Even walking around town felt great with a little bit of rest. Sunset was practically skipping along the sidewalk to Twilight’s house, stopped only by the Has Beans takeout coffee cup holder she had in one hand — medium roast for her, espresso for Twilight. Her other hand had a bag of donuts, because of course she got donuts. Caffeine for the Caffeine Goddess, Donuts for the Donut Throne, Wondercolts for the Cup. Such was the way, and it was good.
“I probably sound like an alien saying this,” Sunset mused, “but I love a good night’s sleep.”
“Most people don’t realize how much they do until they don’t have one,” Moondog said. “And my job’s making it as good as possible.”
“I said this before, but thank you. I feel great.”
Sunset sidled up to Twilight’s door and rang the doorbell. She was feeling so great that she didn’t mind waiting several minutes for Twilight to drag herself down. When Twilight finally opened the door, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed (which was probably the case). Her pajamas were wrinkled, her glasses were askew, her hair was a cottony briar patch, and she leaned against the doorframe like she’d fall apart otherwise. She blinked blearily up at Sunset.
“Hey, Twi.” Given Twilight’s state, Sunset did her best to not sound too chipper. “Did I wake you up? Sorry, I thought you’d be up already.”
“S’alright. Long night.” Twilight rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Please tell me you have coffee,” she mumbled.
“I bring coffee.” Sunset held the cups just below Twilight’s nose. “I also bear donuts and good news.”
“I love you forever and always.”
“You already do.”
“Compared to the usual, Bacon Hair. Early. Tired. Brain not can do think right. Give.”
One partial coffee chug (aborted because of temperature), two full chugs, ten sips, and eight donut bites later, Twilight looked like something resembling awake. She slouched at her desk chair in her room, cradling her cup of espresso like it was some unique crystalline formation. She didn’t even protest Sunset rummaging through her tech accessories. “So you managed to get some magic help?” she said through a mouthful of donut. “What’d Other Me say?”
“Even better than saying.” Sunset pushed aside a coil of wire. “We got some help on this side thr- Ha! There you are.” She pulled out a tiny portable speaker and plugged it into the watch. “Twilight, say hello to Moondog.” She took a seat on the floor.
Twilight swallowed and, after an iota’s hesitation, said to the watch, “Hello, Moondog.” She gave Sunset a Look.
“Hey,” said Moondog. “The other Twilight sent me over to help. Dreams are kinda my thing.”
“Moondog manages dreams over in Equestria,” Sunset said, “and-”
“But that would take magic,” Twilight said, “right?” She stared into her coffee cup like it was a crystal ball. “Magic she probably doesn’t have on this side of the portal. So she might not be able to do anything here. Unless dreams can cross dimensions, which I guess could be a thing, and she’s still in Equestria. But if there isn’t much magic in this world anyway, why would it work in dreams? And she’s talking through a phone right now, so how come-” She twitched and quickly took a sip of coffee before her train of thought became a runaway.
“All of those are WAY off,” Moondog said, chuckling. “Except one. Which one’s a secret.”
Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sure you two love this, but I had a bad night. Why’s Moondog on the phone rather than here?”
“She is here.” Sunset held up her wrist. “You’re looking at her.”
“At- her? That’s just- or- Wait.” Twilight blinked and put her coffee on the desk. “So… you’re saying…” A moment passed. Her eyes lit up as she connected the dots in that uniquely Twilight way and squealed, “Moondog’s an artificial intelligence?!”
“I guess that’d be the term,” said Moondog. “Back in Equestria, it’d be ‘golem’. Or ‘automaton’ or ‘tulpa’. Or ‘accident’ if you ask Discord. Please don’t.”
Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She perked up so much it was like a gallon of caffeine had been injected directly into her aorta. But Sunset had no time to rue her now-needless purchase of coffee; she was wrenched to her feet as Twilight snatched her wrist and dragged it up to eye level to stare at the watch. “And you live or exist or whatever in there? What’s it like? Is-”
“Whoa, hey!” Sunset yanked her wrist free. “Be careful with her! And why’re you so-” -explosive with glee and- “-excited about this? What about that android you built for Spike? Wasn’t that an AI?”
“That was a skyloid, and it wasn’t totally sapient! It wasn’t snarky! Moondog can be snarky! Dynamically snarky! Do you have any idea how weird dynamic snark is from a computer science perspective?”
“I’m from a world that hasn’t invented the telephone yet, so… no.”
“She did it again! Eeeeeee!”
“I’m glad to see snark is so highly valued. Sarcasm is such a rare commodity.”
“Moondog,” said Sunset, “you’re going to give Twilight a heart attack. Stop it.”
“Sorry, sorry,” said Twilight. She took a few deep breaths that were still fast enough to almost qualify as hyperventilation. “But it’s… I’d take you apart if I could!” And she promptly turned beet red. “Wow that sounded bad. Um. What I mean is-”
“You’re fascinated by my implications and want to study me as non-invasively as possible?”
“Ehm.” Twilight ran her fingers through her hair. “Yes.”
“Heh. You are DEFINITELY this world’s Twilight. No offense taken.”
“Wait, wait, hang on. If…” Twilight paced back and forth, staring at the ground and stroking her chin. “I don’t think you have a duplicate on this side of the portal,” she said. “But if you were made by Princess Luna…” A grin began growing on her face. “…and you’re a smartwatch here… then-”
Sunset immediately knew where that train of thought was headed. “No, Twilight,” she said flatly, “convincing Vice-Principal Luna to take up programming will not make her spontaneously start developing sapient AI.”
“Aaare yooou suuuuuure?”
“Yes. Remember how the other Spike could talk on this side of the portal but yours couldn’t at first? Same thing. I bet Moondog’s only sapient because of Equestrian magic.”
