//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: ...it always ends in tears. // Story: This is why you should never let ponies play Terraforming Mars // by Petrichord //------------------------------// Fluttershy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Rainbow Dash, you don’t have to—” “I know I don’t have to,” Rainbow Dash replied. “But I need to.” “But you don’t know—” “I’ve still got my turn left. If I understand, then I’ll understand. If not, then...maybe I’ll figure it out later. Some other game.” “Didn’t you understand what Starlight and I were just talking about?” Fluttershy snapped. “Dash, if everything ends, that’s it. There won’t be anything to—” “There isn’t gonna be anything anyway! I mean, what, some of us are going to realize we’re dead? What kind of a life is arguing forever about whether you’re a delusion or just lifeless?” Rarity leaned over the table. “Darling, can’t we just stop and think for a little?” “Look at Fluttershy and Starlight!” Rainbow Dash spread her forelegs. “Does this look like thinking? Because it looks like fighting to me!” Something in the back of Rainbow Dash’s mind shifted, dimly. Blinking a little harder than was necessary, Rainbow Dash pressed on. “Maybe you ponies get to figure things out by fighting, but I haven’t gotten that. All I’ve gotten to learn is by pressing on. All we’ve developed, all we’ve thought about, is by pressing on. You can think that we’re gonna conclude things by debate, and maybe that’s helped you, but I don’t understand any of it. I don’t understand anything that hasn’t been said. And I think…” Rainbow Dash took a shuddering breath. “...I think I need to talk. One last time. Bring everything to an end. That’s...that’s the only way I’m gonna know for sure, that we’re gonna know for sure, if we’re gonna know anything for sure. Only at the end." The shifting at the back of Rainbow Dash’s mind grew a little stronger. Before anypony had time to say anything else, Rainbow Dash opened her mouth and reached out for one final truth. ****************************************** The growth of pony life on Mars had started slow, developed exponentially and surpassed its limits in a brilliant burst of innovation. It seemed most fitting that the growth of heat on Mars had done the same. From humble beginnings with mirrors and angles to the recycling of GHGs, building in on itself in the increasingly magnetically-constructed atmosphere exponentially and due to reach a brilliant, explosive conclusion. The conclusion was an Asteroid, borne on the void’s wings: a precision-guided missile, full of life-giving water and life-enriching heat. Destruction birthing creation. One rock’s travels through the inky blackness would end, so that another rock’s true journey could finally begin. It soared, ever onward, ready to make contact… ****************************************** Fluttershy waved a hoof at Rainbow Dash, looking—for the first time since she had apparently come to accept her nonexistence—alarmed. “Rainbow Dash, Wait!” Rainbow Dash did not wait. ****************************************** There...there was that...that missile soaring out, ready for...ready to...there was contact… ****************************************** “Contact! Contact right!” Rainbow Dash screamed, before diving straight into the driving winds. The winds couldn’t disguise her quarry—or prevent her from reaching it, cold and fierce as the winds were. A twisted amalgamation of ebony crystal and sheer ice surging towards Spitfire, Wonderbolts Captain, as she flung glowing ivory globes at the ground far below. The amalgamate was only a meter or two away before Rainbow Dash barrelled into it, hind-hoof first. With a howl like sheet metal scraping against sheet metal, the creature shattered and dissipated into the tempest around them. “What the—Rainbow Dash?” Spitfire sputtered. “Reporting for duty, captain!” Rainbow Dash replied, snapping a forehoof up against her forehead in salue. “No! No, you aren’t!” Spitfire tossed one last globe into the storm, seemingly oblivious to the steel-on-steel scream that followed as she pointed a hoof at Rainbow Dash. “I explicitly ordered you to retrieve Twilight Sparkle from Canterlot! We need her help!” “Help isn’t coming, captain.” Spitfire paused. “...What?” “I flew there, ma’am. The entire city’s covered in a bubble of lavender energy. I could just barely make out the form of Twilight battling