//------------------------------// // Deployment Environments: Sandbox // Story: How the Tantabus Parses Sleep // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// Sunset ran. She couldn’t see the wolves nipping at her heels, but she could hear them. Branches battered at her face, gouged at her skin, tore at her clothes as she stumbled through the night-darkened forest. No matter which path she chose, it always seemed to be the hardest. Behind her, bear-sized wolves smashed through the forest like it was nothing, their pants as loud as a steam engine and their paws battering against the ground in a continuous avalanche. She’d already seen them, with their sanguine eyes and their stained teeth; she didn’t need to see them again. Above it all, a singsong voice rang out. “Keep running, little one! Run, lest they catch you!” She couldn’t spare a moment. Sunset ran. The forest cleared and the ground leveled out. Before she could question this, she’d put on a spurt of speed and was sprinting across the clearing like her life depended on it. Then the ground beneath her softened, slipped apart, liquefied, and she was forcing her way knee-deep through rancid mud. Waist-deep. Chest-deep. There was nothing beneath her feet. From the darkness coalesced a pallid man with pale hair in a black robe. He strode across the surface of the mud as if it were solid rock. In one hand, he held a staff, serpents twined around its head. At the end were a pair of outstretched wings, a glowing sapphire set between them. He crouched next to Sunset, now shoulder-deep, and tsked. “Oh, you really should watch where you’re going,” he said. He smiled condescendingly and chuckled. “Better luck tomorrow night!” Panting as deeply as she could with the mud pressing in on her, Sunset grabbed blindly for something, anything, and found nothing. She was up to her chin. “Why are you doing this?” she screamed. “What did we ever do to you?” The man just smiled again. “Oh. Wouldn’t you like to know.” He tapped his chin in thought. “…Nah. You have a good night, now.” He walked away, laughing, and the mud closed over Sunset’s head before she could scream. Sunset jerked into wakefulness panting, her shirt sticky from cold sweat. She dragged her hand down her face and groaned from weariness. Just a dream. Except no one as deep in magic as she was ever brushed anything off as “just a dream”. Especially not since it’d been happening for almost a week. And not just to her, but her friends as well. She sat up and fumbled for her phone. She winced at the glare, but was just able to make out the time if she squinted. 2:21 AM. Superb, and with school tomorrow, too. She could already imagine slouching through class, half-awake. She could try falling asleep again, but that man would be back. He always was. What did he even want? In the week he’d been antagonizing Sunset and her friends, he’d never made any demands, never declared any plans or schemes, never even doing anything outside of dreams. He was either a devious, manipulative mastermind playing his cards close to his chest or a phenomenally petty scumbag doing this for kicks. Probably the latter. Masterminds wouldn’t be that blatant about their existence. Sunset put her phone screen-down and stared into the dark at where the ceiling would be, her night vision in tatters. After all she’d been through, all the ways she’d grown, being a bully for the sake of being a bully seemed… a personal insult, the sort of directed, psychological attack meant specifically for her. Except none of the dreams had been more aimed than bullying. She was scared of drowning, true, but most people were. All of the nightmares he’d inflicted on her were things anyone would be scared of. He hadn’t even said her name, not once. Did he even know who she was besides his victim? As darkness became less so and the ceiling slowly came into focus, Sunset realized her hands were balled into fists, but she didn’t uncurl them. That guy, whoever he was, was a coward. He never put himself in danger and only attacked in ways where his victims couldn’t retaliate. She needed some help. Magic ponies were neither magic nor ponies on this side of the portal, but maybe Twilight could find a way to let Princess Luna slip some magic through. All these Equestrian relics were coming through somehow, weren’t they? Flipping on a lamp and groaning as its light assailed her dark-adjusted eyes, she staggered over to a shelf and grabbed Twilight’s journal. She could barely see the page as she wrote, but she could still see it and she could write. Twilight, I know this is going to sound weird, but is there any chance Princess Luna could come over? Something’s screwing with our dreams over here, and I’m pretty sure it’s magic-related. And this isn’t just ‘our dreams are weirder than usual’. We all have a man with a winged staff entering our dreams and turning them into nightmares. He’s buried me alive, sicced rabid wolves on me, and drowned me in the ocean. I wake up in terror several times every night and I can’t shake this creeping feeling that something’s out to get me. I can’t get enough sleep and I want to cut this off before it gets any worse. I know Luna probably won’t have any magic here, but she’s the only person I know of who has dreams in her league. She’s literally the only hope I have right now. Sunset