Applejack was the greatest chef in the world. Or, at least, she was in that particular moment—the moment in which Light experienced the bliss that was piping hot apple crumble tarts from the kitchens of Ponyville's own Sweet Apple Acres. Five minutes ago, when Light was chowing down on sweet vanilla bread with a cinnamon glaze, her answer would have been Pinkie Pie, and five minutes before that, it would have been Fluttershy with her eggplant parmesan. Regardless, Light intended to inhale everything put in front of her, and there was already enough there to make one gain ten pounds just from looking at it. Though the calories didn't concern her in the slightest; another ten pounds would still leave her underweight.
Having actual food for once proved an irresistible distraction for not only herself, but Rarity and Sweetie Belle as well, both of whom were digging in much like herself. The only one who wasn't stuffing her face was the new Twilight, who Light had asked to temporarily take up the watch in case the local version of Fluttershy tried something. Even drunk off her elation at contacting Equestria, she still had the foresight to know that she and the others wouldn't be able to concentrate on guard duties while a feast awaited them, and thus the madmare was liable to try and take advantage of their inattentiveness. Luckily, Light suspected that if Fluttershy did try anything, she wouldn't fare too well against a fit and ready Twilight backed up by herself and Rarity, who while weakened by their prolonged stay in the pocket dimension, were still no pushovers.
Light adjusted the fuel valve on one of the gas lamps they had been sent, then turned away from her meal to look through the other supplies. Perhaps it was time she start organizing all of it. After all, if they needed a first aid kit—such as was the case with Twilight's wing, an injury Light had apologized profusely for causing—they would need to find it faster than they could now with all of the stuff in one massive pile.
The amount that was sent surprised Light too. She could easily picture the version of herself still in Ponyville freaking out upon learning the truth and responding by trying to account for literally everything. There was little doubt in Light's mind that her alter ego felt like her entire world was spinning out of control, being injured and at the same time learning that she didn't exist earlier that day whilst still having to pull herself together to save her trapped past selves. That couldn't be easy, just as it hadn't been easy for Light and wasn't for the Twilight with them, who turned her head away in shame every time she saw Rarity or Sweetie Belle.
An amusing thought crossed her mind as she went through the supplies. Every one of those first aid kits had a loose clasp on the right side of the box, each of the gas lamps had two parallel scratches in the glass, and every single apple had a tiny bruise in the same place. The Twilight in Equestria had just found a bunch of things they might conceivably need, asked their friends to help make a meal for those trapped, then teleported everything back and forth a bunch of times to send them copies—far too many copies, in some cases.
If they ever found a safe and reliable way in and out of the pocket dimensions, it would open up whole new possibilities in regards to cloning and eliminating scarcity on a local scale. The teleporting spell would basically become a cloning spell, and the only thing keeping it from launching Equestria into a new golden age of excess would be the fact that the spell was so hard to learn.
Light dispelled her more theoretical notions for the time being, instead focusing on organizing the scrolls in front of her into chronological order.
The latest in that series of letters from Starlight and her other self detailed their progress in getting them out of the pocket dimension. The current theory was that with enough unicorns, they could power an overcharged detection spell right as they teleported something which would give them the location of the pocket dimension, even through dimensional barriers. The biggest problem with that was that every unicorn needed to be well-read in both detection spells and group magic, or the spell would fail. To that end, the newest Twilight had sent for aid from both the princesses and her old friends from the School for Gifted Unicorns—all except Moondancer, who was unavailable for reasons the letter did not specify.
Once the team had their transdimensional location pinned down, they would use a magical artifact to make a portal directly into the pocket dimension. If at first that didn't work, they would gather additional enchantments, magically link them together to operate as one, then try again with a much more powerful portal. If all went well, Light and the others could simply walk through into Equestria.
Light had several reservations about this plan though. The first was that the magic of the portal might be negated by the pocket dimension's magic nullifying effects. This was only a minor concern though, as she had included information on that in her original letter and the others seemed confident that using an artifact which controlled the magic from Equestria, where magic wasn't nullified, would get around this issue. After all, potions had been shown to work within the pocket dimension so long as the magical component had been activated while still in Equestria.
