//------------------------------//
// Fury From the Deep 
// Story: Ruler of Everything 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

“Well, Doctor?” the Nightmare said. “You’re alone at last. How do you feel?”
The Doctor stared at the floor for several seconds before looking up at the Nightmare, a candleflame of bravado in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, trying to put some fragment of confidence back into his voice. “Really. Now that they’re gone, I don’t need to worry about what I’m going to do to you --”
“Oh, don’t start,” the Nightmare said with a sneer. “You and I both know that you’ve been running on fumes for years. You’re powerless, Doctor. You can’t even keep up the facade you’ve held for so long -- that you care about these puny creatures.”
“Of course I care about them,” the Doctor said, dropping his gaze again. “Why else would I push them away?”
The Nightmare grinned. “An excellent answer. Of course, you were too late to keep your daughter and her friends out of harm’s way, not to mention your own friends, family, everyone you’ve ever cared about, any planet you’ve ever called home, and your own ship.”
The Doctor said nothing. The Nightmare leaned in close. “You know that everything you touch dies, Doctor. And yet, you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
The Nightmare looked the Doctor square in the eye. “You kill them, and they thank you for it with their final breaths.”
The Doctor still made no response. The mechanical monster snorted. “Very well. Be that way. If you won’t talk to me, perhaps there are some other faces from your past that you’ll be more willing to open up to. Or perhaps they’ll just open you up. One way or another, Doctor -- you’ll spill your guts.”
With a sickening crunch, the stone beneath the Doctor fell away, leaving him falling, falling, falling through empty space, his body as limp as a rag doll.
It was, he felt, no less than he deserved.





It was quickly agreed, in a hasty council of war where all six of them perched on bits of rubble in the hole, that the only real objective the Crusaders could have was to regain entry to the room from which they had all been defenestrated mere minutes ago. None of them were exactly happy about this fact, but the reality was that practically everything important was in there -- the TARDIS, their imprisoned friends, their enemies -- everything.
So, they had to get back into that room. The next question, naturally enough, was how to do that.
“The Nightmare knew we were there all along,” Rumble said. “It practically said as much, that it knew we were hanging around, and all the monsters and stuff we faced along the way were put there by it to slow us down.”
“But it didn’t know who we were before we got there,” Scootaloo said. “So maybe it’s not omnipotent. Maybe it just realized the TARDIS didn’t fly itself here, and operated based on that.”
“So now it thinks we’re dead?” Button asked. “That could be pretty useful.”
Apple Bloom shook her head. “We can’t afford to assume that.”
“But it’s probably not all-powerful here, either,” Scootaloo insisted. “Otherwise, why not just have the ground turn into quicksand under our hooves? We need to figure out its limitations.”
“Maybe it can only summon creatures?” Sweetie suggested.
“Or maybe it can only do so many things at a time,” Dinky mused.
“Or both,” Scootaloo said. “In which case we should probably split up.”
Apple Bloom blinked. “Uh, you wanna run that by me again, sugarcube?”
“If we split up, we divide the Nightmare’s attention, so it can’t go for all of us at once,” Scootaloo said. “Simple.”
“On the other hoof, there would be fewer of us available to fight each attack,” Dinky argued. “I say we stick together.”
“If we split up, we could cover more ground,” Sweetie said, rubbing her chin. “Who knows? Maybe there’s another room in the tower, or something we can use to fight the Nightmare, or, I dunno, an emergency shutoff switch for the Matrix.”
Rumble nodded. “Wasn’t there some kind of rhyme you were talking about earlier, Dinky? Something about some guy’s tower, above, between, below…”
“Who unto Rassilon's Tower would go, must choose: Above, Between, Below,” Dinky recited. 
Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin with a hoof. “So, two of us could take each entrance. Who’s in favor of that, raise your hooves?”
Every hoof but Apple Bloom’s and Dinky’s went up.
Bloom frowned, but nodded, accepting this result. “Fine. How do we wanna split up?”
“Nopony should go with somepony of the same race,” Button said. “Earth pony strength is great and all, but if a pair of earth ponies come across a magic attack or a deep pit, they’re kinda screwed. Maximize the abilities of the groups.”
“I’m gonna have to be one of the ones that goes Above,” Rumble said. “If it’s up on the roof or whatever, like we thought, I’m the only one that can fly all the way up.”
“Ah’ll go with ya,” Apple Bloom said with a nod.