She closed the book and put it on her nightstand. With nothing better to do, she grabbed her phone again and commenced a random Wikipedia binge. Sleep beckoned, but she ignored it, and not just because she knew what was coming. She was going to sit up and wait until Twilight answered, no matter how long it took. …How had she ended up on the page about jumping spiders already? In spite of it being the middle of the night, it barely took Twilight any time to write back. Thank goodness for the night-owlty of nerds everywhere and everywhen. Sunset, Funny you should mention that! Over a year ago (has it really already been over a year? Wow), Luna created an oneiric golem to help with her dream work. I know! An oneiric golem! Can you imagine? And not only did it work, it developed full self-awareness! See- (Four pages of gleeful writing later…) -perpetuating her own existence ad infinitum! So I So this ‘Moondog’ can help us? Yes. Probably. Maybe. Dreams are so intrinsic to her existence that I don’t know what’ll happen to her once she goes through the portal, so we should Will she even want to come? YES. Trust me, she loves helping people — not just ponies! Once she hears about this, she’ll want to do everything she can to help. Thank Celestia. Thank Luna. But as I was saying, I don’t know what’ll happen to her once she goes through the portal, so you should be ready on your side to help in case she needs it. (I’ll be there too, of course.) I’ll need some time to research that staff and talk to Moondog about it, so I won’t be able to get back to you until tomorrow night, unfortunately. What time works best for you? Tomorrow night’s fine. I can be there at… It was just after sunset (fnah fnah) and Sunset was pacing in front of the mirror portal. The school grounds were deserted, but she wouldn’t have cared if they weren’t. She’d been waiting all day for this, fumbling her way through a school day while practically half-dead, and Tartarus take her if she was going to let a few strange looks get in the way of a good night’s sleep. She glanced at her watch again. 8:57. It felt like it’d been 8:57 for an hour. Twilight had said she’d be there at 9. Glancing at her watch wouldn’t make time advance any faster, and still Sunset glanced. She didn’t have much else to do. “You better pull through, Twilight,” she muttered. Not sooner had those words left her mouth than she got goosebumps and the surface of the mirror began rippling. In moments, Equestria’s Twilight stepped on through. “Sunset!” she said cheerfully. “I’d say it’s great to see you again, but it probably isn’t for you, right?” “Not really,” grunted Sunset. She waited for someone else to step through the portal, but no one did. “Moondog’s coming, right?” “Of course,” said Twilight, “she’s right-” She glanced to her side, then did a double-take when she didn’t see anyone. “Um. Hang on a sec.” She grinned nervously and stepped back through the portal. Before Sunset could ask what was up, she was back. “Okay, uh, Moondog did come through, but-” She dropped to her hands and knees and began picking at the grass. “Did she leave footprints?” she muttered. Sunset coughed. “Uh, Twi…” “Moondog came out of dreams to come through the portal,,” Twilight said, her voice strained, “but I think something went wrong on this side. Look for any sign of her, please!” Well, this was a great start. Sunset flicked on her phone’s flashlight; immediately, she spotted something glinting in the grass, easily missable in the darkness. It was a… a smartwatch? Unfamiliar with the design, she picked it up. Even as she watched, words flashed up on the screen: Hello? Is anyone there? She turned it over. A circular crystalline sensor dominated the backside, inscribed with Princess Luna’s cutie mark. Around the sensor was printed, Tantabus Mk. II, Patent Pending Princess Luna Vigilanti. An out-there thought ran through Sunset’s head: Moondog had been made by Luna, so maybe- The watch had a headphone jack. Praying she didn’t need to fiddle with any settings, Sunset ripped her earbuds from her phone and plugged them in. The second she stuffed one of them into her ear, she heard a faux-synthesized voice: “-on’t know if they can he-” “Hello?” said Sunset. “Who’s there? I can hear you now.” “-ar me, s- Okay, um, that answers that question. Um. It’s Moondog.” “Twi!” Sunset yelled. “I found her! Ish!” To Moondog, she said, “I can hear you loud and clear. This is Sunset.” She held out the spare earbud to Twilight, who put it in. “Okay, good. Whoof, I don’t know WHAT the heck happened to me. My senses are all funky, and not in the fun way. I can’t even see, technically.” “You’re, uh, basically a watch,” Sunset said. She cringed at how inconsiderate that sounded, but she was tired and her brain was still catching up with her mouth. But Moondog didn’t seem bothered. “Huh. Weird.” She sounded more like someone had just suggested an interesting drink combo rather than she’d been told her entire being had been trapped inside a machine. “Never tried that before. I’ll mark it down. Is this supposed to happen?” “It’s complicated,” Twilight said. “The portal transforms anyone who passes through it because-” She glanced at Sunset. “We never did figure out why it transforms people, did we?” “Something about… perceptions and underlying metaphysical archetypes?” Sunset