Applesauce and James exit the cafe. The streets are teeming with ponies wandering toward the town square.
Windy’s hoof reaches out and blocks Applesauce before he wanders into the street. “And just where do you think you’re heading off to?”
“I wanna see what’s goin’ on.”
“You may stay with me.”
The old pony gets up from the table. “It is my belief there will be significant culture to be had at the town square momentarily.” He and James bid goodbye and merge into onto the street.
Applesauce paces. As Windy savors the last of her shake; his tail starts twitching sporadically. Anticipation doubles with each coin Windy counts. Twenty bits leave him dancing on hooftips.
Windy gets up to a foal-shaped dust cloud. "Applesauce!" she summons her charge back from the crowded street. “We’re only going as fast as our slowest member.” She nods for Dasher to get a move on.
The sky grows darker the closer they get to the town square. Ponies crowd in tightly making movement difficult. Dasher flutters above the crowd to get a better view while Applesauce ducks his head to see between the legs. Both colts spot some sort of wibbly wobbly glowy stuff everypony is gathering around.
Applesauce stands back up. “Ya don’t recon’ it’s my rift back home, do ya, Windy?”
Windy’s large, purple wing wraps around Applesauce’s body and scoops him up. “I don’t know what it is,” She whispers, “I think: if it was your portal, you would have noticed it the first time.”
“Sweet Celestia! What is that thing?” Dasher retches shoves both hooves to his mouth.
Applesauce struggles in Windy’s iron grip. “C’mon, lemme see! Lemme see!”
A scream rolls out across the crowd and Ponies start running away frantically. Applesauce squirms some more, poking his head free.
Somepony starts setting off firecrackers or something. Pow! Pow, pow, pow! Weeks of drills with Dad flash into instant recall: a redish-orange haze obscures the outside world. THUD! A dark outline slides to the ground.
Applesauce loses his concentration as Windy jumps up. He lands on her back and holds on for dear life. “My shield!” he moans.
“Shields and flight don’t mix anyway.” Windy banks to avoid a building at high speed.
Applesauce tries his luck anyway. No use. “We gotta warn my family! Fly ta the Apple Farm!”
Windy tenses with each explosion. “No. You are getting on the next train no matter where it’s going. I’ll catch up with you later once our families are safe.” She lands at the station and sits down, unloading Applesauce before getting up and flying back toward town.
***
James and Dr. Stone push their way through the crowd for a closer look. They reach the front, where a patrol of Royal guards holds everyone back with their spears. Two guards are setting up a line of yellow tape, marking off the area. A large sphere four feet across baths the onlookers in a calming, white light. The surface shimmers like water in a fountain.
One guard salutes his commanding sergeant and marches over to the sphere. He reaches a spear out as far as he can and barely pokes the tip in an inch. Nodding back to his sergeant, he probes deeper.
The guards finish setting up the yellow tape, dismissing the last Pegasus holding back the crowd. He falls out and marches to the makeshift outpost.
The first guard tenses, bracing his legs and bearing down on the butt of his spear. A sudden jerk pulls him off balance. The other privates come running. Hooves flail and armor scrapes as the spear tugs its prize along the uneven ground.
The guards reach their friend in time to grab at a vanishing tail. It slips through their hooves and disappears with a ripple. The sergeant drops his clipboard, “Would somepony care to brief me on—”
The crowd lets out a collective gasp when something pops back out. It looks like the guard from before, but his coat and armor are now gray and hopeless.
The sergeant orders his units to back off. He approaches his monochrome comrade. “Are you okay, Private Rice Ball?”
Rice Ball responds by silently probing his sergeant’s soul in with a hollow pair of eyes as more dark, discolored ponies emerge from the portal and fall in behind him. He drops his spear and backs into the amassing horde. They charge.
The air alights with stomping hooves and ponies’ screams as they flee. More dark ponies jump from the portal and join the sloppy formation, trampling anything else in sight.
James throws a lever on his portable cannon. Click-click. “Everyone! RUN!” Bracing it against his shoulder, James levels it at the dark ponies. Bang!
A line of enemy soldiers topples, tripping a few other dark ponies as the bodies disappear into a smoky mist. Their number is replenished by more dark ponies from the portal.
James aims his cannon again without reloading. Bang! Bang! Bang! Each shot is as deadly as the first.
