//------------------------------// // Breaking the Physics // Story: Error's Vanguard // by Stalin the Stallion //------------------------------//         “Do the walk, do the walk,” he hummed, the pony in his arms staring at up him. “Don’t be fool, go to school. Do not watch, no don’t touch. Do not throw that thing you have.”         “Are... are you singing?” Twilight asked.         The trainer looked down at the tiny mare he held, saying in his most extravagant voice, “I sing the song of my people.”         “You mean, like a... a mating call?” she hesitantly asked, and he replied with a scoff. “Well, if a chick were to catch what I was singing about, heh, she’s a keeper.” “You mean, you’re singing a song from your heart?” Stepping across a pair of large stones to avoid sloshing in the bog, he chuckled. “That certain costumed hero can be my heart any day...” Hardly able to contain a grin, he said, “It’s like that time I was kicked by Sicily. That dude was beating on me with the middle of Italy. Have you ever been mauled by the landmass of an entire country? No? Well, I have.” “Um...” Shaking his head, the trainer stepped back on dry (for certain values of that word) land. “Never you mind, just a bit of silliness from a man who was insane.” A pause. “I’m going in the right way, right?” “Well, you’re not going the left way,” she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Oh, sarcasm. That’s original,” he responded. “What do you expect me to say?” she asked. “And for that matter–” Twilight hesitated, causing the trainer to look down at her “–what are you?” “Gonna have to be more specific,” he chortled, prompting her to huff. “Okay... so just what is such a thing as a tall, hairless, pink-skinned ape thing.” “Pink skin,” he laughed. “That’s the most cliche, unoriginal description for humans ever, lady!” “It is?” “I’ve only heard it in every boring sci-fi ever.” “Sci-fi?” He rolled his eyes. “Never you mind.” Footsteps falling flat, he paused. “Wait.” “What?” Looking dead ahead, he said, “You just asked what a human is. You were unable to be caught via Pokeball. You speak my language without much in the way of a foreign accent...” “I was sort of wondering that last one too...” The trainer jerked his head forwards, his eyes staring into Twilight’s, as if he were trying to burrow into her brain. “None of these make sense. Particularly points uno y dos.” Twilight tried to shrink back from his vision, but found herself held too tightly to squirm. Instead, she merely was able to stare upwards into the human’s beady, comparatively lifeless little eyes. “Uh... are you o-okay?” “Reality check,” he stated, his tone bereft of emotions: “tiny, talking Ponyta-like pokemon thing; no green alien babes; you were unable to be caught, not because of my ineptitude but because of the Pokeball’s flat out refusal to acknowledge you as a Pokemon; and, of course, your legitimate ignorance of–” he swapped to a pointlessly dramatic down, over exaggerating his facial expression to match “–man.” “You know, I think I can walk home from here,” she muttered, her eyes darting every which way. He took a depth, long breath. “Thus, as my space alien and emotionally dead companion can confirm, I’m in a number of equally implausible scenarios.” “No, no, really – my leg is magically better...” “I present to you each some... evidence hypotheses stuff. First implausible scenario: I’m in Hell, but judging from all the swampiness, and because I read Dante (take that, parents! Trying to make me go outside and become a Pokemon trainer, instead of getting an education! Who’s laughing now‽), I must assume I’d be in the Fifth Circle... which is odd, considering that, only now, as I lay dead, do I realize I’ve spent most of my life making animals fight each other, thus that would make you think I’d be in the Seventh Circle, but no. “Second thingy thing: I’m hallucinating. But since I passed out underwater (and because Atlantis was explained to be a myth by Plato himself), that’s unlikely. Third terza rima: I broke through reality and am now across the universe. But considering that doing that would sort of violate all science in her tender nether regions, that’s unlikely.” At the mentioning of “tender nether regions”, Twilight felt the skin beneath her fur coat began to crawl. “Thing cuatro: I was teleported into a parallel dimension of some sort, one which is some connected to my home-verse via white hole and black hole exchanges sciences. Thus, I am both in my world and not; ergo, I have a limited window to return home before the immediately wormhole brings me home. In short, a bunch of science just happened to me! “But considering how my own knowledge of how reality works is based mostly off that one time Mr. Fish and I accidentally crashed into an operation of the Cartels and destroyed the whole organization with fire... And all those fumes sort of got to me. Then Mr. Fish and I went to a planetarium and pretty much all of the major museums in that city, as well as bought all the seasons of the Universe and Big Bang Theory and watched those all during a single marathon.... Learned so much during all that. And because–” he gritted his teeth “–mom and dad refused to let me watch educational television, saying how it’ll rot my brain when I should be outside making animals fight each other to the near death...” He blinked, ungritting his teeth. “Er, in short – I have no idea what I’m talking about. I mean, in all likelihood I got the bad end of some crazy psychic Pokemon which probably teleported to me some kind of...” He spun a hand in a circle, as if trying to catch the right words out of thin air. The trainer muttered, “Ah, wossname? I think... probably some kinda preserve or something... maybe on a long-lost continent... Perhaps some billionaire’s playground for his rare/extinct pokemon? That sounds reasonable... other than the fact that it makes no sense.” “Um, so about that whole ‘letting me go’ buisness,” Twilight intoned, squirming.         “You know, for un pequeño purple pferd-poké, you’re rather heavy – quit squirming.”         “What did you call me?”         “I just let slip a slew of alliterations,” he boasted. “I’m so witty that... something something something. But the point is, lose some weight, chubby thighs.”         “I do not have chubby thighs!” Twilight snapped.         “Hoh hoh,” he chuckled. “Seems like somebody’s been teased for having–” his lips curled into a Cheshire-Cat-like grin “–a certain weight to her step.” “I am not fat!” she retorted, squirming in his arms. “And this coming from some anorexic ape!”         “Oooh, gettin’ fiesty, are we, love?” he said in an insufferably coy tone, setting Twilight on top of boulder. “But nice alliteration, adds appeal.”         “Hah hah,” she deadpanned.         “Ah, whatsa matta? Is mine miniscule, might-maidened, mädchen making mean a mí?” He snapped his finger at the mare. “See? And I just made them up and ranted on in three different languages. Only one of which I speak... high school was no help.”         “I want to ask, but I don’t.”         “And for the record,” he said, jabbing a finger in Twilight’s direction, “how are you speaking that?”          “Speaking?”         “Language. You seem to lack a knowledge of either me or–” he, again, dropped his tone into way beyond exaggerated “–man.”         “Why do you keep saying that word like that?”         “What word?” He took a deep breath. “Man?”         “Yes, that – why?”         He shrugged. “Dunno. It’s from something, I think, but I forget. Just that, for some reason unbeknownst (is that even a word?) to me, human media tends to portray anything we do to the environment as bad. Environmentalist hippies seems to think that man is Cthulu or something. I, for one, see no problem with enslaving bright, colorful animals and making them fight to the death for my sadistic entertainment. (That’s how they phrase it. Don’t it just sound silly?)”         “That... sounds horrible,” Twilight said, her tone cautious, her head angling a few degrees away from the human.         “Funny thing is, man is actually the masculine and singular term for a member of my species. But due to patriarchal thingies, masculine words include females because... I don’t know – my Spanish teacher didn’t know why some words were girly and other manly.”         “Masculine and feminine words? Like in French?”         He nodded. “Yeah, it’s la versus lo... Una abuela versus un abuelo... Stop distracting me!”         “I’m not–”         “I’m tired of slogging through the muck,” he opined over Twilight. Frowning, he fished about his waist, checking the six little balls at his side. Pursing his lips to the side, he put a certain capsule into his hands. Then, squeezing it, the ball grew in size until it fit nicely into the palm of his hand.         Twilight blinked. “Woah, woah, woah!”         “What?” he asked, glancing at the swamp.         “That ball, it-it just grew some five times its size!”         “So?”         She threw her forehooves up. “So‽ You just violated Conservation of Energy! That’s not just some idle guideline or helpful suggestion, it’s implied by the form of the quantum Hamiltonian!”         “And?”         “And‽” Twilight snarled. “Rejecting it destroys unitary and then you get faster-than-light signaling!”         A pause.         “Neeerd!” the human jeered.         “I am not a nerd!” she snapped.         “You’re a nerd who failed physics class.”         “I got an A+ in physics!”         “And I failed chemistry,” he said, offering Twilight a sagely nod.         “That’s not good!”         “Watch and see.” He held the ball up to Twilight. “Pokeball, see?” Flicking his wrist, he threw the ball out into the swamp.         “Why–” Twilight tried, only to have her eyes nearly melt out of her skull.         It appeared with a flash of blinding sun-like light – a serpentine monster rising above the bog like a tower. The beast was gigantic, its head rising to the height of hydra, though the newcomer was infinitely more muscular. Turning around, it eyed Twilight, causing her blood to freeze, her heart refusing to beat. To Twilight, the monster’s expression looked almost bored, as if it had better things to do but was fulfilling some annoying obligation. Then, for no good reason, the serpent let its head fall in a controlled descent, landing its head next to the human. “Mr. Fish!” the trainer said, opening his arms and embracing a part of the giant's face. “Little pony, this is Mr. Fish, and he’s my friend.” Twilight’s face was utterly blank, as if someone had gone and flipped the “off” on Twilight’s “capable of having expressions, On/Off” switch. She just sat there, her jaw occasionally moving as if to speak but nothing coming out. Her eyes were locked to Mr. Fish, the Pokemon’s eyes not even acknowledging the mare. “Um, Mr. Fish, I