shrugged. “This world’s Twilight kept getting upset that it relied on things she couldn’t properly test, especially since you wouldn’t let her run a tristimulus colorimeter on each side of the portal for days on end.” “Because reasons,” Twilight said to Moondog. “It can be a little, ah, disorienting the first time through. Why you’re a watch rather than a person, I don’t know. Are you okay?” “Fine. Just confused. Right now, I’m… It’s… I’m not sure ponies have ever experienced anything like this.” Pause. “Yeah, I got nothing. Like I said, though, fine, and not in the ‘Freaked-out, Insecure, Nervous, Emotional’ sense. Gimme a sec, I gotta figure this place out a bit.” Sunset stared at the watch. This was it. This was Twilight’s vaunted dream guardian. A watch. She’d gotten her hopes up, waited for something that would just let her sleep, and this was what she was rewarded with. How could she hope to- “I recognize that look. She’s more than just a watch, you know,” said Twilight. Sunset looked up; Twilight was watching her closely, clearly sympathetic. “She’s good at dreams. Almost as good as Luna herself. If anyone can help you, it’s Moondog.” “But what if…” Sunset put her hand over the watch, hoping to block whatever microphone there was. “What if this is it for her on this side of the mirror?” she whispered. “What if she can’t do anything else?” “Then… I don’t know. But we’ll figure something out.” Twilight took Sunset’s hand in hers and squeezed. “We’ll fix this, Sunset. I know we will.” Twilight’s tone was soft, yet something about it made it impossible to doubt. “…Thanks,” said Sunset. She squeezed back. “Huh,” Moondog said abruptly. “I have a manual now.” Sunset had a vague impression of pages flipping. “Apparently, I’m running… Dreambian? From Lunax? Whatever any of that means. Um… Oh, Mom. The marketese and technobabble in this makes me want to barf. ‘Utilizes revolutionary neural net technology and proprietary orgone batteries to create a personalized, AI-driven interface via Odic forces to induce pleasant experiences during the REM state of sleep.’ Wlah. Just say ‘we made a magic automaton to give you good dreams’ and get it over with!” “Well, all of that’s… technically right,” Twilight said. “Just dressed up in more science-y terms. This world doesn’t like magic, so I can see why-” “Does it say you can enter my dreams?” Sunset asked, a hint of desperation tingeing her voice. “I really want this over with.” “Let me see. Use, use use… Just wear the watch to bed.” “That’s it?” “That’s all YOU need to do. I need to do some other stuff — hot dang is this a big flowchart — but don’t worry about it.” Sunset wasn’t sure whether to be happy that she finally had some (possible) help or anxious that the help wouldn’t work because the multiverse was being too nice to her. Weariness made her split the difference: shrug and go, “Okay. Great.” “I gave Moondog all the details on the staff,” said Twilight. “She’ll fill you in on it.” She rubbed one foot against the other. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any more help, but-” “It’s alright,” Sunset said quickly. “I’m sure Moondog’ll help.” She sounded a bit more confident than she felt. Only a bit, though. “I’ll send you a message tomorrow morning.” “Thanks, Sunset. Stay safe, both of you.” Moondog snorted. “Twilight, I’m safer in dreams than you are.” “You might not be over here. Be careful. Be seeing you.” Once Twilight was gone back through the portal, Sunset fitted the watch on her wrist. Based on the screen, it didn’t look any different from a regular smart watch. Even taking magic into account, it was weird to think there was a person in there. “Just you and me, huh?” “Just you and me,” confirmed Moondog. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Back home, maybe. But Sunset knew Moondog wouldn’t listen, so she let the matter drop. She looked at the streets and sighed. Time to head back home. All the way back home. One good thing about walking home at night: the streets were very quiet. Sunset paid the crosswalk lights only the smallest bits of attention as she plodded home, barely stopping. She felt like if she stood still for too long, she’d fall asleep right then and there. At least until Moondog gave her something to focus her attention on. “Twilight told you about me, right?” Moondog asked. “Or should I go through the introductory spiel?” “Dream golem made by Princess Luna,” said Sunset tersely. Actually meeting Moondog had gotten her spirits up a bit, but the walk home was draining her energy and she wasn’t feeling very talkative. “Pretty much, yeah. You know, I’m technically a machine there, I wonder if that’s why I’m a machine over here… Anyway, Twilight gave me the lowdown on the staff. Maybe I can make it look like a book and- Oh, here we go. Do you have a window somewhere? Like a watch face? You should see a book on it.” Sunset squinted at the screen. She could see something that looked like a page from a book, but- “It’s too small for me to read.” “But you CAN see it, right? Hmm. Okay, uh…” The document went to the next page. “Did the page turn?” “Yes.” “Good, good. I think I’m getting the hang of this. Want me to just read it off for you?” “Sure.” Sunset had a sudden vision that she was on one of those call-in radio shows, only a live podcast. Welcome to Mage Talk with