//------------------------------// // Chapter Thirteen // Story: The Book of Sunlight // by elPossenreisser //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle had returned to the metaphorical drawing board. It was a menial task to keep running simulations. Twilight missed the hands-on factor; she would rather have whipped out her soldering iron and mashed up some device, or at least developed an interesting algorithm to solve her problem. At least she had already—it seemed like an eternity ago, really—figured out how to mimic a small part of the energy radiating from the portal back when it was still working. But now that she knew that that energy was just the residue resulting from opening and sustaining an interdimensional portal, it was also clear that that was just the beginning. So, with the data she had used to build her little emitter back then, and with the isolated readings from each time the princess had passed through, she at least had some leads on where to go next. Unfortunately, in order to recreate the opening herself, she needed the correct eigenmatrix of the dimension she was going to connect to, in order to model her Dho-Nha equation. Else—and the books and internet message boards dealing with thaumaturgical micro-electronics had been very clear about that—there was no telling where her portal would open to. And what kinds of visitors she would attract. In the best case she would simply open a rift into the interdimensional void, and any passer-through would for all intents and purposes cease to exist when her function’s zeroes were off. So she needed the put the correct eigenmatrix into her formula, and that meant she needed to run every candidate through a thorough simulation in order to be sure the results matched the energy readings she had picked up. Which, on her little PC, took forever, give or take a few hours. In the meantime she kept her brain busy with the other parts of the function. The basic principle was to transform energy through the eigenmatrix in order to create a connection—the more energy, the stronger the connection. Electricity could be used for that, but that meant the input needed to be transformed to harmonize with the eigenmatrix. Based on her preliminary calculations she would need a pretty strong transformation unit to get 110 Volts harmonized with any of the hypothetical matrices for her equally hypothetical portal she had found so far. Because that’s what Twilight was doing—she was trying to figure out a way to recreate the portal. It was crazy. It was definitely out of her league—assuming it was even possible in the first place. Those internet message boards weren’t exactly inhabited by the most sane-sounding individuals, and it required a significant amount of cognitive dissonance for Twilight to ignore all the ways in which those weird theories contradicted conventional science. It helped that conventional science was also contradicted by the mere existence of pony princesses. And it was good that all that effort made it virtually impossible for her to think about anything else. For instance what Sunset Shimmer was going through, and that Twilight had caused it. Nope. She wasn’t thinking about that at all, if she could avoid it. She wasn’t thinking about the not unlikely possibility of her failing with her endeavor either. Her biggest concern was the time everything took. Not only because of the extended suffering for Sunset Shimmer that meant—she wasn’t thinking about that after all—but also because she worried about her ability to keep unwelcome guilty thoughts at bay for a prolonged period of time. Thoughts and the growing resentment against her slow PC. If only she had the powerful server of Crystal Prep’s science department… She bolted upright and tore a long line across the formula she had just been working on. If only she had the powerful server of Crystal Prep’s science department! The one whose security configuration she had helped set up and maintain when the machine had just been installed. She couldn’t. Could she? They had probably revoked all her rights. Someone had probably taken over. Someone had probably also installed the latest patch that would close a certain remote access vulnerability that Twilight had idly tried to reproduce just before the portal project took off. Probably. “I guess taking a look won’t hurt,” she mumbled to herself. “I won’t get in, and at least then I can stop thinking about it. Right, Spike?” As always, Spike completely agreed with her assessment. She fired up her VPN and connected to the Crystal Prep server—she knew the address and credentials by heart after all the work she had done on that machine. Fully expecting to be rejected she entered her credentials. She’d just try that exploit next. Then the server logged her in. “Are you kidding me?” she groaned. “That’s a security hazard!” The server lay before her, open and defenseless. She brought up a monitoring tool and found that the CPUs weren’t significantly in use. Hardly a surprise late on a Sunday night. “Just one, to figure if…” Twilight trailed off as she copied a few programs from her machine to the server. Then she simply started the simulation that was still running in the background on her PC. Ding. The calculation almost finished immediately. “That should speed things up a bit.” She downloaded the result for later use before she copied the next simulation candidates onto the server and ran them, one by one. Each one took no more than a few seconds to complete. Before she logged off for the night she used her server access to create another user account with an inconspicuous name, just in case they did finally decide to cancel her account. There would be more runs to come, she was certain. She yawned. It was only half past eleven, and she knew she wasn’t sleepy enough yet—if she went to bed now her thoughts would just run circles around the whole Sunset Shimmer situation and her, Twilight, causing it. And the ruling was that she wasn’t thinking about that, nope. Luckily she now had two dozen simulation results that she could busy herself with, until she passed out. It was safer this way. Once this was over she would practice some