//------------------------------// // 8. The Search for Sunset Shimmer // Story: Empathy for the Devil // by MarvelandPonder //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer would never rule the world, but she felt like she did thinking she’d finally be okay with that. Settling down never used to be her style, but now the idea alone of a cozy little human life she could be satisfied living felt like the first good night’s sleep in weeks. Waking up to a future, instead of a past.  Anything would be lower stakes than her old high fantasy destiny with its ascending to thrones, castle staff serving every word, diplomatic missions, and a nation on her shoulders. At the same time, she also wouldn’t necessarily be relegated to being a very attractive but do-nothing trophy girlfriend while Twilight and their friends changed the world. (That being said, it tickled at her stomach in a not unpleasant way to think about being able to give Twilight and the girls some amount of normalcy instead of always complicating their lives further; part of her ordinary human purpose definitely had to be eating ramen after a long day and filling each other in on college exploits, and whatever typical human destiny Sunset was after.) There was a different path out there for her. The human Sunset confirmed its existence—even if that counterpart didn’t have it all figured out herself.  Granted, the main reason Sunset had given up on looking for the other her before now was that she didn’t particularly feel like getting punched in the face for stealing her own identity (which, she reasoned, would probably be her response). Black eyes, notwithstanding, she’d never been so excited to see herself before. Sunset restrained herself from bouncing on every step toward the faculty parking lot where Timber was parked. She would’ve preferred to take her motorcycle, but given the winter storm, it would’ve been a friskily brisk ride. Too brisk to risk on long distances.  Then again, the sun finally started to peek through the clouds, and even as a winter chill clung to their bodies like wet clothes, the hope of warmth broke through. The staff parking lot smelled like the salt melting the mini-mountains of ice ploughed to the back, the breeze telling tale of voyages yet to be sailed.  While most students left school from the front or side doors, Sunset and her friends snuck out the back, mostly because Sunset thought they wouldn’t get caught. But then, the school’s back entrance decided instead to have fun with them and reveal Principal Celestia talking to a nodding, attentive Solstice Shiver, who had undone the top button of his dress shirt. There was something mischievous in her smile as she was telling him, “—Oh, trust me, it’s the single best karaoke bar you’ll ever find.”  Sunset’s eyes dodged to Timber’s ride—parked undeniably in a staff spot. She and her friends collectively took a step or two to stand (or pose) in front of it, grinning. Good thing there were a lot of them. Sunset waved effortlessly. “Oh, hey, Principal Celestia. You’re done early.” It wasn’t a lie. Teachers and especially the principals usually stayed much later than the students. The two of them both looked a little embarrassed to see students here. Near the school. Granted, Principal Celestia recovered well. “I called in a favour with Vice Principal Luna. Paperwork isn’t everything in life,” she said, her eyes reaching Solstice’s quickly before she could stop herself. “I’m sure you students can understand.” Rainbow Dash, who had her cheek planted on a nonchalant arm propped on the hood, snickered. “Ohhh yeah. Totally speaking our language, PC.”  Sunset wanted to elbow her and remind her to talk more like Fluttershy to avoid arousing unnecessary suspicion. At least add an ‘um’ in there! As much as Sunset didn’t see Counsellor Solstice as a threat, per se, the idea of him pathologizing her friends or worse, correctly diagnosing some magic-related stress, well, it didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t, though, because elbowing Dash would be even more suspect.  Then again, the letterman’s jacket itself was a dead giveaway. Not to mention most of them had dressed themselves in their own wardrobes by this point, and even Sunset herself paired one of Twilight’s ties with one of her leather jackets. … Okay, they had zero defense against being found out.  “Perfect!” their principal yipped, heading toward her midsize sedan. “I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, then!” Solstice saw his cue and before entering the car with her, poked a finger in the air. “You heard your principal: Work-life balance! Self-care! Nurture your young lives! Do I make myself clear?” When they nodded, he gave a gently-sloping smile. “Good. That’s a nice car you’re hiding there.” And got into the passenger’s side. As the sedan indicated and turned out of the parking lot, Fluttershy held a hand over her heart—in true Rarity form. “Hm. Good for them.” Applejack stared at her. “What is?” Sunset stuck out her tongue and pointed towards the back of her throat, making Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie snicker, but ultimately, Sunset shrugged. “I guess. It’s gross and I don’t ever wanna see it, but as long as they keep it out of sight, it’s whatever...” “What’s whatever?” Applejack asked, and for once Twilight looked equally as confused.  The real Rarity let a sigh drift out, cupping Applejack’s cheek from the jawline. “Oh, kitten.” Rainbow Dash whispered in Flash’s ear whom first looked at her to confirm he’d heard right, then turned to Applejack to repeat, “We’ll... tell you when you’re older?” He earned himself a high-five.  Applejack’s eyes widened, turning back to where the car had been. “Oh.” After a solid extra second of working through complex equations, Twilight jumped at the notion that seemed to barge into her brain so suddenly it startled her. “They’re an item?! What?! Principal Celestia dates?! When did that happen?” Sunset couldn’t blame her. The idea that their principal was getting more action than she was at the moment was about the only thing that could legitimately sour her happy buzz. Twilight shut her eyes and waved her hands. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m just glad they’re gone.” Twilight swung her backpack around frontwards, unzipping the biggest compartment to let Spike poke his head out. Altogether it resembled one of those baby-slings Sunset had seen Mr. Cake put the twins in, which frankly would have suited Flash if that was really him. He was a kids guy. Spike yipped sweet freedom. “Man, it’s cramped in there! You sure you need all those books?” Twilight smirked. “Well if it’s getting cramped in there, I could cut back on giving you those puppy treats.” Fluttershy smiled, an eyebrow raised as she hummed. “We do have new nutra-proactive puppy food at the animal shelter. Very healthy for puppies on a diet!” Bending his head to one side up at them, Spike made a little confused whine and huffed through his wet little nose. “Wow. I heard about the switch-up from Twilight but… I wasn’t prepared for Rarity to betray me like this…” The real Rarity scratched under his chin.  “Ahhh, a mystical bonding field trip.” Timber sniffed, stretching. He leaned up against the old Land Grover Jeep sporting Camp Everfree’s logo on the side door under splatters of dried mud. He knocked a fist back on the off-road vehicle. “This baby’s seen a ton of those in its time.” Sunset’s eyebrow popped up at the same time her smirk did. “Gloriosa let you borrow the car, huh?” “Yep! A while ago, but yep!” He swung the door open and tossed a bag inside, then leaned against the car like a salesman about to tell her this bad boy got fifty gallons to the mile. While Sunset didn’t consider herself an automobile snob (mostly because she knew motorcycles, but only pretended to know cars), she would’ve wondered if the thing got any gallons to the mile if Timber hadn’t driven here with it a week ago. “I’ve probably gotta get it back in time for her to haul the next herd of campers to the mountains, but that still gives us plenty of time.” “Sweet,” Sunset managed without laughing, then pounded a fist into her palm. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Hopefully by then, Timber and I will be in sync enough to switch us all back to normal.” Dash shot her with finger guns. “And while the Away team’s gone, the Home team will search Canterlot City!” Sunset’s eyebrow perked up. “The who now?” Slinging her arms around Flash and Applejack’s necks, Rainbow Dash grinned. “Duh. Us! We're obviously helping! We even have a crime dog on the case!" Spike straightened and performed the closest thing he could muster to a salute with his stubby paws. "My sniffer's the best in the business! Just try and stop me!" Timber frowned at Flash who was currently in Sunset's body but also not in Sunset's clothes. His hoodie looked especially baggy on her frame, but, Sunset supposed, he must've liked it that way. "But uh, how are you going to catch the scent?" "Oh I know!" Twilight reached into another compartment of her knapsack and pulled out one of Sunset's old leather jackets, the one with the orange chevrons. Sunset had honestly forgotten that she'd given it to her at the fall fair when Twilight started to look a little chilly. And that she'd never gotten it back. Twilight beamed, holding aloft her