//------------------------------//
// It's Been too Long (Sparkle Census, Part 1) 
// Story: The League of Sweetie Belles 
// by GMBlackjack 
//------------------------------//

Stars whizzed by as little streaks of light, each insignificant speck holding planets and all the inhabitants of those planets knew. And yet, each of them—each filled with their own story, struggles, and history—was passed by in an instant, scarcely even looked upon. All they needed was a quick sweep to scan the system and their mission was complete. 

And to think, this was just one universe. When compared to the immense majesty of all existence, even all of these stars collectively might as well have been nothing. 

These thoughts would have been poetic and thought provoking had Celia not been  thinking them for two solid weeks. Now they were just boring. Booooring. There was only so much existentialism she could take before it became normal. 

Maybe it was just because she was a Gem, but she was getting a little sick of it all. 

“I sure do love scanning star systems,” Squiddy whined from behind Celia’s position in Swip’s captain’s chair. 

“Mini-adventure,” Burgerbelle sighed. “In and out, they said…”

“We know these scanning operations take a while,” Nira said. “Furthermore, we all know why we’re here.” 

“That explosion wasn’t our fault!” Squiddy blurted. 

“Granted. But we needed to be made scarce for a few days.”

“It’s been weeks.” Squiddy crossed her arms and swiveled around in her chair, letting her tentacles flop around. “We could go back. There’d be no problems. No alligator people trying to eat us.”

“We are not leaving the mission incomplete!” Seren huffed. “We do our jobs here, Sweeties!”

“We can do it!” Burgerbelle cheered, flexing her muscles behind Seren. 

Squiddy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guess. …Can’t believe Blink got out of this.”

“She had vacation time saved up,” Celia reminded her. “And she knows how to make herself scarce.” Slowly, she rubbed the back of her head. “…Unlike most of us.”

“You did lose most of your stealthy tendencies when you fused,” Nira admitted. 

“Absolutely,” Celia nodded, teleporting a fried chicken wing from her quarters and biting into it, spraying crumbs all over the captain’s console. At this point everyone was used to her messy eating habits; Swip didn’t even complain about her getting crumbs everywhere. “So, uh… everyone’s clearly bored.”

“I’m not!” Swip said. 

“You get to actually process all the scans, dear. You see everything.” 

Seren raised a hand. “I can translate the raw data a—“

Celia facehoofed.

“Right, right… heheh…” Seren smiled awkwardly. “How about instead of examining scans of gas giant eleven-thousand two-hundred and sixty-four, we go play a game or something? We’ve got the VR headsets set up.”

“VR is dull compared to real life,” Squiddy grumbled. 

Swip let out an undignified gasp and summoned her avatar onto the main screen. “What!? What!? Am I chopped liver?”

Burgerbelle looked up from a Swip-shaped piece of liver she was chopping up. 

“Not one word out of you,” Swip threatened. 

“Two words.”

Sweetaloo let out a whistle from her seat in the back, scribbling a few things on a data pad with a stylus. 

Swip appeared on the screen closest to the mini-alicorn. “What’s that, got some juicy dirt on us?”

“Oh, always,” Sweetaloo said. “For the most part the news is good though, so…”

“I thought we were all off our rockers?” Celia asked.

“Well… yes. But…” She smiled apologetically. “You’re all actually faring pretty well with this break. Boredom is doing you all some good.” 

Squiddy flopped her face onto her console. She mumbled something while pointing at her head. 

“Yes, Squiddy, even your lamenting whines are a good sign. You’re making a remarkable recovery and are expressing yourself much like you used to. And the rest of you too… all this bridge banter with nothing life-threatening is great.”

“Thanks,” Burgerbelle said. “I hate it.”

“Healing isn’t always pleasant,” Sweetaloo said. 

“No, I suppose not…” Celia mused, taking a moment to glance at the purple flecks in her crystal. 

“We’re not done yet, though,” Seren said. “There’s still one thing missing.”

“Ah…” Celia saw her meaning immediately, and her thoughts turned to a certain Sweetie with fiery eyes that no one had seen in several months. She knew, deep down, that she was still out there… somewhere. 

“It’s been too long,” Burgerbelle said. 

Celia looked up with a raised brow. “Hmm?”

“It wasn’t supposed to take this long. But…” Burgerbelle pulled out a white hourglass and started turning it over and over in her hands. “There was an impostor among us.”

Celia rolled her eyes. “Right… Maybe not call her that when sh—“

“Incoming message,” Swip interrupted. “Starlight Shadow, video. It’s a recording—we’re too far away for live feed.”

Putting on a confident smirk, Celia swiveled her chair forward. “Onscreen, my good ship.”

A video of Starlight Shadow appeared on the screen. The wallpaper behind her was composed of a repeated line of stylized star cutie marks reminiscent of the night sky: an obvious sign of being in the Sparkle Census. The complicating factor was that the force field and the flat bed indicated she was in some kind of holding cell. In the background, they could see Insipid passed out and snoring lightly. 

“I’ll make this quick,” Shadow said in her usual slightly-impatient-with-existence tone. “Yes, we got arrested. No, we don’t need you to come and save us, because as much as I hate to admit it, we were sticking our noses where they didn’t belong. I suspect Renee is going to give us a deviously legalistic monologue about espionage ethics. Foreseeing this, I realize that she is not going to be of any help with the other situation.” She lifted her head back. “I need someone to investigate the Sparkle Census. There is a large secret that has sent the population into a nervous scramble. And yet, they refused to give me any information, despite being a member of their Census and a respected Merodi agent. And when we investigated, we were detained, as you can plainly see.”

“For such a genius, you think she’d have seen that coming,” Nira commented. 

“As previously mentioned, Renee will not assist us since we are ‘in the doghouse,’ as it were. Thus, I must come to you for assistance. Surely you can spare some time to uncover what has the Sparkle Census so… anxious?” With a nod from Shadow, the video cut out. 

Celia nodded slowly as Swip appeared back on the main screen. “Swip, are we on course for the Sparkle Census yet?”

“Already jumping dimensions, we’ll be there within the hour,” Swip said. 

“Good.” Celia sat back in the chair, smirking. “We’ll come back to our scanning mission once we investigate this tip from a reliable source.”

“And what if we get thrown in jail for poking around?” Nira asked. 

Celia glanced to Burgerbelle. “Why, we won’t. Because we’re going to march right up to their council of purple brainiacs with a founder of the League of Sweetie Belles and request answers.”

“And if there’s nothing for us to find?”

“Burgerbelle looks like an idiot.”

“I do that really well!” Burgerbelle cheered. 

Celia waggled her eyebrows. “Precisely why this plan has no drawbacks!”

Squiddy frowned. “On one hand, we’re scanning stars and doing nothing else at the moment. On the other, every time we go to the Sparkle Census, bureaucracy ensues. I hate paperwork.”

“Oh, stop complaining,” Seren huffed. “We’re getting back to it! Finally!”

Sweetaloo chewed the end of her pencil. “Hmm. Well, now’s as good of a time as any for the rest of you to get back at it. Time to see if you all can handle it.”

“By the way, you’re coming with us,” Celia said.

“W-what?”

“It’s the first time we’ve been out in a while. It would be only proper for us all to go.”

Sweetaloo looked like she wanted to object, but couldn’t think of a good reason. “You’re the captain.”

