//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 // Story: Double Trouble: The Flaws Within // by Masterius //------------------------------// Chapter Seventeen Blah, blah blah, natter natter grommish, grommish blah-blah. The physicians—such as they were—were, once more, assembled in Sunset Shimmer’s sick room, as were two of Princess Luna’s Royal Guard. And, as before, they were blathering nonsense back and forth amongst them. Oh, they were saying actual words—even understandable ones—but as far as Twilight was concerned they might as well have been spouting gibberish. Sunset Shimmer was back in bed—having ill gracefully submitted to that inevitable and was now looking annoyed—occasionally shooting Twilight a commiserative look. It was obvious to her that Twilight was less than enthralled by the “mumbo-jumbo” all about her. In many ways, Sunset Shimmer understood where Twilight’s frustration was rooted and flowering. If she had not self-exiled herself to a world with absolutely no magic, if she had not been forced to make accommodations due to that dearth, perhaps she would not have been quite so sympathetic. But, she had, and she had, and so understood Twilight’s condescension far more than Twilight would have believed possible. In fact, due to her own unique circumstances, Sunset Shimmer might very well be the only pony in existence—for now, at any rate—who was both classically trained in magic as well as formally educated in science. I know these are very senior physicians, and quite likely the six most experienced and skilled in all of Equestria. Princess Luna would have spared no effort to find and then summon the very best for her sister. But I have to admit, trying to explain to them what an electrocardiogram is and how that works, or an electroencephalogram and how that works, using only pure human science and technological terminology… Wincing as she glanced once more Twilight’s direction, I don’t think I could do that, and if I can’t, poor Twilight doesn’t have a chance. Twilight stopped trying to follow along with the smoke-and-mirrors guesswork of the ‘experts’, and, instead, just plastered a neutral, pseudo-interested expression on her face. It’s utterly pointless; an absolute waste of time attempting to accomplish anything useful with this “magic”, no matter how plentiful and powerful it might be. Oh, I’m sure they can achieve some results with that, she graciously admitted. Take Doctor Horse, for instance: Twilight respected him, both as a physician and as a person…pony? He knew what he was doing, and he did it well. He was a talented, skilled, and educated physician…but he definitely was not a scientist. He was fully capable of examining a patient and, based upon that assessment, render accurate diagnoses and prescribe useful treatments. For instance, like covering a weeping wound with honey or infusing a tea with willow bark for fever reduction and analgesic. He knew what worked, when to use it, and how to use it. But he couldn’t explain why it worked or how it worked. Granted, neither could Twilight, as her majors were focused primarily on physics, mathematics, and quantum mechanics, and not at all anything medically related. But the difference was Twilight knew that, regarding medical issues, there were explanations, and that finding out those details were simply a matter of research. This…this energy inside me might be useful for parlour tricks, but not for anything serious. With a final, disdainful snort, she dismissed this “magic” malarkey once and for all, relegating it to the dustbin where it belonged, seeking refuge and security in what she knew best and had worked so terribly hard to achieve. Regrettably, for all concerned, although Twilight had been completely silent with her hyper criticalness and scornful dismissiveness, her pacing about coupled with her expressions had clearly announced her opinions. “So…Miss Sparkle,” Twilight instantly snapped to attention at that lazy, sneering drawl. Head jerking to the side, she saw the physicians standing together in a group, gazing at her with expressions ranging from annoyance to sheer disgust. “Since we seem to be boring you, suppose you tell us what would work.” “My pleasure.” That was not the reaction they had expected. Pacing back and forth, Twilight’s eyes took on a distant yet very focused look as she tipped her head back a bit, looking upwards as she muttered and murmured to herself. “Depletion layer between N-type and P-type…apply a small forward bias…maximum at the point where the voltage bias is such that the energy level of the p and n conduction bands are the same…” Within a minute, however, she was growing visibly frustrated, her pacing now more stalking, tail lashing back and forth like an angry feline. Spike suddenly perked, then quickly raced out the door, returning within a minute with a small slate and