treasure. "I can guarantee this still smells like Sunset!" As soon as she said that, she blushed a shade darker, avoiding everyone's and especially Timber's eyes. "A-heh-heh, but, um. We. We don't have to talk about why I carry that around..." Sunset found herself overwhelmed all of the sudden by how powerfully much she wanted to sweep Twilight up in her arms. Dammit, Sparky, would you stop being adorkable for five minutes? I'm trying to respect this stupid pause over here! Quit making me want to cherish you! Spike gave the jacket a whiff. "Yup, that's her alright. Shimmer stank. It's gonna be a piece of cake to sniff her out with this! The city-wide search is on!" Sunset looked at her dork friends. "You don't have to do all that," she said, but the gratitude in her tone betrayed her. Dash scoffed, punching her shoulder. "Uh yeah we do. You think we’re not dying to know what the other SunShim’s been up to?” Fluttershy held her own cheek. “I hope she isn’t lonely without us as her friends…” Rarity, in turn, hid her mouth before uncovering it to speculate, “Oh yes, and not to gossip about Other Sunset behind her back, but you don’t think she’s cruel and seeking out power like our Sunset used to be, do you?” Pinkie Pie popped a salute. “Don’t worry, Sunset! Even if she’s a total bossy meaniepants we still take our marching orders from Shimmer Prime.” Despite the uncomfortable lump in her throat at the suggestion, Sunset tittered and brought down the Stetson down over Pinkie’s eyes. “Yeah, that… that’s not necessary.” A thought struck her and she perked up. “You know what? I, for one, think the Home Team should take orders from Twilight.” She could tell just from the way Twilight’s eyes burned into hers that Twilight knew exactly what she was doing. Before Twi could argue, Sunset slid one hand into her pocket and gestured the other to Twilight in one fluid motion. “Twilight’s the best researcher. Aside from checking around town, all I’ve ever done is a quick DragonFire search on my name and it only came up with my gaming channel. If anyone can find out where the other Sunset Shimmer is—” “Shimmer Beta? Sunshim the Lesser?” Pinkie thought aloud, rubbing her chin. “Sunset 2: Electric Boogaloo? Mmm nah. Sequels are rarely as good as the first.”  Sunset chuckled. “Thanks, Pinkie—I think.” Twilight collected her arms, piling them on top of one another in an uncomfortable fashion. “You really think there’s a hierarchy between interdimensional counterparts?” Flash bumped her shoulder. “I think she’s saying our Sunset’s always going to be our Sunset.”  All of Sunset’s friends made their agreement known and it catapulted her heart forward to the warmth of a midsummer day on the beach. A group hug piled on around her, and even Flash got hooked in thanks to Twilight. Sunset hugged back. “Aw thanks, girls. And Flash.” As they let go, Flash continued to Twilight, “And our Sunset’s right, you’re our best bet to finding out what happened to the, uh, Sunset that’s not ours.” He blinked. “Am I making sense?” Twilight smiled at him gratefully. “Yeah. I think you are.” They shared a quick smile before Twilight straightened, blew out a breath, and took Sunset’s hand. They hadn’t so much as brushed past each other since going on pause so even that much touch, something they did routinely at this point without so much as thinking about it, was enough to awaken an electricity from Sunset’s lower regions all the way up to a warmth in her chest. Twilight nodded to her. “If you really think I can, I’ll do my best.” Twilight realized what she’d done and they separated, smiling eyes dodging each other for a moment. Sweet merciful Celestia, I feel like a school-filly.  With her hands behind her back, Twilight tittered. “Um, good luck on your end.” As Timber rounded the jeep to the driver’s side and Sunset opened her own door, she let a smile flow onto her face. “Promise not to get too excited when you see the other me? I’m the jealous type.” The blush on what was usually Flash’s face wasn’t unfamiliar, but it sparked something in Sunset to see the telltale sputtering dorkishness she’d come to expect from her girlfriend.  Rainbow Dash cupped her hands around her mouth and using Fluttershy’s demure voice called out, “Yo! Keep it in your pants, nerds!” Not to be outdone, Sunset shrugged. “Can’t. I’m not in my pants.” And she shut the door before her comeback could be out-sassed any further.  As she did her seatbelt, a bag of trailmix flopped into her face.  