Sunset awoke to the faint smell of ozone and the sound of quiet radio static. She blinked once or twice and sat up. A tall, grey pony with deep, green eyes like the mist in a forest and a messy, mostly-black mane glanced up from where he sat at a desk. “Oh. Awake at last. Very good, I was getting worried. Do you, by chance, know a nine-letter word for ‘cannot be rubbed out’?”
Sunset stared. “Where am I?”
The stallion sucked the end of his quill thoughtfully. “W-h-e- no, that’s only eight letters. And it— oh. Oooh.” He nodded. “Right. At least you didn’t start off asking if you were dead. That’s what they usually do when they wake up.”
Sunset waited for him to elaborate. After several long minutes of having him beam idly at her, she prompted, “Am I dead?”
His jaw popped open. “Oh! Dear me, no,” he said, violently shaking his head and making the jagged blue and silver stripes in his mane dance. No, not dead. Well. For a given value of dead, anyway. You’re just…” he made a vague sort of gesture with his hooves. “Dreaming. Actually, that’s not right either, but— indelible.”
“Huh?”
“Nine letter word for cannot be rubbed out. Indelible.” He jotted that down with a nod. “I much prefer Sudoku, don’t you?”
Sunset wasn’t quite sure how to reply. This conversation was rather like talking to Pinkie Pie. “So where am I?”
The stallion blinked owlishly, his vague green eyes widening. “Have I not said that yet? No. No, I suppose I haven’t. Hm. Well, this is sort of… a hospital. For the mind. Except, it’s also in your mind. And also in the whole unified subconscious of everyone, which isn’t actually a real thing.” He considered this. “It’s not something that lends itself well to analogies,” he admitted. “Look. You’ve just had a very bad thing trying to take over your mind. This is where you recover from that. In all honesty, you’ve gotten over it quite quickly, for,” he chuckled, “fairly obvious reasons.”
“Fairly obvious.” Sunset repeated flatly. “Yes. Obvious as the wings on my back.”
For some reason, the stallion seemed to find this enormously funny. “Yes,” he said through his chuckles. “Exactly. Good to see your sense of humor has bounced back quickly. Now, I daresay you’re fit to leave whenever you’re ready, Miss Shimmer. Your door is right there,” he nodded to a bright orange archway that Sunset could swear hadn’t been there a moment before. It clashed horribly with the overall grey palette of the room, which was a rather messy cross between a hospital room, a mad scientist’s laboratory, and a library.
Slowly, she eased herself up from the bed. Her legs still felt vaguely weak, but she wobbled over to the indicated doorway. As she was about to leave, she paused. “What’s your name, then? You know mine, but I don’t know yours.”
The stallion blinked. “I’m not sure I have one,” he admitted. “What about… Brain Storm? Does that suit me, do you think?”
Sunset frowned. The genial, absent-minded unicorn seemed a far cry from that name. “How about… Mental Note?”
He shook his head. “I like the start,” he said thoughtfully. “The ‘Ment’ part. I’ll work on it, tell you another time.”
Sunset nodded. “...Right. See you later, Mentie,” She trotted out the door.
The stallion waved. “Goodbye, Sunset,” he called after her. “And good luck!” The door swung shut with a click before she could reply.
The grey pony sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Ment— Ment— Sediment— Fundament— Mental— Mentie— Hm. What do you think?” he asked the other pony in the room.
The beefy grey unicorn made no reply. The grey pony sighed, trotting over. “Still asleep, then? That’s over a thousand years, now. Really, I’d like to know more about you, my good chap.” He looked down at the worn, but calm, face. “Someday, you’ll wake up, I know you will.”
He sat down next to the patient, brow furrowed in thought. “Mentie. I rather like that, but it’s not quite… Mentiad, perhaps?” He brightened. “Yes. Mentiad! I like that! What do you think— oh, yes. Right.” Mentiad sighed and, with a gentle wingtip, brushed a stray lock of hair away from the face of the patient. “Sweet dreams, Sombra,” the alicorn of mind said as he trotted back to his crosswords.
***
Sunset, meanwhile, found herself in a large hallway covered in strange, swirling murals. She trotted along slowly, examining the artwork. It was odd— almost as though it were moving wherever wasn’t looking. “You like?” a scratchy voice asked from behind her.