Light's second reservation with their plan was on the more technical side. Simply put, there were simply too many potential points of failure, too many things that could go wrong in a myriad of ways and result in unexpected setbacks of all kinds. For one, what if the pocket dimension did not exist cleanly within some kind of material plane? If its location was transient, ever-shifting, or it existed primarily in some sort of spiritual plane or even as a form of pure energy—in which case, Light's mind would only be interpreting everything as physical—then the detection spell would almost certainly fail, or at the very least, provide confusing and even incomprehensible results.
It was for this reason that Light wished she had a way of sending more than just the one message to Ponyville. She had so many questions, had so many what-ifs that she wanted to bring up and see how the others were accounting for. Alas, she was left with only what they chose to tell her. She supposed she should have been lucky to even be given that much. Technically, she didn't need to be told anything at all for the others to do their part.
Light suddenly got a tingly feeling in the back of her head. It was the feeling that she was being watched, stared at even. The kind of feeling that made her glad she had a knife sent by her Ponyville self tucked under her wing. She normally didn't have a very good sense for those kinds of things, but it was hard not to have an overactive sense of danger when one of your best friends had turned murderer in the blink of an eye.
Light glanced to Twilight. She was still alert and on guard, and had given no sign of any trouble. Feeling slightly better at seeing their strongest friend so alert and already starting to convince herself that she was just imagining it, she abruptly spun on hoof, knowing that it was better to be safe than sorry.
What she found staring back was... Rarity?
Rarity blushed at the realization that Light had noticed her, then suddenly smiled, subconsciously tightening the quilt wrapped around herself—a gift sent from the Rarity still in Ponyville via Twilight's teleportation spell. "Hello, darling. Is there something you need?"
"Uh..." Light didn't know how to respond to that statement. Wasn't this supposed to be the other way around? "I don't think so. I mean, do you need something?"
"Need? No." Rarity gave a tiny shake of her head, her smile still fixed in place. "But I was hoping to tell you something, when you weren't busy stuffing your face."
Light rolled her eyes playfully. "Hey, I think I deserve a good face-stuffing after all I've gone through to get it. Besides, it's not like you had much less."
Rarity scoffed in mock offense. "How dare you! Don't you know it's rude to ridicule a lady's eating habits?"
"Wait, what? But you just did that to me!"
"Well, then it is good we've already established that you aren't much of a lady."
Light let out a heavy sigh, remembering Rarity's earlier insult to her 'social etiquette.' "Okay, you know what? It doesn't matter. Why don't you just say whatever you wanted to tell me? Unless, of course, you were just looking for an excuse for a good mocking."
Rarity shook her head. "As much as I love watching my friends stumble their way through a bit of verbal sparring, no, that is not it. Truthfully, I just wanted to express how grateful I am for all you've done. You've been a wonderful friend, to myself and Sweetie Belle both, and we may just end up owing you our lives."
"Oh." Light's eyebrows rose in surprise, right up until she felt that familiar guilt stirring up knots in her stomach. "Uh, thanks. I'm not sure I deserve—"
"If you finish that thought," Rarity interrupted with a hard stare, "I swear I shan't give you discount prices on a dress ever again. And for that matter, neither will my double or any of my— her— our employees. I'll make sure of it. And you know why I'll be able to do that? Because I'll be free of this place, largely as a consequence of your actions."
"But—"
"Better yet," Rarity overrode Light, momentarily raising her voice, "Sweetie Belle will be free. Free and alive—both thanks in part to your efforts. So, from the very bottom of my heart, I thank you."
"Rarity..." Light sighed. "You don't—"
"Light," the unicorn cut in again, this time far gentler of tone, "this is the part where you accept my gratitude. I'll have you know that it is considered courteous."
Light barely stopped herself from sighing a second time. What had she done to deserve friends like this? Friends that were stubborn as a mule—even if the comparison would rankle this one—yet almost always used it in the very best of ways. Friends who forgave practically before the offense was finished being committed. As annoying as she found it when she disagreed with their point, it was hard not to appreciate just how remarkable the ponies in her life were. Who knew that being verbally bulldozed by Rarity could actually help lift her spirits?