meditation to keep her thoughts in check, but right now she just didn’t have the time. Right now mere physical exhaustion would have to be enough. *** With the raw processing power of Crystal Prep’s server it only took her four more nights to find a matrix that produced good results—good enough in fact that she considered it very unlikely that her further experiments would render Canterlot City a playground of monsters from other dimensions trying to take over the world. From there it was just another night of figuring the power feed transformation. The next step was to come up with a circuit board setup to represent her eigenmatrix function and related transformations. Again, the questionable internet message boards helped her and led her to a free conversion tool that would provide her with a diagram based on her formula. The weekend was spent with tinkering and soldering, and by Sunday afternoon Twilight had a small, low-wattage prototype. She also had to fight back occasional hallucinations from the ongoing sleep deprivation, and allowed herself an unscheduled nap of an hour before she went to her first test run. The hallucinations were still mostly preferable to the memories of the vomiting and crying Sunset Shimmer, and the knowledge that she was responsible. Usually Twilight preferred not to use the wall sockets to power her experiments; she had done that very early into her engineering career and had blown all the fuses, leaving her parents irritated and her brother downright irate because she had shut down his GameStation just during a difficult boss fight he was apparently about to win. Ever since then she preferred batteries. It also minimized the electrocution hazard. But for this kind of work she required all the power she could get. If her calculations were right, her prototype diagram would just barely be functional with the wall socket power. If that resulted in a blown fuse, she’d have to apologize to her parents. But how else would she figure it out? As was her habit, she meticulously arranged her tools—the pocket energy meter, the small emitter, a screwdriver, pincers, the fire extinguisher her parents had bought her for her twelfth birthday, and a fixing pin. She positioned the circuit board on an antistatic mat and connected it to the main power switch. So far the fuses held; always a good sign. Then she flipped the switch. The circuit board emitted a faint humming. The control diodes lit up. And in the center, right between the capacitators, a tiny purple dot appeared—according to her calculations exactly zero point seven three millimeters in diameter. “It’s working!” she mumbled to herself. “Now focus.” First she grabbed the energy meter and brought it as close to her little circuit board as she could. It picked up a reading. It seemed similar enough to what the original portal had emitted, but to be certain she would have to analyze the results. Later. Then she picked up the pin by the plastic head and carefully brought the tip to the tiny ball of strange energy. Then she poked it—and almost dropped the pin as she hit a solid surface. “As expected.” At that point the fuse finally did blow, and as her tiny little portal vanished she heard a surprised yell from downstairs. “Sorry, dad!” Now all she needed was an energy source. And a way to convince Sunset Shimmer. *** Sunset hadn’t seen the other Twilight since that morning she had shown up at her door. If she was still fulfilling her promise to stay away from Sunset, she was very successful at it. Her friends had hardly seen her either. All the more surprised she was to suddenly see the other Twilight approach their table in the cafeteria during lunch break, more than a week after the infamous hangover Saturday. As she came closer, Sunset realized that she wasn’t just aiming for their table—she was coming straight for her personally. At least she had the decency to look really uncomfortable. “Hello, Sunset Shimmer,” the wrong Twilight greeted her. Her voice was only slightly shaky, but the way she bit her lip gave her nervousness away. Sunset couldn’t resist. “Gee, I thought I’d told you I wasn’t gonna punch you anymore.” “You did, it’s just…” She shifted her tabled in her hands. “Can I maybe talk to you? After you’re done with lunch?” “Or you could just spill it right now and be done with it,” Sunset suggested. She wasn’t really curious about whatever it was the other Twilight had in mind. Last time she hadn’t had any real news either. “It… it requires some additional explanation, and so I thought maybe after…” “Don’t be silly,” Sunset said. “Sit down and eat with us, and then you can say your piece or whatever. Give me the short version.” Twilight thought about it for a moment. “There’s something I need to write to your girlfriend,” she said. Sunset almost spat out the salad she was just chewing. “Yeah, right. I showed you how much space there is left for me to write her, right? It’s strictly for when she’s found a way to get the portal up and running again.” “That’s… what I’m working on, and I think I need her help.” Sunset narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the queasy feeling she suddenly had in her stomach. “You better explain this right now, Sparkle,” she hissed. “Sit.” The other girls, who had been silently watching their exchange, shuffled their chairs to make room. Twilight put down her tablet, pulled up a chair from a neighboring table, and sat down. She took a breath to start explaining, but before she could even start her stomach gave an audible growl. Sunset snorted. “Yeah, fine, eat first, if you must.” The others giggled. Twilight shot her an awkward look before she started nibbling on her sloppy joe. Sunset watched impatiently and tried not to succumb to her own curiosity. But what in Tartarus could she have to write to Twilight? And what did she mean, working on the portal? It couldn’t be. Could it? Don’t get your hopes up. But can’t she eat any faster? Maybe the other Twilight somehow picked up on Sunset’s impatience, or maybe she was really hungry, but she actually managed to finish her pretty disgusting-looking sandwich before the heat death of the universe. As soon as she had