Rainbow Charm aimed her horn at the sky. Advanced calculations whizzed through her head at supersonic speed. Preserve latitude and longitude. Alter altitude. Visualize every last inch of yourself. Don’t forget anything--for goodness’ sake, don’t forget anything.
Magical lightning arked around her horn, tracing the spiral from bass to tip. The feeling of isn’t permeated her body. The lightning arked. Charm disappeared.
...Only to reappear a moment later in the exact same spot. Her mane was frozen together in chunks. Sweat rolled down her face. One of the vessels in her right eye had burst. Her whole body felt tingly, and not in a good way. The feeling of is reasserted itself with a vengeance.
She opened her mouth to cheer and vomited all over the laboratory floor.
“What on earth are you doing?” came a voice from behind her.
Rainbow Charm whirled around and slipped in her own vomit. She fell to the ground and gasped like a fish out of water. “Sir--sir--I--”
“Suh-suh-suh--stop blathering like a simpleton.” The other pony walked up to her until his silhouette loomed large over her. “It appears you’ve vomited.”
“In the process of experimentation. Sir.”
The pony draped his hoof with a rag, then helped Charm up. “And what, exactly, were you experimenting on?”
“Myself. And the basics of teleportation.”
“Ah, reinventing the wheel. Fitting.”
“Not reinventing. Just making it more round.” Charm paused as she hacked up a lung. “I teleported exactly one mile into the air, then back down again. And I did it without a single millimeter of deviation in latitude or longitude. Exactly up. Exactly down.”
The pony looked her up and down with impassive grey eyes. “Congratulations. You’ve accomplished something basic to an inane degree of precision. Have you even bothered looking over my notes for tomorrow’s experiment? Or have you been too busy reinventing your breakfast?”
Rainbow Charm felt a chunk of something slimy under her hoof and grimaced. She was used to this sort of reproach. But this teleportation thing felt important--important enough to share. And important enough to merit further study.
“With your permission, sir, I’d like to continue refining this spell. After your studies are complete, of course.”
“I think not. Now take a letter.”
“Sir--”
“Did I stutter?”
Charm sighed. Her tired horn lit up the same pale pink as her fur. Ink and quill materialized beside her. “Ready.”
The pony cleared his throat. “Dear Princess Sparkle. New paragraph. My four dimensional portal blueprint is nearing completion, comma, and will be ready to test by tomorrow evening. Period. I humbly request the palace be placed at general quarters, comma, as tesseracts are unstable and constitute a minor, comma, though not insignificant, comma, threat to the local population. Period.”
“Minor?” Charm asked bluntly.
“Minor, as in there is a minor chance it will swallow the universe. Don’t write that down. Do write this down. My assistant and I will report back with our findings as soon as solutions reveal themselves. Period. New paragraph. May friendship spread through this world, and every conceivable world, comma, new paragraph. Your faithful student, comma, new paragraph. Kazimismo Kazimiscimo.” He lit up his horn to charge a spell. “That will be all. Clean this up, then you are dismissed until tomorrow morning. Don't forget to go over my notes. And get some rest while you’re at it. I’ll need you in tip-top shape for--”
He cast his own teleportation spell before he could bother finishing the sentence. His magic tugged so strongly she felt herself and her papers being dragged towards the spot where he had just stood.
Rainbow Charm sighed as she magick’d the letter away. She could feel feedback welling up in the front of her head, leaping from the base of her horn right into her frontal cortex. She’d need to rest if she wanted to be of use tomorrow.
It was getting harder to convince herself she liked this. Kazimismo Kazimiscimo--Cosmo, for short--was a unicorn born and bred to be historically significant. His work with extra-dimensional portal spells leading into non-Euclidian dimensions was going to revolutionize Equestria. Instantaneous travel for all races. Space travel. The end of resource dependency. And he was the personal student of princess Sparkle to boot. And only two years older than her. And handsome.
He sucked.
Rainbow Charm trudged through the lab, punched in the passcode for the thirty six inch solid steel blast door separating the laboratory from the rest of the Canterlot mountain, and wove her way through the labyrinthian catacombs of Canterlot mountain in search of a mop.
In her room that evening, freshly showered and no longer smelling like ozone and stomach bile, Rainbow Charm poured over Cosmo’s notes on tomorrow’s experiment with dutiful care.
She held no delusions about the danger of tomorrow’s activity. Tesseracts were dangerous. Cosmo’s two previous portal experiments had to be aborted after the portals spaghettified the data probes they’d sent inside. Charm had no intention of being spaghettified.
