//------------------------------// // Fuse is lit - CRITICAL_MASS // Story: A Certain Magical Friendship - MIRROR_NOISE // by Sora2455 //------------------------------// “Hold on to the tail nice and tight; wear this blindfold to block your sight! Spin you round, one two three; Pin the tail on the po-nee!” And with that, Pinkie lifted Uiharu up onto her hind legs and spun her around three times. Uiharu landed and stumbled around dizzily, trying to regain her footing while blindfolded. Pinkie and Saten both steadied her with a gentle nudge from their heads into her middle, and pointed her in the direction of her target: a piece of stiff cardboard pinned to the wall of Pinkie's room in Sugercube Corner. Uiharu took a couple of uncertain steps forwards until she gently bumped her head into the wall. Having reached her target, she lifted her head up and pressed the pin she was holding in her mouth into the cardboard. The cardboard tail attached to said pin slid out of her mouth as she pulled her head back. She took a step back and removed her blindfold. “Pffff. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Uiharu’s cheeks flushed with heat as Pinkie rolled around on the ground laughing. She’d managed to pin [picture] Princess Celestia’s tail onto her head so that it lined up with her hair, but flowing in the opposite direction. “Hee hee hee.” Applejack remained upright, but she was also laughing. “It looks like she got her head stuck in some kinda rainbow-coloured cloud!” Uiharu’s Equish may have sucked, but it wasn’t exactly hard to tell that she was being laughed at. “Heh heh heh. Or that the artist messed up her head and tried to erase it by covering everything in hair, Railgun adds while laughing.” Saten hid her own grin – Uiharu’s blush, visible even though her fur, was mixing with the flowers in her mane in a way that reminded her of a radish. She said, drawing focus onto herself. Applejack shook her head. Saten reassured 9748. Uiharu pulled the tail out from the wall with perhaps a little more force than was strictly necessary, and handed it to 9748. Pinkie repeated her jingle from before, and she and Saten repeated what they had done to Uiharu. Unlike Uiharu, however, 9748 had wings to balance with, and so regained steady footing almost immediately. Her fur bristled, the lightning bolts inside it twisting in place until they all formed into a series of curving lines; like the kind iron particles form when a bar magnet is held near. 9748 twisted her head back and forth, as though she was trying to discern the origin of a sound. A pair of lightning bolts sat just above her ears like some kind of bizarre hairband, and as her head pointed in the direction of the wall, the two bolts swivelled down to point directly at the pin holding the picture of Princess Celestia to the wall. Uiharu asked. 9748 ignored her. Taking calm, measured steps, 9748 walked up to the wall. And then, a silly grin plastered on her blindfolded face, she pinned the tail onto the cardboard exactly where it was supposed to go. With a flourish, 9748 removed her blindfold. -snort- Her face coloured as the ponies behind her tried (and failed) to hold in their laughter. She’d placed the tail in the correct place all right – but she’d been so focused on getting the pin in the right place, she’d forgotten to make sure that the tail was pointing in the correct direction. She’d pinned it so that the tail was pointing straight up. Saten joked. 9748 spun around, her cheeks still burning. Applejack’s off-hoof comment drove 9748 past the point of coherency, and she was reduced to random spluttering. “My turn, my turn~!” Pinkie cried, snatching the blindfold off 9748. “Hold on to the tail nice and tight –” The other five ponies sat back and watched as Pinkie managed to pin Celestia’s tail above her middle, making it look like she was wearing a rainbow-coloured inner tube. Saten consoled 9748. Saten stepped forwards to take her turn with the blindfold, completely failing to notice that 9748 had gone very quiet. Certainly, Misaka had heard of the Sisters project. That is, she had heard about it in the same way that she had heard about the group of killer high school girls who lived in the sewers, or the project to build a laptop that could simulate Academy City, right down to the people who lived there – as a rumour that she’d heard in passing, or seen posted on the same kind of conspiracy websites that Saten liked to frequent. But she’d never paid it any mind. Academy City had always been full of crazy stories and legends like that. In a city where there really were people who could close their eyes and see a year into the future, something like palm reading seemed downright mundane. And