“Yes. Yes I am.” Celia smiled. “…And I guess it’s gonna stay that way, now.”


~~~


Sunset’s Isekai had gotten rather busy, as of late. Isekai suspected it had to do with all those Merodi who kept suggesting her humble establishment as a great place to get away from it all. She saw a lot more than just random travelers these days—and a lot more than just Merodi agents as well. Her customers ranged from the usual ponies, to entities made entirely of stars, to honestly rather disturbing hive-mind creatures, to the occasional eldritch monstrosity that the bar decided wasn’t dangerous. 

She did secretly wish that the bar would warn her when some spawn of Tzeentch was about to walk through the door for a drink, but it didn’t. Maybe it had a sense of humor. Scratch that, it definitely had a sense of humor, but the jury was still out on if it was sapient or not. Rarity was strangely quiet on that point. 

Today, Isekai was lucky enough to have only a few patrons, including one that had been showing up a lot more frequently than was probably healthy. None other than Cryo “Sweetie” Belle, who had taken to arriving, ordering a root beer, and then downing it like she could somehow feel alcohol content within it. Isekai only saw Cryo once every week or so, but given the time drift, a lot less time was happening on Cryo’s end. Isekai had done some quick math in her head a while back, determining that Cryo had to be coming in at least once a day from her perspective, possibly more. 

Unfortunately, and to Isekai’s internal dismay, there was nothing she could do for the filly with iced eyes. Sure, she could talk, and she regularly got Cryo to open up—but the filly wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t do anything about it. Because she was waiting. 

Waiting for a certain Sweetie to come back. 

“You know…” Isekai said, pouring her another mug of root beer. “I’m sure you could…”

“Could what?” Cryo asked, laying her head on the bar sideways. “Go out and adventure? Already did that. Go out and help people? Did that too.” She lazily plopped a straw in the mug and slurked at it. “Didn’t last very long.”

“Cryo, everyone just had life catch up with them.”

“Everyone has a life to catch up to them. I’m just ice-anime-filly. And even that’s kinda been taken from me.” She clicked her tongue, thinking for a moment. “I did call Mattie yesterday. Know what she told me? ‘That team was a fad, mate.’ “

“That… doesn’t sound like her.”

“I’m translating,” Cryo admitted. “But still…” She sat back. “I wasn’t really cut out for that anyway. Couldn’t keep the team together.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Didn’t say it was. It just… happens. Unless you’ve got some big bunch of destiny behind you, ponies drift away. And ever since Cinder vanished, my connection to destiny went with it.” She frowned. “She’s got to come back at some point, and I still want to be around when she does.”

Isekai tilted her head. “Do you… really want that? To continue being her ‘nemesis?’ ”

“Not really,” Cryo admitted. “I got that forcefully beaten out of me. It’s just… I don’t know.” She took a moment to drink some more, pausing as the bubbles danced in her mouth. “I mean something when she’s around.”

“You defined yourself by her.”

“Yep.” She leaned back, cupping the root beer between her hooves. “My mistake.” 

Isekai leaned in. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.” Cryo tossed the mug back and forth between her hooves. “And I am doing things when I’m not here. But it’s all… how do I describe feeling like my life is stuck on the pause menu?”

Isekai smirked. “You’ve done it a few times.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cryo broke into a smile. “I just hope it gets unpaused soon. I’m starting to nut up.”

“To everyone else, you seem to have mellowed out a lot.”

“What point is there to being over-the-top if there’s nothing to be over-the-top about?”

Isekai raised an eyebrow. “You’re sitting in an interdimensional bar. The fact that you don’t think this is over-the-top is alarming.”

“What? I’m here all the time. You don’t think it’s over the top.”

Something exploded at one of the tables, sending green bubbles into the air, all of which spoke in an ancient tongue the universal translator spell couldn’t parse. Wordlessly, Isekai pulled out what looked like a blue fire extinguisher and pointed it at the bubbles. There was a boing noise and all the bubbles transformed into little strawberries, falling back into the drink of an eyeball creature that didn’t even appear to have a mouth. 

“What kind of drink was that?” Cryo asked. 

Isekai shrugged. “It’s not pronounceable to water-protein lifeforms. Which you and I are.”

“Huh. Can I have some?”

“No, you’re underage.”

“Aww,” she put on an exaggerated pouty face. 

Isekai smiled at her. She’s not given up on herself yet. She just… needs something to happen. I wish she’d do it before Cinder comes back, though. She needs to stand on her own. 


~~~


Swip opened the final portal, cutting into the skies of the Sparkle Census’ primary universe, a large place that had an obsession with libraries. Libraries everywhere. The book-centered buildings outnumbered every other kind of structure with ease, including residential. And while the Census appeared as an endless city under a perpetually creamy sky, it didn’t look overrun or unnatural—it was organized in such a way that it flowed like the stream of a river or the leaves of a plant. A very dense plant, admittedly. 

There was also a lot of purple. Because if there is one thing Twilights are, it’s purple. Really, really purple. 

Swip flew through the skies, coming to a rest at one of the many ship docks that rose above the rest of the sprawling civilization. After transmitting their League transponder, they were cleared for landing. 

That said, the Sweeties still had to sign forms upon arrival, because of course they did. The Twilights were thorough with their documentation, though as of late they were being convinced to swap out paper for digital legal documents. The “excellent feel” of parchment was a rather moot point when none of the Twilights really enjoyed legal inefficiency either. 

But, in the end, Celia, Burgerbelle, Squiddy, Seren, Nira, and Sweetaloo were all cleared to wander the Census freely. 

“Right, first thing’s first…” Celia grabbed a stick of fried meatballs from a confectionary stall run by a Twilight cat. “Food.” She paid the cat almost as an afterthought. 

“You done?” Nira asked.

“Nope.” Celia dug into the meatballs. “Have to savor the local cuisine...” After eating the second meatball in one bite, she started walking off to the Council Hall. “So, Burgerbelle, I assume you have your ID?”

Burgerbelle pulled out a leather wallet and immediately dropped it, spilling cards all over the place. 

“Glad to see it,” Celia said.

Squiddy picked up one of the cards off the ground. “…This is my Bradburger Bingo card.” Squiddy glared at Burgerbelle. “Did you steal it?”

Burgerbelle shrugged, prompting Seren to giggle. 

“I’m curious,” Nira said, turning to Sweetaloo while gesturing at Burgerbelle. “Do you even have a psych profile on her?”

Sweetaloo let out a laugh that quickly devolved into a sigh. “Yes.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s worse than that. Trust me.”

Celia continued nibbling on her snack while they approached the Council Hall, a large marble building that stood atop a hill of stairs carved in such a way to ring around the structure. Twilights were constantly running in and out of it, a crowd of never-ending lavender.

At this point, Celia was confident that Shadow hadn’t just been seeing things with that paranoid mind of hers. The Twilights really were running around in a panic. If it had been one or two, she wouldn’t have paid it any mind—Twilights were neurotic enough that any large gathering of them always had a few panicking at any given time. 

But this was more than that. More than half of them were running around at top speed, eyes darting around left and right. The closer they got to the Council Hall, the worse it got, to the point at which every Twilight was scrambling with wide eyes. 

Celia was about to stop one of them when one of them stopped her. 

“Don’t ask anypony,” the Twilight—a unicorn—said as though it were an order. 

Celia huffed. “I’m sorry, the purple flecks must have made you think I was a Twilight.”

“I’m serious. We can’t tell you. And you have the eyes of someone who wants to find out. You’ll ask questions.”

“Ahem,” Burgerbelle said, taking out a crusader shield emblem. “Ba-boom, Burgerbelle, League Founder.”

“Sassafras,” the Twilight growled. 

Celia scratched her chin. “As I recall the MU—SC treaty establishes a sharing of information. Unless you plan on declaring this a state secret a—“

“Your government already knows,” the Twilight interrupted. “Look, just… how many of you have the equivalent of Security Level 5?”

Celia raised a hoof and Burgerbelle raised a hand. 

“Fine then, just you two. Rest of you, uh, the local library has a nice café. Take a break. While you can.”

“…Ominous,” Sweetaloo observed.

“Of course I’m being ominous, th—“ the Twilight stopped herself. “Look, I have places to be, just… go.” She scrambled down the steps, letting out a stressed whine as she galloped into the distance. 

“Well…” Celia pursed her lips. “Shall we cure our curiosity, Burger?”

Burgerbelle tested herself with a stethoscope. “Yeah!”

“And the standing orders for the rest of you…” Celia looked over the other four Sweeties. “Find something entertaining to do for the next little while, adventure might drop into your lap, or something. That usually happens to us.”

“Aye-aye,” Seren said with a salute. 

“Good!” With a reciprocated salute she turned and ran up the stairs. Burgerbelle followed her, moving like a domino that kept falling over and standing up repeatedly. 

Before they reached the top, a unicorn Twilight was tossed down the steps. She was in a very familiar outfit to most Twilgihts—a black “sneaky” suit that was heavily scuffed and damaged, indicative of a unicorn that was having a stressful encounter with time shenanigans. To add to her “dangerous” look, her manestyle was that of a pre-reformation Starlight Glimmer. 

“You can’t keep your secrets forever!” the Twilight shouted at the ponies at the top of the stairs. They were ignoring her. “I will find out, one way or another! You can bet your horns on it!” She let out an annoyed grunt and stormed down the stairs, shooting Celia a death glare as she passed. 

“I hope we have better luck,” Celia said, clicking her tongue. They made their way up the rest of the stairs, arriving at the main doors, both Sweeties smiling in a way that was somehow both friendly and ominous.

The Twilight at the doors fixed them with a very, very nervous smile. “O-oh! Uh… Sweeties! I’m sorry w—“

Burgerbelle produced a hamburger and munched on it. “Clearance, baby.”  

“Oh… uh…” She pulled two data pads out and handed them over. “Fill out these forms and we’ll make sure everything’s in order.”