a length of white chalk. “Here!” he called out, tossing the chalk to Twilight… Who unthinkingly “grabbed” it, her horn brightly glowing… …as did the slate moments later, Twilight “taking” it from Spike. Instantly the chalk started stabbing the slate, the white stick rat-tat-tatting as it raced across the surface at blinding speed, leaving formulae after formulae in its powdery wake. Neat, and very precise, lines of formulae. It was dead quiet in the room, everypony shocked and stunned by the fierce concentration Twilight was displaying. They could have been holding a riot, however, and Twilight would never have noticed. Any lingering desire of theirs to mock or belittle—granted, with good reason; even Fluttershy’s patience had limits—had long since vanished. Everypony jerked as the chalk struck the slate like a jackhammer, splintering into powdery fragments as Twilight marked the final punctuation. “There,” she declared. “The answer.” Spike quickly yet surreptitiously took the slate from Twilight before she became conscious of just how she’d been taking her notes. Since all Sunset Shimmer could make heads or tails out of that furious scribbling were the basic mathematical operators—add, subtract, multiply, divide, and equal—she had a shrewd suspicious that the physicians were even more in the dark than she was! A suspicion that was borne out when… “Ah…‘The Answer’,” one of them repeated. “Miss Sparkle, the, ah…answer to what, exactly?” Stabbing a hoof in Sunset Shimmer’s direction, Twilight curtly announced, “Curing her.” Catching herself for the third time starting to pinch the bridge of her nose between nonexistent fingers and stopping just in time—and thus avoiding the necessity of restorative rhinoplasty—Twilight’s temper was starting to fray…again. No sooner had she announced she’d determined a cure for Sunset Shimmer—although, to be scrupulously accurate, it was more a ‘fix’ than a ‘cure’—then she’d sensed their disbelieve and disparagement. “Fine,” she coolly replied, pausing a moment to reach for her notes. How in the world— Don’t ask, Twilight. Just. Don’t. Ask. That was indisputably her handwriting. Unfortunately, she no longer had hands. Giving a massive shake of head and body, Twilight simply shelved that line of deductive curiosity. “Thank you, Spike,” she politely acknowledged as the little dragon picked up the slate for her. “If that will be all, then?” she just as coolly took her leave. “We’re going to just leave?” Spike softly asked as he followed her towards the door. “I was summoned for the following, and I quote: ‘For one, she may have knowledge concerning the Crystal Mirror and the reasons behind its destruction. But, just as important, and for all concerned, simply seeing her presence here in Canterlot will do much to dispel any growing sense of fear and panic that will undoubtedly result if Celestia does not recover by morn,’ unquote. Well, here I am. Check. Dispel that fear and panic? Check. And I do have input concerning that Mirror.” Her voice was cool and clipped, Twilight completely ignoring the sharp, swift inhales at that admission. “But as my work regarding Sunset Shimmer has already been ignored, why should I invest any more of my valuable time only to have that ignored as well?” The physicians silently watched, well acquainted with the histrionics and theatrics of the aristocracy. Once Twilight realized, and understood, that they were up to her tricks, why, she would be back. Yep. Any moment now… “My head hurts,” she quietly said to Spike. “And I’m hungry. Can we, please, just go back to the castle?” “You’re really going to just leave?” Ears swiveling back, Twilight bit back a sharp retort. “What would you like me to do, Spike? I have the answer for Sunset Shimmer. But they won’t listen. It’s just ‘Go home and play with your dollies’ again. As usual,” she heaved a tired, defeated sigh, the first time Spike had ever heard her sound so dejected. From behind came the rapid clip-clop of hooves on tile, growing louder as it grew closer. “Miss Sparkle?” came the panted call. Coming to a stop then turning about, she faced the winded courtier. “Yes?” she coolly asked. “Your…your pre…your presence is…is requested—” “No.” The courtier rocked back, startled and no little frightened by the intense vitriol of that single word. Twilight simply turned around and continued on her way. “It is Sunset Shimmer’s request.” Twilight paused, closing her eyes and taking a very deep breath. Instinct shouted at her to ignore anything to do with Sunset Shimmer, but logic—usually her bosom buddy, but this time her betrayer—forced her to admit a reality she wished she could ignore: this Sunset Shimmer was not that Sunset Shimmer, something that had become readily apparent within minutes of meeting her. “Very well.” “Assuming I can locate the necessary supplies, technicians, and mechanics, this