in a city where all the researchers one day dreamed of reaching SYSTEM, an esper capable of understanding the intentions of God, something like dissecting bodies found in a UFO seemed almost pathetic. That was why rumours like that sprang up so quickly and easily – because in a place like Academy City, there was always the niggling doubt that they might actually be real. But at the same time, that was what made them so easy to dismiss. There were simply so many rumours like that that they couldn't all be real. Misaka had heard of more than a hundred rumours that focused around her specifically, and she knew them all to be false. In a way, that was almost the most shocking part of actually finding one of the mythical Sister clones – the betrayal of the stories that were supposed to all stay in the harmless category of ‘fake’. The ‘How’ was confusing enough – Tokiwadai put great effort into making the DNA of its students hard to acquire, to the point where they even vetted which hairdressers its students went to. Obtaining a copy of Misaka’s DNA in a good enough condition that it could be used as the basis of a cloning program was supposed to be impossible. But it was the ‘Who’ and ‘Why’ that were really occupying Misaka’s thoughts. To find the answers to those, she would first need to find the answer to ‘Where’. Which is why she was now standing in front of a locker. It was a simple coin-operated locker that was commonly found in train stations. As it was in a train station, it and the 40 or so identical lockers around it did not stand out in the slightest. (Although, Misaka did notice that this particular locker was out of view of the various security cameras that had been haphazardly set up without any regard for thoroughness or professional pride). There was a simple reason she was glaring at this locker – though, for clarity, perhaps it would be best to recap a little. Triangulation, as the name implied, used the angle from two different reference points to a third point to find the position of that third point. However, Misaka didn’t have two reference points – she just had herself. Normally, it would be impossible to calculate the position of the clones base just from the direction of their signal to her. Normally. Lets see – if I assume that the clone I’m tracking was moving on foot, then that limits the radius of the area they could have moved around in while I was searching for them. Catching that bus let me take a wide range of reference points in a short amount of time, and if I’m right, that means that the clone would have been inside this train station. It should be noted that Misaka had done those calculations in her head. She hadn’t even used pen and paper, let alone the computer that most people would be completely dependent on to calculate out relative positions from her bus’s route, remember the angles to those positions, then solve for x. However, even as she arrived at the station she knew it was too late. The transmissions she was following had stopped, and three different trains had left between then and her arrival. There was almost zero chance of the clone still being in the station. Dammit. Why’d she suddenly have to stop transmitting? Is it a coincidence, or do they have some kind of operational security? The useless lady at the information desk hadn’t remembered seeing her ‘twin’, so Misaka had shrugged and skipped straight ahead to illegally accessing the security camera server. The clone had arrived at the station with a large bag, entered the locker area, and then left on a train without said bag. Misaka might have been the #3 Level 5, but she still couldn’t catch up to an express train. The clone had gotten away – so she was checking the lockers to see what the clone had left behind. As she had already said, this part of the locker area was out of sight of the cameras, but fortunately she’d been left a clue. It was extremely faint – a Level 4 Electromaster might even have missed it – but this locker’s handle was ever-so-slightly magnetised. That either meant some kid had been leaving fridge magnets on it, or… Misaka tapped the locker with the back of her index finger, sending a jolt of electricity through the electronic lock that caused it to pop open. …or it’s been used regularly by an Electromaster. Misaka swung open the locker door, and there she found… She clapped her hands over her mouth immediately after that surprised shout, but she needn’t have bothered. No one had hear her over the hubbub of the train station. She looked into the locker again. She couldn’t be sure without trying to set one off, but who in their right minds would need a fake landmine? She reached out to touch it, then thought better of