Timber, already munching on some of it, held it out for her. He’d also already chosen the music, but Sunset surprisingly didn’t need to object since his road trip playlist started with classic rock—specifically a band Flash had gotten Sunset into not too long ago and their song called Highway to Hades. He swallowed before asking, “So, where to first, chief? What’s the human Sunset’s MO? How do we track her down?” “I’ve got a few ideas.” Sunset took the trailmix, picking around the bits of dried fruit. She watched him adjust the seat and mirrors for his new, much shorter height. “But you’re going to need to be open-minded.” Sticking the Everfree-mobile into first gear, Timber’s eyes glittered like a treasure lost in the bracken of the woods. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.” The interstate traffic brought them to a multi-lane standstill twice, but all things considered, they were making great time. It felt like it, at least. Their first few stops might not have given them any leads, but Sunset thought those were less likely anyway. No dice in her old haunts like the aviary a town over that reminded her of the phoenix aviary she used to hang out with Philomena in, or the tea house a town after that (however they did find a lovely jasmine vanilla tea).  And they also didn’t find Other Sunset in Upper Crust’s Finishing School for the Charmed and Charming but maybe that was for the better. Ex-Principal Cinch was now a secretary there and the less power that woman had over impressionable youths, the better. The real more likely locales demanded they leave the state.  As they pulled onto the interstate, they passed a scruffy looking man with a hat constructed from tin-foil and a cardboard sign that read The End of Days is Nigh! All Hail the Crack in the Sky! Sunset pushed that out of her mind as fast as Timber got them up to the speed of traffic. Every passing mile Timber only seemed to rubberneck more and more to the point that Sunset reminded him to keep his eyes on the road. “Right, right, right, sorry,” he told her, but he sounded so thrilled and caffeinated she might have thought he was about to ride the big coaster at Equestria Land. “It’s just, wow, everything here is so crazy big! I thought Canterlot City was humongous and here I find out there are even bigger cities out there  within driving distance?!” Boots kicked up on the dashboard, Sunset chuckled. “Well, yeah. Canterlot City is podunk compared to where we’re passing through.” Timber vibrated under his seatbelt.  “Gonna be okay there, dude?” “Yep, just. Just living out some childhood dreams over here, don’t mind me.” After a while of driving through the boroughs of Vanhoover, Sunset thought it almost cruel to Timber that he could look but not touch. Every cursing cabbie, every digital billboard, even every cozy, if cracked and bruised cul de sac hidden in the city’s depths made him so excited he teared up. Sunset knew Timber to be an excitable guy, sure, but she laughed when he leaned out the window to get a better look.  Sunset almost didn’t want to break it to him, but she asked, “You know we’re not tourists, right?” “Right!” he blurted, bringing his wind-swept rainbow hair back in the car. “I’m totally focused on our mission. Just making sure we’re not passing her on a street corner or something. Or that super tall building. Or that one! Or that one!” Along the way, Timber’s camp road trip games kept them both on the lookout for objects starting with every letter of the alphabet, but they’d eventually gotten stuck on Z. They’d made serious headway through Vanhoover when Sunset spotted an aircraft floating in a glacially upward trajectory far off over the skyline of the city. She blew out a decently sharp whistle. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume that’s not a zeppelin?” When it was safe to do so, Timber followed her gaze to the sky and the corners of his lips seemed injected with helium. “Whoa-ho-ho, an airplane! Look at it! Flying there like it’s no big deal! I see them all the time on TV but…” Sunset nodded. Plane. That was the word. She’d heard Rarity talk about taking one to Prance after high school, at the very least on vacation if not more. She smirked at Timber and held open the bag containing what remained of their road trip snacks for him. “Would you ever go up in one of those?” “I have! Well, not that kind.” Blindly snagging the last trail mix, he focused more on changing lanes than Sunset. “I don’t remember much but my dad used to take me up in his water bomber or the rescue chopper when I was little. Never when there was an actual wildfire in the forest ‘cause y’know, good dad, but he’d let me see the whole valley from up there. Gloriosa says I loved it.” The GPS’s manly but ultimately computerized voice instructed him to take the next exit, cutting off Sunset’s thought about Timber’s parents, and before she could gather it