“Nothing’s ever quick…” Celia grumbled, taking the pad in her magic, beginning to enter information. 


~~~


CP had to call herself Cei these days, because someone pointed out that if she didn’t want to be known as the Crown Princess she probably shouldn’t walk around with an abbreviation of it as her name. It had taken a while to break her down, but recently she had. Now the battle was constant to get everyone to forget she was ever the Crown Princess. It was slow going. 

Today, Cei traveled in a standard Starfleet issue Runabout—a sleek little ship that had been vastly improved from previous models by interdimensional technology. Most of the Capra Coalition’s ships were crafted by Starfleet these days, giving the association a generally unifying ship design. It made everyone feel a little more like one complete entity, even though they still insisted upon remaining legally distinct. 

Not that Cei had any issue with this. It was what she had insisted upon when she first started this, all those years ago. Though the last few months she’d been a little disappointed by how openly hostile they were to other multiversal societies, she supposed she only had herself to blame for that. 

How far I’ve come… Cei thought, sitting back in the chair as the stars whizzed by on the main windshield. She glanced at the crown sitting on her head, gems glinting in the artificial light. Angry warmonger to… I don’t know but I sure like this better. 

The computer beeped, informing her that she was almost at her destination. 

She sat up tall, stretching her hardlight wings and setting her jaw. Usually, when she traveled in this area of space, she got excited. However, this time, it was different. She had been asked to come alone, and secretly—without Erin, TwilAi, or Puppysmiles. Which meant it was something important. 

The Runabout dropped out of warp, drifting toward its destination: the Federation’s frontier space station Deep Space Nine. It was a large, city-sized structure composed of a large outer ring with several paths that led to an inner hub of activity complete with a well lit and bustling promenade. Overall, it had an unusually harsh and predatory appearance, much of which came from the six curved pylons that reached inward from the outer ring, providing more locations for ships to dock. Speaking of, numerous ships of all sorts of designs flitted to and from the station, including those from distant nations in the universe that had nothing to do with the Capra Coalition. 

The majority of the ships were brown and vaguely triangular, of the Bajoran style. They were a world only accepted into the Federation a few years ago, but already they were a very influential member—and had shaped galactic politics since before contact with the rest of the multiverse was officially made.

And Cei couldn’t help but like them. 

The Runabout docked at the outer edge of Deep Space Nine, drifting right into one of the station’s bays since it was small enough to fit within the outer ring. The station’s bay doors closed and sealed her ship inside. Soon, atmosphere was established, and Cei was able to walk out into the station proper. 

Despite being in the middle of the Bajoran system, the station had not been built by them. While many consoles had Bajoran and Federation-standard designs, they were smooth and elegant constructions that did not quite fit with the nature of the rest of the station. For it had been built by the militant Cardassians long, long ago, when they tried to conquer Bajor and failed. Even now, all these decades later, their writing and designs still dominated the screens around this docking bay. 

Good thing this bay wasn’t where people spent most of their time. 

Cei left the bay and met her reception—two Starfleet security officers in their yellow uniforms, and a single woman Cei recognized. The woman was a strong, but older Bajoran with the signature wrinkled nose of her species. She wore a Starfleet communications badge on her chest, though she had no Starfleet uniform, instead choosing to wear the religious robes of her faith. 

Cei grinned. “Vedek Kira Nerys! It is a pleasure, as always.”

“Crown Princess.” Cei was careful not to flinch at the use of her old title—Kira wouldn’t know, and now was not the time for petty corrections. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but we’ve got unfortunate news.”

“Unfortunate secret news.”

“Precisely,” Kira said with a curt nod. “It is best not to discuss it here. Walk with me to my office, would you?”

Cei didn’t complain. They walked down the main connecting hall from the outer ring to the center of the Station; a rather boring journey, all things considered. It wasn’t until they came to the promenade that everything lit up. A gear-shaped airlock door rolled to the side, allowing them entry to a wondrous and lively world. 

It truly was a community. Creatures of all sort walked around to and fro, ranging from humanoid to pony to some even more unusual creatures. And there was something special about this Station when compared to places like Celestia City or the Capra Coalition’s Hub. Here, the people weren’t all from one unified alliance. The majority were Capra Coalition, sure, but a large number were from unaligned nations such as the Romulans, Ferengi, and strange humanoid cats from that one universe Cei could never find. 

Cei thought she liked this better than anything else she’d seen. Here, for once, there was no oppressive power trying to forcefully adapt everything into its fold—but it also avoided the borderline xenophobic trend the Capra Coalition was developing. This station was what Cei had sought to build, and she’d had basically nothing to do with it. 

It was poetic justice, in a way. 

The Station was more than just a frontier meeting place for many races, it was also a holy site for the Bajorans. This was easy to see along the upper level of the promenade—statues of a bald human man ringed the entire area, a powerful bearded face looking out on the people below. In each statue’s hand was a box with two sparkling cabochons nested in them. 

“Anything on Sisko?” Cei asked Kira as they walked past the statues. 

“No.” Kira paused the look out the window, frowning. “The Prophets have chosen to keep their Emissary…” As she looked out the window, a brilliant vortex of blue energy appeared among the stars, allowing a Federation starship to fly in and vanish. “Somewhere in there… he’s learning.”

“…I still don’t understand why you don’t just go in there and—“

“Faith, Cei.” 

“Doesn’t mean I understand it.” She looked up at Kira, tilting her head. “Do you miss it?”

“Hmm?”

“Going out there. Being… I don’t know, adventurous. Being the Captain.”

“I had my run as the Captain,” Kira said. “But my place is here, at this station. Be that as a Colonel, Captain, or Vedek, it doesn’t matter. I watch this place for Sisko and the Prophets.” She forced a smile. “We should keep moving.”

Cei nodded, making a note not to stop at Quark’s bar as they passed overhead. They entered a turbolift and went up several levels until they came to Operations. While the promenade looked like a mixture between a religious shrine and marketplace, Operations was all business. People in Starfleet uniforms scrambled from console to console, running scans, performing docking checks, and numerous other tasks. A few others wore robes similar to Kira—including a few non-Bajorans—but they were in the minority. 

Kira led Cei up a half-flight of stairs into her office, which contained a smooth desk, a small computer, and a little stand with a dirty baseball. A baseball that had once belonged to one Captain Benjamin Sisko, Emissary of the Prophets. 

Kira sat in the chair behind the desk and tossed the baseball into the air. She gestured for Cei to have a seat in front of her. 

“So… what’s the situation?” Cei asked. 

“I consulted the Orb of Prophecy recently,” Kira said, folding her hands together. “It showed me a great plague of blue insects devouring planets and stars, all in pursuit of some unidentifiable black object.”

Cei shuffled her hooves—she knew Bajorans generally considered it taboo to talk of Orb Experiences so directly. This must have been serious. 

“I consulted with the Kai and the Vedek Assembly on the point, and we submitted a report to the Capra Coalition’s central ‘command.’ “

“As much as we have something like that.”

Kira nodded. “It took far too long to get through. But once it did, they were able to figure out what it meant.” Kira turned her computer around, showing Cei the screen. It currently displayed a zoomed out map of the Q-Sphere, with the Capra Coalition, Merodi Universalis, and the other local societies reduced to little more than points on the overall map. The feature the map focused on was a long, winding snake of blue rising from the “south” of the map, pointing directly at the Capra Coalition and the other societies. 

“What… is that?”

“The Beyonders,” Kira said, folding her hands together. 

Cei froze. “Wh-what? What’s a Class 1 society doing with…” She shook her head, looking away to process the information. “…What are they doing?”

“Beyonders can’t survive in normal physics, so they’re converting the worlds to suit them.”

“I know that!” Cei snapped, getting up from her chair and starting to pace. “But they expand in a spherical pattern, not a line. There has to be some reason…”

“We don’t know. We know that they’re coming. And it’s very likely they’re going to pass through our universes on the way.”

“H-how do we know this? And why aren’t we preparing for large-scale evacuations!?”

Kira sat back, frowning. “You’re not going to like this.”

“I already don’t like this!” 

Kira pressed a button on her computer, activating the comm. network. “You can come in now.”

With a burst of purple magic a very familiar face revealed itself—TwilAI, smiling nervously. 

Cei blinked. “She told me not to bring you.”

“That’s because I asked her to say that to alleviate suspicion,” TwilAI said. “Because we need to keep this quiet. As far as anyone is concerned, there are no AI ponies on this station.”

Cei sat back down in her chair. “So… how about answering my questions?”

“Gladly! We know about the Beyonders because of CelestAI’s Deep Multiverse Probe Project, or DMPP. It provides the Capra Coalition with base intelligence about many worlds without revealing our presence.”

“I know about that.” Cei frowned, glancing at the map. “It extends that far?”

“Yep! It’s been very successful. However it’s spread a bit thin so it doesn’t exactly know what to report on, since something interesting happens at virtually all times. Even CelestAI can’t parse everything it reports back, not while running Equestria Online, anyway. So we have to query it with specific questions. Once we plugged in the prophecy Kira received, we were able to pinpoint the Beyonder activity, and over time we were able to get a clearer and clearer picture.”

Cei blinked. “I’m…  not sure that makes sense. I thought she could process anything?”

“I am oversimplifying,” TwilAI admitted. “But trust me, that’s more or less how it worked.”

Well, I do trust her. Cei nodded slowly. “Fair.”

“As for why we’re not evacuating…” TwilAI shook her head. “Well, it’s because it wouldn’t do anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“It takes energy to move large objects across the multiverse quickly,” TwilAI explained. “And while we do possess stellar engineering technology, it only really acts over the course of many years. We have days, maybe less.”

Cei paled. “…What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, even assuming maximum energy efficiency, we would not be able to move far enough away to escape the Beyonder fallout. Given the margin of error on their projected path, it’s very possible that we end up moving closer to them, rather than away. From a purely logistical standpoint our best bet is literally to stay still and hope they veer away from us.”

“And they don’t want people panicking or screaming at them,” Kira pointed out. 

“Precisely,” TwilAI agreed. “The Capra Coalition as a whole decided to keep this threat a secret and hope we don’t fall apart, because there’s nothing we can do to impede the Beyonders or even talk to them.”

Cei sighed. “I know. Violent warmongers that make Klingons look downright cuddly. Conquest is their thing. Not even the Merodi could attempt to stand up to them.”

“That’s not exactly true,” TwilAI said. “There’s more than just logistical considerations. There’s the Tower. And, using what we know about it, our projections are fairly certain the Beyonders are going to hit us—even if we were to execute an evacuation. There’s no escape. Unless…” She fixed Cei with a serious stare. “We have a hero of some kind.”

“Ah.” Cei tapped the tips of her wings together. “So that’s why I’m here.”

“The Capra Coalition, as a whole, did not approve of the ‘get a hero’ plan,” Kira said. “I wanted to tell you first thing, but I kept shut until TwilAI approached me.”

“Great, so I’m here to be the hero.” Cei sighed. “Not my first choice, but I guess it’ll work. Do we have a plan?”

Kira and TwilAI glanced at each other with uncertainty. 

“…We don’t have a plan, do we?”

“Well… no,” TwilAI said. “We’re banking on ka acting upon this situation we’ve created to produce a ‘third option.’ I was honestly hoping you’d have some idea, that would have been the simplest.”

Cei stood up, frowning. “Right now, I’ve got nothing. I’ll let you know if I think of something after a few drinks at Quark’s bar.” She grimaced. “I’ll try to think quickly.”

“Don’t send out any messages if you can help it,” Kira said. “We may be out on the frontier here, away from regulation, but if word were to get back that we told you any of this…”

“I get it, I get it.” Cei hung her head. “…Thanks, TwilAI. For going out on a limb to do this. To do… something.”

“Go,” Kira said. “We’ll be here.”

“Do whatever you need,” TwilAI added.

I have the distinct feeling it won’t be something I’ll like. 