swallowed the last bit, Sunset asked again, “So what is this all about?” Twilight took the time to wipe her mouth before she spoke. She pulled out her phone and placed it on the table before bringing up a shaky video of some sort of circuit board with a strange purple glowing… thing… in the center. “I analyzed the energy readings I had stored from when the portal was being used some more, and I think I was able to isolate the fundamental function to render the energy that powered the portal. This is my first prototype.” “And what’s that in non-genius?” Applejack asked. “You built a portal?” Sunset asked. “You built another portal?” “Well…” Twilight shuffled on her chair uncomfortably. “It’s a prototype. I was able to create a portal, yes… but for now it’s disjointed. And tiny.” “What do you mean, disjointed?” Sunset asked “Well, you see…” Twilight stammered. Then she took a breath, trying to calm herself. “To make a real connection, there needs to be something to connect to. Like an endpoint for a web service, you know?” She looked around, hoping for one of the girls to understand her. “Not really,” Sunset said when it became clear that Twilight wasn’t going to continue. “Oh. Well. Anyway. There has to be something on the other side to actually make a connection. To actually open a passage to the other side. Where your girlfriend came from.” “Equestria.” “Yes. That.” Twilight shot Sunset a nervous glance, but immediately looked away again. “Someone needs to set up a portal like this one over there.” She tapped her phone’s screen. “From what you have told me, your girlf—the other Twilight is capable of doing this, that is if I send her the formula. And that’s why I need to use your book.” She fumbled a small piece of paper from her pocket and placed it next to the phone. It was covered in tiny script—the formula. By Sunset’s estimation it would cover about two thirds of the remaining space in the magic book’s cover—essentially cutting her off from Twilight except for maybe two or three more messages back and forth. Nope. Sunset looked at the formula. It was so tiny, it was barely legible. There was no room to shrink it any further if Twilight was supposed to read it. Nope. “You said it was tiny,” Rainbow Dash said. “How tiny is it? Like, can a person even fit through?” Twilight hung her head and shook it. “Not through this prototype.” She took another deep breath, preparing for what she said next. “It’s zero point seven three millimeters in diameter.” Sunset shook her head. Was this girl trying to make fun of her? “Great job there, Sparkle,” she said and slowly clapped. “You made a portal that isn’t connected to anything, and it won’t even fit a toothpick.” “It’s a prototype,” the wrong Twilight defended herself. “It’s a proof of concept. Now that I understand how everything comes together I can build a bigger one, one that’s big enough for… one that’s big enough.” Sunset tried to remain adamant, but she felt her resolve crumble. Maybe there was hope to reunite her and Twilight. Soon. What if this nerd actually could fix… everything? She was scared of getting her hopes up and being disappointed. It would be crushing. But still, what if—? “I wanna see it,” she said, forcing herself to remain calm. “I wanna see your tiny disjointed portal thingamabob.” “Oh.” The other Twilight looked surprised. “I… sure! You… you can come over to my place after school, if you want?” “Cool.” “Can we come too?” Rainbow Dash burst out. “I wanna see this thing too. It sounds pretty awesome!” The other girls mumbled excited agreement. “Um, sure… it’s going to be a bit crowded, but… sure,” the other Twilight mumbled. “I can show you all the prototype. It’s tiny though, and really not that impressive, and…” “It’s alright, dear,” Rarity said. “We understand what a prototype is.” “It’s still hella impressive,” Applejack said. Sunset tried not to agree with her. *** It was somewhat cramped in the other Twilight’s apartment. Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack found room sitting on her bed, while Rarity sat down on the desk chair, and Rainbow Dash remained standing. Sunset and Twilight knelt on the floor, looking down on the small circuit board. Now that she saw it in reality she could put the size of the tiny purple ball into perspective. Not even a toothpick. If it worked at all. After all she only had the wrong Twilight’s word on it. “Alright, show me.” The other Twilight cast her a nervous glance and flicked the switch. There was a faint humming, and then the tiny purple ball of energy appeared in the center of the circuit board. Zero point seven something millimeters, Sunset thought. Then, after only a few seconds, the other Twilight switched the device off again. The tiny portal vanished. “The fuse,” she explained sheepishly. Sunset pinched the bridge of her nose. It’s a prototype, she told herself. It’s just a prototype. “Okay, Sparkle. So just assuming for a second that there is a way to build a life-sized version of it—“ “There is,” the wrong Twilight chimed in. Sunset sighed in a heroic effort to remain calm. Just a prototype. “Assuming there is,” she continued, putting extra emphasize on the first word, “how do I know it actually is a portal to Equestria? For all I know it could be some smoke and mirror stage magic.” She knew she was being unfair. She knew she was trying to provoke the other Twilight, and she knew the other girl was only trying to help. “It is not!” Twilight said. “I—I have thoroughly calculated all of it.” “Let me see it,” Sunset said. “O—okay, sure!” The wrong Twilight pointed at the computer. “It’s all in the cloud.” Rarity hurried to get up from the desk chair, and Twilight sat down and started clicking icons on the computer’s desktop. “Here, that’s everything.” She stood up too and gestured at Sunset to take a seat. Sunset obliged and studied the open folder on the screen. It contained several dozen files. If that was all related to the portal research the other Twilight had done, it must have been exhaustive. Just don’t get your hopes up. Then again, what would Twilight have done in such a case? Probably dedicated a new wing in her library to all her material. “May I?” The