“I’ll stick with Scootaloo,” Dinky said. “If one of the splints breaks, I can fix it with magic more quickly than anypony else could.”
Sweetie glanced at Button shily. “Guess it’s just you and me. You want to take Between or Below?”
Button considered this. “Below. We already more or less know what’s down here, and with you out of magic and me out of… shape… uh, I’d say it’s better the devil we know.”
Dinky glanced at Scootaloo. “You cool with taking the middle path?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“Alright.” Dinky glanced over at Rumble. “You’re gonna need to airlift us out, too, before you head up top with Apple Bloom.”
Rumble nodded. “Roger that,” he said. “C’mere, I’ll take you up first.”
Sweetie glanced around. “Um… which tunnel should we take?” she asked.
“This one, I’m pretty sure,” Button said, shoving rocks away from the eastern end of the hole. Bloom trotted over to help clear a path through as Rumble hoisted Dinky in his hooves and took off. 
When they had set down on the surface, he didn’t go back down straight away. He paused and looked Dinky in the eye. “So, you know my parents disowned me, yeah?”
Dinky looked down. “I know. I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be acting like such a snot when I’ve had it so much better --”
“No,” said Rumble firmly. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I know what it’s like to feel unloved. It sucks, and I’m sorry that you’re going through this. But shutting yourself off from us in self-defense, or belittling yourself for not being good enough, or whatever this is -- it’s only going to make things worse. We’re your friends, Dinky. No matter how hard you try, no matter what your most self-destructive impulses tell you, we like you. We’re here for you, in spirit if not in body.”
Dinky nodded slowly. “I just feel so… cold. Isolated from everything. And it seems like you guys are always drifting farther away.”
Rumble studied her. “You want a hug?”
“That…” she took a deep breath. “That sounds really nice, actually. Yeah.”
Rumble pulled her into a tight hug -- forehooves and wings, the greatest comfort a pegasus could offer. “Joining the Crusaders was the smartest thing I ever did with my life,” he murmured. “I’ll never forget what all of you did for me, what you meant to me.”
Dinky sniffled a little. After a moment, Rumble let go. She held on for a few more seconds before releasing him in turn. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “That… that really helped.”
Rumble smiled and nodded before turning to soar back into the pit.
Dinky looked up at the towering dark edifice before her and set her jaw. “One more time,” she whispered. “Crusaders forever.”





Fleur de Lis had concluded that she, Fancy, and Blueblood would be more of a hindrance than any kind of help at the hospital. As such, she had decided to split them up for a patrol of Ponyville proper, searching for any anachronisms or other bizarre instances of magic. With Gilda agreeing to help survey from the air, the three GUIDE agents had parted ways to explore different sections of the town. 
Blueblood had no doubt that his being sent to investigate the apple farm was a sort of subtle prank from his commander, but he refused to rise to the bait. He kept his litany of complaints about the dirt, the mud, the bark, and the overwhelming supply of -- ugh -- nature to a mere five minutes before storming off to do his duty.
It was, Blueblood had to admit, not quite as terrible as he had feared. Yes, there was still dirt everywhere, and the early summer night was hideously buggy, but at least the plants were polite enough to keep their branches to themselves, tucked away behind refreshingly well-kept fences.
After a few minutes’ trek, Blueblood saw signs of civilization -- a house, just visible through the trees. It was larger than he would have expected, and a vibrant shade of red. He squinted. Was that what he had heard referred to as a ‘barn’, then?
No, he doubted very much that ponies would bother putting chintz curtains in a barn, though what he knew of rural living could be written on a postage stamp. He could see another building beyond the house. That was probably it, then.
He checked the front door of the house. Locked. He shrugged and moved on to the barn. This was, after all, where the TARDIS was meant to be housed. It seemed a more likely place than any other for strange incursions. He shoved open the doors of the barn and let the silver moonlight pour in. He scanned the room for a long moment. Where in the world was the TARDIS? In this huge, empty space, the old box ought to stick out like a sore thumb. There was nothing around aside from that rotting old crate sitting against the wall --
Blueblood’s heart dropped into his stomach. He approached the old box and, in the faint light of the moon, could just about read the words “LICE PUB CA BO” printed on a warped and sagging piece of wood.
He put a hoof on the door. Locked, thank heavens. He wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing whatever decay awaited inside. “Oh, old girl, what have they done to you?” he asked.
The box didn’t respond, didn’t vibrate, didn’t even warm at his touch. Blueblood put his hoof down again and turned away, sickened. It was then that he saw the glimmer of gold out the window. He squinted. Through the trees, he could just make out a flickering ray of golden light.
