//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Textbook Soldier // by Backslasherton //------------------------------// “...Then they charged up the beaches of South France, in what the boys in the army later called ‘The Other D-Day’. That nickname is actually a reference to a different operation that went on earlier in the book. If you’ll remember when the allies took Rome earlier on in the book, the next day there was the invasion of Northern France, Operation Overlord. That event ultimately came to be called ‘D-Day’ due to the massive scale of it all. If you’re interested, there’s more on that event in some of the other units’ books. Now, back to the 36th. So, James is a part of the 141st Infantry Regiment, one of the units under the 36th. But there were others, of course. The 141st’s sister regiments are the 142nd and the 143rd...” Mr. Synopsis didn’t take any notice to the kids of his class that had completely zoned out. Most of them weren’t doing it to be rude, of course. It was just that his passion for the book was just a bit much for them. To make it worse, he was hard to follow. He’d think of something and go off on a tangent about that until he somehow found himself back to the original topic. Those who managed to stay with him, however, tried their best to read along with him as he spoke. Even someone like Sunset Shimmer found it difficult on a good day. At first, it had been overwhelming. Coming to class was, to her, like standing in a hurricane with nothing more than a lace parasol to keep her dry. The minute she left the class, she wanted nothing more than to never speak of the Their Darkest Hour book series ever again. But the passion radiating from Mr. Synopsis as he described their hardships in the country of Italy had worked its way into her head. When she found she couldn’t sleep the night before, she had picked up the book and started reading through it to pass the time. But before long, she’d read past the next two weeks’ reading assignments and had to force herself to put down the book to get at least some sleep. She didn’t end up getting very much, but she did discover that Mr. Synopsis’s ‘lectures’ were no less difficult to listen to when one was sleep deprived. “Now, while in France, the 442nd Infantry Regiment was attached to the 36th,” Sunset blinked at the board as she realized Mr. Synopsis had written a list of all the units inside the 36th Infantry in a bizzare looking family tree while she'd zoned out. “This was a unit entirely made up of Japanese-Americans who volunteered for service in Internment Camps back in the United States. The 442nd would become the most decorated unit in their nation’s history...” Just before he launched into another tale from the book, the bell rang, and all his enthusiasm came to a grinding halt. With a sigh, all of the energy from before left his mannerisms as the students jumped to their feet, grabbing their bags as they left. “Alright, make sure you finish up to Chapter 12 for next class discussion,” he shouted over the noise and dropped his book on his desk. “There will be a quiz two weeks from now, so make sure you keep up with your assignments!” All of the students shuffled out of the door, wasting no time in leaving as soon as possible. Mr. Synopsis grabbed the spare copies of the book from the desks where students left them and stacked them on a table by his desk. Sunset stopped just shy of the doorway, and turned over her shoulder, glancing up at Mr. Synopsis. She paused to think for a moment before she walked back to his desk. “Excuse me… Mister Synopsis,” Sunset said. He looked up and grinned. “Hey, Sunset,” He nodded in greeting. “What can I do for you?” Sunset smiled back politely. “Well, I just had a question about the book we were reading.” Mr. Synopsis’s grin grew wider at her question. “Great! I’d be happy to talk to you about it.” Sunset nodded. “Well, I was just wondering… did any of that really happen?” Mr. Synopsis’s smile faltered slightly and Sunset mentally kicked herself. She had forgotten that he was a new teacher and he didn’t know about her lack of history lessons. To his credit, he seemed to take it in stride, even if Sunset felt she got knocked down a few pegs in his mind. “Well… no. The Their Darkest Hour book series is part of the ‘Earth’ writing project. It’s all a bunch of authors writing an alternate history of humanity with more divides and violence. It, thankfully, never happened. And hopefully, it never will,” he grinned. “The bad stuff, I mean. I don't think I'm alone in my wanting to someday see a generation of young men and women as selfless as those portrayed in Their Darkest Hour. Just, hopefully, under different circumstances,” He chuckled to himself as he finished. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask?” Sunset shook her head. “No, that’s all, thank you.” He nodded again. “Alright. I’ll be here if you ever have any more questions.” Sunset nodded and left his class. She wasn’t really paying attention to the world around her, beyond not running into people in the hallways. Her mind was filled with thoughts, most of which were centered around the events of the book. Her thoughts stayed on that particular piece of literature all through the rest of her day and past the final bell. After the larger crowd of students had cleared out, she sat down against the side of the statue, waiting for the city bus to come along. She stared absentmindedly at where Rainbow and Applejack were passing a soccer ball back and forth on the school’s front lawn. Pinkie watching and cheering both of them on simultaneously. Sunsent didn’t take notice, however, as her mind was still wrapped up in her daydreaming. But what if it had been real? What would they be like? Sunset thought, Brave enough to leave their families so young. Young enough to be a student here at CHS. She thought of the main character in the book, Private Garrett. He was a rifleman from the 36th Infantry. Each book in the Their Darkest Hour series, supposedly, had a theme to it that reflected different aspects of the war, but none of the authors ever told what they were. According to Mr. Synopsis’s theories, The Fightin’ 36th was written to show the selflessness of those who volunteered to fight. If that were true, then James was the poster child for those volunteers. The entire book followed him from when he joined the army to the end of the war. She assumed so, at least. Sunset hadn’t finished the book yet, so she didn’t know for sure. But even in what she’d read, he wasn’t a model soldier by far but he did his duty and he never asked for special recognition for it. Sunset connected with the character instantly. Once upon a time, she’d have called someone like him weak: a mindless drone who bends to anyone with enough authority to tell him what to do. But that person was gone. Her friends had shown her that. Now, once she’d read his story, she realized he was anything but that. She’d been in his mind as his home country had been attacked. She’d felt his grief when he learned his fellow Americans had been killed. She knew that when he signed his name on his enlistment papers, it was anything but mindless. All Sunset had to do was imagine if someone had hurt one of her friends, and she could understand exactly why James did what he did. The more she understood of James, the more she found herself drawn to his character. He was kind, compassionate; friendly, if a bit awkward; and in everything he did, he wanted to do his best. Sunset grinned fondly to herself. He was a gentleman, but not perfect. But of course, who really is ‘perfect’? She herself was evidence enough of that. James was the kind of person to look past that though. And that’s why Sunset had fallen in love with him. Wait, love? Sunset thought to herself. Where had that come from? She frowned, repeating her thoughts in her head. No, that was ridiculous. There was no way she was falling in love with a fictional character. That’d be silly. ...Right? “Hello, Sunset!” She jumped. Rarity smiled brightly at Sunset as she walked up and sat down beside her. Sunset tried to grin casually. “H-Hey Rarity.” “You seem to be quite deep in thought, darling. Is something the matter?” “No, I was just... Well…” Sunset hesitated. “...Have you read the book for English?” “The one with all the fighting and stuff?” Rarity asked. She shook her head. “No, darling. I can’t say I have. It seems awfully depressing. I’d much rather read my own books, thank you.” Sunset had to agree, Rarity had a point. The books weren’t exactly a shining ray of joy, but she thought that was what made them so much better. It makes it more real when not everyone gets a happy ending. And boy did a lot of people not get happy endings. “I guess it can be at times. But still, I think you might like it. The characters in the story are a lot like the ones in your books. Almost like those ‘knights in shining armor’ in those old fairy tale stories.” “Oh? Are they now?” Sunset grinned. She knew she’d get Rarity’s attention with that one. “Oh absolutely. Brave and selfless young men who volunteered to leave their families back home and risk their lives every day for their country. Some even lied about their age to fight early. All so that they could protect their families back home. It just amazes me to think about what they went through.” Rarity smiled and nodded knowingly. “I suppose it does, darling. When you describe it like that, I suppose I might try to read the book. It certainly has you quite smitten.” Sunset blushed as she realized Rarity had seen right through her. “W-Well... I guess. I mean, it’s just…” Sunset sighed. “The more I read, the more I want to meet one of them. Just to get to know them. To find out what kind of person does that sort of thing. To be that brave and selfless and to put others before yourself...” Sunset trailed off with a grin on her face. “Just think of how amazing they must be.” Rarity’s smile turned into a knowing grin. “Looks like your ‘Knights in Shining Armor’ comment may have come from somewhere a bit more personal,” Rarity smirked. “It wasn’t that obvious... was it?” “A little,” Rarity giggled lightly. “Lucky for you, I don’t believe anyone else saw it but me. But