talk to him? Please, this could be the breakthrough we're looking for! I also would like to study someone who has the transformation spell so I can craft a counterspell. We want to help, but you have to let us!"

Sandra uttered an exasperated sigh and covered her eyes with her free hand for a moment. "This is all happening very fast in a situation that is already moving at a rocket's pace. Also, there are certain decisions I'm not authorized to make. Let me confer with someone who is."

Twilight exchanged a look with Starlight before saying, "Can you at least help us come up with a plan to combat this? Can you give us information on how far this has spread?"

Sandra paused, looking uncomfortable. "If you mean those with active ETS symptoms, we're estimating about one hundred thousand, but that number has been going up hourly."

Starlight's eyes widened.

"If you're talking about influenza cases ..." Sandra hesitated before continuing. "We're not sure. So many reports are coming in that the servers of the various state health departments are crashing. It may be over two million."

Twilight gasped. "Oh, dear Celestia ..."

"If everything you're telling us is true, Twilight," said Sandra. "Do you really think you two can stop this?"

Twilight swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Maybe not alone, but we all work together, we'll have a chance. We have to try."





"Well, at least that's one universal," said Starlight as she pushed the tray away that contained the remnants of her dinner. "Hospital food is lousy no matter what universe you're in."

Twilight didn't respond or appear to hear her friend. Her own dinner had been largely untouched, and she hovered in the air near the window, her gaze lifted to the darkening skies.

"Twilight, please, have something to eat," said Starlight softly.

"I'm not terribly hungry," said Twilight without looking away from the sky.

Starlight hopped out of bed. "Nothing is going to be accomplished by starving yourself."

Twilight landed with a sharp clop of her hooves. She turned around as she folded her wings. "The scale of this problem is far larger than I had anticipated. All the solutions that come immediately to mind -- Interfering with the magic flow, draining magic out of humans acting as mana batteries, removing the transformation spell from those who are not very far advanced -- all of these are viable options, but how to do them on a larger scale? If only this world had magic users! They could be taught the necessary skills to do this at the local level."

"Isn't the goal to work with the humans to find a solution?" Starlight asked.

"Yes, I know, and that's still true. But where they're having such trouble trusting us, I wanted to have more to offer them up front."

Starlight considered for a long moment. "Then maybe we have to make some very hard decisions."

Twilight turned to her. "What are you talking about?"

"If we wind up having to act on our own, maybe we have to admit that we can't save this whole world. Maybe we have to instead focus on helping them preserve what they can."

Twilight frowned. "I don't like where this is going."

"I don't particularly like saying it, but I'm being realistic. Could you prevent a transformation by thaumic isolation? Just cut off all magic inflow?"

"Yes, but I can't isolate everyone in the world!"

"That's my point," Starlight declared. "But maybe we can arrange for gathering as large a group as we can handle, isolate them, counterspell them, then--"

"Starlight, you're talking about limiting the survivors of this to maybe ten or twenty thousand."

"Then we go from place to place gathering as many humans in a single location as possible. We do it as many times as we have the energy to do so."

"You're still talking about saving a few hundred thousand or so, maybe a million if we're lucky. Out of seven billion!"

"I don't like it, either!" Starlight exclaimed. "But I'm out of options as well."

"And what do we do about those who are transformed?"

"Everything seems to be pointing to it being permanent," Starlight said in an uneasy voice.

"I refuse to believe that," Twilight said. "A morphic resonance doesn't have an inherent limit on the number of times that it can be changed."

"That we know of. How many permanent transformation spells have there been before this one?"

"There has to be a way to--"

Twilight's words were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Before either could reply, the door opened, and a man with dark hair and a suit entered the room. Two similarly dressed men stood behind him. The human's eyes darted around the room as if in silent assessment before he said. "You will both come with me."

Twilight trotted up to him. "Are you someone in authority?"

"You could say that," said the human. "I want to ask you some questions."

"We've answered a whole bunch already," said Starlight with a sigh. "What's a few more?"

They headed off with the human, he and the other two forming a tight triangle around them as they were herded through the hallways of the hospital. Their hands lay on objects held in holsters at their waists.

They entered a room with a large table in the center and chairs on either side. They were directed into two seats next to one another, a human standing behind each. The dark-haired one took a seat opposite them, a laptop opened before him. "My name is Anthony Heller," said the human. "I'm in charge of the criminal investigation of this incident of biowarfare."

"As I told Doctor Marlowe, this is not biowarfare," Twilight declared. "My world is not waging war on you."

"Yet you told her that this is being done intentionally. That, to me, implies someone waging war on us, even if they allegedly don't have a government backing them."

Twilight sighed. "I won't argue semantics with you, as there's more important concerns."

"Yes, like who's behind this attack."

"I already provided that information."

"Which came up empty."

"Did you follow up on the description I gave?" Twilight asked.

"I'm in the process of doing so," said Anthony. "Nearest match is a person assigned to the first shelter by the name of Sadie Sommers, nickname 'Sunny'."

Twilight's eyes widened. "That's has to be her! Sunny is a nickname she used for herself for as long as I've known her on my world."

"I have yet to interview her," said Anthony. "As the medical experts are telling me she's at a stage of her transformation where she cannot move without great difficulty. Her record, however, is squeaky clean."

Starlight frowned. "Of course it would be. She likely invented a whole background for herself and used magic to make it stick."

"Yes, let's talk about that," said Anthony. "You've both used the word 'magic' a lot."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Twilight.

"It seems very convenient. A modification to a virus we can't see? Magic. The alleged perpetrator having absolutely no connection to foreign powers or terrorist groups? Magic."

"She is not a from this world!" Twilight declared. "And she works alone. She wouldn't have any contact with those groups."

"You both mysteriously appear out of thin air?" Anthony continued as if Twilight hadn't spoken. "Magic. A transformation we can't explain with known biology? Magic."

Twilight face-hoofed. "Do I need to do yet another demonstration?"

"Miss Sparkle--"

"Twilight."

"--I don't deny you can do these fantastic things," said Anthony. "I'm simply following Clarke's Law."

"I'm not familiar with that," said Twilight.

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," said Anthony. "I want to know what that technology is, and none of us are leaving this room until I have an answer."

"This is exactly what I was afraid of, Twilight," said Starlight. "They think we did this."

"Can you blame me for being suspicious, Miss Glimmer?" said Anthony. "Perhaps you're not aware that your conversation in the paramedic van was carefully noted. You appear to have foreknowledge as to who does and does not have ETS."

"I only discovered that when I purposely scanned him," said Twilight. "Maybe you should also note that we had our discussion -- all our discussions -- out in the open in your language."

Anthony considered. "Regardless, you both have exhibited powers we have no explanation for, just like we have no explanation as to what's happening to a rapidly growing number of citizens in this country. Perhaps I'm not directly accusing you of starting this plague, but I can't help but be wary of this situation."

"I've stated from the very start that we want to help," said Twilight. "Yes, we come from the same world as the one who's doing this to you. We didn't even know she was doing this until fairly recently, and we're doing everything we can to stop her."

Anthony leaned forward. "You can help by explaining the technology behind this affliction and your abilities."

"It's not that simple, and I'll have to use that word you seem to be adverse to hearing: magic. Just because you don't understand it doesn't make it any less real. I can do my best to explain to your scientists the theories behind it."

Anthony laced his fingers together. "Try explaining it to me, Miss Sparkle."

"All right, I'll try," said Twilight. "Magic starts as undifferentiated thaumic energy. It just sits there in a world-permeating field. A unicorn can tap into this via a spell, which is what gives structure to magic. A spell works in two phases. First, it converts an amount of thaumic energy into one or more specific magicks, of which there are thousands of varieties. This is called 'casting' the spell. Second, the energy is directed towards a given application. This is the 'execution' phase of the spell. That is when the intended effect is realized. Are you with me so far?"

"So far," said Anthony in a neutral voice.

"Sunset Shimmer developed a permanent transformation spell and modified an influenza virus to implant the spell into infected humans. The influenza infection is the 'casting' stage. The spell structure is laid down, and thaumic energy is converted into transformation magic. The buildup is slow, as the virus itself is generating the energy. But the total amount of energy needed to effect the transformation cannot be safely stored in one human. Thus the spell was designed to store this energy in non-infected humans. They act as batteries, providing energy for the execution stage of the spell. The reason you can't see all this is because your species is magic-blind."

Anthony remained silent, looking both thoughtful and expectant.

"Can't you see a self-consistent logic here?" Twilight demanded, her voice tinged with desperation. "Doesn't it fit with your observations? Don't you see the implications here?! You're not going to stop this alone!"

Anthony considered for another long moment before saying, "And yet we 'magic-blind' humans have someone who's immune."

"I want to know why myself, as it could mean another chance at stopping this!"

Anthony sighed. "This doesn't appear to be getting us anywhere."

"There's the understatement of the year," Starlight muttered.

Twilight took a deep breath. "Mr. Heller, you spoke of me having powers. Yes, you're right."

Her horn flashed, and she disappeared in a pop of imploding air. The two humans standing behind the chairs bolted back a few steps and reached for their weapons, eyes darting about the room. "Sir, do we report a security br--?"

Before the human could finish, Twilight reappeared in her seat, her horn glowing, the food tray with her untouched dinner in her magical grip. She let it fall with a loud clatter to the table, bits of fruit, vegetables, and salad greens scattering about.

"I just teleported to my hospital room and back in, what, three seconds?" said Twilight in an irritated voice. "I brought the tray just in case you needed proof." Her horn glowed again, and a glittering sphere formed around her. "This is a shield spell. If you tried firing your weapons at it, they'd do no good." The shield disappeared. "See how I have both wings and a horn? I'm a special kind of pony called an alicorn. There are only four others like me in all of Equestria, and two of them are our rulers. The point is, I'm powerful. You can't keep me locked up if I don't want you to, and you can't hurt me, not with the resources you have right now. With all that power, if I truly wanted to hurt you or your people, you'd have a lot of trouble stopping me. My companion here is not an alicorn, but she's powerful in her own right."

Anthony looked thoughtful for another moment. "If you are so powerful, Miss Sparkle, why don't you fix our problem yourself? Why even involve us?"

"Because I'm not all-powerful," said Twilight in a softer voice. "I have limits. I stated you can't hurt me with what you've presented so far. I have little doubt that you have weapons of sufficient strength to hurt or kill me. I also don't fully understand how your world or your society works. I need your help as much as you need mine."

Anthony lifted a hand to his chin, his eyes darting from Twilight to Starlight and back before rising to the other humans. "Opinions, gentlemen?"

The others exchanged a look before one spoke. "Sir, this is beyond anything I've ever experienced. All I can say is that there was a police report of a Carbondale resident shooting at two ponies."

"That was us," said Starlight.

"The man said it was like the shots just ... bounced off."

"That was a shield spell," said Twilight. "And I'm very grateful to Starlight for casting it."

Anthony wiped his face with his hand and let out a slow sigh through his nose.

Twilight placed her fore-hooves on the table and leaned forward. "Mr. Heller, we willingly submitted to scrutiny, examination, testing, and now interrogation, even though we had the power to avoid all of it. We were attacked and took no retaliation whatsoever. I'm not sure what else I can say or do that will prove my sincerity." She paused. "If it helps any, I have a formal title back home, one that I earned rather than was bestowed upon me: the Princess of Friendship."

Anthony lowered his hand and tapped a forefinger on the table for a few moments before rising to his feet. "I'll take this under advisement. This interview is over." He looked at the other humans. "Return them to their room."

Twilight and Starlight hopped off their chairs. "Does this mean you believe us?"

Anthony took out a thin, rectangular device. "I said I would take it under advisement," he said in a terse voice before raising the device to his face.

"Come along," said one of the other humans.

"Yes, connect me to the Director at once," said Anthony. He glanced at Twilight, meeting her forlorn look with a clouded gaze. The door closed, cutting him off from view, but her ears just faintly picked up the words, "You better get the President on the line as well."

> Chapter 33 - Portents
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So my family moved around a lot," said Laura in a soft voice. "We rarely stayed more than about two years or so in any one place. Mom wanted to be close to her work, so when she finished researching one site, it was on to the next."

"Still, that must've been neat, seeing all those archaeological sites."

Laura tried to identify the speaker. A group of about eight people had gathered in a loose circle. Three had wings including her, two had horns, and the other three had neither. Legs and hips had become more equine such that sitting down was far more comfortable and standing a near impossibility. It had also frustrated all attempts to adjust clothing to suit, thus it had been easier to simply dispense with it. There had been some initial embarrassment at wearing nothing more than underwear below the waist, but they had gotten over it fairly quickly.

Her eyes fell on Joan. Laura smiled faintly. "Yeah, it was kinda nice, but it was really hard to make friends. I had to keep starting all over again."

"Is that why you hardly ever mingled with anyone at school?" Emma asked.

Had that been asked of her as little as a week ago, Laura would have balked at the question and never would have let herself be part of such a large group. Once a gathering grew to about two or three, she had tended to shut down. Now she was not only more relaxed but eager for the social contact, as if it had become a necessity rather than a luxury.

Her new circle of friends didn't just vary by what appendages they sported or the colors of their fur, hair, and feathers. They were a mix of fellow students, one teacher, and adults she had never met before that day. "That's one of the reasons," said Laura. "Not the whole story. It's kind of complicated."

"Does it have anything to do with what we talked about yesterday?" Emma asked. "The class president thing?"

Laura shuddered slightly, and her wings rustled. "A little."

"I never knew why you didn't run for that position," piped the girl named Kelly, the first one to have had an incident with her horn. "You would've been a shoe-in. I would've voted for you."

"Same here," said Emma.

Laura blushed but smiled faintly. "Thank you. It's just ... well ..."

Her glistening gaze flitted among the others. She had trouble considering them strangers anymore. Didn't they share a common bond now? She shifted position and discovered that joints had migrated even further. The movement of her hooves seemed more natural. She was all but fully pony below the waist, as were the others.

Laura took a deep breath. "It was something that happened when I was eight, back when we lived in Nebraska, before Mom's career really took off ..."

She told them the whole story of the storm, the tornado, her terrified little sister, her indecision, and Jenny's story of the weather wizard and his failed apprentice. "So I've been spending all this time trying to make up for it, trying to show how responsible I really could be," said Laura. "But I guess I was still afraid of taking on too much, of failing again. That's what really scared me: being in a position of enormous responsibility and choking again when it really mattered, and this time somepony would get seriously hurt."

Emma uttered a shaky sigh and wrapped a wing around Laura. "Wow, Laura, that took a lot of guts to come out and tell us that."

Laura shook her head. "Not really. I just ... I don't know, it just felt like it was finally the right time to tell somepony about it."

Joan briefly snuggled close to her as well. "I think you did the best you could, especially considering you were only eight."

"Thank you," Laura said in a steadier and more relaxed voice. The contact felt good. She had been on the verge of tears, but now she felt so much better. She lifted her gaze to find the others giving her support even if only with their eyes. Before she could express her appreciation of their support, she was abruptly pulled into a tight hug. Only when she saw a lock of red-streaked yellow fall over her face did she realize who it was. "Sunny??"

"Sorry, Laura," Sadie said in a quavering voice. "Your story was just ... well ... it sort of hit me kind of hard."

Laura hugged her back. "I didn't even know you were here."

Sadie broke off the hug, smiling, her eyes glistening, "I joined when you started your story in earnest. I didn't want to interrupt."

"I'm sorry if it upset you."

Sadie shook her head. "Don't be. It's a bit of a long story why it affected me. Let's just say I know what shouldering a huge responsibility feels like." She hesitated. "Not to mention the fear that those close to you will resent you even when you feel you're doing the right thing."

"I don't think Jenny resents her," Emma said.

"I really hope not," said Laura. "Sometimes I wish I really were some sort of weather-controlling wizard like in her story. I've hated big storms since then, regardless what kind they were."

Emma chuckled. "And you live in Colorado, which is, like, snowstorm-central."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it. At least there won't be any more like that this season."

None of the other winged women contradicted her. The others, however, exchanged confused looks. "That's not what they were saying on the weather.gov site," said Kelly.

"I'm sorry?"

"They were predicting a wet April. Lots more snow."

"No, it's going to be drier and warmer," said Laura.

Kelly stared. "How do you know that?"

Laura hesitated. "I'm not sure. I just--" Before she could continue further, her cell phone rang. She reached over to take it only to find that she couldn't. "Oh, dear."

She held up her hand. The fingers had bent, almost as if to clench into a fist but not quite. She could barely move them, and from the topmost joint to the nail they had fused together. The wrist was bent downward slightly. The fur had advanced down her arms to her elbows.

"I hadn't even noticed it was happening," said Laura in a halting voice.

The others exchanged bemused looks and glanced down at their own hands, only to find themselves in similar straits.

Laura looked at her phone as the ringing stopped and the "missed call" message appeared. "It's my mother. I really wanted to talk to her again."

"I was supposed to call my husband," Joan said in a glum voice. "I got wrapped up in our discussion and forgot."

Kelly looked down at her own useless hands. "I was hoping this wouldn't happen until we had actual hooves. Now what?"

Sadie glanced around for a moment before lowering her head such that it was hidden in the huddle of Laura's friends. "Laura, do you have a stylus for that phone?"

"Yes, but I hardly ever use it," said Laura.

"Where is it?"

"In my bag." Laura pawed at the bag as best as she could with nonworking fingers. "Down in there, but I can't grab it."

Sadie nodded. "Now, everypony, please, don't react too strongly to this, okay? I only just learned how to do this, and I'm sure it will make the powers-that-be here nervous."

The others nodded, the horned ones more eagerly.

Sadie smiled, and her horn started to glow. The similarly glowing stylus rose from the bag. Laura's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Several others gasped.

"Shh," Sadie whispered.

"B-but how are you--??" Laura began.

Sadie shook her head and gave her an urgent look. Laura swallowed and nodded as the stylus moved as if by an invisible hand and punched up the contacts list on Laura's phone. It selected the option to call the number just before the phone itself glowed and rose from the floor.

"Here, Laura, I'll hold it for you," said Sadie.

Laura smiled. "Thank you!" She placed the side of her head to the floating phone. "Hi, Mom."

"Sunny, h-how are you doing that?" Kelly asked in an awed voice.

"With my horn," said Sadie. "And a little concentration."

"Can ... can you teach me how to do that? Please??"

"Me, too!" piped another horned woman. "I want to learn that, too!"

Sadie smiled. "Let me see what I can do ..."





Jenny stared at her bare feet, the fantasy novel she had been reading to pass the time sitting face-down next to her. Like her mother, her feet had started to feel cramped inside her sneakers, and now they appeared distorted, the ball of the foot pulled down, the muscles stiff and achy. She didn't have to lift the pant leg to know the fur nearly covered her thighs already.

She knew as assuredly as she knew her own name that she would have hooves by morning, yet she had made a sort of peace with it that she never thought possible. She was going to be a little blue-and-pink pony in another day or so, and it seemed for all the world to be a natural state of affairs.

Yet something in that thought still made her shudder. It was like you had predicted it. That was what James had said to her earlier. She had dismissed it out of hand and intended not to think on it anymore. The idea was preposterous; she was just a mixed-up girl with a few screws loose who liked to live in her own fantasies. Jenny was no longer under any illusions about her intentions; she knew that, had her fantasies been a novel, the "peasant girl" would be a blatant self-insert.

Yet why include herself at all instead of remain the anonymous narrator like she always had done? Why a lowly peasant girl? Why not a princess? Or a queen? After all, she was supposed to be self-centered. Why not give herself more of the spotlight all the time?

Why not a character who might be excluded from the effects of the errant magic of a "Fae Queen?"

Her mother's frustrated sigh interrupted her thoughts. She turned in time to see Sarah lower her cell phone and say, "Why won't she answer?"

"Maybe she went to the bathroom or something," said Jenny. "Or they're doing some sort of test on her or whatever."

"I hope so," said Sarah. "Are you all right? You've been really quiet since we talked earlier."

Jenny shrugged. "Just thinking of stuff."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Your fantasy stuff?"

"Um, maybe."

"It's what I said before, it's not all that you are."

Jenny folded her arms and drew her feet towards her, even as her leg muscles protested the move. "I'm not sure of that anymore." She paused a long moment before saying, "I knew her secrets."

"I'm sorry?"

"The peasant girl," said Jenny. "She knew the secret of the Fae Queen, that it was her magic causing the people of the kingdom to change and--"

Sarah's phone rang. "Jenny, I'm sorry, but this is Laura." She raised the phone. "Laura, thank God, are you all right?"

Jenny wanted to tune the conversation out, but her heart ached at the mention of Laura. Earlier she had feared she might resent her sister if she truly remembered what had happened when she was five. That was fading now, as if her situation somehow had rendered such things too petty to dwell upon.

Sarah suddenly let out a distressed, shaky sigh. "Laura ... I-I don't know what to say. I wish I could be there to help you."

Jenny closed her eyes. She could almost imagine what might be happening to her sister: fur sprouting everywhere, her body becoming more like a little horse every hour, maybe her hands starting to become hooves. In her fantasies, Jenny had never gone down to the detail of how the Fae Queen's magic changed her subjects, but the way the real thing was proceeding simply made sense to her.

"I'm very glad you took the time to call me back one more time," said Sarah in a soft voice. "I, um, don't think we're far behind you." Sarah suddenly chuckled weakly. "Yes, these bright colors should make it easy for us to recognize each other."

Jenny opened her eyes and swallowed hard. "Mom, I-I want to talk to Laura."

"Just a second, honey," said Sarah. She looked towards Jenny. "I'm sorry?"

"I want to talk to her," said Jenny. "Please."

Sarah slowly smiled and nodded. "Laura, Jenny wants to talk to you for a bit. Is that okay?" After a moment, she handed the phone over.

Jenny took the cell phone in her trembling hands. "Uh, hi."

"Hi, Jenny," said Laura in a more cheerful voice than Jenny had expected.

"So, um, you a pony yet?"

Laura uttered a brief chuckle. "Not quite. I think I'm pretty close, though. I kinda want it to be over with. This in-between state is really awkward."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Jenny said in a distracted voice.

"I have to admit, there's another reason I want this to finish," said Laura. "After what I just saw Sunny do, I really, really want to try out these wings."

Jenny struggled to find some reason to scream at her sister for even wanting to succumb to any part of this transformation. After all, it was Laura who was freaking out about it at first and Jenny the one who just rolled with it.

Instead, she could only envy her sister, yet not because Laura had wings. Jenny already knew she was gaining strength; the zipper of her travel bag had jammed earlier, and in her frustration, she ripped half the zipper from the thick cloth by accident. Yet Laura sounded like she had some sort of purpose in mind, even if she hadn't voiced it. It was far more than Jenny felt she had, despite how much of the thought of returning to her fantasies tugged at her mind.

"I hope they work really well," Jenny said in a shaky voice.

"You okay, Jenny?"

Jenny let out a ragged breath. "Laura, I'm ... I-I'm really sorry for all the times I made you feel bad. I never meant it that way."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Jenny cried. "I don't resent you for what happened when I was five."

"I know you don't," Laura said in a subdued voice. "But I still feel like I need to make it up to you. I feel almost like I can, somehow. I'm not sure why."

Jenny sniffled once. "If you ever see me again."

"Hey, stop it," Laura said. "We'll see each other again. What color is your fur?"

"Blue," Jenny said in a low voice. "A few shades lighter than Dad's hair."

"Horn? Wings?"

"Neither."

"So now I'll recognize you."

Jenny sighed. "Yeah, Mom was right, you really are the responsible one."

"Coming from you, Jenny, that means a lot to me," Laura said softly. "I have to go soon. Can you put Mom back on?"

"Sure," Jenny said in a slightly choked voice. "I love you, Laura."

"I love you too, Jenny."

She handed the phone to her mother without looking in her direction. She relaxed somewhat when she felt Sarah squeeze her shoulder gently.

Jenny took a few deep breaths until her emotions felt under better control. Laura had once tried to find a deeper meaning for what was happening to them. Jenny had never voiced it, but she had thought her sister almost as crazy as the loon at Preacher's Corner. Now she wasn't so sure.

Nor was she sure why she thought her fantasies had anything to do with it.





"I want to see my wife and daughter," Harold said in a firm voice as Bob watched from a short distance away.

The lab technician gave him an exasperated look even as his voice remained polite. "I'm sorry you've been separated from her, sir, but you're not unique in this regard."

"I don't give a shit if I'm 'not unique.' I want to see them."

"Sir, we'll do our best to reunite families at a later date when the initial crisis is over, but until then--"

"You don't even have a clue what this is or how to stop it, do you?"

"We just might, sir, if people like you would cooperate. Now, kindly extend your arm so I can take a blood sample."

Harold folded his arms against his chest and stood as straight as his failing posture would allow. He forced his recalcitrant feet into laying flat against the floor, a position that Bob could not imagine was the least bit comfortable. "Why can't I at least talk to them?"

"Sir, we have gone out of our way to provide enough charging stations to allow you to keep your cell phone working, thus I suggest--"

"My cell phone?" He gestured towards the side. "She's just on the other side of that goddamned wall! If I shouted loud enough, she could hear me."

The technician sighed. "Please don't do that. My understanding is that equine ears are rather sensitive."

"I'm not the only one complaining about this."

"I know that all too well, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it. In case you haven't noticed, we're just as frustrated as you are. We wish we had this solved so we could treat you and send you all home."

It hadn't taken much time for Bob to observe how so many people at the shelter worried so little about what they were becoming. Harold had always kept his emotional cards close to the chest, but since arriving in the shelter, he seemed more willing to show his hand. Bob had no idea if the situation was getting to him or if it were another mental aspect of the transformation.

Bob did admire Harold's dedication to family. If anyone had any complaints to make about the lack of such, it was Bob. Yet as soon as that thought entered his head, he tried to quell it. He wanted to believe he had made his peace with his mother's actions, but more importantly, Eileen had made peace with them as well.

"Yeah, all right, fine," Harold muttered as he turned away.

"Sir, the blood sample?" the technician called out, though from his resigned tone, he had likely already given up on it.

Harold said not a word in reply as he headed away, and Bob tensed. Harold sometimes liked to tread heavily to show his frustration, but someone else had done that earlier and cracked a floorboard.

"Sorry it didn't work out," said Bob as Harold approached.

Harold's forlorn gaze rested on Bob, and Bob hoped it was not just because his eyes had turned dark cyan not fifteen minutes ago. "It's fine, sport. I'm just not a patient stallion anymore."

Bob gave him an odd look.

Harold sighed. "I did it again, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," said Bob. "I have to admit, it's a little disturbing."

"Why's that?"

"It's one thing to have a physical transformation," said Bob. "And maybe the whole thing about people being so calm and accepting about it as it progresses is better than people panicking, but the speech change seems like the odd man out. It suggests something is happening at a societal level as well."

Harold wiped his face with his hand. "Forgive me, Bob, but I'm not as scientifically minded as you. Could you translate that for former country hicks like me?"

"It means it's like someone is not just rewriting our genetic code, but the way we interact with each other. I don't like the implications."

"Maybe you should go talk to these people instead. Maybe convince them that this societal change thing is just going to mean more complaints." Harold frowned. "This is ridiculous. I have the strength now to punch somepony through a wall and can't use it to protect my family."

The question that rose in Bob's mind was: protect them from what? Bob hadn't any need to hear the rumors to know that someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes to some unknown intent. He doubted all the strength in the world would protect them from that.

"Hey, I hear you," said a new voice before Bob could think of a reply. "I think you were right to tell off the goons running this place."

They were approached by a thin, middle aged man with very dark violet hair, red eyes, and pony ears covered in dusky red fur.

"Uh, thanks," said Harold. He glanced towards the technicians. "But I guess they're really only doing their job."

"Still, it's not right, separating families like that." He chuckled. "My wife must be giving them hell right now. Anyway, you're Harry Tanner, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

The man extended his hand. "Ken Carlyle, James' father."

Harold hesitated only a second before taking the proffered hand. He gestured with his free hand towards Bob. "This is Bob, my, um ..."

"I'm his son," Bob said softly.

Harold's lips curled into a small smile. "Yeah, he's my son."

Ken nodded at Bob. "Nice to meet the both of you." He hesitated and scratched his head. "Anyway, you probably experienced my wife's, ah, temperament first hand."

Bob knew that James' mother had complained about Jenny, but he had not been privy to the details. "Yes, I did," said Harold in a flat voice. "I have to admit, I wasn't too thrilled with it."

"Yeah, um, about that--"

Harold shook his head. "Never mind, I shouldn't have said that."

"Nah, it's fine. Margaret is not exactly the most tactful person in the world, and really, James needs to learn to think on his own and not let a pretty girl turn his head to mush."

"Is James here?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, he found a boy he knows from school here and was talking to him." Ken shook his head. "Man, I swear, seeing that horn sticking up out of that other boy's head is weird."

Bob looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mr. Carlyle, may I ask you something?"

Ken nodded. "Sure, kid, what is it?"

"Are you showing signs of increased strength as well?"

Ken smirked. "You know, that's the real ironic thing about this. I kinda envied Harry here for a long while."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"The way you kept yourself in shape," said Ken. "I used to be that way, until I let myself go. Now it's like I've been at the gym every day. I sorta feel like I cheated, getting all this strength without working for it, you know?"

Bob wondered if the work Harold had put into maintaining his physique was simply to be ready to fend off any threats, or a means to feel like he was still in control, especially since most of the "threats" that faced the family were financial.

"I had an unfair advantage," said Harold. "I worked on a farm for most of my childhood."

"Huh, small world," said Ken. "My parents were ranchers in Nebraska."

Bob's eyebrows rose.

"They never put me to work on it though." Ken's ears suddenly swiveled, and he turned his head. "James is calling me. I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Harold managed a small smile. "Yeah, see you. And thanks."

Ken smiled before heading away.

"That's an interesting pattern," said Bob.

Harold's gaze lingered on the departing man before he shifted his gaze to Bob. "Pardon?"

"I've been trying to pick up on a pattern between those who get horns, wings, or neither," said Bob. "So far it seems like those with neither have some sort of background in doing physical labor. I mean, granted, my sample size is small, but--"

Harold smiled. "You just can't stop being the science guy, huh?"

"Nothing about the transformation itself is making sense," said Bob. "So I'm kind of desperate to find something that does make sense." He paused before adding in a lower voice, "I'm sorry if that bothers you."

Harold placed an arm around Bob's shoulders and drew him close. "It doesn't, champ, really. I'm sorry I never really connected with you on that level."

Bob averted his eyes. "We've been over that."

"I'm not sure we ever really settled it. Both this crisis and Eileen sort of interrupted it."

Bob wanted to complain that there were more important matters at stake. He was under no illusions that his nascent scientific knowledge was any match for those running the show, but he wanted to spend his limited time pitting his intellect against this transformation before it robbed him of his ability to care what he was becoming. He did feel closer to his "adoptive" father than he ever had before, but he worried whether it was coming out of his own head or just another mental aspect of the transformation.

It also didn't help that Bob had come to a stark realization: for the past ten years, the family had acted at cross-purposes. Harold had been so intent on connecting with Bob that he neglected Jenny, and Bob had refused to acknowledge that he felt closer to Sarah than he ever had to Harold.

"I told my mother that she needed to get on with her life and not worry about me," said Bob in a soft voice. "That my place was with you and Aunt Sarah, and she didn't need to feel like a failure because of that. She did the best she could."

Bob knew Harold would disagree with that last statement, but thankfully he chose not to belabor that point. "All we both wanted to do was provide a good home and a good life for you."

"And you have, that's my point!" said Bob. "Please stop getting all wound up about how our relationship turned out. It's not doing either of us any good. Just appreciate what you've done for me instead of trying to be the perfect father, because it makes me feel like I have to be the perfect son to match that."

Harold was quiet for a long moment. "You really know how to hit a guy where he lives, you know that?"

"I'm sorry."

Harold shook his head. "Don't be. You just made me realize something Sarah's been trying to pound into my thick skull concerning my own father, but I refused to listen."

"I know you don't have a great relationship with him," said Bob. "But I don't know a lot of the details."

"Let's just say I've been trying to live up to his ideals instead of my own."

"Just like my mother thought she had to live up to Aunt Sarah's ideals."

Harold chuckled. "Well, what do you know. I actually have something in common with Eileen."

"Maybe it's not really a fair comparison," said Bob. "I mean, my mother did do things she should've known were wrong. I don't think you were wrong in wanting to find your own path."

"Yeah, I was just unsure of my motivations. Truth is, I do miss the farm. I just chafed under what he had expected of me, like he just assumed I was going to pursue farming as a lifelong career. I wasn't sure whether I was leaving the farm because I really wanted to, or because I just felt the need to show him I could be my own person."

"I have to admit, I did wonder why you picked the IT industry."

Harold shrugged. "I had a head for math, so computer programming was easy to pick up. It was the biggest and easiest job market to get into at the time, and the pay was decent." He smiled faintly. "Maybe I should see this as a chance to do something different. Not like I'll be able to use a keyboard with hooves."

Bob managed not to shudder as he recalled his mother's earlier similar sentiment.





With as many people working at the hospital, the coffee supply was limited to automated dispensers that, in Kevin's view, were only one level above drinking sludge. He missed having Sunny about, as she always managed to find good, fresh coffee from somewhere. With all the talk about magic recently, he suggested tongue-in-cheek to a colleague that perhaps Sunny had a coffee-making spell. The joke had not gone over well.

Thus despite his need for caffeine, he was actually grateful to be delayed from taking the first sip when he saw Sandra rushing towards him down the hall. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sandra said nothing, but instead grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the nearest conference room. Kevin almost spilled his coffee, but it didn't matter; seeing Sandra this flustered had instantly chased away his exhaustion for the moment.

"What's going on?" Kevin said as she closed the door behind them.

Sandra spun around to face him. "I needed to talk to you before Mr. Heller orders security around you increased."

Kevin set down the cup. "And to what do I owe this dubious honor?"

"The 'alien ponies' are suddenly very interested in you."

Kevin didn't need to think about it. "My immunity."

"Yes, I was foolish enough to mention it in my shock. I've already been chewed out by our esteemed Mr. Heller."

Kevin gave her a concerned look. "It takes a hell of a lot to shock you. What happened?"

Sandra took a deep breath. "I saw one of them teleport."

Kevin stared. "Did I hear you right? Teleport?"

"Yes, as in disappear from one spot and reappear in the other. Normally I would have doubted my senses, but the guards outside heard the noise the displaced air made." Sandra paused. "She can also fly."

"Sandra, I don't think you were foolish at all," said Kevin. "If there's any truth to their story--"

"You were the one suggesting we don't take it seriously."

"I didn't quite say it that way," said Kevin. "Now, what is it you're not telling me? Something else has you spooked to hell and back."

Sandra took another deep breath. "Miss Sparkle said that the influenza virus and ETS are one and the same."

Kevin paused a long moment. He finally sank into a seat and ran his hand over his hair. "Of all the days I ever wanted to be wrong."

"She can't be right."

"Why the devil not? We've already seen a positive correlation in flu and ETS. If this really is some sort of biowarfare like Mr. Heller thinks, it makes sense it would be engineered to make it hard to detect."

"Because if she's right, we're facing a problem that may be too big to contain!" Sandra exclaimed. "The numbers we were given for the influenza infection may be grossly underestimated. The CDC is struggling to get accurate information. We may have already lost the battle!"

Kevin remained silent, looking intensely thoughtful.

"I wouldn't be so upset if I hadn't just received a medical report passed to me from the FBI," said Sandra in a lower voice. "It was in regards to the testing they did on Mr. Turner's bunker. They found no evidence of any bioengineering equipment, but they did find influenza."

Kevin looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"Live influenza on the bathroom sink, on the beddings, on the furniture," said Sandra. "Normal influenza lasts maybe a few hours on an open surface. This lasted over a week. This hasn't just been weaponized, it's been hardened. People can wash their damn hands all they want and they'll still encounter some surface somewhere that will infect them. We already have six staff members who have been sidelined with the beginnings of the flu. Even with all our precautions, people are still coming down with it."

"What about Janet Turner and the police officers?"

"We're still treating them with antivirals. No obvious effect yet."

Kevin stood. "Are these ponies still offering assistance?"

"Yes, Miss Sparkle was very adamant about it."

"Then let's accept it."

"That's not my call to make, Kevin."

"Then talk some sense into those who can!" Kevin thundered. "At this point, we have nothing to lose! At the very least, let me talk to the ponies."

Sandra frowned. "And what if they're here to ensure that this attack goes through to completion? What if they want to neutralize you as a threat?"

"I'm willing to take that chance."

"The rest of the world may not be."

"If they really do have the power to teleport, Sandra, what's to stop them from just popping into existence next to me and doing whatever they want?" Kevin asked. "The fact that they aren't means they might be telling the truth. Being cautious is one thing, but being paranoid can lead us to ruin."

Sandra sighed. "You're not telling me anything that I haven't already thought of, especially after the latest reports I received from the shelters."

"I was going to ask you about that," said Kevin in a somber voice. "How bad?"

Sandra opened one of her folders. "We're going to have between one hundred and one hundred twenty complete transformations by morning." She gave Kevin a solemn look. "That will include one of your patients: Laura Tanner."

Kevin took a deep breath and let it go.

"I'm sorry, Kevin. I'm not sure what to say. You didn't technically 'lose' this patient as she's still alive and apparently healthy but--"

Kevin raised a hand. "It's fine. I need to stop dwelling on the past, anyway. Let's focus on the present."

Sandra snapped the folder closed. "Kevin, if you're adamant about accepting their help, then that's the message I'll convey. I've been invited to a conference in the wake of Mr. Heller's interview of the two ponies." She paused. "I'm told the President will be in attendance on teleconference."

"I take it I'm not invited," said Kevin.

"Be grateful, I expect this to go on all night," said Sandra in a tired voice.

Kevin smirked. "Perhaps it's for the best. This way I won't feel guilty that I didn't vote for him."

Sandra managed a faint smile of her own. "I'll convey your willingness to be involved, and we'll convene a conference first thing in the morning. I'll make sure you're invited to that one."





Star waited until full night had descended. Despite the silence of the neighborhood, her heart still hammered as she ventured out into the back yard. She almost reeled from the strange smells that assaulted her the moment the cool night air wafted in through the open door. None of them were necessarily bad, they were just so vastly different from what she was used to that it sparked an almost instinctual wariness.

Her stomach rumbled. She wished it were summer, as there might be a chance of some flowers she could munch on. The food in the house was palatable, but not as good or satisfying as back home.

She looked up and found even the skies lacking. Despite the cloudless night, there were not nearly as many stars out as she had expected. Sunset had warned her about that, something about "light pollution." She glanced back towards the house and shut off the lights with a touch of magic. That helped a bit.

That was another thing she had trouble getting used to: the artificial lights the natives used were so bright. Nighttime lighting back in Equestria was much more subdued, and their purpose was just to let one see enough to get ready for bed.

Star sat on her haunches, trying to ignore how the cooling air made her shiver. Her heart thumped as she contemplated what she was about to do. For so long she had wanted to deny her talent had even existed, but as she contemplated doing what had been the unthinkable for so long, she felt a strange sense of excitement. Why shouldn't she? This is what her cutie mark told her she was supposed to do.

Sunset had informed her that the natives had no similar concept to cutie marks, or any indication from an early age as to what their talent would be. She had claimed it was both a boon and a bane. Some could switch with ease from one career to another, while others agonized for years as to what they really wanted to do with their lives. Sunset, true to her mindset, tended to side in favor of cutie marks. Star was not so sure herself anymore.

Star swallowed hard. She lifted her eyes to the sky, then after a moment's pause, she lifted her voice as well.

Sunset had assured her that the neighborhood had all but emptied itself earlier that day, but she could not help but wonder if there were any natives around who could hear her. If there were, they would experience a flowing yet haunting melody, a tune not so much heard as felt, as if it had woven itself into the very threads of reality rather than carried by a mere modulated sound wave.

It was music that the deaf could hear.

Star Singer closed her eyes, yet the heavens remained in plain view in her mind. She shuddered with growing excitement, as she had not expected to make a connection this fast. It was as if the stars were eager -- no, desperate -- for contact. She gasped as she realized just how utterly vast this universe was. In a flicker of an instant, she saw the stars' endless cycle of life and death, coalescing and expanding, massive engines of creation and destruction far older than anything she had ever experienced back home. The time scales almost defied her understanding, but she craved it anyway.

Yet when she reached out to them, they trembled and drew back. Star herself shuddered as emotions not her own roiled inside her. She whimpered softly as she expressed their fear. More stars joined a chorus that threatened to become a cacophony. Star changed her melody, one intended to soothe rather than query. Even in the most dire of visions back in Equestria, the stars rarely exhibited fear. The closest they had ever come to that was during her vision of Tirek.

Star was unable to separate her thoughts from those of the heavens. They shuddered and wailed, and her body tensed as a vision appeared at the edges of her perception, just as it had back in Equestria. A dark, amorphous shape, akin to smoke or fog, just as she had seen before. Instead of remaining indistinct and untouchable, it grew closer, its edges squirming like something alive.

An orb of blue, white, and green appeared before the cloud, its surface covered in incomprehensible designs. The orb disappeared within, and Star held her breath. The cloud writhed as if in pain, and the orb passed through unscathed, trailing shredded bits of blackness behind it.

The cloud reassembled itself, a process that happened quickly in Star's mental landscape, but she felt the same sense of the passing of eons without meaningful measure. Another blue orb appeared in its path, tame and quiet, but brimming with power that sang of life and harmony.

Star's heart skipped a beat as the stars instead sang of mourning, anger, and frustration. Her haunches trembled with the desire to bolt rather than watch this vision any longer. The cloud enveloped and enshrouded the orb, and a terrible scream of pain, regret, and death rang inside Star Singer's head. She clenched her teeth and lowered her head to the earth, covering her head with her forelegs. Yet the screaming would not stop.

The monster grew bloated and grotesque until it let loose lances of energy of a power beyond reason or scale. Star Singer's song was shattered, and she lifted a shrill scream of her own to the heavens instead.

> Chapter 34 - Suspect
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fact that good, fresh coffee had been supplied at the Wednesday morning conference did little to help the mood as they waited for Anthony Heller to arrive. Kevin disliked stark silence in a room filled with people, and he often could be counted on to strike up some sort of conversation to pass the time and ease the tension. He felt he dared not here, not even with those like Sandra with whom he had built a solid professional relationship.

Thus he could only sip his coffee and try not to feel like he was drowning in the emotional miasma that had settled over the room. He had been in situations before where the tone was grim, such as when the oncologist had gathered he and his wife for the final verdict concerning her cancer. Here the tone was beyond grim and teetering on the precipice of despair. The rumor was that several staff members had submitted their resignations, hoping to get back to their families before the world ended.

Anthony arrived flanked by several agents who fanned out and took up positions in what Kevin guessed were strategic parts of the room, as if they were expecting a conference of consummate professionals to become a brawl. He sat in the chair left for him next to Sandra. Two more seats on Sandra's other side were conspicuously empty, little cards reading "RESERVED" on the table before them.

He laced his fingers together under his chin. "I have an initial announcement to make. At five-thirty AM this morning, the President boarded his airborne command post and will remain there for the duration of the crisis. I suppose he doesn't want to take the chance of having to run the country with hooves."

Kevin lowered his coffee. "Just how bad has this become?"

Anthony glanced over to Sandra, who nodded solemnly. "I said yesterday that the CDC is struggling to get accurate numbers," said Sandra. "Their best estimates are anywhere from five million ... to fifty million infected."

"My God," someone from across the table murmured.

"There's now a large outbreak in Florida," Sandra said. "As well as parts of the deep south. There are reports coming in from Los Angeles, Portland, and New York. The number of people with active ETS symptoms is approaching one million and still going up."

"What about the Front Range?" Kevin asked.

"They're the worst hit," said Sandra. "It's spreading like wildfire in Denver. If this isn't stopped, then in about another week or two, you might as well rename that city 'Ponytown'."

"That's not the least bit funny, Doctor Marlowe," said Anthony.

"It wasn't intended to be," Sandra said in a stiff voice. "We're talking about two-and-a-half million people in a major metropolitan area turned into little colorful horses. You tell me just how I'm supposed to make that even remotely funny."

"The problem is far larger than that."

Sandra slammed her hand on the table. "I don't need you to tell me that! We can't stop this. It's out of control. We've extended the emergency area to Denver and Grand Junction, but you might as well include the rest of the planet."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

Sandra glared at Anthony. "Tell him. It probably won't be long before it hits the news."

Anthony hesitated before replying. "I've been advised that flu outbreaks have been reported in several cities in Europe and Japan. All flights out of the US have been grounded, and the transportation grid is being shut down. As a precaution, and as a sign to those who may want to take advantage of the situation, the President ordered all US forces to DEFCON 3."

"Let's hope the Russians don't misinterpret that," someone muttered.

"I've been assured that the President has been in contact with the Russian government," said Anthony. "They were ruled out as a potential suspect, especially considering that US intelligence reported flu outbreaks in the Ukraine."

"So those CDC numbers--" Kevin began.

"Are for the United States only," said Anthony. "Before I continue further, I want to know if there have been any more developments since last night."

"Only one," said Sandra as she shuffled her folders around. "We had a new, fully transformed patient brought in last night. She has a mark on her haunches like the two alien ponies do. She was found lying in a back yard near the center of town. She's a Jane Doe to us right now as she's unresponsive, possibly catatonic."

"Have you looked over medical records?" Kevin asked. "Maybe she sought treatment and the color of her hair and fur was recorded."

"Preliminary search turned up nothing," said Sandra. "But the address of where she was found is that of Sadie Sommers, a woman who apparently worked as a volunteer at the hospital."

"Yes, I know her," said Kevin. "She's always been very helpful. Perhaps she can identify this patient for us."

"I'll talk to her as soon as I can. She's among the first of the patients in the shelters to wake up this morning fully transformed. Despite how this condition appears to keep the patients calm, there's likely going to be a lot of initial disorientation."

"Keep me informed as to what you find," said Anthony. "Miss Sommers was implicated as the perpetrator of this crisis by the alien ponies."

Kevin stared. "Are you serious?"

"Perhaps now you see why I was initially hesitant to trust them," said Anthony. "We've been able to find no grounds to support the claim. She's never had so much as a parking violation let alone suspicious activity related to bioterrorism. For all we knew, it could be a means to throw us off the trail."

Kevin frowned. "A trail that led you to Fred Turner and a dead end."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, Doctor Conner. Need I remind you of the weaponized influenza found in his residence?"

"My impression was that this was all decided last night," said Sandra.

"Yes, and I'm committed to that plan, else I wouldn't be here. However, I'm still running the criminal investigation and was told to be open to all possibilities." He looked towards one of the agents. "Show them in."

The agent nodded and headed out of the room.

Anthony looked at the others gathered at the table. "If I seem obstinate on occasion, I apologize. All levels of government have undergone at least minimal exercises concerning first contact, but it was always under the assumption that such visitors would be from space, and we'd have ample warning of their arrival. If we weren't in such a crisis, someone with far more diplomatic experience than me would be brought in."

Kevin was given pause. In all the excitement, he had not once considered this a bona fide first contact. He never studied the question about life "out there" as he was much more concerned with more earthly matters much of the time.

He had trouble reconciling the concept of "alien" when the door opened and the two colorful ponies walked inside, their hooves clopping distinctly against the tiled floor. They headed around the end of the table and hopped into the two vacant seats next to Sandra.

"Please introduce yourselves," said Anthony in a cordial voice.

"My name is Twilight Sparkle," said the purple one. She gestured to her pale pink cohort. "And this is my companion, Starlight Glimmer."

Kevin leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. Their English was slightly accented, but in a way he hadn't heard before. It had a slight sing-song cadence to it.

"We want to help you stop the spread of this transformation," Twilight continued. "We're not sure how quite yet, so we need your help as much as you need ours. Before we came here, our ruler informed us that she is committed to doing whatever she can to repair the damage this has caused your world. We just need you to give us the chance."

"I have been instructed by my government to accept whatever help you choose to offer," said Anthony.

"Finally," Starlight muttered.

"Thank you!" Twilight cried. "You can't imagine what this means to me."

"How do you want us to proceed?" Anthony said.

"Have you acted on the information I gave you concerning Sunset Shimmer?"

"The problem, Miss Sparkle--"

"Please call me Twilight!"

Anthony paused and smiled faintly. "My apologies. The problem, Twilight, is that the human who we identified as having the color scheme you described has no record of criminal activity."

"You don't need to arrest her or detain her," said Twilight. "In fact, I'd recommend against it. She's very powerful in the use of magic. I would just keep her under observation."

"But who bankrolled her? Who's supplying her with equipment?"

"You have to get out of the mode that some large organization is behind this," said Twilight. "Yes, she is one pony, but she's a powerful magic user among those who can't work magic. She's been on this world a little over twenty years."

Kevin's eyebrows rose.

"Twenty years?" Anthony said. "And she arrived here by this portal you mentioned?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Where did she appear?"

"I don't know," said Twilight. "At the time, this end of the portal was not anchored, so it could've appeared anywhere."

"Like in a war zone in Afghanistan," said Kevin.

Anthony gave him an odd look. "I beg your pardon?"

Kevin leaned forward. "Twilight, would the opening of this portal be about, let's see, twenty-one years and five months ago?"

Twilight's eyes widened. "How long is one of your months?"

"They vary, but the average is about thirty days."

"And your year?"

"Three hundred sixty-five days, with one day added approximately every four years."

Twilight looked intensely thoughtful for a few moments. "That's to within a few days' accuracy of when Sunset used the portal! How did you know?"

"Because if I did my math right, then that was about the day that Fred Turner said his patrol encountered a little orphaned Afghani girl," said Kevin. "The same one he claimed was his companion for the last twenty years."

Starlight gave him a confused look. "Who's Fred Turner?"

"He's believed to be the first one to come down with the modified influenza," said Kevin. "And until his transformation completed, he suffered from a form of paranoia ever since the incident I just described. He claimed that the girl had trusted him with some sort of satchel that she had refused to be parted from when she was first found."

"Twilight, that's got to be her!" Starlight said.

"Yes, it would be foal's play for her to cast an illusion to make herself look like one of their children," said Twilight. "That satchel was likely the device she used to modify the influenza virus and impart her transformation spell on it."

"Was she at all skilled at mind magic?"

"I'm not sure, but certainly somepony of her ability could pick up a spell or two if it suited her purposes."

"One moment," said Anthony. "Did you say mind magic? As in actual mind control?"

"Well, yeah," said Starlight as if she had been asked about the weather. "What else would I mean?"

"There are other applications for such spells beyond just mind control," said Twilight. "But it's enough of a danger that I'm glad Starlight is with me. She's an expert on such magicks and can detect if somepony -- sorry, someone -- is under its influence."

"And what of this portal?" Anthony said. "Is it still active?"

"Yes, but Sunset has it locked down," said Twilight. "It's located in the basement of a house near the center of this town. I'm guessing it's the house Sunset used as her residence for her human persona. You can see for yourself, but she likely has some way to shield or hide it unless I come along to break the spell."

"Unfortunately, we have something called due process here. I can't just invade her home unless I have probable cause."

"We won't have to break in," said Twilight. "Sunset's friend Star Singer is there. She's against what Sunset is trying to do--"

"So we hope," Starlight murmured.

"--and she would be glad to let you in."

Sandra turned towards them. "Is Star Singer one of your kind?"

"Yes, that's right," said Twilight.

"Can you describe her?"

"She's a unicorn mare with white fur and a light blue mane and tail," Twilight explained. "Her cutie mark is a musical note surrounded by stars."

Sandra looked down at her folder. "That's the exact description of the patient who was brought in late last night, the one found in Sadie Sommers' back yard."

Twilight gasped. "Star Singer is in the hospital? Is she all right?!"

"We don't know," said Sandra. "She's catatonic."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Twilight, you don't think Sunset--"

"No," Twilight said firmly. "She would never harm somepony like that."

Starlight frowned. "Why not? She made a human crazy in the head for twenty years. Maybe Sunset got so frustrated at Star Singer refusing to help that she lashed out and--"

"I refuse to believe that," said Twilight in a low voice. "Her plans for this world are hideous, but she would never stoop to that. We have to find out what happened to Star Singer. I have a feeling it's very important."

"I can tell if she's been affected by mind-magic," said Starlight. "I can likely counterspell anything Sunset came up with."

"I'm going to play devil's advocate here one last time," said Anthony. "If you had this portal technology twenty years ago, why did no one think to come here sooner and stop this Sunset person before she even got started?"

"It's a long story," said Twilight. "Suffice it to say, we didn't know she had survived the trip. Portals were thought to be too unstable to maintain. Our last two contacts with your world were from naturally occurring portals we had no real control over."

"Last two contacts?" someone in the room said. "You've been here before?"

"Not me personally," said Twilight. "The first time was about one thousand nine hundred years ago. It opened inside some sort of an imperial realm surrounding a large sea."

"The Roman Empire," said Kevin. "That explains how you knew Latin."

"The second time was about seven hundred years ago," said Twilight. "We're not sure where those explorers wound up. Things were so radically different. Instead of an organized empire, they saw nomadic bands of warring natives living in primitive cliff dwellings."

Kevin stroked his beard. "The Anasazi."

Sandra stared. "They had contact with ancient Native Americans?"

"Briefly," said Twilight. "And unauthorized. They made direct contact with a tribe against Princess Celestia's wishes. Contact was abruptly cut off when another tribe attacked."

Perhaps Kevin was giving into the same desperate need for hope that he could sense from the others, but the fact that these aliens had visited before made them seem a little less foreign. He saw a bit of a kindred spirit in Twilight: someone who wanted to do the right thing even if she wasn't sure how to go about it at first. He could sympathize better with how frustrating her initial contact with humanity had been. Not that he blamed Anthony for that, as he was just doing his job and seemed to have adapted his role.

"The expedition had to leave in such a hurry, they left some equipment behind," Twilight added.

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Equipment? What equipment?"

"The usual things that Equestrian explorers would bring with them," said Twilight. "Enchanted gems and crystals to provide protection from extremes of heat and cold, or to act as wards against predators, among other things."

Anthony turned to Sandra. "I want to speak with Doctor Sarah Tanner at once."

"Mr. Heller, she may not be in a position to move properly on her own," said Sandra.

"I understand, but we don't have a lot of time. Can some arrangement be made to assist her?"

Kevin folded his hands. "Not to put too delicate a point on it, Mr. Heller, but you've frightened her once already. As her physician, I insist we limit the audience so that she doesn't feel overwhelmed. We should go to her, as there would be adequate space in one of the classrooms."

"I agree," said Sandra firmly. "She's my patient as well. I won't stand for her being subjected to undue stress in her advanced state."

Twilight exchanged a worried look with Starlight. "We don't want to cause anyone duress. May I ask why you want to see this person?"

Anthony turned towards her. "Because she may very well have discovered proof of your world's previous contact with ours, and someone actively tried to cover it up."





While Sarah had been insistent on walking to the meeting on her own hooves since she had learned to balance on them properly after waking that morning, the staff would not allow it. Thus she was pushed in a wheelchair down the corridor of the school, where they were joined by two FBI agents.

She wouldn't have agreed to come at all had not several other members of the shelter offered to help in her absence. Jenny had a bit more trouble with her hooves than Sarah had, perhaps because she was still trailing a bit behind her mother. Sarah had seen no issue with trusting people who until late the day before had been strangers.

Sarah had not let herself dwell on the end result of the transformation, not until the FBI agent opened the door to the classroom, and her widening eyes fell on the purple pony sitting on her haunches at a small table.

"Mrs. Tanner?"

Sarah continued to stare at the pony for another few seconds before the familiar voice registered. She tore her gaze away and looked at the gentle face of Kevin. "Oh, um, Doctor Conner. What's going on?"

"Have you not been told anything?"

"I thought it best not to spark rumors," said Anthony. "She was told only that I wanted to speak with her."

Sarah was staring at the purple pony again. She swallowed hard as she thought about her daughter Laura. Did she now look something like this?

"Mrs. Tanner, if at any time you feel you're not up to continuing--" Kevin began.

"Doctor Conner, we can't afford an overabundance of sentiment right now," said Anthony. "Time is critical."

"I'll answer all your questions," Sarah declared. "But under only one condition."

Anthony frowned. "We don't have time for demands."

The purple pony spoke. "I want to hear what her condition is."

"Go ahead," Kevin said before Anthony could object.

Sarah took a deep breath. "I want to see my daughter Laura. I want to know what's become of her."

Anthony steepled his fingers. "That's in Doctor Marlowe's purview, and she chose to stay behind with Starlight to investigate her Jane Doe patient."

"I can assure you she would agree," said Kevin. "Mrs. Tanner, you have my word that Sandra will find a way to fulfill your request."

Sarah nodded. "All right."

"I can take it from here," said the purple pony. "My name is Twilight Sparkle. You can call me Twilight. May I call you Sarah?"

Sarah was taken by the melodic undertone of the pony's speech. After a moment, she nodded.

"I've been told that you're an archaeologist, and that you're working on a theory concerning unusual contact with ancient people on this continent."

"Well, yes, I was, before all this happened."

"Were you able to place the exact time of this contact?"

"Only to within fifty years," said Sarah. "I only had two sites to work with, and they were both taken from me in various ways."

"Please, what's your estimate?"

"About 1275, plus or minus twenty-five."

Twilight smiled. "Your accuracy is better than you thought. You're within fifteen years, according to our records."

Sarah looked on in confusion. "Your records? Are you an archaeologist?"

"Sarah, your theory stated that these ancient people contacted another culture who may have brought knowledge of equinoids. You're right. My people were those equinoids."

"I-I don't understand," said Sarah in a shaky voice. "Are you saying ... you're not ...?"

"I guess I'm what you would call an alien," said Twilight. "My world is populated in part by more of my kind, and it was them who contacted your ancient people. One of my kind is behind this forced transformation, and I'm here to stop it, but I need help ..." Twilight trailed off, her eyes widening. "Sarah, are you okay?"

Kevin turned towards Sarah. "Mrs. Tanner?"

Tears trickled from Sarah's eyes. All the ridicule she suffered from the scientific community, all the snickers from even those she had most admired among her peers, all the stinging criticisms she had received that had gone as far as to question her professional credentials had all evaporated in a single moment. She had always pinned her hopes on the day that she would be vindicated, that she would find the proof that her theories were correct. Granted, the reality was not what she had expected, but it didn't matter. All the financial and emotional pain had been worth it in the end.

"G-Give me a moment, please," said Sarah in a shaky voice. "It's not every day I have my life's work validated in the space of a few minutes."

"I'm really happy for you, Sarah," said Twilight in a soft voice. "You could say I'm a fellow scientist. I know what the joy of discovery feels like. But I do need to ask you a question."

Sarah wiped her eyes and nodded. "Yes, anything."

"Can you please describe in detail what objects you found at that first site, the ones that were stolen?"

Despite the time that had elapsed since that incident, the find had so excited her that she could recall just about every detail of the exquisite gems and crystals, which she relayed to Twilight. "I wish I had pictures, but they were taken as well."

"It's okay," said Twilight. "Those artifacts were left behind accidentally by explorers from my world. They're essentially what you would think of as little devices that provided useful functions, except they use magic instead of technology."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Magic? Are you serious?"

"I know it may be hard to believe, but think of it as a sort of energy that you can't see or feel."

"You don't mean like radiation? Was I somehow contaminated? Did they cause--"

"No," Twilight said firmly. "They're completely harmless to you. I suspect that they were stolen -- and the petroglyphs erased -- simply to prevent your people from piecing together what was happening."

Sarah gasped. "So I was being purposely suppressed!"

"Yes, but not by your peers or anyone else from among your people." Twilight sighed. "This is all the work of a pony named Sunset Shimmer. I wouldn't be surprised if she had influenced your peers against you as well, just to prevent your theories from catching on. All it would take is a simple unbelievability curse."

Sarah frowned. "I felt like I didn't dare say anything for fear of reprisal against my family!"

"Sunset would never do that," said Twilight. "But I could see her taking advantage of your belief that she would."

"Doctor Tanner," said Anthony. "We need to know if you had any contact at all with Sunset Shimmer."

"That name is not familiar at all," said Sarah.

"Twilight claims that she has an alias: Sadie Sommers."

Sarah's stomach twisted. "You don't mean Sunny??"

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "You know her?"

"She's a good friend of the family. Or ... well ... she started to be just a few days ago."

Anthony leaned back in his seat. "You knew her for only a few days, and yet you claim she's a good friend? Isn't that a bit odd?"

"Not really, given the circumstances," said Twilight. "The ponies of my world tend to form friendships easily. It's not uncommon to call someone a good friend after knowing them for only a short while. If Sunset intended to duplicate all aspects of pony society, it makes sense she would include this as well."

Sarah felt like her head was spinning. "My daughter Laura is really close to her. They're in the same shelter together. Now you're telling me Laura is associating with a monster?!"

"Sarah, she's not a monster," Twilight said.

"I'd call the destruction of the human race a monstrous act," said Anthony.

Twilight sighed. "I don't mean it that way."

"Even Hitler was kind to dogs," Kevin said. "Perhaps Sunset's ideals are twisted, but on a personal level, she could very well live up to her nickname."

"I don't want my daughter associating with somepony who may be the least bit of danger to her," said Sarah. "I either want her out of that shelter and reunited with me, or move me into the shelter with her so I protect her."

"Doctor Tanner, we have to tread lightly here," said Anthony. "According to Twilight, Sunset is a being wielding a power we don't understand or have any defense against. Right now, we're reasonably sure she has no idea that Twilight is collaborating with us. We need to maintain that advantage as long as possible."

"You're asking me to throw my daughter to the wolves," Sarah protested. "Isn't there anything that can be done to protect her?"

"Sarah, I know we've only met, but I'm asking you to trust me, please," said Twilight. "Sunset will not harm your daughter. At worst, she would encourage her to use her pony magic."

"Pony magic?" Sarah asked in a bemused voice.

"All ponies can do magic in one way or another," said Twilight.

Sarah swallowed. "She has wings."

"Then she'll be able to fly and potentially control the weather."

Anthony turned to her. "I beg your pardon? Control the weather?"

"Er ..." Twilight murmured. "Perhaps I better hold the equivalent of a 'Magic 101' lecture soon."

"If you would, please," said Anthony. "In the meantime, let's get back on topic. Doctor Tanner, did you have any contact with Sadie Sommers before this?"

"None at all," said Sarah. "I didn't even know she existed."

"Forgive me for beating a dead ho ... ugh ..." Kevin began, running a hand through his hair. "What I mean is, I keep coming back to Fred Turner's claims of his companion."

"Yes, Doctor Conner, I know," said Anthony. "The theory has more merit now, though much of the evidence is still circumstantial."

"I just want to point out that Sunny's residency in Lazy Pines would allow her to more easily visit Mr. Turner."

"Or she could have teleported in from anywhere in the world."

"No, she couldn't," said Twilight. "Teleportation has limitations. First, you need a good picture of the target location in your head. You can't teleport to an unfamiliar area. That's why it took Starlight and I time to reach one of your settlements. Another limitation is distance. Despite having a reasonably clear picture of what the basement of Sunset's home looked like, I couldn't teleport that far. Finally, a location can be shielded against teleportation. Given these limitations, Kevin is correct. This town would be an ideal place for Sunset."

Anthony leaned forward. "Thank you for your time, Doctor Tanner, you've been very helpful."

"What about Laura?" Sarah said. "I still want to see her."

Anthony folded his hands. "Can we trust you not to give her some sort of warning about our suspicions of Sadie Sommers?"

Sarah frowned. "If you would just transfer her to the shelter I'm in, it would be a moot point, wouldn't it?"

"Not really, especially if Miss Sommers has a vested interest in keeping a relationship going with your daughter."

"I will not have her used as a pawn by either you or her."

"Wait, stop," said Twilight. She hopped off her chair. "May I speak with Sarah alone, please?"

"That depends on whether Mrs. Tanner is okay with that," said Kevin.

Sarah stared as Twilight stepped up to her. She felt a connection with this creature that she could not explain. Perhaps if this has been a week ago, Twilight would have seen utterly alien to her, but now ...

"I'll talk to her," said Sarah in a soft voice.

Anthony looked doubtful, but he stood and gestured for his fellow agents to follow. Kevin nodded to Sarah and headed out after them.

Twilight waited until the door had closed before she spoke. "I want to apologize for everything that's happened to your family. You shouldn't have been put through this."

"I feel better about it now than I did before," said Sarah.

"Sadly, that's an inherent part of the transformation itself."

"You mean my mind is being affected?"

"In a way," said Twilight. "We all have something inside us that tells us what we are. If it's telling you that you're a pony, it's hard to dispute it. Before this started, it told you that you were a human."

Sarah nodded slowly. "If I may ask, do you have family of your own?"

Twilight smiled. "I have a brother I'm very close to, and his wife, and my parents, and grandparents. I don't have any foals -- children -- of my own, but I have a little niece I love very much. I wouldn't want anything to happen to them, either."

"Then you can understand how I feel."

"I do. How old is Laura?"

"Seventeen."

"Do you have an age that's considered adulthood on your world?"

"Legally, that would be eighteen," said Sarah. "But to be honest, it might as well not matter. Laura always strove to be responsible. I'm very proud of her, even if the circumstances behind her drive are less than ideal." Sarah paused. "Did you really say that Laura could control the weather?"

"If her abilities were developed properly, yes," said Twilight. "Pegasi on my world have an instinct for it but still need to develop the skill over time."

"That's so ironic," Sarah said softly.

"How so?"

"Well, it's a long story," said Sarah. "Suffice it to say, there was an incident of violent weather when she was younger, and I think my younger daughter Jenny was traumatized by it. I only found out recently that Laura had blamed herself for it all this time."

Twilight looked thoughtful. "That is interesting that Laura became a pegasus."

"Twilight, are you implying that this is irreversible?"

Twilight gave her a sad look. "I don't know yet. I'm hoping it's not. I would dearly love to delve into how to change you all back, but I have to pick my battles. I have to stop the spread of this first. If it is permanent, I feel you have a right to know what abilities you may possess." She turned to the side and gestured with a wing towards her haunches. "This is called a cutie mark. Ponies of my world get one when they know what their greatest talent is. Having a purpose means something to us. I'm sure it does to you, too."

Sarah took a shuddering breath and lifted her hands. Already they had started to grow stiff. "I know all too well about that. I'm about to lose mine. I'm just glad you were able to confirm my theories before that happened."

"You don't have to lose your purpose, Sarah."

Sarah lowered her hands. "I don't understand."

Twilight turned towards the classroom whiteboard. She pointed to a marker. "Keep you eye on that, please." Her horn started to glow, and so did the marker. The latter rose into the air.

"Oh my God," Sarah murmured.

Twilight applied the marker to the board, but it simply skittered across the surface. "Hmm, this doesn't have a little clicky button like the pen did. How does the writing tip come out?"

"Um, you have to pull the cap off, Twilight."

Twilight did so. "Ah, there we go!" She lifted the marker to the board and drew in sweeping loops and spirals. "This is a symbol from the written language of my world. It means 'hope.'"

Sarah stared, her eyes glistening.

Twilight turned to her, still levitating the marker. "It's what I want to leave you with. If I have it in my power to change you and your family back to fully human, I will do it in a heartbeat. But if I can't, I want you to know that things are not hopeless. You don't have to follow whatever fate Sunset Shimmer dictates for you. You can still be in control of your own destiny regardless of what body you have."

Sarah raised a trembling hand to her horn as she stared at the glowing, levitating marker.

"Ponies of my world are not told what cutie mark they should get," said Twilight. "Nor should you be told how you have to live your life after this."

Sarah let out a ragged sigh. "All I want is for my family to be safe and happy."

"I promise you, I'll do everything I can to see that comes true."

Sarah lowered her hand. "Thank you for talking to me, Twilight. You're the first one other than Doctor Conner who I feel has been straight with me since this started."

"I wouldn't be so hasty to blame your fellow humans. They had no idea what they were dealing with. After being in this world for only a day, I dearly wish contact had come about under different circumstances."

Sarah smiled faintly. "I think we would've become good friends."

"Nothing says we can't now," said Twilight. "Friendship is one of our most treasured and powerful institutions."

"Powerful?" Sarah asked.

Twilight smiled. "In my world, friendship is magic."

"Twilight, may I ask what your next step is in combating this?"

"I want to craft a counterspell," said Twilight. "I intend to examine a human who has the spell but no symptoms yet."

"You can't do it on somepony who's already transforming?"

"I need to cast the counterspell to make sure it works. That will be far easier on someone who's not transforming yet."

Sarah considered. "Twilight, I would like to make a request ..."





Starlight's eyes widened as the hospital room door opened and her gaze fell upon its patient. Star Singer lay on her side, her hooves drawn towards her as if to make herself as small as possible. An IV was threaded into one of her fore-legs, and several patches over her shaved chest lead to wires that snaked towards the heart monitor, itself issuing a regular, sonorous beep.

Starlight advanced and saw that Star Singer's eyes were glazed, staring straight ahead at nothing, the pupils partially shrunk. Occasionally she blinked, but that and the steady rise and fall of her barrel were the only signs of life. She waved a fore-hoof in front of Star's eyes to no avail.

"<Star Singer, can you hear me?>" Starlight said in Equestrian. "<This is Starlight Glimmer. What happened to you?>"

Star Singer remained unresponsive.

"Was that your native language?" said Sandra in a bemused voice. "It sounded so much like singing."

"Then you probably wouldn't be surprised how many spontaneous musical numbers break out on my world," Starlight said as her horn started to glow.

"What are you doing now?" Sandra asked warily.

"I'm checking for evidence of mind magic." Starlight paused, then shook her head. "And I came up empty. Whatever happened to her, that wasn't it. What can cause this sort of thing in your world?"

"Anything from physical trauma to extreme psychological disturbance," said Sandra. "We examined her and did some imaging. She doesn't have any obvious injuries, assuming we're interpreting pony anatomy correctly."

Starlight leaned closer to Star's horn. "No evidence of mana burn, either."

"Mana burn?" Sandra asked.

"Something that can happen to a unicorn when channeling too much power, or if a spell backfires such that the magic flow reverses." Starlight tilted her head. "Huh. I wonder if this is a self-induced healing trance."

"You mean, like a hypnotic state?"

"Something like that," said Starlight. "Unicorn healers on our world can induce a trance to let the body devote most of its energy towards healing, But, again, she's not injured, not physically, anyway." Starlight peered at Star Singer's face. "She almost looked frightened."

"She was discovered when a National Guard patrol heard a scream."

Starlight's eyes widened. "A scream?"

"When they went looking for the source, they found her in this state."

"When was this?"

"Late last night, about nine PM."

"I don't know how you measure time of day yet. Can you describe it in terms of light or dark or sun position?"

"Early night, a few hours after the skies became completely dark."

Starlight turned her head back towards Star Singer. Her gaze fell on Star's cutie mark. "No, that can't be it."

"What is it?"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want me to explain this? I've seen how much humans have trouble believing in magic."

"I'm trying to be as open-minded as possible," said Sandra. "Please, just tell me."

"Well, okay," said Starlight in a wary voice. "Star Singer's talent is that she can see the future. Well, sorta see it. She said she usually doesn't get precise dates and times, just general ideas of big events, usually threats. It's what started Sunset on her crazy plans in the first place, and Star Singer was always paranoid about her visions herself."

Sandra did indeed appear as if she were struggling to work this into her worldview. She finally raised a hand to her forehead and said, "If I ever appear like I'm having trouble, it's because of my oath: do no harm. As much as I want to let you have free rein, I have to think of the safety of my patients."

"Yeah, I get it," said Starlight. "But where I'm going with this is: what if Star Singer tried to use her ability and saw something that so shocked her that she retreated into this trance as a means to get over it?"

"So taking her out of it would be dangerous?"

"It could, yeah."

"So we're back at square one," said Sandra. "Twilight was convinced this was important somehow."

"I've come to trust her on that score." Starlight approached the bed. "Okay, maybe I can try something that won't disrupt her trance. If whatever she saw is still fresh in her head, I could get a reading off her thoughts."

"A mind-reading spell?" Sandra said in a dubious voice.

"Not quite," said Starlight as her horn lighted. "Reading minds is sort of a myth, but a mind can be compelled to reveal its secrets. Since her conscious senses are out to lunch, I have to see if I can get a direct link into her head."

"A Vulcan mind-meld," Sandra deadpanned.

Starlight paused, and the glow of her horn faded. "Wait, you have someone who can do this?"

Sandra blinked. "That's not--"

"If you do, get him up here and have him do this Vulcan thing. I can guide him if he has questions about how pony minds work."

"That was a joke, Starlight," said Sandra.

"Oh," said Starlight. "No offense, but your language is weird."

"That aside, what good will this do? For all we know, she saw a vision of our world falling to Sunset Shimmer."

"Yeah, but there may be details we can use," said Starlight. "If it helps any, all the baddies she saw in her visions back in Equestria were dealt with." She rubbed a hoof through her mane and averted her eyes for a moment. "In one manner or another. The point is, Twilight was involved in dealing with every one of them, but she usually had more of a clue what she was doing. Not so much now. Anything we can find out can help."

Sandra folded her arms and considered. "The problem is, Starlight, this isn't like allowing a visiting surgeon into the operating room. In that case, I can watch and know if the surgeon is doing harm. I'd have no idea in this case. Not intentional harm, mind you."

"What I want to do should be safe," said Starlight. "The worst that will happen is it doesn't work. The only other choice is to do nothing and give Sunset another advantage."

Sandra stared at Star Singer for another moment before finally saying. "All right, do it."

Starlight nodded before turning towards Star Singer, her horn glowing. "So I may go completely still while I do this. Don't worry about it or try to rouse me." Starlight closed her eyes. "Now, let me concentrate ..."





Starlight opened her eyes inside a small bedroom.

The room was cozily furnished, the lighting subdued. A window overlooked a tree-lined street in Canterlot. Pictures of unicorns of varying ages festooned the walls. The only one she recognized was Moondancer.

Starlight understood at once. The pony who was the target of this spell often used imagery to make sense of what was happening to their mind, so they could convince themselves that they were doing this of their own free will. One common imagery was sitting down in a cozy space reading their diary or journal out loud and not noticing another pony was there.

Here, however, where Star Singer was in a healing trance, she was not present. Instead, a book sat neatly in the middle of the bed, a large heart inscribed on the cover with the words "My Diary" written within.

Starlight hopped up onto the bed, and after a moment's scrutiny, she opened the diary with a nudge of magic. Dear Diary, the first page read. I'm so stupid. I never should have suggested I go on this lark. I came here thinking I could talk some sense into Sunset, but all I seemed to do was urge her on! Worse, she sounds almost reasonable to me. Yes, even after all this time, I want her plans to work. I want ponykind to be safe. What if she really is doing these natives a favor? What if this will benefit them as well?

"Yeah, who's surprised?" Starlight murmured. "I told Twilight it was a terrible idea to send her on ahead."

She tried to advance a few pages at a time, but the book resisted. She gritted her teeth, and her horn glowed brighter, but the book would not budge. All she could do was turn to the very next page, and even then it wouldn't let her go further until she read it.

Starlight sighed. "Fiiiine."

Dear Diary: Sunset wants me to help her. She claims she doesn't really need my help, just that it would be nice to work together again. Why is this so important to her? I want her to be successful even though I know it's wrong! She was right when she said this was our dream, not just hers. If I had come to this world with her twenty years ago, I might have gone along with her plans. What does that make me? A monster? A misguided fool?

"Huh," Starlight said in a low voice. "I guess she really did have doubts. Now can I skip to ... nope." She turned the page.

Dear Diary: I broke down. I helped her. Princess Celestia may throw me in a dungeon if I ever get back, but I did it.

Starlight frowned. "I can think of some worse things than a dungeon, to be honest."

She had blood samples from a native immune to her modified virus. She claimed once again I didn't have to help, that she had things under control. But does she really? Was she more worried than she let on? Did I help her out of some misguided need for her friendship again?

Starlight's mouth fell open. "She was actively investigating his immunity?"

Now she no longer needed the diary to encourage her to read each entry. She quickly turned to the next.

Dear Diary: I am so very angry with Sunset. I told her about humanity's magical awakening, and she acted as if I told her about the weather.

"What do you mean, humanity's magical awakening?!" Starlight cried.

I tried to contact Twilight, but I knew that was a failed endeavor from the start. Maybe that's the only reason I tried, knowing I would fail. Part of me wants to stay loyal to Sunset, to see our dream realized, TO MAKE THE VISIONS STOP. I want to tell you all about this, dear diary, but I want to give her another chance.

Starlight face-hoofed and uttered in English, "Fuck!" If there was one good thing she could say about the native language, it had plenty of swear words.

I'm going to Sing to the stars. I'm going to find out if Sunset is right, that a threat exists that only a magical pony society can face down.

Starlight frantically flipped to the next page, and her pupils shrank to pinpricks at the words scrawled across the page:

IT COMES TO DEVOUR ALL, AND ALL THE MAGIC RAINBOWS IN CREATION WON'T STOP IT

As she read the last word, the diary abruptly burst into flame.





Starlight gasped as her eyes snapped open.

"Are you all right, Starlight?" asked Sandra.

Starlight whirled around to face her. "We have to talk to Twilight, now!"

"What is it?" said Sandra. "Did you learn anything?"

"Not what I was expecting. Sunset already knows what's causing Kevin's immunity!"

"How would Sunset know something like that?"

"Because Star Singer happens to have an education in biology and was stupid enough to help Sunset. She said Sunset had samples of Kevin's blood."

Sandra's eyes widened. "Two vials had been reported as lost or misplaced."

"I can almost guarantee you that Sunset took them."

"And Sadie was a volunteer at the hospital for years and would know where they were stored," said Sandra. "Shit. I better let Mr. Heller know. Did you learn the details of what Star Singer found out?"

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Of course not, that would be too easy, wouldn't it? I did get a clue, but I need Twilight to help me figure out what it means."

> Chapter 35 - Breakthrough
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset awoke before the others, thanks to the silent alarm spell she had cast the night before. She rose on all four hooves and stretched her legs, grateful to finally be able to stay in her natural form. Only her cutie mark remained hidden by a spell.

A physician rushed over to her as fast as he would allow himself so as not to disturb the freshly-minted ponies still deep asleep, their minds undergoing the final rewiring so that their new bodies would work smoothly from the outset. "Miss Sommers?" the physician said softly.

"Yes?" Sunset looked at herself and added in a properly bemused tone, "Is it ... is it done? Am I really a little pony?"

"We're sorry we couldn't stop it," said the physician in a somber voice.

Sunset certainly wasn't. Just a tiny tweak of magic, and she could remove the protection that this physician and the others employed. With as much magic as was building up, their sickness would be short, and they would transform within no more than a week. Yet there would be plenty of time for that later in less conspicuous circumstances.

Sunset took a few steps. "Thank heavens I can walk again! I felt like such an invalid yesterday."

"Do you want to see a counselor?" the physician offered.

"I sort of took on that role for the others. I don't see any reason to stop now."

"Miss Sommers--"

"Please, call me Sunny. I'm really just the same person in a new package."

The physician smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're taking it well, but perhaps you should go easy for now."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to wake up everypony," said Sunset. "But I do want to be there for them when they do. It's what I'm all about."

The physician nodded, his smile widening slightly.

Sunset believed that went well. At some point, they would start to figure out how cutie marks worked, and she could make her own appear and claim that the sun reflected her sunny personality and ability to see the bright side of things.

"We do ask that you don't attempt anything with your horn," said the physician.

Sunset gave him an innocent look. "Do something? It's not exactly big enough or sharp enough to be used as some sort of tool, if that's what you mean. I'd be too afraid of breaking it off."

"I mean, don't attempt, er, well, magic."

Magic? Why would he call it that? Sunset had not thought they would make the connection and accept the concept that quickly. Perhaps they were a little more open-minded at this point than she had given them credit for. "I do admit, I keep thinking I can use it for something, but I hadn't thought of that."

"All right, but please let us know at once if something unexpected happens."

"Will do!"

Sunset allowed herself a small smile. They were all going to have their fill of the unexpected quite soon. She had crafted her spell to awaken basic pony magic right from the start. It would be a bit chaotic at first, but it would smooth itself out soon.

She looked over the others. Colorful ponies of all three tribes lay curled up fast asleep. Other than the bits of now useless clothing hanging off them at odd angles, she could almost think this was Equestria. Her smile widened. This was the result of twenty years of hard work. This was her creation. She loved them all as if they were her own foals.

Sunset stepped forward, careful to keep her hoof-falls soft. Her gaze fell on a yellow-furred, orange-haired pony, her wings folded neatly against her sides, her tail curled around her haunches. She wondered what kind of cutie mark Laura would get, or what more appropriate name she might come up with for herself.

Sunset would get to see the first generation of ponies grow into their bright new future. She had considered remaining more detached, staying in the shadows and adopting various guises as needed, but she felt this needed a personal touch, especially where the Tanners were concerned after the unfortunate incident in Nebraska.

She had to stop feeling guilty for that. It had been an accident, and no one had gotten seriously hurt. Even the home that the tornado did destroy was empty at the time. Now Laura would eventually have the power to stop a storm in its tracks and never have to fear them again. Sunset hoped it would also make up for the trouble she had caused Sarah.

Sunset caught a glitter out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and she stared in deep confusion.

Lying on a bedroll curled up fast asleep was an older mare with a light blue coat and a lighter blue-and-yellow mane and tail. She was an earth pony, but her fur and hair glittered like spun glass.

Sunset turned away and trotted towards the physician who had first greeted her upon awakening. "Um, excuse me?"

The physician turned towards her. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"I was curious about that mare over there." Sunset pointed with a fore-hoof. "I didn't recall seeing her before now."

"She was a really late arrival," said the physician. "I understand she was an extremely shy woman until her transformation was almost complete. Then she called 911 begging to be taken to a shelter out of sheer loneliness. This was the closest one, so we squeezed her in."

Sunset stared as the crystal mare's ears and muzzle twitched from the depths of a dream.

"Is something wrong, Sunny?"

Sunset forced a small smile. "Not at all. I just thought her sparkly coat was so pretty. It's certainly unique."

"I'm told there's two more similar to her in another shelter, but, yes, like the ones with the bat-like wings, they seem to be rather rare."

"Thank you for the info," Sunset said before heading away.

Sunset had researched crystal ponies, but without any actually around at the time she crafted her spell, she had left them out of the equation. She knew them to be a variety of earth pony, but without a way to examine their specific powers more closely, she had chosen not to attempt any transformations with crystal ponies as the intentional target.

So what caused this one to become a crystal pony? A random thaumic drift, perhaps? The morphic resonance of earth and crystal ponies were very close. Likely this mare got some aspects of crystal ponies, but not all. She may be no more than an earth pony in a pretty wrapper. It was a concern how this had happened, but not a significant problem. Of more concern to her was the immunity, but now she had an idea how to deal with it.

All she needed was about five minutes alone with Kevin Conner, and the problem would be solved.





Like the morning before, Laura awoke to the sound of clopping hooves around her. Unlike the previous morning, it felt as normal as hearing a bird outside her window back home. Her eyes blinked open, and she was taken at once by how much wider her field of view was. Colors seemed a touch more vibrant than she remembered them.

Her eyes briefly crossed as she beheld her muzzle, which had only just barely begun to manifest the night before prior to falling into an exhausted slumber, as if the very last stage of the transformation had taken a physical toll on her.

She rose and faltered, the last of her clothing entangling her rear legs. She managed to free herself, whipping her tail to the side and fluttering her wings. The idea that this left her naked didn't register as even a fleeting thought.

Laura glanced about, and her eyes widened in both shock and wonder. Almost everywhere she looked, she saw ponies in varying states of wakefulness and bemusement. She took a few steps, and four appendages responded. She looked down at herself, lifting a fore-hoof and studying it for a moment. She turned her head to look at the rest of her, neck far more flexible than she ever would have thought possible.

"You doing okay, Laura?"

Laura turned her gaze forward and saw Emma standing a short distance away. There was no mistaking her, not with those orange and pink streaks that ran through the straight red hair of her mane and tail. What really threw Laura's senses into a brief tailspin until her newly rewired brain asserted itself was that she even recognized Emma's smell. Perhaps she had noticed it only on a subconscious level before, but now it was just as much a part of Emma as what she looked like or how her voice sounded. It was pleasantly familiar, the smell of a friend, somepony around whom she could feel safe.

Laura smiled faintly. "I think so."

Emma took a step closer. "It's finally done, isn't it?"

"It looks like it, yeah."

"So, um, what do we call ourselves?"

"Well, we're ponies," said Laura. "I mean ... it's weird, but at the same time, it's not. I know that doesn't make sense."

"No, it does." Emma averted her eyes. "It's strange to think now that, when my tail first came in, I cried like a baby."

"So did I," Laura said. "I was terrified over what I was becoming."

"I worried I was going to become a dumb animal."

"Except we're not." Laura paused a moment before adding, "We're pegasi."

Emma slowly smiled. "Kind of a grandiose title for us, isn't it? At least from what I remember of them from mythology. We're sort of on the small side."

"It just feels right." Laura extended her wings as easily as she once extended her arms. "What else would we be?"

Another set of hoof-falls approached. "I like it," said Joan. "And it makes sense to me, too."

Emma extended her wings and flexed them. "Should we try them out?"

Joan smiled. "I think Laura should go first."

Laura's pupils shrank slightly. "What, me?"

"I second that!" said Emma with a grin.

Laura blushed, which somehow showed even through the fur covering her cheeks. Yet every fiber of her being was begging for the chance. These wings were as much a part of her now as her hooves. If her hooves worked perfectly well, why not the wings?

The night before, the last of her humanity had begun to slip away, leaving her unable to do more than just lie down while it happened. Despite how calmly she had taken the latter part of the transformation, that moment had held a frightening sense of helplessness that she had simply been too dead tired to express.

She had awoken in a body that was no longer a struggle to either move or understand. She had hooves because she was supposed to have hooves, thus it simply must be true that she had wings because she was supposed to have them, and they were supposed to work.

Despite how brief her moment of reflection had been, a small crowd had gathered around her, mostly the friends she had made the day before. Her old tendency to shy away from attention tried to reassert itself, but the sense of camaraderie she had developed battled successfully against it.

Laura wasn't sure when she actually started flapping her wings, yet it became very obvious when her hooves left the floor. Her friends gasped as she teetered and wobbled. A rush of contrary thoughts about what she should and should not be able to do threatened to destabilize her further until she forcefully quelled them, and soon she was hovering steadily a foot or so from the floor.

"Ohmygod, she's flying!" Emma suddenly cried, breaking the wide-eyed astonished silence.

Laura blushed again, but a wide smile stretched across her muzzle. "Well, I'm hovering," said Laura, though her voice quavered in betrayal of sheer exhilaration. "But the wings work, just like I thought they should!"

"I want to try that!" Emma cried, stretching her own wings.

"So do I!" Joan said.

In their excitement, they had failed to notice the white-coated technicians converging on them. "Wait, stop! Miss Tanner, please, put your hooves back on the floor."

Laura hesitated both in disappointment and the quandary as to exactly how to get herself to comply. Once she was in the air, maintaining level height was as easy as walking. She didn't have to consciously flap her wings, they just moved as they needed to. Her wings finally faltered, and she came down a bit hard, but her hooves absorbed the impact easily.

"Thank you," said a relieved technician. "All of you, please, don't try this again until--"

"Why not?" Emma said in an indignant voice.

"That's not fair," Joan declared.

"If we have wings, we should use them!" cried another.

"What's the point of becoming pegasi if we don't fly?" insisted yet another.

Laura stepped forward. "I agree with them. Our wings work. Why shouldn't we use them?"

Several others drew closer to Laura as if to show their solidarity. The technician gave them a forlorn look before replying, "We just want to do this in more controlled conditions. We don't want to see any of you hurt, or have you hurt any of us without meaning to."

The other pegasi all looked towards Laura, as if they had tacitly elected her their representative. In the ensuing silence, her ears swiveled as she picked up a distant, high pitched voice whining, "But Moooom, I wanna fly like she did!"

Laura looked around. Even non-winged ponies were looking towards them, as if wondering how this would play out. She spotted Kelly staring very intently at the carrying case for her cell phone, a feeble glow flickering around her horn, her comrades moving as if trying to shield her from the watchful eyes of the technicians and physicians.

Laura turned her gaze back to the technician addressing her. "I know you all tried your best to stop what happened, but it's sort of a moot point now. This is what we are, and we need to start understanding how to work with it." She glanced at the others. "Maybe let us each try out our abilities one at a time, but give everypony a chance to do it."

The others nodded.

The technician glanced at his comrades before replying. "All right, we'll see what we can do to accommodate. Thank you for your cooperation."

Laura smiled faintly as he turned and headed away with his compatriots.

"Well, I guess that went better than it could have," said Emma.

"It was really the best I could do," said Laura. "I didn't want to antagonize them. They're just trying to look out for us."

Joan smiled and draped a foreleg around Laura's barrel. "I think you did pretty well."

Several ponies parted to allow a familiar yellow and red unicorn to trot forward, a wide smile on her muzzle. "I think you did wonderfully, Laura."

Laura broke into her own smile, her eyes glistening as she hugged Sadie tightly. "Thanks, Sunny. Did you see me? Did you see me using my wings?"

"I did," said Sadie as she returned the hug. "It was magnificent."

Laura blushed. "All I did was hover for a few minutes."

"You have to start somewhere, and I'm very happy you were the one who had the gumption to do it."

"It was sort of weird at first," said Laura. "I felt something in my wings I couldn't explain. It's like I've only scratched the surface, like I can do so much more. Is that just wishful thinking? Am I getting ahead of myself?"

"Just take it one step at a time," said Sadie. "I feel like you do, that there's some grand purpose behind all this, and we're all moving towards it."

"I really hope so. I--"

Laura was interrupted by a tug on her tail. She turned around, her gaze falling on a peagsus filly with red-pink fur and light orange mane and tail. She was about half Laura's size, sitting on her haunches with her fore-hooves still raised and facing one another.

Laura smiled. "Um, hello?"

"Hi," said the filly as she rose to her hooves. "Can you tell me something, please?"

"If I can, sure."

"How did you fly??"

Laura hesitated. "Oh, um--"

The filly flapped her wings furiously until they became a blur. "I tried and tried and can't get off the ground."

Laura recognized the filly's voice as the one she had heard whining earlier. She wasn't sure how to answer. When the filly stilled her wings, Laura saw they were in the same proportion to the rest of her body as Laura's were. 

"You might need a bit more time, little one," Sadie said in a gentle voice. "Maybe you need to grow up a little more."

The filly put on a pout that Laura thought was absolutely adorable. "But it looks like so much fun! I really want to do it now."

"Molly! Molly, where are you?!" cried a frantic voice.

The filly turned around. "Over here, Mom!"

The cherry-haired woman Laura had seen briefly the day before rushed over. She had progressed as far as ears, tail, and fur, and her gait was awkward like Laura's had been just before her rear hooves came in. She scooped up the filly despite a protest of flailing hooves and fluttering wings.

"Mooom, stop!" Molly cried. "You're treating me like a little foal!"

"I'm terribly sorry if she bothered you," said the woman. "I-I'm just not sure how to deal with her anymore since she's become like this."

Sadie smiled. "It's okay, I understand."

"I just want to fly," said Molly in a glum voice, her ears drooping.

Laura looked at Molly and was immediately reminded of Jenny when the family went on their first camping trip when Jenny was six. She had taken off into the trees the moment Sarah and Harold weren't looking, and it had been up to Laura to chase her down. She looked to the woman and said, "Please, don't worry, um ..."

"Theresa," the woman said. "My name is Theresa."

"Don't worry, Theresa, we'll all keep an eye on her. We won't let her get hurt."

Theresa smiled. "Thank you."

Molly squirmed. "Now can you put me down?"

"Oh, yes, sorry." Theresa set Molly down. "She's just so tiny now, I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself."

Molly fluttered her wings before folding them against her sides. "I'm not tiny, I'm aerodynamic."

Laura pressed a fore-hoof to her muzzle, and her sides trembled from suppressed laughter.

"I just hope I'm as calm and accepting of all this when I get this far," said Theresa.

Sadie smiled. "I have a feeling you'll be better able to relate to your daughter when that happens."

Laura lowered her hoof, some of her smile fading. Just what was her family going to do once they were all like her? How would they live their lives as little ponies? Would anything go back to the way it was, or did they have to find some new destiny? She felt like the answers were just within reach. If there was ever a time where she couldn't afford to make a mistake, it was here.





Eileen rubbed her eyes as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, still bleary from a fitful night. Her flu symptoms had abruptly subsided the night before, and now she scrutinized herself for any sign of what was to follow, at least if the doomsayers on the news had anything to say about it.

She let out a ragged sigh as she gripped the sides of the sink. All she could think of while she lay in bed for several sleepless hours the night before was her son. How bad was he now? Would she even recognize him if she saw him?

Eileen frowned and forced herself to straighten up. She needed coffee and a cigarette, and not necessarily in that order.

She pulled her robe more securely about her as she trudged into the kitchen. She started the coffee brewing and grabbed her pack of cigarettes, but uttered a curse as she saw the chilly temperature outside on the weather monitor.

She threw the pack across the kitchen table. Sarah had made her swear not to light up inside the house. While the instinct to ignore that just to be contrary was strong, it wouldn't bode well for her stated intention to remake herself.

"If I get the chance," she muttered as she fell into a chair. She crossed her legs, one ankle encircled by a sensor band courtesy of the state police. Eileen had hoped that they would just trust her to remain in the home while under house arrest. Had it been just the charge of running the barricade, she had been told, she might have gotten off lightly, but the "pricks" (as she called them) at the car rental had insisted they press for charges for theft. Her damaged rental car had already been impounded, so it wasn't like she had anywhere to go.

Eileen frowned as she glanced at the sensor. "Just hope the fucking thing doesn't strangle my leg if I start turning into a pony."

Eileen grabbed her coffee and spent the next hour or so trolling the internet on Sarah's computer. She might as well have stepped into a madhouse. The only islands of sanity were the support groups that had sprung up for those affected by ETS who had no organized shelters into which to retreat. Worry and anxiety still ran high among them, but at least they seemed to have their heads screwed on a little straighter.

Those with ETS were acting more rational than those without it. Incidents of violence and rioting were rising, and there were rumors that the government was close to declaring martial law. It only served to drive the ETS-affected into more tightly-knit groups for their own mutual protection. The fact that a significant portion of them had superhuman strength made the tactic rather effective.

Eileen thought back to her conversation with Bob, that maybe having this happen to her would be best. Maybe she'd finally be part of something bigger rather than feeling like no one gave a shit.

She was about to raise the mug of coffee to her lips when a pounding on the door startled her. She frowned and set aside the mug. "That's an angry police knock if I ever heard one." The knock at the door came again and more urgently, spurring her to sprint the rest of the way. "Mind keeping the door on it's hinges, please? I don't exactly own this--"

She stopped short when she flung open the door and saw men in suits wearing earpieces with wires trailing under their collars.

"Ms. Eileen McDermott?" said the one in the lead in a crisp voice.

Eileen's eyes darted between the men. "Uh, yeah, that's me."

The man lifted a badge into view. "Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Shit, what the fuck did I do now?"

"We have spoken with the state police," the man said. "They have agreed to drop all charges against you if you agree to submit to medical examination and experimentation."

Eileen stared. "Are you fucking serious?"

"This is extremely serious, ma'am. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."

"Does this have to do with ETS?"

"Ma'am, everything has to do with ETS. Now, do we have your cooperation?"

"But I don't have any symptoms," said Eileen.

"That, Ms. McDermott, is exactly why we need you."





Eileen frowned as she read the form that had been given to her almost the moment she had set foot in the hospital. It amounted to telling her that there was no guarantee that what she was about to undergo would cure her of anything, or that she wouldn't have side-effects, or that she might come out worse.

"So, in other words, you don't know what the fuck you're doing," she said to the physician sent to consult with her, a man who had introduced himself as Doctor Kevin Conner.

He seemed to take her acerbic wit in stride. "In effect, yes. This is all very untried."

Eileen blinked. "Damn."

"Sorry if that's making you reconsider."

"No, I mean, damn, someone who's actually honest with me. I don't get that a lot."

"At this point, Ms. McDermott, we're desperate," said Kevin. "We don't quite understand everything about how the mechanism of this affliction works, and we have to trust those who claim to know."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "You got some sorta outside experts for this?"

"You could say that."

Eileen frowned. "Now you're being mysterious. What happened to honesty?"

"Very well," said Kevin as he folded his hands. "You're going to be subjected to magic."

"Huh?"

"Just what I said."

"What, you gonna have someone waving a magic wand over me?"

Kevin smiled faintly. "In a way, except the wand in question is attached to her forehead."

"O-kay, this is getting weird," said Eileen.

"Magic is apparently the mechanism by which ETS operates. If it helps any, we've seen the actual effects of magic. Perhaps it will be understood someday as some sort of previously unknown subset of physics, but right now, 'magic' will have to suffice as a handy label."

Eileen looked down at the permission form. "I don't like how broad this is."

"Neither do I," said Kevin. "I would have preferred they take the time for a more conventional approach, but they insisted this was faster."

"Which it isn't, because we spent just as much time debating this one form than I would have signing a stack of them."

"Precisely. I had tried to convince them with little success."

One corner of Eileen's mouth rose. "I like you, doc. I wish I had you as my physician. You know how to cut through the bullshit."

Kevin smiled. "I've been told that before. If you stay in Lazy Pines after the crisis is over, please feel free to visit my office. I already treat many of your relatives as it is."

"You're Sarah's physician?"

"Yes, I am."

Eileen recalled some of the unflattering things she had said and thought about this man and scratched her head. "Um, okay."

"Something the matter?" Kevin asked.

Eileen shook her head. "Not really, just thinking how many other times I've been stupid lately." She grabbed the pen and dashed off her signature. "There. Do whatever voodoo you do best."

Kevin accepted the form and stood. "This way, please."

Eileen was expecting to be brought to hospital check-in and go through a lengthy admissions procedure, just like the time she had to have an ovarian cyst removed. Despite having had all the paperwork in ahead of time, she still had to wait almost an hour before they had assigned her to a room.

Instead, all that happened was Kevin submitting the form, another physician asking her a few quick questions to make absolutely sure she knew what she had signed, and she was led down a corridor away from the hospital rooms. She glanced about nervously as she saw both FBI agents and National Guard. A final phalanx of agents stood before a door that led into an examination room, one of whom checked both Kevin and Eileen's ID cards.

As the agent handed Eileen's ID back to her, he said, "I need to impress upon you the need for descretion, Ms. McDermott. We ask that you do not speak of this experience yet to anyone, either in person or electronically."

"You can't really force me to keep quiet, can you?" Eileen said.

"No, we can't. We're asking for your cooperation."

"I'll think about it."

The agent frowned but stepped aside to allow them through.

They entered the examination room, which looked no different from what she was expecting. Other physicians were in attendance, whom Kevin introduced, but Eileen just nodded as the names slid off her mind without really sticking. She had half expected to see them dressed in cheesy wizard robes.

"Okay, so, is this where you make with the magic or something?" Eileen asked.

"Not quite us, Ms. McDermott," said Kevin. He turned his head towards a closed drape. "Twilight?"

Eileen was drawn to the motion of the drape being pulled back, and she nearly recoiled as her gaze fell on the purple creature who stepped forward. Several people on the internet had taken it upon themselves to draw what they thought the final end state of the transformation might look like, but nothing had quite matched this. The eyes were enormous compared to the size of the head, and in any other circumstance it might even be cute. Her first impression was a unicorn, until she saw the wings.

"What the hell are you?" Eileen finally uttered.

"My name is Twilight Sparkle," said the creature. "You can call me Twilight. May I call you Eileen?"

Still staring, Eileen nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry if my appearance startles you. I'm here to help stop what's been happening on this world."

"This world?" Eileen said. "So, you're an alien?"

"You could say that, yes."

"This isn't exactly going like alien abduction stories tend to, you know."

When Twilight looked on in confusion, Kevin smiled and said, "This is certainly no abduction. You can still walk out of here and refuse to undergo this procedure."

Eileen frowned. "I don't even know what this supposed procedure is. The form I signed wasn't big on details. It just mentioned 'unconventional' imaging and treatment techniques."

Twilight stepped forward. "It will definitely be different than you're used to, but the discomfort should be minimal. First I need to scan you to see if you have the transformation spell inside you."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Spell?"

"I was told you just recently got over the flu."

"Yeah, I did. No idea how I caught it."

"The flu is the way ETS is spread."

Eileen's eyes widened. "Bob was right?"

"Bob?"

"He's my son. He has this, too."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Twilight. "I wish I could offer more explanation of what's happening, but I really need to check you for the spell. I doubt you'll feel anything more than a tingling."

"Um, all right," Eileen said in a slightly quavering voice.

Twilight nodded. "Thank you. Now, please, hold still."

Eileen thought this was insane. Didn't they have to put her into some machine to take pictures of her? Or stick her with needles to take a blood sample? Instead, all that happened was that Twilight's horn glowed, and she closed her eyes.

A few seconds later, the creature's eyes opened. "She has the spell."

Eileen's heart skipped a beat. "You mean I'm going to become a little pony like you?"

"Right now, the spell is dormant," said Twilight. "With as much of a pool of ambient transformation magic available, however, it will likely trigger in no more than a day or two. This is exactly what I was afraid of, that the available pool of magic hastens the transformation."

"But can you counterspell it?" Kevin said.

"I'll need to study the spell structure more," said Twilight. "It will be a little more invasive and uncomfortable for Eileen, but it shouldn't hurt her."

"This isn't making a goddamn bit of sense," Eileen declared. "Why should I trust anything you're telling me, huh?"

Twilight looked up at her. "I understand your reluctance, but I'm fulfilling a promise to a mutual friend: your sister Sarah."

Eileen's mouth fell open.

"Sarah wanted to protect someone in her family from this, so when she heard I needed someone who had the spell but no symptoms, she suggested you. She doesn't want to see you go through this."

Eileen swallowed hard.

"I got the sense from her that you two don't see eye to eye," said Twilight. "But she still loves you very much. I'm willing to stop and give you a more lengthy explanation of how magic works if--"

Eileen quickly wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. "No, never mind, I don't need it," she said in a choked voice. "Just do it."





"I did it! I really did it!" Kelly cried with delight as a small foam ball wobbled in the air a few inches from her muzzle, both it and her horn glowing. Nearby, her friends cheered her on, but the physicians and technicians standing in a close circle about her were more sanguine in their response. They took notes and tried to measure the immeasurable with everything from magnetometers to Geiger counters.

Sunset smiled as she looked on, feeling a vague sort of envy for these ponies. They reminded her of the first time she had applied her will to her horn and was met with something more than just sparks, or when she saw a pegasus classmate flap his wings in the playground and lift off the ground for the first time. She had hoped that the awakening of their pony magic would be met with delight and wonder, and for the most part, she wasn't disappointed.

She glanced at Laura. She was the subject of another "controlled experiment." She hovered a few feet off the ground, while technicians struggled to find out exactly how she managed to stay aloft. They took measurements of the speed of the displaced air under her, while wires attached to pads at the base of her wings fed data about her muscle contractions. Nearby, some of Laura's pegasus friends who had yet to be allowed to fly were anxiously flexing their wings in eager anticipation.

Nearby, little Molly looked on with a mix of wonder and frustration. Sunset sorely wished she could console the filly further. Molly's wings were just fine, she just needed another year or two before they would start to work properly. Of more concern to Sunset, however, was the one group that still had yet to see their powers completely realized.

"This isn't fair," complained a frowning earth pony mare to one of the technicians.

"We want a chance to know what we can do, too," said one of her friends.

"We've been over this before," the technician said in a tired voice. "Your strength is enough to do serious damage to the building."

The earth pony stomped a hoof, and the floor shook. "Then let us outside!"

"Yeah, we've been cooped up in here for too long," said another.

"I want to see the sun again, at least for a little while," said another.

Sunset was very pleased. Already they sensed there was more to their abilities than just raw strength, and being outside was the perfect way to prove it. Once the pegasi got more used to their wings, they would soon start agitating for the open skies.

"We can't let you outside right now," said the harried technician.

"Why not?" one of the earth ponies demanded.

"You think we're going to run away or something?" said another.

"Why would I want to leave my friends?" demanded a third.

"We don't want to spread this further than it already has," the technician said.

"Oh, come on, the whole town is like this now, isn't it?"

"You can't keep us in here forever!"

"What's the point of keeping us quarantined if it's over?"

The technician sighed. "Look, I'll talk to my supervisor. I can't promise anything, though. Just, please, don't take matters into your own hands. Er, hooves."

Laura had concluded her experiment, and she trotted over to Sunset. One of the earth ponies glanced towards her before saying in a more contrite voice. "We won't, for now."

"What's going on, Sunny?" Laura asked.

Sunset smiled at her. "Just the powers-that-be starting to realize they can't keep experimenting on us forever."

"I have to admit, I do wonder what's going to become of us now," said Laura. "We've been relying on them to care for us, feed us, and all that. They can't keep doing that forever, can they?"

Sunset turned more fully towards Laura. "No, they can't. I have a feeling it's only a matter of time before they become like us."

"When this started happening to me, I felt like I was going to be a helpless animal. I don't feel that way anymore but ... well ..." She looked around. "Whatever I can really do, I can't do it inside an auditorium. I always thought this school had a really large auditorium for its size, and now it feels cramped. I'm just not sure how we'll deal with that if they keep us in here."

Sunset placed a hoof on Laura's shoulder. "The other ponies are looking up to you as a sort of leader."

"Oh, they are not," Laura said, but her conviction was weak.

"You were the first one to speak up for them, and you acted in a very mature and conciliatory manner."

Laura slowly smiled.

"That earth pony who looked at you? I think she was remembering that moment, and she acted in kind. You inspired them."

"I'm not sure I'm quite ready to be a leader," Laura said softly. "I don't want to let them down."

"That's just it, you don't have to do it alone. Your friends will always support you, even when you make mistakes."

Laura glanced back towards her friends. Emma was having her turn at flight, and Joan was helping another preen her wings. Kelly never looked so pleased as she stepped aside to let another unicorn try out her horn.

"It doesn't have to be like it was with Jenny," said Sunset. "You had nopony to turn to or confide in. You don't have to do it alone anymore."

"The future still seems a little daunting," said Laura. "It's neat to be able to fly and whatever else I can do, but it's still going to be a really different world."

Sunset felt as proud for Laura as she would for a daughter of her own, almost the same way she had felt towards Twilight. Laura had such great potential, and Sunset intended to do everything in her power to see that it was realized. She would love it if Laura was the first to earn a cutie mark, as it would be wonderfully symbolic of her fully embracing her new life and setting a fine example for others to follow.

Her ears swiveled as she heard somepony approach from behind her. She turned as a technician stepped up and said, "Sadie Sommers?"

Sunset turned more fully towards him. "Yes, that's me."

"Can you come with me, please?"

Laura gave Sunset a concerned look. Sunset returned it with a confused look of her own before saying, "Is something wrong?"

"There was an incident at your residence last night, and someone wants to ask you a few questions about it."

Sunset's thoughts immediately jumped to Star Singer, as that was the only unknown variable of the equation. Everything else in her home of magical origin was warded against tampering or discovery. Even if Twilight had arrived in town already, Sunset would have detected Twilight's attempt to disable them. Had Star finally decided she had wanted nothing to do with Sunset's plans and tried to talk to the authorities? Without knowing the native language, that wouldn't get her very far.

To allay any suspicions, Sunset face-hoofed as she said, "Ugh, I'll bet it's that old hot water heater. I knew I should've turned it off before I came to the shelter."

"Oh, no, Sunny, I hope your basement didn't get flooded!" Laura said. "My parents were always worried our heater would do that on us."

Sunset smiled at Laura. "No worries, I'm sure somepony can help clean it up." She turned to the technician. "All right, let's go."





When Eileen was told that the procedure would be "uncomfortable," she had assumed that was just a nice way of saying that it would hurt like hell. While it turned out not to be the case, what she did feel was almost as bad. First it felt like ants crawling all over her skin, then when Twilight applied more power, it felt like ants under her skin instead. Several times she contemplated calling a stop to it, as she still only half-believed what was going on. Had she not already been in such a defeatist mental state, she would have likely told them what she thought of all this hocus-pocus and left.

Suddenly, the sensation stopped, and Twilight lifted her head, the glow of her horn fading. "I've got it now. I can craft the counterspell."

The faces of the other physicians held a curious mix of doubt and hope in equal measure, but Kevin smiled and said, "Things are looking up, then."

Twilight turned to him. "Realize that this is just a first step. I'm still facing the problem of how to mass-cast this spell on such a large number of affected people, but at least now I can protect those who are running the emergency zone operations."

Eileen glanced from person to person. "You all actually believe this shit?"

"Perhaps we don't fully understand it, Ms. McDermott," said Kevin. "But this should give you an idea how desperate we are for a solution."

"I've come to terms with the fact that humanity still needs more convincing," said Twilight. "'Seeing is believing' is the correct term from your vernacular, I think."

Eileen frowned. "So what does this mean for me?"

Twilight turned to her. "It means I can cure you of this permanently."

Her horn glowed, and Eileen's eyes widened as a piece of paper and a pen floated before the creature. The latter began writing on the former as if held by an invisible hand.

"What the hell am I seeing?" Eileen murmured.

"Magic, I would say," said Kevin. "Perhaps that is sufficient proof there is something to this."

Eileen watched the pen continue to move across the paper. "What about my son?"

"The last report I had was that his symptoms had started."

"I know that!" Eileen snapped. "Use this counter-whatever on him, too. In fact, I'd rather you use it on him than me."

"Casting the counterspell on someone actively transforming is more problematic," said Twilight without looking up from the paper. "I'd have to stop the inflow of magic first, and that's more difficult. With as many people affected--"

"I don't care how difficult it is, I want him cured, too."

"Ms. McDermott, we're doing everything we can," said Kevin,

"I just don't know why I have to be so special," said Eileen. "What did I do to deserve this privilege?"

"You didn't deserve to have this happen to you in the first place," said Twilight in a somber voice. She paused to make a few more notations before setting the pen aside. She lowered the paper slightly as she stepped up to Eileen. "I'm ready to cast the counterspell."

"Wait," Eileen said in a choked voice.

"Eileen, it's important we know if this works," said Twilight. "I promise, this won't generate the same discomfort that the deep thaumic scan did."

"I don't mean that, I ..." Eileen trailed off when the words would not come to her.

"Don't you want to be cured?" asked Twilight.

Eileen took a deep breath. "I just ... I-I won't bore you with the details, but my life's been pretty much total shit up to now. I didn't do so well as a human being, so I thought, I don't know, maybe this is the ultimate chance to start over."

Twilight lowered her gaze for a moment. "I've met ponies back in Equestria who have had similar feelings as you do. Even my friend Starlight still struggles with issues of self-worth." Twilight looked up. "I'm going to be blunt, Eileen. If you're looking for some sort of instant cure for those feelings, there just isn't one. Becoming a pony won't help."

Eileen let out a shaky breath. "So in other words, I'd just be trying to run away from the problem."

"Yes," said Twilight. "And that never works."

Eileen nodded quickly and sniffled once. "Thank you for being on the level with me. Sometimes I need someone to shove my nose in it before I understand. All right, go ahead with your hocus-pocus."

Twilight smiled faintly. "Hold still, please."

Her horn glowed again, brighter this time, and a similar glow seemed to envelop Eileen's body. This time she hardly felt anything more than a tingling sensation, though it seemed to come from deep inside her. She couldn't point to any one organ as the source, as if felt more fundamental than that, as if Twilight had touched something that was just quintessentially Eileen.

Finally, the glow faded, and Eileen felt strangely refreshed. Twilight paused, and her horn glowed more sedately. Her smile widened. "It worked! The transformation spell is gone."

"Should we keep Ms. McDermott here for observation?" asked one of the other physicians.

"That's a good idea," said Twilight. "Just so we can make absolutely sure that the counterspell worked. Two days should be enough, but I think we should proceed in the meantime on the assumption that it worked."

Before Eileen could respond, there came a rapid knock at the door before another physician poked her head in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you almost done here?"

Kevin turned his head towards her. "We're finishing up now, Sandra, and we have some good news ..."

Eileen tuned out the conversation when she glanced out in the hall, and her gaze fell on several armed National Guardsmen, more than she had seen in any one place before now. She flinched when a second pony burst into the room, one with a pink coat and tri-colored mane of blues and cyans. "Twilight, we have to talk to you right now! It's about Star Singer!"

"Oh, dear," Twilight said. "What is it?"

"Not here," Sandra said crisply. "Security around Kevin has been ordered increased."

"What, again?" Kevin said.

"Come with us and we'll explain everything."

Twilight turned to Eileen. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Nah, it's fine," Eileen said with a weak smile. "Thanks for everything."

Twilight returned the smile before heading out with Kevin and the other pony.

"Ms. McDermott?" said one of the remaining physicians. "If you'd come with us, please."

"Yeah, sure," Eileen said absently as she stared at the closed door for another moment.