The dark invasion clashes with the royal guards, losing inches of ground to them despite the constant reinforcements billowing from the rift. The area around the front line grows dark and hazy as clouds above thicken and invaders below fall. Guards start coughing, and a new wave of specters shoves its way through the portal.
Bang! Bang! Click. James pulls a box from the bottom of his cannon and drops it. Grabbing another one from his backpack, he notices a tidy pile of tiny, metal tubes on the ground. One eyebrow raises as he aligns the replacement and taps it firmly with the frog of his hand. Click! Click-click. Bang! Bang!
Dr. Stone takes a moment to think. A seemingly infinite army is invading from a choke point. The thickening cloud polluting the battlefield is choking the defenders. An expanding front line is projected to overtake the town in the coming minutes: safe evacuation is impossible.
General Stone singles out the most level-headed civilians and starts issuing orders. “You there, get your hooves on anything you can use as shields and hold a front line. You Pegasi over there, locate the injured and extract them to a safe location, then return.”
As if on cue, a large blast of magic explodes near the portal, vaporizing the dark ponies in the immediate vicinity. Princess Twilight and her Wonderbolt friend fly through the cloud of debris.
Windy Light, the Pegasus mare from the cafe, joins their formation. She shouts, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Get all the foals out of here while you still can!” The princess yells back.
***
Applesauce locates a pitchfork and starts drilling while waiting for the next train. After a minute, he tries a shield spell. Unreliable. He scavenges around a little and settles for a good, solid shovel to keep ready for a broadside attack.
Several Pegasi fly in, delivering the town’s colts and fillies. Fluttershy arrives with her animal friends; all have similar instructions to board the next available train no matter where it goes.
Windy and Dasher return carrying the other Crusaders. As soon as Dasher deposits Sweetie Belle on the train platform, Applesauce grabs his bad wing.
“Hey! Not now, kid. Windy’s making me help with the evacuation.”
“But ya gotta get my saddlebags. They’s in our room.”
“Just replace your stuff later.” Dasher frees his wing and crouches for take off.
“NO!” Applesauce blinks in front of Dasher and contains him with a shield. “These things came from home, an’ I won’ go withou’ ‘em!”
“Let me go. Please! They’ll probably just make you throw it off anyway wherever you’re going.”
“I need my special spellbook an’ my journal! They’s real special gifts from my folks, an’ I don’ know when I’ll see ‘em again!”
Dasher cringes as the shield trapping him twists and warps. “OK, fine! I’ll get your stupid bags.” The shield collapses and Dasher speeds off.
Applesauce returns to his shield skills as more terrified foals arrive. An uneven magic field forms. More of Dad’s odd lessons come to mind. The field bends, wobbles, flattens, and finally hardens into a small, maneuverable shield. It’s a bit small, but the book is on the way.
Another round of foals crowds the train platform. Personal space is limited. Groups of friends huddle with each other for comfort.
Applesauce dismisses his shield and saunters over to the other Crusaders’ huddle. “Look, I know we ain't gettin' off on the right hoof. But I promise” —he slashes a hoof across his chest and cups an eye— “ta do everythin’ in my growin’ power ta keep us all safe.” He tries his best at a reassuring smile.
Scootaloo is a trembling mess like the others, but she musters an answer. “Yeah, well, um… How about we talk about that later?”
“Ya think I ain’t scared too?” Applesauce snaps back, “My one shot at gettin’ home opens, an’ now Ah’m bein’ carted off like a bushel a’ last week’s rottin’ apple cores!” He stomps hard, smashing a hoof elbow deep in the train platform.
Applesauce struggles with the stuck limb until he notices the other foals shrinking back. His eyes grow wide, and he collapses on the platform. Tears burn down the sides of his muzzle. “I’m sorry for yellin’. I didn' mean it, honest! Y’all ain’t still mad at me are ya?”
The girls look at one another. Apple Bloom swallows hard. “How ‘bout we sit together on the train an’ talk about it there?”
Dasher lands with Applesauce’s saddlebags as the train pulls in. “Seriously?” A well placed buck busts Applesauce’s leg free.
Windy deposits another pair of foals. “Everyone here, get on the train; rides are free by order of Princess Twilight!” She helps the conductor cram everypony and every creature on board. “That includes you, Dasher Swift!” She’s already speeding back to town as the doors close.