~~~


Sweetaloo watched as her crew strode around the Sparkle Census, chatting amongst themselves like a bunch of tourists. 

“They really need to paint this place more colors,” Seren as they strode down a street lined with various storefronts. “They have the technology, where are all the bright neon signs? The vibrant holograms? They’re everywhere in Celestia City. This place is…”

“Organized,” Nira finished for her. “It may look like chaos, but everything follows a clear pattern and one that can be understood somewhat intuitively—if you’re a purple bookhorse.”

“I know that but… surely it could be more colorful!”

“Purple’s just obnoxious,” Squiddy said. “So they chose a neutral unifying color. They’re not Pinkie or Rainbow, they wouldn’t splash neon colors everywhere.”

Seren scratched her chin. “Hey… I know we have a Pinkie Emporium, but is there a Rainbow Dash self-society?”

Squiddy blinked. “I don’t think so. Huh. You think those ego-centric adrenaline junkies would love each other…”

“Pride gets in the way,” Nira added. “Think about it… if you’re always comparing yourself to yourself you never look awesome.”

Seren giggled. “And a Rainbow Dash without awesome isn’t a Rainbow Dash at all!”

“Good thing I’m not Rainbow Dash,” Squiddy said, jumping on top of a bench shaped like a book. “I’m awesome all on my own! Yeah!”

Seren’s giggles turned into outright laughter, and she clapped her hands excitedly at the posing Squiddy. Nira rolled her eyes—but smiled and clapped her hooves together as well. 

Sweetaloo observed the three of them, a proud smile crawling up her face. Despite everything that’s happened… just look at them. They’ve had their leader taken from them, their innocent friend, and have been through hell and back. But they always bounce back. 

By no means were the Sweeties sane, but you couldn’t be in this line of work. It took a little madness to plunge into the unknown and to keep doing it, again and again, delving deeper and deeper until existence slapped back. And then keep going. 

Sweetaloo remembered back when she’d been first assigned to Swip. Out of everyone there, only Blink and Burgerbelle were handling themselves well. Everyone else was feeling the betrayal of Ser, or the dark hauntings of their past. It was slow work, at first, and Sweetaloo had honestly been considering taking them off active duty because of too much strain. 

But then they’d found Cinder, and suddenly new life was breathed into them. And, somehow, that new life had never gone. Even though Suzie had to leave, and even though Cinder herself went on a journey… somehow that innocent filly’s smiles and troubles and dedication had rubbed off on them. Celia had, in a way, found herself. Swip took steps to distance herself from being an impersonal machine. Nira had loosened up, willing to consider herself a friend to the others. Seren had been able to slowly come to terms with the fact that her upbringing had altered her in unfortunate ways. And Squiddy…

Squiddy had gone from denying what had happened between her and Ser, to screaming in hatred at everything that moved, to being broken down by violence around her… to being lifted up. 

As Sweetaloo watched Seren jump on Nira’s back and ride around Squiddy laughing with joyous delight, the counselor smiled. These Sweeties were a family. And… at this point, it was a family she was part of. 

Her mission to keep them stable had ended months ago. Celia had more than proven herself capable of being captain. Cinder had left, but they kept healing—the filly had reminded them of each other, in a way. Sweetaloo could leave at any time she wanted, move to ponies who needed her more. But she didn’t want to. She had a family again. 

A family… Haven’t had that, since…

She pushed past mistakes into the back of her mind. There was no use dwelling on that. It was too long ago. This was the life ka had provided, and she loved it. She wasn’t going to let some doubts take it from her. 

Deciding she had observed them long enough, she ran to the three of them and grabbed Seren, lifting her into the air. “Surprise!”

“Augh!” Seren laughed. “Secret attack alicorn!”

“Do not fear!” Squiddy jumped, gun pointed at Sweetaloo. “Your knight is here!”

“Oh no, I’m gonna die!” 

“Wh—hey!” Squiddy pointed her gun at Seren. 

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

“That’s Burgerbelle’s line,” Nira said. 

“What’s yours?” Sweetaloo asked.

Nira fixed Sweetaloo with a smug grin. “I’m the rampaging attack monster, not you. Move aside.”

“I don’t think I—”

“You!” A Twilight in a black outfit interrupted their little game—Sweetaloo noted that it was the same one that had gotten kicked out of the Council Hall not all that long ago. “You know.”

Sweetaloo raised her eyebrow. “Uh, no…”

“But the other Sweeties got in! They must be in the know!”

“They just had clearance,” Seren said. “They went in to find out.” She raised her gun and pointed it at Twilight. “Now scram before I ink ya.”

“But… but… geeeeeeh.” The Twilight lit her horn and teleported away.

“...You know, it’s sobering to be reminded what actual instability looks like,” Sweetaloo said. “That mare is at the end of her rope and will probably do something stupid and/or dangerous soon.”

Seren cocked her head. “But we do stupid and dangerous things.”

“Yes, but… there is a difference. You all largely know you’re doing that. To that mare, everything makes perfect logical sense.” 

“Should we hunt her down?” Seren asked.

Sweetaloo shook her head. “I don’t think so. If we investigated every insane Twilight we came across in the Census, we’d never leave. I’ll just file a report.” She pulled out her communication device. “This’ll only take a minute…”

“Aww…” Seren drooped. “We were having fun.”

“Yes, but we must be responsible citizens,” Sweetaloo said. “But after that we can go back to being the world’s strangest family.”

Seren let out a gasp of delight. 

“Oh geez, you brought up the f-word in front of her,” Squiddy groaned. Nira facehooved. 

Seren pulled Sweetaloo into a tight hug. No words were exchanged—they didn’t need to be. 

I’ve been given back everything I lost… Sweetaloo wiped her eyes. The Tower is too kind.


~~~


“The Beyonders will be here in a day or two, depending on time drift!” The Grand Secretariat of the Sparkle Census shouted, slamming her hoof into the table. “We have to do something.”

Celia and Burgerbelle had just arrived, and they both instinctively knew that they should be very quiet. They took up positions among the people of lesser-importance around the edge of the Sparkle Census table—around which there were a ton of representatives from various societies. Celia caught sight of Evening Sparkle and General O’Neill on a screen in place of the chairs, some gnome-like Fay creature, Ambassador Valentine of the United States of the Multiverse on his own screen, the Collection’s Lightning, and many others. And everyone was talking over one another in a half-panic. 

“Everyone shut up!” The smallest—and yet most important person at the meeting—shouted. None other than Vita of the Time Space Administration Bureau. She slammed her Hammer Device into the table to get everyone’s attention. “I know you all want to do something. And we are going to do something. But normal procedures will do nothing to a Beyonder incursion. They have the most effective military in the multiverse and are only kept in check because the rest of the Class 1 societies band together to stop them if they get too out of hand. None of us at this table are Class 1.”

“You’re a Seat! You do something!” someone shouted. 

Vita scowled. “Does no one understand the problem of being overextended? The TSAB has hundreds of operations at any given time. If we wanted to join with you and oppose the Beyonders directly it would involve abandoning most if not all of those and might launch us into a war we would never recover from. And if our territory were next to the Beyonders we would have been conquered long ago. I know you all think the TSAB is some kind of all-powerful benefactor, but we aren’t. We have people who would be just as scared as all of you if the Beyonders started knocking at our backdoor.”

“Very well,” Valentine said, folding his hands and leaning in. “Then what do you suggest? Evacuations?”

“That won’t be effective either,” Vita said. “I’m sure all your computers have discovered the problem with trying to run when we don’t know their exact heading.”

The Grand Secretariat nodded. “We can’t fight. We can’t run.”

“But we also won’t just roll over and die,” Valentine asserted. 

“We can try talking,” Evening offered. 

“Won’t work,” Vita said. “But it might stall them, so you’re welcome to try.”

“All this suggests that we need to try something unusual,” Valentine said. “Find a way to end their march. And to do that, we’ll need to find out why they’re coming here. This is not standard Beyonder behavior, yes?”

Vita nodded. “They generally only conquer societies at their borders. There has to be some other reason they’re out here. Some goal.”

“Something that only a plucky group of heroes would be able to find?” O’Neill suggested. 

“That’s not always the story the Tower tells…” Vita said. “But yes, that is a possibility.”

“Then our course of action is simple,” Valentine said, standing up. “We use all powers at our disposal to gather intelligence, while also sending our most ‘heroic’ individuals out to see what they can find. Everyone choose your most successful and ‘dramatic’ team.”

Evening nodded. “I’ll call Renee, get her to send out Pinkie and the Primary Team.”

“And I shall send Froppy.”

“I’ll try Nanoha,” Vita said. “She does like you guys, she might be willing to put personal interest in it.”

“Then it’s decided,” the Grand Secretariat said. “We will begin at once. Time is of the essence. Eve, go talk to them. Everyone else… scramble for a third option.”

“Right!” At this point everyone scrambled out of the room as fast as they could manage… leaving Celia and Burgerbelle standing there, speechless. 

Before Eve logged off her transmission, she looked at the two of them. “I’m sorry, but… there’s not much you can do.”

“We get it,” Celia said. “Big multiverse stuff is going down, that’s your territory. We’re the small fries. It’s fine.” She shivered. “Still…”

“I know,” Eve nodded slowly. “It sometimes feels suffocating being forced to sit and wait. But I have hope everything will work out fine.” She winked. “Try not to panic too much, okay?”

Burgerbelle shivered so hard she shattered like glass.

“She’ll be fine,” Celia said before Eve could start panicking. “You have a job to do, don’t waste it talking to us little Sweeties.”

Eve nodded. “I’ve never met a Beyonder before… this will be an eye opening experience, I’m sure.” She pressed a button and cut the transmission. 

Celia leaned back against a wall and let out a whistle. “Well. I wasn’t expecting a ‘multiverse level crisis’ today.” 

Burgerbelle reformed upside-down with several pieces out of place. “Silvertongue?”

“Let’s be real, that wasn’t really large-scale. That was just one guy.”

“It felt big.”

“It was big for our story. This… we aren’t the largest story, Burgerbelle.” 

“Oh, a footnote?” She plucked a sticky note off the bottom of her shoe.

Celia huffed. “Now, I wouldn’t say we’re that insignificant… but yes, this is a bit above our pay grade.” She frowned. “Think we can tell the others?”

“No.”

“Darn. That’s going to be awkward.”

“Should we avoid them?”

“Tempting, but no. I think we need each other right now. Also, I’m getting hungry. I could eat an entire cow.” She stretched her neck back and forced a smile. “Let’s take everyone out to eat. That should do the trick.”

“Bradburger?”

“No!” Celia said with a dumb grin. 

“But what else is there?”

Celia patted her on the back. “Let’s consider some real food, like, perhaps, Earth Ottoman cherry pie…”

“Cinder liked that.”

“One of her favorites!” Celia forced her grin to remain. “Who knows, maybe she’ll come back just to try some.”