Twilight and Shining Armor! Don’t cast like my brother! And don’t cast like my sister! Except since Moondog was describing something to her, Sunset was the one in charge of the podcast, except she was the one listening to it on a smart device and oh no she’d gone cross-eyed. “Right. So. That staff’s an Equestrian artifact thought lost — like, y’know, most of the stuff you take a look at — and it’s called — get this — the Caduceus of the Unreal.” Sunset missed a step. “The- The Caduceus? Why not call it just a staff?” Moondog’s snort was unbelievably staticy through Sunset’s earbuds. “I know, right? Methinks somebody wanted to sound more impressive than they were and cracked open a thesaurus. Anyway, supposed to let the user make illusions. JUST illusions, but Twilight ran some numbers based on the facts she had and thinks it COULD be repurposed to influence dreams if used properly. Dream magic and illusion magic are pretty closely related. The Caduceus… Well, short version, rather than letting the user travel through the dream realm, its magic seeks out a dreamer in the real world to invade. I’m guessing you don’t want the specifics?” “Maybe later. Not right now.” Sunset yawned tremendously. Under normal circumstances, she might actually want the specifics, but not when she was suffering from sleep deprivation. “To be fair, I didn’t want the specifics, either. I just didn’t have an excuse. Luckily for us, the specifics mean it’s a lot less potent than proper dream magic, i.e., yours truly. For starters, the Caduceus can only be used to enter dreams within a one- or two-mile radius, which is, like, total weaksauce. Can you imagine a network being limited by DISTANCE?” Sunset imagined being forced to carry around an Ethernet cable for her phone and shuddered. “Yeah. That’s weak.” “Oh, and the user actually needs to be awake when they start using it. They go into kind of a trance. No real rest, not like sleep, and vulnerable to all kinds of psychic backlash from differing mental states. I mean, heck, if Twilight’s equations are correct, it actually TAKES TIME to go from one dreamer to another. More time if they’re farther apart.” “That doesn’t sound like Princess Luna’s magic.” “It’s not. It’s ugly, it’s sloppy, it’s really only dream magic in the most technical sense. To put it in comparison: I’m a high-speed first-class train with right-of-way on any track, that staff’s a broken one-person cart with a sputtering outboard motor. Remember, it wasn’t built to manipulate dream magic.” “And you think you can counter it?” “Oh, pfft. Don’t get me STARTED. Seriously, don’t. I’ll start channeling Twilight and go on for hours about how I could dismantle that thing’s nightmares while bound and gagged.” “As long as you can enter dreams, right?” It came out a little more biting than Sunset intended, but she didn’t care. “…Ehm. Yes. But I don’t see why I’d have this manual if I couldn’t.” “Iunno.” Sunset turned one last corner; she could make her house out in the distance if she squinted. She managed to pick up her pace a little, since every step got her slightly closer to testing Moondog and (hopefully) a decent night’s sleep. This was one of those days where she really, truly understood Twilight’s borderline obsession with staying uplight to run some tests! (lightning crash). If this worked- “So, no offense or anything,” spoke up Moondog, “but are you being really chill about this or is it just me? Universe-hopping, dimension-enforced-shapeshifting… This isn’t that different from dreams for me, but for you…” Sunset shrugged. “It’s not you. This is kind of just Friday for me. And a school-day Friday, at that. On vacation Fridays, we go ana along the worldline-” She jabbed her thumb in one direction. “-instead of kata.” The other. Or is THAT way ana and THAT way kata? “And I’m too tired to care, anyway.” Tired. On a whim, Sunset checked the watch’s battery readout. 100%. She ran her fingers along the edges, and- Yes, it had a standard charging port. She could only imagine having to explain to Princess Luna that her “daughter” died because she wasn’t properly charged. (Or maybe charging Moondog up again would bring her back to life… No, don’t think about the continuity of magical robot existence right now.) “Huh. Nice to have someone who isn’t freaking out about what I am. It was kinda fun seeing ponies get shocked over my golemosity the first few times, but now it’s getting dull.” By the time she reached home and dragged herself up to her loft, Sunset was so overcome with anticipation and tiredness that she didn’t even bother changing besides kicking off her shoes. Collapsing straight onto her bed, she looked at the watch like it was a videophone. “Just fall asleep, right?” she asked. “Just fall asleep,” confirmed Moondog. “Can’t do much with dreams if you don’t have any.” At least something was simple. Sunset closed her eyes, and after a few half-baked thoughts of anxiety, she quietly drifted off to sleep. “Wow. You were not kidding when you said you needed rest.” Sunset felt… nice. Not great, but nice. Which was more than could be said for the past few days. She didn’t need to get up and she didn’t need to worry about anything. She could just lie here, on her sublimely comfy cloud, and let the world pass her b- She patted the thing below her. Definitely a cloud. Now how