“Must you shoot down every single one of my dreams?”
“That’s Exterreri’s job right now, and hopefully we’re taking him out soon, so I’m getting ready to replace him.”
Twilight’s face went blank. “Who?”
“Exterreri,” said Moondog. “The guy in your dreams with the staff. But its actual name is the- snrk -the CADUCEUS of the Unreal.”
“…What’re you laughing about? That sort of staff is a caduceus. In Thessalian mythology, one of them belonged to-”
“He tried attacking me again last night,” Sunset said quickly, heading off Twilight’s tangent before she could really get going. “But with Moondog’s help, I fought him off and managed to read his mind. He’s at 113 Hay Street and he’s using the Caduceus-” (She kept a straight face under Twilight’s steely glare. You did not mock terminology around Twilight Sparkle, not even when those terms were “briffits”, “squeans”, and “grawlixes”.) “-to torment us because… Okay, I don’t know. I think because he’s a bully.”
“113 Hay Street…” Twilight muttered. “There’s not much on that side of town… Perfect for hiding out…”
“So I was just going to round up the girls that feel up to it and get the Caduceus from him,” said Sunset. “I don’t think he knows I know. You’re the first one I asked. You feel up to some magical girling?”
“I… guess. I mean, I feel up to it, it’s just-” Twilight looked longingly at the watch. “Can I-”
“You can look at Moondog after we get the Caduceus,” Sunset said resolutely. “If Moondog’s okay with it.”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t kill me and we’re golden. …That’s, um, not passive aggression, by the way, you really can look at me.”
“Can’t I look now?” asked Twilight. Her eyes were big; she was already entering the puppy-dog phase of pleading.
Unfortunately for Twilight, Sunset had built up a strong resistance to the puppy-dog phase over the years. “If I give Moondog to you, you’ll disappear for a month! I haven’t even texted anyone else yet! Can’t it wait for a few hours?”
But Twilight remained undeterred. “Please? Please please pleeeaaase? I promise I’ll be done before the others respond! It won’t take more than thirty minutes!”
“Fine.” Sunset passed the watch over to Twilight. “But I’m counting.”
Twelve minutes and fifty-seven seconds later…
“Breakthrooooouuuuugh!” Twilight sang. She re-entered her room doing some jerky spasm that was probably supposed to be a dance. Brushing some imaginary dust off her clothes, she said, “I don’t mean to brag, but-”
“Do it do it do it!” said Moondog, her voice now coming from the watch itself. “Bragging’s fun!”
Sunset looked up from her phone. “Bragging about what?” Watching Twilight brag was quite nice, really; most of the time, she turned inward and studied rather than gushing about her studies to someone else, so it was a good change of pace. “And you don’t need the headphones anymore?”
“Nope!” chirped Twilight. “There was a discreetness setting on there. I mean, it was literally called ‘Discreet’.” She held up the watch so Sunset could see the settings screen. Sure enough, “Discreet” was set to Off. “According to the manual, it just mutes the external speakers, buuuuuut we should probably switch it back before Moondog goes back to Equestria. Just in case.”
And Sunset promptly had a vision of Princess Luna giving her what for: “Sunset, why is my daughter telling everyone every secret she knows?” “I hit the wrong button.”
“Anyway… Sunset, this thing is nuts.” Twilight held the watch like it was more valuable than a Fabuckgé egg. “I took the rear cover off and- Yes I was careful and had Moondog’s permission, don’t give me that look! Anyway, I looked at it under a microscope and it’s like- This doesn’t use semiconductors for computation, it uses a hyperfine heterogenous lattice of reverse piezoelectric crystals!”
“Wow. That’s impressive,” said Sunset. “Is it also supposed to mean something?”
“That’s what I said,” said Moondog, “and I’m MADE of the stuff.”
Twilight was so elated she didn’t even care about the usual “layman’s terms” quip. “This, this, this…” she said quietly. Her hands were actually shaking. “This is the most beautiful blending of magic and technology I’ve ever seen. It’s… It’s not pure technology, like anything on this side, but it’s not pure magic, like any of those Equestrian artifacts, and it’s also not technology using magic for one or two things. As far as I can tell, the crystal is basically a biological computer, except magic is replacing all the biological needs and functions. I…” She staggered back onto her chair and started laughing.
“Hey.” Sunset leaned forward and snapped her fingers in front of Twilight’s face. “Still with me? No going mad scientist yet.”
Still giggling, Twilight swatted Sunset’s fingers away. “Sorry, but you kind of have to go mad scientist to study this. And I’m just talking about the watch! I haven’t even gotten to Moondog herself yet!” She twitched. “Or the batteries! The batteries.”
“The batteries?”
“The batteries!”
“The wrist strap!” yelled Moondog. “Just tell her, Twilight.”
Twilight waved the watch at Sunset again. “From what I can tell, they’re attuned by magic to absorb loose life energy. No, not anything we’ll miss, just bits and pieces here and there, like drops of water from the ocean. Because of the way Moondog interfaces with dreams — I still haven’t managed to figure out how that works yet — they’re especially focused on mental energy, meaning I can recharge it by thinking hard enough!” She stroked the watch lovingly. “It’s like this was made for me,” she cooed.
Already, Sunset was regretting handing the watch over. Just a quarter of an hour and Twilight was nearly beyond recovery. She cleared her throat. “So, anyway, I was tex-”
“Wait! Just one more thing.” Twilight pulled out a battered old laptop and a charging cable from a drawer. As the laptop started up, one end of the cable went into the laptop and the other-
“Whoa, no.” Sunset grabbed Twilight’s wrist before she could plug Moondog into the laptop. “We’re just getting rid of our bad dreams, not introducing an arcane intelligence to computing!”