with—” “How did you get there so fast? I was expecting—” “Captain.” Rainbow Dash looked Spitfire squarely in the eyes. “You know who you’re talking to, right?” “Insubordination aside, why didn’t you fly through the bubble?” “Solid. Completely solid, Captain. Like flying into a mountain.” “And did you attack it?” “Like I just did with that windigo-and-dark-crystal amalgamate, Captain.” “Could you make contact with—” “Completely locked off, ma’am. Tirek Ascendant must still be in there. If Twilight hadn’t beaten him by the time I arrived, then...she’s my friend and a hero of the country, Captain, but I’m not sure that she’s making it out of there in one piece, or at all.” “We’ve got no help at all from anyone outside of the north?” “Nopony as far as I know, Captain.” “Damn it!” For a second, Spitfire’s stiff and unwavering hover wobbled a little. “You know we can’t retreat, don’t you? There’s no line to hold after this.” “...I’m aware, Captain.” Spitfire gritted her teeth, clearly trying to maintain her composure. “...Ammunition’s at the second post. Get whatever you can carry and try to shatter as much of these Winterborn as you can. If we thin their numbers enough, maybe they’ll—” A hoof of dark crystal and sheer ice wrapped itself around Spitfire’s hind leg and pulled. In the span of an eyeblink, the Wonderbolts Captain vanished from the air. Rainbow Dash dove through the cloud bank. Whatever was pulling on Spitfire, it was pulling hard and pulling fast. If Rainbow Dash had been a slower pony, or if she had reacted just a couple of seconds slower, Spitfire would have been sent hurtling terminally into the rocks below. Instead, no more than ten meters away from the ground, Rainbow Dash cleared the distance, pivoted and swung her hind leg around. The hoof shattered, and the disproportionately large winterborn pulling Spitfire down shattered along with it, crumbling to frigid dust as Rainbow Dash swooped down under Spitfire, brought her legs to bear and prepared for a landing. Way in the back of Rainbow Dash’s mind, a dim little memory flitted into view: an impatient young pegasus who still dreamed of creating wonderful routines to impress the Wonderbolts, catching a statue at a formal party with her back to keep it from falling. It had seemed like such a valiant act for such a wonderful occasion at the time. Then Dash’s hooves hit the ground with almost meteoric force.. Not that it was the first time she’d experienced sudden impact before, even sudden impact with a passenger, and she had even known it was coming this time. It never stopped taking her breath away, though, and it never stopped hurting. It was hard to imagine what this sort of landing would do to an actual, normal, non-Element-of-Harmony-al pony, but it likely wasn’t a good thing. Still dizzy, Rainbow Dash’s knees buckled, and Spitfire tumbled off of her and onto the snow and rock with a soft thump. “Captain?” Rainbow Dash panted. “Status report?” “Ugh.” Spitfire took a shuddering breath. “I’ll...I’ll manage, Dash. Thanks for the save.” “Least I could do.” One of Rainbow Dash’s forelegs trembled, as if trying to find the capacity to salute; after a couple of seconds, the trembling stopped, and Rainbow Dash nodded. “Sorry for my informality, captain. Not feeling awesome.” “Informality excused.” Spitfire tilted her head and looked behind Rainbow Dash. “Okay. That’s...that’s Lake Mareoz. Good.” “Recognizable landmark, Captain?” Rainbow Dash glanced skyward. Overhead, the occasional flashes of light and faint screams were the only signs that the battle hadn’t ceased. “We’re not far from the third post. If we can get back there, we’ll be able to catch our breath a little better.” Spitfire grinned. “I’m not gonna have the best flier in the history of the Wonderbolts get herself needlessly injured.” Rainbow Dash blinked. “...Captain?” “You heard me.” Spitfire rolled over, hooves scrabbling over the soil in an attempt to right herself. “Don’t let it get to your head, Dash, but we can’t afford to lose you.” “I…” Rainbow Dash gulped, slowly flexing her wings in a vain attempt to loosen them up again. “I appreciate that, Captain.” “Appreciation acknowledged.” Spitfire slowly began pulling herself to her hooves. “I’ve thought about retiring you from active duty after everything’s done, you know.” “Did I…?” Rainbow Dash gulped. “What did I…?” “Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re going into the