Her role in the spellcast itself was both safety and support. Once he had established the portal, she would assist him in keeping it open and stable while they deployed a probe inside and recorded data. Also, if Cosmo were to somehow lose control during his cast, someone had to be there to slam the portal shut.
A lot of the contingencies they’d planned for were still purely theoretical, but nonetheless something she would like to have a plan for. Better safe than sorry.
From the foot of her cot came a clatter and a high-pitched mewl for attention. Charm put her notes aside to scoop up Rocky, her pet rock, off the floor and onto the bed. She placed him in his favorite spot in the corner and went back to her books.
She and Rocky were on a very similar wavelength in many respects. Neither were emotionally needy or prone to complain. But they also liked company, even if it was at a distance. Just knowing the other was there felt nice.
Rocky made a rock-sized divot in the thin covers and bedded down. He looked at Charm with quiet discontent. He was ready for bed. Shouldn’t she get some sleep, too?
With a groan, she set the books onto the nightstand--by hoof, so as not to tax her magic. Aside from the bed, the nightstand, the messy bookshelf, and the single blacklight Rocket Ponies poster she’d found in the dumpster last year, her room was utterly bare.
Having no decorations in her room never bothered her, but tonight of all nights the room felt lifeless and cold. She pulled Rocky tightly to her chest and tried to snuff herself out with the covers before any tears could come.
Heavy magic use gave her disturbing, grainy dreams. As she slept, she saw threatening shapes collapse into themselves, then fly out in hyperreality. Shapes inside of shapes. She hugged Rocky closer to her chest. The little sentient rock let out a whimper.
She wondered if rocks ever missed their rock families, too.
Rainbow Charm had developed a precise mental ritual for the first ninety minutes of each day. That hour and half was something of a parade of horrors for her, so she’d had to develop a way to strategically ignore the worst of it.
Instead of focusing on the fact that she was being dragged out of sleep by an alarm clock at an unreasonable hour, she instead focused on what the alarm clock was playing--”Mares Just Wanna Have Fun,” by Cyneigh Lauper. Glittering electric guitars and spacey synths and swelling drums cut through the ache in her head. She swayed her hips back and forth in a tired two-step and mouthed along with the lyrics:
I come home in the morning light
My mother says "When you gonna live your life right?"
Oh momma dear, we're not the fortunate ones
And mares, they wanna have fun~
Instead of focusing on how cold the bare floors were on her hooves, she instead focused on the Rocket Ponies poster. Sky Rocket, Star Hopper, Stardancer, Sunspark, Twinkler, and Napper were dressed in their MegaZorg battle armor and arranged before their respective MegaMechs. Behind them, a cascading field of stars exploded into supernovae. So cool.
Instead of focusing on the usual morning drudgery of washing her face, brushing her teeth, and making the long trek from her basement bedroom to the staff dining area, she set her mind in motion by listening to her recordings of the previous day’s experiments, both hers and Cosmo’s.
Instead of focusing on the rows of pastries at the head of the buffet, or how Cosmo’s last experiment into rewiring the pony gut microbiome had left her with a savage intolerance to gluten, she gauged the weight of eggs and greens as she piled them onto her styrofoam plate. She guessed six hundred and twelve. Magic confirmed her estimation. She added it to the total precise weight for this month, then divided it by the number of days.
Her average was also six hundred and twelve. The thought made her frown. What was the definition of insanity again?
No matter. She walked to her usual two-top table in the corner, sat down alone, and lost herself in her recordings. Strategic ignorance. The feeling of isn’t was sometimes preferable to the feeling of is.
Before heading off to the lab, she made a quick stop to the call room. Booths filled with crystal ball calling machines and soundproof paneling lined the walls. She stepped into the nearest open booth, slipped a bit into the machine, and dialed her mom. Mist and arcane energy swirled around inside.
The face of her mother, Blissful Dream, materialized, looking blueshifted and slightly fuzzy but utterly unmistakable. Charm’s heart swelled.
“Oh, my baby,” Dream cooed, “how are you doing today?”
“I’m okay, mom. Just tired. We have a big experiment coming up today.”
“Ooh, like the one you did last week with the lasers and mirrors?”
Charm winced. “This one’s less dangerous. We’re working on portals.”
“That’s gonna look so good on your resume! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, mom.” Charm noticed that something in her voice sounded somber. She hoped her mother couldn’t hear it, whatever it was.
“When you’re done with your internship, maybe you could go into the portal field. I hear that’s doing great right now.”
“There’s not really a portals field, per say. And it’s not really an internship either.”
“You’re the arch mage’s vice president, aren’t you?”
“No, mom. I’m the assistant to the princess’s student.”
“Maybe you could become the princess’s student. You could show them all the nice work you did on this portal thing and make a case for yourself.”