wrong Twilight leaned in and took hold of the mouse, almost brushing against Sunset. She clicked a few files in rapid succession in order to open them, the last one being a document of several dozen pages. “Here, that is the main formula, and the eigenmatrix, and my notes on the various steps to get to it. It’s… kind of like my research diary, so it’s quite messy. Sorry.” Twilight looked at Sunset apologetically and only now seemed to realize how close she was. Blushing, she retreated to a safe distance. “If you have any questions of if I should explain anything to you...” “Don’t think you’re smarter than me, Sparkle,” Sunset mumbled. The other girl flinched as if she had been slapped. “So you’ve figured it all out by yourself, and if it pans out you’ll get your pat on the head, don’t worry. But magic happens to be my area of expertise, and that’s what we’re dealing with here. So just let me read, okay?” The other girl just nodded, too stunned to reply. Rarity took a sharp breath, but didn’t say anything. Sunset read. The others quietly chatted in the background, but they didn’t leave. It was a lot of text. The other Twilight had thoroughly documented each step she had taken, each assumption and her reasoning behind it, and, much to Sunset’s chagrin, a lot of it looked valid. Try as she might, she couldn’t find any obvious errors in the wrong Twilight’s calculations. Then again, she told herself, she didn’t really want to find errors. Because if that girl was correct, it meant— Don’t get your hopes up. “Alright, Sparkle,” she said after finishing the document. “It looks solid.” The other girl beamed at the praise, and Sunset resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “So we can send the formula to your girlfriend so that she can start setting up a portal on her end?” Sunset shook her head. “No. Not gonna happen.” “But—“ Twilight started. Sunset interrupted her “Hold your horses, Sparkle. This right there,” she pointed at the circuit board lying on the floor, “is useless. It needs to fit a full-sized human.” Twilight took breath and made to speak, but Sunset raised a hand to stop her. She pointed at the transformation part of the formula on the screen. “The way this here scales you’ll need an insane amount of power.” “We… I’m sure we can find a way…” Twilight stammered. “Yeah, well, I’d estimate you’d need a flash of lightning or two, if it’s enough.” The other girl’s face fell. “It’s never gonna work,” Sunset said softly. “So no, you’re not sending Twi this formula. It’d be pointless, and it would…” She sighed. “I can’t, okay?” “But...” Twilight said, “maybe we can find another energy source! If we could gain control of one of those recent outbursts… when you were fighting those things… that energy is different. We wouldn’t have to transform it, and so we wouldn’t have the scaling issues…” Sunset huffed. “Yeah, that would be really good, now, wouldn’t it,” she said. “The only problem is that it won’t work. There is simply no magic in this world that we can just call on when we need it. And I kinda don’t think the Dazzlings will be up for another round of Battle of the Bands just to help us out.” “I wish you’d stop calling it that,” the wrong Twilight mumbled. “Magic.” “It is what it is,” Sunset rebutted. “Deal with it.” “Wait a second, that’s it!” Rainbow suddenly cried out. “We could pony up!” “Huh?” “Twilight said—Princess Twilight, that is—that when we pony up we use magic from your world, right, Sunset?” Sunset’s mind raced. Of course, Rainbow Dash was right. She didn’t know why, but when the Rainbooms played, they were able to tap into Equestrian magic even in this world. If they could somehow use that magic— “Lemme check that.” She frantically scrolled through the document that was still open. The wrong Twilight moved over and leaned on the desk in order to look as well, again getting uncomfortably close. But if this actually worked, there were more important things right now. Just don’t get your hopes up. If they could omit the part of the circuitry that was needed for the energy conversion, the whole setup would be much more efficient. It might actually work. But she hesitated. She still didn’t exactly want to let the other Twilight use up the precious little space that remained in the book. It could still all go horribly wrong; especially when she had to rely on that girl, truth be told. She turned to look at the wrong Twilight. I can’t believe that she of all people is my best shot at this. At least her math looked solid, and if they could use the Rainboom’s access to pony magic, and if the stars aligned and if she got lucky for once— What if it still didn’t work? Then she’d still be stuck in the human world, and it would be almost impossible for Twilight to communicate with her when she found a solution. Could she take that risk? “Um, Sunset Shimmer?” the other Twilight asked. “Just give me a moment, okay?” Sunset snapped and glared at her. “It’s not an easy decision, you know? It’s still not sure that it’ll ever work, or that we can make a version that’s big enough, or anything… I’m just having a hard time trusting… this.” Twilight returned her look. She had understood perfectly well what—whom—Sunset was referring to. “Then—“ But it was her best shot, wasn’t it? What if a better shot never came? Her stomach did a slow somersault. “We’re doing it,” she said. She suddenly felt nauseous. Probably the excitement. Somewhere in the background the other girls cheered. Next to her, the other Twilight nodded approvingly. What had she just agreed to? “If,” she said, “if we can get all the calculations for the life-sized version figured out to the last detail.” “We?” Twilight sounded surprised. “Yes, we,” Sunset said. “We’re going to figure this out together, and if, if it all pans out, then we’re going to write Twilight.” “Awesome!” Rainbow cheered. “That rocks!” “Yeah,” Sunset agreed, trying to keep the shivers from her voice. *** Since it had gotten late, the girls left Twilight Sparkle. Most of the girls headed straight home, but Fluttershy suggested a late cup of tea at Sugarcube Corner, Sunset gladly agreed; she was anyway too nervous to sleep. Rarity quickly decided to