did she know that without feeling a cloud before? She opened her eyes and sat up. A night sky that didn’t look like any night sky she’d seen before was spread out above her, but everything at her level was as bright as day. A rocky mountaintop poked through the top layer of a sea of clouds that met the horizon in all directions. Sunset was lying on top of a cloud bed, as soft as… well, a cloud. In spite of the mist around her, she wasn’t getting wet. Across from her on a floating rock sat a girl (probably), not much older or younger than Sunset herself, with her hair in a pixie cut. Her wardrobe was so huh? that Rarity would have a fit over every single thread involved: sandals, tube socks, cargo shorts, and one of those tuxedo T-shirts. She was also made of night, but that seemed irrelevant for some reason. She watched Sunset with a sort of casual concern, brightening up the second she saw Sunset up and… dream-awake. “Hello!” said the figure, waving. “Moondog here.” She stood up and stretched in ways that made Sunset think of a contortionist. “Dreams feel normal to me, so I think you and I are in business. Just lemme…” She looked up and snapped her fingers; the stars twirled around them and parted as the sun raced to its azimuth. “Yeah, yeah, full control,” she said, grinning. “Keeping you safe is gonna be a piece of cake.” She snapped her fingers again and the stars returned. In another dimension along another worldline, a certain draconequus sat bolt upright in bed, feeling violated on a fundamental level. “Did you feel that, Mr. Bear?” growled Discord to his most nearby friend. “Someone’s stealing my schtick.” Mr. Bear, being a soulless sack of cloth and fluff that could neither move nor think of his own accord, nor react to stimuli, nor even do anything besides exist at the whims of a cold, cruel, uncaring universe and a capricious spirit of chaos that would’ve been as a god to him even without his powers, did not respond, for he could not, just as he could not be aware of his own pathetic existence. Discord rolled his eyes. He rolled a natural 20. “I’m glad you’re so understanding.” Moondog blinked. “Did you feel a chill just now? Because my spine feels cold and I don’t even have a spine.” “It’s because you tempted fate,” Sunset said. “Obviously.” “It’s not tempting fate,” protested Moondog, “it’s fact! I can say ‘protecting your dreams is what I was born to do’ and be completely, utterly, literally correct. I was built, spell by spell and enchantment by enchantment, to make ponies’ dreams better. And trust me…” She reached into her shirt and pulled out a thick sheaf of typewritten paper. “I can go on like this for a while. Want me to continue?” She ruffled the pages menacingly. “No.” Sunset lay on her back, her arms spread, and stared at the sun. Her eyes didn’t hurt. “You’re right, you’re right. But nothing else I’ve tried has worked, so I’m sorry if I’m a little cynical.” “You’re forgiven.” Moondog tossed the papers into the air; they folded themselves into origami-ish birds and flew away. “But please, just- a little faith in me would be nice. It’s what you asked me to do, right?” Not in the mood to argue, Sunset shrugged. “Sure.” “Now we just gotta wait until that guy of yours shows up. Unfortunately.” One of the bad things about lucid dreaming: you could sleep without actually resting. Sunset could lie on her back, stargazing, and know that she was asleep, but that didn’t mean she was relaxing, not one bit. Any second now, the man with the staff would be back, his nightmares with him, and after she’d already done all the waiting awake. It was like Zeneigh’s paradox, with the end always just out of reach. Hopefully, Moondog was half as dedicated to cleansing dreams as she claimed to be. “Fingers are so, so convenient,” Moondog said, wiggling hers. “I can’t believe ponies get weirded out if I ever have them. Sheesh, are they really that different from pegasi having wings? And I can do this!” She gave Sunset a thumbs-up. “Best gesture? Best gesture. …Try saying that ten times fast.” “Most ponies that come through the portal are really disoriented,” Sunset said. “You went through a bigger change than any of them and you barely blinked.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “How come?” “Easy. I can look like whatever I want in dreams and I’ve been objects before. Gotta be able to adjust, you know?” Moondog smiled and tapped her temple. “I mean, I’m just human right now ’cause you’re human. Back in Equestria…” Her shape suddenly lost all coherence. It collapsed into a blob that came up to a little bit above Sunset’s waist and resolved into an alicorn. “Boom. There you go. Dream Defender, Equine Edition.” Moondog flared her wings and bowed. Sunset sat bolt upright in surprise. The specifics of the portal meant she’d never really got an exact size comparison between humans and ponies, but she hadn’t expected a difference this drastic. For someone who was second-in-charge of dreams, Moondog was pretty cute. In fact- “Sooooo… are ponies just the most adorable things ever and I somehow never noticed when I was one?” “Not quite. The most adorable things ever are chickadees. Seriously, have you seen them?” Moondog held up a hoof and a chickadee puffed into existence, fee-beeing happily. “They’re like hyperactive little balls of fluff.” “Yeah, I’ve