“That’s not really how it works--”
“But it could help you get a leg up on those college ponies. If you made it into the Canterlot mage system on your own, you could prove you didn’t even need their silly degree. College wasn’t right for you anyway. You could do it all on your own.”
Charm let out a long sigh. “Okay mom, I’ll try.”
Signal disturbance in the leylines between here and her childhood home in Phillydelphia obscured her mother’s beaming smile in waves of static interference. “I’m so proud of you,” the voice crackled and popped. “I love you. Good luck. Can I send you some cookies for your biiii--th--thday nxxzt mmmmmmmmm--”
The line glitched and went dead. Charm blinked, then slapped the crystal ball. She stuck her head outside the booth and saw all the other callers had also been disconnected. An odd sense of worry filled her heart.
A letter teleported right in front of her face with an obnoxious magical pop. Charm let out a very undignified whinney and fell backwards into the booth. The letter unfurled itself and descended like a graceless bird directly onto her face.
LAB. NOW.
--C
As Rainbow Charm rose to her hooves, she wondered if she’d last long enough to see her birthday next month.
The blast doors were open when Charm made it to the lab. No sooner had she stepped over the threshold than Cosmo shouted from inside, “Seal the doors and come help me.”
Charm punched in the access code on the motorized door controls. As the locks slid shut behind her, she joined Cosmo in the center of the lab. Dozens of power cables and data-gathering probes snaked from machines around the room to a single shoulder-height pillar in the center. Spindly magical dampeners as sleek and sharp as a griffon’s claws jutted from the top of the pillar.
Cosmo frowned and ripped one out of its housing.
“Is that wise?” Charm asked.
“Very. I tried to fire up the tesseract just a moment ago, but there were so many magical dampeners it wouldn’t go.”
“You... you what?”
Cosmo shrugged and tugged on another dampener. “You were running late.”
No wonder all the crystal callers went out, she thought. “Nevermind how unsafe that is, Cosmo. With no one on the failsafe spell, you could have been seriously hurt if things got out of hoof.”
“Which they wouldn’t have, obviously.”
“And did you close the blast doors when you did this? They were open when I got here.”
“Don’t lecture me,” he hissed. Irritation formed deep wrinkles on his brow.
Normally, this would be the part of their interaction where Charm shrugged her mentor’s rudeness off and forged ahead with the experiment. Today, though, with so much riding on their experiment, she couldn’t not let him have a piece of her mind.
“Maybe you need to be lectured sometimes. What you did was unsafe. I want to hear you acknowledge it was a mistake to try opening the portal solo.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Then I’m lodging a formal complaint and postponing the experiment.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’ll take this up the chain.”
“There is no--what?” His face screwed up in contention. “There is no chain. It’s you, then me. That’s the chain.”
“I’m sure the princess would be interested to hear you’ve been running dangerous experiments without following proper safety protocol.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Charm raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Cosmo let out a seething sigh. “You have no idea the stress I’m under.”
“Yes I do. I designed this experiment with you.”
“But you’re not me.” He shot her a withering glare and twisted another dampener free. “This has to work. And it has to work today.”
“Why?” He rolled his eyes at her. “No, I’m serious. Is there some secret deadline I’m not aware of?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is.” He ripped one final dampener free from the pillar and tossed it on a rolling cart in the corner. “Now--”
Charm did something she never thought she would do. She walked up to Cosmo and took his hoof in hers. His reaction was like being hit with a stun gun. His whole body tensed, and he went stone-still, eyes open wide in shock. At least he finally piped down for once.
“We’re in this together. You have to trust me, or this partnership is never going to be anything more than a burdon.”
He stayed rooted to the spot until she let go of his hoof. Only then did he start to relax and unclench his jaw. “Please don’t touch me again.”
“Sorry. I won’t do it again.”
He sighed. “Thank you.”
“So we’re in this together, right?”
“Yes.”
“And this experiment is dangerous, right?”
“Some think so.”
“So we’re just two ponies doing a dangerous thing together.”
“Seems about right.”
“I think ponies who do dangerous things together ought to be a little more candid with each other.”
“Perhaps a greater level of candor could be beneficial to a more streamlined working environment.”
“Good. So tell me what’s going on.”
The fight drained out of him. His shoulders slumped. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Uh. Twenty.”
“I’m twenty two. I’ve been princess Sparkle’s student since I was twelve. At that age, I was the oldest personal student any princess had ever taken on. Ever.”
“So what?”
“So, do you have any idea what princess Sparkle’s old students were doing by the time they were twelve? Most of them had saved the world at least once.”
“How many of them were too dead to save it a second time?”