hall of fame, is what I’m saying. Get the time you want to just come up with new tricks and show up for practice when you feel like it. Do whatever it is you want to do at your own pace. Enjoy life. You deserve it.” “I...I appreciate the thought.” Rainbow Dash flapped her wings experimentally. “I think I’d actually really like to glurph. Ghh.” Spitfire’s eyes widened. “Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow Dash’s head drooped. There, protruding from her chest, was a slick black tendril, dripping some sort of red fluid onto the snow below. Rainbow Dash had just enough time to turn her head and watch as the tendril pulled itself out of her chest and launched itself a little higher, right between her— ****************************************** T-the meteor… ****************************************** Rainbow Dash retched. It wasn’t enough red fluid to call it vomiting, but there was certainly enough red to dribble onto her cards and the table. There was enough red to splatter over her tokens. And, judging by the wet sensation under her nostrils and on her chin, there was enough red to drip steadily over her mouth and onto her chest. “Rainbow Dash!” Applejack yelled. A hoof reached out behind her, but not behind her chest; this time, it was around her right foreleg in an attempt to tug Rainbow Dash into a hug. “I-It’s okay.” Rainbow Dash shuddered, then shook her head. “Like, I...that didn’t feel great, okay?” The contents of Rainbow Dash’s stomach flip-flopped a little, but stayed below the esophagus where it belonged. “It didn’t feel great, but I think I’m fine. I think I’m okay. I think I can be okay.” Rainbow Dash tried to ignore the dual tastes of iron and salt as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. “You think you’re fine? Land’s sakes, Dash, look at you! You’re—” “Like Starlight Glimmer when she tried to get off the train? Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Rainbow Dash took a shuddering breath, shrugged off Applejack’s shoulder and straightened up a little. “Like, I’m not gonna lie. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But it was just for a little bit, okay? I think it’s over.” “That didn’t look like a little bit t’me.” Applejack frowned. “Look, I know it’s a dumb thing t’say, but I don’t want you gettin’ hurt any harder than you—” “I’m not hurt.” Rainbow Dash’s voice caught in her throat for just a second. “Not worse than…” Rainbow Dash paused. “I mean, I’m...did you all hear that? I didn’t…” “Didn’t think it would come up?” Rarity picked up her cards, toying with them idly while she stared at Rainbow Dash. “I’ll...I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting anything like that to happen, either. I didn’t think anypony would...would remember that.” “It wouldn’t make sense for anypony else to remember it if they never died.” Starlight Glimmer sighed. “And I guess you did, huh?” “I guess.” Rainbow Dash sighed. “So that means…” Rainbow Dash froze. Then, slowly, she tilted her neck down to look at the card. It still hovered less than a meter above the table. Rainbow Dash tried to lift the card back up. It wouldn’t budge. Rainbow Dash let her hoof relax a little. The card inched closer to the table. “No,” Rainbow Dash said, stiffening her hoof again. “No?” Fluttershy replied. “No. No, this isn’t right. This...you had to be with me, right?” Rainbow Dash’s voice cracked. “You, I-I didn’t die alone, I just didn’t see you, all of us were…” Rarity shook her head. “I’m sorry, dear.” “Don’t be sorry! I’m...this is stupid!” Rainbow Dash struggled to lift the card up again. “That isn’t how it happened! I, what I said was stupid, and, and fake, and lies, and exaggerated, and…” “Sugarcube, the truth ain’t always pleasant. That’s...that’s how it is.” Applejack set her cards down and tilted her hat back. “But the truth was all I wanted to find out! That, that isn’t...what comes after it doesn’t matter!” A bead of sweat trickled down Rainbow Dash’s temple: the spiritual conjuration, almost like an imaginary reflex, of a creature who no longer needed to sweat or breathe or blush or blink or imagine the familiar voices and familiar faces talking to them. “We don’t have to keep playing.” Rainbow Dash stammered. “I, we, we can just ignore that, can’t we? That isn’t...that isn’t important.” Fluttershy shook her head. “It’s all that matters. We’re just helping you try to realize that.” “Realize what?” Rainbow Dash snorted in an exceptionally fake display of humor. “We’re just playing a card game, or a board game, or a board-and-card game. That’s all.” “There isn’t even a ‘we.’ ” Starlight shook her head. “Stop letting me talk through you, Rainbow Dash.” “You’re not—” “The part of you that’s trying to block out all the things you need to know so that you don’t have to admit that something’s wrong? The part of you that would torpedo everything around her so that she wouldn’t have to say goodbye? The part of her that wants the superficial parts of her life explained to her so she doesn’t have to think too deeply about her situation and take responsibility for the unfortunate truths she uncovers?” Starlight shook her head. “Honestly, the only thing that surprises me is why you’re imagining me instead of somepony else.” Rarity chuckled. “You’re smart, dear, and you’re clearly good at magic. But unlike a certain other magically talented and clever pony I know, you wouldn’t aggressively press her about uncomfortable topics.” “Ahh, right.” Starlight turned towards Rarity and nodded, then turned back towards Rainbow Dash. “Sort of like wanting to learn without taking tests, huh? Like the difference between reading a Daring Do book and taking a university course on ancient history? I’m not surprised that my job is to hold up that mirror for you.” “I’m. Not. Playing. The. Card.” Rainbow Dash’s face contorted in frustration. Applejack shook her head. “You will. Common sense. You’ll get over yourself an’ move on from all this needless caterwauling.” “Yeah?” Rainbow Dash snapped. “And who are you to tell me about caterwauling when you’ve been so...so…” “Wantin’ to say the sarcasm you’d like to say but don’t want t’get in trouble for? Or jes’ the pony who’s open about layin’ the groundwork for useful stuff, even when it ain’t as flashy as mirrors or meteors?” Applejack chuckled. “You always knew you didn’t have a work ethic, sugarcube, but I feel like you’ve done a pretty good job of learnin’ how much borin’ work you’ve got to do anyway. And you wanted somepony to show you how good that was even if they didn’t make you do it right away, right?” “Groundwork for what?” “Being your own innovator. Creating your own routines and fancy tricks for the Wonderbolts, years before anypony besides your parents really noticed you. Writing up lesson plans for your students as wacky and as useful as you could manage. Even the increasingly elaborate nature of your pranks.” Rarity smiled, then giggled. “And don’t think that we’ve forgotten about the Daring Do fanfiction you’ve kept in your bedside dresser, either.” Rainbow Dash’s face flushed. “Hey!” “You have the soul of a poet, Rainbow Dash. Just like I said at the very beginning, when I first heard you narrate your actions. Even if it’s locked behind the body of an athlete and the spirit of a competitor, it’s still there.” “I don’t think it’s just the soul of a poet, Rarity.” Fluttershy shook her head. “Remember how I...or Fluttershy was like, I guess...during the Cloudsdale weather funneling? Remember all the times she’s taken Scootaloo under her wing? Or what about Tank?” “Don’t you dare say anything else about him.” Rainbow Dash snarled. “He’s fine. Everything’s...everything’s fine! There’s a different answer! You’re...you’re trying to trick me, all of you…” “You died, Rainbow Dash. You died alone, with nopony else besides you.” Applejack crossed her forelegs and tilted her head as she stared at Rainbow Dash. “Ain’t none of us around t’cross over with you. An’ that’s just how it goes, sometimes.” “That’s stupid! And it’s stupid that you don’t exist either!” Rainbow Dash’s ears flicked back. Something was building in the back of her eyeballs, or maybe it was her throat, or...or somewhere else. Something rising, trying to wash over the sandy shores of an endless sea. “Why can’t you be alive? You deserve to exist! We all deserve to—” Fluttershy slammed her hoof down on the table “Rainbow Dash.” Rainbow Dash fell silent. Fluttershy, though she clearly had no need for it and never had a need for it, took a deep breath. “You know what we’re saying is true. You know that there’s something waiting for you at the end of this. I don’t think the rest of us have much time, so I need you to listen to me.” The rising sensation in Rainbow Dash’s throat and the back of her face didn’t cease and didn’t find resolution. Silently, she nodded. Fluttershy stood