join them. As they sat and placed their order, Sunset realized how spent she was after this day, after learning of the other Twilight’s project. And after dealing with the renewed hope that maybe there was a way to reopen the portal. Her brain felt like an overcooked squash. But as soon as the waitress had left them, Fluttershy fixed her with a stern look—as stern as she was capable of, anyway—and said, “Sunset, I need to talk to you about something.” Sunset gave her a tired smile. “Sure, Fluttershy, what is it?” She didn’t miss the quick look Fluttershy shot Rarity, as if looking for reassurance. Then, after taking a deep breath, she said, “Can you stop being mean, please?” The accusation at least woke her up. Sunset bolted upright. “What? When was I—Fluttershy, whatever it was I did, I’m sorry!” She was aghast at the mere thought that she could have been mean to Fluttershy. Fluttershy shook her head. “Not to me, Sunset. To Twilight.” Sunset stared at her, dumbfounded. Stop being mean to… the other Twilight? After all she had agreed to help her figure out the modified formula. She was talking to her like she was to her friends. No more punches; that had to count for something. Fluttershy seemed to realize that she wasn’t getting a reply and continued, “She has been working really hard to help you, you know. She’s really trying hard to make up for the accident. I understand that you’re still hurting about Twilight, and I guess it’s alright to still be angry…” “I’m not angry!” Sunset said a bit more forcefully. Realizing that she was about to thump the table, she stopped herself. “At least not much.” Rarity gently put a hand on her forearm. “I think what Fluttershy is saying that nobody would blame if you were still angry, not after all that has happened.” “Of course not,” Fluttershy agreed. “It’s just… if you’re still angry, then maybe it’d be better not to spend this much time with her. Or at least… don’t act mean, if that’s okay for you? She looked really sad a few times today, and you shouldn’t make her sad, you know? I don’t think she’s very good at handling that.” Rarity chimed in, “It seems like she is really working hard to make up for that dreadful accident, you know? It’s really important for her to help you, I think. Maybe you want to take this into account if you should consider forgiving her.” “I’m not considering… anything of that sort,” Sunset mumbled. The other Twilight was probably just feeling guilty, and rightfully so. And what concern of hers was it if the girl was sad, after everything? Besides, she hadn’t been that mean. A bit unfriendly maybe, but then again the other Twilight wasn’t her friend, so that was par for the course. Wasn’t it? “Well, maybe that is too much to ask for,” Rarity agreed. “But think about what Fluttershy suggested, will you?” “If you’re not doing it for us, then maybe… I mean…” Fluttershy stammered. “It’s quite frightening to see you act so mean. You…” Sunset interrupted her. “I’m acting like I used to be, right?” she asked softly. She shook her head. “It’s not like I want to be mean to her, you know. It’s just… I guess yeah, I’m still angry at her. And she kinda reminds me… so I guess being snarky just comes naturally when I’m around her. Probably because I’d rather not see her at all.” She trailed off, thinking about another girl who had been at fault. And the certain somebody who’d offered her a hand. And a friendly smile. “We didn’t mean to attack you, it’s just—“ Fluttershy said. “I understand,” Sunset interrupted her softly. “Actually, thanks for bringing it up. I… I can’t promise anything. As far as the other Twilight is concerned it seems like all bets are off. I’ll think about it. I might give it a try.” “Maybe you could start by not referring to her as the other Twilight,” Fluttershy suggested. “I’ll think about it.” Even though that is who she is. At the end of the day, Sunset told herself as the waitress brought the tea, it didn’t matter that she disliked the other Twilight. What mattered was getting the portal up and running, and if for that she needed to play nice, then she could do that. *** I’ll meet you outside CHS after school. SS. *** Sunset rubbed her eyes. Only now she remembered the glass of ice tea that Twilight’s mother had brought them. She had completely forgotten the drink. The ice cubes had molten. She half emptied the glass in one sip. How long had they been working? She checked. The clock on Twilight’s PC showed a quarter to eleven. “Oh,” Twilight said, also realizing the time. “It’s… late.” “You tired already?” Sunset teased. If she was being honest to herself, she was starting to feel a bit tired herself. But how could she resist? “My mom is probably going to send me to bed soon,” Twilight said. “School night and all.” Sunset chuckled. “Alright, I guess we can call it and continue tomorrow.” Twilight nodded vigorously. “Yes, let’s do that!” She was really trying pretty hard, Sunset thought. She emptied the glass of ice tea and got up. “See you after school then. I’ll see myself out.” Just as she opened the door a thought struck her. “Oh and Sparkle, if you do manage some breakthrough on that last bit after you’ve quote unquote gone to bed, send me a text.” Twilight grinned sheepishly. “I will.” *** “That’s six,” Twilight calmly stated and put down her pencil. “Do you want to go over it once more?” Sunset studied Twilight’s face. She wasn’t being snarky; she was trying her hardest to be helpful. She would totally go over their formula for a seventh time if Sunset requested it. She was really trying very hard. She was also being a complete doormat. Sunset sighed. There was no need to go over their calculations once more. It had been six times, and the math was solid as a rock. They had done it. Now all they needed was to actually build it, power it, get word to Twilight in Equestria… a walk in the park. “I don’t think we have to,” she finally said. Twilight jumped up and cheered, and for a moment Sunset feared she would hug her, but fortunately she resorted to pumping her fist in the air. “Woohoo!” Sunset waited until Twilight had collected herself again and sat down again before she opened her bag and pulled out the