Back in Denver, there was a bar she sometimes visited when she wanted to get a little oiled with some friends. After a drink or two, she often loosened up enough to joke that her life was so screwed up it was beyond belief. Now she just had a little alien pony give her life advice. It had taken an unbelievable event to counter an unbelievable situation.

The challenge now was to make it stick. She doubted that all the unicorn magic in the universe could help her with that.
> Chapter 36 - Education
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight paced inside the conference room as she listened to Starlight's tale. "I agree, it must be a healing trance. I've read about previous Seers. Their visions were sometimes so intense and profound that they often needed to lapse into one to recover from them."

"And just how long do these trances last?" asked Starlight.

"Anywhere from one to three days on average."

Starlight frowned. "Well, that's convenient."

Twilight turned towards her friend. "No, it's disturbing. I did research on Star Singer after we first met her. Not one of her previous visions ever pushed her into a trance. I don't want to think about what she could have possibly seen to spark one now."

"What little I got doesn't even make sense," said Starlight. "Did she see some sort of monster?"

"A literal interpretation would suggest yes."

"But this civilization has been around for thousands of years. You'd think if this universe had monsters like Equestria does, they'd show up more often."

"This universe is vast," said Twilight. "The fact that they have extensive terminology for measuring distances in the length of time it takes light to traverse them bears this out."

"What about the stuff concerning magic rainbows?" Starlight asked.

"It might be symbolic, maybe of magic that's reminiscent of rainbows, like the Elements of Harmony, or Harmony magic in general."

Starlight's pupils shrunk. "And that wouldn't be enough to stop a threat??"

"If I may make a suggestion?" Kevin said with a wry smile. "Especially since you're losing your audience a bit."

Twilight turned to him. "My apologies. What is it?"

"Perhaps we should instead focus on making sure whatever she saw doesn't come true, if it's at all related to what's happening now."

"I agree, we can discuss the vision later," said Twilight. "What I really want to address now is Kevin's immunity. Starlight, is there any way we can push past Star Singer's resistance and get at the details of what she had discovered?"

"Not without risking disrupting her healing trance and likely delay her coming out of it," said Starlight. "Otherwise, I would've already done it to get at the details of her vision."

Twilight looked thoughtful. "Kevin, would you consent to a low-level thaumic scan?"

"Certainly," said Kevin.

Several National Guard soldiers and FBI agents stood about the periphery of the room. One of the latter spoke up. "Begging your pardon, Doctor Conner, but I have orders that only Doctor Marlowe can approve any application of magic to you."

"And why would you think I wouldn't approve it?" said Sandra in a testy voice.

"I'm just following orders. Doctor Conner's protection is of paramount importance right now."

Sandra turned her head towards Twilight. "Go ahead. You have my explicit permission."

Twilight nodded, and her horn glowed. "So I'm detecting transformation magic inside you, Kevin, but no spell structure. So despite being immune to the virus, you're not immune to being used as a mana battery."

"A dubious 'honor' if there ever was one," said Kevin. "Is there a way to drain it so I at least don't contribute to advancing the condition for others?"

The glow of Twilight's horn faded. "I could, but it would likely be restored over time unless I permanently blocked the uptake somehow. It might be worth doing anyway if for no other reason than to take a reading on you without the interference of the other magic."

Sandra stepped forward. "Where are you going with this, Twilight?"

"I keep coming back to the clue that Starlight got from Star Singer," said Twilight. "She talked about humanity's magical awakening. I can only surmise that she found something in Kevin's blood samples that was magical in nature."

"I do admit to being very curious about it," said Kevin. "Never in my life have I even come close to exhibiting abilities like you or Starlight."

"Did you find anything in your testing?" Twilight asked.

"Just a benign mutation in a gene responsible for mitochondrial development," said Sandra.

Starlight gave her a bewildered look. "Uh, exactly what is that?"

"We're not versed in your biological terms yet," said Twilight.

"Mitochondria are structures inside our cells that help process energy," said Kevin.

Twilight's eyes widened. "That could be it! We have structures in our cells as well that let us tap thaumic energy."

"I thought your horns were the way you did that," said Sandra.

"All pony tribes have magic," said Twilight. "They just use thaumic energy differently. Earth ponies convert it into magic that makes them strong and affects the growth of plants. Pegasi convert it into flight and weather control. For unicorns, the horn is a means to project magic."

"Is that why your horn glows?"

"Sort of. What you're seeing is waste energy. A small amount of magic is lost as light." Twilight turned away from the others. "All right, if we're going to do this, I need to thaumically isolate Kevin, and we'll need space for that."

Twilight's horn glowed, and so did the table and several chairs. Several guardsmen tightened their grip on their weapons, and some of the FBI agents looked uneasy as Twilight levitated the furniture and set them back down with apparent ease.

Kevin smiled. "Moving from one house to another must be a breeze in your world."

Twilight returned the smile before stepping into the center of the space she created. "Kevin, if you would stand in front of me, please? Starlight, I'll need your help."

"Got it," said Starlight as she took up position on the other side of Kevin.

"I'll need you to actually drain the magic from him, as the isolation will take all my concentration." Twilight took a deep breath. "All right, here goes."

Her horn suddenly glowed brightly, and a stretched ovoid of energy formed around Kevin, very similar to the shield that Twilight had conjured during her demonstration to Anthony.  Kevin stared at it curiously.

"This is a little harder than I thought," said Twilight in a strained voice. "The thaumic field of this universe is indeed stronger than in Equestria."

"So my idea of thaumically isolating groups of humans is a bust, huh?" Starlight said.

"Most likely, yes," said Twilight. "All right, got it!"

"May I ask exactly what's happening?" Sandra asked.

"I've effectively cut Kevin off from all contact with the thaumic field," said Twilight. "It means no magic can flow either into or out of him by itself."

"I don't feel any different," said Kevin.

"So that rules out active magic use," said Twilight. "Because you would definitely feel cut off from it if that were the ... um ... wait ..."

Starlight's horn glowed. "So you want me to start draining the transformation magic from him, Twilight?"

Twilight closed her eyes in concentration for a few seconds before suddenly uttering a gasp. "No, stop! Leave it in! Leave it in!"

"What going on?" one of the FBI agents demanded.

"Okay, okay!" Starlight said, the glow of her horn fading. "No need to yell."

"I must insist on knowing what you're doing to Doctor Conner," said the agent.

Twilight's horn went dark, and the magical cocoon around Kevin vanished. "I'm done."

"While I'm not nearly as alarmed as this gentleman," said Kevin. "I would like to know what just happened."

Twilight opened her eyes and looked up. "I was monitoring the magic inside you after I isolated you. I detected a very tiny but consistent drop in the available magic."

"Which means?" Sandra prompted.

"It means something in Kevin was using that magic," said Twilight. "Sunset's plan to use humans as living mana batteries hinges on the assumption that humans can't use magic, otherwise your bodies would just convert it into some other form."

"Twilight," Kevin said in a solemn voice. "I've always had a very robust immune system. Could that be caused by this?"

Twilight smiled. "Yes! Your mutation could have enabled you to channel a very small amount of thaumic energy. It could have been enough to boost your immune system."

"So let me make sure I understand this," said Sandra. "Are you saying that this is what made Kevin immune?"

"Not quite," said Twilight. "The magic Sunset imparted into her virus would have been enough to overwhelm even that small boost, but her insistence on using humans as mana batteries means she unwittingly gave Kevin enough magic to fend it off."

Starlight smirked. "Promise me you'll rub Sunset's muzzle in that at first opportunity?"

"Let's not get petty, now, Starlight."

"I'll be as petty as I damn well please. Sunset's been a step ahead of us the whole time. Now we finally have a chance to catch up. Can't this be used as some sort of vaccine against her virus?"

"That would involve modifying genetic code," said Twilight. "I've never done that sort of magic."

"But we've used technology to do just that," Sandra said. "I just don't know if we have the time to develop something for this."

"If I can understand how that works, maybe I can find a way to use magic to assist," said Twilight. "It might be more of a long-term solution to prevent recurrence of the infection. Do we know of anyone else who's immune?"

"We've only just received reports of new apparent immunities this morning," said Sandra. "They were still being processed and weren't available for the morning conference. Two people in Arizona, one in New Mexico. I ordered genetic tests on them."

"All in the southwest," said Kevin. "A pattern, perhaps?"

"That's way too small a sample size to say that."

"We need to make absolutely sure that Sunset doesn't get access to any more information than she already has," said Twilight. "I want to cast teleportation shields around any sensitive areas that she had access to in her human persona."

"Speaking of whom," said Starlight. "What's being done about her?"

"Mr. Heller is interviewing Sadie Sommers now," said Sandra. "He's questioning her about Star Singer."





Sunset was led to a classroom where a human male wearing a suit sat at a table before a laptop. She knew at once that this was going to be no ordinary interview. That the federal government was involved was no surprise; it made sense that they would interpret this as some sort of biological warfare. She wished she could make them understand that it was anything but an attack or a war. Perhaps some day, once a stable planet-wide pony society was realized, she would openly admit what she had done. By then, they would understand her motivations better.

The man looked up at her approach, his eyes flicking over her. He set his laptop aside and folded his hands before him. "Miss Sadie Sommers?"

"Yes, that's me," said Sunset. "What can I do for you?"

Anthony glanced at the empty chair opposite him. "Can you sit, or is it more comfortable to stand?"

"I can sit." Sunset trotted up to the chair and hopped into it, settling down on her haunches.

"My name is Anthony Heller. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

So Sunset had guessed right. Her eyes widened. "Wow, I didn't realize you guys had been called in."

Anthony reached for a folder sitting off to the side. He opened it and took out a photograph, which he slid across the table towards Sunset. "Do you recognize this person?"

Sunset uttered a tiny gasp, not at all faked. Her eyes glistened as they fell on Star Singer, curled up on her side in a hospital bed. Sunset had not quite expected this, and her heart genuinely ached for her friend. "Good heavens, what happened to her??"

"Is she familiar to you, Miss Sommers?"

If there was one thing Sunset had learned, it was that the best lies were based on a kernel of truth. "Yes, I think so, but only in passing. She has the same color scheme as a friend who visited me on occasion. She had a horn, too, the last day I saw her."

"What was her name?"

"Frieda," said Sunset as she looked up. "Never told me her last name."

"What did she look like before her transformation?"

"I don't know," said Sunset. "She already had the hair color, eye color, and tail when I met her. She just wanted a sympathetic ear, I think." She looked down at the picture. "Was she hurt? I hope nothing bad happened to her!"

There was truth in Sunset's sentiment; she hadn't wanted any harm to come to her friend.

"She was found in your backyard, Miss Sommers."

Sunset looked taken aback. "My back yard? What was she doing there?"

"That's what I was hoping you would tell me."

"I don't know," said Sunset. "Maybe she was looking for me? She knew I sometimes worked in the garden in the back yard. She might not have known that I was already at the shelter." Sunset looked down at the picture and murmured, "Poor thing."

Sunset had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened. The absence of any obvious injury precluded any sort of physical trauma, and she surmised they wouldn't have waited long to question her, which meant they found her over the past twelve hours. That could mean only one thing: healing trance as the result of a traumatic vision.

Sunset admitted to feeling guilty for subjecting Star Singer to it, but ultimately, it had to be done. Obviously she had seen a very dire threat to Earth just as Sunset had predicted. Now she and hopefully Twilight would understand that everything Sunset had done was for the benefit of two worlds.

Anthony leaned forward and laced his fingers together. "Miss Sommers, we're treating this as a criminal investigation, as she was discovered in an unresponsive state after a scream was heard from her location. While we naturally do not suspect you are responsible as you were clearly at the shelter at the time, we need to consider the possibility that the perpetrator may have occupied your home."

Sunset placed a fore-hoof over her chest. "My God, you think someone broke in?? I thought the National Guard was supposed to prevent that sort of thing."

"They can't be everywhere, ma'am. You can assist by giving us permission to search your house."

Sunset paused. "Come again?"

"Given the mysterious circumstances of this Jane Doe's appearance and the fact that we're treating ETS as a biological attack, we're confident we can get a search warrant, but that will take time. You can assist us by cutting through the red tape, especially since you do seem to care about your friend here."

Sunset knew enough about American law to realize that his case was rather flimsy. Unless they had evidence of an actual intrusion, he wouldn't be asking her this. Yet there was always the outside possibility, however remote, that they truly did suspect her of being involved in this so-called "attack," and this was a fishing expedition to see if Sunset gave away any telltale signs of her guilt.

The problem with that theory was that it required Twilight to have chosen to work with the humans rather than take on Sunset herself. But would Twily be that foolish? She sincerely doubted that.

"Certainly," said Sunset.

"So you agree to allow us to search your home, Miss Sommers?"

"Yes, you have my permission. If somepony did do something to Frieda, I'd prefer that they not be out roaming the streets."

Sunset really had no other recourse. She was well within her rights to insist on a warrant, but that might raise a red flag that she cared more about her privacy than her friend, especially if their experts had already observed the newly-minted ponies expressing more concern for their fellow ponies than before.

"Thank you for your cooperation," said Anthony. "We'll try not to upset your house too much."

Sunset smiled. "Could you have somepony turn off the water heater while you're there? It's rather old, and I had forgotten to do so before coming to the shelter."

"I'll pass that request along."

"Thanks. Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"Just one more thing," said Anthony. "I was asked to follow up on an investigation into some missing blood samples from the hospital. I understand that you worked as a volunteer there?"

So, more fishing. "Yes, until the emergency was declared, and I was asked not to anymore. I had the mane and tail by then, and they had started treating it as an infectious disease."

"Do you recall any suspicious activity?" Anthony asked. "Anything at all out of the ordinary?"

"No, nothing," said Sunset.

Anthony nodded. "Thank you, Miss Sommers. That's all."

Sunset hopped off the chair. "Oh, Mr. Heller? Do you think it would be possible for arrange for me to visit Frieda?"

"That's not in my purview, but it's rather an unlikely prospect at the moment."

Sunset's ears drooped. "I was afraid of that. Maybe if she gets better, she can be transferred to this shelter?"

"Again, I'll pass that along, but I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"I understand. Thank you, anyway."

As Sunset was led from the room, her mind worked. She had no worries that the humans would find anything in her house. She had been careful to keep her diet restricted to vegetables and greens that humans would eat, and the wards she had in place would ensure that they would see only a blank wall where her apparatus was and a blank floor where the runic circle lay. Everything else she had of a magical nature was hidden behind yet more illusion spells.

Sunset was anxious to know what Star Singer had seen. She felt it crucial to proving once and for all that she had the right solution. She wanted something she could present to Twilight to hopefully make her see reason and come over to Sunset's side.

She had seen the most recent news reports. As she had expected, transforming humans were being subjected to persecution by scared masses. It would only force the ponies-to-be into closer groups, hastening both the development of new communities and the manifestation of pony magic. Soon she would be ready to bestow the first vision upon the new ponies of Lazy Pines, and the night ponies would eventually relay her message across the globe.

The seeds of a new pony society were about to be planted, and then she needed only to watch them grow.





Twilight stepped up to the front of the conference room. Despite her love for giving talks and lectures, the many human eyes on her made her think of the very first talk she gave under the watchful gaze of Princess Celestia while still her student. Celestia had thought that the best way to see if Twilight really understood the material was to give a lecture on it.

She fought down the nerves that threatened to twist her stomach into knots. Enough doubt and dissent existed in the ranks concerning magic, so she was told, that she was asked to demystify it as much as possible. She hoped to also use the lecture to give them an idea what to expect concerning their burgeoning pony population.

She turned to face the audience, seeing many unfamiliar faces. Most of them were physicians, biologists, and geneticists, but she had been told that several physicists had been pulled into the operation. Several FBI agents were present as well, likely to report back to Anthony later.

"Good afternoon," said Twilight. "Most of you have already heard of me, but let me introduce myself. My name is Twilight Sparkle. Before we begin, I want to make something very clear. Magic is real."

Her horn flashed, and she vanished to several shocked cries.

"Even if you don't want to call it that," said Twilight from the other side of the room, causing many to flinch before turning around in time to see her horn flash again, whereupon she reappeared at the head of the room. "It's still real." Her horn glowed, as did the lectern near her, which rose into the air. "Call it a 'sufficiently advanced technology' if you must, but we need to get past the disbelief stage now." She set the lectern down, extended her wings, and rose into the air. "Magic is not arbitrary. You don't wave a hand or a hoof and do whatever you want. It has rules, laws, and limits."

She landed and folded her wings, pausing a moment as she surveyed the reactions of the humans watching her. As she had hoped, many had already recovered from their initial shock and were looking on with interest. Some appeared skeptical even after her demonstrations, especially the physicists. It helped to see Kevin in the audience, someone who needed no more convincing. He smiled and gave her an encouraging nod.

"The basics first," said Twilight. "A field of energy permeates your universe. For lack of a better term, call it 'thaumic energy.' It's spread out fairly uniformly, regardless of whether you're here, on your moon, or out in deep space. It's in this very room, you simply can't sense it, much like you can't see individual air molecules, but you know they're there."

One of the physicists spoke up. "It sounds almost like you're describing dark energy."

"I'm not familiar with that term," said Twilight. "What is it?"

"Currently held theory states that, roughly speaking, only five percent of the universe is made up of ordinary matter," said the physicist. "Twenty-five percent is dark matter and seventy percent is dark energy. We call it 'dark' simply because we can't see it, but we have some empirical evidence for it."

Twilight smiled. "Some or all of that may indeed be thaumic energy. It doesn't interact on its own with the normal world until it's converted into magic. You can't imagine how delighted I am to hear that you actually have some evidence for it!"

"Well, yes," said the human in a dubious tone. "But we also believe it's spread incredibly thin. Hardly enough energy to do anything close to what you appear to do."

"It's possible you're not detecting all of it," said Twilight. "Do you have any theories that predict how much of this dark energy there should be, but observations fall short?"

The human's eyebrows rose, and he exchanged a surprised glance with a colleague. "Why, yes, we do. Quantum field theory predicts far, far more vacuum energy than we observe."

Twilight's smile widened. "This is wonderful! You were already on the verge of discovering the existence of the thaumic field. I would love to talk to you about this in more detail later."

"I do admit, I still reserve judgment."

"Understood. But perhaps now you can be more open to the possibilities. In a way, magic is simply a science you don't understand yet. It interacts with the world in a fundamentally different way than ordinary physics does." She turned her gaze towards the audience in general. "Which brings me to what I really need to talk about, which is how ponies use magic."

Twilight gestured to the side, and Starlight trotted up. "This is my good friend and assistant, Starlight Glimmer. She's a unicorn. She takes thaumic energy and translates it directly into physical effects. Her horn is used to project that magic. These effects are controlled by spells. If that terminology bothers you, think of it in terms of computing devices. A computer doesn't do anything unless you give it a program. A spell is simply a program for converting thaumic energy to magic. Starlight, if you would?"

Starlight nodded, and her horn glowed. A three-dimensional image of a smiling orange pony with a blonde mane and a hat on her head appeared.

"This is an image of my friend Applejack," said Twilight. "Note the lack of wings and horn. She's an earth pony. Her body continually converts thaumic energy into great physical strength and the ability to keep the soil fertile and encourage plant growth."

One of the biologists spoke up. "Are you saying that our patients who become, um, earth ponies will have these abilities, too?"

"Yes," said Twilight. "I've been told you've already witnessed their strength. Starlight?"

Starlight's projected image changed to a cyan pony with rainbow-colored hair, her wings flapping as she hovered in place.

"This is another friend of mine named Rainbow Dash," said Twilight. "She's a pegasus. Her body converts thaumic energy into magic that allows her to fly. That's why she can stay airborne despite the small wing-to-mass ratio. In fact, this particular pegasus is quite fast. She can briefly attain hyper-sonic speeds."

"Good Lord, are you serious??" someone cried.

"Ah, I should point out, not all pegasi can do that," said Twilight. "It would take a lot of training to accomplish speeds like that. But what all pegasi can do is control the weather and walk on clouds."

"Did I hear you right?" said one of the physicists. "Control the weather?"

"The atmosphere is, effectively, a heat engine," said Twilight. "It's governed by laws you understand. Pegasus weather magic makes use of those laws to alter how weather works. Generally one pegasus can affect only a very small area, maybe to create a brief rain shower that affects no more than, say, a quarter mile. It takes teams of pegasi working together to effect changes over a large scale."

"And this is how your world works?" the human asked in a perplexed voice.

"Yes, for the most part. Earth ponies manage the land and grow food. Pegasi keep the weather balanced. Unicorns fill a variety of other roles related to direct use of magic. That's not to say all ponies are born into a specific role due to their tribe. For instance, I have a pegasus friend who's devoted her life to helping animals, an earth pony friend dedicated to making others feel happy, and a unicorn friend who's into fashion design. Other ponies are devoted to the arts. I imagine we have as diverse a set of interests as humans do."

"What about yourself? You have wings and a horn."

"I'm a special type of pony called an alicorn," said Twilight with a small smile. "For the most part, that sort of status is earned. I started life as a unicorn and later became an alicorn through a process known as 'Ascension.' It took a great feat of magic after many years of learning before I reached this point, so it's very unlikely you'll see any among your kind."

Thankfully, the next person to speak was someone Twilight recognized. "Twilight, I received a report from the first shelter," said Sandra. "That's where the first set of complete transformations has occurred. The patients there are growing very adamant about using their new abilities."

Twilight had dreaded this coming up. She took a deep breath. "I think you should allow them to use their abilities within reason."

A murmur arose from the assembled scientists. Sandra consulted with one, nodding to him before turning back to Twilight. "May I ask why?"

"Right now, we're not sure when they can be changed back," said Twilight.

Starlight glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

"We have to focus on containment first," said Twilight. "We've already made some strides in that direction, as I've developed a means to remove the spell from those who are not transforming yet, and we have an explanation for Kevin's immunity, but we still need to solve the problem of scale. In the meantime, that may mean leaving these humans as ponies for a while."

Starlight turned towards her and said in a low voice. "I think you should tell them, Twilight."

"I told you before, I refuse to believe--"

"But if it's even remotely possible, they ought to know!"

"I'm trying to maintain a level of hope," Twilight said.

"And that's fine, but we have to be realistic as well. What about what you told me you said to Sarah? Doesn't that apply here as well?"

Twilight cast her gaze down for a moment. "All right." When she raised her head, she saw every human eye locked on her. "We're not sure yet, but it's possible ... it's just possible that the transformation may be permanent."

"That's preposterous," one of the physicists declared.

"Let me explain--"

"Could this so-called spell have been used to change a human into something other than a pony?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then if your magic system is as self-consistent as you claim it is, why can you not create a similar spell to change them back?"

"We don't know!" Twilight blurted. "All we know is that back on my world, the first creature Sunset transformed into a pony couldn't be changed back, and that was attempted by a pony far more powerful than me. Just like you don't know everything about how your universe works, we don't necessarily know everything there is to know about magic."

The human sighed in exasperation. "I still don't see why--"

"May I make a suggestion?" said Kevin loudly. "May I suggest that you cease browbeating Twilight? Unless, of course, you wish to give us a dissertation on the origins of the big bang, which I'm sure you've figured out by now and there's nothing left to discover."

The physicist frowned. "That's not quite the same--"

"Sniping at each other will get us nowhere," Sandra declared. "Twilight, please, continue."

"Thank you," Twilight said in a slightly quavering voice. "Sunset Shimmer's purpose is to create a new pony society on this planet. She thus likely instilled these new ponies with the ability to use magic to that end. While I don't want to see her plans succeed, the fact of the matter is, you have ponies now and will likely have a lot more before this is over. You can't be expected to feed and shelter them indefinitely."

"Isn't that just giving in to what Sunset wants?" one of the FBI agents asked.

"She wants a pony society for her own purposes. If you do wind up having a pony population here, don't you agree that having them find their own destiny is better than doing Sunset's bidding?"

Kevin smiled softly. "That sounds a lot to me like freedom, which last I saw was a treasured institution of this country."

Sandra sighed. "Kevin, be reasonable, we can't just turn them loose."

"I'm not saying we should throw open the doors all at once, but I think Twilight's suggestion bears consideration. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to reunite families we separated."

Starlight gave him a confused look. "Say what now?"

Twilight's eyes widened. "You separated families? On purpose?"

"Not intentionally," Sarah said quickly. "Sometimes family members came to the shelters at different times as their symptoms progressed at different rates, and shelters filled up."

"We did separate by gender," Kevin said.

Twilight gaped. "Why would you do that?"

"We knew as the transformation progressed, clothing would be more difficult to wear," said Sarah. "And Mr. Turner, the first transformation, showed no qualms with being naked."

"The nudity taboo, Twilight," said Starlight.

Twilight face-hoofed. "I forgot."

"I take it such a thing doesn't exist in your world," said Sandra.

"No, it doesn't," said Twilight. "And I imagine it doesn't exist for them, either. You may want to reconsider your arrangement. Ponies are herd creatures, and I suspect Sunset has amplified this. Forcing families to remain separated in that case is never a good idea."

"I have to admit, this would be a lot easier if we didn't have transformed humans who could fly, grab things with their minds, or break solid concrete without working up a sweat."

"Perhaps this would be an ideal time to ask about the variations we've seen," said Kevin.

"I'm going to take a guess," said Twilight. "You have ponies with membraned wings instead of feathers, correct?"

"Yes," said Sandra.

"They're called night ponies. They tend to be nocturnal, and they have an ability called dreamwalking, which allows them to affect the dreams of other ponies."

Sandra gave her an alarmed look. "You don't mean they do things like instill nightmares?"

"Oh, no, not at all! Quite the opposite, in fact. They help ponies deal with troubling dreams. In my world, they're loyal to one of our rulers, Princess Luna, who herself is a dreamwalker."

"So who are they loyal to on this world?" asked an FBI agent.

Twilight paused. "I'm not sure."

"Oh, like we can't guess," said Starlight sourly. "I can almost guarantee that Sunset has plans for them, or she wouldn't have had some humans transform into them."

"Should we keep them sedated as a precaution?" Sandra asked.

"That wouldn't work," said Twilight. "And it would just alert Sunset that we know of her plans. We may just have to monitor them."

Sandra consulted her notes. "What of the patients who have glass-like coats?"

"Glass-like coats?" said Twilight in bewilderment.

"It's like each individual hair has some sort of crystal-like coating we can't identify, and their eyes have a very odd faceted refractive aspect."

Twilight stared in astonishment. "You have crystal ponies??"

"How did Sunset manage that?" Starlight asked.

"I don't know! They weren't even around when Sunset worked on her spell!"

"Ah, can you enlighten us, please?" Sandra asked.

"Crystal ponies are indeed a type of earth pony," said Twilight. "They have the same abilities, but they have other powers that we don't fully understand yet. What we do know is that they can project and focus positive emotions to create powerful protective magic. Ancient records suggest they may have once been spellcasters like unicorns. The point is, they weren't around when Sunset researched her spell. All she had were records over a thousand years old."

"What does this mean?" Kevin asked.

"I don't know yet," Twilight said. "I can't imagine what Sunset would do with them, or how she could've created them in the first place. It's the one piece that doesn't fit."

"Let's not get bogged down worrying about it now," said Starlight. "We should finish this lecture so we can get back to work."

"I've got only one topic left," said Twilight. "Cutie marks."

"That would the marks on your haunches?" Sandra asked.

"Yes, indeed. Ponies are not born with them. They come later in life when a pony realizes what their best and dearest talent is. It's generally considered a very joyous moment in a pony's life, sort of a rite of passage."

"Are they just symbolic, then?"

Twilight smiled. "Not at all. They actually lend support to the pony's talent."

"They're a magic all of their own," said Starlight. "I did a lot of research into cutie marks for, ah, various reasons and discovered that the magic behind them is very complex. Even after all the work I did, I still don't fully understand it."

"Who or what distributes these marks?" Sandra asked.

"That's one of those things I don't know."

"Will transformed humans get them?"

"We only have one example of a successful transformation before coming here," said Starlight. "But, yeah, she got one, so I don't see why the ponies here wouldn't."

"They're not harmful in any way, if that's what you're worried about," said Twilight.

"I think I see Sandra's concern," said Kevin. "Where the initial reports said that these newly transformed patients already don't appear to have a desire to be changed back, something like this would be seen as a further mark of permanence."

Starlight suddenly blinked, and her eyes widened.

"I know you said that you're not yet sure if there is a physical permanence, but a psychological one can be just as--"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," said one of the FBI agents. "But I just heard from Mr. Heller. He wants to meet with Twilight and Starlight at once."

"Then I'll conclude the lecture," said Twilight. "I'll make myself available after the meeting with Mr. Heller if there are any further questions."

As the others rose from their seats, Starlight stepped close to Twilight. "I think I just figured out something. The thing that makes this transformation permanent? What if it's getting a cutie mark?"

"But you can remove a cutie mark."

"Remember what I told you back in Equestria?" said Starlight. "I never could completely sever that connection. What if it just can't be severed? What if once you get a cutie mark, it's game over, you're a pony forever?"

Twilight's eyes widened. "But that's ... w-we can't just tell ponies not to get cutie marks! We don't have control over that. Nopony does!"

"Yeah, but we don't have to encourage it, which is what might happen if they're allowed to do their own thing like you suggested."

"The last thing I want is for humans to be frightened of ponies," Twilight said. "And that's exactly what might happen if they remain cooped up and try to break out on their own. I want humans to see pony abilities as benevolent."

"The sense I'm getting here, Twilight, is that humans are naturally suspicious. Whether that's evolution, societal, or just this crisis, it doesn't matter. We do anything at all that even hints that we think this transformation is just fine and dandy with us--"

"Which I've stated repeatedly that it's not!"

"Perception is everything," said Starlight. "Maybe you didn't notice, but not once did they ever refer to those who are fully transformed as 'ponies'. They were always 'transformed humans' or 'patients.'"

"Yes, I did notice," said Twilight in a subdued voice. "All right, let's get this meeting with Mr. Heller done. Then we'll ask to examine a pony -- I mean, a fully transformed human -- and see if I can figure out just how pliant the morphic resonance is."





Twilight stared at Anthony in disbelief. "She gave you permission to search her house??"

"I was rather surprised myself," said Anthony. "But like her behavior during the rest of the interview, it could mean either that she really is a being of such power that she has no worries that mere humans can disrupt her plans, or she's what she appears to be: an outstanding member of the community caught up in this mess like the rest of the town."

"Oh, come on, you think we would point to some random unicorn and say she did it?" Starlight said in irritation.

"Starlight, please," said Twilight softly. "Mr. Heller, are you planning to follow up on this and perform a search?"

"Yes, we are," said Anthony. "You initially offered to come along with us. Is that offer still open?"

"Yes, of course it is, but ..."

"But what?"

Twilight frowned. "Perhaps you may think that Sunset is acting overconfident, but often she has a reason to be that self-assured. She's very clever and thorough."

"Are you saying whatever magic she has laid out is a match for your abilities?"

"No," Twilight said. "But she may very well detect anything that I do. It will be a dead giveaway that I'm collaborating with you."

"We can't just do nothing, Twilight," Starlight said. "Her device might be there."

"I know."

"Her portal is there! We could take control of it."

"Starlight, I know you're anxious to ensure that we have a way back home, but we can't be reckless!"

Anthony considered. "You said before that Sunset knows you're on Earth. Was she expecting you to just do nothing to stop her?"

"Of course not," said Twilight. "She's operating under the false belief that I think more like she does. If I were her, I would never think of making contact with the natives of this world. I would instead find a way to slip into town unnoticed and confront her directly."

"There has to be a way to get you in there unnoticed," Starlight grumbled.

"Or I could give her what she wants."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Er, what?"

"She's expecting me to confront her alone. Why not have Mr. Heller conduct his search, then sometime later, I go in alone. That has the advantage of Sunset believing she pulled one over on the humans."

Anthony leaned forward. "The only problem with that, Twilight, is that it would be of dubious legality if we find nothing on that initial search. You're not law enforcement, so it would be effectively a break-in. Even if you were, it would constitute a second search, which we would need permission or a warrant for."

Twilight sighed. "Mr. Heller, I understand and admire your desire to avoid accusing the innocent, but the longer we dither, the more chance she has to realize something is up and take countermeasures against it."

"But what do you expect to accomplish when you confront her?" Anthony asked. "Were you intending to try to apprehend her?"

Twilight paused. "I had hoped for one last chance to get her to see reason."

"That's a lost cause if you ask me," said Starlight.

"But I have to try. It's what I'm all about. It's also what Sunset is expecting. She's likely going to use that time to convince me of the merits of her plans."

Anthony looked thoughtful. "Are you saying she would be discussing her plans with you?"

"Yes, as I'm sure she already has with Star Singer."

"Would she be able to detect if you were carrying a hidden camera and microphone?"

Twilight's eyes widened. "Not if it doesn't have any magic attached to it! She could discover them with a scanning spell, but she'd have to know to actually do it."

"Sunset's been here twenty years," said Starlight. "She's familiar with their technology."

"Yes, but to assume that I have any of their technology presumes I got it from the humans, which again implies collaboration. If she does scan me at all, it will be for magical effects. It's a blind spot in her thinking I can take advantage of."

"With the added advantage that we get to see and hear what happens," said Anthony. "Which might furnish more proof of her alleged crimes. This setup, unfortunately, raises issues of entrapment--"

"Why is your legal system so incredibly dense?!" Starlight cried in exasperation.

"Just how are such matters handled on your world?"

"Most criminal investigators are unicorns," said Twilight. "They have spells that help determine the truthfulness of witnesses or suspects, as well as determining the accuracy of evidence."

"Unfortunately, we have no such techniques here," said Anthony. "Even the results of a lie detector can be successfully challenged in court. Thus our legal system has to lean very heavily towards burden of proof. As much as we're desperate to believe everything you're telling us, Twilight, it still amounts to two aliens we've never met before accusing a US citizen of bioterrorism. The only reason we're continuing to pursue this is due to a few irregularities in Miss Sommers' background."

"Irregularities?" said Starlight.

"We're having trouble getting accurate information on her parents. They're listed as deceased, and all the paperwork concerning their death certificates appears in order, but we can't locate her parents' birth certificates. There's just not a whole lot of information on her parents at all. We also had no luck identifying anyone named 'Frieda' who looked like Star Singer."

"Wait a minute," Twilight said. "I just thought of something. Sunset's been treated as any other patient since she reported to the shelter, right?"

"As far as I'm aware," said Anthony.

"Was any genetic testing done on her?"

"You'd have to ask Doctor Marlowe about that."

"What are you getting at?" Starlight asked.

"Back in Equestria, I had a conversation with Spike," said Twilight. "Back when we speculated that the device survived the trip but not Sunset. I had mentioned that the device wouldn't work as-is because it needed to be adjusted to the biology of this world, that Sunset would need to create something optimized for this world's environment. That means there should be subtle differences in the genetics of transformed humans and native Equestrians."

"I'm sure Sunset would've thought of that."

"Yes, it would be easy for her to secretly cast a spell to mask those differences," said Twilight. "But if a new sample was taken, I could strip away the concealing magic. Then they could test it, compare it to the testing that they did on us earlier, and see that there's a closer match to our genetics than their transformed humans."

"Doctor Marlowe had mentioned that a very small difference was found between your DNA and those of others," said Anthony. "It was likely what helped convince her to believe your story."

"That's it, then!" said Twilight. "That's how you can get more evidence that this Sadie Sommers is not what she appears to be."

"All right, I'll talk to Doctor Marlowe at once," said Anthony. "Is there anything you wanted to bring to my attention before we conclude this meeting?"

"Just one," said Twilight. "I'm concerned that the more complete transformations we have, the higher the chance Sunset will do something to provide them with a universal purpose."

"Does this have to do with the night ponies you mentioned?"

"Yes. I'm concerned that she plans to instill some sort of vision on everyone. While I don't want to do anything to the night ponies themselves and raise suspicions, I want a means to counter whatever Sunset tries to tell them."

"How do you propose that?" Anthony asked.

"I have an idea," said Twilight. "But it involves the person you've claimed is your prime suspect."

> Chapter 37 - Influence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred Turner stared at the door to his hospital room with a deep frown etched into his muzzle. He was sure he could take it down with one good buck, but how far could he get before somepony stopped him? And where would he go? He had rarely traveled beyond the grocery store at the edge of town in the self-delusional state that he had been held in.

He turned away from the door with a snort. Back in his military days, he had been careful never to feel hate towards anyone, even those who were the enemy on the battlefield. Hate had a nasty ability to spread. Hating the combatants could lead easily to hating the people. Yet he couldn't help but feel it well up within him when he thought of that damn little girl.

A girl who could be just a figment of his imagination, in which case he was only hating himself.

He stepped over to the window, planted his fore-hooves on the sill, and pulled himself up onto his hind legs. His tail swished as he cast a forlorn look at a field just outside the hospital grounds. Little dots of color here and there from early-blooming wildflowers heralded the arrival of spring. Fred had always liked wide open spaces, at least until that little imaginary witch got hold of him. It seemed like the person who had called himself Fred Turner for those twenty years had been in name only, just some strange person wearing his skin.

Now he had a completely new skin, one that seemed perfectly suited for him, and he hadn't even been given the dignity of being allowed to use it, except to entertain whatever notions of "research" the physicians here promulgated. He had had enough "research" to last him for the rest of his life.

A knock came at his door. Fred's fore-hooves fell to the floor with a loud clop, and he turned as the door opened. "Kevin! About time you checked on me again." Fred started forward. "Please tell me you've come to let me out of this ... uh ..."

Fred stopped near the center of the room, his pupils shrinking slightly as they fell on the purple pony who trotted inside after Kevin. Despite this being the first other pony he had met since his transformation, just her smell made her seem more familiar despite her wings and horn. 

"Who are you?" Fred asked in a softer voice.

The purple pony smiled and stepped closer. "My name is Twilight Sparkle."

Fred hesitated before cracking a small grin and chuckling. "That's one hell of a name."

"I know it must sound unusual to you, but there's a reason for that," said Twilight. "Is it okay if I call you 'Fred'?"

Had this been just a day or so ago, he might have insisted on "Mr. Turner" until he felt more comfortable with her, but he felt more at ease than he ever had meeting somepony new. "Sure."

"I'm not what you might think," said Twilight. "I'm not someone else who was transformed. I'm from another world."

Fred's eyes widened, and he glanced at Kevin. "If Kevin here didn't have such a deadpan look on his face, I'd say you were trying to play games with me. I've had enough of ponies doing that to me."

"She's on the level, Fred," said Kevin. "She's been trying to help stop what's happened to you from happening to others."

"So you're saying we're being visited by magic space ponies."

"Well, perhaps I'm not from space, but the rest is fairly accurate," said Twilight. She glanced towards the side, and her horn started to glow. "Here's some of that magic, if you would be so kind as to look towards your bed."

Fred recoiled a step as he witnessed one of his pillows floating in the air, surrounded by the same glow. He stared as the pillow bounced about before settling down onto the bed.

"Goddamn," Fred murmured. He turned back to Twilight. "Weird thing is, I'm not as shocked as maybe I should be."

"I'm not surprised," said Twilight. "You have your own magic, so seeing what I can do is not as much a surprise."

"My magic? You mean my strength?"

"Yes, exactly."

Fred lifted a fore-hoof and stared at it. "And all from becoming a little pony. Huh."

"I want to find a way to change you back if I can," said Twilight.

Fred's gaze snapped back towards Twilight.

"That's part of the reason why I'm here. I wanted to examine you."

Fred frowned as he lowered his hoof. "I've had enough of that. Can't you just check with the doctors here?"

"I want to examine you magically," said Twilight. "It won't hurt or be physically invasive in any way."

"Fred, I can attest to her gentleness," said Kevin. "I was subjected to it myself while she was researching my immunity."

Fred glanced between the two of them. "Sorry if I'm a little cagey about this. I've spent the last twenty years thinking somepony was messing with me in a way I couldn't control or stop."

Twilight gave him a sad look. "Yes, I know. I'm terribly sorry she did that to you."

Fred stared. "Wh-what??"

"She had no right to do that. She used you in a way I find disgusting."

Fred swallowed hard. "You mean ... sh-she was real?!"

"Yes, she was," said Twilight. "She simply used her magic to make her look like a little girl."

Fred's eyes blurred as tears welled up.

"Are you all right, Fred?" Kevin asked.

Fred waved a fore-hoof at him and looked at Twilight. He felt the urge to hug her. The idea that he could trust somepony he had just met would have seemed alien to him if it hadn't felt it on an almost instinctual level. Was he that desperate for some form of companionship that he would bet everything on one pony?

Fred took a step closer to Twilight. "Do you have any idea what exactly she did to me? Why did I act so oddly for the past twenty years?"

"Likely the result of a spell she cast on you."

"She babbled on about the magic being incompatible with me until I became a pony."

"Then it might have been an unintentional side effect," said Twilight. "But it doesn't excuse her doing it in the first place. I'm trying to stop her from doing any more damage."

Fred nodded. "Then do what you need to, if it means taking that little bitch down."

Twilight winced slightly, and Fred wondered what he had said wrong. Didn't she feel as strongly as him? Before he could ask about it, Twilight stepped back, and her horn started to glow, brighter than it had before.

"Just what are you doing?" Fred asked.

"It's a long story," said Twilight. "Suffice it to say, you have something called a morphic resonance that tells you who and what you are. It's what was modified to make you into a pony. I'm checking to see if it's possible to be modified a second time, to make you human again."

Fred had no idea how to react to that. The shrinks kept telling him over and over that he really should be a human and not a pony, and it still made little sense. They tried the tack of pointing out things that he could no longer do, such as eating meat, or things he no longer had, such as hands. Yes, he was indeed aware of what was no longer his, but all he wanted to do was focus on what he was and not what he used to be.

He was far more upset about what he had been forced to give up twenty years ago. He had been on his way to a distinguished career in the army. Even if he could be changed back into a human, he was too old to re-enlist. More frustrating, however, was that his pony form gave him far more strength and resilience than he ever had, but he doubted the military would be recruiting ponies anytime soon.

The glow in Twilight's horn finally faded, and she took a deep breath and let it go before she spoke. "Yes, I think it's possible to change him back."

"Then there is some hope for those who have been fully transformed," said Kevin.

"Yes, but it's going to take a lot more effort than we have time to do right now."

"Okay, so it sounds like you got what you needed," said Fred. "How about what I need? I want the hell out of here."

"I agree," said Twilight.

Fred blinked. "You do?"

"Yes. Regardless of whether you become human later, you're a pony now, and you need to be with others like you."

Fred frowned. "Then talk some sense into Mr. Heller. He's the one keeping me here."

"If we can get you out of here and into one of the shelters, would you be willing to do something for us?" Kevin asked.

"Anything! What is it?"

"The one who did this to you is a pony named Sunset Shimmer," said Twilight. "She wants to create a pony society shaped to her intentions. We need to stop her from gaining any traction in her plans."

Fred nodded. "Okay, I hear you. What do you want me to do?"

"You of all people know what it's like to have your destiny changed. We have to stop that from happening to anyone else. She's going to do something to try to influence people to live the way she wants them to."

"How is she going to do that?"

"We're not quite sure yet," said Twilight. "It might come to you in a dream."

"That's not much to go on," said Fred. "I'm not sure I know what to do."

"Fred, my understanding is that you were lauded as having good leadership skills," said Kevin. "You commanded men in battle. You could rally people around you if needed."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Who's going to want to listen to me? I'm just the crazy prepper. Everypony thinks I'm a total loon."

"Things may be a little different now," said Twilight. "In my world, ponies tend to forgive easily. If Sunset truly wants to create a similar society here, she would've instilled that idea in your peers."

Fred sighed. "Yeah, okay. I don't think it will be that easy, but I'll try. I need something to do, anyway. I need some sort of purpose since this Sunset bitch stole it from me."

Twilight gave Kevin a distressed look. Kevin looked back and said, "You better tell him."

Fred narrowed his eyes. "Tell me what?"

Twilight turned towards him. "I said that I might be able to change you back, but that might become impossible if you gain a cutie mark. Anything you do, anything you get passionate about, might trigger it."

Fred opened his mouth to ask just what a cutie mark was, but something simply clicked in his head, and the term suddenly was no longer completely foreign to him. Its familiarity slowly grew, and something in the back of his mind whispered that he wanted it. Yet he had enough experience with those sorts of thoughts to question whether they were really his or not.

"Twilight, I was a soldier," Fred declared. "I risked my life every time I went out on a mission. I've known people who were on what they thought were easy assignments in the back line get blown to bits by some insurgent. In light of that, I think I can handle being a pony."

"We do have one concern, Fred," said Kevin.

"Yeah, and I know what it is. You're afraid that once I see this Sunset pony, I'll want to wring her neck or call her out on her bullshit. I've been on infiltration missions before, Kevin. I know how to handle myself. If you really want to be safe, don't tell me what she looks like or what alias she's going under."

"That should be safe," said Twilight. "Sunset is not going to want to draw attention to herself if she can help it. We're still going to need to convince Mr. Heller. He was a bit dubious of my proposition."

"Sandra and I will work on him," said Kevin.

"We better get going for now, Fred," said Twilight. "We'll be in contact very soon, I promise."

Fred took a step towards her. "Hey, um, can I talk to you for just a minute, Twilight?"

Twilight smiled. "Sure. I'll catch up, Kevin."

Kevin nodded and headed out.

"What is it, Fred?" Twilight asked.

"Well, um, it sounds like you're fetlock-deep in pursuing a cure for this," said Fred.

"There's various aspects to it, but yes, that's essentially what I'm trying to do."

"Are you going to force everypony to change back?"

Twilight hesitated. "I'm not sure how to answer that. It probably won't be my decision. This is your world and your people. I can only suggest how to let you be comfortable in this form, but I can't enforce anything."

"I've just had enough of things being done to me without my say," said Fred. "I want somepony to actually ask me this time."

Twilight's eyes glistened. "I'll ... I'll see if they'll take that into account. That's all I can really say."

Fred paused, then nodded. "You're as honest with me as Kevin. I appreciate that."

Twilight slowly smiled, but it was bittersweet.





Bob had noticed a distinct change in mood among the technicians still observing them in the shelter. The sense of desperation that they had tried rather unsuccessfully to hide was still there, but now a myriad of other emotions had joined it. Some of their faces actually betrayed a tiny measure of hope, though often when they looked upon those with the most advanced symptoms, it turned to one almost of resignation. Others stepped off to the side in groups of two or three in hushed conversations that sometimes became obviously heated.

When it was his turn to be examined that day, he noted a faint look of apprehension on the technician's face. Bob had taken to striking up conversations with them, and they quickly became aware of his scientific knowledge and curiosity.

"So your tail came in fully this morning?" the technician asked in a detached voice, his eyes glued to a tablet PC.

As if in response to the comment, Bob's sea-green tail swished once. "Yes, I woke up with it."

"Have you any other new symptoms to report?"

Bob hesitated when he heard a clopping noise to the side. His heart lurched when he saw Harold reporting for an examination just a few spots down. He stood hunched over, his tail raised slightly, somehow balancing perfectly on hooves where feet should be. He stared at them for a long moment, trying to force his mind to see them as wholly unnatural and only partially succeeding.

"Mr. Tanner?"

Bob wrenched his gaze away. "Sorry. My ears are buzzing, and there's some itchiness on my legs."

"Would you submit to a blood draw?"

Bob was reminded of Harold's defiance the other day. "That depends."

The technician finally raised his head. "I beg your pardon?"

"Has there been some new development?"

The technician hesitated. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"It must be something big, from the way some of you have been debating it intensely among yourselves."

"Mr. Tanner--"

"Did you figure out something? Is it really some sort of affliction that rewrites genetic code in some fashion? Was influenza somehow modified to deliver new genetic instructions to all our cells?"

The technician lowered his tablet and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm really not at li... I mean, if we had anything substantial, we would inform you."

"I'm not so sure of that anymore," said Bob.

"Do you seriously believe we are covering something up?"

"Not in a malicious sense."

"We're simply trying to be realistic," said the technician. "We don't want to give anyone false hope."

"But it would be nice to have some hope."

The technician's gaze became clouded, and for a moment, Bob thought he had gotten through to him. Perhaps it was relief at having patients like Bob who could still question their transformation, as that was becoming more rare with each passing hour. Instead, the technician sighed and said, "We still don't have anything we can do for you at the moment, and that's all I can really say."

Bob thought perhaps he had heard a faint emphasis on the words "at the moment," or it could have been wishful thinking. So was there something like a cure in the works, but they needed to test it? Why weren't they calling for volunteers in that case?

He shuddered slightly. The last he had heard from Sarah the day before was that Laura was very close to the end state. For all he knew, she was a little winged pony already. If so, his adoptive parents would follow suit in less than a day. He alone would be the last one with any trace of humanity left in the family. He now felt a little like Harold did, wanting to protect his family but having no means to do it.

"May I take that blood draw now?" the technician asked.

Bob nodded his assent and held out his arm. As the blood was drawn, he stared at the appendage as if to prove to himself it was still there. The hand was still a hand, the fingers still fingers. They were there because they were supposed to be there. At the same time, his tail twitched, and it felt just as much a part of him as well. He had a tail because--

He interrupted that line of thought, but the constant background noise of clopping hooves threatened to end his line of self-inquiry. With as fast as his condition was advancing, some part of him just wanted it to be over, but not the kind of "over" that he thought he should be wishing for.

"Thank you for your cooperation," said the technician when he was done.

Bob nodded and headed away. A few moments later, he heard the clop of approaching hooves behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, son?"

Bob didn't want to turn around, as looking at Harold would only make it more difficult to hold on to what he should be. Nevertheless, he didn't want to damage the delicate rapport that had finally developed between them, and he turned around.

Harold had given up trying to get his jeans to fit with his rapidly changing form, and he had opted for some shorts instead. His legs were completely covered in red fur, and they were taking on a decidedly more equine structure. Joints had started to migrate, and the musculature was changing. Even the hair on his head had arranged itself to look more like a mane.

Bob gritted his teeth briefly as he forced his conscious mind to disregard what he was seeing as natural. He decided not to answer Harold's question. "Did you try getting them to relent about seeing the rest of the family?"

"No, I didn't bother. We have other plans."

"We?"

"A few friends of mine are going to take matters into our own hooves," said Harold in a low voice. "When this is finally over, we're going to give them one more chance to reunite us. If not, well, we don't think that flimsy wall they erected will withstand a good buck or two."

Bob tried not to shudder. It sounded as if Harold had already given into whatever compulsion was dictating that being a pony was a desirable end state. Yet that would be quintessentially Harold; if he couldn't do anything in his human form, then why not accept he was going to be a very strong earth pony and make use of that?

"I don't want to see anyone hurt," Bob said slowly to ensure that his mind didn't try a pronoun substitution.

"We're not going to turn on the ones running this show," said Harold. "We're not really mad at them, just the situation. Our families need to be together, Bob. We won't settle for less than that."

"Just how many friends do you have here now?" Bob asked.

"About six," said Harold. "No, seven. There was the fellow I met this morning when I was trying to balance on these hooves."

"That's more than you've ever had, I think."

"Circumstances are making it hard not to stick together."

Bob thought it was more than that, and he had trouble resisting the urge to be more social than he had ever cared to be in his life. He only then realized how a new term had slipped into his mental lexicon without him noticing at first: earth pony. Now he couldn't divorce his mind of the term when he looked at Harold.

His thoughts were mercifully interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. He yanked it out, hoping it was Tina, his eyes widening at the caller ID. "It's from Mom."

"You better take that," Harold said.

Bob nodded absently and stepped away before answering. "Um, hi."

"Heya," came Eileen's subdued voice. "I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now--"

Bob covered his eyes with his free hand for a moment. "No, stop that. I never meant you had to walk out of my life."

"Sorry, I'm still trying to get used to the new world order, so to speak."

"Is anything wrong?"

"Everything is actually right," said Eileen. "If the doctors-cum-wizards here have anything to say about it."

"What do you mean?"

Eileen hesitated before saying, "According to them, I'm cured."

Bob froze. "Wait, what??"

"You were right, it was the flu all along." Eileen chuckled. "I guess they should call it 'pony flu' or something."

"But how does it do it?" Bob demanded. "Are you saying they figured that out?"

"More like someone told them how it worked, and they went along with it. So I guess there's a chance it might not. I'm being kept in the hospital for a few days to make sure."

Bob's head was spinning. "Why haven't they told us anything?" He paused. "Are you supposed to be telling me this?"

Eileen laughed. "Not really, but unless they intended to tear up the Constitution and stomp on the pieces in front of me, they can shove their censorship up their collective asses."

Bob glanced around him. Too many people had pony ears; it would be impossible to find someplace he could speak freely. He had to be careful what he said. "So are they going to start distributing something to the rest of us?"

"Well, uh, that's kinda the problem," said Eileen. "I was told that trying to cure people who were already becoming ponies would be harder."

"Who told you this?" Bob demanded.

"A little purple pony with a wings and a horn."

"What??"

"Yeah, I'm still having trouble believing this myself, and I was the one actually subjected to this hocus-pocus," said Eileen. "Apparently magic is behind all this."

"Magic doesn't exist," Bob deadpanned.

"Well, I sure as hell had no explanation for what I saw or felt. It might as well be that."

Bob ran a hand through his hair. "Why are you telling me all this, Mom?"

"I thought you had a right to know that they haven't figured everything out yet," said Eileen. "And ... well ... I guess, true to form, I had a selfish reason. I, um, wanted to know if you resented me for taking a cure that wasn't going to work for you."

"Of course not," Bob said in a firm voice. "Why would I be?"

"It wasn't until afterward I thought, well, maybe if I became a pony, too, we'd relate to each other better."

Bob gripped the phone a bit tighter. At least he had no worries about breaking it, as he had exhibited none of the strength as others had. "We talked about this, Mom. You need to find your own path."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard not to cling to what's familiar, even if it hurts."

That statement struck Bob harder than perhaps his mother had intended. Had he not been struggling to hold on to what he had considered was the familiar, namely his humanity? Though he could rightfully argue it went far beyond just what was "familiar." It was what he was supposed to be, except now something was increasingly telling him otherwise. He kept looking for some outside vector, something influencing him remotely, yet it instead felt like it welled up from inside him.

Trying to cling to what he was rather than what he was becoming was hurting, in a way.

Bob let out a ragged breath. "I'm happy for you. Mom, I really am. But were you serious when you said this was caused by magic?"

"Yeah, and the doctors here seem serious about it, too. They told me that ponies can use magic, so maybe that will give you something to look forward to if they can't stop this."

Bob heard his mother's voice quaver. It had taken her some courage to say that.

"Listen, um, an orderly just showed up to draw some blood," said Eileen. "I have to go. You take care, okay?"

"Okay, Mom," said Bob in an unsteady voice. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And ... t-tell Sarah I love her, too."

Bob's lips curled into a tremulous smile. "I will."

Eileen hung up, and Bob slowly lowered the phone. He took a deep breath to settle his emotions, but it did little good. His ears seemed to buzz even worse now, and the itching on his legs grew worse.

And now he was developing a dull headache as well.





Heather had arrived in the shelter the day before with a sense of dread hanging over her like a dark cloud, and seeing how much more advanced everyone else was had not helped. She had not really wanted to associate with anyone, thus she thought herself lucky when she found a far corner that no one had wanted.

It hadn't taken her long to figure out why she had that corner to herself. She appeared to be the only one who had wanted to remain alone. Everyone else seemed to gravitate into groups of at least three or more. Even when they weren't necessarily doing the same thing together, they didn't part ways, and they accepted newcomers with ease.

Being left alone had suited Heather just fine the day before, but since awakening to the sound of hooves earlier that morning, she looked longingly at the others. Despite the ease with which she conversed with patients at Doctor Conner's office, she tended to enjoy solitude when she was off-duty.

As she stared at the sparkling spring green fur now starting to cover her legs, she wished she hadn't told Kevin not to come looking for her. She could have used his comforting presence. She contemplated calling him again on more than one occasion, but convinced herself that she didn't want to disturb him.

She distracted herself with a game on her phone until a shadow fell over her. Thinking it was one of the technicians, she didn't bother to look up. She still felt miffed over her offer of help being rebuffed, even after proving to them she was a registered nurse, so she wasn't in the mood to be compliant.

"Heather?"

Heather's gaze snapped up, and her heart lurched. "Oh, um, hello, Mrs. Tanner."

"Then it is you," Sarah said, almost in relief. "I was hoping I would see you again."

Sarah stood balanced on two hooves, her tail raised to compensate for her stooped posture. She had obviously given up trying to adjust her pants to suit her increasingly equine anatomy, thus the shorts she wore exposed her fur-covered legs. Heather tried not so stare too much at them, as they only reminded her of the fate in store for herself in another day or so.

Heather gave her an uncomfortable smile. "Not much to see, really, unless you're into sparkly hair. Um, is there something you needed?"

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for my family."

Heather hesitated a long moment before setting the phone aside. She suddenly felt a twinge of guilt over her earlier detached reply. The Tanners held as much a special place in her heart as they had with Kevin, even if she was more loathe to admit it. "Mrs. Tanner ..."

"Please, call me Sarah, for heaven's sake," said Sarah. "I've always wanted to tell you that, but I was never able to. You were always the consummate professional and very kind at the same time."

Heather's mind spun with conflicting thoughts. Was this meant to be some sort of farewell, like what a patient who knew he was dying might say to those who had tried to help? She could sympathize better with Kevin and his lingering guilt about his deceased wife. Kevin had expounded on how caring to a fault his wife had been. Had she done something similar to everyone who had tried to cure her?

She glanced at Sarah's hooves, sitting against the floor as steady as if Sarah had been born with them. Heather remembered the day Fred Turner had arrived in the office with hooves. That had spooked her like nothing had in her life, and now all she could conjure was a tiny shudder.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you," said Sarah in a low voice, and Heather stared as the hooves started to turn away.

"No, wait," Heather blurted.

The hooves stopped, then turned to face her again.

Heather rose to her feet, but they refused her initial commands, and she nearly toppled. Sarah's hands were too stiff to grab Heather's arms properly, so she wrapped her arms around Heather instead to steady her.

The sudden close contact felt both familiar and alien at the same time, and Heather's mind briefly reeled. She felt a strange sensation, a faint buzzing that raced through the core of her being, like a mild electric current. She shuddered slightly, and Sarah drew back. 

"I-I'm sorry, Heather, I just didn't want you to fall, but I can't use my hands anymore," said Sarah.

Heather blinked rapidly, then shook her head. "No, that's not why I ... um, never mind."

"I guess maybe I already sensed you wanted to be alone," said Sarah. "But I felt like I had to do or say something when I realized it was you."

Heather managed a small smile. "I'm glad to hear my work was appreciated. If I seemed a bit standoffish, I was just reflecting on what I was about to lose when I don't have hands anymore."

"How long have you been a nurse, Heather?"

"My whole adult life," said Heather. "I already knew I wanted to do it when I was in high school. Maybe being a nurse is not as glamorous as being a doctor or a surgeon, but it let me help a much greater variety of people. That's all I ever wanted to do was help people, Sarah. How am I supposed to do that now when I can barely help myself?!"

Heather hadn't realized just how much emotion she had trapped inside her like an overfilled dam waiting to burst until she saw Sarah staring at her with glistening eyes. She swallowed hard and let out a shuddering breath. She wanted that unintentional hug again.

As if responding to her thoughts, Sarah gave her what she needed.

Heather closed her eyes and hugged her back, and again that strange buzzing sensation rose, spreading through her like a pleasant warmth. She found it strangely comforting, but she had no idea where it came from. She was not a very physically demonstrative person when it came to showing affection, and often only a quick embrace or a peck on the cheek was enough for her.

When Sarah broke off the hug, the sensation faded. "Did you just feel something odd?" Heather asked.

Sarah tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it was like some kind of weird current. It felt nice, but ..."

Sarah reached a hand up to her horn. "I've been feeling things like that in here. I, um, was told that I might be able to do some impressive things with it eventually."

"Yes, but I don't have a horn," said Heather. "I think I would have one by now if I was going to get one. I don't even have the precursor headaches."

"I don't know if this will help, but I talked to somepony earlier this morning who assured me that I would still have control of my own destiny after this."

Heather nodded slowly. She hadn't wanted to come out and say it, because it would sound stupid even to her own ears, but she felt whatever had just happened meant something, just as assuredly as many of the winged women in the shelter felt their wings ought to work. It made little logical sense, but then again, so did he idea that patients were turning into small colorful ponies when it first started to happen.

"I just don't like not knowing what to do," said Heather. "The future never really worried me before, because I knew what I would be doing with my life. Even the times I was out of work, I never lost sight of that. I can't see that future anymore, and it scares the hell out of me."

"It's a bit scary to me as well," said Sarah. "Even the reassurance I received can only go so far. I'm going to have to see what will happen."

Heather glanced down at Sarah's legs. "You're probably going to be a pony by tomorrow."

"I know," Sarah said softly. "I've been told that Laura already is."

"I'm sorry."

Sarah shook her head. "We have to look ahead, not behind. I have a feeling Laura is thinking that as well."

"I'll try," said Heather. "It's just a little hard right now."

Sarah nodded. "I should get back to Jenny. You're welcome to join us if you want."

Heather's remaining desire for solitude evaporated like so much mist. As much as she was used to giving others support, she needed it now herself. "I'd like that, thank you."





At the other end of the portal, a tired unicorn mage stepped up to his sovereign. "We've analyzed the portal as much as we can, Princess. We don't see an easy means to reopen it right now."

Celestia cast a forlorn look at the device that Twilight had built to stabilize the portal. Once Celestia had been informed that Twilight and Starlight had gone through, she had ordered her best mages to devise a means to reopen it should it become necessary. She was well aware that, without any clear way to communicate with Twilight, she wouldn't know when that time would come.

"The portal is locked down at the other end," said the unicorn. "The only way to overcome it would be by brute force, and we don't want to risk destabilizing it. We might be able to come up with a means to bypass it, but it will take a great deal of time and research."

Celestia let out a slow sigh. "You did your best."

"We'll keep at it, Princess."

"Thank you."

Celestia approached the group of ponies who had gathered at the other side of the room, having given the unicorn mages a wide berth so as not to interfere with their work. "I am so sorry there's nothing I can do. I know you must be anxious for news."

"No denyin' we're a might worried," said Applejack. "But Twi can take care of herself, Princess, an' she's got Starlight with her."

"She's gone off on distant excursions before," said Rarity.

"Normally, I would agree with you," said Celestia. "But this is not the same as being in another part of Equestria. She's in a completely different universe with a very tenuous connection back to our own."

"Oh, I don't know," said Fluttershy. "There was that time we went through a sort of portal to the Breezies' world. That stayed open only for a short time, and we all made it out."

Celestia smiled gently. She should have known she could count on Twilight's friends to be upbeat. "I suppose I still harbor some lingering guilt, my little ponies. Sunset Shimmer should be my problem, not Twilight's."

"Auntie, I've told you before, that's not going to do anypony any good," said Cadance. "My advice would be to focus on what to do after this mess is over."

"You're quite right," said Celestia. "It's imperative that the natives of that world know that Equestria wants only peace."

Applejack smiled. "An' we'd all be happy to be yer first delegation to that there world."

"Oo, does anypony know if they have parties over there?" Pinkie said. "Because I'm sure that would be the perfect way to break the ice with them."

"Pinkie, darling, would you even know what to serve?" Rarity asked. "They are meat-eaters, from what I understand."

"Cake is a universal food, Rarity. So is candy, and ice cream, and fruit punch, and--"

Applejack smirked. "I think we get the picture, Pinkie."

"As much as I am happy for your enthusiasm," said Celestia in a more somber tone. "Our approach will be dictated by how much damage Sunset has caused."

"Twi's stopped other threats before they got outta hoof," said Applejack. "Or she found a way to repair things afterward."

"Yes, like when Tirek took all of Equestria's magic," said Rarity. "We were able to return every last bit of it."

Celestia was hesitant to point out the flaw in that thinking, that many large threats in the past relied on some connection to Harmony magic in order to set things right. She had no idea if anything similar existed on Earth. None of the previous explorations of that world had reported detecting anything like it, though admittedly not as much was know about the concept in those bygone days.

"I noticed Rainbow Dash is not among you," said Celestia.

"She's off to the Griffon Kingdom," said Pinkie. "She's going to try to track down who Derpy's natural parents are."

"How's Derpy holdin' up?" Applejack asked. "That must've been a mighty shock to her."

"As best as can be expected," said Rarity in a solemn voice.

"I met with her this morning in a cafe for some tea," said Fluttershy. "She's still very confused as to what to do now. She's so worried that her natural parents won't want anything to do with her because she's a pony."

"How're her adoptive parents takin' it?" asked Applejack.

"I asked them to come to Canterlot at my expense," said Celestia. "They are more than willing to support her in whatever she wants to do."

"It ain't right to be taken from somepony's family like that. I jus' hope there ain't too much of that goin' on over in that other world."

Cadance gave Applejack a nervous look before stepping forward. "Auntie, can I talk to you alone for a few moments?"

Celestia's heart sank. She had dreaded this moment. She nodded before saying to the others, "I will let you know the moment I have any more information."

"Thank you, Princess," said Rarity. "We plan to extend our stay in Canterlot until we hear something."

As the others headed out, Celestia approached Cadance. "Will you and Shining Armor be staying as well?"

"Of course," said Cadance. "I've sent a letter to Sunburst asking him to bring Flurry Heart to Canterlot." She smiled. "You'll get a chance to see your grand niece."

"That will certainly be a well-needed bright spot," said Celestia.

"But I do have to bring up something sooner rather than later."

"I know," said Celestia with a sigh. "What to do with Sunset when this is over."

"I did some research in the Canterlot Archives," said Cadance. "There's no precedent for this. Every time some large evil was perpetrated in our world, the damage was always temporary. Like Rarity said, even Tirek's damage was reversed. Discord doesn't even really count because he never set out to actually hurt anypony."

"Sunset would not hurt anypony, either, Cadance."

"Yes, but are the natives of that other world going to see it that way? Especially if a significant portion of them are permanently transformed?"

Celestia uttered an exasperated sigh. "I do admit, I am dismayed you are bringing it up now. We have no idea how far Sunset's plans have gone."

"I bring it up because at this moment, her parents are starting to plan for Sunset's funeral," said Cadance. "They still think she's dead, and I'm hard-pressed to keep that secret any longer, especially when they keep asking where Twilight is. They need to be told Sunset is alive, Auntie."

"And when they ask me what Sunset is doing, how shall I answer them? More truths that will hurt them more than they already are? Or should I pile on more lies that will comfort them and cause a sharper pain later?"

"I think you just answered your own question."

Celestia cast her gaze downward. "Yes, you're right. There's been enough deception. I will go to them at once."

Cadance glanced to the side. "Before you do, I think there's somepony else who could use a few words of comfort."

Celestia turned her head, and her gaze fell upon Spike. He sat at the table Twilight had used for her experiments, idly tracing circles on its surface with his claw. His Power Ponies comic book lay open off to the side, forgotten. His face betrayed a mix of resignation and worry.

"I'll speak with him," said Celestia in a soft voice.

Cadance smiled before heading out.

Celestia stepped up to the table. "Spike?"

Spike flinched and straightened up. "Oh, um, hi, Princess!" He snatched the Power Ponies comic and pulled it into his lap. "Just doing some research while Twilight's gone! Er ..." He blushed and tossed the magazine to the side, pulling one of Twilight's books into his lap instead. Upside-down. "Yep, research!"

Celestia gently levitated the book out of Spike's grip and set it off to the side. "Spike, I know you're worried about Twilight--"

"Me, worried?" Spike waved a claw at Celestia. "Nah! Just because she's in some world that's so far away that not even my letters would reach her -- not that I tried more than about a hundred times or so, just to be sure -- and that she doesn't have her number one assistant with her -- she's totally lost without me, you know -- and that I have no idea when she'll ever be back ... um ... "

He trailed off as Celestia looked on with a cloudy gaze.

Spike fidgeted, tapping his claws together. "Um, okay, maybe I'm a little worried."

"Spike ..."

"I begged her to let me come!" Spike cried. "I wanted to go with her, I really did! She was worried how the natives would react to me."

Celestia smiled. "She didn't want to scare them by having a ferocious dragon at her side."

A tiny smile tugged at Spike's lips.

"I'll be honest with you, Spike," said Celestia. "I'm a little worried as well. But Twilight has always come through, and I strongly feel this time will be no different."

"I really hope so, Princess."

"If you need somepony to talk to, please stop by any time."

"Aw, you're gonna be busy with the nobles at Day Court."

"You have a permanent spot ahead of all of them," said Celestia. "Believe me, you are much more pleasant company than them."

Spike chuckled.

Celestia smiled and started to turn away when her gaze fell on some papers on the table. She stopped and gave them a curious look when she saw a part of a picture of Discord peeking out from under the other pages. She levitated them before her. "Spike, what are these?"

"Oh, those are Sunset's power equations that Twilight told you about," said Spike.

"Indeed?" Celestia began to shuffle though them. Her eyes widened as she came to the page graced with her own picture. "And this one is of me?"

"Yep. Twilight said she thinks it was all part of Sunset's ideas about how much magic Equestria needed."

Celestia turned more fully towards him, still levitating the page. "And is this analysis complete?"

"According to Twilight it is," said Spike.

Celestia stared at the equations documenting her power and suddenly fell to her haunches.

Spike blinked. "Er, Princess? Is everything--"

"Oh, my dear, poor, deluded Sunset," Celestia whispered. "How could a pony so brilliant be so horribly wrong?"
> Chapter 38 - Hard Choices
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight and Starlight cantered down the corridor Thursday morning, their security contingent jogging alongside. The people directly assigned to them had been changed; Anthony had referred to them as "Secret Service," the same agency that protected people like the President or foreign dignitaries. Twilight chose to take that as a positive sign that they were being treated more like diplomats than suspicious foreigners.

Twilight had to restrain herself from using her magic to open doors, as it was the Secret Service's job to go on ahead into any area she visited. She was reminded of what she had read about Celestia's court back in the days when protocol was more formal; she, too, had a contingent of Royal Guards who accompanied her everywhere she went, even though she was far more capable of dealing with threats herself.

Twilight and Starlight burst into the conference room. "Sorry we're late!" Twilight said as they hopped into their assigned seats. "Please tell me there's some coffee left."

Kevin smiled and gestured to the still half-full coffee pot over by a table against the wall.

"Thank you," Twilight gushed as she poured a cup with her magic.

Starlight leaned over and said out of the corner of her mouth, "I've already tried it. You're not missing much."

"Caffeine is caffeine, no matter what world we're in," Twilight declared as she levitated the cup to her muzzle.

"Are you all right, Twilight?" Kevin asked. "You look a little bleary."

"I was up late last night trying to learn as much as I can about your world's technology," said Twilight. "This morning, Starlight and I were scanning arriving staff and casting counterspells where needed."

"Just how many of them were affected?" Sandra asked.

"More than half. They all had the flu recently."

"I believe we all owe these two some thanks," said Kevin. "The whole emergency zone operation would be breaking down by now."

"I understand you have existing staff that have started to show flu symptoms," said Twilight. "I can check on them later this morning. I can't stop them from being sick, but I can stop it from progressing to transformation."

"Is it just the hardened nature of the virus, or is this a new vector?" Anthony asked.

"We've established the vector," said Sandra in a level voice. "Hair."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"

"The hair of those in the process of transforming is shedding influenza."

"Yes, that would make perfect sense," said Twilight. "It would allow it to spread to authorities who attempted to help those who were affected."

Anthony frowned. "Why didn't we see this before now?"

"Because all tests for active influenza infection are based on respiratory samples," said Sandra. "There's no reason to think the virus would exist elsewhere in the body. It wasn't until magic entered the equation that we started thinking outside the box, and even then we had to rig up something and do repeated tests for any sort of accuracy."

"What about those fully transformed?" Kevin asked.

"They're clean. It apparently halts once the end state is reached."

"Coming back to the counterspell," said Anthony. "Has any progress been made on how to distribute this apparent cure to the masses?"

Twilight sighed. "Not yet. That's why I was interested in your technology. I don't have a magical solution yet, so I was hoping I could find something of yours I could adapt. I'm still investigating."

"I feel I have to emphasize that we need a solution fast. According to Doctor Marlowe, the number of new ETS cases is accelerating."

"You don't have to tell me that, Mr. Heller," said Twilight. "I'm the one who can feel the transformation magic building up. I'm well aware we're on a deadline."

"Deadline?" said Kevin.

Twilight exchanged a look with Starlight. "We talked about this last night after we received the latest figures from Sandra. We estimated that we have five days to stop or slow this down. After that, it will be almost impossible to stop."

Several people let out troubled sighs. Sandra briefly covered her eyes with her hand.

Twilight's eyes glistened. "I'm sorry, but we thought you had a right to know."

"Do we have any contingencies at all?" Anthony demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. "What about changing transformed humans back to normal?"

"That's a far greater undertaking than what we're already trying to accomplish."

"Twilight, we already have ETS-affected people coming together into their own little communities."

"Yes, I know," Twilight said in exasperation. "It's the herding instinct coming into play. Ponies tend to do that for their own mutual protection. It's why I suggested that you let your already transformed patients in the emergency zone come together as a group."

"With all due respect, we're not here to pave the way for Sunset's pony utopia on Earth," said Anthony. "We're not going to do anything to encourage the intended end result."

"I'm only thinking of their welfare--"

"Let's instead focus on the welfare of the remaining humans, shall we?"

Starlight frowned. "You know, this isn't my idea of a good time, either. We're just trying to--"

Twilight pressed a hoof into her shoulder. "Starlight, stop, please."

"Sorry," Starlight murmured.

Twilight looked over the faces of the assembled humans. Was their fear so great that they wanted to ignore the problem that was right in front of them? She was aware of the news reports of ponies-to-be being subjected to violence when they weren't being outright shunned. She had hoped to appeal to reason, but that was difficult when they were watching their own civilization collapse before their eyes. She sorely wished these humans were turning into something other than ponies; then she could be more detached.

As it was, she couldn't help but feel sympathetic to the transformed. They hadn't asked for this to happen, and they didn't deserve to be treated badly. She believed they had a right to be comfortable until they could be changed back. She didn't want to see anyone suffer, either human or pony.

Twilight caught Kevin's eyes, and she was immensely grateful to see no judgment in them. Instead, he said in a calm voice, "May I make a suggestion? Let's leave the disposition of those transformed to the emergency operations staff. Mr. Heller, what was it you told me before Twilight and Starlight arrived that was the embodiment of the President's attitude towards those affected?"

Anthony let out a long sigh. "His exact words were: 'I don't give a damn what they look like now, they're still American citizens.' My question, however, is: do they still consider themselves Americans anymore?"

"Mr. Turner seemed to be very vociferous about asserting his rights as an American."

"As far as I can tell, this transformation doesn't alter or remove memories," said Twilight. "Yes, it's given them new priorities, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll reject your existing institutions."

Twilight had overhead on more than one occasion the term "brainwashing" being applied to what had happened to these unfortunate humans. She tried to see it from their perspective, as anything less would be to lose sight of what she had come here to do. Not for one moment would she ever think Sunset was even remotely justified in what she had done. As much as Twilight wanted to see those who may be permanently transformed live their lives in relative happiness, she realized that only the humans could decide what the right thing to do was with regards to their fellow humans, transformed or not.

Anthony rubbed his eyes. "I want to apologize for my combativeness just now."

Twilight shook her head. "No, I'm the one who needs to apologize. To put it bluntly, I need to butt out of affairs that concern the disposition of your transformed people. I'll provide as much advice as you wish, but I need to leave their welfare in your hands."

"This is largely the stress talking," said Kevin. "God knows I had my own episodes where my assistant Heather bore the brunt of them. I think we can all agree we want the best possible solution."

"Perhaps we should take a short break," said Sandra as she stood. "I need to follow up on those genetic tests we ordered yesterday on the new immunities we discovered."

"Um, Twilight?" Starlight said in a meek voice. "I'm sorry for running off at the mouth earlier."

"It's fine, Starlight," said Twilight softly. "Kevin's right, we're all really stressed right now."

Starlight hopped out of her chair. "I need some water. You want anything?"

Twilight shook her head. "I'm fine."

Twilight propped up her head with a fore-hoof. It seemed hard to believe that only a week ago she was taking a leisurely walk with Rarity in Canterlot which led to the start of this mess. She wondered if she could've done anything differently, perhaps penetrated Celestia's secrecy sooner or worked harder on unraveling how the portal worked.

"If it helps any, Twilight," Kevin said softly, "I think it's only natural to worry about the welfare of the transformed. I imagine they seem just like your own kind."

"I was quite struck by how Fred looked and even smelled like an earth pony stallion might back home," said Twilight. "I had trouble seeing him as once human. I'm sorry for that."

"As much as you might seem alien to us, there's a lot of similarity between humans and ponies. We both care about our own kind."

"Yes, but I can't lose sight of the fact that these transformed people are not my own kind, they're your kind."

Kevin smiled. "But we can care about each other's kind as well."

Twilight slowly smiled. "I'd like to think that we do."

Starlight returned to the table, levitating a glass of water before her. Twilight stared at the glow of Starlight's horn for a long moment.

Sandra approached the table. "The genetic tests came back positive for the same mitochondrial mutation that Kevin has."

Twilight turned her head and stared at the cell phone still in Sandra's hand.

"So does this mean we're on our way to a possible vaccine?" Anthony asked.

Twilight looked back at Starlight's horn, then at the cell phone again.

Sandra sat down. "That may be a long ways off. According to Twilight, there's no guarantee that the mutation will always give rise to a boosted immune system, not to mention it requires that the ambient magic be present, which we want to get rid of in the long run."

"I want to hear Twilight's opinion on this," said Anthony.

Twilight's eyes widened slightly, her gaze still fixed on the cell phone.

"Twilight?" Kevin prompted.

Starlight looked at Twilight and smiled as she murmured, "Three ... two ... one ..."

"That's it!" Twilight cried.

"You have an idea about a vaccine?" Anthony said.

"No, not that! I just had another idea!" Twilight said in an excited voice. "I had mentioned once to Sandra that when a unicorn performs magic, a small amount of that thaumic energy is wasted as light, which is why our horns glow. According to your physics, light is a form of electromagnetic energy. So thaumic energy can be converted into it. What if there was a way to convert electromagnetic energy into thaumic energy?"

"What would that accomplish?" Starlight asked.

Twilight jabbed a hoof towards Sandra's cell phone. "You see that device, Starlight? I learned that's called a 'cell phone'. It lets her communicate with anyone on the entire planet in realtime."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Are you serious? How do they do that?"

"Electromagnetism!" Twilight said. "They use that energy for a significant portion of their communications technology. What if some of that could be converted into thaumic energy and hence magic?"

"Uh, are you suggesting we use that to somehow broadcast the counterspell?"

"No, that would require far too sophisticated a mechanism and likely too much power. I'm looking for something simpler. Something more brute force."

Starlight smirked. "And I thought you said a brute force approach wouldn't work."

"That was before I had any idea just how advanced their technology was."

"Excuse me for interrupting," said Anthony. "But could you be more clear on what your idea is?"

"Gladly," said Twilight. "The transformation spell operates in distinct stages. The first stage is the infection, or the casting of the spell, when the transformation magic is generated. This is followed by a dormant phase. Then in the third and final stage, the spell activates and starts drawing in magic. The spell has a sensing rune that detects when the ambient magic has reached a certain level, which is why the later cases are progressing faster, since there's more magic available. That rune could be jammed by generating enough thaumic 'noise' at the right resonance that it has trouble telling if there's enough magic available to start the transformation!"

Anthony leaned forward. "Let me see if I understand. Are you proposing to make use of the communications grid to stop new transformations from starting?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," said Twilight. "Yes, it's crude, and it may not work in every case or cover every affected area, but it will put a dent in Sunset's plans, extend the deadline, and give us more time to figure out how to get the counterspell to everyone."

"I'm certainly no expert in the field, but I don't think a typical cell phone tower is suitable for a wide-area broadcast-type transmission."

"Could radar be adapted for it?" Kevin suggested. "Meteorologists use it all the time. They're fairly ubiquitous."

Anthony turned to his laptop. "I'll make a note to set up a conference with the right experts."

"There's got to be a catch here," Starlight said.

"Just one," said Twilight in a more subdued voice. "In order to make this work, I need materials capable of conducting magic and holding an enchantment."

"Are there such materials on Earth?" Sandra asked.

"I'll have to do some experiments to find out. But if that doesn't work out, there is a source that will work, namely the gems and crystals that were left behind by the Equestrian explorers."

"Which Sunset has in her possession," Anthony deadpanned.

"Whoa, wait," said Starlight. "None of them could be any bigger than my hoof. Just how do you expect those dinky things to hold the kind of magic you're talking about?"

"This is going to require a very dense thaumic matrix," said Twilight. "I think I can apply what I've learned of Sunset's plasma research to cobble together something that will make them last longer. Not to mention if I can get the resonance precise enough, it doesn't have to be as strong."

"Can you explain this in simpler terms so I can make sure I know what you're talking about?" Anthony said.

"Think of it this way," said Twilight. "Say you were told to do something the moment you saw someone signal you from far away, say with a flash of light. I'm intending to block that light. You never see the signal, so you never do what it was you were told to do."

"And how do you propose to solve the problem of the magic artifacts you need?"

"I'm almost positive they're in Sunset's human home. I can find and retrieve them when I go to give her the confrontation she expects."

Anthony sighed and leaned back in his seat.

Starlight frowned. "Oh, you are not going to cite legal technicalities at us again!"

"I take it your search turned up nothing," said Twilight.

"Nothing we could see, but that was as you predicted," said Anthony.

"What about those genetic tests of Sunset?"

"Still in progress," said Sandra. "I hope to have the results by this afternoon."

Anthony cast an earnest look at Twilight. "While I've been advised that I can be more flexible where legal hurdles are concerned, we have to consider the risk to you. If we lose you, it's game over."

"I'm an alicorn, she's not," said Twilight. "I'm more inherently powerful than she'll ever be."

"Except there's your reluctance to use force," said Anthony. "That, in my view, is a liability that she can exploit."

Twilight took a deep breath which she let out as a shuddering sigh. She cast a forlorn gaze at Starlight. "I guess sometimes a brute force approach is the answer."

Starlight's mouth dropped open. "Twilight, you're not seriously considering--!"

Twilight turned to Anthony. "I need a location not too far from town that's relatively isolated. Someplace I can teleport myself and Sunset so that if it does come to blows, there will be less chance of anyone accidentally getting hurt."

Anthony tapped a finger on the table.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Okay, now what don't you like about this?"

"As much as it would be nice to get definitive proof of Sunset's identity, we again face the problem of Twilight being incapacitated."

"Starlight knows everything I do," said Twilight. "She can carry on in my stead."

"No, I can't," said Starlight.

"Of course you can!" Twilight said. "You're just as magically capable as I am."

"I don't mean that. I mean you're crazy if you think I'm going to let you confront Sunset alone."

"Starlight--"

"No, listen to me! You went on the other day about how I'm your ace-in-the-hole. Well, use it, dammit! I might be able to cast my unmarking spell on her to weaken her enough to do something with her." She paused and added in a softer voice. "And, um, I'm kinda used to you, you know? I don't want to risk losing you."

Twilight smiled, her eyes glistening. "Thank you, Starlight," she said softly.

Anthony glanced between them, hesitating as if reluctant to interrupt the moment. "Let's hold a separate meeting to discuss the logistics of such an operation. We have a potential plan on the table. Are there any other developments we need to know about?"

"I'm expecting to be contacted by the Arizona Department of Health later this morning," said Sandra in a subdued voice. "They discovered a statistical blip in the reported influenza cases. They think it's a data collection anomaly, but they want to follow up."

"Thank you," said Anthony. "If there's nothing else, meeting adjourned."





Kevin sat in an office that had been assigned to him not so much out of respect for his elevated status in the emergency zone staff, but because it was a place they were sure Sadie had not seen, thus reducing the chance of an unexpected visitation. Arrayed to his left were the latest medical reports on the Tanner family, while to the right were reports on pony anatomy compiled by the scientists on staff. Even though he could see much of it was guesswork, they still had more of a firm handle on how it all worked than he did.

Where now most of the Tanner family were in the end state, it made one thing clear: he was no longer qualified to treat them.

Kevin slipped off his reading glasses with a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He admitted to feeling a twinge of guilt; here were people losing their humanity, and he was lamenting over feeling obsolete. He had prided himself on keeping up to date with the latest medical discoveries and technology, but now it had taken not so much a great leap forward as sideways, challenging even what he thought he already knew.

Twilight had mentioned that cutie marks gave the ponies of Equestria a sense of purpose. He envied that, in a way. He imagined if he had been a denizen of that world, he'd have no worries about what he would do next. On the sliding scale of optimism versus pessimism, he was normally somewhere left of center: pragmatic but hopeful. These days, he was not so sure.

His head jerked towards the door when he heard a knock, and from both the cadence and location of the sound, he knew it to be a pony hoof. "Come in."

A Secret Service agent opened the door, glanced about the room for a moment, then stood aside to admit Twilight. Kevin smiled faintly as he said, "Enjoying your new entourage?"

Twilight rolled her eyes as the door closed behind her, but she managed to return the smile. "This is worse than the pomp that surrounds the nobles in Canterlot back home."

Kevin turned to face her, folding his hands in his lap. "At least it's respectful of your status as a diplomat."

"I do admit, I wish it were more based on trust than desperation. As far as I know, the general public is not even aware of me yet."

"Probably to avoid more panic," said Kevin. "The idea of aliens secretly living among us or having visited Earth in the past enjoys almost a cult status."

"Still, I look forward to when I can open formal relations with humanity," said Twilight. "I was told you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I wanted to broach a topic that we had only barely touched on in the heat of the moment," said Kevin. "I'm not even sure Mr. Heller is placing a high priority on it right now except as a means of combating ETS."

"I think I know what this is about," Twilight said softly. "Your ability to passively channel magic."

"That's part of it, anyway."

"If you're wondering if it can be developed further, that's not something I can answer right now," said Twilight. "We believe we know how ponies acquired magic, and there are some similarities here, but in terms of developing real magical ability, it's impossible to estimate how long or how much."

"I suppose I'm considering it more in the bigger picture," said Kevin. "According to Starlight, Star Singer had indicated something about a magical awakening."

"I know, but it could be hyperbole. There's no way to know right now whether this is a one-off or not. Even if the other people with mutations show evidence of passive magic use, it might not mean anything. It's hard to tell."

Kevin cast a forlorn look at the medical records. "It was worth a shot, anyway."

"I'm sorry?"

Kevin gave her a wan smile. "Just feeling a bit inadequate at the moment. I occasionally wish I had not been immune so I could better relate to my former patients."

Twilight sighed. "I had this conversation with someone who was reluctant to accept the counterspell. She thought being a pony would solve all her problems."

"Oh, I'm under no such illusions, Twilight," said Kevin. "And despite my odd musings, I have no desire to become something other than human. This crisis has simply reopened some old emotional wounds that I had fooled myself into thinking were healed." He paused. "Do you have any sort of affliction similar to cancer on your world? Or any afflictions which are very hard to cure?"

"A few," said Twilight. "They're rare, but always devastating when they happen. I'm sorry if you had to go through something like that or see a loved one go through it."

"The latter," said Kevin in an even voice. "My wife."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not so much her loss as my attitude towards it, which I know is wholly unhealthy, but I find it hard to turn loose off."

Twilight considered. "If you don't mind me giving you some advice ..."

"Please, do," said Kevin in a slightly quavering voice. "I'm frankly at a loss."

"Talk to Starlight," said Twilight. "I won't tell you the details, as that's for her to reveal, but I will say she's still struggling with similar issues. The circumstances are very different, but the emotions aren't."

Kevin chuckled weakly. "And here I was just saying how much humans and ponies are alike. Perhaps in more ways than I thought."

"If it helps any, Kevin, I do sometimes have my own bouts with feeling inadequate. When I was under the tutelage of Princess Celestia, I constantly worried if I was good enough despite my mentor's praise."

Kevin stroked his beard. "Wasn't that the same name of the ruler when your kind last visited this world?"

"She's the same pony. As far as anyone can tell, she's immortal."

Before Kevin could further comment, a staccato knock came at the door, and Sandra burst in before he could respond. "I just heard back from the Arizona Department of Health. We may have just had a major break."

"What is it?" Kevin said.

"They found out that the incident of lower flu infection rates was not an error," said Sandra, her voice tinged with excitement. "They discovered a pocket of immunity."

"Where?"

"Right inside an Indian Reservation."

Kevin's eyes widened.

"We're in the process of negotiations with their Tribal Council to allow us to conduct genetic tests."

"I don't understand," said Twilight. "What's an Indian Reservation?"

"It's a long story, but suffice it to say--" Sandra began.

"Which tribe?" Kevin suddenly demanded.

"I'm sorry?" Sandra said.

"Which tribe was it?"

Sandra quickly opened her folder, her eyes scanning down the page. "Hopi."

"Sandra, my great grandmother was a Hopi."

"That could be significant!" Sandra said. "If the immunity is hereditary and can be passed on to future generations, that represents a possibility of creating resistance to any future outbreaks of--"

"Wait, please, you're going too fast for me," said Twilight.

"My apologies, Twilight," said Sandra. "When this continent was first colonized, the natives of this land where pushed out and eventually confined to small areas called reservations. It wasn't exactly our proudest accomplishment, to say the least. Apparently, one tribe of these Native Americans is showing a common immunity to--"

"Native Americans?" Twilight said. "That's the same term that was applied to the people the last Equestrian exploration team met. Are they the same?"

"Well, the term is the same," said Sandra.

"More so than you think," said Kevin. "You might want to confirm this with Doctor Tanner -- if she's in the presence of mind to do so -- but I believe the Hopi are direct descendants of the Anasazi."

Twilight's pupils suddenly shrank.

"Is something the matter?"

Twilight swallowed hard. "I, uh, think this is a good development, especially in the long term. Let me confer with Starlight and get her take on this. I'll check back with you later."

She rushed out before anyone could say a word.

Kevin stood and glanced at the door as it closed behind her. "Something just spooked her."

Sandra turned to him. "Are you sure?"

"Let's just say I've been learning that ponies and humans are more alike than perhaps people realize."





Starlight discovered that she rather liked the whiteboards that the humans had invented, once she got used to the rather odoriferous ink that the markers used. She had always hated blackboards, as her mane seemed like a magnet for chalk dust no matter what she did.

She stepped back and examined the runes she had drawn. They represented the unmarking spell she had once thought she never wanted to even think about again considering all the grief it had caused her. While it was already rather potent, she wondered if there were a way to boost its strength further, considering that the target was a pony who was once considered a candidate for Ascension on accomplishments alone. While she realized she had used it successfully on an alicorn no less, she was going up against a pony who likely had done nearly as much research into cutie marks as she had in order to attain a completely successful transformation.

Starlight glanced behind her when she heard the door open. "Oh, good timing, Twilight. I just heard that there's been another group of complete transformations. That's almost the whole town. If Sunset is going to try something to impart some sort of vision on them, she--"

Twilight rushed up to her. "Starlight, we have a huge problem!"

Starlight paused. "Uhhh, you mean other than an entire race being mass-ponified by your mad scientist aunt?"

"This may go even deeper than that!" Twilight paused. "Wait, did you say 'ponified'?"

Starlight set aside the marker. "Yeah, someone came up with that term on the internet. I swear, humans really love to put labels on things."

"Never mind that," Twilight said. "I need to tell you something I just found out."

Starlight listened as Twilight explained about the immunity found among the Hopi Tribe and their relation to the ancient people that Equestria had contacted. "Um, okay, so?"

"Don't you see the implication here?!" Twilight cried. "Star Singer mentioned something about humanity's magical awakening. At first I thought maybe she was exaggerating in hopes of convincing Sunset to relent, but what if she wasn't?"

"I'm sorry, Twilight, I'm not following you."

"Magic developed in our species about a thousand years or so after sapience," said Twilight. "It's believed to be a natural development after constant exposure to a thaumic energy field over successive generations. It started just as we saw in Kevin, with the ability to passively channel magic."

Starlight slowly nodded. "Okay, I get you so far."

"But now we have humanity, which has a civilization that's been around for about six thousand years, and they were potentially sapient long before that, yet at no time did they show any sort of ability to use magic. That could mean they have something inherent in their makeup that prevents it. I kept wondering, what would cause it to suddenly appear now?"

Starlight thought on it for a long moment, and her eyes gradually widened. "You're not saying that Equestria's contact seven hundred years ago--"

"--may have somehow caused this inherent change in humanity that was passed down to the present day!"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit of a stretch, though? We really don't know every detail of what that exploration team did."

"But we do know that they made unauthorized contact with the natives," said Twilight. "What if that had some sort of consequences, either intentional or not?"

"Didn't you say that exposure to magic wasn't harmful to humans?" said Starlight. "You even proved it with all the spells you've been casting on or around them."

"At least as far as I know, yes."

"So I'm not sure this is something you need to worry about."

Twilight's eyes glistened. "Starlight, if Equestria is at all responsible for humans discovering magic in a world that was not intended to have magic--"

"Whoa, wait!" said Starlight. "Not intended to have magic?"

Twilight started to pace. "I've been thinking a lot on what you got from Star Singer concerning her vision. Considering that it sent her into a healing trance, I had to ask myself, what would be the absolute worst possible monster that a magic pony society could face?" Twilight stopped and faced Starlight. "And the answer I came up with is: Tirek."

"Tirek is in Tartarus back in our world," said Starlight. "And you personally improved the security of the entrance so we don't have to rely on a temperamental three-headed dog to guard it."

"I don't mean that it's him specifically, but what if it were a creature similar to him?"

Starlight rubbed her mane with her hoof. "I have to admit, I did wonder how Sunset would think that her plans to give ponies more magic would stand up against him."

"I read Sunset's analysis of Tirek in those pages she left for me," said Twilight. "Apparently, even Tirek had a limit as to how much magic he could absorb before he became unstable. It was simply greater than what Equestria could provide. Also, there was something about Harmony magic that he couldn't absorb."

"Well, there you go," said Starlight.

"Starlight, Harmony magic comes from one source: the Tree of Harmony. Maybe something similar could develop here given time, but remember the second part of what you read."

"Yeah, she said 'all the magic rainbows in creation won't stop it.' You really think that means a threat not even Harmony magic can defeat?"

"It's certainly possible. Harmony is just another form of magic, we just don't know quite everything about it yet. Discord's plunder seeds proved that even the Tree itself is not invulnerable. For all we know, Tirek could adapt himself to feed on that as well if given the chance."

"All right, let me get this straight," said Starlight. "You believe that Star Singer saw a vision of some sort of magic-eating monster?"

"I know it's not the only possibility, but if that is the case, it would explain why there don't appear to be magical civilizations in this universe."

"Hoo boy," Starlight said with a sigh. "Sunset really screwed things up, didn't she?"

"It's bigger than that!" Twilight said. "Even if we fix the damage that Sunset has done, humanity may face the problem anyway if they develop magic all on their own. And it might be Equestria's fault!"

Starlight placed a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. "Okay, Twilight, take a step back. You might be getting yourself worked up over nothing,"

"Starlight, the humans are a very clever people. They'll piece this together themselves. Kevin already suggested consulting with Sarah. It's bad enough that one of our kind is interfering with the present. What if they come to believe that an officially sanctioned exploration team from our world altered their ancestors?"

Starlight frowned. "I would think they'd be happy about it, considering it gave them an immunity to Sunset's virus!"

"But now they're talking about distributing this as some sort of inoculation against it, and I even offered to help. That would only hasten humanity's magical evolution, which may be exactly what we don't want." Twilight sighed. "I really wish Star Singer would come out of her trance so we can talk to her about this and confirm exactly what it was she saw."

"In the meantime, we need to keep focused on dealing with Sunset," said Starlight.

"Yes, but shouldn't I tell the humans what I just discovered?"

"If it were me, I wouldn't bother. Why risk getting them upset over something that might not even be true?"

"I just want to be open and honest with them."

"There's being honest, and there's being alarmist," said Starlight. "And the humans are upset enough as it is. Wait until we make some more headway first and the pressure is off."

Twilight took a deep breath. "I suppose you're right," she said in a more calm voice. She turned towards the whiteboard. "You've been working on your unmarking spell?"

Starlight approached the board. "Yes, and I think I'm close to giving it another boost. I figured you would get Sunset talking, and once she was distracted, I could zap her with this spell. It should weaken her long enough."

"Yes, but long enough for what?" said Twilight.

Starlight turned to her. "Just restrain her somehow. So long as I keep her away from her cutie mark, she shouldn't have all that much magical power. All we really need is to keep her out of the picture long enough for us to broadcast your thaumic jamming thing and figure out a way to mass-cast the counterspell."

"Yet you said that you can't sever the connection completely, and I'm not sure we can find the proper materials to isolate her cutie mark without you having to constantly hold onto it. Even the containers you used were heavily enchanted, and I'm not sure we can find the proper material here."

"Then how about this," said Starlight. "Figure out how to unlock the portal and shove her through. Let Princess Celestia deal with her. That way she ceases to be a threat, and we get the added bonus of having control of her portal."

Twilight stared at the whiteboard for a long moment. "That might be our best option. I don't like surprising Celestia like that, but I think she would understand." She turned to Starlight. "Now we just have to hope Mr. Heller understands."





Anthony sat quietly for a few moments after hearing Twilight's plans, his fingers laced before him. He finally leaned back in his seat slightly and said, "I need to make something very clear, Twilight. While we are according you as much leeway as possible as diplomats from another world, there are limits to what we can do in the absence of any formal treaties between us."

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Yeah, why am I not surprised."

"Starlight, please," Twilight said softly before looking over to Anthony. "Mr. Heller, Sunset represents an ongoing threat to your world. Removing that threat is of paramount importance."

"I understand, and I do agree with you," said Anthony. "I simply don't agree with spiriting her out of the country -- and out of this universe -- as you propose."

"I want to do what's simplest and most expedient," said Twilight. "My world is better able to handle her, with or without her cutie mark. Our ruler, Princess Celestia, is far more powerful than any pony and can easily keep Sunset confined in some way so she doesn't try to return."

"I think you're missing an important point," said Anthony. "Removing her from this world would be seen as removing her from justice."

"I can assure you, Mr. Heller, she will not go unpunished for her actions. Princess Celestia does not in any way condone what she has done."

"Even if I'm willing to take your word for it, there are others who won't. The President has been in discussions with other world leaders, and already the word 'genocide' is being heard."

Twilight swallowed hard.

"If you wish to educate yourself on how we view such things, I would strongly suggest searching the internet for such terms as 'Nazism,' 'Holocaust,' and 'Nuremberg Trials.'"

Twilight's eyes glistened. She could present all sorts of arguments as to how the situation was likely different than simply exterminating a population, but ultimately she knew it would be a wasted effort. Humans had to decide for themselves how they wanted to view Sunset's actions, and she had no place in arguing otherwise.

Even if it meant handing over a family member to an alien world's harsh justice.

"All right," Twilight said in a low voice. "What would you propose instead, Mr. Heller?"

"If the goal is to keep Sunset subdued so she can't interfere with stopping ETS and the subsequent recovery operations, could that be accomplished by keeping Sunset sedated while she's vulnerable? Or are magical ponies immune to such things?"

Twilight let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "Well, that's better than what I thought you might suggest."

"The free world values such things as a proper trial," said Anthony. "Granted, the situation here is special in that we have no conventional means to incarcerate her, but it's important to us to live up to our ideals as much as possible so long as any of us are still human."

"I apologize for thinking otherwise."

"I will openly admit that our society is likely more violent than yours," said Anthony in a softer voice. "We've made strides over the centuries to curb that tendency, but many people see what Sunset is doing as robbing us of the ability to determine our own destiny."

"In that, I agree," said Twilight. "And to answer your question, it would be possible to sedate a pony, but without a magical component, it wouldn't last long."

"Can you provide that component?"

"It's not something I've done before," said Twilight. "I don't have a medical background. I can try, but I can't guarantee how well it will work."

"Would Star Singer have that knowledge?" Starlight asked.

"Her background is more general biology than medical," said Twilight. "But given that she was originally focused on similar goals, she might have the proper knowledge of pony physiology. I'm just not sure we can wait for her to come out of her healing trance."

"Did you have any specific time you wanted to do this?" Anthony asked.

"I wanted to wait until the morning after Sunset makes her move concerning the night ponies," said Twilight. "Where Sunset has effectively infiltrated one of the shelters, she'll likely be distracted encouraging the others in how to interpret whatever vision she gives them. She won't be able to just teleport out right away, giving me more time to investigate her home."

"We can place an agent among the medical staff," said Anthony. "He can keep us apprised of Miss Sommers' movements and help determine the optimum time. I would also like to suggest the location where you will take her to."

"What would be that be?"

"There is an entrance to an old silver mine a few miles north of town," said Anthony. "It has the benefit of several structures nearby where we can hide recording equipment so you don't have to carry it on your person. That should reduce the chance of her discovering the ruse."

"If I can be shown detailed pictures of that area, that should work," Twilight said. "So let me summarize what we're going to do: I'll investigate her house and set up a teleportation trap. As soon as she arrives, I take her to the location. I get her talking enough so she reveals her identity, then Starlight hits her with her unmarking spell to weaken her long enough to be sedated. Then Starlight will hold onto Sunset's cutie mark long enough for me to figure out how to unlock her portal and procure proper materials to contain her cutie mark indefinitely."

Starlight sighed. "There's an awful lot that can go wrong, Twilight."

"I know, but I can't think of a better plan that keeps Sunset on Earth," said Twilight.

"I'll start the preparations at my end," said Anthony as he stood. "So we can be ready to go when you give the word."

"Thank you," Twilight said in a barely audible voice.

Starlight watched Anthony leave before turning to Twilight. "You okay?"

Twilight sighed. "This is exactly what I had hoped to avoid: a direct confrontation with Sunset."

"I, uh, noticed you haven't been referring to her as your aunt much anymore."

Twilight hopped out of her chair. "I'm finding it harder to believe she was ever family, Starlight. I know that's harsh, maybe unfair, but it's the only way I can remain objective about this."

Starlight left her chair and faced her friend. "It's no more strange than me feeling a little sorry for Sunset. If the humans have anything to say about it, she's never going to get a chance to actually understand what she did wrong and reform herself like I did."

"When we have Sunset subdued, and I have the portal unlocked, I'll need to immediately send off a message," said Twilight. "I need Celestia's advice concerning Sunset."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Whether to leave her to the humans' justice system or not."

"I thought you just--"

"I had to placate Mr. Heller so we could agree on a plan," said Twilight. "But I can't make the final decision, only Celestia can. If she refuses to allow Sunset to be tried in a human court, I'll have to take her back to Equestria, which means shattering the already delicate trust that the humans have placed in us." She cast a shimmering gaze at Starlight. "But there's something I fear more than any possible outcome."

"What's that?" Starlight asked.

"Being told I have to make the decision myself."
> Chapter 39 - Reunion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The peasant girl stands among the trodden flowers and the flattened grass. She has no words for the scene of devastation. Broken splinters and a large hole in the ground are all that remain of a once proud mansion. Perhaps to the lord of this manor, it was not considered a mansion, but to someone of the peasant girl's pedigree, it was palatial.

Lingering breezes tug at her threadbare skirt, and thunder rumbles in the distance as the storm that executed the savage wrath of the Fae Queen fades into the distance. Despite the storm's passing, the danger was still ever-present. The Fae Queen herself stood nearby, not a stone's throw away.

The Queen stands absolutely still. She stares at the devastation as if she herself cannot believe what has been wrought. The peasant girl's heart hammers, and all she can do is repeat the same thought in her head over and over, the same forbidden knowledge which seeks escape from her lips despite knowing full well the risks.

"I know your secret."

The Fae Queen turns towards the girl, but the gasp the girl gives is half-hearted at best. Etched into the Fae Queen's face is worry and regret, something quite unexpected. "There is no secret," the Queen states. "Only a mistake."

"But I've seen it."

The Fae Queen suddenly smiles. No, this is not what the peasant girl expects at all. "You don't have to see it."

"I can only see, I cannot unsee."

"But all things are possible with me, little girl."

The peasant girl realizes she should know this. Of course, all things are possible where the Fae are concerned. As the Fae Queen approaches, the girl feels the magic wash over her, like a pleasant warmth. She feels it change her like it did so many of the Queen's subjects. Past concerns fade away, and new ones take their place. With a small whimper, the peasant girl falls to the ground when her senses begin to fail her.

"Forget," the Fae Queen whispers.

"Forget ..." the little girl intones, her eyelids suddenly very heavy.

"And forgive the weather wizard for her failure."

"F-forgive ..." the peasant girls says with barely a breath as her eyes close and her morphing body grows still ...





Jenny awoke with a jerk.

She blinked rapidly and had to remind herself she was still in the shelter, as that was the first full night's rest she had since arriving. She tried to hold on to the dream, but it slipped away as she became more alert.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes with the back of a fore-hoof, and only as she was lowering the appendage did she realize what she had seen. She stared at it for another moment before slowly placing it on the floor, her now fully wakeful brain imparting its wisdom that she was in a perfectly normal form. Her tail swished around her haunches before she rose to all four hooves with only a momentary lack of grace until her new mental wiring asserted itself.

Jenny looked around. Color exploded about her, the already bright hues of her fellow ponies now slightly more saturated. Neither wings nor horn had ever appeared upon her, but that seemed right as well. She didn't desire either one, as it was not meant to be part of her, certainly not unless the Fae Queen had decreed it.

Why would she be thinking of her fantasies at a time like this? Had she not slipped into an ongoing one? No, that made no sense, either. She was an earth pony filly because that's what she was supposed to be. To think it was a fantasy was to think it shouldn't be happening.

"Jenny, are you all right?"

Jenny had started to turn around just before she heard her name, a familiar scent already making her curious. Her gaze fell on the orange-furred unicorn mare whom she already knew was her mother. "Yeah, I think so," said Jenny in a slightly bemused voice.

Sarah stepped up to her, hooves clopping against the floor. "I heard you whimpering in your sleep a little while ago."

"I was?"

"Did you have some sort of nightmare?"

"I can't remember what I was dreaming about," said Jenny. "Sorry if I worried you."

Sarah looked around. "I'm just glad this is finally over. Maybe they'll let us reunite with your father now." She sighed. "And I still want to see Laura."

Jenny stared at her mother. Her mother was a pony, just like her. No, they hadn't always been that way, but she struggled to think why that should matter. Why would she want to question something that simply was? She might as well question why the sky was blue; it had an answer, but it didn't matter in the long run. The sky would still remain blue.

Jenny's gaze rose to her mother's head. "Have you tried it yet?"

Sarah turned her gaze back to her daughter. "I'm sorry?"

"Your horn," Jenny said with a small smile. "Have you tried it?"

Sarah hesitated. "Not yet."

Jenny glanced around and found the paperback novel she had been reading. She nudged it towards her mother with her fore-hoof. "Here, try it on this."

"I'm not sure I should. Nopony else has yet."

"Then be the first! I'll bet you anything that Laura was the first to try her wings."

"This isn't a competition, Jenny."

"No, it's what we are," said Jenny in a softer voice.

Jenny had never quite envisioned unicorns in her fantasies as having this sort of magic, but that could be proof that this reality was correct. Of course it wouldn't align perfectly with her made-up imagery, because she had no real foreknowledge that this was going to happen.

James' words came back to her again, but she pushed them aside when she saw Sarah looking down at the book with a mix of trepidation and longing. Jenny smirked and turned to some nearby ponies. "Hey, who wants to see my Mom try to use her horn?"

Sarah face-hoofed. "Jenny!"

"I do!" cried another unicorn.

"Yeah, do it!" said a pegasus.

Jenny grinned. "Three votes for, none against."

"I'm against it," said Sarah, but her conviction was weak.

"You might as well be against walking or breathing," said Jenny.

Sarah stared at Jenny for another moment, then glanced at the others before looking down at the book. She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on it. Slowly, a faint glow suffused her horn, and a few seconds later, a similar one cocooned the book. Sarah's breath quickened as she concentrated harder, and the glow brightened. The book jerked and twitched before rising an inch, then fell with a faint thump.

"I did it!" Sarah cried. "I actually moved it! I mean, not much, but--"

As nearby ponies cheered, Jenny threw her forelegs around Sarah. Things were as they should be. It would help silence any remaining nagging doubts in the back of her mind. "Things are going to be okay now, Mom. They have to be."

A slightly dazed Sarah hugged her back. "I hope so. I really hope so."





Laura had discovered to her delight how flexible her neck was, which helped in matters of personal hygiene. She could easily reach much of her own body with something held in her teeth, though manipulating shower controls designed for hands was still a challenge. The humans tending them assisted with this, though several unicorns had already tried using their horns instead. This went fairly well until Kelly accidentally broke off the knob, causing water to jet from the wall. This had amused her fellow ponies far more than it had the humans.

Despite her self-reliance, she found the simple act of being tended to by a friend to be rather comforting. Thus she and Emma helped brush out each other's mane, tail, and coat, as well as preen each other's wings. "You've got a broken feather on your right wing, but I'm not sure it's ready to come out," said Emma.

Laura swept the brush in her teeth a few more times over Emma's tail before she set it down to respond. "Want to ask Joan about it?"

"Yeah, I think that would be a good idea."

"Did I hear my name?" came a bright voice to the side.

Laura turned and smiled as she saw Joan winging her way over to them, landing smoothly without breaking stride, folding her wings against her sides in a single smooth motion.

Emma stepped back from Laura. "We wanted your opinion on this." Emma pointed to a bent feather in Laura's right wing with a fore-hoof. "This one."

Joan stepped up. "Hmm. I could go either way. If it's not causing any discomfort, I'd just as soon leave it in."

Laura folded her wing. "Then I think we're done." She smiled. "You want to hear something funny? When this was first happening to me, I worried about how I was going to deal with all this hair and feathers on top of it. I thought I'd have to spend an entire morning just tending it."

Emma grinned. "I guess you didn't think you'd have somepony to help you with it."

"Hey, speaking of keeping clean and all that," said Joan. "Am I the only one who thinks the water tastes kinda funny now?"

"It has a funny smell, too," said Emma. "I know some of it is just the mineral content that Colorado water tends to have, but there's something else off about it."

"Maybe some other kind of contamination?" Laura suggested. "They can purify water only so much."

"Rainwater would be more pure, right?"

"I think it would depend on what it picked up from the air on the way down," said Joan.

"But Emma's right, it would be more pure when it started," said Laura.

"Wouldn't the clouds have the same pollutants or whatnot that the atmosphere does?"

"Not if you made the clouds correctly in the first place," said Laura.

Emma giggled. "Made the clouds?"

"Well, yes," said Laura. "Then it would be as pure as you can ... um ..."

"Make the clouds," Joan said softly.

Emma stopped giggling. "Why doesn't that seem so strange an idea anymore?"

"It's not!" Joan cried. "We've been puzzling over what else we can do. What if this is it?"

Laura's eyes widened. "But making clouds would mean we could ... w-we could ..."

"Control the weather," Emma said in an awed voice. "That ... that would be amazing if it's true."

Laura's eyes glistened as she stood absolutely still, utterly thunderstruck.

Laura had known of Jenny's story about the failed apprentice of the weather wizard, having heard it indirectly via her Aunt Eileen. During that terrible storm, Laura had screamed herself hoarse at the tempest as if in hopes that would somehow make it go away or at least spare them.

It and the aftermath had proven just how powerless she had been. Now she dared to contemplate that she actually had that power. The fear she had harbored towards bad weather of any type now seemed silly.

Emma draped a fore-leg around Laura's barrel. "Laura, you all right?"

Laura nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of a hoof. "Sorry, I was just thinking, i-if I had this back when Jenny was little ..."

Emma drew her into a hug.

"Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself again," Laura said.

"But as I said before, Laura," said a familiar voice as it approached. "You have to start somewhere."

Laura broke off the hug and smiled widely as she turned towards the voice. "Sunny, you really think I could do something like that? Actually stop a storm?"

Sadie smiled as she stepped up to Laura. "Well, I wouldn't advocate jumping into a tornado anytime soon, but it's like what you've said all along: you had a feeling that you could do some amazing things."

Joan looked pensive for a long moment. "I want to try this. I mean, not a storm or something like that, but I feel like I could at least work out the basics."

"I know what you mean!" said Emma excitedly as she leaped into the air and hovered in place. "Now that I've been thinking about it, I may know how to create a small cloud!"

"But they're still not letting us outside," said Laura.

"Who needs outside?" Emma said. "Remember that mishap Kelly had with the shower? It took them forever to shut off the water. This whole place feels really humid now. I'll bet you anything there's enough moisture to squeeze out of the air for at least a tiny cloud."

Laura looked up. She could feel it herself. She had a sense for the atmosphere -- even that confined to the microcosm of the auditorium -- that felt almost instinctual. She extended her wings, and they tingled with a power that she had failed to understand before but now suddenly became very clear. Manipulating weather wasn't a matter of using hooves and wings in a certain way, it was more basic than that. It was application of will.

Joan was hovering now as well, and she smiled at Laura. "So, do we try it?"

"I want to," Emma said. "I really want to."

Laura glanced at Sadie.