The train lurches, and the platform starts sliding right.
The cabin is packed. Foals are crammed four to six in a seat. Free space is just as scarce on the floors. The other Crusaders have a bench claimed for themselves. Apple Bloom leans past Scootaloo. "Hey Applesauce, ya mind fillin' in our bench so nopony else tries squeezin’ up here with us?"
Scootaloo grumbles, climbing over the other girls as they help Applesauce with his bags. She opens the window for some air. “Hey, what’s going on out there?”
“How’d I know?” Apple Bloom shrugs.
The four faces don’t get a good look as Ponyville rolls out of sight. Applesauce holds up his spellbook and tries a smile. “Hey, Sweetie Belle, ya wanna study somethin’ with me? Learnin’s always easier when ya got a friend.”
“Su—” Sweetie Belle starts to say before a cough from behind undercuts the spark in her eyes. “Err—” She looks between Scootaloo and the Apple foals and eventually lays down. “Maybe later.”
Applesauce drops his ears again and opens his spellbook to shields.
Thunder rolls across the valley. Foals all around the cabin huddle each other and the bear for comfort. One familiar set of hooves presses through Applesauce's robe. He pulls out his notched bit from his last levitation lesson with Dad and holds it close. Study time can wait. Family’s more important.
***
A dark haze veils the battered town square. Any remaining able-bodied adults grab an array of kitchen knives, garden tools, and assorted sports gear and fight alongside the guards commanded by General Stone. Despite their combined effort, constant enemy reinforcements keep driving the front line away from the portal.
James ducks into General Stone’s cover to reload, “We need to figure out how we’re gonna close that thing! Otherwise, we’ll lose the town!”
“I’m already working on it,” Dr. Stone fires back, “but I seem to be at a loss for materials to work with at the moment… There!” He points skyward.
High above the battle, Windy is flying in a large circle. Her behavior attracts the attention of the local Wonderbolt. "Whirlpool!" —Windy strains herself to cry out over the battle noise— "We can suck them back into the portal!" Both figures work together to form a vortex.
Dr. Stone pulls out a notepad and records some observations. Pen scribbles down some quick maths before he shouts his conclusion to James over his cannon fire. “If we get all the Pegasi enhancing the tornado, it should be possible to contain the mutants within the rift and seal it.”
James shoots a stray figure as it pounces at a local militia member, “That’s great, Doc, but what do I do? I can’t fly!”
“Spread the word! But remember: focus the vortex INTO the portal, not up into the sky!”
“Sure thing, Doc.” James darts out from the cover.
Dr. Stone checks his work. “By my estimation, we ought to produce no less than 1500 wing power before we can effectively repel and contain the invaders.”
“Are you nuts!?” A pink mare pokes her head out from a nearby tussle. “We tried to break the wing power record like, a couple years ago and we hardly had enough Pegasi for a thousand” —she ducks back in and jumps out from behind a hedge— “and that was before we had some of them bug out on sick leave. THE PAPER DOESN’T LIE! Except when it does.” Private Balloons smiles and shoves herself into a blue and pink cannon. She salutes, then fires herself back into the fray.
“But,” Dr. Stone mutters to himself, “the average town this size should have…” He counts off the Pegasi from a random group of about twenty five. Five sets of wings turn up out of an expected eight. Notepad whips back out and axioms adjust. A cascade of revised extrapolations reduce to a trickle. Dr. Stone pails at the result. “No way will we have enough!” he whispers. “Checkmate in seven.”
“Pardon us, Man—” another Earth Pony vies for Dr. Stone’s attention “—but me ‘n’ Walter here were wondering if we could help out in some way without getting in none too close.”
“It cannot be done!” Dr. Stone flips a new page and profiles another fifteen ponies, eyes darting to each one’s head or shoulders and pen scribbling down race. Data crunches into hastily graphed charts. Dr. Stone starts at the same, unfavorable ratio cursing his pad. “There truly are insufficient fliers to generate the required wind strength!”
The civilian and his friend casually slide their bags to the ground. “I don’t know, Man, but here in Ponyville, we have a little tradition called the Running of the Leaves. With so many Earth Ponies in our small town, it’s the only way to make a strong enough breeze to clear the stubborn leaves from some local wood I forget the name of come the end of autumn.” He pulls out a brown paper sack and holds it out. “We’ve never taken part ourselves, but there’s always a first time for everything.”