~~~


The square sun lifted over the mountains, casting a rigid shadow upon the plains below. As the darkness receded and the day established its dominance, cubic creatures woke from their holes. Pigs opened their eyes, cows let out interested moos, and zombies burst into flames of agony. 

To those who lived here, it was a beautiful sight. The smell of burning zombie flesh was the smell of a new day of endless possibilities. 

Near the edge of the grassy field, there sat a windmill composed of various wooden cubes and a large pinwheel harvested from another universe so the windmill would actually turn in this world of perpetual blockiness. As it rotated around, its shadow intersected those of the nearby cobblestone towers that reached so far into the air their tops were above the cubes. Somehow, these towers didn’t outclass the windmill, but somehow framed it to stand out more. 

A cubic pig slept in a field of poppies planted outside the windmill. To the side of the pig, a yellow earth pony was tinkering with a potion, holding it up to the sunlight to make sure the refraction was just right. 

She frowned, lowering the potion and looking off into the distance. “Hey, Cinder!” Adder called back to the windmill. “You better get out here, somethin’s goin’ on!”

“Finally,” a voice came from inside the house. Confidently, a white unicorn with intense eyes strutted out with a coy smirk on her face. She was still young, but, biological age notwithstanding, there was no pony who would call her a kid anymore. Her legs were thinner than most ponies, but were also in significantly better shape with lightly defined muscles and thick, battered hooves. The swirls in her mane were well kept but short when compared to the manes of other mares, and her horn sharpened to a point. Nested just behind one of her ears was a pixelated rose, a permanent fixture of her outfit. No matter how the wind blew, the flower remained affixed to her, impossibly and yet perfectly. 

“It’s been too long,” Cinder said, fixing her orange eyes upon the distance where Adder was looking.  At the edge of their vision, they saw a tall black creature—what they knew to be an Enderman. It was currently doing something they never saw their kind do—building. The tall, lanky creatures would occasionally pick up blocks and place them, but never had the mares seen them make anything with a purpose. This one was placing obsidian blocks in a rectangular shape not unlike a doorway. 

“It’s making a Nether portal,” Adder observed.

“Hmm…” Cinder scratched her chin. “It’s not just making a Nether portal.”

“Huh?”

“After all these months, it’s time for something to happen. And that Enderman is going to start it.”

“If you say so.”

They watched as the Enderman lit a fire at the base of the portal with a flint and steel, summoning a purple swirl inside the rectangular opening. Then the Enderman teleported away, leaving the portal sitting there, alone. 

Cinder blinked. “Or I could be wrong.”

“You have been thinkin’ somethin’ was about to happen for about a week now.”

Cinder chuckled nervously. “I mean, it’s gotta happen sometime.”

Adder rolled her eyes. “Maybe it goes to a Nether fortress or something. Might as well at least check for loot.”

“Right. And with any luck, there’ll be something extra secret on the other side!” 

Adder rolled her eyes. “Suuuure, this’ll be the day. Definitely.”

They trotted across the grassy cubes, leaving their windmill behind them. They approached the Nether portal, taking a moment to examine it. The opening was three blocks tall and two blocks wide, exactly like any other standard portal. There didn’t appear to be anything odd about it. 

Besides the fact that it had been built by an enderman in front of them. 

“Maybe they do build things…” Cinder mused, running her hoof along the portal frame. “Then they aren’t very common. Maybe just a handful are builders?”

“Well, we never see the villagers build anything… but they have to.”

“Do you think the Endermen are the ones who wrote the books?”

“Nah. Endermen are recorded in those books as ‘very dangerous.’ That’s not how you refer to your own species.”

“Hmm…” Cinder came around to the front of the portal with Adder. “Well, there’s only one way to find out what’s on the other si—“

The enderman teleported back and shoved both of the ponies through the portal. Before they knew what was happening, they were on the other side—and the purple glow of the portal closed behind them. 

“Dumb little…” Cinder stopped in the middle of her insult, tapping the ground with her hoof. The ground was smooth and rounded, not cubic at all. Looking up, she found that they were in the middle of a forest with very thick mist in the middle of night. She couldn’t see more than two or three trees away, even when she lit her horn on fire. 

Adder tapped the ground. “He wanted us here.”

“Question is, why?” Cinder scratched her chin. “They’re interdimensional, but don’t wander beyond the cubic realms. Wha—“

There was a massive explosion of power somewhere overhead that sent a gust of wind into the two of them. Two shapes fell out of the sky. The first was a Rarity with an eyepatch over one of her eyes. The other was a humanoid creature made of blocks with a diamond sword in his hand. 

Cinder knew immediately that the blocky creature was the one that had written all the books in their home and built all the vast structures. The crafter. 

Cinder broke out into a grin. “Aww yeah, I was right this time!” 

“Cinder, they’re hurt!” Adder chided.

“Oh.” Cinder’s smile fell. “Right, right…” She ran over to the Rarity. “It’ll be okay, I’ve gotcha.”

“S-sweetie?” She mumbled, weakly. 

“Close. Now, what’s going on?”

“The… Herobrine…”

“…The what?”

Another humanoid blocky creature appeared, but this one didn’t just fall out of the sky. It punched the ground as it landed, creating a small crater around it. It was similar to the crafter in size and appearance, with one major detail—its eyes shone with a piercing white light. 

Cinder readied her flames and Adder activated her lightsaber. 

“The foolish mortals dare to oppose me…” Herobrine extended his hands. “More blood to paint this world with.”

Cinder smirked. “Naturally! It’ll be your blood, though. Sorry. ...Also, can I take a moment to say how ridiculous and cheesy this looks? Ominous dark creature that’s clearly a copy of another one but with glowing eyes… Yeah this is pretty silly.”

Darkness swirled around the monstrous being and it attacked. 

Cinder stepped to the left with a chuckle, engulfing Herobrine in flames as she dodged. “Take tha—“

Herobrine was completely immune. Dark energy surrounded his fist as it pushed through the fire, adjusting to Cinder’s new position. 

She felt it drive right through her ribcage. Had there been much more force in the dark attack, it would have torn right through her—but as it was, the monster’s fist was embedded in her chest cavity. 

“This… wasn’t… very silly...” Cinder coughed up blood. This doesn’t happen. This…

“Life is fragile…” Herobrine breathed. “And its only purpose is to die.” He threw Cinder off him, trailing her blood across the ground. She hit a tree, unable to make even the slightest gasp of pain upon impact. 