She spun around, only to be met with empty space. “Over here!” the voice came again.
She looked around once more but again, there was nothing there. Looking forwards once more, she found herself staring into a pair of mismatched red and yellow eyes. “Boo.”
Sunset screamed and leapt backwards. The creature bent double laughing at her reaction. “Oh! Oh, you should’ve seen your face! Ahahaha! Oh, I’ve still got it…”
Sunset’s mouth dropped open. She recognized this figure. “Discord,” she whispered fearfully, backing away from the chimera of chaos as the hallway around her evaporated like smoke, revealing hot pink skies and land that rippled and rolled like the ocean.
They noticed, and rolled their eyes. “Oh, come now, Sunbutt— no, that’s already taken. Hm. Come on, Fireflanks, you’ve nothing to fear from me. Frankly, I’m rather impressed. One day, and you nearly destroy not one, but two entire universes! That actually beats the old record, so well done for getting that out of your system early.”
“I— I didn’t mean—”
Discord waved a claw dismissively. “Of course not. And neither did Nightmare Moon, nor Sombra, and neither did Barley Corn, and neither did Crystal Structure. They all got forgiven in the end.” They hesitated. “Well. Those of them that weren’t killed by their own evil scheme.”
“...Who?”
“Who is for owls, my dear Shimmer,” the chimera said laconically. “What say we get down to the crux of the matter, hm? You’ve just nearly destroyed not one, but two universes with a half-flanked plan, all to get back to your friends, something no being has ever done before. Not even Starswirl the Bearded. Actually, he might have specifically forbidden it. That means… hold on.” They pulled out a large packet of paper with the word SCRIPT written in large letters on the front and flipped through. “Hm. Watched you from… not true, also a little creepy… I don’t like to sing, so that’s a no… Y’know what? Poof. You’re a draconequus now. Congrats, I’ll get Pinkie to throw you a party or something.”
Sunset stared. “I’m a draconequus,” she said flatly. “Sure. Good one, ha ha.”
Discord sniffed and turned up their nose. “Look in a mirror lately? Fine. Don’t believe me. You’ll see for yourself when you accidentally chaos-mage up a mysterious glowing cloud that rains jam and hedgehogs down onto an unsuspecting populace.” They paused for a moment, then pulled out a notebook. “Jam… and… hedgehogs…” they muttered, scrawling on one page. “Anyway, yes. You are now a fully fledged chaos god-slash-goddess-slash-nonbinary deity (delete whichever is inappropriate) of… Friendship? Magic? Books? Whatever Twilight’s domain is, you’re the chaotic version. Good luck with that.”
Before Sunset could reply, Discord yanked down on a chain that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and the world spun away into nothingness.
***
The ringing echoes of the explosion filled the room. All else was silence. Twilight let out a strangled wail, stumbling away from the mirror and into the scorched section of the floor. Flash collapsed onto his knees. Trixie didn’t move at all-- it was as though she’d been frozen to the spot. Her chest rose and fell, but that was about the only sign she was still alive. Human Pinkie’s mane had gone flat, and her Equestrian counterpart was collapsing like a bad souffle. Both Rarities turned away, one weeping into Applejack’s mane, the other in Spike’s arms. The dragon himself was openly bawling.
Princess Twilight was blinking her eyes, utterly confused. “What happened? Did we win?”
Fluttershy said nothing. Her human counterpart stared at the ground blankly. Only Rainbow, it seemed, had anything to say. “We killed her,” she said, her face blank and her voice numb with incomprehension.
There was a long silence. Then, “We killed her,” Dash said again, her voice now filled with horror. “She was our friend.”
“Trixie, are you okay?” the Doctor asked, resting a hoof on her withers.
The touch seemed to wake her from the spell. She fell to the ground, letting out a keening wail. “She’s dead!”
The silence fell again. The Doctor took a deep breath and glanced around the room. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Trixie is sorry. She did this. She brought the humans through.”
“And you saved the world,” Princess Twilight said quietly. “Two worlds, really.”
“You did the right thing, Trixie,” the Doctor said. “You did everything right. Sunset was gone the moment she let that-- thing take over her mind.”