With one last glance back at the decaying TARDIS, Blueblood hurried out into the orchard.
When he was within a few meters of the source, he stopped, squinting in the light. A sort of rift had opened in the middle of a copse of trees. It looked as though the scene before him was merely a painting, and someone had slashed a hole through it.
Blueblood paced around the rift warily, keeping a good distance from it. No matter what angle he viewed it from, it always appeared to be the exact same ragged-edged shape. It was a three-dimensional rip -- a portal leading to a point beyond normal space and time.
He backed away, thinking. On the one hoof, he ought to stay here and guard the rift, or at least observe any comings and goings from it. On the other hoof, he’d far rather do that with the support of a platoon of guards at his back, or at least Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis. 
The rift pulsed, and Blueblood dodged behind a tree. After a moment’s silence, he peered out again. Nothing had emerged from the rift -- but it had grown. He nodded, coming to a decision, then turned tail and fled back toward Ponyville proper.





Button waved as Rumble lifted Apple Bloom bodily off the ground and up, up, up into the darkening orange sky. Next to him, Sweetie shielded her eyes with a hoof. “Good luck storming the castle!” she called. Button grinned at her.
She glanced at him sideways. “Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the tunnels.
He chuckled. “As you wish,” he said, leading the way. “Can you light the way?”
“Um…” After a moment, Sweetie’s horn lit up faintly. Slowly, it grew bright enough for the pair to see the floor of the tunnel. “Yeah, this is the best I can do,” she said.
“Okay,” Button said. “Uh, give me a second, I might have a flashlight in here somewhere.”
He rifled around his bag as Sweetie examined the cavern’s walls. “Huh,” she said. “We must’ve fallen into some natural caves, I guess.”
“Huh?” Button said absently, picking up a small metal tube and frowning at it when it turned out to be part of a socket wrench.
“The walls aren’t as well-kept as the ones in the tunnels, look,” Sweetie said, pointing her horn toward a stalagmite.
Button peered at it. “Huh,” he said. “You’re right. That’s weird. Aha!” He pulled out a headlamp, triumphant, and flicked it on.
Sweetie tilted her head. “That’s convenient. Why not use an ordinary flashlight?”
“Sometimes you need both hooves and a good light source when you’re working with fiddly technology,” Button said, fitting the thing over his head.. “It’s practical!”
“No arguments from me!” Sweetie said. She extended a hoof. “Shall we, Mr. Mash?”
“Let’s, Ms. Belle,” Button said, taking it. Giggling, the two walked side by side into the caverns. The light from the surface slowly faded as they walked into the dark. 
Somewhere in the tunnels, far beyond where the pair could see, something stirred in the darkness. It sniffed the air. This was not home. This was not where it should be. Slowly, the great furry mass of the Royal Beast of Peladon levered itself from the floor and set out to find its way home.





Dinky shoved open the enormous, carved stone doors and held them for Scootaloo as she hovered through. “How long can you keep that up?” Dinky asked.
Scootaloo grunted. “Dunno.”
“If you keep it up, you’ll burn out completely.”
“Mmm, mm-hmm.”
Dinky let the door swing shut behind her. “How bad’s the pain?”
Scootaloo shook her head quickly. “Had worse.”
Dinky sighed. “Do you want to ride on my back?”
“Oh thank Celestia, yes, yes, yes.”
Scootaloo buzzed over and Dinky levitated her the remaining inches needed for the pegasus to sit comfortably on Dinky’s back. “I, uh, I’m not too heavy, am I?”
Dinky shifted, staring back at her friend incredulously. “You weigh as much as a bag of potato chips!”
“Well, I’m a bag of potato chips wearing heavy metal boots, though.”
“You’re fine,” Dinky assured her. “You need to eat more, but you’re fine. Now, let’s get our… bearings… Huh.”
For the first time, both mares really registered the scale and grandeur of the atrium. It dwarfed that of the Castle of Friendship, and even of Canterlot Castle itself. From every wall, imposing figures stared down at them. Each of them had a different body -- a stout stallion with enormous mutton chops, a lanky zebra in a skullcap who was holding what looked like knitting needles, an elderly unicorn with a face-obscuringly bushy beard and some kind of crown -- but each had the same stony, unforgiving eyes.