He shook his head. “Irrelevant. I have ground to cover. So much ground to cover...”
Heavens above, was she feeling sympathy for this cretin? She felt disgusted with herself even as she heard herself say, “I don’t think that’s how princess Sparkle sees it. Whatever reason she had for making you her student, I doubt it was to compete with ghosts.”
He turned back to the piller, now missing a fifth of its dampeners. “Are you going to help me or not?”
She reached for his hoof again, then stopped herself. “I have dreams too, y’know.”
“Yes, or course. The cobbler dreams of cobbling.”
“Don’t be a jerk. I want to advance science. I want the exponential curve of progress to go vertical.” She locked eyes with him. “Let’s do this together, Cosmo.”
His eyes flashed from her to the pillar. For a second, his lips curled down, and he thought he was going to send her away. But the moment passed, and he set his hooves down firmly on the concrete floor.
“We go again,” he said, his voice firm. “And we go together.”
The experiment was simple, in principle. They would use Cosmo’s magic to open a tesseract portal on the pillar. Charm would bolster the opening with her own magic, then chuck in a probe on a string. They would wait a few minutes for the probe to collect data. Then they would yank the probe out and close the portal. Easy peasy.
When she finished sealing the doors and checking the concrete safety barriers for signs of weakness, she rejoined Cosmo in the center of the room. The pillar stood imposingly amidst the tangle of wires and cables and dampeners.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Last thing. Hold still.” She lit up her horn and tethered a spell to Cosmo’s horn. He flinched at the sensation of magic touching him, but stayed dutifully still until the spell was complete.
It was a failsafe spell--once he started casting his next spell, a magical switch would be flipped on. If his magic cut off for whatever reason and the switch was not flipped off again, a distress call would be sent directly to princess Sparkle, along with some minor magical fireworks to get her attention.
“Rainbow Charm?” Cosmo said.
She turned at the sound of her name. “Yes?”
Cosmo fumbled with his thoughts in open-mouthed silence before saying, “I am not very good at speaking socially. I’m bad at it because it’s pointless and dumb.” Her smirk seemed to embolden him. “But I do not think it’s pointless and dumb to say that I respect you. You are smart in a great many ways I am not. And as long as you stay in the sciences, I believe the curve of progress will only grow more exponential.” He let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Now can we please get started already?”
A rare smile flashed across her face. She raced behind the protective barriers and readied the data probe, a chrome-plated cube roughly the size of a baseball stuffed with wires and sensors. As Cosmo joined her behind the wall and began his cast, he nodded, and she cast her failsafe spell.
She felt the air around her grow warm, charged with strange ambient energy. Through a viewing slit in the wall, she kept her eyes glued to the pillar. Cosmo pushed more energy through his horn. The lab lights faded from fluorescent yellow to orange, then red, then black. The outline of the pillar and the wires remained as white outlines against a black backdrop.
Cosmo let out a grunt and pulled on the local ambient field with all his might. Charm felt the hair on her neck stand up as a series of lines sprouted from the pillar. At first it looked like a cube, but then she noticed another shape within the cube, something like a second cube with many tendons connecting it to the first.
This was it--the tesseract. The air whooshed with magical energy. Every bone in her body vibrated in time with the pulsing waves pouring off Cosmo’s horn.
In the time it took her to double-check the data probe, the tesseract had already fully emerged from the pillar. It was only the size of a basketball, though it radiated like the sun.
“Now!” Cosmo shouted. His voice came from everywhere at once, an infinite echo feeding back louder and louder with each iteration. She stepped out from behind the blast barrier and chucked the data probe into the tesseract with all her might.
The little box of wires and sensors flew through the air in slow-motion. Charm noted that, if she squinted, the probe looked kind of like her pet rock, Rocky. A tiny twinge of worry pinched at her heart.
Then the probe entered the tesseract, and everything went wrong.
The color of the room immediately snapped back to normal. Cosmo appeared to fling himself forward into the barrier. The tesseract remained the blackest shade of night. It started to spin.
“What the...” Cosmo gave Charm a strange look. She noticed his horn was still pulsing with magic.
“Are you doing that?”
He looked up just in time to watch a long crack appear in his horn, running from the base all the way to the tip. His eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak.
The tesseract exploded outward and devoured the entire lab instantaneously. The probe, having been vomited up by the portal, slammed into the concrete barrier. The wall held, but a piece of concrete on the opposite side of the impact area flew off and plowed into Cosmo, sending him tumbling away.
Charm couldn’t see where he landed. She cried out in agony as the weight of the entire tesseract portal fell on her failsafe spell. She collapsed, blacked out for a fraction of a second, bit her tongue, then snapped back to reality.