seen them. Still not as adorable as ponies.” Sunset crouched down to Moondog’s level. Holy cow, those eyes were huge. Holy cow, look at those ears. “It’s a bit of a different perspective when I’m not one.” And before she knew it, she was scratching Moondog beneath the chin. Humming, Moondog tilted her head back and wiggled her ears. “You know… Thank you, not that I don’t like this, but maybe I- a little to the left… yeah, right there… -maybe I should just stay a human so I don’t trigger your ‘adorableness deserves scritches’ instincts.” “That’s probably a good idea.” Sunset gave Moondog’s ears one last scratch and stepped back. Another blur, and Moondog was human again. Still with that absurd outfit. “But you can look like anything you want… and you want to look like that?” “Yep!” “You have no idea how dorky you look.” “Oh, I know exactly how dorky I look,” Moondog said with a grin. “A little nonsense here and there is relished by the wisest mares.” “Then Pinkie Pie’s the buddha.” Moondog laughed. “Oh, Mom. Can you imagine Pinkie- knowing… Hold up…” The temperature suddenly dropped several dozen degrees. Gnarled, leafless trees grew up above the skyline, their branches grabbing like claws, and the clouds rose slightly to become mist. The ground beneath Sunset’s feet congealed into hard-packed dirt and rocks. Her breath caught in her throat. “He’s here,” she whispered. As she looked around for the invader, she unconsciously took a few steps closer to Moondog. “Okay,” whispered Moondog. She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s see now… Overpowering this is…” She flicked a finger at a tree. It promptly pulled its roots from the ground and walked away like some kind of spider. “Ha! No problem. He won’t know what hit him.” And she vanished. “Moondog?” Sunset turned on the spot, but saw nothing but trees. “Where are-” “Still here,” Moondog’s voice said in her ear. A wave of physical warmth washed over Sunset. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Whatever you do, don’t run. If he’s anything like the nightmare beasties back in Equestria, he likes power, so not playing by his rules’ll really rattle his morale, especially when his magic stops working for some strange reason.” A few purple sparks danced in front of Sunset’s eyes. “And in dreams, morale is everything. Surprises hurt morale more.” “Alright,” Sunset said. She gulped and balled her hands into fists. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. The man’s voice boomed from everywhere. “Ah, hello again! We really must stop meeting like this.” The mist pulled itself into his shape as he reclined across an invisible chair (throne, more like) with the Caduceus lying across his legs. He grinned that punchable grin again. “Ready for round 2?” She could do this. “No,” Sunset said. Shock ran across the man’s face and his position in the air faltered. Sunset heard Moondog snort. When he started smiling again, it was a lot more forced. “Whatever do you mean by that?” “I mean no,” Sunset replied, more confidently. “We do something like this every night. Can’t we mix it up? How about a concert? I’m a pretty good guitarist.” The man’s laugh was as fake as anything Sunset could imagine. “Well, y-you might not be ready for round 2, but round 2 is ready for you!” He waved the staff at the forest; a deep howl rent the night. Trees were pushed aside and broken like twigs as two enormous, growling wolves moved into the clearing. Their fangs were sharp and their jaws were strong and they glared at Sunset with murder in their eyes. The man grinned, some of his confidence back. “You know what to do. Run, rabbit, run!” Sunset took a deep breath, steeled herself, and didn’t run. The wolves slowly moved closer, snapping at her. Then one closed its mouth and tilted its head. One of its ears twitched and it turned to the other. “Hey, Romulus?” “Yeah, Remus?” asked the second wolf, still snarling at Sunset. “Why are we doing this, again? Chasing a scared teenage girl through the woods…” Remus folded his ears back and tucked his tail between his legs. “Is that really what we wanna be doing with life? It’s so… nothing. I was almost a public defender, you know.” The man actually fell from the air this time, lying sprawled across the ground. He stared at the Caduceus, his mouth working soundlessly. The sapphire glowed brighter, but nothing changed; Moondog contemptuously muttered, “Amateur.” Romulus’s ears went up and he turned to Remus. “Really? But that’s a lot of work.” “Yeah, but I would’ve been doing some good in the world! Not like- You know what, screw it. I’m going back to Delta.” Remus turned around and yelled to the man, “Hey! —--- you, buddy! You’re sick!” “How-” The man stared in increasing horror between Sunset and the wolves. “How are you-” “Look, Remus, I know what you’re saying,” said Romulus, “but this is all I got! I need to put carcasses on the den floor somehow and-” “Public defenders are overworked like whoa. You wanna be my assistant? Pay’s not the greatest, but you can live on it and it’s honest.” “Good enough for me.” Romulus glanced at the man, “Look, Mr.