//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 - RadiantBeam // Story: SunLight Sliders: Infinite // by Amber Spark //------------------------------// In hindsight, they probably should have tried to run. Twilight wasn’t sure what it would have accomplished, exactly; they didn’t know where they were or where to go to even attempt an escape, and they were vastly outnumbered. Even if they had run, they would have had nowhere to go with the TPT in ashes, and they needed a new one in order to continue their adventure so that she could get back home. At this point, she wasn’t even sure that Sunset was concerned about that, but Twilight definitely still was. She liked her home! She wanted to go home! So all that considered, they hadn’t tried to run. But as an army of Twilights closed in on them and started to box them in so that escape would go from possible to impossible, Twilight found herself wishing they had tried, if only so they could see more of the city, so they could get the lay of the land and learn more about the Twilights. On the other hand—hoof? Was it hoof now? They were ponies again, so maybe the saying was hoof, not hand—maybe this would make it easier to find the one Twilight that was Sunset’s Twilight, having them all in one place like this. Twilight had always liked to be as optimistic as possible. She leaned into Sunset, close enough to whisper into her ear and not be heard. “So?” Sunset’s ear flicked, her eyes locked on the Twilights surrounding them. “So what?” “So can you tell which one of them is your Twilight?” Sunset didn’t turn her head to look at her—keeping her eyes on the purple unicorns that had surrounded them was her priority, particularly as she was painfully aware of the fact that they were completely encircled, and the sudden silence after being surrounded was unnerving—but the sideways glare she aimed at her purple companion was enough to make wilt a little. “No, I can’t tell,” she hissed. Twilight’s ears flicked back. “I just thought, you know, there was some defining feature of hers that you could recognize at a glance, maybe?” she offered, her voice getting weaker and weaker as she continued. “… You realize how bad that sounds as a plan, right, Sparky? Please tell me you realize that so I don’t have to tell you how bad of an idea that is.” “I know, I know, I guess I was just… hoping? It would be nice if for once it was that easy, you know? I thought we could use a break.” That made the yellow unicorn next to her snort as she shifted her gaze back to the sea of purple surrounding them, and if she hadn’t been looking at her she would have missed it; Sunset’s lips twitched upwards slightly. It was only slightly, and it was for a brief time, but it was there and it lingered for a moment or two before it passed. It felt oddly good, to see that smile. Sunset made a show of peering through the crowd—probably to drive her point home—before she sighed and gave Twilight another sideways look. “She doesn’t have any immediately defining features, and there’s too many of them here. Even if she was here, I can’t tell right now. She might not even be in this group.” Twilight opened her mouth to speak, even though she wasn’t even sure of what she wanted to say. As it was, it ultimately didn’t matter; before even a single word could get out, she was cut off by the whole line of Twilights in front of them stepping up. As if on cue, the Twilights on both sides of them and behind them also stepped up, closing the distance between them. Sunset’s reaction was immediate and instinctive—her ears flattened and she stepped up as well, moving between the Twilight that was hers (for the moment, at least; she had to remind herself of that) and the small army closing in on them. “What do you all want?” she growled, painfully aware that her show of bravado was just that—a show. She could act protective all she wanted, but she couldn’t actually stop them if they wanted to hurt them or do something worse. A moment or two of tense silence passed, before one Twilight stepped forward completely. She looked like all of the others as far as they could tell, except for her hair: a low tied ponytail slung over her neck. She cleared her throat a few times. “Please come with us,” she said. “This is the first Sunset we’ve all seen in a long time, and it’s caused some… confusion. If we take you to our leader, I think we can get this all sorted out without any issues.” It was a lot of information thrown at them at once, and Sunset and Twilight exchanged a quiet look. It wasn’t a decision in the end, really. They knew that they had no choice. The Twilight that had spoken to them knew this, too; it seemed her request was more for the sake of politeness, as the moment she was done speaking she turned away and began to walk. The sea of purple parted for her every step, and it soon became even more obvious that there was only one path available for the two ponies. “… Stay close to me,” Sunset murmured as she reluctantly began to walk, making sure to keep her hooves in the same spot as the Twilight they were following. It was probably paranoid, but her paranoia had saved her life enough for her to trust it. “Already staying close,” Twilight murmured back, pressing against her companion’s side. She cast one last glance at the small pile of ashes that had been their TPT, and then the ocean of Twilights closed up behind them as they walked and she couldn’t see it anymore. They didn’t speak again for the rest of the walk. Twilight kept her eyes on Sunset, and Sunset kept her eyes ahead of them. In time, they seemed to enter what appeared to be the center of the city: a large circular clearing with a garden at the edges, and a massive old tree at its center, tall and strong. Twilight couldn’t tell from a glance what kind of tree it was, but she could certainly admit that it was a very good looking tree. As the Twilights before them continued to step aside, a closer look revealed that at some point in the past—or perhaps even recently, it was hard to tell—a throne of sorts had been carved into the bark of the tree, and flowers had been planted in the small bit of grass around it. Twilight would have tried to enjoy the growing view more, except that in front of her Sunset abruptly stopped; the purple unicorn nearly walked into her, she was so taken in by the sight of the throne and the tree. “What was that for?” she whispered, stepping around her companion. Sunset didn’t reply. She simply stared, her mouth opening and closing at the sight before her. Swallowing hard, Twilight followed the other unicorn’s eyes. In that moment, she understood why Sunset had been struck silent. Twilight had only heard stories of the alicorn princess Celestia from her Sunset, and descriptions had always been vague due to the redhead’s complicated relationship with her former mentor. Nothing she had ever described could have prepared the purple unicorn for the figure she saw sitting on the throne in front of her. Her coat was a dark purple, almost black, and her mane was a flowing mix of blues, purples, reds, and a faint hint of yellow. She was tall enough that all of the ponies had to tilt their heads back slightly just to look at her, and the Cutie Mark she bore on her flank was no doubt the one that belonged to a Twilight Sparkle. Dangling from a silver chain around her neck was a perfectly intact TPT. Dark eyes widened slightly when she saw Sunset, then narrowed as she slowly drew herself up to her full height and stood, glaring down at the unicorn that had undoubtedly come from her world. It wasn’t the warm welcome that Twilight had been hoping she would witness, considering they needed this Twilight to help her get home. After a moment of silence that seemed to last for both an eternity and a second, the alicorn Twilight Sparkle finally spoke. As if to go along with her size difference from the other Twilights, her voice seemed lower and huskier than her pony counterparts. “Sunset Shimmer.” Every word she spoke was as cold as ice, and Twilight watched her companion slowly shrink. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.” Dark purple eyes shifted to Twilight; she squeaked. The alicorn Twilight softened. “And you,” she said gently. “Let’s get you home.”