up. “When you’re ready, the train is going to stop. You’re going to need to leave. It won’t be your last stop, but you’ll find out what to do when you get there.” “Don’t try to stay on the train.” Starlight Glimmer nodded as she rose from her seat. “It won’t work out. Don’t try to drag your hooves on the train or elsewhere. You need to move forward.” “Take it simple.” Applejack arched her back, then began to rise just as Fluttershy and Starlight had. “Don’t need to worry about big fancy plans all at once. Stick to basic stuff ‘til you’re sure of what you’re doin’. Folks can always use that.” “But don’t be afraid to get creative, either.” Rarity, while the last to stand, did so without hesitation. “You’ll find everything a lot more wonderful if you think a little and try to make things as beautiful as you can.” “...Can’t we just talk about it a little more?” Rainbow Dash’s voice wavered. “I haven’t...I haven’t even played my card yet.” “Are you sure?” Fluttershy looked down at the table and smiled. Rainbow Dash followed her gaze. Her hoof was still hovering above the table. The card, however, wasn’t. Maybe it had slid out when she was nervous, or Fluttershy had jostled it when she slammed her hoof down or something, but the card wasn’t there anymore. It was lying face-up on the table, next to Rainbow Dash’s face-up stack of cards. Played, as clearly as any other card in front of Rainbow Dash had been. “It’s not such a bad thing.” Starlight Glimmer said. “It should be fun, honestly. I think you’ll enjoy it. Just don’t get too hung up on what you think you have to do.” Rainbow Dash jerked her head up. “What are you—” Starlight Glimmer was gone. Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped. “B...she was, she was just here, where did she…?” “Always with you. Always will be.” Fluttershy smiled faintly. “She was just a part of you, really. Trying to help you figure out what you needed to know before you left.” “How are you all so calm about this? She just disappeared!” Rainbow Dash snapped. “Doesn’t that worry any of you at all? Why are you all okay with the idea of that happening to you?” “T’be honest, sugarcube, I wasn’t. Would have said I wasn’t for the longest time. But I just sorta...knowing that I ain’t here, an’ all...knowin’ that if I’m a part of anything, that I’m a part of you? It’s...almost a relief.” Applejack reached up to scratch her forehead, letting some of her bangs drift in front of her eyes; when she stopped scratching and took her forehoof away again, it wasn’t possible to tell exactly what her expression was. “Sorta like the emotions just went out of me a little. I ain’t my own thing, ain’t my own pony. Just a part of you tryin’ to figure things out, for however long you’ve been figurin’ things out.” “So what was this? I just, I just finally figure out that I died and what I need to do with that and...and that’s it?” “...It can be hard to accept that sort of thing, dear.” Rarity tilted her head. For a moment, she almost looked sad. “You really don’t know how long you’ve been doing this for, do you?” “I’ve…” Rainbow Dash rubbed her eyes. “I have been?” “Tryin’ t’come to grips with it?” Applejack’s lips twisted in a wry grimace. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s been a bunch. But if us bein’ here an’ tellin’ you things you think ain’t bad advice is some kinda indication, it’s that you finally got through to yourself this time. You finally heard yourself talk.” “That still…” A phlegmy-like sensation ran up Rainbow Dash’s throat as she looked at Applejack. “That doesn’t explain why you’re all okay with just being...being done.” “You think I’m really me?” Applejack chuckled. “Starlight weren’t even Starlight, hon. She was th’ part of your brain that wanted t’try out new things, but didn’t want t’have repercussions for ‘em.” “Yeah, well, what about you?” “I’m the sensible bit. Not too sensible to not get dragged along into gettin’ too interested in my work an’ not too sensible to not get worked up when some folks are tryin’ t’get me to do petty or pretty things…” Applejack chuckled, winking at Fluttershy, before pressing on. “...not too sensible to not get worked up about all that junk, but still sensible enough to know what’s what, y’know? Even if I don’t like thinkin’ about it all that much. An’ you know it’s sensible of me t’be a lil’ blunt an’ tell you t’move along.” “Move where?” Rainbow Dash replied, trying to ignore the