… I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Even Sunset could tell that his response was reflexive as he tried to make some sense of what was happening. “E-exterreri.” “Mr. Exterreri.” Romulus made a face that Sunset suspected was a proxy for Moondog’s expression. “I’d say it’s been fun, but… it really, really hasn’t. Let’s go, Remus. Sorry, lady!” The wolves vanished into the forest. Exterreri stared at the Caduceus, at Sunset, at where the wolves had vanished. “How…” he asked, barely able to speak, “how did… you…” “Hi!” Some of the mist pulled itself into the center of the clearing and condensed into Moondog. She held out her hand for Exterreri to shake. “Name’s Moondog. Not so nice to meetcha. I’m pretty good with dreams, myself.” “She is!” Remus yelled from the forest. “This is-” Exterreri backed up, pointing the staff at Moondog. “You’re the one interfering with my work! Not her!” “‘Interfering’ is a bit much,” said Moondog, leaning against a tree. “‘Enliven’ is more accurate. Seriously, that was a rookie nightmare.” “I’m more powerful than you realize,” snapped Exterreri. “More powerful than you can-” Moondog whistled; thorny vines sprang from the ground and wrapped themselves around Exterreri’s limbs, binding him tightly. “And still not powerful enough,” she said, smirking. She glanced around. “And dull, too. Spooky forest? Come on.” She casually snapped her fingers and everything turned inside-out, returning the setting to above the clouds. Exterreri’s eyes nearly bugged out. “Much better, don’t you think?” asked Moondog. But the brief spike of elation Sunset had felt upon seeing Exterreri finally get trounced was wearing off; now, her mind was racing. Restraining him like that might’ve worked in normal dreams in Equestria, but his presence here required the constant use of the Caduceus’s power. Even if he couldn’t do anything in the dream, he might be able to- “Now, look,” continued Moondog. She wasn’t even looking at Exterreri. “I protect dreams. In short, you are not welcome here.” When she turned around, her grin was predatory, even with the tuxedo T-shirt. “So just make things easy on yourself, okay? You can start by apologizing to the nice young woman here.” Exterreri blinked and his breathing steadied. As he stopped struggling against the vines, he looked at Moondog, at Sunset. He looked at the Caduceus, still in his grip. The sapphire began flickering. Sunset immediately knew he’d gotten the same idea he had. She lunged forward, grabbed his hand, and, with a twist of magic- A glowing staff found during a hike… The man, laughing as people fled from illusory bears… Untraceable power, zero consequences… 113 Hay St., an unused warehouse, perfect for study… Modern science attuning the crystal’s frequencies for different effects… A septet of teens that the staff’s magic was drawn to… -knew everything. The sapphire went out, its magic no longer in use. The hand vanished from her grip and Exterreri was gone. Moondog blinked. “What? WHAAAAAAAT?” She grabbed at the vines where his body had been, to no avail. “But he- He was restrained! Like, metaphysically! He couldn’t-” “He was projecting himself into my dreams with the Caduceus, remember?” said Sunset. She massaged her forehead. “He just turned it off and stopped projecting.” So simple, yet so easy to miss. “But that- That’s not fair!” yelled Moondog. “Maybe-” She charged forward and collided with the skybox. She pushed and shoved against nothing, but nothing was impossible to get through. “Seriously?” Moondog screamed to the heavens. “I can’t-?” She began kicking at space, each clanging impact punctuating another word. “Open! You! Stupid! Archetypal! Thoughtway!” She slouched forward, her head against the lack of door. “Fudge,” she mumbled. Nothing gave way and she toppled onto her face. Sunset rolled her onto her back with a foot. Moondog didn’t look hurt, just pouty. She waved a hand through the space Moondog had kicked but couldn’t feel anything. “Now what’s up?” she asked. “Semantics and restricted magic,” mumbled Moondog. “Normally, I can just jump out of your dreams and into somepony else’s like wheeeeeee. I figured, maybe I could find him in the collective unconscious. But here, I think I’m stuck with that watch. You’re wearing that watch. No go for me.” She blew a short raspberry. “Having no magic’s a bummer, isn’t it?” said Sunset. She grabbed Moondog’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “When I first came here, I had trouble remembering that I needed to get up and walk to something instead of just levitating it over.” “Wow,” Moondog said, wincing. “That must’ve sucked. Can’t imagine what it’d be like if I couldn’t enter your dreams at all.” She sighed. “I really should’ve seen him just- leaving like that. I remembered he technically wasn’t here enough to avoid looking into his memories, I just never thought he’d… Yeah.” She moaned and collapsed back onto an invisible bed. “This world suuuuuuuuucks.” “You can look into memories, too?” It made some form of sense, though. Dreams were often tied to memories, weren’t they? “To a certain degree. It helps me personalize dreams.” Moondog gestured vaguely. “And I can avoid hold up.” She sat up and got right in Sunset’s face before realizing her mistake and backing up. “What do you mean, ‘too’?” she asked suspiciously. “Didn’t Twilight tell you? When I touch someone, I can see the memories related to what they’re thinking about right then. That’s why I grabbed him right before he left. After he found the Caduceus, he started studying it at 113 