"This is up to you, Laura," Sadie said. "All I'll tell you is: you don't know exactly what you can do until you try."

Laura took a deep breath. She knew the moment they started, their human caretakers would have a fit. She was well aware that the National Guard soldiers had tasers, but would they really risk a pegaus falling out of the sky and hurting herself?

Yet at the same time, agitation was running high among her fellow ponies. Negotiation had gotten them only so far. They were still being denied the right to do what came natural to them. Maybe this would finally convince them that they needed to give them more freedom. The quarantine had no purpose anymore. They were all perfectly healthy ponies.

Too much of her life had been defined first around her guilt over Jenny, and then her disruptive transformation. Now she had a chance to take control of her life back. She could choose to be who and what she wanted.

"All right," said Laura in a determined voice. "Let's do it."





Fred entered the shelter with a small degree of trepidation despite all his attempts to treat this like any other mission back in Afghanistan. The moment he laid eyes on so many ponies, he felt a kinship to them that made his heart ache. He again regretted all those lost years, when he could have at least been making friends in town and wouldn't feel like such an outcast.

The good news was that he didn't have to worry about somehow recognizing Sunset Shimmer. He had been told that there were plans to let the genders mix once all transformations were completed, but obviously that had not yet happened. All he could see -- and smell -- were stallions. The only wisps of mare came from the direction of the cubicle-like wall that had been erected down the center of the auditorium.

Fred heard the clop of hooves approaching him, but it wasn't until he heard a cheerful "Hello there!" did he turn around. He gazed at another earth pony stallion, one with a blue-gray coat and a very light green mane with a streak of white through it. The eyes were bright cyan.

"Um, hi," said Fred.

"I don't remember seeing you before."

Fred recognized the voice. He swore he almost recognized the smell as well. "You're, uh, Chris, the guy who runs the grocery store on Elm."

The stallion smiled. "Yeah, that's me. You seem familiar as well, but ..." He trailed off, and his eyes widened. "Fred Turner??"

Fred had considered going under an alias, but he was glad he didn't try. Voices hadn't been modified by this transformation, and he figured Chris relied as much on smell as now Fred seemed to. "Yeah, I'm Fred."

"Wow, I, um, hadn't expected to see you," said Chris. "Rumor is that you were the first pony."

"I was," said Fred. "Apparently I caused it to spread to you and whoever was in the store that day I was sick."

Chris nodded, then tilted his head, his ears swiveling.

"Something the matter?" Fred asked.

"You're not exactly ... what I mean to say, you're not ... er ..."

"Crazy?" said Fred with a small smirk. "Amazing what becoming a pony does to you."

"Fred, I'm really glad it worked out," said Chris in a sincere voice. "I always felt a little sorry for you, and--"

"Don't," Fred declared. "It's a long story what happened to me, but it doesn't matter anymore. I finally got my head screwed on straight, and that's all I care about."

"It's helped me, too," said Chris. "Had a hip injury that never healed properly."

"Yeah, I remember now. You used to limp when the weather got really hot and humid."

Chris turned around once. "Not anymore! And it would be bothering me now, because it's practically sodden in here."

"I noticed that," said Fred. "Somepony got a humidifier on overdrive or something?"

"Accident in the mares' shower." Chris chuckled. "A unicorn accidentally broke a pipe or something is what we heard 'over the wall' so to speak."

Fred looked at the wall. "Yeah, what's with that stupid wall, anyway? They think we're going to go on a frenzied mating spree or something?"

Chris laughed. "Good lord, I hope not! Putting two kids through college is enough for me, thank you. I don't need any more foals."

Fred looked back to him. "You put those kids through school from what you earned from the store, right?"

"Indeed, yes."

"You think you're going to go back to that?"

Chris hesitated. "I'm actually not sure what I'm going to do yet, to be honest."

"It looks to me like a lot of us don't have a purpose anymore."

"But obviously there has to be a point to all this," said Chris. "It's just a matter of finding out what it is, isn't it?"

Was this what Twilight was worried about? Were all of them waiting for somepony to tell them what they were supposed to do next? He looked around and saw other ponies apparently delighting in practicing their new abilities. That was all well and good; Fred ached to test his own limits, but what purpose did all that serve?

Fred turned to face Chris eye-to-eye. "So you think somepony is going to swoop down and tell you what your new purpose is, is that it?"

"Well, not necessarily in so many words," said Chris. "But some sort of pointer would be nice. I mean, come on, it's obvious everything we had in our old life is not suited for ponies. We've already left one life behind, so obviously we--"

"You keep using that word a lot," said Fred. "In my experience, nothing is ever obvious. We may be ponies, but snake oil is still snake oil."

Chris' ears drew back slightly. "Just what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, don't latch on to the first thing you see just because you have nothing else."

"Well, I'm not. I mean, my priority is my family. Whatever I do, it has to benefit them somehow."

Fred nodded. "That's better. Keep sight of that. Don't let anypony tell you otherwise."

While they had been talking, a ruckus had risen around them, and it exploded into shouts expressing everything from alarm to encouragement.

"What the hell?!" Fred cried.

Chris gasped and jabbed a fore-hoof in the air. "Look!"

Fred lifted his head, and his eyes widened. Three pegasus mares flew in a circle overhead, much to the consternation of their human caretakers. Their shouts were drowned out by the whoops and hoof-stomps of other pegasi.

The air around Fred felt faintly electrified, and a breeze ruffled his fur and mane. At once the air became decidedly drier, and a faint mist collected just above his head and rose further.

"Laura, it's working!" came the delighted cry of the mare with the tri-colored mane.

"I can feel it, too!" cried the white-furred pegasus.

"Yes, I think we're doing it!' said the pegasus with yellow fur and orange hair.

Fred recognized that voice. That was Laura Tanner. She had been in the grocery store that day as well. His ears drooped when he remembered how he had frightened Laura's little sister Jenny and her boyfriend. He sorely wished his lucidity had come back to him before that day.

His attention soon became focused on the main event. The mist had risen and concentrated itself in the center of the whirling winged ponies. At first it resisted their efforts, roiling and rippling as if in a primal need to free itself from their control.

"Ugh, we almost had it," said the one with the tri-colored mane as all three came to a stop and hovered.

"Don't give up yet, Emma!" Laura cried.

"But it needs to be concentrated more, right?" said the white-furred one.

"How do we do that?" Emma asked.

"Girls, we're overthinking it," Laura said. "I think we just do this ..."

She flew forward, her fore-hooves pointed towards the wispy fog of moisture. By all rights and everything Fred had ever known about physics, her hooves should have just slipped on through. Instead, they found purchase, and Fred was not at all surprised. Her companions gasped and surged forward as well, and together they squeezed the mist into a tiny, puffy cloud.

"We did it, we actually did it!" Emma shouted. "That was so amazing!"

Fred was startled by a loud cry from his side of the wall. "Joan, that was incredible!" He turned towards the sound and saw a chocolate brown earth pony with a caramel colored mane and tail looking up and smiling widely.

The white-furred pegasus turned in the air and waved a fore-hoof frantically. "Frank, yes, it was great, wasn't it?"

As another round of cheering rose, a voice blared out so loudly over a megaphone that Fred drew his ears back and winced. "YOU WILL ALL COME DOWN AT ONCE OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO TRANQUILIZE YOU!"

Joan was the first to swoop down from the air and into the waiting fore-legs of the brown earth stallion. They hugged each other tightly, even as a technician came rushing over and shouted, "You're not supposed to be here!"

Joan broke off her embrace and snapped, "Well, you wanted me back on the ground. Make up your mind!"

"You're supposed to be with the other women."

"Oh, this is just stupid. I'm not leaving my husband, and that's it!"

Before the technician could protest, Emma winged her way over the wall. "Dad! Dad, did you see me?!"

A smiling unicorn stepped out of the crowd and hugged her as she landed. "I did, Emma. You were great."

The technician let out an exasperated sigh. "Please, everyone, return to your proper side of the--"

"The hell with that!" a pegasus stallion said as he snapped out his wings. "You're not keeping me from my sister any more!"

"Wait, please!" the technician cried, but the pegaus ignored him and flew over the wall to a joyous female cry on the other side.

A unicorn approached a section of the wall. "Hey, Stan, c'mere and help me with this. I think we can work the pins loose holding this sucker together."

"You got it!" said another unicorn as he cantered up.

"I'll repeat what I said before," the technician declared. "We'll start tranquilizing you if you don't--"

"What, you gonna do that to all of us, huh?" said an earth pony.

"Yeah, I'd love to see you try that!" said a hovering pegasus.

"We're not your damn prisoners!" said a unicorn.

Fred glanced over to the front of the room. About a dozen National Guard soldiers had entered the room, their tasers drawn and ready. This was going to escalate into a human-on-pony brawl if something wasn't done to stop it. He supposed this was where his leadership skills would come in handy.

Yet before he had taken a step and could open his mouth to speak, Laura landed hard in their midst. "Wait, please! There's no need for a confrontation."

Several of the ponies exchanged looks. By now, more female pegasi had come over the wall, and many were looking to Laura expectantly. The males were slower to come around, but as if heeding some unheard cue, they also fell into silent solidarity.

Fred raised an eyebrow. They already had a leader?

"If anypony is to blame for this, it's me," said Laura in a soft voice. "I just wanted to figure out what we can actually do. Maybe you don't want to let us outside yet, but at least give us this. Let us reunite with our families."

Fred blinked when a droplet struck his eye. The cloud the mares had created had drifted over them. While it was losing cohesion even as he watched, it was actually sprinkling rain which pattered softly against the floor in the ensuing silence.

The technician took a deep breath. "We're doing everything in our power to accommodate you. We just need some cooperation."

Laura considered, glancing at the others.

Fred stepped forward. "Want my take on this?"

Laura's gaze snapped to him, and her pupils shrank slightly.

"I think we need a little more democracy here," said Fred. "Last I heard, that actually counted for something in America. Show of hooves. Who wants this damn wall down?"

Every pony raised a hoof. Several pegasus mares flying above the other side of the room raised theirs. "Every hoof is up on this side!" one said.

"And several hands!" came a shout.

Laura smiled at Fred before turning to the technician. "Take the wall down, and I promise we'll cooperate, but only if you can assure us that we're not going to be cooped up in here much longer."

The technician glanced up as the light shower abated. "You can't keep doing things like this."

"I promise, no more indoor rain showers," said Laura.

"And I can't make promises, either. Some things are not decided at my level."

"Then at least give us this," said Laura softly. "Please?"

The technician glanced at the ponies who were still embracing one another, his eyes shimmering. "Stand down," he said to the soldiers. "And help us take down the wall."

The soldiers' acknowledgment was lost to cheering and hoof-stomps.

Laura let out a shaky sigh and fell to her haunches. Fred approached her and said, "That was some fine negotiation you did."

Laura looked up. "Thank you, but I feel like I didn't do much."

"You stopped a brawl. That counts for something."

Laura stared. "You're Fred Turner."

"Guilty as charged," said Fred. "If it helps any, I'm a helluva lot saner than I ever was." He looked around. "Is your sister Jenny here?"

Laura's ears drooped. "She's in another shelter, like the rest of my family."

Fred's eyes widened. "Shit, you don't even have family here and you fought for that anyway for the others?"

"It was the right thing to do."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Fred smirked. "Kid, I've known people double your age who were only half as mature as you are."

Laura smiled faintly.

"Anyway, I wanted to apologize to Jenny. I never meant to frighten her like that. I wasn't in my right mind, and I was only halfway through all this. I would never have hurt her."

Laura rose to her hooves and turned to face him. "I think I know that now. Were you really the first one to become a pony?"

"That's what they tell me, for what it's worth."

Another cheer rose as a section of the wall was removed, and ponies poured through in both directions. As Fred watched, a pale yellow unicorn with bright yellow and red hair stepped up to Laura, smiling broadly. "I am so very proud of you," said the mare as she hugged Laura.

"I almost can't believe I did it," Laura said in an awed voice. "I created a cloud and made it rain!"

"I don't mean just that," said the unicorn. "I mean what just happened now."

"I still don't know how I'm going to get through to them before something else happens. Especially from the earth ponies. They more than anypony need to be outside."

"Yeah, I can attest to that," said Fred.

The unicorn looked over to him. "Have we met?"

"Likely not. Fred Turner."

The unicorn smiled. "Sadie Sommers, but everypony calls me Sunny."

The name meant nothing to him, but that wasn't a surprise, considering how few people he knew in town. At the same time, he had been trained to observe, and it was already obvious that Laura was looking up to this older unicorn mare as a surrogate mother while her own was absent.

He saw no recognition from Sadie, even after hearing his voice. Perhaps she was one of the few people in town who never paid attention to the gossip of the "crazy prepper," or she was just kind enough not to mention it. Maybe he was grasping at straws, eager to see something out of place, but he did file it away as a possible oddity.

This was more like it. He felt like he was doing something useful now.

"Would you like to meet some of my other friends, Mr. Turner?" Laura asked.

"Sure, I'd like that," said Fred. "And, please, call me Fred."





As Bob had surmised the other day, once Harold got his mind focused on an objective, it was very hard to sway him otherwise. He spared his complete transformation not a moment of introspection. That he was a red-furred and blue-haired earth pony did nothing to change the fact that he wanted to see his family again. He was thus just a tad impatient with some of his friends who greeted their induction into ponykind with some initial bemusement.

"Are you still with me, Ken?" Harold asked.

"You bet I am," said Ken as he trotted over. "My wife can be a nag, sometimes, but she's still everything to me."

"Where's James? I thought he might want to see Jenny again."

"I'm here!" came a voice accompanied by galloping hooves. An earth pony with dark blue fur and olive green mane stepped into view, standing a little shorter than his father. His ears drooped slightly. "I just hope she wants to see me again."

"Why wouldn't she?" Harold asked.

"She was kinda upset the last time I talked to her, just before we came here," said James.

"I'm sure she's over that now. It was just that stupid awkward in-between phase. It made everypony on edge."

"Yeah, I'm glad that's over," said Ken. "Never felt so helpless in my life than I did last night before going to sleep."

"Hang on a sec." Harold turned away from them. "Bob? Where are you?"

"Over here."

Harold trotted towards his adoptive son's bedroll. "You all right?"

Bob was sitting cross-legged, dark green fur covering his calves. Two pony ears covered in the same fur swiveled towards Harold's voice. "As well as can be expected," he said in a low voice.

Harold hesitated, unsure of what to say. He wanted to comfort Bob that this would be over soon for him as well, and he could stop feeling so uncomfortable in this transitional state. But what would that mean? That Bob would be a pony soon, and then everything would be okay? He had trouble dealing with the juxtaposition of what his own sense of self was saying about what he should be and what his senses were telling him about Bob's state.

"Sarah's going to be glad to see you, too," Harold finally said.

"I'm not sure I could relate to her just yet," said Bob.

"Bob, you're still family. That hasn't changed."

"You're all ponies now."

Harold exchanged a confused look with the others. "Well, yes. Does that matter?"

Bob stared at him with glistening eyes. "It matters in a way that I don't think you'll understand anymore. I'm struggling harder to understand it myself. It's making things awkward."

Harold thought maybe he could grasp it, but it was as if it didn't matter. He was who and what he was, and he had more important matters to deal with, like keeping his family together and safe.

Harold took a step towards Bob. "We've been through a hell of a lot, more than I think any family should be put through. I could say doubly so for you, considering how you came to us. You spent so long isolated from us because you didn't know how to fit in. Don't let the fact that I have hooves and you don't isolate you again."

Bob met Harold earnest gaze with a shimmering one of his own, and he finally nodded. He slowly stood up. "I'm just not going to be all that fast. My feet are kind of stiff."

Harold smiled faintly. "I understand. Just hold the fort for now."

He turned back to the others. By now, six more ponies had gathered, mostly earth but one unicorn and one pegasus.

"So, are we ready to do this?" Harold asked.

"You bet we are!" Ken said to a chorus of approval from the others.

Harold smiled. This was the largest circle of friends he ever had. He had always been on good terms with his immediate neighbors and a few parents he knew from PTA meetings, but he never really had close friends like these. It felt good, like something he should have done a long time ago. Maybe it would have made the stress of all the events of the past two weeks more bearable.

Harold turned towards the front of the auditorium, and his friends fell into step with him. Other ponies gave them curious glances. A few seemed to sense Harold's purpose and joined the group. It had doubled in size by the time they reached the technicians who now regarded them with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. One of the technicians finally stepped forward and said, "May I help you with something?"

"Yes, you can." Harold pointed a fore-hoof towards the wall. "Take down that wall, or we'll take it down ourselves."

The technician uttered an exasperated sigh. "I know I'm probably asking a lot of you, Mr. Tanner, but could you please be reasonable?"

"What the hell is reasonable about keeping our families apart?"

By now, more ponies joined his group. Another technician leaned over to the first and whispered, "Should I call in more security?"

"I heard that," said Harold. "You don't need more security because this isn't a violent uprising. The problem we have is with that wall, not you."

The first technician frowned and said to the other, "Call the other shelters. See if they're having the same problem." He turned back to Harold. "We don't know yet what kind of, um, social dynamic that will trigger."

Harold's eyes widened. "Social dynamic? We're not some sort of science experiment! Maybe we let you poke us and prod us before, but that's kind of a moot point now, isn't it?"

By now, almost the whole male contingent of ponies had joined together. Even Bob stood in the rear ranks.

"You are not well," said the technician.

"That's news to me," Harold snapped. "I feel pretty good, actually. I can move properly again. I'm not stuck wondering what's going to happen to me anymore. By all rights, we should be just trotting out of this stupid quarantine, but we're not even asking for that."

"We have no idea what your interaction would be with ... with naked and potentially fertile females."

Stunned silence followed from the assembled stallions and colts until one of them snorted and amused laughter rippled through the others.

"Oh, good God, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Harold. "There's a time and a place for that sort of thing. This is neither. We're not some dumb farm animals."

The second technician returned and conferred with the first, this time being more careful about being overheard. The first technician frowned. "Oh, you're not serious. What is it with this Tanner family?!"

Harold smiled, pride swelling in his heart for his daughter Laura.

"You remember what Doctor Marlowe said--" the other technician began.

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware, thank you!" He turned back to the ponies and sighed. "All right, we'll take the wall down."

A cheer went up, and hoof-stomps shook the floor. Several ponies clapped a fore-hoof on Harold's shoulder. He smiled faintly. While he had appreciated the solidarity, he hoped this had not made him into some sort of leader. He only wanted to see his wife and daughter again, and he knew he wasn't the only one. What he had done was not so much out of leadership as impatience.

After the first section of the wall was removed, the technicians were momentarily overrun by ponies pouring through the gap. Another section fell with a loud bang when a unicorn mare figured out how to pull the locking pins out with her magic. Some newly-minted pegasi were too impatient and took shaky flights over the wall, usually ending in a tumble that was more embarrassing than it was painful, as if they were built to handle the occasional fall.

Harold was one of the first to rush through the initial gap. "Sarah!"

"Over here!" an achingly familiar voice shouted.

Harold galloped in that direction, but he skidded to an ungainly halt when his gaze met that of the orange unicorn mare with red and salmon-pink hair and the blue-coated, pink-haired filly next to her. His hesitation was very brief as the alien suddenly became wonderfully familiar again, and he rushed to embrace them.

"I know it's only been two days, but it feels like a lifetime," Harold said in a quavering voice.

"In a way, it has," said Sarah. "Things are never going to be quite the same again."

"What difference does that make?" Jenny asked. "We're together again, that's all that matters."

Sarah drew back enough from the embrace to look Harold in the eye. "Just tell me one thing, Harry."

Harold sighed. "I know that look. Becoming a pony hasn't changed it one bit. What did I do now?"

"That was you I heard speaking before, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you were planning to do something either stupid or brave if they didn't agree to take the wall down, weren't you?"

Harold rubbed a fore-hoof through his mane. "Yeah, I was."

Sarah slowly smiled. "I love you."

Harold grinned. "I love you, too."

Sarah craned her neck and glanced around. "Where's Bob?"

Harold turned his head. "I thought he was right behind me."

"I'll go find him!" Jenny said as she galloped off.





Bob had felt the urge to lend his own voice to the cheering when Harold got what he wanted. His heart had ached at the solidarity the other ponies had shown. The need for a sense of belonging had finally prompted him to take up a position in the rear, and it had assuaged it somewhat.

Once the wall came down, and the ponies of both genders came together in very open displays of affection, that sense of needing to belong became almost overwhelming. He had initially been right behind Harold, though Harold had easily pulled ahead. For just a moment, Bob hated his feet. They were slowing him down. He would have kept pace if he had hooves.

That thought had stopped him in his tracks, and Harold had quickly disappeared into the storm of color. Bob was losing the battle against the transformation, if it had ever really been a battle at all. He knew from the persistent headache that he was a unicorn.

Going to be a unicorn. Already it had started to overwrite his sense of self, his remaining humanity almost superfluous, just something that he needed to get over so he could get on with his life.

Bob had had his reservations about going into a shelter where nearly everyone was more advanced, but he didn't want to meet with Harold's resistance against breaking up the family even further. He wondered if the presence of so many ponies was drawing him into their herd mentality faster than if he had been, say, at the shelter Tina had gone. Perhaps that was why he had resisted calling her, that he had not wanted to admit to his vague sense of failure.

"Bob?"

Bob flinched slightly and turned towards a voice that was familiar but lower in height than expected. He blinked when his eyes fell on the blue-furred earth filly, her wavy mane bright pink, regarding him with purple eyes that held a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Her final transformation had been hidden from him, but even without hearing her voice, he would have known on some instinctual level that this was Jenny. "Uh, hi."

Jenny smirked. "What are you doing over here?" She jabbed a fore-hoof back the way she had come. "The family's that way."

Bob stared at Jenny for a long moment. If he concentrated hard enough, he could just barely see her in his head as a human girl. It had the taint of old news, something that was of vital importance in the past but was relegated to historical trivia now. He held onto it long enough to blurt out, "Have you questioned anything about this at all?"

To his surprise, Jenny hesitated, looking uncertain. "Maybe a little at first. It's not quite what I expected."

Bob admittedly had never pegged Jenny as one for critical analysis. She flew through life by the seat of her pants, as much as that expression had meaning anymore. Whatever had sparked that tiny bit of doubt, it must have had some other source.

"What difference does it make now?" said Jenny.

That was more like Jenny. Just go with the flow and to hell with what the consequences might be. "I guess it still makes a difference to me," said Bob. "Though maybe not as much anymore."

"Then just come back with me and--"

"Jenny, tell me the truth," Bob said. "Do you hope I'll become like you and the rest of the family soon?"

Jenny sighed. "Why do you always ask such silly questions?"

"But can you answer it?"

"I, uh ... I mean ... you're going to anyway, right?"

"Most likely, yes."

"Then why are you asking me? Since when did you ever ask my opinion on anything?"

Bob hesitated. "Maybe that was my fault for not socializing with the rest of the family more, but--"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Every time you talk, it sounds like a science experiment."

"Just answer the question, please?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do. For one thing, I won't have to get a crick in my neck looking up at you."

Bob frowned. "Is that a serious answer?"

"Bob, all I know is that you're family," said Jenny. "So, yeah, maybe you being fully pony would let me relate to you better."

"You never really related to me as a human."

Jenny averted her eyes and scraped the floor with a hoof. "Yeah, well, that was me being in my own little world. I'm not quite like that anymore. At least I don't want to be."

Bob saw he had two choices: reject his family, and perhaps it would let him hold on to his remaining humanity a little longer, or accept his family and possible hasten his fall.

For the longest time, he had felt in-between families rather than part of one or the other. That had started to change for the better over the past few years, only to be shattered again when the financial woes had led to words being said between Sarah and Harold that he never should have heard. He wanted desperately to put that all behind him, even if it meant embracing a transformation that he had not desired or requested.

He didn't want to be alone in the crowd. Or in this case, the herd.

"All right," said Bob softly. "Let's go join the others."
> Chapter 40 - Game Plan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight levitated a blue gem onto the table. "This was once used as a Farhearing Stone, which allows one to instantly communicate with another holding a similar gem. I've instead placed a translation enchantment on it."

"For what purpose?" Anthony asked.

"When I speak with Sunset, I'll have to use Equestrian, otherwise she would be suspicious as to why I was using your language instead," said Twilight. "That will be useless as evidence to you unless you can hear it in your own tongue. Like this." She stepped up to the stone and said, "<Now is the time for all beings to come together in the name of friendship.>"

Her Equestrian tongue went in, but English came out.

"Place this gem near your recording equipment," said Twilight. "You'll hear English, and your machines will also record the same."

Starlight looked at Anthony. "So does that pass muster with your legal system?"

"As I said before, I've been told to be more flexible," said Anthony. "We're operating under a combination of martial law and presidential executive order. The President's exact words were: 'we need progress now; let the courts figure out the details later.'"

Kevin smiled tightly. "Better to ask forgiveness later than for permission now."

"In effect, yes."

"One would think just the fact that she speaks Equestrian would be a dead giveaway. It sounds like it would be a bit difficult for humans to learn with any degree of fluency without a lot of study."

"While I have been given more latitude, I still want as much evidence as possible." Anthony turned to Twilight. "I should inform you that I've been given latitude in one other area. Our goal is to find a means to incarcerate Sunset so she can be held accountable for her actions."

Starlight glanced with concern at Twilight, but her friend simply nodded and said in a neutral voice, "I understand."

"But if we find that our initial plans are failing, and I feel that enough proof has been provided to establish both her identity and her culpability ..." He paused and glanced about the room. "I've been given command of a SWAT team."

"I'm not familiar with that term," said Twilight, though her heart already pounded as if in anticipation of the answer.

"Think of them as a special branch of law enforcement," Anthony explained. "Much more military in tactics and equipment. Specifically, I'm bring in a team of snipers."

Twilight uttered a small gasp.

"They'll be set up around the perimeter of the designated area. They will not fire unless I give the word, but I will give that word if I feel we have no other choice."

"You would k-kill her, just like that?!" Twilight exploded.

"It's not a decision I take lightly, Twilight. Frankly, I wish I didn't have this responsibility at all but--"

Twilight thumped a fore-hoof against the floor. "I don't mean that! You're not even going to give her the chance to understand what she's done wrong?"

"I intend to give her every chance of surrendering to us," said Anthony. "Or of you and Starlight subduing her. But if that doesn't appear to be working, we can't take any chances she'll either remain free to interfere with our efforts or harm you in any way. We're doing this to protect you as well as us. This is our last chance."

Twilight looked at Starlight. "In my world, there's no such thing as a last chance."

"But we're in this world, and things work differently here."

Twilight lowered her gaze and voice. "I'm well aware of that."

"Twilight, I'm sorry, but I have to agree with him," said Starlight.

Twilight turned her gaze to her friend. "You'd see her killed, too?"

"No, I don't want to happen, but sometimes you have to draw a line. Did Nightmare Moon listen to reason, or did you have to blast her with the Elements of Harmony? Did Tirek listen, or did you have to send him back to Tartarus? Did Sombra listen, or--"

"You've made your point," Twilight snapped.

"Twilight, you've said several times how you admire our culture," said Anthony in a softer voice. "I'll go on record as saying I admire your world as well."

Twilight turned her glistening gaze to him.

"I wish we could use friendship to solve all our problems. I started my career in the Bureau battling illegal drug trafficking. I've seen the absolute worst that human beings can be. I wished I could do more for them, but I had a duty to protect the citizens of this country. That's no different here. If I do make that decision, I won't like it. I won't revel in it. I'll do it because I have to."

Both Starlight's and Anthony's words echoed in Twilight's head. She remembered the keen sense of regret and even guilt she had felt after helping to save the Crystal Empire. She had wrestled with the question of whether she and Spike had actually killed a being, the first time such a thing had ever happened. She had argued that Sombra was little more than a lingering shadow, a skin of evil that no longer had the capacity for any emotion except ruthless ambition, but it made it no less difficult to accept.

"I'm just not used to this approach," said Twilight. "I said Starlight had a point, but generally we don't kill. We incarcerate and sometimes banish, yes, but we also forgive and reform. A creature named Discord was once one of our greatest foes from the past, and now he's become one of our friends, and sometimes even an ally."

"If it helps any," said Anthony, "There are several world leaders -- including the President -- who are looking forward to meeting you outside of this crisis, but we need to remain focused."

"I understand. I just hadn't expected to be partially responsible for Sunset's potential death." Twilight took a deep breath. "I've said I'll do whatever it takes to save your world, and I meant it."

"We'll set up a separate meeting to go over the logistics of the operation," said Anthony. "Until then, let's move on. Doctor Marlowe, do you have an updated report on the spread of ETS?"

Sandra paused as if to steel herself before opening the folder before her. "We had another large set of complete transformations in Lazy Pines. That means now ninety-three percent of the town is in end-state. Other communities in the emergency area are reporting full transformations. We're getting reports of some near or entering end-state outside the zone."

"How many total transformations so far all told?" Kevin asked.

Sandra let out a small sigh through her nose. "Seventy-five thousand, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. The number of people with active ETS symptoms -- even as little as discolored hair -- may be as high as fifty million."

An uneasy silence settled over the room. Anthony tapped a finger on the table. "Why is it ramping up so quickly?"

"Twilight and I spoke about this before the meeting," said Sandra in a somber voice. "Our consensus is that the intense virulence of the influenza virus vector caused an exponential increase in influenza cases, so much so that the CDC lost the ability to accurately track the number of infected. This, in turn, drastically increased the available pool of transformation magic. ETS symptoms are starting as early as a day after recovery from influenza. In some cases, the influenza infection itself is cut short. We saw this with patient Eileen McDermott before the counterspell was successfully applied."

"And we're absolutely sure we can't stop or reverse those cases?"

While the question had been put to the room in general, most eyes immediately shifted to Twilight. "I can't even begin to do that until I can find a way to drain the available pool of transformation magic," said Twilight.

"I know we're focused on stopping the spread, but have you given any thought to it at all?" Anthony asked.

"Some. I need to come up with a way to create the equivalent of a 'magic sink'. Perhaps if there are minerals in the crust of your planet that have an affinity for magic, they might be useful in that endeavor. Another idea might be a combined effort of Equestrian pegasi and unicorns to create a storm that could suck in the magic. Naturally, that would be after we regain control of the portal and can summon help."

"Could they also help with distributing the counterspell?" Kevin asked.

"Possibly," said Twilight. "Normally my friends and I would use Harmony magic to do such a thing, but that's intimately tied to our own world. I'm not sure I could either summon it here or control it."

"What about your ruler?" said Anthony. "You've mentioned that she's more powerful than you."

"Yes, but not all-powerful. Even she has limits. She could cast it over a wider area than I could, yes, but nowhere near enough to go around the whole planet. Even if we brought in Princess Luna and Princess Cadance, I'm still not sure that would be enough. We'd still be limiting the number of people cured to tens of millions."

Kevin leaned forward. "I just had a wild idea. Twilight, you've stated that those who become unicorns can work spells like the unicorns of your world, correct?"

"Yes, indeed," said Twilight. "I understand that most of them are mastering levitation already. Sunset must have instilled that basic knowledge into them."

"Could they be taught to cast your spell?"

"The counterspell may be too complicated for most of them. A few may be prodigies who can master it, but not enough to make a difference." Twilight suddenly gasped. "Wait, I just thought of something! What about the crystal ponies?"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"

"We know they can focus and channel magic into the Crystal Heart. What if they could somehow be used as magical conduits for the spell?"

Sandra quickly flipped to another folder. "Just about every shelter is reporting at least one or two of these so-called 'crystal ponies'. They're also appearing among the general populace who have ETS."

"There's got to be a way to take advantage of that!" Twilight said excitedly.

"I once again repeat my request to rub Sunset's muzzle in this," Starlight declared. "Though don't we still have the problem of getting enough power to do what you want?"

"Yes, that only potentially solves the distribution problem. It's still a mass-casting and still requires the sum total power of individual castings on potentially billions of inhabitants. But it's progress."

"We also have another problem we need to address sooner rather than later," said Sandra. "We're facing the possibility of open revolt among the fully transformed in the shelters."

Anthony gave her a concerned look. "Are they getting violent?"

"Just the opposite. They're going out of their way to avoid any sort of direct confrontation, but they're increasingly ignoring requests to stop practicing their magic. They're agitating to be released. Threats of mass-tranquilization seem to work for now, but I doubt it will for much longer."

"As I told Mr. Heller, without a magical component, your normal sedatives won't work," said Twilight.

"Yes, but they don't know that," said Sandra. "The earth ponies are the biggest agitators. The only thing holding them in check is the fact that almost every shelter reports that someone from among them has become their tacit leader. They don't even seem to mind that in one case, she's only seventeen."

Kevin's eyebrows rose. "Not Laura Tanner?"

"Yes, actually."

Kevin smiled. "Despite the trouble she's causing you, I must admit to feeling a bit proud of her."

"But those leaders are agitating as well, and if the earth ponies lead the revolt, we can't stop them without using lethal force," said Sandra. "Obviously, that's completely unacceptable and not even on the table as an option."

"Sandra, we have to turn them loose," said Kevin.

"We'd have very little control over them if we do that."

"Then maybe we need to stop controlling them. What more can they tell us about this affliction?"

Sandra sighed. "Then we're giving Sunset what she wants. She wants them to come together into these communities."

"And torturing them by keeping them prisoners is going to help how?" Kevin said. "I'm sorry, I know we've mostly been on the same page, but I have to disagree with you here. Our most sacred oath as physicians is: do no harm. Keeping them locked up like this is doing them more harm than good. They're not even contagious anymore."

Twilight felt an immense sense of relief to have Kevin on her side. She knew she could advocate for the ponies as much as she wanted, but it still amounted to a foreigner telling the locals how to manage their affairs. Having a fellow human advocate for them instead would carry far more weight, especially with someone who commanded as much respect as Kevin.

Twilight didn't consider herself wrong in wanting these ponies to thrive. They hadn't asked for this to happen to them, but they had the right to live their lives free of further strife. While she intended to keep her promise of changing back those who she could, she remembered Fred's plea to give him a choice. She wished there was a way to somehow separate the psyche from the morphic resonance to really give all these ponies an informed choice so she wouldn't feel like it was yet another forced transformation.

Sandra ran a hand through her already disheveled hair and turned to Anthony. "Would the President have any advice for us?"

Anthony looked thoughtful. "He would see Doctor Conner's point but would also realize it's a security nightmare."

"These transformed people have shown the very same herd instinct that Twilight described," said Kevin. "They'll likely stick together and not want to be adventurous at first. And if you're still worried about catering to Sunset's plans, perhaps telling them that they're being released in respect to their rights as Americans will remind them of their origins."

"But where exactly do we put them?" Sandra asked.

Kevin turned to Twilight. "Do you have a suggestion for us?"

Twilight was grateful to be drawn back into the conversation, as she had been bursting at the seams to comment. "Yes. An empty field with exposed earth would do best. Ponies back on my world do live in homes, but we're capable of living communally outside. Their existing homes are likely too big for them now and made more for human hands than pony hooves."

"Surely they would need some sort of shelter?" Sandra said.

"Tents should do for now. Ponies don't mind snuggling close together for warmth at night."

"Naturally, we can't force them to go there, we can only suggest it," said Kevin. "Otherwise, we're just moving their prison outdoors."

"If they know the land around the town, they might settle on a place themselves," said Twilight.

"But how do we curb them from wreaking havoc with the weather?" asked Anthony. "Doctor Marlowe said some have already successfully displayed that ability, and it was indoors."

"There aren't enough to affect the weather on a large scale yet," said Twilight. "The town, yes, but not much beyond that. I imagine Sunset tried to balance the initial numbers of pegasi to be more suited for local weather control, likely to provide water for food crops and prevent inclement weather before more permanent housing can be created."

"But how would they build housing without hands?" Sandra asked. "Or do unicorns do all that back in your world?"

Twilight smiled. "You'd be surprised how well ponies can use hooves and teeth. My friend Applejack and her family built a new barn once, and they're all earth ponies."

"All right, let me see what I can do," said Sandra. "Meanwhile, we got back some preliminary results from the new genetic tests we did on Miss Sommers. The results are very slightly different from the first tests. They do align a bit more with Twilight and Starlight than with the general population."

Anthony steepled his fingers and paused for a long moment in thought. "How sure are you of that, Doctor Marlowe?"

"The differences are just barely outside the margin of error. If I were banking a critical diagnosis on results like this, I wouldn't risk it."

"Yet it convinced you of Twilight and Starlight's integrity."

"It suggested as such," said Sandra. "I admit to being a bit biased out of desperation. Everyone's genetic code varies to some degree. The trick is to compare the parts that tend not to vary as much which define basic biological functions and processes. We're just not completely sure where those end and the individual variances begin where ponies are concerned."

Anthony was quiet for another few moments. "All right, this wouldn't necessarily stand up in court, but it's enough to convince me of the increased possibilities. From this point on, we'll operate on the assumption that Miss Sommers is Sunset Shimmer."

"About time," Starlight muttered.

"We would've gone ahead with the operation anyway," said Anthony. "At this point, we have nothing to lose."





The conference room that Starlight had been using to concoct a better unmarking spell had been converted into a full-fledged magic workshop. Several physicists and engineers stood at the periphery making their own observations as Twilight worked. Arrayed on the table where many samples of precious stones and gems, all provided to allow her to see if any earthly materials were up to the task of holding magic.

In providing the materials, the staff were generous to a degree that would have made Rarity proud. Some gave up treasured wedding and engagement rings knowing full well that Twilight's efforts might shatter their center stones. To that effect, she had insisted all humans in the room wear eye protection.

"Why precious gems?" a scientist asked.

"There are two types of thaumically-aware objects," Twilight explained as she gently applied a flow of energy from her horn into a ring with an emerald as its gemstone. "Containers and conductors. Containers are objects that can hold magic, and they require an internal lattice structure of the right geometry, and gems tend to best for that. Conductors are materials which allow magic to remain flowing inside them, similar to electricity through certain metals."

"Then if I'm interpreting your explanation of how the transformation spell works, humans are being used as containers," said another.

Twilight heard a faint crack from the emerald, and she sighed as she let the magic flow fade. "Life and magic are intimately connected. Magic cannot arise without life. Life is more than just biological function. It has a sort of force all its own, and that force has structure that can easily hold magic. I know this likely sounds metaphysical to you, but it's how things work." She frowned as she looked over her other failed experiments. "As I feared, your world has not been exposed to magic enough to produce the proper materials. We'll have to rely on what Sunset has."

"But you said we have a strong thaumic field--"

Twilight turned towards him. "Don't confuse thaumic energy with magic. Thaumic energy is the precursor. It doesn't become magic until a living creature taps into it. Even when not actively using magic, ponies produce an ambient magical field. Over time, this shapes certain minerals into producing materials that can be used to hold magic spells."

"Has nothing worked?" another asked.

"The closest I've come to finding a successful container is diamond," said Twilight. "But it needs to be impossibly pure. Even the slightest impurities renders it unsuitable. The only reason it works at all, I suspect, is because it's made of carbon, which itself is essential to life as we know it."

"I'm struggling to understand this, Twilight," said the physicist who had challenged Twilight during the lecture she gave the day before. "What exactly does magic impart into materials to make them suitable?"

Twilight stepped towards the gentleman. He was an older fellow, with a small beard and thin sideburns. "May I ask for your name?"

"Karl," he replied.

Twilight smiled. "Thank you. To be honest, I wouldn't know how to put it in your terms, Karl. Humanity has made tremendously greater strides than Equestria in working out the nature of matter. I've been trying to catch up, but I have a long way to go. Perhaps magic imparts another particle -- call it a thaumaton, for lack of a better term -- into the nucleus of the atom. Perhaps there's something about life itself that neither of us knows yet. Or maybe the branch of science you call quantum physics holds the answer."

A knock came at the door. Twilight turned as a Secret Service agent opened the door from the hall. "Are you open to interruption?"

"Yes, that's fine."

He opened the door fully, and Starlight and Anthony entered the room. "Twilight, we might have a solution to the broadcast facilities we need for your thaumic jamming field idea," said Starlight.

Twilight's eyes widened. "You do? Tell me!"

"The EAS broadcast stations," said Anthony.

"Explain to me what this is, please."

"EAS -- the Emergency Alert System -- is a means for the President to announce a national emergency and to speak with the entire country," Anthony said. "Though the brutal reality is that 'national emergency' really means 'nuclear war.' For all other national emergencies, it's never been used because CNN and their ilk beat us to the punch and provide far more detailed information that EAS ever would. All it's used for is at the local level for warning of tornadoes or other dangerous weather."

"I don't quite understand all their power terminology, Twilight, but each of these primary broadcast stations is supposed to be fifty thousand watts," Starlight explained.

"That is a considerable amount of power," said Twilight.

"And they have about three dozen of them. That's nearly as many objects as Sarah said she found at that one archaeological site. These primary stations in turn connect up with a big part of their communications network. We'll be able to reach almost the entire country!"

Twilight sighed. "But there's just one problem. That's too much power. Those gems will burn out in an instant."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," said Starlight. "I examined your notes on Sunset's transformation spell. Instead of trying to maintain a constant jamming field, what about just doing one big powerful burst and temporarily overload the sensing rune part of the spell?"

"That might work," Twilight said slowly. "But only for a day or two at most."

"But by then we'll have control of the portal. Equestria can send more materials."

"That's incredibly slim timing. It would be a mad rush to find the materials, deliver them to Canterlot, and shove them through the portal."

"The only alternative is to reduce the scope of the jamming field," said Anthony. "Which then raises the question: what part of the country do we protect? The President doesn't like the idea of playing favorites."

"If we stick with the original plan -- a constant jamming field -- we can only cover a hoofful of states," said Starlight. "That's barely going to put a dent in the spread. We have a chance to stop this thing in its tracks, at least in the United States."

"That's another thing I don't like," said Twilight. "I feel like I'm being asked to play favorites among the nations of this planet." She turned to Anthony. "I know you all have your differences and rivalries, but surely you can put them aside at a time like this."

"We have to be brutally practical, Twilight," said Anthony. "America by far is the hardest hit, and we happen to be one of the leading superpowers of the free world. We want to remain that way if we're to help put the world back together again after this. Rest assured that the President is sharing information with other nations, even those we consider our rivals as you put it. At its heart, this is a worldwide pandemic, and nations are pledged to share data to help stop it."

"We have to start somewhere," said Starlight.

"I know," said Twilight. "I never said we shouldn't do it, but I had to express my concerns. All right. Starlight, I have faith in your analysis. We'll go with a single powerful pulse instead of a constant jamming in hopes of buying time."

"The President already anticipated you would agree," said Anthony. "He's mobilizing the necessary transport and technicians to deliver the gemstones to the transmitters. I can't emphasize enough how important it is that we neutralize Sunset Shimmer in Operation Red Dusk."

Twilight blinked. "Er, operation what?"

"Red Dusk," said Starlight before rolling her eyes. "See what I mean? Humans have to put a fancy label on everything."

Before Twilight could reply, the door to the room opened, and Sandra rushed in. "Twilight, Starlight, we need you at once. There's been a change in Star Singer's condition."

The two ponies turned towards her. "Is she finally awake?" Twilight asked.

"Just the opposite. Her brainwaves are nearly flat-lined."

Starlight paled.

"What?!" Twilight exploded. "Are you saying she died?!"

"We don't know," Sandra said. "Her heart is still strong, her eyes are still open, she still blinks on occasion, and her autonomic functions are good, but it's as if she's partially brain-dead. I've never seen anything quite like this before."

"Come on, Twilight, let's check this out!" Starlight said.





Starlight frowned as she carefully leaned in for a closer look at Star Singer, her horn glowing. She glanced at the machine which displayed Star Singer's brainwaves and was met with several flat lines.

"Could this be part of the healing trance?" Sandra asked.

"I've never heard of one doing this before," Starlight murmured.

"And I don't recall reading about this, either," said Twilight in a quavering voice "In fact, I can't think of any condition that would cause this. A healing trance should be a completely stable state."

"Yeah, well, where Sunset's involved, all bets are off," Starlight grumbled.

"I keep telling you, Starlight, Sunset would never do something like this."

"This room is under constant surveillance," said Sandra. "Even if Sunset had tried to teleport in, we would've seen her. Or we would've seen a blank spot on the tapes if she had blocked the recording. Either would've triggered the guards outside to come into the room."

Starlight turned towards her friend. "Twilight, will you please chill the hell out about that? I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that what Sunset is doing provoked such a mess in the future that it was too much for Star Singer to handle."

"I'm sorry," Twilight said softly, her eyes glistening. "Star Singer can't be ... c-can't be dead."

Starlight turned back to Star Singer. "I don't think she is. She's just ... not here."

"I don't understand."

Starlight lighted her horn again. "Minds have a sort of signature to them, a structure that's unique to each creature. I'm not sensing that anymore. In other words, the plumbing is all there but someone turned off the water."

Twilight swallowed hard. "B-but that could mean brain-death, right?"

"Her head looks like someone let loose with a brain-freeze spell. That simply locks up a mind in complete stasis. A mind hit with that would look like what I'm sensing--" She gestured towards the monitor. "--and it might even look like this on human equipment. But where there's no evidence of mind magic being used, I don't know exactly what happened."

Sandra looked thoughtful. "I'm going to suggest something that until a few days ago, I would never even consider as a possibility. Is she having an out-of-body-experience?"

Starlight turned to her. "Depends on what that is."

"Some people believe that it's possible through techniques like meditation to temporarily leave your body and travel to other parts of the world or to other planes of existence."

"That must be it!" Twilight cried.

Starlight turned to her. "Uhh, how do you figure that?"

"I told you, I had done some research on her after we first met her. I wanted to know what exactly 'singing to the stars' meant. Stars in Equestria are believed to have a connection to other planes of existence. We see star-filled landscapes when Luna affects our dreams. I saw a similar starscape when I met Celestia as I was about to Ascend."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you are not about to tell me that Star Singer is going to be an alicorn!"

"No, don't be ridiculous," said Twilight. "In my case, I was there in both mind and body. My point is, such planes do exist, and Star Singer could be visiting one of those realms right now."

"But for what reason?" said Starlight.

Twilight stepped up to Star Singer and gazed into her unseeing eyes. "I honestly don't know, but I dearly hope it's for a reason that will help us deal with Sunset Shimmer."





Star Singer blinks rapidly, and she awakes, even though she is sure she has not been sleeping.

She looks around the ethereal landscape and realizes she does not know where she is. Wisps of what look like sparkling white smoke drift in the air. The ground is milky white with clumps, whirls, and spirals. She hears something in the distance, almost like singing.

She lifts her head. Great circular portals display images of planets, fading into the distance. Some are lifeless, barren rock. Some boil with freely flowing lava. Others are lush and verdant. Still others are shrouded in clouds over endless oceans. Images flicker to new ones in only seconds, and still no two are quite alike. Her breath catches when she briefly sees a landscape covered in the broken husks of what would have been gorgeous crystal towers, like a planet-wide Crystal Empire.

Her eyes widen as she glances again down at the floor and realizes why the shapes seem so familiar. It is as if she is treading on galaxies. The wisps of "smoke" are like trails of stars.

"Is anypony here?" Star Singer calls out, her voice quavering.

In the distance, the singing grows louder.

Star Singer gallops forward with an urgency bordering on desperation. Her hooves make not a sound, nor do they disturb the cosmic tapestry they tread upon. The trails of stars part easily for her and swirl in eddies in her wake.

"Please, somepony, answer me!" Star Singer cries. "Where am I? What is this place?!"

Then she realizes that she had her answer all along when the cadence of the song changes. Her heart lurches; it is one of the many voices who answered her when she first Sang to the stars in this universe. Her heart racing, her hopes rising, she redoubles her efforts and soon sees a diffuse light in the distance.

Star Singer's eyes widen as the light coalesces into a scene which makes her stop dead in her tracks. Materializing out of the ether is a small hill covered in greenish-blue grass surrounding a large tree with strange, crystalline leaves. A deep orange sun shines from a pink-purple sky. Long trails of white clouds tinged pink stretch across the heavens.

Sitting beneath the tree is a strange creature, about three times as tall as Star Singer. It resembles a dragon, its body covered in silver scales, two large membraned wings folded against its sides. It sits on its haunches and raises its muzzle to the sky. Its mouth opens, and Star Singer can no longer refer to the creature as "it;" the voice which issues forth in song is distinctly feminine.

Star Singer approaches cautiously. Light glints from the creature's head, and Star sees that a golden crown sits upon it. Similar adornments encircle her limbs just above her claws. A gleaming plate covers her chest.

The creature stops singing. She turns her head towards Star Singer and smiles, her golden eyes glowing faintly. "Thank you for coming, my child."

Star Singer is momentarily nonplussed. "But ... how am I ..." She blinks. "Neither of us are speaking Equestrian. What language is this? How do I know it?"

The dragon-like creature turns more fully towards her. "It is the Universal Voice. You know it because it is like your star-singing, but with more structure. The details are not important right now."

Star Singer looks back into the ethereal corridor from which she had come before raising her gaze to the strange sky. "Just what is this place?"

The dragon steps closer to Star Singer. Despite her bulk, her steps are like the hooves of a pegasus upon the clouds. "A very lonely realm, my child," she says in a sad voice.

"You keep calling me that," says Star. "I'm in my forties."

The creature chuckles. "I am immeasurably old. I existed before humanity's sun was no more than a diffuse cloud of dust and gas."

"But who are you?"

The creature sighs. "A very good question. I have considered changing my name to relieve some of the pain, but that is tantamount to pretending the Cataclysm never happened." She gives Star a wry smile. "Not to mention my full name is one hundred fifty syllables. 'Triss' will suffice. Or 'Queen Triss' if you wish to be formal."

"Then please call me Star Singer, or just Star."

"Very well." Triss turns away. "Please, walk with me, Star."

Star Singer pauses before stepping onto the grass. The air is fragrant and sweet. A gentle breeze ruffles her mane. "Are we still in the same place?"

"We are," says Triss. "This part is simply made into an echo of a long dead world. My world."

"It's strange, but still beautiful."

Triss smiles faintly. "Thank you, Star, your words bring me some comfort."

"You said you're a Queen," Star says. "Of what?"

"Of my now dead world, once populated by creatures like me."

Star Singer's eyes widen. "A whole planet of dragons??"

Triss pauses. "Dragon. Interesting word. Not quite the same as what you are thinking given the connotations I'm sensing, but it will suffice. If you wish a further point of reference, my ch -- sorry, Star Singer -- then consider me an equivalent of your Princess Celestia."

"Wait, you know her?"

"Only from a vast distance," Triss says in a forlorn voice. "The occasional times this universe connected with yours, I tried to reach out to her. I am so intensely lonely, Star Singer, in a way only immortal beings can be. Perhaps I held out hope that another being like me would know the secret to preventing the Cataclysm from happening again."

Star Singer's heart pounds. She has to ask, but she has a feeling she knows the answer. "What's this Cataclysm you speak of?"

Triss gives her a wry smile, as if calling her out on her own thoughts. "You know what I refer to. The arrival of the Devourer."

Star Singer swallows hard and trembles. "Th-that is far too apt a name for it."

"The realm you are in, dear Star Singer, is where those of my kind come to Ascend to a higher state of being and power," Triss explains. "Unfortunately, the Devourer came before any of my students were ready for that moment, something which I deeply regret. It would have made the pain more endurable to have a companion."

Star Singer stares. "Your entire civilization was destroyed?"

Triss' eyes glisten. "Yes. I escaped to this realm under the foolish notion that I could find an answer here. It somehow remains out the reach of the Devourers."

Star's mouth drops open. "Devourers? There's more than one?!"

Triss simply nods.

Star pauses as if to process this. "But why am I here?"

"I brought you here to make you understand."

Star's eyes widen. "I was in a healing trance ..."

"Which I incurred."

Star gasps. "You what?!"

"It was the only way to--"

"Send me back!" Star bellows. "I have to tell Sunset Shimmer the horrible mistake she's making! I have to stop her!"

Triss cast a level gaze at Star. "Yes, you do."

"Then why am I here instead?"

"Because all you have now are vague impressions," says Triss in a solemn voice. "You need the details. You need the truth. And I need to secure a promise from you."

Star hesitates before saying in a wary voice, "What kind of promise?"

Triss draws close, and her eyes tear. "The fact that you are in this universe means you have a stable portal. I BEG of you, Star Singer, promise me you will find a way to help me connect with your Princess Celestia. End my billions of years of loneliness!"

Star Singer's gaze shimmers. Her heart aches as she remembers how she had isolated herself when she was under the belief that her visions were useless. While her own loneliness had been self-imposed, it had been no less painful. She had lamented how much of her life had been wasted, but it is nothing compared to what this creature has suffered.

Tears drip from Triss' eyes. "For so long, I held out hope that on another world, Ascended beings like me would enter this realm, but no other magical civilization made it that far. I was the first and, apparently, the last."

"I don't have the sort of power to do what you wish," Star says in a quavering voice, "But I have a friend who might."

"Then, please, call upon your friend," Triss says in a soft, pleading voice. "Perhaps I do not have a right to ask for such things due to my failure to solve the problem of the Devourers, but I feel I have been punished for it long enough."

"I promise," Star Singer says.

Triss slowly smiles. "Thank you. Now, come with me, and I will explain what you need to know ..."
> Chapter 41 - Visions of the Future
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bob glanced up at the slim skylights, where the twilight deepened towards full night. Pegasi hovered near them, gazing through the glass with longing. The technicians had long since given up trying to curb anyone from using their abilities, so long as the earth ponies took care not to break anything, the unicorns didn't try to snatch any of the technician's possessions, and the pegasi didn't try to make it rain indoors.

He caught a glow out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. Sarah lay on her belly, reading a magazine and using magic to turn the pages. It had taken only a few hours for her to master the basics of using her horn, and Bob could not help but feel some anticipation. His own horn had started to emerge, just a small nub in the center of his forehead, but it already tingled with potential.

Until that was realized, all he could do was wait. By the late afternoon, his feet had more or less frozen with the balls bent down, and now the toes had started to fuse. He could almost see it happening if he stared at it long enough.

While he was not socializing with them directly, having his family nearby was comforting. Harold and Jenny lay next to each other, talking softly. Harold's tail was wrapped partially around Jenny's haunches, as if in a symbolic gesture of protection.

"You okay, Bob?"

Bob snapped his gaze back to Sarah, who looked at him with concern. Pony faces were extremely expressive, especially with those huge eyes. The end state of the transformation had not been what he had envisioned, yet now it was becoming increasingly familiar.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Bob said in a weak voice.

Sarah folded one fore-hoof over the other. "You sure?"

"I just want this to be over."

Sarah nodded. "I understand."

Bob wished he had talked to her more during her transformation. Talking to her now was a moot point, as she was as accepting of her new form as everypony else in the family, if not the whole shelter.

Bob averted his gaze when he heard approaching hoofsteps. A colt with dark blue fur and olive green hair had trotted over to Jenny, his tail tucked between his hind legs. They spoke softly to one another for a moment, and after some encouraging words from Harold, Jenny rose to her hooves. Bob's heart ached as he saw her trot away with the colt he assumed was James.

"Something else is bothering you, honey," said Sarah.

"I just ... I kinda miss not having some of my friends here, at least the ones I knew before. Jenny at least has James."

"This is about Tina, isn't it?"

Bob remembered the car trip they had taken to Breckenridge to get groceries when the vegetables and greens became scarce in the stores in town and how flustered he was when the subject of Tina came up. Now it just hurt.

"Have you spoken with her recently?" Sarah asked.

"Not since the morning we left for the shelter."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Bob stared down at his cell phone. He had avoided turning it on that morning. "I don't want to bother her in case she's still upset."

"But that may be precisely why you need to talk to her," said Sarah. "You can reassure her that things aren't so bad."

Bob stared at Sarah, trying to convince his mind that she shouldn't be a pony and failing. "You were worried about losing your hands and your career."

Sarah smiled faintly, her horn glowing as she picked up Bob's cell phone in her magic. The phone wobbled slightly. "I imagine I can eventually operate tools and pick up artifacts with my horn given enough practice. I'm not giving up something I've poured my life into, Bob."

Bob had noticed that a distinct change had come over Sarah. He had asked Jenny about it earlier, and she said something about Sarah having her theories validated, but she couldn't give more detail than that.

"Are you worried about Tina?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Bob replied in a low voice.

Sarah raised the phone further. "Then call her. If I had the ability to talk to Laura right this moment, I would, but she doesn't answer her phone. I'm told she's safe and healthy, but I won't stop worrying until I have a chance to see her for myself."

Bob stared at the phone for a long moment before he finally grabbed it. He turned it on and was about to bring up his contacts when he was notified of several missed calls. "That's Tina's number."

Sarah smiled. "You're not the only one worried about a friend."

Bob blushed faintly as he called. "Um, hi," he said in a quavering voice when it was answered.

"Hi, yourself," said a bemused Tina. "You sure you want to talk to me?"

"Tina, I'm really sorry," Bob blurted. "I wasn't trying to ignore you. I just ... I've had some issues, let's just leave it at that."

"You really do sound upset," said Tina in a concerned voice.

"Mostly at my own foolishness."

"Come again?"

Bob glanced at Sarah. She nodded and stood. She spoke softly with Harold, and they headed away together.

"You still there?" Tina asked.

"Yeah, sorry," Bob said in a lower voice. "I was starting to think I was a failure."

"Er, how?"

Bob glanced down at his feet. "I'm probably going to become a complete pony in another day, and I'm having trouble finding any reasons why that should be wrong."

"You're that far, huh?" Tina said softly.

"What about you?"

"I have a lovely cornflower yellow tail to match the hair, and my eyes have turned dark blue."

"I think those colors go together well," Bob said before he could catch himself.

Tina chuckled. "Such a charmer."

Bob blushed. "I-I didn't mean--"

"I think you did, because I feel the same way about you."

Bob's heart raced. "Tina, I've never dated in my life. Now I wish we ... that is ..."

"Bob, this will be over soon," Tina said.

"But not in the way it should," Bob said, but the words rang hollow when he felt his ears swivel and twitch.

"Does it matter anymore? Unless, of course, you're just not into wings."

"Wings?"

"That's what I've been told I'm likely to get next. Shoulders and upper back have been aching badly, and after they took an MRI of me earlier, they said the wing bones are starting to form."

"I-I have a horn," Bob said in a hushed voice.

Tina chuckled faintly. "Then we'll both have something to show off to each other when I hold you to that promise of a date."

Bob felt mildly proud of himself when he managed not to respond with "But I didn't promise that." Instead, he said, "I have no idea what ponies are supposed to do on a date."

"We'll figure it out. They tell me to expect fur soon as well. I'll text you what color it is so we'll recognize each other."

Bob didn't think that would be necessary. He was already starting to notice that many ponies had distinct smells that he could almost pick out from each other, and the ones from his family seemed more familiar. He imagined he might know her from just that. "All right."

"Have you heard from Laura? I can't reach her anymore."

"She's a full pony now," said Bob. "A pegasus. Um, like you're becoming."

"Sweet, we'll still have something in common, then."

"I'm hearing rumors that they're considering letting us out of here, that they're waiting for all the transformations to finish."

"I really hope so. I hate being cooped up like this." Tina paused. "Um, I need to go, my parents need some help. They can't quite stand on their own anymore. I think they're going to be fully pony by morning."

"I really hope to see you soon, Tina," said Bob.

"Same here," Tina said. "Bye for now."

"Bye."

Bob hung up and let the hand holding the phone drop to his side. For the first time since this started, he felt a spark of hope that things might just turn out right in the end.





After walking for almost a full minute without a word being exchanged, Jenny finally said, "So, hi."

"Um, hi," James said in a low voice.

"Now that the extremely awkward silence phase of this conversation is over, what did you want to talk to me about?"

James hung his head briefly, his ears drooping, before he finally looked towards Jenny and said, "I think you already know."

"I didn't get fantastic mind-reading powers when I became a pony, James," said Jenny in a testy voice. "Out with it."

"I wanted to talk about us."

"Us?" Jenny said with some surprise. "There's an 'us?' News to me."

"Stop it."

"I could say the same to you."

James took a few steps ahead, then whirled around to face Jenny. She stopped barely in time to avoid plowing her muzzle into his. "Come on, you're not seriously going to let one mistake on my part ruin this."

Jenny drew back a step in surprise, one fore-hoof raised. "Mistake? You call basing your whole relationship with me on how well I entertained you a simple 'mistake' that we can just ignore?" She pointed a fore-hoof at her head. "I don't even need these big eyes to see what kind of crap that is."

"You wouldn't listen to me enough to let me explain," James said in a somber voice. "You got too hung up on me referring to you as a filly."

Jenny had only barely remembered that part of the conversation. She could almost grasp the idea that it had been wrong, that she had been justified in being upset with him. Yet was she just inventing reasons to hate him?

Not that she could truly hate him. No matter what, she still wanted his friendship. "I'm sorry," Jenny said in a more contrite voice. "I'll listen now."

"What I meant was that it was what initially attracted me to you," said James. "You have to start somewhere in a relationship."

"I wouldn't know. I'm new to this."

"Join the club. Maybe you haven't noticed that I don't date much."

"I only know you from when we started hanging out."

"Exactly what I mean," James said. "Not that I wasn't asked. Several times. I turned them all down."

Jenny smirked faintly as she said, "That supposed to impress me?"

James slowly smiled. "I'll take that in the sense I hope it was intended. That's another thing I like about you: your wit. Even if everypony else doesn't like it, I do."

Jenny's smirk turned to a small smile. "Thanks."

"As much as I enjoyed the fantasy stuff, and I'd miss it if you never went back to it, it's not the be all and end all of why I like you."

"I just don't want you to like me for the wrong things," said Jenny. "Some of what you like may be me being a self-centered brat."

James sighed. "You're not--"

Jenny planted her fore-hoof on James' muzzle. "Save it. I don't really want to go into the details about it yet, but it's something I figured out about myself, and I don't like it. I want to change it."

James grinned. "If it helps any, I was mainly going to dispute the 'brat' part."

Jenny blinked in surprise, then rolled her eyes and shoved James hard in the shoulder. Had he been anything other than an earth pony, he would have been bowled over. "Wow, you run hot and cold, don't you? Play with my affections, whydoncha?"

James chuckled. "All I meant is, yeah, I could see Tina's point. That's what started all this, right?"

"Yeah, mostly."

"I can see where other ponies would see you that way." James ran a fore-hoof through his mane. "I guess I saw it from another perspective once I started socializing more. A number of the other colts in this shelter are schoolmates, and we talked."

Jenny's ears rose. "About me?"

"Yeah."

"You're such a shameless gossip."

James blushed faintly. "The point is, yeah, even if they agreed with Tina's assessment of you, they all had nice things to say as well."

"They did?"

James smiled. "They confessed that they weren't sure why they never said that before. It's not really important."

Something in Jenny momentarily yelled that it was important as hell. Why would they change their tune now? Yet the need for acceptance overrode it.

"All right, you want me to be brutally honest?" James said. "There's another reason I wanted to talk to you. My colt friends were making noises about approaching you. I wasn't sure if it was just as friends or, well, for other reasons."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I'm not entirely sure what I feel for you right now, I don't need it complicated by ponies competing for my affection." She paused. "But I do know I feel something more for you than anypony else. I can't say what it will be like a month from now or even tomorrow."

"I'm not asking for guarantees, just a chance," said James.

"I'll consider that under one condition."

James must have caught the mischievous tone in Jenny's voice, as one corner of his mouth rose. "What's that?"

Jenny took a step closer. "You tell me what else you like about me," she said in a soft voice.

James blushed. "Your colors."

"Really?"

"Yes. The pink hair and the purple eyes just sort of does it for me."

Now it was Jenny's turn to blush. "O-kay, we're back to awkward."

"Sorry."

Jenny smiled. "It's okay. It's more a good kind of awkward. I'm just not used to hearing that kind of stuff."

James looked away for a moment. "Jenny, I don't know what's going to happen to us. I don't even know what I'll do with my life now."

"My Mom's fully intending to go back to archeology," said Jenny. "Says she can manipulate tools with her horn."

"And your Dad?"

"He hasn't said anything about it yet," said Jenny. "Other than he feels like he's in a better place now to help his father out. He's not sure why he feels that way, though."

"My father's been making noises about wanting to help out on his family's farm," said James. "I can kind of see his point."

Jenny had never really taken an interest in family affairs, but when Harold had started to talk candidly about his father's woes, it held her interest. Perhaps she was seeing a possible trip to her grandfather's farm as another adventure.

Jenny glanced behind her. "I, uh, better get back to my Dad. I've really been enjoying my time with him now that he's paying attention to me again." She snorted. "See what I mean about being self-centered?"

"That's not being self-centered," James said. "I've read in between the lines whenever you portrayed your father as a character in your stories. I knew you had something going on where you missed interacting with him."

"Maybe," Jenny murmured.

"I'm kind of the same way with my mother. All this has mellowed her out some. I'm hoping it's a trend, as we used to be closer, too."

Jenny slowly smiled. "So I guess we do have more in common than I thought."

"That's another thing I like about you. Your smile."

"Okay, now you're getting mushy."

James chuckled. "Sorry."

"I'll see you later, James," said Jenny softly.

James smiled. "See you."





"So none of you have any idea what I'm supposed to be?"

Laura's heart ached at the plaintive tone in Josie's voice. Despite the purple-maned midnight-blue-furred pony having wings, Laura hesitated to call the odd, bat-winged pony a "pegasus." It was clear she had none of the same instincts for the weather like Laura and her winged friends did, though she could fly perfectly well.

"It's bad enough I hardly get a chance to talk to anypony," Josie continued, her gaze shimmering. "Just a little in the mornings before I go to sleep and then in the evening like this when I first wake up."

"Have you tried changing up your sleep schedule?" Emma suggested.

"God, have I tried!" Josie said. "Do you know I can actually see in the dark? It's like I'm designed to be up at night, but I'm not sure why. If I just had more like me here, I'd actually enjoy it more. I never knew how beautiful the nighttime is."

"There's got to be more like you," said Joan. "I can't believe there'd be only one."

"I can sense there are others like me," said Josie. "It's kinda maddening, knowing they're out there, but I can't reach them, at least not yet."

"We should go directly to the source to figure this out," said Laura. "We should ask our caretakers if they know of any more night ponies like you. Kelly, can you make a note of that, please?"

Kelly nodded and levitated a pen to the notebook in front of her. She narrowed her eyes as she commanded the pen to write. It was a slow and laborious process, but she was getting better with each passing hour. Laura had considered trying to write with a pen in her mouth, but she thought this would be good practice for the unicorns.

She had Fred to thank for this arrangement. He had suggested keeping a journal of questions and requests. His point was that an organized front would be more respected.

"Maybe we should make a similar note for Steve," said Emma's father.

"Who's that?" Laura asked.

"An earth pony stallion with glassy hair and fur."

"Yes, I remember seeing him when the wall came down," said Joan.

"Yeah, he was feeling a little left out, too," said Joan's husband. "Though I know it's not nearly as bad as you have it, Josie."

Josie gave them a wan smile. Her father, an earth pony, gave her a hug. Josie wrapped a wing around him. "Thanks, all, I really appreciate the support."

"I feel confident that you'll learn what you can do soon," said Sadie. "If it happened for the others, it will happen to you."

"She's not the only one wondering what they can do," an earth pony stallion muttered.

"If they would just let us out of here!" cried the mare standing beside him.

"Everypony, I'm working on that," said Laura. "I'm getting anxious to have more space to stretch my wings in. If they acquiesced to our request to take down the wall, I think it's only a matter of time before they grant us this. The other shelters are likely getting more ponies by the day."

"How far do you think this is going to go?" Emma asked. "You think the whole world will be like this?"

Laura had not stopped to consider it. She had been so focused in helping the ponies around her that she had not looked at the bigger picture. Where cell phones were not made with hooves in mind, she had no access to the news. While she knew her unicorn friends would be happy to lend a horn, she wanted to remain focused; this was the first time she had taken on this much responsibility and didn't want to be distracted to the point where she would start doubting herself.

"I honestly don't know," said Laura. "But if it does go that far, we're definitely going to have to be let out of here so we can figure out how to live."

"What happens when all the food's gone?" Kelly asked. "I hadn't thought of that until now."

Other unicorns were also looking concerned, but the pegasi less so, and the earth ponies showed almost no concern whatsoever. Joan's husband waved a fore-hoof and said, "Let's not worry about that right now. I don't know why, but I have a feeling it won't be as big a problem as we're thinking."

Laura glanced to the side. "Fred, do you have anything to add?"

Fred smirked. "You seem to have all together."

"I know, but you were former military. You have far more experience than me leading other ponies."

"Different world back then, kid," Fred said in a subdued voice. "With the way everypony is coming together to deal with this, I'm hoping the kind of service I used to provide won't be needed anymore."

Laura couldn't help but hear a bit of a forlorn tone to Fred's voice. Did he feel like he had lost something dear to him? Laura had no similar situation that she could relate to. If anything, this was giving her purpose that she had lacked. She felt very close to grasping what she wanted to do with her life.

Just a few weeks ago, she had been close to freaking out about college. She had a full year to go in high school, thus she was shocked and dismayed when school counselors started sounding the drumbeats that she had to start thinking right now as to what college she wanted to attend, which in turn meant she had to know right now what career she wanted to pursue. For all the praise from her mother for being responsible, it hadn't stopped her from feeling adrift in this particular area.

Now it didn't matter anymore. Convention had been thrown out the window when she realized she could fly and make it rain. How could the choice of a college compare to that?

"The only advice I can give is this," said Fred. "Don't lose sight of the fact that we all have to decide for ourselves what we want to do with our lives. Sure, circumstance is such that we have to come together for support, but we all have our own dreams and aspirations. Believe me, it's not pleasant to have that taken away from you."

"At the same time, this is a golden opportunity for new goals," said Sadie. "Things are very different now. Nothing is going back to the way it was. We have to adapt. There are just some things we can't do anymore but many things that we can. Haven't all of you been told at some point in your life that you should play to whatever your strengths or talents are?"

A nodding of heads followed her remark.

"Then you can see that this is no different. Your strengths and talents have changed, thus your goals must change."

"Yeah, you got a point," said Fred. "But my point still stands. Ponies need to decide their own fate and not have somepony dictate it to them."

"Absolutely," said Sadie with a smile. "If ponies come together for a common good, it's because they believe in it, not because somepony is cracking the whip."

"I think we can all agree with that, Sunny," said Laura. "Thank you, Fred. I think that's good advice. I'm glad you're here."

"Not half as glad as I am," said Fred. "For more reasons than one."





Josie sighed as she hovered and looked through the skylight into the midnight skies above Lazy Pines. The sparkling vault of the heavens opened up before her enhanced night vision despite the thickness of the glass. With all the residents of the town concentrated in the shelters, light pollution was greatly diminished.

She looked down. A skeleton staff was on duty as ponies slept. She had almost hoped somepony would have insomnia, but it was like everypony adhered to a strict circadian rhythm: up with the sunrise and to bed after sunset. Or, in her case, the other way around. Even the glow of her laptop did not disturb them, though she was careful to keep the audio muted. She sorely wished somepony would adapt headphones for pony ears.

Josie flew down and over the sleeping ponies. She wasn't sure what prompted her to do this. She felt protective of them, as if part of her purpose was to guard them in some way. Just before going to sleep the previous morning, she had heard Molly lament about a nightmare she had. Josie had felt the strangest sense of guilt.

She returned to her bedroll. She managed to use her laptop in only the most basic way: grasping a stylus between her fore-hooves and tapping keys like a hunt-and-peck typist. All she could really do was surf the web, and that was becoming more difficult. Pages were taking forever to load as the masses flooded the network for whatever scraps of information they could find. There was also word of swathes of the internet failing from the sheer number of people sick with the flu and simply not reporting to work.

Do not despair, Josie.

Josie leaped into the air, wings beating furiously, her heart racing. Several technicians looked towards her with concern. Josie was about to say something when--

Please, do not call out. Do not disturb your kin.

Josie slowly settled on her hooves. She might have argued that they were not her kin because she was so different, but that argument rang hollow when she cast a concerned gaze over the others.

They are under your protection, Josie. You protect them from the terrors of the dreamscape.

Josie's eyes glistened. She had experienced night terrors on and off between six and ten years of age. Doctors couldn't give her an explanation for what caused them or what would make them go away. Despite not having had one in six years, she lived in fear that they would return.

Even when she could never stop them from happening to her, somehow she could ensure complete peace and safety in the realm of the others' dreams? "H-how ...?"

Hush. No need to speak. For now, just listen.

Josie nodded slowly.

You will learn how to do this in due time. For now, rest assured that they cannot stand up to your power any longer.

Josie let out a quavering breath. To finally, finally be free of them! To never worry again that she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming so loud that her voice was raspy for days. To never feel the embarrassment of an otherwise good-intentioned neighbor phoning the police and her parents having to explain yet again what their daughter was going through.

She wiped a tear from an eye and nodded again.

For now, you need to do something very important, something vital to those under your protection. You have a purpose in being different, and now it will be realized.

Josie's breath hitched as she inhaled, and she sat still.

You will see a vision. A wonderful, positive vision. A vision that will set ponies' minds at ease about the future.

Josie's heart ached to start. All she wanted was to know what she was and what she was supposed to do. She had envied the earth ponies and their strength, the unicorns and their magic, and the pegasi and their weather-shaping skills. They all had some part to play. Surely this was hers.

For a moment, however, she hesitated. She remembered Fred's words earlier, about finding her own destiny. She had wanted to protest that it was easier for him to say that. He had some idea what he could do.

What would be the harm in seeing this vision? Sunny was right in that their old talents were no longer matched to their new abilities. She needed to know what she could do first before she could decide on what she could accept as a purpose.

"I'm ready," Josie whispered.

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and let it go.

Josie complied, and at once, she felt a calm settle over her.

You can sense them now.

The dreamscape opened up before her, a vast dark velvet blue realm of countless branching corridors descending into soft mist. Beyond these veils lay the dreams of ponies not just in the shelter, but in all of Lazy Pines. They were hers to guide and help.

Now you understand.

The revelation was so strong it almost hurt. She had been freed from her demons of the night, and now she could help keep them at bay for others as well.

Have you a connection to them now?

Had she been told what would happen, she would have complained that it was simply too many ponies for her to handle, yet now she sensed a strong connection to each one. She was more ready to do something than she ever was in her life. She nodded.

Then we begin ...





Laura stands in a forest, dappled sunlight playing along the ground. Birds sing in the branches, and the breeze is warm and pleasant. She should have not a care in the world in such an idyllic setting, yet something feels out of place. Her ears draw back as she sees she is alone.

She extends her wings and flies forward, and her ears rise as she hears something ahead. Hope blossoms, and as the trees fall away, she sees a small community. Earth ponies tend ripening crops. Pegasi shape and move clouds across the azure sky. Unicorns use their magic in a variety of ways, either simply passing tools and materials to other ponies, or easing the pain of an injury, or protecting the community from predators with enchantments.

Several unfamiliar ponies converge on her. She is a complete stranger, an outsider, and yet they accept her as their own. She is momentarily overwhelmed with gratitude for this kind gesture, but this is little more than par for the course for them.

She hears an alarmed shout from above. The rain clouds that the pegasi have been carefully shepherding towards the crops have been accidentally triggered over seed stores that need to be kept dry, and the unicorns have not yet finished repairing the leaky roof.

Laura launches herself into the air. She partners with the other pegasi, and they move the cloud to its proper place. They thank her for her help.

A commotion now rises from below, and Laura flies down to investigate. The earth pony at the head of the team minding the crops is having a disagreement with several other ponies. He has just doled out some of his harvest, and the other ponies are complaining about the paltry portion they were given.

Laura arrives in time to hear the other ponies pointing out how great his yield is, and how it is enough to feed everypony properly and have enough left over for the winter. The earth pony is embarrassed, and he quickly increases what he has doled out to the others. They accept their portion, smile, and touch hooves with the farmer pony. They head off, as content as they were before the altercation started.

Another pony appears at the edge of the community, and he is greeted as enthusiastically as Laura was. Yet the ponies of the village are suddenly confused and look at each other and the stranger questioningly. The stranger does not speak their language.

Yet another pony arrives. His language is different yet again, and his mannerisms are indicative of somepony with a different culture as well as tongue. The community is undaunted. They achieve simple understanding in gestures and pictographs drawn upon the ground, and the newcomers are welcomed. They are given food and shelter, and unicorns try to work out how to cross the language and culture barrier.

A warning cry is sounded from the ponies watching the approaches to the village. A large group of ponies is streaming towards them. They are bedraggled, some are injured, many look wary. Something has happened to these poor ponies, and they were not only hurt but on edge.

They need food, shelter, and healing. They will stretch the supplies of the community, and in their weakened state, they could easily be driven off. Instead, the community welcomes them and does everything in their power to help. Already, the more able-bodied among them are asking how they can help as well.

A distressed shout arises from a far corner of the town. Smoke rises from a structure that has caught fire. Laura doesn't hesitate to join her fellow pegasi in conjuring a rain cloud to battle the flames.

Yet the job is not left to them alone. Earth ponies use their strength to break down doors to rescue trapped ponies, while unicorns use spells to prevent the fire from spreading to nearby structures. When the fire is out, Laura assists with the others in checking for ponies who are hurt.

When it is all over, rather than lament the loss of the building, the ponies gather together in the failing light of day to celebrate the birthday of a member of the village, and their voices rise in joy and laughter,

As Laura watches, she hears hooffalls behind her, and a voice says, "What have you learned, Laura?"

She turns around, and her breath catches. Her eyes fall upon a large mare with gleaming white fur, and an ethereal mane and tail of pastel colors that flow as if driven by a gentle wind. She has a long horn like a unicorn, but enormous wings lay folded at her sides.

Laura is too awed by the appearance of this creature to respond at first, but finally she manages, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Think back to everything that happened," the creature says in a motherly tone.

Laura looks back to the community. "I was alone at first, but I didn't want to be."

The mare smiles and nods. "A pony never needs to be alone."

"And the others accepted me without question."

"A stranger is simply a friendship waiting to be made."

"And then the cloud ..." Laura slowly smiles. "A pony always helps her fellow ponies."

"Yes, very good!" the mare says with delight. "What else?"

"The disagreement with the earth pony and the crops," says Laura. "Ponies never hoard, they always try to be as generous as possible."

"And?"

Laura looks thoughtful.

"The reaction of the ponies who felt slighted," the mare prompts gently.

"Ponies always forgive."

"Excellent! Keep going."

"The other strangers who arrived, the ones who didn't speak the language," Laura muses. "They were accepted as well."

The mare nods. "There are no barriers to friendship. What else?"

Laura thinks back to the arrival of the large group. "Pony communities always work together, no matter what the adversity."

The mare smiles. "And?"

Laura glances back to the burned out building. "Ponies always work together?"

"Yes, and every pony has a purpose," the mare says. "There is one more."

Laura looks towards the celebration. "Ponies always enjoy life."

"Yes, indeed."

"What does this all mean?" Laura asks.

"Bring everything together which you have just learned, Laura," says the mare. "You have wondered what purpose lies behind what has happened to you. You and your fellow ponies can do something which so many generations of your ancestors have longed to achieve."

Laura looks back to the community. Already they are beckoning her to rejoin them. She feels an eagerness she has not felt before. Laura looks to the mare. "You mean, ponies everywhere can act like this?"

"Can and should," the mare says. "Do you see now?"

Laura slowly nods. "Yes, I think so."

"You can have a world of peace and plenty," the mare says. "Think of the basic principles you have seen at work. They are actually quite simple: kindness, generosity, loyalty, honesty, and laughter. Think of an entire civilization based on these principles, Laura. This is what you have in your power to create, but you don't have to do it alone."

Laura's eyes glisten as she stares at the community.

"All it takes is faith," the mare says. "Faith in yourself, in your abilities, and in your friends. That's all you need to have a world like this."

For so very long, all Laura wanted was to make up for her failure with Jenny. Now she could go beyond that. She could help remake an entire world. Her eyes tear. She has a purpose now. She could move beyond simply making up for past wrongs.

She needs to know only one thing. "Who are you?"

The mare smiles. "You may refer to me simply as a Celestial Spirit. You have a wonderful life ahead of you, Laura. You have nothing to fear."

Laura smiles as the vision slowly fades to white.





"What have you learned, Jenny?"

Jenny is unperturbed by the appearance of the white winged unicorn, as she appears much closer to Jenny's own vision of such a creature from her fantasies. The creature's appearance is comforting, a sense of the familiar in a landscape filled with novelties.

Jenny is more hesitant than her sister to recount the tenets. She has seen everything Laura did, only with small details changed here and there to account for her being an earth pony instead of a pegasus.

"It's like a fantasy made real," Jenny finally says in a soft voice.

"It is no fantasy, dearest Jenny," the mare says. "What you see can and should be your reality."

Jenny turns towards the mare and thrusts a hoof towards the community. "But this doesn't happen in real life. It never does. Not this well, anyway."

"Now you have the power to change that," the mare says.

"But it's always been about me. I've never helped other ponies like this before."

"And yet you did just now."

Jenny remains silent.

"It is far easier than you think," the mare says. "You've already taken strides in that direction."

Jenny gives her a puzzled look. "I have?"

"Think about how well you now act around your fellow ponies. Think about how they feel about you. Have they not already forgiven you for your past actions?"

Jenny's eyes shimmer. "That's what James told me."

"Think of what you've seen," says the mare. "You were alone, but you didn't have to be. You were the stranger, yet you were accepted ..."

The mare summarizes everything that transpired in Jenny's dream, and Jenny stares at the community with a sense of longing.

"Kindness," the mare says. "Generosity. Loyalty. Honesty. Laughter. It's all here. It's all you need. That, and faith."

"Faith?" Jenny asks.

"Faith in yourself and your friends."

Jenny turns towards the mare. "In my fantasies, I always envisioned a world something like this, like medieval times but without all the disease and hardship. I figured, what was the point of recreating everything that made people miserable?"

The mare smiles. "Exactly! Now you understand. You can make that real. You can live it. You don't need to escape to them anymore, Jenny. They can BE your world."

For the past few days, Jenny wondered if perhaps her fantasies were all there was to her, that she was otherwise empty. Now they have become important again. They are useful again. SHE is useful again.

She looks over the other ponies. Something about it is still a touch surreal, but she feels she can ignore it. She has everything she wanted. She slowly smiles as the vision fades to white.





"What have you learned, Sarah?"

When Sarah first laid eyes on the white mare, she only then realized how different Twilight was from the other ponies. No one in her shelter sported both a horn and wings. She wishes she had been in a better state of mind to ask about it.

She looks back towards the community and remembers when her family first moved to Lazy Pines. For the first few days, neighbors took the time to introduce themselves. It seemed like a nice, friendly town, yet she never bothered to follow up on their kindness and become true friends with them. She even forgot most of their names.

"I isolated myself," Sarah says quietly. "I was always off in my own little world, even with regards to my family."

"A pony never needs to be alone," the mare says. "That goes for you as well as others."

Sarah looks towards the mare. "I haven't wanted to be alone anymore."

The mare smiles. "Very good. You are starting to understand."

"Is that what all this is supposed to mean?" Sarah asks. "That we're all supposed to come together like this?"

"Is it not the ideal situation? How else would you have constant support and encouragement? Isn't that what you always wanted?"

Sarah lets out a shaky sigh. She remembers the flood of emotions when Twilight confirmed her theories. Encouragement was severely lacking until that moment.

"You'll never be a stranger again, Sarah, only a friendship that has not been made yet ..."

As the mare recounts the other points of Sarah's experience, she is reminded of what Twilight told her. Another pony has turned them into something that they weren't before. Is this creature before her the real form of Sunset Shimmer? Sarah struggles to see the mare in this light. She seems kind and gentle, more of a guide than anything else.

"Are these not things you would wish for your family?" the mare asks. "Would you not want your family to show kindness?"

Sarah faces the mare fully. "Of course I do."

"Do you not wish them to understand generosity or loyalty?"

"Perhaps we have our faults, but I have always felt we strove for such things."

The mare nods. "Of course you have, Sarah. Just as I am sure you have taught them honesty."

"Yes, of course!"

"What about laughter?"

Sarah glances back at the celebration. "I don't understand."

"Life should never be so hard that there is little room for laughter," says the mare.

Sarah's eyes shimmer as she thinks back to all the stress, all the arguments, all the strife. She lets out another sigh. "Maybe that has been in short supply lately."

"It never has to be again. Not when you can count on your fellow ponies."

Sarah looks back to the mare. "But is this all there is? What of what I want? My career. My life's work."

"It doesn't have to define you anymore."

"I know. I just ... I want to decide my own destiny."

The mare smiles. "You still can. You simply need to accommodate a bigger picture. Do you not research how ancient societies work? Have you not seen how communities working together leads to a more successful civilization?"

Sarah remains silent.

"You will be living your life's work. Every pony has a purpose, Sarah. You will find yours very soon."

Sarah tries to keep Twilight's reassurances at the fore, but she still can't deny how she feels like she has neglected her family all this time. Perhaps there is time to remedy that and pursue her work. Maybe it doesn't have to be either one or the other but not both.

She feels a sense of hope as the landscape fades to white.





"What have you learned, Harold?"

Harold stares at the community for a long moment, his heart aching. "I miss the farm," he says in a low voice.

The mare tilts her head. "Indeed?"

Harold lets out a long breath. "This is the first time I've thought about it this way in a long time. All I could see was that final big blowup with my Dad. I had convinced myself that was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with me staying on the farm."

The mare steps closer. "Does this vision remind you of the farm?"

Harold's eyes glisten. "God, yes, it does. We knew the name of every neighbor. We knew their families. We kept each other apprised of everything that was happening, both the good and the bad. We never hesitated to help."

"Kindness and generosity in great abundance," the mare says softly.

"Yeah, it was."

"What about loyalty and honesty, Harold?" says the mare. "What do they invoke in you?"

Harold turns towards her. "Leaving the farm wasn't about a lack of loyalty."

"No, it wasn't. Consider honesty, then."

Harold lowers his gaze. "You don't have to tell me twice that I haven't exactly been honest with myself."

"But it doesn't have to be that way anymore," says the mare. "You have no need to hide what you feel when you're among friends, and a pony is always among friends."

Harold glances back to the community. The bit about the building catching fire hit him right in the gut. A neighbor had a barn go up, and his father dove right in to help, earning a permanent scar on one cheek when a burning timber struck him. He considered it a mark of honor.

"Do not despair, Harold. Your loyalty to your family is without question, and now you can truly protect them as you always wanted, for you will have a vast network of friends to call upon, just like your days on the farm." The mare smiles. "But never forget laughter."

Harold looks back to the mare. "Laughter?"

"Life is to be enjoyed. Do not dwell on past mistakes. They no longer matter. All that matters is the future."

Harold slowly nods as everything fades to white. "I'll try, I really will."





"What have you learned, Fred?"

Fred thinks back to his days in the army. Never in his life had he felt such a sense of belonging. The men he commanded were not just soldiers doing a job, they were his close friends. Yet this brought him full circle to the little girl who took all that away, and the pony supposedly behind it.

Fred turned to face the mare. "First and foremost, I'm a soldier. The last twenty years don't count, as I have no idea who or what that person was that went around using my name. Do I like what I see here? Yeah, I do. But what else is there for me? Where do I fit in?"

The mare smiles. "You say you are a soldier, so you know what loyalty means."

"Damn straight I do."

"And kindness?"

"Killing enemy soldiers is not exactly being kind," Fred says in a low voice. "Necessary, maybe, but sure as hell not kind."

"And what of your attitude towards the local people you are protecting?" the mare asks. "Is that not kindness? Do you not also feel generosity towards them when you can?"

"But that's the locals, the innocents," says Fred. "It makes sense to act that way towards them."

"Then what about a world with no enemies to fight, Fred? Can you see how that is possible now?"

Fred takes a deep breath. "You sure do paint a rosy picture,"

"There is no need for it to be anything but." The mare points a wing at the celebration. "Have you not seen such things even in the midst of war?"

"Yeah," Fred says softly. "Villages had all sorts of ceremonies and celebrations and whatnot that they invited us to."

"Then you know of laughter," says the mare. "Why not continue to experience that outside of war? Why does there need to be war?"

Fred has no immediate response.

"Let's come to the last one," the mare says. "Honesty."

Fred's gaze snaps up, and he narrows his eyes.

"Be honest with yourself, Fred. Do you truly wish a world where soldiers are needed, or would you prefer something like this, where you can play to your other strengths that do not require killing?"

Fred looks back towards the community. "So let me get this straight. You're saying that all we need to do is act like this, believe in these tenets of yours, and everything will come together into a paradise of friendship and happiness."

The mare smiles. "Yes, exactly."

Fred continues to stare at the other ponies as the word "honesty" repeats in his head. He has to ask himself: just how much honesty has he been subjected to in the past twenty years when an alien pony messed with his head?

Fred turns back to the mare.

"Horseshit."
> Chapter 42 - The Sun Sets At Dawn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sandra rushed into the conference room Friday morning. "We're getting reports from every shelter in town with fully transformed patients. Twilight was right, they all experienced some sort of vision, and now they can't stop talking about it."

"What's the nature of this vision?" Anthony asked.

Sandra consulted her folder as she sat down. "All we have right now is what the technicians are overhearing, as we haven't yet started any formal interviews. The gist of it is, they were all shown how a proper pony society should be structured." She looked up. "Some are treating it as a religious experience."

Starlight frowned. "I really hope that doesn't lead to creepy shrines like the one Sunset created back in Equestria."

"So I assume the so-called night ponies were involved?" Anthony asked.

"The night shift reported that patient Josie Woods was acting unusual," Sandra explained. "She's one of the membrane-winged patients Twilight referred to as night ponies."

"So how do we stop this from spreading?"

"That's going to be tricky," said Twilight.

"I know you don't want to alert Sunset to your plans," said Anthony. "But after this morning, that becomes a moot point."

"I might be able to set up a sort of psychic shield," said Starlight. "But no guarantees."

"Please try. The last thing we need is the transformed being brainwashed even further."

"This doesn't appear to be direct mind control," said Sandra.

"I believe Sunset was counting on manipulating a social dynamic rather than minds," said Twilight. "Our Princess Luna can enter ponies' dreams and direct them to some extent, and we don't consider that brainwashing."

"That's really a fine line you're treading, in my view," said Anthony.

"Let's not debate the point now, please, until we know more," said Twilight. "Sandra, did any of them report seeing a figure of some sort?"

"Yes," said Sandra. "A large white alicorn with a pastel-colored mane and tail."

"I reiterate my worry about shrines," muttered Starlight.

"It sounds like Sunset used an image of Princess Celestia in the vision," said Twilight.

"Isn't that the name of your present ruler?" Anthony asked.

"Yes, and I can assure you, Mr. Heller, she most definitely does not want to be an object of worship, either in Equestria or here. Sunset may have used Celestia simply because she looks like no other pony."

"My agent in the shelter where Miss Sommers is located is reporting that a lively discussion is going on," said Anthony. "We should launch Operation Red Dusk while she's distracted as we had planned. The SWAT team is already in position and the hidden recording equipment is set up."

Twilight turned to Starlight. "Do you have your unmarking spell ready?"

"As ready as it will ever be," said Starlight.

"All right. You head to the mine entrance. I'm going to Sunset's home to set the teleport trap."

"Will the recon you did last night help you in getting past her wards?" Anthony asked.

"Yes, I've devised a way to teleport directly into her basement. She likely has all her magical items hidden in that one place. She'll still know I'm there, but that's what we want to happen."

"How long do you need to find the artifacts she stole and set up the trap?"

"Two minutes," said Twilight. "Sunset must be stopped from teleporting to her home too soon. She's likely going to want to keep up the ruse of being a transformed human by finding a private place to teleport away. Keeping her in constant sight as long as possible should do the trick."

"I imagine she would use a bathroom for cover," said Kevin. "It's about the only place a patient has any privacy right now."

"We came to that conclusion as well," said Anthony. "We're prepared for that."

"Once Sunset teleports into her basement, I should have her teleported to the mine entrance within seconds," said Twilight. "Then I'm hoping you'll start hearing more proof than you could ever need."

"The serum that Twilight helped us create to keep Sunset subdued has also been deployed," said Sandra.

"I'm ready to help deal with any fallout of Sunset disappearing from the shelter," said Kevin. "I know Laura Tanner personally and might be able to help if she gets distressed about her close friend having suddenly left. I also want to help with the plans to get the fully transformed patients out of the shelters."

Anthony frowned slightly. "Is it wise to go ahead with that plan in light of the vision?"

"It's even more imperative," said Twilight. "The only way you're going to get ponies with a strong herd mentality to change their mind about something so powerful is to get them together and address them as a whole. I've already started to jot down talking points if you're willing to let me address them."

"We'll revisit that later," said Anthony. "Twilight, you're good to go. Everyone else is in position, and we have a car ready for Starlight."

Sandra's phone buzzed. She took it out and turned away from the others.

Twilight nodded and turned to Starlight. "I'm not going to risk alerting Sunset by giving you any sort of signal. You're going to have to use your best judgment as to when you think it's a lost cause."

Starlight nodded. "Got it."

Twilight placed a hoof on Starlight's shoulder. "But, please, give me a chance to reach her. I don't want to give up hope."

"I'll do my best, Twilight, but I won't take the chance she'll hurt you in any way."

Twilight slowly smiled and gave Starlight a brief hug.

Starlight started to turn away. "Okay, let's get this show on the--"

"Wait!" Sandra exclaimed. "Star Singer is awake!"

"What?!" Twilight cried.

"One moment she was still catatonic, the next she was alert and talking urgently in her native language. We're having trouble keeping her in the room."

"I need to talk to her!"

"Twilight, we don't have time!" Starlight said.

"I agree with Starlight," said Anthony. "We have to move now. We can't guarantee how long Sunset will remain distracted."

"Fred Turner is in that shelter," Twilight said. "I'm confident that he's having a vigorous debate with her right now. I have to know what Star Singer saw. How fast can we arrange to have her taken to the mine entrance?"

"Five minutes."

"Then let's do that. I can teleport directly to Star Singer's room from here, and then directly to Sunset's house from there. I can do this, Mr. Heller."

Anthony considered. "All right, I'll inform the others that you may be delayed, but please hurry."

Twilight nodded, her horn flashed, and she disappeared in a pop of imploding air.





"Don't you understand me?!" Star Singer cried. "Doesn't anyone understand even a single syllable of Equestrian around here?!"

Normally Star would know it was foolish to expect that the natives would know her language, but absolutely nothing was normal about her experience. She knew Twilight had a translation spell so she could learn the native language, but she had hoped perhaps Twilight had done the reverse. Perhaps Twilight had not expected Star Singer to come out of her trance this soon.

Star had already tried to escape once, but the natives had overpowered her. She tried using her magic to grab objects and swat at the natives until they relented, but she was still too weak from her experience, and she didn't want to risk hurting anyone.

"Do you understand the name Twilight Sparkle?" Star Singer said. "Twilight. Sparkle. Surely you recognize that? She's supposed to be working with you!"

That was her other fear, that Twilight had not managed to convince the natives that she was on their side. For all she knew, Twilight was being incarcerated somewhere. Not that the natives had the power to keep her there, but knowing how big-hearted to the point of impracticality Twilight could be, Star wouldn't be surprised if Twilight had submitted to it anyway.

Star finally lowered her muzzle to the bed and crossed her forelegs over her head. "Ugh, this is getting us nowhere."

She heard a loud pop, and a startled cry from the natives. She jerked her head up and gasped. "Twilight!"

Twilight rushed forward and spoke in Equestrian. "Star Singer, are you all right?"

"Nothing at all is right!" Star cried. "Sunset is making a huge mistake. I know that now for sure. You have to listen to me!"

"So you did get a vision? Was it really a magic-eating monster like Tirek?"

"That's not even the half of it!" Star blinked. "Wait, how did you know what my vision was?"

"I'll explain later, I don't have a lot of time," said Twilight. "And I don't have time to listen to every detail of your vision."

"But this is important!" Star yelled. "You have to know!"

"Sunset has to know as well, and you'll have a chance very soon to tell her yourself. The natives have arranged for you to be taken to where I'm going to confront Sunset."

Star's pupils shrank. "Y-you're really going to do it? You're going to fight her?"

"Not quite in the way you might think," said Twilight. "I'm hoping not at all, not if you can tell her what you saw, especially if it was so bad it sent you into a healing trance."

"That's what I mean about my vision not being even half the story. I was purposely put into a trance by another entity, a benevolent one who may be far, far older than even Princess Celestia."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Heavens, how long as this universe existed??"

"Almost fourteen billion years," Star Singer deadpanned. "We're dealing with scales unimaginable. Even after a long conversation with this entity, I'm still struggling to wrap my head around it."

"As much as this is very fascinating, Star Singer, I have to go," said Twilight. "Please, go willingly with the natives when they take you out of here. They're sending someone over right now. I'll make sure to keep Sunset talking until you get there."

Star Singer nodded. "I'll do my best. And ... um ... thank you."

"For what?"

"For trusting me as far as you did. I didn't exactly live up to that trust when I first came through the portal."

Twilight smiled. "We all had our impressions of Sunset to get past to see her plans for what they really are. What matters is, we may still have a chance to stop this."

"I'll certainly try."

Twilight nodded and drew back. She said something to the others in their language before retreating from them and teleporting away. The natives simply stared at the space formerly occupied by the alicorn princess.

"Well, just don't stand there," Star said as she hopped out of bed. "Let's get going!"





"You had the same dream!" Emma cried excitedly to Laura. "Oh my God!"

"I did, too," Joan said. "I even saw the same figure, the big white mare with the long horn and huge wings."

Kelly rushed over, her eyes wide. "You saw her, too?!"

"Oh God," Emma murmured. "Ohgodohgod ..."

"This is what we all wanted, wasn't it?" Joan said. "Laura, you were the first one to say it, that there had to be some sort of grand purpose behind this. Well, this is it."

"I-I know, I did say that," Laura said in a shaky voice. "I just wasn't expecting it to come like this."

"This can't be a fluke," said Kelly. "How can it be if every last pony had the same dream and saw the same figure?"

"They can't keep us cooped up in here any longer after this," said Emma's father.

"Damn right they can't," murmured Joan's husband.

"They're right," said Emma. "We have to be allowed to live as we want. As we should."

"I agree with Emma," said Sadie with a smile. "This is exactly what we've all been waiting for, some sort of sign or purpose. I think this is very clearly it."

"We can do this," Joan said. "I know we can. We've all been thinking the same thing anyway, that they can't keep caring for us. We were meant to work together and support each other."

"I lost an older brother in some stupid war in the Mideast," Kelly said in a bitter voice. "You think that's gonna happen again in a world like that?"

"Not a chance," said Sadie. "Not with everypony knowing that we should work together for our own common good."

"We're talking world peace," Joan said. "Two world wars have been fought, and I doubt we'd ever survive a third. This is a chance to avoid that."

"Everypony, please!" Laura exclaimed. "I know this was very profound and very important, but we have to stop and think first about what exactly we're going to do next."

"Well, well, well," said Fred as he trotted up. "A voice of reason. Finally."

All eyes turned to him. "Fred, what do you mean?" Laura asked.

"You're calling on ponies to think," said Fred. "Something which has been in short supply since everypony woke up this morning."

Sadie raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" Emma said in a cross voice.

"This is what I was going on about yesterday with Chris from the grocery store," said Fred. "Focusing on your own ideas about what you want to do with your life."

"To me, it seems ponies are quite in agreement with what they want to do," said Sadie.

"I see agreement, yeah. What I don't see is a lot of realism."

"But isn't the need to come together as a community to help each other a realistic goal?" Joan asked.

"I'm not saying it's not a great idea. Yeah, Laura's right, we can't keep expecting people to take care of us. I certainly don't want to be a freeloader. I got four good, strong hooves and the willingness to use them."

"Then what is your objection, if I may ask?" said Sadie.

"What I object to is everypony treating this as some kind of Second Coming," said Fred. "Now, I don't want to get into religious matters with you folks, I'm just using that as an example most will be familiar with."

"Fred, the figure in my dream never called herself divine," said Laura.

"I know. That's what makes me suspicious of the whole thing."

"But something like this has never happened before," said Emma.

"Think for a moment," Fred said. "You all started wondering 'what is the purpose behind this?' and, bam! You suddenly get one. I used to be a soldier. When recon tells me something funny is going on, I pay attention."

"Except there is no enemy to 'recon' here," said Sadie. "I'm sure you're very proud of your military record, but wouldn't you want a world where that's not needed anymore?"

"You kidding me? I'd love it. Only a complete psychopath wants to kill. World peace? Maybe that's what this is. I'm not saying we shouldn't pursue that."

"Then I honestly don't understand your objection."

"We may be a herd, but that doesn't mean we have to be herded," said Fred. "And that's what I feel like somepony is doing to us, maybe this Celestial Spirit pony from our dreams."

"We all seek wisdom when we need it," said Sadie. "I don't think this is any different. Does it matter what form it ... um ..."

She suddenly trailed off, her eyes widening.

"I think Sunny has a point, Fred," Laura said gently. "I'm not about to worship the creature from my dream, but I can't ignore her message. Not only did it appear to everypony, but it spoke to my own personal struggles."

Fred looked over the others. Even with as expressive as pony faces were, he couldn't tell whether he was getting through to them. They were at least still listening, so he supposed that was a plus. "I agree with you, Laura, that something bigger is going on. My point is, we need to make sure we're doing what we want to do, and because it makes sense, and not because a shared dream told us it's right."

"What's the difference if the end result is the same?" Kelly muttered.

"Maybe the difference is subtle, and it's lost on most of you," Fred said in a low voice. "But here's the thing: I know what it's like to spend a chunk of my life doing something because I thought I was driven by some sort of vision, even if it was mostly self-supplied. Anypony who knows how nuts I was before I gained hooves saw how well that worked out for me."

Laura appeared to pause in thought. "Sunny, what do you think about Fred's point?" Laura turned her head when she got no immediate response. "Sunny, are you okay?"

Sadie gave her an uneasy smile. "My apologies, Laura, I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable."

Fred narrowed his eyes.

"I believe my dinner disagreed with me last night, and I need to use the bathroom quite urgently."

"Oh, Sunny, I'm so sorry!" said Laura. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Ah, not really, I just may be indisposed for a bit."

"Too bad," said Fred with a small grin. "I was enjoying the debate."

Sadie smiled tightly. "I will respond to your last point, however. I do feel you are over-thinking it. We've been given a shared vision of a positive future. Even if somepony specific was behind this, I think we can agree she has only our best interests at heart."

Fred nodded slowly.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," said Sadie before she galloped off.

Fred caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over to the technicians. One pointed to Sadie and spoke urgently with a colleague. The colleague nodded, and he and several other technicians broke ranks and headed after Sadie. One of the technicians left behind took out a cell phone and spoke very briefly into it before putting it away.

Fred stepped away from the others and looked in the direction Sadie had gone. "Sunset Shimmer, I presume."





Twilight materialized in the basement of Sunset's home in a flash of light, saddlebags draped over her barrel. A split second later, a second blast of light from her horn disabled all spells hiding anything from both magical and mundane senses. At once the runic circle and the biological analysis apparatus appeared, but when she swept her gaze about, that was all it had revealed.

Twilight sighed. She had hoped not to have to do this the hard way.

She lighted her horn and began to pace about the basement, hooves clopping distinctly against the concrete floor. She had allotted herself only thirty seconds to find Sunset's stash of magical devices. She was sure it had to be here; Sunset would not want to track multiple hiding places if she ever feared somepony might traverse the portal again.

"Twenty-five seconds," Twilight murmured as she swung her head from side to side.

She found nothing at the end where the stairs descended from the upper floors. She started towards the other end.

"Twenty seconds."

She passed the runic circle and approached the furnace.

"Fifteen seconds." Her horn suddenly flickered, and she stopped. "It's here!"

She looked down. Just barely visible was a faint square. To mundane eyes, it was scratched into the floor. To her senses, she saw it for what it was: a secret compartment.

She backed away, and she levitated the square slab of concrete up, its sides having been magically coated with a glass-smooth surface so it would fit perfectly with the similarly prepared cutout in the floor. As the slab lifted out of place, the thaumic shield imbued inside it could no longer hide the object of her search.

Twilight was about to set the slab down when she detected the trap spell and stopped with it barely a hoof-span from the floor. "Oh, very clever, Sunset," she murmured. "But not quite clever enough."

The slab was very heavy, so much that it had to be artificially so. Most unicorns couldn't handle levitating that much weight and plunder the contents of the compartment at the same time. Had she set it down, a trap spell would have activated and wasted more precious time. Twilight held the slab aloft with ease while she levitated out of the compartment a golden statue of a griffon in armor, then a plastic bag containing three dozen enchanted gems and crystals. She was about to replace the slab when she spotted something else at the bottom.

Twilight knew she was running out of time, but when she saw the runes written on one of the pages, she had to know what it was. She levitated it out as well before carefully replacing the slab. Her eyes widened as she shuffled through them.

"A spell to create a magical energy conduit? And with a permanent enchantment, no less." Her eyes tracked down the page. "Thaumic entanglement? Yes, of course, that makes perfect--" She stopped and sighed. "You're getting distracted, Twilight, just stick to the--" Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "No, wait, that's it! That's how we can solve the problem of mass-casting the counterspell! And the crystal ponies are indeed the key to it all!"

She quickly rolled up the pages and placed them in her saddlebags along with the device and the artifacts. She now had less time to set up her teleportation trap than expected, but she dearly hoped the delay would be worth it in the end.





"Miss Sommers! Miss Sommers, wait!"

Sunset had no time to wait; the longer she took to get to Twilight, the greater the chance Twilight had to unlock the portal. She was reasonably sure even somepony of Twilight's skill would take some time to figure it out, but she didn't want to take any chances.

At the same time, she had to be cautious and not raise any suspicions. She came to a stop and turned around. "Please, make this quick! I really have to go to the bathroom."

"That's part of our concern, Miss Sommers," said the technician. "You were heading off rather fast, we wanted to make sure there wasn't a problem."

"Something simply disagreed with me, that's all," said Sunset. "I had that happen to me sometimes before I became a pony."

The technicians approached her, arranging themselves in a semi-circle around her. "We're still working out the details of a proper pony diet," said one. "We should take a stool sample and test it to rule out any food poisoning or similar ill effects."

"Normally I would gladly comply," Sunset said as she started backing up. "But I would much rather have a bit of privacy. I think we've all earned that by now."

"Nevertheless, you're still officially a patient."

"I thought some sort of arrangement was being made for our release."

"I can't really speak to that, ma'am, but until that point in time, you're still a patient."

Sunset peered at them warily. Were they following her as she retreated? "In that case, I do believe I have rights as a patient, which means I cannot be subjected to tests against my will."

"That is very true, ma'am, and we're asking you to comply for your own--"

"Sorry, some other time!" Sunset said before she galloped away. She cast a glance behind her and uttered a small sigh of relief when she saw they were not pursuing her. While she was happy that they continued to care for the welfare of their transformed brethren, she thought that a bit too aggressive.

She rounded a corner, only to skid to a stop. She stared, then face-hoofed. "You've got to be kidding me!"

The door to the ladies' room was blocked open, and a red cone stood in the opening. A crudely written sign taped to the door frame read "OUT OF ORDER," and the sound of banging upon metal could be heard within.

Sunset frowned. She considered using the men's room instead, but she didn't want to risk the workers seeing her. She instead dashed down the hall towards the stairs to use the one on the upper floor like they had to the day when Kelly accidentally broke the shower control and caused a flood.

Two National Guard soldiers halted her. "I'm sorry, ma'am, the rest of the building is off limits."

"I need the use of the bathroom," Sunset said in an exasperated voice.

"You're free to use the men's room in the interim."

"That's not what you did last time," Sunset said. "You escorted ponies who needed the restroom to the second floor and then escorted them back."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have my orders."

Sunset narrowed her eyes. This was getting ridiculous enough to be suspicious. She had started to feel uneasy when Fred Turner spoke out. He seemed to be going out of his way to be contrary, as if he had been put up to it. That thought made the need to get to her house all the more urgent.

"Very well," said Sunset as she turned away. She cantered over to the men's room and pushed open the door with her fore-hoof. Of course, it was occupied. A technician stood at the sink combing his hair. That was odd, also, as they tended to use a separate set of facilities.

Sunset headed into one of the stalls. Makeshift ramps had been installed as an aid to the transformed, as human toilets were not built with little ponies in mind. At least this meant that all four of her hooves would be off the floor and not visible to someone outside.

She closed the stall door, climbed the ramp, and cast a silence spell. She vanished in a largely quiet concussion of teleportation magic.





"Okay, Twilight, you can do this," Twilight whispered as she tweaked the ley lines of the teleportation trap one last time. She was taking a big chance with her approach. She couldn't risk Sunset having any reaction time whatsoever. Even something as simple as a shield would disrupt the spell. She had to tie the trap directly to her teleportation spell, such that it would trigger of its own accord without any thought from her.

Tinkering with the teleportation spell was generally very high up on the list of Things You're Never Supposed To Do Even If You Think You Know What You're Doing. Most unicorn mages who taught the spell cautioned that it was the one spell that should be memorized, cast perfectly, and left well enough alone otherwise.

The self-imposed deadline of two minutes had passed, and Twilight still was not completely satisfied with her work. Her heart pounded as she adjusted yet another ley line, and she finally forced herself to call it good. Her teachers back at the school for gifted unicorns would have likely fainted if they had seen what she had done, alicorn or no.

When it did happen, it happened in the blink of an eye.

Sunset appeared, and before the sound wave from the displaced air could reach Twilight's ears, her teleportation spell activated. Her horn flashed, and Twilight's stomach twisted like it had that very first time she had successfully teleported. Hooves that had stood on concrete just a moment before now lay upon bare dirt. She splayed them out to steady herself, and her gorge threatened to rise.

By the time she had recovered, an angry Sunset exclaimed, "What did you just do? Where did you send us?!"

Twilight took a deep breath to steady herself. They stood along the remnants of a dirt road, several pines towering over them. The road turned towards a ridge just past where a "DEAD END" sign had been erected. The road dipped out of view not too far along, thus the actual entrance to the abandoned mine was not visible. "A safe distance away from the town," she said in a level voice. "That's all you need to know right now."

Sunset's eyes narrowed, and her horn glowed as she looked around.

"Don't waste the magic," Twilight said as she approached. "There's no charms, enchantments, or other traps. I just want to talk."

The glow of Sunset's horn faded. "Can you blame me for being suspicious, Twily? You just successfully sprang a trap on me. If this had been any other context, I'd be seriously impressed."

"I didn't want to take the chance of hurting the natives."

"Don't play dumb with me," said Sunset. "You think I can't detect what you filched from my house? Have you been so badly corrupted against me that you'd resort to stealing?"

"I have not been corrupted," Twilight declared. "You still don't get it. I never grew up the way you intended because I didn't remember you existed. If you want the absolute truth, I don't like what Celestia did, either, but I understand why she did it."

"She stole your destiny from you," Sunset snapped. "You could be standing here beside me, helping me instead of trying to stop me. If anypony could've figured out what I was doing and why, it would be you."

"And who are you to decide my destiny for me? Like you're trying to do for an entire species!"

Sunset sighed. "This again."

"I don't understand, Auntie, I really don't," said Twilight. "That you can brush off the hopes and aspirations of an entire civilization like it's nothing."

"I had this conversation with Star Singer," Sunset said. "I am not brushing it off. I am quite impressed with what this species has done. They have created an amazing civilization without magic. That is an incredible accomplishment, and I admire them greatly."

"You have a strange way of showing it," said Twilight.

"Nothing is perfect, Twily, and that includes this species. Everything can be improved. Even they understand that! Did you know that as little as two hundred years ago, they kept their fellow natives as slaves? Now slavery is repugnant to them. They improved themselves."

"Yes, they did it. By their own choice. You're taking that choice away from them!"

Sunset narrowed her eyes. "You know what my reasons are for doing this, Twily. You think I got up one morning and decided to be a crazy mad scientist who changes aliens into ponies for fun? I'm trying to benefit two worlds."

"I would rather let Equestria die than have it be remembered for what you're doing to this species!"

Sunset's mouth dropped open. "Twily ... you can't mean that."

"You have your convictions, but I have mine as well," Twilight declared. "I'm dedicated to the cause of friendship. Did you ever think that maybe if you had been as well, you could've approached these natives, offered them the ability to become ponies and use magic, explained the potential benefits of it, and let them decide for themselves if they wanted it or not? You might have been pleasantly surprised."

Twilight doubted that any significant chunk of humanity would willingly do such a thing, but she hoped to work in the context of Sunset's mindset. She also surmised that there might be more people like Eileen who would come to think this would solve all their problems.

"Do you really believe I could risk that?" said Sunset. "This planet is divided into over two hundred nation-states. They can't agree on anything. By the time they finished debating it in committee or fighting some pointless war over it, it could be too late."

"This planet has a rich, diverse culture, and you're throwing it away."