back together, he interjected, “What about you? Not a fan of airports? No one is.” She could piece together from the name that an airport must’ve been similar to an airship dock, but she didn’t know what could be so bad about that. “I don’t know. I’ve done luxury airships and I guess this is just the human world equivalent? Eh. Looks pretty weird to me, but hey, if the girls end up in colleges across the country or all over the world, I guess I could give it a shot. Exploring the world outside of Canterlot Highschool might be nice, too.” Her motorcycle buddies had been begging her to join them on a cross-country ride for a while now. Timber poked up an eyebrow toward his six-hued hair. “Hang on, if you think globetrotting adventure sounds enticing, how do we know the Other Sunset is still in the country?” Sunset grinned. She liked that his brain was rolling on the subject at least. “Short answer: we don’t, but she’s my age. A teenager can’t get too far when they’re in the system.” At that, Timber faltered. “The school system?” “No, like an orphanage or foster care system,” Sunset said, trying to shrug in a casual way. She never liked ponies assuming she had some pitiful orphan sob story. But she had friends like Applejack now who could understand without being sorry for her, and from what she knew Timber might understand, too. Given that he shared a tiny bit about himself, she decided it was only fair.  It would also help with their search. According to Twilight’s texts, the Home Team decided on checking there first before anywhere else to see if they could find any trace of her in Canterlot City’s local group home for teenage orphans. If Other Sunset didn’t go to the school that this world’s Celestia ran, an orphanage was the next most logical place she might be.  No luck so far, from what she could tell from Flash’s very fanboyish Instagraph story (he’d captioned one selfie of him following after the others as “One of the Girls”), but Sunset knew never to underestimate her friends. Maybe that could include Timber Spruce.  “Before I got accepted into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, I lived in an orphanage in Canterlot. Her Majesty’s Home for Foundling Fillies.” Sunset rested her cheek in her hand, watching the city’s blindingly reflective, teal glass towers pass by and become the poplar trees and countryside out the window.  She’d gone back to visit her old home only once, last Hearth’s Warming to donate presents; Applejack gave her the idea and helped her through it. Aside from that, she only had the barest of memories of her first few years there. Scraps. “... I never really knew my biological parents, so uh, I doubt the other me does. I think my mom was in the royal guard, but honestly, I was so young I could’ve made that up.” Timber’s smile waited, patient and unassuming. “Lore-building. I feel you. I have my sister to fact-check me, at least. I’m not super sure my mom grew eden roses really well specifically or if that was just her name, but I think she liked to garden with my dad. I could swear one of them taught me. And I have this bed of them, eden roses, and every time they bloom I wish I knew who but I keep forgetting to ask Gloriosa who planted them.”  Sunset would have asked him more about himself or what that felt like for him—she thought Eden Rose was a pretty name⁠—had Timber not won the draw. “So did you get adopted, then?” “No,” she almost laughed, a ghost of a smirk lifting up. “Technically speaking, I’m a ward of the Princess. Legally. That’s the status until you find a parent or guardian. ‘We’re all children under Celestia.’” Timber’s eyes embiggened. “Hoo dang that's a whole lot of babies.” Sunset snickered. “Yeah, Celestia’s got a tiny bit of a maternal streak.” She considered him before continuing. “That’s... what my tattoo means, by the way. You asked about it? It’s her cutie mark⁠—which is kind of a symbol that represents your purpose in life where I come from. I never want to forget where I came from again.” “Yeah?” He chuckled, and it was far warmer than the busted car-heater they still only got lukewarm air out of. “So you basically got one of those Mom heart tattoos?” She shoved him, and that only made him laugh more. It made her laugh more. Holding her cheek, Sunset could feel the heat building there. She worked up the chutzpah to say, “... Okay, not gonna lie. Becoming her protégé? I felt special. She chose me. I was four; you tell a four-year-old orphan that the princess thinks that they’re gifted, and not only that but invites them to live in the castle, they’re going to feel incredible! I might as well have hung her sister’s moon!”  