won’t take any time once it’s been constructed,” Twilight pedantically stated. “What do you require?” the remaining physician asked, the other five having decamped earlier. And understandingly so, as they’d returned to continue treating Princess Celestia…and escape Sunset Shimmer, who had been growing increasingly furious over them dancing attendance on her when they should be treating Princess Celestia! “Copper,” came the instant response. “Pure copper. Deoxidized copper would be best, but pure copper will work just as well.” “Copper will be easy enough to procure,” the puzzled unicorn medico replied. “Ah…what kind of copper? Ingots? Coins?” “Bring me a four by four.” “Excuse me? Bring you a what?” “A four by four,” Twilight exasperatedly replied. “You’re a doctor, and you don’t know what that is? Ow!” Twilight yelped, rapping her nose with a hoof once again. With dignity and gravitas, he replied, “Yes, I am a doctor, and yes, I don’t know what you mean.” Rubbing her nose very carefully, Twilight took several deep breaths as she fought for her ground and center. “A four by four,” she patiently explained, this time without any disparaging tone, “is a woven, sterile cotton, gauze pad, four inches square.” “Ah!” his face brightened. “I’ve no idea what an ‘inch’ is, but I think I know exactly what you mean. And indeed he did, his assistant returning minutes later with a selection of gauze pads and sponges. “Thank you,” Twilight said to the assistant, then smothered a growl as her ears flicked backwards, unable to actually pick any of them up. “OK…see how fine the thread is?” she asked. “Yes. And?” he prompted. “I need enough copper wire that size to create a ‘skin’ around a cage support large enough to enclose Sunset Shimmer within, and with a tight enough weave to be visually opaque.” Holding up a forehoof, Sunset Shimmer waited until she caught Twilight’s attention. “Does that need to be woven ahead of time?” she asked, “Or can that be formed in place?” “What do you mean by ‘formed in place’?” “Don’t,” her current physician rapped out. “Don’t even think about it!” he sternly commanded, pointing a forehoof at her. Twilight was very surprised when Sunset Shimmer sheepishly smiled then nodded. Her attention flicked back to him as he clarified, “What Sunset Shimmer is asking, is can the frame of this cage be assembled first, and with the copper mesh then created about that?” “‘Created’?” Twilight carefully replied. “Yes. ‘Created’. That’s not something I can do: that requires a Mage. So, while one is rustled up, suppose we ‘rustle up’ some food for you.” About to demur again as she had earlier, a deep, low rumble betrayed her…just as it had done before. Sighing, Twilight nodded, surrendering to the unavoidable necessity. “It’s called a ‘Faraday cage’,” Twilight mumbled past her mouthful of grass clippings. She had a sneaky suspicion Spike had a paw behind the menu, as she’d detected fleeting looks of surprise from both Sunset Shimmer and Dr. Nova, the physician who had remained behind. Twilight had surrendered to the inevitable, simply ‘grazing’ as she had for lunch while the other three used forks, manipulated either by paw or levitation. One could suppose Twilight would feel embarrassed eating that way as compared to their way: one barbaric, the other cultured. For her, however, it was meaningless. Meals were simply a matter of refueling the body, and the more efficiently that could be done, the better. Since she was unable to levitate forks or to use her hooves—yet—grazing was a perfectly acceptable method. “A Faraday cage or Faraday shield is an enclosure used to block electromagnetic fields,” she continued between bites. “A Faraday shield can be fabricated by using a continuous covering of conductive material. But that won’t work here.” “Why not?” Sunset Shimmer asked. Since it was clear she was simply curious and not challenging, Twilight answered. “You’re going to be inside for quite some time,” Twilight explained. “Because I need you to recharge using only your own internal, ummm, generator? I’m not precisely sure how that works.” It was obvious she hated admitting lack of knowledge, but just as clear was her refusal to deceive by claiming more than she possessed. “Doctor Horse explained that unicorns ‘recharge’ from both external and internal sources. I need you to recharge your ‘battery’ from only your internal resources. Because that is likely to take some time, you’d asphyxiate inside a Faraday shield long before you’d sufficiently recharge, as you’d be sealed off from external atmosphere.” Nopony missed seeing how animated, how enthusiastic—how joyful!