"I am taking the accomplishments of this species into account," said Sunset in an exasperated voice. "I tried to explain this to Star Singer. I am not replacing, I am improving. While it's true that all their technology will be initially useless to them, it won't be long before they turn back to it, adjust it, combine it with magic, and forge something truly incredible. This universe is vast, Twily. Countless suns with planets like this around them. This species longs to go to those planets, but their technology goes only so far. What if they could solve the distance limitation of teleportation? They could invent interstellar travel. They could colonize the entire galaxy! The entire universe! Enough pony magic for eons!"

A new voice joined them. "You're wrong, Sunset. Dead wrong."

Sunset whirled around and gasped. "Star Singer!" She started towards the bedraggled unicorn mare. "I was worried about you. Are you--?"

"Stay away from me!" Star Singer shouted. "You're utterly mad, and I don't want anything to do with you anymore!"

Sunset's pupils shrank. "Star, you don't mean that," she said in a small voice.

"I had that vision you were so enamored of me seeing," Star said in an intensely bitter voice. "I saw more than I ever wanted."

"You saw the threat."

"The only threat around here is you."

Sunset cast a level look at Star. "I don't understand. Are you telling me that I fail?"

Star narrowed her eyes. "No. You succeed. All too well."

"You're not making any sense."

Star marched up to Sunset. "Then I'll explain it to you. You don't understand as much about the natives as you think you do. You think they'll turn back to their technology after you create your little happy pony society. They won't."

Sunset gave her a surprised look. "What?"

"I don't know what the specific reason will be," said Star. "It could be that you dialed up their herd instinct too high. Or whatever vision you plan to give them is just a little too good. Or it could be the reason why they pursue more advanced technology: to improve their lives. They might perceive magic as improving their lives so much that they don't need technology anymore."

"Assuming I believe you interpreted your vision correctly," said Sunset. "Should it matter? It would indeed be a supreme disappointment if they didn't combine magic and technology, but ponykind would still be served."

"And again, you're wrong," Star cried. "You're condemning this species to death. It will attract the Devourers."

Sunset stared. "The what? What the hay are they?"

"A terrible mistake," Star said in a subdued voice. "Or a terrible crime, depending on your point of view. An ancient technological civilization, one of the first to arise, became so advanced they discovered magic. And they feared it. They believed it could destroy their entire civilization, and when they found more magic in the universe, they feared for their existence. They created the Devourers. They consume magic."

"So did Tirek," Sunset deadpanned. "He had his limits, he was just too stupidly arrogant to realize it."

"These don't have that limit, or they worked around it," said Star. "After feeding, they give off unimaginably powerful beams of light."

"Yes, of course," said Twilight. "It's like how light is a waste product of magic use. It would be the equivalent of excreting waste after a meal."

"The ironic thing is that the natives have already detected evidence of them, and if you want proof, Sunset, go look up <gamma ray bursts>," said Star, briefly dropping into English. "Even a tiny handful of the weapons of a technological civilization can destroy one of these things, but they're completely invisible to detection to non-magicals and can't harm a technological world unless they're unlucky enough to get caught in the beams. Magic can detect them but is powerless to stop them."

"You've already made me suspicious on two counts," said Sunset. "First, you knew a phrase of a native tongue describing a phenomenon that -- I might add -- already has theories behind it that do not involve magic-eating monsters. Second, your vision is far more detailed than they ever have been."

"Yes, they have theories, and they're not wrong," said Star. "They simply don't cover every case. And as for my other knowledge, I didn't get them from a vision. I got it from Triss."

"Triss?" Twilight asked. "Is this is the entity you mentioned to me?"

"Yes," Star said in a subdued voice. "She's another magical race's equivalent of an alicorn. Her world was the first magical civilization and one of the first to fall to these things. She doesn't think there's been a magical race since then that's Ascended."

"What of the civilization that created the Devourers?"

"Long dead, but the Devourers live on," said Star. "Literally. They're some sort of self-sustaining -- maybe even self-replicating -- organic technology."

Twilight gasped in horror. "Oh, heavens." She turned to Sunset. "Do you understand now the scope of what you've done?! If you won't listen to reason concerning the morality of transforming a species against its will, then consider this instead!"

Sunset remained silent, her gaze downcast.

Twilight stepped closer. "I want to think there's some compassion in you, Auntie. You can't condemn a species to death. This is not just some philosophical point that you can talk around by claiming you're changing only their bodies. This is real death. Are you ready to condemn a future generation of your own kind to obliteration just to satisfy your ideas of what you think ponykind needs?"

Sunset was silent for another long moment before she finally raised her eyes to Twilight. "I want to ask you a question," she said in a low voice. "Have you ever had a problem you deemed unsolvable? Something you simply stopped working on because no solution appeared in sight?"

Twilight hesitated. "Not that I can remember."

"So why should we consider this one unsolvable?"

Twilight stared. "You can't be serious! It's not the same thing!"

"Why not?" Sunset demanded.

"I solve problems that have clear, attainable goals. This is barely either!"

"Twilight, this universe is huge. Unless these creatures can violate light speed limitations -- which is highly unlikely if they're a product of a technological civilization -- it could be thousands if not millions of years before they get here. More than enough time to think of a solution."

"You're not getting it!" Star exploded. "Triss has seen these other civilizations rise and fall. She's even personally warned them. Nopony ever came up with a solution. What makes you think you can succeed -- countless generations after you're dead and gone -- where so many other entire races have failed? Are you that full of yourself that you think you alone can solve it?"

"Don't take me for a fool, Star," Sunset snapped. "I get it. Magic can't stop them. I shall remind you this world started off as a technological civilization."

"Which they'll abandon."

"Then I shall make sure they don't," Sunset declared. "I owe a great debt to you, Star Singer. You did indeed expose a flaw in my plan. I simply need to adjust--"

And again, things happened in a split-second, but a split-second too long.

Twilight had no idea what had gone wrong. Perhaps Sunset had sensed the casting, or the thaumic power conversion leading up to the spell execution, or simply the unusual nature of the spell. The dismaying end result was all that mattered: when the beam from Starlight's horn converged on Sunset, it was met with a shield.

Starlight didn't stop. She clenched her teeth, splayed her hooves to steady herself, and continued pouring on the power.

"Whoever you are, you can't stand up against my shield for long!" Sunset exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah?" Starlight called out in a strained voice. "We'll see about that! I almost bested Twilight once, I can take you."

"What manner of spell is this?!"

"What, you and your ginormous ego can't figure that out?"

"Have it your way," Sunset snarled. "If you want a fight, I'll give you one."

"BRING IT ON!" Starlight roared.

Twilight gasped as she heard distant cracks, and bright pinpoints of light flared off Sunset's shield very close to her fur until she poured more magic into it to shore it up.

Sunset's eyes widened, and she looked around as light continued to flare off her shield. "This was a trap all along?!"

"Aunt Sunset, I'm sorry!" Twilight cried.

"You claimed you weren't corrupted, and now you betray me like this!"

"You have to be stopped," Twilight said in a quavering voice. "Let the shield facing Starlight go down. It won't hurt you, it will just weaken you and--"

"I will do no such thing!" Sunset thundered. "I can hold up against a single unicorn's attack and simple arms fire." She glared at Star Singer. "Unless you intend to betray me as well."

Twilight's horn started to glow, her eyes glistening. "I'm sorry, Auntie."

Sunset's mouth dropped open, horror dawning in her eyes as Twilight let loose with a blinding white beam of light. Sunset grunted with the effort as her own horn blazed, her shield quivering as magic cracked like lightning around it.

"Twily, you can't do this," Sunset said in a despairing voice.

"You have three choices, Aunt Sunset," said Twilight in a shaky but determined voice. "You can let your shield down towards Starlight and live. You can let it down towards the natives and die. Or you can do neither, and ... a-and I'll eventually burn through your shield."

"Twily, how can you--"

"Don't make me kill you, Auntie!" Twilight cried, tears trickling from her eyes. "I don't know if I can stop my attack in time when your shield collapses! I d-don't want to hurt you, but I can't let this continue."

Sunset set her eyes hard. They flicked first towards Starlight with an almost appraising look, then back towards Twilight, her gaze burning with a mix of rage and disappointment. "Very well, you traitor."

The shield facing Starlight fell.

Twilight immediately ceased her attack, and she desperately hoped the humans would stop as well. Starlight's spell struck Sunset as her shield flickered out. Twilight held her breath, closing her eyes tightly against the possible carnage that would result if the bullets kept coming. She heard a sharp, shrill shriek from Sunset followed by the cry, "What are you doing to me?!"

Twilight dared to open her eyes. She uttered a short gasp as she saw the cutie mark ripped from Sunset's haunches, shivering as she remembered what it had felt like to have her own taken away during her first encounter with Starlight. Everything that had made Twilight special, that she had aspired to and was passionate about simply taken from her as if she had never had it in the first place. She swallowed hard as Starlight lifted the cutie mark above her, and that dreaded, awful equals sign appeared on Sunset's haunches instead.

"What did you just do to me, you little bitch?" Sunset snarled.

Starlight panted heavily, the cutie mark quivering in her grip. "You can't ... figure that out ... yourself? ... I'm ... disappointed ..."

Sunset marched towards Starlight. "I don't know how you did that, but you're--"

She never finished her sentence. New fire opened up from hidden positions, but instead of bullets, she was peppered with small darts in her haunches and side. Her horn flickered weakly as she attempted first to shield, and when that failed, to counter the sedative's effects. She staggered, seemingly managing to stave off the attack, until a flash of magic from Starlight's horn reinforced the unmarking, and Sunset's magic failed.

Sunset quivered in place for another second, and her eyes rolled back in her head. She fell over with a thump, her eyes sliding closed.

Twilight fell to her haunches, her head hung, tears dripping to the ground. "I'm sorry it had to be done. I'm so sorry."

Star stepped slowly up to her. "You ... you had this all planned?"

Twilight nodded without looking up. "It was the only way. The natives needed proof, and we had to take her out of the way so she couldn't interfere with stopping this."

"And can you stop it?"

Twilight looked up. "Yes, we can. Finally."





Anthony sat absolutely still, his hands steepled before him. An uneasy silence had settled over the room after witnessing the final part of the operation. He finally leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh. "I want to state for the record that if I had any lingering doubts about Twilight's dedication to helping us, they were entirely dispelled."

"Good call on giving the order to cease fire," said the graying figure on the teleconference screen.

"Our goal has always been to take her alive, Mr. President."

The President of the United States gave him a grave nod. "Yes, but you saw for yourself that it almost all went to hell near the end. It would've been nice and easy to just pop her one when her shield came down."

"Given everything we were hearing from Sunset, I wanted her to understand exactly what kind of species she was shoving aside," said Anthony. "We don't need her brand of 'improvement.'"

"What do you think about the bit Star Singer mentioned about gamma ray bursts?" asked the President. "Could we really have been staring at evidence of the existence of magic without even realizing it?"

"That's for the physicists to decide," said Anthony. "Right now, I want to follow up with what we heard near the end. Twilight sounded like she may have had another brainstorm, and the sooner we know about it the better."

"Agreed. In the meantime, we're arranging for coordinated modifications to the EAS broadcast towers. I can't emphasize how fast we need to act, Mr. Heller."

Anthony leaned forward in his seat. "How bad is it getting, Mr. President?"

"A lot worse than even the media has a handle on," said the President in a grave voice. "Despite the shutdown of the grid, just about the whole country has or had the flu. Just the sickness itself is causing disruptions of public services from absenteeism, never mind exchanging hands for hooves." He paused. "And despite our best precautions, a member of the staff on board Air Force One has a fever."

"Mr. President, Twilight has a working counterspell for ETS. You could land at the nearest airport, and we can have either Twilight or Starlight--"

"No, don't take them away from their duties. The numbers we ran won't tolerate it."

Anthony let out a long sigh and laced his fingers together under his chin. "I've heard Doctor Marlowe's numbers, but I imagine she doesn't command nearly as many resources as our intelligence agencies. What are we looking at here?"

"Right now, I have my best people drawing up potential recovery plans," said the President. "While we hope for the best case scenario -- where ETS is stopped and all transformed people are changed back -- but we have to prepare for the worst. If we can."

"And what's the estimate concerning the worst?"

The President frowned. "Worst case is: everyone who has ETS or starts to show ETS symptoms in the next twenty-four hours becomes permanently transformed. That means anywhere from fifty million to two hundred million transformed, most of which are in the United States."

Anthony took a slow, deep breath.

"And if that happens," said the President. "God only knows what this country will look like with anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five percent of its citizens as little magical ponies."
> Chapter 43 - Betrayal And Doubt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry, I thought we already had this settled," Sarah said in a plaintive voice.

"No, Sarah, you're misunderstanding me," said Harold. "It's not what you're thinking."

Sarah gave her husband a wary look. "This isn't about guilt over leaving your father?"

"It's not that at all."

Sarah let out a small sigh, her eyes uncertain.

"Please, listen to me," Harold said in a softer voice. "You had the same dream I did."

"I did, too," said Jenny.

"From what I'm overhearing, everypony did," said James.

"I don't deny that it was very profound," said Sarah. "And it made me see some of my life choices in a different light but--"

"That's exactly what's happened to me," Harold said.

Sarah wanted to believe her husband was sincere. For all her focus on her own career, she had assumed that Harold had turned to IT as a career because he had wanted it. Having heard indirectly from Bob the night before that it had simply been expedient was a revelation.

"But you got out of farming by your own choice," said Sarah. "At least that's what I had thought."

"No, what I had done was leave an overbearing father," said Harold in a low voice. "I just didn't want to admit that."

"But why?"

Harold lowered his head, his ears drooping slightly. "I was everything to him, Sarah, especially after my mother died when I was six. I didn't want to confront him about what I really thought. It was better for him to think that I wanted a career change."

Sarah tilted her head. "But you didn't see a future in farming. That's what you told him." Sarah took a step towards him. "That's what you told me."

Harold raised his head and looked Sarah in the eye. "I was lying. Not just to you and my father, but to myself."

"And now you want to go back to your father's farm?" Sarah asked in a slightly quavering voice.

"No, of course not. This isn't about the past, it's about the future."

James' father Ken stepped forward. Behind him, a pegasus mare with a lemon-yellow coat and dark green mane stood with an uncertain look in her blue eyes and her tail tucked between her rear legs. "That's the sense I got from my dream, too," said Ken. "Don't look behind, just look ahead."

"Sarah, we can't keep living in this shelter being fed by our caretakers," said Harold. "We're going to have to fend for ourselves. How is my IT experience going to help there?"

Sarah thought back to her discussion with the white mare in her dream, when she struggled with resolving the lessons of her vision with her life goals. Wasn't Harold simply doing the same thing? For as much as she loved him, she sometimes thought there was still so much about him she didn't know.

"If you hadn't left your father's farm, we never would've met," said Sarah.

Harold smiled. "I know. That's why I want to stop regretting that decision."

"So tell me straight this time. Tell me the absolute truth. Do you really think you'd actually like farming as a career?"

"As a career, no," said Harold. "Because I want to -- and because I really feel like I can do it and enjoy it -- yes."

Sarah blinked in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand the difference."

"It's hard for me to explain. It's like how you pursued your theories because it was what you wanted to do despite how much trouble it caused. To be blunt, Sarah, it wasn't doing your career any good."

Sarah could not find fault with that statement. While she certainly hoped that the revelations Twilight had laid out about Earth's past would help her recover her fortunes, she was no longer looking at in light of the accolades she might receive or the fame she might earn. She just wanted to follow her passion.

"Mom, is money even going to matter anymore?" Jenny asked.

"I don't think it will," said Ken. He chortled. "So maybe I don't have to worry about making this month's mortgage payment."

Sarah only then realized how distant her financial woes had become in the past few days. Now that the immediate crisis was over, she had trouble summoning up the effort to worry about them anymore. Perhaps she was already starting to look towards the future rather than the past.

Yet she still had to hear from another family member. "Bob, you've been quiet. Surely you have an opinion on this?"

Several sets of eyes turned to Bob, and more than one with some sympathy. Bob stood balanced on his rear hooves, his horn having fully emerged. His stooped over posture reminded the others of the discomfort of that final day before it was done. "I didn't have the same dream you all did."

Jenny's eyes widened. "You didn't?"

"Maybe because he's not a full pony yet?" James suggested.

"So I didn't feel qualified to give an opinion on it," said Bob.

"Vision or not, I feel like I have a clearer direction," said Harold. "I can only imagine what Laura is thinking about all this."

"I really want to see her, Harry," said Sarah, her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't be keeping us from her anymore."

It pained her to no end that she could not tell her own husband her worries about Laura's association with Sunny. While she struggled to find what was so bad about being a pony now, she still didn't know what Sunny's motivations or intentions were beyond their transformation. Even assuming that Sunny had somehow given them this shared dream, it seemed an inherently positive message. What possible "evil" intent did Sunny have in mind? That unanswered question made her shiver.

Harold frowned. "Yeah, I don't get it either why they're not allowing us to reunite with her."

Sarah's eyes flicked to the side. She refused to outright lie to Harold by stating that she didn't know either, not after Harold had just taken pains to confess his own lies, even if they were more a self-deception.

"I keep hearing rumors that they're going to let us go soon," said Ken.

"I think they're just waiting for stragglers like me," said Bob. "Sorry I'm holding everything up."

"Don't be," said Harold. "We can be patient a little longer, but it still doesn't mean they can't transfer Laura here."

"She didn't want to be taken from her friends," said Sarah.

"If they are letting everypony go, it would only be for a day or so. Or we could go to her." Harold glanced at the others around him and said in a lower voice, "I don't want to leave the friends I just made, either, but family has to come first."

"Speaking of making friends," said Ken as he stepped to the side and turned partially towards the yellow pegasus mare. "My wife has something she wants to say to you."

Jenny glanced at the pegasus, her eyes widening slightly, and she cast an inquisitive look at James. James just smiled.

Sarah sensed Harold bristle a bit, and his ears did draw back briefly before slowly relenting. The mare -- James' mother Margaret -- stepped forward. "I, uh, just wanted to apologize," she said in a contrite voice. Her eyes flicked to Jenny for a moment. "For my behavior when I called you to complain about your daughter. I'm sorry."

Harold stepped forward. "It's fine, Margaret. Mistakes were made all around."

"Maggie," she said with a small smile. "You can call me Maggie."





Kevin arrived to see Laura hovering before some of the technicians. "But what happened to her?" she demanded in a voice of rising agitation.

"We told you, Miss Tanner," said one. "Miss Sommers is ill and we decided to move her out of the shelter to avoid infecting others."

"But why won't you tell me any more than that? What's wrong with her?"

"We're not sure yet, which is why we need to observe her more closely."

"Can I see her?" Laura asked.

"Again, she may be infectious."

Laura frowned. "This is ridiculous! She was perfectly healthy this morning. All she had was some digestive issues."

"Ma'am, sometimes illnesses are like that," said another of the technicians. "They can come on suddenly."

"Is she at least okay?"

"We can't comment on her condition at this time."

"Oh, come on!" Laura cried.

As Kevin looked on, another pegasus mare with a tri-colored mane touched a hoof to Laura's shoulder. "Laura, I know you're worried about your friend, but there's nothing we can do."

Kevin recognized the voice. She was another one of his patients, Emma Franklin.

Laura sighed, her ears drooping. She turned in the air to face Emma. "This doesn't make any sense. Why is everypony being so secretive? I thought we were finally getting through to them that they needed to be more open with us!"

Kevin had pledged to himself that he would lie as little as possible to Laura, but now he wondered if he would be able to come through on that promise. He was under no sort of secrecy rules concerning Sunset, yet he didn't want to shatter Laura's new-found confidence. While he would very much like to see her human again, he couldn't deny that the transformation had at least some positive effects on her.

"Laura?" he finally called out.

Laura whirled around. "Doctor Conner!"

He gave her a small smile as she flew over to him. "It's good to see you again."

Laura smiled. "Same here. It's nice to meet you when there's not a big crisis going on."

"Yes, I've been told that you've become more comfortable with your transformation."

"I'm just so glad it's over," said Laura. "Not knowing what or who I was had started to get to me. Things are a little more clear now."

Kevin nodded. "I'm sorry I ..." He trailed off. He had almost said "I'm sorry I couldn't stop this" but that mattered not to those in the end state. It would only make his own feelings about it worse. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I'm making the rounds to all my patients to see how they're getting along."

"Doctor Conner, maybe you can help me," said Laura. She swept a fore-hoof towards the technicians. "My friend Sunny went to the bathroom and never came back. They keep telling me she's sick, but they won't tell me with what. Maybe if you talk to them, you can get them to tell me."

Kevin hesitated, his expression somber.

Laura's eyes widened, and she drew back. "Oh, no, is she really badly ill?!"

"It's not that, Laura," said Kevin. "There are special circumstances. She's alive and well, but ... unconscious at the moment."

Laura raised a hoof to her muzzle, and she heard a gasp behind her as Emma and a white-coated pegasus flew up. "Laura, I'm so sorry about your friend!" said the latter.

And that one would be Joan Kendrick. Realizing just how many of his patients were here was a sobering thought for Kevin. "For reasons I can't disclose right now, she has to remain sedated."

Laura's eyes glistened. "If she regains consciousness, can I see her? Please? I just want her to know that somepony cares. She helped me so much when I was going through a really bad time."

Kevin gave her a wan smile. "I know, which is why this is so difficult for me to tell you. We don't quite know what's going to happen yet, but you can be assured she's being watched very carefully."

Laura nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I guess ... I guess I looked to her like a second mother. I mean, don't let my real mother know I said that, but--"

"I'm going to arrange for you to be reunited with your family."

Laura hesitated and gave the others a forlorn look.

"Laura, we can do without you for a while," said Emma.

"Yes, go tell your mother what you're able to do now," said Joan. "I think she'll be proud of you."

Laura slowly smiled and nodded. She turned back to Kevin. "Yes, please, I'd like to see my family again."

Kevin's smile became more natural. "Then I'll arrange it."

"Thank you." She turned back to her friends. "Come on, I had more ideas about cloud management that I wanted to talk to you about. Let's gather the other pegasi, too."

As they flew off, Kevin couldn't help but feel proud of Laura, almost like a parent would. He and his deceased wife had never had any kids, and even if he remarried someday, he doubted he could stand the rigors of raising a child at his age.

"Hey, Kevin," came a voice to the side.

Kevin turned his head and looked down. "Hello, Fred."

"So, tell me," said Fred in a soft voice. "They take her down?"

Kevin sighed. "Yes."

"Good. I'll say this for her. She really knew how to put on a show. Never would've known it was her."

Kevin looked off into the distance at Laura and said nothing.

"Want my advice?" Fred said. "I think somepony should tell her the truth."

"I can't make that call, Fred," said Kevin. "I can't judge whether she can handle it or not."

Fred gave Kevin a sharp look. "Bullshit. Laura's not some delicate flower. She can take it. Yeah, it will be hard on her, but she's stronger than you think."

"It's not my place to tell her," said Kevin. "I think that burden has to fall to her family."

Fred's eyes widened. "They're in on this?"

"Mrs. Tanner is," said Kevin. "I don't know if she's told the rest of the family."

"Then she's the right one to break it to her. The longer you wait, the harder it will be. If anypony understands what it's like to live a lie for far too long, it's me."

"I'm arranging for the Tanner family to reunite," said Kevin. "I'll make sure Mrs. Tanner is told what happened, and she can decide what to do."





Sarah tried not to be nervous as she, Harold, and Jenny were shepherded out of the auditorium and into one of the classrooms, but strong emotions altered even her scent enough for Harold to detect.

"Sarah, what's going on?" Harold said.

"I'm hoping we'll find out soon," said Sarah in a distant voice.

"You know something that I don't."

"We're going to be reunited with Laura, Harry, isn't that enough?"

"Then why not just send her into the shelter?" said Harold. "What's with all this cloak and dagger?"

"I bet this has something to do with that FBI guy who talked to you that day we arrived," Jenny said, her voice a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

Sarah couldn't lie to her family anymore, not when everything about her exposed her feelings to everypony around her. Perhaps the inability to hide things from her family would help keep her grounded more. "All right, yes, it does. I just wasn't at liberty to discuss the matter."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "Not at liberty to discuss? When it has to do with our daughter?"

"Harry, please, just be patient a little longer. You don't understand how much it upset me to keep things from you."

The technicians guiding them reached a classroom with two FBI agents stationed in the hall, one of whom opened the door for them. Sarah tensed when she saw Anthony Heller.

He looked at Sarah and said, "Doctor Tanner?"

"Yes, that's me," Sarah said. She gestured with a hoof. "This is Harold, my husband, and Jenny, my younger daughter. I'm really hoping whatever you have to tell me, they can hear as well."

"Then can," said Anthony. "We have her, Doctor Tanner. Sunset Shimmer is in custody and your daughter Laura is perfectly safe."

Sarah let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Who's Sunset Shimmer?" Harold asked.

"Laura's safe?" Jenny asked in confusion. "Why was she in danger in the first place?"

Sarah turned to her family. "I'm truly sorry I couldn't tell you."

"Mr. Tanner, you can be proud of your wife," said Anthony. "She understood the need for secrecy despite--"

"Just tell me what the hell is going on," Harold demanded.

"Sunset Shimmer is the person behind the transformations," said Anthony.

Jenny's eyes suddenly widened.

"Okay, and?" Harold said.

"While you may find your current condition no longer strange, Sunset is still a bioterrorist," said Anthony. "You knew her by her alias, Sadie Sommers."

Jenny flinched.

"Sadie is a bioterrorist," Harold deadpanned. "Seriously?"

Sarah stepped up to him. "I don't quite understand everything about this either, Harry, but you can't deny the trouble she caused this family, even if we're past that."

"She was the Fae Queen all along," Jenny murmured.

Sarah sighed. "Jenny, not now, please."

Jenny blinked. "Huh? Oh, um, sorry. Never mind."

"So let me get this straight," said Harold. "Laura was associating with a supposed criminal all this time, and nopony bothered to tell her?"

"We couldn't risk Sunset knowing we were on to her, Mr. Tanner," said Anthony. "I can't divulge all the details now, but we were contacted by entities who were aware of Sunset's actions and wished to assist us in stopping her."

"Harry, it's over now," said Sarah. "Laura is safe. That's all I care about."

"I've spoken with your physician," said Anthony. "He recommends you tell your daughter the truth."

Sarah nodded. "We should, yes. Can we finally see her now?"

Anthony stood. "I'll go tell the others to bring her in. You can take as long as you wish to speak with her, then let the technicians in the hallway know when you're ready to return to the shelter."

"Thank you."

Anthony nodded and headed out.

Harold watched him go before saying to Sarah. "Was he the one who interrogated you?"

"Yes," Sarah said in a low voice.

"I wish you had told me that before now so I could've given him a piece of my mind for drawing a gun on you."

"He did what??" Jenny cried.

"That's precisely why I didn't tell you," said Sarah. "And, please, Jenny, calm down. It was a misunderstanding. You saw how cordial he was acting now. At the time he had no idea what was going on or who was behind it."

Harold turned to Jenny. "What was that you said before about the Fae Queen?"

Jenny scraped a fore-hoof against the floor. "Uh, nothing."

"Jenny, you can tell us," Harold said softly.

"Yes, you can," said Sarah. "I silenced you earlier only because I wanted to focus on the matter of your sister. Everything we talked about concerning your fantasies the other day still holds. You don't have to be afraid to discuss them anymore."

"Really, it's nothing," said Jenny. "I don't think it's any secret that I had a character I called the Fae Queen who was using magic to change her subjects. I just ..." She trailed off for a moment. "I saw her in a dream I had recently, and she really didn't look anything like Sunny did."

Sarah tilted her head. "The dream you had this morning?"

"Yeah, that one."

Before Sarah could reply, a soft knock sounded at the door, and Kevin's face appeared as it opened. He smiled as he said, "I believe I have someone here who wants to see you."

Sarah uttered a small gasp as her eyes fell on the yellow-furred, orange-haired pegasus filly who stepped into the room. "L-Laura?"

A huge smile stretched across Laura's muzzle, and Sarah's mouth dropped open when her daughter flew across the distance and drew Sarah into a tight hug, wings still holding Laura aloft. "Oh, God, Mom, I missed you," Laura said in a quavering voice. She drew back and added, "I missed all of you!"

Harold and Jenny hugged her in turn, Jenny most ardently of all. When Jenny drew back and saw Laura still hovering, she smirked and said, "You ever actually, you know, land?"

Laura glanced down in bemusement and laughed. "I guess I'm getting so used to flying that I just don't think about it anymore."

Harold grinned. "Pay no attention to her, Laura, you fly as much as you want. You've got wings, after all."

Laura looked at her mother. "And you've got a horn! Have you been using it?"

Sarah smiled faintly. "Yes, I have. I'm starting to get the hang of it."

"She doesn't drop stuff nearly as much anymore," said Jenny.

Laura looked around. "Where's Bob?"

"His transformation is not quite finished," said Sarah. "He has trouble getting around right now."

"I hope it's not for much longer. I felt really awkward that last night." She looked at Sarah's face. "Is something the matter?"

Sarah hesitated before she said in a more somber voice. "I have something I need to tell you, but I want to ask you a question first, and I want you to tell me the truth."

Laura gave her a quizzical look. "Um, sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Your friend Sunny," said Sarah in a slightly quavering voice. "Did she ... has she been talking to you at all?"

"Oh, yes, all the time," Laura said. "She's really been encouraging me, which is why I was so upset when she was taken away. I still don't understand what happened."

Sarah felt a vague sense of disappointment. She had heard nothing to confirm Sunny was some sort of evil monster. What was wrong with encouraging a young pegasus who was using her wings for the first time? If Sarah had been there, she likely would have been just as supportive. "She never told you anything, well, out of place? Anything that was bad?"

Laura settled on her hooves and folded her wings. "Of course not. What's going on, Mom? Why are you asking all these things?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Laura, Sunny's been arrested."

Laura's pupils shrank, and she recoiled, drawing her ears back. "What?? Why?!"

"For starting this transformation in the first place."

Laura stared. "That doesn't make sense. She was changing along with everypony else. She didn't know what was behind it, either."

"She lied to you, Laura."

Laura's eyes shimmered. "No, that's not right."

"I'm sorry," said Kevin. "But it's true."

Laura flinched, as if forgetting Kevin was still there. She looked at her mother and frowned. "No, this is stupid. Sunny is no criminal."

"She's changing humans into ponies against their will," Sarah said.

"Mom, I know we didn't ask for this, but--"

"And no matter what we feel about it now, she shouldn't have done that, and she shouldn't have lied to you."

Laura's lower lip quivered. "Wh-why are you saying this?!"

Sarah stepped closer to her. "You have to know the truth."

Laura swallowed hard. "This ... I ... s-so ... so what?!"

Sarah could only stare at her daughter.

"So what if she changed us? What if this was for the better?"

Sarah had no reply for Laura, and one look at Harold's face confirmed that he had no greater wisdom than she. How could she stand there and tell Laura that she was wrong when in many ways, she was clearly right? "The end result doesn't matter," Sarah said, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Why the hell not?!" Laura cried. "Do you know what my friends and I did the other day? We created a cloud and made it rain! Indoors!"

Sarah stared. "You really ... but ..."

"We can control the weather! For years I felt like I had almost no control over my life, and now I can make it rain. I wish this happened to me a long time ago!"

Sarah wanted to take back everything and pretend it was just a big mistake. She was so proud of her daughter for finally finding something she really wanted to do and for taking the first steps in becoming an independent and successful mare. All she ever wanted was the best for her children. Why should this be any different?

Ponies always forgive. That was what the mare in her dream had told her. Yet it wasn't up to her to forgive. What she thought about it didn't matter. Sunset had committed a crime, even if it was one Sarah had trouble understanding. She didn't want her daughter admiring a criminal, but she couldn't make that decision for Laura.

"I'm sorry I made you upset," said Sarah. "I'm not about to tell you to stop what you're doing. I can't do that any more than you can just stop being who and what you are."

"I'm just struggling to understand this," Laura said. "She was so encouraging, so helpful, and now you're telling me it was just part of some sort of evil scheme? Did she care about me at all?"

"I was told that Sunny would never harm you," said Sarah. "And this was from somepony who knows her very well. But I can't stop being your mother. I worried about you and had to make sure you were safe. You also deserved the truth."

"If I may," said Kevin. "I have also been in contact with the pony who knows Sunset best. I suspect she considers Sunset more badly misguided than outright evil. Sunset may have genuinely cared for your well-being, Laura."

"May have," Laura said in a flat voice. "But you don't know."

"Nopony can," said Harold. "But it doesn't matter. You don't need her, you have us."

Sarah's eyes glistened. "Laura, honey, I am so very proud of you. We've already heard about some of the things you did, and not just your weather skills."

Laura slowly nodded. "I just don't want everything that I've done to be a big lie. I've made more friends than I've ever had in my whole life. I have a whole new talent now that I really want to explore further."

"Laura?" Jenny asked in a tentative voice.

Laura turned her head. "Yes?"

Jenny stepped up to her. "Can you really control the weather already?"

"I can't exactly stop a storm in its tracks," said Laura softly. "But maybe someday."

"You don't have to do that for me."

"I'm sorry?"

"You didn't do anything wrong when I was five," said Jenny. "It wasn't your fault. You don't have to make up for it."

Sarah was almost in tears. Now she had two daughters she was proud of.

Laura's eyes glistened, and she hugged Jenny tightly. "Maybe that's what it started out as, but I'm trying hard to move on. I really am doing this for myself."

"Then it doesn't matter that Sunny lied to you," said Sarah. "It doesn't take away from anything you've done."

Laura broke off the hug and turned to her mother. "I know, but it still hurts. I might not have tried any of the things I did if it hadn't been for her. I might have just stayed in my shell."

"Then perhaps she did some good after all, but there's still her greater crime to consider. Despite the outcome, she caused this family and many others a lot of grief."

"I know, but I can't quite wrap my head around it yet. I need time to think on it." Laura glanced at Kevin. "And I really hope I can see Sunny one more time. I want to hear her side of it. I want to know why she felt she had to lie."

"That may be a tall order," Kevin said. "But if this crisis has taught me anything, it's that nothing is impossible."

Laura smiled faintly before turning back to her family. "Let's go back into the shelter, please. I want to meet all your new friends."

Sarah smiled. "And you're okay with that?"

"Yes, I am." said Laura firmly. "It was silly of me to avoid making friends because I thought I would lose them when we moved away. If anything, we're all going to have to come together. That's why I can hardly wait until they release us all."

Sarah could understand better why Laura had such trouble seeing Sunset in a bad light. Laura had gained everything Sarah had ever wanted for her: friends, confidence, and above all, happiness.

"Let's head back." said Sarah. "And then you can tell us all the details about what you and your friends did."

"Yeah, I want to hear about the indoor rain shower!" Jenny said.

Laura giggled. "I'd be happy to."

"I'll let them know that you're ready to head back," said Kevin.

Sarah turned to him. "Doctor Conner? Could you come back with us?"

"I do have other duties to get back to, but I could visit for a short while. May I ask what the occasion is?"

"Heather wants to to talk to you."





When Kevin had first received the call from Heather that had effectively been a good-bye, all he had wanted to do was see her again. Now he wasn't as sure.

When he had entered Laura's shelter, he had managed to remain more detached. Seeing a sea of colorful ponies where humans once were had been less of a shock as he had stayed at the periphery, both physically and emotionally. Now he had to wade deep into it.

Being a stranger among a nascent pony society was impossible, and not just because this shelter held a large concentration of his former patients. They were just inherently more friendly, many stopping to say hello or wave a fore-hoof -- or sometimes a wing -- in his direction. He admitted to not recognizing many of them unless they spoke and he recalled the voice, but even then it was hard; his brain was still wired to recognize human faces.

Thus he took shameless advantage of the fact that Heather was one of the unique "crystal ponies." There was no mistaking the light-green-furred, cyan-maned mare as every hair on her body sparkled, made even more dramatic by the shaft of sunlight from the skylights that lay across part of her barrel and haunches.

Seeing Heather completely transformed hit him harder than seeing the Tanners. She had taken the gamble that all medical practitioners do and lost: that she would not contract whatever ailment her patient had. He almost thought it wasn't fair that he should be spared and she wasn't.

Kevin had also discovered that it was near impossible to find a pony alone, and Heather was no exception. She spoke with a unicorn mare with a bright magenta mane and tail, her fur a dusky red. Her barrel was swollen in pregnancy.

Heather and the unicorn turned towards Kevin as he approached. The unicorn smiled and stepped up first. "Doctor Conner! It's good to see you again."

Kevin finally put the hair color to the voice, and he forced a weak smile. "Hello, Carol. I trust you're doing well?"

"That's what they tell me, anyway. I certainly feel better than I did when I last saw you."

Carol had been the pregnant woman who had come to see him the week before when her OB/GNY was out of town. "You were worried about the upcoming birth."

"I'm a lot more calm about it now," said Carol. "They took imaging of me recently. As far as they can tell, I'm going to have a perfectly healthy unicorn foal. He apparently changed right along with me, and I didn't really have anything to worry about."

Kevin could understand a bit better now why many scientists were embroiled in a sometimes heated debate as to whether or not the mind alterations were considered "brainwashing." He hadn't wanted to see it that way, but he was looking through his admittedly biased perspective of wanting to see his patients happy and healthy.

Former patients. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

He glanced at Heather. She was smiling as well, but whether because she was inherently happier now or because Carol was happy, he couldn't tell. "I'm glad to hear things are working out for you, Carol. I wish you only the best."

Heather finally spoke. "Carol, I'd like to talk to Kevin for a bit."

"Of course," said Carol. "Please, come join my husband and I when you're done. His sister would love to meet you."

Heather's smile widened, and she nodded. After Carol headed off, she turned to Kevin and hesitated, her smile fading slightly in the awkward pause. "Kevin, I, uh, wanted to apologize."

Kevin took a moment to force his mind to associate the small pony standing before him with his assistant who had graced his office for so long. "You don't need to, Heather," he said in a soft voice.

"No, I do. I rejected our friendship. You deserve more than that."

"Your feelings were conflicted at the time."

Heather averted her eyes for a moment. "I guess they were. I'm still feeling like the odd pony out. I feel like I should know what I can do, but I'm not sure."

Before she had sequestered herself with Starlight in Sunset's home to work on the artifacts and the portal, Twilight had mentioned something about finding a means to mass-cast the counterspell, and that it involved the crystal ponies. After seeing for himself just how accepting the Tanner family had been of their transformation, would they even want to help with such an endeavor? "Heather, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," said Heather. "You know you always can."

"Do you want to go back to what you were doing before this happened?"

"If you mean, do I want to help my fellow ponies, certainly," said Heather without hesitation. "I'm just not sure how I'm going to do that quite yet."

"What about other humans?"

Heather gave him a nonplussed look. "I don't understand."

Kevin felt guilty for grilling Heather like this. She had likely just wanted to rekindle their long-standing friendship, and now he felt like he was interrogating her. He needed to pull back. "Never mind that for now," said Kevin in a softer voice. "Heather, despite that phone call, I never stopped being your friend, but sometimes part of being a friend is knowing when someone needs their own space."

Heather slowly smiled. "I appreciate that, Kevin, but I'm over that now. I know things might never be quite the same again. I doubt I'll ever be able to help you reopen that office, but that doesn't mean we have to go our separate ways."

Kevin wanted to believe that, but where their relationship had centered largely around their shared profession, he was not sure what they had in common anymore. They weren't even the same species. "When did your transformation complete?"

"This morning," said Heather. "Sarah Tanner was a huge help to me yesterday when I could barely do anything for myself."

Kevin smiled more naturally. "The Tanners are good people."

Heather stepped closer to Kevin. "So what was that you said about helping other humans? What was that all about?"

"Maybe this isn't the best time for--"

"No, out with it. I know you too well, Kevin. You have something on your mind."

Kevin hesitated. "There's a possibility that we may have figured out a way to stop those who are still fully human from transforming."

"They figured out a cure?"

"Yes, but they may need ponies like you to help distribute it."

Heather's eyes widened, but she had no immediate response.

"How do you feel about that?" Kevin asked.

Heather glanced to the side. "I'm not sure."

"Do you want to prevent this from spreading?"

Heather hesitated before looking back at Kevin. "If it looks like I'm struggling with this, it's only because of a vision we all had."

"I'm aware of it," said Kevin.

"So now I'm asking myself, wasn't it my purpose to help others be healthy? Wouldn't contributing to the well-being of my fellow ponies do that?"

"But what of those still human?"

"That's what I'm having trouble with," Heather said. "On the one hoof, we were all better off after the transformation finished. Many of us can do things we never could before. On the other, I never had any thoughts about forcing other humans to change. I remember that people were upset over it when it was happening when no one knew where this was really going."

"Heather, it's been confirmed that this was a biological attack."

Heather's ears drew back and her pupils shrank.

"This was intentionally done to you," said Kevin. "Perhaps the end result was not the same had this been anthrax or ebola, but it was still done against your will."

Heather hesitated a long moment. "Then was the vision a complete lie?"

"From what I understand, it has its merits," said Kevin. "Certainly ponies have to come together for their own benefit. We did as humans, just perhaps not as enthusiastically. But did anything in the vision mention spreading this to others?"

"No, nothing like that at all," said Heather. "It only spoke of ponies, not humans."

"Then I think you're free to decide for yourself."

"The vision didn't dictate to me, Kevin," said Heather firmly. "But it did speak to me, and the fact that all of us had it implied it had some importance. It made sense. I can't help but want to see others have a chance at a good life. At the same time, forcing humans to be like us is not right. In fact, I'd even say that would go against the vision. It's unkind and dishonest."

Kevin smiled. "So you would be willing to help?"

"Yes, I would," said Heather. "But I also need to see to the needs of my own community as well."

"I wouldn't dream of telling you otherwise," said Kevin.

"Just tell me what I need to do."

"I don't have those details yet," Kevin said. "But I'll let you know when I do."

Heather nodded. "Kevin? I, um ... could you come down here, please?"

Kevin was unsure what Heather meant until she gestured with a hoof. He crouched down so he could be at eye-level with her. Before he could speak, she threw her fore-legs around him and pulled him into a hug.

Kevin's face was plunged into her mane, and he was again taken by how soft pony hair was. He breathed in her scent, a bit heady but nothing like the strong odor of native equines. He wanted to embrace her in return but was unsure of where he could safely squeeze her. All it took was the strength of her own hug to remind him that she was an earth pony first and foremost, and anything he could do was a drop in the bucket by comparison. He wrapped his arms around her neck and barrel.

"We had a great run together, Kevin," said Heather in a slightly choked voice. "Maybe this will be a way we can keep working together."

Kevin closed his eyes and hugged her tighter. "I'm looking forward to it as always."





When Laura first started to recount her exploits in the other shelter, she had stood on her hooves, but that didn't last long. As she grew more excited, she leaped into the air and punctuated her account with brief aerial acrobatics.

Laura didn't want to admit that this was also a pep talk to herself. Hearing the truth about Sunny had threatened to shatter some of the self-confidence she had gained. She had to convince herself that Sunny had only been a catalyst, that she had it in herself to do these things.

"I have to admit, Laura, creating that cloud was a bit of a bold move," said Sarah.

While Laura heard the pride in her mother's voice, she also heard the undertone of admonishment. "It wasn't just me that wanted to do it, Mom. We had a lot more support, and not just from Sunny."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to her," said Sarah.

Laura wanted to believe that, just like she wanted to believe that her mother was telling her the truth about Sunny. Not that she believed Sarah would lie to her, but what if somepony had lied to Sarah? She desperately wanted to talk to Sunny again, just to hear it from her.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think you take more after your father than me," Sarah added with a small smile.

"Huh?" Harold said.

Sarah glanced at him. "What Laura did sounds exactly like something you might do if you had wings."

"Do you also have a sense for the weather?" Bob asked.

Laura looked over to him and tried not to wince. His state reminded her all too much of that final awkward night before she woke up as a full pegasus pony. He sat on his bedroll as he could no longer stand properly. Everything below the waist was almost fully equine, and his horn had fully emerged.

"Yes, I do," said Laura. "I didn't understand at first what all those sensations were until Emma, Joan, and I started creating that cloud, and then it all fell into place. I can sense things like pressure and humidity."

"So you can predict the weather, too?" Harold asked.

Jenny snorted. "Who needs to predict it when she can make the weather?"

Laura giggled and smiled. Ever since their reunion, Jenny had been her most enthusiastic supporter. She hoped it wasn't just because her cloud-making feat was the sort of throw-caution-to-the-wind move that was worthy of Jenny herself. She instead wanted to think that they had somehow wound back the clock, and now they again enjoyed the relationship that they once had as foals. "Thanks, Jenny. It's more like predicting weather trends, Dad. I can't tell you for sure that it will rain or snow tomorrow, but I can say this month will be warmer and drier than the weather forecast is claiming."

"Unless you decide to change it," said Jenny.

Sarah draped a fore-leg over Jenny's barrel. "Honey, she can't go indiscriminately changing the weather."

"Who said anything about indiscriminate?" said Jenny. "You heard Dad, he wants to go back to farming."

Laura tilted her head. "What's this?"

Harold rubbed a hoof through his mane. "It's just something I've been thinking about."

"Because of the vision we all had?"

"That's part of it, yeah."

"And you can't do that if it's going to be too dry, right?" Jenny asked.

"Well, yeah," said Harold. "But I can't ask Laura to--"

"You don't have to ask!" Laura cried. "My pegasus friends and I would love to help! Dad, I'm dying to see what we can do. You can't imagine how badly I want the open skies. When they brought me here, I really hoped they would let me fly. Instead, they stuffed me in a stupid paramedic van. I'm getting tired of being treated like a patient. There's nothing wrong with me anymore. There's nothing wrong with any of us. Er ..." She glanced at Bob and blushed faintly. "What I mean is--"

Bob smiled faintly and shook his head. "It's fine, Laura." He glanced at the others. "I did want to talk to you about something."

"Sure, go ahead."

"It's kind of personal."

"Is everything okay?" Harold asked in concern.

"It's fine, Dad, but I do want to talk to her alone."

Laura smiled. This was the first time she had heard Bob openly call Harold "Dad."

This is what she struggled with most of all. If what Sunny had done was supposed to be so bad, why did so much turn out for the better? Her family had not been this close in years.

"Let's go talk to Carol," said Sarah. "She's expecting her first foal, and she and her husband wanted to talk to us about how we raised our children."

"Uh, you do realize those were human children and not pony children at the time, right?" Harold said.

Sarah smirked. "It's called 'moral support,' Harry. Come on."

"I'll go see if I can find James," said Jenny before she cantered off.

Laura settled on her hooves and folded her wings. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"When you were in the state I am now," said Bob. "What were you thinking?"

"That I wanted it to be over."

"But was that it?"

Laura considered. "I had a long conversation with my friends. We all wanted to know what we could really do. I was sure that my wings would work, and then when Sunny showed us ... um ... well, never mind that. Point is, the next morning, I started flying and my unicorn friend Kelly was moving stuff with her horn."

"I want to use my horn," said Bob. "I think I've already figured out how, but all I can do right now is throw sparks."

Laura remembered how fluidly Sunny had used her own horn even before she was completely transformed. She was the only one who had managed it; the other unicorns-to-be who tried it couldn't do it until the next morning when they were fully pony. Proof of Sunny's deception, perhaps, but she couldn't forget how Sunny had used her power specifically to help Laura contact her mother. Hardly the act of an evil monster.

"You'll be able to use it by tomorrow I'm sure," said Laura with a smile.

"It's not what I expected," said Bob. "It's not just willing stuff to happen. I can sense it has rules and structure. Even the simple levitation that the other unicorns are doing, it's like a little program already wired in my head."

"See, now you know how I felt," said Laura excitedly. "I felt like I could do all these things and just needed to get past the weird in-between state."

"I want to get past it, too, but I promised myself to ask you something before I do. Do you miss being human?"

Laura thought back to her impassioned conversation with her mother earlier. She had said she wished this had happened to her a long time ago. "I remember what it was like to be human, but I don't want to go back to it."

"What if you could have everything that you do now?" asked Bob. "What then?"

Laura found it easy to dismiss the question. She was a pony, so why bother speculating otherwise? Yet she didn't want to hurt Bob's feelings, and he never brought up anything unless there was a point to it, even if she didn't see it right away. "I'm not sure. I guess I'm not as concerned with the body I have as I am about whether I'm happy or not."

"I want to feel that way. I think I can, I just still have something that's telling me I shouldn't. I want to ignore it. It would be easy to ignore, in fact."

If her mother had not handed her the bombshell that was Sunny's deception, she would have fallen back on the shared vision, but was that just part of Sunny's plan? Should it even matter considering the vision was positive? It wasn't like Sunny had called upon ponykind to fall to their knees in worship of her, or to turn against the remaining humans.

"I don't know what to tell you, Bob, I'm sorry," said Laura. "All I can say is, nopony can stop what's happening to you, so maybe you just need to make the best of it."

Bob was quiet for a long moment. "I'm still going to try to remember things as they were. I'm going to try to remember the things that I used to be able to do, things that I liked to do."

Laura smiled faintly. In a way, she envied Bob. While perhaps his relationship with his biological mother was strained, he at least had things he could do he was proud of. All Laura could point to was some vague goal of being more responsible without really understanding what that meant.

She couldn't let this cause her any doubt. She had an exciting future ahead of her, and she had to concentrate on that. Nothing else mattered.

"It will work out, I'm sure of it," Laura said softly.
> Chapter 44 - Alicorn Truth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the open window and a fan directing cool air towards Twilight, sweat still trickled down her face as she concentrated on imbuing the proper thaumic matrix into the gems and crystals. Her horn remained almost constantly ablaze, a wisp of smoke occasionally wafting from the tip. She finally let out a ragged sigh as the glow diminished. "I have to take a break."

"I wish I could," Starlight murmured.

Twilight gave her friend a troubled look. "I'm sorry, I've been so focused on this, I didn't think to ask how you're holding up."

Starlight's own horn glowed, as did Sunset's cutie mark which she still held aloft. "I'm managing for now."

"How much longer can you hold on to that?"

"As long as it takes."

"That's not an empirical answer."

Starlight rolled her eyes. "But it will have to do, won't it?" She gestured to the side with a hoof. "At least until you get time to unravel Sunset's magic."

Twilight shifted her gaze towards the runic circle. Her magic workshop had been moved to the basement of Sunset's home at the humans' insistence, much to Twilight's initial dismay. She had claimed they didn't have time for that, but human ingenuity and drive surprised her once more; by the time she had arrived, the Army Corps of Engineers had just completed setting things up to her specifications.

"My orders came from higher up," Anthony had explained. "The President insisted on increased security around the portal, since it represents an uncontrolled entry point into the country, and you're best able to deal with it."

Twilight had made an initial attempt to unlock the portal but had found Sunset's spells to be complex enough to require more time than she felt they had in light of the latest numbers of ETS cases. She had instead focused on enchanting the gems and crystals so the thaumic pulse could be set up to delay the start of any further transformations.

"How much energy does it take to hold a cutie mark like that?" Twilight asked.

"More than I care for," said Starlight. "And please don't complain about a non-empirical answer. I never studied the exact energy expenditure since I had intended from the start to place captured cutie marks in enchanted glass containers. I can tell you that the more powerful the pony, the harder the mark is to hold."

"Is that why it took some effort to remove Sunset's mark even after her shield fell?"

"I'm frankly not sure about that," said Starlight. "It's bothering me a bit. You had managed to resist me, but I overcame you without working up a sweat. Sunset should've been easier than an alicorn, not harder."

"She may have been able to put up a defensive spell at the last minute when she realized what you were doing." Twilight looked down at the gems and crystals on the table. She had separated them into two piles: those she had enchanted and those remaining to be enchanted. The former was about twice the size of the latter. "As soon as I get these done, I'll unlock the portal. Canterlot has thaumically aware glass in abundance. I need to get this done first to buy time before I'm ready to mass-cast the counterspell."

"I would like to hear your thoughts on that, Twilight," said Anthony, the lone civilian among the army soldiers who stood guard about the periphery of the room. "Some of what you said during the operation suggested you discovered a solution."

Twilight nodded. "Where's Star Singer? She should hear this, too."

"She's assisting Doctor Marlowe in making a more effective sedative for Sunset," said Anthony.

"We can fill her in later," said Starlight.

"I found an incomplete spell among Sunset's hidden possessions," said Twilight. "It's for a permanent energy conduit between this universe and Equestria."

"Another portal?" Anthony asked.

"It could be used as a portal, yes, but it's more than that. Sunset's reason for transforming humanity was to provide ponykind with more magic to fend off future threats. She thus needed a way to allow magic to flow from this universe to the other. However, the conduit is bidirectional. I intend to complete the spell, build a conduit, and channel magic from Equestria to help mass-cast the counterspell."

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "And just how long will that take?"

"Not as long as you might think," said Twilight. "Sunset discovered that two objects can be thaumically entangled: whatever happens to one instantaneously happens to the other. I'm going to build the equivalent of a magic mirror that allows matter and energy to freely flow between universes. It's several orders of magnitude more efficient than her original portal, and it will have the side-effect of making the establishment of formal relations with this world far easier."

"So the other end will be in Canterlot?" asked Starlight.

Twilight smiled. "No. The Crystal Empire."

"Uhh, I don't follow."

"It's actually quite simple," said Twilight. "I'm going to have the ponies of the Crystal Empire feed all their energy into the Crystal Heart. I'll piggyback the counterspell on that energy stream, feed it through the mirror, and in turn channel it through the crystal ponies of this world. I'm estimating that will cover about eighty to eighty-five percent of the affected population."

"I'm afraid I've lost the thread of this conversation," said Anthony.

Starlight smirked. "You're not the only one, but I'm used to that with Twilight. I'm also wary when she explains a complex plan like that and claims it's simple."

"Let me first explain for Mr. Heller's benefit," said Twilight. "In my world, we have a place called the Crystal Empire. It's populated by crystal ponies and currently ruled over by my brother Shining Armor and his wife Princess Cadance. They have a magical artifact called the Crystal Heart. The ponies have the ability to channel positive emotions into the Heart to generate very powerful magical effects. For example, the Empire is in the frozen wastes where the weather cannot be tamed even by pegasi. The Crystal Heart helps maintain a shield against it. When the Heart had accidentally been shattered, even Celestia and Luna working together couldn't hold back the cold indefinitely. It was also used to help defeat an evil unicorn named Sombra who attempted to enslave the inhabitants."

"I believe I follow," said Anthony. "At least to the limits of my non-magical background."

"Even I don't see exactly how this will work," said Starlight. "I can see the first part working, yeah, and I could see you attaching the counterspell to it. It's that last part I'm not sure of."

"I know, I'm making a large assumption about crystal pony abilities," said Twilight. "That's why I want to consult with Sunburst. He was the one who came up with the spell combo that repaired the Heart. You told me that since then he's been doing more research into how the Crystal Heart works. I'm hoping that means he's learned more about the crystal ponies' connection to it."

"It does sound like a bit of a gamble," Anthony said.

"Anything we do is a gamble, Mr. Heller," said Twilight. "The only difference is the odds of winning, and I feel this has the greatest chance of success." She paused. "I have another reason why I think this will work, but I want to talk to Star Singer first."





Star Singer uttered a forlorn sigh as she stared at the monitor depicting Sunset's room. As she watched, white-coated technicians adjusted an IV containing the sedative that Star Singer had helped formulate. Sunset twitched, as if still somehow fighting from the depths of unconsciousness. The unmarking sign pulsed once, and she stilled.

Star could not look at that horrible equals sign without her stomach turning. As much as she knew Sunset had to be taken out, she had no idea such a terrible spell even existed. Even though she lamented over how much trouble her own cutie mark caused, she would never have agreed to give it up.

Star Singer frowned. She found it all too easy now to justify her initial mistrust of Starlight Glimmer. Had she known Starlight could do this, she may never have agreed to work with Twilight in the first place.

Her expression softened, and she shook her head at her own foolishness. No, working with Twilight had been the right thing to do from the start. This changed nothing. Whatever sinister intent Starlight once had concerning the spell, it didn't matter now. Like Star Singer's own talent, it had been put to a good use.

Even if she still felt a lingering guilt over betraying an old friend.

"Star Singer?"

Star whirled around in surprise at the sound of the Equestrian language. "Twilight? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work on--"

Twilight stepped up to her. "I've finished enchanting the gems. They're being taken to the transmission towers now. Frankly, I could use another break."

Only then did Star notice how haggard Twilight looked. She never thought she would see an alicorn of Twilight's ability actually overtaxed. "Have you come to check on Sunset's condition?"

"Not specifically." Twilight glanced at the monitor. "But how is she?"

"As good as can be expected," Star said. "I'm doing my best not to harm her, but I don't fully understand how their chemicals work."

"Just do the best you can," said Twilight. "Even if Sunset awakes, she shouldn't be able to do much without her cutie mark."

Star felt her stomach twist again but managed to ignore it. "Does it sound strange that I actually feel sorry for Sunset?"

Twilight sighed. "I think I've felt that way since this started, now for more reasons than one."

Star Singer shook her head. "I don't mean what the natives might do to her. It's more fundamental than that. We can agree that Sunset was wrong to forcefully transform another species, but what about her ultimate goal? Was it wrong to want to see ponykind safe?"

"Not at all. I share that goal as well, just not her methods for achieving it."

Star turned back towards the monitor, her eyes glistening. "I'm sorry, I guess seeing Sunset ... unmarked hit me harder than I realized. It's not just her talents ripped away, her purpose was taken as well. She's lost everything that was dear to her."

"This hurts me as well," Twilight said in a somber voice. "But we can't lose sight of the fact that she brought this on herself. Nopony else is to blame. Especially not you."

"She acted on my visions, Twilight."

"Star Singer, please--"

"I can't even take solace in the fact that my visions helped stop it as well." Star turned to Twilight. "But never mind all that. It's my problem to deal with. You should be more worried about yourself. You look like you're ready to drop."

"I'm tired, but I can endure," Twilight said. "Which brings me to the reason I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk to you about your visit to that other plane."

"You heard pretty much everything that Triss told me," said Star.

"I want to hear what your impressions of her are," said Twilight. "What sort of power do you think she possesses?"

"I honestly don't know," said Star. "She claimed to be the equivalent of Princess Celestia, so I would assume at least as powerful as her. Why do you ask?"

"You told me after we captured Sunset that Triss actually incurred your healing trance," said Twilight. "That suggests she has some ability to influence events in the physical realm. She clearly knew about Sunset and what she was doing."

Star had indeed wondered about that, but only after the fact. At the time, she was too desperate to convey her vision to Sunset in hopes of stopping her. "I wish I had been of the presence of mind to ask her more questions. Can you find a way to visit her realm and speak with her yourself?"

"I'll need Celestia's help with that, but, yes, I do want to talk to her, preferably before we attempt to cast the counterspell."

Star gave Twilight a look of genuine curiosity. "Why? Do you need her help?"

"In a way," Twilight said. "As I got to thinking about this, I realized that the presence of the crystal ponies among the transformed humans is almost too convenient. Starlight and I know for a fact that Sunset never planned for them. Crystal pony abilities are too complex to come about by just a random genetic or thaumic shift."

"Are you saying you think Triss had something to do with it?"

"She's the only known native magical being in this universe," said Twilight. "And if she really is billions of years old, she's had time to refine her knowledge of magic to an incredible degree."

Star considered. "But if she does have all that power and knowledge, why not just fix everything herself?"

"That's what I'm getting at," said Twilight. "Triss is the equivalent of an alicorn. Equestrian alicorns are powerful, but we have limits. Making such a fundamental change to Sunset's transformation spell without her knowledge, and from a concealed plane of existence seems to break those limits. And if she can break that limit, why not just completely disrupt the transformation spell in the first place?"

Star slowly nodded. "I guess I hadn't considered that when I first spoke to her."

"My point is, either there's something I'm missing about alicorn abilities, or Triss has a hidden agenda," said Twilight. "I don't like the former any more than the latter as it implies there's still something Celestia is keeping from me."





Kevin rushed into the conference room in time to hear Sandra raise her voice in exasperation as she said, "I'm really getting tired of arguing semantics with you, Mr. Heller!"

"This is hardly just a matter of word play, Doctor Marlowe," said Anthony in a urgent voice. "If you don't care for the term 'brainwashing,' then offer me a more scientific term."

"We've never dealt with something like this before. We don't know how much of their changed mental attitudes are indeed just indirect results of the transformation as Twilight suggested or a genuine attempt to influence their thoughts."

"I am more concerned with this shared dream than--"

"And until we know more, that's all it appears to be."

Kevin took a seat next to Sandra. "What's going on?"

Sandra uttered an exasperated sigh. "We're still trying to get a handle on what happened to the transformed patients last night, but Mr. Heller here seems bent on assuming a final diagnosis."

"The point I am trying to make," said Anthony. "Is that we need to know sooner rather than later the mental state of these people if you want the plan to release them to move forward."

"I beg your pardon?" said Kevin. "I had suggested that decision be left to the emergency zone staff."

"Yes, your suggestion was passed up the line and rejected."

Kevin frowned. "May I ask why?"

"We don't know if these transformed patients are in their right mind," said Anthony. "That makes them a potential threat to national security, which is already hanging by a thread."

"And what do you propose we do when they decide to break out themselves?" Kevin asked. "Stop them by force?"

"I'll remind you there are many non-lethal ways to stop a riot."

"And just how many of those methods have been proven to work against magic?"

"I'm all for exercising caution," Sandra said. "Remember, I was reluctant to go along with this idea at first, but Kevin is right, we can't keep them cooped up forever."

"Twilight had volunteered to talk to them," said Kevin.

"She's been on the verge of exhaustion since she finished enchanting the artifacts," said Anthony. "I'd rather she concentrate her limited energy on stopping ETS. Until she can turn her attention more to this, I want to err on the side of caution."

Sandra consulted one of her folders. "As far as we can tell, the impact of this dream is largely due to the shared nature rather than some direct attempt to alter their minds. Much of the details of their conversation with the alicorn are based on their most recent personal issues. It could be just their own minds 'filling in the blanks' so to speak."

"Or it could be Sunset knowing exactly which buttons to push in people's heads," said Anthony. "That would qualify as direct manipulation to me."

"I agree there was manipulation here," Sandra said. "What I'm unable to quantify right now is how much direct interference took place. A smooth-talking politician can influence the masses with a good speech, but we don't call that brainwashing. I need to know more about the nature of this dream before I can make a definitive statement about their mental state."

Kevin folded his hands and leaned forward slightly. "I just spoke with Heather, a person who I've worked with for many years. She's fully transformed, and a crystal pony as well. When I put it to her that we had a cure and that she might assist in its distribution, she said she would be willing to help. To me, that seems like she's thinking for herself."

Sandra looked at Anthony. "I'd like you to admit your real reasons behind your interest in their mental state. I can probably guess."

Anthony leaned back in his chair. "Twilight has promised that she will seek a way to transform back all those she can. Despite the fact that magic will be involved, it still amounts to a medical procedure."

"I see where this is going," said Kevin. "The lack of desire on the part of the patients to be changed back, and hence the lack of consent."

"Thousands of permanently transformed people can be handled, but millions would--"

"Handled?" Kevin snapped. "Just how do you intend to 'handle' them? Confine them to their own little ghettos? Or maybe force them to live on plots of the worst lands in the country, since that worked out so well in the past."

"Hyperbole is unnecessary, Doctor Conner," Anthony said. "And they appear to be confining themselves. None of their plans involve living in harmony with humans."

"Nor do they advocate open hostility. If anything, they're avoiding conflict as much as possible. They were outright friendly with me when I visited the shelter. That hardly seems like the start of an armed revolt."

"This whole argument becomes a moot point if these transformed patients can be declared mentally incompetent," Anthony said in a raised voice. "They can then be transformed back without having to worry about consent."

"You're putting an awfully large number of eggs in one basket, Mr. Heller," Kevin declared. "We have absolutely no idea how quickly cutie marks are attained."

"All the more reason not to let them gather unsupervised in communities. You've claimed in the past that we need to be practical, Doctor Conner. Is that not the most practical alternative to prevent widespread permanence of the transformation?"

Kevin uttered an exasperated sigh. Of course that was the more practical solution! Anyone could see that, but he had hoped to find a balance between the practical and the humane. His exposure to Twilight had made him appreciate just how much alike humans and ponies were; perhaps that had colored his judgment somewhat.

So many of the affected townsfolk were his patients. If that biased him, it should have been towards finding a way to change them back at all costs. Yet what he ultimately wanted was for his patients to be happy. He didn't know enough about what was going on in their heads to say whether that happiness was induced or real.

"The fact still remains," said Sandra in a level voice. "I absolutely will not allow a diagnosis to be made or assumed as to the mental state of the transformed without sufficient investigation."

"Mr. Heller, please be straight with me," said Kevin. "I've appreciated your candor in the past and would like more of that now. Are there any contingency plans for the presence of a large, permanently transformed pony population?"

"Define 'large,'" said Anthony.

"Worst case scenario: the fifty million people in the US with ETS all transform and stay that way. That's something like fifteen percent of the population."

Anthony laced his fingers together. "There's two possible extremes we're considering. One, the transformed shake off this pony commune mentality and seek reintegration into human society."

"So that's the idealistic vision?"

"Not really. The worry is that magic would allow the transformed to out-compete nontransformed humans in certain employment sectors. Earth pony abilities versus human farmers, for example. It would take the 'immigrants are taking jobs away from Americans' debate to a whole new level."

"I thought the President was adamant that the transformed were still Americans," said Kevin.

"Yes, well, unlike Sunset, he doesn't have the ability to plant an idealistic dream in people's heads while they sleep. We're trying to be realistic about people's perceptions."

Kevin admitted to having shielded himself from a lot of modern political debates. Deciding who to vote for each election cycle was a tedious chore of looking up information on the candidates and trying to separate the wheat from the chaff. He could actually see the benefits of a society that seemed to place mutual concern over petty politics. "And at the other end of the spectrum?"

"They continue to seek to live together and largely apart from humans," Anthony explained. "In that case, where can they go? Where should they be allowed to go? There is very little property in this country that's not owned by someone or some entity."

"Many of the transformed own property."

"For which they can no longer pay their mortgages and taxes," said Anthony. "The economy is already in free-fall. Banks and lenders are not about to forgive all these debts. They'll want to collect or foreclose just to stay afloat. Having a partially transformed world is almost worse than a completely transformed one, and certainly worse than a wholly untransformed one."

Kevin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to shout that money should be the least of everyone's worries. He never let the immediate lack of payment options ever stop him from treating a patient. "What about BLM lands? Isn't that something like two hundred fifty million acres of land owned by the federal government? A huge chunk of that is right here where ETS is at its worst."

"Yes, but realize over half of that is leased to ranchers as grazing lands, not to mention lands administered for the coal, oil, natural gas, and timber industries," said Anthony. "And we're ignoring the more basic problem: millions of people who now have no use for money, no willingness to be in the labor force, and no longer purchasing billions of dollars of human-oriented consumer goods. So you can see why I have been adamant about completely reversing the effects of ETS. We just don't know how to make a pony society work in the context of our current socioeconomic structure, and we'd be better off if we didn't have to deal with it in the first place."

"I appreciate that someone is looking at this in the long term," said Kevin in a strained voice. "But, meanwhile, we have a looming short term problem. You talked about perception, Mr. Heller. Right now, we have a growing population of American citizens who now consider their quarantine to be unethical."

"Technically, they still have a disease."

"Which is no longer contagious and has given them abilities that we have no clear means to stop or curtail. This is a very extraordinary situation which requires extraordinary solutions."

"Be that as it may--"

"Mr. Heller, if there is any chance that Twilight could fail in her endeavor to change people back, the last thing we want to do is instill resentment in them now," Kevin said. "We either give them their freedom or they'll take it for themselves!"

Anthony made an exasperated noise before turning to Sandra. "Do you have an opinion, Doctor Marlowe?"

Sandra took a deep breath before consulting her notes. "Just an observation. Food supplies are having a harder time getting to us. Where the transformed -- as well as those with ETS that has progressed far enough -- cannot eat meat, this is putting a strain on supplies of greens, vegetables, and grains. Eventually, we'll be hard-pressed to meet the demand. We have no idea how long it will take to change them back. The sooner they can start sustaining themselves, the better."

Anthony sighed and leaned back in his seat, covering his eyes with a hand.

"I also should point out that we have more ETS cases outside the shelters than inside. They're already coming together for mutual support and protection. Unless you have plans to round them up, too, I don't see the point in keeping our patients confined."

"Look at it this way, Mr. Heller," said Kevin. "We have only the vaguest notions of how a pony society works. Wouldn't this be an opportunity to learn what to expect? Not to mention if we keep interacting with them, they'll be reminded that they're sharing this world with humans."

Anthony tapped his finger on the table for a long moment. "All right, let me take this under advisement." He stood. "I need to attend a briefing with the Bureau director. We can sync up again later."

He turned on his heel and marched out.

Kevin uttered a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. "That could've went better."

"I share your frustrations, Kevin," said Sandra. "But he does have a point that there is some question as to the mental state of the transformed."

"I firmly believe that they can think for themselves," said Kevin. "They just need some time and direction. You told me yourself that Fred was debating with the others on the merits of their shared vision."

"And you told me how Laura reacted when she was given the truth about Sunset," said Sandra. "She still wants to remain a pony."

"That doesn't make her mentally incompetent."

"But it's still not normal."

"Sandra, I think a lot of our conventions have been thrown out the window," said Kevin. "I don't think we even know what's normal anymore."





Twilight stepped around the runic circle for perhaps the tenth time, her horn glowing. Blue light flickered inside the circle, reflecting from her bloodshot eyes, only to wink out after a few seconds. She finally uttered a noisy sigh as she fell to her haunches. "Almost there."

"You sound awfully tired," said Starlight.

Twilight looked towards the window, where the sunlight had grown ruddy and the shadows long. "You're not sounding very peppy yourself."

"I'll manage. Maybe you should take a break."

Twilight shook her head and rose to her hooves. "I have to get this portal open." She turned towards Starlight. "We can't risk you tiring yourself out."

Starlight rubbed her head near the base of her horn. "I'm more concerned about this headache. I've never constantly streamed magic for this long."

"Then I definitely need to get this portal open. That could be a precursor of mana saturation."

Starlight lowered her hoof. "What exactly is that?"

"It has to do with the way your thaumic channels work," Twilight explained. "They get temporarily locked into the mode of a single spell execution, making it harder to cast new spells until they recover."

"Oh, fun," Starlight muttered.

"The last thing we need is either of us out of commission for any length of time." She glanced at a nearby table, where the pages she had found in Sunset's stash lay. "And I still need to finish Sunset's spell. At least I understand it enough to know what materials I'll need."

As Twilight turned her attention and magic back to the portal, Starlight stepped up to her, Sunset's cutie mark held a bit lower in her grip than earlier. "How long do you think it will take to finish the spell and build the conduit?"

"If I can focus full time on it and can enlist the aid of mages back home, two days."

"That's slim timing. The thaumic pulse will delay new transformations by at most two days. It might be only one."

Twilight frowned as light flickered and faded inside the runic circle again. "I know. I worked extra hard on crafting the matrix in the gems and crystals to make the pulse as strong as possible. I need those two days." The flickering blue light inside the circle expanded into a steady swirl of magic rising in a twisting column. Energy thrummed and sent a faint vibration through the floor as the column straightened. Twilight backed away and smiled. "I've got it! The portal is unlocked!"

At the edge of the room, an army officer said, "Ma'am, does this mean that the portal can be traversed now?"

Twilight turned to him. "Yes, it's still energized at the other end."

He nodded and turned to a subordinate. "Inform the rest of the team outside. Go to highest alert level and activate intrusion contingency plans."

"Yessir," said the soldier as he saluted.

"That's not really necessary," said Twilight as the soldier headed out. "No one is going to come through here without permission."

"Sorry, ma'am, I'm just following orders."

"Apologies for these measures, Twilight," said Anthony. "It makes the folks at the Pentagon sleep better at night. The President does trust you, but he has to show that he's taking security seriously."

"Let's not argue anymore," Starlight said. "I really need a break."

"All right, I'm going to head through now," said Twilight.

"How long will you be gone?" Anthony asked.

"No more than an hour. I just need to apprise them of the situation and inform them of the materials I need. I'm going to send my assistant through with the jar that Starlight needs. He's, um, a dragon."

Anthony's eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"

"A little one!" said Twilight quickly. "Technically, a baby in dragon terms. Er, don't tell him I called him that. Just didn't want to surprise you."

"Ah, thanks for the warning," said Anthony with a faint smile.

Twilight smiled in return before turning towards the portal. She hesitated only a second before stepping inside and vanishing a moment later.





The first thing Twilight heard as she stepped through the other end and into the midst of a late-night skeleton staff of mages was Spike's voice. "It's activating! Something is--" He gasped. "TWILIGHT!"

Several mages stared in astonishment as Twilight called out, "I need a jar made of thaumically-aware glass right now! Spike, I'll need you to -- oh!"

Spike had launched himself toward her and wrapped his arms around her chest. "Twilight, you're alive! You're safe!"

Twilight smiled and hugged him in return. "Sorry if I worried you," she said softly.

Spike drew back, blushing. "Worried? Me? Nah, I'm just, um, hugging you for dear life because others were so worried about you, that's all! That's right, it's hugs from them."

"I'll get that jar for you right away, Princess," said one of the mages before galloping off.

"Spike, I need you to send a letter to Celestia," said Twilight.

"You got it!" Spike said as he scurried off towards one of the workbenches.

"The portal is unlocked," said an older mage. "Shall we keep it open, Princess?"

"Yes, please do," said Twilight. "And I'm going to compose a list of materials I need procured at once. I can't emphasize enough how fast they need to be provided. I also need Sunburst summoned from the Crystal Empire."

"He's already here. Princess Cadance had him bring Princess Flurry Heart."

"Thank you! That just may save some time."

"Ready!" Spike said as he ran back carrying scroll and quill.

"Dear Princess Celestia," Twilight dictated. "I need to speak with you--"

Two flashes of teleportation magic briefly turned the room white.

"--at once." Twilight blinked. "Uhh, never mind, then."

Both Luna and Celestia stepped forward. "I sensed the energy surge from the portal, Twilight, and awoke my sister," said Luna.

"Twilight, it's good to see you again," said Celestia. "But you look something of a fright. Are you all right?"

"Just very tired," said Twilight. "We've only just managed to subdue Sunset Shimmer. Now I have to undo the damage she's caused."

The mage returned, a jar hovering in his magical grip. "Here you are, Princess."

"Thank you." Twilight took it from him and presented it to Spike. "Spike, take this through the portal and give it to Starlight on the other side. You can come right back after that."

Spike took the jar, giving the portal a nervous glance. Loyalty won out over fear, and he nodded. "Got it. Be right back!"

As Spike headed off, Celestia took a deep breath before asking in a solemn voice, "How bad is it?"

"Very bad," said Twilight. "Thousands already fully transformed, many millions more in the process. I have a counterspell, but it needs to be cast over such a wide area that I've had to get inventive. I need to talk to Sunburst."

"Twilight, do they understand that we only want peace?" said Celestia in a quavering voice.

"I've made that very clear to them, Celestia. If they trust me enough to let me help them, I think they'll trust me that far as well."

"I am willing to come through the portal myself to help cast the counterspell," said Celestia.

"As am I," said Luna.

"Thank you, but the scale of this is beyond even all the collective alicorn abilities." Twilight paused. "Or at least I think they are, anyway."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Celestia.

Twilight stepped up to her former mentor. "You told me before that you were sorry you weren't more open with me. I want you to continue honoring that. If there is anything at all about alicorn abilities and powers that I don't know about, I need you to divulge them."

Luna gave her sister a questioning look.

Celestia responded in a soft voice, "I will provide whatever information you need."

"All you need to do right now is answer a simple question." Twilight's horn glowed, and she snatched the paper with the power equations for Celestia from the workbench. She held up the page for Celestia to see. "Is this correct?"

"To a point," said Celestia. "It is not the whole story."

"May I see?" Luna asked. She took the page in her own magic. After a moment of study, she raised an eyebrow. "Would there be an analysis of my potential by any chance?"

"Um, sort of," said Twilight. She levitated the equations for Nightmare Moon.

"This is actually more useful." Luna studied it for a little longer. "Is this supposed to be accurate?"

"According to Sunset," said Celestia in a somber voice.

"But I verified it myself," said Twilight. "It all fits with my own observations."

Luna looked at her sister. "You apparently have not told her."

Twilight noted that Luna's voice held no admonishment. It was more a statement of fact than anything else.

"Only because Twilight is not yet close to that threshold in power," said Celestia. "I did not feel it was worth worrying her about it, but circumstances have made it necessary to inform her now." Celestia sighed. "Had I known Sunset was basing all her beliefs on her lack of this knowledge, I would have educated her as well."

Before Twilight could interject, her assistant barreled out of the portal. "I'm back! Boy, those natives looked weirder than I thought they would."

Twilight turned towards him. "Did you have any trouble?"

"Other than I couldn't understand a word they were saying, no. Wow, did Starlight really take Sunset's cutie mark?"

Celestia's eyes widened. "She did what?"

"It was the only way to subdue Sunset," said Twilight. "But they have no thaumically-aware materials on that world, so I had to unlock her portal to get some. Celestia, what is it you haven't told me about alicorns? Is it something that allows you to break your normal limits?"

"In a way, yes," said Celestia. "In a useful fashion ... often not. I will explain in greater detail, but I am curious as to how you knew to ask about this."

"Star Singer met the other universe's equivalent of an alicorn," said Twilight. "She's also immortal and immensely old. She looks something like a dragon, and ... um ... Celestia, are you all right?"

Celestia's eyes shimmered, and her mouth had fallen open.

Luna jerked her gaze towards her and said, "Sister, could she be the one you told me about? The one who warned you when you first reached the threshold?"

"Wait, you know this creature?" Twilight asked.

"I may," Celestia said softly. "Twilight, how much time do you have before you have to return to the other world?"

"Not long," said Twilight. "I have to compile a list of materials and speak with Sunburst about a potential solution to mass-casting the counterspell. Cadance and Shining Armor should hear about it as well. As much as I would love to sleep in my own world, I don't want to leave the natives alone. They're drawing on me for emotional strength as well as my knowledge."

"Then I will keep this as succinct as possible," said Celestia. "Becoming an alicorn is but the first threshold. When a second threshold is reached, an immensely larger pool of power can be tapped, but it is very hard to control. Both myself and Luna have reached that second threshold. The side-effects of that threshold are our ethereal manes and our immortality."

"That pool of power is so volatile that we pledged not to use it," said Luna. "A pledge I attempted to break when I tapped into it to become Nightmare Moon, believing -- incorrectly -- that I had discovered the means to control it properly."

"That is why I was forced to banish her," said Celestia. "I had to protect Equestria from Luna potentially losing control of that magic. It was why I was unable to stop her when she returned. It was also why I was unable to stop Chrysalis when she attacked Canterlot. Had I tapped into that power, I could have easily destroyed her, but I would have killed everypony else in the room."

Twilight never forgot that moment. Seeing her mentor fall, seeing and even smelling the severe mana burn on Celestia's horn had completely shattered her illusions of Celestia's invincibility.

"I strongly suspect we were granted such power only as a last resort," said Celestia. "To counter the most severe of threats to Equestria, ones in which the collateral damage would be better than a complete fall."

"My sister and I have spoken on this ever since your final confrontation with Starlight Glimmer," said Luna. "We strongly suspect the wasteland timeline was either or both of us tapping into that power and losing control of it."

Twilight shuddered. In all the scenarios she could think of as to how such a catastrophe could have come about, she never once thought that Celestia or Luna could have been directly responsible. Yet what really made her shiver was a deeper implication. "Celestia ... what about ... what about me? Do I--?"

"Yes, Twilight," said Celestia. "You have the potential to reach that second threshold. You grow closer to it every year. I've been watching very carefully for it, so I can help you cross it peacefully."

"Peacefully?"

"The first time an alicorn is opened to that pool of magic, it can come out rather explosively," said Celestia. "But I was warned of it in a dream, and in that dream was a creature very similar to what you described. I sensed she was older than I could ever imagine."

Twilight gasped. "Star Singer said that Triss had tried to reach out to you several times, when the universes were linked by a natural portal!"

Celestia smiled. "Then the creature from my dream may have been her. Thanks to that warning, I was able to better control the transition, and I in turn helped Luna. I will be there for you if and when it happens."

Twilight felt like her head was spinning. She had already only barely absorbed the revelation about her suppressed memories and a family member she never knew she had, now everything she thought she knew about alicorns was being challenged as well. "As much as I am dying to ask for more details, I don't have the time. I have to start preparing to cast the counterspell."

"I will gather the others at once while you work with the mages to procure what you need," said Celestia. "We will fix the damage Sunset has wrought no matter what it takes."

"I will stay with Twilight and assist her if needed," said Luna.

"Thank you, sister."

Twilight approached Luna after Celestia had teleported away. "I wanted to ask this of Celestia, but I imagine she would seek your advice for something this important."

"And what would that be?"

"Whether to leave Sunset to the humans to be judged or return her to Equestria."

Luna considered. "I am told that these natives were a warlike species when last contacted."

"They've largely given up their imperial traditions," said Twilight. "But they still are a more aggressive species. There's still a lot of mistrust among their various nation-states. Their justice is harsher than we're used to. If we let them judge her, I doubt very much she'll live long enough to understand exactly what was so wrong about what she has done."

Luna turned more fully towards Twilight. "Unfortunately, you may be the most able to make this decision. You've been in contact with these natives and understand them more than either my sister or I."

Twilight shivered. "I don't want to have to do this."

"Twilight," Luna said in a voice both gentle and urgent. "I know you are loathe to be known by your title, but the fact still remains: you are a Princess. Being a Princess means having to accept such burdens. I have lost track of the many heavy decisions that Tia and I have had to make in the past."

Twilight cast her glistening gaze at Luna. "But did they involve other ponies' lives?"

"All our decisions involve ponies' lives," said Luna. "Even when we are not deciding on the fate of a specific pony, everything we do has a ripple effect. Yours will have such an effect on the natives of that world as well as the ponies of ours."

"How can I look my own family in the eye and tell them I gave their flesh and blood over to be executed?!" Twilight cried. "No, Luna, there's got to be some sort of compromise that can be reached. There has to be a way to make Sunset understand."
> Chapter 45 - Doubt and Resolve
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Before she left, Laura suggested that if they give us a choice of where to go, we should go a few miles north of town, closer to Green Mountain," said Emma.

"Did she say why?" asked Kelly.

"We're in a sort of valley here," said Joan. "It will be easier for us pegasi to keep rain clouds contained, at least until we're more proficient at this."

"There's also a lake near Green Mountain," Emma explained. "It will be a good source of water from evaporation."

"Won't we have to worry about it running out?" asked Kelly.

"Not really. There are lots of ways to tap moisture from the atmosphere. We just want to start small until we get better at this. Laura thinks once we actually get into the open skies, we'll start to better sense the overall flow of air and moisture across the Front Range."

"What about seeds to start crops?"

"I've got that covered," said Chris. "I started buying agricultural supplies in anticipation of spring. I've got some seed stores."

"Won't it take time for them to grow?" Kelly asked.

Joan's husband waved a hoof. "Earth ponies got this. There's still plenty of native plants and flowers we can eat in the interim. I think we can hasten that along at least."

"Laura mentioned we should be thinking of the other towns nearby," said Joan.

"Of course," said Chris. "Ponies never hoard."

Fred narrowed his eyes. Despite the peaceful nature of the ponies around him, he couldn't help but be reminded of his days in Afghanistan. His missions were often to contain or push back the enemy; he wasn't about to be asked to convince the Taliban to change their deeply held religious or social convictions. That was what he felt he was up against here.

"Not just supplies, though," said Emma. "Laura thought a contingent of pegasi should fly to towns like Breckenridge and see how they're doing."

"That's a great idea," said Emma's father. "Let them know that they're not alone in this."

Fred also noted how Laura was still seen as their tacit leader even in her absence. While he had not wanted to compete against her, he had hoped her departure would have left a power vacuum that he could fill.

Much of their planning simply made sense. He certainly didn't want to be a burden, and he imagined the others didn't, either. Planning a self-sustaining community was really a no-brainer. He wanted to think they would figure this out without a shared vision.

"I had heard that some humans were being hostile towards ponies," said Kelly in a nervous voice. "Wouldn't flying everywhere open you up to attack?"

"We're going to have to take some chances," said Chris. "Ponies always help other ponies."

"I know, I just wouldn't want to lose any of my friends."

"I don't think we need to worry as much about that. I feel that we'll be protected."

Fred's fore-hoof shot up. "Whoa, wait. Protected by who?"

Chris turned to him and smiled. "By God."

"And just where did God show up in all this?"

"I felt it was implied by the vision," said Chris.

Fred frowned. "That white mare was no god."

"No, but I took her to be an incarnation of the Virgin Mary."

Fred had never been particularly religious himself, but he had educated himself about religious faith due to the diversity of people he might encounter when he was still with Special Forces. "You're Catholic, right?"

"Yes, that's right," said Chris.

Fred looked around. "Any other Catholics here?"

Joan and her husband tentatively raised their hooves. "Um, more like lapsed Catholics, though," said Joan. "We don't go to church as often as maybe we should."

"But we've always seen Chris there when we did," said her husband.

"Did either of you see that creature as Mary?" Fred asked.

Joan averted her eyes briefly. "Well, not really, but I could see why some might."

Fred turned to the others. "Do any of you feel funny about Chris' interpretation?"

"I don't," said Emma. "I'm not all that religious myself, but I don't see why I should be upset that Chris wants to interpret it that way."

Other ponies nodded their heads in agreement.

Fred pointed a hoof at Chris. "And how do you feel about others not seeing that creature as Mary?"

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," said Chris.

"Does it bother you any?"

"Why should it? They have different beliefs than I do. It shouldn't change what we're doing or how I feel. There are no barriers to friendship."

"I'm afraid I have to echo Chris' confusion," said Emma's father. "Just what are you getting at, Fred?"

Fred was desperate to latch onto anything that would shatter the perception of some benevolent spirit setting them on the road to pony utopia while at the same time avoiding disrupting their plans to meet the new challenges arising from their transformation. He was afraid that telling them the truth behind the vision would again paint him as crazy in the head.

He certainly didn't want everypony at each other's throats over their religions convictions. If anything, this reaction should be a breath of fresh air. He had seen enough religion-inspired violence to last him a lifetime.

Fred glanced back to Joan. She and her husband were speaking quietly but urgently to one another.

"It all comes back to what I was saying before," said Fred. "I'm trying to distinguish between the message and the messenger. Did the message of the vision make sense? From a practical standpoint, yes. But the messenger may have her own agenda. Maybe if that creature hadn't appeared, and we were left to draw our own conclusions, I'd feel better about it. Instead, I feel like she was there to make sure we had only one interpretation: hers."

"But what if that is the right interpretation?" Emma asked.

"Define 'right.'" said Fred.

Emma hesitated. "Well ... what other interpretation is there? We have these abilities, we know we're going to have to help each other to survive, so doesn't it make sense to follow her?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Follow her? This creature is your leader now?"

Emma's ears drew back slightly. "I didn't quite mean it that way. I meant more follow what she said and showed us."

"Okay, let's come back to something you said before. You said you didn't mind Chris seeing the creature as the Virgin Mary."

Emma nodded. "Yes. It's what Chris said, there's no barriers to friendship."

"And yet you're arguing with me about the interpretation of the vision, as if there is One True Way to interpret it. Isn't that a bit of a contradiction?"

When Emma gave him a distressed look, her father wrapped a fore-leg around her barrel and said, "With all due respect, Fred, why are you trying to shoot down this vision?"

"I'm not, actually," said Fred. "I'd absolutely love a world of peace and friendship. When we finally get turned loose, I'm going to be standing with the rest of you to make this work. What I'm getting at is this: I would much rather you all looked at the aspects of the vision and decide just purely on their merits whether you take them to heart or not, and not because somepony came along at the end and said 'oh, by the way, this means kindness, this means generosity' and so on."

The other ponies glanced at each other with expressions ranging from outright confusion to genuine thoughtfulness. Joan nodded to her husband before stepping towards Fred. "We think we see what you're getting at, Fred. The truth is, when Chris mentioned his take on it, we did start to wonder if maybe he was right, and this was some way of calling us back into the fold."

"The Church would always welcome you back," said Chris gently.

"Yes, I know, but ... we had our reasons for lapsing, and those really haven't changed. I'm very grateful for your understanding, and I guess that's one reason why I want to believe in this vision. It lets my husband and I decide for ourselves what we really believe in terms of God without being judged."

"You just made my point for me," Fred said. "You looked at part of that vision and said 'hey, this works for me, I'm going for it.' I'm the last pony who would ever advocate fighting over beliefs, but at the same time, I don't think anypony should tell you what to believe."

"I guess I still don't quite understand," said Emma. "But I think you really do care about the rest of us. I really struggle now to see you as a lot of ponies thought of you before all this started."

In that simple statement, Fred realized that this was a struggle for him as well. He had been granted what had been denied to him for so long: a network of friends who seemed to really care about him. He talked about separating the message from the messenger, but when that messenger was somepony who had sent him through hell for the past twenty years, it was difficult not to want to find a reason to reject the message outright.

"Thank you, Emma," Fred said softly. "I really appreciate that."

"I'm afraid I'm not going to waver in what I believe, Fred," said Chris. "But I'm not about to impose it on others. You make a good point. I would love to have others see things as I do, but they have to choose to do so."

Fred smiled. He had finally managed to make them think. Maybe they would go on to create some sort of idealistic society, but it would be because they wanted to, and not because Sunset Shimmer dictated it.





"So, um, I suppose it's nice having your sister back, huh?"

Jenny had not realized that her conversation with James had lapsed into another awkward silence until he spoke. She had to look around to see what part of the shelter they had wandered into, as she had been moving mostly on automatic. "Yeah, it's nice, actually," Jenny said with all sincerity, though her voice was a bit distant.

James' ears swiveled slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No, why?" Jenny replied more by reflex than anything else.

"Something's off about your voice. Are you and Laura still having issues?"

"Things have never been better between us," said Jenny. "Whatever the hell happened when I was little doesn't seem to be bothering her anymore."

James tilted his head. "What do you mean 'whatever the hell happened?' I thought you agreed it was a storm that you just don't remember."

Jenny sighed. "I'm not sure I really want to get into this."

"Come on, you've started to open up to me in the last day or so," said James. "Don't shut down now."

Jenny gazed at James, her eyes glistening slightly. "Okay, I'll tell you, but I want you to treat this seriously."

James' ears rose. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's going to sound like my fantasies again. It's not. I don't know what it is."

"It's really bothering you, though."

Jenny realized that trying to keep any sort of emotional issue from a fellow pony was next to impossible. Too many cues betrayed her feelings, everything from the movement of her ears to even her scent. Perhaps that was why she was loathe to return to Laura despite enjoying their better relationship; she didn't want Laura to pick up on it and get the wrong idea.

"I had a dream the night before," said Jenny in a low voice. "Just before I woke up fully a pony."

"You hadn't mentioned that to me before," James said delicately. "You almost always recounted dreams to me that--"

Jenny stopped and whirled around to face him. "That's what I meant about taking me seriously. You were going to mention about how I used my dreams in my fantasies, weren't you?"

James rubbed a hoof through his mane. "Yeah, but it was just a comment, that's all. Why are you so on edge?"

Jenny stomped a fore-hoof. "I'm not!"

James glanced down at the hoof, then back at Jenny's face and smirked faintly.

"All right, maybe I am a little," said Jenny in a more contrite voice. "I have no idea why."

"So what happened in this dream?" James asked.

Jenny hesitated. "I don't remember all of it. When I first woke up, it just sort of vanished from my head. I don't know why I'm starting to remember it now. Well, no, I sorta do, but I don't know why that triggered it."

James sat on his haunches and wrapped his tail around them. "I think you better explain this in more detail."

Jenny saw the silent invitation for what it was. She had found that sitting or laying next to another pony made the moment feel more intimate. Not necessarily in a romantic sense, as she felt the same thing when close to her father. The need to accept the invite felt almost instinctual, like she simply needed the support of another pony.

She sat next to James, though she was careful not to actually press her body to his. "I was the peasant girl, and I stood near a manor destroyed by a storm." She paused. "That's all I remembered when I first woke up, but earlier today something happened that made me remember that the Fae Queen was in the dream."

James' eyes widened. "Really?"

"That's why I was afraid you wouldn't take this seriously. It didn't feel like it was part of my fantasies."

"Could it be the other way around?" James asked. "Thinking about them provoked the dream?"

"I haven't been thinking about them at all. We're living them, in a way."

"Huh. I hadn't thought about it like that."

"That's what I was told in the shared dream we all had," said Jenny. "But then when we heard about Sunny, it made me remember the Fae Queen."

"Sunny?" James asked. "Laura's friend, you mean?"

"Yeah. Supposedly she's the one who's behind all this."

James gave her a dubious look. "Are you serious?"

"I'm not sure what to think," Jenny said. "Laura was really upset at first when she heard about it, but now she seems to be over it already. She's too excited about what she can do."

"A lot of us are," said James. "But I'm still curious about this dream. What was the Fae Queen doing?"

Jenny closed her eyes as she struggled to see her murky memories. She remembered saying something, but not exactly what, or what happened after that. "All I can remember is that she caused the storm."

"She never did anything like that in your fantasies."

"Which is exactly why this is so confusing to me," Jenny said in an urgent voice. "She never did something like that in anything I ever thought up about her."

"So could this just be a random dream?"

Jenny frowned. "Well, it has to be, right? But it's weird that I forgot it, then remembered it again later. That's not how dreams work. You remember them soon as you wake up, and they fade over time unless you really focus on them. And why would hearing about Sunny trigger it? Or make me think of her as the Fae Queen?"

James blinked. "You hadn't mentioned that last part."

Jenny looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean, I ... wait ... no, I didn't." She bolted to her hooves. "I had forgotten that detail, something that happened earlier today, and now I remembered it again! What the hell?!"

James' ears had drawn back in surprise at her outburst, but now they slowly swiveled forward as he stood. "You said you were excited at seeing your sister again and hearing what she could do."

"I know, but I don't forget details like that," said Jenny. "Especially not when what Sunny supposedly did was almost exactly what the Fae Queen was doing. Something weird is going on."

"Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Oh, right, like that shared vision we all had was 'just a dream.'"

"But that was different, wasn't it?" James said in a confused voice. "It was special because we all had it."

Jenny was about to protest when she remembered what the mare had said in that vision, that Jenny had already taken steps towards being a better pony. Was all this focus on her odd dream just another manifestation of her self-centered attitudes? Was she already backsliding by making it all about herself again?

"It's just really odd, that's all," Jenny said in a subdued voice. "Maybe I'll get over it if I don't think about it too much."

"Just so you know, I wasn't trying to dismiss your dream, Jenny," said James. "I just don't like seeing you upset."

Jenny caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Laura was demonstrating flying maneuvers to four other pegasi, some of whom had only just finishing transforming that morning.

My sister can control the weather.

That thought should be familiar to her, something that made sense. Laura was a pegasus, so of course she could control the weather. Yet why did Jenny still have a vague idea in the back of her head that something was still off about this arrangement? Why would a dream she had initially forgotten now continue to pester her even as she watched her sister?

Jenny turned her head back towards James. "Thanks. I'll try not to let this bother me too much. Maybe once they finally let us out of here, things will settle down."





"I want to speak to whoever the fuck is in charge around here," Eileen protested.

"Ms. McDermott, everyone right now is really busy," said the flustered nurse who had tried unsuccessfully to get Eileen to submit to blood draw. "Now, please, if you would get back into bed and let me--"

"Fuck that, and fuck your needles. Even a blind man can see I'm perfectly fine. If I haven't started going pony by now, I'm not going to ever."

"We don't know that yet."

"Well, I do, because I'm tired of being cooped up in here," said Eileen. "Last I heard, I can't be held here against my will, so I'm discharging myself."

"There's been a change in circumstances, ma'am."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Unless some idiot in Washington decided to declare martial law, you--"

"That's exactly what we're under, Ms. McDermott," said the nurse in a slightly quavering voice.

Eileen stared for a long moment. "You're shitting me."

"I wish I were. Things have gotten that bad."

Eileen let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through her hair as she started to pace. "You're telling me the whole world is going to shit? Am I going to be one of the last humans left?"

"You'll at least have the company of the emergency zone staff," said the nurse. "We've also received the counterspell."

"Yeah, but I thought that purple pony was supposed to fix everything."

"From what I understand, ma'am, she's still working on that."

"So is that why I'm being kept here?" Eileen demanded. "Is this some sort of bunker for what's going to be left of humanity?"

"It's not that," said the nurse. "I mean, I certainly hope it won't come to that. The truth is, there's really no place for you to go."

"I can go back to my sister's house. I'm supposed to be looking after it anyway."

"But there's no food supplies coming in except for the emergency zone staff and their patients, and we have no idea how long the electric grid can stay up in this part of the country with as many people who are sick with the flu or ETS symptoms."

"What about Denver?"

"The transportation grid is still shut down. Absolutely no interstate travel allowed." The nurse paused. "Plus I've heard that things have gotten really bad there. Over half the population has ETS."

"So what you're telling me is that this is the zombie apocalypse, but the zombies are small, colorful horses," Eileen deadpanned. "I swear to God, I'm living through it and I can barely believe it. All right, how about this: can I be reunited with my son?"

"That would be Robert McDermott?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, he's in the same shelter with my sister and her husband."

"I'm not sure we can do that."

"Why the fuck not?" Eileen demanded. "I'm supposed to be cured, right? It's not like I can pick up ETS from any of them now."

"I realize that, ma'am, but we don't know what the situation in the shelters will be right now. There's talk of moving them or something like that. I don't know all the details."

"Then I want to talk to someone who does have the details. I want to see my son."

"You're not the only one who has loved ones desperate to see their family!" the nurse exploded.

Eileen flinched, her eyes widening.

"I h-have a husband and a little girl four states over," the nurse said in a choked voice, her eyes shimmering. "I've barely talked to them in the past week because I'm pulling fifteen hour shifts, and I just heard this morning that they were starting to get ETS symptoms. I have no clue if I'll get to them before they change."

Eileen swallowed. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

The nurse took a deep breath and wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand. "I'm just trying to tell you that a lot of us are in the same position you are, Ms. McDermott, but we have to make do until this is over. One way or another."

Eileen let out a ragged sigh and ran her hand through her disheveled hair. She remembered all the promises she had made to start remaking herself when this was over. Yet now "over" seemed so far away that it was just a vanishing point in the unreachable distance. Perhaps that was just another delaying action, using the crisis to postpone the work she needed to do. Just like she had before, only then it was "when I get a little more money" or "when I get a better job," things that conveniently never seemed to materialize.

Eileen turned back to the nurse. "Okay, how about this: if the powers-that-be here can declare me healthy, then put me to work doing something."

The nurse blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't know shit about medicine, but surely you need a warm body for something? Fuck, I'll clean toilets and bedpans if that's what you need. I just want to do something to help. What good is keeping me confined to bed in a hospital room going to do any of us?"

"That's not a decision I can make," the nurse said in an uncertain voice.

"Then go find someone who can!" Eileen declared. "Look, if things are that bad and that busy around here, any help you can get could make a fix for this giant mess go faster, right?"

Eileen knew her logic was not quite solid. They needed technicians and physicians, not some loser who didn't have the sense to realize she had no business trying to raise a child. Yet this wasn't about proving to Bob or to her sister that she could be a good mother, it was about proving to herself that she could be a better person.

Becoming a pony won't solve your problems. That was what Twilight had told her. She probably would have been just as lousy a pony as she had been a human. It was time to show she could be a better human.

"All right, I'll see what I can do," said the nurse. "And thanks for putting up with my meltdown just now."

Eileen smirked. "Hell, I wish I could be as calm as you were, especially when dealing with horrible patients like me."

The nurse smiled faintly. "I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Hey, wait, before you go," Eileen called out. "What's your name?"

The nurse turned around and gave her a confused look. "Isn't it on my ..." She trailed off as she looked on her uniform where her name tag should be and saw only a discolored space. "I didn't even notice it had fallen off. My name's Linda."

"And call me Eileen, please."

Linda smiled more fully before heading out.

"Maybe the world is going to go to pony hell," Eileen muttered. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit on the sidelines and watch it happen."





When Bob was upset, especially to the point where interacting with the world felt awkward, he would retreat to his room and close the door to shut out everyone else for a while until he resolved his issue or found something to distract him.

As the day wore on, Bob felt he had become the embodiment of awkwardness. He could no longer stand despite having balanced fine on his hooves just that morning. Dark green fur covered his now fully equine legs and over much of his torso and arms. His hands could not really be called that anymore, but nor were they hooves yet. His horn had fully emerged, and when he thought his nose looked and felt like it jutted out further, Sarah had confirmed that he was developing a muzzle.

Yet not only did he have nowhere to retreat to, he felt an aching need to be close to others. If he concentrated hard enough, he could tell himself that this was all part of the induced transformation. Hearing from Sarah that somepony had actually been identified as the culprit and taken into custody had sparked some bit of introspection.

Part of his old personality still held sway, as he did not voice his needs, yet his family sensed it anyway. Somepony always remained close, Sarah more often than anypony else. Her magic replaced his useless hands, and it made him all the more eager to start using his own horn. 

He could have just accepted the rewiring of his brain, but he couldn't help but examine it more closely. It truly did seem like a program, with symbols and relationships that formed patterns. The term "runes" seemed appropriate for these symbols, and "spell" for the relationships between them. He couldn't keep these revelations to himself, and he expounded on them to Sarah.

"So you really are casting a spell when you levitate stuff, Aunt Sarah," said Bob. "You just don't think of it that way, just like you don't think about how you walk or talk. It's just wired into your skill memory."

Sarah smiled gently. She lay on her belly with her fore-hooves crossed, her tail swishing idly. "It still takes some practice to get good at it."

"You're getting better at it every hour it seems."

"I certainly hope so," said Sarah in a wistful voice.

Another urge nagged at Bob. "Are you going back to archaeology?"

"I want to," said Sarah softly. "I really want to."

Despite not quite completing his transformation, Bob had started picking up nuances in pony body language. "What's to stop you?"

"I wish you had seen the same vision as everypony else," said Sarah. "It would explain things a lot more than I ever could."

"But you said somepony was behind all this, that they did this deliberately to us. Wouldn't it follow that the vision came from her as well?"

"It probably did," said Sarah. "And maybe that was wrong, but I still can't get over how much it spoke to me. It touched on everything I've been worried about since this started."

"I can't really dispute the gist of the vision," said Bob. "Working together as a peaceful society makes sense if we're going to survive. It's just that it seemed to touch everypony personally."

Sarah sighed. "It did."

It was easy for Bob to subsume himself to this vision by proxy. He might even see it for himself if he were fully pony by morning. His adoptive family had never been this close. Wasn't that alone worth all the initial turmoil?

He raised a misshapen hand and stared at it. He wanted it to be a hoof. He wanted this to be over, but he felt like he needed to get there on his own terms, no matter how much of a struggle it was. "What if ... what if that was just to make the vision stick?"

Sarah gave him a puzzled look. "I don't understand."

"Like advertising," said Bob. "It supposedly works better when targeted."

"But I still have to do something about my own faults that get in the way of us all working together," said Sarah.

That did make sense to Bob. The vision as he heard it recounted through others made everything seem so simple: follow five tenets, and everything will turn out okay. Yet wasn't that overly simplistic? Wasn't there more to it?

Failing to find fault with that, he instead turned to something that he could still examine. "Your vision was given to you by somepony who's considered a criminal."

"I know, but you can't deny that I disrupted my family more than I should have."

"Because you were pursuing something that was really important to you, and that you were very good at."

"I really appreciate your kind words, but--"

"They're not just words." Bob paused before adding, "I know you're good because I've read everything you ever wrote on archaeology, and not just after you specialized in Native Americans."

Sarah stared. "What? Really?"

Bob blushed faintly. "You started your archaeology blog back when I was six."

Sarah nodded slowly.

"Do you remember username DisplacedSon?"

"Yes, of course I do. He was my very first follower. He still follows me."

"That was me, Aunt Sarah."

Sarah's ears twitched, and her eyes widened. "H-he ... you never failed to make a comment on my posts. Every single one." Her eyes glistened. "And never failed to give me words of encouragement when I felt like my theories were being shot down without a proper hearing."

"Your theories were radical, but they deserved to be heard," Bob said.

"And they were correct," Sarah said in a quavering voice. "My theories were right, even if not quite in the way I had thought. And ... and Twilight even said maybe Sunset was behind them failing to gain traction."

Bob tilted his head. "Twilight?"

Sarah shook her head quickly, "Never mind. I'm not sure how much I should say about that, other than she said I should be free to find my own destiny."

"Then why not continue your archaeological work?"

"Bob, before I answer that, please tell me why you never said anything," said Sarah in a plaintive voice. "Why didn't you ever tell me you were that interested in my work?"

Bob sighed. "I think you know the reason."

Sarah looked thoughtful for a moment. Her ears drooped slightly. "You were worried how Harry would take it, because he was so focused on connecting with you more."

"Yes."

Sarah glanced to the side, and Bob followed her gaze. Harold and Jenny sat next to one another as they discussed plans with other earth ponies for when then were released. "I don't think you need to worry about that anymore," Sarah said, a small smile playing across her muzzle.

"Maybe not," Bob said softly. "We had a talk about it a few days ago, before he was completely pony. I think we worked it out."

"I'm really glad to hear that."

"So what about my question?" Bob asked. "Why not keep doing what you really liked?"

Sarah gave him a forlorn look. "I don't want to neglect my family again."

"I'm sure you can work through that. Maybe even more so now, if everything we've ever found important about society is being tossed out the window. For instance, how are things like money going to matter now?"

Sarah remained quiet, looking thoughtful.

"I guess there's some selfish interest at work, too," said Bob. "I can't secretly follow you from the shadows via your blog anymore."

Sarah smiled. "Are you really that interested in archaeology?"

"Maybe. I don't quite know. I just want the chance to find out, and I thought going through you was the way to do it."

Sarah's eyes shimmered. She stood, trotted over to Bob, and wrapped her fore-legs around him in a gentle hug. "I-I have to confess, I always wished my family was more interested in my work. I never knew I had my wish all along."

Bob returned the hug as best as his still morphing body would allow. "I'm sorry I never told you. I guess I was also worried about the implications that I considered you more my mother than my birth mother was."

Sarah let out a heavy sigh and hugged Bob tighter.

Bob closed his eyes and fought back tears. "My mother missed so many opportunities. I don't want to see that happen to you."

Sarah drew back from the embrace and wiped her eyes with the back of a hoof. "I don't want to give up archaeology. I've put too much of my life into it. I just need to think about it for a bit. I'm not ready to make a decision yet."

Sarah's words from earlier echoed now in Bob's head: I should be free to find my own destiny. Perhaps that was the missing piece. What was harmony without some sort of drive to do something you really cared about, even if it didn't contribute to this utopic vision? Surely there had to be room for that.

"Laura told me she was sure everything would work out in the end," Bob said.

"It will," said Sarah. "Things are better. It's just some of the details I still need to figure out."





Laura gazed at the group of pegasi that had grown from only four to fifteen in the space of only an hour. Yet in that short span of time, she had managed to get all of them flying steady and sure, and now they hovered with ease as non-pegasi friends and family looked on in awe and pride. Sometimes she was not even aware that a new one had joined until she brought them to a stop and actually did a count.

She was grateful they had trickled in. Despite her newly-found confidence, she would have found it daunting had all of them shown up at once. Even now she felt just a bit nervous. She couldn't use Sunny's words to fall back on to shore her up, even though she still wanted to reject the idea that Sunny had done anything wrong.

"Okay, now I want to show you something else, but it's kind of hard to explain," said Laura.

"Weather control?" cried a very eager twelve year old colt. His wings flapped in a blur that made a faint buzzing sound. "Please tell me you're going to teach us that!"

Laura smiled. "It's more that I want to show you how you can sense the stuff that can lead to that. You have to take it a little at a time."

"But didn't you create a rain cloud all by yourself?" asked a mare.

"And indoors!" cried a stallion.

"Not by myself," Laura said quickly. "I had two very talented friends to help me, and even then we had to puzzle it out."

"I think I can already sense some of it!" the colt said excitedly. "I told my mother that it feels more humid in here today than it did yesterday, and she just looked at me funny."

"But it is more moist today, isn't it?" said another. "I can feel it myself. I think they turned up the humidifiers since the weather's been so dry the past few days."

"I can't feel it," another pegasus said in a glum voice.

"Neither can I," echoed another.

"Don't worry," said Laura. "That's what I want to show you. What we found out was that you get a better sense for these things when you're moving. I think it has something to do with the air flowing over your wings."

"So what do we do?" the colt asked.

Laura turned away from them. "Follow me. We're going to fly in a wide circle around the room. Just take it slow, and try to go single-file." She turned her head back towards them. "Ready?"

A sea of nodding heads was her response.

"Then let's go!"

The pegasi easily fell into a line behind her without much jockeying for position, as if they already had an instinct for coordination with their fellow fliers. At once a technician called up to them, "Miss Tanner! No making indoor rain clouds, please!"

"We're not, I promise!" Laura called back. "There's not enough moisture here for one anyway."

"Laura, be careful," a familiar voice called up from below.

Laura face-hoofed. "Yes, Mom."

Several pegasi behind her giggled.

Laura did as well. "While we're not making a cloud, this is how you would move to create one. You concentrate the moisture in the center of your circle."

"I can feel it!" cried the little colt. 

"So can I!" cried another. "I couldn't before, but now I can!"

"I didn't realize it was this simple!" marveled another.

"Is it moving? I think it's moving!"

"I can feel it moving, too, like we're drawing it in!"

Laura had already sensed it herself, as if she had a connection not to just the flow of air but the movement of her fellow pegasi. They weren't individual ponies each doing their own part and just happened to be very well coordinated. Something was passing through all of them, as if their magic had somehow been linked together. Now she understood how she, Emma, and Joan had pulled off their feat; some sort of unspoken communication had connected them.

Yet she realized something else as well. She had them move slowly specifically so they would avoid actually trying to create a cloud, but having so many pegasi working together was the same as a few pegasi working more quickly.

"Everypony, stop!" Laura called out, and she spun around in place.

The other pegasi complied, but not without a few disappointed noises.

Laura smiled so hard, her muzzle ached. "No, it's okay. I stopped us only because we were doing this almost too well, and I promised we wouldn't make it rain," she said in an elated voice. She thrust a hoof towards the center of their flight circle. "Look, can you see it? It's kinda of wispy but--"

"I can see it!" the little colt cried.

"So can I!" another cried.

Just faintly visible in the overhead lights of the auditorium were slowly undulating strings of wispy fog. Below, a humming noise arose as the humidifiers activated one after the other as they suddenly detected a very dry environment. Several technicians gave them disapproving looks, but no one said a word of protest. "Yes, you did," said Laura, so pleased that her voice quavered from the force of her emotions. "We did it together."

As the other pegasi looked at their work with reactions ranging from astonishment to awe, many of Laura's doubts melted away. Maybe Sunny had lied to her or done something to her against her will, but what did it matter? Laura had never felt this enthusiastic about anything in her life. This wasn't about Jenny or past sins anymore. Perhaps she had entered into this lark with the thought of becoming some sort of great storm-tamer, but she finally understood that was not where her future lay. Her true talent was far more fundamental than that.

Something felt within her grasp, something that would forever silence any questions of what her life path would be. It felt so close, it had a tangible force, and once it did arrive, she would know for sure.

There would be a sign ...

Like a sort of mark ...

Like ... a cutie mark.

The term had simply popped into her head. It quickly turned from alien, to familiar, to desired. It would make her feel complete. Then the question of how she got here would never matter again.

The little colt suddenly buzzed up to her. "Are we gonna get a chance to make real clouds and really make it rain?"

Laura smiled. "We will. I promise."
> Chapter 46 - Stark Realizations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Knowing how late it was in Equestria relative to local Earth time, Twilight wanted to keep the audience limited to those who would be of immediate assistance in assessing her plan. Instead, Pinkie Pie was still awake and insisted on rousing the others. Only Rainbow Dash was absent, as she was still in the Griffon Kingdom trying to track down Derpy's biological parents.

"No offense, sugarcube, but ya look like ya were bucked ta Tartarus and back," said Applejack.

"I feel that way," said Twilight. "And I am terribly sorry everypony for the lateness of the hour, but this is very important, and time is something I don't have a lot of." She levitated Sunset's scroll from her saddlebags and presented it to Sunburst.

Sunburst took the scroll in his magic, adjusting his glasses. "What is this?"

"An incomplete spell for a permanent magical conduit between Equestria and Earth in the form of a magic mirror."

Sunburst's mouth dropped open as he read the spell. "Thaumic entanglement? That's actually possible??"

"Please assume that it is, as that represents our only hope to stop this."

Cadance stepped forward. "Auntie mentioned you needed the Crystal Empire for your plans."

"Yes, but I need Sunburst to tell me if my plan is even feasible," said Twilight.

Sunburst blinked in surprise and looked up. "Twilight, this spell is beyond my knowledge."