"Light?"
"Uh, sorry." She gave Rarity a smile, if just because she knew that's what her friend wanted. "You're welcome. I'm glad I've had a positive impact on you, and I appreciate the kind words."
"Ah, very good. That was just marvelous." Rarity gave a quick, satisfied nod, clearly taking that for a settled matter, then turned to Twilight. "Now, you and I still have something to discuss. I won't have you avoiding interaction with me for any longer."
"Um, I can't really talk right now." Twilight shrugged without turning to face them. "I'm in the middle of something. You know, keeping watch so that we don't all die?"
"Ah, well that is somewhat understandable," Rarity conceded, "but even if you do not face me, it does not mean we cannot hold a conversation. Unless, of course, keeping watch requires the continuous use of one's mouth? No? I thought not."
Rarity removed her quilt and wrapped it around Sweetie Belle instead before trotting over to Twilight. "I think I'll just sit right here next to you, if you don't mind. Much easier than talking to the back of your head, don't you think? I can even help you keep watch. Unless, of course, you think I'll be too much of a distraction?"
"Uh, no." Twilight shook her head. "I can multitask. Wh— what do you want to talk about?"
"You're nervous to speak with me, aren't you? Understandable, I suppose. You are the one who teleported Sweetie Belle and I after all."
At the mention of that, even from behind, Light could see Twilight visibly wilt. In fact, she suspected that if Twilight had been much more brought down by that one, simple statement than she already was, she would have turned into a puddle on the floor.
"Sorry... I'm so—"
Whack!
Light and Sweetie Belle both started at the sound of Rarity's hoof connecting with Twilight's cheek, even if by her startled yet decidedly unpained reaction, it wasn't nearly as hard of a hit as it sounded.
"How dare you? Rarity scolded. "I know for a fact that you just overheard me giving Light a talking to over this whole guilt nonsense, and now you have the gall to do it too? I swear, birds of a feather you are."
"Uh, Rarity?" Light added in. "You know she and I were the same pony, right?"
"Yes, dearest Light, I am not daft. Now, I would thank you to kindly remove yourself from this conversation. Just because we are forced into close proximity, does not mean every interaction need be public, and I do have private thoughts I wish to share with Twilight here."
"Right. My apologies." Light turned to Sweetie Belle, offering her a smile and asking if the quilt was big enough to share. This prompted the filly to grin before throwing the quilt around the both of them and snuggling up against her side, an act that Light made easier by opening her wing and wrapping it around her tiny friend. Even then, she could not help but hear what Rarity was saying.
"Anyway, I wanted to thank you. You did save us from being crushed by that dastardly bookcase, after all."
"You're kidding. I think you would have preferred being hit."
"By books? Oh, no, no, no! That would have been terribly embarrassing. Besides, it might have left a scar, and that would have been a true tragedy. Worse yet, I tremble at the mere thought of what a heavy object like that could do to somepony as small as Sweetie."
"But I could have just levitated it away! Celestia, why didn't I do that?"
"Well, that solution simply lacks style. In fact, I think it downright banal compared to the spectacular poof of teleportation."
"And I think you're just looking for any excuse to let me off the hook."
"It's called positivity, darling. You should try it. I hear it does wonders for the complexion."
Light tuned out the conversation at a nudge from Sweetie Belle, instead bringing her attention to the filly. "Yes, do you need something?"
"No, you just almost poked me with this." Sweetie sheepishly raised a knife held between her hooves. The same knife Light had kept under the wing she'd wrapped around Sweetie Belle.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Light took it with her mouth and quickly buried it beneath the other wing.
"That's okay, but why do you have a knife anyway?"
"Protection." Light nodded out toward the darkness. "There may be four of us and one of her, but I want every advantage I can get. I mean, as it is, we already know she used some sort of poison weapon on Twi, along with a shiv. Best we be similarly equipped. Just in case."
"Right..." Sweetie Belle looked out into the dark, then shuddered. "Do you really think we're in that much danger?"