“Sunset, it’s an immensely complicated piece of arcane technology from another universe and it can connect to USB! What kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t try?”
“One concerned with computer security?”
“Which is why I’m using an old laptop! If Moondog breaks anything, I won’t care! And the wireless is turned off so she can’t even leave by accident!”
“You don’t even know if Moondog is okay with it!”
“Okay with what? I don’t know the words you’re using and I can barely even see, you know!”
Sunset risked releasing Twilight’s wrist. Twilight still had enough self-control to not plug Moondog in right then and there, although it was easy to tell that she so wanted to. “There are these… machines in our world that can… work with information and-”
“They’re JUST machines? Not intelligent like me?”
“No!” Twilight said quickly. “Computers don’t do anything unless you tell them to! Sunset, this computer is absolutely clean. As in, ‘the hard drive was wiped and the OS is a fresh install and I haven’t even connected to the Internet yet’ clean.”
“I think I might be able to handle it,” said Moondog slowly. “I have some self-reparation spells I can run if things get bad. But I’ll let you decide, Sunset. You know this better than me.”
By now, the laptop had booted up. Sunset glanced at the desktop; no folders except the defaults. Twilight had the weird quality of preparing for arbitrary events so that she could be impulsive when she wanted to be, so having a clean computer around for exactly this specific situation wasn’t that out-of-place for her. There’d be no viruses, no autoplay programs, no nothing. And, well, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested. (Twilight had worn off on her quite a lot since they’d met.)
“Fine,” Sunset replied. “Go ahead, but be ready to unplug the watch if anything goes wrong.”
“Yes!” Twilight plugged the watch into the laptop; the battery readout turned green as a few sparkles were superimposed on it. “Let me know when anything changes!” She went to Devices and waited eagerly.
“Sure thing.”
A full minute later, nothing had happened. Not in Moondog, not on the computer. Twilight’s smile was slipping, millimeter by millimeter. “Anything?” she asked, her voice eager but tight.
“Nope.”
“Are the drivers or whatever bad?” asked Sunset. She wasn’t sure to be happy or disappointed that interlacing an automaton with a computer had yielded nothing.
“We don’t just not have the right drivers, the computer doesn’t even sense the watch at all. Except the watch is apparently charging, so…” Twilight unplugged and replugged the watch. “No…” Again. “No…” Again. “No…” Again. “No…”
“You know, insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
“Which can actually happen with computers as their state changes.” Unplug, replug. “Still no! Why must you torment me so, differing system architecture?” Unplug, no replug. Twilight slouched back in her chair. “Phooey.”
“So now what?” asked Moondog.
Sunset looked back at her phone. “I’ve been texting the girls about if they want to help. Fluttershy would be up to it but she has some work at the pet shop that needs to be done, Rarity insists she needs her beauty sleep, and Pinkie Pie is experiencing a sugar crash from trying to keep herself awake with a sugar rush.” She squinted at the mess onscreen. “At least, I think that’s what this gobbledegook means. Rainbow Dash and Applejack are both fine, though. Meet them at Has Beans in thirty minutes? Yes, I’ll pay.”
“Sure.” Twilight stared forlornly at the watch. “I need something to distract me from this grievous failure of science.”
“My world’s Twilight has written a treatise on me,” said Moondog.
“Oh!” Twilight’s mood turned sunny in an instant. “Why didn’t you say so? Can I borrow it once we’re done?”
“Maybe. It’s complicated.”
Rainbow Dash wasn’t looking that great when Sunset, Moondog, and Twilight arrived at Has Beans; her hair was in even more of a tangle than usual and she had large bags under her eyes. But she wasn’t slouching or yawning, and she looked just as raring to go as always; maybe she just wanted a chance to punch a baddie in the face. Applejack looked absolutely normal. Was she escaping the worst of Exterreri’s torments or was that just Applejack? Probably the latter.
Sunset picked up coffee for Rainbow and Applejack, donuts for the humans, and an out-of-the-way booth for everybody. Rainbow chugged her coffee like she was dehydrated while Applejack took long, steady sips. As they were drinking, Sunset said, “As I said, I wrote to Princess Twilight for help. She told me that man’s controlling our dreams with that staff of his and, to help…” She held up the watch. “She sent over Moondog.”
“Yo,” said Moondog.
Rainbow froze mid-drink and slowly lowered her cup. She stared her cup, then said, “I asked for coffee, not drugs, Sunset.”
“Um,” said Twilight, “technically, caffeine- Bad time, shutting up.” She stuffed a donut in her mouth to ensure that.
“Princess Luna made Moondog to help her manage dreams, so on this side of the portal, she’s an AI,” said Sunset. “Completely contained inside this, but, yes, she can still protect the dreams of whoever’s wearing it.”
Applejack frowned. “Huh.” She took the watch from Sunset and examined it. “She ain’t gonna go all HAE 9000 on us, is she?”
“It’s actually a common misconception that HAE just went crazy out of nowhere,” said Twilight. “She kind of did in the movie, but it’s clear in the book that her basic programming to help the crew and not withhold any information from them clashed with secret orders to her from their superiors to keep the true nature of their mission a secret, so she decided to just cut out the middleman and run the mission herself, thereby resolving the paradox. She was even working on a nonviolent solution, but then she heard — well, lip-read — that she was going to be disconnected for maintenance, and since she didn’t know what sleep was, she thought she was going to die, so her killing the crew was really closer to a misguided case of self-defense than the usual AI randomly turning into a murderbot.”
Everybody stared.
“Of course I read the book, it’s a book!” snapped Twilight. “And a classic, to boot!”
“I didn’t know there was a book,” said Rainbow.