don’t worry, Sunset, I won’t tell anyone about it.” Sunset shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m obsessing over this so much. It just completely roped me in. Way more than any other story has before. What they did was just so... awful. And the fact that a lot of them did it willingly for so long. It’s just incredible to me.” Rarity took a seat in front of the statue beside her friend, pulling her makeup bag out of her backpack and digging through it as she spoke. “Well, it seems to me that it’s less the story and more the characters in it.” Sunset nodded reluctantly. “I suppose it is…” Sunset sighed. “It just feels wrong to like a story because of… that, rather than the story itself.” “Sunset, there’s no wrong reason to enjoy something,” Rarity pulled out a selection of nail polishes and was now deciding over which one she wanted to use. She paused, and shrugged. “Well, most of the time, anyways. Though believe me when I say what you are doing in your case is perfectly fine.” “I just don’t get it. Why am I so ‘in love’ with a fictional character?” “It’s not exactly uncommon. I’ve seen many girls do the same thing, myself included,” Rarity set a nail polish aside and put the rest back into her bag. “Do you think it might be because you’re lonely?” Sunset furrowed her brow. No, it couldn’t be, She thought. ...Could it? She shook her head, No, of course not. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I mean, I have all of you, and we hang out almost every day,” Sunset shrugged. “Even without that, I’m still around plenty of people.” “Not lonely like that, darling,” Rarity giggled as she painted her nails. “I mean lonely in the more… romantic definition.” Sunset’s face flushed a deeper scarlet than her hair. “W-Well I-I mean…” Rarity grinned. “I believe that is enough of an answer for me. You’re yearning for the touch of a big strong gentleman as he comes and sweeps you off your feet,” Rarity held a hand to her forehead as she swooned. Sunset’s blush only grew stronger. Rarity giggled, “I do apologize, darling, I’m only teasing. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. It’s just… well…” Her smile faltered, “These men aren’t real. And, I’m sorry to say, there isn’t anyone at this school I can think of that would fit the bill. I just would hate to see you fall in love with something you might never get.” Sunset shook her head, blush subsiding slowly. “I guess that’s the hard part, isn’t it?” Sunset nervously ran her hands up and down her jeans. “Your dreams are always better than reality.” “I suppose that’s why it’s called the ‘man of your dreams’. He can only exist in your dreams,” Rarity shook her head, remembering a previous tragedy of her’s involving a young man from a private school who was a bit more ‘pompous’ than she’d imagined. “I know the feeling all too well.” Sunset nodded slowly, her excitement from before fading fast. Now that she understood the real reasons behind her obsession, she felt… guilty, like she wasn’t enjoying the story for what it should’ve been enjoyed for. She shook her head. Whatever. It was just a book. She was allowed to dream. Even if that was all it would ever be. “I guess I’ve never really had a real love interest. Not for a long time, at least. I mean, you all know the story of Flash, and that was pretty much my thoughts on love and romance ever since I realized it was a thing,” Sunset looked down in shame and sighed. “Just another tool to use against people.” “Sunset,” Rarity said. “We all know that that part of you is gone. You’ve more than proven that after the battle of the bands and the Friendship Games. Plus, you even forgave us after we were so horrible to you during winter break. If anyone deserves love, it’s you.” “Thanks, Rarity,” Sunset smiled.” Hopefully I’ll find someone who will love me back a little more than ink and paper will.” The fashionista laughed as she closed the lid on her nail polish. “Yes, well, I hope so too. And who knows? Perhaps you’ll find your knight in his shining armor.” "Yeah," Sunset laughed. "Maybe." The sound of a car horn shook both girls out of their reverie. “I believe that is my ride home.” Rarity zipped her bag up and stood. “Are you going to be alright? If you need to talk some more, I can stay a little longer.” “I’ll be fine.” Sunset smiled. “Have a great weekend, Rarity.” Rarity smiled back. “You too, Sunset.” She watched Rarity as she got into the car with her father, the two waving goodbye to Sunset as they drove off. Sunset waved back before they turned off one of the many streets in the surrounding neighborhood. With a sigh, she leaned back against the side of the statue. She went back to staring off into space and thinking again. After a while of this, she reached into her bag and pulled out a large book with her sun cutie-mark emblazoned across the front. She stared at it for a few moments, debating whether or not Twilight deserved the wall of text as she tried to explain her love of a fictional character that her message would no doubt become. The sound of something falling over caught her attention, and she looked down to