“Cinder!” Adder screeched

Cinder’s eyes rolled into her skull, and everything went white. 


~~~


Nira stared deep into Celia’s eyes. Celia stared disinterestedly back, obnoxiously slurping her smoothie the whole time. 

“Tell me,” Nira said. 

“No,” Celia said. 

“Tell me,” she reiterated, this time in the eldritch tongue. 

“Nope.” 

Nira’s eyes started swimming with strange magics. “Tell… me…”

“You know I’m resistant to that.”

Nira let out a sigh. “Fine. You win.”

“Pay up,” Sweetaloo said, holding out her hoof to Nira. With a grunt, Nira passed her milkshake over to Sweetaloo. 

With a smug smirk, Sweetaloo took the drink and took in a long, deep breath. “Ah… maybe now you’ll learn not to bet against the counselor on matters of patient behavior.”

Nira grumbled something incoherent and took her seat in the booth the Sweeties were sitting in. It was a nice window seat that gave them all an excellent view of the Twilight-trodden streets outside, most of them with their noses in books. The booth itself was part of Sparkle’s Snacks, a restaurant that specialized in snackables that were “guaranteed to cater to your OCD!” At the moment most of the Sweeties were having perfectly swirled Fibonacci Spiral drinks, but Celia had ordered perfectly spherical meatballs on a stick previously. 

Celia and Burgerbelle hadn’t breathed a word of what they found out to any of the others. This annoyed Squiddy and Nira, but Seren and Sweetaloo didn’t particularly care. About the information, anyway. 

Sweetaloo waved a wing. “Celia?”

“Hmm?”

“You look out of it. Your mind is elsewhere.”

Celia raised an eyebrow. “Naturally, but I—“

“I’m not asking you to talk about it—even though you could, under medical confidentiality in an official setting. What I am saying is that you haven’t fully internalized whatever it is you learned in there. You should find time to talk to someone about it.” 

“Like me?” Burgerbelle asked, whipped cream affixed to her face like a beard.

“Burger, no offense, you aren’t exactly a stabilizing influence.”

“Great!” She rammed her face back into her drink. 

Squiddy glanced at the Flat. “I wonder if this is her equivalent of drinking her sorrows away.”

Burgerbelle managed a shrug without removing her head from her food. 

It was at this point Seren finished her apple-flavored cinnamon-shake with logarithm swirls. “Well. What do we do now?” 

“Go back to scanning planets, I guess,” Celia said. 

Sweetaloo frowned. “You certain?”

“It’s not something we can deal with.”

Sweetaloo nodded slowly. “Well, you’re the boss. You know wh—“

A purple aura of magic surrounded Sweetaloo, and a blade construct appeared at her neck. Celia identified the source of the magic immediately—a Twilight standing outside the window. It was the very same Twilight-in-black that had been kicked out of the Council Hall earlier that day. Her horn was sparking—and she was staring at Celia with intensity. 

When she spoke, her voice was heavily muffled by the window, but everyone could still make it out. “What did they tell you, Celia?” she asked.

“Oh! Why didn’t you just ask?” Celia smirked. “They told me…” She cast dispel at Sweetaloo, dissipating the blade. However, this Twilight was a clever one, and she’d hidden a teleport spell underneath the blade. Celia wasn’t about to let this go through, however, and neither were Nira or Seren—both of whom grabbed hold of Sweetaloo with their magic. 

The Twilight tried to force the teleport anyway. 

The result was not what anyone wanted. The Twilight didn’t get to keep her hostage, but Sweetaloo wasn’t kept where she was. Teleports and anti-teleports collapsed together into a cascading swirl of fractal patterns that exploded, blowing out the window and covering everyone in itchy violet glitter and blue smoke. 

Celia didn’t let this deter her—she jumped out the window and smacked the Twilight in the horn with her razor-top. The Twilight let out a harsh shriek as her horn cracked. “My… my horn! How dare y—“

Celia slashed her across the face with her sharpened hoof, drawing blood. For a moment, she angled her razor-top toward the shocked unicorn’s neck—but thought better of it and instead sent a magic laser into the mare’s face, overloading her horn even further. The Twilight crumpled to the ground, whimpering as blood trickled down her face, mixing with her tears before falling to the ground. 

“This is what happens when people threaten my team,” Celia breathed. “You should know better.”

The Twilight was in no state to make a response. 

“Celia!” Squiddy called. “Celia, get over here!”

There was panic in that voice. Something happened to Sweetaloo. Celia jumped back through the broken window, pushing Squiddy aside. What she saw made her stop short, speechless. 

Instead of Sweetaloo, there were three little fillies: an Apple Bloom, a Scootaloo, and, of course, a Sweetie Belle. 

The Scootaloo was up first, a brilliant smile on her face. “Freaking finally!”

“Uh oh,” the Apple Bloom said. “Scoots, let’s not do anythin’ cra—“

“I am never going back in there!” Scootaloo shouted, jumping away from the other two. “Kapeesh?” 

Celia suddenly got a deep, unpleasant sinking feeling. 

“Wh—hey!” Squiddy pointed at her. “You don’t get to ju—“

“She lied,” the Sweetie said, voice hollow. 

“W-what?” Seren said, looking the small filly right in the eyes.

“Sweetaloo. She lied.” There were tears in the Sweetie’s eyes. “She knew all along we wouldn’t want to live like that. She just… didn’t want to… disappear.”

Celia had no response to this. With a thump, she sat down, keeping her eyes continually trained on the Sweetie, looking for any signs of deception. 

She found plenty. The poor girl was trying to hide her need to cry, her fear of the other Sweeties, her terror of being awoken like this, and her intense concern for her Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.  

But she was not hiding anything in her words. They were true. 


~~~


Adder was already making a plan. Grab Cinder, open portal, run to Merodi Hospital. Time was of the essence—she couldn’t waste any of it. 

Unfortunately, Herobrine wanted to kill her. Having dealt with Cinder, suddenly not-so-ridiculous-seeming entity rushed her with shadows spiraling behind his hand. 

“I am not the pony you’re looking for,” she said, waving her hoof to the side. The mind-trick did not deter him, so she just shoved her hoof forward and knocked him aside with a Force-push. This gave her the precious seconds she needed to jump over to Cinder. 

She probably would have succeeded, too, were Cinder still there at the base of the tree. But she wasn’t—there was no mare, there was only a blob of glowing white energy that continually shifted shape. 

“What…?” Adder blinked repeatedly. 

The white blob slowly took a solid form—but it wasn’t that of a pony. Two arms and two legs developed, each one slowly transitioning from a round stump to a limb defined by rigid right angles. Color slowly came to the creature, browns and blues that coalesced together to match Herobrine and Steve. 

The eyes, however, remained piercing white. 

Adder’s first thought was that Herobrine turned Cinder into a duplicate of himself. But then she noticed something—when the new Herobrine had formed, the pixelated rose had formed with it. 

“Cinder…?” Adder asked. 

The thing that might have been Cinder didn’t respond as Cinder would have. With a roar, it slapped Adder across the face, sending her flying. “Out of the way, whelp!”

Herobrine took a moment to stare at the creature before him—the creature that was him. “What blasphemy is this!?”

“I am tempted to ask you the same question!” 

“You are nothing more than a copy.”

“I think you’re the copy.” 

“I was the one who brought the reign o—“

“—of a thousand deaths. Except that was me.”

“Talking is useless.”

“Petty.”

“Uninteresting.”

“Largely a mortal endeavor.”

They flew at each other, fists impacting with an impossible force. At first they both put only a modicum of energy into the attack, but the longer neither of them budged, the more energy they put in. Darkness swirled until there was no light aside from both sets of piercing white eyes. 

Their skin broke and cracked, revealing an entity of darkness underneath, composed of square particles of smoke. And yet the eyes remained—they always remained. In time, there was no longer a punch occurring, it was just two sets of eyes staring intently at each other with intent to kill. 

But one of the eyes kept a pixelated rose above them. 

And that was enough for Adder. 

She threw her lightsaber at the other one, following it up with a potion. The yellow blade sailed right through, doing nothing to the smoking creature. The potion, however, exploded into a burst of yellow magic, electrifying Herobrine. 

The other being took the opportunity to its fullest. Shadows erupted all around it and squashed the startled Herobine like he was a bagpipe. His mass condensed further and further until he was little more than a set of two sparks. 

With a decisive slash of darkness, the other entity ended Herobrine then and there by devouring him whole. 

Now that there was no more threat, the cubic body formed around the eyes again, descending to the ground. After touching down, it stretched its arms. “I knew I was the real one.”

Cinder glanced at the rose in the being’s hair. “C-Cinder?”

The thing turned to glare at Adder. “I am no Cinder. I am Herobrine. And for that mistake you will die.” It jumped toward her.

Adder braced for an impact that never came, for the being let out a grunt of pain and fell to the ground, devolving into a blob of white energy. Over the next few moments, the blob took a new form—one with hooves, a tail, and a pointed horn. 

Cinder opened her eyes. 

“Cinder!” Adder called, pulling her into a hug. “You’re all right!”

Cinder hugged her back, but her mind was elsewhere. “That… it… it was like I was watching myself do things from the outside… and I just let it happen until he decided to…” She hugged Adder tighter. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you took control! And…” Adder pulled herself out of the hug and looked Cinder in the eyes. “You know what this means?”

“I… think so.” Cinder looked up, frowning. “Answers.”

“Yeah, you figured something out about yourself! That white… blob thing!”

“But now that I know that, now what? What does it mean?” Cinder started pacing in a circular path. “Seriously, what am I? Some kind of changeling? …It was more than that. I was everything he was, even the hate. But I was a little more and…” A smile crawled up her features. “Oh, this is so exciting, i—“

They both heard it at the same time. The sound of a train’s horn. 