“I don’t know what anybody’s even talking about,” mumbled Moondog.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “The point is that unless Luna gave Moondog irreconcilable commands, we won’t have to worry about her snapping on us.”
“Make good dreams and don’t hurt people,” Moondog said. “Those’re my two most basic commands. And, yes, it’s the species-nonspecific ‘people’, and not just ponies.”
“She helped protect my dreams last night,” said Sunset. “Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while. And she’s been working in Equestria for… I think almost two years? If she was going to snap, she’d’ve done it long before now.”
“Good enough for me.” Applejack passed the watch back to Sunset. “So Moondog got zapped over here, and then…”
“I wore her to bed last night and that man showed up again,” said Sunset. “Moondog protected me, and I read his mind and found that his name’s Exterreri and he’s at 113 Hay Street. I thought we should just nip this in the bud right now. Get out there, nab the staff-”
“Caduceus,” said Twilight.
“-from him, and finally have a good night’s sleep. Exterreri himself… I don’t know, we’ll figure it out.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Applejack. Pause. “Not a real good one, mind, but it’s more’n I got.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” said Sunset. “Anyone?” Nope.
“Yeah, let’s just get this over with,” Rainbow said, “before we realize how stupid we’re being.”
“I don’t think that’s ever stopped us before,” said Twilight.
“True. Anyway…” Rainbow stood up and stretched. “Can I see that watch?”
“So you can make anything in a dream?” Rainbow asked the watch.
“Pretty much,” confirmed Moondog.
Rainbow Dash and Applejack looked at each other. “Literally?” Rainbow asked again.
“Literally.” Moondog sounded slightly annoyed. “Literal literal, not figurative literal.”
“Even on this side of the portal?”
“The answer to the question you’re dancing around is yes, I can.”
Rainbow shoved the watch at Applejack. “Whydon’tyouaskMoondogsomethingokay.”
They were about halfway to 113 Hay St., getting to a more industrial side of town none of them had ever had a reason to go to. Buildings were getting less colorful, more concrete, and there was less traffic. Exactly the kind of place you’d expect to find someone hiding out. (How did that make sense?) Twilight and Sunset were some ways behind Rainbow Dash and Applejack, following them quietly. Twilight kept staring at the watch like it held the secrets of the universe.
“You can look at Moondog later, Twi,” Sunset said again.
“Sorry, but- I’m like a kid at Christmas and I have no idea what that super-huge gift under the tree is and I want to look at it sooooooo bad, but I can’t because- You know.”
“Kinda, yeah. What’ll you do if you can’t figure her out?”
Twilight looked at Sunset like she’d just said water wasn’t wet. “Huh?”
“Moondog’s a magical automaton capable of abstract thought. Siri has trouble understanding me if Pinkie Pie’s humming in the background.” Sunset grinned. “What’ll you do if, you know…” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “…understanding her is out of your league?”
Twilight tilted her head. “That’s what science is for. I’ll make it work. I’ll expand my league if I have to! I’ll probe her as best I can, even if-”
A sudden wave of pressure washed over Sunset. She flinched and reached up to grab her head, only to see centipedes crawling up and down her arm. Yelping, she tried to shake them off, but they clung like glue.
“Sunset?” asked Twilight. “What’s wrong?”
Sunset clawed at her arms as the centipedes scurried across her; she might as well have been grabbing at air. She didn’t feel them. Why didn’t she feel them?
“Are you okay?” Twilight grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Is-”
“Illusions,” gasped Sunset. That was the only explanation. She forced herself to stay still, even as her reflexes told her to rip off the things swarming around on her skin. “I-” A tinnitus-like buzz began droning in her ear, getting louder by the second. “I think it’s Ex-”
Twilight glanced at Sunset’s arm in confusion, only to get it a second later. “Rainbow!” she yelled. “We need Moondog now! C’mon, let’s get you to-”
Her voice went silent, and the only thing Sunset could hear was the buzz. Everything went black a second later. Sunset felt something tug at her arm; she let herself be blindly led over to a… wall? It felt cold, like concrete, but it was too smooth, too fake. The sensation of a dozen little snakes suddenly appeared on her arm, swiftly contracting into a dozen hundred little pinpricks. She instinctively smacked herself on the arm to get rid of them, but only got a throbbing pain for her trouble.
Then Moondog’s voice appeared in her ear, distorted but strong. “Sonuva- Some magic’s messing with your senses directly, making you hallucinate. This’s gotta be Exterreri. He probably did some more work with the staff and repurposed its magic again, something halfway between illusions and dreams. I’d be impressed if it weren’t so cruel.”
The world began tilting like one big carnival ride. The black kaleidoscoped into sickly blues, greens, and yellows. What few surfaces Sunset could feel were unnaturally smooth. She was adrift in a mire of her own senses. “Can’t you do something?” she gasped.
“Doing my best. Listen, don’t move. Even if everything around you is a hallucination, you’re still moving in the real world. He might even be messing with your proprioception.”
“Great,” muttered Sunset. She pulled her knees to her chin and gripped her jeans as tightly as she could. At least she’d be hard to budge.
“I’m trying to see if I can get you out, but normally I’d wake you up and you’re already awake, so- Sorry. I’m letting Twilight know what’s going on.” A brief pause. “She says… She says she’s going to stay with you, but Rainbow Dash and Applejack are still going. If they can get to Exterreri-”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. As her sight pinwheeled, Sunset took long, deep breaths, trying to stay calm. She imagined she could feel something on her hand, but that was probably just wishful thinking.
Then everything stopped. She was on a white floor in a white void, the world completely still. Completely silent. She was alone. Except for a familiar man, disheveled, wearing a dirty lab coat, holding a certain winged staff.
“Hello again,” sneered Exterreri.