Dr. Stone grabs the civilian by his shoulders and shakes him back and forth a few times. “Checkmate in six! If left unattended, Equestria will be overrun by these mindless monsters in a matter of days! And only Celestia knows what their intenti—” Dr. Stone goes hoarse and a series of violent coughs seize Dr. Stone’s frame. He hacks up some mucus and blows his nose. When he finally regains his composure, he notices the civilian’s paper bag on the ground. “That won’t be necessary, but the gesture is appreciated.” He coughs one last time.
“Your concept is fundamentally flawed, but the action…” General Stone scans the combat zone again. “Ground-level ventilation. Yes, I suppose that could work, if only—” Dr. Stone grabs his notes on the battle and yanks them out as confetti. Fresh calculations roll across the new page, this time accounting for the curved space-time geometries surrounding the portal. The pen and notebook get stuffed away. “It may be a long shot, but I suppose it might work.”
“We’re all ears here, Man. Just tell us what you need and we’ll do it.”
General Stone clears his voice, “Gentlecolts, I hereby conscript you two as acting Lieutenants in the royal army of the Crystal Empire. Effective from now until the situation is resolved. All combat trained units are to gallop around the perimeter of the front line. Civilian Earth Ponies are to encircle their formation. Pegasi are to take part in focusing the vortex into the rift. Finally, instruct all Unicorns to gather at this position. One more thing: avoid afflicting additional enemy casualties if possible.”
Lightning streaks across the sky as the Lieutenants vanish into the crowd. One by one, Pegasi organize around the funnel above the rift. The advancing army’s progress grinds to a halt against the wall stampeding guards and trained militia backed by everyday townsfolk.
The Pegasus vortex penetrates the clouds and carries a fresh breeze to ground level, dispersing the smoky mist and letting the galloping masses breath easily again. The wind tosses aside most incoming reinforcements, but the stronger, more hulky units still muscle their way out.
General Stone whistles a sharp note to a Pegasus about to take off. “It is imperative I acquire the magical services of Princess Twilight. See to it she reports to me at once!”
The mare salutes with the wrong hoof. “Yes, sir!”
Dr. Stone spits on his hoof and holds it up. Air blows past, cooling the moist spots.
A couple hundred Unicorns filter out from the crowd. General Stone has one enhance his voice. “The Pegasi are doing what they can, but by my estimation, their efforts are only producing half the wing power required before we can stop this invasion.” He lets the Unicorns process the information as the last few arrive. “Who here possesses the greatest magical potential?”
A moment of disorientation, then hooves point inward, singling out a purple mare trying to back away from the attention. It takes some prodding, but she eventually comes forward.
“Who can cast a shield at a distance?” Only about ten ponies raise their hooves. Pen scratches in some more equations. “That should be sufficient. I need you ten cast a linked shield spell as close to the event horizon as possible.”
“Can you honestly be serious?” Private Diamonds objects. “I may not know much about magic, but I’ve certainly got a keen sense for when there won’t be enough power to hold back something like — like these hideous abominations.”
“It’s the same reason the Pegasi are as effective despite only generating 700 wing power on their own. See, the rift is inducing a time dilation field. By taking advantage of the temporal gradient, you can double or even triple your effect—”
“You know what? Save it for later! I’ll explain it to her.” Private Glimmer interjects before Dr. Stone gets to any actual math. “Let’s just say I’m familiar with the subject and leave it at that.” She pushes free of the crowd. “Save Ponyville, then we can talk postgraduate physics when it’s safe.”
General Stone booms out his next order, “I need all remaining Unicorns to lend their magic to this mare on the signal.”
“Wait, What?” Private Glimmer shuffles back, glancing between the general and the tornado. “What is it you need me to do involving that much magic?”
“The plan is to weaponize the Pegasus vortex further.” Dr. Stone flips back a few pages and shows her a diagram.
Private Glimmer takes the notebook and looks over the other notes. “I see.” She gulps. “OK, everypony,” —she faces the vortex and projects her voice— “here’s how it’s going to work:...”