"I've got that spell covered," said Twilight. "Or at least I hope I do. What I need is your knowledge of the crystal ponies. The first part of the plan is relatively easy. I want the Equestria end of the conduit built near the Crystal Heart. Then I want the crystal ponies to pour every last bit of hope into the Heart. I'll then start casting the transformation counterspell into it as well."

"I think I see where this is going," said Cadance. "You then want me to redirect the Heart's power through the conduit and to Earth."

"Yes." Twilight turned to Sunburst. "Will it work?"

"W-well, as far as shaping the energy and projecting it, yes," said Sunburst. "I found an account in the archives recently of the Heart being used to create directed beams of energy to ward off a dragon attack some centuries before Sombra's conquest. The spell scroll is still intact."

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Sunburst lowered Sunset's spell scroll. "But all that will do is give you a single, directed beam. If I'm understanding the situation as Princess Celestia explained it, you need a wide distribution."

"Can I help with that?" said Shining Armor. "Can you link it somehow into a shield spell so I can spread it over a wide area?"

Twilight shook her head. "No, that would cover only the area in the immediate vicinity of the portal. This is an entire world we're talking about. Even the nation that's hardest hit is several times bigger than Equestria."

"Tarnation!" Applejack exclaimed. "An' I thought Manehattan was pretty far. That don't hold a candle ta this!"

"The sheer scale is the problem I've been facing from day one," said Twilight. "But I have an idea, and that's what I need Sunburst for."

"I'll do anything I can, of course," said Sunburst.

Twilight stepped up to him. "I know crystal ponies can take magic generated from positive emotions and focus it in one place. Can the opposite be done? Can magic be projected into crystal ponies and have it spread out from there?"

Sunburst's eyes widened  "I-I don't know. I've never heard of such a thing being done before." He pushed his glasses up his muzzle with a hoof. "Moreover, how would you so perfectly split the beam to precisely target each crystal pony?"

"Wait a moment," said Rarity. "Perhaps I am not as knowledgeable in magic as you are, Twilight, but am I to assume that some of the natives are becoming crystal ponies?"

"Yes," said Twilight. "Not very many, but they're more or less evenly distributed."

"But were crystal ponies around when Sunset conceived of her spell?"

"No, they were not," said Luna. "A mistake on Sunset's part, perhaps?"

"That's what I had initially thought," said Twilight.

"I am not as versed as you concerning Sunset's transformation spell," said Sunburst. "But I can tell you it is virtually impossible to have crystal ponies by accident. Yes, they share a root genetic and even magical stock with earth ponies, but their abilities could not come about by chance. Her spell would have to be crafted specifically to create them as assuredly as it would for the other pony tribes."

"That's what I'm coming to believe as well, which is why I am sure this will work."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow," said Sunburst.

"But I believe I do," said Celestia. "Twilight, you suspect Triss is behind the appearance of crystal ponies, don't you?"

"Triss?" asked Fluttershy. "Who's that?"

"An entity in the other universe similar to an alicorn," Twilight explained. "I don't have time to go into much more explanation than that right now, but she was instrumental in helping Star Singer see why Sunset's plans are catastrophic to this species in the future. She appears to have an interest in seeing this resolved, so I strongly suspect she can assist at her end in seeing that these plans will work."

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "I don't need no learnin' in high magic ta know when I hear suspicion in yer voice."

Twilight frowned. "Because I am suspicious. Something doesn't add up."

"I don't get it," said Pinkie. "Triss sounds like a good friend if she's already helped and wants to help more."

"I understand," said Celestia. "This goes back to our discussion about alicorn abilities."

"Exactly," said Twilight. "If she could break her normal limits with such precision and modify Sunset's transformation spell, then why didn't she just stop Sunset from the start? Why let her get this far and only then seek to intervene again?"

"She may have taken a great deal of time, focus, and energy to use her power in such a controlled manner," said Celestia. "Luna and I could have likely done the same thing, but we felt the risk was not worth it."

"You and Luna have a universe of limited size in which to experiment, but the other universe is unimaginably vast. There were likely locations where she could safely experiment. And she's been around and completely alone for billions of years."

Fluttershy gasped. "B-billions??"

"And she's been all alone all this time?" Pinkie cried. "That's horrible! Who helped her celebrate her birthdays? She's got billions of them to catch up on now! Is there even that much cake in the universe? The metaverse?"

"My point is this," said Twilight. "If she really is capable of such power, and she could have stopped Sunset herself, then she may have a hidden agenda. I don't like going forward with this plan until I know what it is. Either that, or we figure out a way to do the last part of this operation without her."

"I'll start working on this at once!" Sunburst declared. "Perhaps there is a way to make the magic stream have an affinity for crystal ponies and seek them out. How much time do I have?"

"Two days," said Twilight.

A collective gasp went up among Twilight's friends. "Sweet bouncin' apples, that ain't a lotta time!" exclaimed Applejack.

"Tell me about it."

"I have get back to the Crystal Empire at once!" Sunburst said.

"We all do," said Shining Armor. "We need to start preparing as soon as possible."

"We have to explain to our subjects what we need of them," said Cadance.

"Just wait an apple-buckin' minute." Applejack stepped up to Twilight. "Twi, yer expectin' ta finish Sunset's spell, build a magic mirror portal thingie, keep a buncha nervous natives from losin' their cool over this here disaster, an' deal with Sunset Shimmer. Ya already look like yer gonna drop."

"Don't you think I know that?!" Twilight exploded. "I know I'm at my limit, but I have to keep pushing. I can't afford to let up!"

"When ya had to go through the portal without us, we understood that," said Applejack. "Ya didn't have much choice. Now ya do. We wanna help. There's got ta be something we can do."

Twilight wanted to protest that what she needed was a copy of herself, somepony with all the same knowledge and abilities. Celestia and Luna had the ability but not the knowledge. Starlight had the knowledge but not the ability. Yet she remembered the debates she had over the mental state of the transformed. The natives were ready to declare them mentally incompetent if they didn't start showing more signs of thinking on their own.

Twilight firmly believed they were not as "brainwashed" as the natives would think, that they were fully capable of breaking out the mold that Sunset had set for them. Whether they remained ponies or not, she believed they could and should choose their own destinies.

She glanced at her friends: an earth pony who didn't tend food crops; a unicorn who didn't practice advanced magic; a pegasus who didn't shape the weather; another earth pony who had a sister whose future no longer lay on the apple farm.

She looked back at Applejack. "Yes, you can help, all of you."





The next morning, Kevin had just finished his morning shower when the lights abruptly went out. A few seconds later, the emergency lights came on, and he heard a distant rushing noise. He hastily finished his morning ablutions and grabbed a cup of coffee before heading for the morning conference.

Kevin saw Sandra up ahead and jogged to catch up. "What happened?"

"You know as much as I do at this point," said Sandra. "Power went out, the diesel generators cut in when it didn't come back. There's no reports of storms, fallen trees, or damaged transformers."

"Has anyone seen Twilight yet?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she slept in a bit this morning considering how exhausted she was last night."

They entered the conference room and found Anthony conferring with several agents as well as holding his cell phone to his ear. When he saw Kevin and Sandra and their inquisitive gazes, he said, "More fallout from ETS. Cascade power failure."

"How bad is it?" asked Kevin.

"Most of Colorado, parts of Wyoming, Nevada, and Idaho. A fault in a major power line caused a sudden back-flow of energy because there were insufficient staff at a key relay station."

Kevin sighed and rubbed his eyes as he sat down. "Great."

"Mr. Heller, I saw army soldiers unloading fuel at the generators a few days ago," said Sandra.

"Yes, you should have enough for a week," said Anthony. "The rest of the emergency zone is similarly supplied."

"I'm more worried about those outside the zone," said Kevin. "Right now, there's far more ETS there than here. The zone is almost a moot point."

"Other than it gives us a continued base of operations."

"Then I would say this is another argument in favor of releasing the transformed, as we're already going to be taxed to keep up with dwindling supplies."

"That decision is now in the hands of those much further up the chain," said Anthony. "And I do mean hands and not hooves. This decision will not be made on the basis of the wishes of the transformed."

A pop sounded outside, and the door suddenly glowed and burst open as Twilight applied her magic. Behind her, footsteps thundered towards her as her Secret Service contingent struggled to keep up. Twilight narrowed her eyes and slammed the door in her wake.

An agent opened the door and gave Twilight an exasperated look. "Miss Sparkle, please do not teleport from us again. We're assigned to you for a reason."

Twilight uttered a windy sigh. "Fine. I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge right now."

"Did you sleep okay, Twilight?" Kevin asked.

"Mostly. Thank you for asking." She approached a chair. "Mr. Heller, I overheard the last part of your comment in the hall. Not giving the transformed a voice in the decision is precisely the wrong thing to do."

"Twilight, perhaps you're not aware of the change in perception of the transformed," said Anthony.

Twilight hopped into the chair. "I'm perfectly aware of your perception of them, and I am taking it seriously. The only way to counter that perception and -- I will add -- make the prospects of changing them back easier is to help prove that they are capable of thinking for themselves."

"While I don't share Mr. Heller's black and white view of this," Sandra said cautiously. "I do agree there are definite mental changes that came with at least the transformation itself. We're still sorting out how the shared dream affected them."

"Then I ask that you see this as a way to counter that," said Twilight. "We can't counter the fact that being a pony feels natural. What we can counter is the idea that they have only one path to follow."

Kevin leaned forward. "If you have a plan, Twilight, I want to hear it."

"Why do we even need to entertain this idea?" Anthony said. "If we can simply change everyone back to human, this becomes a moot point. If I'm understanding how this morphic resonance works, once they change back, it will again be natural to be a human."

Twilight thumped a fore-hoof on the table. "Because I have no damn clue how long it will take before I can even think of changing them back! Even if I manage to cast the counterspell in two days and halt further spread of new ETS cases, I then have to deal with reversing those who are actively transforming. Only then can I start to think about changing the completely transformed back. Casting the counterspell is almost easy compared to that!"

"And if we just keep them from forming their pony society in the first place in the interim?"

"You're failing to understand a very basic point, Mr. Heller: you won't be able to keep them confined much longer. Not unless you want to risk harming them, and I'm sure you don't want that. Blame Sunset's vision if you want, but it's still the basic fact of the matter."

The more Twilight spoke, the more Kevin felt like she was a kindred spirit. She wasn't a physician, but she cared just as vociferously for many who were once his own patients. Had that been what had biased his perspective? He tried very hard to see it from Anthony's point of view. Kevin had to remind himself that the untransformed were being affected by this as much if not more than the transformed. Certainly the millions who woke up without electricity across multiple states would understand that.

"Is there any magical means to keep them in the shelters?" Anthony asked.

"The only way I can think of to do such a thing without forcefully confining them is to have Princess Luna give them a different vision, but I think this may make the matter worse. Where your kind is not used to the application of dream magic, we'd be substituting one spiritual figure for another."

"I would feel better about letting them go if you had time to talk to them as you suggested."

Twilight smiled. "Then I think you might like my idea: have my friends talk to them instead."

"Your friends?"

"In the magic lecture I gave, I mentioned how the pony tribes were specialized in what they could do," Twilight explained. "Yet I also said that it doesn't necessarily dictate what they should do. Yes, many earth ponies farm and many pegasi manage the weather. But some don't, and my friends are the embodiment of this. They can talk to your transformed humans and show them that while they may feel a need to come together for a greater good, it's not all they have to be."

"I'd like to voice support for this," said Kevin. "Mr. Heller, realize that Sunset's vision was based on the premise that the entire world population would transform. Thus they would have no choice but to live exactly as Sunset dictated. Yet if this is not the case, perhaps at least some of them could be made to realize they don't have to do it."

Anthony was quiet for a long moment. He finally leaned forward and laced his fingers together under his chin. "I think I need a clearer idea of just how difficult transforming people back would be, and that's regardless of cutie marks."

"Remember that the morphic resonance tells the body -- and indirectly, the mind -- what the creature is supposed to be," Twilight explained. "The transformation spell Sunset crafted examines both the genome and the psyche, and from that determines the best fit along with a set of other criteria to ensure a balance of the tribes. It then selects the proper resonance for that fit and begins the change." She looked around. "Are you all with me so far?"

A nodding of heads followed. Kevin stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"What this means is, in order to change a person back, a counter-transformation spell if you will must craft a new human resonance. I don't know how to do that yet. I could create a generic one, but then everyone winds up looking the same."

Kevin's eyebrows rose.

"This is not like dealing with a computer," said Twilight. "There is no convenient 'backup resonance' that I can just reload. How do I restore the original human form? How much of the original psyche is left? The mind likely does have memories of their human form, but with that being irrelevant information now, how accurate will it be? And if that fails, what then? Do we use recent photos as a cue? Descriptions from relatives? What about those who had serious questions and struggles with racial, cultural, sexual, or gender identity? How will that affect the reverse-transformation? What if we're off enough from their old form that now they have new priorities and drives? Do we consider them still 'brainwashed' but in a different way? How 'good' is 'good enough?'"

A long silence followed before Sandra asked, "Twilight, are you familiar with the concept of 'reverse engineering?'"

"Yes, I am."

"At the risk of sounding like I'm treating the human body as a machine, could that be done here? Work back from the selected pony form to the original human form?"

"It could work as a start," said Twilight. "But where the original transformation made tweaks here and there to achieve balance in the tribes as a whole, it would require more information. I am not saying it's impossible. I'm just trying to make you understand the huge undertaking this is. I could get lucky and it will take me days. More likely weeks. Or it could be so difficult, it would take months. Realize that it took years for Sunset to perfect her transformation spell in the first place."

Kevin turned to Anthony. "Yesterday you said it would be easier if we just didn't have to worry about having a pony society in our midst. I don't think you have that option. Perhaps in the long term, if Twilight is successful at changing people back, all will be well and good, but we have a short term problem that I feel is being swept under the rug."

Anthony leaned back in his seat and wiped his face with his hand. "I have to be honest with you. I feel the President backed himself into a corner with his loud claims that the transformed are still considered American citizens."

"But it's a correct statement."

"Yes, but there is such a thing as the right time and place," said Anthony in a sour voice. "I'm also concerned about taking any action that could possibly lead to cutie marks."

"Yes, it's a risk," said Twilight. "No matter what you choose to do, you have risks. I personally told Sarah Tanner to seek her own destiny. I could very well have consigned her to be a pony forever if she gains a cutie mark. Your species is fond of term 'the bottom line.' Well, here it is, Mr. Heller: you're very likely going to have a permanent pony population on this world, the only question now is how big will it be. You can either have one slavishly following Sunset's vision, or one that recognizes the need to remain integrated in your society. Which will it be?"

Kevin saw the way Twilight's eyes shimmered despite the firmness of her voice and stance. He could sympathize with her situation. He often lamented over that moment when he received the bad news about his wife's condition, or the feelings he had when having to be the bearer of that sort of news. Nothing could ever make it go over easier.

"All right," Anthony said with a sigh. "I'll take this further up the chain. In the meanwhile, I need to change the subject. Within the hour, we will be starting Operation Frozen Sunset."

"The thaumic pulse, you mean?" Twilight asked.

"Yes. We need to know what to expect when the counterspell is cast."

"Well, I can try to describe that, but why do you need to know now?"

"Because the President has decided to use the EAS system activation to deliver an actual Emergency Action Notification message. He wants to inform people that an effort will be made to stop further spread of ETS."

"The most noticeable effect will be light," said Twilight. "Arcing beams of light as the spell seeks out crystal ponies, and expanding shells of light from where the spell will spread out from them. And if the President is going to address the nation, he should tell people not to be afraid of the transformed. In fact, the closer they are to fully or partially transformed people, the better. More people will be covered by the counterspell that way."

"That last part will be a tall order, but I'll relay your recommendation," said Anthony as he stood. "I need to attend to the final preparations for the operation."

Kevin watched him go, and he heard a long sigh from Twilight of mixed relief and frustration. He turned towards her to find her gaze downcast, her ears drooping slightly. "You're doing your best, Twilight. It's all anyone can expect."

Twilight raised her glistening gaze to Kevin. "I just want what's best for everyone. I hate the position Sunset has put me in. I can't offer the solutions that your species wants. I can't wave my hoof and make the problem go away." She looked over to Sandra. "And there's yet another problem that Sandra made me aware of earlier this morning."

Kevin glanced from Twilight to Sandra. "Oh?"

Sandra turned to him. "If we allow the transformed to come together as a group outside the shelters, they'll likely have the means for more privacy. Privacy could lead to sex, sex could lead to pregnancy."

Kevin stared at Sandra as if she had grown a third eye, but it was more directed at himself for not seeing something as plain as that. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh. "Dammit."

"That will mean unborn foals who have no direct connection to being human," said Twilight. "What can of worms will that open? The best path to a reverse-transformation spell is to seek what remains of the human psyche and build on that. What if I can't come up with that for the unborn? What then?"

Kevin did not even want to think about that.





Celestia waited until the doors at the end of the throne room had closed behind the noblepony before she let out a long sigh and let her head and ears droop. She wished she could  spend the recess taking a nap, but with as tired as she was, she'd likely sleep right through the rest of Day Court.

The unexpected arrival of Cadance and Shining Armor from the week before had already started rumors flying in Canterlot, and the excitement from the night before had been noticed by a now watchful nobility. Several of their ilk had already begun demanding answers as to what was going on.

Fortunately, none of them had a clue as to the reality of the situation. Most of their worries lay with some new threat to Equestria itself. A rumor began that Discord was out of control again, not at all helped by the draconequus deciding to have some fun with the situation by playing practical jokes on the nobles while appearing in a black cloak and thin mustache and saying simply "soon" before uttering diabolical laughter and vanishing.

Had the situation been any different, Celestia would have found Discord's antics amusing.

She did not intend to keep the nobility in the dark forever; contact with another world demanded the nobility be informed. Yet where it was tied into the memory suppression spell -- which was still in force until the immediate crisis was resolved -- she needed time to plan how to explain everything.

She looked up at the sound of hoofsteps and saw her assistant Tight Schedule approaching, the ever-present ledger held in her magic. "Princess, you said you wanted me to alert you when certain ponies requested an audience with you."

Celestia rose from her cushion and turned more fully towards Tight. "Yes, I did. What name has come up?"

Tight adjusted her glasses as she looked at the ledger. "Sunset Glow."

Celestia sighed. "If the day could not get any worse."

The last time she had contact with Sunset's mother was when she had to break the news that Sunset Shimmer was alive. Yet it had not been good enough just to tell her that. Celestia had to go into at least some detail of what Sunset was doing. It had not gone over well, and it had ended with Glow screaming at Celestia to get out of her house.

"It just might," said Tight. "She's not alone."

"If her husband or son is with her, they are welcome to see me as well."

"No." Tight lowered the ledger. "Prince Blueblood."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Both Sunset Glow and Prince Blueblood have petitioned to see you jointly."

Celestia took a deep breath. Canterlot law allowed a subject to employ a noblepony as an advocate, lawyer, or general counsel, but the nobility took up such causes only if there was something in it for them. "Did they say what this was about?"

Tight frowned. "Yes, but where Blueblood was doing all the talking, he took fifteen minutes to get his point across, by which point my brain had shut down. I can sum it up with a name: Sunset Shimmer."

Celestia could have guessed. "Very well." She returned to her cushion and sat. "Send them in."

Tight raised an eyebrow. "Now? You don't want to wait until the end of recess?"

"The sooner we get this done, the better. Please do as I say."

Tight rolled her eyes. "Fine. Hope you have more brain cells in play after listening to him than I did."

Tight cantered off, and in the ensuing silence, Celestia could hear her own heart pounding. Over a thousand years ago, she and her sister had faced off against Sombra, and she had not felt this anxious.

When the doors to the throne room glowed, Celestia held her head up high and steeled herself. The doors swung open, and two ponies entered.

Celestia tried not to let her gaze linger on Sunset Glow, for it only made the pain worse. All she could do was remember a better time, when Glow was always smiling, knowing full well that her daughter was happy and successful. That had been irrevocably destroyed several times over.

Glow's eyes were bloodshot, but whether from crying or lack of sleep, Celestia had no idea. Most likely a combination of both. Blueblood held himself in his typical regal stance, his jewelry polished to a shine that would blind most ponies had a shaft of sunlight hit him.

Glow's eyes caught those of Celestia and narrowed slightly even as they shimmered. Celestia saw anger that had no outlet, and grief that had no end.

Blueblood came to a stop. Having been distracted by her eye contact with Celestia, Glow stopped only when Blueblood pointedly cleared his throat.

"Sunset Glow," said Celestia in a cordial voice. "Prince Blueblood. I am at your disposal."

"Princess Celestia," said Blueblood in a voice both haughty and crisp. "We will get right to the point."

Celestia quelled the urge to respond, "That would be a first for you."

"We are being told that both you, Princess Celestia -- Diarch of the Equestrian Crown -- and Princess Twilight Sparkle -- Bearer of the Element of Magic and Princess of Friendship -- have accused a citizen of Equestria of a heinous crime which amounts to -- despite all attempts to dance around it -- genocide. We are also to understand that said suspect -- Sunset Shimmer --"

Glow shivered and swallowed hard, her eyes glistening.

"-- is currently in a foreign land and is thus unable to defend herself against such charges that may be no more than scurrilous and shameful lies. We demand that she be returned to Equestria so she may properly defend herself against her alleged crimes or, more likely, expose them for the terrible libel that the are."

Any hope that Blueblood might indeed be Discord in disguise like last time were dashed in those few seconds. Discord would never have gotten halfway through such pomp without bursting out laughing.

Yet this was no laughing matter, and Celestia was at the limit of her tolerance.

"Prince Blueblood," said Celestia in a voice of forced calm. "Do you even have the slightest idea what is really going on?"

"Perhaps I would know more, Your Highness, were I able to remember it."

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have been informed that many of the nobility -- nay, the entirety of Equestria and beyond -- are under the influence of a spell that is interfering with their memories--"

"Of events twenty years ago," said Celestia. "I seem to recall you were still a foal back then."

"That is beside the point!" Blueblood declared. "The point is, subterfuge is in play here, and that quite muddies the waters. Surely you cannot let a crime continue to be held against a pony in her absence, one who I am told was an outstanding member of the community? Surely she deserves the right to face her accusers in accordance with Equestrian law, law which you yourself have written."

Celestia risked a glance at Glow. Glow kept the same hard face she had when she entered, as if she were intent on wearing it like a mask. She must have vented herself to Blueblood already, which would be the only reason she was letting him be her mouthpiece.

"At the moment, Sunset Shimmer is beyond my ability to recall," said Celestia.

"And why is that, Princess, if I may ask?"

Celestia had every right to refuse to answer. Yet now a crack had appeared in Glow's mask. This should be a conversation between Celestia and Glow, not Blueblood. "At the moment, Sunset is being held by the authorities of the foreign land."

Glow's eyes widened. "Y-you never told me that!"

Blueblood thrust a fore-hoof out. "Quiet, please. We discussed this possibility."

Glow glanced at Blueblood and subsided.

Celestia clenched her teeth briefly. They were talking about the life of a pony, and all this protocol made it sound so trivial. "This is a very recent development. I had heard this only last night. There has not been time to disseminate the information."

Prince Blueblood nodded. "Understood, Princess. Of course, you will insist she be extradited to Equestria at once."

Celestia had been informed by her sister of Twilight's reluctance to make such a decision. Celestia and Luna had it within their rights as the Diarchy to take up this responsibility, but Twilight understood the situation far more than they. Yet she could not state that Glow's own granddaughter was going to decide her daughter's fate.

"The situation is complicated, Prince Blueblood," said Celestia. "There are the wishes of the foreign government to consider."

"Yet can we be sure she would get a fair hearing, Your Highness?" said Blueblood. "What do we really know of these foreigners? Can we trust them to get at the truth?"

"Prince Blueblood," said Celestia in a curt voice. "If a pony willfully and knowingly committed a crime in the Griffon Kingdoms, or in Zebrica, or any other nation in the world, I would fully expect and support that pony being tried for that crime under the laws which were broken."

"But the nations of this world are a known quantity! Who knows what sort of barbarous practices may be in play in this foreign land?"

Celestia almost visibly bristled. "You can rest assured that Princess Twilight is acting as our ambassador to this land, and she is on top of the situation."

Glow's eyes glistened, and she said in a choked voice, "Sh-she just can't turn over her own blood to--!"

Blueblood thrust out a hoof again. "Let me do the talking."

Glow snapped her mouth shut and trembled.

Celestia narrowed her eyes at Blueblood. Did he not clearly see that this was not what Glow needed? Did he even truly care about her predicament?

"Princess Celestia," said Blueblood in a low, serious voice. "While I greatly respect and admire Princess Twilight, I feel I must ask: is she taking into account the distinct lack of magic in this other land?"

"And of what relevance is this?"

"It is extremely relevant, Your Highness. This world has magic. All other nations understand how it works. Our society and our laws are built around them. I am given to understand that the other world does not have magic. Can they be a fair judge in that case? Would it not be better to hear her case here in Equestria?"

Celestia glanced at Glow. Her mask was coming undone. Either she was reconsidering, or Blueblood was going off on a tangent. "Prince Blueblood, taking something that does not belong to them is called stealing, and that would be a crime regardless of whether magic is in play or not. This is no different."

"And yet, a pony who steals because they feel they have no choice can be granted leniency," said Blueblood.

"You cannot equate such a thing with what Sunset has done!"

"As you yourself have just done, Princess?"

Celestia bolted from her cushion, and Glow whimpered and backed away. Celestia marched up to Blueblood. "Enough. This is a smokescreen. What is it you really want?"

Blueblood hesitated. He glanced at Glow, and for the first time since he had arrived displayed at least a faint modicum of sympathy. "Sunset Shimmer is at the forefront of my mind. Not only is she being accused of a heinous crime under unknown circumstances, but she is at the center of a great mystery."

"I have every intention of revealing all, Prince Blueblood, but only when I feel the time is right. We are embroiled in an attempt to fix the damage that has been done, and we do not have time for distractions."

"Perhaps I can be persuaded to go along with this continued ruse if you agree to bring Sunset Shimmer to Equestria at least long enough to answer some questions about her actions and motivations and take certain steps to ensure timely resolution of the matter. We need to hear from her own lips what--"

Celestia's patience was holding by a thread. "I beg your pardon? 'Go along with the continued ruse?' 'Take certain steps?'"

"By ruse I mean I will not share what I know with my fellow nobles. Your secrets will remain safe. As for those additional steps, well ..." Blueblood smiled. "I would not at all be averse to being named head of the committee investigating Sunset's alleged crimes, since I am sure the nobility will want a more impartial--"

The thread snapped.

"WE WILL NOT TAKE A COURSE OF ACTION BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN BULLIED INTO IT!" Celestia bellowed, the floor shaking with the full might of the Royal Canterlot Voice.

Prince Blueblood's pupils shrank to near pinpricks as he backed up a step. "I-I-I didn't mean it that way, Your Highness, I j-just--"

"THAT IS PRECISELY WHAT THOU MEANT. THOU SHALT TAKE THY PETTY THREATS AND REMOVE THYSELF FROM OUR PRESENCE AT ONCE!"

Blueblood whimpered and took off at full gallop. Celestia's horn glowed, and the door slammed behind him in his wake.

Celestia took a deep breath and let it go. She looked down and saw Glow with her head lowered to the floor, her forelegs covering it, quivering from hoof to tail. In a soft, calm voice, Celestia said, "Sunset Glow, please, look up."

Slowly, Glow lowered her fore-hooves. She swallowed hard and raised her head but remained seated on her haunches. She lifted a tear-stained face to Celestia.

"How much of what Prince Blueblood said were really your words?"

Glow wiped her eyes with the back of a hoof and glanced towards the door. "M-most of it," she said in a low voice. "Not the stuff about getting you to reveal everything else you know or him being head of some committee. That was his idea."

"But you went along with it."

Glow let out a ragged breath. "He seemed to care. He acted like he agreed with me."

"He likely did," said Celestia. "He can be obnoxious on occasion, but he's not as bad as some ponies paint him. I was more upset that he had taken advantage of the situation to further his own agenda."

Glow sniffled and said nothing, her gaze averted.

Celestia stepped up to her. "You don't need him to talk to me."

"I didn't know whether I could face you," Glow said in a halting voice. "I didn't know whether I could get myself to say all that without just breaking down into either tears or more screaming, and then I'd sound like a mad pony."

Celestia sat on her haunches before Glow, paused, then settled down on her belly like she did so many times with Twilight when she was upset over something during those first few weeks as her student. "I know you feel a lot of this is my fault--"

Glow hesitated, her face betraying surprise at Celestia's gesture. She finally shook her head. "I don't know what to think anymore. It ... i-it was actually easier when we thought Sunny was dead. We could convince ourselves of what the truth was, and nopony would be able to tell us anything to the contrary." She swallowed hard. "Maybe we could still do that if anypony other than Twilight was dealing with this."

"Twilight has an enormous responsibility on her hooves," said Celestia. "And I fear it is tearing her apart as much as it is you."

Glow's lower lip quivered. "She can't turn Sunset over to them. She just can't!"

"Sunset Glow--"

"Everything Blueblood said was true!" Glow cried. "What if she won't be treated fairly over there? What if they don't understand what she was trying to do? What if they just plain hate her and don't care about the facts?!"

Celestia uttered a heartfelt sigh. "I feel I must make something very clear to you. If your daughter were brought back to Equestria, she would still face justice."

Glow's eyes shimmered as she stared at Celestia, and she trembled again.

"What she has done is wrong," said Celestia. "I would not let this go unpunished any more than the natives of that world would."

"But here we'll have a chance to talk to her! We can ask her what she was thinking when she did this! We can ... w-we ..."

"We?"

"I want to know why!" Glow wailed, tears flowing down her face. "Why did she do this?! She had everything! She was wanting for nothing! She had all the love and support a mare could have ever wanted, and she ruined everything for herself and her family!"

Glow collapsed onto her belly, giving vent to the real feelings behind her grief. Celestia's heart lurched, her own eyes threatening to tear. She tried to tell herself that this was a good thing, that Sunset Glow had finally come to accept that Sunset Shimmer was solely responsible for her own actions, but it did nothing to assuage the grief now.

Celestia lay down next to the grieving Glow and wrapped a wing around her. Instead of pulling away as Celestia feared she might, Glow instead pressed against Celestia's side, tears soaking into Celestia's fur.

"I-I just want to know why," Glow whimpered. "I want to understand. I want her to understand. I want her to understand what she did wrong. What's the point of justice if she doesn't understand what she's being punished for?"

"Twilight wishes the same thing," said Celestia in a slightly quavering voice. "It disturbs her as well that Sunset does not understand."

Glow squeezed her eyes shut. "There has to be a way, Princess. Even if she can't be brought back to Equestria one more time, there has to be a way."

Celestia thought back to the conversation she had with Twilight concerning the alicorn-like creature named Triss, and the way the creature contacted Star Singer to explain her vision. This in turn reminded her of when Twilight entered the ethereal realm just prior to her Ascension.

"Sunset Glow," said Celestia. "I cannot promise you anything, but ... I may have an idea."
> Chapter 47 - Misdirections
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What have you learned, Bob?"

Despite having expected the dream to come to him that night, and even knowing the gist of it from the excited proclamations of his fellow ponies, Bob still meets the scene with a sense of surprise and bemusement. For one, he appears and feels like a full pony, and he imagines it will be so in reality upon awakening. He feels a sense of relief that the transition period is over, and he can get on with his life.

But exactly what is his life supposed to be? Is he supposed to be part of this now? Hasn't something fundamentally changed?

Bob turns to the large white mare. "Do you really need me for this anymore?"

The mare gives him a gentle smile. "You have seen for yourself. All ponies do their part. All ponies help one another. Kindness and generosity at the forefront of all things."

"That's not what I mean."

The mare tilts her head. "Then may I ask you to explain?"

"Maybe if this happens to the entire world, you would need everpony. But is that going to happen now?"

The mare considers before responding, "Do you not wish to be part of a world in which there is no strife or want?"

"Of course I want to be part of that," says Bob. "Who wouldn't?"

"Then that is indeed what you can have. You only need to help make it happen."

Bob pauses for a long moment as he looks back towards the pony village. They look no more strange to him than his family does. It would be easy to simply accept the mare's words and subsume himself into this idyllic vision.

"Have you not wanted to be more a part of your adoptive family?" the mare asks softly.

Bob hesitates before answering. "But that's happened now. I'm closer to them than I've ever been before. I imagine it will be more so now that I'm fully pony. The awkwardness will be gone."

The mare smiles. "This is an opportunity to acquire an even larger family. Surely you feel you deserve such."

But does he really need a larger family? Aren't the Tanners enough? Yes, he feels the same longing to widen his circle of friends as the others do. He once read in Sarah's writings that some ancient people considered a town to be an extended family. He is descended from that heritage; why would it need to be taught to him again?

As if sensing his thoughts, the mare says, "In a way, the world becomes one large family."

He realizes the mare has managed to derail him from his original argument. "You keep talking about the world. What is the world?"

The mare hesitates. "I am not sure I understand your question."

"Is the world all seven billion beings, or is it just our piece of it?"

The mare appears unprepared for the question. "Is there a difference?"

"Yes, if not every human becomes a pony."

"We are not speaking of humans at the moment," says the mare. "We speak of ponies. Why would we speak of anything else? It is what we are."

Bob cannot dispute her last statement. He is a pony as assuredly as his name is Bob. Yet there are still those who are not.

"We speak of a world of ponies," the mare says in a more confident voice. "There is no other world to consider."

"But are you sure?"

"I again fail to comprehend your question."

"The one behind all this was captured," Bob says. "Doesn't that mean this might stop spreading?"

The mare hesitates again for a longer moment. Bob suspects this vision is not equipped to deal with the concept of a world of both ponies and humans, which suggests a specific end result is assumed. Perhaps Bob is able to question it solely because he has this inside information about Sunset Shimmer.

"And if that's the case," Bob says when the mare remains silent. "Then not everypony would be needed. Some can do what they want."

The mare suddenly smiles, as if she has been steered onto safer ground. "Do you not feel a sense of loyalty to your fellow ponies? Would you not want to further their safety and well-being?"

Bob looks back to the village. "Of course I do," Bob says in a low voice. "I never said I wouldn't help."

"You certainly seemed eager to help when the barn caught fire."

Bob looks with longing at the other unicorns. He had been able only to levitate burning timbers out of the way, but his fellow unicorns could cast spells that quenched the fire itself. He could almost sense the runes behind them, and he thought for sure he could do that himself one day.

"Be honest with yourself, Bob," says the mare. "You are a unicorn, and you want to know what you can do."

Bob cannot dispute this. Being a unicorn feels natural and right, and he desperately wants to understand how magic works and how he can use it. He also cannot deny his desire to use his abilities to help his fellow ponies.

He understands more now what Laura feels. He wants to shrug off the revelation concerning Sunny and see this mare as a benevolent, guiding spirit. The assumption that this is the future of the entire world makes sense even from a practical perspective. For all he knew, there is no way to stop it, and it is simply a matter of time; to not prepare for that eventuality would be foolish at best and suicide at worst.

Bob turns more fully towards the mare. "I understand. I will help my fellow ponies in creating successful communities like this one."

The mare smiles more fully. "I am delighted you have come to understand."

"But I do want to ask," says Bob. "What will happen if this doesn't affect the entire world? What will become of our communities then?"

Bob feels this is also a practical question. Sure, they can prepare for the best, but what if that doesn't come to fruition? The mare hesitates again, but this time there is a subtle change in her posture. Rather than incomprehension, her face betrays wariness. "I believe ... I believe I have come to understand why you are continuing to make distinctions as to what the world encompasses."

"You do?"

"Rest assured, my dear Bob, this vision can and will come to pass so long as ponies honor the tenets of kindness, generosity, loyalty, honesty, and laughter. It is not up to a single pony, but all of us."

Bob considers. "Even if that single pony is the one behind all this?"

The mare smiles. "Remember, no pony needs to be alone. No pony is truly ever alone. Worry not for a single pony, Bob, for we are all in this together."

Bob is not sure his question was really answered, but before he can refine his point further, the vision fades to white.





Bob awoke to the sound of excited speech all around him. As he blinked away the last vestiges of slumber, he wondered how he had managed to sleep so late with all this noise until he remembered how the others had awoken a bit late after seeing their vision. Unlike an ordinary dream which would be slipping away from him the more wakeful he became, it stuck in his mind like something he had specifically memorized.

So much abuzz with conversation were the others that nopony heard the clop of his hooves as he stood and took a few tentative steps. Thankfully, his muscles moved in near perfect concert. He no longer felt so awkward. If anything, his dark-green-furred body felt as natural as did his sea-green mane and tail had the day before.

His ears swiveled as hoofsteps approached, and he had only just turned towards the sound when he was drawn into a tight hug. "Bob, thank God it's finally over for you."

Bob's muzzle pressed against orange fur, and he breathed deeply of Sarah's scent. It was both familiar and comforting, as if his senses had been this way all his life. He closed his eyes and returned the hug, the most demonstrative he had ever been with his feelings since arriving in the Tanner household.

Sarah gazed into Bob's eyes. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yes, I do," Bob said in a slightly bemused voice. "Do I look okay?"

Sarah smiled. "You look fine, other than you still have something hanging off your hindquarters."

Bob turned his head. His briefs were still wrapped around his rear legs above the fetlocks. He wriggled his hindquarters and dropped the briefs down his legs. A glow from Sarah's horn helped him extricate his rear hooves. Bob flicked his tail to get the hair to lay more naturally.

He glanced at the briefs. A faint thought swirled in his head that he ought to preserve it, like an artifact of a past time. He remembered how he had told Laura that he would try to remember the things that he used to do. He could indeed remember them, they just didn't seem quite as important now. Yet the act of remembering them itself did.

"You okay, Bob?" Sarah asked.

Bob turned his gaze back to her. "I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed."

"Did you have the vision?"

Bob hesitated. "Yes."

"What did it focus on for you?"

"My family," Bob said. "Meaning the one I have now. Why do you ask?"

"I was just concerned for you, that's all," Sarah said in a subdued voice. "After what we talked about yesterday. It made me start thinking more on what's really going on."

"I tried to talk to the mare in the vision about what happened to Sunny," said Bob.

Sarah's eyes widened slightly. "Are you sure that was a good idea?"

"Well, Sunny is in custody, right?"

"So I'm told, yes. But just seeing and sensing what a unicorn can do, I'm wondering exactly how they accomplished it."

Bob glanced around him. He saw other unicorns casually moving their possessions about with magic. A few appeared to be sorting through them, face deep in thought as they pondered more relics from their human past. He felt the urge even more now to try it out for himself. He could see the flow of the spell in his head. He could sense how his magic would wrap itself around other objects in a way hands never could.

"You were right about how spells work, Bob," said Sarah with a small smile. "I think I can sense how my levitation spell can be adjusted to do more fine manipulation."

Bob continued to stare at the other unicorns. It almost looked like they were packing. "What's going on? What is everypony so excited about?"

"They're finally going to let us out of here later today," said Sarah with some relief. "Laura is positively ecstatic. She's like a little foal on Christmas morning."

Bob did indeed see that as good news. It gave him even more incentive to start using his horn, as he wanted to be able to help the others from the very start. He had even told the mare in his vision that he would help regardless of the final outcome.

He glanced at the humans standing at the periphery of the room. Why had he had so much trouble explaining to the mare about the uncertainty of the future? He didn't look upon the humans as future ponies. He doubted anypony else did.

"You have something on your mind," said Sarah gently.

Bob looked back to her. "I guess I do. I can't stop thinking about my conversation with the mare in the vision. I don't think I really got my point across to her. It was like I couldn't get her to understand that Sunny was no longer running things."

"Maybe Sunny was not quite as in control as they thought."

"You said you were starting to think about what's going on," said Bob. "In what way?"

"Sunny disrupted my research," said Sarah. "She actively prevented me from finding a connection to her plans for us. The more I've thought about it, the more I'm coming to resent that."

"You hadn't told me that part."

"I haven't wanted to dwell upon it," said Sarah. "It's like Harry says, we should look forward, not back. What's the point of hating a pony for something that's already said and done? Laura told me that Sunny had said we all have new talents and abilities now, and we need to adjust our life goals to that. It's hard not to agree with that, but when I discovered I might be able to adjust my levitation spell to do just the sort of fine manipulation that's crucial to archaeology, I started reconsidering."

"It's like what I tried to tell the mare," said Bob. "What about things I want to do? I want to help everypony, yes, but I need something more."

Sarah smiled faintly. "I hope we'll all come around to that thinking."

"I almost wish I could talk to Sunny, if for no other reason than to better understand her perspective."

"You and Laura both. I doubt anypony can see her right now."

Bob paused. "So ... she's alone right now?"

"Where other ponies are concerned, I would think so," said Sarah.

Bob's eyes became distant as words from the vision came to him again.

No pony needs to be alone.

No pony is truly ever alone.

Worry not for a single pony.

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asked.

"Aunt Sarah, they interviewed you and a lot of other ponies about the vision yesterday, right?"

"Yes, they did."

"Maybe I should volunteer to be interviewed about mine," said Bob.

"You certainly can if you want to," said Sarah. "Any particular reason why?"

"I'm not sure. It just feels like it might be important."





Jenny approached the human technicians when her position in the line came up, and a tag with the number "3" written upon it and attached to a string was placed around her neck. She nodded her thanks and headed away.

James trotted up to her, smiling, a similar tag around his neck. "Hey, we're on the same one. Cool."

Jenny rolled her eyes but grinned nevertheless. "You do know we're going to the same place, right?"

"Yeah, I know, but what can I say, I like your company."

Jenny blushed faintly. She was still getting used to being the object of somepony's affections. When they were still humans, she had been too wrapped up in herself to really understand and appreciate his feelings for her.

James stepped a little closer to her and said in a low voice, "I hadn't had a chance to ask you yet. You have any more dreams last night about the Fae Queen?"

Her dreams were really no big secret. She suspected he was using the excuse to be closer to her to take in more of her scent. That seemed to be what defined closeness among ponies. She felt safe and protected anytime she was this close to her father, and he was the only thing she could smell. "No, I haven't, but I've been trying to remember more details of the one I did have."

"And have you?"

"Only that the Fae Queen did something to me."

"You said it was like she had started transforming you."

"No, it's more than that," said Jenny. "She did something else to me, but I'm having trouble figuring out what. She said something to me, and it made something happen in my head."

James' eyes widened. "That's a little creepy."

She almost said it was no more creepy than somepony beaming a vision into her head, but why would she think of it that way? What was so creepy about showing them a bright future?

"The only part I can remember clearly is seeing her watch the storm head off into the distance," said Jenny. "It's hard not to remember it because of the way she towered over me."

James tilted his head. "Towered over you?"

Jenny paused. "I hadn't mentioned that?"

"Not that I can remember."

"Well, she did. She was way tall, taller than I remember depicting her. I never had her more than maybe half a foot taller than the peasant girl."

"Wow, this is weird," said James. "It really is like you're remembering more and more of that dream."

"Are you sure I never mentioned about the Fae Queen being tall?"

"I'm just about positive."

Jenny frowned. "I don't like this. It's like I remember stuff but don't remember remembering stuff, if that makes any sense."

Before James could reply, a yellow and orange blur flying towards them from the distance resolved itself into a hovering Laura. "Jenny, there you are! Did you hear the news?!"

Jenny smirked and lifted her tag with her hoof. "You mean about being let go? Yeah, kinda hard not to."

"No, I don't mean that!" Laura said excitedly. "They're actually going to let us go to the place I suggested to the ponies at the other shelter! God, I'm both really excited and so nervous at the same time. I hope I picked the right spot. I'd never live it down if ..." She trailed off as she finally noticed the tags around Jenny's and James' necks. "What are those?"

"What, you don't know?" Jenny asked.

Laura shook her head in confusion.

"They're bringing in some transports to ferry us out of here," said Jenny. "All of us are supposed to get assigned to a specific transport, so they're giving out tags."

"Oh, okay, I guess that makes sense for the earth ponies and unicorns."

"I think everypony is required to get a tag."

Laura stared. "What, seriously?"

"I saw a few pegasi getting them as well," said James.

Laura face-hoofed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, pegasi don't need transports, we have wings! Thanks for the heads up, I'll have to go talk to them."

Jenny wondered if the reason the part about the storm in her dream was what she remembered most clearly was because her sister was a pegasus. Laura's ability to control the weather dovetailed so much with the dream that Jenny had the wild thought there was a connection somehow.

But that was ridiculous. One had nothing to do with the other except the general subject, and the fact that something supposedly happened to Jenny concerning a storm in the still nebulous past ...

... when she was a little girl ...

Jenny suddenly stared at Laura.

"Is something wrong?" Laura asked.

Jenny blinked rapidly. For just an instant, she saw her sister as she had been many years ago when she was eight, a human girl whom Jenny had looked up to. The moment was gone almost as quick as it had come, and the more familiar form of a hovering yellow-furred pegasus reasserted itself.

"No, I'm fine," said Jenny. She slowly smiled. "I'll be looking forward to what you can really do once you have the open skies."

Laura smiled. "So will I! I'll catch you before you head out, I promise."

Jenny nodded and watched her sister the pegasus fly away.

"You looked like you zoned out a bit for a moment," said James gently.

Jenny hesitated as she struggled to forge the link in her head, as if her mind were resisting the very thought itself. Everything wanted to tell her that she was being silly for entertaining it in the first place, that it was just her making it all about herself again.

She looked off into the distance where Laura used her wing to brush away the hand of a technician holding a tag and started talking to him in earnest.

We're as close now as we ever had been as foals.

"Jenny?" James prompted.

Jenny turned towards him. "I had a weird thought. What if the reason the Fae Queen towered over me in the dream was because I was a little girl?"

"A little girl? How little?"

A specific age briefly lit up in her head but almost immediately winked out. "I'm not sure, but a lot younger than I ever portrayed the peasant girl."

"But you were the peasant girl in your dream," said James. "Now I'm confused."

"You're not the only one," Jenny muttered.





Laura uttered a wistful sigh as she hovered near her family and stared at the door that had been designated the exit. Already, eager ponies from the first transport group were lining up near it. She could faintly hear engines idling just outside.

She glanced up at the skylights. A gorgeous azure sky was peppered by small puffs of clouds, making her heart ache and her wings quiver even as they held her aloft. She glanced down and frowned at the tag hanging from the string around her neck, which had the number "6" drawn upon it.

"Sorry you're not going to be in the same transport as the rest of us, honey," said Sarah in a gentle voice.

Laura turned in mid-air and landed on her hooves with a loud clop as she gazed at her family. Each of them sported a tag with the number "3" on them. "I kept telling them that I don't need a transport, but they wouldn't listen to me."

"That's government types for you," said Harold. "Do everything by the book and to hell with common sense. At least we won't have to deal with that for much longer."

"But we're still American citizens," said Bob. "We still need to abide by American law and procedure."

"I don't think the Constitution was written with ponies in mind, sport."

"I never got the impression from that vision that ponies were under any sort of formal government," Laura said. "But I guess it makes sense there should be one if the population gets big enough. I'm not sure how that would work, though."

"I don't think the federal government would like us making a separate government in their midst," said Bob.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Does it matter? It's not like we're going to make laws making murder legal or something stupid like that."

"There's more to law and government than that," Bob explained. "What about property? What about laws regarding how goods are bought and sold?"

Laura really didn't want to touch on these topics. They had never been her strong point, and it was one of the reasons she had dreading college: she saw herself being forced to learn subjects that simply didn't interest her, and she would do badly in them as a result. "I really think we need to take this one step at a time. Surely they wouldn't be letting us go if they hadn't thought of some of the same things. Don't tribal governments on reservations have some sort of autonomy?"

"Tribal sovereignty only goes so far," said Sarah. "It's rather complicated how it works."

"Then maybe this is a chance to simplify things," said Laura. "It's not like we even need to worry about the quality of the land we have, not with the earth ponies able to improve it and the pegasi to bring in all the rain that's needed."

Bob glanced towards the technicians who were approaching the exit door. "I guess I'm concerned about how much of an imposition this is on the remaining humans."

"We're not taking anything from them. We asked for a place to go, and they agreed to give it to us. It's really that simple. They could've told us no."

"I don't think a lot of ponies would take that answer well."

Laura uttered a sigh of exasperation. "But it didn't happen. I don't think there's any point in speculating about it."

She was frankly very glad she didn't need to worry about that outcome, for she saw no easy way for them to gain their freedom without generating some sort of ill will. Would the humans have actually tried to stop them if they had gone on their own to that particular plot of land? They were only trying to find a way to live happy and healthy without relying on humans to feed and shelter them. Wasn't the whole property thing just an overcomplicated boondoggle that stood in the way of what should really be quite simple?

More to the point: nothing in the vision said they couldn't welcome humans as well as they did other ponies. Certainly Laura felt no animosity towards them whatsoever.

A technician began making an announcement over a megaphone, the volume of which had been adjusted downward to be better suited for sensitive pony ears. "Attention, please. We are about to load the first transport. Only those designated for transport number one should be at the door. You will proceed single file. Please refrain from using magic until you disembark."

Laura's heart pounded. "It's finally happening. We're finally being let go."

"I have to admit, I wouldn't mind going by the old house one more time," said Sarah. "There are a few items of sentimental value I'd like to have."

Laura turned to her and smiled. "I can do it, Mom! I can just fly right over there and get whatever you want."

"How are you going to carry anything?" Jenny asked.

"I'm sure we can figure out a way to put together some sort of bag that can be slung over my barrel," said Laura.

Jenny smirked. "Saddlebags?"

Laura giggled. "Why not? Just without the actual saddle. Kelly already adjusted the straps of her backpack so she can just sling it over herself. I'm sure that--"

She was interrupted by the sound of a metal latch being undone, followed by a loud cheer and hoof-stomps. Laura turned around, and her breath caught.

A bright shaft of morning sunlight glowed with such splendor that it made the rest of the auditorium look even more drab than it had before. Laura swallowed as she stared, and her wings quivered against her sides as a fresh breath of early spring air wafted over her. At once, all her pegasus senses were alert, and her muscles tensed. Her wings unfolded from her sides almost of their own accord, as if to better feel that air on her feathers.

"Laura, are you all right?" Sarah asked.

Another breeze wafted over her, driven by an early morning wind that was so common at this time of year. She could even hear it whistling through the branches of trees that had yet to come out in leaf, and the distant roar of the wind's source rolling down the mountains.

She looked down at her tag for a moment, then hooked her fore-hoof into the string and yanked hard. The string briefly bit into the fur of her neck before it snapped, the tag falling to the floor with a faint clatter.

"Laura, what--??" her mother began.

"I'll see you all over there!" Laura cried before she leaped into the air. She turned her ears forward to attenuate her mother's protests and shouted, "Heads up!!"

The doorway was at least twice the height of a pony, and she could have threaded herself through the additional space with ease. Nevertheless, her pony brethren ducked as she rocketed overhead like a missile. A protest from a technician went unheard as Laura burst out of the building and soared into the beckoning skies.

Her wings pumped with not a desperate fury but a strong and sure confidence that she had never felt in her life. Her eyes widened at the glorious feeling of not just the air flowing over her fur and feathers, but the sheer reach of senses that she now understood had given her only the barest glimmer of what they could really do.

She soared at what would have been a dizzying pace to anyone other than a pegasus. The higher she went, the more exhilarated she felt. As she rose almost level to the nearby mountain peaks, she could sense not just the wind passing over her, but everything about it. The mountain wave flow that sustained it was like a tangible force. Words from weather reports that had been only a jumble of barely glimpsed meaning she now understood on an innate and almost intimate level.

The feelings were so intense that she wanted to cry, and she did indeed wipe away a few tears as she came level. Yet when she looked down, the tears threatened to well up again. The world was so beautiful from here. On plane trips, she had always liked to have the window seat so she could have such a view. That experience paled in comparison to this. She was completely unfettered, with only her own wings to rely upon.

"I can fly," Laura said, as if only truly realizing it now. "I can FLY!!"

Her heart soared almost as much as she had when she saw other pegasi having taken her cue and not bothered to be herded onto transports. She was about to call out to them when she heard her name screamed out in near exultation. She spun around in midair and gasped. "Emma!"

The familiar purple pegasus zoomed towards her and pulled her into a tight hug in mid-air. Laura breathed in Emma's scent, the presence of her dear friend making this experience feel complete.

"Oh, Emma, I'm so glad to see you!" Laura cried.

A huge smile stretched across Emma's muzzle. "I should've known you wouldn't want to wait, either!"

"Isn't this wonderful? Doesn't this feel great?"

"Yes, it does!" Emma said. "I almost thought this might be a fluke until I took off into the skies like it was second nature to me."

"Where's Joan?" Laura asked.

Emma blinked and glanced behind her. "That's funny, she was right behind me. She did make a comment about wanting a closer look at some of the clouds but--"

"Laura! Emma! Look at this!"

They turned as one and looked up. Joan was atop one of the finger-like clouds that rode the mountain wave and stretched out from the peaks. It took them a moment to realize her wings were folded at her sides, and yet she remained level with the clouds.

Laura gasped and flew upwards for better look. "What ... Joan are you actually--?!"

"Standing on a cloud?" Joan said. "You bet I am!"

Emma zoomed up. "We can walk on clouds?!" She zipped forward and came alongside Joan. She lowered herself, her hooves starting to disappear into the white. She suddenly gasped and drew her wings in. "Ohmigod, we can walk on clouds!"

Laura soon joined them. As she lowered herself, she felt the cloud's moist touch become more tangible. It never became completely solid, yielding like fluffy cotton. It even had a bounce to it.

"This is all just so amazing," Laura murmured.

"I'm really tempted to try shaping this cloud into something," said Emma.

"What I want to do is see the site they're sending us to," said Joan.

Laura looked up. "Yes, we should. I'm anxious to see it myself."

"I was so happy when they said they were going to take your suggestion, Laura!" Emma said.

Laura hoped that meant she had made the right decision. Surely someone had double-checked it would be a good--

No, she had to stop doubting herself. She had the ability to make good decisions. She didn't need to fall back on Sunny's pep talk. "Come on, let's go."

They took off from their cloud perch and sailed downward towards the valley that ran north of the town of Lazy Pines. Laura smiled as she realized she could sense the thermals just like birds could, letting her occasionally rest her wings. They even followed one down in a slow, lazy spiral.

Emma suddenly thrust a hoof forward. "I think that's it over there."

Several vehicles lay at the periphery of an open field, and camping equipment was being unloaded by men in fatigues. There were also men in dark suits standing about.

"Wait, what?" Emma said suddenly in confusion. "There are other ponies here already?"

"Where?" said Joan. 

"Over there on the far side of the field."

Laura turned her head as well. Her gaze was first drawn to a particular human who stood there, whom she soon recognized as Doctor Conner. He stood among several ponies she had never seen before, and surrounding them was a tight contingent of the dark-suited men. One of the ponies was a pale pink unicorn with a tri-colored blue and cyan mane. Another unicorn had white fur and a purple mane. A pegasus stood near them with yellow fur and pink hair. Two earth ponies were present as well, one bright pink and the other orange. The former was bouncing on her hooves in an odd way, as if they were spring-loaded, and the latter wore a stetson upon her blond mane.

Now the pink unicorn's horn began to glow. Soon, Doctor Conner did as well, and then the other ponies.

"What's going on?" Emma asked.

Before Laura could reply, one of the National Guard soldiers looked up and shouted in alarm. He started to raise his weapon when his superior barked an order at him. Now some of the dark-suited men were looking up, and one shouted, "You were supposed to come with the transports! Get down on the ground at once!"

"We better do what they say, girls," said Joan.

Laura nodded and led the way. As soon as they settled on their hooves, Laura said, "We're sorry if we disrupted things. We just got excited at trying out real flying."

The man sighed. "And just how many others have done the same?"

"Among the pegasi? Um, a lot," Laura said in a sheepish tone. "So you'll probably get more arriving soon."

"Great, so much for security," the man muttered.

"I could have told you that," said Kevin Conner with a gentle smile as he walked over. "I really wouldn't worry about it. I can vouch for Laura here and her friends. In fact, I suggest you let me introduce them to Starlight and her friends."

"I'll have to clear that with Mr. Heller," said the suited man. "Meanwhile, if any more arrive, keep them all together."

Laura peered at the group of ponies. The pink one noticed her looking and stopped bouncing. She raised a fore-hoof and waved enthusiastically. Laura tilted her head in bemusement when the pony seemed to be singing, but in no language she understood. The white-furred one gently prodded her, and the pink one instead cried in English, "Hi, new-ponies-who-shouldn't-be-ponies-but-we're-going-to-call-you-that-for-now-anyway!"

Laura was even more confused as she looked at the yellow pegasus. She had two squirrels perched on her barrel, a bird sitting in her mane, and a bunny curled up asleep at her fore-hooves.

"Laura, look," Emma said in a hushed voice. "The orange one. Is that some sort of tattoo on her rear?"

Laura's eyes widened. The orange earth mare did indeed have a mark, one of three apples.

"They all have them," Joan said. "The yellow pegasus has one that looks like butterflies, and the white unicorn has diamonds."

"They're cutie marks," Laura said in a fascinated voice.

"I ... know what that means," Emma said. "Somehow, I do."

"It's like the final step," Joan said. "You get one when you're sure you know what you want to do."

"But aren't we already sure?"

"I think there's more to it than that, otherwise we'd all have them by now."

"I don't get this," Emma said. "How did they get theirs first? I thought our two shelters had the first full ponies."

"There's only one way to find out," said Laura. She looked up at Kevin. "I think we'd very much like to meet them, Doctor Conner."
> Chapter 48 - Agendas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starlight had only just finished casting the translation spell upon her friends when two pegasus fillies and one mare landed nearby to the general consternation of the humans.

"I thought they weren't supposed to show up until later," Starlight said.

Kevin smiled faintly. "The yellow one is Laura Tanner. I shouldn't be surprised she led the charge to get here early. If you don't need me for anything else, I should go smooth things over."

"We're fine," said Starlight. "Thanks for agreeing to help with the translation spell."

Kevin smiled more fully before heading away.

"<Oh, this is so exciting, I'm about ready to explode!>" Pinkie said in Equestrian. When the yellow pegasus filly looked towards her, she waved a fore-hoof wildly. "<Hi, new-ponies-who-shouldn't-be-ponies-but-we're-going-to-call-you-that-for-now-anyway!>"

"<Ah, Pinkie, dear,>" said Rarity, gently poking Pinkie's side. She cleared her throat and continued in English. "Perhaps you should use their native language."

"Oops, sorry!" Pinkie said before repeating her greeting.

Fluttershy's eyes suddenly widened, and she blushed. "I'm not sure I like how many swear words this language has."

"You don't have to use them," said Starlight. "I don't." After a pause she muttered, "Not much, anyway."

Applejack smiled. "Don't worry about it none, Fluttershy. I ain't about ta go usin' that there rough language anyway. I got lotsa other ways ta express stuff like that."

Rarity raised an eyebrow. "Now just how did you manage that?"

Applejack eyed her warily. "Uh, manage wut?"

Rarity smiled. "Not to put too fine a point on it, darling, but even in a foreign language, you somehow still sound like a country bumpkin."

Applejack smirked. "Flattery will get ya nowhere."

Fluttershy giggled as the bird perched in her mane flitted over to her haunches. "I'm just happy I can speak to the creatures here as well as at home. Though, um, their language is a bit more salty as well."

Starlight remembered their first unintentional contact with a native when Twilight tried to disguise them as the local wildlife. "Uh, yeah, the animals here are not like back in Equestria. We found out the hard way that their deer aren't sapient."

"Yes, I did sense that," said Fluttershy. "This world is really different from ours."

"Ya ain't kiddin'," said Applejack. "I almost couldn't believe they could do all this without magic. I'd love ta see how they do their farmin'."

"It's a lot more complicated than what earth ponies do back home," said Starlight.

"It's too bad Sunset felt she had to change these humans just to give them magic," said Rarity. "Perhaps they would find magic useful."

"We better not go down that rabbit hole," said Applejack. "Like Twilight said, we gotta stick ta the idea that this world ain't supposed ta have magic in the first place. This is more like tellin' them what they can do if they're stuck with it anyway."

"From the way these pegasi flew in, it appears they've become used to magic already," said Rarity.

"That's the whole problem," said Starlight. "Sunset made it so natural for them to be ponies that they act as if they've been that way since birth."

Starlight refrained from pointing out what to her was -- to use an Earthism -- the elephant in the room.  She had not discussed it openly with Twilight for fear of getting into an argument. Starlight had a lot of trouble with the idea of changing them back to human against their will. All she could think of was how she had gone against the will of the ponies of Our Town once they came to realize that they truly did miss their cutie marks. She realized this was a different situation, but she still struggled with bad memories of the past.

Pinkie jabbed a hoof in the direction Kevin had gone. "Hey, look, they're coming over here!"

Starlight turned as Kevin approached, the three humans-turned-ponies and several Secret Service agents in tow. She was taken by how much the ponies looked like native Equestrians. The only thing really out of place was the adult mare with no cutie mark. Even their scent was similar enough that they could pass for tourists in Ponyville.

Kevin gestured towards his Equestrian compatriots as he said, "This one is called Starlight Glimmer."

Starlight nodded and smiled faintly. "Hello."

"And these are her friends, Rarity ..." Kevin continued.

"Hello, dears."

"Applejack ..."

"Howdy."

"Pinkie Pie ..."

"Hellohellohello!"

"And Fluttershy."

"Um, hi."

The three pegasi exchanged bemused looks before the yellow and orange filly Kevin had referred to as Laura said, "Those are interesting names. I don't think I've ever heard ones like that before."

The purple-furred filly with the tri-colored red and orange hair turned to her yellow companion. "Are we supposed to have names like that now?"

"I'm not sure," said Laura. She smiled. "They do sound kind of neat."

The white-coated pegasus mare chuckled. "I wouldn't even know what kind of name like that to pick for myself."

"Don't need ta go changin' yer names on our account," said Applejack. "Besides, things are kinda different where we come from."

"In that case, I'm Laura," said Laura. She gestured towards the purple filly. "This is Emma." She indicated the white mare. "And Joan."

"I like those names myself," said Pinkie. "I wouldn't change a single letter."

"They're who ya are, after all," said Applejack.

Laura slowly smiled. "I guess you're right."

"These ponies are from another world," said Kevin.

Emma stared. "But they look like us."

"Are you saying they're aliens?" asked Joan.

"Yes!" Pinkie said. "We just don't have antennae or icky tentacles or ray guns. And we're not here to steal your water or your women."

Rarity stared at Pinkie. "What??"

"Oh, and we don't put icky things in you that burst out of you later, and then some woman with lots of weapons has to go hunt it down."

"Pinkie, where in the world are you getting this stuff?"

Pinkie smiled. "Just something that I got from Starlight's translation spell."

"But I didn't get ..." Rarity trailed off. "Never mind."

"They're from the same world as Sunset Shimmer," said Kevin.

Laura flinched.

Joan gave Fluttershy a bemused look. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, how are you doing that?"

"Hmm?" Fluttershy said as a chipmunk scampered up to her and settled at her fore-hooves to nibble on a nut. "How do I do what?"

"Get all those animals to sit still like that?"

Fluttershy smiled. "Oh, that! That's my talent. I can communicate with animals."

Emma stared. "You can?"

"Is that another pony thing?" Joan asked.

"Well, it's my thing, so to speak," said Fluttershy.

Laura glanced at Fluttershy's side. "Um, you're a pegasus, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So don't you control the weather in your world?"

Fluttershy chuckled. "Oh, no, I don't do anything like that. I hardly use my wings, actually."

Laura's eyes went wide. "Not use your wings??"

Fluttershy blushed and scraped a fore-hoof on the ground. "I mean, I can use them, and I do. I'm just not a strong flier. If you want to talk to a strong flier, my friend Rainbow Dash is--"

"She may not be the best example to use right now, dear," said Rarity gently. She turned towards the native ponies. "Surely some of you had interests before you became ponies."

Joan was the first to respond. "I did some work with bird rehabilitation."

"You did?" said Fluttershy. "What kind of rehabilitation?"

"I trained with professionals who helped wildlife in the wake of oil spills."

"Oil? I'm not sure I understand.”

"She means petroleum," said Kevin. "It's a kind of fuel burned for energy, but it's nasty stuff if it gets loose in the environment. It can coat birds' feathers and prevent them from flying."

"Then bird rehabilitation sounds like important work," said Fluttershy.

Joan smiled. "I didn't do it for very long, but yes, it was rewarding. I've done less drastic rehabilitation since then. It's how I was able to help us care for our wings."

"She's really good at that," said Laura.

Fluttershy smiled. "I'd love to talk to you more about it."

"Well, sure," said Joan in a slightly bemused voice. "Though it's not something I'm going to be doing now."

"An' why not?" Applejack asked.

Joan hesitated and glanced at her friends. "We have other things we can do. That we should be doing."

"Nothin' says ya can't do what ya like ta do." Applejack looked at Emma. "What 'bout you? Did ya have something ya liked to do before all this started?"

"Well," Emma said in a halting voice. "I was interested in sewing."

"Oh, really, now?" Rarity said with a smile.

"I mean, I wasn't that great at it, but--"

"Don't sell yourself short," said Joan. "Laura told me how well you adjusted your clothing when you were still changing."

Emma slowly smiled.

"We simply must talk more on that," said Rarity.

"But it's not something I can do now," said Emma.

"Why not?"

"Well, hooves don't really work well with that."

"Nonsense," Rarity declared. "I have a friend who does quite well for herself where fashion design is concerned, and she's an earth pony."

Emma's eyes widened. "An earth pony designing clothes? But ..."

Applejack grinned. "An' ya prob'ly thought all earth ponies did was farmin'."

Laura looked towards her. "You don't?"

"Me? I'm an apple farmer through and through. My family's been doin' it fer generations. But I got me a li'l sister who's gonna find her future off the farm, an' that's jus' fine and dandy with me."

"And I haven't farmed a single day in my life!" said Pinkie. "Wellll, technically we called what we did on the rock farm farming, but that's not quite the same thing."

Laura glanced first at the butterflies of Fluttershy's cutie mark, and then the balloons of Pinkie's. "Um, if I may ask, what do you do?" she asked of Pinkie.

Pinkie threw her forelegs wide. "I make ponies happy!"

Laura blinked in astonishment as a party horn sounded from nowhere and confetti materialized out of nothing and fluttered down around them. Starlight wondered if subjecting the native ponies to Pinkie Pie right from the start was a good idea.

"I can throw some of the best parties," said Pinkie. "I'd love to throw a Welcome To Ponykind party for every one of your friends."

"Ah, Pinkie--" Rarity began.

"Oh, yes, right, I forgot, they're not supposed to be ponies. Maybe a Welcome To Being Ponies Until Twilight Comes Up With A Whiz-Bang Way To Change You Back party?"

"Not supposed to be ponies?" Laura said. "That doesn't make any sense. We are ponies."

"But you weren't before," said Pinkie.

"Does that matter?"

Starlight raised a hoof. "Pinkie, don't try to debate the point, it's no use. That's not what we're here for."

"I agree, but I am innerested as to what this here filly did before all this happened," said Applejack.

"Who, me?" Laura said in an uncertain voice. "Well, nothing, really."

"Ya sure? Nothing ya really had a callin' fer or something ya could do really well?"

Laura shook her head. "Nothing. I felt like I was just drifting through life."

"That can happen ta the best of us, sugarcube. It can be jus' a matter of time before ya find it."

"But I already have," Laura protested. "I can fly. I can make clouds. All three of us made a cloud on our first attempt, and it was indoors."

Starlight wondered how many more humans had seen this transformation as Laura had: giving them a purpose that they didn't have before. It was hard not to want to be happy for this young pony.

"And it was fun to do," said Emma.

"And I want to see what else I can do," said Joan.

"Of course," said Applejack. "Our point is, jus' don't loose sight of what else ya like ta do."

"I really don't have anything else," said Laura.

"Yet."

Laura looked towards the sky for a moment. "Right now, all I care about is what I can do as a pegasus. It's not because I have to, but because I want to. I know that this was done purposely to us for reasons I don't completely understand, but I honestly don't care anymore."

"What Applejack means, dear, is that the course of your life is not set in stone," said Rarity. "Even if you acquire a cutie mark, nothing says you cannot pursue other interests."

"Yes, about that," said Laura. "When does a cutie mark happen?"

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "You know about cutie marks? Did you learn that from Sunset?"

"No, she never mentioned them at all. It was just something that came to me."

"It did to all of us eventually," said Emma. "But Laura thought of it first."

Starlight thought back to some of her earliest research into cutie mark magic. The one thing she could never quite figure out was its ultimate source. She had left the question unanswered when she realized it was irrelevant for what she originally wanted to do.

Nothing in Sunset's transformation spell referenced cutie marks, yet Derpy had acquired one anyway. They had speculated that it was simply inherent to being a pony. Young ponies in Equestria learned about cutie marks at an early age from their parents and teachers, but what if the very knowledge of it was indeed inherent as well?

"But I don't know all the details," said Laura. "Just that it's very significant, like a rite of passage. From talking to the other ponies, I'm not the only one starting to think about it."

Starlight looked at her friends and could tell they were in something of a quandary. A cutie mark was not something one was supposed to discourage a pony from getting. "All we can really say is that it's not something you can force into being," Starlight said. "It happens when it's time to happen, and even then you may still need to figure out exactly what it means. You don't need to dwell on it all the time."

Applejack chuckled. "My li'l sister and her friends fretted about it for a long time, an' it jus' happened one day when they weren't really expectin' it."

"I just feel like it would make me complete somehow," said Laura. "I keep hearing about how we're not supposed to be like this, and I'm afraid somepony will want to take all this away from me. Maybe if I have a cutie mark, they'd think twice about it."

Starlight almost shivered at how close Laura had come to the truth.

"I think she has a point, though, Laura," said Joan. "No need to worry yourself about it."

"I just want to have some fun seeing what I can do," said Emma. "Having a cutie mark would be cool, but I'm not really all that worried about it." She glanced at Rarity. "Especially since there might be more things that I can do than I thought."

Starlight watched as Laura looked thoughtful. From her size, she couldn't be more than maybe sixteen or seventeen, yet she seemed far more mature than her age. It was little wonder her friends looked to her as a sort of leader.

Laura turned her head. By this time, other pegasi had landed, and the approaching sound of diesel engines heralded the arrival of the first transport. "We better go and get with the others." She turned back towards Starlight and her friends. "It was really nice to meet you all. Will you be staying for a while?"

"Of course," said Pinkie. "We want to meet all the ponies!"

Laura smiled before she and her friends flew off.

"I'm not sure we should have started talking to them until the rest arrived," said Rarity. "Twilight gave the impression we were to talk to them as a group."

"Yeah, but as I got ta thinkin' about it, I realized that the biggest problem we're facin' is their herd instinct," said Applejack. "Talkin' ta them as one big group is jus' gonna play along with that. We gotta get 'em thinkin' like individuals."

"Applejack has a point," said Starlight. "And Twilight did give us latitude to decide how to approach this."

Pinkie suddenly thrust a hoof past Starlight. "Oo, something's up!"

Starlight turned just as a Secret Service agent came rushing over. "Miss Glimmer? You're needed back at the magic lab at once."

"What's going on?" Starlight asked.

"Miss Sparkle needs to consult with you. She said it had something to do with Sunset's cutie mark."





Starlight arrived at the lab in the basement of Sunset's house to find Twilight slowly pacing about the pedestal which held the jar containing Sunset's cutie mark. Ever since it had been placed there, four heavily armed soldiers had stood watch over it, but now they had stepped away to allow Twilight access.

Starlight's eyes widened. When she had last seen the cutie mark, it was floating serenely in the center of the jar. Now it jittered about like a nervous firefly. “Uhh, it shouldn't be doing that.”

Twilight looked towards Starlight. "I know, which is why I called you. It started about twenty minutes ago. I can't figure out why or if we need to be worried about it."

Starlight stepped up to the jar and peered into it. She lighted her horn. "I'm not sensing any active tampering."

"I didn't, either," said Twilight as she turned away. "I decided to let you handle this so I can get back to finishing Sunset's spell."

"How's that working out?" Starlight asked without taking her eyes from the jar.

"It's progressing, if slower than I wanted," said Twilight in a tired voice. "I've had to adjust my request for materials twice now. I fear I'm running the mages ragged back home."

"They could use the exercise," Starlight quipped. "What about the thaumic pulse? Have they done that?"

"Yes, it went off without any problems despite the power outage. Apparently the EAS towers have their own isolated electrical supply. It's too soon to tell whether it had the appropriate effect."

Starlight lifted the jar in her magic and brought it closer. "Well, like all cutie marks I've taken, I can feel it trying to reunite with its owner."

"I was concerned that pull had become stronger somehow," said Twilight.

"I don't think that's what's happening here. It's more like it's being buffeted around by eddies in the magic flow, like a leaf in the wind."

"Could the buildup of transformation magic be doing that? It's at the point where it's saturating even my senses."

Starlight narrowed her eyes and cast another spell, magical energy spiraling around the jar and into the air above it. She studied the pattern for a few moments before blinking in surprise. "No, not transformation magic. Cutie mark magic."

Twilight looked towards her. "Wait, what?"

Starlight replaced the jar and turned towards her friend. "In many ways, cutie mark magic is mysterious and my knowledge of it is incomplete. But it's still magic, and it follows the same tenets as other magic types, which means its flow can be detected when present."

"Is that even possible? I thought it was more a passive thing."

"Yes, it's passive after the mark appears," said Starlight. "But before that, it can be sensed. If I had gone forward with my original plans, I would've devoted research to finding how to sense when a young pony would get their cutie mark and intercept or interrupt it somehow."

"But the surge for an individual pony would be rather strong and fast, almost like trying to catch a bullet from one of the human's guns."

"Yes, but when it's starting to build up for potentially thousands or millions of ponies, it kinda gets a lot more noticeable," said Starlight. "I had theorized that there was a prelude to being marked, like an actor waiting offstage to make an entrance." She glanced at the jar. "Apparently, my theory was correct. What a way to find out."

Twilight's eyes widened. "But if you are correct, that could mean that many of these transformed humans are closer to attaining a cutie mark than we ever thought!"

"Possibly," said Starlight. "It's all speculation at this point."

Twilight face-hoofed. "As if we don't have enough deadlines! Is there any way you can stop or stall this?"

"Not a chance. Even if I had completed that research, this is a scale beyond what I could hope to do anything about."

Twilight took a deep breath. "All right, no need to panic. My friends are going to talk to the transformed humans and show them that they can decide what to do for themselves. If they can get enough of them rethinking their lives, that could delay their cutie marks for a while."

"Let's hope so," said Starlight. "I have no idea if the presence of the magic means it's a done deal or not. Honestly, when it comes to cutie marks, I'm beginning to think a human term applies very well to me: one-hit wonder. About the only other idea I've ever come up with is an enchantment to temporarily switch cutie marks, and I don't see any use for that."

"Starlight, I know you said this may be beyond your abilities, but please see if there is anything you can do," said Twilight. "Even if it's just understanding better the nature of what's happening."

"I'll do my best." Starlight turned back towards the jar. "But I have a more immediate concern."

Twilight glanced at the jar. "Sunset's cutie mark?"

"If it is responding to the flow of cutie mark magic, this buffeting may get worse and potentially damage the enchantment on the glass."

"Maybe we should send it through the portal," said Twilight. "That would remove it from the buffeting, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," said Starlight. "Right now, that sounds like the best option."

"We'll have to clear it with Mr. Heller, but I doubt he'll object."

"I'll take care of it," said Starlight. "You focus on Sunset's spell."

"Thank you. I'll bring this up with Princess Celestia. She's currently looking for a means to contact Triss so I can speak with her."

Starlight frowned. "I'm going to be honest with you, Twilight. I don't know whether we can trust her completely."

"I'd like some questions answered myself," said Twilight.

For Starlight, it ran deeper than that, but she had trouble putting it into words. She saw how Celestia, another immortal being far younger than Triss, had taken upon herself the decision to suppress the memories of all her subjects. In Starlight's mind, part of why Celestia did it was because she had the power to do so. She had read that Celestia accrued her power over time, thus she could only imagine what kind of power a being billions of years older could possess, or what her mindset was concerning using that power to her own ends.

The humans had another saying: absolute power corrupts absolutely. Had she heard that phrase before all this had started, she would've considered Celestia to be an exception. Yet while casting the memory suppression spell was not a fall to corruption per se, it did represent an action that ponies considered outside the norm for her. Who knew what a being like Triss might do?





As Starlight settled into the role of being the primary contact for the humans to allow Twilight to work uninterrupted on her plans for the counterspell -- or Operation Bright Sunrise as the humans called it -- she began to appreciate the huge task that Twilight would have after the crisis was over. Starlight doubted she would ever have the patience for it.

"I'll have to clear this with my superiors," said Anthony. "But I think they'll acquiesce if it means preventing Sunset from regaining her abilities, especially if there's a clear danger."

"I actually don't know if there's any danger," said Starlight. "I just want to be careful."

"Agreed."

"Meanwhile, I have a request." Starlight levitated a dozen gems over towards Anthony's side of the table. "These hold an enchantment that some of our mages back home have cast. It's designed to tell if the thaumic pulse had any effect."

Anthony picked up and examined one of the gems. "How do they work?"

"Bring one to an area you want to check and tap the gem three times," said Starlight. "If the gem glows green, then it's detected that new transformations have been halted temporarily. If it glows some other color, note what color it is and let me know."

"How large an area does one of these check?"

"Not very large. No more than a hundred miles. So you'll just have to take a random sample and call it good. Twilight is fairly certain that if they all turn up green, we're good."

Anthony put down the gem and turned to another agent. "Arrange for these to be flown out at once. Let Washington figure out where they want to test."

"Yes, sir," said the agent as he stood and took out his cell phone.

Starlight glanced at the agent as he stepped away from the table. "You still have cell phone coverage?"

"The towers have their own backup power," said Anthony. "And we've temporarily knocked civilians off the networks except for emergency systems like 911."

Starlight was only slowly coming to understand how Earth technology worked, but already she could see things she wished Equestria had. Certainly being able to pick up a device and within seconds speak to someone on the other side of the world as easily as talking to someone next door would be a boon. Foals who had grown up and left home to seek their own future could be contacted in seconds instead of days as it would be via mail.

At the same time, she saw the downsides. Even their first day on this world, she had smelled the pollution given off by just one vehicle. Since then, it remained an ever-present and unpleasant odor that she had to ignore. She could see other reasons now why the transformed might not want to be changed back. In their new forms, they could do things that needed no polluting technology to accomplish.

Yet she was not here to judge the humans. They had no magic, and they had to find other ways to accomplish the same tasks. She just wished that Sunset had found a less invasive way to introduce magic to them.

"Your request about Sunset's cutie mark dovetails into something I wanted to talk to you about," said Anthony. He slid a folder across the table. "I want to know if we need to be worried about this."

Starlight opened the folder with her magic. Inside was the transcript of an interview with a person named Robert McDermott describing his vision. "When did this happen?"

"This morning. He had Sunset's vision last night just as he completed his transformation."

Starlight frowned. "I told you the psychic shield I set up around Josie probably wouldn't work. Dream magic is not the same as mind magic."

"That's not why I called your attention to it, but now that you brought it up, do you have any alternate ideas?"

Starlight had almost replied "nothing short of killing the night ponies" but didn't want to give the humans any more ideas than they already had. She really didn't care for how harsh their justice system was. She could only speculate what they would have done to her in wake of her attempt to tamper with the timeline, or even what she did in Our Town considering how much they threw the term "brainwashing" about.

That was another reason she would not want Twilight's job after this was over: she would have to constantly walk the tightrope of concealing her past transgressions from a suspicious humanity.

"Not at the moment," Starlight said.

"What about temporarily relocating the night ponies to Equestria as you're doing with Sunset's cutie mark?"

"Yeah, that could work, but we'd have to round up all of them, and I thought Sandra said earlier that there's been reports of full transformations outside the emergency zone. Night ponies are linked together in the dream world. Soon as one got the vision, they all did." Starlight gestured to the transcript. "So back to this. Am I reading this right? He was able to challenge the figure in the vision?"

"He's the unofficially adopted son of the Tanners," said Anthony. "He was told of Sunset's culpability."

"Then I'd say this is proof that Twilight was right, that they can still think for themselves."

"That's not the point I want to debate. I'm more concerned with the final part of the vision. It almost suggests that he didn't need to worry about Sunset because she'll be all right in the end. I wouldn't be concerned about this if it wasn't for what's happening with Sunset's cutie mark."

"You think someone is going to help her escape?"

"Considering that at least one member of the same family seems to be ignoring the revelation concerning Sunset and is still happy and content to be a pony -- and has expressed a desire to talk to Sunset herself -- yes, I feel it's a genuine concern."

Starlight set down the folder. "Maybe if Sunset had appeared in their vision, yeah, you'd have a point, but I think you're being a tiny bit paranoid. As far as I can tell, what's happening to her cutie mark has nothing to do with whatever anyone feels about her."

Starlight did admit to some concern, especially considering how unmarking Sunset had taken such effort, but the last thing she wanted was for the humans to reverse themselves concerning letting the transformed come together. She really felt like having her friends talk to them had a chance of working, if the encounter with Joan and Emma was any indication.

Anthony leaned forward. "Doctor Conner keeps harping on the idea that the transformed are not about to start an armed revolt. What he fails to understand is that with magic, it's entirely possible to execute a successful unarmed revolt.”

Starlight frowned. "The unicorns are wired for nothing more than the basic levitation spell. Given the friendship utopia that Sunset wanted to create, I doubt she would have taught them combat spells."

"We're more concerned with the pegasi," said Anthony. "Of all the pony tribes, they have the most potential to do damage on a large scale."

"Oh, come on!"

"Perhaps they can't fire missiles or drop bombs, but being able to induce a crippling drought or flood might be just as effective."

"Ponies would never do such a thing!" Starlight proclaimed.

"You mean Equestrian ponies would never do such a thing. Who knows what the exact mindset of these ponies will be when they see that they won't be living in a universal pony utopia?"

"Try asking them," Starlight retorted. "Oh, wait, never mind. They're too brainwashed for that."

Anthony folded his hands and regarded Starlight with forced patience. "Perhaps this should wait until Twilight has more time."

Starlight wanted to agree. She had no idea how Twilight managed to put up with this. Starlight admitted she was looking through a more narrow lens; the transformed humans were largely indistinguishable from ponies back home, other than their heightened herd instinct which Equestrian ponies themselves had at one point in the past.

"Well, sorry, you're stuck with me," said Starlight. "Look, I get it, you don't understand what's going to happen. That's why my friends are here. Don't be fooled by their unassuming nature. Fluttershy may be timid, but I'm told she stared down a freaking dragon about a hundred times her size and made it cry. Hell, she stared down a damn cockatrice! Oh, but, wait, she's a pegasus, too, so now you're going to worry that--"

"All right, enough," said Anthony. "I get it."

"I hope so. All we want is a chance to fix this. You trusted us this far; we're asking for just a little more. The pegasi will not be wreaking havoc with your weather. If you think it will help, we can call on one more friend, a pegasus who's probably the best there is at both flying and weather control. She can make sure they don't cause a disaster by accident."

Anthony tapped a finger on the table. Starlight found that gesture annoying, but it generally meant he was about to come to a conclusion. "We're still going to keep the pegasi under close observation, especially Laura Tanner, considering her close ties to Sunset's human persona."

"From what I know of that filly, I doubt she'll be much of a threat."

"Still, I feel this is an adequate compromise until we're sure there is no plot concerning Sunset."

"Now that we got that out of the way, there's something else I wanted to talk about," said Starlight. "Twilight doesn't want to ask this question because she's afraid of the answer, so I'll ask it instead: what are your world's plans for Sunset?"

"That's still being discussed at a level far above me," said Anthony. "So all I have are possibilities."

"Please humor me and name some."

"There's talk of putting her on trial similar to the way the Nazis were at Nuremberg. She would be given a chance to defend her actions, but it's unlikely going to sway anyone."

"I already consider her a crazy-ass nutball even if Twilight doesn't," said Starlight.

"The bulk of the discussion revolves around what to do with her upon a guilty verdict. You may believe that we would jump at the chance to execute her, but not every head of state condones the death sentence, even in a situation like this. In that case, the question becomes how to incarcerate her without risking her using her magic to escape, even for only as long as it takes to try her."

"If you keep her separated from her cutie mark, there's not a lot she can do."

"But can you guarantee that? I've heard you openly admit that cutie mark magic is still very much a mystery to you."

Starlight could have explained to him that she managed to keep the cutie marks of an entire town away from their owners for some time before she was discovered, but that would have meant admitting her duplicitous past.

Anthony leaned back in his seat. "That leaves us with some rather unsavory options, such as surgically removing or breaking her horn."

Starlight's stomach turned. "That's disgusting!"

"As I said--"

"It's also outright mutilation, and we won't have any part in that," Starlight snapped. "Considering how many blood vessels are in a unicorn horn, you'd likely kill her anyway in the attempt."

"As I said, these are only possibilities right now," said Anthony. "I am sure they will want to talk to Twilight first before deciding anything."

Starlight hoped they would, because she doubted she could get through more of this conversation without getting sick. She hopped off the chair. "I better get back to the settlement and see how my friends are doing. And, yeah, don't worry, if anyone there is fomenting rebellion, you'll be the first to know."

She trotted out before Anthony could say another word.





Twilight gazes at the ethereal corridor with both fondness and wistfulness. Here is where she had gained her Ascension, something she had not thought would ever happen – or even could happen. It is a reminder of the enormous responsibility she took on that day. She wants to think that she would not have had it any other way even if she had known what sort of decisions and challenges awaited her.

Celestia smiles as she steps up to her former student. "You remember this place?"

"It's hard not to," Twilight says in a hushed voice. "It made me what I am today."

"You made you what you are today, Twilight," Celestia replies. "Never forget that. I am little more than an arbiter when it comes to Ascension. Even this place is just a facilitator. Perhaps I still do not know the exact nature of the forces which govern this place, nor why they once considered Sunset worthy of such, but nothing is arbitrary about it."

"And Flurry Heart?"

"She is still a mystery to me. I imagine none of us will understand until she is older, perhaps not until she gains her cutie mark."

Twilight's face becomes troubled as she is reminded of what could be about to happen on Earth. "We better get going, I need to get back to work on that magic mirror."

Celestia nods. "Come with me."

Twilight falls into step beside Celestia. "Star Singer told me you're the one Triss really wants to see."

"As grateful as I am to Triss -- if she indeed was the being who warned me upon reaching the second threshold -- I wish to meet her under less dire circumstances, especially after some of the doubts you expressed about her."

"I hope I'm wrong," Twilight says. "I hope there's some other explanation."

"I do as well." Celestia stops and lifts a hoof. "Over there."

Ahead is a diffuse circle of pale white light. Twilight can sense the portal magic even from there. "You managed to interface this plane with Sunset's portal!"

Celestia smiles. "Thanks to your equations."

"I wasn't sure they would work in this realm."

Celestia turns to Twilight. "You have a far greater understanding of magic than you give yourself credit for, beyond that even of Starswirl the Bearded."

Twilight's pupils shrink, and her ears draw back. "What?? No, Starswirl is beyond comparison, he--"

"Twilight," Celestia says firmly. "Nopony can be thought of as so powerful or clever that nopony else can aspire to reach their level of prowess. Even me. When you cross that second threshold, you have the potential to become more powerful than either myself or Luna."

Twilight swallows hard. It is bad enough she may have to decide the fate of Sunset, but to hear she may have even bigger responsibilities waiting for her is just a little too much for her to take in. "All right, let me take care of this."

"If you can, please present to Triss my idea concerning a means to contact Sunset."

"I will."

Twilight approaches the circle of light. She pauses before it, takes a deep breath, and steps through.

At once she is in another place. Her eyes widen. Everything here emphasizes the vastness of this universe, even on the macroscopic scale in which she trods. Galaxies at her hooves, stars in the air, great displays of distant and myriad planets all serve to make her feel like she is no more than a tiny speck, a single grain of sand on a cosmic beach.

Yet she can already sense she is not alone, even before a voice says, "You must be Twilight Sparkle. Welcome."

Twilight turns, and she is at once reminded of her last trip to the dragon kingdom when her gaze falls upon the golden-crowned form which approaches her on claws as quiet as pegasi hooves on clouds. "And you are Triss," Twilight says in a voice betraying a small amount of wonder at seeing such an immeasurably old being.

Triss smiles as she sits down upon her haunches. "I admit, I had hoped to see Princess Celestia, but I am glad to meet you as well."

"You understand that I'm trying to stop what's happening on Earth?"

Triss nods once. "I do. I contacted Star Singer specifically to help in that effort."

"Unfortunately, it didn't deter Sunset."

"But at least you know the truth about the threat she brings upon this world."

Twilight cannot help but be in awe of this creature. She thought Celestia to be old, but her former mentor is but a foal compared to a being like this. She feels that Triss could teach her things about magic that are no more than glimmers of possibility in her own thoughts.

She shakes off these musings for now. "But is it the whole truth?"

Triss tilts her head. "I do not understand."

"Is there something else you should tell me?"

"I know a great deal that you do not about this universe, but to share all that knowledge would take centuries, even millennia."

"That's not what I mean," Twilight says a little more sharply than intended. "I want to know if you took any other action in this crisis. Was contacting Star Singer the only thing you did?"

Triss regards Twilight with a glistening gaze for a long moment before she finally replies in a soft voice, "You sound like you already know, or you wouldn't be asking me."

"Sunset never planned for the crystal ponies. There's no way she could. But a being like you who may have had glimpses into Equestria over the eons--"

"They're not exactly like the crystal ponies of your world," Triss states. "For example, the ones of your world could never do what you intend concerning your counterspell."

Twilight's eyes widen. "You already know what I plan to do? Are you watching me somehow?"

"Not exactly. You are a fellow great mage. I knew of Sunset's incomplete conduit spell. I knew what crystal ponies of Equestria could do. I knew what sort of enormous effort it would take to cast a counterspell, and I thus attempted to facilitate matters."

"So you did modify her transformation spell?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand," Twilight says in a rising voice. "If you have that sort of power, why didn't you outright stop her?"

Triss is quiet for a long moment. She raises her head and turns towards the round windows displaying the planetscapes. She sweeps a fore-claw towards them. "Have you looked at these, Twilight?"

Twilight lifts her gaze. "What about them?"

Triss points. "This one."

Twilight's breath catches as she sees what Star Singer had described: a world covered in husks of crystal towers.

"Or this one."

Now she is directed towards a landscape dominated by an enormous tree similar to the Tree of Harmony, except it is a long dead, crumbling shell.

"And this."

Twilight's stomach twists as her eyes fall upon an open graveyard of bleached white skeletons of deer-like creatures, forever preserved by the lack of atmosphere. She forces her gaze from it. "What's the purpose of showing me this?"

Triss lowers her now trembling fore-leg. "I have seen more death than any creature should be forced to endure no matter what her crime, and all because one civilization feared what they did not understand."

"Then that is all the more reason to want to stop Sunset right from the start!" Twilight cries. "Tell me the truth, Triss. Did you have the power to stop her?"

Triss takes a slow, deep breath. "I did."

"And why didn't you?!"

"Using the enormous power that opened up to me upon crossing the second threshold still takes great care, planning, and time," Triss explains. "I had exactly one chance to do the right thing."

"The right thing was stopping Sunset," Twilight declares. "Again, I ask, why didn't you?"

"You can look at these worlds and ask me that?!" Triss thunders.

Twilight gasps and steps back, her ears flattening.

"You have no idea what it's like to have watched quadrillions of beings die and knowing you're doomed to watch quadrillions more because you can do nothing to stop them!" Triss cries, her voice cracking. "I found myself asking, what if Sunset were partially successful, and a true technomagical society could be realized? They would have both the power to detect the Devourers, and the means and motivation to destroy them."

"I don't believe this," Twilight says. "You're as bad as Sunset!"

"You can say that after seeing all this death?"

"You don't have any more right to play with the destiny of a species than she does!" Twilight shouts.

"And if you were in my place, Princess Twilight Sparkle, and the destiny of a number of beings many orders of magnitude greater than your very age were at stake, what would you do?"

Twilight has no immediate answer as she is forced to recall her struggle with deciding the fate of a single pony. She also remembers the fear she shared with Sandra and Kevin about potential unborn foals who could be conceived before she has a chance to even attempt changing anyone back.

"I am not only thinking of this universe, but yours as well," says Triss.

"That's what Sunset said," says Twilight in a low voice.

"But not in the way she intends. What if a random portal opens close enough for a Devourer to detect Equestria? I don't want to see your people hurt any more than the magical beings of this universe."

Twilight frowns. "It's interesting how many of these words came from Sunset when she was trying to justify her actions."

"Do not equate me with her. I would never have advocated the forced transformation of an entire species, but I could not give up the opportunity that had presented itself."

"And you're doing the same thing Sunset did. You're ignoring humanity's own magical awakening!"

Triss pauses. "I beg your pardon?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"That there are humans who can passively channel magic."

Triss takes a step closer to Twilight, her voice more urgent. "Twilight, what are you telling me?"

"I'm telling you that humanity was on the brink of developing magic on their own! It would've taken millennia before it developed enough to be of any use, but that's a blink of an eye to a creature like you."

Triss remains silent, her expression somber and troubled.

"Granted, there's some question of whether Equestria was responsible," Twilight explains. "But that's beside the point. You could have stopped Sunset, humanity would develop magic on their own, and they could have achieved your grand purpose. They would've been introduced to magic slowly so their culture could assimilate it. Instead, you just helped give this planet an enormous culture shock. Magic will be feared instead of embraced, just like the civilization who created the Devourers in the first place! Who knows how long it will take before they come to some sort of accommodation?"

"I-I had no idea," Triss says in a quavering voice.

Twilight's heart aches as she contemplates whether to believe this creature or not. She ponders Triss' earlier question again: what would Twilight have done in a situation like this? She wants to believe she would have taken more time to pursue another solution.

Triss raises her shimmering gaze. "A species has never taken that long to develop magic. I never checked again because I didn't think I needed to."

Twilight takes a deep breath. "Then it is indeed possible that our explorers did something to awaken that potential. So in a way, we both bear responsibility for what happens to humanity."

Tears trickle from Triss' eyes. "You cannot imagine how much sorrow this brings me. I feel I have condemned this species as much as if they had come into magic on their own. I don't want to be responsible for the very death that I have lamented for billions of years!"

"Don't count them out just yet. If there's anything I've learned about humanity, it's that they are extremely tenacious and resourceful. Also, Princess Celestia is committed to helping in any way possible. If the humans are destined to have a pony population in their midst, we'll help them make it work."

"How can I help?" Triss begs. "Please, I want to help! I want to fix my horrible mistake!"

"Would it be possible to change the transformed back?"

"Sadly, no," says Triss. "It would take me enough time and preparation for such a feat that several generations of ponies would pass. Then I fear it would cause more harm than good."

"What about what you did with Star Singer?" Twilight asks. "Could you do something like that again?"

"Perhaps," Triss says. "With Star Singer, it was easier, as she had already reached out and contacted me. But for what purpose?"

"To help educate Sunset Shimmer on what she did wrong," Twilight declares. "And just maybe she will be repentant enough to help me and earn some mercy from the humans."
> Chapter 49 - Realities
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fred's heart lurched when he first felt the warmth of the sun upon his coat, as it was both welcome and a reminder of twenty years spent as a recluse. The sensation became more acute when he disembarked from the transport, and his hooves touched real earth for the first time. At once he felt a kinship to not just the soil but the very strata of the Rocky Mountains themselves. What should have been strange to someone who lived as a hermit instead felt achingly familiar, like an old and dear friend he had lost contact with only to run into by chance.

He had to remind himself that none of this was by chance. His very senses and thoughts had been forged in the crucible of a grand scheme to brand humanity with one pony's vision of the future.

Yet he could not deny how good it felt to have such a connection to the earth or the sense of great strength. He was not alone; already several fellow earth ponies had tested their strength against fallen timbers. At least they would have no want for firewood, and already a few ponies were discussing ways to build their own shelters out of wood despite the provided tents.

They could tell him it was an induced herd mentality, but it didn't make the sense of belonging any less real. Sunset's doing, yes, but he damn well could find a way to use it to his own ends. He fully intended to live up to his promise of helping the others get this community going, but he wanted his own ideas of what to do after that.

Several ponies were gathered about a long, shallow depression, the only streak of land not covered in budding early spring vegetation. As he approached, an earth pony stallion with dusky red fur and violet hair gestured towards the depression with a hoof as he asked, "Hey, Harry, is this what I think it is?"

Fred stepped up beside a brighter red stallion with blue hair who replied, "If you think this is a dry stream bed, then, yeah."

Fred recognized the first stallion as Ken, James' father. Ken turned his head and followed the stream bed with his eyes until it rose with the land. "It heads up into those hills."

"That's where the headwaters would be in the summer," said the one addressed as Harry.

"Sure would be useful to have that now. We'd have a nice source of fresh water right in the middle of the settlement."

"Normally, you'd have to wait until May when the melt-water starts from the mountain top, but--"

"We don't have to wait until May!" cried an eager Laura who hovered nearby. Next to her were Emma and Joan, as inseparable here as they had been in the shelter. She turned to the brighter red stallion. "Dad, we can give you all the water you want."

Now Fred knew who the stallion was: Harold Tanner.

Harold looked around. He jabbed a hoof further downstream. "It flattens out a bit further on. It could flood."

"Divert it," Fred said. "It's not hard to do. Had to help do the same thing once during my time with the army. Rocks and packed earth would do."

Harold turned to face him. "I feel I should know you."

Laura flew up, smiling. "This is Fred Turner. We've become friends in our time together in the shelter."

Fred felt relieved that Laura still considered him a friend despite having their differences earlier. "Yeah, I'm Fred, the un-crazified version."

"If you're Laura's friend, that's good enough for me," Harold said. "And, yeah, my Dad once made a makeshift water diversion using concrete left over from when he repaired a line of fencing."

"We don't have concrete to work with, but so long as we don't get a torrent of water, we can make do with rocks and earth."

"We're going to need some awfully big rocks."

"Maybe the unicorns can help?" Ken suggested.

The unicorn filly Kelly stood nearby, and her eyes widened. "Uh, how big are we talking about? It took me a bit just to lift my backpack."

"Pegasi work better as a team," Laura said. "Maybe several unicorns working together can lift something heavier."

"I'm willing to try."

Laura turned to Kelly while still hovering. "Can you go find my Mom and ask if she'll help you with that? She's gotten about as good as you at lifting and moving stuff."

"Sure thing," said Kelly before she headed away.

Fred glanced towards Harold and saw a blue-furred face with a bright pink mane staring curiously at him with purple eyes from the other side of the stallion. When the filly realized that he was looking at her, she blinked and looked away. Fred could guess who that was.

"Sarah would be good to consult about this in either case," said Harold. "She knows a lot about how the Native Americans lived and cared for the land."

Fred raised an eyebrow slightly. Sarah Tanner the archaeologist was Laura's mother? Fred had stumbled on her theories while trolling the internet for any scrap of "proof" of his delusions, and he had briefly considered contacting her, believing her inability to gain traction for her theories part of another related conspiracy.

The "little Afghani girl" had convinced him not to pursue that line of inquiry.

"Sounds like we got a plan," Ken said.

Laura turned to her cohorts. "Let's get up there and see what kind of moisture we're dealing with."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Emma said with a wide smile.

"I haven't even begun to stretch my wings yet," said Joan.

As the pegasi flew off, Ken turned to Harold. "In the meantime, Harry, you want to help me with something?"

"Sure." Harold stepped forward, leaving Fred alone with the blue-and-pink earth filly. The filly regarded him with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"I managed to get that group of wildflower shoots to grow to full plants, but I don't seem to have the knack to make them flower," said Ken.

"I can help with that." Harold looked back towards the filly. "Did you want to come along, Jenny?"

Fred had guessed right.

Jenny glanced at her father, then back to Fred. "I'll catch up."

Harold nodded, and he trotted away with Ken. 

Jenny broke the silence first. "So, uh, you're Mr. Turner."

"Yeah, that's me," said Fred. "And you can call me Fred. Sorry I scared you and your coltfriend that day. I never intended to hurt you."

"I know that now," said Jenny. "I was just curious about something."

"What's that?"

"When we were on your property, we felt something weird. Some sort of odd sensation, like a tingling. Or a voice calling from the distance."

Fred considered. "How much do you know about Sunny?"

"She's supposed to have caused all this."

"Yeah, that's right, and she used some sort of device to do it. The officers outside my bunker felt it, too, at least until Sunset made off with it."

Jenny's ears drooped slightly. "Oh. Okay, thanks."

"Something the matter, kid?"

Jenny hesitated. "I hoped maybe it would clear up something. It didn't."

"Clear up what?"

"Just a stupid dream I had. I thought a figure from it might have something to do with Sunny, but I'm probably being stupid."

"I take it you don't mean that vision we all had," Fred said.

"No, it was totally different," said Jenny. "It's dumb, really, just part of a bunch of fantasies I used to have. It made me do stupid things, like trespassing on your property."

When Fred was in the depths of delusion, he could often take fragmented bits of unrelated information and weave them together into a tapestry that made them seem as if they could hang together. He would have feared he could too easily fall back into that mindset and see connections where there were none if it were not for the fact that an alien pony had come through a magic portal to wreak havoc on his life and the planet.

"Sometimes people do stupid things for good reasons." Fred sat down. "You want to tell me about it?"

"You really don't want to hear it."

"Try me."

Jenny looked on with uncertainty.

"Kid, there isn't anything you can tell me that's any more strange than some of the shit I came up with," said Fred. "I'm the last pony to pass judgment."

Jenny glanced the way her father had gone, then up where Laura was little more than a colored dot against the sky. She stepped forward and sat next to Fred. "All right, here goes ..."





Sarah took a deep breath before turning her attention towards the boulder that, as a human, would have been too heavy for her to move let alone lift. Next to her, Kelly narrowed her eyes in determination as she said, "Are you ready, Mrs. Tanner?"

"I'm ready," said Sarah. "And, please, call me Sarah."

Kelly smiled without taking her gaze from the boulder. "Maybe one of us should go first? I'm not sure if magic can, well, collide or not."

"Be my guest."

Sarah watched as the glow from Kelly's horn surrounded the boulder, a strained look on the filly's face. Sarah remembered what Bob had told her, that this was exactly like casting a spell. She could almost see the runes in her head now, which became even more apparent when her own magical glow was added to the boulder. She felt Kelly's magic touching her own, much like a brush of fur against fur.

She willed the boulder to rise but felt active opposition, so much so that she at first thought she had done something wrong.

"I still can't budge this thing," Kelly said.

"Here, let me try, too," came Bob's voice as he trotted over. Soon his own horn's glow was added to the mix.

"I think it feels lighter!" Kelly said.

Sarah's muscles strained as if trying to add their strength to the spell. The boulder finally did start to work itself loose from the soil. Sarah still felt a sting of disappointment. She had hoped her magic would be stronger than this by now so she could really make a contribution.

"I think you need a fourth horn, dears," came an unfamiliar female voice. A new glow joined the others, and finally the boulder slowly rose.

Kelly stomped her fore-hooves once. "Ha, we did it!"

Sarah glanced towards the white-coated and purple-maned pony who had joined their effort. "Thank you."

The unicorn mare smiled. "My pleasure, darling. But do tell me where you want this, as it is awfully heavy."

Sarah tended to keep her eyes on whatever she was levitating, yet she had noticed that once she had hold of something, she could feel it on a level beyond her normal senses. Thus when she turned her head to point a hoof towards the dry stream bed, her magic remained focused on the boulder. "Over there."

"The trick to this is to have one of you lead," said the white unicorn. "That way your magic is not working at opposite ends."

"Sarah can lead," said Kelly. "I'm fine with that."

"Same here," said Bob.

Sarah smiled. Having seen how well Laura had taken to a leadership role had left her wanting the same. For so long, she had let her family go on automatic, and now she had a chance to actually take charge again. Having seen how her family's issues seemed to evaporate without any work on her part had left her wanting for something else to do. In a way, she was following in Laura's earlier hoofsteps in wanting to make up for past mistakes.

Sarah backed up a step and pulled the boulder towards her. She felt resistance at first as three other unicorns' magic tried to adjust, but soon they had the boulder moving. "Keep it low to the ground," she said when she felt a slight tug upwards. "Just in case we accidentally drop it."

"A wise precaution," said the white unicorn. "But I do believe we have this."

Kelly was panting lightly. "It's still difficult to keep in the air."

"Only a little further," Sarah said. She turned her head and saw that some smaller boulders had been put into place, and a few unicorns sat resting nearby. She spotted Ken and said, "Where do you want this one?"

The stallion turned around, his eyes widening. "Wow, that's just what we need!" He drew a cross in the dirt with a fore-hoof. "Right here."

They set it down with a thump and a puff of dirt to the relieved sighs of Kelly and Bob. "Maybe that was a bit too much for me to attempt," said Bob. "I felt like I was more a hindrance near the end."

"You did very well, dear," said the white unicorn. "You all did."

"I gotta go talk to Harry about something," said Ken. "If more rocks show up, just set them off to the side."

"All right," said Sarah. She turned to the white unicorn. Only then did she notice the three diamonds on the unicorn's haunches. "Thanks for the help, um ..."

"Rarity," said the unicorn with a smile.

"I'm Sarah. This is Kelly and Bob."

"Pleased to meet all of you," said Rarity.

"You have your cutie mark already?" Bob asked in a bemused voice.

Sarah had overheard the term from one of Laura's conversations with her friends but had not inquired too closely. It had sounded familiar enough that she felt she should already know all about it. Seeing one now only made her more fascinated.

"Yes, well," said Rarity. "You could say that I'm from out of town."

Now that Rarity had brought attention to it, Sarah had noticed that the mare's scent had a subtly different undertone.

"I'd like to see if we can find some more boulders, though maybe not quite as large as that last one," said Kelly.

"I'm game for that," said Bob. "What about you, Aunt Sarah?"

Rarity stepped forward before Sarah could reply. "Might I have a word with you before you go, Sarah?"

"Of course," said Sarah. "I'll catch up with the rest of you."

Bob nodded, and he and Kelly left.

"We have a mutual friend, a Doctor Kevin Conner," said Rarity. Her horn glowed, and she plucked an envelope from her mane. "He asked me to give you this."

Sarah took the curiosity in her magic. The envelope was unsealed, and it bulged slightly at one end.

"Do you need help opening it?" asked Rarity.

"No, I need the practice." Sarah had discovered that lifting and moving objects was one thing, but finer manipulation required a different skill. She had mastered moving pages in a book, so she tried to apply some of those techniques here. After a bit of concentration, she managed to lift the flap and pull the sides of the envelope apart. Inside was a letter and a bunch of photographs. She extracted the letter first and unfolded it.

Sorry I couldn't give these to you in person, the letter read in Kevin's neat handwriting, but I wanted to make sure you received them. The artifacts that had been stolen from one of your sites were recovered but had to be used in an effort to stop ETS which, sadly, destroyed them. However, I made absolutely sure that someone with the proper knowledge in your field preserved at least one memory of them.

Sarah uttered a small gasp, and the letter shook in her grip until Rarity's magic reached out to steady it. "I-I'm okay," Sarah said in a shaky voice. She swallowed as she reached into the envelope and extracted the photos. Her breath caught as she looked at the first one, a collection of some of the more exquisite gems, properly set against rulers to give an indication of scale. Every last photo was done with the same professional aplomb that she had applied herself when she had first discovered them. She almost couldn't tell the difference between these and her memory of those first pictures.

Sarah fell hard to her haunches, the envelope and letter forgotten. They had fallen only a few inches before Rarity caught them.

"Are you all right?" Rarity asked.

Sarah swallowed hard, her eyes glistening, her heart aching. "I want to go back to it so badly."

Rarity came around so she could see the photos herself. "I take it you mean archaeology."

"Yes." Sarah lowered the photos and looked towards where Bob and Kelly had been joined by another unicorn as they tried lifting a boulder together. "But I can't."

"And why can't you?"

Sarah looked back towards Rarity. "There's too much else to do that's more important."

Rarity considered. "Do you know what a cutie mark is, dear?"

"I know something about it, yes. We're supposed to get one when we know what our talent is. I assumed it would be for something important, like helping get this community going."

"I want you to understand something," said Rarity. "Nopony is defined solely by their cutie mark. You see mine? It means I have a talent at finding gems. Would you think that means I am a gem merchant?"

Sarah hesitated. "Um, I don't know. I guess maybe I might think that."

"I'm actually a fashion designer. I use my talent more indirectly. My point is, Sarah, nothing says you cannot have varied interests, not even a cutie mark." She paused, looking thoughtful. "What is the phrase? Ah, yes. Don't put all your eggs in one barrel."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Basket."

Rarity face-hoofed. "Basket, yes. Honestly, I don't know how Pinkie does this so well. Anyway, I hope you see my point."

"If you don't mind me asking, just where do you come from?" Sarah asked.

"I am told you were informed of the truth behind a particular pony who had masterminded this mass transformation scheme?"

"You mean Sunny? Sunset Shimmer?"

"The very one. I am from the same world as she, just not of her, ah, questionable mindset."

Sarah's heart thumped. "But that means ... your ancestors were the ones who made contact with the Ancestral Puebloans?"

"Yes, that would be right."

Sarah remembered the time she had been on a Hopi reservation to interview some of the members of the tribe as part of her research. She had been in total awe of them as living descendants of the very people who had so captured her interest. Now that sensation was coming back to her, her heart aching once more. "Thank you," Sarah said in a soft and slightly quavering voice.

Rarity smiled. "My pleasure. I hope I helped in some way."

Sarah's smile widened as she stared at the photos again. "I think you did."





Halfway into Jenny's discussion with Fred -- which also included the tale of the storm from ten years prior -- they had attracted the attention of a unicorn with a pale pink coat and tri-colored blue and cyan mane who introduced herself as "Starlight Glimmer." Fred apparently knew this strangely named pony as the friend of an even more oddly named "Twilight Sparkle." Yet the more Jenny rolled the names around in her head, the more she thought they sounded rather appropriate for ponies.

"So you think this is more of Sunset's work?" Fred asked of Starlight.

Jenny's eyes widened. "Wait, you don't mean that Sunny is behind my dream?"

"I don't know," said Starlight. "It's possible."

"I heard you were supposed to be good with magic concerning ponies' heads," said Fred. "Anything you could do for this kid to help her figure this out?"

"Look, I didn't tell you all that to 'figure this out,'" Jenny said sharply. "And concerning the storm, if I did go through something that bad, I'd just as soon not remember it."

"Kid, sometimes we need to remember the bad stuff."

"And sometimes it's better to leave it the hell alone."

"I'm not doing anything against her will," said Starlight. "There's been enough of that."

"Yeah, I agree," said Fred. "But could you at least verify that somepony messed with her head?"

Jenny frowned. The last thing she wanted was for somepony to tell her she was crazy, and the idea that her mind could have been altered scared her almost as much as remembering the terror of that forgotten moment of her past. "Are you saying that this dream is like some sort of suppressed memory?"

"It's possible," said Starlight. "I just don't know why Sunset would want to purposely create a storm. That's more pegasus magic."

"In the dream, I got the sense that it was an accident," said Jenny. "Like she hadn't meant to do it and wanted to be forgiven for it."

Starlight stepped towards her. "I can cast a spell that would tell me if there is any lingering mind magic on you. It won't hurt, and it won't bring back any memories."

Jenny's heart pounded. As much as she wanted to know, this would open up yet another can of worms. She shuddered as she recalled Laura's description of how scared Jenny had been. Had Jenny's apparent fearlessness since then been just a huge lie, a way of hiding that past pain?

She now understood Laura's mindset. Laura was the most willing to toss her past away and make a new life for herself. Jenny could just walk away from this and do the same. Eventually the dream would fade away, and she could get on with her life. Yet was that a lie as well? Did Jenny's fantasies also spring from a need to hide the trauma?

"Answer me one thing," Jenny said. "How the hell do you even know a spell like that? All the other unicorns can do is move stuff around."

"I'm not from around here," said Starlight. "Twilight and I came here to help stop what Sunset is doing."

"But what happened to me was almost ten years ago. She was around then, too?"

"She's been planning this for a little over twenty years."

Jenny blinked. "But ... okay, if she was the cause of that storm, why involve herself with my family?"

"Maybe to make sure that memory block was still in place," said Fred.

"But she associated with Laura and hardly paid me any attention at all."

"If Twilight were here, she'd say that Sunset actually cared for your family," said Starlight, a dubious undertone to her voice. "You said this really affected your sister Laura more?"

"Yeah, she got all bent out of shape about it," said Jenny. "For years, apparently."

"Then maybe Sunset felt some sort of guilt over it."

"I have trouble seeing that, if you ask me," said Fred.

"My sister is a pegasus," Jenny said, her heart racing as more pieces fell into place. "She's really excited about being able to control the weather now."

Starlight frowned. "Sunset had admitted she had some control over the transformations. I wouldn't put it past her to have made your sister a pegasus with some strange idea that this would make it up to her somehow."