enchanted book. Twilight gaped in surprise, and Sunset couldn’t help but tease her for it. “You look like you’ve never seen an enchanted book before.” “You really mean it,” Twilight whispered. “Well, sure.” Sunset sighed. “I mean, if this isn’t enough to convince me then nothing ever will. This is currently my best shot at getting Twi back.” And she had the strong impression that if she didn’t go through with sending Twilight the formula right away, she might catch a serious case of second thoughts. She put the book on Twilight’s desk and gently opened the first page. “Let’s do this.” She shoved the book over to Twilight. “You want me to write her?” Twilight asked. “Are you sure?” No, Sunset thought, it was really the last thing she wanted. “Your handwriting is smaller than mine,” she said. “Just write it on normal paper once, as practice, okay?” Twilight did as she was asked, and Sunset had some time to think about the effects of a lifetime of practice in using those hands. It had been hard work for her to learn how to write efficiently and legibly, but there was no way she would be able to produce such delicate letters and numbers as Twilight was. Once Twilight was done Sunset carefully compared the practice run to their formula in the computer and couldn’t find a difference. It was now or never, and never didn’t count. Not trusting her voice, she just nodded and pushed the paper back to Twilight, who picked up her pen again and gingerly started writing in the enchanted book. It didn’t take long for her to finish. They had decided to forgo any explanation, trusting in Twilight’s ability to figure out what the meaning of that formula was. What Sunset hadn’t anticipated though was how tough it would be to wait for the reply. Smart as she might be, Twilight might still need some time to get through the formula. It was only eight. “And now we wait?” Twilight asked. “Now we wait.” She fought the urge to stand up and start pacing around Twilight’s room. “You don’t happen to have Portal Kombat on that thing, do you?” “Actually, my brother got it for my birthday, but I’ve hardly had time to play it.” “I know I promised I wouldn’t punch you again, but how would you like to get your butt kicked?” Sunset asked with a fiendish grin. *** Got it. I’ll msg when rdy. *** Sunset dropped the controller. Just like last time reading the words that Twilight had just penned in a different world was almost too much to bear. She needed to be alone and read and re-read those words for a few dozen times. And imagine Twilight writing them. As she got up Twilight touched her arm, and Sunset spun around to face her. Twilight flinched, but maintained contact. “Sunset,” she said gently, “I… well, I have no idea what you’re feeling, but… will you be okay?” Sunset gave her a weak smile. “I’ll be okay once I’m with her again.” Twilight nodded. “I guess that means we start building a portal, right?” “Yeah,” Sunset agreed. “Although I don’t know how much use I’m gonna be. Electronics isn’t really my strong suit.” “That’s okay… I can show you.” “Cool,” Sunset said uneasily. Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “And if… you know… you’re not feeling well or something I can just continue on my own.” Why are you doing this? Sunset almost asked, but bit her tongue just in time. “Cool,” she repeated instead. “I guess I’m going now… I’m…” She trailed off. “I understand,” Twilight said, also getting up. Again it looked as if she was about to hug Sunset, and Sunset was glad that she decided not to. She picked up the book with Twilight’s latest message and stuffed it in her backpack. “Take care,” Twilight said as Sunset put on her jumper and then her jacket. Winter was in full swing, and the nights were freezing. “Night, Sparkle.” *** Rdy. Msg me when. It made Sunset unreasonably proud that her Twilight had been finished first, but she also realized that it didn’t do her any good. She considered going over to Twilight’s to lend a hand, but if she was being honest with herself she had to admit that she was probably more of a liability since Twilight had to explain and supervise almost everything she did. So she just texted her, Twilight says she is ready. Just when the message was sent she realized the effect this message might have on Twilight, and she sent her another, No need for all-nighters, understood? Don’t make me come over and put you to bed! Twilight replied with a blushing emoji. The girl was way too easy to read sometimes. But once more Sunset faced the question of how to deal with her growing anxiety and impatience. It was still early enough, so she sent out another text. Hey Flash, care for another PK lesson? I’ll bring snacks. *** “What the hay,” Sunset murmured as she grabbed her phone and saw what time it was. She answered the call. “What the hay, Sparkle, it’s three in the morning.” “It’s finished,” Twilight just said. Sunset realized that this was a moment to celebrate, but her sleepy brain was slow on the uptake, and so instead of congratulating Twilight she just groaned, “What did we say about all-nighters?” A sheepish giggle. “I was this close to finishing and wouldn’t just stop, being so close… and I didn’t think it’d take that much time.” Finally Sunset remembered what Fluttershy and Rarity had told her, and that she was going to try and be a bit nicer to her. Especially when she had just finished the device that would hopefully reopen the portal. “Hey, good work, Sparkle. Well done.” She could almost see the gleeful smile on the other girl’s face. “So, what’s next?” Sunset counted off the next steps. “I’ll talk to the others, set up a date. Then I’ll write Twilight to be ready. And then—“ She swallowed. “And then we do it.” “And then we do it,” Twilight repeated. “Get some sleep, Sparkle,” Sunset said. “Good work.” “Good night, Sunset.” *** Sat. 2pm ❤ Sunset didn’t dare more than draw a little heart. There just wasn’t a lot of room left. Saturday though. *** “I declared a decoration committee emergency,” Pinkie Pie explained as she unlocked the schools front door. “We are now a decorating task force in charge of fixing the New Year’s decorations.” “Why would they need fixing though?” Applejack asked. “No