think we broke her,” Lucian said, poking with a finger Twilight’s chest. “Hmm... Oh well. Hey, Mr. fish, use surf!” Mr. Fish swiveled his eyes to his trainer, shaking his head. I... what? Did you just–” his eyes went wide “–disobey me...?” Twilight babbled something incomprehensible. “I agree,” the trainer dismissed, waving a hand at the mare. Setting said hand to his chin, he asked, “What’s the problem, Mr. Fish?” Mr. Fish rolled over onto his back, his eyes still to the human. “That explains nothing,” Lucian muttered. “H-h-h-how?” Twilight sputtered. “How what? How now brown cow?” “That’s... a giant monster,” she muttered, her eyes so wide as to look they they were about to pop. “His name is Mr. Fish,” Lucian replied, hugging Mr. Fish’s face, “and I love him.” Pulling away from Mr. Fish, the trainer continued, “Yeah, he was my first Pokemon. Well, I actually got him as a Magikarp. I found him just sort of... flopping in the grass one day.” “I...” “Yeah, see, I was just chillin’ at home, playing video games when my mom burst in. She says, ‘Lucian, you’re almost an adult now and you haven’t become a Pokemon trainer! You keep working in school, and your lack of Pokemon shames your father and I!’ So, she and dad sent me out to mow the lawn.” “Mow... the... lawn?” “No, no, you don’t get it – wild pokemon live in the tall grass! They were just... out there, rolling about on the lawn. So then, as I’m trying to mow, this guy in a lab coat comes out of nowhere, telling me about how I’m now a Pokemon trainer or some shit. After asking me if I was a girl or boy–” he shivered “–he told me to come select a Pokemon.” The trainer shook his head. “So, I just grabbed the nearest one on the lawn – this red fish thing, about as big as my chest. Guy goes, ‘Are you sure you don't want a better one?’ And I’m like, ‘But we’ve already bonded, see? I named him Mr. Fish and he loves me.’ So then I was formally kicked out of home and branded a Pokemon trainer, thus unable to ever get a steady source of income. But, as it turns out, if you use a fish as a club, soon enough you’ll get really good at Pokemon battles. Then this one day, after I mauled a Totodile with Mr. Fish, Mr. Fish just – poof! – turned into the mighty beast before you. Ever since then, I have ridden him and proclaimed myself the king of everything. I’ve become so good a Pokemon battles that, well, I was able to keep a steady source of income by beating on folks. Cool huh?” Again, he hugged Mr. Fish. “He’s so awesome... if a little derpy.” “Derpy?” Twilight intoned, cocking a brow. Patting Mr. Fish, the trainer said, “Yeah, I think it has something to do with the fact that I used him as a blunt object for so long, back when he was just a Magikarp. But that doesn't matter, I still love him.” “So... a fish, about the size of your chest,” Twilight stated, “turned into that house-sized serpent?” The trainer frowned, scratching his head. “Yeah, that about covers it. Why, does something not make sense?” “Not make sense? It’s impossible!” she snapped. “Cool story, sis,” he dismissed, turning back to Mr. Fish. “So, buddy, why don't you use surf? Are we out of double-P? I mean, you shouldn’t be, you know, since we went to the Pokemon Center before we left for Cinnabar.” Mr. Fish groaned. “That’s not very helpful!” the trainer snapped. “I don’t speak your language, Mr. Fish! I mean, help me out here, man.”         From the murky depths of the swamp, rose a giant head. Its eyes swiveled about, its body lurking beneath the surface. Then, for no reason it could discern, a gigantic blue fish tail brushed up against it. The head, still mostly submerged, angled itself to stare at the tail. Again the tail swished against the head, this time the head inched towards the tail, causing the tail to rub it directly.         “Does anybody else see that?” the trainer asked, pointing out into the bog.         “What?” Twilight said, turning her head to follow the trainer’s line of sight. There, camping out in the water, was a huge scaly head.         Mr. Fish, his head towering above the now-disturbed swampwater, stared down at the head, baring his fangs. Growling, he watched as the one head was flanked by three more identical heads. Then the heads, all glistening wet, rose up from the water, sending sizable waves to the shore. All four heads balanced themselves atop long, slender necks, lacking the raw muscle of Mr. Fish; at their max, they each rose to about the height of Mr. Fish.         “Ooh, you’re a big one, ain’t ya?” the trainer whistled, pulling out his Pokedex. Frowning, he slid the device away. “Damn thing don’t know what this thing is, either. Hey, pony girl, you got any idea what Mr. Fourhead (get it? ‘Cause, you know, four heads, forehead.) er, what Mr. Fourhead wants? Or is?”         Twilight, her head aching, uttered, “That’s a hydra.” She slumped her head forwards, saying through gritted teeth, “All I wanted to do was pick an herb, but noooo.”         “How do you think I feel?” Lucian replied, watching Mr. Fish watch the hydra watch him back. “Mr. Fish and I were having a gay old time on our trip to Cinnabar. Next thing I know, I’m here. So, lady, please don’t tell me how bad your life is, especially if I ain’t whining about my own. Okay?”         “I don’t mean to state the obvious here,” she said in a snide yet worried tone, “but perhaps we should, I don’t know... run!”         “Can’t.”         “Why‽”         He rolled his eyes. “Since we’ll just run into another one or so.” He shrugged. “Might as well capture this new one.”         “What‽” Twilight barked.         “Eh, it’s just my luck seems to involve me keep running into these things,” he said with another shrug. “If I catch this weird thing, I'ma... I don’t know, but I want him.”         “Want him‽” she snarled.         “Well, duh – I’m a capture him and stuff.”         “Capture him‽ Are you crazy‽ We need to run!”         “Nah, I got this,” he dismissed, waved a hand at her. Shrugging, he pulled out a pair of black sunglasses from seemingly nowhere. Putting them on, he said, “Mr Fish, it’s time to drop the bass. No... no, wait – we need some electro music from a certain duo of foolish punks.” He thrust a finger in the hydra’s direction. “Now, Mr. Fish, use hyper beam!”         Mr. Fish opened his titanic maw as a colossal sphere of swirling orange energy formed in his mouth. The sphere went from a disconnected storm and then congealed until the sphere was solid yet still swirling. Twilight could only stare as the ball funneled into a pressurized beam that barreled out of Mr. Fish’s mouth. The beam smashed into the hydra’s nearest head, the beam throwing the hydra's head back with so much force that it was sent hurtling backwards, the rest of the heads getting swept up alongside it; Mr. Fish, on the other hoof, was utterly unphased by the kinetic backlash.         “He... he just violated one of Neighton’s laws,” Twilight murmured. “He just broke a law of physics!”         “What now?” the trainer asked, beating his head to an invisible beat.         “That attack... thing... it just knocked the hydra onto its back, and Mr. Fish wasn’t even phased!”         “And?”         “HE JUST VIOLATED NEIGHTON’S THIRD LAW! When two bodies interact with each other, these forces are equal in magnitude, but opposite in direction; thus, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction! You just nearly took the hydra’s head via with sheer brute force, and Mr. Fish wasn’t even phased by the kinetic energy!”          “So?”         “So‽ So‽ You just violated physics, and you aren't even phased‽ What are you‽”         “Man.”         “Stop that!” she snarled.         “I’m just saying that you’re being silly.”          “Being ‘silly’ is not me pointing out your blatant disregard for reality, you uncivilized brute!”         Uttering a deep, throaty growl, the hydra rose itself from the murky brown waters, or at least three of its heads dids. The the middle-left head stayed limp, the head’s crest just floating in the water, its eyes occasionally moving about, but otherwise staying put.         “Wow. Tenacious one, ain’t ya?” the trainer whistled.         “You’re not evening listening to me, are you?” Twilight groaned.         “If I said I was, I’d be lying; and I never lie to girls; with, yes; but to, no.”         The hydra, collecting itself, began to plod through the waters towards Mr. Fish. Then, within sufficient distance as to manually strike, it began to strafe Mr. Fish, keeping two pairs of eyes on the Pokemon, one pair to the trainer, and keeping the final waterlogged pair free. As it strafed, it found itself stepping closer and closer towards the human and pony duo.         “Tough, too,” he remarked. “Odd.”         “I don’t mean to be the voice of reason here,” Twilight said, “but shouldn’t we, you know – get out of here!”         The human shrugged. “What do you expect me to do? Mr. Fish’s gotta recharge, having used a hyper beam and all.”         “What‽”         With the fury of a hurricane, the hydra lunged two heads at Mr. Fish, coming from opposite directions. Jowls wide, they snared Mr. Fish; one by the lower neck, one by the upper neck. Clamping down like extremely taut vices, they pulled down on Mr. Fish, trying to drag him beneath the water.         Still latched to Mr. Fish the hydra began to also walked towards the human, the beast’s third head still targeting the trainer. All the while Lucian just stood there, utterly unfazed, though tapping two fingers to an invisible beat, to his thigh.         “What are you doing?” Twilight hissed. “They’re going to eat Mr. Fish!”         “Shut up,” he growled.         “What?”         “Shut up. You’re interrupting my counting.” “Counting?” Lucian didn’t reply, he just kept tapping his fingers, his lips moving but not enough to even tell if he was mouthing words. As the tapping went on, the human bobbed his head in sync. He continued doing so even as the hydra’s foot made landfall, the once waterlogged head skulking out of the water and gliding just above the ground, its eye locked to the unfazed trainer. The head began to hiss, its forked tongue flickering in and out of its mouth. Without warning, the tapping stopped, the trainer calmly saying, “Ice Fang.”         Mr. Fish bellowed as he twisted his neck, like a crocodile’s death roll, spinning itself free of the hydra’s grasp. With the speed and force of a hurricane, Mr. Fish’s head dove at one of the hydra’s, his larger mouth ensuring it whole. The hydra made a noise that was somewhere in-between a shrill shriek and a strident snort, Mr. Fish’s fangs bearing down on its neck, as the bitten head was consumed and encased in thick sheets of ice.         