The part she didn't say out loud was: I thought she wanted to adopt me. She didn't feel like getting emotional over silly filly fantasies. She’d briefly wondered if Other Sunset had been luckier than her, but put it out of her head based on the simple fact that Principal Celestia would have said something or at least reacted as if she knew Sunset when they met. She didn’t. See? Ridiculous... Nodding, Timber took them down a tree-tunneled road curving through more upstate countryside and finally the GPS said something about their destination coming up. “Well, you were. Like, objectively speaking, incredible. That’s how Twilight tells it."  Sunset smirked. "Does she now?" "Oh yeah. Total heart eyes. Listen, I'm not saying I know when she started to have a thing for you, but she did explain Midnight Sparkle by raving about the angel who saved her so…"  Her smirk reclined into a comfortable slouch. "Yeah, well, she had it pretty bad for you, too, back then. Your name was all over her lab notes. She doodled a bunch of little hearts without thinking about it, which I gotta say really livened up our magic research records."  A little chuckle met her ears. “Yeah, that sounds like our girl.” Sunset didn’t know if she loved the our part of that sentence, but let it go. Bonding was bonding. They turned down the last bend and it delivered with it a walloping view of their destination. “Oh! Oh whoa,” Timber said, leaning forward over the leather steering wheel. “Is that a castle?” “Not exactly,” Sunset commented, a smirk flourishing as the campus came into full view around them. “Welcome to Nightfall Reach Military Academy.” The word castle wasn’t all that far off. The century-old military barracks rising above the trees reminded Sunset of home, from the square battlements of the keeps to the crisp white and lush purple architecture, grand and sprawling. Canterlot Castle overlooked a pond, not unlike the bay Nightfall Reach guarded against. If ever there was a naval attack in those waters, Sunset pitied the combatants.  The main yard, a close shave of spring-showers green grass even in early winter, extended from the road to the main lecture hall and museum. The building stood at an imposing impasse in opposition to the statue of a lone soldier on horseback, rearing high.  It made Sunset nostalgic for the Wondercolts Statue. Well, before it was cruelly and savagely destroyed (by her girlfriend). Timber whistled as he found them parking. “Military school, huh? Dang. Makes sense for Other You if you you grew up expecting to fight in some big magical war. The name even sounds like the Nightmare pony sister you mentioned!” Leaving her purse under the seat, Sunset got out of the car and made a small impressed noise while leading Timber up the lawn towards the closest building. “Huh. I hadn’t even thought of that. I picked this place because I always thought that if I wasn’t Princess Celestia’s personal student, I would’ve been interested in being part of her guard.” Timber smiled, climbing steps in the walkway. “Ohhh. Like your mom maybe was.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah, but also to protect the Princess. She could always use a powerful mage on her side and pyromagic used to be one of my specialties. I thought I could be a good fighter. I sometimes sparred with the guards if I wanted to procrastinate my studies. And between you and me, it wouldn’t shock me if someone thought the other me needed to straighten up and fly right.” Her eyes ascended to the tallest tower. “If the Other Sunset isn’t studying under Principal Celestia in Canterlot, maybe she wound up somewhere here.” Mission 1: Get into campus proper. They realized random civilians couldn’t roam the grounds of what was essentially a military base, so before any sleuthing could happen, they found the Visitor’s Control Centre.  Once inside, the centre itself offering a sparkling view of the bay from its wall of windows, Timber saluted the receptionist. “Afternoon! The name’s Rainbow Dash, future Nightfall cadet. Any chance we could get in to see what it’s like for the cadets in there? That’s kind of my thing. Rainbow ‘history buff’ Dash, they call me. You can spread that around.” Sunset swallowed back a snicker.  