—Twilight became as she surrendered to her love. Spike’s eyes teared up; he had seen the very same thing with his Twilight Sparkle—many, many times, in fact. The only difference between the two was that his Twilight’s love was for magic and research, while this Twilight’s was for science and research. Then again, nopony misunderstood that Twilight was seeing probable asphyxiation simply as an obstacle preventing success rather than somepony actually dying. That was not exactly disturbing, per se, but it did indicate the extreme depths of Twilight’s mono-focused obsession. “Well, yes. I can see that, now. And I’d rather not suffocate to death, I suppose,” Sunset Shimmer gently replied, her voice lightly teasing. Twilight froze in mid-chew, having just taken another mouthful. Unlike her usual mealtime breaks, she was actually taking time to chew each mouthful, and enjoy the textures and flavors the same way she had during lunch earlier this day. Abruptly looking abashed, Twilight hung her head, still not chewing. They could not possibly mistake her humiliation; Twilight deeply flushed with shame, her entire body radiating abject misery. “Twilight,” Sunset Shimmer softly spoke, then waited until the wretched alicorn looked up and at her. “I was just joshing. Promise.” Sharply gasping, Sunset Shimmer suddenly clapped both forehooves over her mouth. “I’m sorry! I meant Miss Sparkle!” Spike forced himself to remain stock-still, struggling to keep his face expressionless as he watched Twilight close her eyes and begin silently mouthing words. Her lips were so barely moving he doubted anypony could make out what she was saying. But he could! And as he started piecing together those silent words, knives started piercing his heart. Twi-light, Twi-light! She’s just stupid, not too bright! * Twi-light, Twi-light! She’s so ugly, such a fright! * Twi-light, Twi-light! Such a fraidy cat! Scared of the night! * Sunset Shimmer, Dr. Nova, and Twilight jerked as Spike loudly smacked his paw on the tabletop. Before anyone could question him, Spike briskly rubbed forepaws together. “OK, Miss Sparkle: now, where were we? Faraday shield is out. What's next?” “Ha? Ah…um…” Her expression miserable and now befuddled, it was shocking to see what happened next, for there was no mistaking the moment Twilight erected, once again, the adamantine armor of her defenses. The instant Twilight once more focused on science, she instantaneously reverted to her earlier excitement and enthusiasm. “Well, since a Faraday shield is out, we then need to construct, instead, a Faraday cage.” “What’s the difference?” Dr. Nova asked. “Between the two, I mean.” “Well, both are constructed using conductive materials, the most conductive being, of course, silver. But silver does tarnish and isn’t as durable as copper; although their comparative tensile and yield strengths are similar: silver being 23k and 8k, compared to copper’s 33k and 10k.” Neither Sunset Shimmer nor Dr. Nova understood most of what Twilight was so casually rolling off her tongue. However, neither could they mistake Twilight’s sheer confidence of, and security in, her knowledge. “As I’ve already mentioned, a Faraday shield is constructed using conductive material, in solid form; for instance, rolled foil or sheet. While a Faraday cage is fabricated using a mesh of conductive materials. Because it is a mesh, air can freely exchange between the inside of the cage and the outside atmosphere. “Both Faraday cages and shields operate because an external electrical field causes the electric charges within the cage's conducting material to be distributed so that they cancel the field's effect in the cage's interior. This phenomenon is used to protect sensitive electronic equipment from external radio frequency interference, and is often during testing or alignment of those devices. “They are also used to enclose devices that produce RFI—radio transmitters, for example—preventing their radio waves from interfering with nearby sensitive equipment. They are also used to protect people and equipment against actual electric currents such as lightning strikes and electrostatic discharges, since the enclosing cage conducts current around the outside of the enclosed space and none passes through the interior.” Twilight continued on for another five minutes, and by then all three were gazing with glazed eyes at the enthusiast alicorn, having been lost some time ago. “Ah…Miss Sparkle?” Sunset Shimmer gently interrupted at the next pause. When Twilight simply lifted a brow at her, Sunset Shimmer mildly reminded, “Could you, please, explain things in a simpler fashion?” Before Twilight could possibly be offended by such a request, “Please remember that I’m likely the only pony here that understands concepts like “RFI”, “electromagnetic radiation”, and other, similar concepts. “Actually,” Dr. Nova added, looking sheepish, “I have a question.” And when Twilight looked his way… “Why are they called “Faraday”? What’s the significance of that?” Standing outside of the fully constructed cage, Twilight gazed down at the recumbent Sunset Shimmer