The hydra thrashed to and fro, pulled and writhing and twisting in an attempt to free its beleaguered head. Yet Mr. Fish’s bite was too strong; no matter what it did, the hydra could only shriek and howl as the bitten head was eaten by ice. Even as the ice grew, a thin layer of steam rose off the ice, the hot sun high above.         “Freeze,” the human said, adjusting his sunglasses. At that moment, Mr. Fish jerked back from the hydra, releasing it. The head, encased in ice, promptly took a dive into the murky waters. “Yeah – you be dropping like stock prices in October of ‘29, bitch.” He put a hand to his chin. “Odd, usually one can tell a Pokemon’s type, but it seems I was wrong; had suspected you the water type, but the ice attack didn’t render you unconscious.” The hydra began flailing about, trying to free the encased head. No matter what it did, however, the ice remained, the hydra screaming louder and louder until its vocal cords were shot and ruined. “Well, he seems to be having the time of his life,” the trainer chuckled. Twilight shook her head at the trainer, her jaw dropped, her expression abhorring of him. “How can you find that... funny?” she spat. “‘Cause it it.” The hydra tore at its iced head, its body thrashing. Then, failing utterly, it dove beneath the waters, scurrying off with its tails between its legs. In its wake it sent waves crashing to the the shore, a few of which were strong enough to wash over the trainer’s shoes. “Oi! Don’t wreck my running shoes! I only got a pair, ya wanker!” He paused as he removed his shades, stashing them in a pocket. “And, apparently, my accent just became a supervillain's. Wacky.” He held out a ball in his hand. “Mr. Fish, return!” A red beam shot out of the ball, impacting Mr. Fish, who turned into a swirling of translucent red energy, which then catapulted towards the ball, being consumed into it. And then Mr. Fish was gone. “You broke so many rules of physics in the last ten minutes that it hurts. It hurts!” Twilight said. “Pop an Ibuprofen, lass... Wow, I don't know what my accent is anymore. Wot, wot, chip chip cheerio, eh, amigo?”         “Focus!”         He set Mr. Fish’s Pokeball back to his waist, next to his other Pokeballs. “So, how long till we reach the end of the swamp?”         Twilight blinked. “I-I don’t know.”         “Guess.”         “I think... I don’t know, maybe.... twenty minutes?”         He nodded. “Aight. So how ‘bout till we reach civilization.”         She shrugged. “I dunno... a half-hour?”         “Work für moi,” he said. The trainer extended his arms, ensuring Twilight, who only struggled a little as she tossed over his shoulder like a rocket launcher. “Aight, gotcha good,” he grunted.         Still squirming, though more in an effort to find somewhere comfortable than to flee, Twilight groaned, “this is uncomfortable.” *** “By Azura, by Azura, by Azura,” the trainer panted, staring out the green wasteland (so very green) before him.         “What?” Twilight inquired.         He shook his head. “Never you mind, pony... So, how much longer till we get to the land of houses, candy, and bl...owfish for dinner...?”         “Blowfish for dinner? What’s that supposed to mean?” “Don’t be such a gosh darn bitch.” “Woah! Don’t swear at me!” “Forgive me for being an uncouth lout. But at least I didn’t drop you... more than twice. So-so be glad you only sprained a leg from... Yeah, I don’t know where I’m going with that, since I can’t figure out how to word it without it being a threat.” Looking out into the green, his eyes followed a lonely dirt road rolling across the terrain. “Oh, and I don’t mean to call out Freund or anything, but rolling hills are apparently a literary metaphor for female sexaulity. Never understood that. Always found it weird, you know. Was convinced my literature teacher was a liar... or had an Oedipus complex.” “What?” He nodded. “Truth be told, my Oedipus complex is for Mr. Fish.” Twilight blinked. “Wat.”         “Yep. This is why they banned me from therapy. Literally. They banned me for the whole of ever from ever seeing a therapist. Which is okay, since therapist looks an awful lot like ‘the rapist’.”         “I... don’t know if I know any words to use right now to accurately convey just how baffled I am.”         “So, just follow the road to your homestead?”         “I... I live in the library. But yes, this will lead to town.”         He nodded. “Damn, man, I be travelin’ like Adrien Brody today.”         “I... words none do have.”         “What a lovely start, I’d say, to an adventure across... I hate hills.” He picked Twilight off of his shoulder, setting her on the ground, causing the wounded mare to grunt and collapse to the ground.         “Hey!” she barked.         “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He put his hand to his forehead, as if saluting. “If I had a bigger Pokemon – or if your ass was a bit lighter – I might be able to airlift us to wherever we're going. As it stands, you probably weigh something like thirty-five kilos, and Skywing weighs about 40 or so. Coupled with mine, and Skywing’s grounded.” He glanced down at Twilight as she struggled to sit upright. “Seriously, you weigh a metric tonne. What, do you only eat donuts ‘round these parts?”         Twilight’s face went red. “It’s not my fault! So what if I occasionally compulsively eat when I’m reading‽”         “In le grand Yankee tradition,” he remarked. Then the trainer grinned. “But it looks like I’ve found your Achilles’ heel: thine weight.”         