“Cosmo!” she called. Her voice echoed back at her. With a herculean effort, she turned around and saw the blast doors at the lab entrance. The tesseract hadn’t gotten out yet. Hope surged through her.
But the effort of holding that gap open grew more taxing by the second. The feeling of isn’t crept over her with icy certainty.
She looked around again. She had to get Cosmo out. And close the portal. And save herself. Princess Sparkle would have received a distress letter as soon as Cosmo’s magic cut out. But would she even be able to make it to them in time?
Just as the confusion and pain started to overwhelm her, she heard a voice crying out behind her. “Cosmo?” She turned, collapsed, got up, and started trudging towards the sound of the voice.
Her progress was agonizingly slow. She was limping. Her hind legs were going numb. Her whole body trembled on the verge of total collapse.
She called out again, and the voices got louder. “Charm... Charm...”
“Yes!” She tripped and felt her hold on the opening slip. She wailed and dug her magic into the opening again. “Please! Help me Cosmo.”
“Charm... stop fighting.”
“What?” She stopped and fell once again. The voice was no longer Cosmo’s. A twisting, writhing body of shadows seperated and flooded the air around her, howling like hungry wolves. They snarled, showing infinite rows of teeth. One nipped at her flank. Then another. They beset her with cuts and scratches and bites. Nothing deep, but all painful.
“Stop fighting, Charm,” they moaned in chorus. “We can help.”
“Who...” Charm panted. Her jaw was no longer working properly. She couldn’t get the words out.
“Accept us,” the dark entity whispered. “We can help you. We see inside you. The jealousy. We could make you so much more powerful than him.”
Him. Charm lifted her head only to feel a hundred teeth and claws ripping at her throat. She squeaked and curled up again.
“He is beneath you,” the entity said. “Take this power and take his place. You are worthy.”
Charm dared to open her eyes for a fraction of a second. As she did, she saw the heart of absolute black atop the lab’s central pillar. Blacker than black. Black enough to paralyze her with primordial fear. The ancient all-seeing soul within her cried out in terror.
And beyond it, through the dimensional veil, she saw the skeletal face of Death peering in. He seemed to be studying her.
She put her head down. her magic started to fade. The beasts rejoiced and let out a howl of joy. The feeling of isn’t crept over her body like pins and needles, like a loss of blood, like unwanted sleep.
The howl died in their throats as waves of magical energy surged from beyond the veil, knocking the shadows back. Pure light spilled over the blackness in broad, crepuscular rays.
The blast door, meant to withstand the discharge of a small nuclear warhead at point-blank range, evaporated with barely a trace. Princess Twilight Sparkle in all her regal glory bounded into the room, horn awash in magical fire.
“Teleport out!” she cried into the void. “Hurry!”
Charm knew the spell like the back of her hoof. She’d studied it to inane perfection in the previous week, after all. It would require getting four magical threads through four needles, all placed in different dimensions, infinitely close and infinitely far apart simultaneously. But that wasn’t a problem for a powerful unicorn such as herself.
Her horn shimmered. She readied herself to teleport, and probably to puke as soon as she landed.
Then, in the shifting darkness, she saw the slumped figure of Kazimismo Kazimiscimo.
From Princess Twilight Sparkle’s perspective, it looked like her two most prized students vanished into the darkness. Cosmo’s horn looked to be damaged, and poor Charm could barely lift her head. One moment they were there. The next moment, darkness swallowed them.
Then there was a tremendous flash of light from inside the botched portal like a flash of lightning, illuminating a pack of shadows with eyes and teeth. They shirked away from the light, howling in agony.
A clap like thunder echoed in the lab. Cosmo flew through the opening and careened out of sight. The portal slammed shut. The concrete barrier walls collapsed. Twilight swayed slightly but kept her footing.
As the smoke cleared, the princess found Cosmo unconscious on the floor. A few paces away from him, closer to the smoldering pillar, she saw his assistant, Rainbow Charm, also on the floor.
The former took in a great heaving gasp of air and sat upright.
“I’m okay!” he cried.
Then his horn cracked neatly in two, right up the middle. One piece remained stuck on his head. The other fell to the floor. He stared at the shattered keratin in stunned, slack-jawed silence.
Finally, he looked up at the princess and said, “I can still be your student, right?”
Twilight rushed to his side. “The portal,” she said. “How did you close it?”
“The...” he glanced over his shoulder. A fine trickle of blood ran down his face from where his horn used to be. “I didn’t close it.”
Princess Sparkle frowned in confusion. “Neither did I.”
Their eyes fell on the prone form of Rainbow Charm. Her fur smoldered. She wasn’t moving.