"Yes, of course we are. Statistically, there's always a risk," is what Light would have said, had she not seen the sudden look of fear on the poor filly. Instead, she went with, "Not so long as we're careful and alert. We'll make sure to see her coming, and without the advantage of surprise, one cannot beat four." She reached out and tilted Sweetie's muzzle toward her, meeting her eyes. "But that is why I need you to help keep a look out. Once we find a way out of here, we can get her the help she needs, but until then, we play it safe. Understand?"
"Mm-hmm." Sweetie nodded, her fear beginning to ebb away. "You can count on—"
A clatter rang out from somewhere along the side of the corpse pile, bone resounding off bone.
Sweetie Belle's hooves wrapped tight around Light's foreleg, any apparent bravery immediately vanishing in the filly. "What was that?"
Light scanned the mounds of bodies and assorted detritus for any sign of yellow and pink, her breath quickening as she failed to find anything out of the ordinary. "I don't know what it was. Could be just the bodies settling. We have added a lot of weight to the pile with all these supplies dropping in right on top of it."
"You think so?"
"Maybe, but I wouldn't bet my bits on it. Just hold on, and keep your eyes peeled."
Light turned to Twilight and Rarity, finding that they too were alert. The former was even pacing in a slow circle, carefully examining every possible approach to their position. Luckily, with them being on top of the corpse pile, where they could easily access supplies and notes sent in, the only way to reach them was to climb. That made it much harder to reach them quietly, given all the things one would have to step in on the way up, and gave a certain high-ground advantage to any defenders. The flipside of that was that an attack could come from any direction, and with the gas lamps burning, their eyes were no longer as well adjusted to the darkness surrounding them. Lighting those had been a mistake borne from over-eagerness, Light was sure of that now.
Twilight stopped pacing, turning to face the others. "There's nothing there. Not that I can see from here, anyway. Maybe I should go down and take a look around. The rest of you can stay here and keep a lookout."
"NO!" Light, Rarity, and Sweetie Belle all cried out at once.
Twilight stepped back in shock. "What? I'll be careful. Besides, I'm fitter than her. I'm sure I'll manage just fine."
"Ugh," Sweetie Belle groaned. "Do you even realize what you're saying? Splitting up is always bad for the heroes. It's in, like, every story. Ever."
"I'm not sure that we count as 'heroes.' Just survivors."
"Definitely heroes," Rarity threw in. "'Survivors' doesn't have the same ring to it. Besides, everypony knows that heroes get happily ever afters, while survivors get nothing more than a 'final filly.'"
"You know," Light huffed, "if you all would stop caring about bad story tropes, I could give an actual reason why you shouldn't go down there. Namely, that it could be a trap. For all we know, she intentionally made that noise in order to draw us out. I mean, it's been at least a few days and we haven't seen a glimpse of her. She's clearly been very careful, so why make such a clatter now?"
"Look," Twilight sighed wearily, "as valid as that point is, we don't even know for sure if Fluttershy means us any harm. Yes, the evidence clearly indicates that she murdered your friend, Twi, but that doesn't indicate a desire to do the same to the rest of us. Now, I'm not defending her actions by any means—what she did was clearly despicable—but she may just be hiding out of fear of facing up to what she did. Until we find her, we won't know for sure. Either way, if we want to help her, and ensure she can't hurt anypony else, we'll need to find her first."
"No," Light said. "Nopony is going down there, and that's final. When Starlight and the new Twilight find a way to us—and they will, because they have to—we can tear this place apart looking for her, but not one second earlier. We aren't taking risks, not when we're this close to rescue. Agreed?"
Twilight sighed. "Fine. We'll wait here until she's too weary of eating rotten meat and drinking poorly filtered blood. You know that, with all these supplies sitting here, we're basically forcing her to attack us, right?"
"Um," Sweetie Belle started, "but that won't happen if we throw some stuff down for her, right?"
"Bad idea," Light quickly cut in before anypony could support the notion. "We do that, and she'll grow stronger off our food. If there ever is a confrontation, we want her as weak as possible."