The receptionist typed away at her computer, a furious clatter. Sunset almost thought the receptionist hadn’t heard, as in the zone as Twilight became in the middle of a research bender, but then she droned, “The next guided tour is in 20 minutes. Buy your tickets posthaste to discover the wonders of this historic landmark.” “Don’t suppose you could tell us where to find a specific cadet. My⁠ t—” Sunset stopped herself from saying twin sister who lives in the barracks, which would normally be a fine lie. If she were currently Sunset Shimmer instead of Twilight Sparkle. She straightened. “—girlfriend, Sunset Shimmer, is in the ranks here.” Sunset held her breath, watching for a reaction, but the receptionist was too involved with her computer to give her one. “The next friends and family visit isn’t until Hearth’s Warming Eve. Your girlfriend should know that.” Sunset’s heart double-bounced its beats. She wasn’t sure if this receptionist would know cadets by name anyway, so it may have meant nothing, but she also didn’t react as if she’d never heard the name. She might really be here. Sunset hadn’t ever tried super hard in gym class, but if her future after high school involved a military academy and being part of something greater than herself, she wouldn’t mind hitting the punching bag a little more. Or even running a lap or two.  As it was, once the tour began, their guide, dressed in full, four-star general’s regalia whether he was one or not, led them across expansive grounds that commanded respect. And a whole lot of walking.  That led them to mission 2: Ditch the tour.  Speaking into a mic bending around from his headset, the tour guide performed his every sentence as if he were a professional wrestler in Rainbow Dash and Applejack’s favourite televised league, Worldwide Wrestling Theatrics (they insisted it was just a name). “I hope you’ve all enjoyed the museum portion of our tour, because it’s time to move on! Iron Will believes there’s no greater pleasure than watching the junior cadets perform a sunset salute to end another peaceful day.” He flexed so hard it looked painful. Timber leaned over to Sunset and whispered, “Is that a yoga pose? I’m pretty sure that’s a yoga pose.” “Does it matter?” she asked out of the side of her mouth, eyeing displays in the museum. Hand-held cannons or some wild looking crossbows. Humans had such inventive ways of destroying things. “Help me find a way to lose this guy so we can find Other Sunset.” “Right.” He made a finger-gun in the military history hall. “She might be doing yoga with the others.” Leaving the museum with the group, Iron Will guided their eyes to the main lawn, now filling with an orderly set of cadets in perfect uniformed unison. Sunset didn’t want to be conspicuous about it, but she craned her neck to search for her own face among the many. The Other Sunset would still be a junior cadet, like the ones tending to the flagpole and lowering the roiling mast of a flag for the night, but no luck there. Or maybe in the parapets? Far above the main lawn, a cadet blew the spacious sound of a horn of some sort, possibly a trumpet. The notes sunk into her like the lake-buffeted breeze at her back. To her, that would always be the call of Canterlot Castle. Sunset couldn’t see herself in the crowd. Timber leaned toward her and whispered, "I don't see you. Wanna bail, sneak into the school?" She nodded and, keeping an eye on their monstrously buff tough guide, edged back toward the school. Exploring the halls led them past lecture halls and dorm rooms⁠—and  Timber slipped into one empty dorm with an open door which gave Sunset a proper heart attack. She glanced down the hall then hissed at him. “What are you doing?” “Seizing an opportunity! Figure we should blend in if our plan is to just go around and ask people if they know any Sunset Shimmers.” Timber emerged with two well-pressed purple camouflage fatigues, wearing a matching flat-topped hat on his head. “So, which do you prefer? Camo? Or camo?” After changing quickly, the two of them made their way through the more populated halls with ease. In their wandering, they found a gym leagues above the gym back at Canterlot High. Cadets here traversed an obstacle course: down ropes, across tires, over bars, and up onto a second floor, where they ran laps. Sunset wanted to sit down the minute she entered the room. The only person on the sidelines on the upper level glowered over a clipboard at struggling cadets through one eye. The other eye was so deeply scarred Sunset couldn’t be sure she could see out of it, and following the trajectory of the scar to her left arm, Sunset only then noticed the silvery prosthetic. Any time she spoke, she didn’t need to yell despite the sounds of squeaking gym shoes and grunting cadets. If she ever did raise her voice, Sunset got the impression it wouldn’t end well for the person who made her do it. “Looks like we’ve got our expert,” Timber commented, his eyes also on the second floor.  