"Then you're saying her new life now is a lie as well," Jenny deadpanned.

"I don't think I want to get into that right now. Let me cast the spell and find out one way or the other."

Jenny let out a long sigh. "All right, fine, do it."

Starlight's horn glowed, and Jenny braced herself, but she need not have bothered. All she felt was a vague sense of warmth washing over her, little more than what the sun was already doing on her coat. Starlight closed her eyes in concentration for a few seconds, a small frown crossing her muzzle. Jenny's heart skipped a beat, and she bit her lower lip.

Starlight opened her eyes, and the glow of her horn faded. "It's faint, but it's there."

"What's there?" Jenny demanded.

"There's definitely some sort of enchantment in place," said Starlight. "And from the pattern of the magic, it could be used to suppress memories."

Jenny swallowed hard.

"I can't tell exactly what kind of memory without probing further, and that risks dispelling the enchantment entirely. Though I have to warn you that it may fail on it's own."

"I-is that why I had that dream?" Jenny asked in a quavering voice.

"Maybe," said Starlight. "It's very delicate work, like whoever did it was taking great care not to disrupt your mind more than they had to."

Jenny stomped her fore-hooves. "I spent my whole life indulging in fantasies, and the very first one was about a weather wizard! Then just before all this started happening, I came up with the Fae Queen! Are you telling me all this was the result of somepony fucking with my head?!"

Starlight looked uneasy. "I can't say for sure. It could be."

Jenny stared and fell to her haunches.

"Sorry you had to hear it this way," said Fred. "Now you know how I felt."

"Becoming a pony made you un-crazy," Jenny declared. "What about me? Why can't that happen to me so I can just get on with life?"

"It's not quite the same thing, kid."

"My father is going on and on about going back to farming," Jenny said. "I love listening to him talk about it, and I love how he likes to let me talk about how it reminds me of some of the fantasies I came up with. But I don't want to actually do it. I don't want to spend the rest of my life farming!"

"Nothing says you have to," said Fred.

"But we have to get this community going, don't we?" Jenny said in a plaintive voice. "I can't make it all about me again!"

"Kid, there's a difference between helping out and making something your life's work," said Fred. "I'm not about to make farming a career, either. There's more to life than that."

"A life that's a complete lie in my case," Jenny grumbled. "A few days ago, I finally figured out what I am. Now I still have to figure out who I am. I feel like my life has been slotted into something I don't want, and what I do want, I'm not sure I want it for the right reasons."

"I can't believe I'm going to willingly subject someone to her," said Starlight. "But I think I know who you really need to talk to."

Jenny doubted all the words in the world could help, but they were all she had at her disposal. "Maybe later. Right now, I need to talk to my sister. I can't let her decide her life based on a lie."

Jenny spun around and galloped off before either Starlight or Fred could say another word.





When Harold saw that the boulder Sarah and the others had brought in was just a touch off the mark, it took only his own massive strength to nudge it into position. A profound satisfaction came over him when he felt his muscles tense and his rear hooves dig into the ground, his fore-hooves pressed to the boulder. Back on the farm, he used to marvel at his father's strength, especially given how thin and wiry the man was. Harold was less than half his size now, and likely possessed about ten times the strength.

He wanted to believe that his father would be proud of him.

"Good job there, Harry," said Ken.

Harold turned towards Ken. "Thanks. You know where Jenny went off to? I was hoping to show her some of this stuff."

"I saw her talking to Fred and some unicorn mare I didn't recognize, then she galloped off at full tilt," said Ken. "Want me to track her down?"

Jenny had been acting a bit funny that morning, like something was on her mind. Even their renewed bond had not been enough for her to feel like she could reveal it. "Might be best to just leave her alone for now. We got enough hooves on this. I'd actually like to talk to Sarah about something."

"I think I know where she went off to," said Ken as he turned around. "Be back soon."

Harold watched him go before surveying his progress. He saw another large boulder that was out of place, and he started towards it when a new voice approached. "Mind if I offer a suggestion?"

Harold turned to see an orange earth mare, her blond mane covered by a hat that looked similar to a stetson. "Not at all."

"When movin' heavy stuff like this, it's better ta do it kinda in reverse," said the mare. She turned her rear to the boulder and planted her rear hooves against it. "Most of yer strength is in the hindquarters. Much easier ta brace yerself with yer fore-hooves, and then just--" The mare's hind leg muscles flexed, and the boulder was nudged the foot or so needed. "--like so. Almost like yer buckin' something, but jus' less force."

"Thanks," Harold said. "I had considered doing it that way, but thought I might not know my own strength and break it instead."

The mare pushed off the boulder, her rear hooves landing with a clop. "It does pay ta practice. Ya got the strength but not the skill yet. It comes in time, no worries."

Harold smiled. It sounded like something his father might say. "I don't believe I know you."

"Name's Applejack."

"Harold, but you can call me Harry."

"I kinda already heard yer name from some of the others," said Applejack. "Seems yer a popular pony."

"I'm really just trying to do my part," said Harold. "I was in a sort of leadership role exactly once, and it was only because something needed to be done."

"I hear ya there. Had to learn how ta be a mother ta my little sister when our parents passed on."

"Sorry to hear that. I lost my mother when I was young, so I can understand."

"Then ya know the importance of family."

"Damn right I do," said Harold. "I was worried about my family all through the crisis, which is why I'm glad it's over."

"Ya mentioned yer Mom passed away," said Applejack. "What about yer father?"

"Oh, um, he's still around."

Applejack glanced about.

"Not here," Harold said quickly. He ran a hoof through his mane. "It's kind of a long story. Let's just say we don't see eye to eye."

Applejack turned her gaze back to him. "That kinda thing happens sometimes, I can unnerstand. What family do ya have here?"

"A wife, two daughters, and an adopted son. Well, sort of adopted. Again, long story."

Applejack chuckled. "Long stories are what makes family innerestin'. I got a little sister, a big brother, and a grandmother. I could go on fer hours about their shenanigans. In fact, sometimes we do."

Harold tilted his head. "I'm sorry?"

"My family's real close," said Applejack. "We spend a lotta time tellin' stories, or talkin' about whatever's on our minds, an' jus' enjoyin' life in general."

"That's what we're trying to do here," said Harold.

Applejack considered. "Define 'we'."

Harold hesitated, having not expected the question. He looked around and swept a fore-hoof towards the others. "Well, everypony around us. We're like one large family."

Applejack turned slightly and looked over the rest of the community. "Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' close ta yer fellow ponies, or helpin' them out when they need it. Jus' don't lose sight of the fact that yer family will always need ya first and foremost."

"Well, I'm not," Harold said. "My loyalty to my family is one of things driving me."

"What about yer father?"

Harold frowned slightly. "I'd rather not go into that."

"Sorry if it's a raw nerve," Applejack said softly. "Didn't mean ta get ya riled up."

"It's fine," Harold said in a flat voice. After a pause, he added, "I don't even know what's going on with him right now. Or my sister, for that matter."

"Mebbe it would be good ta devote some time ta findin' out."

"With all the work I have to do here?"

"Never let that kinda thing stand in the way of family matters," said Applejack. "There's a time fer work, there's a time fer gettin' together with other ponies, but there's always gotta be time fer family."

"I don't think you even understand what went on between my father and I," said Harold.

"Yer right, I don't, an' I won't claim ya can jus' patch things up lickety-split," said Applejack. "Though I haven't heard ya say anythin' about havin' trouble with yer sister."

Harold's eyes grew cloudy. "We're like best friends as well as siblings," he said in a low voice. "But she can take care of herself."

"It ain't about whether yer family can fend fer themselves. It's about takin' the time to connect with the ones ya can." Applejack swept a foreleg towards the other ponies. "What yer doin' here is important, I won't deny that, it jus' shouldn't be yer entire life."

Harold turned his head towards the others in silent contemplation.

"I heard yer parents were inta farmin'," Applejack prompted gently.

"Yes," said Harold in a low voice. "It was everything they ever wanted to do."

"An' what about neighbors an' such?"

"We knew them all. We were all close friends."

"But did yer family spend every last moment with them?"

"Well, no, of course ..." Harold trailed off. He looked back out towards the others again.

"Of course they didn't," Applejack said. "They had their own lives, their own family."

Harold snapped her gaze back to Applejack. "Are you saying that the vision we all had was a lie?"

"Not sayin' it ain't got its good points," Applejack said. "I tend ta like the idea of bein' honest, personally. But I got that outta my own head. Ya don't need a dream ta tell ya what ya should be doin'."

"Well, I'm not. At least, I didn't think I was." Harold paused before adding in a more firm voice, "And not to put too fine a point on it, but you don't have to tell me what I should be doing, either."

"Yer absolutely right," said Applejack. "All I'm doin' is offerin' advice. Ya gotta think fer yerself what ya wanna do. I see that vision as jus' another form of advice. Ya gotta decide whether ya wanna accept it or not."

"I thought I had," Harold said in a softer voice. "I honestly like the idea of going back to farming. I didn't really need the vision to tell me that. All it did was help me admit it."

"If ya feel that's what you really did get out of it, then that's fine. Jus' don't let it be all ya are. Yer more than what ya can do fer the community."

Harold realized why this conversation sounded so hauntingly familiar. Some of Applejack's words had come from his own mouth in those arguments leading up to his final break with his father.

Something happened to George Tanner after his wife passed on, something that made him devote more and more of his time to farming until it was all he could ever do or talk about. Either he felt like he had to do the work of two people since Mom was gone, or he never truly expressed his grief over the passing of his wife and simply poured all that energy into work so he wouldn't have to think about it again.

Harold took a deep breath. He had no similar tragedy driving him. If anything, his family was safe, happy, and well. Except he had no idea what was going on with his sister Mary or his father. What if he were falling into the same trap of using his new life to cover up his feelings for them?

"Ya okay there, sugarcube?" Applejack asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harold. "You just made me think a little harder on something than I had wanted."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"No, it's not." Harold looked towards the other ponies. "I have to admit, had this been a few weeks ago, I would've likely told you to butt out soon as you started talking about family. Instead, I actually listened to you."

"I won't go inta the mess that caused all this in the first place," Applejack said. "But I will say that if any kinda good can come outta it, I'm all for it."

"Thanks for talking to me," said Harold. "Is your family nearby? I'd love to meet them."

"Ah, ya might say I'm from outta town. But if we ever do get the chance, I'm sure they'd love ta meet ya. Jus' hope ya like apples, cuz you'd be fed a lot of it."

Harold smiled. "I love apples."

"Then I'd say y'all would get along jus' great." Applejack glanced to the side. "Well, I gotta go, but I hope ta see ya again soon."

"Same here," said Harold. "Thanks again."

Applejack tipped her hat with her fore-hoof, smiled, and headed away.





"Jenny, you're not making any sense!" Laura cried.

"Only because you're not listening to me!" Jenny exclaimed.

"I am listening to you, I just don't understand any of this. Why would Sunny want to mess with your head in the first place?"

"Isn't it obvious? To cover up something she did wrong, something I happened to see."

"But it happened ten years ago," Laura protested.

"Oh, and who was the one who obsessed over that, huh?" Jenny jabbed a fore-hoof at Laura's chest. "You did, and now you can ignore it like it never happened, all because you earned a fancy set of wings?"

"I'm trying to move past what happened. I had moved past it, until you decided to dredge it up again with some ridiculous story about Sunny enchanting you."

"It is not ridiculous!"

"How can you say that? You're basing this on what a unicorn who you never met before told you."

"She's from the same world as Sunny."

"And how's that supposed to convince me? You're still saying she used some sort of spell that just happened to reveal--"

"Look, Sunny managed to transform humans into ponies!" Jenny shouted. "If she could do something like that, then another of her kind could do this!"

"Says the pony who's not even a unicorn," Laura said. "How did you suddenly become the expert on magic?"

Jenny was about to respond when she turned her head. Only then did Laura hear the approaching hoof-steps. Jenny jabbed a fore-hoof at the approaching pale pink unicorn. "Then ask her for yourself."

Laura recognized the approaching unicorn mare as one of the strange ponies she had met earlier. Where the unicorn had not spoken much, all Laura remembered of her was her name: Starlight Glimmer.

Jenny turned fully towards Starlight. "You talk to her. I can't get through that thick pegasus skull of hers."

"Well, I'll try," said Starlight.

Laura would rather not discuss it any further. She already had people try to convince her that Sunny was some great criminal; she didn't need Jenny trying to pin every bad thing that happened in her life on Sunny as well.

"What Jenny said about her memory being suppressed is correct," said Starlight. "I can detect the enchantment, and I can tell it's been there for some time."

Laura's gaze flicked from Starlight to Jenny and back again. "Okay, fine, but does that prove that Sunny did it?"

"Well, no, I can't prove it directly," said Starlight. "But given that magic is involved, and Sunset was the only person on the whole planet who could practice magic at the time, it kinda reduces the number of suspects."

"But you came here from another world," Laura said. "Who's to say somepony else didn't come here and do it?"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Jenny said. "You're just trying to find reasons to defend her."

"Why would I do otherwise when she was nothing but kind towards me? When everything she did or said encouraged me?"

"Encouraged you to be something you're not supposed to be," said Starlight.

"But ... but what difference should that make now? Did either of you ever think that maybe I don't care how I got here?"

"And you'd accept that even after hearing she messed with my head??" Jenny said in astonishment.

Laura swallowed. "I-I can't say what Sunny did or didn't do before I met her, and I certainly don't know what her reasoning was."

"I don't think you have to know her 'reasoning' to figure out that messing with somepony's head is wrong."

"Why are you doing this to me?!" Laura wailed. "Why are you trying to shoot down everything I've accomplished and everything I can accomplish?!"

"Neither of us are," said Starlight. "We just want to make sure you do it for the right reasons."

"Don't you get it?" Jenny cried in exasperation. "Sunny was behind that storm that happened when I was five, so that means--"

"And now she's supposed to be able to do pegasus magic?" Laura said. "What the hell, Jenny?!"

"Let me finish. Fine. If she was behind that storm, and if she had messed with my fucking head, and if that all led to you moping about it for ten years, then everything that's happened to you up to this point is her fault."

Laura ran a trembling hoof through her mane. "Jenny, what are you saying?"

Starlight stepped up to her. "What she's saying is that it's possible the way you feel now about being a pegasus is specifically because Sunset messed with your life in the first place. If that storm had never happened, you might very well be a different person now."

Laura's heart pounded. She wanted to pretend this conversation had never happened. If her sister had been any other pony, or if Starlight had not been one of Doctor Conner's friends, she might be able to dismiss it as a complete fabrication. Instead, the thought tugged at the back of her mind: what if they were right?

She had believed that her transformation had given her a purpose. Yet the reason behind her lack of purpose had been her persistent struggle to live up to some amorphous goal of being more responsible. Now to find out that a conscious and willful force had been behind the events that led to a ten year introspection that did little more than run her around in circles of regret and guilt--

"Um, Laura?" came Emma's tentative voice.

Laura turned her head to see Emma, Joan, and ten other pegasi hovering nearby. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to let you know that the other ponies are finished, and we can create the rain any time," said Emma.

Laura stared at her friends. If everything Starlight and Jenny had said was true, would that mean she could have gained all these friends on her own? Would she never have had the burden of responsibility at a far earlier age than any child should be forced to shoulder? Would her relationship with Jenny never have become so strained?

She looked at herself. She flicked her tail and ruffled her wings. She was a pegasus. That was the reality, a reality which had convinced her that she needed this radical change in her life to give her a better sense of perspective. It had helped her heal, yet the very person who had helped initiate it had been the cause of the wound in the first place.

How much should that matter to her now?

"Just a moment, Emma." Laura turned to Starlight. "So your world has magic that can turn humans into ponies, and they can cast and detect enchantments that mess with the mind. What about time travel?"

Starlight's eyes widened. "What??"

"Do you have a spell that could turn back time and make it so that storm never happened in the first place?"

Starlight averted her gaze. "Uhhh ... well ... not really."

"Not really? Come on, you either have it or you don't!"

Starlight looked back at Laura. "Let's just say that I've learned from personal experience that time travel is not something to be messed with for any reason. It causes far more problems than it could ever solve."

"Laura, is something wrong?" Emma asked in an anxious voice.

Laura turned back towards her fellow pegasi and flexed her wings. She looked up into the sky and found herself longing to be there again. "No, nothing's wrong." She extended her wings fully and hovered over to them. "Let's do this."

"Laura, wait!" Starlight cried as she galloped over.

Laura spun around in place to face her. "Wait for what?! I have a job to do. I have a job I want to do."

"Don't you want to take the time to rethink all this in light of what we--"

"I can take all the time in the world, and nothing is going to change how my life turned out!" Laura shouted. "You just said yourself, there's no way to go back and change it! What's the point of lamenting over what might have been?"

Starlight frowned. "I just don't think letting Sunset dictate what you should be doing with your life is good motivation."

"I'm not," Laura said in a softer voice. Her next breath caught. Her eyes teared, but she forced her voice to remain steady, even as it became more bitter. "You want me to say it? Fine. Sunny betrayed me. She lied to me. She came to me under false pretenses. Does that satisfy you?"

"Laura, what are you talking about?" Emma said in a confused voice.

Laura wiped her eyes with the back of a hoof. "I'll explain later." She let out a shaky sigh as she turned back to Starlight and Jenny. "I want you two to understand this: I found something I love doing, that I'm good at, and that makes me happy."

"I know you can't see it for yourself," said Starlight. "But the reason you see it this way is--"

"Save it," Laura snapped. "I don't want to hear it anymore. Maybe you're right. Maybe my perception is skewed. Maybe more than just my body has been changed. Maybe this, maybe that, maybe the other. We can keep going on and on about it, and it doesn't change how I feel. It doesn't change the fact that I want this. More importantly, it doesn't change what I don't want to feel. I don't want to feel alone. I don't want to feel aimless. I don't want to doubt myself."

Starlight suddenly blinked. She glanced first at the other pegasi, then Laura. Her eyes widened.

"What's the matter?" Jenny asked.

"Laura, I have to warn you," said Starlight. "If you do this ... it's possible some of you -- maybe yourself -- won't have a chance to reconsider."

"As for my friends, I don't control what they do or think," said Laura. "As for me, I don't want that chance in the first place."

Before Starlight could respond, Laura shot off into the sky. She didn't even need to glance behind her to know that Emma and the rest had followed.





As they initially set about their task, Laura remained silent and relied on pegasus instinct for working together as they gathered moisture above what would be the headwaters of the stream they were about to create. Much of the initial work was done by her friends, and she took on more of a quiet leadership position.

The conversation with Jenny and Starlight would not leave her alone. They had left her with questions that had no answers. She found her thoughts running in circles that led her back to the same question: had she let Sunny define not just what but who she was, even if it was something she wanted?

Or she thought she wanted.

Laura had spent much of her childhood after that storm looking to be told what to do. She lived by what she perceived were the world's expectations of her. She had let that define her as a person for so many years. Then she was given new abilities and a new outlook that had let her break out of that mold, only now she had to consider the possibility that she had traded one mold for another.

Nothing about it was at all fair.

She could command the weather. She could make it rain or shine by mere flexing of muscle and exercise of will. She understood the underlying magic and mechanics of the weather more so than any of the pegasi she had met thus far. Perhaps she knew more than Fluttershy, given the pegasus' own admission that she didn't actively control the weather back in her world.

As the gathered moisture began to coalesce into the first clouds, Laura had to step in. She had to take command, she had to exercise a responsibility that she thought she had wanted. Yet was this truly her own accomplishment, or had Sunny been behind every last bit of it? How far had Sunny orchestrated Laura's life?

As many of her friends' eyes turned to her, she forced herself to shake off these thoughts. "This is looking really good. Now we need to concentrate it more and kickstart the rain."

"We're having some trouble at one end keeping it confined," said Emma.

"It's trying to spread out more than we want," said Joan as she looked off to the side.

Laura followed her friend's gaze and saw several pegasi struggling to keep a section of the clouds in line. She immediately sensed the problem and zipped over to them. "You're fighting a thermal. You need to find a way to work with it rather than against it."

"I thought we could overpower it," said one of the other pegasi.

"Maybe one day we can, but for now, we need to work with it somehow."

It took a bit of doing and some experimentation, but eventually Laura helped the others properly sort out their end of the growing but still unborn storm.

"Is it just me, or is it getting thicker?" asked Emma as she flew over.

"It is!" Laura said with a smile. "It means we've got it right. I think it's residual pegasus magic pulling in more moisture. It sort of feeds on itself."

Laura wanted to feel the same pride that she saw in the eyes of her fellow pegasi. She wanted to believe this was her own accomplishment. She didn't want to accept that this was programmed into her just to suit somepony else's purpose. Yet if Sunny was supposed to be out of the picture now, could Laura still be said to be following that purpose?

"You okay, Laura?" Emma asked.

Laura blinked. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem to be a little distant."

"I'm okay. Let's get this done." Laura advanced into the center of the gathered pegasi. "Okay, now we have to start the rain. Once we do, we need to make absolutely sure the storm stays put until we get enough water flowing."

"When we did this before, the rain sort of started on its own," said Joan.

"Yes, but I don't want to wait."

"But how do we start it going?" Emma asked. "Concentrate it more?"

"It's already thick enough to look pretty dark in the center," said Joan.

Laura glanced down and surveyed the cloud formation. This was their doing, their work, their will applied. A true accomplishment, or just another box to be checked on Sunny's ledger?

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and her thoughts. "We're overthinking this." She flew to the edge of the clouds. All her frustration and resentment threatened to boil over, and she had to give vent to them. She turned herself around, gritted her teeth, and let loose a powerful buck.

Power surged through her hindquarters as her rear hooves struck the clouds, and she felt them resist her with respectable force. This served only to spark greater resolve, and she let loose a second buck, her hooves quelling any recoil. Her strike radiated like ripples on a pond through the surrounding clouds, and water let loose in steady fall.

"Wow, is it really that simple?" Emma said as she flew along towards another section of the storm that had yet to start. She narrowed her eyes, turned, and bucked.

"A little more force!" Laura called out.

Emma grunted with the effort on her second try, and a torrent of rain was her reward as it joined that of what Laura had produced. "Woo-hoo, I did it!" Emma cried in delight.

"Everypony, form up around the rest before this part rains itself out!" Laura called out, but the other pegasi had already started to take up position and buck for all they were worth. Soon the skies under the clouds became dark with rain that fell like a burst from a summer thunderstorm.

"We did it!" Emma cried. She raised a fore-hoof towards Joan, and Joan smiled and touched her own raised hoof to it, like the pony equivalent of a hive-five.

Laura smiled faintly as she she traded a few with her friends. She should be proud of this accomplishment. Why should it matter how they got here? Was there anything inherently wrong with being part of a grander scheme? Wasn't her own inherent happiness enough? "I need a few pegasi to duck under the clouds and make sure the rain is falling where it needs to."

Emma, Joan, and a few others immediately volunteered and flew off.

Laura looked towards the remainder. Many of them were happy, even jubilant. Almost all of them had participated in her flying lesson back in the shelter. Had they volunteered out of a sense of loyalty to her? How many of them had been like her and lacked a purpose in life? How many had a purpose but now saw it changed?

Emma and her contingent suddenly zoomed back from under the clouds, their coats glistening with moisture. Laura already sensed their urgency and pushed aside her doubts as she turned towards them. "Is something the matter?"

"Laura, we have a problem!" Emma said, panting lightly.

A pegasus stallion flew up. "I used to work for the forestry service. I was trained to recognize places that might cause rock slides and the like. We got an overhang that may be let loose by all this rain. It could cause a bad mudslide!"

Other pegasi flew up. "What do we do?" one asked.

"Do we stop the rain?" asked another.

"How would we even do that?" asked a third.

"Just break up the storm, maybe?"

"After we spent all this time making it? We'd just have to do it all over again!"

"But we can't wait much longer! If that mudslide starts--"

"Show me where it is!" Laura said to the stallion.

The stallion took off, and Laura plunged after him. Ice cold rain pelted her as she slipped under the edge of the storm, yet the droplets seemed to slide off her wings and feathers even as they soaked into her fur and hair. She flew through the tempest almost as easily as she flew through the clear air, as if the magic of her flight were tied directly to reality itself rather than the constructs of wind and airflow.

The stallion hovered over an area at the edge of a high cliff, an outcropping of rock covered in loose soil and stone. "Right there!"

Laura looked down, her heart pounding. She looked back towards the skies. A quiver of both anticipation and excitement radiated through her being. She glanced back at Emma and Joan who had followed her.

"What do we do?" Emma said.

"I got this," Laura said in a determined voice, and she rocketed off towards the clouds.

She had seen the solution in her head, a synthesis of the concepts and techniques she had already devised. It would take too long to explain to the others; it was easier to just do it and demonstrate it later.

If it worked.

No, it would work. It had to work.

She flew towards the clouds, forcing her to close her eyes against the stinging rain. Yet she already sensed where she needed to go. She started to spin, and when she reached the cloud cover, she plunged through it like a corkscrew, taking some of the cloud material along with her. In the blink of an eye, she burst through into sunlight, and trailing behind her were the dissipating remnants of cloud cover she had pulled out like a plug.

A few pegasi looked on in astonishment, but Laura had no time to explain what she had just done. She flew back under the storm to see her friends crying out in delight. Laura drew astride them as she surveyed her work.

The ridge now stood bathed in a shaft of bright sunlight, the plants and rocks glistening in moisture. Streaks of rainbow light played at the edges of the circle of calm. Laura flew past them, which brushed by her coat as if they had true substance, and she hovered in the warm light.

"That was freaking amazing!" Emma cried.

"Laura, I swear, you truly can make it rain or shine," said Joan with a wide smile. "Even at the same time!"

Laura squinted up at the sun shining from the neat hole she had made in the clouds. A few other pegasi above the clouds were already peering into it with wonder.

Laura was convinced that Sunny couldn't possibly have anticipated that she would need this one specific talent. Maybe Sunny had laid all the groundwork, but Laura had made it her own. This was hers and nopony else's. She had taken what Sunny had given her and done something special with it. She didn't have to doubt herself anymore.

Several of her friends suddenly gasped. "L-Laura!" Emma cried in a quavering voice. "On your hindquarters ... i-is that ...??"

Laura craned her neck, but she already knew what she would see.

Her cutie mark.

A sun with rays spreading out from it was partially obscured by a black cloud from which rain fell. She knew what it represented on the surface, but she felt it had another meaning: the sun represented her relationship with Sunny, and the storm the revelations concerning her. Sunny had helped make this possible despite the taint that would now always surround Laura's memories of her. At least now one thing was abundantly clear: the debate was finally over.

She flew towards the others. "Let's get back topside," Laura said with a renewed confidence. "We need to keep an eye on this storm."
> Chapter 50 - The Sun Rises At Dusk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight narrowed her eyes as she examined a scroll containing the latest updates to the portal equations she had provided to the Canterlot mages. She levitated her mug to her lips and took a sip before declaring, "The thaumic variance coefficient is too high."

"We realize that, Princess," said one of the mages. "But we're hard-pressed to keep it within tolerances considering what you're attempting to do."

Twilight sighed. She already felt guilty for having Starlight take her place at the morning conference back on Earth, but once she was told that the schedule for completion of the magic mirror had threatened to slip, she had to step in herself. "What if we increase the power to the central matrix?"

When she received no immediate response, she looked up. She found the mage who had addressed her talking quietly but furiously to his cohorts. She just barely managed to suppress another sigh. She had hoped for a more open forum for ideas and discussion, but the Canterlot mages tended to be a stogy lot. Finally, the head mage addressed Twilight. "We can do that certainly, but that would put considerable strain on no fewer than three ley lines."

Twilight's eyes widened. "Can't you compensate with more magic sinks?"

"We could, but at the risk of reducing the safety margins."

"And what's the implication of that?"

"If we go above the threshold, we risk reaching a saturation point," said the mage. "We would see a condition where the new portal could be opened only at prescribed intervals of time, generally during the coincidence of certain cosmic events such as stellar or planetary body alignments."

Twilight frowned. The last thing she needed was a portal that would open only at some silly alignment of the moon with some arbitrary background stars. She shuffled the three dozen scrolls she held aloft in her magic until she came to the offending equations. "Fine," she declared as she applied a quill and levitated the altered document to the mage. "Here."

The mage took the scroll in his magic, and soon his eyes widened. "But ... but ..."

"Yes?" Twilight said in a testy voice before taking another sip from her mug.

The mage exchanged a nervous glance with his colleagues. "This would shift the problem from the safety margins to the thaumic power margins such that--"

"<Fuck the margins,> just do what I say," Twilight snapped. "Or what I wrote. You know what I mean."

The mage blinked. "Er ... I didn't get that first part."

Twilight blushed faintly. "Just a phrase in the other world's language. You, uh, don't want to know the translation. The point is, we can't be delicate right now. We need to take risks. We have to make it work. We can make it pretty later."

The mage nodded, but uncertainty remained in his eyes. "Princess, forgive me for asking, but are you quite all right?"

Twilight met his gaze with an unyielding one of her own. "Never better." She took another sip.

The mage's gaze flicked to the mug, and his nose wrinkled slightly. "It's just that concoction you're drinking--"

"It's coffee. What about it?"

"It's obviously not of Equestrian origin."

"It's called <espresso>," said Twilight. "Sorry, the word has no direct translation."

"My point is, Princess, since you're in Equestria, we could certainly procure for you a more palatable--"

"This has approximately one hundred and eighteen percent more caffeine than the best Equestrian blend!" Twilight declared. "That makes it vastly superior in my mind right now. Can we please get on with this and stop focusing on my choice of morning beverage?!"

Twilight should have realized that she was not going to get the sort of open forum discussion she had hoped for. Canterlot mages were indeed some of the most highly skilled unicorns in Equestria, but they were deeply steeped in old Canterlot tradition and protocol. Twilight held the title of Princess, therefore she was royalty, and they were expected to be deferential towards her and overly concerned for her health and well being.

Especially when it seemed she was asking them to do things with magic that had never been attempted before, at least by any sane mage.

"We're sorry, Princess," said the mage in a more contrite voice. "This is very taxing on all of us."

Twilight heard genuine emotion in that comment, and it softened her gaze somewhat. "I realize I'm pushing everypony hard, but no more than I'm pushing myself. We have only a day to get this done. We need the shortest possible--"

The door to the conference chamber glowed and burst open just before Starlight galloped inside. "Twilight, I need to talk to you!"

"Can it wait until after this conference?" Twilight asked.

She had her answer when Starlight circled the table and stepped right up to her. "We've got a problem."

"You were supposed to bring Sunset's cutie mark through the portal this morning."

"That's part of the problem. I can't."

Twilight frowned. "Don't tell me <Mr. Heller> didn't give you approval!"

"No, he got that cleared with his government," said Starlight. "When I mean I can't do it, I mean I physically can't do it."

Twilight lowered the documents. "What??"

"It won't come through the portal with me. When I finally left it behind and came through to ask the mages at this end what was up, they told me that something was disrupting the spatial warp manifold, whatever that is."

"I know what that means!" said one of the assembled mages. "It's what we surmised from the equations that the Princess supplied us, that powerful magic artifacts may interfere with the delicate magic flow of Sunset's original portal."

"But this new one should eliminate that problem," said another.

Starlight frowned. "That doesn't help us now."

"But a cutie mark is not an artifact!" declared the head mage. "Er ... or is it?"

"It's quite possible it's acting as something similar," said Starlight. "Cutie mark magic may not appear as spectacular as other forms, but it's pretty powerful in its own right. The fact that I can't completely sever the connection between cutie mark and pony may also have something to do with it."

"Then we wait until we have the magic mirror, and we send it through that," said Twilight in an exasperated voice.

"We may not have that long."

"I don't have time for another crisis!" Twilight yelled. She set aside her mug. "What's happened now?"

"That jittering effect on Sunset's cutie mark is getting worse," said Starlight. "The enchantment on the jar is breaking down."

"Renew it!"

"Don't you think I tried that?!" Starlight exclaimed. "I can't get the spell to stick. There's too much cutie mark magic flowing around it."

Twilight's pupils suddenly shrank. "But that would mean--!"

"That the transformed are starting to get cutie marks."

Twilight's heart sank. "What about <Sarah>?"

"She doesn't have one yet, but her daughter <Laura> does."

Twilight let out a shaky breath and shuddered.

"And about fifty others over the course of the day yesterday," said Starlight. "The good news is that very few of them are among ponies that our friends talked to." She paused before saying in a subdued voice, "You can blame Laura on me. I probably screwed up when I talked to her."

"I'm sure you did the best you could," said Twilight. "But I don't understand how you're not able to renew the enchantment."

Starlight frowned. "I'll tell you why: because Sunset did something to it."

"What?? But how could she? She's been unconscious this whole time!"

"I mean before she lowered her shield against me during the confrontation. You can't tell me she didn't have time to analyze my spell. She figured out really quickly that I was using an unusual spell against her. This must be the reason her cutie mark was so hard to remove. You said for yourself she may have fired off one last defensive spell. Well, we found it."

Twilight closed her eyes and covered them briefly with a fore-leg. "I don't have time to deal with this right now."

"I know, but you had a right to know what was going on," said Starlight.

"Have you informed the humans of your theory?"

"And give them an excuse to put a <gun> to her head?" Starlight said. "Absolutely not!"

Twilight swallowed hard. "We can't keep this from them, it's not right."

"You're the one who wants Sunset to live long enough to understand what she's done! And, frankly, after hearing some of the things they're considering for her, I want to see her live, too."

This was again just the sort of decision Twilight was expected to make as a Princess. She just never had to make these decisions under such duress. She could only imagine what it had been like for Celestia during the time of Sombra or Discord's first appearance.

"All right, let me talk to Celestia," said Twilight. "Maybe she and Triss can accelerate their plans concerning Sunset. Meanwhile, keep working on trying to shore up the enchantment on the jar." Twilight turned to the others. "Conference adjourned."

"What about telling the humans?" Starlight called out as Twilight started out of the chamber.

"Stall them," Twilight said before heading out.





Starlight studied the cracked gem that had been presented to her by one of the FBI agents who worked under Anthony, who himself was absent from the conference. She levitated the gem closer for a better look. "So you said this was the only gem out of the ones I gave you that did this?"

"Yes," said the agent. "All the others glowed green when they were tapped. This one simply threw sparks and cracked."

Starlight turned the gem over. "Hmm. Probably just a bad crystal."

"So you don't think there's any significance to it?"

Starlight lowered the gem to the table. "I'd love to tell you that you don't have to worry about it, but where Sunset is concerned, anything is possible. The fact that all the others glowed green is encouraging."

"Naturally, we won't know the real numbers for a few days," said Sandra. "But by then, either Twilight casts her counterspell, or, well ..."

She trailed off, as several somber and subdued looks around the room showed that everyone was already well aware of the implications of a failure this late in the game. Stating the dire predictions yet again would do no one's morale any good. The President already had to issue an executive order stating that leaving one's position among the emergency zone staff was tantamount to treason just to stop the hemorrhaging of talent.

Starlight could sense the tension, and thus she decided to change the subject. "Any progress in getting the power back on?"

"Our allies abroad are sending over electrical engineers," said one of the agents. "We were hoping to have them pass through the emergency zone so you could check them for the transformation spell and counterspell them if needed."

Starlight repressed a sigh. It was one more thing that she didn't have time for. "Fine, I can do that."

"Mr. Heller also wished to know if any progress is being made on determining what is happening with Sunset's cutie mark."

"The enchantment containing her cutie mark is holding for now, and we're working on figuring out what's up with the portal and why it's not letting us take it through. That's all I really know. Soon as I know more, I'll share it."

Starlight had no idea if that satisfied them or not. They often reacted in the same stoic way no matter what they heard. Then again, she had no idea how convincing she was. While technically she had not lied, she had certainly withheld a truth.

The agent noted something on his tablet PC. "The Emergency Action Notification message did seem to reduce new incidents of violence and rioting, so we're hoping that will hold. Is Twilight still on time to deliver the counterspell by tomorrow?"

"It's all she's working on right now," said Starlight.

"That really doesn't answer the question."

Starlight sighed. "Yes, she still hopes to be done by tomorrow. This has never been done before, and it's proving to be tricky. I could go into an explanation of the challenges here, but that would take hours."

"No need," said the agent as he made another note.

"Glad to hear it," Starlight muttered.

"Starlight, you wanted to be kept aware of the proliferation of new cutie marks," said Sandra. "There have been fourteen more this morning across the emergency zone, but only one in the settlement where your friends are speaking to the transformed."

"What about Josie? Has anyone talked to her?"

Sandra consulted her notes. "Both Applejack and Rarity attempted to speak with her before she retired for the day, but she's being very reluctant to listen. Apparently the fact that her transformation brought an end to her night terrors has had a profound emotional impact on her. If that wasn't enough, it allegedly allows her to help other ponies do the same."

"Not allegedly," said Starlight. "Night ponies can really do that. That's why disorders like night terrors are almost nonexistent among Equestrian ponies."

Sandra looked up from her folder. "I'm sorry to be blunt about this, but if we can't get through to her and the other night ponies, what your friends are doing may be a drop in the bucket."

"Yeah, I know. Twilight has a backup plan. I think the phrase from your language that fits best is 'the nuclear option.'"

"Which would be?"

"Have Princess Luna talk some sense into them."

One of the agents gave her a concerned look. "But wasn't Twilight worried that would just give them another spiritual figure to rally around?"

"That would be if Princess Luna spoke to everyone," Starlight explained. "Twilight is hoping to limit the damage, so to speak. Yeah, there's still a risk that they'll project that image to other ponies, but right now we don't have a lot of options."

Sandra turned towards the agent. "I have to admit, I would have preferred that Mr. Heller be in attendance."

"He's very busy with a matter concerning national security."

Starlight raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing. She felt like that term was starting to be used like a convenient catch-all to mean "I don't want to give you any details right now." She was again glad she didn't have to do this diplomacy stuff full time.

"Very well," said Sandra in a crisp voice. Starlight hoped that meant she shared the same sentiment.

The agent stood, as did his cohorts. "We can adjourn for now. Mr. Heller will catch up with you separately for the latest ETS numbers, Doctor Marlowe."

Sandra merely nodded as the agents headed out.

Starlight took the cracked gem in her magic and hopped out of her chair. "I need to analyze this more so the FBI agents don't decide to classify it as a potential munition or something."

Just as she turned away, Sandra said in a tentative voice, "There is something I wanted to talk to you about. Well, originally I wanted to broach this with Twilight, but--"

Starlight turned around. "I know, I'm not the easiest pony to get along with."

"I didn't quite mean it that way."

"But I did," said Starlight. "In any case, what is it?"

Sandra glanced at the door of the conference room. "I want you to understand that this is strictly off the record."

That was the last thing Starlight ever expected to hear from Sandra. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

Sandra pushed her folders aside as if to distance herself from any official capacity. "When these humans were transformed, many of whatever chronic ailments they had were effectively cured. This includes even birth defects and cancer. When Twilight finds a way to change them back, it doesn't make any sense to give them back their maladies."

"That's pretty much a no-brainer," said Starlight.

"The idea that it is possible to cure people of previously incurable or difficult to cure diseases with magic has staggering implications for medicine," Sandra said.

"I haven't heard any talk about that."

"And you won't, not anything official, not with how suspicious the government is about magic right now, but I'm not the only physician thinking about this." Sandra lowered her voice. "Maybe I wouldn't be broaching this subject at all if Josie's case didn't hit so close to home. I have a little brother who went through pure torture with night terrors, and he was later diagnosed as schizophrenic. It hurts to see how little modern medicine can do for him."

"I take it he's avoided ETS?" Starlight asked.

"Yes, but once he started hearing about how it cured people of ailments like this, he actually wanted to be infected."

Starlight's eyes widened.

"Maybe Mr. Heller doesn't want to think about how that could contribute to the number of new ETS cases, but I can't imagine that my brother is the only one of that mindset." Sandra pulled one of her folders towards her. "In fact, we may already have proof. While most of those without obvious symptoms are reacting with aversion towards the transformed, a small segment of the population is willingly living among them. The evidence is only anecdotal at this point, but it appears many of them have incurable or debilitating conditions."

Starlight doubted that Twilight had considered this angle. Where she was already struggling with matters of consent of the transformed, this would be just another burden.

Sandra ran a hand through her hair. "In a way, I can't blame them. There are conditions that could leave a human in so much chronic pain that being transformed into another species would seem a small price to pay for relief."

"Where are you going with this?" Starlight asked, though she could guess.

"I'm trying to do as Kevin and Anthony are doing and look at the long term view," said Sandra. "It's obvious now that we're definitely going to have a permanent pony society on this planet, and it's already common knowledge that a genetically engineered virus caused this. And it's also becoming common knowledge that it makes you the picture of health, albeit as a small, colorful equine."

"I get it," said Starlight. "You're afraid that people will want this transformation spell as a cure-all."

"Which will only create more antagonism between ponies and humans. But if we could offer something similar outside of transformation--"

"I see where this is going." Starlight sighed. "All I can tell you is that Twilight fully intends to open formal diplomatic relations with your world, and she's adamant about educating humanity about magic so they won't be frightened of it. Beyond that, I have no idea what other exchanges there would be."

Sandra smiled faintly. "I just wanted to let you know what we were thinking. Again, this is all off the record. Officially, we never spoke about this."

Starlight wondered just how humans managed to keep separated in their heads all the things that they weren't supposed to say from those they could. She supposed they had a lot more practice at it. "When I mention this to Twilight, I'll do it discreetly."

"Thank you," said Sandra. "That's all I ask."





Star Singer sat alone in a small conference room, having been unexpectedly led there by humans referred to as "Secret Service." She had trouble understanding exactly what was so "secret" about them if everyone else around her seemed to know all about them. They were supposed to be escorting her back to her quarters after another consultation with the physicians monitoring Sunset's condition.

The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. She had been exposed to this world for only a few days, and already she yearned to return to Equestria. She had already made repeated requests to be allowed to visit her home via the portal, but all she had been told was that her request would be "taken under advisement." She started to wonder if that was some local euphemism for simply ignoring a request.

Star frowned. She felt like she had done all she could to help keep Sunset under control. The sedative was not going to get any better, and she had better things to do than to be reminded of that horrible unmarking spell. She wanted at least some time where she didn't have to share the same universe as Starlight Glimmer.

Finally, the door opened, and a human male entered whom Star had met only in passing. Fortunately, he didn't rely on her memory. "I am Anthony Heller," he said as he sat down. "I'm in charge of the criminal and government side of this operation."

"Yes, I've heard of you," said Star Singer. "Twilight mentioned you."

"I'll get right to the point," said Anthony. "We're facing a possible threat that Sunset will be reunited with her cutie mark--"

Star's eyes widened.

"--and what I need to know from you is this: will this allow her to break free from her induced unconscious state?"

Star was too stunned to reply at first. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that what Starlight did is reversible?"

"You do not know this?"

Star frowned. "Until I saw it for myself, I had no idea such a spell even existed!"

Anthony considered. "Then you have no knowledge of its limitations?"

"I don't know anything about it. How much plainer do I need to make that?"

Anthony laced his fingers together and leaned forward in his seat. "My understanding is that while Starlight can separate the cutie mark from its owner, she is unable to completely sever the bond."

Star had to admit to feeling a bit of satisfaction upon hearing this. Ripping away a cutie mark felt almost worse than dying. She had read of the accounts of Twilight and her friends when they were captives of Starlight, and it had sickened her.

"Thus the cutie mark needs to be actively contained, and we're facing a situation where the efficacy of that containment is in question," Anthony explained. "Which is why I wish to talk to you."

"What can I possibly do?" Star said, "I don't know anything about how cutie mark magic works except the basics that all ponies know. I wouldn't know how to stop her cutie mark from being returned to her."

"I realize this. I instead want to call upon your biological knowledge in hopes of coming up with a contingency plan."

Star Singer gave him a wary look. "What kind of plan?"

"We are at a very delicate phase in the operation to stop ETS," Anthony explained. "Any sort of disruption could doom it to failure. We cannot allow Sunset to awaken with her full power restored."

"I've done the best I can to create a sedative that combines your chemicals with magic to keep her under."

"But will it withstand her regaining her full powers?"

Star hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe."

"And therein lies the problem," said Anthony. "We can't afford a 'maybe' at this point."

Star's heart pounded. "What are you talking about?"

Anthony hesitated for a long moment, his face troubled. His fingers laced more tightly together. "I want to preface this by saying that I don't like what I'm about to suggest. As I told Twilight when we first planned Operation Red Dusk, I don't like these sort of last resort plans."

Star swallowed hard.

"But if Sunset regains her full powers, we have no means to stop her if she's allowed to awaken."

"I can't make the sedative any stronger without killing her!" Star declared.

"I know, but can something be made that will kill her quickly enough before she can stop it?"

Star's stomach twisted. "Why are you asking me this? You have weapons that can kill someone in an instant. Just ... j-just point one of those at her and pull the damn trigger! That's what you were trying to do to her anyway when you first planned everything with Twilight."

Star felt sick that she was even contemplating means to end Sunset's life. While she agreed that Sunset had been wrong, she found it difficult to go against her culturally-ingrained notions of non-violence, not to mention they were talking about a pony who was once her friend.

"We're considering the worst case scenario, where she regains consciousness instantly and is able to shield against our weapons."

"She could pull her IV out at the same time," Star said.

"We realize that. What we're asking for is: can something be devised that has a delayed reaction? Something we can feed her now and lies dormant until she awakens, and only then does it act on her?"

Star paled.

"Ideally, something that can be reversed or purged later if containment is--"

"Stop skirting around it!" Star yelled. "You're asking me to figure out a means to poison her!"

"Yes."

Star was too stunned to speak.

"We realize what we're asking of you."

"I don't think you do!" Star Singer exclaimed. "Maybe Equestria is not the utopia that Sunset planned to create on Earth, but we don't go around devising new and inventive ways to kill one another!"

"Miss Singer--"

"And what makes you think I can even do something like that?"

"We are growing increasingly aware of the capabilities of magic," said Anthony. "One of the Secret Service agents providing security for the experimental pony settlement overheard a conversation between Starlight and one of the transformed that suggested time travel is possible with magic but is not done for ethical considerations."

Star simply stared.

"So naturally we are led to speculate if something far less complex like I had suggested can be done."

Star had no idea if such a thing was within her capabilities simply because she had never come close to ever speculating that her knowledge could be put to such ends. Yet now as she forced her thoughts down that unsavory path, she could see possibilities leaping out at her with cruel clarity. "And what if I could do this and simply refuse?" Star said in a quavering voice. "What are you going to do to me? Threaten me? Imprison me? Kill me?!"

"No," Anthony said simply.

Star opened her mouth, but no words would come to her.

"Nothing will happen to you. No harm will come to you. If you wish to no longer assist us, you will be allowed to return to Equestria." Anthony leaned back in his seat. "I am truly sorry if you have the impression that we would use extreme measures to pressure you into compliance. Perhaps humanity is not up to your world's level of cooperation and friendship in that we're still capable of thinking of the worst we can possibly do to one another, but that doesn't mean we have to follow through."

"And yet if I did comply, you'd gladly let me do it," Star said in a neutral voice.

"Yes, we would," said Anthony. "Without hesitation. The survival of our species could depend on it."

Star swallowed hard as she realized just how much of a hold Sunset's ideas still had on her. She was about ready to agree with Sunset that this species needed help to elevate them further from their barbarous past, that perhaps Star had been wrong to side with Twilight.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hoof to her fore-head, wishing she had never met Sunset in the first place. This felt like the ultimate betrayal; Sunset had made Star question her own thoughts, as if she were somehow brainwashed the same way that the humans considered the transformed to be.

Star took a deep breath and lowered her hoof. No, she had done this to herself. Perhaps Sunset could be blamed for taking advantage of a vulnerable mare, but then again, perhaps she had thought she had found a kindred spirit.

She had; that was what made this all the more painful. On a deeper level, Star still pined for Sunset's approach towards solving the basic problem of ponykind's long term survival.

"I can't do this," Star said in a shaky voice as she lowered her head.

Anthony nodded once. "I understand."

Star wanted to protest that he didn't understand, not in the least. It had nothing to do with her moral convictions. In the end, she couldn't trust herself to commit to the ultimate means to stop Sunset. Up until this point, it had all been up to others; her role was one merely of support. This would mean stopping Sunset directly and irrevocably.

Anthony stood. "Thank you for your candor, Miss Singer. I'll inform my superiors of your decision."

Star didn't even look up as he headed out of the room.





Starlight considered teleporting back to the lab, but she did not have the enormous energy reserves of her alicorn friend Twilight. A ride by human transport took only five minutes, and it gave her more time to study the cracked gem.

And the more she studied it, the more wary she became.

What she had assumed to be a flaw in the crystal lattice was indeed present, but now it no longer appeared to be the direct cause of the gem's failure. Her theory had been that the initial surge of magic when the humans activated the spell had fractured the gem, but now it appeared that the spell had actually executed. The flaw would have caused the spell to resonate at the wrong frequency, like an incorrectly tuned radio transmitter. What should have happened was the gem flashing red to indicate a failure to attain the status of the transformation spells around it.

When she arrived at the lab, the soldiers guarding the jar parted and returned to the periphery of the room. Starlight immediately stepped up to it and frowned as she studied it with her magical senses, the gem still held aloft.

"Any change in status, ma'am?" asked the commander of the lab's security detail.

Sunset's cutie mark danced about inside the jar, its strikes against the sides deceptively quiet. Starlight could see the ripples they made in the magic of the enchantment upon the glass. She tried again to cast a spell to shore it up, but it again had little effect. At the rate that the enchantment was deteriorating, it would be at least another day before it would be a serious threat. While maintaining containment on Sunset's cutie mark was her top priority, she felt things were under control enough to allow her to research what happened to the gem.

"Not at the moment," Starlight finally replied as she turned away from the jar.

Starlight brought the gem to a workbench and placed it upon a small pedestal of enchanted marble. Twilight had instructed her on how to use this device, which was supposed to examine the thaumic matrix of the artifact placed upon it. The gem was soon bathed in purple light, and runes glowed in the air above it.

Starlight frowned. It hadn't been the outgoing magic that had caused the gem to fracture, but the incoming magic from the transformation spells. The detector spell worked a bit like the humans' radar, in that it sent out a crafted thaumic pulse and listened for the "echo" that returned. Except in this case what happened would be the equivalent of a returning radar echo shorting out the radar itself.

She turned away from the gem and towards her notes on Sunset's transformation spell. Despite all the work that she and Twilight had put into unraveling it, their research was incomplete. They knew enough about how the transformation was initiated and how it progressed, as well as how the basic mechanics of modifying the morphic resonance worked. Only some of what was considered more mundane spell infrastructure was believed left to discover. A complete analysis would have taken a few additional days; they had time to learn in detail only enough to know how to stop it.

They had hoped to find notes on Sunset's research along with her other possessions, but either she kept those at a separate location or kept everything in her head as the ultimate defense against someone else learning how her spell worked.

She turned to the page that detailed how the sensing rune worked, which had been the target of the original thaumic pulse. She traced the connections from that rune to the others which initiated the transformation, a part she had been sure had been completely researched. There were connections to incompletely researched sections of the spell, but those were again just normal spell support and infrastructure.

Starlight raised an eyebrow. She turned back to the cracked gem and examined it again, and both eyebrows rose. Each section of the transformation spell governing the change itself started with an initiator rune. The crack in the gem had changed the frequency of its pulse to be aligned more with the initiator rather than the sensing rune, but not exactly. It still wasn't enough of an alignment to account for the feedback.

Starlight returned to the transformation spell. Other connections branched from the initiator runes to parts unknown. That had not concerned them. Like many human-designed engines, spells required the equivalent of an "ignition". For example, a levitation spell had a tactile rune to sense the object to move, a binding rune to grasp it, a spatial rune to move it, and an "ignition" rune that tied into the part of the unicorn's brain responsible for three-dimensional processing.

The feedback could have been caused by hitting an ignition rune, but they were generally buried too deeply in the spell matrix to be as easily accessible. To see one at a more shallow level would be shoddy spell work, and Sunset was far to skilled to make such a basic mistake. So the pulse from the gems may have come through the initiators, traveled back through the spell matrix, and hit something else that bounced back with such force as to fracture the gem. But what could be strong enough to cause that?

Starlight looked around the lab and sighed. The one thing she needed to examine to figure this out was the one thing she didn't have: Sunset's original device. The humans had classified it as an extreme biohazard despite all assurances that it was now quiescent, and thus had been placed at a separate facility.

She approached the commander. "I need you to get a message to Mr. Heller at once."





Starlight found herself again in a conference room. She was beginning to hate these places, as it meant more talking and less action. She always thought Twilight had an insane focus on organization, but when it came to meetings, the humans rivaled even her.

"Yes, I could certainly authorize you to examine the device," said Anthony. He turned in his chair. "Doctor Marlowe? Can you please explain the issue?"

Starlight frowned. "What issue? My request is fairly straightforward. I'm not even going to remove it from whatever containment you have it in."

"The problem is one of decontamination when you're done," said Sandra. "That could take several hours."

Starlight stared. "Decontamination? From what?"

"From whatever new virus that device decides to send out," said Anthony.

Starlight face-hoofed. "What difference does that make? It's not the virus that's the problem, it's the transformation spell tied to it. There's only one transformation spell in the thaumic matrix of that artifact. Twilight verified that herself, and you trusted her analysis. At least I thought you had."

"We do trust that," said Sandra. "But we can't take the chance that it might send out a new virus that has other unintended consequences."

"Why would it do that in the first place?"

Anthony folded his hands. "Starlight, are you familiar with terms such as 'fail safe' or 'fail deadly?'"

Starlight sighed. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"They refer to ways that our weapon systems work. 'Fail safe' is generally used for situations in which we want uncertainty to ensure that the weapon does not go off. 'Fail deadly' is for situations where we absolutely want it to go off."

"Let me guess," Starlight said sourly. "It's usually applied when talking about nuclear weapons."

"Be that as it may, it's an important military strategy, and we have to assume that Sunset might be thinking in those terms. If somehow the device senses that its original attack is failing, it may have a fail deadly protocol."

Starlight took a deep breath. She had to be more like Twilight and try to accommodate them somehow. "Okay, fine, let's go with that. Why would it take hours to decontaminate me?"

"Mostly because our techniques don't rely on magic," said Sandra. "And the fact that you have fur and much more hair than a human would."

"With Twilight indisposed so she can focus on delivering the counterspell, we don't want you unavailable for that length of time," said Anthony. "What about examining a patient who has the spell?"

"I may need to poke and prod at the spell a bit," said Starlight. "I don't want to do that on a live person."

"Starlight, couldn't you just let the technicians manipulate the device for you with the robotic arms?" Sandra asked.

Starlight blinked. "Er, what?"

"The personnel assigned to it can use mechanical arms to grasp and manipulate the object and bring it close to the window for detailed measurements and observation. You'd be as close as a foot or so from it."

Starlight's eyes widened, and she threw up her fore-hooves. "Why the hell didn't you say so in the first place?! I thought you had done something like placed it behind multiple layers of lead where I couldn't see it."

"That would be for radioactive sources," said Anthony.

"And Twilight did say that magic passes easily through our materials," said Sandra.

"Yes, but Twilight has the ginormous knowledge of how things work on this planet that I don't," Starlight declared. "Okay, fine, let's go."





The facility where the artifact was being kept was not quite what she expected. When they had told her that mechanical arms would be used, she had expected to see the equivalent of disembodied human arms complete with elbow, hand, four fingers, and a thumb. Instead, the manipulator was more streamlined and obviously mechanic, with only two padded "fingers" that opened and closed, but the humans operating them had very fine control over them. She was impressed.

This also saved her from having to levitate the object herself. She could instead concentrate all her magic on the device itself.

She had been asked to first verify that Twilight's analysis had been correct, that no other active spells resided in the device. There had been some anti-tampering spells when Twilight first discovered it, but they had been stripped away. The device did not have its own power source. Instead, it had a gemstone at its center suitable for a unicorn to link her magic into it with a simple spell, thus Sunset had obviously intended to power the device herself, probably during one of her visits to Fred Turner disguised as the little girl.

That, Starlight surmised, had been the "fail safe" part; the device simply would not activate on its own. It had also allowed Sunset to take it through the portal in the first place.

Starlight peered past the device and spotted a wide, low, covered vat in the background. She jabbed a hoof towards it. "What's that?"

"Hydrofluoric acid," said the technician manipulating the arm.

"Uhh, which is?"

"A highly corrosive substance. If we determine that there is a danger of the device compromising its biological isolation, we have orders to drop it in there in an attempt to destroy it."

"It's a precaution only," said Anthony who stood behind Starlight along with Sandra.

Starlight refrained from saying that she doubted it would work against magical metals and crystals.

"I should note that this also includes anything happening as a result of your investigations," said Sandra. "A whole team of technicians are monitoring the environment in and around the isolation chamber."

Starlight nodded and turned her attention to the device. "Well, all right, here goes."

Her horn glowed, and the device glowed softly as well. She closed her eyes to concentrate better as she extended her magical senses into the device. She was not as good at examining a thaumic matrix directly like this. Starlight was still someone who tended to approach magic by feel rather than equations.

As she had feared, she was out of her element here. She didn't have the skill to sense the delicate connections between the runes. She could sense the structure at a higher level, but she was unable to delve any deeper into that. She had to take a more brute force approach.

She crafted a pulse similar to what had originally been imbued upon the gems and directed it at the spell. She received the response she expected, which told her that the sensing rune was disabled. Apparently the thaumic pulse had affected the original copy of the spell as well.

She then crafted a second pulse, this time at the frequency emitted by the faulty gem. She flinched when her horn resonated with a similar pulse shot back at her, amplified by several times. That had been a response from only one spell, and the gem would have been bombarded by thousands. It never had a chance.

Her audience must have seen her flinch, as Sandra asked, "Did you find something?"

"Give me a minute," said Starlight.

Starlight repeated the experiment and got the same result. She tried to trace back the flow of energy and raised an eyebrow. A critical part of the spell was the timing mechanism which controlled the rate of the transformation. It tied into the sensing rune, which explained how later transformations went faster as the pool of available magic increased. The amplified pulse was coming from that part of the spell.

Starlight opened her eyes as the glow of her horn faded. "There's some sort of odd feedback loop in the spell. I'm not sure what it means yet."

"Is it something we need to worry about?" Anthony asked.

"Again, I don't know. All I know is that magic of a particular resonance is triggering it."

"What about what Twilight is planning?" Sandra asked. "Could it--?"

"No," Starlight said firmly. "Totally different magic. It could be nothing, but I need to head back to the lab to do some more research."

"Should we destroy the artifact as a precaution?" the technician asked.

"That won't do any good. This just contains the original copy of the spell plus the magic to create the modified virus, and the latter is already spent. This device is not useful even to Sunset anymore."

"I would just as soon you return to the lab," said Anthony. "While you were focused on the device, I received a call. The unusual motion of Sunset's cutie mark has grown noticeably worse."

Starlight's eyes widened. "It has? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You had assured us that there was no immediate danger."

Starlight's heart raced. "Yeah, well, let me go back and make sure that's still the case."

"We have your car ready."

"I'll make my own way this time," said Starlight. Her horn flashed, and in an instant, she was back in the lab to the surprised looks of the soldiers. "It's just me! Don't freak out!" Starlight cried when she saw more than one weapon rise towards her.

"Apologies, ma'am, but we hadn't expected you to teleport in," said the commander. He nodded towards the jar. "But perhaps it was best you did."

Starlight turned towards the pedestal. Sunset's cutie mark danced about so violently that had it any true physical substance, it would have already knocked the jar to the floor. Obviously the soldiers had thought this a possibility, as they had since installed heavy straps around the jar securing it more firmly to the pedestal.

Starlight's horn glowed, and the jar lit up in her magical senses. The cutie mark had battered the enchantment holding it until it looked like the thaumic equivalent of Swiss cheese, and more holes were opening as she stared.

"Shit," Starlight muttered. "Shit shit SHIT!"

Her horn blazed, and she strained as she poured her magic into the glass of the jar. She clenched her teeth as she watched the holes slowly start to close, only to grunt in frustration when they widened again.

Panting lightly from the effort, Starlight shut off her magic. "It's another damn feedback loop. It's just using my magic to ..." She gasped. "That's it! That's what I hit in Sunset's transformation spell. She has a spell accelerator loop in it. With the right trigger, it will hugely speed up the rate of transformation to--"

Her thought was drowned out by the shout of the commander and the scrambling of his men. Starlight could only watch as Sunset's cutie mark burst out of its confinement and flew towards a wall. Starlight flattened first her ears and then herself to the floor when gunfire exploded around her as soldiers took shots at the cutie mark just before it vanished through the concrete.

"Commander, I swear, I shot right at that fucker and the bullets went right through!" a soldier cried.

"I could've told you that wouldn't work!" Starlight shouted as she stood.

"Belay all that!" the commander barked as he raised his phone. "This is the lab. The sun is up. Repeat: the sun is up."





Anthony relied mostly on instinct when he felt time was critical. A complete analysis of the situation when seconds mattered was often not feasible. He took Starlight's abrupt departure to mean that something was about to go wrong, and he was already on the phone even before pandemonium had broken out at the lab.

"Get the soldiers inside Sunset's room," he said into his cell phone.

"Yessir," said the army commander at the other end of the line. "Is there an emergency?"

"There may be, I don't know yet. I just don't want us caught with our pants down."

"I'll need authorization to make the change in procedure permanent, sir."

"I'll get that damn authorization," said Anthony. "In the meantime, do as I say."

"Yessir."

Anthony lowered the phone and ran a hand through his hair as he let out a long sigh.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Sandra asked in an anxious voice.

"I just have this bad feeling that I haven't been told something crucial. Starlight's been hiding something ever since she came back from consulting with Twilight."

"Both Twilight and Starlight have been up front with us about everything so far," said Sandra. "I don't see any reason to doubt them now."

"I realize that, Doctor Marlowe, but Twilight is effectively a diplomat, and all diplomats have their secrets. I have to assume she has hers, and Starlight is taking her marching orders from Twilight."

Sandra frowned. "With all due respect, Mr. Heller, I doubt they'd stoop to petty political maneuvering."

"I never said they would," said Anthony. "They come from a decidedly non-violent society. Twilight is very careful not to come out and admit it, but Starlight and Star Singer are far more vocal about it: they don't want to see physical harm come to Sunset Shimmer despite all that she's done. It has nothing to do with not wanting to see her come to justice, but it's plainly obvious they're not capable of doing what needs to be done if worst comes to worst."

"And you are?" Sandra asked.

"Yes," Anthony declared. "That doesn't mean I like it or--"

His phone rang. He lifted it to his face, and before he could speak, a voice said, "The sun is up."

Anthony's stomach became a cold pit that twisted upon itself, but he didn't hesitate in his duty. "Acknowledged. Terminate Sunset Shimmer."





As Twilight had noted on several occasions, humans could be paragons of efficiency, but it worked only so far against magic. By the time the termination order had come in, the soldiers ordered into Sunset's hospital room had only just entered formation, and the civilian physicians had not yet been cleared from the room.

"GET DOWN GET DOWN GET DOWN!" the commander shouted, and the startled physicians took a few crucial seconds to break out of their shock and drop to the floor.

During those seconds, Sunset's cutie mark burst through the wall and one of the soldiers. It caused him no harm, but raised another moment of unexpected alarm. Not all weapons had come to bear when the mark affixed itself to Sunset's haunches in a burst of light that disrupted the soldiers' aim.

The first volley was like thunder in the confines of the room. A bullet grazed Sunset's barrel, another tore through a fore-leg, and the third ripped a charred hole in the bedsheets only a inch from her heart.

The next volleys were aimed true. Bright sparks flew where they met magic.

Sunset's eyes flew open, and the shield abruptly expanded, slamming the soldiers against the walls. One was knocked out cold, another dazed, but the third recovered, and his weapon rattled away to more flashes of light.

Sunset jumped off the bed, only to have her left fore-leg almost collapse. Grimacing in pain, she lifted it off the floor, blood still streaming from the wound, and more blood trickled from her side. She narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth, and the soldier yelped when the gun he was holding suddenly became a prickly cactus.

As she shaped her shield to push the remaining soldiers towards the door and out of the room as well as keep the physicians pinned to the floor, she levitated some bandages and wrapped them tight around her fore-leg, then cast a disinfection spell. By the time a much larger contingent of soldiers thundered towards the room, her horn flashed, and she vanished.





"You should all be getting the hell out of here!" Starlight yelled at the commander. "It's only going to take seconds for Sunset to be reunited with her cutie mark. This is the place she'll most likely come."

"That's exactly why we intend to stay here, ma'am," the commander said, he and the other soldiers already on alert with their weapons ready. "We're assigned to protect this lab and—"

"It doesn't need your protection! There's nothing here that's so valuable we can't replace. Even all this research on the transformation spell are copies. The originals are in Equestria."

"There's the portal, ma'am."

Starlight frowned. "She's not going to be stupid enough to damage it, and Twilight has already altered it so only she and I can control it. It will lock Sunset right out."

"Ma'am, a termination order has been issued for Sunset Shimmer."

Starlight's mouth dropped open, and her pupils shrank.

"So if they don't do the job at the hospital, then it's up to us to finish it."

For a moment, Starlight was speechless. She had known that the humans would likely resort to that sort of end were Sunset tried and convicted, but to do it now?

"I don't ... how can ... a-all right, never mind," Starlight finally sputtered. "Someone needs to get a message to my other friends who came through the portal. Let them know that Sunset Shimmer may have—"

A flash of light briefly turned the walls of the basement white.

"--escaped." Starlight blinked. Her horn blazed. "Fuck."

The expletive had barely made it to her lips when the soldiers opened up with the thunder of weapons fire. A split-second later, a brilliant beam of magic erupted from Starlight's horn. All converged on Sunset Shimmer, causing her shield to flash and flicker. She narrowed her eyes, and the bright glow of her horn flashed. A wave of magical energy radiated out from her shield, and Starlight gasped, halting her attack barely in time to defend against it.

The soldiers had no such defense, their weapons falling from their hands as they slumped to the floor in a deep sleep.

Starlight swallowed hard. At once she knew she was out of her league. She had no alicorn friend to drain Sunset's prodigious energy. She shored up her shield, spun around, and galloped hard towards the portal.

Sunset's next spell burned through the shield, and Starlight froze in mid-step. She fought against the freeze spell to no avail. All her muscles could do were strain against the powerful magic that held her as rigid as a statue save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"You're not going anywhere, you little bitch," Sunset said.

Starlight's heart hammered. "I wouldn't think if it," she said in a quavering voice when she discovered she could still move her mouth.

Sunset came around to face her, hobbling slightly as she kept her injured leg aloft. "Twilight was very clever to make sure I never knew about you, or your little unmarking spell. Don't think you're going to get away with that again anytime soon."

"If you think you can just pick up where you left off, you're – mmph!"

Starlight's words were halted when the freeze spell was extended to her mouth and jaw.

"I'm not stupid," said Sunset. "But I can already sense how far the transformation has gone. Maybe I won't get everything I wanted, but I can sure as hell get a good chunk of it. And I know exactly how I can accomplish that."

Starlight knew as well. The transformation spell had a fail deadly after all, even if "deadly" had a different interpretation here.

Sunset stepped closer. "Despite analyzing your unmarking spell, I don't have a defense against it yet, only contingencies. So you're coming on a little trip with me so I don't have to be looking over my shoulder all the time."

Sunset's horn flashed, and the two vanished from the lab in a pop of imploding air.
> Chapter 51 - Painful Truth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As excited as she was about gaining her cutie mark, Laura remained in the skies above the new settlement -- which she realized would need a formal name at some point -- to ensure the storm stayed where it was supposed to be and did not provide more rain than needed. Eventually, she and the other pegasi had to break up the remains of the storm, which she had to explain to the others took a different technique than creating it had.

Her teammates had always looked to her as a sort of leader, but now it appeared she commanded a whole new level of respect. Her cutie mark was both a source of fascination and a symbol of achievement. She heard many whispered speculation as to what their cutie marks might look like.

Yet she also heard expressions of doubt and confusion, as if seeing Laura gain her mark had been a source of concern rather than joy. It didn't take her long to discover that many of them had either spoken to the alien ponies directly, or had a conversation with those who had.

Laura had to admit that this soured her view of them a bit despite their friendliness. Many of these ponies were well on their way to being like her, finding both happiness and a fulfilling purpose. Why muddy the waters and make them start to doubt themselves?

Nevertheless, she held her tongue. It wasn't her place to question their life goals. They had to come into their cutie marks on their own.

She had tried not to let the conversation with Jenny get to her, but that was harder now that she was done with her task and had to return to her family. Her eyes glistened as she recalled the inevitable conclusion she had come to before leading the effort to create the rain: that Sunny had outright lied to her about her origins and her intentions.

Laura glanced at her cutie mark. How could she not be proud of it? Hadn't she earned this for herself? Was this what Starlight had referred to when she implied there was no going back? Why would she want to go back?

Laura shuddered as she looked back towards the settlement. According to Starlight, she had been programmed to think this way. She had thought gaining her cutie mark would silence all debate, and for the most part, it did; she had a wonderful talent she loved, and nopony -- or human -- was going to take that away from her. Yet she still had questions that needed answering.

When the remaining clouds had ceased dropping rain and appeared that they would dissipate on their own, she led the charge back to the ground to the cheers of the other ponies as fresh water flowed through the formerly dry stream bed. Some unicorns and earth ponies had to adjust its path in a few areas, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. The stream stayed well within its banks the whole way.

Laura smiled. It was cooperation on a scale she had never witnessed before. There had to be at least a thousand ponies in the community, pretty much the whole town of Lazy Pines. Before, they all led separate lives, coming together in small but only occasional groups. Now they worked as one towards a common goal, and she was proud to be part of it. She felt a sense of belonging that had eluded her for so long.

She spotted her family, and she was given pause as her eyes fell on Jenny. This is all her fault. That was what Jenny had said concerning Sunny's involvement in Laura's life. Yet what could really be proven? Sunny wasn't exactly here to defend herself.

She took a deep breath and flew to the ground, landing with a sharp clop of hooves near her mother, and she realized she had no idea what to say. Instead, she simply gave her family a small smile and turned herself so they could see her haunches.

Laura was suddenly drawn into a hug so tight that it almost squeezed the air out of her, and that alone was enough to tell her who had reacted first.

"I'm so very proud of you," said Harold in a shaky voice heavy with emotion.

Laura hugged him back, both surprised and relieved at his show of support. When he eased off, her eyes fell on her mother. Sarah looked back with glistening eyes that betrayed a faint underlying hint of bittersweet, as if she knew something that Laura did not. Before Laura could call her out on it, Sarah smiled and surged forward, hugging her daughter almost as fiercely as her father had.

"As long as this is what you really want," Sarah whispered in a voice so soft that Laura was sure she was the only one who had heard it.

"Of course it is, Mom," Laura replied. "I've wanted this from the moment I knew I could fly."

Sarah hugged her a little tighter before drawing back, tears in her eyes, but a smile upon her muzzle.

Bob offered more subdued congratulations, but he did come and hug her without being prompted, something he would never have done as a human. Laura was again reminded how much better her family was now, and how much closer they were. Yet now her eyes fell on Jenny. She stood not far away, looking uncertain.

Harold looked towards her. "Is something wrong, Jenny? Don't you want to congratulate your sister?"

"Well, yeah," Jenny said. "I just ... um ..."

"It's okay," said Laura as she stepped up to her sister. "I'm sorry for the argument we had earlier."

"What argument?" Harold said with some concern.

Laura glanced at the rest of her family before saying to Jenny, "You didn't tell them?"

Jenny hesitated. "I told Mom about it."

"How much did you tell her?"

"Pretty much everything."

"Is this something I should know about?" Harold asked, though his tone implied that he assumed the answer was "yes."

"I'll talk to you about it later," Sarah said in a low voice. "This isn't really the time for it."

Laura understood her mother's reaction better. Jenny had likely cast doubt in Sarah's mind as well. "I just want everypony to know, I earned this myself. Nopony gave it to me."

"Why would we think otherwise?" Harold said in confusion.

"Yes, you did," Sarah said. "Maybe ... maybe the circumstances were arranged, but in the end, you're doing what you want to do."

Laura heard the doubt in her mother's voice and could see it on her face, but she could still tell that Sarah was proud of her. She held onto that; her declaration that she had earned her cutie mark herself had been for her own benefit as well as her family.

"I've already been asking questions about everything that's happened," said Bob. "Despite whatever the answers may be, the fact remains that we have to operate in this new framework, and we have to find a way to make the best of it. I think you already have, Laura."

Laura slowly smiled. Some things never changed, and that included Bob's tendency to examine everything with an overly-logical lens. She was just glad he had managed to make room for her feelings.

She turned back to Jenny. "I'm not ignoring everything you told me, but you have to understand something." She pointed a wing to her cutie mark. "This makes me happy, and nothing you can say will change that."

Jenny slowly smiled, and she gave her sister a hug.

Laura wanted to believe that Jenny's sentiment was genuine and not just an attempt to placate her sister. Laura had the uneasy feeling that there was still a lot left unspoken, and that Jenny was doing this for the sake of avoiding disrupting the moment. Laura couldn't help but feel a little proud of her sister. Had this been just a few weeks ago, Jenny would have had no qualms about being as disruptive as she wanted, heedless of what anypony else felt. In that, Jenny had matured significantly.

Laura turned to her mother. "Have you seen Doctor Conner recently, Mom?"

Sarah pointed a fore-hoof. "I saw him not ten minutes ago that way. Why?"

"He's always been so worried about us. I thought I'd show him my cutie mark."

"All right, but don't take too long," said Sarah. "It's almost dusk, and we should think about having some dinner soon."

Laura extended her wings. "I won't be long, I promise!"

She took off in the direction Sarah had indicated, and it wasn't long before she was joined by Emma and Joan. When Laura told them where she was going, they asked if they could tag along.

"Of course!" Laura said, smiling. By now, she considered Emma and Joan to be not just her friends but her wingmates as well, almost like a second family. She had a feeling she would be spending almost as much time with them as she did her blood relatives.

"I think that's him up ahead," said Joan.

Laura had already spotted him. Next to him stood a suited man whom she had earlier overheard referred to as "Mr. Heller." Similarly dressed men stood around them, as well as Secret Service and a few army soldiers. Before them were the alien ponies, save for Starlight. There appeared to be an animated discussion going on, with the ponies looking distressed and anxious.

Emma's ears rose and swiveled forward. "Something's up."

Laura's ears had done the same, just in time to hear Applejack stomp the ground and say. "We gotta go get Twilight right now before we start lookin' fer her!"

Laura remembered how the soldiers had reacted when she and her friends had first shown up unexpectedly, and she signaled her friends to stop and land at what she hoped was a safe distance away.

"We have no idea where Sunset has gone," said Mr. Heller.

Laura's eyes widened. Sunny was free?

"She can't have gone very far," said Rarity. "Twilight told us that teleportation has inherent distance limitations."

"And she hasta know where she's goin'," said Applejack.

"If only we had Rainbow Dash here," said Fluttershy. "She could find Sunset really fast."

"Let's get ta Twilight first," said Applejack. "Then we can--"

The rest of her statement was drowned out by the soldier who now stepped before the trio of pegasi. "I'll have to ask you to step back, and no flying over this area."

"All right," said Laura as she turned away. She hovered long enough to lead the others a safe distance away, which took them out of earshot.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Joan asked.

Laura stared at the alien ponies. After exchanging a few more words with the humans, they dashed off towards a waiting military vehicle.

She thought back to her conversations with Sunny, about how much Sunny said she liked living in Colorado, and the activities she claimed to have done since she had settled in Lazy Pines. More lies to round out her background, or genuine affection for things she had really done?

"Laura?" Emma prompted.

Laura turned to them. "Do me a favor and go tell my parents that I might be a little late for dinner. I have something I need to do."

"Is it something we can help with?"

As much as she craved being with her friends, Laura shook her head. "I have to do this alone. I'll explain later."

Laura took one last look at the departing alien ponies before launching herself into the waning sunlight.





Sarah uttered a small, nervous sigh as she looked off towards the west, where the mountains were surrounded by a hazy orange glow as the sun set behind them. Towards the east, the last rays of ruddy sunlight had already faded from the remnants of the clouds that her daughter and her friends had created earlier.

She caught a flare of light out of the corner of her eye, and her ears swiveled towards a distinct crackling noise. She turned her head to see a campfire flicker to life, having been carefully created within a ring of stones. She smiled faintly, as it reminded her of when she had taken her family in times past to camps created near the site of digs when she worked into the early evening hours compiling notes.

She heard a buzzing sound, and she glanced towards what looked like yet another drone aircraft circling in the distance. That had been the fifth one she had seen in the last hour. At first she had assumed they were launched by the emergency zone staff to keep an eye on the settlement, but they had soon scattered beyond it.

Harold turned from the fire and trotted over to her. "You okay?"

Sarah sighed. "I'm worried about Laura. Where is she?"

"Emma and Joan had stopped by to say she needed to do something and would be late."

"Yes, but what? The storm she created broke up over an hour ago. And what's with all this drone activity?"

Harold looked around. "I'm a little worried about her as well, but she's shown she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

Sarah looked towards the campfire, where other ponies had started to gather, including Jenny and her coltfriend James. "Where's Bob?"

No sooner had she spoken when she heard hoofsteps cantering towards them. She turned to see Bob approaching, his horn glowing, something small held aloft in his magical grip. "I'm here!" he called out as he skidded to a stop. "Sorry, but I had spotted something earlier today when I was helping Kelly look for more rocks and wanted to go back and check it."

Sarah looked towards him curiously as he presented what appeared to be a small shard of dusty brown material. "What is this?"

Bob smiled. "Take it."

Sarah's horn glowed as she wrapped her magic around it, and at once she uttered a small gasp. Just touching it in this way immediately gave her more information than fingers and eyes alone had while she was human. She could already sense it was a shard of pottery, and the only question that remained was how old it was. Yet as Bob's magic withdrew, and her own acted unimpeded, she already knew it was old enough to predate any of the current settlements in the area.

Sarah's eyes glistened as she brought it closer to the light of the fire. "When we first moved to Lazy Pines, I had found some records at town hall that said this valley may have been a waypoint for some of the Native American tribes in the area just before the European settlers came, but it was considered just some old tales. Nopony had any proof." She looked at Bob. "Where did you find this?"

"It'll be easier for me to show you, but it might be better to wait until morning," said Bob.

Sarah stared at the shard, turning it over in her magic as easily as she might have with her fingers as a human. Only then had she become truly aware of the ache that had settled in her heart at the idea of leaving a field she had dedicated her life to.

When the still all-too-familiar wonder of discovery came over her, she realized Twilight had been only partially right. It wasn't a case of finding her own destiny so much as it was accepting the destiny she had already made for herself. Why else could she so easily see how her levitation spell could be adapted and expanded for the work she had already poured her life into?

For Laura, it had been finding her purpose; for Sarah, it had been accepting it.

Yet before the same sense of assuredness could come over her that had happened to her daughter earlier that day, her thoughts were interrupted when a phalanx of FBI agents led by Anthony Heller approached her.

Harold frowned. "What's going on now?"

Sarah lowered the shard, her heart skipping a beat as the campfire revealed his serious face. "Doctor Tanner, we need to take you and your family into protective custody immediately."

Sarah's eyes widened. "What? Why?!"

"Sunset Shimmer has escaped."

Sarah swallowed hard. She glanced over to the side where an FBI agent was shepherding Jenny over to them. Other ponies were looking towards them with concerned looks, but other agents were forming a ring around the Tanners as if to isolate them.

"And we believe your daughter Laura is looking for her," said Anthony. "Given Sunset's previous relationship with your family, we want to ensure your safety and--"

"What about my daughter's safety?!" Sarah exploded.

"Are you actually looking for her?" Harold demanded.

"We actually know exactly where Laura is," said Anthony. "A drone has been tracking her as soon as she left the settlement."

"Tracking her? How about telling her to get the hell back here?"

"I am sincerely sorry, but we can't do that. Where Sunset is capable of hiding herself from human senses, we can't take any chances. We're hoping Laura will lead us to her."

"Stop using our daughter as a pawn!" Sarah screamed, her eyes tearing. "I don't want her to have any part of this anymore!"

Anthony gave her a pained look that she wanted to believe was genuine as he said, "I'm sorry, Doctor Tanner, but this is out of my hands. Sunset Shimmer is considered the greatest threat this planet has ever faced, and we have to do everything in our power now to bring her down."

Sarah whimpered and lowered herself to the ground, the shard falling to the side, forgotten.





Laura pressed on her search despite the failing light. She ignored the spectacular array of reds and oranges that stretched out along the horizon above the mountains to her west. Instead, her gaze occasionally flicked to the encroaching velvet blue twilight from the east. Her larger eyes had given her the ability to see more detail from a greater distance, but the landscape below her was fading further into shadow.

She fought back tears as she left the third place she had tried in an increasingly vain hope of finding Sunny. Laura clenched her teeth as she realized just how much she had hung on Sunny's every word during their talks, that she could remember with such detail every place that Sunny had described where she (allegedly) liked to visit.

Just more lies.

While her ears had managed to pick up a distant buzzing, she had little time to worry about it. She knew drones were in the area, but she had paid them little mind. Yet with her search coming up empty, she had been about to turn her attention more towards the noise when she caught a flicker of light in the distance, halfway up to the summit of Ute Mountain, one of the two mountains that flanked the "back way" into Lazy Pines, the same road that Aunt Eileen had taken to enter town.

She almost disregarded it. Had this been any other context, she would have assumed it to be campers. Yet she flew towards it anyway, and her eyes widened when she realized what she had seen were not the embers of a campfire, but the glow of a unicorn horn. Her heart pounding, she went into a controlled dive, her wings held steady and slightly back to minimize resistance.

The ground rushed at her, and she backwinged at the last moment to land neatly and quietly. Her heart lurched as she traced the horn glow to the achingly familiar yellow and red form that she had previously come to know and love. Even now, Laura could not help but feel a small surge of renewed affection for the pony that had helped her realize her potential, and it again became easy to disregard the warnings from the others.

Only when she shook herself out of this brief reverie did she notice that Starlight was here as well, but she remained strangely quiet and absolutely still. If it were not for the failing daylight, Laura may not have noticed the faint glow surrounding Starlight's body.

"There," Sunny said with satisfaction. "I've established a link to the device via one of several ley lines I put down when I first moved to Lazy Pines. The humans likely think the first thing I'm going to do is retrieve it myself, so that should buy me some time."

"And what makes you think that Twilight won't stop you from doing that?" Starlight demanded.

Laura tilted her head. Starlight was standing rock-still despite using her voice. Even her legs were positioned as if she were in mid-stride. And why was there a nervous quaver to her voice?

"Don't be stupid," Sunny scoffed. "Twilight is an alicorn. I spent a better part of my life studying them. I know how they affect the ambient magical field. I can tell she's not on Earth right now."

"That's not going to last for long after she finds out you've escaped!"

"Long enough for me to do what needs to be done."

Laura's heart pounded. This didn't sound like the Sunny she knew. Sunny sounded every bit as cool and calculating as Laura had been led to believe. This would be the kind of pony who could indeed accomplish some grand scheme in which a single pony like Laura had very little meaning other than just another cog in a giant machine.

Starlight's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, and I think I know exactly what it is you're going to do."

Sunny stepped closer to Starlight. "Is that supposed to impress me? Sure, you had a spell I didn't expect, kudos for that. It didn't take me long to figure out how it worked, though, including that it never completely severed my connection to my cutie mark. And before you congratulate yourself on getting the 'big bad Sunset Shimmer' into talking about her plans, I honestly don't care who hears them. So don't consider yourself oh-so-clever for engaging me in the native language. Maybe I won't realize my original goals, but I can at least ensure there's a chance that--"

Only then did Laura notice the wounded leg, and despite pressing a hoof to her muzzle, she let out a small gasp.

Sunny suddenly jerked her head in Laura's direction. Her horn flashed, and a beam of light shot from it like a flashlight. It swept over to Laura, who squinted and raised a fore-leg to shade her eyes.

Sunny uttered a gasp. "Laura??"

"What?!" Starlight cried, her eyes sliding towards Laura as far as they would go, but she was turned just far enough that it was unlikely she could see anything but the barest glimpse out of the corner of her eye. "Laura, if that's you, you shouldn't be here! Get away now while – mmph!"

Starlight went silent, her jaw as much a statue as the rest of her.

Sunny cantered over to Laura. Laura swallowed hard, backing up a half step, a fore-hoof raised and her wings unfolded as if she truly wanted to flee. Instead, she simply glanced between Sunny and Starlight in abject confusion, allowing Sunny to close with her. "Starlight is right, you really shouldn't be here."

Suddenly Sunny's voice was all warm and friendly again, as if all she truly cared about was Laura's safety and well-being. Laura wanted to believe this was the true Sunny, and what she had seen here upon arriving was the facade. "Sunny, what's going on? What's wrong with Starlight?"

"Starlight is unharmed," Sunny said with a small smile. "It's just a freeze spell, a bit of advanced magic."

Laura glanced up. Sunny's horn was still glowing, more so than to account for the simple light spell.

"I won't try to hide who and what I really am anymore, Laura," Sunny said in a contrite voice. "As I imagine you've been told about me by now."

"Yes, I do know," Laura said.

Sunny craned her neck slightly, and she smiled broadly. "You have your cutie mark! I thought you might be one of the first to get one. I'm really happy for you."

Laura only then realized her wings were still extended. She folded them to her sides. "And ... a-and were you the one who designed it for me?"

Sunny's smile faded. "I don't understand."

Laura paused to fight back tears. This was the pony she had trusted to help her during what had been the most difficult time in her life, somepony who she even now had trouble believing had only her own interests at heart. "Sunny, you ... you lied to me! You lied about everything!"

"Not everything, Laura," said Sunny in a soft voice.

Laura glanced at Sunny's horn. It seemed like it had grown even brighter. "And how am I supposed to know what to believe about you anymore?" Laura said in a quavering voice.

"When I tried to encourage you, when I told you that you could do whatever you set your mind to, I was being sincere."

Laura's heart ached. The memories of those moments came back to her now in cruel clarity. "Y-you want me to believe you? Then tell me the truth right now!" Laura demanded, her vision watery with tears. "Did you cause that storm ten years ago?"

Sunny's eyes widened, and she frowned slightly. She opened her mouth, and Laura braced herself for a denial. Instead, she glanced at Starlight before regarding Laura with a softened and even sad gaze. "It was an accident."

Laura's mouth dropped open, and her heart sank. She stumbled back a step as if she had been struck across the muzzle.

"I don't expect you to understand the explanation, but I was searching for a means to store magical energy needed for the transformation, and I experimented with using Earth's weather," said Sunny. "It obviously didn't work well."

"And so you made me a pegasus just as a way to make it up to me?!" Laura exploded. "How can you think you could begin to do that after what it did to Jenny and me?!"

Sunny gave her a pained look, but now Laura had to question whether this was all just a facade, that Sunny could don this emotional mask as good as any accomplished actress could, and this was just another sort of stage for her. "But look what you have done with it, Laura! You've achieved your dream of finding a purpose, something you really like to do."

"And how do I know you didn't just pour that into my head? How do I know I actually earned this cutie mark?"

"Your cutie mark is yours. While I can help smooth the way to ponies earning their marks, I can't control which ones they get. You earned it, Laura."

Laura wiped away tears with the back of her hoof. "But only after you disrupted my life in the first place."

Sunny's eyes glistened, but she said nothing in reply.

"And Jenny saw you, didn't she?!" Laura shouted. "She saw you, and you made her forget seeing you, and she became so scared that it completely changed her personality, all because you--!"

"I steered the tornado away from your house!" Sunny cried in a voice tinged with desperation, as if even now she wanted Laura's approval and love. "When I realized I couldn't dissipate it, I steered it towards an empty house. No one was killed."

Laura frowned. "Except a life that could've been. I didn't have to go through everything I did for the last ten years. It was all your fault, wasn't it?"

Sunny uttered a long, sad sigh. "Yes, it was."

Laura simply stared. She had no idea what to say or even feel. She almost wished Sunny had adopted a classic villain persona. It would've been so much easier to switch her love to hate. Despite everything that the vision had told her, it would've been far easier to disregard any hope of forgiveness for this alien pony.

"But now you can have a new life," said Sunny.

Laura looked back at her cutie mark, something she had been so proud of just a few short hours ago.

"Yes, I am responsible for how your life turned out, and I am truly sorry for how you and your little sister have suffered."

Laura snapped her gaze back to Sunny and squinted at the ever brightening glow from her horn.

Sunny smiled faintly. "If it helps any, Laura, you were best suited to be a pegasus from the start. I really didn't have to push you in that direction."

"You're almost making it sound like I somehow earned the 'right' to be a pegasus." Laura said, bitterness creeping into her voice. "I don't feel like I've earned anything anymore! I feel like I got here because you decided who and what I should be! The fact that I don't even find it unusual or strange even after knowing all this just makes it all feel that much more surreal." Laura squinted and raised her foreleg before her eyes. "And you can please dim your horn a bit?"

Sunny stepped back, her horn bathing the surrounding area in an eldritch glow. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm building up energy for a spell."

Laura's heart raced. "Wh-what spell?" She backed up, and her wings flared. "What are you going to do to me now?"

Sunny smiled. It was not the smile of a villain about to see her evil plans realized. It was the smile of genuine achievement, like that of an artist about to put the finishing touch on her masterpiece. Somehow, that made Laura shiver. "My original plans have been disrupted. I likely won't see them through to completion, but I can give at least a significant part of this world a chance at a better future."

Laura did not hear the other hoofbeats thundering up the hill or the sweep of pegasus wing accompanying them until Sunny suddenly jerked her head towards the sounds herself. Sunny hastily backed up a few more steps, and she closed her eyes in concentration. Her horn suddenly blazed, bathing the hilltop in light so bright it seemed almost like the middle of the day.

Laura turned away from the brilliance, only to have it quickly fade away, leaving the hill in the dimness of deepening twilight. A new horn provided light, coming from a purple pony Laura had never seen before, one with both wings and a horn. She was accompanied by the alien ponies she had seen earlier, plus another two who were strangers: a cyan pegasus with rainbow hair and a white-coated unicorn with a musical note surrounded by stars as a cutie mark.

The purple pony came to an abrupt stop. Her mouth dropped open, and her pupils shrank.

Sunny turned to her. "Don't bother, Twilight. You're too--"

The purple one called Twilight clenched her teeth. A beam of light erupted from her horn, which struck Sunny dead-on. Laura screamed when Sunny slammed into a nearby tree and slid limply to the ground.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!" Twilight roared.

"Oh my gosh!" Fluttershy cried.

Applejack rushed up to Twilight and threw her fore-legs around Twilight's barrel when she threatened to advance. "No, Twi, stop! She ain't worth it!"

"I-I've never seen her this angry before," said Pinkie, her hair appearing slightly less poofy than before.

"Twilight, get a hold of yourself," Rarity pleaded. "Starlight looks to be in distress."

Laura's heart hammered, her glistening eyes on Sunny. Even now she fought the urge to fly over and help her. Sunny slowly picked herself up and hobbled away from the tree.

Twilight took a deep breath and turned towards Starlight. Her horn flashed, and Starlight began to move like a movie taken off pause. She frowned and cantered over to Twilight. "I'll tell you what she probably just did. I found out her transformation spell has a accelerator on it. I imagine she can trigger it to speed up the transformation. She said something about linking to her device."

"Only as a power relay," said Sunny. "So I could protect my magic far enough."

Twilight frowned and marched forward. "Is Starlight right? Is that what you just did? And don't even think about trying to shield against me or teleporting out of here. I can tell that your magic is spent right now."

Starlight glanced over to Laura. "Twilight, I don't think you want to continue until we clear the area a bit."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Laura cried. "I came here to find out the truth about what's going on."

"It's not safe for you," said Fluttershy.

"Stop telling her nonsense," said Sunny. "Unless you do intend to fight me again."

"Starlight, keep Laura from getting any closer for her own safety. There's no time to get her out of here," Twilight said. Before Laura could protest, Twilight turned towards Sunny. "You don't seem to understand what's at stake here! The American military knows exactly where you are right now. The only reason they're not here is because I begged them to let my friends and I come here first."

Laura's eyes widened. "Did somepony follow me here?"

"It was fer yer own good," Applejack said.

"I'm sorry, but they were desperate to find Sunset once they knew she had escaped," said Twilight.

"I didn't come here to lead an attack on her!" Laura protested.

"We're trying to prevent just that. This is her last chance."

"Stop trying to scare her," Sunny protested.

"Sunset, you have no idea how desperate the humans are to stop you!" Twilight shouted. "They have a cruise missile readying for launch if I don't stop you from interfering any further!"

"Uh, what's a cruise missile?" the rainbow-haired one asked of Applejack.

"Not sure, but it don't sound good," said Applejack.

Laura's heart thundered. Was this really being treated as a sort of invasion? Had she so lost sight of the original crisis that had brought her here that she could not see past her own fur and feathers? All of the vitriol she had spent trying to reconcile how her life had turned out had been without regard to her body, but maybe she needed to start considering that as well.

"That's how bad this has become," Twilight said. "They'll do anything to eliminate you as a threat."

"It doesn't matter anymore what they do to me," Sunny said. "I've done all I can. Maybe you've managed to prevent me from realizing my plans of a planet-wide pony civilization, but I can make damn sure there is a large enough population of ponies on this world that they can't be ignored or swept out of the way. And the way to do that is to ensure that whoever has started transforming will become a full pony in another day or so."

Laura felt like her head was spinning. She was trying to piece together everything that was going on, but where she had been so focused on herself and what she could do, she had not stopped to understand how she got here. She had sought truth, but part of her wished she had left it well enough alone.

Twilight turned to Starlight. "There's no way she could make that spread to the entire transforming population all at once. It must be designed to jump from person to person."

"What difference does that make now?" Starlight said. "We don't have time to stop it."

"Not unless Sunset tells us how."

"And what makes you think I'm going to do that?" Sunny said.

Laura fought to remember what she had gone through those first few days when she had no idea what was happening to her, when she felt increasingly like some sort of half-horse freak. She forced herself to recall the anxiety, the tears, the panic, at least until the point when she started to feel more pony than human without ever realizing it.

Her eyes widened as if they had only just been opened to the reality. She looked at herself. A body that had been made for her, not so much to wrap around her persona as to try and shape it like a mold. She looked at her cutie mark. It was hers, whether earned or dispensed, and she was going to have to live with it.

"That's what we're here for," Twilight said in a lower voice. "Not to force you to do anything, but to hopefully help you understand."

"You can talk all you want," Sunny said. "It won't change how I feel."

"I know I have no words that will persuade you, but we're hoping to send you to somepony who will."

"And, again, I ask you, just how do you propose to do such a thing when you can't contain me? And don't even think of trying that little unmarking trick again. I already have a defensive spell against it."

The white-coated unicorn with the note-and-stars mark surged forward. "Sunset, you idiot, do you even realize who these other ponies are?"

Sunny's gaze flicked over them. "I can sense they're Equestrian ponies with a fair amount of magic, but what of it?"

"They're the living embodiment of the Elements of Harmony! I seem to recall you scoffed at them as 'unreliable relics'!"

Sunny hesitated. "And what of it? I'm not ignorant of Harmony magic. I know perfectly well it won't work here."

Starlight stepped over to Twilight and said in a soft voice, "Did she just call your bluff?"

"No," Twilight replied. "I'll explain it later." She turned towards Sunny. "You think you have all the answers, Aunt Sunset, but you've only shown just how painfully ignorant you really are." She glanced at her friends. "Now."

Twilight and five of the other alien ponies moved to space themselves out evenly and closed their eyes. Laura felt her fur rise and buzz with something akin to static electricity as a supernatural wind suddenly swirled around the six. She gasped and stumbled back when the first of the wide beams of bright rainbow light shot down from the heavens, striking Twilight and enveloping her in sparkling magic.

When the beam vanished, standing there was a version of Twilight who exuded more power than Laura could ever have imagined. Her hair, fur, and feathers were detailed in rainbow accents, and she virtually glowed with a confidence that matched her power.

More beams thundered down, each one striking the ground as if like a pile driver. Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and the cyan-furred pegasus in turn were similarly transformed.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Starlight muttered in awe.

Sunny's eyes widened. She glanced between them and backed up a step. "I don't understand what's going on here."

"And that's the problem," Twilight said in a sad voice. "But I'm hoping you soon will."

"Wait!" Laura heard herself yell, and she flew towards Sunny.

"Laura, stop!" Starlight cried.

"Get outta the way, sugarcube!" Applejack cried. "This ain't your fight!"

"Please, Laura, we don't want you to be hurt!" Fluttershy pleaded.

Laura's heart pounded. She had no idea what was going to happen, other than she felt this was the absolute last time she would ever get a chance to talk to Sunny.

"Stop making me out to be a monster to her," Sunny snapped.

"They said you're speeding up more transformations," said Laura in a quavering voice.

"Yes, I am. This will be for their own good in the end. They won't feel so awkward for as long as you did."

Laura let out a shaky breath. Sunny was back to the pony that she knew, the one who could soothe her nerves or encourage her with just a few words. Yet she had to assume that this Sunny was fake, that the real Sunny was the one who had just argued with Twilight. "But did you ask them first?"

Sunny hesitated. "Ask them?"

"Did you ask anypony first? Anypony at all? Or did you just do it?" Laura paused. "Like you did me and my family?"

"Your family is better for it, Laura," Sunny said softly. "You're better for it."

"Only because you had to fix something you messed up."

"You would be better for it even if I had not accidentally interfered with your life. That's the point. That was always the point from the start."

Laura's eyes glistened. In those few words, Sunny had shattered the illusion she had built around herself. Maybe she had genuinely cared for Laura, but only in a greater context that suited her ends. Laura took a deep breath and let it go as a shaky sigh. "Maybe I still do like what's become of me and what I can do, but ... you ... y-you have no right to make that kind of decision for people."

"I had my reasons, Laura," Sunny said in a soft voice.

"I don't care!" Laura cried, flaring her wings. "Maybe I do still feel better about myself, but only because you forced it on me! I'll never know whether I could've achieved this on my own. I'll never know what's really mine and what you manufactured for me."

"Does it really matter if it means you can be happy?"

Laura glanced towards Twilight and her friends. While they were obviously poised to do something to Sunny, she saw no lust for justice or revenge in their faces. If anything, they looked sad, like this was something they were forced to do.

Laura turned back to Sunny. "They're right. You don't get it. I'm going to be as happy as I can, and be the best pegasus I can be, but not because of you ... but in spite of you."

"Laura, you don't mean ... Laura, wait!" Sunny called out.

Laura had already taken flight, her vision a watery mess. She had always thought she would never know what a broken heart felt like until she first had a coltfriend dump her or have a close family member pass away. She had been proven wrong in the worst possible way.

She landed a short distance away and had only just turned around when she saw Twilight and her five rainbow-powered friends rise into the air, energy surging and swirling around them. A ribbon of rainbow-colored magic passed from one pony to the other until they had circled back to Twilight, as if channeling everything through her. The purple pony's eyes glowed brilliant white, and an almost blinding beam of more rainbow light struck Sunny.

Laura cringed, her ears flattening against the scream that never came. Instead, there was simply a bright flash of light that left purple dots floating before her eyes, and when the brightness had faded, Sunny had vanished.
> Chapter 52 - Judgment
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset looks on with astonishment at her surroundings, as this is nothing like she expected.

She honestly had no idea where she would go, as she had very little time to analyze the magic that hit her. Harmony magic is something she ever only encountered in ancient texts and her own theories. She suspected it sprung from a central source, but Celestia never talked about it, and Sunset never found it. Yet she is sure that it tied into Ascension somehow, and this is the source of her surprise and no small amount of confusion.

Sunset told Star Singer that she does not seek Ascension. While true, Sunset would not have turned it down had it happened. She thought that avenue closed to her the moment she left Equestria behind. Only upon a successful and triumphant return, with the full force of magic behind her from a seven billion strong pony population, would it ever enter the picture again. After all, in her view, Celestia's power would not be enough to counter all the future threats Equestria faced, and a new alicorn Princess would be needed.

As she slowly trots forward in this strange realm, she can feel immense power on the edge of her magical senses. Did Twilight's plan for Sunset backfire? Or did Twilight have a change of heart but had to fool the humans long enough to help spark Sunset's Ascension? No, that is wishful thinking, just her pining to have at least one member of her family understand and support her.

Sunset knew once she entered that portal by herself over twenty years ago, she cut herself off from any support. That was easier to bear when she believed Equestria as she knew it was doomed. Finding out that Equestria survived was bittersweet, and discovering active opposition to her plans sad.

Sunset stops when she senses a presence. She has no clear sense of direction in this realm. Clearly she is not meant to go to it -- whoever or whatever 'it' is -- but that it is supposed to come to her.

"I'm here," Sunset calls out.

"Sunset Shimmer."

Sunset is so shocked by the voice that she stumbles as she turns towards it. Her eyes widen, and her lips part as she stares at a pony she never thought she would ever see again. "Princess Celestia??"

Celestia strides forward and comes to a stop a few pony-lengths away. Sunset takes only another step forward before she realizes that the gulf between them might as well have been light years. Does some part of her still hope for the relationship they once had, even after all this time?

Sunset said to Star Singer "she wouldn't even have to thank me." It sounded like an off-the-hoof quip, but really, Sunset wants that thank you, not for the accolades, but just an acknowledgement that everything she did was worth it in the end. Now she does not even have that much to present to her former mentor. In reality, a partial success is no success at all.

"I failed you," Sunset says in a low voice. "And Equestria."

"No, Sunset," Celestia says. "You did far worse than that. You disappointed me. And as for Equestria, it is unlikely it will be as appreciative of your actions as perhaps you believe."

"My plans were working!" Sunset declares. "It was Twilight who interfered with them! If she hadn't--!"

"And once again, you are doing what you have been for the past twenty years: utterly missing the point."

Sunset now has to accept what she did not want to see, that Twilight's corruption stemmed from their shared former mentor. Her hopes that Celestia had come to see reason are dashed. "If you're about to go on and on about the morality of what I'm doing to humanity, you can save your breath. I've heard it more than I care to from two ponies I thought were my friends."

"I have no intention of taking that path," Celestia says. "As it is apparent that it is wasted on you. You have reduced everything to cold mathematical odds and hard equations."

"And you're doing the same thing Twilight tried to do: paint me as some sort of monster."

"What have you left me with? You are not the first to make grandiose plans based on patterns of logic, but always such plans were tempered by the heart."

"And mine is supposed to be so cold that I cannot do the same?" Sunset protests. "I care for every last human I have transformed! I even went out of my way to see to the welfare of a human family whose lives I accidentally disrupted. I'm trying to ensure that all their lives are better."

"You don't understand," Celestia says in a heavy voice. "And that is the great tragedy here. No, Sunset, I do not mean the heart to understand the morality of what actions you take. I mean the heart to leave open the possibility that your whole original premise may be wrong."

Sunset hesitates. "What??"

"Of every decision I make, the greater its impact, the more I must consider the possibility I am wrong. To fail to do so means committing myself to an action that, even if successful, was ultimately completely unnecessary and disruptive. And this, Sunset Shimmer, is why I am disappointed in you."

Sunset's mind races. She remembers the day she finally finished her great effort in determining the magical reserve of ponykind, when she wrote down her final equations and contemplated the legacy she intended to bequeath to Twilight.

"Because when you choose to take an action that will affect an entire species," Celestia continues. "You must be absolutely and unequivocally correct. Not a single premise upon which you base that decision can be wrong."

"But I'm not wrong!" Sunset cries. "I verified all my theories time and time again. What more would you have wanted of me?"

Celestia closes her eyes as if in silent contemplation, and Sunset realizes that she is falling back into old habits that she thought herself free of. She actually wants Celestia's approval. She wants to be told that she did a good job. This is the mare that tried to erase all existence of her, and yet she still wants that acknowledgement.

Yet when Celestia's eyes open, and they blaze with an almost blinding white brilliance, all Sunset can do is stumble back in shock.

Celestia's mane and tail suddenly burst into flame. She spreads her wings, and the trailing ends of her feathers glow like smoldering coals. She takes a step forward, and smoke rises from her hooves as they leave char marks in their wake even upon this ethereal realm.

"WE ARE HERE TO INSTRUCT THEE AS TO EXACTLY HOW WRONG THOU ART," Celestia's voice booms with such volume that Sunset's ears ring.

Sunset quivers, and she tries to penetrate the illusion, for that is what it must be. The sheer amount of power she senses could not possibly be concentrated in a single pony, for no pony could ever stand such power without shattering from the inside out, even an alicorn of Celestia's abilities. Or what she thought were her former mentor's abilities.

"WE SENSE THY PROBINGS, AND WE ASSURE THEE WHAT THOU SEES IS REAL"

Sunset swallows hard, her eyes glistening as all she can do is stare when her feeble attempts to deny what she is seeing crumble to dust. This is the power she had sensed from the distance when she first arrived. She had assumed it originated from this realm, but even then she could sense an intelligence behind it that she did not want to acknowledge.

"WE CAN BREAK THE DAY. WE CAN SHATTER THE NIGHT. BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, WE CAN DESTROY THY SENSE OF INFALLIBILITY."

Here is everything Sunset ever wanted. Here is the salvation of pony-kind from all threats. Here is what would have assured her that Equestria would be safe for all time to come. It was right there, all along, and she did not see it.

"This has to be some sort of a trick!" Sunset bellows.

Celestia lifts a fore-hoof and slams it back down. A clap of thunder reverberates from the strike. A wave of power expands from the impact which flows over Sunset like a blast of scorching hot air. "WE DO NOT PLAY PETTY GAMES. THOU ART AN EVEN BIGGER FOOL IF THOU DENIEST WHAT THY SENSES TELL THEE."

"Then why didn't you tell me you could do this?!" Sunset screams as she wipes tears away with the back of a fore-hoof. "Why did you never tell me you could command such power? Why didn't you ever USE IT?!"

Celestia's expression softens, and she lowers the volume of her voice as she says, "Just because something can be done does not necessarily mean it should be done, my dear Sunset."

Sunset's voice become venomous as she says through clenched teeth, "I spent twenty years of my life at this. I tore myself from friends and family. I left them all hating me. And then you made them forget me. I GAVE UP MY LIFE FOR THIS!"

Celestia sighs and closes her eyes. She reverts back to her original form, and when her eyes open, they look upon Sunset with a mixture of worry and sympathy. "Is that all you can think of, Sunset? Of your own life and fortune? Nothing to be said of the other lives you disrupted?"

"Y-you could've told me what you could do," Sunset says in a quavering voice.

"Yes, I could have," says Celestia. "I could use the excuse that I simply didn't understand exactly what you were doing, but, really, it is beside the point. The point is, you chose an action with such far-reaching consequences based on your own research -- research you did not let anypony validate -- under the assumption that you could do no wrong."

Sunset's throat tightens, and she is unable to respond right away. She wants to claim that nopony else was at the level of her ability or knowledge to even begin to understand her equations, yet that is not at all true. The one being who could have understood them, who could have set her mind at ease with a simple, singular demonstration, stood before her in judgment.

She wipes her eyes again as she thinks back to her last conversation with Laura. Perhaps nopony will ever believe her, but it hurt to know she disrupted Laura and her family due to Sunset's own failing. Laura's last words to her had stung more than she let on, and at the revelation that none of the disruption was ever needed in the first place, it became a much deeper wound.

Yet even this pales in comparison to what she did to Fred Turner. She never intended for him to spend twenty years in a delusional state. That she found him useful in the end had indeed been a calculated move, but always with the idea that realizing the goal would be worth it.

But there is one thing that simply does not fit.

"You didn't answer my other question," Sunset says in a low voice. "If you had this power all along, why didn't you use it on past threats? Why did you rely on magic relics? And don't fall back on that can or should nonsense. I want the real reason!"

Celestia pauses as if collecting her thoughts. "The demonstration I just gave is of immense power, yes, but barely controlled. It can do more harm than good. It can defeat the most powerful foe at the price of turning a large area of Equestria into a wasteland."

"Then how can you stand there and claim all my work was for nothing?"

Celestia closes her eyes, and Sunset takes another step back, as if fearing that the next demonstration of power would be directed at her in summary judgment. Yet her former mentor's face remains calm and somewhat sad. "Had this been just a day ago, I would not have an answer for you. Yet there was one nagging detail that I could not resolve." She opens her eyes and casts a troubled gaze at Sunset. "Why would you ever be considered for Ascension?"

Sunset's pupils shrink. "I ... what??"

"Exactly what I have said, Sunset. I can sense when ponies are close. I sensed that in you before you left, before you started on your transformation research."

Sunset's heart pounds. Fear turns to rage. and it is all she can do not to leap at Celestia despite knowing it would likely be the last thing she ever did. "And you took all that away from me when you--!"

"No," Celestia says firmly. "You threw it all away."

"You're not making any sense."

Celestia frowns and steps forward until she looms over Sunset. "Then let me clear it up for you, my little pony. I took another look at your equations, especially those for Twilight in estimating her potential power as an alicorn. It was then I finally realized a possible application for your research, and a reason you were considered for Ascension: you could have solved the problem of the second threshold."

Sunset blinks. "The what??"

"I did not always command this power. I developed it some time after becoming an alicorn."

"My research clearly showed that you built up your power over time," Sunset says with growing impatience. "It simply never predicted such a spike in--"

"Sunset, until I am finished or ask you a direct question, kindly shut up."

Sunset stumbles back another half-step, her utter shock at such a simple rebuke enough to silence her for the moment.

Celestia begins to pace about her former student. "You may think yourself brilliant, but what you really are is short-sighted. You chose a course of action so early on that you blinded yourself to other possibilities. I noted something very interesting in your research. Not once did you ever extensively explore the issue of my immortality. Equestrian history is rife with mages attempting to find the secret of eternal life, and nopony ever succeeded. Did you ever wonder why that was?"

Sunset swallows. "I noticed you haven't told me where your power--"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" Celestia roars.

Sunset's ears flatten hard against her head, and she struggles not to cringe. "I-I didn't think it was important! I thought it was something that I would work out later."

"Wasn't important?! When it could have led you to question as to whether I possessed more power than was immediately apparent? Or were you so far along in your grandiose idea to transform an innocent species that you just didn't want to see anything that could possibly hint you were in the wrong?"

"Everything I did was for you!" Sunset yells. "Everything I did was to further your power, in order to protect Equestria!"

"At which you failed."

Sunset's lower lip quivers, her mouth open as if to protest, but no sound emerges.

Celestia flares her wings. "You have no idea what it is like to possess the power to crack Equestria in two and have little means to use it. Every powerful threat that has come up, I have had to watch myself, to stop myself from thinking the situation so dire that I would have no choice but to use that power. The closest I ever came was Tirek, and even then it took Luna and Cadance to convince me to trust Twilight with our combined power to hide it from him. You could have used those twenty years helping me find a way to control that power. You could have given us BOTH everything we ever wanted. You would have a ruler you could worship as a goddess -- worship I STILL would not want or desire -- and I would have the means to protect my ponies from any threat." Celestia snaps her wings to her side and adds in a lower but no less angry voice, "And you would have likely earned a set of wings for your efforts."

Sunset's thoughts are too jumbled for her to make a coherent reply. All the protests she could make ring hollow. At the beginning, she wanted to protect Equestria. Then it became protecting two species. She feels like she made the ultimate sacrifice in leaving her former life behind.

And now she finds herself asking the same question Laura asked of herself: what if everything she thought she knew and believed is wrong?

"Please tell me," Sunset finally says in a plaintive voice. "Where does this power come from?"

"It's exact origins are unknown to me," Celestia states in a calmer voice. "I call it 'the second threshold,' a point after Ascension when a conduit opens to this power. It is at that point I became immortal."

Even in the depths of her emotional turmoil, Sunset's mind works with almost cruel efficiency. She can picture the equations before her that led her to attempt to transform an entire species. The idea that magic is tied into life itself is a premise known from the very early days of Equestria's magical awakening. Now she sees how those equations could have been extended. She could see how an infusion of power from another domain could somehow entwine itself around the life force, renewing and replenishing it.

Again, the protest threatens to spill to her lips, that she has the benefit of being told about this power that Celestia has kept secret. She could pummel her former mentor with accusations of holding out on her. Yet how many times has Celestia done that in the past, and Sunset always came through with the answer anyway?

"And had you explored my immortality, I have every confidence you would have discovered everything I have just told you," Celestia says in a voice more sad than angry. "And look where we are now instead."

"I thought I was right," Sunset says in a firmer voice as she struggles to regain the initiative. "I thought I had the only possible solution to the problem. I wasn't looking for personal glory. It was never about that."

"I never said it was, Sunset." Celestia utters a heavy sigh. "It is a common failing among ponies that we see the world through our own biases. I believe that's what you did. You were always trying to push the boundaries of magical knowledge, and you had the golden opportunity to do so here. Nopony had ever managed a permanent transformation spell, but you saw it could be done."