idea,” Pinkie chirped. “It got us the key, so who cares,” Rainbow said. Sunset couldn’t agree more. As long as they got access to the instruments and could pony up, she didn’t care how it was accomplished. She had hardly slept the past few days, ever since Twilight had reported that she was done. How could she have? They were going to use her device. If all went well, she’d be reunited with Twilight tonight! “Sunset, would you help me carry the portal device?” Twilight asked, tearing her from her thoughts. Sunset nodded and followed her to Applejack’s pickup. Since Twilight was still not allowed to drive her parents’ cars, Applejack had picked her and the device up. Considering Twilight’s track record it was probably better to entrust the device to a more capable, dependable driver, Sunset thought. No taking chances. Not this close to completion. Twilight lifted the bag with peripherals from the pickup’s bed and handed it to Sunset before she grabbed the backpack containing the actual device. Sunset had seen it before; she hadn’t been able to contain her curiosity and had dropped by at Twilight’s one night. Twilight had also challenged her for another round of Portal Kombat, which had ended predictably. The device was basically a big circuit board with a bunch of protruding capacitators and resistors, safely tucked into a frame of antistatic foam. It looked decidedly haphazard, and Twilight had apologized profusely for not managing to add a decent hull. Sunset had told her that it only needed to work, not win a beauty pageant. She followed Twilight back to the school. The others were still waiting for them outside the door. “Need a hand with that?” Applejack offered. Sunset moved her shoulders, but the backpack she was carrying in addition to the bag wasn’t that heavy. Even though it contained everything she was going to bring to Equestria. At the end of the day she had found that there weren’t a lot of items in this world that she truly cared about. She wouldn’t need clothes, and she definitely wouldn’t need her laptop. So she had packed what remained of her gold, her diary, and the Gusty the Great volume Twilight had gifted her. Clothes, schoolbooks, phone, kitchenware—she’d need none of that. The enchanted book would stay in the human world—there wasn’t much space left in it, but in an emergency it would suffice. “I’m good, thanks,” she replied as she hurried to catch up. It was a bit harder than she had anticipated not getting all nostalgic while walking through the school corridors for probably the last time. If she was being honest with herself, most of her time at CHS she had been rather miserable, even though she had usually taken it out on the other students. Only after her final move, the Fall Formal, had she had actual friends, and good times. She didn’t want to think about saying goodbye to her friends. Even though it meant being reunited with Twilight. They reached the band room, and Twilight and Sunset put down their loads next to the piano while the other girls got the instruments from the cabinets—except Pinkie Pie who sat down and started them off with a quick drum solo. She helped Twilight to carefully unpack the portal device and set up the peripherals—an AC adapter for auxiliary power, Twilight’s little energy meter, and her emitter gadget. “What’s that for?” Sunset asked and pointed at the emitter. “I thought maybe we could at least check the reception with the emitter or something,” Twilight mumbled, playing with a strand of her hair. “Yeah, good call,” Sunset said. “Rainbow, can you get us a cable from the amp?” “You’re powering this thing with music? Awesome!” Rainbow commented as she fetched an audio cable from a cabinet and proceeded to connect it to the amp. “We weren’t exactly sure how to receive the energy you will be projecting when you are playing. But since the music seems to be an integral part of the process, we figured it might help amplify the effect if we phased the music in as well,” Twilight explained while she connected the cable Rainbow brought. Sunset realized that Twilight was getting in the zone; she often sounded way more confident whenever she spoke of the technical details of her project. Twilight pulled a twisted multicore cable from the bag and connected it to a roughly cut opening in the smooth hull of her energy meter. “This is what will receive the actual energy,” she explained. “I didn’t have time to do this port properly, but it will do. This is what I used to read the energy emissions from the portal, so it’s already configured for… what’s about to come.” Apparently Twilight still had trouble thinking of what was about to happen as magic. “I vamped up its power throughput though,” Twilight continued and pointed at another rough hole in the energy meter’s hull where a bit of electronics was protruding. “Bigger fuse, extra capacitators. It should in theory be strong enough for our purposes.” She connected the twisted cable with the main circuit board. “It will work,” Sunset said, wondering whom she was trying to reassure—Twilight or herself. “Six times, remember?” Twilight smiled at her. “Yes. You’re right. Of course it will work.” “How exciting,” Fluttershy said. “I knooooow!” Pinkie Pie squealed. “I have all my party cannons loaded for when it works!” Twilight caught Sunset’s gaze and then looked down at the auxiliary power switch. Sunset nodded. Twilight flicked the switch, and a single purple control LED lit up on the circuit board. “Try the emitter,” Sunset said, her voice suddenly hoarse. Twilight picked up the gadget and flicked another switch before pointing it at the energy meter. The circuit board began emitting a soft hum, and another LED, the first in a row of five green ones, started lighting up. Twilight squealed and put the emitter down again. “It’s working! It’s receiving!” “Good work, Sparkle,” Sunset said. She got up and joined the other girls, taking her position behind the microphone. “Alright. Let’s start off with something easy to warm up, what do you say?” She realized that her voice was shaky. “You okay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. Sunset took a deep breath. She was almost sick with