She began to grit her teeth. “Shut up! I am not fat!”         “Never said that you were,” he said, his tone brimming with reasonableness.         “You were thinking it,” she glowered.         He knelt down, giving her a condescending pat on the head. “Aw, is someone the victim of constant bullying, thereupon she figures the only way to emotionally validate herself is by whoring herself out to food and the written word?”         If Twilight had been a less-composed mare, she might have then speculated aloud and at great lengths about the trainer’s parentage, sexual predilections, and eternal destiny; the thought and desire to do so even occurred to Twilight, and she nearly considered it. Thankfully for everypony, Twilight was not such a mare; so instead she just ground her teeth as she glared up at the human.         A pregnant pause (culminating with the conception of metaphorical triplets).         “So, walking it all the way, then?” he asked.         “Yep.”         He sighed. “Well, here goes nothing.”         A pregnant pause.         “You know,” Twilight offered, “I do sort of know a spell that could reduce your weight.”         Slowly, like a rusted clockwork mechanism, he twisted his neck in Twilight’s direction, his eyes utterly bereft of emotion. “You’ve know this spell all along,” he stated.         Twilight swallowed a suddenly-formed lump in her throat. “Um... y-yes.”         “You’ve know this the whole time... and you only know bring it up, after we’ve gone through the most hellish part of our trek.”         “Okay, why don’t we mosey on out of Creepy Voice Town and–”         “This also seems to defy the laws of physics, at least as you put them,” he pointed out, still speaking in an utter monotone.         Twilight blinked. “What? No it doesn’t, it makes perfect... sense.” She went quiet as she stared up at the human, stared into his utterly tranquil eyes.         “This would have been most convenient much earlier,” he said. Standing there, the trainer looking into Twilight’s eyes, and Twilight into his, the mare realized something: the man was in the placid pond focus where the manner is measured and polite, the voice so steady that it sounded otherworldly, and only a faint trace of spittle moistening the corners of his maw betrays the inner inferno. And when the human’s eye twitched, Twilight’s heart sank into her stomach. “So,” he continued, “you could have used that earlier.” His eye twitched. “You made me go through the entire swamp, carrying you around with me, all of which could have easily been averted if you’d just. Used. This. One. Simple. Move.”                  “I...”         “One. Simple. Move,” he repeated, each word sending out bits of spittle.         She scooted backwards, though didn’t get all too far. “I-it never occurred to me, what with the-” she swallowed “-hydra, the dragon-thing, your... merciless and random attacking of... me.”           “Use it,” the trainer ordered.         “I... it might take a–”         “Now.”         She blinked, then offered an affirmative nod. Her horn lit up with a grayish purple color, bathing her head and the trainer in its glow. In an instant, a storm of transparent pink feathers consumed Twilight, twirling and spinning around her before they dove into her body, going through her body as if it wasn’t there. When all the feathers were gone, Twilight uttered a sigh of relief as she looked upon the human once again, whose face had softened up, taking to it a mildly nonplussed expression to it.           “So, did that move, like, raise your agility or something?” he asked         “My what now?”         He shook his head as he crouched doing, getting eye level with the mare. “So, your kilos are down by how much?”         “Kilos?”         “Kilograms,” he said, rolling his eyes.         “Kilograms?”         The trainer blinked. “You know, the international standard.” Twilight just stared at him. “Equivalent to a thousand grams?” No response, thus prompting the trainer to put a hand to his chin. “Err, pounds?”         “Hmm? Those?” She nodded. “Yeah, it reduces my poundage by a factor of... why are you looking at me like that?”         “Am I in the States?”         “Wh–”         “I’m in the States, aren’t I,” he deadpanned.         “Wh–”         He facepalmed, groaning through his hand, “Great. I’m one some kinda magical reserve... maybe a native reserve, which explains a lot of things... If I recall correctly, nearly half of the land in the western States are under supreme Federal control–” he rubbed his chin with the hand “–which means anything and yet nothing to me.”         “Um... hello?” Twilight probed.         The human shook his head. “Nevermind any of that. So, you’re lighter now, yes?”         “I... Yes, I am. Why, do you-” The man grabbed Twilight, hauling her into his arms like a mother cradling an infant.         “Ho-lee sheet, girl, you’re like, what, ten kilos?” he chuckled, bouncing her in his arms.         “Hey! Quite bounce-ing me!” she demanded, her voice constantly interrupted by the bounces.         “Ho-ho, having’ fun, are we?” he laughed. The trainer put Twilight onto a single hand, tossing her up like a baker would pizza dough. “Hey, ma, one hand!” He jerked his right hand out under Twilight, catching her with it. “Oi, now lookie ‘ere, ah caught me a tiny pokemon, ah thinks.” He tossed her up again, swapping whichever hand caught her with each pass.         