Sunset’s fear at her helplessness boiled into anger, which quickly simmered down into a sort of curt apathy. Exterreri had already made up his mind for whatever he was going to do, so Sunset fell back on her only action available. It wasn’t like it’d make things worse. “Hey,” she said disdainfully. “Short time, no see. New fashion sense?”
Exterreri’s expression grew even uglier. “You insolent little-”
“It’s really not doing you any favors. The black robes were a little cliché, but they were classic, you know?”
Exterreri pulled the Caduceus back like a baseball bat. As Sunset willed herself to keep thinking, It’s a hallucination, it’s not real, it’s just an illusion, she said, “Clichés are clichés for-”
Thwack. Exterreri smashed the Caduceus over Sunset’s head with all his might. Pain lanced through her skull for the briefest of instants before she reminded herself it was an illusion and her body decided to stop caring that it hurt. Somehow, the pain wasn’t painful. “-a reason, after all,” she continued. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t be clichés. Since I’m awake, I’m guessing you don’t have as much control over this as usual and don’t have your supreme fashion powers.”
Exterreri prodded her in the chest with the Caduceus. “You- If you don’t-”
Sunset resisted the urge to smack the Caduceus away. Keep yourself still. “And could you keep the clichés going for one more thing? Why us? Why my friends and me? What did we do?”
“Does it matter?” growled Exterreri.
“Yeah. It does.”
Exterreri stared at Sunset. Sunset stared at Exterreri. The idea of flinching was alien to her. Even if Moondog wasn’t around, she was done. No running. No fear. If this guy wanted her to dance to his tune, she was going to change the music every single chance she got.
He blinked and backed away a single step. “What’s the use of power such as this…” He twirled the Caduceus around in his grip. “…if you’re not going to use it?” He chuckled as he gazed at it — a motion, Sunset noted, which meant he didn’t have to look her in the eye. “With this, anyone’s perceptions are mine. No one — no one — can resist it. Do you know how fun it is to watch people run around like ants? So why not make them do exactly that? This staff was practically made for that. You seven… Well. You were just the first ones the staff’s magic found, like it was drawn to you. No hard feelings.” He tried a bit too hard to make his smile look like one of control and self-confidence.
“That’s- That’s it?” yelled Sunset. “You’ve been putting my friends and I through torture every night just because you wanted to feel big?”
His facade vanished in an instant, replaced with rage. “I have more power than you ever will!” screamed Exterreri. “I can shape this realm with a thought! I can-”
“And you were lazy, too!” In all honesty, that ticked Sunset off more than anything else, the idea that she was just the first victim available rather than anything else. What happened to villains with class? “You didn’t even try to get back at someone who wronged you, which, look, I can understand that. I tried it myself, once. But you just picked the first seven random people the staff found and-”
“SHUT UP!” Exterreri dove, pinning her to the wall by pressing the Caduceus lengthwise across her neck. “You don’t get to mock me, not anymore!” he snarled. “I can make you feel whatever I want you to feel! And you will shut your mouth if you know what’s good for you!”
Her windpipe was closed off, but still Sunset breathed. The more she reminded herself that it was an illusion, the easier it was to ignore. As Exterreri stared at her with wild eyes, Sunset replied, “Bite me.”
A vein pulsed on Exterreri’s head and he giggled. “You know what? Sure. Let’s start with army ants. Everywhere. I’m sure you’ll-”
Something grabbed his hair and wrenched him back; he fell to the ground in a tangle, managing to still hold on to the Caduceus. He tried to get up, but Moondog planted a foot on his chest and forced him back down as easily as if she were stepping on a blade of grass. Her eyes blazed as she rumbled, “No.”
Sunset’s grip on her pants slackened and she almost stood up, only stopping herself at the last second. “Hey,” she said. “Took you long enough.”
“Yep. Sorry.” Moondog didn’t look away from Exterreri. “Not exactly a dream, so it took me a bit longer to figure out how to get in.”
The sapphire on the Caduceus pulsed and Exterreri vanished into mist. Rolling her eyes, Moondog grabbed one of the wisps and cracked it like a whip; the mist collapsed back into Exterreri, tumbling across the ground like he’d been thrown. Moondog was already standing over him when he came to a stop. She slowly advanced on him as he tried to shuffle away, his eyes wide, and said, “You’re new here, aren’t you? Oh, and try exiting this ‘dream’. Go on.” The way she smiled made Sunset think of a vampire. “Try it.”
Exterreri mouthed something uncouth. The sapphire began spluttering, but not in any way Sunset had seen before. Rather than looking like it was struggling to stay alight, it looked like it was struggling to go out. Exterreri’s form flickered, never vanishing completely.
“How-?” gasped Exterreri. He grabbed the Caduceus and wrenched the sapphire out completely; nothing changed. “This is-”
“Everything’s working just fine,” said Moondog. “It’s just that I’m providing the power for the staff now, not that little gem.” The sapphire crumbled to dust in Exterreri’s hands. “So here’s the deal. You are here. And as long as I say so, you will stay here.”
“P-please…” Exterreri looked away and shielded his face with his hands. “Please don’t-”
“Oh, I’m not going to do anything,” Moondog laughed. “Seriously, what kind of pathetic sadist do you think I am? You? No, I’m just going to keep you here until I’m bored. And that might take a while.” She crouched down next to him. “So, tell me: how does it feel, being on that side of the power gap? Feel good? Feel like something you want to experience over and over and over? Feel fair?”
Exterreri didn’t say anything.
“Didn’t think so. Keep that in mind when you leave, will you?” She turned her back on him, walked over to Sunset, and sat down cross-legged in front of her. “Hey. You doing alright?”