it. Slowly, it occurred to her that there were other items in the locker, each in their own bags. Taking up the majority of the space at the back of the locker was the kind of bag that someone might use to carry a violin around. The same kind of bag, in fact, that action movie villains frequently used to carry rifles though the streets without being noticed. Misaka swallowed, hard. What exactly was the rumour that she had heard regarding the Sisters? Wasn’t it that there was a program to produce clones of her for military use? And hadn’t she encountered one such ready-made soldier heading towards the hole that her friends were in? Not even bothering to close the highly dangerous locker, Misaka ran out of the train station as fast as her legs could move. “Thanks for, uh, coming to visit me.” “Oh, that’s quite all right Rainbow. It’s absolutely no trouble at all – isn’t that right, Fluttershy?” “Oh, yes indeed Rarity. No trouble at all.” The rainbow-haired weather-mare was lying in bed, legs down. Considering the reason Rainbow Dash was in Ponyville General Hospital in the first place was for broken ribs, Rarity and Fluttershy had expected to see bandages wrapped around Rainbow’s barrel, but the nurse on duty had informed them that that hadn’t been the recommended treatment in decades. “So, ah, what did the doctor say?” Fluttershy asked quietly (her default volume). Rainbow adjusted her legs, trying not to look like she was fidgeting. “Oh, well, you know how it is. She just wants me to stay overnight for observation, but she’s pretty sure I just need a couple weeks to heal.” “Rainbow.” Rarity said flatly. Rainbow froze in place. “Uh, yeah?” “You’re preening.” Rainbow looked down: her neck and one of her wings had curved around to meet, and she was in the middle of licking one misaligned feather back into place. “Uh, yeah?” She repeated. “I preen when I get nerv – I mean whenever I like! Whenever I like. Yeah.” “In public?” Rarity asked, slightly incredulously. “Okay, first of all? This is a hospital room, not the town square. Second of all? Don’t be a such a prude Rarity!” “I-it is a perfectly natural thing to do.” Fluttershy spoke up in defence of her fellow pegasus. “Girls, there are plenty of ‘perfectly natural’ things that ponies do that I would rather not witness, thank you very much.” Fluttershy could see the steam building up in Rainbow’s head, so she quickly changed the topic. “S-so you should be out of hospital by tomorrow?” “Huh?” Rainbow blinked, her train of thought broken. “Oh, uh, yeah. Though the doc wants me to stay on ‘light activities’ for the next couple weeks. So, pretty much none of the things I actually like doing.” “E-except napping.” Fluttershy pointed out. “Okay, fine, except napping. But seriously, what am I gonna do if you guys go on another adventure without me?” “Rainbow.” Rarity sighed, rolling her eyes. “I highly doubt that another ‘adventure’ is going to spring up the minute we finish celebrating the first one. That would just be ridiculous.” “Sparkle!” Kuroko yelped breathlessly, reappearing in a flash of magic. “She’s not in the train station either!” “Well, she hasn’t returned to the forest – not unless she can move faster than teleportation.” Twilight scowled. Several band-aids were placed on her face, which combined with her uncombed mane to give her a weird sort of punk look. The other ponies who were still in the town square were mostly there to help clean up the remains of the party of the day just past, and they gave Twilight and Kuroko wide berths as they argued. Kuroko’s ears swivelled back and forth as the stress of the situation built up. “But, then where is she?” She blurted out. “We’d know if you hadn’t just let her walk out on us!” Kuroko faltered, taken aback by the venom in Twilight’s voice. “I was in shock! My fragile maiden’s heart had taken a terrible blow! Surely you understand?” “Nope.” “R-rejected…!” Kuroko clutched at her heart dramatically, but Twilight was in no mood to mindlessly play the straight mare. She was there… she was right there! Living proof that my suspicions were correct, and she just walks out the minute my back’s turned! No, Twilight was not feeling very charitable towards Kuroko… or in general right now. That portal was dangerous, didn’t anypony else see that?! The longer they were in the dark about its effects, the more damage would be done. “We have to find Railgun, now!” Twilight snapped. “I know, I know!” Kuroko moaned. “Oh sissy, where are you?” “Dare I ask why you’re looking for me?” Misaka asked crossly, standing just off to the side the duo. … “S-sissy?!” “R-railgun?!” The shocked cries of Kuroko and Twilight rang out in synchronisation. The questions started almost immediately