Around the ceiling, bright stained-glass lanterns cast rays of crimson and gold around the room. The floor was tiled in similar colors, a circular pattern all centering on an enormous eye in the center. Into the walls, a number of titles were carved into the stone -- “High Priest of Dronid”, “First Earl of Prydon”, and “Ravager of the Void” were the first few that Dinky read. She nodded slowly. “Mr. Rassilon, I presume.”
Scootaloo glanced at each of the statues. “Which one?”
“All of them. He was a Time Lord, I remember that much.”
“Wait. Does that mean this is Gallifrey, then?”
“Well… a simulation of Gallifrey, but yeah.”
Scootaloo scratched her head. “Does it feel weird at all? Like you’re coming home or whatever?”
Dinky scowled back at her. “No. It’ll feel like going home when we get back to Ponyville. This feels like I’m coming back to a dumb dead guy’s ego-stroking chamber on a stupid orange rock where all of us have nearly died multiple times already today.”
Scootaloo considered this. “Yeah, that’s fair. So.. this Rassilon guy. You think he was compensating for something?”
Dinky considered the room. “Uhh… definitely. From what the Doctor told me, he named, like, a thousand artifacts after himself and threw his friend into a black hole so he could take all the credit for inventing time travel.”
“Huh. He sounds like a massive tool.”
“Apparently, that’s one of the major impacts he had on Time Lord society! Let’s get out of here, this place is weirding me out.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Dinky set off across the room. In the opulence and grandiloquence of the room, neither mare noticed a trio of smaller statues standing at the base of one of the enormous Rassilons. If they saw the three pegasus mares standing with their hooves over their eyes, neither paid them any heed. When the room was empty, however, the statues’ hooves were lowered, revealing their eyes. Five of them stared after the two departed ponies. The sixth, misaligned, stared at the wall.





“I shoulda taken Button up instead,” Rumble growled.
Apple Bloom frowned. “That a crack about my weight?”
“Dude, don't be ridiculous. You’re the only one of us that’s taller than I am, and you’ve got abs that could crush apples if you flex right.”
Bloom preened. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ wanted t’ hear ya say it.”
“Egomaniac.”
Apple Bloom blew a raspberry. “Anyway, you couldn’t ‘a taken Button up, or else he couldn’t ‘a gone with Sweetie. You can’t break up soppy like that.”
“Hm. Dinky, then.”
“You two woulda sourpussed each other to death before you got halfway down th’ stairs. Save yer breath fer liftin’, we’re nearly there.”
After another minute, Rumble set Apple Bloom down on top of the tower. Thankfully, the roof was flat-topped, shaped like a sort of ziggurat. For a long minute, the two stood in the shadow of the enormous golden sculpture that adorned the building’s peak while Rumble caught his breath. 
Eventually, he straightened up. “Alright. There’s got to be a door up here somewhere. You check around the center, I’ll see what I can find around the perimeter.”
Bloom shuddered. “No arguments here. That’s one heckuva drop right there.”
Rumble trotted a few steps down the pyramid. Before he began searching in earnest, he took a moment to study the sky. One of the suns was sinking below the horizon, and its twin didn’t seem far behind. The clouds were darkening as well, threatening a storm coming in. Rumble doubted that it would reach the tower, though -- the winds were blowing down the mountains and across the desert.
He looked down from the dimming orange sky to look for hatches, trapdoors, anything at all that might provide ingress.
“Hey!” Bloom shouted.
Rumble’s head whipped up. “Did you find it?” he asked, hurrying to his friend’s side.
“Well… Ah reckon Ah found somethin’,” Apple Bloom allowed, scooting to one side so Rumble could get a better look.
She had discovered and opened a panel in the roof, near the base of the immense sculpture. Within was a complicated system of circuits. Rumble stared at it blankly for several seconds before looking up at Apple Bloom.
“Oh. Right. Uh, well, it’s basically a puzzle, see. Gotta connect th’ right circuits up, an’ th’ door will open.”
“And if you get it wrong?”
Apple Bloom scratched her chin. “Ain’t sure. Best case scenario, nothin’ at all. Worst case, uh… yeah, dunno, might activate a security system. Don’t matter, though, Ah ain’t gonna get it wrong.”
Rumble nodded. “Okay. Is there anything you need me to do while you work?”
Bloom considered the system of circuits. “Eh. Nah. Too small a space fer two ponies to work. Keep an eye out on those clouds, though. Don’t like the look of them.”