Sweetie frowned, disheartened at being so swiftly shut down. Light immediately felt guilty for her lack of tact but was relieved to see the filly reassured after just a few of her sister's words whispered into one ear.
"I don't know, Light," Twilight said, breaking any hope Light had of avoiding intra-group conflict. "Refusing to help a starving pony? That sounds pretty callous to me. She's clearly very mentally ill, but that doesn't mean we should leave her to rot. I, for one, like Sweetie Belle's idea."
"At least somepony agrees with me," Sweetie Belle muttered. "Hmm, maybe we could put it to a vote!"
"No," Light said. "There are an even number of us. It wouldn't work."
"Not if we only count adult votes," Twilight added. "You and I have our minds made already, leaving the decision in Rarity's hooves."
"I'm afraid that would not go in your favor, darling," Rarity breathed before giving a concerned look to their left and right. "Perhaps somepony would like to stop arguing long enough to realize that we no longer have anypony on watch, hmm?"
"Ponyfeathers!" Light shouted as she spun around and scanned the darkness, the others doing the same thing in the remaining directions.
When not a one of them spotted a thing out of place, they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Though, after that scare, they decided they could all keep watch as they talked and continued to eat some of the fresh food.
A few moments passed before Rarity cleared her throat. "Ahem, Twilight dear, before all of that ruckus just now, I believe you were telling me something of keen interest. Perhaps you would like to finish your thought?"
"Hmm? Oh, right!" Twilight exclaimed. "I was apologizing for teleporting that snake. I'm really am so sorry for—"
"Not that, featherbrain. I am clearly referring to your explanation on why you teleported such a thing."
"Oh. That." Twilight nodded, though Light could only see the gesture from out of the corner of her vision, given that she was still focused on keeping watch. "Trixie asked me to teleport it. Her own teleportation spells were failing, and she said Starlight was busy—though I'm not sure that was the case, since I saw her later that day. Apparently, the serpent was for some kind of magic trick, and she wanted my help practicing. Since I'd never seen its like before, I asked where it came from. She claimed it was safe, and that she bought it off some thestral merchant from the jungles of Tzinacatlia. I'll admit though, even at the time, it seemed like a bit of a flimsy story to me. A batpony near Ponyville would definitely have set the town talking. I only helped her anyway because she seemed desperate to get practicing, and I figured there was no harm in it. Clearly, I was wrong."
"Well, you couldn't have known," Rarity said softly. "It seems we will have to ask Trixie some questions once we get out of here though."
"Yeah. She's a bit too oafish to have intentionally caused harm in this way, especially since she couldn't possibly have known about this place, but that doesn't mean her intentions were in any way honest or pure. I'll have to ask Starlight about it too, see if she knows—"
A blur passed in the corner of Light's vision. Twilight's voice came to a sudden stop. A crack was followed by the squelch of flowing blood.
Time slowed, and Light could do nothing but turn and stare in horror.
The sharpened bone that had pierced directly into Twilight's skull, striking between the eyes with half its length still sticking out the front of her head, was of Light's own making. One of the many large darts she'd used to practice. Practice striking at the very same pony this one had just taken.
A scream resounded through their prison at length. A monster rose from among the corpses.
For all Light could tell, that monster was a corpse itself—death given life. Blood and entrails soaked its flesh, bits of bone jutted out from scattered wounds, and its mane was a scraggly mess. Though Light could hardly name it anything other than abomination, she knew the truth. It was all an elaborate camouflage.
That thing was Fluttershy.
The specter of death rushed forward, a femur made cudgel clutched in blackened teeth.
Light brought her knife up, caught off guard yet determined to put up a fight.
But Fluttershy was fast. Unbelievably so.
The monstrous pony bounded up the corpses between them like they were nothing, charging right at her without a care for the blade.
When Light's knife pierced seemingly rotten hide, Fluttershy didn't even flinch. Instead, all she did was bring that cudgel down.
Bone filled Light's vision. Aim unerring, straight for the forehead.
The last thing she heard was somepony screaming in terror—Rarity or Sweetie Belle, she didn't know.
And then everything... became nothing.