“Eh.” Sunset wiggled her hand. “I’ve been better.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get you out. Keeping him-” Moondog jerked her head in Exterreri’s direction. “-in here keeps him from prepping for Applejack and Rainbow Dash at all, but I still can’t figure out how to release you from him while not releasing him from me.” Pause. “Although, if you want, I can-”
“No, no, keep him here,” Sunset said quickly. “I can live with this for a few minutes if it keeps them safe.” With Exterreri out of the way, it was merely dull rather than scary. “Speaking of being safe, are you really just- dumping your own energy in to keep the spell running?”
“Um. Yes, but it’s not as easy as I’m making it sound to him. It’s- Don’t worry about me, I can handle it. … Yes. Really. Stop looking at me like that.” Moondog twitched and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and you’ve got someone who wants to talk to you.” She vanished, leaving Exterreri standing over Sunset. He was fiddling with the Caduceus, trying and failing to look contrite.
Absolute silence. Sunset swore she could almost hear her heart beating. Several times, Exterreri looked like he was on the verge of saying something but didn’t want to go through with it.
“I-” Exterreri took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he recited. “I-”
“No, you’re not,” Sunset said flatly. “You’re not sorry for anything.”
Taken aback, Exterreri flinched. “No, really, I-”
“Actually, let me rephrase that,” cut in Sunset. “You are sorry. Sorry that you bit off more than you can chew. Sorry that you have consequences to face. Not sorry that you did anything to hurt me and my friends. You’re just saying that so Moondog’ll let you out.”
Exterreri’s grip on the Caduceus tightened and he clenched his jaw. He twitched, glanced at Moondog, and stayed silent.
“But you know the funny thing? You probably could be sorry, if you really wanted to,” said Sunset. “Believe me, I’ve been there. Getting that power is never as satisfying as you think it’ll be and it’s lonely at the top. Oh, you’ll say you don’t need anyone else, but you’ve told yourself that for so long you don’t know you’re lying anymore. But I know you can change, because I did it myself. Wanna talk about it?”
Sunset and Exterreri looked at each other for a long moment. Then he snickered. “Do you have any idea how sappy you sound?”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with sappy,” said Sunset. “Sap makes syrup. Don’t you like syrup?”
“But you… Pfeh. You’d never understand. I’m not going to get psychoanalyzed by some teen girl.” Exterreri spat on the ground between them.
At least, he tried. The spit vanished halfway down and Moondog reappeared at his side, holding a water bottle. “No! Bad villain!” Squirt. “Bad!”
Exterreri flinched and held up a hand to block the worst of water; it curved around in midair and hit him anyway. “Will you-”
Then another voice broke through, a voice belonging to nobody in the dream, a voice that sounded like it was on the other side of a thin wall. “BANZAI!” Rainbow Dash yelled.
With a sound like a whipcrack, Sunset was back in reality. She was sitting on the ground, slouched against a cold concrete wall. Groaning, she blinked blearily and looked up. Twilight was kneeling at her side and holding her hand. She breathed in sharply when she saw Sunset raise her head. “Sunset?” she asked quietly. “Are-”
“I’m fine,” Sunset grunted. She pushed herself up the wall, dragging her fingers across every single little divot in the concrete; they felt real enough. She ached, but at least that meant she was out of the illusion. “Exterreri-”
“Moondog told us,” Twilight said, squeezing Sunset’s hand. “Attacking you with illusions directly. Rainbow and Applejack-”
“I heard.” Sunset massaged her temples with her free hand. “I think they got to him in the real world; I heard Rainbow ready to punch his lights out.”
“They’ll be fine.” Twilight squeezed tighter.
“Definitely. How’re you doing, Moondog?”
Moondog’s groan was a little bit more staticky than usual. “Ow. My head. How can my head hurt when I don’t even have a head? That’s not fair.”
Sunset glanced at the battery readout. 92%. Huh. After Moondog’s energy dump, she’d been expecting a lot worse than that.
“But alright. GAOW, pain sucks. Gonna shut up for a while. Hurts to talk.”
“Do you feel up to walking?” Twilight asked. “Rainbow Dash and Applejack might need our help. I mean, it’s not likely, but-”
“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine.” Sunset took a few tentative steps. When her head didn’t start spinning, she upped her pace a little. Still no spinning. “Definitely fine. Let’s go.”
As they walked down the street, hand in hand, Twilight said, “You’re sure you’re fine? I don’t want to sound like a worrywart, but it was scary seeing you like that, Sunset. You kept looking right through me and saying things that didn’t make sense. You were so out of it, it was like you lost your mind. Moondog told me you were okay, but…” Shuddering, she squeezed Sunset’s hand. “Hearing you were okay while seeing you like that wasn’t totally reassuring.”
“Trust me, I’m fine,” Sunset said. Indeed, she didn’t have any headaches and the world wasn’t tipping over. “Would I lie to you?”
“Erm…”
Sunset stared. Twilight was suddenly unwilling to look her in the eye and was clicking her teeth together. “Twilight…” Sunset said in a low voice.
“In the right situation, maybe! Not necessarily now!”
“…Okay, you’re right, bad example. But I mean about something as serious as-”
Her phone buzzed. Acting on reflex, Sunset pulled it out and checked the caller ID: Rainbow Dash. “Hang on,” she said to Twilight, “I need to take this.” Praying neither Rainbow nor Applejack had been hurt, she picked up. “Rainbow Dash? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. So’s AJ. How about you?”
“Also fine. Twilight’s still with me and we’re heading over to you now.”
“Alright. So, uh. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Bad news.” You always started with the bad news. That way, you’d get the good news last and it’d not only lift your spirits from the bad news, it’d stick in your memory a bit better.