Behind them, where there had previously been only trees of the forest, a rail appeared. Upon it rolled a train. It came to a powerful, steam-filled stop, opening a door. 

Answers, its destination board promised. 

“…Looks like it’s time,” Cinder said, walking up to the Train.

Adder followed—but Cinder held up a hoof. “I think… I think it’s time for you to go back, Adder. This one’s for me.”

“You sure?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

Adder nodded—she knew Cinder was serious about this. “Well, Ah’ll let everyone know you’re fine. How long do you think you’ll be?”

“…It won’t be long at all,” Cinder said with a smile. “I’ll see you before you know it.”

“Good t’ hear. You get answers, okay, Cinder?”

“I’ve been waiting for far, far too long. It’s time to put an end to this little answer hiatus.”

“…Why’d you say it like that?”

Cinder shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not Aware, ask Pinkie when you get back.” She hopped into the doors of the Train. 

“Good luck!” Adder called. 

“Thanks!” 

The doors shut with Cinder inside them. The Train sped away a moment later, leaving Adder behind in the forest.

“Well, that’s that,” Adder said, taking out her dimensional device. “Guess there’s nothing left for me here…”

“Uh… Apple Bloom?” 

Adder looked up to see the local Rarity and the Crafter getting up, staring at her in confusion. 

“Ah.” Adder rubbed the back of her head. “I guess I have to explain, huh?”

“That would be appreciated, dear.”

“Well, this is gonna take a while, so sit down…”


~~~


“…And she split into those three fillies,” the Sparkle Census police officer said. 

“Yes,” Nira deadpanned. 

“Right. Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen.” She glanced down at the Twilight attacker, who was still curled up in a fetal position and bawling. “…Did you have to be so…?”

“Brutal? No.” Nira leaned in. “I would have killed her.”

“Okaaaaay…” The officer backed up. “I’ll get her into the hospital and we’ll be sure to charge her. We’ll let you know if the battle insurance companies will cover the damage to the window.”

Nira rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just take care of it.”

The officer nodded as some Census medics levitated the downed Twilight into a stretcher. They wheeled her into a hovering ambulance and took off at high speed. 

With a set jaw, Nira returned to the booth where the rest of the Sweeties were—and the components of Sweetaloo. Burgerbelle and Celia were being oddly silent, Squddy was clearly trying not to cry, and Seren was actively talking to the three parts of Sweetaloo. 

“So…” Seren scratched her head. “You all remember everything about being Sweetaloo?”

“Yeah,” the Sweetie said, shakily taking a sip of some hot cocoa she’d ordered. “Everything about it. Everything.” She looked down. “But I mostly remember our fight with my Rarity near the beginning. We said such terrible things…”

“We were speakin’ the truth,” the Apple Bloom said. 

“Ahem!” Scootaloo huffed. “We weren’t doing anything. That was Sweetaloo.”

“But we are Sweetaloo,” Apple Bloom pointed out. 

“Were,” Sweetie corrected. “We were.”

“R-right…” Apple Bloom frowned. 

“And we’ll never be her again,” Scootaloo huffed. 

“But…” Seren lifted a hand. “But what ab—“

“Seren, you know the importance of family, right?” Scootaloo asked.

“Yes. It’s the source of most everything meaningful!”

“Well Sweetaloo abandoned all three of our sisters. She abandoned our home.” Scootaloo glared at her. “I know she mentioned she doesn’t have a good relationship with our sisters.”

Seren looked down. “But… but I miss her. And we were a family.”

“Yeah, well, that’s selfish.”

“Scootaloo!” Sweetie chided. “She’s younger than we are!”

“And I’m not letting anyone do anything like what Sweetaloo did to us!” Scootaloo shouted back. “Nobody gets to just take over my life.”

“It… it wasn’t all bad…” Sweetie said. 

“You want to go back to that?”

“N-no…”

“We should at least consider it,” Apple Bloom said. “She took us from our families… but if we go to our home, we take her from hers.”

“She was a liar.” 

“She didn’t want to die,” Sweetie whimpered. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t either!” 

“Celia…” Nira turned to their leader. “Are we really going to put up with this?”

Celia’s blank expression became dark. “Nira, if you are implying what I think you’re implying, I will personally tear you limb from limb if you so much as say another word.” 

Nira took a few steps back. 

Celia stepped down to the ground, getting in Nira’s face. For once, the stern confidence of Nira’s face melted away as she backpedaled from the Gem. Not that she was afraid for her life—she could take Celia, and everyone knew it. But because she knew Celia was serious. Nira did not dare say anything. 

“I’m going to make this as clear as I possibly can,” Celia said, growling. “We do not have the right to even suggest that these three fillies give up their lives just so we can have our friend. Sweetaloo was not a voluntary fusion, and the only reason she was allowed to persist was because her components supposedly liked the situation. Since that was a lie, what must happen is clear.”

“N-no…” Seren said, putting her hands to her face. “We can’t…”

“Good thing this isn’t a freaking democracy,” Celia breathed. She turned to Scootaloo. “Go home.”

“Gladly.” Scootaloo twitched. “I want nothing more to do with any of this. I’m done.”

“Scootaloo…” the Sweetie shook her head. “You don’t have to be so…”

“No. I don’t. But I’ve wanted them to understand for so long I don’t care. Your friend was a manipulative pathological liar.”

“That’s not completely true and you know it,” Apple Bloom huffed. 

Scootaloo’s harsh expression softened slightly. “…I’m still mad.”

Wordlessly, Celia took out her dimensional device and tossed it to Apple Bloom. “There you go.”

“…Right.” Apple Bloom frowned. “Girls… Ah at least want to say goodbye to Swip. That all right?”

“Yeah,” the Sweetie said. 

“…Fine,” Scootaloo grumbled. 

The Sweetie looked up at the other Sweeties. “We… we’ll be going now. Some of our time together was fun. But… I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of us.”

Seren was the only one who could bring herself to rush forward and pull the three of them into a hug. “Go… back to your families.” 

“…We will.”

Burgerbelle was the only other one to give a mildly pleasant goodbye, with a comical wave as the three of them left. 

As soon as they were out of earshot Celia let out a scream of rage and drove her razor-top into the ground, shattering the earth in several places. 

“I don’t think insurance will pay for that,” Nira observed.

“How dare she!?” Celia spat, ignoring Nira. “How dare she present herself as… as… as like me! As happy! As… belonging together!?”

“She was afraid,” Squiddy breathed. “She didn’t want to die.”

“Being unfused isn’t death! It’s just a different state of being, one that may be better for you! But no, she overruled the wishes of her components! That’s just… That’s…” She laid down, pressing her head into the cracked ground. “...That makes perfect sense.” She covered her face with her front legs and started crying. “That makes perfect sense…”

Squiddy, to Celia’s shock, was the first one to come to her, pulling her into a hug, followed quickly by Seren, and then Burgerbelle. Nira was last—but even she could see they needed to stand together in this moment. 

We’re falling apart, Celia thought. We keep losing ponies to one thing or another. Trials, journeys of personal exploration… I’m not sure I can keep this together. 

Should I keep this together…?

Oh, Sweetaloo, you may have been sent to keep tabs on us, but you became our stabilizer… You actually got us back on track. We were fine again! What are we going to do now?

The troubles of a possible Beyonder invasion suddenly seemed very small. 


~~~


Some Wookie had challenged Cryo to a game she didn’t know the rules of. However, like virtually everyone else in the multiverse, she knew the number one rule of dealing with Wookies: let the Wookie win. 

So she decided to try and beat the Wookie. 

The only problem was that the Wookie was actually good and she had no idea what she was doing. So her efforts were squandered and the Wookie let out a delightful cheer as her last piece was squashed under his furry fist. He let out an undulating roar of victory before turning and accepting a drink from Isekai as his prize. 

Cryo grumbled upon noticing the Wookie was not interested in a rematch. How am I supposed to break unspoken rules if they won’t let themselves be broken? “Mmmf.” She returned to her root beer, blowing more bubbles into it than drinking out of it. 

The Wookie left shortly thereafter, leaving Cryo and Isekai as the only entities within the bar aside from a blue slime creature in the corner that might have been asleep. 

“You know, considering how popular this place is, I’m surprised it’s ever this empty,” Cryo mused. 

“Something, something time drifting,” Isekai said. 

“Man, who made this bar? The level of engineering required to make time go however it wants is ridiculous.”

Isekai shrugged. “Maybe it just does it because it has to.”

Cryo raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like thinking about the Tower?”

Isekai raised an eyebrow. “That’s neither here nor there. …I think.”

Cryo tried to balance her glass on her snout. “Eh, I don’t really think much about it either. So you’re in good company.”

Isekai tapped her finger on the counter. “You know, I do sometimes wonder where exactly this place came from… Rarity kind of just had it.”

“Maybe we should ask her…”

“Do you want to be the one to do that?”

Cryo blinked. “Uh… no.”

“Then w—“

There was a shout from the entrance of the bar. “Hey! Quark! Did you know that there was a door to another bar in your bar?”

Another male voice responded from outside the bar. “You talking about Vic’s or that Isekai place?”

“Isekai?”

“I told her to stop doing that!” 