“Oh, no, they’ll be fine,” Rumble said, glancing out at the horizon. “The wind’s blowing away from… the tower…”
The clouds seemed a lot closer than before. They looked like they were getting darker, too. “Yeah, you just… you just be as quick as you can with those things, alright?”
“Already on it,” Bloom said, hooves deep in the wiring.
Off in the distance, lightning crackled. Rumble set his jaw and flew to meet the oncoming storm.





The Doctor was in a dark place. This was true in a figurative sense, of course, but it was also very much the literal reality of his situation. He had been falling for quite some time. He had stopped now, and therefore he supposed he must have hit rock-bottom, but he wasn’t quite sure when the change had occurred.
This, he thought, was probably also a metaphor for his life. 
For a long time he just lay there on the ground. Dimly, he realized that his sense of time was failing him again. Sure. Why not? He didn’t really need it at the moment, just one more reminder of his life ticking away, each passing second another failure to move.
He could rot down here. He could let Time and Pain and Death take him slowly, delicately, piece by piece as punishment for evading them at every turn.
On the other hand, that sounded really very boring, and there was still a universe to save, after all. He still had to rescue his friends, didn’t he, before he could leave them forever? He still had work to do. Come on, Doctor, show some backbone! He willed his hooves to push him upright, walk around, find a wall, investigate.
They did none of those things. He did manage to flop over onto his stomach, which he supposed was a start. The problem was…
The problems were…
There was very little that wasn’t a problem, honestly.
He decided to start with the most immediate problem. He couldn’t see where he was Dinky was dead. He didn’t know where Ditzy was a Weeping Angel he was. He might not all his friends stolen away from him one way or another even be standing on solid he was alone ground. 
Right. Well. How to solve that problem? Get Twilight to light her horn. Well, he could feel around the ground a bit.
Ah. It was gritty. How unpleasant. Underneath the grit, he could feel tiles. He was probably inside a building, then, a building in the middle of a desert. Perhaps Rainbow Dash could scout from the skies?
He shifted a leg and accidentally kicked something metallic. A little more curious kicking revealed it to be a barstool. Using his incredible Time Lord powers of deduction, he managed to work out that he was in a bar. Perfect for a Pinkie Pie Party.
At long last, he hauled himself to his hooves. He simply couldn’t stand another moment of silent self-reflection. He fumbled blindly in the dark, bumping into tables and chairs until he found his way to the wall. After another few minutes of stumbling along, he finally found the lightswitch.
After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted to the light. He peered around the room. It seemed familiar, but he hadn’t been here recently. After a few moments, it clicked. This was a bar in the Capitol Lowtown -- a low-class, filthy establishment that Shobogans, dropouts, and wastrels of all kinds had adored, and every right-minded Time Lord disdained. It had been one of the Doctor’s favorite hangouts as a student.
“Why here?” he asked. “I’ve only got good memories of this place. Drinks, fights, music, friends…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
The lack of a response hung in the air like the sword of Damocles. The Doctor shut his eyes. He just had to keep moving. Just keep moving, and the despair won’t be able to keep up. Just keep moving.
There was a thump at the door, shaking the Doctor from his reverie. The thump came again, and again, and again. The door to the bar creaked on its hinges. Very quietly, the Doctor skirted around to the back of the bar, where the secret exit was hidden.
The door began to splinter, and the Doctor dodged out just before it exploded off its hinges. Therefore, he didn’t see the three mares who walked in -- a ginger unicorn with glowing golden light shining from her eyes, a short-maned pegasus with black gunk bubbling over half her charred body, and a brunette earth pony whose form seemed to flicker and shift subtly every so often.
The ginger glanced around. “Gone already,” she said. “Must’ve taken the back way out.”
“We should go after him,” said the pegasus, her voice thin and reedy, like a shadow.
The ginger considered this. “Nah. Let’s have us a bit of booze.”
“But Donna, he’s getting away!”
“Let him run,” the brunette said, her voice light and chipper as she took a seat at the bar. Her form flickered, and her muzzle twisted out of shape. When she spoke again, her voice was flatter, crueler. “It’s not like he can get anywhere.”
“Peri’s right,” Donna said. “Anyway, there’s worse than us out there. Come on, Fey. First round’s on me.”
Fey grunted, but slid onto a barstool. “No ginger,” she warned. “I want a clear head for this. I want to remember his face when he sees us again.”
Donna poured out three glasses and raised one high. “To the Children of Time,” she said. “Warriors, murderers, weapons all.”
The three former companions clinked glasses and drank deep.