“Exterwhatever got away. He, uh, took me down-”
Applejack yelled something incomprehensible on the other end of the line. “I’ll tell them LATER!” Rainbow yelled back. “They don’t need to hear every little detail right now! Sheesh… Anyway, um, he took me down, ran to a car out back, and sped away. No clue where he went. Sorry.”
“As long as you’re both okay. And the good news?”
“Applejack wrestled the staff from him before he left. We’ve still got it.”
Sunset promptly broke into a sprint, dragging Twilight with her. “Wait there,” she said. “We’re coming.”
113 Hay Street was an old warehouse that, from the outside, looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. However, that clashed with the shiny new door that had obviously been put in recently and even more obviously been kicked in by a superstrong teenage girl even more recently. There was a set of skid marks in the parking lot, and Sunset swore she could smell the burning rubber. Neither Rainbow Dash nor Applejack were outside, so Twilight picked up a few stones to use as telekinetic missiles and entered the warehouse, Sunset close behind.
The room was mostly empty, and the places where it wasn’t were a mess. One of the corners looked like it’d been a primitive lab, with tables and laptops and all sorts of jury-rigged scientific equipment hooked up to a familiar sapphire. One of the tables was overturned and most of the equipment was laying on the floor, broken; Twilight gave a little squeak of distress. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were hanging out in one of the corners, Applejack examining the Caduceus (minus the crown sapphire), Rainbow massaging her head. Applejack looked up when she heard Sunset’s and Twilight’s footsteps. “Hey! Girls!” She waved the Caduceus. “Over here!”
Up close, Applejack was grimy but unhurt, while Rainbow was already sporting a large bruise on her face. As Twilight went to examine what equipment remained, Sunset crouched next to Rainbow. “I thought you said you were fine!” she gasped.
But Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I am, Mom. It’s just a bruise, not a broken nose.”
“You’re sure?” Sunset winced as she peered at the bruise. It was already a deep red that did not do Rainbow’s face any favors, and it’d only get worse over the day. “What’d you do, run into a wall?”
“Yep.”
Sunset and Twilight exchanged looks. “Um…”
“So Applejack kicks down the door like a boss,” Rainbow said in an embarrassed “let’s get it over with” tone, “and I run in and nail Exterreri like right in the jaw as he’s… astral projecting or something, he didn’t see me when he should’ve. I say a cool one-liner-”
“Rainbow, that quip wouldn’ta been cool in a detective show at the North Pole,” said Applejack.
“-but then he waves the staff,” Rainbow continued loudly, “and everything goes all weird. Illusions, you know? I super-speed up, try to get him, and totally miss. Bam! Right into the wall.” She pointed at a dent in said wall. “I’m gonna spend the rest of today just lying down. Probably all of tomorrow, too.” She prodded her bruise and flinched.
“You can start by not poking where you got hurt,” Sunset said.
“I didn’t see much after that,” said Rainbow. “By the time I got back up, Exterrari or Whatever’s running for the door, but Applejack has the staff.”
“Weren’t hard,” Applejack said, shrugging. “He was so focused on Rainbow that he didn’t see me. I tackled him, we wrestled a bit, and when I got the staff, he just cut and ran to his car. You’da thought there’d been a bonfire from the smoke he left.” She sighed and shook her head. “Didn’t have a chance o’ followin’ him, sorry.”
“That’s fine,” said Sunset. “You got the staff from him, and that’s all we wanted.” She cringed one last time at Rainbow’s bruise and stood up. “Find anything, Twilight?”
Twilight didn’t look up; she’d found a loose collection of notes and was poring over them. “This is all waveform analysis,” she said. “Oscilloscopes, spectrum analyzers, vectorscopes, sweep generators, function generators… Wow, I really need to brush up on my EM fields. He’s…” She skimmed through the pages quickly. “Okay, it looks like that jewel is the power source, but the wings on the Caduceus are the… projectors? They shape the illusions. But Exterreri reasoned that if it shaped illusions based on the user’s thoughts, then it ought to go back into someone else’s thoughts and he just needed to muck about with the waveform. That’s what all these machines are for: taking the magic from this gem and altering its frequency to give different effects. He even built an array to retune the magic once it’d left the Caduceus and change it into something else. That’s how he got into our dreams. It was…” She paused and slowly pointed at the wreckage around the broken table. “Right there.” She winced.
“Sorry,” muttered Rainbow.
“It’s okay, he sketched it all out.” Twilight’s voice was only slightly forced. “He was comprehensive, if nothing else. He recorded so much stuff that I could spend a week reading it all.” She pulled out a random sheet and began reading it. “If he wasn’t so petty, he could’ve done a lot of good with this work.”
“You could say that about a looot of supervillains,” said Rainbow. “Remember that one Spider-Mare pterodactyl dude with the gene-writing tech? Spidey said he could cure cancer with that, but he was all, ‘But I don’t want to cure cancer. I want to turn people into dinosaurs.’”
“Bad example,” said Sunset. “Who here wouldn’t be okay with being a dinosaur?”
Nobody raised their hand.
“See?”
Twilight cleared her throat. “Anyway, for someone who — I think — never encountered any magic before the Caduceus, this is pretty impressive. I don’t know if the other Twilight will be interested, but I’ll make copies to go back with her. And I might want some help getting all this stuff back to my house- Don’t look at me like that! Exterreri was using it for evil and do you know how expensive some of this stuff is? I’m doing it all a favor!”
Applejack raised a finger as if to say something, paused, and sighed. “I’ll see if’n I can borrow the truck once Big Mac’s through with it,” she said.
“What about the dude himself?” Rainbow asked. Wincing slightly, she managed to stand up. “Are we just gonna let him get away?”