after. “A-are you alright?” “Where did you go?!” “When did you stop referring to yourself in the third person?” “Are you going to apologise for what you did to my muzzle?!” Rather than actually answer any of those questions, Misaka just scowled. “So, she’s already started attacking ponies…” “Eh?” Kuroko blinked. Twilight tilted her head to the side. “She?” “My clone!” Misaka spat. “Looks exactly like me but acts nothing like me?” Kuroko’s mouth dropped open, having been shocked into silence. Twilight blinked, the idea working its way through her head. “Your… clone? That was a clone of you?!” “Yeah!” Misaka said in the tone of voice usually reserved for ‘no duh’. “What did you think was going on when you saw ‘me’ acting so out-of-character?” “A clone.” The heat of anger that had been banished by Misaka’s sudden arrival was coming back, twice as strong as before. “This whole time, I’d thought I’d found proof, and she turns out to be completely unrelated?!” “Proof of what, exactly?” Misaka raised an eyebrow. Twilight felt the last of her patience slip away from her. “Forget it.” She snapped. “I’m going back to the library.” So saying, she charged up her horn and vanished in the purple flash of a teleport spell. Kuroko blinked at the empty space Twilight had left behind, then turned to face Misaka. Misaka interrupted, Misaka humphed. “Spike!” Twilight called, reappearing with a flash in the ground floor of the Golden Oaks library. “Spike, where are you?!” “I’m here!” The dragon in question ran up the stairs as fast as his short legs would let him. “Did you find Railgun?” “She’s a clone.” Twilight told him sourly, trotting past him to the bookshelves. Spike blinked, frozen in place for a few seconds as he tried to process this new information. “Um… what?” “The ‘Railgun’ we met is a clone!” Twilight yelled, scanning the book titles. “We met the real one in the town square!” Spike blinked again, then hurried over to Twilight’s side. “Er, why exactly does Railgun have a clone?” “Who cares!” Twilight scowled. “It doesn’t matter. It means that she’s useless to our research on the anomaly after all.” Spike scratched his head. “Well, what if it was that weird portal that cloned her?” Twilight froze. Spike took the moment to look worriedly at the bags under Twilight’s eyes. She’d been working hard for nearly 36 hours straight now… “Spike, that’s brilliant!” Twilight dashed over to a different bookshelf. “Quick, help me find a book about clone magic!” This library was very sloppily organised by Twilight’s standards – it was only indexed by book title – so it took the two of them several minutes to find anything helpful, and all that book did was point them to another book that the library didn’t have. As she fruitlessly looked through The Wizarding Bible and Modern Magical Mysteries, Twilight controlled her frustration by planning out a giant book cataloguing session she was going to do as soon as she had proven her suspicions about the hole in the Everfree. Eventually, Spike found something in Exotic Magical Effects, 32nd Edition. “Twilight! Have a look at this!” Twilight dashed over to Spike, so hasty that she snatched the book up (with her magic) without giving him a chance to actually let go of it, leaving him dangling in mid-air. “‘Creating a true copy of a creature (and not simply an illusion or ‘time twin’) is one of the few magical effects that modern spell-casting has yet to duplicate. As of the time of publication, it remains only achievable through randomised magical sources, such as the magic of a draconequus, or of the Everfree Forest. The only known dependable source of this effect is the ‘Mirror Pool’, found in the Everfree Forest.” Twilight dropped the book, letting both it and Spike hit the ground with a loud -thud-. “That’s it! The magic of the Everfree Forest must be interfering with the anomaly!” She gasped as another possibility occurred to her. “Or maybe it’s even the source of it!” “Ow…” Spike rubbed his head where the book had fallen on it. “Okay, but how do you go about proving that?” Twilight dashed over to the bookshelves on the other side of the library. “Mirror Pool, Mirror Pool… here!” She pulled another book of the shelves. “‘Mirror Pool clones are the distorted reflections of their original selves, and frequently fail to recognise even close friends and family.’ This fits perfectly with what we saw!” “Yeah,” Spike said “but that’s not actually –” “There’s even a spell to deal with the clones!” Twilight closed the book with a snap. “When you say ‘deal’ with them –” “I’ll be right back, Spike!” With that, Twilight teleported out again, leaving Spike alone with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to end well at all.