dozing inside. Everything was running in perfect accord and harmony with her plans, and so she was feeling completely calm, confident, and serene, and certainly not in the least nervous or concerned as to the viability of her conclusions. Nope. Not at all. She kept reminding herself of that every five minutes, like clockwork. Were she still in her world, she would have been utterly and completely confident, having never seen any reason why perfectly natural phenomena—gravity, thermodynamics, and electromagnetism, to name a few—should, or even could, operate differently. However, this wasn’t her world…as, just minutes ago, that fact had been bluntly driven home and incontrovertibly demonstrated to her… If Twilight started tapping her hoof one more time… Lips pressed tight, eyes narrowed, tail randomly swishing with enough force to start a gale, Twilight radiated a tense impatience so strong it was palpable, setting everypony inside the room on edge. She had absolutely no doubt at all about the outcome, but at this stage of the process she was now just a bystander, as the actual conclusion of the operation was now completely dependent upon others. Magie Lumière—the unicorn Mage who earlier had magically fabricated the copper mesh around and about the copper framework of the cage—and Sunset Shimmer herself, were now ‘running the show’. That understanding, while completely logical, nevertheless grated on Twilight. Strict, absolute control was her bedrock, the keystone to her confidence, safety, and security. In addition to that unpalatable reality was the anxiety over something else she had neither control over nor knowledge about: the actual moment when the procedure could commence. She could not properly calculate how much time remained before commencement because she could not accurately account for the two most critical variables: one being Sunset Shimmer’s recharge rate—everypony’s was slightly different, she’d been told—and the other being how much of a ‘charge’ Sunset Shimmer would need possessing in order to successfully teleport. While Twilight was not-at-all-anxiously waiting for Sunset Shimmer to recharge—and hooftapping yet again!—Spike figured if something didn’t distract her soon, she was gonna pop like one of Pinkie Pie’s sprinkle-covered, sugar-frosted, chocolate-glazed, vanilla custard eclair bomb pastries. “Hey,” he lightly tapped Twilight on her flank. “Huh?” Startled, she lightly jerked, almost crow-hopping in surprise and agitation before frowning. “What? What is it Spike? I’m rather busy at the moment, you know.” Fisted paws on his hips, Spike simply gave her ‘the Look’, the same one he bestowed to his Twilight when she was being stroppy. Pointing first at the still-somnolent Sunset Shimmer then next to a hipshot and dozing Magie Lumière, he returned to his patented fisted-paws-on-hips-Death-glare. “You’re driving everypony nuts,” he bluntly stated. “Including you. You’re about to explode like Twitchy Dust.” “’Twitchy Dust’?” she repeated, befuddled at the abrupt non sequitur. “And just what, pray tell, is ‘Twitchy Dust’?” And, as Spike started explaining—as he also began slyly leading her towards the balcony door, Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Twitchy Dust is a purple-colored crystal powder that explodes just by looking at it,” grinning at her pursed-lip governess expression before coming clean. “Well, Twitchy Dust isn’t exactly that bad. But the touch of a feather or a bare puff of wind will set it off with a very loud pop and a ginormous puff of purple smoke. And—” “That’s nitrogen triiodide!” she excitedly interrupted. “I’ve prepared that myself back home. It’s not very useful, though,” she admitted, “because it’s too sensitive. What do you use it for, here?” she asked, clearly enthused and curious. Looking sheepish, Spike confessed, “Mostly as something entertaining and astounding to show school colts and fillies, especially the ones in chemistry classes.” Before Twilight could—and understandably so—get the bit between her teeth, Spike gestured to the evening sky, the Sun still quite a ways above the horizon. “I thought it might be relaxing for you to see tonight’s sunset and moonrise. You’re a little tense, after all.” “You want me to see the sunset and moonrise?” Twilight blurted, voice rising towards the end. She was—finally!