“She wasn’t! She apologized to Trixie for putting her in the mirror! She was still Sunset, and now she’s dead!”
The Doctor took another deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a tricky one. “Trixie…” he said gently. “You tried to save her. Remember that. It’s a small comfort, I know. But sometimes, we can’t save everyone.”
Princess Twilight frowned at the floor. “Y’know,” she muttered, “these scorch marks look kind of familiar…”
The Doctor frowned. “Twilight, not the time.”
Rarity sniffed and glanced back, pulling away from Spike for a moment. “You know, now you come to mention it…” she agreed.
The Doctor glared at them for a moment, but turned back to Trixie. “The important thing is that we all try to save who we can, for as long as we--”
Whatever he was about to suggest was cut off by the sound of a flushing toilet from directly overhead. Everypony looked up as a pipe extended out of the ceiling and spat out a fireball right in the center of the room. There was a moment of silence. Then, with a groan, the fire sat up and stretched. “Word of advice,” Sunset grumbled. “Never let Discord give you a ride home.”
She glanced around, seeing the astonished, stricken faces. “What? Is there something in my hair?”
She said no more, for at that precise moment, she was knocked to the floor in a tacklehug by a certain blue magician. “YOU’RE ALIVE!” Trixie cried joyfully. Then, blinking, she pulled back. “You also appear to be on fire, slightly.”
Sunset stood up, and everypony gasped. Her mane and tail had apparently turned to flame, and she now sported a pair of phoenix-like wings. Discord grinned, having appeared soundlessly behind Fluttershy. “All hail the newest goddess of chaos.”
Fluttershy squeaked in surprise and spun around. Discord merely laughed until they felt a tug on his tail. “Wrong one,” Fluttershy whispered from directly behind them.
Discord glanced around. “Well. This is going to get confusing,” they grumbled. “Hold on.” They poked the human Fluttershy's upper lip, and she gasped in shock as a handlebar moustache sprouted from her face. “There we go,” the draconequus grinned. “Now, as for the rest…”
As Discord chased the alternate Rarity around the room, both Twilights approached Sunset. “Are you alright?” the alicorn asked gently.
Sunset stared flatly at her. “I just had my brain hijacked, turned evil again, and tried to conquer two worlds in the name of friendship. Yeah, I’m great.”
The bespectacled unicorn giggled. “Well, at least you’re feeling well enough for sarcasm.”
Despite herself, Sunset cracked a faint grin. “Yeah, I guess that’s something, anyway.” The grin faded. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for everything I did. I just… I don’t know.”
The alicorn smiled. “That’s okay. You didn’t mean any of it.”
“No, that’s the thing,” Sunset groaned. “I did. All of it. It was like all my worst fears and thoughts just got shoved to the front of my brain, and I guess I panicked.”
The Twilights looked at one another. “Interesting,” said the unicorn slowly.
“Very interesting,” the alicorn agreed. “Sunset, do you think you could help us with a few little experiments?”
Sunset’s pupils dilated. “I, uh, I should probably… go. Over there. To… talk to somepony.”
As Sunset trotted off, she bumped into another pony. “Oh, jeez, sorry,” she winced, helping the other back to their hooves only to find herself looking into her own eyes. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi,” the other Sunset replied awkwardly.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about what I said there. We cool?”
“Um. Yeah, I think so. Hey, I can try to be more like you, I—”
“No,” Sunset replied shaking her head. “No, no, no. That’s what got me into the whole ‘destroy the world to get my way’ mindset in the first place. You just… be you. That’s all you need to be.”
The unicorn smiled. “Thanks, Sunset.”
“Anytime, Sunset.”
Suddenly, a door swung open at the far side of the room. The figure that stepped through was tall and fair. She was also breathing heavily, her coat and mane matted and her eyes bulging. Princess Celestia stumbled into the room. “Right,” she said, looking around dazedly. “Had to fight a bunch of vines and some tone-deaf ghosts. What did I miss?”
Dash leaned over to Rarity. “Is that Principal Celestia?”
“PrinCESS Celestia, yes,” the other hissed back. “Now, hush.”
Sunset stared at the alicorn like a mouse would look at a hungry owl. “Uh. Hi, mom.”
