//------------------------------//
// Truth and Reconcilation 
// Story: The Spy Who Hugged Me 
// by GaPJaxie 
//------------------------------//



A request by Reese:

"Sunny Starscout and her friends have done it! In the years since they reunited the tribes and rekindled the light of Harmony, magic… Who's this "Star Power", and why does she look so much like Twilight Sparkle?

Or, in other words: the hypothesis that G4 is a TV show within G5's world is, for this world, true -- but they don't know that.



“You’re sure…” Sunny Starscout said, slowly, calmly, “that it was a TV show?”

“We’re sure,” said Whisk Brush, the reedy little pegasus archeologist standing before her, his tail and wings shaking alike. “We’ve found… artifacts. Collectable toys. Promotional material. Pieces of the sets.”

“Well,” Sunny said, after a pause. “That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe the ancient people’s made a television show about the historical life of the actual Twilight Sparkle. Just because the mare we revere as Twilight Sparkle was actually…” It hurt her to say the word. “Star Power, doesn’t mean there wasn’t a real Twilight Sparkle who did all those things.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Starscout,” Whisk Brush said. “But we’ve also discovered… fanfiction.”

“Oh.”

“Shipping fiction.”

“Yes, I get it.”

“Lurid shipping-”

“Yes!” She raised her voice. “Yes, I get it. You’re saying that Harmony, the creed and the faith around which our new society is based, through which we reunited the tribes, is in fact based on… a children’s TV show, from some long-lost civilization.”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am,” Whisk said, holding his hoof to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Sunny turned to look out the palace window, at the colorful banners hanging from every building. She could hear the music from Mandatory Singing Practice, as musical numbers were sacred, and smell the smoke from all the friendship letters ponies wrote and burned, as was described in the holiest of texts.

She could also hear the screaming from all the ponies she crucified, because they just insisted on being jerks for more than thirty minutes, and every pious pony knew that friendship problems got resolved within half an hour.

“You know,” she said, “that really puts the last two or three crusades in a different context. I’m not feeling as great about them as I was this morning.”

“Indeed,” Whisk agreed. “A real bummer.”

Then, Izzy Moonbow ran in. “Sunny! Sunny!” she shouted. “The tennis ball thing happened again. Look, it’s on my horn!”

“Izzy,” Sunny sighed, putting her face in her hooves. “Not now.”