increasingly powerful phlegmy feeling in her. “I don’t know where this goes! I don’t know where I go!” “Neither do we.” Applejack chuckled. “Just ‘cause we know what you gotta do doesn’t mean we got a context for it.” “Then why should I listen to you?” Rainbow Dash fired back. “If you’re just...just me imagining things, then why—” Rainbow Dash blinked. When she opened her eyes, Applejack was gone. Rainbow Dash pointed at the spot where she had been. A sound like the whistle of a tiny teakettle leaked out of her lips. She blinked once more. Twice. Three times. Nothing. Fluttershy sighed. “You know, for a ‘sensible’ part of your brain, I think she forgot to mention that things won’t get worse.” Rainbow Dash didn’t respond. “If there was something...if there was something awful waiting for you at the end of this, I imagine it would have already happened. Or this is it, maybe.” Rainbow Dash didn’t respond. “...You’re scared. I know how that feels. The part of me that you’re imagining me as is a part of you that’s scared all the time. Because it’s based on a pony that’s scared all the time, isn’t it? So it’s easier to imagine it that way.” Rainbow Dash closed her mouth. Slowly, her hoof drooped down again, until it brushed against the train car’s floor. Rarity stepped a little closer to Rainbow Dash. “It won’t be so bad, dear, whatever it is. If you’ve been put through such a curious thing to have to do over and over again, I can’t imagine that the end of it all would be mundane.” “So…” Rainbow Dash turned her head towards Rarity, stiffly and mechanically. “I know you told me what I need to do, but after that…” “There will be other ponies to help you, dear. It’s not our place.” Rarity reached up to gently caress Rainbow Dash’s cheek. For the first time for as far back as Rainbow Dash could remember, she couldn’t feel anything actually touching her. “My place is to tell you that you like being creative more than you think you do,” Rarity continued. “You like coming up with ideas more than you think you do. In your particular manner of learning, even, you like it more than you think you do. It’s not something intuitive to grapple with, I know, but…” “So is that what’s gonna happen to me after…?” “Being creative? Coming up with ideas? Learning? I don’t think it has to be, if you don’t want it to be. But I think that you might find it more enriching if you think you are.” Rarity stepped away and giggled. “Of course, the pony you can imagine saying all of this would be somepony as aesthetically obsessed as Rarity. But that isn’t to say I’m wrong, dear.” “I...I just…” “I think you’re still looking for answers. Don’t worry. You’ll find them. But the process of finding them will be more pleasant, I think, than you assume it will be.” Rarity stepped back again. “Imagination is a wonderful thing.” Rainbow Dash stared at Rarity. Rarity stared back. Silence settled. Neither blinked. Finally, Rarity feigned a sigh. “...You think that closing your eyes will make me disappear.” “I know it will.” “You’re thinking about it from the perspective of a pony who’s awake. But that’s not how things work here, is it?” Rarity turned her head towards the window. “Not in this lightless realm, it isn’t.” “Does it matter if you think I’m awake or if I’m asleep?” “Of course it does. Sleeping ponies eventually wake up. All you need to do is open your eyes, bit by bit.” “My eyes are open,” Rainbow Dash hissed. “Oh, really?” Rarity pointed a hoof at the windows. “Then how come you haven’t commented on the sunrise yet?” Rainbow Dash turned her head. “The Sunr—” Nothing. Still pitch black. Rainbow Dash turned back. Rarity was gone. “No,” Rainbow Dash whispered. “It isn’t far now.” Fluttershy tilted her head. “Soon you’ll get to see everything grow again.” “No I won’t.” Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth. “I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t.” “There’s nothing wrong with being dead.” Fluttershy took a step closer to Rainbow Dash. “It would be a very different life if nothing died. I don’t think it would be one you liked. You or anypony else.” “Then why did you try to stop me?” Rainbow Dash snapped. “That outburst—” “I didn’t want you to not remember.” Fluttershy shook her head. “I just didn’t want you to end the game before you understood. It...it came a little later than I, um...than I would have felt comfortable with, but you figured it out. I’m proud of you, Rainbow Dash.” “Don’t be. I could have saved you,” Rainbow Dash mumbled. “I could have saved everypony.” “You couldn’t have.” Fluttershy took another step closer. “You didn’t.” “It was a cheap shot!” Rainbow Dash snarled. “I wouldn’t have lost if I had known about it. Nopony would have. We would all be alive, and everypony would be fine, and all of my actual real friends would be with me somewhere, playing this, this stupid game…” “Shhh.” Fluttershy walked forward, slowly, until their hooves almost touched. “Don’t be sad.” “I’m not sad.” “You lived a good life.” “I died. What if my other friends died, too?” “They’ll have what they deserve.” “They deserve to live a good life!” “And they did. Maybe they still do.” Fluttershy leaned a little closer. “It’s okay to be scared to talk about it. I understand.” “I’m dead, according to you.” Rainbow Dash fired back. “Why would I be—” “Rainbow Dash.” Rainbow Dash froze. For a second, Fluttershy’s face had warped into a stern, steely glare. Then, second by second, it dissolved, until Fluttershy’s gentle smile took its place again. “I can stay with you, if you like.” Fluttershy reached over and rested a hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. “Just for a little while longer.” It didn’t feel like a hoof was there, but at least there was some resistance. At least it was something she could feel. A great wave of something undefinable surged up in the back of Rainbow Dash’s body, like a colossal tidal wave ready to break. Weakly, she nodded. Fluttershy leaned over and wrapped her other hoof around Rainbow Dash’s back. The wave broke. There wasn’t any fluid in Rainbow Dash’s body outside of what she imagined. Her lungs didn’t need to breathe. Her jaw didn’t need to open. Technically speaking, she didn’t need to feel emotions, and wasn’t supposed to have any of them. None of that stopped her from burying her face into Fluttershy’s neck and sobbing. The tears didn’t exist, and they didn’t stop coming. They didn’t stop. They didn’t. … … … ... ****************************************** Rainbow Dash opened her eyes. She was in a train car. There were barely any furnishings. There were communal tables between the booth seats, the right shape and size to accommodate a game. There weren’t any games in the room. Something ugly sat in the pit of Rainbow Dash’s stomach. Memories flitted through her brain, of smiling faces and shocked expressions, recalling tall tales and begrudging sentiments and sweet wishes. Rainbow Dash tried to block it out. Any distraction would do. Out of idleness and quiet desperation, she looked out the window. It wasn’t dark anymore. It wasn’t pretty, either. The sun didn’t look quite right, not in the atmosphere. And the ground was patchy like a mangy dog: interspersed with grass and trees and flowers, there were ragged stretches of dusty rock that Rainbow Dash wasn’t sure really counted as soil. Rainbow Dash watched. It had clouds. It might have had birds; Rainbow Dash wasn’t sure. There were things on the horizon that she couldn’t quite make out: large, bumpy uprisings that could have been hills or exceptionally large rocks. The window went dark again. A faint squealing filled the air as something shifted beneath Rainbow Dash’s backside, as if the train was coming to a slow, gradual stop. With a loud, shuddering noise, the train car came to a screeching halt. The doors on the front and the back of the train car swung open; from the front, all Rainbow Dash could see as she looked down the aisles was an endless string of train cars, interiors that seemed identical to the one she was in, linked together by smaller segments. Suddenly, a crackling whine, like the sound of microphone feedback or the readjustment of a loudspeaker, blared out from right above Rainbow Dash’s head. “Attention. This will be the final stop on our route. Please make your way to the cabin junction nearest to you and exit via the descending staircase. Thank you.” Part of Rainbow Dash wanted to refuse, solely for the sake of refusing. The rest of Rainbow Dash, though, wasn’t sure what she wanted to feel, or even what she was supposed to feel now. Everything just felt...dry. Tapped. Like there wasn’t anything else to feel, at the moment. She needed to move forward. That was all she could do. Without another thought, Rainbow Dash walked to the front of her cabin, turned right and walked down the staircase and through the open doors below.