—having an interesting conversation, one that involved science! Why Spike thought seeing a sunset and moonrise would be more interesting to her than a conversation about chemistry, she had no idea. I mean, seriously! It’s not as if I’d never seen either before! Well, as it would subsequently turn out, she hadn’t. Not Equestrian ones, at any rate! Twilight stood there on the balcony with Spike, and while they waited she sternly frowned at him. “The Sun’s not even close to the horizon, Spike!” she grumbled. Carefully analyzing the angle between Sun and horizon, and mentally calculating…“It’s at least another forty minutes! Why are you wasting my precious time like this?” Holding up his forepaw for silence, Twilight only then noticed a familiar alicorn stepping out onto the adjacent balcony. For the next minute, Twilight stood there and, for reasons she could never explain—then, or later—did so in complete silence, while the sensation of some sort of ponderous weight looming overhead grew stronger. Without warning, Princess Luna suddenly reared, balancing on rear hooves as her wings spread wide. Horn abruptly blazing with light—and power!; Twilight had clearly sensed them both!—and then… Twilight’s world—not of the physical, tangible globe beneath her, but the stable, irrefutable realm of science, of mathematics and physics—was forever fractured. Forcing herself to remained focused on Sunset Shimmer and the Faraday cage surrounding her, Twilight’s mind kept shying away from what she had seen just an hour ago. Running counter to everything she had ever learned, had ever been taught—had ever proven by experiment after experiment—she had seen the impossible: the evening sun setting below the horizon within seconds, followed by a harvest moon rising just as quickly. Having jerked eyes away from that impossibility, she had refocused her gaze on Princess Luna, only to become as stunned as she had never before. There was a radiance surrounding Luna, an expression of such transcendence… “Magnificent,” she had whispered. “Absolutely magnificent.” Silent tears had rolled down her cheeks as she had stared at the regal figure who had just settled to her hooves. A regal figure who had then glanced her way for a moment before returning inside. Mentally shaking clear the cobwebs from her woolgathering, Twilight remained as motionless as a statue as she intently observed, sensing that the time was rapidly approaching. Nopony could believe she was standing so still, but years of unremitting study had taught her how to do so, and so nopony was aware, this time, of the anxiety ratcheting up inside her, especially since her original plan had required some minor revisions. Considering the near-riot that had arisen by the mere suggestion of Sunset Shimmer teleporting (a concept that, surprisingly, wasn’t difficult to believe in; at least, not as an abstract concept) out of the cage, Twilight was gradually accepting that perhaps—just perhaps, mind you!—there were, indeed, dangers with teleporting through objects. So, rather than Sunset Shimmer teleporting out of the cage by passing through it, she would, instead, teleport in place, winking in and out without translocating. Meanwhile, Magie Lumière would immediately dissipate that mesh the very instant Sunset Shimmer winked out. Should their timing be off the slightest, the only thing lost would be time rather than Sunset Shimmer, for if she reappeared with the cage still intact, she would not have actually passed through anything. As far as Twilight reasoned, that restriction was idiotic. Just consider the current plan: Sunset Shimmer would teleport out-and-in to the exact same spot, thereby circumventing any possibility of “passing through a solid object”, as neither the base of the cage she would be standing on, nor herself, would be moving. Except… Except they won’t be moving relative to themselves, Twilight deliberated. But planets rotate; so do their systems, and so does the galaxy they belong. If I was an outside observer, watching as Sunset Shimmer “teleported in place” the entire space/time continuum would keep moving, which would mean she’d reappear where she had been, and not where everything else now was. Science proves that! Then again, had not science repeatedly proved how planets rotated about their solar centers, with moons doing the same about their planetary centers? But that sure wasn’t what she’d observed an hour ago, was it? “I think I’m ready.” Shaking her head again, returning to the here-and-now, Twilight watched as Sunset Shimmer finished rising to her hooves. “I feel like The Great and Powerful Trixie,” she chuckled, taking a few deep breaths as she assured herself of her balance. Well, assured herself…and Twilight and Spike…and the fifteen senior physicians and Mages, who were all standing so close together in the room they resembled sardines in a can. “Who?” Twilight quizzically asked. “Trixie Lulamoon: she bills herself as “The Great and Powerful Trixie”. She’s a showpony,” she helpfully supplied. “Ah,” Twilight finally replied, her head tipped to the side for several seconds while her mind busily whirred. “I missed my chance, then, it seems.” Lightly stretching outer muscles while mentally exercising inner powers, Sunset Shimmer blinked at that. “Eh? Missed what chance?” Sixteen ponies and one small dragon stood there in complete and utter disbelief as Twilight dryly