With another toss, he flipped Twilight end-over-end, prompting her to jerk a hoof in panic, sending it towards the man, slugging him in the jaw, and send Twilight only spin harder. Grunting, the kick sent the man’s legs stumbling. When one of the feet slipped, he toppled to the ground, slamming his back against the dirt. At that precise moment, Twilight landed, her hooves smashing into his stomach, prompting the man to gasp.         Erupting in a coughing fit, the human heaved his stomach, his body being caught in the throes of an almost epileptic fit as he curled into the fetal position, his arms wrapping his body, the whole process forcing Twilight to fall off his body.         Twilight gasped. “A-are you okay‽”         Rather than answer, the human, still curled up in a ball, rolled around on the ground, constantly gasping for breath. The only words Twilight could even make out were from the occasional grunt, like “...bitch...!”         Standing as still as a statue, Twilight muttered, “Sorry... b-but you did sort of... have it coming...”         Panting, the human stopped rolling around. He made a gurgling sound, then a groaning noise, and then he began to wheeze. With a choking sound, he stopped. Just stopped. He didn’t even breath, just sat there, curled up in a ball.         With a hiss of air, the human began to break out chuckling. The chuckles gave way to full-blown laughter. Soon, though still curled up in a ball, the man was cackling like mad. And he just kept howling with laughter, even as his hand began fumbling around his waist.         “Um... are you a-alright?” Twilight prodded, taking a tentative step towards the man.         Continuing his bellowing laughter, he said, “I might have deserved that one!”         “Um...”         “Glad to see you ain’t a total pussy, kicking my ass like so!” he guffawed, rolling onto his stomach and spreading out his limbs. Then, in a single motion, he managed to haul himself to his feet, a big smile on his face.         He grabbed a lone ball from his belt, this one’s color scheme including a blue top half with red crests, and three it out. From the ball exploded forth a wave of energy, energy which transformed into a huge brown bird with a red crest and the occasional golden-yellow feather. The bird flared out his wings, cawing, ”Pidgeot!”         The trainer smiled. “Meet Skywing, little pony; caught him as a mere pidgey, you know, and how he’s all grown up!”         “Wait, you’re not mad at me?” Twilight asked.         “Mad? Ha! Not a chance.” He balled a hand into a fist, then pressed the fist to his left cheek as he said in a lower, throaty voice, “One day, vengeance shall be mine. But today is not that day.” He struck the fist from his face, again smiling. “Alright, Skywing, you ready to fly?”         The giant bird turned his head in the trainer’s direction, giving the human a blank stare.         He gave the bird a thumbs up. “Yeah! That’s the kind of attitude we need: cool and aloof!”         “Am I the only one who has no idea what’s going on?” Twilight said.         “Nope,” he chirped. In a single motion, the trainer bent down and scooped Twilight up.         “Hey! Hey!” she protested as he began walking over to the bird.         “Bwa-ha, you cannot stop me,” the trainer said in an overly silly voice; “I am a master of tetris; fear my movements of left and right!”         “What.”         “Alright, Skywing, get read to use fly!”         The bird began to prune its wings.         “Yeah!” the trainer cooed.     ***   “Steel with us, what is that thing‽” shouted a Royal Canterlot Guard pegasus, himself, like his comrades, clad in golden armor. “I don’t know!” replied another guard, his voice ripe with panic. “Leftenant, what the hay is that thing‽” “How the harvest moon should I know!” the Lieutenant, an aged warrior approaching his sixties, shot back. The creature continued flying, almost as if it was utterly unfettered by the soldiers before it. It wore a black trenchcoat over its hominid body. Upon its face, if one could call it a face, was an utterly blank expression, its eyes hollow and dead. It was held in the sky by a pair of huge insectoid wings which buzzed with a thunderous roar. Yet the one thing that nopony could seem to overlook was its body, visible via its open-zippered coast: everything below part of the neck was not solid; rather, it was a violently swirling mass of black and white particles. “Do we buckin’ charge it, sir?” one soldier asked.         “Dammit, boys, y’all can guess what we gotta go! It’s OpFor, and we know what we do do OpFors!” the Lieutenant shouted, pulling out a thick rope from. “Lash ‘im, lads! Bring it down to earth!”         “Sir, yes, sir!” the squad of pegasi replied, following their Lieutenant's lead and pulling out ropes of their own.         In a perfectly performed move they’d all practiced countless times before, I soldiers dove at the target, strafing around it in just such a way where it became impossible to keep a single on eye on them all. Rope moving, stretched, winding around and wrapping, and tightening, the ropes found themselves wound around the hominid, wrapping it like a mummy.         And then the ropes just fell down, almost as if there wasn’t a body within them.         With the sound of roaring wings, the Lieutenant alongside everypony else, jerked his head around. There, continuing on its merry little way as if nothing had happened, was the flying hominid.         