see the book in question had slipped out of her backpack as the whole thing fell over. “Yo Sunset! Watch out!” Sunset looked up and yelped as she ducked out of the way. Shortly after, a soccer ball bounced off the statue right where her head had been a moment ago. Her eyes fell on where the offending ball rolled through the grass. Looking up, she saw the ball’s owner standing on the lawn, cringing in embarrassment as she grinned sheepishly and waved. Standing behind her, Applejack shook her head in exasperation, and Pinkie was laughing at Rainbow and Sunset’s expense. “H-Hey Sunset.” Sunset shook her head and sighed, grinning. “Hello, Rainbow.” “U-Um… you wanna play?” Sunset scooped up the loose items from her bag and threw them on top of the statue with her backpack. She ran over kicked the ball back at Rainbow, who was more than happy to catch the ball. “Aw yeah!” “Is Sunset playing with us now?” Applejack called from across the field. “Ooo! Now we can do teams!” Pinkie shouted. “Dibs on Sunset!” Rainbow yelled. “Alright, then. Looks like me and Pinkie are on the other team,” Applejack grinned. Rainbow dribbled the ball between her feet, grinning at Sunset. “Alright, we’ve gotta beat Applejack and Pinkie. You got it, Sunset?” “Got it,” Sunset’s face set in a determined grin. She shouted to the two across the field. “Ready when you are!” Applejack and Pinkie each gave a thumbs up, signaling they were ready. “Alright, on the count of three,” Rainbow yelled. “One, two…” “Three!” Pinkie screamed, already running towards the two. And the four started their game, their laughter echoing off the school building. Rainbow was barking plays to Sunset, and screaming at Pinkie when she stole the ball. Applejack would throw a taunt at Rainbow, and she’d respond in kind. Pinkie was giggling nonstop, and Sunset smiled as she was just along for the ride. As they played, however, none of them noticed the glow emanating from a crack beneath the books laying on the pedestal. Shortly after, the small novel began glowing brightly. And with a bright flash, it stopped completely. The portal shimmered and wavered slightly before returning to its normal tranquil calm as if nothing had happened at all. The sounds of battle echoed around James in a deadly symphony as he charged through the streets. Orders were being thrown every way by dozens of people trying desperately to maintain some semblance of order. A stray shot zinged off the wall next to him. “Fuck!” he cussed. In front of him, a section of a building had collapsed forward onto the street. As another round whizzed past his head, he slid on the ground behind the rubble, just barely concealed behind it. Looking back, he saw the rest of his unit half a block behind him dive for cover as an MG42 lit up over him. The rest of the men who’d been ordered ahead with him lay bleeding on the ground, most already dead. He was alone. Before he had any time to dwell on the matter, an explosion shook the earth around him and rubble rained down into the streets. “Artillery! Get inside!” a voice screamed, “Get off the streets!” As more explosions rattled his head, James’s eyes scanned the buildings around him. To his right lay what was more rubble than building. To his left was what seemed to be a completely intact building. More rounds flew overhead, and he steeled himself for what he was about to do. With a burst of motion, James jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the nearby building. He slammed into the door with his shoulder and tried to twist the knob. It was locked. He cursed to himself and stepped back. He raised his leg and let his body fall forward as he kicked the door open. There was a splintering crack as the door swung inward, and he ran inside. He paused as he came in. To his shock, the building looked completely untouched on the inside. Apart from a layer of dust that had built up, most likely from sitting empty for so long. It was as if the war outside never reached this place. The battle outside reared its head back into his world when a nearby explosion rocked the foundation, knocking pictures off the wall as dust up from the furniture. Looking up, he realized that there was nothing between the ceiling of the foyer and himself, and that a well-placed shell could bring the roof down on top of him. James’s head spun around, looking for a more secure part of the building. His eyes fell on a door underneath an archway into the kitchen, and he ran towards it. He threw the door open and found it was opened to a staircase to the basement. As the next volley found its mark on the town, he all but threw himself down the stairs, his boots hitting with a heavy thud as he landed on each step. The explosions outside rocked the upstairs floorboards, but the blasts were now muffled. He thanked the Lord that he had found the basement. Deciding that he was safe for now, James only then allowed himself to relax. With a sigh, he felt some of the tension in his shoulders fall. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the canteen off his belt to try and calm his nerves with a drink of water. He was breathing heavily, more from fear than exertion. Not that the forty pounds of gear he wore was helping, but he’d grown used to it in combat. He absentmindedly reached to twist the canteen’s cap open but found he couldn’t get his hand around the top. He looked down and finally noticed his canteen shaking aggressively, the cap rocking back and forth as it evaded his similarly shaking hand. The stress of combat hit him all at once, and he lost any sense of the self-composure he’d had before. After stealing a glance up the stairs and around the room confirming he was alone for the time being, he fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, breathing heavily again as he held his head in his hands. As the dust was shaken loose from the ceiling by the latest shell, James closed his eyes and took a long drink of water. Once his canteen had been emptied, he slipped it back into its cover and stared blankly at the wall. Everything was numb to him. Even the rattling walls grew distant as he let his thoughts drift. The 141st had been on the line for months at this point, constantly pushing through the French Alps. It was nothing but battle after battle. They had pushed hard, securing one town after another, but it hadn’t come without its fair share of casualties. Since their landing in southern France, he’d lost a lot of friends, but he’d always been able to shake it off after a day of mourning. He had a war to win and he was damned if he was going to let his fallen brothers down. But as he sat there, listening to the world tear itself apart above him, they’d all come back to him and he’d realized he hadn’t quite held up as well as he’d thought as he felt tears streak down his face. Checking once again he was alone, he took his helmet off and let it clamber to the floor as he began crying in earnest. “I’m sorry,” he said to himself, “I’m sorry.” He repeated the two words to himself as he cried for a long time, thinking about every man that would now be laid to rest forever under a white cross, never to see his family again. He thought of the promises they’d made, the laughs they’d shared. From training, to Africa, to Italy, he cried for the times that would never be. From Clark, the kind, God-fearing, bible-thumping man from Florida, to Dove, a handsome young man out of Texas and an aspiring musician. Then there was May, an unassuming lad from the north who could talk to anyone. Even the replacements, Floyd and Miles who’d fit in with the older vets perfectly, and all the others James couldn’t bear to think of. They were all gone. Some had gone to cemeteries around the world, others had gotten shipped off to the hospitals in England where they’d soon get a one-way ticket home, as they were too wounded for the army to have any use for them anymore. Eventually, though, his tears slowed and stopped altogether. He wiped his eyes and shook his head, pushing his darkness aside to deal with at a later date. What’s done is done, he’d always told himself. No use dwelling on the past when the present was right there, shooting at you. So, James stood, and took stock of the room he was in for the first time. It was a small basement, full of things one might expect to be in a basement. There was old furniture, crates of books and other belongings, and a large object with a sheet draped over it. His curiosity drew him towards it, and he pulled the sheet off with a light tug. Underneath was a large, ornate mirror. It was easily six and a half feet tall, and four feet wide at the widest point in the middle before it rounded off at the top. It had a wooden frame, intricately carved with flowing lines and flowering curls. But James’s eyes fell on the man in his reflection. James thought that the man in the mirror bore a striking resemblance to the men in the posters that hung all over the place. He stood up straight, grabbed his strap with his left hand and threw sharp a salute with the right. He grinned. Yep, He thought. Just like the posters. His smile faded as he remembered the times long past when he and his classmates would stand around in the hallways, trying to salute like the men in the posters did. Many of those boys were gone too, he realized. He dropped the salute. James looked at the man in front of him again, but suddenly saw a very different soldier. This one looked nothing like the posters. Instead, the man looked tired. The boy from the poster’s eyes were sharp, and proud with eyes like polished steel. Ready to defend his country at all costs. But all James could see in this soldier’s eyes was fear. The steel had dulled and tarnished, and all the confidence from before was gone, replaced with fear and worry. James tore his eyes away from the mirror and unslung his rifle as he turned to leave. But then he paused. He took another look in the mirror, and gave the soldier one last grin and raised his hand to wave goodbye. “See you around,” he muttered to himself. But the grin quickly faded and he dropped his hand to his rifle as he watched the reflection roll and wave like ripples in a pond. It started in the center and flowed out and before long the