Isekai put her hand to the bridge of her nose. “Oh no, here we go again…”

An unusual humanoid marched into the bar. His skin was orange, his multi-lumped head bald, and his ears were utterly massive. A glass filled with some kind of blue liquid was in his hand, and he ran right up to the bar and slammed the drink down. “We had a deal, miss Isekai…”

Isekai opened a drawer under the bar and pulled out a voice recording. She pressed a button and it spoke with her voice. “Look, Quark, I can’t promise anything, the bar’s door appears wherever it’s needed, and it’s apparently needed in your station a lot. I will never put it there intentionally.”

“Yes! The station!” Quark slammed a hand on the bar. “And there are plenty of other places to put a magic door than in my bar!”

“But your bar is the hub of activity, Quark. People are just there most often. I really don’t have control over the door.”

“You’re taking over my business.” Quark folded his arms. “Profits are going to go down this week because you showed up, mark my words. I’ll find some way to sue.”

“…How?” Cryo asked, cocking her head. “Seriously, how?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out!” He growled. “And guess what else? You said it only showed up when it was needed? Who needed it? Not me!”

“Probably the unicorn behind you,” Isekai said, pointing at Cei, who had tentatively strode into the bar, glancing around with a nervous twitch. 

“Oh. Bah.” Quark threw his hands into the air. “Whatever…” 

“…Crown Princess?” Cryo asked, cocking her head. 

Cei looked at her, blinking. “Do I… know you?”

“Just one of many Sweeties in the League.”

“Ah.” Cei frowned. “Did I hurt you…? I’m sorry if I did, I—“

“Nah, you’re fine. Come, sit, have a drink. I recommend the root beer.”

“She can have something alcoholic,” Isekai said. 

“Kanar,” Cei ordered, taking a seat next to Cryo. 

“Hey!” Quark threw his hands into the air. “I can give you kanar!” 

Cei let out a soft laugh. “You sure can…”

“I object, if you’re just going to or—“

“Quark, dear, do calm yourself,” Rarity said, coming out from the back of the bar. “Look, how about in exchange for you not making a fuss, we sell you a full case of some exotic brew? I hear imports from Merodi Universalis are very profitable in your sector of the multiverse.” 

Quark broke out into a toothy grin. “Finally, some proper business.”

“I’ll meet you in your bar in a few minutes, Quark. Run along now, count your latinum and make your business proposition.”

“Gladly!” All hint of annoyance was gone from the man, and he ran out of the bar to return to his establishment. 

Rarity chuckled. “Ah, I do like that one. Shrewd businessman with just enough importance to ensure nothing goes irrevocably wrong for him. Specially reliable… and the center of so much more than you would think.”

Cei let out a snort. “You’re right. And he’s got his charm, too. Pretends to be a greedy goblin, really has a heart of latinum.” At this point Isekai had finished pouring Cei her drink. She lifted the thick brown concoction and took a swig of it. 

“…That looks like syrup,” Cryo observed.

“Tastes a bit like it too.”

“Ew.”

“She is the only non-Cardassian I ever give it,” Isekai admitted. “I don’t know how she can stand the stuff…”

“Some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved,” Rarity said. “Oh, Sunset, by the way, I may need to put the bar in safe-mode in a day, maybe less.”

“…Safe-mode? Why?”

“Reasons.” Rarity shot Cei a knowing look that made her shift uncomfortably. “They are good reasons. Don’t worry, it won’t seem like much time passed, but for a short while nobody will be able to walk in.”

Isekai raised an eyebrow. “Is that… necessary?”

“Afraid so. Some big fish are swimming into our stretch of the river, and let’s just say it’s best if be bury ourselves under the riverbed for a bit, hmm?”

“…I’m gonna have to leave?” Cryo asked. 

“Not right now,” Rarity said. “But, eventually, yes. Unless you want to be stuck here with Isekai for a day.”

Cryo scratched her chin. “I can think of worse things…”

“No,” Isekai said. “You won’t spend an entire day here.”

“It was worth a shot.” Cryo turned to Cei. “So… looks like you better get out what’s on your mind quickly.”

“Everything I’m worried about is very, very classified and very, very dangerous.” Cei shot Rarity a look. Rarity let out an indignant “humph” and returned to the back of the bar. 

Isekai looked back and forth between Rarity and Cei in mild confusion. “I guess I just don’t get to know what’s going on.”

“Join the club,” Cryo said.

“Still…” Isekai leaned onto her elbows, fixing her gaze upon Cei so she could study her responses more closely. “You have a decision to make, don’t you?”

“Not so much a decision as a ‘I have no idea what to do’ sort of thing,” Cei said. “I’m the ‘Crown Princess’ and people are looking to me to do something. But I can’t do anything. Nobody can do anything.”

“Are you in a position where you can tell them you can’t do it?”

“Oh, yes. Except they won’t believe me. Destiny, ka, all that nonsense.”

“Ah.” Isekai nodded in understanding. “You know what the real fun thing is?”

“What?”

“Usually you do end up doing something in situations like that.” 

“Annoyingly.” 

“You might just need to wait for it to come. Inspiration will strike, you’ll see the light that was inside of you all the time, the magic of friendship will reveal a truth to you…” She twirled a hand in the air to indicate the endless size of the list. 

“Or you’ll discover some deep hidden power!” Cryo suggested. “Or… or maybe you just need to ask for help.”

“I’d love that,” Cei said. “The only problem is that they’re asking me for help. Who do I get to turn to?”

“Yeah, sorry, bad idea.” Cryo twirled around on her barstool. 

Cei frowned. “Who would I turn to…?”

Isekai gave her a minute to chew on that while she returned to cleaning some dishes. Before she thought it was time to ask a question to prod Cei further, a new face walked into the bar, carrying a lightsaber on her back. 

Cryo recognized her immediately. “Adder!?”

“Hey!” Adder’s smile was replaced with confusion. “Cryo? CP? What’re you two doin’ together?”

“They just both happened to be in the bar,” Isekai said. 

“Huh. Aight.” Adder stretched her legs. “Ah’m not gonna be here for long. Just here to tell Isekai thanks for when Cinder and Ah first set off.” 

“You’re welcome.” Isekai winked at her. “Now, where is Cinder?”

“Yeah!” Cryo got in her face. “Where’s Cinder? What happened to you guys? Huh? Huh?”

Adder pushed Cryo back a little bit. “Cinder’s off on a journey of self-discovery on the Train. She said she won’t be much longer, but she had to take it alone. Ah’m just here to let everyone know she’s fine and to expect her back soon.”

Cryo gasped. “Oh, really! Yes yes yes! You… you have to tell me everything.”

“Ah mean, Ah have places to be…”

“I’ll come with you!” 

Adder thought this over. “Eh, sure, why not.”

“Yay!” 

“Let’s get movin’ though, there’s a lotta people we need to talk to.” Adder glanced to Cei. “…Sorry, Ah don’t think you’re welcome with the Merodi.”

“Not at the moment,” Cei admitted. “Plus, I have responsibilities too.” She tapped her hoof on the ground. “Hey, Adder?”

“Hmm?”

“When you see Cinder, tell her I’m sorry about… all that yelling with Puppysmiles. And about the Merodi and… yeah. A lot of things.”

Adder smiled softly. “Ah’ll tell her to look you up.” She opened a portal to Celestia City. “Let’s go, Cryo.”

“Yes! So, what was the first thing you guys did when you left?”

The portal closed, cutting off their conversation. Iseakai turned back to Cei. “So... have any ideas yet?”

“The beginnings of one,” Cei said with a smirk. She finished her kanar with a small gag. “See you around.”

“Good luck.”

“You too.” Cei walked out—at the same moment Rarity walked back in with several bars of gold-pressed latinum in her telekinesis. 

“That was a fast deal,” Isekai noted.

“I undercharged so it would go quickly,” Rarity said. “Right now, no one from the Station has really caught on that your door is attached to his bar yet. And since the bar’s empty… now’s as good of a time as any to go into safe mode.”

Isekai raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“It’s either now or we have to kick people out at some other time, dear, and I know you wouldn’t like that.”

“Good point.” 

Rarity nodded. “Just give me a minute to flip the switch…” She rested the latinum bars on the counter and trotted into the back. A moment later, Isekai felt the bar shake. “There we go! Hunkered down!” 

Out of curiosity, Isekai walked to the front door and tried to open it. Nothing happened. “Huh.”

“The bar’s currently scrambling its location. Nobody is going to be able to get to us for a good long while…”

This much was true. If it were possible to view the bar’s universe from outside, it would have been seen severing connections to the majority of nearby universes and moving away from its previous location, not unlike a sand particle drifting to the riverbed, under all the rushing water. 

If one were to zoom the map out a little more, they would see a blue crack of conquest inching closer and closer to densely populated space. Meandering a bit to the left and a bit to the right, but overall moving in a slightly curved line toward some unknown target. 


~~~


Cinder walked out of one of the Infinity Train’s cars, picking frogs out of her mane. She was about to make some snide remark about amphibians and fire not mixing, but the thought vanished when she felt a great tremor shake the ground. Earthquakes in the mini-universes inside cars were common enough—but she had the distinct feeling the world outside wasn’t supposed to shake. 

She looked up at the swirling vortex that dominated the sky above the train. It was moving faster than she last remembered. 

Something’s about to go down. 

She looked at the number on her hoof. 25. It had only been 29 when she arrived. Her stay wasn’t going to be a very long one. 

But she had the feeling it was going to be an eventful one.