The Ponyville Unicorns form a semicircle under Private Glimmer’s directions. Dr. Stone pulls out his pocket watch, waiting as the second hand ticks toward the top, “Once the shields go up we will have five minutes of safe air to clear the area. Ready, NOW!”
A wall of solid magic severs enemy supply lines. Private Glimmer reviews the notes one last time and shapes her magic into a thin spiral above the vortex. It twists and turns before the free end swings around close. One by one, each Unicorn offers Private Glimmer a colored beam of magic; each beam is channeled along her body, through her horn, and woven around the spiral.
“A little higher,” General Stone warns. “As the spell completes, the diverted suction strength will only grow.”
The last thread glides into place. Dr. Stone spits on his hoof again. “The focus wing power is a minutia low. Constrict the radius by a factor of one sixth.” He looks at his pocket watch again and booms, “Four minutes!”
A purple figure lands in General Stone's peripheral vision. “Okay, I’m here whenever you need me, Doctor!”
“Stand by, Princess.” General Stone tests the wind speed again. “Full wing power achieved. Vacuum at will!”
The ethereal snake retracts past the charging civilians and hovers over a cluster of dark ponies. The first one loses its grip and flies up, around the tunnel, down the vortex and off into the rift.
Several Pegasi scream and break formation. “Remain at your posts!” General Stone thunders, “The future of Equestria may hang on this very hour!” Most of them return.
Private Glimmer sucks up more dark ponies, sending them tumbling along their way.
“James,” General Stone calls, “focus your cannon on the dark ponies outside the front line.”
“Does this thing look like a cannon to you?” James loads another multi-shot package into the bottom.
“Yes.”
“Whatever, Doc.”
Dark ponies are removed from the battle by the dozen, but the remaining enemies eventually catch on. They begin focusing their efforts on a single point on the battle perimeter.
General Stone has the containment rings contract, herding the dark ponies like sheep. “One Minute. We can do it— Quickly, Private! Break the flow!” His eyes helplessly watch as a guard disappears alongside countless legitimate targets.
“Keep it going, Starlight; I’m on it!” The princess leaps into the air. She strains against turbulent winds before charging through the tornado, snagging the single white spot in her magic as it’s about to be blown into the clutches of the rift.
General Stone scowls at Twilight as she returns with the startled guard. “Princess, your reckless rescue attempt, had it failed, would have doomed your home. — Guards! Wing power has dropped by three percent. All fliers must report to the primary twister. Get that strength back up!”
“It’s not like I have anything else to do right now.” Twilight gets ready to take off again.
“We require your fully focused magical abilities to seal the rift.”
“I think I know just the spell!” Twilight starts charging her horn and stands at the ready, “Ready when you are, Sir.”
“What? Oh, the right one is in my notebook— Private?”
“How much longer?” Private Glimmer’s horn sparks as she tries to pass the notebook. The outer pages catch fire.
Twilight takes the notes and stamps them out. “They’re unreadable! I’m just going to have to use mine.”
General Stone grimaces. “Just seal it as best you can and we’ll fix it later.”
The last groups of the dark ponies are swept away as the pocket watch advances past the five minute mark. “NOW, Princess!” General Stone barks.
Twilight looses all she has into a powerful beam of magic. The spell hits the shield wall, energizing it before covering it in a solid, lavender crystal. The rift twists and shrivels within its prison, slowly fading to a thread of light.
Private Glimmer dismantles the magic battle hose, letting the Pegasi know it’s safe to exit their vortex. A new fresh wind pushes back the thick, smoky mist as Guards clean up any straggling enemies rummaging about among the Earth Ponies breaking off from the confinement rings.
General Stone tends to his miracle workers, “Good work, everypony, Princess, Private Glimmer.” Dr. Stone helps them to what’s left of a small lawn. “Might I inquire your actual name?”
“Starlight,” she says between pants. “Just call me Starlight. And don’t you ever think about asking me to do anything like that ever again!” Starlight lays down and closes her eyes.
Twilight finds her own patch of grass. “Why, exactly did that work again?” The sky clears, blasting her with a sunbeam. “On second thought, maybe we can save anything mind-bending for when my brain is a bit more flexible.” She shields her eyes and settles in for a breather.
“You there!” Dr. Stone calls over to a somepony who doesn’t look overly winded, “Trot over to the hospital. Inform them of a miniature epidemic of acute physical and magical exhaustion.”