The princess of the Sun stared back for a long moment. Then, with a cry, she leapt forward to pick Sunset up in a tight embrace, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks.
The unicorn Twilight coughed and adjusted her glasses. “I think this might be something of a personal moment. Perhaps it would be best for us to go…”
“Good idea,” her alicorn counterpart agreed. “It’s getting a little hard to tell who’s from which side of the mirror, and it’ll only get worse when the others arrive.”
The other nodded. “Nice to finally meet you in person— er, in pony,” she grinned.
“You too. And thanks for your help today.”
The two nodded at each other, smiling. “Come on,” the bespectacled unicorn called. “Time to go home, girls.”
The two Pinkies looked at each other, exchanging mischievous grins. “But how do” “You know which” “One of us” “Is which?”
Everypony else stared, horrorstruck. Celestia squeezed Sunset a little closer to her chest. “There’s two of them,” Dash whispered.
“Ah can see that.”
“Is this… the end times?”
“Ah thought we jes’ stopped that.”
“Shhh, no, there is no space for rationality in the new pink world order…”
Twilight sighed. “Right, time to go, whichever Pinkie is ours, follow us. Whichever Pinkie isn’t ours, you should probably know that humans tend to eat a lot of meat. Except Fluttershy.”
“I don’t think I could ever eat anything that had a face,” the human-turned-pegasus whispered.
“Aaand on that note, it is definitely time to go,” Sunset said, trotting back through the portal.
“Hey!” Sunset called from where Princess Celestia was still embracing her. “Flash! One more thing!”
The orange pegasus turned around, still completely confused. “Um, yes?”
“My guitar?”
“Oh!” He fumbled with the strap. “Let me just…”
A fire-blue aura surrounded him, and he found himself being dragged through the air to land next to his ex. Gently, she lifted the instrument over his head and set it over her own barrel. Then, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Good luck,” she murmured, nodding at her doppelganger, who was watching, curious, from the mirror’s threshold. The stallion nodded dumbly, then staggered away.
“See you all later,” Twilight said, taking Flash gently by the forehoof and following the other humans through the mirror.
Sunset paused, putting a hoof to her chin. "Oh, hey!" she shouted at the mirror. "Hey, wait! If we could maybe figure out a way to get all my stuff through the portal, that would be good! Like, maybe not even all of it, just the pictures. And the books. And the lamp! I really liked that lamp. But, uh, yeah, anytime that works for you guys. Love ya!"
At long last, Celestia turned to her student again. “Oh, my dear Sunset, I’m so glad to see you again. Can you ever forgive me?”
Sunset stared at the mirror for several moments longer. Celestia's heart plummeted. But after a long silence, Sunset turned to look at her former mentor, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Can you forgive me?”
“Yes, yes, you’re all utterly irredeemable but we love you anyway,” Discord grumbled. “Ow!” they added as Fluttershy smacked them with a wing.
“Trixie believes that what Discord is saying is that you both forgave each other long ago, so all you need to do now is to forgive yourselves so you can move on with your lives.”
Everypony stared. “That was... deeper than I’d expected,” Spike said.
“It also wasn’t even remotely what I meant— Ow! Okay, okay, I’ll behave!” Discord grumbled.
Sunset wriggled free of the princess’s grip. “Thank you, Trixie,” she said sincerely. “You saved my life, my sanity, everything, even though I was really terrible to you. I hope you know how much that means to me.”
The unicorn grinned. “They don’t call Trixie ‘Great and Powerful’ for nothing.”
“Yes, yes, now, Celly, what's your schedule look like for the next two weeks? I want to plan Sunset's coronation dinner, and I need to know so I can schedule it at the most inconvenient time for you, possibly in the middle of your lunch break, or three in the morning. It isn’t every day you get a new draconequus, you know, and what’s more…”
Sunset looked around. Ponies were smiling at her. Her surrogate mother was trading barbs with a chaos spirit. A time traveler stood over in one corner, chuckling softly as he watched them. A unicorn and a dragon were snogging very publicly. Things had changed. Her world would never be the same again. All things considered though, she could work with this.
The Great and Powerful Trixie grinned at her and whispered, “Just wait until we face something REALLY unusual.”
Sunset grinned back. Yeah. She could work with this.