“Where did he go?” asked Sunset. When Rainbow didn’t respond, she continued, “Letting him get away’s all we can do right now. But we’ve got the Caduceus and we’re ready for him if he tries anything else. It won’t be as bad as last week.”
“It better not,” mumbled Rainbow.
“That Moondog gal’s awfully quiet,” said Applejack. “Is she-?”
“Fine,” said Moondog. “Just achy and don’t have much to add to the conversation.” (Sunset checked the battery readout. 93%. Wow.) “I think you have everything under control.”
“Yeah.”
After a silent moment, Rainbow suddenly said, “I want a donut. I’m going back to Has Beans. Anybody who wants to come with is free to join me.” Without waiting for an answer, she left the warehouse.
As the group walked down the street, Twilight glanced over her shoulder and winced. “You think it’ll be okay?” she asked. “The equipment, I mean. There’s a lot of stuff there and I’m worried it won’t be there when we get back.”
Sunset squeezed Twilight’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. What, do you think there’s a biker gang driving around, looking for wave analysis equipment?”
“That’s the next post-apocalyptic craze,” Rainbow said immediately. “Math Max. Warbands of heavily-armed nerds roam the blasted landscape, pillaging every oscilloscope, voltmeter, and prism they can. And only the master of the slide rule can stop them-”
“Who uses slide rules anymore?” cut in Applejack.
“Post-apocalypse, remember? All the calculators and computers are busted.”
“And how’d they know how to make ’em?”
“Nerds, remember? I bet-”
Rainbow Dash and Applejack were walking at a faster pace than Sunset and Twilight; their voices petered out as they got further away. Twilight turned to Sunset, grinning sweetly. “So,” she said, “now that we’re done with the thing Moondog came over here for…” She took a long, deep breath. “CanItakeacloserlookatMoondog?” She thumped herself on the chest and coughed. “I mean, she’s a computer, she’s got to be able to connect to another computer somehow, and I’m going to figure out that somehow.”
“Earlier, you tried and didn’t get anything.”
“Because I only had a minute to do anything and couldn’t get more complicated than the new-device wizard. Give me some time and access to a command line, and I know I can get Moondog talking to my laptop.”
“If all you wanted me to do was say something to it,” Moondog said wryly, “you just needed to ask. Don’t know what-”
“On an informational protocol level, obviously.”
Sunset wasn’t so sure what Twilight wanted really was possible, but she didn’t want to burst her bubble. “I guess. If Moondog’s okay with it.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Moondog. “But I was built with techniques that don’t exist in this world, so don’t expect to get anywhere in the process. I mean, why would you, you’re knocking yourself out… Why is that even a phrase, anyway?”
“Because language.” Twilight snatched the watch from Sunset. “We’ve got an entire day, you and me. I will unlock your computer-y secrets, no matter what it takes.”
“C’mon, please?” asked human Twilight, clutching the watch tightly and nearly shying away from the statue. “I just need a little more time, it went by so fast-”
“You had her for almost twelve hours!” protested pony Twilight.
“And twelve hours and ten minutes is a little more time than twelve hours!”
Twilight-P sighed and rubbed her head. “You know you’re talking to yourself, right? You and I both know that twelve hours and ten minutes will become twelve hours and twenty minutes will become twelve hours and forty minutes which la de dah. I’ve lost track how many times it’s happened to me.”
“Twilight, I practically had to drag you here,” said Sunset. “You need to let it go.”
“But artificial intelligeeeeeeence! I can’t just give up!”
“You worked on me the entire day,” said Moondog, “and didn’t get anywhere. You’re NOT ‘just’ giving up. It’s just not something you can do in this world. I really need to get back to Equestria.”
But Twilight wasn’t listening. Looking Twilight-P in the eye, she said, “You know how much I want to study this. You know how long I can keep this up. How long can you keep this up?”
Twilight-P folded her arms and tapped her foot. “Sure, I’m only a few moons away from being given control over an entire country, but yeah, maybe if a high schooler says ‘please’ enough, I’ll cave.”
“Please?” asked Twilight earnestly, proving she either nailed sarcasm or didn’t get it at all.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“NO! Moondog’s an agent of the Crown and-” Twilight-P blinked and looked to the watch. “Are you? Officially, I mean.”
“I think my legal status is still technically in limbo,” said Moondog. “Mom hasn’t done anything about it as far as I know, and the bureaucracy is probably like acid to me. We should probably do something about that before Mom abdicates.” A snort. “Can you imagine the Throne of Dreams going to someone who isn’t even an Equestrian citizen? Although if the children of citizens are citizens-”
“Either way, Moondog has a duty to Equestria and we can’t just leave her here for you to study. Don’t get me wrong, I understand completely. We still can’t do it.”
Sunset put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “Sorry, Twi. Maybe later we-”
“The book!” Twilight yelled, making everyone jump. “Moondog said you wrote a book about her. Can I at least read that?”
But for some reason, Twilight-P turned anxious at the thought of sharing books, of all things. She began playing with her hair and looked away, downcast. “Okay, that… It’s not that easy. See, it’s kinda… How do I put this…”
“You know me!” protested Twilight. “You are me! I’ll take good care of it.”
Twilight-P shook her head. “It’s not that, it’s- You have an electronic reader, right?”
“Something that lets me carry around dozens and dozens of books while still being smaller than a dinner plate? Why wouldn’t I?”
“I can load it onto there, but… it’ll take a while.”
“Why do you need me to use that?”
“It’s a single ebook,” Twilight said slowly, staring at her ereader’s screen, “and yet it takes up almost nine hundred megabytes.” A pause. “Nine hundred megabytes.” A longer pause. “Nine. HUNDRED. Mega. Bytes.” An even longer pause. “I’ve played video games that take up less space than that.” An even longer pause still. “Well, better get cracking!”