whole surface was moving. He stared at the mirror in awe. Slowly, he reached out and touched the glass. His heartbeat skyrocketed as he felt his fingers dip into what should have been solid glass. James ripped his hand out, eyes going wide. Slowly, as if the mirror would lunge at him and attack, he raised his rifle to the mirror and poked it with the barrel. Like with his hand, the end of the barrel disappeared into the surface of the glass. “What in God’s name…” he muttered. Pulling out the barrel, James inspected the part that had gone into the mirror. Nothing. It was a completely normal and functional M1 Garand gas valve, as far as he could tell. He looked down at his hand where his fingers had gone through. Nothing wrong with them, either. He looked at the mirror again and stared at the shimmering reflection. He swallowed nervously, and raised his rifle again. Slowly, he started walking forward. He watched, wide-eyed in wonder, as more and more of his rifle passed through the surface. He paused when it came just before his left hand. He took a deep breath, and resumed his march forward. His left hand sunk into the glass, then the right, then his boot as he lifted his leg and stepped into the mirror. His foot found nothing, and he screamed as he fell completely into the glass. “That totally counted as a goal!” “The hay are you talkin’ about? Pinkie blocked it!” “No, that bag was the goal post!” Rainbow pointed. “No, it wasn’t! That ain’t even one o’ our bags!” “Of course it is!” Sunset shook her head as the two of her friends argued over the legitimacy of Rainbow’s goal. She pulled her phone out from her jacket pocket and checked the time. The bus was due to show up soon. Pocketing her phone, she walked over to where the two were still arguing. “Does too!” Rainbow yelled. “Does not!” Applejack yelled back. “Girls, I hate to interrupt this, but my bus comes by in ten minutes,” she said. “What? What time is it?” Applejack checked her phone. “Ah, horse apples! Ah didn’t realize it was that late! Sorry to cut this short, but Ah’ve gotta get home. See y’all later!” Applejack grabbed her bag from where it was functioning as a goal post and ran off towards the student parking lot. Rainbow checked the time and frowned. “Yeah, I probably gotta get home too. My parents had a movie night planned for tonight, and I’ve missed the last three, so I don’t really wanna miss another” Rainbow grabbed her bag and waved as she ran to catch up with Applejack. “See you later, Sunset! Bye Pinkie!” “Bye Dashie! Bye Sunset!” Pinkie shouted as she too left the schoolyard. “Bye girls!” Sunset shouted back. Once they’d all gone, she walked back over to the statue to get her stuff as well. She stopped as she neared, however. The portal to Equestria seemed to be much more active than usual. Is Twilight coming for a surprise visit or something? She thought to herself. Her question was soon answered as a human form fell out of the portal. Unlike her purple friend, however, there were a lot more browns, greens, and khaki. She gasped as the form hit the ground. A green, steel helmet rolled off its head and towards her feet. She stared at it. Slowly, she reached down and picked it up. She flipped it over and gasped. Sunset immediately recognized the insignia painted on the side. She looked over at the man on the ground and watched as he groaned as he pushed himself off the ground. “Fuck me, what in the name of God was that?” he muttered. Sunset heart was racing. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. What was he doing here? And why did he come out of the portal to Equestria? The man shakily got to his feet and looked around, confusion and fear painted on his face as he took in the world surrounding him. His eyes fell on Sunset, and he visibly jumped. “Oh shit… Oh, uh… sorry,” he stammered. “I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to cuss in front of a lady like you. I’m just a little... “ he glanced around and smiled nervously. “Lost.” Sunset stared at the man. When he heard no response, he visibly grew more uncomfortable and his eyes darted around in fear. He tried his best to smile at her, but it was obviously forced. Then, his eyes lit up as he seemed to realize something. “Oh! Uh… Bon...jour? France-wah voo parlay?” He said hopefully. When this got nothing, he shook his head. “No? Uh… okay, how about, um… Hah-lo? Spreck-en Deutsch...en?” Sunset snapped back to reality. “Oh… uh, sorry. I speak English,” she said at last. The man visibly relaxed. “Oh, good. I was really struggling there.” He grinned weakly. “U-Um… this may seem a bit… odd, but… where am I?” Sunset gripped the helmet in her hands nervously. “W-well... that’s a bit… difficult to explain.” James’s grin grew much more strained. “O-Oh?” “Well… This isn’t your home.” “...Right, I-I’m aware of that... But where on Earth am I?” “W-What I mean is... This isn’t your world. You aren’t on Earth anymore.” James stared, his eyes widened in worry. He looked around again. His eyes passed over the houses, the street, and the school building. There was a distant and loud whooshing noise that grew louder, echoing off the buildings around them. He looked up and squinted, and Sunset followed his gaze. A jet plane was flying over head, most likely headed to the nearby airport. Then there was the sound of an engine and they turned to see a few students pull out of the student parking lot and drive past. He turned back around to Sunset. She had a look of deep sympathy on her face. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” James’s breathing picked up. “I couldn’t have…” He said turned to her. “I couldn’t have gone to a whole different fucking planet! From a mirror! I mean… I don’t know what the fuck that thing is or what it just did but... I was in France! France!” he stopped. During his rant, he’d started walking towards her and was now towering over her as Sunset stared in fear. He stepped back, shaking his head, “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I… I lost my head there. W-Where did you say I am?” “C-Canterlot,” Sunset said in what she hoped was an encouraging tone. “Canterlot…” James repeated softly. “Okay. Look, uh… don’t take this the wrong way, but… that doesn’t really tell me very much about where I am if I’m not on the same planet.” “I-I know. Trust me, I do. But you wouldn’t know where you are even if I told you everything.” Sunset said. To her credit, James recognized the immense sympathy in her voice. But that didn’t give him any answers. “Right, well, Ms….” James frowned. “I’m sorry, I never got your name.” “Oh, right, uh… my name’s Sunset Shimmer.” “...R-Right,” James nodded. “Not Earth, anymore,” he muttered to himself. He extended a shaky hand to her, “Well… uh, Ms. Shimmer, my names James Garrett. It’s a… it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sunset tentatively reached out and shook his hand. “N-Nice to meet you too, James.” The sound of wind chimes blowing aggressively caught the two’s attention. James turned his head to the source of the noise they found it to be the pedestal he’d just come through. The light shimmering and waviness of before was replaced with a torrent on the surface of the marble. “What is that thing doing?” “I don’t know.” Sunset grew worried. “It’s never done this before.” Sunset watched the waves grow more erratic and aggressive. She looked around for anything that might be causing it. Some kind of Equestrian artifact, maybe, or someone who’d found Equestrian magic. Then her eyes locked onto a glowing book on the top of the pedestal. “My journal!” She shouted, running towards the glowing book. “Hey, Sunset, what the hell are you doing? Get away from that thing!” Sunset paid him no mind as she grabbed the glowing book from its spot on the marble and ran back to James. Immediately, the light faded and the shimmering of the marble ceased. The two stared at the marble, expecting something else to happen. When nothing did, James tentatively took a step forward. He reached down and grabbed his rifle, facing the barrel at the marble. As his steps brought him to the face, he pushed his rifle forward, poking experimentally at the marble. To both of their surprise, and subsequent dread, the barrel just clanked off the smooth, now tangible, surface. “What?” He exclaimed. He poked it again, with the same results. “No, hold on. What?” He dropped his rifle, letting it clang to the ground by his side as he ran up to the pedestal. He felt all over the face, desperately searching for a soft spot where his fingers went through. “No. No, no, no, don’t you do this. Don’t do this to me!” His movements grew more erratic. “Come on, it’s gotta be somewhere here. Just turn back on. Please, God, just let it turn back on!” Sunset looked down at her journal to make sure it was okay. But instead of her sun emblem, she was greeted by the image of a steel helmet with a ‘T’ on top of a blue arrowhead painted onto it. Ice formed in her stomach a sobering realization settling in. “James?” Sunset asked. “Goddammit, just give me something!” James whispered. “James.” “Anything! Just turn back on!” “James,” Sunset repeated more firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He froze in place, breathing heavily. “The portal’s gone, James,” Sunset said softly. The man squeezed his eyes shut, letting his head fall forward against the marble of the statue as he let out a shuddering breath. He said nothing, the thundering silence more overpowering than a scream. Eventually, he turned around and sat on the stairs, his shoulders sagging, defeated. It broke Sunset’s heart to see the man like that. She’d read all about what he and his unit did. All they endured. She’d always pictured them as these supermen that were impossibly brave. And when she finally got her wish to meet one, she had to be the one to tell him that everything he knew and loved was gone. Possibly for good. She sat on the steps next to him and did the only thing she could think to do. Leaning over, she put an arm around the man and leaned against him in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “I’m so sorry, James.” He said nothing in response. He just cried softly as he cradled his head in his hands. “I am so sorry.”