"Because that was the only way I saw to achieve my goal," Sunset says.

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear. Tell me, Sunset: I know you dismissed my concepts of can and should just now, but what about back then? Did you ever give even a moment's thought to it? Did you ever ask yourself if the ultimate outcome was really worth the turmoil you created?" 

"What difference does it make now?!" Sunset explodes. "When it's already been said and done? I don't exactly have a time travel spell where I can go back and change anything, now do I? It's over."

"Because what you were thinking matters," Celestia says in an urgent voice. "It matters to me, and it matters as to your ultimate judgment."

Sunset's eyes widen. "Judgment? And just who is doing the judging?"

"A very good question, Sunset Shimmer. A very good question indeed."

"You're not ... you're not even thinking of letting the humans--!"

"Does that idea frighten you?" Celestia asks.

If the tone were any less sincere and earnest, Sunset would suspect Celestia is baiting her. She cannot answer with the truth. She has already let herself look disgustingly weak before Celestia, and all because her former mentor ran her around in circles of both emotion and logic.

Yet those equations she bet her entire life upon still spin in her head, forcing her to see the further possibilities that she ignored two decades before.

"You claim you have the interests of the humans at heart," Celestia continues. "Surely you would want the chance to explain yourself and your thinking to them as assuredly as you're trying to do so with me."

"Stop playing games," Sunset snaps. "If you've been talking to Twilight, you know perfectly well how they'll react, especially considering how they've already tried to kill me twice."

"And you truly believe they have no right to act this way?"

"If I had been allowed to finish, none of this would matter!" Sunset cries. "They wouldn't have any need for violent justice! They wouldn't have any needs at all! They would have had peace and plenty for eons!"

"That's what you claim you believe now," says Celestia. "Is that what you believed back then when you first conceived of your plans? Did you approach it thinking that you were improving the lives of another species? That you were helping them as much as your own kind?"

Sunset's mind spins with so many memories of her many conversations with Star Singer on the subject that she hesitates.

Celestia steps up to her former pupil. "Or did you simply use it as a means to prevent yourself from ever doubting what you were doing, from ever questioning whether this was truly the right thing to do, from silencing any of the guilt that--"

"There was no guilt," Sunset utters in a low voice. "There can never be any guilt. Guilt is just another name for doubt. There can be no guilt if there is no doubt."

Celestia tilts her head. "I do not quite understand."

Sunset stomps a fore-hoof. "In all the time I was your student, did you once see me appear as anything but confident and self-assured, even when I made mistakes?"

"Yes, it was one of the things which brought you to my attention when I was seeking a student."

"Exactly," Sunset says in a low but firm voice. "Ever since that day I gained my cutie mark, I realized I had the potential to be a powerful unicorn. Having such power means I can't afford to doubt myself. I can't afford to feel like I don't have all the answers."

"And where did you get such an idea?"

"From you."

Celestia remains silent and thoughtful, and she nods in a bid for Sunset to continue.

"I admired you from an early age, even before I earned my cutie mark. I saw you as the epitome of self-confidence and self-assuredness. Not once did you ever waver. You acted as if you knew exactly what you were doing at every step. And when I became your student, you continued to act in the same way. You never even hinted at any of the supposed doubts you had about anything you did."

Celestia utters a forlorn sigh. "I already realized that I should have developed a less formal relationship with you, and these are things I later corrected when I took on Twilight as my student. I have already accepted some blame in the way things have turned out for you."

"I'm not looking to lay blame. I like feeling confident. I don't like doubting myself." Sunset pauses. "Did you know that the town in which I ultimately chose to spread the virus was not my first choice? Do you want to know why I changed my plans? All because of a single human girl."

Sunset's eyes glisten as she recalls her last conversation with Laura. She is mindful of Celestia's curious gaze, and she suppresses any further emotional reaction. Despite the sentimentality in her words, she cannot let it go beyond that. She cannot start to doubt herself after all this time. "I had accidentally triggered a tornado while doing research into magic energy storage, and a five year old girl witnessed it. I altered her memory and sent her back home and thought that the end of it."

Celestia considers. "Jenny Tanner?"

"Yes," Sunset replies. "Yet when I checked on them later, I discovered that while Jenny retained no knowledge of the incident, it was her older sister Laura who became traumatized over it. She went from a girl who could have become a confident young woman to someone riddled with self-doubt."

"And you felt no guilt over this?" Celestia asks.

"I felt regret, not guilt. But more importantly, I saw myself."

"I do not understand."

"Have you ever been told the truth about the time I gained my cutie mark?"

"Twilight witnessed a memory of your mother with the help of Luna," Celestia explains. "It was when you first created magical plasma. You seemed very confident of your work."

"Well, I wasn't," says Sunset in a softer voice. "My mother obviously idealized the memory. I stumbled over myself, over my words, over everything. It was a sheer miracle that I achieved the result that I did. But once I did, and I saw the potential I had, I realized I had no business doubting myself. That's what I saw in Laura. I sensed that her transformation would make her very powerful and very capable, but only if she stopped doubting herself."

"So you stayed in Lazy Pines?"

"Yes, specifically so I could help guide her when she transformed." Sunset frowns. "So don't you dare even imply that I don't care about this species. I went out of my way to see to the future of a single human."

"And yet you are once again missing a crucial point," Celestia says. "Your doubt when you were young was all your doing, as was the confidence you gained later. Laura's self-confidence was all your manipulation, as was her doubt in the first place."

"What difference does that make when the end result is the same?" Sunset says in exasperation. "I made a mistake, and I owned up to it and fixed it."

"And now we come full circle," Celestia says in a harder voice. "Living beings do not exist for you to 'fix' them. That is the attitude you appear to have adopted concerning the humans. They are just tools to you in the end. Properly and perhaps even lovingly maintained, but tools just the same."

Sunset wants to argue the point with Celestia, but to what end? To force some sort of acknowledgement from her that would never be granted if they argued until Earth's sun went dark? Yes, the humans were a means to an end for her. She wants to believe her care for them is genuine. Certainly it is eminently practical. Why abuse the very beings who are serving a grand purpose?

And yet what continues to nag at the back of her mind is the idea that none of this had to happen. Her logical mind refuses to dismiss the possibility that exploring Celestia's immortality would have led her down a different path.

"You want me to admit that I made a mistake in choosing the solution that I did?" Sunset says in a voice that quavers slightly despite her attempts to steady it. "Then I will. I admit the possibility I could have neglected an avenue of research that would have led to a different solution." She narrows her eyes. "But had I pursued that, and had it turned up empty, and this solution was still viable, I would have not hesitated in pursuing it."

"I-I've heard enough," a choked female voice emerges from the thin air. "Please ... I don't want to hear anymore!"

Sunset's mouth drops open, and her pupils shrink. "That voice ... it sounds like ..."

Celestia gives Sunset a forlorn look as her horn glows, and a concealment spell is dispelled. A unicorn mare appears beside her.

"What?" Sunset says in a tiny voice. "M-Mom?!"

Sunset Glow steps forward, her face a mix of sadness and anger. Sunset nearly gives into the urge to dash up to her mother and hug her, yet something about her mother's stance holds her in abeyance.

"They told me something about you that I couldn't believe," says Glow in a voice unsteady but rising in both anger and despair with every word. "Until I heard you speak the way you did just now."

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Derpy!" Glow cries, her eyes tearing. "Did you really transform a griffon child into a pony just to further your research?!"

Sunset takes a deep breath. "Mom, please, you don't--"

"Just answer my question!"

"Yes, I did, but--"

All the magical reflexes and power in Sunset's possession were not enough to see the back of Glow's fore-hoof until it struck her with a resounding slap across her muzzle. Sunset stumbles back in utter shock, raising a trembling fore-hoof to the side of her face.

"You're not the daughter I raised!" Glow wails. "My daughter would never EVER tear a child from her parents for ANY reason! Despite everything I was told about what you were doing, I had hoped at least that detail was wrong. Maybe I could accept everything else you did as getting too wrapped up in your grandiose plans, that you saw the forest but not the trees. That's easy enough to understand, b-but this--!"

"What are you getting at?" Sunset demands in a quavering voice. "Why are you harping on this one detail?"

"Because that's all it is to you is one little detail. You used her for your own ends. You did that RIGHT FROM THE START! Now you expect me to believe you actually care for these humans you're transforming?"

Sunset extends her magical senses in increasing desperation, searching for anything that could expose this as a ruse. Illusion spells, changeling magic, anything. Instead, she is confronted with the hard reality that this is really her mother, a mare who was nothing but supportive her entire life. Some of the very words Sunset used with Laura she had one heard from Sunset Glow.

"Princess Celestia was right," Glow says in a despairing voice. "They're just tools to you. They're just there for you to manipulate. You might as well have been the racist that you let your family believe of you. I thought there would be nothing worse than that. I was wrong."

"I care for the humans," Sunset says in a strained voice.

"I don't believe you. How can I trust anything you do or say? I have to assume it's just part of your scheme, a calculated response to gain sympathy from me."

Sunset's throat is too tight for her to speak further, but even if she could, she has no words with which to defend herself. It was easier to accept rejection from her family when she believed they were as good as dead, or living in such bad conditions that Sunset's triumphant return would render all debate over how she got to that point moot. Since first learning Equestria survived, Sunset had in the back of her mind the desire to reconnect with her family. She first hoped to do that through Twilight by eventually convincing her of the merits of her plans.

Sunset said she gave up her life for her work, words which now had become prophetic. If her own mother cannot be swayed, she truly has nothing left, not even a successful execution of her plans to show for it.

"You started life as a caring, wonderful filly who was a complete and utter joy to your family," Glow says in an increasingly shaky voice. "Now all I see is a cold and calculating mare who might as well be a completely different person. I have to wonder how you made that transition. At what point did that caring pony become just a facade, just a carefully crafted mask you wore so nopony would ever be the wiser?"

"Stop it!" Sunset screams as she wipes away tears. "I'm tired of being cast as a total monster! I'm not!!"

Glow regards her daughter with a look that Sunset dares to believe is the first glimmer of sympathy. "No, Sunny, you're not a monster. A monster feels glee for the destruction she causes. A monster I could understand. You just don't care, period." Glow utters a long sigh. "Maybe you really have convinced yourself that you do care. Maybe that makes it easier for you. I don't know. I don't know YOU anymore. I look at you, and I don't see the daughter I thought I had raised."

Sunset falls to her haunches and lowers her head.

"I'd do anything to get her back," Glow says, her voice cracking. "All it would take would be for her to admit that she was wrong, that transforming a species against its will was wrong, that tearing a child from her parents was wrong, that deceiving her parents, her friends, and her mentor was wrong."

Sunset doesn't know what to do or even feel. She feels grief, but for what? For the shattered relationship with her family? For the failure of her plans? For the complete lack of anything to show for all her work? For the failure to get others to understand? For the missed opportunity that would have avoided all this?

Or perhaps grief over the possibility that her mother is right?

It is too much for her to take in and consider all at once. She cannot make what everypony wants of her happen in an instant. She raises her eyes to her mother and blinks away tears. "I c-can't give you what you want. I don't know if I ever can."

Celestia steps forward. "Sunset, this is not the time to underestimate yourself. That you are even contemplating--"

"Shut up," Sunset says in a weak voice that is barely audible. "Just ... shut up. I-I've heard enough."

Glow bites her lower lip as she stares at Sunset with shimmering eyes. She finally whips her gaze back to Celestia. "Please, Princess, can we take her back to Equestria?"

Celestia sighs. "Sunset Glow, we spoke of this before we arrived."

"But that was before when we thought there was no chance of getting through to her! Maybe if we take her back, maybe if we give her more time, she--"

"No," Sunset says firmly.

Glow gives her a stricken look, and only in that moment does Sunset dare to believe that her mother still has any love left to give to her. It shatters her own heart to know she cannot accept it.

Sunset rises to her hooves. "You'll only be setting yourself up for disappointment."

"But you just implied that maybe with enough time, you could--"

"And how much time is enough?" Sunset exclaims. "A day? A month? Years? Decades? Maybe this is just playing to the perception that I see everything in numbers and equations -- and ... maybe that perception is right -- but I can calculate the most likely outcome: all I will see is my failure. All I will do is ask myself, what if I had been allowed to finish what I started? What if I had created something incredible?" She gives Celestia a morose look. "And I will alternate between that and wondering what I could have achieved had I chosen to pursue the alternate solution."

Tears start trickling from Glow's eyes again.

Sunset turns to her mother. "And you may be waiting all that time to hear words from me that may never come. I guess you're right. I'm not the daughter you once knew. I did become cold and calculating. I realize now that I thought I had to. If I was to save Equestria, I had to make absolutely sure I did not waver in my beliefs or actions." Her voice softens. "Everything else is a distraction."

"I don't want to be right!" Glow screams.

"It's better that you have the pain of being right about me than the extended pain of waiting for a redemption that may never come." Sunset turns to Celestia. "Send me back to Earth, please."

"N-no ..." Glow whimpers.

"Sunset Shimmer," Celestia says in a sad voice. "You should be aware of a decision that has been made concerning--"

"Twilight is going to let the Earth authorities prosecute me," Sunset says tonelessly.

"Yes. But I fully intend to be at your trial, and while I cannot and will not condone your actions, I will speak of what has transpired here. Perhaps in the time leading up to that point, you will find it in yourself to come to the understanding for which your mother has expressed her hopes."

Sunset's eyes glisten as she looks at both her mother and her former mentor. She once thought she would never see them again. Now she knows for sure. So this is indeed a judgment of a sort, even though she feels nopony else is fit to judge her.

She simply nods an acknowledgement to Celestia before saying to Glow, "Goodbye, Mom. I'm sorry I wasn't the daughter you wanted."

Glow can only make a choked noise while her tears flowed.

Sunset thinks she sees a tear form in one of Celestia's eyes before Sunset is once more cocooned in rainbow light.





Twilight glanced nervously at the assembled armed forces that had moved in soon after she and her friends had used their Rainbow Power on Sunset. She can sense their growing impatience as full night approached. It had taken a great deal of effort on her part to convince them to let her friends do this in the first place, culminating in a demand to speak directly to the President before it was authorized. Some saw it as an attempt to remove Sunset from the reach of their justice.

A searchlight gleamed off yellow and pink as Fluttershy flew in and landed nearby. "Laura is safely back at the settlement now, Twilight." She smiled. "The humans were very helpful in keeping their bright lights on us the whole time so we could find our way."

Twilight decided not to correct her friend's naiveté. More likely, they used the lights to keep track of them as if they were enemy fighters. The clearing itself was awash with light from the army vehicles, almost as bright as day. Nothing was getting in or out without the humans knowing about it.

Applejack stepped up to Twilight. "Is it jus' me, or are these here humans more antsy than a coupla fleas on a hot roof?"

"'Antsy' does not even begin to describe it," said Rarity in a subdued voice.

Rainbow Dash looked around. "Geez, is everything around us a freaking weapon?"

"Most likely, yes," said Twilight. "Or they contain weapons or have systems for summoning more weapons."

"Wow. Overkill much?"

Fluttershy's ears flattened slightly. "Um, they do know we're not the enemy, right?"

"Sure they do!" Pinkie Pie piped. "I think. Well, there was that bit about Twilight warning me not to bring my party cannons."

"I'm not worried about what they'll do to us," said Twilight. She looked over to the charred mark on the ground where Sunset had vanished. "I'm more worried about what they'll do to Sunset when she gets back, because that's where most of their weapons are pointed."

"I thought we had worked this out with them," Starlight said. "They give her an ultimatum, and I unmark her for good this time now that I figured out how to modify the enchantment on the jar to counter the buffeting effects."

"And if she doesn't accept that ultimatum?"

"Then we go all Rainbow Power on her ass again!" said Rainbow Dash.

"We can't," Twilight said. "Celestia took a great deal of time and effort to link us to the Tree of Harmony across the portal, and it was a temporary link only. We weren't even a hundred percent sure it would work. Only the knowledge gained from Sunset's energy conduit spell helped us make it possible at all. Remember, I never intended to try to use it in the first place. The original plan had been to try and contact Sunset while she was sedated. Her escape changed everything."

"Surely there's something we can do?" said Rarity.

"I think it's going to be mostly up to the humans now, and that's what I'm afraid of."

"How's that now?" Rainbow asked. "I thought you said you had the humans' trust."

"I do," said Twilight. After a pause, her eyes turned troubled. "At least I did. Thanks to Sunset escaping, they're extremely suspicious and wary right now. When I first presented our plans concerning Sunset, I got pummeled with all sorts of questions about our Rainbow Power. Why didn't you tell us you had this power? Why didn't you use it before? Why don't you use it to neutralize her now? If worst comes to worst, can you kill her with it?"

Fluttershy gasped and paled. "K-kill her??"

"They're seeing Sunset as a being who is destroying their world. They wanted to keep her alive to face justice, but they're not willing to take a chance she'll completely destroy them as a species. She's already triggered an acceleration of the ongoing transformations. I'm having a very hard time explaining to them what magic can and can't do."

"Heads up!" Applejack cried as a low whine rose from the center of the clearing. "Somethin's happenin'!"

Twilight turned and saw rainbow light beginning to swirl over the char mark as the whine grew louder. The soldiers saw it as well, and orders were shouted and weapons brought to bear.

The rainbow light swirled faster, collapsed in on itself, and lighted the clearing with a nearly blinding flash, leaving behind Sunset Shimmer.

At once, an amplified voice blared. "Attention Sunset Shimmer. You will remain where you are. You will submit yourself for unmarking. You will submit to being sedated. If you move from that spot, or attempt to use magic, or resist in any way, we will open fire."

"Dang, they're serious," Applejack said in a low voice.

Sunset did not respond. She simply stood there, staring straight ahead, her gaze directed just slightly off to the side.

"What is she doing?" Starlight whispered.

"Calculating her options, most likely," Star Singer murmured.

"Options? What options? She doesn't have any!"

"You don't know her like I do. If she thinks she has a way to do things on her own terms, she won't hesitate to try it."

"No, this has to end now," Twilight declared. She cantered forward. "Sunset, you have to agree to their demands! You don't have a choice now!"

Sunset turned her head towards her niece. Twilight's breath caught when she saw Sunset's eyes. Had she been crying?

Sunset's lips slowly curled into a slightly trembling smile. "Nonsense, Twily. There are always choices. Allow me to make mine."

"What in tarnation is she goin' on about?" Applejack muttered.

"I-I don't know," Twilight said in a quavering voice. "Surely even she realizes--"

"She's moving!" Starlight cried.

"Right at the humans with the big guns??" Rainbow cried. "Is she out of her mind?!"

Twilight had to move closer to believe what her eyes were telling her. "Sunset, stop! You're supposed to stand--!"

She was drowned out by the amplified voice. "Sunset Shimmer, this is your final warning! Stop at once, or we will open fire!! I repeat, do not move, do not use magic--"

Sunset's horn began to glow.

"She's insane," Starlight said in a hollow voice. "She's got to be."

"Hang on," said Rarity. "Is that just a simple light spell?"

Twilight had sensed that as well, and with dawning horror she realized what Sunset was trying to do.

A second later, a thunderous roar rose as the soldiers fired.

They were met with a shield.

It was not of Sunset's doing.

Sunset blinked and stared at the purple energy which shimmered around her, bursts of light flaring as wasted ammunition was detonated or deflected. Sunset tried to push out of it, only to find that it followed her.

She whirled around. "Twily, what are you doing?!"

Twilight's horn blazed. Her mane and tail moved as if a wind were pushing them. Her eyes were brilliant white. Her friends shouted towards her, but she could barely make out their voices over the constant roar from both the humans' guns and the power she commanded. "I'm not letting you do this, Aunt Sunset! I'm not letting you kill yourself!"

"This is my choice to make!" Sunset roared. "Not yours!"

Despite standing this close, Twilight could barely hear Sunset. She cast another spell, and her amplified voice boomed out, "I BEG OF YOU TO STOP FIRING AND LET ME SPEAK WITH SUNSET! I AM NOT LOWERING MY SHIELD UNTIL YOU GIVE ME THIS CHANCE!"

And, miraculously, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in her ears.

"Aunt Sunset--" Twilight started.

"Just leave me alone!" Sunset screamed. "I've had enough."

"You don't need to do this!"

"You keep saying that, and it makes no more sense now than it did when you first said it," Sunset said. "I know all about you turning me over to the humans. You and I know what will happen in the end."

"It might not be that way," Twilight pleaded, though even she knew the chances of Sunset living through a guilty verdict were very slim. "But they are the best ones to judge you."

"I will not be judged by them. I will not be judged by you. I will not be judged by Celestia, or my mother, or anypony else from our family. I, and I alone, will be my judge."

Twilight saw the tears welling up in Sunset's eyes. "If you've come to realize what you've done is wrong, it doesn't mean you have to end your life."

"And as I thought, you leapt to the wrong conclusion," said Sunset as she wiped an eye. "The problem is, Twily, I don't know if I was wrong. I am a complete failure."

"Nopony is a failure, no matter what they've done."

Sunset continued as if Twilight had not spoken. "I failed at my plans. I failed to find a way to protect Equestria into the future. I failed Celestia. I failed my mother. I failed you. Most of all, I failed myself. I have no clue who or what I am supposed to be now. I have all these people telling me what I should feel about what I've done, and no way to make it the way I want to feel about it."

"These things take time," Twilight said, but she realized the irony of her own words.

"Time I don't have," Sunset said in a lower voice. "Either way, I'm going to die. I'll die being the same pony I am now. Why delay the inevitable?"

"All ponies can change!" Twilight thrust a hoof towards her friends. "Look at them! Every last one of them has changed themselves for the better. Look at Starlight. She started out as an enemy, and now she's not only my dear friend, she's my student. If she can do it, you can as well!"

Sunset cast her gaze at Twilight's friends, and she let out a slow sigh. "The problem is, Twily, that they wanted to change. I'm not at that point yet. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I'll have time. And even if I do, what good will it do me?"

"If you really want the chance, you can do something that will prove to them you want to change, and maybe they'll give you that time," Twilight declared. "Help me. Help me stop the ongoing transformations. Help me find a way to change the transformed back to human. You're a powerful mage, I know you can do these things!"

Sunset gave her a humorless smile. "And therein lies the problem. I need that desire for change. I need to want to help you. Everypony who pegged me as a cold and calculating pony were absolutely right. All I can see is the chance that if things continue as they are now, my plans still have a chance at success. I've been in this mode for so long, I can't just step out of it all at once."

"All I am asking is to give yourself a chance," said Twilight in a desperate voice. "Yes, it might not work out in the end, but isn't a slim chance better than no chance at all?"

Sunset glanced around. "Did it strike you as odd, Twily, that the soldiers were so willing to stop firing at your request?"

"They did so because they trust me," Twilight said.

Sunset returned her gaze to Twilight. "Anyway, I suppose taking the slim chance over no chance is a measured calculation befitting my persona, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, I would," said Twilight with relief.

"And here is another calculation, though I imagine it won't appear as such at first," said Sunset. "Apply the Starswirl Reverse Tensor technique on the original spell matrix in the device."

Twilight blinked. "Huh? What will that do?"

"Reveal a means to slow the accelerated transformations I triggered earlier."

Twilight gasped. "It's that simple??"

"Triggering the acceleration too early is dangerous, so naturally it would have a simple means to reverse it. You would've figured it out yourself with enough time."

Twilight smiled. "Thank you! I knew you could find it in you to help. Will you come quietly now?"

"I will. Under one condition."

"Condition?"

"Don't sedate me."

"But--"

"How am I to have the time contemplating what I have done if I'm unconscious the whole time?" said Sunset. "That doesn't make any sense. I'll submit to the unmarking, but not the sedation."

"I don't know if I have the power to negotiate that," Twilight said.

"Try," Sunset said. "But in the meantime, lower the shield as a mark of good faith."

Twilight desperately wanted to trust Sunset now that there was a chance she might redeem herself somehow. She knew it was a long shot herself. Her mind raced with possibilities on how this could be some sort of trick. Sunset knew Twilight could offer no guarantees, and that she might have to be sedated anyway. There was nothing more Sunset could do once unmarked.

"Starlight, come over here, please," said Twilight.

Starlight cantered over, giving first Twilight and then Sunset a dubious look.

"I'm going to lower the shield. You're to cast your unmarking spell on her at once."

"Got it," said Starlight as her horn started to glow.

Twilight turned to Sunset. "I'm sorry it has to be this way."

Sunset smiled faintly. "So am I. And, Twily?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for giving me a choice after all."

Twilight smiled, though something seemed off about Sunset's voice. She dispelled the shield, and she sensed Starlight beginning to cast a spell that was never completed.

The distant crack came almost at the same time that Sunset's chest exploded. Twilight flinched, her coat splattered with crimson, the coppery stench of Sunset's blood filling her nostrils as Sunset fell.

"NO!!" Twilight screamed as she dived for the ground next to her Aunt.

Sunset heaved a liquid breath as blood bubbled from her lips, joining that pooling on the grass from the open wound in her chest. "Th-this is for the best, Twily," Sunset wheezed. "I knew th-they wouldn't n ... neg ..."

Her body stilled. Her eyes stared lifelessly forward.

Twilight's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide and glistening. Behind her came a gurgling noise followed by the sound of a pony vomiting to the grass. Her own gorge would not rise. She felt nothing but utter shock, like this had to be a nightmare, and she simply awaited the arrival of Princess Luna to dispel it.

Footsteps approached. "I'm sorry, Twilight."

Twilight's head snapped up, and her gaze fell on Anthony Heller.

"This wasn't something we--" Anthony began.

Twilight leapt to her hooves and snapped out her wings. "WHY DID YOU DO THIS?! She was coming along peacefully!"

"Twilight, we heard everything Sunset said," Anthony said in a strained voice. "She was in no position to negotiate, and she refused sedation."

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL HER!" Twilight roared.

"This decision was not mine to make!" Anthony said. "We were both told that it was too risky to give her any sort of leeway."

"She was willing to meet you partway. She even gave me some help. She was willing to compromise. That's how it works on my world!"

Anthony sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "And sometimes it does on our world as well, but we couldn't take even the smallest chance she would be free to disrupt recovery efforts. Again, I did not make this decision, Twilight, it was made for me, and it was done out of defense of humanity."

Twilight wanted to rage at him. She wanted to rage at the humans who were so scared that they felt they had to pass summary judgment, that they didn't stop to think that just maybe Sunset could be made to see her mistakes.

But then she remembered the most recent numbers Sandra gave her of people who would could become full ponies, knowing full well that thanks to Sunset, 'could' had become 'will' for at least some of them despite the tiny scrap of knowledge Sunset had tossed her way. Maybe even that was a lie.

She went over Sunset's own actions and her last words. Sunset knew they wouldn't negotiate the point about sedation. Of course she knew. She's been on this planet for over twenty years. She knew the humans better than anypony. It made sense. This was all Sunset's doing, her own decisions, right to the very end.

Judgment had indeed been passed, and it had been done by Sunset herself. Just as she never willingly gave up control of events, she refused to give up control of her ultimate destiny. It relieved Twilight of the burden of having to follow through on her decision. It took a dangerous variable out of the equation and would let her focus completely on recovery.

Yet when she looked down at Sunset, all she could see was a once beloved family member who now lay dead.

Twilight fell to her haunches and wailed her grief to the heavens. Her friends rushed over to her, but Starlight got there first, and she drew Twilight into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Twilight," Starlight said in a shaky voice, her body trembling almost as much. "I'm so sorry."

"It didn't have to happen this way," Twilight cried as tears streamed down her face. "Wh-why couldn't I make her see reason?"

"I don't believe this!" Rainbow Dash yelled. "They just killed her?! We never did that to an enemy before! Never!"

"Twilight destroyed Sombra," Rarity said in a soft voice.

"Yeah, but ... you can't ... that's different!"

"In a way, it's not," Rarity declared. "Sunset and Sombra brought on their own demise. Sombra gave Twilight no choice, and Sunset ..." She let out a windy sigh. "... made her own decision."

"I-I shouldn't have let this happen," Twilight whimpered. "I sh-should have seen what she was trying to do."

"I reckon nothin' woulda changed that pony's mind," said Applejack. "It's not yer fault, Twi."

"No, it's not," said Star Singer in a quavering voice. She wiped away tears with the back of her hoof. "You couldn't protect her from herself forever, and the humans can't control her without putting her under, which she refused to submit to."

Twilight lifted her head. "But if I had devoted time to figuring out a way to contain her--!"

"Then you wouldn't have had time to work on distributing the counterspell," said Starlight. "You can only do so much."

"I-if I brought Celestia here, she'd have the power to--"

"And bring another all-powerful pony into their midst? Yeah, that would've gone over well, considering how much trouble you had getting them to agree to using Rainbow Power."

"Not to mention she'd probably get shot at as well," Rainbow muttered.

"Rainbow, now is not the time," Rarity snapped.

Twilight realized two of her friends had not chimed in, and when she looked past the others, she saw Pinkie Pie standing beside a rather pale Fluttershy, a puddle of pony sick in the grass nearby.

"I'm the last one ta ever tell somepony not to grieve fer a loved one's passin'," said Applejack. "But tomorrow mornin' ya gotta be ready ta cast that counterspell. The humans are countin' on ya."

Twilight took a deep breath and wiped her face with the back of her fore-hooves. She looked towards the soldiers who still ringed the clearing. She wanted to resent them for what they had done, but she had trouble summoning up the rage. They were protecting the existence of their species. How could she fault them for that?

Her lingering guilt over the death of Sombra seemed almost trivial by comparison.

She turned to face the others. "You're right, Applejack. And there's even more at stake now. Casting the counterspell is only the tip of the iceberg."

"We'll be here for you," Rarity said.

Twilight saw Pinkie and Fluttershy approaching. "Are you all right, Fluttershy?"

"I think so," Fluttershy said in an even more whispery voice than usual. "I'm so sorry, I just couldn't ..."

Pinkie wrapped a fore-leg around her friend and squeezed gently, her mane partially deflated. She nevertheless gave Fluttershy a small smile. "It's okay. Things will get better."

"Yes, they will," Twilight said. "They have to."
> Chapter 53 - Reconsideration
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laura stared at the crackling remains of the fire which stood in the center of a group of about a dozen tents. A breeze rose, and she shivered despite having flown in much colder air when helping build the storm earlier. Her instinctual pony diurnal rhythm urged her to retire for the night, but she maintained her silent and solitary vigil. Josie had offered companionship, but for the first time since becoming a pony, Laura wanted to be alone.

Or at least she had convinced herself of that. She still occasionally raised her eyes towards the tent where her family lay asleep, and she longed for the comforting warmth of their presence. It might help her sleep, but she would just wake up with the same turmoil in her head.

At least the Secret Service agents had finally retreated far enough that she could no longer see them. They had been watching her like a hawk until they received a call, and then they just slipped away.

The sound of pegasus wings overhead made her look up. She strained to see in the darkness, but all she made out was a fast-moving silhouette against the stars. Only when the pegasus winged down and hovered beside her could she see any detail.

"Um, hi," said the pegasus mare. "Mind if I join you for a bit?"

Laura wanted to tell her no, but pony instinct said otherwise. "It's fine."

The pegasus landed and sat beside her. The fading embers of the fire were enough to highlight her rainbow-hued hair. "You're Laura, right?" the mare asked.

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm Rainbow Dash."

Laura hesitated. "You're one of the alien ponies?"

"Yeah, you could say that." She smiled. "I'm told you did something pretty amazing earlier today."

Laura glanced at her cutie mark, the final legacy from a friend who perhaps never was one in the first place. "I guess so."

"You guess? Hey, what you did was awesome considering you've been doing weather control for, what, two or three days? And if anypony knows about awesomeness, it's me."

Laura returned to staring at the remnants of the fire. "Maybe you should be praising Sunset for that instead."

"Hey, now, just because she put you into this situation doesn't mean you can't make the best out of it."

That had been the thought behind Laura's final words to Sunset, but she wondered how she would ever live up to it. She was well aware of how others looked to her as a leader, and now she felt she hadn't even earned it. They constantly marveled at her cutie mark, and she had heard excited whispers from them about what theirs might be like. She had inspired them to wish for something that might be meaningless in the end.

"No offense, but I'm not sure you're one to talk about it," Laura said. "You've been a pony all your life. Nopony handed you whatever abilities you have."

Rainbow was quiet for a long moment before she said in a soft voice, "I guess that depends on how you look at it."

Laura turned her head and gazed at Rainbow's magenta eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Sure, in my world, I'm pretty awesome," said Rainbow with a faint smile. "Fastest in my flight class, first one to ever do a sonic rainboom, and all that. And, yeah, a lot of that I felt I earned. But you know what? My family's had several really strong fliers in the past. And look what my parents named me: Rainbow Dash. So who's to say how much is genetics or destiny?"

"I'm not sure that's really the same thing," Laura said, though her conviction was weak. She was desperate to latch onto anything that would convince her that what she felt about herself and her abilities was justified. All the praise from her friends and family was not enough, as they came from the same biased perspective as herself. "Your genetics and background didn't define you."

"No, they didn't," said Rainbow. "And if I hadn't put in a lot of hard work over the years, I wouldn't be where I am now. But it gave me a starting point to build on."

Laura remained silent for a long moment. She glanced back at the fire, which was no more than some glowing coals, the tents only shadows. She felt an exhaustion that went beyond the mere physical, but she had press on to get past this. "What about Fluttershy?"

"Same thing," Rainbow said. "Except in her case, she was a weak flier. Not much in the way of speed in her family tree, either. Yet that helped her figure out that her future lay somewhere other than in the clouds. Look, I'm not saying that she couldn't have improved her flying if she really worked at it, but it kinda went against who she is."

"That's just it, I'm not sure who I am anymore," Laura said. "How much of this is me and how much did Sunset manufacture?"

"I really can't answer that. I'm not the egghead like Twilight is, and I don't think even she knows."

"My mother met Twilight. She told my mother to seek her own destiny. I thought I was doing the same thing." Laura turned back to Rainbow. "When I got my cutie mark, I thought that was the final answer. I thought that had ended all debate. I hate the idea that I feel like I have to re-examine everything."

"You wouldn't be the first pony to still have questions after getting their mark."

"I just don't want to have questions in the first place." Laura sighed. "The analogy you made about genetics makes total sense to me, but is that because I really believe that, or do I want to latch onto the first thing that comes along so I can move on?"

"Maybe it doesn't matter," Rainbow said. "I, uh, don't know if anypony's told this to you or not, but getting a cutie mark is sort of the last stop. You can't change back after that."

"I wasn't told, but I had a feeling that was the case anyway," Laura said in a low voice. "I'm not looking to change back. I just want my life to be mine. I wish I could talk to Sunset one more time. Is that even possible?"

Rainbow's gaze turned somber. "Laura ... Sunset is gone."

Laura's eyes widened, and her heart sank. "She didn't just leave or something like that, did she?"

"No, she's ... she's passed on. I'm sorry."

Laura swallowed hard. Her eyes started to well up, but she managed to hold back enough to avoid crying.

"I didn't come here to tell you all this," said Rainbow. "I hadn't actually expected you to be awake. Twilight had asked me to check on you, and when I saw you here, I thought I would talk to you. Maybe I shouldn't have done this, I was never good at talking about stuff like this."

Laura shook her head. "No, it's fine," she said, her voice catching. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "I shouldn't be reacting this way. After everything she did to our family, I should be hating her. I should be glad she's gone."

"Hate never gets anypony anywhere," said Rainbow. "And you don't strike me as the kind of pony who could really hate anyone."

"I don't. I never did, even before I became a pony."

"There, see? There's something that was yours all along. Sunset didn't have to make you feel that." Rainbow paused and rubbed a hoof through her mane. "Don't get me wrong when I say this, but maybe Sunset, um, going away is for the best."

Laura gave her a perplexed look. "How do you figure that?"

"She's the past. She's old news. Maybe you sorta clung to her at first, but you don't need her anymore. You can be your own person from here on."

"I just don't know how. I have all these new things I can do that I still want to do, but is that all I'll ever want? Is that enough?"

"You're not gonna get the answers moping by a dying fire," said Rainbow.

"I know, but the sky will always be there, like it's calling to me. I can see me losing myself to the sensation of flying and power over the weather."

Rainbow chuckled. "I hate to burst your bubble, kid, but even though what you've already done is pretty awesome for a pony with little experience, that's all you have right now: a very little experience."

"I know that, but--"

"No, I don't think you do," said Rainbow in a more serious voice. "Creating a few clouds and making it rain is just the start. If we were in Equestria, I wouldn't let you near Sweet Apple Acres until you were trained up more. That's my friend Applejack's place. Only the best weather fliers handle that area."

"What's your point?" Laura said in a tired voice.

"Becoming a weather pegasus is easy. Becoming a really good weather pegasus is hard. It takes a lot of work. Not every pegasus who trains for it makes the cut."

Laura tilted her head. "Are you telling me this because you're trying to discourage me from wanting to pursue it?"

"No, just the opposite. I think you should keep at it."

"Why? With everypony else trying to tell me I should stop thinking like a pony, let alone a pegasus?"

"Because that's the only way you're gonna know whether you really want it or not," Rainbow said. "When this mess is over, I'm planning on volunteering to set up a training program for any humans-turned-pegasi. And I'm going to be just as hard on you guys as I am on pegasi back home."

Laura lapsed into a thoughtful silence. In the encroaching darkness from the smoldering embers, Rainbow was little more than a shadowy outline.

"It's going to be really grueling at first," Rainbow continued. "To put it bluntly, you've had it easy so far. Maybe Sunset did give you these abilities and skills, but from this point on, you're gonna have to earn it on your own."

Laura considered for a long moment before she ventured in a soft voice, "And if I don't make it?"

"Then you find something else you want to do," said Rainbow. "In either case, you would've gotten there yourself. That's what you want, isn't it? To feel like you've earned it? To feel like you have something because you did it and not because Sunset gave it to you?"

Laura uttered a long sigh. "Just a day ago, I felt like everything had cleared up for me, that my future was no longer in question. I guess I hadn't realized that all I wanted was an easy answer, an easy out for my problems."

"Twilight told me that she talked to a human who was reluctant to take the counterspell," said Rainbow. "She told the woman that becoming a pony won't solve all her problems."

"I just don't want to go back to the way it was," said Laura. "I have friends now, for one thing, and I feel closer to my family than I have in years."

"Who says you have to give that up? I don't see anything wrong with taking advantage of what Sunset gave you."

"I guess I'm just afraid of what will happen to them, if maybe they won't want to be into this as much as I am," Laura said.

"Friends don't have to do the same thing all the time to still be friends, Laura," said Rainbow. "My friends are proof of that. You won't see Fluttershy with the Wonderbolts anytime soon, but she's still one of my best friends."

Laura realized then that she was falling into the same old habits despite the apparently rosy picture her life had become. Before, she didn't want to shake things up because she was afraid of making things worse. Now she was afraid of losing everything she had gained, even if most of it was given to her.

That was what scared her the most, that the only reason she was where she was now was because of another's guiding hoof, that she never could have done it on her own, and certainly not maintain it by herself. When she nearly cried over hearing of Sunset's demise, it was not only because of the passing of a once dear friend, but because it terrified her. Sunset had given her everything she had, and part of her believed it would all collapse now with Sunset gone.

"Hey, it's getting really late," said Rainbow. "You must be tired. I know I am."

Laura rose to her hooves. "Yes, I really need some sleep. But ... thanks for talking to me, Rainbow Dash. I guess I have a lot of thinking to do."

Rainbow might have smiled, it was hard for Laura to tell in the dark. The alien pegasus dispelled the doubt when she pulled Laura into a hug. "Whatever you do, Laura, just promise me you'll keep being awesome, okay?"

Laura giggled faintly. "I will. And, um ... I just might show up for that training you mentioned."

"You better! I want to see what you've got."

Laura smiled and hugged Rainbow back before turning towards her family's tent. She actually hoped one day she could properly grieve for Sunset. Despite what she had done, nopony deserved to be forgotten.

But like everything else in her life to come, it had to be on her own terms.





Josie watched from a distance as Laura finally retired for the night, and the strange pegasus flew off. Her ears drooped. As much as she looked forward to stepping into the dream world and helping other ponies have a peaceful night's sleep, she had learned that it was best to wait until after midnight. Until then, she often craved companionship. She had been told that other night ponies would be arriving in the settlement in another week or so. She could hardly wait.

She took to patrolling the perimeter of the settlement in those hours leading up to her dreamwalking. It felt like the right thing to do despite the fact that she was not suited for any sort of combat. Yet being able to delve into ponies' heads while they slept and rouse them to wakefulness almost all at once was a huge advantage against any threat.

Her ears suddenly flicked up, and she jerked her head around, hovering in place as she swept her gaze to where she thought she had heard a noise. Her night vision revealed a pony in the distance, flanked by several humans. Soon the humans departed, and the pony approached.

Josie's eyes widened. This pony stood taller than any she had seen before. She had a horn longer than any of the unicorns she knew, and she had wings as well. Josie sniffed; the pony was a mare. As the mare approached, Josie felt something impinging on her magical senses, as if this pony herself were like Josie but with far more power than she had ever seen.

The mare lighted her horn. Josie's gaze fell upon a coat of midnight blue, and a mane that flowed with stars. Large teal eyes regarded her with a friendly gaze. Upon her haunches was a crescent moon set against a splotch of black.

"Hello, Josie," said the mare.

Josie tilted her head as she settled on her hooves. "This is weird. Are you a night pony?"

"Yes, in a way."

"You look different than me." Josie's gaze rose to the mare's horn. "Very different."

The mare smiled. "May I talk to you for a bit?"

"Of course." Josie sat down. "But who are you?"

"I am Pri ... ah ... I am called Luna."

As Luna sat down, Josie was again made very much aware of this pony's power. She immediately felt a kinship with Luna, perhaps almost as much as with the mare who had appeared in the vision. "I don't recall ever seeing or sensing you before, and I thought I had managed to contact all the night ponies from the dreamworld."

"I will be honest with you," said Luna. "I am not from around here."

It didn't take long for Josie to piece it together. "You're from the same world as those other ponies who were talking to us earlier."

"I am."

Josie had admitted to getting a bit upset with the two who had tried to talk to her, and she didn't want to feel the same towards this pony. Nevertheless, Josie had to honest as well. "With all due respect, I hope you're not going to try to convince me to do something I don't want to do."

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Luna. "No pun intended."

Josie relaxed somewhat.

"In fact, I've been told you've done a commendable job," Luna continued. "On my world, you could say that I'm in charge of the night ponies there, and I have the same abilities."

"Yes, I thought I had sensed that in you." Josie considered. "Are you going to do the same thing here? Take charge of us?"

"No, but I did want to offer some guidance and make a request."

Josie grew wary again. One of the things the humans had insisted she do was to stop the vision from propagating, which she flat out refused to do. As much as she felt respect and even a measure of awe for Luna, she did not want to be forced to tell her no as well. Yet Josie remained quiet and simply nodded for Luna to continue.

"As I mentioned, you've been doing a wonderful job in helping keep other ponies safe and happy," said Luna. "I could not have asked for any more from my own night ponies."

Josie gave Luna a small smile. "Thank you, but does that include the vision as well?"

"It does. There's certainly nothing wrong with wanting your fellow ponies to have a happy and productive future."

Josie hoped she could take that as more of an endorsement of the vision than the other alien ponies were willing to do. All they talked about was how the vision had its "good points" while at the same time trying to shoot it down. She felt like she was being given the runaround. "Then you're not going to tell me to stop spreading it?"

"Not at all," said Luna. "But I do wish you to amend it somewhat."

"How?"

"Realize that you will be sharing this world with humans. This is something all ponies should be reminded of."

"Oh, but none of us have any animosity towards them whatsoever."

Luna smiled gently. "I never said you did. But sometimes apathy can be just as bad."

"I don't understand."

"The way the vision is presented, it makes it seem that there are only ponies, and that only ponies matter," said Luna. "It is very important to understand that humans are here as well, and will likely want to continue interacting with pony communities."

Josie considered this for a long moment. "But ... will humans actually matter to us? I don't mean that in bad way. The whole point of this community was so we wouldn't be a burden to them."

"And that is also a very commendable attitude," said Luna. "But it doesn't mean ponies need to isolate themselves."

"I thought that might be what the humans want anyway," said Josie. "From the way they've been reacting, they're afraid of what we've become and what we can do."

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. "Josie, have you ever been in a situation where you felt isolated from others?"

Josie wanted to simply proclaim "not anymore," but she felt enough respect for this pony to want to give a more detailed answer. "Yes. I had really bad night terrors once."

"So I've been told."

"When they got really bad, I didn't feel like talking to anypony. I just wanted to be left alone."

"And how did that make your friends feel?" Luna asked.

"They didn't feel good about it. In fact ... one resented me for it. It wasn't like it was my fault! I couldn't control the fact that I had these terrible night terrors!"

"Did you ever explain to them what was happening to you?"

Josie averted her eyes. "No, I was too embarrassed."

"This is what I am talking about," said Luna. "You and your friends cannot control the fact that you're ponies now and very different from the humans. If something isn't done, if some sort of contact is not maintained, it could lead to that very same resentment that you and your friends experienced."

"I guess ... I guess I hadn't thought of it that way before," said Josie. She sighed. "I'm a little confused right now. All I wanted to do was make sure no pony ever has to go through what I did."

Luna wrapped a wing around Josie. "What you need to realize is that being a night pony is a large responsibility. If you seek to impart a message, you must be very careful how you craft it. I realize in this case you were given a vision to relay, but that doesn't mean it has to remain static. I am not telling you to stop your vision, merely improve it."

Josie shuddered slightly. She had not wanted to stop and think about just how many ponies were sharing her vision, yet each time she reached out into the dreamscape, more night ponies answered her. Like Laura with the pegasi, Josie was being looked up to as a sort of de-facto leader. 

"I'll do my best, Luna," said Josie in a slightly quavering voice. "And thank you for being the first to not use the term 'brainwashing' when talking to me about this."

Luna smiled and gave Josie a wing-hug. "There is one more matter to discuss. You are aware that the humans are trying to prevent any more of their kind from becoming ponies?"

"Yes, I am."

"A plan has been conceived to help stop it from spreading further, but it involves the crystal ponies."

Josie tilted her head. "You mean those glassy-haired ones?"

"Yes, and it is important they be informed as to what will happen," said Luna. "And, hopefully, to consent to it."

Josie swallowed. "Th-this is beginning to sound a little too daunting. I'm not sure I can do this, not by myself."

Luna's smile widened, and she held up a fore-hoof. "Who says you have to?"

Josie glanced at the proffered hoof and tentatively raised her own. They touched, and Josie gasped as she felt a surge of power flow through her.

"We'll enter the dreamscape together," said Luna. "If you're willing to accept my help."

Only in that moment did Josie realize just how truly powerful this creature was. She could likely command the dreamscape in ways Josie could only barely fathom. She suddenly ached to know what this pony could do, what Josie herself could possibly do as well.

"Yes, please," Josie said in an eager and awed voice.





Early the next morning, Bob's horn glowed as he nudged a branch out of the way a short distance from the unofficial edge of the settlement but still well within the human-designated borders. Their caretakers -- quickly becoming former caretakers as pony abilities took over -- had at least anticipated that more ponies would be arriving from nearby towns in the emergency zone. He had also overheard earlier that other settlements were being created.

"Here it is," said Bob as he emerged into a tiny clearing. "This is where we found it."

Sarah followed close behind him and surveyed the area with a slow sweep of her eyes. When she advanced, it was only after she had confirmed that nothing lay in her path that her hooves might damage.

"It can't be an Ancestral Puebloan camp," said Bob. "I don't think they came quite this far north."

"No, the shard you showed me the other day was definitely not that ancient," said Sarah. "Certainly not from the cliff-dwelling period. But if there is more here, and it wasn't just dropped by passing American settlers, I want somepony to know about it so they can designate this an archaeological site."

Bob smiled. While this was not quite like coming with Sarah to a dig -- something he had really enjoyed the few times he got to do it as a human -- it still filled him with a sense of wonder. He couldn't forget how excited Sarah was yesterday when she first saw the shard, at least before she got distracted about Sunny escaping.

His smile faded a bit. By then, he had been informed of Sunny's demise. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, other than it helped reinforce his own doubts about the rosy future presented in the vision. With Sunny out of the picture for good, he couldn't imagine that a worldwide pony society would be possible anymore.

Sarah stopped. "There's something in the dirt here. I'm not sure I want to try to grab it in my magic unless it's been worked free a bit." She sighed. "I wish I had a simple trowel with me."

"Uh, Aunt Sarah?" Bob said as he trotted forward. "You kind of already have one. Several, in fact." He demonstrated by pressing a fore-hoof into the ground and sweeping back, digging a shallow furrow.

"Oh, um, yes," Sarah said, blushing faintly. "I've been so focused on my horn and magic that all I thought my hooves were good for were just getting me around."

Bob watched as Sarah delicately placed a fore-hoof near what Bob could only barely see, and in his mind looked no different from a pointed rock. Yet as Sarah scraped away more earth, even his untrained eyes could see that it was clearly something else.

Sarah stopped digging, and the shard glowed. It wobbled as Sarah carefully worked it loose and lifted it closer to her eyes. "Yes, this looks similar to the one you showed me yesterday. This may very well be a Native American site. I wonder if the old stream bed that Laura and her friends had filled yesterday was the reason they stopped here. It may have flowed more reliably in the past."

"So you think this is worth investigating?"

Sarah turned to him, still levitating the pottery shard. "Definitely! I'd love to keep looking myself, but ..." She trailed off and looked back the way they had come.

"Of course you can, Aunt Sarah," said Bob. "We got everything covered back at the settlement. We can spare you for a while."

"I was thinking of Laura," said Sarah. "She was upset last night, and I don't think she came to bed until really late, since she wasn't up with everypony else."

"She'll be okay. A bunch of those alien ponies are around, and they seem to want to help."

"Is Twilight here?"

"I haven't seen a purple pony with both wings and horn, no."

"I really hope to be able to see her again."

As Sarah spoke, Bob's ears swiveled back. "I hear somepony calling me. I better get back. I'll tell the others you'll be gone for a bit."

Sarah smiled and gave Bob a brief hug. "Thank you."

Bob smiled in return before turning and galloping away.

He admitted to some mixed feelings concerning his aunt's renewed interest in archaeology. He remembered how upon getting her cutie mark, Laura had been overjoyed, and just as quickly spiraled back into depression. He doubted there was a direct connection between the two, but it disturbed him nonetheless.

That, and a distinct sense of permanence surrounded getting a cutie mark.

He returned to the settlement to find Emma and Joan hovering before him. "Bob, have you seen Laura?" Emma asked.

"We tried asking your father, but he went off to tend to the field where the earth ponies are planning to plant crops," said Joan.

"She was still sleeping when I last saw her," Bob said. "She had a trying night. Why do you need to see her?"

"Well, part of the reason is that we were going to make a light rain shower this morning as the earth ponies said the dirt is just a bit too dry, and Laura likes to do that stuff," Emma said.

"Not to mention being damn good at it," said Joan.

"But we had another reason we wanted to see her."

"Seems we had a new arrival late yesterday, but in all the excitement, they never had a chance to meet."

Then a new and achingly familiar female voice rose from behind them. "Oh, but I certainly wouldn't mind meeting Bob."

Bob's heart lurched. "What ... Tina??"

Emma and Joan parted. Just behind them stood a pegasus filly with a deep green coat, just a shade darker than Bob's own, and bright cornflower yellow hair. Two large and deeply blue eyes regarded him, her lips curling into a smile. Her wings lay neatly folded against her sides.

Bob rushed forward in a torrent of pony instinct and perhaps a touch of male hormones, but he skidded to a sudden stop before her, hooves kicking up small puffs of dust. He blushed faintly and said, "Oh, um, hi, Tina, it's good to see you a---"

Tina smiled and threw her fore-legs around him, drawing him into a tight hug. Bob breathed in her scent and let out a contented sigh. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed her.

Emma giggled. "We'll, ah, leave you two alone for now."

Bob wanted to protest that it wasn't quite like that, but he was reluctant to leave the embrace. When Tina finally let go, Emma and Joan had already flown off. "Actually, I did want to see you first," Tina said in a soft voice. "It was just when you weren't around, we went looking for Laura."

"I'm sorry I didn't try to call you again."

"Hey, stop worrying, okay? Not exactly easy to use a cell phone with hooves, you know."

Bob was getting good enough with his horn that he could have manipulated a stylus to make a call, but he simply had too many other things on his mind. He suppressed the urge to apologize again. "You're looking ... um ... nice."

Tina chuckled. "Well, I hope so. My transformation sort of took off about halfway through. Tail to wings to hooves in almost nothing flat.

"How are your parents doing?"

"Oh, they're just fine. Boy, what a mixed bag we are. Dad's a unicorn and Mom's an earth pony."

"Same with Dad and Aunt Sarah, but reversed," Bob said. "Jenny's an earth pony and you know about Laura."

"I'm looking forward to seeing Laura again," said Tina. She extended her wings. "I'm hoping she can teach me how to use these things better. I can fly pretty well, but I've been hearing some amazing things about Laura. Even her friends were doing things that just made my jaw drop when I met them."

Bob knew he should probably warn Tina about Laura's disposition, but he was too taken with just being in Tina's presence. He had thought her attractive before their transformation, but she was absolutely stunning now. Maybe it was just the nice contrast in the bright and dark colors. With as colorful as most ponies tended to be and their wide field of vision, it made sense that mating cues would be partially visual in nature.

Tina tilted her head. "What is it?"

Bob blinked. "Huh? Oh, um. nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Tina smirked. "Then why are you blushing?"

Bob swore he had visualized that last conclusion in his head from a wholly objective perspective, just like he had been trying to do with everything related to his life. He wanted to come to terms with his transformation in his own way and not just accept it at face value.

"Or maybe you're thinking about me holding you to that promise of a date," Tina said in a voice half-teasing, half-affectionate.

Now Bob was more cognizant of his resulting blush. Yes, he was quite looking forward to spending more time with Tina now that nothing held them apart. He wanted a relationship with her, yet how much was his own desire prior to his transformation, and how much of it was being boosted by pony hormones?

That he had managed to argue with the mare in his vision had helped him feel a little more grounded, like he could see in his head what was really his and what had been imposed on him. Just as it had when he was human, the opposite sex threatened to throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

Some things never change.

Bob turned more fully towards Tina. "I just want to go slow, that's all. I've never done this -- dating, I mean -- as any species."

"Oh, definitely," Tina said. "Yeah, I'm not looking to dive into anything too deep right now."

Bob breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Hey, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

Bob quickly shook his head and smiled. He wanted to explain it to her, but he felt it would ruin the moment. So his feelings may be typical and not driven due to his change in species. He might have felt this way even as a human had they decided to date before any of this ever happened. He had to accept that he had some control over his fate, or he'd keep spinning around in circles of logic.

"Dad's busy all the way on the side of the settlement with the crop fields, but Aunt Sarah is nearby. You want to meet her?"

Tina smiled. "I'd be happy to."

Bringing a potential girlfriend to meet his mother; that felt typical. It even felt vaguely normal. He could go for some of that right now.





Much to his surprise, Harold had little trouble finding Doctor Kevin Conner. All the humans assigned to observing the settlement had retreated to the sidelines, consisting of little more than physicians he met only in passing or security detail that may as well be faceless. He thought he would have a devil of a time having a chance to talk to the man.

Instead, Harold found his former family physician wandering through the midst of the settlement. "Is it just me, or are you hanging out with us more, Doctor Conner?" Harold asked.

Kevin gave him a soft smile. "It's not just you, and you can call me Kevin. I'm not really qualified to be your physician anymore."

As much as Harold could understand the reasons why, it did feel a bit sad. Even though he was usually too reluctant to see a doctor himself, he appreciated what the man did for his family. "So what have you been doing?" Harold asked.

"Since I know so many of the ponies in this settlement, I've been asked to be a liaison of sorts," said Kevin. He chuckled briefly. "You could say I've switched from medicine to diplomacy. It also helps that I'm immune to ETS."

"I thought we stopped being infectious awhile ago."

"True, but government types are paid to be on the cautious side. It's not like they had to force me to do this."

Harold liked the idea that this was something Kevin wanted to do. Sarah had finally conveyed to him what Jenny had told her the other day, which explained Laura's odd behavior lately. He had to admit that it made him start to rethink matters as well. He still wanted to return to farming, but he had to make absolutely sure it came from his own head before he committed to it longer term. He and Jenny would likely have some long conversations about it.

"That sort of leads me to why I was looking for you," Harold said.

"If there's anything I can do to help, I would be happy to."

"Can you find a way to reach my father and my sister?"

Kevin looked thoughtful. "That would be George and Mary Tanner, right?"

"Yeah. They live near Grand Junction. I haven't been able to talk to them for a few days now."

Harold didn't mention that it was more that he had not wanted to contact them. It had taken that talk with Applejack to remind him that they were as important as the ponies in the settlement. Hearing what Jenny had gone through only made him more adamant to reach them.

"Unfortunately, the cell phone network is still unavailable for civilians," said Kevin.

"I know, but I was hoping you had military contacts who would help. I just want some sort of word as to how they're doing, even if I can't talk to them myself right now."

Kevin considered. "I will be honest with you, Harry. Grand Junction was one of the harder hit areas concerning ETS."

This gave Harold pause. He had not considered what state his father and sister would be in. Would they be ponies like him by now? In a way, that would make things easier. He could relate to them better. It was bad enough that a gulf of attitude separated him from his father, he didn't need a species difference as well.

Or was that just some mental conditioning that had come with his transformation? He had thought his future clear, until first Applejack made him question his priorities, and Jenny made him question his very thoughts. He envied Laura in a way; despite having had some sort of emotional upheaval in the past day, she still seemed set on what she wanted to do with her life. Only her attitude towards it had changed.

"Then I really do want to find out what happened to them," said Harold. "I'd consider just going myself once the settlement is up and running, but that's a rather long distance to go by hoof."

"Not to mention that the transportation grid is still shut down," said Kevin.

"I doubt they could stop ponies from traveling from one community to another, especially considering that pegasi can fly. Even Laura suggested to her friends at one point that they check on other communities to see how they're doing."

Kevin smiled faintly. "I have been attempting to enlighten the powers-that-be as to the new state of the world with limited success. Perhaps I can take this back to them as a further incentive."

"Just so you know," Harold said. "I'm not the only pony wondering about relatives in other places. Those visiting alien pony friends of yours have stirred up things a bit here."

"To be honest, that was the intention."

"We're still committed to this community, we're just starting to look at the broader picture." Harold smiled. "Bob's been really good at that. He seemed to figure that out on his own without needing help."

"Interesting you should bring him up," said Kevin. "Had you not sought me out, I would have sought you."

"Oh? What about?"

"Bob's biological mother Eileen McDermott has been making a lot of noise about wanting to see what has become of her son."

Harold nodded slowly. Had this been just a week before, he would have either flat out refused or accepted her presence with only great reluctance and a watchful eye.

"I realize you two don't see quite eye to eye," Kevin said. "But if it helps any, she's been trying to improve herself. She's been working tirelessly at the hospital since she, ah, attempted to discharge herself."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "Discharge herself? I think I've lost you there."

"My apologies, I should have realized you were not up to speed on recent events concerning her. She agreed to be the first human to receive the treatment that eliminated ETS."

Harold tilted his head. "There's a cure?"

"A cure in a loose sense of the word," said Kevin. "It's effective only on those who have not started transforming. In either case, it worked, and Eileen is and will likely remain human."

Harold had just been thinking that the difference in species would make it hard for him to relate to family, but he already had very little in common with Eileen as it was. Yet wasn't he holding this conversation with Kevin as if it didn't matter? Why should it matter with anyone else?

He felt much more of a sense of forgiveness towards Eileen, but how much of that was genuine? That had been something he had not wanted to question; it would be far easier and less stressful to start with a blank slate concerning Eileen. As much as perhaps he didn't want to admit it, Eileen was family, and Applejack had reminded him that family had priority.

"If this had been a week ago, I would answer that legally I can't deny her," said Harold. "But I feel that would be a cop out now, and I'm not even sure that even holds true anymore."

"Legal matters are a bit dicey right now," said Kevin. "But the request comes not from any legal authority, but Eileen herself."

Harold's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean she's actually asking for my permission?"

"You and Sarah's."

Harold had been thinking earlier that day just how much Jenny had seemed to mature in the last few days, not realizing that it had been due to her questioning her own memories. He had always seen it as a real possibility that Jenny would come around; he had never thought he would see the same in Eileen.

And she didn't have to become a pony to do it.

Harold nodded. "I'll have to check with Sarah, but I'm okay with it."

Kevin smiled. "Thank you. Eileen will be very glad to hear that."





While Laura was happy to see Tina again, she felt torn as to what to do with her friend. Her first instinct had been to show Tina all the things she could do now as a pegasus, but upon hearing that three more of the pegasi who had trained and worked with Laura had earned their cutie marks by that morning, she felt like she didn't want to steer Tina in one direction or the other.

It didn't help that Tina was eager to learn. In a way, Tina really hadn't changed. She always tended to go with the flow and not fret over details too much. To her, this was just another change in her life that she had to roll with.

Fortunately, Kevin came to her rescue. He had spread the word through the community that something was going to happen that day that was intended to stop new ETS transformations, and it would involve a spectacular light show. She used the excuse of not wanting to miss it to beg off showing Tina anything more advanced than just some basic flying techniques.

"God, this is so beautiful," Tina murmured as they hovered far above the settlement. She glanced down. "Just how high are we right now?"

Laura pointed to one of the taller mountains. "Well, that one is a fourteener," she said, using the Colorado term for an approximately 14,000 foot high mountain. "And we're a little above that, so maybe fifteen thousand feet."

"Wow, shouldn't we be having trouble breathing or something like that?"

"I guess it's just inherent in our nature," said Laura in an even voice. "Sort of like how we don't notice the chilly air up here. We'd have to be that way in order to handle the weather."

Tina chuckled. "You want to hear something weird? As much as I wanted to see what everything looked like from so far up, I always had trouble looking out an airplane window. It made me dizzy, like I had an issue with heights or something. I also couldn't hike for shit in the mountains. Always made me too breathless."

Laura smiled faintly, though it was partially forced. Had this been more of Sunset's work? Had she felt some sort of compassion for someone who had trouble with heights and altitude and thus made her a pegasus to compensate?

"Hey, you okay?" Tina asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," Laura lied.

"I can still tell when something is on your mind," said Tina. "Even more so now as ponies."

Laura had to admit, to see Tina as Laura remembered her was nice. It helped her believe that maybe Laura herself was not that different from who she used to be, that she was just given a new body and new skills. She just had to build on that and make her life her own again.

"It would take me too long to explain right now," said Laura. "Let's just say I learned a few things about this transformation and the who and what behind it, more than maybe I wanted to know."

"Then you're definitely going to have to explain this to me at some point, because now you have me intrigued."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you hear it from Bob."

"And what makes you think I will?" Tina said in a lofty voice despite the faint blush on her cheeks.

Laura grinned. "I've seen how you two have been hanging out since you got here. It's like watching Jenny and James."

Tina laughed as her blush deepened. She ran a hoof through her mane. "Are we that obvious?"

"Yes," Laura deadpanned.

"What can I say, he's a nice guy," said Tina. "And I like the intellectual side of him. That's the problem with living in a small Colorado town. All that the boys seem to be interested in is hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter. Both bore me to death and made them appear like jocks."

"But now he'll be interested in magic and you in weather control."

Tina tilted her head. "So? We still have interests outside of that."

It was then Laura realized her problem, even though it was staring her in the face the whole time. She had nothing that had interested her to the point of wanting to put any significant amount of time into it. No real hobbies, no particular activities that she sought to do. Becoming a pegasus had filled a void in her life. It would likely have been the same case had she become a unicorn or an earth pony.

She thought of Fluttershy, the timid and soft-spoken pegasus pony who possibly never crafted a cloud in her life, a pony who seemed perfectly happy and content with what she actually did do. Maybe Laura would talk to her, if for no other reason than to get a better sense of perspective.

Tina raised an eyebrow. "So ... just where are you going with this?"

Laura shook her head and smiled. "Let's just say I think I've been letting my abilities define me instead of the other way around."

"I don't quite get that," said Tina. "But it's at least not what I thought you might say."

"Like what?"

"That you had some sort of problem with Bob and I dating."

"Oh, not at all! I actually like the idea that not only is Bob dating, he's dating one of my best friends. Then at least I know he's in good hooves."

Tina smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate that." She looked out over the valley towards what had once been her home, the little town of Lazy Pines. She looked down and saw a military convoy heading away from the settlement along the road that bisected the town. "Boy, it's going to be one hell of a crazy future, isn't it?"

"Yes, it definitely will be," Laura said in a subdued voice.
> Chapter 54 - Cure
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight felt like she hadn't slept properly in a week.

She had hoped to get a full night's rest after dealing with Sunset's escape, but that had been based on the premise that Sunset would be back in human custody, her fate still undecided. Twilight never expected to be mourning for her instead. She knew herself well enough to realize that if she let herself wallow in the might-have-beens, she would become an emotional wreck and get nothing done. She had to put aside her feelings and her exhaustion and focus on the task at hoof.

Thus around noon Equestrian time, she was standing before the completed work, something she hoped later she would see as a huge triumph, a stupendous feat of magic and engineering, a monument to what both theory and hard work could do.

Now, however, it looked distressingly fragile and even overly simple. A tall, oval mirror sat in a large stone frame, complex runes inscribed along the edge of the glass with intense precision. Gone was the dangerously metastable magical singularity of the original portal, or the huge mana batteries needed to power it. Instead, the amount of magical plasma required was vastly smaller, running in conduits built into the frame.

Moreover, the plasma could be quiesced. It had to be, or its counterpart could never be transported through the existing portal. She had briefly panicked at one point that this could not be done, which would have meant building the counterpart on Earth, which in turn meant additional days of setting up a proper lab, transporting materials, and so on.

The mirror stood just behind the Crystal Heart. Twilight glanced behind her towards where she knew the denizens of the Crystal Empire were gathering, but they appeared warped and fractured through the faceted Heart.

She heard hoof-falls from the side, and she turned to see Cadance and Celestia approach. "Is the portal ready, Twilight?" Cadance asked.

"I certainly hope it is," said Twilight in a tired voice. "I'm just waiting for Starlight to finish setting up the other mirror on Earth. It should be any minute now."

"I am proud of you for the intense effort you put into this," said Celestia. "This never could have happened without you."

Twilight smiled faintly. In any other context, she would have taken the praise to heart, but at that moment, all she cared about was whether the damn thing would actually work.

As if in response to her thoughts, a sound like vibrating crystal rose from the mirror, and the surrounding frame softly thrummed. The glass glowed faintly, barely visible in the flashing brilliance reflected from the Crystal Heart. Seconds later, the surface rippled like water, and Star Singer stepped through.

Star opened her mouth as if to speak, but her eyes widened slightly as they fell upon Cadance and Celestia. She gave them an awkward bow before finally saying in an uncertain voice, "I always did want to see the Crystal Empire one day, so I guess getting that wish is nice."

"Are you feeling okay?" Twilight asked.

"That's really a loaded question after everything that happened," said Star.

"I mean physically!" Twilight said in a testy voice. "Any nausea? Lightheadedness? Mental or magical impairment?"

"I'm fine, Twilight. In fact, it felt much smoother than the original portal."

"It should," said Twilight. "In effect, the two surfaces are acting as if they are the same entity. If only ... well, never mind that."

Twilight had almost said "if only Sunset had remained in Equestria, she could have helped open peaceful relations with Earth." Now was not the time for lamentations.

She looked over to Cadance instead. "Is my brother going to be here?"

"He will be," said Cadance. "Flurry Heart chose this day of all days to be fussy. Both Shining and Sunburst will be along shortly."

Twilight had hoped to stay in the Crystal Empire for a few days after this was over. She needed all her emotional strength if she were going to face her father and her grandmother in the wake of Sunset's passing. Yet she still craved family contact, and her BBBFF would be just what she needed.

In a way, she envied the Tanners back on Earth. Their transformation had brought them closer together, even if there was still some question as to their future.

It was her personal contact with humans that had kept her going. When the initial shock had worn off concerning Sunset's death, and she was faced with having to finish the portal, she found it easy to think she could just wash her hooves of humanity and leave them to their own devices. It hadn't taken her long to pull herself out of those dark thoughts, but she hated that she had had those thoughts in the first place.

The rest of her friends came to join her, with Applejack leading the way. "We jus' came from the square. Looks like yer gonna have quite a crowd fer this shindig."

"We got everypony in the Empire to show up!" Pinkie said.

"Not that we had a lot of work to do," said Rainbow Dash with a smile. "Everypony was really eager to help."

"I think it helped that they knew there are ponies similar to them on <Earth>," said Fluttershy.

Rarity uttered a soft sigh as she stepped up to Twilight. "Normally I would be reveling in another chance to have that fabulous crystal look again, but at the moment, this seems almost bittersweet. I do hope this works."

"You're not the only one," said Twilight. "But that reminds me. Celestia, have you heard from Luna? How successful was she in getting the night ponies on Earth to contact all the crystal ponies overnight?"

"She was successful in that part of the endeavor," Celestia said.

Twilight could hear the undertone of disappointment in Celestia's voice. "But did she get their consent?"

"She obtained consent from most."

"How much is 'most'?"

"Luna didn't take exact numbers," said Celestia. "But she said about three quarters of them acquiesced."

"Well, that sounds pretty dandy to me," said Applejack.

Twilight frowned. "Except it's not. I need all of them. If that many don't want to cooperate, that's a sizable chunk of the population who could begin transforming."

"Wait, I'm missing something here," said Star Singer. "I thought this technique was going to be assisted by Triss, that the magic would seek out crystal ponies and everything would just work."

"Yes, but I didn't want to do this against their will."

"Is this going to hurt the crystal ponies of that world in any way?" Star Singer asked.

"Well, no, it shouldn't," said Twilight. "Startle them a bit, maybe, but that's it."

"Then what's the problem?"

Twilight frowned and turned more fully towards Star. "We've had enough of doing things to sapient beings against their wishes! I didn't want to resort to it as well."

"I don't think the <humans> would care at this point, to be brutally honest."

Therein lay Twilight's dilemma. This particular problem concerning the crystal ponies was just the tip of the iceberg. For all their talk about how the original transformation went against the collective will of humanity, they were quick to disregard the wishes of the affected when it came to the prospects of changing them back.

Twilight would never admit to such, but she sometimes wished that the transformed would obtain cutie marks just to lift the burden from her. Yet as Luna had told her just a few days ago, she couldn't keep avoiding decisions like this. Or the one she had to make now.

She wished she had more accurate data on how many crystal ponies agreed and where they were located. Then she could make the proper calculations and give her more of a basis to make a decision. It was only when she realized this fell into the same patterns of thought as Sunset that she backed away from it. This couldn't be decided on the basis of cold and hard facts, but what she felt was best.

She glanced towards the mirror. Beyond it lay an entire species depending on her and her friends to help them. What was more important, a personal conviction or the potential survival of humanity? Making the wrong decision risked a future where humans were the minority race on their own planet.

She looked towards her friends. Their eyes looked on in sympathy rather than judgment. That helped.

"All right," Twilight said. "We'll push the spell to all crystal ponies on <Earth>."

"I understand how you feel about this Twilight," said Celestia in a somber voice. "Given that I had to make a similar decision when I cast the memory suppression spell. History did not vindicate me, but I am sure it will vindicate you."

Twilight could only hope so, especially now that she knew she had the potential to one day become immortal like Celestia. She did not want to go that long regretting something she had done.

"Before I address the crowd, is there anything else we should know about?" Cadance asked.

"Well, it's not directly related to this," said Rainbow. "But just before I was called back from the Griffon Kingdom, I found Derpy's parents."

"That is wonderful news," said Rarity.

"Has Derpy been told 'bout this yet?" Applejack asked.

"I haven't had time," said Rainbow. "I thought I'd talk to Princess Celestia about it first, since I think Derpy's parents are still under the memory spell."

"We can discuss it right after we conclude distributing the counterspell," said Celestia. "I hope this bodes well for the future."

Rainbow rubbed a hoof through her mane. "I dunno about that. I was forced to tell Gilda pretty much everything that was happening. She, uh, didn't take it well. But I did manage to get her to promise not to spread the word about it for now."

"Thank you, Rainbow Dash," Celestia said. "As much as we are all eager to move past this, things are still in a very delicate state right now."

Twilight at least could be content with the fact that she was not the one who had to tell the nobility that an Equestrian citizen was killed by a foreign power. While the nobles had no real power over the Diarchy, Celestia preferred them to remain placated, as it was less headache for her. "Star Singer, if you would, please tell Starlight we're about ready."

"Only if I can come right back," said Star. "I've about had my fill of that world for a long time to come. Perhaps forever."





Starlight's horn glowed as she examined the portal to ensure it was functioning properly despite having seen Star Singer go, return, and leave again no worse for wear. The spells she was using she had memorized from Twilight's writings. Where the original portal was magic she at least barely grasped, this new one might as well have been some piece of unfathomable human technology; she knew only how to cast the spells and interpret the results.

The wind blew at her mane, sending a few strands of hair across her eyes. The basement of Sunset's house had been deemed too small a space for the new portal, as they had wanted to increase security around it. Starlight had no idea how much more secure they could get considering the whole town was pretty much a fortified bunker by then. Nevertheless, they had transported it outside. She wasn't sure how placing it right out the open would help, thus she wondered if the humans simply wanted to ensure that nothing impeded the magic when it came out of the portal.

Teaching these humans exactly how magic worked was going to be a daunting task.

Starlight finally quiesced her horn and turned away from the portal. Anthony approached her and said, "Is everything ready?"

"As ready as it will ever be," said Starlight. "The portal seems to be good, and Star Singer told me that they're about to start."

"The President decided to issue another Emergency Action Notification message as a final warning that this was happening. He hopes it will keep enough people glued to their television and radios and thus not be roaming about when the counterspell is cast. The thinking was that the less scattered people are, the more will be affected by the counterspell. That combined with a judicious relocation of some crystal ponies we hope will ensure an even distribution."

Starlight did not bother asking if they had gained those relocated ponies' consent. She glanced around. "Where's Sandra?"

"She doesn't have high enough clearance for this operation," said Anthony.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on!"

"And there is little that she can contribute anyway. The ball is in the Crystal Empire's court right now."

"I was hoping to learn what the latest numbers are concerning ETS," said Starlight. "Twilight wanted to know, but she had to head back early through the old portal so she would have enough time to catch the train to the Crystal Empire."

"Doctor Marlowe apprised me of the latest numbers, and I combined it with additional data from intelligence sources that she would not be privy to."

Starlight sighed. She had thought Celestia's web of intrigue over Sunset's past had been complicated. "Fine, and what are the results? I assume I can be 'privy' to that information."

"If Sunset's last-minute stunt to hasten transformations can truly be stopped, then the number of fully transformed will be between two hundred twenty-five million and three hundred million worldwide by tomorrow morning."

"And if it can't?"

"Three hundred fifty to five hundred million," said Anthony. "That's not counting the additional four hundred million worldwide who are about to show the first signs of the transformation symptoms, or the further hundreds of millions who are in the final stages of the influenza part of ETS."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Y-you're not serious ..."

"Those numbers were most likely a driving force behind the decision that was made concerning Sunset," said Anthony in a somber tone. "They likely believed we faced the complete extinction of humanity if Sunset could escape again and wreak even more havoc. I'll remind you that Twilight has yet to even begin addressing how to reverse incomplete transformations. Her counterspell will simply halt those infected from starting or spreading it to others."

"So even the most optimistic numbers are still a low estimate."

"That's about the size of it right now, yes."

Starlight frowned. "Then tell me this: exactly what's being done to address the issue of having a sizable pony population in your midst? I don't think you can say 'we hope we don't have to deal with that' anymore."

"Those discussions are happening at a far higher level than myself," said Anthony. "You and Twilight will eventually know more about it than I ever will."

"At least something is being done," Starlight muttered.

"Frankly, we don't have a choice," said Anthony. "The community that was founded north of Lazy Pines is not the only one in existence, it's simply the only one that we have any sort of influence over at the moment. It's too soon to say whether the altered vision Josie promulgated overnight is having any effect at reminding the transformed of their origins."

Even now, Starlight noticed that the humans generally avoided referring to the transformed as "ponies" if they could help it. To them, this was still seen as a temporary and unwanted condition. Calling them ponies was almost the equivalent of calling a handicapped person a "cripple."

Not to mention that Luna's task had never been to "remind the transformed of their origins," it was to remind them they shared the planet with humanity. That, Twilight had felt, was a far more achievable goal than trying to go against what was now their very nature.

"What about the issue of consent concerning turning them back?" Starlight asked.

"Yes, I realize that's very much on Twilight's mind, even if she doesn't voice it openly," said Anthony. "We are hoping she will leave that matter to us and go by our recommendations. The prevailing opinion is still that they are, for the most part, incapable of making any sort of informed decision."

Starlight wondered if Anthony were simply resorting to euphemisms again, or if she were hearing a definite shift in tone. Those words were certainly softer than the term "mentally incompetent" that had been bandied about so easily earlier. She hoped that meant they were seeing more signs that the Lazy Pines folk were starting to think for themselves.

Her mind kept going back to that "off the record" discussion with Sandra. Just how many of these transformed now really did have it better in certain ways? How many others had purposely sought to be transformed, and not just for medical reasons? How many would indeed see it as a means to solve their problems? Would they still have no say in being turned back?

"Ultimately, we have to decide what's best for humanity in the long term," Anthony continued. "We don't even know yet what would work best, smaller scattered groups of transformed or several larger groups. Our only example of the latter is Denver."

"Denver? That's the nearest big city, right?"

"Yes, and the single most affected metropolitan area. Estimates are seven to eight out of every ten citizens are transformed or currently transforming. Already there's been reports of asphalt and concrete being ripped up to provide exposed dirt for crops. There's nobody who is able or willing to stop them from causing billions of dollars of damage to property they likely don't even own."

Starlight was again reminded just how radically different Earth was from Equestria in economic matters. While Equestria did have a monetary system, the ponies were not slaves to it. A pony without money could still find reasonable food and shelter. Sure, they had their ponies like Filthy Rich who reveled in accumulating bits, but they were a vast minority.

She wasn't necessarily faulting them for it. Starlight admitted that she had a more harsh view of that world when she had first arrived, and perhaps she still remained cynical about matters at times, but she was starting to understand that what faced the humans was the same thing which had daunted Twilight: the vastness of scale. Earth was far larger than Equestria, had far more sapient beings, and far more challenges than Equestria had faced for a long time. Perhaps Starlight had assumed that the humans should be used to such scale, so they should have had the solutions.

Instead, that scale daunted even them in more mundane matters outside of ETS, and yet they still managed to survive and even thrive. Starlight was only now beginning to realize how much these two worlds could teach each other.

"Huh, I've been hanging around Twilight too long," Starlight quipped. "I'm starting to think more like her."

"Pardon?"

Starlight shook her head. "Never mind, it would take too long to explain, and ..." She trailed off as she heard a faint thrumming noise behind her. She turned her head and saw the glass of the mirror starting to glow brighter. "... and the grandest of all fireworks shows is about to start."





Twilight stood beside Sunburst near the Crystal Heart as Princess Cadance stepped onto the balcony to the loud cheers from the populace below. Behind her stood Shining Armor cradling a sleeping Flurry Heart, the foal wearing an enchanted pair of earmuffs blocking out the general din, and near Twilight were the other five Element-bearers and Sunburst. Star Singer had opted to vacate the limelight in favor of watching with the general population below.

"Citizens of the Cry ... ugh, this won't do," Cadance said as she realized her voice would not carry over the raucous crowd. Her horn glowed briefly, and when she next spoke, her words resonated with a reasonable facsimile of the Royal Canterlot Voice, in volume if not word usage. "Citizens of the Crystal Empire! I am both pleased and proud to see such enthusiasm for helping a world of which you have only the barest glimmer of knowledge. I understand you are all excited about hearing of ponies like yourself, possibly with the same rare gift, existing outside the boundaries of the Empire in such numbers."

Another cheer rose from the crowd. Twilight realized that Fluttershy's earlier comment had been right.

"But please keep in mind that we are doing this not for your potential brethren, but for the people who have had a magical apocalypse thrust upon them," Cadance continued. "What are doing today is not so much trying to cure them as giving them the one thing they most need, the one thing that we have in abundance: hope."

The cheer that rose was almost as loud as the first. Twilight herself started to feel some measure of hope that this was actually going to work. Crystal pony power was not something she had tried to calculate to the last decimal point; even Sunburst had expressed some last minute doubts earlier that morning, but now he seemed more at ease as well.

It at least helped keep her darker thoughts at bay for the moment. Twilight had the uneasy feeling that once the immediate crisis was over, she would have to push herself until she managed to deal with the lingering resentment over Sunset's death. Never before had a larger duty so badly conflicted with her own feelings.

"What we do here is but one step on a long road, but that road will go nowhere unless we succeed here, unless we give them that hope that they need. In times past, whenever I have asked you to give of your feelings into the Crystal Heart, it was for and in the name of the Crystal Empire. My plea is that your hearts are big enough to consider these foreign people as if they were your neighbors, your friends, and your family."

Another deafening cheer, accompanied by hoof-stomps. In a way, Twilight envied Cadance. She carried the bearing and command of Princess authority that Twilight thought she never did and never could. She simply couldn't see herself giving a speech like this. She could express the exact same sentiment, but she doubted it could ever stir the masses.

Twilight then understood another reason why she had so looked forward to opening relations with Earth. On Earth, diplomats didn't have to make fancy speeches. That was what heads of state were for. Diplomats worked behind the scenes to get things done at a more basic level, something that Twilight always preferred to do.

Yet as she looked over to her friends, her heart ached. Committing herself to such a venture would mean long periods away from home and away from her friends. Of course, she knew from her friendship with Kevin that she was perfectly capable of befriending humans, and that she would soon have more than she ever knew on a world with a population several orders of magnitude greater than Equestria.

Cadance smiled, and even though she was more used to this sort of outpouring from her subjects, even her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her voice remained steady and strong as she continued. "You all continue to be a great joy to me, and I am honored beyond belief to be your Princess. Now, without further hesitation, without losing that incredible sense of enthusiasm and resolve, I ask you now to direct those feelings into the Crystal Heart."

The cheer that rose in response was shorter and less raucous, as many of the assembled ponies were quieting to settle their own thoughts. Cadance stepped back, and Shining Armor stepped over to her with a smile. "That was a great speech, Cady."

Cadance smiled as she canceled the amplification spell with a flicker of her horn. "I hope it worked," she said in a slightly quavering voice.

Rainbow Dash turned her head and jabbed a fore-hoof towards the Heart. "I think it already is. Look!"

The Heart had begun rotating, perhaps sooner than they had seen it do before. As the crowd calmed and settled into a gentle quiet, Twilight could not help but speculate as to what the future held for those on Earth who remained ponies. Would they eventually create and nurture their own Harmony magic? Would their crystal ponies eventually forge something like the Crystal Heart? She realized her main concerns should be with the humans, but was there anything wrong with wanting a positive future for those who were permanently transformed?

As the Heart spun faster and gave off a faintly crystalline whine, Sunburst adjusted his glasses and called out, "Princess Cadance, it's almost time! Do you have the spell I gave you?"

Cadance stepped forward, a scroll held in her magic which she now unrolled. "Right here. I'm ready."

Sunburst stepped back. "Cast it right after the Heart gives off its initial energy burst. Not a moment before, and no more than a few seconds after."

Twilight owed a lot to Sunburst and would make sure he got the recognition that he deserved. He was the one who discovered the means by which to direct the energy of the Crystal Heart. Without him, this would have been impossible.

"What of Triss, Twilight?" Cadance spoke above the increasing volume of the Heart's hum. "Is she supposed to assist you as well?"

"She pledged to me she would," said Twilight. "But most of what she needed to do she already has in place."

Twilight admitted to feeling a twinge of apprehension. While Triss had seemed genuinely contrite and willing to help, Twilight had to remember that the alicorn-like creature had her own agenda from the start. Not a malevolent one; it certainly was not evil to want to seize a chance at destroying something that was responsible for incalculable death and destruction. How powerful did a creature need to be where the future of a whole civilization could be weighed against a larger goal?

Twilight hoped she never became that powerful, second threshold or no.

A surge of magic erupted from the Crystal Heart in a single huge pulse, and at once Twilight and her friends appeared as crystal themselves, sparkling brightly in the sunlight. She heard a giggle as Flurry Heart stirred, clopping her fore-hooves in delight as she beheld herself and her parents.

The wave had barely reached the crowd below when Cadance's horn blazed, and a beam of magic shot from it into the Heart.

"Get ready, Princess Twilight!" Sunburst exclaimed.

Twilight had been ready for this moment for what seemed a long time. It was hard to believe it had been only a few days ago when she and Starlight first arrived on Earth. It seemed like a whole lifetime had passed in that short time.

She readied her modified counterspell in her head and thought back to the time she had finished an incomplete spell first penned by Starswirl the Bearded, the one that had sent her life down a new path with her Ascension. Now she was left to wonder what would be the trigger for passing the second threshold? She dearly hoped something like this would not be it. As much as this crisis had helped teach her more about Princess responsibility, she needed far more time before she was ready for such a leap.

A wide and almost blinding beam of energy suddenly burst out of the Crystal Heart and squarely into the center of the mirror. It began to thrum almost as loud as the Heart, and Twilight silently begged it to hold together as she cast the counterspell.

Twilight nearly gasped. She had not been sure what to expect, but not something quite like this. She felt as if she were riding the beam of magic herself, as if her senses had somehow been extended through the magic of the Heart. Sunburst undoubtedly had not known this, or he would have warned her.

Her heart leapt. She actually felt the magic on the other end of the portal find its first crystal pony and dispense her counterspell as wide as it would go. Like a nuclear chain reaction, two more beams rocketed away from the first and sought more.

"Twily, is something--?" Shining began.

"It's working!" Twilight cried in jubilation.

Her friends cheered, and Twilight allowed herself a smile, at least until she closed her eyes and saw before her the starry realm she had visited when she had first Ascended. This time she did gasp in surprise, and when her eyes shot open, she was once more standing where she was before, as if she had never left.

"Are you sure nothing's amiss, Princess?" Sunburst said nervously. "You looked startled for a moment."

So she hadn't actually left. Had that been Twilight's imagination in all her excitement? Yet when she closed her eyes again, she once more saw that realm, and then her friends upon opening them again.

It's okay, Twilight, came the familiar "voice" of Celestia in her head. Please, close your eyes so we may better talk. I assure you that I have connected you to the realm in mind only.

"Everything's fine," Twilight said in a calmer voice. "I just need to keep concentrating."

She closed her eyes, and now Celestia appeared before her. Twilight tried to speak, but "heard" herself only in her head. I was wondering where you had gone.

It was important that I did this while you were casting the counterspell.

Twilight swallowed hard. I'm not ... this is not the second ...

No, Twilight, said Celestia firmly. Believe me, there will be little doubt in your mind when that day comes.

Twilight felt a measure of relief. That would be just one more thing she couldn't handle right that moment.

And it is not I who wishes to speak with you, said Celestia.

She stepped off to the side, and Triss stepped into view. She smiled softly and said, Hello, Twilight.

I'm feeling something I didn't expect when I did this, so I'm not completely sure I can trust it, said Twilight. Is it really working?

It is indeed, said Triss. I am helping to extend your senses, so you can see for yourself what is happening ... and perhaps a little more.

A little more? Twilight asked. What do you mean? More of what?

Just continue watching, Twilight. You might learn something new that can help.

Twilight had to open her eyes; she was too anxious about what the others were thinking. Sure enough, her friends were still looking at her with concern. "I'm okay, everypony!" she called out, having to almost shout over the combined din of the Crystal Heart and the magic mirror.

The sheer amount of magic flowing around her was nothing less than phenomenal. The only time she had ever felt something like this was during her battle with Tirek. Her heart raced as she fought to understand what her magical senses were telling her. The magic racing across the globe of Earth was like a raging river growing ever more swift the more it spread. Wherever it touched, the lights of the transformation spell flickered out like flames doused by water.

This alone should have been enough to fill her with joy, yet something tugged at the edge of her perception. With the rising tide of magic carrying the counterspell, she could catch something off on the horizon.

She finally realized what she was sensing. It was the tendrils of power flowing into those who were still transforming. Of course she would see them, as she had applied the change to slow their previously accelerated transformations. Yet as she concentrated, she saw something more was happening. Something had disturbed the transformation process more than she could account for. It couldn't be the magic of the counterspell, as that had a completely different resonance.

Twilight gasped, and her eyes widened she she finally understood: somehow, a small amount of the huge pool of accumulated transformation magic was being drained. But how? Where was it going? Had she made a mistake, and now some other portion of the Earth population was transforming faster? Had she only shifted the problem to someplace else?

"No, wait!" Twilight suddenly cried, startling her friends. "It's not just being drained, it's being changed! The crystal ponies are pulling it in!"

"Twily, what are you talking about?" Shining Armor said. "And how close are you to being done? Cady is almost exhausted!"

Twilight blinked and glanced over to the side. Cadance was panting, her hooves splayed as if to better balance herself, perspiration dripping from her face. "Cadance, hang on!" Twilight cried. "We're almost there!"

"You're lookin' a might peaked there yerself, Twi!" Applejack called out.

Twilight refused to feel anything but the sense of discovery and hope that had just come over her. Somehow, the crystal ponies were pulling in a small amount of the transformation magic, changing it, and using it to augment the power behind her counterspell. In all the research she and Sunburst had done about this ability to channel magic, they had never stopped to think that they could change one form into another.

Finally, Twilight had an idea on how to slow and stop the ongoing transformations, and possibly even reverse them.

It wasn't a cure-all. It wouldn't do anything for the fully transformed, but it would remove an enormous burden from her hooves so she could concentrate on that final cure.

If only Twilight could keep pushing, she could accomplish it all now. Even when the counterspell had reached all it could, if they could keep the stream of magic going long enough for her to craft the proper spell, then all that transformation magic could be sucked up and dissipated into a more harmless form ...

Twilight, let go, came Celestia's voice.

But I almost have it! Twilight cried in her head, her distress betrayed to the others by a small whimper. I could solve two problems at once! There's no way we can do something like this on this kind of scale again, it's too taxing on ponies, the Heart, the mirror--

Twilight, you've succeeded at this task, came Triss' voice. The counterspell is still going and can sustain itself. I trust you saw what the crystal ponies were doing?

Yes, which is why I want to continue and--

Twilight, Celestia said firmly. Even Starswirl knew when to stop.

Twilight swallowed hard. All she wanted to do was fix this. She truly believed that Sunset had shown a glimmer of possibility she had rethought what she had done, and Twilight didn't want Sunset to have died in vain. Yet they were right; she could do only so much.

She quiesced her horn. "All right, stop!"

Cadance quit only a second after the words were out of Twilight's mouth, and Shining rushed to her side. The beam into the portal ceased, and the Heart and portal began to subside.

"Well??" Rainbow Dash cried into the ensuing silence.

Twilight heaved a large sigh. "We did it."

Somehow, her voice managed to make it down to the crowd below, and they erupted into their most deafening cheer yet. Twilight's friends swarmed her, pulling her into one large hug. Twilight finally set aside her worry, and the first truly genuine smile in what seemed like forever stretched across her muzzle.





Despite being told that the magic would likely have no effect on her even if she stood dead center within it, Starlight ducked to the ground anyway when the massive beam erupted from the portal. Certainly the humans initially viewed it with some alarm despite being alerted to what the effects would be. Perhaps even they were the same as Starlight, that they had not expected it to be so spectacularly bright.

The beam immediately began to arc towards the pony settlement to the north, as that was where the closest crystal pony was located. The moment it hit, a rapidly expanding dome of light burst from the settlement, quickly filling the valley and swelling far past it and the mountains on either side.

More beams were launched off into the distance, soon curving and spiraling off until they could no longer be seen past the rugged terrain of the Front Range. Yet evidence of their passing came in the form of more silent explosions of expanding light, the height of which reached well above that of the fourteeners.

Starlight gave the portal a quick check. It was strained but holding. She headed over to where Anthony and one of the army commanders were looking over several monitors. She had been told they were live satellite feeds from Earth orbit. Where Equestria had never purposely orbited anything around its world, they had to explain to her how the technology worked.

One of the monitors showed the North American continent, focused on the western half of the United States. As she watched, light blossomed in expanding circles, spreading out from roughly the center of the view. From this vantage point, they looked distressingly small, yet they appeared with increasing frequency as they spread further.

"Well, at least this shows it's working," Starlight said, feeling the need to break the silence.

"It's also showing something else," said Anthony. He turned towards the army commander, who was holding a folder. He handed the folder to Anthony, who extracted a picture and presented it to Starlight.

Starlight took it in her magic. It appeared to be a photo made from a satellite view, though more zoomed-in, as she could make out evidence of human civilization. The picture was dotted with tight collections of clouds. "Uhh, what am I looking at?"

"Evidence of more pony communities," said Anthony. "The arrangement of clouds follows no known natural meteorological pattern. They're believed to be pegasus-made."

Starlight had known that the humans had means to predict the weather in lieu of their inability to affect it, but she had not studied just how they did it. "Well, but it also proves they're not wreaking havoc with it on a large scale. This looks pretty localized to me."

Anthony took the picture back. "Even our best scientists don't claim to know everything about how weather works. There's no telling yet if there are any longer term implications." He turned back to the monitor. "But on the brighter side, yes, it does appear that Twilight's idea worked. The computers are watching this as well and will tally up exactly how much coverage there is."

Starlight glanced at another monitor which she guessed was showing the east coast of the United States. Blossoms were beginning to appear there as well. A few started to cross the border into Canada.

They watched the progress for the next few minutes before the army commander pointed to another monitor. "Sir?"

Anthony turned to look, and Starlight craned her neck to look as well. Now she was looking at a landmass that was not familiar to her at all, a largish one that spread from upper right to lower left, with another splotch of land in the upper left corner. As she watched, a light blossom appeared on the latter.

"It's crossed the Atlantic already," Anthony said. "That's very encouraging."

"I'm glad to hear you say something positive for a change," Starlight blurted before she could stop herself. She sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, forget I said that."

Anthony turned to her and smiled faintly. "Don't be. I understand I can sound cool and harsh sometimes. Hopefully you won't take me as an accurate representation of humanity. I'm trained to be this way in times of crisis. I couldn't do my job otherwise."

Starlight knew that all humans were not like him; all one had to do was spend ten minutes with Kevin Conner to understand that. "Yeah, and don't take me to be representative of Equestrian ponies. I actually wasn't always this cynical. I think circumstances just simply thrust me into that role. I get along with quite a number of ponies back home."

"To be perfectly honest, Starlight, while I admire your friend Twilight greatly, I do feel sometimes she leans too far into idealism," Anthony explained. "Talking to you, while it can be a little troublesome at times, is often a breath of fresh air."

Starlight found that praise to be a bit dubious, but she accepted it with all the grace she could muster. Ever since becoming Twilight's student in both magic and friendship, she had tried to put on as much of a pleasant demeanor as possible. It helped that most crises they encountered were not end-of-the-world scenarios.

Her thoughts returned to what Rainbow Dash had said of her talk with Laura. In a way, Laura and Starlight were more kindred spirits. Starlight had to look back on her time spent on Earth and wonder who the real Starlight was, the one who was pleasant to everypony and who fretted over every new friendship lesson, or the snide and cynical mare she had become in the past week?

What concerned her was that the latter was closer to the way she had been when she was in charge of Our Town. Certainly that had been the unicorn whom Twilight had chased across multiple timelines.

Or perhaps she was just being too hard on herself. The image of Sunset lying dead was still too fresh in her mind. That could have easily been Starlight had she done her shenanigans on  Earth.

Starlight decided to do what she always did when confronted with awkward questions like these: change the subject. "So, uh, any word on what will happen to the new portal once this is over? Twilight told me you can pretty much put it anywhere you want and it will still work."

"That hasn't been decided yet," said Anthony. "There's debate going on at the top as to balancing ease of access for diplomats and safety considerations. It will hinge on whether there's going to be two-way traffic, so to speak."

"Pardon?"

"The accepted protocol on Earth for two nations maintaining relations with one another is to exchange embassies," said Anthony. "That means each country has a small physical presence on the other nation's soil. As a courtesy, the land where the embassy is located is considered sovereign to the foreign country."

"I'm sure Princess Celestia would be more than willing to host a human embassy in Canterlot," said Starlight, though she realized she was making some big assumptions. She had no idea as to what the reaction would be to Sunset's death.

"Ah, it's a little more complicated than that. Remember, we don't have one central planetary government."

Starlight's eyes widened. "You're not serious. You don't mean every one of those two hundred and whatever countries are going to want embassies?!"

"Certainly the major powers," said Anthony. "If for no other reason than to feel out how much influence establishing good relations with Equestria can buy them back here."

Starlight smirked. "To use an Earth expression, they're barking up the wrong tree."

Anthony smiled more naturally. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. If even half of what I believe of life in Equestria is true, I have a feeling they'll want to be friends with everyone."

This was the most relaxed and personable Starlight had ever seen Anthony be. Perhaps Twilight was right, that the counterspell representing something far more than "just" curing people of ETS.

"It looks like the wave is finally petering out, sir," said the army commander.

"What does the computer have to say about it?" Anthony asked.

"Still crunching the numbers. Should be just a few minutes now."

Anthony nodded and turned back to Starlight. "There's also talk about leaving it to the United Nations, but we'll see if that goes anywhere. But I do have some good news for Twilight. She's going to get what she wants. The President is in serious talks now about how to accommodate ponies in our society."

"Yes, she will be happy to hear that," said Starlight with some relief. "Who finally kicked someone's butt into gear over that?"

"Me."

Starlight's eyes widened. "Er, what??"

"Are you surprised?"

"To be perfectly blunt, yes."

Anthony smiled again. "Let's just say I am not as inflexible as maybe I appear."

"You should be telling Kevin about this, too," said Starlight. "He was the one really adamant about it."

"Yes, but like with Twilight and you, I needed to balance his idealism with practicality," said Anthony. "Once I managed to do that, I had more solid reasons to advocate for it. Don't get me wrong, Starlight, there is still a lot of concern over the mental state of the transformed. We're just simply balancing that with a bit more kindness."

Starlight tilted her head. "And that's all?"

Anthony hesitated before responding in a lower voice, "Let's just say that when I saw what Twilight and her friends did when they combined their powers against Sunset, I was ... impressed. Not at the power itself, but where it came from. I've been told that every one of your friends lived up to the nature of their Element ever since they got here." He paused. "It made me regret the fact that we felt we had to kill Sunset in the end. Hopefully, Equestria will not think too ill of us over it."

Starlight had no idea what to say. This was a side of the man that she had never seen before. It almost made her want to confess some of her own conflicted feelings. Before she could even begin to form a reply, the army commander called for Anthony's attention.

Anthony stared at a monitor displaying lines and columns of text instead of an image. "Are you absolutely sure this is correct?"

"They're doing another run to confirm, sir," said the commander. "But they're pretty sure."

Starlight stepped up. "What's going on?"

Anthony turned towards her. "It seems the coverage of the counterspell well exceeded anyone's hopes. Ninety-nine-point-two percent."

Starlight's pupils shrank. "What?! But Twilight had estimated at most ninety-two, and that was the at the optimistic end of the range!"

"I don't know what she did, but we are quite grateful for it," said Anthony. Even the army commander himself was smiling. "We've finally beat this."

"There's still the humans who are in the middle of transforming," Starlight said. "Twilight doesn't quite have a plan for that yet."

"I realize that, but there comes a point where you have to latch on to some hope and see a possible brighter future," said Anthony. "It's like winning a crucial battle in a war you know will go on for several more years. You bask in the moment, and it gives you the courage to continue. I don't think you quite realize just how many people were very close to giving up."

Starlight could imagine. She was surprised as to how much dedication many of the humans showed in the face of something they were struggling to understand. For once, she thought the war analogy very apt. This was really just the start. It was nice to think at first that all they had to do was fix things up here and then return to their relatively peaceful lives back in Equestria. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Anthony stepped up to her. "There's not much more for me to do at the moment until Twilight and her friends return so we can discuss the next steps. Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?"

Starlight smiled. "Gladly." And not just for the caffeine, she added in her head.
> Chapter 55 - Pondering The Future
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that Kevin gave Heather a lot to think about after they last spoke would be an understatement. She had already started questioning what exactly she was and what she was expected to do even after her transformation had completed, while so many other ponies seemed more content with whatever roles they had come up with in starting this new community.

She had first tried assisting as any earth pony might, as she appeared to have the strength that the others exhibited, but she had no drive to til the soil or manage the land. The Earth did not speak to her as it did for the other earth ponies. Even when Kevin had hinted that she may be able to do something unique, it wasn't even to help her fellow ponies.

That had started her questioning. It didn't help that she often liked to spend the early evenings in the company of the Tanner family, and even some of them were starting to question circumstances behind these changes. It made Heather's own situation seem more unclear, and even the dream she received the night before requesting her help and explaining what would happen had not really resolved the basic issue, other than giving her a name for what she was: a crystal pony.

She had agreed to help, of course. Just as she had told Kevin, she had dedicated her life to helping people. What difference did it make whether they were pony or human? Back in her days as Kevin's assistant, she wouldn't have even considered refusing to help people merely because of their skin color; this seemed no different.

Yet she couldn't help but feel a little frightened. She had been assured that this would not hurt, but where she did not completely understand exactly what was going to happen, that was a huge unknown to contend with.

She was grateful when her friends stood close to her side for support. Only Carol stayed away out of deference to the safety of her unborn foal, but even then she was told it likely wouldn't have harmed him. She had wished to have another crystal pony beside her, but the only other one in the community had been temporarily relocated to assist in the counterspell distribution.

They were told only approximately when it would start, thus when it happened, it was almost literally a bolt out of the blue.

Heather just barely saw the incoming magic in time, rocketing towards her with such speed and ferocity that she doubted she could have stepped out of the way had she known it was coming or been of the mindset to chicken out at the last moment. She expected some sort of noise, like a thunderous boom, or a crack of lightning. Instead, all she heard was the collective gasp of the ponies around her.

She felt something like what had happened when Sarah had embraced her before they had fully transformed, a sense of power or energy flowing through her, but vastly magnified. From the way it had been described to her, she was merely a relay point, a way to both distribute the cure for ETS over a wide area and project it to the next crystal pony.

Heather's eyes suddenly snapped open wide, and she felt lighter. Soon she couldn't feel her hooves touching the ground, but this did not alarm her. She was too utterly fascinated by what she was feeling in her body and seeing in her head. The energy flowing through her was no longer just a cipher. It had purpose and meaning she could sense. It was not in the way some unicorns understood it as runes and spells; it was far more basic than that.

She sensed something on the periphery of a construct that had no words. A weave, or a tapestry, or perhaps this was what physicists were talking about when they mentioned things like the quantum foam. Whatever the explanation, the magic flowing through her was part of that, and she could sense other magic in great abundance beyond it.

Heather didn't quite understand her abilities to know exactly what that magic was, only that she could reach out and draw it into herself. She felt the burning need to do just that; it would augment the magic pouring into her which now sought escape. She could boost it. That had to be good. It felt right.

The spell burst out of her in a dome of light which rushed away from her so fast that it was already at the unofficial boundary of the community before she got a good look at it. Yet that was only part of the magic still inside her. She channeled some more of that distant, unknown magic into herself and into the arcing beam of light that launched from her and almost to the horizon before she knew what was happening.

And almost as soon as it started, it was over.

Her hooves met the ground, and she let out a long sigh of relief. Only then did she hear the cheering of her fellow ponies, at least those who were not immediately surrounding her, as they were too busy staring at her in astonishment.

Heather swung her head around. More ponies behind them started to gasp and stare as well. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Heather ..." one of her friends said in a hushed and awed voice. "Look at yourself!"

Heather craned her neck, and she was struck speechless.

As if she had undergone another transformation, she now appeared much more like her name suggested. She was living crystal, bright, shiny, and sparkling. Sunlight refracted through her, throwing dozens of tiny rainbows along the ground and across the fur of the other ponies.

"You look amazing!" somepony cried, and a chorus of agreement rose around her as they broke out of their initial shock.

Heather flicked her tail, scattering even more rainbows on the ground. She lifted a hoof and examined it. Light played off it in prismatic display as well.

Bob stepped forward. "Was that supposed to happen, Heather?"

Heather kept staring at her hoof as she replied, "I'm not sure. I think so." She set down her hoof and looked towards Bob. "I think this is temporary in nature, though."

Bob smiled. "Still, it looks nice."

Heather turned to face him. "Did it work? Did I do it right?"

"I saw more domes of light off in the distance," Bob explained. "So it looks like it's working. I guess this means there won't be any more humans turning into ponies."

Heather had been told that this was the means by which they had hoped to cure ETS in those who had yet to transform, but hearing it and doing it weighed differently in her mind. She had used some sort of new talent to actually propagate a worldwide cure. She could have only dreamed of doing something so critically important back when she was a human nurse.

"Bob, you seem to know more about magic than anypony," Heather said, her voice tinged with desperation. "Something happened to me, and I don't just mean the shiny new coat. Something I did helped this directly. I wasn't just a relay."

Bob paused. "I don't think I quite know enough about magic to talk intelligently about that. What happened?"

"It was like I found some sort of other magic out there and drew it in and ... well, changed it somehow."

"Maybe you should talk to Kevin when he gets back," said Bob. "He might be able to put you in touch with somepony who can talk to you about this."

"I really hope so, this is important to me," said Heather. "I've been struggling with what I'm supposed to be doing now. Maybe this will give me some sort of clue."

"He's always done what he can, so I'm sure he'll be able to do something for you."

Sarah drew close to her. "I'm sure you'll get this figured out."

Heather craned her neck and glanced at Sarah's haunches. "I see you have already."

Sarah smiled faintly. Upon her haunches was her cutie mark, a pottery jug with a crack down it's side and partially buried in dirt. "I actually had it figured out already, I just hadn't realized it until recently."

Heather stared at Sarah's cutie mark for another moment. Rumors had been flying about that getting one of them was a sort of final step, that the transformation was not really complete without it. Ponies seemed to feel a need to acquire one, though it varied in terms of how adamant they were about it. Some seemed not to be concerned over it at all, preferring to take their time to determine where their talents lay.

Heather could count herself among them now. She was not in a rush anymore to understand what would become of her. She wanted options; getting a cutie mark now, she felt, would close those off to her.





Seeing the big light show earlier had been a nice break in the routine, but it had not relieved Jenny of her burden of work. There was still simply a lot to do to get the settlement to where it could sustain itself on more than just native plants, flowers, and grasses.

After her transformation completed, Jenny could sense the same connection to the Earth that her fellow earth ponies could. With a little concentration, she could even make shoots grow, though not with the same aplomb as her father, who at the moment seemed to be the best at it out of any of them.

Having it explained to her exactly how everything had come about, and hearing how her mind had been messed with changed things only in her own head; she still had to help with everything else.

The stream that her sister and the other pegasi had made needed a few more adjustments. Where the unicorns were busy helping with the construction of a building to house grain, it had been left to the earth ponies to gather some more rocks to shore up a wall that diverted water towards what would be the first crop field.

Jenny rolled what had to be the twentieth such rock or so up to the wall. By now she was panting lightly and really wanted a bath. As if sensing her need, Harold said as she approached, "That should be the last one we need for now."

"Good," Jenny muttered as she turned around and bucked it the remaining distance.

Harold lifted a fore-hoof and neatly stopped the rock before it could hit the wall. "You okay, Jenny?"

Jenny turned back around. She opened her mouth to say something, looked at her father's concerned face, and aborted her original reply. "No, I'm fine. I just need a break."

"I'm sorry if I worked you a little too hard," said Harold.

"No, it's not ..." Jenny trailed off, then shook her head. "Never mind. Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all. I'll be back later."

"Sure thing."

Jenny could tell by the tone of her father's voice that he didn't believe her. He knew she was hiding something. By then, Jenny had told him everything about her suppressed memory thanks to Sunset, but that was it; any other revelations she had come to she had kept to herself.

Jenny thought briefly about seeking out James. Even if he didn't understand her completely or had no advice, he was a good listener. Jenny liked him, but didn't know whether she liked him in the same way that she was sure James liked her. Their relationship was nothing like what seemed to be developing between Bob and Tina; the mutual feeling there was obvious to anypony who took the time to look.

Just what she needed, more uncertainty in her life. In a way, she felt like she had reversed roles with her sister. Despite some additional introspection, Laura appeared determined  to continue in her role as a weather-controlling pegasus, gaining purpose where she had none, while Jenny had gone from having purpose -- such that it was -- to having nothing.

Being alone really was not an option anymore. She had to be with somepony, not so much out of herd instinct as just to satisfy her own desire to avoid isolating herself from everypony like she had done as a human. It was just a matter of who.

A moment later, the decision was answered for her. "Heya, Jenny!"

Jenny turned at the sound of the high-pitched, bubbly voice. A very pink earth pony mare with rather poofy hair almost literally bounced towards her, as if her hooves were spring-loaded. Her fur was so bright in hue that it made even Jenny's pink mane seem dull.

"Um, hi," Jenny said in an uncertain voice. "Have we met?"

"Nope!" the pink pony chirped. "Well, actually, since we're meeting right now, you could say we have met. Oh, but not a meeting like in a stuffy conference room kind of meeting, just a meeting where we, you know, meet." She suddenly giggled. "I really love English, you can do so many funny things with the words!"

At first, Jenny wondered how somepony could talk in such a strange manner, until she realized that may be exactly how Jenny had sounded to others when she immersed herself in her fantasies and described everything through that lens. "Except I don't know your name."

"Oh, right! I'm Pinkie Pie."

That name seemed oddly appropriate in Jenny's view. It also helped identify this mare somewhat. "You're one of the alien ponies?"

Pinkie smiled. "I sure am. Betcha never thought aliens would ever look like this, huh?"

Jenny had to smile faintly at that. "So what can I do for you?"

"I just want to meet everypony here. Back home, I know everypony's name in Ponyville."

Jenny blinked. "Ponyville? Seriously, that's the name of your home town?"

"Yep!" said Pinkie.

Jenny had to remember to go talk to Laura later and let her know what name not to suggest for the settlement.

"Well, it's my home now, not where I grew up," Pinkie added.

"Yeah, I know how that goes," Jenny said. "I was born in Grand Junction."

"Oo, really? What kind of junction do they have there and why is it so grand? It must be really cool to go back to visit and see it."

Jenny just barely managed not to laugh. "Uh, no, the town is named that for, um, other reasons which I don't recall right now. Sorry."

Pinkie waved a hoof. "Aw, that's okay. But do you go back to visit sometimes? I know I like to go back to the family rock farm to see my parents and sisters from time to time."

Jenny was about to answer the initial question when her mind picked up the unexpected word. "Um ... did you say rock farm?"

"Yep," said Pinkie. "My family's been rock farmers for generations. My sister Maud is about to graduate with her rocktorate, and then her whole life will be about rocks!" She paused and looked thoughtful. "Well, really, her whole life was already about rocks, but now it'll be official!"

Jenny stood in abject confusion, and not just from Pinkie's convoluted speech pattern. She glanced at Pinkie's cutie mark. Balloons? "So ... you're a rock farmer?" Jenny asked tentatively.

"Oh, not at all, not anymore," said Pinkie. "Used to be, but that stopped after I got my cutie mark."

"What about crop farming?"

"Nope, none of that, ever."

"But--"

Pinkie giggled. "In fact, this really funny thing happened -- well, it's funny now, but not so much at the time -- where Twilight accidentally swapped our cutie marks around, and I got Applejack's, and, oh boy, I couldn't buck an apple tree for love nor money!"

"Wait, stop," Jenny pleaded. "Back up a second. You're an earth pony back home, and you don't farm crops?"

"No, I don't," said Pinkie. "And guess what, Jenny?"

"What?"

"Go on, guess!"

Jenny managed to suppress a sigh. "Okay, fine, I see where this is going. You're telling me I don't have to farm, either."

Pinkie threw up her fore-legs. "Yay, you got it! See, I told Twilight that talking to you all wouldn't be hard."

"But this is different," Jenny protested. "I have to."

"Why?"

"How are we going to get the settlement going if I don't?"

"When I left the farm, my sisters simply took over for me," said Pinkie. "And my parents make enough bits to hire additional help when they need it."

Jenny sighed in exasperation. "You don't understand. I can't make it all about me anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you have any idea how much I annoyed people when all I cared about was my own needs."

"But do you like what you're doing?"

Jenny suppressed her initial response and said instead, "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it matters, Jenny," Pinkie said. "Do you know why I left the rock farm?"

"You already told me. You got your cutie mark, and it had nothing to do with rocks."

"Well, sort of," said Pinkie. "Yeah, it's what convinced me that my future lay somewhere else, but you know what? I hated rock farming."

Jenny tilted her head. "You did?"

"Yeah. And I was even good at it, too! I was the only one my sister Limestone never yelled at. She's, ah, the bossy one of the family, you see."