excitement and wondered how she was even going to sing. She gave Applejack a determined nod. “Let’s do this!” “Awesome as I wanna be!” Rainbow shouted. “Pinkie, count us off!” “A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four!” *** As the music blasted from the amp—an upbeat punk song she had heard them play before—Twilight Sparkle kept a close eye on her energy meter. It would have been so nice to add another USB port to the setup and maybe hack up a diagnostics app for real-time data readouts on her phone, but she had assumed that Sunset Shimmer wasn’t going to approve of spending additional time on something that wasn’t strictly required for the portal to work. At least she had the LEDs. For the time being they all remained dark, but the girls had still not ‘ponied up’, as Rainbow Dash called it. She still had trouble accepting what the girls and Sunset had told her, about ponies and magic and everything—but she had seen them grow ears and tails, and float in mid-air, so there was definitely something there. As long as it works, she thought. I can still think about this once Sunset Shimmer is back home. And then, It has to work! Twilight had enough basic knowledge in psychology to know that she was going through some sort of guilt complex because of the accident, and because of making Sunset Shimmer so miserable. It had felt really bad to realize how much pain she had caused. Twilight had, as far as she knew, never hurt anybody like this. Granted, she had done her best to stay away from most people back in Crystal Prep, but even then she had done her best to be kind to others. When she had run into Sunset Shimmer that one morning and she had laid out her pain in excruciating detail to her, Twilight was taken by a surge of sympathy for her, despite Sunset’s standoffish demeanor. Which was only amplified by several orders of magnitude when she had visited a miserable and hungover Sunset Shimmer at home sometime later. All of which was probably enough to justify how important it was for her to get Sunset reunited with her love. Maybe that would make Sunset nicer, too. Just as the girls went into the chorus of the next song, the air around them started glowing once more, and almost immediately ears appeared on Rainbow’s head, and her hair grew out into a long ponytail. Wings sprouted from her back, and she took off from the ground. Even though the transformation of her friends was amazing Twilight forced her attention back to the circuit board, and sure enough the first of the green control LEDs was lit up again, responding to the energy of the girls. It was working! She’d be able to help Sunset and fix the damage she had caused! She chanced a quick look back at her friends and saw that by now Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rarity had also grown the ears and ponytails. Just like last time it was only Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy who grew wings, though. That was a question to be researched some other time though. Now three green LEDs were lit. Applejack and Sunset Shimmer finally went through the transformation as well, and like last time Twilight could see the energy, as if the air was glowing around them. And with some unknown sensory organ she could even feel it flow through her body. Her eyes were drawn to Sunset. It was amazing how almost blissful she looked, floating in the air, her eyes closed, and singing. That must be what she looked like when she wasn’t devastated from losing her loved one. She checked the green LEDs again. Four were lit, and the fifth one was flickering curiously. Twilight assumed that the energy flow wasn’t quite stable. But it was practically there. Any second now the automated switch should— Another LED, this one a bright red, came to life, and Twilight felt more than that she heard the changed humming of the circuit board as the capacitators began to charge up. She quickly glanced to the girls to make sure they were still transformed. She silently counted down the remaining seconds. Four point six, three point six, two point six, one point six, oh point six… A ball of purple energy appeared next to her, right above the circuit board. It was egg-shaped, three feet wide and five feet tall. Twilight bit her lip as she stared at the powerful manifestation. It was one thing to create a pin needle-sized portal that didn’t connect to anything. But this… she knew the math behind this and what kind of energy went into creating and maintaining this, and it was somewhat intimidating. “Sunset!” she cried out. Just to be sure Twilight reached out and with only the slightest hesitation touched the portal. Unlike the prototype, there was no solid surface, and her hand went straight in. So the other Twilight had set up her end of the connection. “Sunset!” she cried again, withdrawing her hand. It was cold in there. Sunset opened her eyes and looked at her, still singing. Seeing the portal her eyes widened in surprise. Twilight couldn’t blame her for having doubts, considering her track record. Sunset landed gracefully and started heading for the portal and Twilight when a sudden motion caught Twilight’s eye. She turned. The portal seemed to be pulsating, shrinking and growing in rapid succession. The fifth green LED was pulsing in the exact same rhythm. It’s destabilizing! The energy intake! Sunset stopped dead halfway, and Twilight frantically thought of something, anything she could do to stabilize the portal. Maybe the connection? She fumbled for the cable connecting the energy meter and the circuit board, and just then the purple ball of energy to her side collapsed in a bright flash, and only a few sparks slowly floated to the ground. “Nooo!” Twilight screamed. She looked up to Sunset whose face was a mask of sheer horror and despair. The other girls stopped playing, and the sudden silence was overwhelming. Nobody spoke as they all just stared at the emptiness where the portal had been. Sunset turned to a nearby chair and kicked it with full force, sending it flying into a corner. “I’m so sorry,” Twilight tried to say, but she choked on her own words as tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Sunset Shimmer.”