Hay Street. I think he’s still there.” “Okay, neat, but hold on, he really was here? At least enough that I could’ve looked into his memories?” Moondog looked one way, her mouth moving silently. She looked another. And another. Then she looked at Sunset and said, “Booger.” She collapsed onto her butt, lightly punching herself in the face. “Ai. Yai yai. Yai YAI. Stop. Making. Assumptions. They only make an-” “Hey!” Sunset pulled Moondog to her feet. “Look. I know you feel stupid, but you’re doing great! Just one night, and we already know you can drive this guy away, we know his name’s Exterreri, and we even know where he is! One night!” A pause, then she hugged Moondog tightly. “Thank you so much. My friends are going to love this.” “Well.” Moondog cleared her throat. “Thanks.” A quick return hug, then she evaporated out of Sunset’s grip and reformed a few feet back. She smiled a little and said, “Seriously, that means a lot to me. This… isn’t really my best night.” She looked at her hand for a second, then held it out to Sunset. “Think your magic’ll work on me?” “You’re sure? I can’t control what I see.” “If it’s just memories about my current thoughts, you’ll only see stuff you can guess anyway. And if you don’t… Well, Twilight trusts you, and that’s good enough for me.” Oh, what the heck. Sunset took Moondog’s hand, flexed her magic, and- 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 -stumbled back, clutching her head and groaning. Apparently, the thoughts of a machine were only machine-readable. The only resemblance that mess bore to humans’ memories was if those memories had been thrown into a woodchipper. She’d only caught the most basic snatches of things that resembled thought, and when she’d tried making sense of it, it was like she’d been forced out somehow. She’d never been ejected from someone’s head before, but then, she’d never read the mind of anyone skilled in mental magic before. For her part, Moondog gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. “Oh, Mom, I am so sorry,” she half-squeaked. “You started poking and- And I honestly don’t know what I did! It was a reflex! Sorry sorry sorry!” “I’m fine.” Sunset pulled her hands away from her head, half-expecting to see thoughts dripping from her fingers. Luckily, there was nothing. “Just surprised.” “Hem. Sorry. Let’s not do that again.” A very good idea, Sunset thought. She looked at where Exterreri had vanished. “So now what? If he’s gone and you can’t leave-” She twitched as she realized something. “Do I have to wait this whole night out?” “Well, to be honest… I’m not that good at dreamless sleep.” Moondog grinned sheepishly. “But I can remove your lucidity so you won’t notice anything. Don’t worry, I can still keep you safe. Just relax, okay?” She snapped her fingers. Sunset’s focus drifted away and everything seemed to matter less; whatever happened next, she couldn’t remember. The first thing Sunset did once she woke up was check Moondog’s charge. Still 100%. “What sort of batteries does this thing have?” she muttered to herself. “That orgone must be something else.” Even if Moondog hadn’t been able to completely stop this Exterreri, Sunset’s night had been peaceful enough that she felt better than she’d had in days, thanks to the wonder of a good night’s sleep. And not only did she have rest, she also had help and an address, all things she’d been lacking in just yesterday. To top it all off, today was a Saturday. She glanced at her phone and- wow, it wasn’t even 9 yet. It was one of the brightest-looking days she’d had in a while. She texted a quick message to Twilight: Cn I cm ovr? Gt mgc hlp abt drms. She plugged her headphones back into the watch. “Moondog? How’re you doing?” She clicked a pen and opened up her journal. “I should have a hologram,” Moondog said grumpily. “I’ve been looking around here all night and I can’t find a hologram. Why doesn’t this thing have a hologram?” “Because our tech hasn’t progressed that far yet,” said Sunset. She scribbled a quick message to Twilight, giving her the news. “Not for my Twilight’s lack of trying, though. Seriously, how are you?” “Fine, if hologramless. Dreams still work fine for me if I don’t try to leave. Got any plans for the day?” “Not yet.” Sunset arched her back and stretched. Man she felt good. Compared to yesterday, she could practically run a marathon. “If some of my friends feel up to it, we might see if we can just steal the Caduceus from him today.” “Neat. You know, you girls are REALLY lucky all the Equestrian artifacts that wind up in this world are near you.” “Actually, it’s probably the other way around. There might be something around here that’s attracting magic. And since I’m technically magic, I was attracted here when I first arrived. Or maybe it’s just because this is where our side of the portal is.” “Huh. Good point.” “Also, all the Equestrian artifacts that we know about are near us.” Sunset’s phone buzzed; Twilight had replied back: Sure. Getme somthing from Has Beans.Strong. Coffee. Of course. “This world’s Twilight is interested in talking. Wanna come along?” “Absolutely, but you’d drag me along no matter what I said, right?” “Great. She’s gonna love you. And yes.” “How did you contact her so quickly, anyway?” As Sunset pulled on her jacket, she said, “So, there’re these things called ‘phones’…”