replied, “To sell entrance tickets at the gate,” as she gestured to the door behind her. Everypony held their breath as Magie Lumière silently counted down the seconds. Twilight was not sure how they had managed the feat, but somehow—and Spike swore it was possible—they had synchronized their “internal clocks” with each other and had “primed” their spells for instant activation. Which should be right…about…now. *PAMF* Prepared for it as she had tried, Twilight could not help jerking back as Sunset Shimmer just…disappeared. And she had disappeared. She had not just vanished; had not just become invisible. Twilight had been concentrating on Sunset Shimmer so intently that, somehow, someway, those new senses of hers were aware of the unicorn on an entirely different level than she had ever before experienced, and she had sensed Sunset Shimmer just…cease to be. A blinding flash of light announced the dissipation of the cage mesh… *pamf* Sunset Shimmer reappeared. Giving the audience a weak smile… Eyes rolling up in her head, she limply collapsed in a boneless heap. “How do you feel?” Groggy and weak, Sunset Shimmer muzzily gazed up at the blurry form that had just spoken. “Twi…Twilight?” she managed getting out before immediately being swarmed by the three physicians who had been standing by and keeping her under observation. “I feel fine,” Sunset Shimmer growled. “So stop with all the poking, or so help me…” “Yep; she’s feeling better,” one of the medicos dryly commented. “Seriously,” she replied as her face ignited, “I am fine. It’s Princess Celestia you should be worried about and taking care of!” “Your dedication to my sister touches my heart, Sunset Shimmer.” Every head immediately snapped towards the doorway as Princess Luna spoke. Before anypony had time to genuflect, Luna had waved a hoof in preventative dismissal. Stepping inside and pausing at Sunset Shimmer’s bedside, she first glanced at her and then at Twilight, “I don’t wish to sound ungrateful,” Luna began, “but I had thought that you had promised a cure? Sunset Shimmer still seems to be stricken.” Resisting the urge to bristle, Twilight took a deep breath, settling the mantle of her professional demeanor and detachment about her once again. “Yes, Your Highness. I had. And I have.” As Luna remained curious rather than challenging, Twilight continued. “While I don’t understand the means and methodology behind it,” she furiously blushed, hating to admit that but nevertheless it was true, “it became apparent to me that Sunset Shimmer’s internal energies—her “magic”, if you will—was not being randomly drained. She could—and was—replenishing those energies, albeit much slower than it should. And as long as she didn’t use those powers—” “Or think about using them,” one of the physicians added. “Sorry,” he apologized, which mollified Twilight. Twilight continued, explaining how she had reached the conclusion she had and the fix she had designed. “Something has obviously drained Celestia’s powers—her magic—and is continuing to do so. Sunset Shimmer had, somehow, “hooked” herself into that same connection, and as long as she remained so hooked, she activated that drain every time she touched—either by active use or passive thought—her magic. Without knowing the exact nature of that hook, I’d determined that, first by completely isolating her from external sources and, secondly, only permitting her to naturally replenish, if she teleported while still isolated within the Faraday cage, for that instant of time she would cease to exist in this space/time, and would therefore break that draining connection.” There were quite a few low murmurs, and then one of the attending physicians asked, “Twili—sorry, Miss Sparkle…why all the fuss and feathers?” gesturing to the remaining framework of the cage, “Instead of just having her teleport to begin with?” “Isolating her in this manner,” she explained, not at all flustered or bothered by the question since it was a sincere query posed by a professional in her field rather than a sneering challenge, “insulated her from that hook. As simply teleporting would have done, true. However, there was a very good chance that as soon as Sunset Shimmer would have exited the cage that that hook would simply have reengaged, as both the cage and Sunset Shimmer would have remained in the same continuum. And while teleportation, by itself, had a ninety-nine point nine-five percent chance of successfully breaking that hook…” The entire room went silent as a tomb as Twilight concluded. “Statistically speaking, there was a one hundred percent chance that while she would have had the power to initiate, and successfully teleport out…she would have also, at that moment, been instantly drained, resulting in the inability to finish teleporting back.” Gazing at the group, she finished. “Sunset Shimmer would have been lost forever.”