One of the guard’s shouted, “Nightmare Moon’s c-”         “Cunning bastard,” the Lieutenant gasped. “Lads, back at it! We can’t let it near the castle! Double time it! Move! Move! Move!” Without warning, the thing just vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place. And then two guards screamed. There behind them was the creature, its forelimbs extended, its palms open. Two identical spheres of water manifested in its palms; within seconds, they exploded out from its hands, still perfectly spherical. Sooner than one could blink, the two guards again yelped, only this time it was the pressured water swatted them out of the sky, setting them plummeting to the earth below. One guard shouted, “Celestia’s cl-”         “Clip this bastard’s wings!” the Lieutenant ordered. He pointed to two guards. “You two, rescue our comrades! Everypony else, ropes! Again!”         Once more, the remaining wing of guards, only four members down, dove at the creature, ropes flying every which way. In but a matter of seconds, the creature was ensnared in the ropes. The creature just stopped, even its particles froze; it was as if looking at a picture of the monster, rather than its actual body.         “Pull!” the Lieutenant commanded, and at once the guards pulled on their ropes, all tugging in purposefully conflicting directions. Yet nothing happened.         “Sun above!” one of the guards said through highly strained tone. “It’s like trying to please my ex-wife!”         “Koński, will you shut the hay up‽” the Lieutenant barked.         “Sorry, sir!”         In an instant, the creature's part came to life in a storm of newfound ardor, yet in the next second it vanished. Everything went silent.         A pause.         “Did we win, sir?” one of the guards asked.         Without warning, the howling roar of wings erupted from behind the Lieutenant. Jerking his head to the sound, the captain groaned, “Oh, fuuu–” But before he could finish the thought, the creature’s hand, its fingers twisting into the rough likeness of a claw, slammed into his face, the digits pressing into the sides of the stallion’s face. And then, with an almost casual indifference, the creature let go of the stallion and turned away, the Lieutenant plummeting to the ground, and the rest of the guards breaking off combat in favor of saving their fallen officer.         Looking down to the white stone walls of Canterlot Castle, the creature noted that the entirety of the castle proper was encased in a gigantic pink bubble. In an instant, it took off towards the lowered gates to the castle, sensing a weakness in the shield.         It landed with a resounding thud, kicking up dirt and gravel as its wings retracted into his body, utterly disappearing. After brushing itself free of dirt, the creature began an almost casual stroll up to the portcullis gates of the castle, its arms swaying with each step.         From behind the walls on the far side of the shield stepped forth a tall white stallion, his purple steel armor glistening in the midday sun. He put himself in the very center of the gates to Canterlot Castle, his blue eyes betraying nothing but a grim determination to succeed.         “In the name of Her Majesty Princess Celestia of Equestria, I order you to halt!” the Captain of the Guards said, his tone possessing a sort of commanding aura to it. The creature, its expression utterly blank, stepped onto the wooden bridge separating Canterlot City from Canterlot Castle, still strolling with an almost casual indifference to events.         “Very well, then,” the Captain said, doing nothing but watching the thing walkabout.         Now standing at the very edge of the shield, the creature stopped. For a whole minute it just stood there, exchanging a long stare with the Captain. The whole world fell silent, the only sounds being the calm hum of magical energy from the shield, and the Captain’s breathing.         The thing raised its left hand, extending the palm, and then placed it upon the shield barrier. It put a modicum of pressure upon the pink transparent wall, only to get a shock of purple magic rebounding through him.         “I’m afraid this is where your journey ends, my friend,” the Captain said. “I daresay that there’s no way through that shield.”         With the same general mood of casual indifference, it contorted the fingers of hand-like mass of particles into the rough semblance of talons. Then, slowly, it dug its fingers into the pink shield.         To the Captain’s absolute stupefaction, the hand began to warp and buckle the shield. He thrust more magical energy into maintaining the shield, but the hand continued to push, the shield beginning to whine under the pressure. Again, he pushed more force into holding the shield, even the whole of his magical potentials. Yet the hand kept pushing, the shield kept buckling and whining, and the Captain was forced to his knees as he focused everything he had into the shield, even forcing his eyes shut to help concentrate.         And then everything went still, the silence becoming deafening. Panting, the Captain lifted an eyelid, only to find blackness. His heart racing, he flickered open his other eye, forcing himself off his knees. To his absolute horror, he found out that he wasn’t staring into the blackness of the abyss, he was staring point-blank into the creature’s black trench coat.