Jenny hesitated, then glanced back at the others.

"You don't like farming, do you?" Pinkie asked in a more serious voice.

Jenny had run out of resolve. She turned back to Pinkie and said, "No, I hate it. It's just a chore to me. I can do all these things like make plants grow, but I don't want to."

"I understand that maybe the settlement here needs everypony they can get for now, but that's not going to be forever," said Pinkie. "You can do whatever you want."

"That's just it, I don't know what I want."

Pinkie smiled. "Neither did I! I only knew I wanted to do something other than rock farming. It wasn't until later I figured out what I really wanted."

Jenny glanced at her blank haunches.

"And you don't have to wait until you get a cutie mark to do something else," said Pinkie. "I didn't get my cutie mark until after I did something that was just so totally different from rock farming. I found what I wanted to do first and then just did it."

Jenny could still remember some of those conversations with Laura when everything started happening. She had exasperated her sister without knowing quite how. Everything was supposed to revolve around Jenny and her desires, so naturally she had little understanding of what she was doing. Trying to blame Sunset only went so far.

"I just don't want to look selfish," said Jenny in a low voice.

"But you're not," said Pinkie. "Jenny, even after I knew I was going to be leaving the farm, I kept helping out. You're doing the same thing. Sometimes we have to do what we don't want for a while until we figure out what we do want. But wanting to know what we really want is not being selfish. Not liking what we're doing at the moment but knowing it has to be done for now is not being selfish, either."

Jenny looked back towards her father, who was showing some other earth ponies the finer points of arranging the soil properly when seeding it. Ever since he had fully transformed, he had remained enthusiastic about the idea of returning to farming. "What about your family?"

"What about them?" Pinkie asked.

Jenny looked back towards Pinkie. "How did they react when you told them?"

"They were sad to see me go," said Pinkie. "But they understood. In fact, you know what my father told me? He said he wished I had told him sooner how I felt about rock farming."

"He did?"

Pinkie smiled wanly. "I think he kinda already knew something was up with me. Parents are like that, you know, no matter what world they come from." She giggled. "I think it helped I told him after he had just enjoyed the first real party in his life."

Jenny had not wanted to admit her biggest fear, that she would disappoint her father, or that it would somehow cause a rift between them. She didn't want to damage the relationship they now had, something she had wanted for such a long time. That it had been originally built off her Sunset-induced need for fantasy didn't even really matter to her.

She tried to tell herself that Harold would be the last one to be upset with her considering how he had a similar situation with his own father, but that was more convincing when Jenny thought farming itself had been the central issue.

And yet her father knew something was going on. Jenny couldn't hide it from him forever.

Jenny took a deep breath. "Okay, then, how about this? What if what I want turns out to be, well, not being a pony anymore?"

"It's kinda hard for me to answer that," Pinkie said. "Since I've been a pony all my life, and you don't look any different from ones back home. But, then again, things are different here. There are things that can happen here that can't back home. So, really, anything you can do here is fair game."

Jenny nodded slowly. She had no idea if she would ever go that route, as it still felt natural to be in pony form despite her recent revelations on how she got there. She simply wanted her options open.

"If it helps any, I don't think you need to go as far as telling them you might want to be human again," said Pinkie. "But I think you do need to tell your parents how you feel about farming. They'll understand."

Jenny wasn't worried about her mother, not after Sarah had received her cutie mark. Jenny almost envied her in a way. "It's more my father I'm worried about, but, yeah, I guess you're right."

Pinkie smiled and pulled Jenny into a brief hug. "Aww, I'm glad I helped. Hey, you know, my friend Dashie was talking about wanting to train pegasi here, and Applejack was talking about wanting to give the earth pony farmers some advice. Maybe I can do something for ponies who don't know what they quite want to do yet."

"There is something I don't get, though," Jenny said. "You said you had tried farming but couldn't do it. Don't you still have the basic abilities even if you don't use them?"

Pinkie giggled. "Jenny, I've discovered I have magic that's all my own. Just because life hands you something doesn't mean you can't change it. Maybe you'll be like me and discover magic that's unique to you." She smiled. "Or maybe you'll become human again and design the next big tech gadget or something. Who knows?"

Jenny smiled. For the first time in the past few days, the future didn't seem quite as daunting to her. "Thanks for talking to me, Pinkie. You really did help."





Despite working hard at whatever task the hospital staff gave her, Eileen did feel a twinge of guilt. Here she was enjoying the benefits of electricity courtesy of the hospital's backup generators where many in several states were without power. Had she stayed in Denver, she'd be in the dark and likely with a fridge full of spoiling food.

Then again, had she never come to Lazy Pines, she probably would be on her way to becoming a pony and simply not care about the apartment anymore. From what little she could glean from the news reports on the TVs that the staff kept on in many areas, Denver had more ponies than humans now. A rumor was circulating that about half a dozen of Colorado's politicians in the United States House of Representatives and one in the Senate were ponies now as well. 

Like the rest of the staff, she had been warned about the incoming wave of magic, and many of them crowded around TVs to see what the news made of it. Eileen would have preferred to stick to her duties to take her mind off it, but some of the other staff had insisted she take a break. Apparently, more people at the hospital than she had realized appreciated her volunteering to help; they had lost far more staff than they had let on.

It came and went so fast that Eileen would have doubted it had actually happened had it not been for the small cheer raised by the other members of staff. It was little more than a wall of light that zipped through the building as if it had no substance. Eileen felt nothing when it passed through her.

"How the hell do we even know if it worked?" Eileen said after the initial mirth died down.

"Sandra had a few patients moved here who would be showing the first symptoms of ETS soon," said Kevin.

Eileen was aware of that. One of her tasks was to change bed linens of those patients. In a few cases, they still had some lingering flu symptoms, and she worried she'd get it all over again despite assurances that she should be immune to that strain now.

"We were given gemstones that we can hold near them, and they would tell us if the original transformation spell had been neutralized," he continued. "Those tests are being done as we speak."

Eileen was still quite astonished as to how accepting these people were of what to her still seemed like a lot of snake oil. She still glanced at herself in mirrors for any sign that her hair was starting to change color. So far, the same human she had grown used to -- sometimes sick of -- seeing for so many years continued to stare back at her.

Then again, she supposed desperation does a lot to people. Certainly that was the mood of the news reporters, whose numbers had been dropping as the flu spread like wildfire. She was told that while this counterspell thing would stop new transformations, it wouldn't stop the flu, so that simply had to burn itself out.

What really drove home the point of just how much this had affected the country were the reporters who themselves sported discolored hair and eyes, and in one case -- despite her attempts to hide them with a hat -- pony ears. In past times of crisis, it always seemed like news reporters enjoyed some sort of immunity, even the ones that did -- in her mind -- stupid things like stand in the wind and rain during a hurricane. She would hear of the occasional reporter or cameraman killed in the Mideast, but that did not happen often.

Eileen's thoughts were pulled back from their wanderings when the reporter who was describing what she was seeing concerning the magic was interrupted by the news anchor.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Sally," said the anchor as the camera cut back to him. "But we're getting an update concerning the large western power failure. As we mentioned earlier, Brad was flying by helicopter over one of the areas affected by the blackout when he saw a small rural town with most of its lights on and went to investigate. We have a live feed from him now. Brad?"

The camera view shifted, and Eileen blinked. Several other staff members with her leaned in closer, likely as surprised and puzzled as she. The reporter referred to as Brad was not on camera. Instead, in the distance, two unicorns levitated something between them that looked like a piece of machinery as several humans directed them. One of the humans present appeared to be a county sheriff.

"This was the scene about a half hour ago," said a voice off-camera. "A group of ponies claiming to be from a nearby settlement showed up with these diesel generators they had owned as humans. One of them claimed to be a former electrical engineer, and he instructed the humans how to hook them up."

Now the reporter appeared, the lights on in a building behind him, a few ponies lingering about speaking with the humans. The sheriff's car was parked off to the side, and there appeared to be someone sitting in the back seat. The diesel generators were a faint, dull roar in the background. "This was, of course, completely unexpected but very welcome to the members of this town. While it was only a tiny gesture, as there are many millions more still in the dark, it may just be some sort of sign of what the future has to bring. We've been all speculating about the changed social landscape of America after this, even if there would be a single United States anymore. Perhaps this is encouraging, even if it almost didn't happen."

"Almost didn't happen?" came the voice of the news anchor.

"Yes, when the ponies first arrived, not everyone was willing to accept their help or even their presence." The camera briefly swung towards the sheriff's car before he nodded to what was likely his cameraman. "Let's roll that footage from earlier."

Eileen flinched when the next scene plunged them immediately into action, the camera pointed mostly at the ground with glimpses of running feet. Shouts and exclamations in the distance became brief screams when the crack of a rifle was heard.

The camera finally settled down, peeking out from behind a dumpster, as a man in overalls and carrying a rifle started shouting, "Get the fuck out of town! You're just gonna infect all of us and turn us into more of you!"

He took aim, and the rifle cracked several more times. The camera swung to the side to show several ponies ducking for cover. One was a pegasus, but rather than fly off, he stuck with his companions. "We only want to help!" he cried.

"I'll show you how you can help!" the man began as he leveled the rifle again.

"John, get your goddamn head out of your ass!" another voice shouted, and now a second man had joined the first. "We don't have any way to get more food right now. You want what we got in our fridges to spoil?!"

"Don't you go telling me what to do! You want us grazing in the fields like them?"

The second man decided not to continue the argument. He grabbed the first man's gun and swung it up just as another shot was squeezed off. Two more men jumped into the fray and wrestled him to the ground as a female voice off to the side screamed, "Don't hurt him!" The scene cut out a moment later.

Brad appeared again. "Apologies for the salty language, we don't have the ability here to properly censor it."

The news anchor's initial comments were drowned out when an orderly burst into the room. "We've got good news! Those gemstones are showing that the ETS patients we brought in are clean. It worked!"

Now a louder cheer went up that made listening to the rest of the news report almost impossible.

"Go tell Doctor Marlowe at once," said Kevin. "She'll want to know right away."

"Will do!" the orderly said before popping back out of the room.

Eileen turned to Kevin and said with a faint smirk, "So, snake oil saves the day."

"Apparently, yes," said Kevin with a small smile.

Eileen jerked a thumb towards the TV. "So what did you think of this?"

"Other than the gentlemen with the gun, it's encouraging. While I can't divulge all information that I am privy to for all sorts of silly secretive reasons, I can say that some thought is being put towards what things will look like when this is over."

Eileen nodded. "Now I just have to figure out how I fit into this post pony-apocalypse world. I doubt I can call Denver my home anymore. It's a bit frustrating to finally want to improve myself, but the world where I could've done that is gone."

Kevin leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. "In a way, I'm in the same boat. I'm not qualified to treat many of my former patients. I could move on, but I like living in Colorado too much to want to consider moving. So, I'm asking the same question: what to do now?"

Eileen smirked. "You could go into veterinary medicine."

Kevin chuckled, and Eileen was glad he could see the joke for what it was and not just simply correct her. She assumed maintaining the health of magical ponies was likely different from caring for animals. "I suppose I'm not so old that I can't learn something new," said Kevin. "I simply had hoped I had left the grueling days of my residency behind."

"That's just it, nothing's going to be easy now," said Eileen. "For me, it never was. It shouldn't have taken this near-extinction of the human race to convince me of that. I feel like the world suffered just to drive a point into my thick skull."

"I would look on it as a learning experience," said Kevin. "We all are. I daresay even your son is seeing it that way."

Eileen's eyebrows rose. "Bob? I thought he would've drunk from the same Kool-aide as the rest of them."

That had been her most troubling fear, that Bob had fallen for that stupid vision of pony utopia that its most ardent critics had touted as nothing less than an attempt at mass-brainwashing. One of her reasons for wanting to see Bob was to try to convince him to shake it off. The irony was not lost on her that it would be Eileen telling Bob the right way to live his life instead of the other way around.

"Let's just say he's been asking the right questions concerning the original vision," said Kevin.

Eileen uttered a relieved sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm going to ask this again, even though I know what the answer will likely be: can I see my son?"

"I believe I can arrange that."

Eileen blinked. "You can??"

"Assuming he wants to see you, but I imagine he would. I've already started the process. Sarah and Harold are fine with you seeing him."

Eileen paused to absorb this new shock before she finally said, "I should've known to come to you about this in the first place. You really do know how to cut through the bullshit."

"Admittedly, concerning the powers-that-be, it may be a case of asking for forgiveness rather than permission," said Kevin. "But despite my attempts to try to not play favorites among my patients, the Tanners hold a special place in my heart and always will."

"Yeah, I have to admit, even as much as I clashed with Harry, Sarah picked a good one. Had my ex been half the man he is, maybe I could've raised Bob properly." Eileen rolled her eyes. "Eh, there I go again, blaming my problems on others."

"Whereas, I had the opposite problem, where I went far too long blaming myself for my wife's death. We've both learned something from all this already."

Eileen grinned. "Sarah picked a damn good doctor, too."

Kevin smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate that. And like any good doctor, I will offer one last bit of advice."

"And that is?"

"Lose the cigarettes. They won't do you any good."

Eileen snorted and laughed. "Yeah, I knew you were going to say that."





Bob paused as he caught sight of his mother just before he would have emerged from the path that wound through the trees. It seemed like forever when he had last seen her despite only a few days passing, and it felt like the gulf that had existed between them had only grown wider in the interim. He watched as Eileen glanced about, looking uncertain. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, frowned, then shoved them back and folded her arms.

At first, Bob had been glad nopony had insisted on an escort for him. Technically, where Eileen stood was inside the bounds of the settlement, and the ponies were allowed to roam within those borders as much as they pleased. Eileen stood in an area where he and Kelly had found some more large rocks to bring back.

Bob caught movement off to the side. A Secret Service agent roamed at the border. He could hope that the man was out of earshot but wouldn't place a bet on it. When he realized that waiting was not going to make this any easier, he stepped forward.

His hoof-falls must have caught Eileen's attention, as she jerked her head towards Bob. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open for a moment before she thought better of it and closed it again. She forced herself to take on a less shocked expression and only partially succeeded. "Bob?" she finally said in a tentative voice.

Bob trotted over to her and sat, craning his neck slightly to look up at her. "Hi, Mom."

Eileen paused, as if simply not expecting her son's voice to come from this little green unicorn. She finally said, "Um, I guess I wasn't expecting you to be this small."

"Ponies apparently have different size ratios than humans concerning age," Bob explained. "From my observation, it seems to be that ponies stay smaller until reaching their late teens and then have a growth spurt. I just happen to be slightly under that threshold while Laura is just past it."

Eileen's lips tugged into a nervous smile. "Well, you certainly sound like my son. I'm glad this hasn't taken the science nerd out of you."

Bob found that statement comforting. He wanted to think something more significant than just his memories had come over from when he was human. The old him was still there, just with new features. Or at least that was his goal, to separate out what had been done to him so he could look at them more objectively and decide for himself what he wanted.

Eileen's gaze darted to her son's horn. She gestured to it. "So, does that thing work?"

Bob glanced around and found a small branch lying on the ground nearby. His horn glowed, and he levitated the branch before him, turning it around several times. "Quite well, actually," he said before setting it back down. "All the unicorns seemed to have been wired for this basic spell."

Eileen chuckled. "Spell? So are you going to try to be a great wizard now as well as a scientist?"

"I actually don't know what I'm going to do yet," said Bob.

Eileen considered. "Well, in a way, that's sorta good. I was worried you had the same pony commune thing going like the others."

"I do feel like I need to help them, but I'd like to think it's because I want to and not because some vision told me to."

"Bob, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. Can you say that at least?"

Bob hesitated. "I'm actually not sure."

"What do you mean?"

Bob wished he could put it into words that Eileen could understand. While she was no dummy, she was also not the most intellectual person in the world. He had to put things in more basic terms for her to understand, but many aspects of his introspection were too complex for that. "I can at least say that I'm comfortable in this body, but then again, that's an inherent part of the spell that got me this way in the first place."

"Yeah, but if I've learned anything in the past few days, it's this: being comfortable in your body doesn't mean you're comfortable with yourself."

Bob blinked. He had not at all expected his mother to come to that conclusion.

Eileen smirked faintly. "Even though you're a pony, I can tell that I just surprised you."

"I didn't mean it in a bad sense, Mom."

Eileen waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I've been figuring out things about myself that first Sarah and then you tried to tell me. I think I may be finally about to do something useful with my life."

Bob managed a small smile, though he could hear the undertone of pain to his mother's voice. Whatever revelation had come to her, it had affected her on a deep level. "I'm glad to hear that. It's not like ... I mean, it was always hard for us to connect, but now--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a pony and I'm still a human."

"I don't mean that."

Eileen hesitated. "You don't?"

"I'm still your son," Bob said in an earnest voice. "My species shift doesn't change that. What I meant was ... it's kind of hard to explain ... I've gone through something profound. It's made me question exactly what it means to be sapient, let alone human or pony. It's changed me in a way I don't think Sunset had intended. As profound as what you've gone through, it's not the same."

Eileen was quiet for a long moment. "I won't pretend to understand that, Bob. You always did talk a little above me."

"Sorry."

"No, don't be. Don't ever apologize for being smart, and don't ever feel you need to dumb yourself down for others."

Bob slowly smiled.

"See, that's what I was afraid of," Eileen said, her voice slightly choked. "I was afraid all this took that away from you. Maybe I'm misinterpreting some of the stuff I've seen on the news, or maybe they're just being doom-sayers and buying into the mass-brainwashing idea, but that's not what I wanted for you."

"Mom, could you come down here for a moment?"

Eileen stepped towards him and crouched. "Why? Is there something--?"

Bob threw his fore-legs around her and drew her into a hug. "There's another thing that hasn't changed: I love you."

Eileen tried to make a response, but all that came out was another choked noise. She finally wrapped her arms around Bob and hugged him back, her next breath catching as a soft sob.

Bob's own eyes welled up, and he squeezed them shut until the urge to cry had passed. He realized this was bittersweet; he and his mother were going to go their separate ways for a while. Bob had more introspection and self-discovery to do, his mother had her own self-improvement to work on. They were in different worlds now, and until a bridge had been built between them, it was best they focused on what mattered to each of them.

Bob drew back and gave her a tremulous smile, his eyes still glistening. "Hey, at least they tell me that I don't smell like horse."

Eileen chuckled weakly. "No, you don't." She lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of his mane back from his face. "And your fur and hair feels like you used a hundred gallons of conditioner on it."

"I'm told that pony hair is naturally softer than most terrestrial equine hair. I guess it goes with the colorful look."

"I have to ask you this, Bob," said Eileen. "Would you ever consider becoming human again if they work out how?"

"I honestly don't know yet," said Bob. "I'm trying to work on exactly what defines me apart from my body. I do know that Jenny might consider it."

"What about Sarah and Harry?"

"Sarah has a cutie mark," said Bob in a lower voice.

"Uh, what?"

"That mark some ponies have on their haunches. I think it makes the transformation permanent. Laura has one, too."

"Maybe I better just quit while I'm ahead," Eileen said. She gave Bob another hug. "And I love you, too, and I always will, no matter what happens."

Bob hugged her back, feeling less sad about it now. Perhaps they would not see each other again for a while, but it won't be forever. In that time, he hoped he would have his own head sorted out. If not, at least he hoped he would have some interesting tales to tell.
> Epilogue: The First Steps ...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Twilight stepped into the conference room for the last time, it was no longer with a sense of dread. Instead, she felt a bit of melancholy. She had grown to admire and respect many of the humans she had worked with here. After that day, the Emergency Zone was to be dismantled, and relief and recovery efforts moved to another facility.

Even the town of Lazy Pines itself was no longer what it once was. It had officially ceased to exist in the month since the ETS counterspell was mass-cast. Hazmat teams had come in to clear out spoiled food from markets and homes, but houses that had burned down from accidental fires were left to sit in ruin. Technically, nearly all the homes in town were in foreclosure, yet there wasn't enough recovered infrastructure to put the requisite signs up.

The notable exception was Kevin's home, but even he expressed no desire to return to it, considering he would be living in a town with a population of one. Instead, he quietly cleared the house of anything of sentimental value, emptied the fridge, and turned everything off.

Not even Sunset's human home was special anymore. Once Twilight had designed what she called Magic Mirror Mark II, the original portal was shut down for good. The mirror would be moved later that day to a permanent facility on the east coast. The scientists she had been surrounded with would start to be replaced with diplomats, politicians, and economists. While gaining an understanding of magic was still important, getting humanity back on its feet was more so.

Twilight could at least look forward to longer in-person meetings with the United States President. So far, her only exposure to him other than over teleconference had been his visit to the Emergency Zone operations two weeks prior, an event that had been more for the press than anything else. It had been intended to give the impression that things were under control even though they were still far from that point.

Twilight hopped into her seat as the Secret Service agents assigned to her closed the door behind her. She looked over the familiar faces for a lingering moment as if to fix them in her memories. She took a deep breath and said, "Okay, what's the final verdict?"

She had sensed that the mood at the table was the lightest it had been in a long while, thus she anticipated good news. Sandra even smiled as she consulted one of her folders. "The Equestrian mages are seeing almost total success in reversing the partial transformations that have reached no further than the appearance of a tail, and up to eighty percent success in those that have the modified ears."

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. "They're not having any trouble with the lingering concentrations of transformation magic?"

"Not since you struck on the idea of pairing each mage with a crystal pony."

Twilight slowly smiled. Once she had discovered the crystal pony ability to transform one kind of magic into another, it didn't take long for her and Sunburst to come up with a means to use them to help drain the remaining pool of transformation magic. That had slowed and stopped the ongoing transformations, and those who had not progressed too far had presented an opportunity to recover most of their original human morphic resonance.

Yet not everything was rosy. They still had some in a partially transformed state. Some were complaining bitterly about the failure to change them back to human. A few were demanding to be allowed to complete the transformation. Yet what was really on Twilight's mind was the biggest remaining issue, and thus she asked, "Do we have final numbers on how many humans are completely transformed?"

"I'll defer to Mr. Heller on that one," said Sandra.

Anthony leaned forward in his seat and laced his fingers together. "This is a rough estimate only, but it is around three hundred and twenty-six million worldwide. Of that, the number in the United States is a hair over ninety million." He paused. "So the numbers wound up about between the best and worse case scenarios."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "That's just over a quarter of the US population. Where are they concentrated the most?"

"The Front Range and other western states, plus parts of the Midwest, southwest, and Pacific northwest. We also have a few large populations in Florida and parts of the south. Least affected appear to be the east coast and northern states, but there really isn't a single state in the union other than Hawaii that doesn't have at least some transformed population." Anthony turned towards Twilight. "However, I'm hoping to hear something that may reduce those numbers."

"And I may have some good news for you in that regard," Twilight said in a cautious voice. "Sunburst and I studied the results of the first efforts to apply the reversal spell. It may be possible to build on that and craft a new reverse-transformation spell that will turn a fully transformed person back to human."

Several audible sighs of relief rippled through the attendees.

"However, there are two matters to be considered," Twilight declared. "First: time. What's making this even possible in the first place is the fact that the morphic resonance contains a faint echo of its original human composition. Not enough to put the person back to exactly what they were before, but close. However, the more time passes, the more that echo fades, and the harder it will be to get anything close to what they were before."

"Our government and its allies are committed to doing whatever it takes to reverse this," said Anthony. "What's the second matter?"

Twilight hesitated. She had not wanted to stir the pot when things were looking up, but she had no choice. "Second ... the willingness of the transformed to become human again."

Anthony sighed and wiped his face with his hand, "Twilight, with all due respect, that is a matter best left to--"

"It has nothing to do with morality or ethics!" Twilight exclaimed. "It has to do with the limitation of the reverse-transformation spell."

"Sunset's original spell did not have such a limitation."

"No, because it's not at all the same thing. Her spell selected an appropriate pony form for them based on outside criteria. Here we're trying to take a pony and put them back to where they were when they started. That's a completely different effort. Otherwise, it becomes not a reverse-transformation spell but just another transformation spell. It again comes back to what I said before: do we craft whatever human form we think is okay for them just for the sake of changing them back to human? Isn't that just another case of making a decision for them?"

"The general consensus is still that they are not of their right mind."

"Yes, I know," Twilight said in a testy voice. "You don't need to keep reminding me of that. I'm telling you what your options are. If you want things back to the way they were, it has to be with their consent. They have to be in touch with their humanity for the spell to work properly."

Silence greeted her as Anthony glanced at the others. Twilight realized perhaps she was being somewhat idealistic in her belief that the transformed could indeed think for themselves, and perhaps her judgment was a bit colored by the fate the humans chose for Sunset, but she couldn't help it if the magic happened to work that way.

At least for what she was willing to craft for them.

"The only alternative is a generic transformation spell that will put them back to only an approximate semblance of what they were," said Twilight in a low voice. "But, again, you would be forced into choosing for them what you think is best, and I don't believe that's any better than what's already happened to them. I think the reverse-transformation spell will work better in the long run."

"You said there was a time limitation," said Anthony. "How much are we talking about here?"

"In that regard, I have more good news. It will take another six to eight months before the echo is untenable for a successful reverse-transformation. Of course, the sooner you do it, the better."

Kevin turned to Anthony. "To me, that sounds like the best possible compromise."

"In what way?" Anthony asked.

"Think about the logistics," said Kevin. "Rather than having to go to them, you can have them come to you by setting up facilities where they can have the spell applied. Then you can instead focus on efforts to convince people to change back rather than dealing with the ethical issues of forcing yet another transformation on them."

"That was my thinking as well," said Twilight. "I've found that humans are very good at setting up large organizations. I suggest calling it something like Return To Humanity, or maybe the Humanization Bureau. You can probably come up with a catchier name than I can."

"With as stretched as resources are, I have to concur," Sandra said. "I think that idea has the best chance of working."

"And you may already have someone willing to be one of the first to take advantage of this," said Kevin. "My understanding is that Jenny Tanner is contemplating becoming human again."

Twilight tried to take that as more good news. She had hoped to save some of the Tanner family, yet now Sarah, Laura, and more recently, Harold all had cutie marks. Only Jenny and Bob didn't, and Bob was still contemplating what he wanted to do. 

Bob was an interesting case, and Twilight hoped to have a chance to talk to him before she relocated to the east coast. Despite still being on the fence about whether he wanted to remain a pony, he was the most accomplished in magic of any of the transformed that she knew.

"At the same time, I must advise that there is an added complication," said Sandra. "As of the last set of medical examinations on the residents of first settlement, we've confirmed three new pregnancies among the mares."

"No reverse-transformation will be possible for them," Twilight said. "Their unborn foals have no echoes of humanity in their morphic resonance. I've already confirmed that."

"We can't tell people not to get pregnant," said Anthony.

"No, but we can advise them of the risks, just like we can concerning acquiring a cutie mark. It's all we can do right now, but out of everything else we've come up with, this is the most viable."

Anthony considered. "If you came up with a more generic human transformation spell--"

"I would strongly object to it being used on unborn foals," said Twilight. "And I sincerely doubt you'll find an Equestrian mage who would be willing to cast it, and I'm not about to force them to do it. I'll be brutally honest with you all: I do not sanction the idea of forcing another transformation on any of them. I will defer to your government authorities as much as I am able, but I'm not willing to compromise my beliefs."

Sandra turned towards Anthony. "I'm going to have to agree with Twilight here. There are cases where this transformation effectively removed any emotional or psychological trauma that they were going through. If there's even the slightest chance that a forceful reversal of the transformation will bring that back, you may be hard-pressed to find physicians willing to sanction it. Then there are concepts we still debate vociferously among ourselves that the transformation 'solved' for them, such as gender identity, and thus you run the risk of someone with an agenda making a decision for them."

Anthony folded his hands under his chin and was silent for a few moments. When he finally spoke, it was in measured tones. "All this will have to be decided at a higher level, so I suggest that Twilight make her case to them once she transfers to the new facility."

"But what's your opinion, Mr. Heller?" Twilight asked.

"Does it matter?"

"To me, it does," Twilight said. "Maybe we haven't seen eye to eye on everything, but I have a large measure of respect for you. Your opinion matters to me."

Anthony smiled faintly, and he lowered his hands. "Yes, I think what you propose is what we should do going forward. To be perfectly blunt, the government is running on fumes at this point. We've exhausted almost all our resources just trying to keep the lights on in this country, and having the burden of chasing down the transformed and applying a new spell to them is just one more thing we can't handle right now."

"That's ... quite an admission," Kevin said in a soft voice.

"And certainly not one that the President wants the media to hear," said Anthony. "It could be seen as giving up and letting the transformed fend for themselves. The fact that they can indeed fend for themselves is a double-edged sword in this case. Right now, there's a huge split in this country. We have humans wanting everything to return to normal and seeing the transformed as a threat to that, and we have transformed humans in varying states of thought as to how to handle this."

"What was that?" Sandra said. "Are you saying they're not all following Sunset's vision?"

"So what Princess Luna did is working?" Twilight said in a hopeful voice.

"If by 'working' you mean general confusion, then I suppose so," Anthony said. "It seems to depend on the size of the community. Large communities are tending to remain insular and detached, while smaller ones are more willing to engage with humans or even live among them. One of the reasons our tech sector has been impacted so badly is due to the large concentration of IT industry that was based in Denver, which has effectively become a huge pony commune."

"It's a start," Twilight said. "A first step."

"Yes, it is." Anthony drew back slightly. "And unless there is anything else, I have an announcement to make. After today, I will be officially off the recovery project."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Heller," Twilight said.

"I hope you didn't get on someone's bad side when you conveyed some of our more radical ideas," said Kevin.

Anthony chuckled briefly. "While I have been ruffling numerous feathers, that is not the reason for my departure. They didn't remove me, I am removing me."

"I don't understand," Twilight said.

"I stated right from the start that I am not a diplomat, but I was retained for my organizational skills, among other things. At this point, I feel my talents could be best served elsewhere. I've asked to be 'demoted' so to speak back to a field agent. The FBI is forming a new group dedicated towards helping protect the transformed, and I intend to be part of it."

Twilight slowly smiled.

"I still hope for the day that we can transform back as many as possible, but the message is coming through loud and clear," said Anthony. "There will be a pony population on this planet for the foreseeable future, and as long as those in this country continue to be considered Americans, I have a sworn duty to protect them." He paused. "Regardless of whether they're Americans or not, I feel they don't deserve to be persecuted for what they've become. Even those who believe they need to remain ponies are only doing what the rest of us are: trying to survive and protect themselves and their families." He glanced around. "Meeting adjourned."

Twilight hopped down from her seat and trotted over to Anthony. "Mr. Heller--"

"Please, call me Anthony. I'm not in any official capacity on this project now."

Twilight smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that I hope I'll see you again."

Anthony grinned. "I'm sure our paths will cross again. I did want to ask you something, though."

"Of course."

"This lingering echo of humanity that you discovered. Is that something Sunset would've ever known about?"

"I doubt it. I didn't even realize it was there myself until the first results came back from the initial attempts to reverse the partially transformed. It was an unexpected but pleasant surprise."

"Any explanation for it that won't require me to know how magic works?"

Twilight considered. "One thing that has impressed me constantly is humanity's sheer tenacity and resolve. I think the reason you're like that is because you were forced to build an entire civilization without magic. You fought every inch of the way to get where you are now. Over the millennia, that likely affected your morphic resonance. It became just as tough as humanity had to be."

Anthony smiled. "Thank you for that. I should tell you something: we've been shielding you from being pummeled with requests for your time from the physicists."

"I'm sure they will want to work with me to understand magic better."

"It's more than that," said Anthony. "They've already been looking into it. They've dug up old reports from their particle accelerator research which showed anomalous events that they could never reproduce. Most had been relegated to errors in equipment or theory. They're starting to see patterns emerge. Another first step."

Twilight smiled. "Yes, another first step."





Kevin had wanted to talk to Twilight one more time, but when he saw her talk to Anthony first, he bided his time waiting outside the room. He was relieved to see Twilight emerge in good spirits. It was a far cry from that first week following Sunset's death, when it seemed like she didn't want to speak to anyone outside an official capacity.

She even trotted right over to him when she saw him standing there. "Kevin, this may be the last time we see each other for a while. I just wanted to tell you what a great pleasure it's been working with you."

Kevin smiled. "I share the same sentiment. I admit, I never once thought I would actually meet a being from another world, and certainly not in this context."

"I'm really hoping that context will change for the better eventually, but that day is likely still far off," said Twilight in a more somber voice.

"If you don't mind me asking, how are you holding up concerning your aunt's passing? If you need to talk to anyone before you go, please, don't hesitate."

Twilight gave him a faint smile. "Thank you, Kevin. I realize you've lost someone close to you as well."

"I know from my own experience that it led to a lot of resentment on my part," Kevin explained. "I went through a rather dark period. I saw you starting to go through the same during those first few days. I wanted to approach you, but ..."

"I know, I didn't make it any easier." Twilight hesitated, then continued in a lower voice. "I'll be honest with you, Kevin. Those first few days ... I was really pushing myself. I didn't want to. After casting the counterspell, I wanted to just walk away from it all. I felt it didn't have to happen that way, that Sunset could've been given another chance. We'll never know now if she could have ever turned around. I guess I do still harbor some resentment over it."

"That you've continued to remain dedicated to helping us is appreciated." Kevin glanced the way Anthony had gone. "Mr. Heller ... ah, Anthony, that is ... confided in me that the decision was not made lightly. They knew they were risking opening a rift with your world. Perhaps they could be considered guilty of some of the cold calculation that Sunset was accused of."

"Celestia feels it could've been handled better," said Twilight. "But she sees this action as more tragic than hostile. We tend to forgive as much as we can, and this was much more of a challenge than usual." Twilight paused. "We're still working through it, but we see the bigger picture as more important. At least most of us do."

"Most?"

Twilight sighed. "The Canterlot nobles are not happy, and that's an understatement. While they have no direct political power over Celestia and Luna, they do have the ability to influence public opinion. Even though our rulers would be considered absolute monarchs in your culture, they value freedom, and they don't want to censor anyone. To be honest, no outcome would've pleased the nobles except Sunset being returned to Equestria, and that was just not possible."

"I honestly don't know what would've been better myself," said Kevin. "Killing Sunset outright seemed a bit shortsighted on the one hand, but I can see where a trial could have easily become an utter spectacle and possibly sparked more resentment of Equestria."

"Everyone made mistakes," Twilight said. "The end result is the same: there's a mess to clean up."

Kevin understood this perhaps more than Twilight realized. The great tragedy was not that Sunset had been killed, but how it had happened. It had been effectively a premeditated suicide. In his darkest moments following his wife's death, those dangerous thoughts had flitted across his own mind. Fortunately, he had a friend to help pull him back from the brink and seek counseling.

Perhaps there were those who were taking solace in Sunset's passing, or perhaps even rejoicing over it. Kevin could not help but feel a little sorry for her instead. "Is your family coping?"

"As well as can be expected," said Twilight. "We held a quiet, private funeral for her. Just immediate family. We tried to focus on the good things about her, at least what we remembered of her."

Kevin was glad to hear that Twilight's family had some closure. In a way, it was something the Earth needed now. The old world that people knew only a few months ago was effectively dead, but no one wanted to acknowledge it yet. People were still waiting for something that would never come. Something new had to rise in its place. Now he had some idea how the people of Europe felt just after World War II. All he could hope for was that history did not repeat itself with two allies of the war becoming enemies afterward.

"But enough about the past," Twilight said in a more light-hearted voice. "I was curious as to what you were going to do now that the Emergency Zone operations are being disbanded?"

Kevin gave her a wan smile. "Now, that's an interesting question. I've been offered a position on the staff that's going to remain here to oversee the pony settlements in this part of Colorado. It would make my unofficial position more official."

Twilight smiled. "That's great news! You were getting along really well with all the ponies there as it was."

"I won't say that the position doesn't have it's merits, but I miss the medical field." He chuckled briefly. "If I were a pony, I'd likely have a caduceus as a cutie mark. The only problem is that in order to remain in any sort of medical capacity, I would have to move to an area with more humans, and I really like living in Colorado."

"Yes, I see what you mean," Twilight said in a more somber voice. "Ever since I moved to Ponyville, I really don't see myself living anywhere else. I've been spending so much time here that I miss it terribly."

"This leads me to ask a question of you. While I know there's already been some exchange of information with the arrival of Equestrian healers, and as much I don't care for the idea of having to effectively go back to school, would there be a means by which I -- and physicians on this world in general -- could learn pony medicine?"

"Of course!" Twilight said. "It was always my intention to initiate a cultural exchange. I just don't know when that will start, as there's so much else to be done first. I personally would love for some humans to come see Equestria." She paused. "Um, there would be some restrictions, of course."

"I can guess," said Kevin. "No firearms."

"That and perhaps a few others, but nothing extreme. I want the ponies of Equestria to see that humans are not all that different from them in many ways. I would be happy to forward your name as one of those first people."

Kevin thought it rather ironic that he occasionally floated the idea of going abroad for a vacation or sabbatical and never followed up on it. Now his first chance to do so would be on another world. "I would appreciate that, thank you." He crouched beside Twilight and offered his hand. "Until we meet again, I wish you well."

Twilight started to raise her fore-hoof to his, then smiled and wrapped her fore-legs around him in a hug instead.

Kevin realized he should have expected that, with Equestrians being more demonstrative of their feelings than most humans were. He gladly accepted the embrace and returned it freely, finding her fur just as soft as the transformed. Twilight's eyes were glistening as she drew back, and Kevin felt his own throat tighten a bit. He really was going to miss this purple pony princess.





The government can work fast when it needs to, and never more so when someone steps down from a sensitive position, thereby prompting a need for their security access to be revoked or reclassified. Thus when Anthony wanted to place one last phone call, he had to do it via a colleague. After a long wait, the agent said, "Yes, sir, here he is," before handing his phone to Anthony.

Anthony nodded as he took the phone. "Thank you for agreeing to talk to me one more time, Mr. President."

"I guess it's a faint hope that this call is to tell me you've come to your damn senses and will accept that position on the Recovery Committee," said the President.

Anthony managed a small smile, though it was partially forced. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir, but I hope you understand my reasons for passing."

"Not completely, but it's your decision to make, and I'll respect that." The President sighed. "I just like having people around who know how to get things done."

"Yes, but you don't need people around who might be at loggerheads with you," said Anthony. "We may have been on the same page when this all started, but our views on how to approach things going forward are diverging."

"Normally I would prefer having contrary opinions around me to keep me balanced, but I'm having enough of a fight with my own political party."

"How are things in Congress right now?" Anthony asked.

"Better you don't ask," the President grumbled. "During the crisis, they were a paragon of bipartisanship, and now as they contemplate how the hell to deal with the post-ETS situation, that's starting to break down. The little surprise we got today is not helping."

"Washington has been rather clamped down in the past week," said Anthony. "So much so that even my clearance couldn't reach."

"This is just starting to become breaking news in the media. We've been trying to reach out to members of Congress who had left Washington for their families when things got bad. The surprise we got was the arrival of twenty Representatives of the House and three Senators reporting for work. All ponies."

Anthony let out the breath he had been holding as a windy sigh.

"They're demanding to be allowed their seats in Congress," the President continued. "Neither party knows what the hell to do with them. Some of them really do represent the new demographics of their respective areas, but where they don't, their human constituents are likely going to demand recall elections in a nation that can't support that sort of nonsense right now. Even without their official seats, they've been agitating for the rights of the transformed."

"That was something I believe you championed yourself, Mr. President."

"Yes, I did, but I would have appreciated it being a little less in-your-face," The President said. "And don't even get me started about the fundie groups complaining that they go around naked all the time."

"Now you see why I made my decision," Anthony said. "I think this is going to be in our faces no matter what we do. In that, Doctor Conner was right; we have an enormous short term problem that has to be tackled, and I feel the best way I can do it is at street level, not behind a desk."

"You never did come to terms with our decision to terminate Sunset."

"No, I didn't," Anthony said in a sharper voice. "I still think perhaps we should have handled that better and shown Equestria that human justice can be fair, if harsh by their standards. I feel an opportunity was missed. At the same time, I understand why the decision was made, and I don't really harbor any resentment towards it. I carried out that order because it was my duty to my country."

"I appreciate your candor and your loyalty, Heller," said the President in a more subdued voice.

"Did you get my last report concerning Twilight's suggestion about how to deal with transforming people back?"

"Yes, I did. Goddamn, that's going to look like we're just sitting on our hands waiting for something to happen. This isn't like opening clinics to dispense a cure or vaccine. We'd be beating off people with a stick in that case. Now we're being asked to rely on millions of people who have no problem with having hooves instead of hands and feet to just waltz into these centers and ask to be human again."

"My opinion on the questionable mental state of the transformed has not changed," said Anthony. "But we can't force a cure on ninety million people. It's just not feasible."

"Right now, a quarter of this country effectively ceased to exist," said the President. "Yes, thanks to the efforts of Princess Luna, these pony communes are trying to reach out to humans, but the National Guard is stretched to the limits trying to keep order in areas where that resulted in conflict. Perhaps ponies are generally non-violent, but you do not want to cross an earth pony protecting friends and family. And then there are a few towns out in rural America that managed to avoid ETS. They have no pony population per se but are deciding to send some sort of message by putting up signs on their stores saying 'no ponies allowed'." A thump of a fist against a desk sounded in the background. "Goddammit, it's like this regressed the country one hundred years! Just replace 'pony' with 'Negro' and you almost can't tell the difference!"

"Dare I ask how things are on the international front?" said Anthony. "The media has been painting almost too rosy a picture of our allies jumping to our aid."

"The truth is, we're going hat in hand to them," said the President. "Europe was impacted by this, certainly, but not to the same degree as the US. We're getting definite signs from European leaders that any aid is coming with political strings attached to be worked out later."

"What about Russia and China?"

"Concerning Russia, we don't know. They've got everything locked down tight over there. They're under even a more rigid state of martial law than we ever were. The final numbers of transformed may tick upwards in the end, as we heard they had a massive outbreak of ETS in the Ukraine, in parts of Russia itself, and in the north near the border with Finland. As for China, it's pandemonium over there. Over one hundred million ponies. Doesn't sound like much compared to a population just shy of one and a half billion, but much of the transformed were concentrated in the urban areas where the flu spread more rapidly, and they're fleeing those cities in droves for the countryside. That's just about gutted their manufacturing sector, and that added to the international trade crisis."

Anthony was thoughtful for a few moments. "Mr. President, if I may be so bold as to suggest that you turn to the transformed for assistance as well?"

"I beg your pardon?" the President said in a surprised voice.

"One problem is that food and water supplies are strained right now," Anthony said. "Those are two things that the transformed have no want for no matter what land they have. If anything, they'll likely make a surplus, and they probably won't even ask for any sort of monetary payment for it."

The President paused. "I don't want to exploit their mental state."

"Then don't. Give them something in return for their help. It just has to be something other than money, since that's worthless to them right now. Equestria has a monetary system, so maybe the transformed will eventually have one as well or can be coaxed back into accepting the dollar, but for now, why not barter for their assistance?"

The President sighed. "The issue is that we don't even know what to consider the transformed right now. Already the term 'transformed' is being replaced by 'pony', as if already acknowledging that they're a people apart, which in turn raises the specter of 'separate but equal'. Hell, I've used it myself in this conversation. A few hotheads here are going off the deep end the other way, that the transformed should be somehow forced back into a normal American lifestyle. Definitions of 'normal' naturally vary."

"This again highlights the reasons behind my decision, sir," said Anthony. "Regardless of what their final disposition is, these people deserve to be protected from victimization. And to be honest, Mr. President, after seeing how Sunset became such a cold and calculating being, I don't want to risk going down that route as well. When I replay some of my conversations with Doctor Conner and Doctor Marlowe in my head, I can see where I might come off sounding like that myself. I feel I need to be a little more grounded."

"I do understand, and I greatly respect you for it," said the President. "I had to make my plea anyway. The pressure is mounting from all sectors for us to do something."

"Twilight put it best," said Anthony. "We need to make a first step somewhere and accept that the ultimate solution is not going to come anytime soon. We need people like you to drill that point into people's heads." He paused. "I know it won't be easy. Just look how long it took for me to realize that."

"And you have as hard a head as they come."

Anthony chuckled. "I'd be insulted if that wasn't true."

The President managed a short laugh. "I will take everything you've told me under consideration. It's been a pleasure working with you, and I wish you well in your future endeavors."

"Thank you, sir. I wish you well also."

The President ended the call, and Anthony handed the phone back to the agent who said, "We're going to miss you, Mr. Heller."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"I, uh, do have to warn you," said the agent as he leaned in. "A certain pony from the Equestrian contingent heard about you moving on and is planning a going-away party for you."

Anthony sighed but had to laugh as well. "I will attend. Purely in the interest of furthering relations with a foreign power, you understand."

The agent smiled and chuckled. "Of course, sir."

He truly hoped they would be serving some of that apple cider that Applejack once raved about. He could go for a nice drink right then.





"You wanted to see me, Fred?"

Fred glanced behind him to see Kevin approaching. "Yeah, doc, just a sec." He turned back towards Kelly, the young unicorn who had been on his mind ever since he had heard her mention her deceased brother. "So the point I'm trying to make here is not advocating for war. Your brother had a goddamn tough job to do, sorta like we all had here before we got this place running."

"I just felt like his life was thrown away for nothing," said Kelly as she wiped one of her eyes with the back of a hoof. "That all he was doing was making sure our country kept the oil flowing."

Fred's ears swiveled slightly as he heard his human friend stop a respectful distance away. "Kelly, listen to me. When I was out there, it wasn't about oil, it wasn't about politics. Soldiers don't care about that. We care about protecting each other's back. I had a chance to find out a little about your brother Jake."

Kelly's eyes widened at the name, and she sniffled once.

"He made a decision that saved five other men. The original battle plans had gone ass-up, and he had to think on his feet."

Kelly swallowed hard. "M-Mom never told me that," she said in a hollow voice. "She just went on about what a waste it was."

"Don't go blaming her too much," said Fred in a low voice. "I've seen families struggle to cope with the death of loved ones in the military. But rest assured, Kelly, your brother died a hero to his men, not to some political goal. When you're in the military, your fellow soldiers are your family."

Kelly sniffled again and pulled Fred into a hug. "Thank you for talking to me about this. I really want to know more about what my brother actually did now."

Fred smiled and embraced her as tightly as he felt was safe given his greater strength. "I can arrange that for you before I go."

Kelly broke off the embrace and gave him a puzzled look. "Go? Where?"

"I'll explain later," said Fred. "I just want to make sure I set the record straight concerning your brother."

Kelly nodded and wiped her eyes one more time. "I'll talk to you later."

Fred smiled again and watched her head off before turning around to face Kevin.

"Did I hear a subtle message in that otherwise poignant talk?" Kevin asked gently.

Fred chuckled. "I don't do subtle, Kevin. But I really did want to do something for her concerning her brother. I hate seeing anyone resent a loved one's death in the military. Everything I said about her brother was true."

"How did you manage to get that info, if I may ask?"

"Apparently, there are still people in the military who respect me," said Fred. "My old commander is a two-star general now set to retire in another few months, but he's dedicating his remaining time to see that I get some sort of medal. He fell over himself to get the information I wanted."

Kevin smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. But what's this about leaving? Is that what you wanted to see me about?"

"I always said that I wasn't going to do farming for the rest of my life," said Fred. "This place is running well now, and it's time for me to move on."

"Then you might want to hear the news I bring. I spoke with Twilight earlier. She said she has a way to change the transformed back to human."

Fred's eyes widened.

"The catch is, however, they have to be willing to do it. I naturally thought about you, since you're the most cognizant of anyone of the forced nature of this transformation."

Fred uttered a relieved sigh. "All I ever wanted was to be consulted about this. I thank both of you for that. I respectfully refuse."

Kevin hesitated. "Fred, I know you're comfortable with this body, but--"

"It has nothing to do with being comfortable," Fred declared. "I didn't join Special Forces to be comfortable. I knew it was a tough job going in. I could think the same thing about becoming human again. I could do it if I wanted to."

"Then what's your drive to remain a pony?"

"Because I feel like I can do more good this way. Other ponies are more willing to listen to one of their own kind. I feel like I had a hoof in getting ponies here to think for themselves. I want to keep doing that. I've done all I can here, so I want to go to another community and start stirring things up there."

"While it's your choice to make, and I will respect whatever your decision is, do consider that you might also be the one to lead the way to, ah, rehumanizing, for lack of a better term."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, but it comes down to numbers. How many are really going to be convinced to do it? And if I do stay a pony, I might actually accomplish getting more to consider changing back."

"At the risk of your own humanity," Kevin said.

"Yeah, but I was a soldier, I know what it means to take risks and make decisions that affect my life as well as others." Fred paused. "Changing back is tempting. It would be the ultimate way to spit in Sunset's eye. But this isn't about my need for petty vengeance." He thrust a hoof towards the settlement. "It's about them, and what I can do for them. They need to take what Sunset gave them and make it their own. I feel like that's what I need to do, that's what my purpose in all this is. Life just handed me a new assignment, and I'm going to do my damnedest to get that job done."

An assurance settled over Fred like it never had in his life. The only thing which ever came close was the day he decided to make the army his career. It crystallized within him, as if becoming one with his psyche. A tingling reverberated through his body, settling in his haunches before fading away.

He found Kevin staring at him in astonishment. Before Fred could ask, Kevin managed to recover and gave him a small smile. "I suppose the point is moot now."

Fred took a deep breath, for he already knew what had happened; now all that was left was to see what his cutie mark looked like. The design was simple, but to him spoke volumes. He wondered if that was what Twilight felt about hers, as its design to him didn't really speak strongly of one thing or another. His was a gold star, fashioned like one that might adorn the ranking designation on an officer's uniform, but set against the silhouette of a pony's head.

Fred slowly smiled. He saw the star as a recognition as his service to his country, and its position over a pony head representing not just his ability to get ponies to think for themselves, but his leadership qualities. It felt like his whole life summed up in a simple picture.

He turned back to Kevin. "That decides it, then. And, honestly, this is a far better stake in the ground against Sunset's influence than me becoming human ever could do."

Kevin eyes glistened slightly as he said in a heavy voice, "In that case, Fred, I want you to know that I am honored to call you a friend, and I am grateful for everything you have done and will continue to do for your country. And for that, I salute you."

And to Fred's surprise, Kevin did just that. He took the proper stance, and fired off a crisp salute as good as any soldier might do. Fred's eyes welled up as he returned it.





That Starlight reacted to the summons to Canterlot with relative equanimity was testament to how much she had gone through over the past month or so. She could scarcely believe how nervous she had been that first time coming to Canterlot with Twilight to meet Princess Celestia just before the whole mess started.

As soon as she arrived, she was shuffled to the head of the line waiting for an audience, much to the grumbling of the nobles. Not that they were ever in any other kind of mood these days even at the best of times. They had always been an aloof and snooty lot, but now the atmosphere around them felt almost toxic.

The doors to the chamber burst open, and Starlight had to duck to the side to avoid being run down by a stomping Prince Blueblood. "I am ready to give up making Her Highness see reason," he declared to his cohorts. "She insists on entertaining these humans as if they were honored guests instead of the barbarians that they are!"

Starlight frowned. The Equestrian language had finally come up with a word for the natives of Earth, yet the way the nobility bandied it about, it was quickly becoming an epithet. She thought their vitriol misplaced; where was it when Starlight's own crimes came to light?

"I at least got her to agree not to place them anywhere near our homes," said Blueblood, raising his head in pride as if he had just secured the monarchy for himself.

"Hear hear!" declared one of his sycophants to a general nodding of heads.

"And I will be requesting doubling the guards as well. They will act civilized even if they have to be forced into it. And if I have anything to say about it, any humans that show even the slightest bit of aggressive behavior towards Equestrian citizens will be immediately deported and forbidden from ever returning!"

Starlight ground her teeth in a bid not to retort. Yes, she had her own issues with the humans, but she had at least bothered to come to an understanding about them. There were reasons behind how they operated, and the fact that they were reaching out to a world that was partially responsible for the disaster that befell them was better than either the griffons or dragons would do in Equestria under similar circumstances.

Starlight was rescued from getting herself into political trouble when Tight Schedule emerged from the hallway to the side. "Princess Celestia will see you now, Miss Glimmer."

"Uh, thanks," said Starlight. She cast one last frown at Blueblood and his cronies before heading inside. The doors mercifully shut behind her as soon as she stepped inside, and Celestia smiled as Starlight bowed. "What is it you wanted to see me about, Princess?"

Celestia stepped off her throne. "Apologies for the suddenness of the invitation, Starlight, but things have been moving a little more quickly than expected."

"Oh? What's happened? I last spoke to Twilight a few days ago." Starlight paused. "Um, I don't mean to complain, but having the magic mirror still sitting in the Crystal Empire makes it a little harder to shuttle back and forth when needed."

"Unfortunately, that will be the state of affairs for the foreseeable future," said Celestia in a sad voice. "Much as I would like to move it to Canterlot to facilitate matters with regards to diplomatic relations, keeping it in the Crystal Empire will placate the nobles for now. The citizens of the Empire are far more amenable to having humans in their midst."

"And are we going to actually have some soon?"

"While the <United States> is still embroiled in recovery efforts, other less-affected nations are moving forward with plans to open relations. I suspect some may be distancing themselves from the decision to execute Sunset. An initial overture arrived from a nation called <United Kingdom>. They wish to open an embassy here and have invited us to open one there. I'm planning on granting the request as soon as feasible."

Now Starlight knew why she had been summoned, and why Blueblood had been so riled up. "And you want to know how things are in Ponyville right now."

"As they are the nearest town and an excellent example of life in Equestria outside the pomp and circumstance of Canterlot, I thought it would be good for human representatives to visit there. Not to mention Twilight's castle is there, and it would provide much better accommodations for meetings and such."

Starlight knew something like this had to be in the works. In Twilight's absence, she had been keeping an eye on public opinion in Ponyville. While she certainly had help in the form of their five other close friends, it had been something of a struggle at first. The nobility had managed to bend the ears of the Rich family, and they were making noises about not wanting the humans in town.

"Things are going about as well as can be expected," said Starlight. "I think most of the ponies there would be okay with humans among them, if a little wary at first. I've had some help from not just our immediate circle of friends, but a few others. Lyra Heartstrings has been a huge help. She's actually very eager to meet the humans for some reason."

Celestia smiled. "That eases my mind a bit."

"To be blunt, though, it's a tougher job than I expected," Starlight explained. "I know that Twilight said I've leaned a lot about friendship, and that I was ready for a task like this, but ... I don't know ... after everything that happened, I keep coming back to my own past."

"Twilight has conveyed to me that you've been having lingering feelings of guilt in recent times," said Celestia. "I cannot help but wonder if events on Earth had triggered it."

"Well, of course they did!" Starlight said in a sharper voice than intended. "What if I had been on Earth when I started messing with the timeline? They'd be justified in killing me to protect themselves. Or what if I hadn't listened to reason when Twilight tried to stop me? Would she have had to kill me, too? Wouldn't that have been justified as well?"

"Starlight--"

Starlight's eyes glistened as she plunged on, having had this building up for so long. "You know what sometimes keeps me up at night? The thought that those alternate timelines may still be out there, that I'm responsible for the death of millions. And if that's the case, how am I any better than Sunset?"

Starlight had managed to keep her feelings under control up until that bullet took Sunset's life. Her own initial anger at the humans had not been so much for the act itself as to the firestorm of regret and self-doubt that it had ignited in her.

"Luna has confided in me that she's had to help dispel an unusual number of nightmares on your behalf," Celestia said softly. "Out of respect for your privacy, she did not divulge the details, but now I can guess."

"Yeah, well, now you know," Starlight said, wiping an eye. "You also know now why I volunteered to stay in Ponyville rather than go back to Earth with Twilight. Being there is just a constant reminder of these things. To be honest, though, I'm not even sure how effective I am."

"Twilight is going to need a break soon," said Celestia. "Even if I have to impose it myself. Once she has a working reverse-transformation spell in place, I will insist she allow Princess Cadance to replace her temporarily so she can return to Ponyville and assist you with efforts there. By then, I hope to have arranged a visit by the first of the human diplomatic contingents. You can avail yourself of Twilight's time to work through your guilt."

Starlight shook her head. "She doesn't need me heaping this on her, she already has more things to do than any pony ought to."

"Once she is in Ponyville, she knows she can rely on her friends for help," said Celestia. "I strongly suggest you follow that path as well. You need Twilight, and she will be more than willing to help you." Celestia smiled. "And she may be bringing along a mutual friend who would be willing to talk to you about this."

Starlight tilted her head. "Who?"

Celestia paused. "One moment, I am still learning how to pronounce human names. Doctor <Kevin Conner> has expressed an interest in coming here. I was going to facilitate that if possible."

Twilight had mentioned her suggestion to Kevin that he speak with Starlight to resolve some of his own lingering feelings of guilt over the death of his wife. Starlight had avoided that specifically because it could have led to her revealing her past. While Kevin's feelings were a concern, she had been more concerned about being overhead by other humans and thus sewing the seeds of distrust. In Equestria, where everypony knew what she had done, it wouldn't be an issue.

"If what I have heard of him is correct, he would be wonderful ambassador, even if it has to be in an unofficial sense," said Celestia with a smile. "A human who could certainly put ponies' minds at ease."

Starlight slowly smiled. "Yes, he's a really nice person. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing him again." Starlight hesitated. "Princess, may I ask you a candid question?"

"Certainly."

"When you first heard what the humans had done concerning Sunset, did you ... did you ever consider just washing your hooves of them? I know I did for a little while, and I suspect maybe Twilight did as well."

Celestia's eyes became cloudy, and she let out a slow sigh. "I was upset, yes," she said in a low voice. "And angry as well. I had hoped they would take the chance on her, even if it did lead to a trial with a foregone conclusion. But as I told Sunset, I weigh every decision I make. To simply reject all humans would not be either reasonable or fair. They need us, and we need to learn more about them before we make any sort of informed decision about our future with them."

Starlight nodded slowly. She supposed that was the best answer anypony could give. "Dare I ask about relations with other powers here?"

"I have been in talks with the griffons," said Celestia. "They are rather angry and upset to learn of the memory suppression spell, but fortunately the inroads Twilight's friends made with them means they're willing to talk rather than fight." Celestia smiled faintly. "It at least helped clear the way for Derpy to meet her real parents again."





Derpy trotted along the wide avenue in the Griffon Kingdom, hoping that the sound of her hooves against the hard and dry ground didn't alert too many of the citizens to her presence. Each street looked the same from the ground, and despite being given clear directions, she had gotten lost. Many of the street signs had been elevated to accommodate the fact that many griffons now built their home on towers to allow them to launch themselves directly into the sky, making them seem more like vast aviaries than houses.

She contemplated flying high enough to try to get the lay of the land, going so far as to unfold her wings, but she reconsidered and refolded them to her sides. The last time she had flown in the midst of the griffons, she had received so many contemptuous looks that she wanted to cringe.

Derpy finally lowered her gaze to the dirt and sighed, her ears drooping. "Maybe this was a mistake after all."

No one was there to reply. Her good friend Doctor Whooves had offered to accompany her, but she had felt she needed to do this alone. Her heart ached; she remembered what her real parents looked like, even what they felt and smelled like, yet she had no idea how they would react. They, like many in the Kingdom old enough to be around back then, now remembered everything that had happened thanks to Celestia lifting the remains of the memory suppression spell.

The younger griffons were more perplexed as to what was really going on, but in a society where elders were well-respected, the older griffons were the ones making their voices heard the most.

Derpy was forced to look up when a shadow passed over her, and her gaze spotted two large claws resting on the ground. Her head snapped up, and she stumbled back a step as she found herself staring at a large, feathery chest.

"Where do you think you're going, pony?"

Derpy shivered slightly at the sound of her species being spoken like an epithet, and she resisted the urge to bolt. She swallowed hard as she looked up at the adult female griffon blocking the way. Derpy considered simply saying "excuse me" and flying around her, but the griffon had already partially extended her massive wings, as if in preparation for pursuit.

"I asked you a question, pony," said the griffon, her eyes narrowing and her wings spreading further. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I-I'm looking f-for a griffon couple," Derpy said in a tiny voice. "Ganna and Gordo."

The words came with a small catch in her voice as just the names conjured up memories of being held close to her mother's chest, or of riding on her father's back as he flew about running errands.

"And why would they ever want to see you?" the griffon countered.

Derpy almost said that she was their daughter, but she was sure that would be met with either disbelief or outright contempt. She had no idea how many details had circulated concerning what had really happened, and what few she knew were widely known, most had been blown up out of proportion.

The griffon advanced a step, and Derpy backed away. "I don't know what you're playing at, pony, but right now, your kind is not wanted around here." She extended her wings fully. "In fact, I'm going to see to it right now you fly straight towards the border and out of this Kingdom."

Derpy's pupils shrank. "B-but--!"

"The only 'but' I want to see is yours as it heads into the distance. Now let's--"

Before she could finish her sentence, another griffon landed between them in a flurry of movement and feathers. The newcomer shoved the first griffon back with a sharp rebuke of, "Back off, Greta! I thought you grew out of being a dumb bully."

Greta retreated a step, flaring her wings briefly before folding them to her sides. She frowned at the newcomer. "I knew you were a pony-lover, Gilda, but really, you want them infiltrating us like this?"

Derpy managed to relax somewhat after hearing the name of Rainbow Dash's friend. At least she hoped it was the same Gilda; with all griffon names starting with "G", she wondered if they were forced to repeat a lot of names.

Gilda rolled her eyes. "Infiltrating? Get real. You're in the same boat as I am. You're not even old enough to remember what happened over twenty years ago."

Greta frowned. "My parents told me. That's good enough for me."

"Oh, right. And that totally invalidates everything ponies of the present ever did for us, ponies who also had no say in what happened back then."

Greta's gaze softened somewhat, her eyes flicking between Gilda and Derpy. "Look, I was doing her a favor. There's some who are a lot more militant about this than I am. It's better that she leave anyway for her own safety."

"Maybe we've started to rediscover our past warrior roots, but that doesn't make us a bunch of thugs," Gilda said.

"Hey, you were sore about this, too, when you heard the truth before any of us."

"Yeah, I was, but I've had some time to think about it," Gilda said in a softer voice. "I was blaming the wrong people, and so are you." Gilda turned around and stood next to Derpy, wrapping one wing around her. "And since you're sooo worried about this pony's safety, I'll solve the problem for you. I'll escort her to Ganna's place."

Derpy shuddered. The gesture was very similar to what her mother might have done. Griffons were so large compared to her that it really took her back to that moment so long ago. It was hard to tell anymore where her griffon past ended and her pony present started.

Greta sighed. "You sure you want to do this? I heard they lost their only daughter to all this."

Derpy would have replied, but her throat had tightened too much to do more than make an awkward squeaking sound. She felt Gilda's wing tighten around her as if in a silent gesture to remain quiet.

"I'll worry about that, okay?" Gilda said. "Just chill out already. Stop getting yourself worked up over nothing."

"I don't think it's nothing, but, yeah, I see your point." Greta looked at Derpy. "Sorry. Just so you know, I never intended to hurt you. See you around, Gilda."

Greta unfolded her wings and took off.

Derpy let out a quavering sigh. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Gilda said as she withdrew her wing. "But I have to admit, I think you're insane for coming here alone. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have been there with you the moment you entered the Kingdom."

Derpy paused as she blinked rapidly and shook her head in an attempt to realign her eyes. "I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realize how much hostility there would be over this."

"Try not to take it too personally. To be honest, some griffons just like having something to be mad about." Gilda pointed a wing. "Here, this way." After a moment's pause, she glanced down at Derpy. "So you're really Ganna's daughter, huh?"

"That's what I remember now, yes," said Derpy. "I didn't until Princess Celestia lifted the spell from me. It's been really strange, remembering growing up with two different sets of parents." Her eyes glistened. "I really love my adoptive parents, and I'm not really expecting my real parents to ..." Her voice faltered. "Well, never mind. I don't think I'll get to stay very long is what I mean."

Gilda gave her a sympathetic look. "You know, even under the spell, Ganna always struck me as mother without a brood." She smiled faintly. "She always acted like a Mom to me and my friends when we were just chicks."

"She doesn't have to act like a mother to me," Derpy said, though that did not reflect her feelings.

"You couldn't have been named Derpy back then," said Gilda.

"My name back then was Gerpa," Derpy said softly. "My adoptive parents never knew my origins. I didn't even know thanks to that spell."

"Huh. You know, I wonder if Ganna somehow still remembered she had a daughter. She would occasionally call one of us Gerpa by accident. We always assumed she had some sort of niece by that name." Gilda stopped and pointed again. "Well, that's the place just at the end of that road."

Derpy's eyes widened, and her heart lurched. Despite the modernization that had gone on since the griffons started to recover their fortunes, her old home still looked similar enough to what she had remembered that it sparked a real sense of homesickness. Yet what truly riveted her attention was the older, mostly brown male griffon who hovered near the bottom of the aviary, a can of paint and a brush in his claws as he touched up a portion of the outside wall.

"Th-that's my father," Derpy said in a hushed voice.

"You, uh, want me to come with you?"

Derpy had already answered her question by trotting forward. "No, I have to do this myself. Thank you for the help."

She didn't bother looking back to see if Gilda left. Nothing mattered other than this moment. Derpy's heart fluttered as she grew closer and more memories flooded back to her. Male griffons tended to be less demonstrative of their love towards offspring, and Gordo had been no exception, yet he had always exuded a pride in his daughter that was palpable.

Derpy tried to bring herself to speak, but her throat was too tight. Instead, her hoof-falls announced her presence, and Gordo turned his head. He blinked rapidly for a moment, his mouth briefly falling open as he stared. He finally drew his face into a small but firm frown and dove for the ground, landing with a sharp impact of claws and paws. Yet even then, despite his stance looking as if he were about to ward off an intruder, his face was uncertain.

Derpy could not stand the silence anymore and blurted out, "Dad, it's me! I'm Gerpa!"

Gordo's eyes widened, and for a moment, a crack appeared in the harsh veneer. The transformation had not altered Derpy's voice, but it had changed in cadence and pitch just from growing up. Would either of his parents recognize it anymore?

"I-I know, maybe it's hard for you to believe," Derpy continued. "But--"

"Stop," Gordo said.

Derpy immediately silenced, her father's voice still having the same authoritative tone that she remembered.

Gordo stepped up to Derpy until he almost towered over her. "I don't know what to say to you. It's been so long. I'm not ... I'm not sure what to think or feel right now."

Derpy swallowed. "You're angry."

"Yes, I'm angry!" Gordo declared with a snap of his tail. "But not at you. What am I supposed to say after twenty years? Twenty years of not raising a daughter I never knew I had, and then for her to come back like this?" He paused and shook his head. "That came out wrong."

"I didn't ask for this to happen," Derpy said in a choked voice. "I didn't have a say."

Gordo stared at Derpy with uncertain eyes for another moment before backing away. "Ganna! Get down here!"

Derpy's eyes glistened, and she fought off tears. Not for this apparent rejection, for it really wasn't; whenever he was perplexed about something concerning their daughter, he always called for her mother. It was just another memory that made all this that much harder to bear if she had to return to Equestria with little to show for this other than some awkward conversation.

"Dear, you don't have to shout," said a voice that threatened to break Derpy's resolve. 

Ganna landed beside her husband, and all Derpy could do was stare. Despite having aged twenty years, it was as if no more than a day had passed. Her feathers were still the same vibrant blue, her chest pristine white.

"Now what is it that you felt the need to ..." Ganna's voice trailed off as she cast her gaze upon Derpy.

Derpy opened her mouth to speak, but she caught herself when she looked into Ganna's eyes. Ganna knew. Somehow, she knew.

Ganna's lower lip quivered. Her eyes glistened. She swallowed hard, looked as if she were about to speak, and suddenly Derpy's world became feathers and warmth. Ganna swept Derpy up in her forelegs and held her close, the dam of her emotions bursting as her tears flowed.

Derpy had no words, but none were needed. She simply hugged her mother back as twenty years seemed to melt away as if they had never happened. She would have settled for mere acceptance, but what she had really wanted was what she had feared had been stolen from her forever: her parents' love.

"Welcome home, daughter," said Gordo in a soft and sincere voice.

And in those simple words, Derpy realized she had gained more than she had ever hoped for. While her future was still uncertain, she could at least accept her past and present. It was a start.

It was a first step.
> Epilogue: ... On The Long Road Ahead
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eileen dispensed what she hoped was the last meal before she could come out from behind the counter and have her own dinner. At least this time she had no one complain to her about the meager amounts of meat in their ration. She was tired of explaining just how damned expensive meat was. Not that anything was really cheap these days.

Eileen glanced towards the door, where a National Guard soldier stood watch. He took the glance as an unspoken question and peeked out the door. "No more for now, Ms. McDermott."

"Thanks," Eileen said in a tired voice. She removed her apron and quickly went about preparing her own meal, taken from the same rations as everyone else. Most of the staff tended to retreat to a room in the back to eat, but she preferred to stay with the others. She wanted to put a face on the people who came through here and not treat them as just random destitutes in search of a meal.

As she looked around for a spot to sit, she felt like she had stepped into a history book. The Great Depression was just a footnote in history for her, and yet now she felt like she was living it. The media were loathe to call it that, as not every area of the country was affected like this. This little place just on the outskirts of Pueblo, Colorado was considered one of the last bastions of humanity in the west. That was a bit of hyperbole to her, but not to the ones coming hat in hand for help.

Eileen scanned the crowd for new faces. She knew most of their stories already. A good number of people who visited the Relief Center -- to her, a fancy term for "soup kitchen" -- were former IT workers out of Denver and Colorado Springs. They either had no jobs or were forced to take low-paying manual labor work. Much of the tech sector in that part of the country had been forced to relocate to the east or west coast, and the jobs had gone with them. With the economy in shambles, many didn't have the money to relocate.

Eileen didn't profess to understand all the details about how the economy had crashed. Certainly it had to do with a significant chunk of Americans no longer in the labor force and no longer buying consumer goods. Some of the land that had been a focus for industry ranging from timber to tech were in pony hooves. This all came on the heels of an economy that had already been strained by the rampant absenteeism caused by the initial flu outbreak. Many services that had become thin during that time had yet to recover. Ponies no longer needing money had not helped; until the government started simply destroying money turned in by ponies, the sudden increase in circulating currency caused inflation to spike.

The government had been going on and on about things getting better soon thanks to programs to help relocate both humans and ponies alike to better balance the land use and bring humans closer to businesses who were actually hiring, but the ponies' penchant for being friendly and accommodating only went so far. Some had started digging in their hooves and refused to be moved about further. For those ponies who sought integration into human society, it led to needless animosity towards them from humans.

It didn't help the national mood that the numbers of ponies volunteering for "rehumanization" were depressingly low two months into the program.

"Over here," Eileen heard a gruff voice say.

She turned her head to see a barrel-chested man sitting at a table with two chairs. A smart phone sat on the table beside him, a bit of a rare commodity. Normally, she would advise him not to openly display such an expensive-looking gadget for fear of it being stolen, but the man gave off a vibe that said "don't mess with me unless you want your ass handed to you on a plate." He was the most neatly dressed of anyone there, the only thing breaking the illusion was the graying stubble on his face. He waved a beefy hand towards the empty chair across from him.

Eileen headed over and sat down. "Thanks."

The man extended his hand across the table. "John Barrows."

Eileen accepted it. "Eileen McDermott."

"Hey, yeah, I was right, I do know you," said John in a fairly heavy New York accent. "Weren't you the gal my guys caught tryin' to run the blockade into Lazy Pines?"

Eileen hesitated. While all charges against her had been dropped in exchange for her being the guinea pig for the counterspell, she was still wary of discussing it. "Guess it depends on who wants to know."

John chuckled. "No worries, I don't harbor any grudge about it. None of the other men did. Just doin' their jobs."

"You were with the police in Lazy Pines?" Eileen asked.

"Police chief in fact," he said with more than a hint of pride in his voice. "Not anymore, of course, since the country went to shit."

Eileen glanced at the National Guard soldier. "I thought there would be a big call for law enforcement considering."

John shook his head. "Most of that's still being handled by the military. They say that martial law's not been in force for a while, but I'm just not seein' that. Yeah, I could go back to New York and maybe get something there, but nowhere near my former rank and salary. And the damn ponies certainly don't need me."

"Before you go off on any tirade," said Eileen in a cautious tone. "I have family who are ponies, so I won't take too kindly to it."

John waved a hand dismissively. "Naw, I've done all the ranting I'll ever do about it. Besides, I got a sister who's a unicorn. Tried to drill it into her fool head to get rehumanized, but she went off and got marked instead."

"Got marked" was meant to be a derogatory term for acquiring a cutie mark. "My son is a unicorn. Unmarked, still. Sister and her husband and one of their daughters, the oldest, all marked. My mother's a pony, unmarked, but stubborn. Becoming a pony did nothing to soften that Irish brogue of hers." She paused. "My sister's younger daughter Jenny is going for rehumanization."

"Well, hey, that's one bright spot," said John. "What about your son? Think he might do it eventually?"

Eileen gave him a faint smile. "Never sure with him. I've been exchanging letters with him since my cell phone died and the postal system isn't such crap anymore."

John frowned. "Can you believe that the postal service actually suggested they start hiring pegasi to get them back into business sooner? Jesus."

So much for having done all his ranting, Eileen thought ruefully. "Why the hell not? Personally, I think the controversy over it is stupid. I think it would be better if some ponies did integrate back into society. Shit, I could think of a lot of things pegasi alone could do, like make rain over forest fires."

John rubbed his neck. "I still think they're just treating this as some stupid lark. They'd all be better off as human again."

"Well, there's still time for that to happen," said Eileen, though she was no more hopeful than most.

"Yeah, but I'm just not seein' that happening. Here, look at this." He shoved his cell phone across the table and turned it around. "Look at this video I was just watching a little while ago."

Eileen set her meal aside and tapped the play icon. It was a news report where several ponies were interviewed about the push to have them rehumanize.

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" one yellow and orange earth pony mare from Florida said. "When I was human, I had Lupus. I was in constant pain every day. Now not only am I healthy, I've got tons more strength than I ever had!"

"Go back?" said a purple and blue unicorn stallion from Phoenix. "Why? So I can be homeless again? Yeah, it took me a bit to learn to use my horn properly, but I had other ponies helping me rather than treating me like some kinda trash someone dropped on the street. Not everyone who's homeless is a drug addict, you know."

The third, a green and yellow pegasus mare from Kansas, was a little more sanguine. "I've actually been thinking about it after hearing the truth behind it all," she said in a soft voice. "But, I don't know. I have tons of friends I don't want to leave behind. I do wish humans would let ponies work more with them. There's so many things we can do to help them."

Finally, a brown and amber earth stallion from Wyoming spoke. "Rather than droning on and on and on about how I'm not supposed to be a pony, how about letting me help, huh? I've already done all I can for our pony community. Let me do something to help humans, okay?"

Eileen tapped the pause icon. "Frankly, I think those last two kinda prove my point."

"Yeah, but it also shows there ain't gonna be droves of ponies wanting to be human again, and that's the only thing that will fix the country right now," John declared.

Eileen knew what John really meant: that was the only thing that would bring back the old world. The old world was dead, and a new one was slowly -- if painfully -- rising in its place.

Before Eileen could respond, she suddenly noticed that silence had descended on the shelter. She turned her head and spotted the visitor just inside the door.

"Crap," Eileen muttered as she launched herself from her seat.

"Eileen, you have a minute?" said the earth pony stallion with a bright orange coat and dark red mane. Upon his haunches was a cutie mark shaped like a stream of water with steam rising from it. Around his neck was a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

Eileen rushed through the shelter and herded the earth pony outside. "Goddammit, Fire, I told you to come in through the staff entrance!" Eileen growled through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry," said Fire Springs, his ears drooping. "But no one was there when I looked."

Eileen sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry I got upset with you. I just didn't want to give the soldier in there something to do."

"Look, if I'm going to spread the word about reuniting with the humans, I have to live that philosophy as well."

Eileen tended to enjoy working with ponies, and she liked that some of them really did want to help, but those like Fire taxed her patience. He was a Lunite, a sector of the pony population that looked towards the Equestrian Princess Luna as a spiritual leader. Some of the night ponies whom Luna had contacted to modify Sunset's vision had become so enthused with her that they included her in the vision.

The Lunites were not the only such movement among the transformed. Without Sunset's guiding influence, and being encouraged to think for themselves, ponies were coming up with various belief systems around what had happened. Another group had been dubbed the New Equestrians, who believed ponies should live as they do in Equestria. A similar group were the Harmonists, who believed fervently in the Five Pillars of their faith: Honesty, Loyalty, Kindness, Generosity, and Laughter.

Then there was the tiny contingent that Eileen frankly hoped stayed tiny: the Shimmerists. To them, Sunset was both savior and martyr.

What was common to many of them, however, was their belief that they needed to stay ponies, and in turn came a need to rename themselves as Fire had done. Even Laura was going around as Sunrise Storm.

"What is it you came to see me about?" asked Eileen.

"I just wanted to let you know that some earth ponies up north are willing to try raising more chickens to help augment the meat supply," said Fire. "Right now, they've been raising them only for their eggs."

"Doesn't that offend your pony sensitivities to be sending animals for slaughter?"

"Not really. Just because we don't eat meat doesn't mean we begrudge those who do."

Eileen sometimes found herself wanting to discover reasons to give ponies a hard time. This really wasn't their fault, and nothing she or any human or pony could do would force her son to make up his mind. "Thanks, Fire, but keep that under wraps, okay? The agriculture business in this country took a huge hit, and the last thing they need is to hear you're undercutting them."

"As soon as human farms can provide, we'll stop sending food," said Fire. "But if it's ever needed again, you're damn straight we're going to help. We're not going to let people go hungry over a point of politics."

Eileen wanted to explain it wasn't as simple as that. Already people were demanding that food produced with magic be labeled like GMO foods were. All sorts of foolish misinformation was circulating, such as eating magically produced food would eventually turn someone into a pony. It was patent nonsense, but even before the crisis, so-called "fake news" had been an issue.

The food industry was a mixed bag. The beef and poultry industry took a huge hit when part of their consumer base vanished. Prices first crashed due to saturation of the market, then skyrocketed as cattle ranchers went bankrupt and inflation went out of control. Producers of corn were hit next, as much of their market was for cattle feed or to manufacture corn syrup, which in turn went into products ponies didn't want. Grain and vegetable markets fared somewhat better, but they, too, were hit with wild price fluctuations and a dearth of replacement equipment. The federal government finally had to step in and impose rigid price controls.

It wasn't that there was a lack of arable land for humans to use, it was more finding people willing to work the land in a depressed economy. Earth ponies were more than willing to share their surplus with humans but had to overcome lingering suspicion, misinformation, and politics. In very few places in the US were people actively going hungry; the ponies found a way to work with humans in many unofficial capacities that the federal government tacitly if not publicly supported.

Eileen and the rest of the Relief Center staff never let on exactly how much of their rations were pony-supplied.

"Nothing is simple anymore," said Eileen in a softer voice.

"That's one of the reasons I decided to stay a pony," said Fire. "I felt like it actually had simplified my life, considering I was working fifty and sixty hour weeks at a desk job I hated."

Eileen almost repeated the mantra that she had drilled into herself after hearing it from the purple pony princess -- that becoming a pony wouldn't solve her problems -- but it would be wasted on Fire. To him, it had solved his problems. His talent was finding hydrothermal features in the landscape, and he mentioned that he had a long-standing interest in geology and always regretted not pursuing it as a career.

Eileen managed a small smile. "I guess whatever works for you. Thanks for the help as always, Fire."

Fire Springs smiled, nodded, and headed away.

Eileen watched him go. In a way, she felt like she was looking into the future. Humans and ponies had to find some way to accommodate each other. Their very survival depended on it.





Laura darted up high above the clouds that were being gathered below, her gaze whipping around as she shielded her eyes from the sun with a fore-hoof. So far, the coast was clear. The helicopter she had earlier spotted in the distance had not returned. Hopefully that meant they had not been spotted.

She dove back down and joined the crew of four other pegasi who were busy creating a small rain shower as fast as they could and as boldly as they dared. Not that she had much work to do, as her cohorts had nearly finished the job. Naturally, they would with Rainy Skies -- otherwise known as Emma -- in charge of the detail.

Laura flew up to her friend, briefly glancing at Emma's cutie mark, that of a cloud dropping rain and driven by the wind. She still remembered the day it had shown up. Emma had indeed tried her hoof at going back to sewing, and while she had some success with it, the lure of the skies proved too much to ignore.

Laura felt like Emma had chosen on her own. When Emma decided to rename herself, she thought it appropriate that their names complemented each other.

"I think we got this, Sunny," said Emma.

Laura smiled. She still liked that nickname despite its past connotations. She was always careful to introduce herself as Sunrise Storm before letting them call her Sunny. She admitted choosing the name as a nod to her more positive memories of Sunset, but decided a break with the past was in order, hence the name Sunrise.

The other pegasi gave the clouds a buck, and the skies under them darkened with rain.

"Let's head away under the clouds to avoid being seen," Laura said.

The others fell into formation around her as they dove through the obscuring mists of the clouds and broke through into the soft rain. Laura glanced down at the section of forest that had remained far too dry for too long. With a little moisture, the fire danger would be reduced.

No one in any official capacity had asked them to do this. If anything, human authorities were still adamant about reigning in pony abilities until they could arrange for "proper" training from Equestrian experts. Those experts had failed to materialize for most pegasi, and ponies like Laura grew more impatient.

"This really is ridiculous, you know," Laura said, giving voice to her thoughts.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Emma said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's been three months now! You'd think they'd actually want fully trained pegasi around when the Atlantic hurricane season started. Or the tornado season in the Midwest."

"Oh, I doubt they'll let us handle anything that big for a long time," said Emma. "If anything, they'll start blaming us for any bad weather that happens."

Laura sighed. She had really wanted to take to heart the idea of engaging with humans and avoid a pony isolationist mindset. Indeed, she had even supported plans to try to make Denver more of an integrated, multispecies city rather than the separated pockets of humans and ponies that it was now. It didn't help that some bright spark among the ponies had dubbed their part of town "Ponyopolis," and the name had somehow stuck despite sounding a little silly to Laura's ears.

"I have a feeling I know what the delay is," said Emma. "It's not that Equestria won't train us. The unicorns at least have been given some more basic spells."

"Yeah, but only very basic," said Laura. "Bob's complained about not being able to do more advanced spells. He figured out all the basic stuff himself."

"And the earth ponies were given lessons on maintaining the land," Emma continued. "But where pegasi and weather control are concerned, the US government is dragging its feet. I think they're waiting to see just how many ponies will still be around after this rehumanization thing is over."

Laura tried to stay away from that topic whenever she could. She knew Jenny was going for it and would unlikely be swayed otherwise. She wasn't looking forward to how awkward things might be between them for a bit. Many of Laura's friends thought Jenny a little funny in the head for wanting to change back, but then again, many of them had already gained cutie marks.

Gaining a cutie mark was occasionally bittersweet, especially if it meant that the pony's true talent would take them away from the community. That was what caused Joan to move away when she gained her mark of a bird with a bandaged wing, realizing her true calling was back in bird rehabilitation.

"You're probably right," Laura said in a glum voice. "Is it me, or are humans still trying to pretend that we're going to go away if they wait long enough?"

"Is that what finally made you agree to do stuff like this?"

Laura had begged off using pegasus abilities to do anything outside of maintaining the weather in their own communities. She had wanted to hold to being respectful of the fact that they shared this world with humans. Yet she realized that many of these delays indirectly hindered themselves. With so much of the forested lands of the west in pony hooves -- whether by sanction of the US government or not -- a wildfire here could be more devastating to ponies than humans.

"Sort of," said Laura. "More that not all humans are of that mindset. Here, I'll show you what I mean."

She directed her contingent out from under the rain shower and towards a small building at the end of a winding dirt road. A human male in a ranger's uniform waved at them. Laura led her cohorts into the clearing and landed. "We took care of some of those dry spots like you asked."

The man smiled as he advanced. His uniform looked a little worse for wear. He was technically a volunteer now, as US government infrastructure had not recovered enough to pay the man a steady wage. "Thank you kindly for that," he said in a slightly raspy voice.

"You sound better," Laura said with a smile. "Finally shaking off that cold?"

"Seems like it."

Emma nudged Laura with a wing. "You hadn't told me there was a human living out here. Or that he asked you to do this."

"I've only known him for a few weeks," said Laura. "I've been trying to find more like him, people who actually want us to work with them."

The ranger nudged his hat back. "Sunny here's been a big help. Granted, I don't have any official authority right now, but I felt I had to do something."

"What makes you stay here?" Emma asked.

"This is my job, my life," said the ranger. "I'm not going to give it up. Hell, if I were a pony, I'd have a cutie mark by now."

Laura turned to her friends. "This is what we have to do, everypony. We all have to find more people like him. We have to show humans we can work with them and that they don't have to be afraid of us."

"But that's dangerous, isn't it?" Emma said. "You've heard the same stories I have about all those survivalists holed up in the mountains."

"Somepony has to take that first step. If we don't, who will?"

"I just want us to be safe and happy. I finally feel like I've gotten to that point in my life. I guess I didn't want to spoil it."

"I'm not saying we have to. We just need to expand our horizons a bit."

The ranger stepped up. "If it helps any, I can't believe I'm the only human who feels like they can live with ponies instead of apart from them. I'll bet anything that there are people actively preaching that message."

Laura turned towards him. "There has to be. What a lot of ponies don't realize is that there are still far more humans on this world than ponies. Our future depends on them."

"I'm not sure I like that idea," Emma said.

"It's the truth nonetheless," said Laura. "And the sooner we realize that, the better. Becoming ponies didn't solve all our problems, it just shifted the challenges that face us."

Emma slowly nodded, as did her cohorts. "I guess you're right."

Laura managed a smile. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Perhaps things were not moving as fast as she would like, but somepony had to move things along. She could only hope that others were trying to move things along as well.





Father Lyle Donovan climbed up into the pulpit and looked out over the congregation who had gathered for Sunday Mass. The Gospel reading had just been concluded, and this was one of his favorite parts of the ceremony: the sermon.

It was not that he liked lecturing to people. He tried to use this time to put his faith into his own words, but with the added challenge of not calling on too many religious invocations. He didn't want his sermons to devolve into "do this because God told you to."

It also gave him a chance to look at his congregation and assess their well-being. He was glad to be pastor of a small church; with the roomy, big-city churches, he could barely see anyone's face past halfway down the pews.

He was happy to see Mrs. Johnson's dress looking a little less threadbare. Goods delivered from outside were few and expensive, and people had to make do with what they had. Some had left Carbondale to follow the movement of jobs out of town, but too many people here had strong connections to the area and decided to stay and tough it out until things got better.

He noticed Ms. Kelsy sitting in the pew next to Mrs. Johnson, a needle-and-thread cutie mark gracing the unicorn mare's haunches. He hoped that meant she was the one who helped patch Mrs. Johnson's dress. Only just last week, they had sat on opposite sides of the church from one another.

The entire congregation was a mix of human and pony. In many cases, the ponies sat apart, but over the course of the last few Sundays -- like Ms. Kelsy and Mrs. Johnson -- he was seeing more mingling. Ponies still tended to remain apart from humans, with ponies living in communities outside of town and humans inside. Thanks to the efforts of Father Donavan with help from the other churches in town, they had managed to urge both sides to come together more often. It helped that some of the ponies were eager to do so, especially those who wanted to return to their religious faith.

The church was not as full as during the ETS crisis, but certainly more so than it had been pre-crisis. He hoped that was a trend that would continue, not so much so he could count on more devout Catholics, but because the church was a means by which they could come together as one people.

Yet he, of all of them, could understand the calling the ponies felt they had.

His horn glowed, and he neatened the arrangement of sermon notes before him. He brushed a few strands of gray-streaked white mane hair from his blue eyes with the back of a brownish-red-furred hoof.

"My fellow beings in Christ," he said in the same gentle voice that still seemed very appropriate coming from the unicorn pony priest as it had from the human who once presided over the Mass. "Recent events have tested us and our faith in ways that we never had dreamed possible."

That was certainly true for Lyle himself. Once he became fully pony and realized much of his congregation would be as well, he decided that he would best serve them as one of them. He acquired his cutie mark soon after, that of a Christian cross superimposed on a Eucharist host. He felt it was a reaffirmation of his faith, a sign that he had indeed taken up his true calling.

"But I don't mean faith in God," said Lyle. "I speak of faith in ourselves. It is almost too easy to look for God for help compared to reaching out to others, especially given how different and strange our neighbors may seem."

Mrs. Johnson and Ms. Kelsy exchanged a glance and smiled at one another. It was then Lyle noticed the pendant around Ms. Kelsy's neck depicting the Virgin Mary. Several other ponies sported similar pendants. A few weeks prior, word had come down to the Carbondale ponies that the mare in the initial vision was believed by some to be an image of Mary, and that belief had taken off among some of the Catholic ponies in the area.

"I overheard a comment the other day. The comment was: I don't even recognize the world I live in anymore."

More than a few people, human and pony alike, nodded their heads.

"Some years ago, before settling in Carbondale, I volunteered for relief efforts in New Orleans in the wake of hurricane Katrina," Lyle continued. "I heard a comment very similar to that from one of the residents. It indeed seemed like the world as he knew it had come to an end. His home, his entire neighborhood, places he had known for many years were all gone and never to return."

A few of his human congregation looked uneasy. They had relatives who were still ponies, and they likely had argued with them time and time again about rehumanization to little effect.

"Since then, his neighborhood has been rebuilt and is thriving again. It's not the same neighborhood. It's not the same world. It's not his world anymore. Yet all was not lost for this man. My friends and I encouraged him to move somewhere else, somewhere he could make his world. No, it was never the same as the old, but he adapted to it enough to make his life fulfilling again."

A glow from his horn, and he quickly switched to the next page of his notes.

"The same challenge is before us, my friends," Lyle continued. "Yet we do not have the luxury of moving someplace else, of making someplace else our world. We could argue whether what has befallen us is the work of God or the work of the Devil, but the end result is the same. We have a new world before us, and we have to make that world our own."

Lyle noticed a man wearing a cowboy hat sitting in the back row. Lyle could not remember whether the man had been there from the start of the service. Lyle knew him only as Mark, and that he had been very adamant about not going to Mass run by a "pony preacher." Even now he still wore a sour expression as he listened.

"There is another reason I've told you this tale," said Lyle. "The man was not of my faith. He was not of my skin color -- well, at least what I had as a human at the time -- and certainly not of my culture. It mattered not. I helped him just the same. Perhaps those differences seem almost trivial now. They should. We were all children of God then, and we still are now. He does not turn His face away from us just because some of us have hooves, horns, and wings."

Lyle glanced at Mark again. His expression had changed from sour to stoic. There had been an incident of a man bringing a gun to a service at one of the other churches. Fortunately one of the unicorns present acted fast enough to yank the gun out of his hand before he could fire. Lyle would rather not be forced to put his magical talents to use in that regard.

"I certainly know and understand the pull ponies have to come together in their own communities," Lyle continued. "But in my mind, it is vastly overshadowed by a greater need. We cannot have two separate worlds. It will never work. We need to stop thinking in terms of humans and ponies and think in terms of beings united not just in Christ, but for our own common cause. Until someone invents a better term, we must expand the term 'humanity' to encompass all of us. If we do any less, we do so at our own peril."

So perhaps this sermon had turned a little more lecture-y than his usual fare. He felt it necessary. Sometimes, it was best to point out the elephant in the room. That he left much of his congregation with thoughtful looks was encouraging.

He presided over the rest of the Mass, once more glad that a guiding hand -- or perhaps hoof -- had made him a unicorn. It certainly made Communion rites easier to perform than it would have been with hooves.

After the concluding rites, Lyle did what he did after every Mass: stand at top of the steps to the church and greet those who filed out. As a human, he would shake hands with those who wished to do so. He still offered his hoof to any who would want the contact, but in the first weeks after his transformation, only the ponies would take him up on it. Slowly, a few humans braved it, and that morning, a lot more had.

Perhaps he had gotten through to them after all.

Finally, it was down to Mark. Sitting in the back of the church, he could have been one of the first out, but he specifically waited until the rest had left. Lyle admitted to a little wariness but didn't show it. When the man came to him, his expression was uncertain. He took off his hat and fiddled with it. "Uh ... nice preaching there, Father," he finally said in a subdued voice.

Lyle smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

Mark scratched his head. "Look, um, if I ever seemed riled up at ponies, it's because my family lost their ranch. It was everything to us. I know it's not the ponies' fault, but sometime's a man's gotta have an outlet for his feelings, you know? Even if it's not the smartest outlet."

"I understand," said Lyle.

"I wasn't expecting to hear what you said in your sermon. I was expecting you to go on about humans being more like ponies. Something like that."

"I realize some ponies are like that," said Lyle. "Ponies can be different from one another. And that, in turn, makes them not too unlike humans."

"Yeah, I think I see what you mean," said Mark. "It's gonna take awhile before I can get chummy with them, you know?"

"I realize it will take time. It won't be solved overnight. We have a long road ahead of us, my son, even if we started working together right away. It's not going to be easy. Faith in God is almost easy compared to faith in ourselves."

Mark nodded, fiddled with his hat for a moment, then thrust his hand forward.

Lyle smiled and placed his hoof against he man's palm. "God bless you, son."

"You, too, Father," Mark said.





"I can't believe you're going to go through with this!" James cried.

Jenny did not respond right away. She sat by the suitcase she was packing, having refused assistance by her mother whose horn could have likely finished this task already. Draped over her fore-hooves was what had been one of her favorite shirts as a human, one depicting a fairy surrounded by an enchanted forest. She had retrieved it from their old house once the military had pulled out of what was once Lazy Pines.

She sighed and tried to fold the shirt as best she could. She had wanted to do this packing herself to help further emphasize that her decision was the right one. Her heart ached just the same as she heard the plaintive tone to James' voice. "We've been over this already," Jenny finally said in a low voice. "Stop trying to make it harder."

James stomped a hoof. "Since I think you're making a huge mistake, I'm damn well going to make it harder for you."

Jenny rose to her hooves and spun around. "Now who's being selfish?"

James' pupils shrank slightly. "What are you talking about? I'm only thinking of you."

"You sure about that?"

"Jenny, you told me yourself, the night ponies have been helping you ever since that enchantment holding back your memories was dispelled. You won't have that anymore as a human!"

Jenny took a deep breath and tried not to shudder. The night ponies had tried several times to reach the minds of humans as they slept to no avail. Their abilities apparently worked only on fellow ponies. "I can deal with a few nightmares," Jenny muttered.

"But the point is, you don't have to," James insisted.

"I've explained this to you before," Jenny said in a tired voice. "Dispelling that enchantment did more than just unlock those traumatic memories. It made me really remember what it was like to be human."

"What, and suddenly you don't feel comfortable as a pony anymore?"

Yes, she did still feel comfortable in her pony body. She could have easily stayed in it for the rest of her life. "You still don't seem to understand, James, and I'm getting tired of explaining it to you."

James stepped closer. "Try me one more time."

Jenny frowned and stepped back, foiling his attempt to get her to better breathe in his scent. That always seemed to calm her, but right now, she wanted to remain riled up. "Being comfortable with this body doesn't mean I'm comfortable with myself, and I'm not at all comfortable with how I got here. I was forced into this, and I need to decide for myself what I want."

"But if you go back to being human, you won't want to be a pony again. I don't even know if you could change back."

"The point is not to change back! Again, you're not getting it!"

"Your whole family are ponies," James insisted. "Your parents, your sister, Bob--"

"Bob simply hasn't decided yet."

"Oh, come on. He says that, and then he comes up with yet another new spell every week. I'm telling you, he's going to stay pony."

"Don't go thinking you know his mind any more than you know mine," Jenny declared. "And I'll have you know that my family supports my decision. Why the hell can't you?!"

Jenny had not realized she had started yelling until the silence that ensued seemed so stark, James staring at her with glistening eyes and one fore-hoof raised as if feeling the need to bolt. He finally set it down and said in a quavering voice. "Because ... I'm in love with you, Jenny."

Jenny's pupils shrank to near pin-pricks. "What??"

James swallowed and looked away. "I-I'm sorry, maybe I should've told you earlier, maybe it would've mattered."

Jenny felt her throat tighten. She realized she should have seen this coming. Even back before the rehumanization drive started, she suspected his feelings for her ran deeper than she had wanted to believe.

"How are we supposed to pursue any sort of relationship if you become human?" James demanded in a shaky voice. "You'll be in a completely different world than me."

Despite all the push to get ponies to interact with humans more, there were still those like James and his family who would prefer to remain in their own little pony world. They saw nothing wrong with pretending that only other ponies mattered in their immediate lives.

She sometimes wanted to remind him that the first settlement -- now going under the unofficial name of Pony Hope until the US government formally recognized it -- had a devil of a time remaining where they were. They had become briefly embroiled in a dispute with humans over water rights, a contentious topic in Colorado even in the best of times. The federal government had stepped in with temporary solutions while they helped rewrite the laws, but so far no one was satisfied.

Yet this was all a distraction, an easy way for Jenny to refuse to deal with the problem. She could chastise herself for not dealing with this sooner, or even blame him for not revealing his feelings to her sooner, but that would be just avoiding the issue as well.

Jenny took a deep breath. "James, I'm sorry," she said in a much softer voice. "I like you. I really do. But ... I just ... I just never felt that way about you."

James gave her a hurt look, and his eyes still glistened, but thankfully he managed not to tear up. "I guess maybe I should've seen that," he said in a low voice.

"I like you as a friend," said Jenny. "You're a very good friend. You listen to me when I have to rant. You don't judge me when I tell you how I feel."

James considered. "If you delayed your decision to rehumanize, maybe you--"

"It won't change anything."

James lowered his gaze, his ears drooping.

"It won't be fair to you," said Jenny. "And it won't be fair to other girls who are interested in you."

James lifted his eyes and tilted his head. "What other girls?"

"I, ah, better not mention their names, but I have seen some making eyes at you."

James swished his tail. "But I don't want anypony else."

"I know, but you can't have the one you do want."

"But ... well ... wait, maybe we could make it work even if you're a human, I--"

"James, stop it," Jenny said. "After I rehumanize, I'm not likely going to be living here anymore. I'm not sure exactly where I will go at first, but I have to be among my own kind for a while. Certainly I'm going to visit often." She paused. "After all, it will play into what I'm thinking of doing with my life as a human."

"And what's that?"

"Help improve relations between humans and ponies."

James looked confused. "And just how does that play into your love of fantasy?"

Jenny smiled wanly. Having the complete story of her past laid out to her had not changed the fact that she still longed for her fantasies. That had been a sign that perhaps they were a natural part of her after all. "What's more fantastic than helping humans deal with little magical ponies in their midst?"

James gave her a faint smile. "I guess I can see that."

"Right now, I feel like I'm straddling two worlds," said Jenny. "In a way, considering the state of the world right now, that's not really a bad thing. But I need to feel more grounded in one or the other."

James stared.

"What?" Jenny inquired.

"It's just ... I don't know, it's like this is a side of you I've never seen before."

"What do you mean?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but ... you just seem a lot more, well, mature."

Jenny almost laughed. She thought back to the countless discussions she had had with her parents about that topic. None of them had worked. It had taken being transformed into a little pony to make her see the truth. "Maybe the girl you think you're in love with is the one that's not really me anymore. I've changed since we started going together as humans."

James tucked his tail between his hind legs. "I guess I was hoping we could be more like Tina and Bob."

"They have more in common than we do, than I think we ever did." Jenny paused. "And not to put too fine a point on it, James, but Tina would support Bob more if he decided to rehumanize. If you really want us to be more like them, give me that support."

James was silent for a long moment before he finally said. "I'll try. I really will."

Jenny let out a small sigh of relief. Despite how supportive her immediate family was, it would help having a friend outside that arena make the effort to understand and encourage her. When she had been transformed into a pony, she had no choice. This time, she was making a choice, and to her it felt tantamount to deciding to have some sort of huge elective surgery. She was about to disrupt her life again, and by her own decision.

She gave him a brief hug. "Thank you."

James managed a small smile at the contact, even if it were bittersweet. "How much time do we have? When are you going to do this?"

"In two weeks," said Jenny. "It was going to be in a few days, but we changed the appointment when my Dad found an opportunity to head to Grand Junction to see if he could reconnect with Aunt Mary and Grandfather George ..."





Harold was grateful when the old pickup truck finally came to a stop on the dusty road a few miles short of Grand Junction. His muscles ached from being bumped about on the badly rutted road. The healing wound on his flank where he had been grazed by a bullet still hurt. At least it wouldn't bleed anymore thanks to the unicorn he had encountered in a pony settlement outside Vail who had a healing spell.

"Here you go, buddy," said the beefy man at the wheel. "Far as I can take you."

Harold looked out the window, and his heart ached. He had not seen this place in years, and yet it seemed like it hadn't changed from that day he thought he had left it for the last time. "Thanks," he murmured as he fumbled for the door lock and pushed open the door.

He jumped to the ground with a loud clop of hooves, kicking up more dust. He reached up and slammed the door of the pickup shut, and the driver tipped his hat before heading off.

Harold shook himself vigorously until his coat looked less dulled by the dust, better revealing the stalks of grain that served as his cutie mark. It still left his mane looking a bit worse for wear, but that was to be expected considering this trip took him almost a week. Even if he had been able to count more on the generosity of humans willing to give him a lift, it belied the problem of the roads themselves.

Most interstate roads in the western states wound through mountains, and the most common hazard were rock-slides. I-70 alone was subjected to several during the course of a year, requiring men and equipment to clear, both of which were in short supply. It was worst in the spring and early summer with both the constant freeze-thaw cycles and the runoff from the melting snow, which was just when ETS and the immediate aftermath occurred. The Army Corp of Engineers had been assigned to clean up the worst of it until they were pulled off onto building Relief Centers. Only recently were ponies trying to pitch in to help.

Even where the roads had been cleared, the damage left behind had not been fixed yet in many areas. Ponies could clear big rocks, but not lay new asphalt or concrete.

Harold's heart pounded as he advanced further down the road. Despite his great earth pony strength, he felt very vulnerable as he recalled what Mary had described of armed men circling the farms and ranches as if they had become bunkers. He had already been shot at once when he chanced upon a small camp of survivalists.

The ponies of the settlements he had passed through who kept him supplied with food and water told more tales of small bands of humans who violently defended their land not just against ponies but human authorities who would seek to displace them. The National Guard had to be called in on multiple occasions.

He crested the hill, and at once he was taken with the sudden contrast.

The dusty roads had been testament to the greatest challenge of farming in this particular area: the fickle weather. Harold was always concerned for his father's welfare, and often kept abreast of the weather conditions. Before ETS hit, he had already known his father would have a tough season this year.

All that had changed. Before him spread a luxuriantly green landscape, the crops already up and ripening, far more advanced than what they had done back in Pony Hope.

The place was indeed guarded; he just had not expected the guards to be ponies.

Two massive stallions, an earth pony and a pegasus, stood guard at the road winding into the farmland. The earth pony had gray-green fur and a brown mane, the mark of a cracked boulder on his haunches. The pegasus had a sea-green coat and light blue mane, his mark that of water misting over tilled soil. They didn't carry weapons per se, but the earth pony looked stronger than even Harold, and the pegasus had huge wings to match his stature. They were not ponies he would want to get on the wrong side of.

That was precisely what did not happen. At the sight of Harold, they smiled, and the earth pony gestured, saying in a deep voice, "Come, friend, you are welcome here."

Harold trotted towards them, still feeling a bit wary, especially when he saw that the earth pony wore a pendant shaped like Sunset's cutie mark.

"If you are in need of food or shelter, we'll be happy to provide," said the pegasus. "We ask only that you assist us in return."

"I'd be happy to help as long as I'm here," said Harold. "Though I'm not staying all that long."

"We have enough ponies to sustain us for now," said the earth pony. "We have enough food and water that we can provide for some of your return trip. My name is Strong Hooves, and this--" He gestured towards the pegasus and gave an amused snort. "--is Jim."

The pegaus Jim rolled his eyes but smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I haven't quite bought into the whole pony naming thing. Lemme 'lone."

Harold managed a weak laugh. "Don't feel bad, Jim, I haven't quite either. Name's Harry Tanner."

Strong tilted his head. "Tanner? George's boy?"

Harold's heart leapt. "Yes! George Tanner is my father. Is he here?"

"Oh, yeah, he's here," said Jim. He chuckled. "And as ornery as he ever was."

"I'm here to see him. I wanted to find out how he's doing."

"Yeah, no worries," said Jim. "Hell, I'm sure your sister Mary will want to see you as well."

"If you want to see her that is," Strong said in a suddenly cooler voice.

Jim sighed. "Oh, don't go there again, Strong. Harry here is family."

"What's going on?" Harold said in a wary voice.

Strong frowned. "Let's just say we've heard some rather unsavory things about how humans are treating ponies. We've had this land as humans for generations. We're not moving, period. We don't give a shit that 'earth ponies can make any land good.' If humans want our surplus, they're welcome to it, but we demand a little respect in return."

Harold glanced between the two massive ponies. "I take it you've had some run-ins already?"

"Yeah, unfortunately," Jim admitted in a sad voice. "One of us was killed. That was before your sister showed up."

"So you can understand why we were reluctant to take her in," said Strong. "But George was insistent that we did."

Harold pieced this together in his head. So his sister Mary was human and his father was pony. "I'd really like to see her, too."

Jim turned to Strong. "I'm supposed to go off-shift in a few anyway. Mind if I knock off early and show Harry around?"

"It's been quiet today, it should be fine," said Strong.

Jim nodded his thanks and swept a massive wing around Harold. "This way."

Harold glanced back at Strong Hooves before leaning closer to Jim and saying in a low voice, "Is he always like this?"

"Try not to take him too seriously," Jim replied in an equally low voice as he folded his wing against his side. "He's bought lock, stock, and barrel into the whole idea that this pony thing was humanity's salvation or whatever. Frankly, I thought his beliefs were a little out there even before all this happened."

"And what about you?" Harry asked.

Jim shrugged. "Me, I've been doing farming all my life. I was an irrigation specialist." He laughed and opened his wings briefly. "Ha! Still am! So I just rolled with it. Beats having to set up and maintain expensive equipment."

Even though Harold had committed himself to remaining as he was -- indeed, he received his cutie mark the moment he had made that decision -- he still tried to take nothing at face value. Both the alien ponies and Bob had helped him question exactly what the future of ponies on Earth would be. It certainly was no longer as cut and dry as it had seemed to be that morning after the vision.

"I have to admit, I feel a little bad for Mary," said Jim. "I think she feels out of her element. She can't do things nearly as well or as fast as the earth ponies, so doing actual farming here didn't work out. Only reason I think she's here is to be close to George until she figures out what she really wants to do or where she can go."

"Just how much of Grand Junction was affected?" Harold asked.

"About half the population. Most of the humans have started to move away. No jobs for them. It's becoming more of a ghost town every day."

That saddened Harold. Some of his fondest memories as a kid had been taking the occasional excursion into town, usually to treat themselves to dinner at a restaurant or to drive over the Colorado National Monument.

"I've heard some ponies talking about trying to reclaim parts of the town for themselves," said Jim. "Even going so far as to replace the houses with ones sized more for us. Don't know if it'll go anywhere, though. You'd be surprised how many people or banks or whatnot claim they still own all the property when nopony's using it. Ridiculous, if you ask me."

"Isn't that the same that you and your fellow ponies here are doing?" Harold asked. "Claiming you still own the land?"

"We're here and still working this land, they're not," said Jim in a more serious tone. "Big difference."

Harold decided not to pursue the point further, for they had turned down another very familiar road which led to one of the small buildings provided for hired hands living on the property. His heart lurched when he saw the very familiar form of his sister sitting just outside the cottage, her long sun-bleached blond hair tied into a single loose braid that seemed to glow in the sunlight. A wide-brimmed hat adorned her head, shading her blue eyes. Her nimble fingers were working needle and thread as she appeared to be patching a work glove.

"Hey, Mary!" Jim called out.

Mary lifted her head. "Heya, Jim. What's up?" Her eyes shifted to Harold. "Who's your friend there? Another visitor from the settlement near Palisade?"

Harold surged forward a few steps and said before Jim could respond, "Mary, it's me, Harry!"

Mary's fingers stumbled in her shock, and she uttered a muted "ouch!" as she stuck herself with the needle. She bolted to her feet. "Holy shit, li'l bro, is that you??"

Before Harold could respond, she closed the distance, crouched, and pulled him into a massive hug.

"Mary, wait, I haven't had a bath in a while," Harold said, though his voice quavered with both excitement and relief.

"I don't care, Harry," Mary said in a shaky voice. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I could say the same for you. You never got ETS? Last time I talked to you, you had the start of the flu."

Mary broke off the embrace, smiling, her eyes glistening. "My flu took long enough to resolve itself that I got hit with that wall of light they said was the cure. So it never happened to me."

"But it sounds like Dad didn't avoid it."

Mary rolled her eyes. "That old goat wound up keeping from me the fact that he was coming down with the flu ahead of me. He's just too damn good at pretending he's not sick. So he got there first and started transforming."

Harold paused as he worked out the math in his head. "But he couldn't have been more than partially transformed when the cure was distributed. Couldn't he have had it reversed?"

"Harry, the brutal facts are that they couldn't get everywhere all at once," said Mary. "They had to pick and choose where they could get the most benefit until they got rid of the remaining transformation magic. Deep here in 'pony country' was not one of them. By the time they did drain that magic, he was fully pony. Besides, he was loathe to go to a doctor in the best of times, and that really didn't change." She smirked slightly. "Though maybe this was good for him in the end. It softened him up just a bit. Not much, mind you."

"Do you think he'll want to see me?" Harold asked.

"I honestly don't know. He's, um, avoided the topic whenever I brought it up."

Harold's ears drooped. "I came all this way, I can't just go back now. I have to see him."

Mary grinned and ruffled Harold's mane. "I never said you shouldn't. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I want to do this alone." Harold turned to Jim. "That includes you as well."

"Hey, no worries," said Jim. "If Mary vouches for you, that's good enough for me. I trust you know the way?"

Harold turned away from them. "Certainly. This place hasn't really changed, ponies or no."

It didn't take long for Harold to wish he had taken Mary up on her offer. Everything was indeed so familiar that it tugged at his heart and threatened to make him tear up. He had not seen this place ever since his final row with his father; it had been a bitter association, one of the reasons he had never gone back.

Despite having looked at the vision in a new light, one thing was indeed clear: he had not been honest with George behind his reasons for leaving the farm. His only excuse was that he had not been honest with himself, either.

He trotted along the narrow road that ran alongside his father's property. The next break in the fence would be where the feed trucks came in delivering grain for the chickens. He could easily jump the fence, but he wanted to respect his father's property.

Memories clouded his thoughts, of a little kid running along the fence, seeing how fast he could make it from one corner of the property to the other. He'd race his friends, and almost always beat them. They'd pretend to be soldiers, and the dirt road was a critical location behind enemy lines that they had to take. Or it would be cops and robbers, except everyone wanted to be a robber, so they were a gang on the run from the law.

"Hey, stranger."

Harold was so startled by the voice that he nearly stumbled as he whirled around, and his breath caught.

Approaching him from the other side of the fence was a hearty earth pony stallion with almost the same red coat as himself, except a shade darker. His mane was brown streaked with bits of gray. His eyes were deep amber. On his haunches was a cutie mark of a hoe and a shovel crossed over one another.

If Harold had not heard the voice, somehow he would have known that was his father. His throat closed up too tight to speak at first.

"Looking for work?" said George Tanner as he stopped at the fence. "I could use a few more hooves to work the flood ditches. Hmph. Those fancy-winged pegasi say they can put the rain anywhere I damn well want, but nothing beats being prepared. I ..." He trailed off. He sniffed the air. "Wait. Why ... why do you smell familiar?"

"Dad, it's me!" Harry blurted.

George's pupils shrank, and he backed up a half-step, his mouth dropping open. "H-harry?" he said in a small voice.

Harold swallowed hard and nodded.

"But ... y-you ..." George frowned slightly. "You have a lot of nerve coming back here now after all this! After you left me all those years ago claiming you didn't want the life of a farmer anymore, and now you show up with that cutie mark and expect me to ... t-to just forget that you ever ... that ... I ..."

With his own emotions in turmoil, Harold failed to hear the anger in his father's voice quickly break down. "Dad, I'm sorry I never told you the truth about why I really left. I don't want to go into that right now. I just wanted to know you're safe and--"

Harold never finished his sentence, as he was startled by his father's mis-timed jump that took part of the wooden fence down when his rear hoof caught. At first, Harold thought George had simply stumbled into him when he landed, until he felt his father's fore-legs wrapped tightly around him.

"I've missed you, son," George said in a choked voice. "God as my witness, I've missed you."

Harold had no words. He simply hugged his father in return. Explanations and reconciliation could wait. What mattered now was this moment.

Harold fervently believed that moments like this would be the light on the otherwise dark and forboding long road ahead.


THE END


(for now ...)