Sunset’s eyes roamed the room. “Perfect. Where are the stairs to get up to her? You think there’s like an elevator or⁠—”  Timber pointed to a cadet mid-obstacle course who hauled herself up a series of platforms and over the guardrail walling off the second floor. He grinned toothily as if his inner-4th-grader spotted a jungle-gym. “Found ‘em!” and tagging Sunset on the shoulder, he hustled over towards the start of the obstacle course because, of course, he couldn’t just jump ahead to the end of the obstacle course without getting yelled at or kicked out. That would be silly. Sunset gaped at the military-grade obstacle course ahead of her. “Oh fuck me.” And she meant that literally, Sunset thought the other her was making a piss poor first impression by putting her through this. You better be more worth this than I am. Sunset continued to swear profusely and quite creatively as she followed Timber, wriggling on her belly under a low set of bars. She was almost glad she wasn’t in her own body; she doubted her steady diet of pizza pockets, toaster strudel, and leftover takeout would have served her well here. Sitting around streaming video games really did a number on the body, she guessed. That aside, Sunset Shimmer had exactly enough muscles to pick up a girl in her arms and swing her around. She had the queer amount, and that was about it. Timber hopped over the first hurdle, saying, “You good? That’s a lot of swearing for the first obstacle.” Sunset huffed, not sure already being out of breath was a good sign. “You have your coping mechanisms... I have mine.” Timber managed the rest of the hurdles with almost too much ease, and Sunset thought it was stupidly unfair that he got Rainbow Dash’s agility and natural speed. As soon as she finally got past the hurdles, he threw a rope down to her from the top of a wall and saluted two fingers. “You got this!” Grunting, Sunset writhed up the rope, her arms and thighs screaming at her the whole way, but especially by the time she got to the top and only just barely managed to painfully hoist her skinny nerd bones over.  Dropping into a sand pit on the other side, Sunset heaved a growl. Timber clapped. “Woo!” She followed Timber, who’d waited for her by running in place, through a set of tires. Her heavy breathing wheezed out of her, lung-rattling. No doubt red in the face, she looked over at him as they jogged. “You… how… no teenager should have abs…” Timber took a running leap and clambered up the first raised platform. He raised an eyebrow at her. He watched her stumble up to the platform and take a desperate jump for it, an arm and a leg clamping on as she bear-hugged the side. Timber frowned. “Do I have to have the Flash body-positivity talk with you, too? Man, what is it with you two? Neither of you have to live up to me. I don’t even get what’s so bad about a little chub, that’s just how some bodies be! Mine just happens to build muscle easily. It's genetics! And a lot of chores around camp, but still! You’re not even in bad shape. Uh, mostly.” "I don't... run… I hit things… I’m a... fighter..." Sunset rolled over ungracefully onto the platform, panting too hard to elaborate. She held her chest. It felt too tight to breathe. It was like when Rarity did up a corset too snug on her and she saw stars in her darkened vision. Her overlight head sweltered, swimming, the sweat stinging.  Timber faltered on the next platform. “Whoa, no, seriously, you okay?” “Twi’s…” Sunset swallowed hard, she wheezed. “Twi’s got bad…” “Asthma,” Timber finished, paling, as if seeing a bad memory before him. He dropped down to her and helped her sit upright even though she thought she’d throw up if she did. It helped, moderately.  The commander took notice and called across the gym to them. “Is everyone all right over there?” “She’s going to be okay! Just taking a breather, ten-hut!” Timber called back, seemingly to make it so. He offered Sunset a hand to grip onto as he sat in front of her cross-legged. “Let’s just hang out, okay? In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nice and slow,” he drew out. “You can do this.” Sunset nodded, her eyes wide as she heaved hard.  She’d helped Twilight through an asthma attack before in gym class, but she never truly realized how terrifying it was to not be able to draw in a breath. How did Twilight keep up with the rest of them in a fight? If she somehow could admire her girlfriend more, this qualified. She grasped Timber’s arm maybe a little too hard. “My… my purse… I’ve got a back-up⁠—back-up inhaler in…” “In the car?” he finished. She nodded. Even if he didn’t let it show in his expression, Sunset could hear him realize how far that was from them.  The room spun on the wrong axis. Someone suctioned out the oxygen and she’d pass out if her lungs didn’t take her out permanently. Sunset shivered. “Timber… Timber, I need you to⁠—please teleport...” Timber grimaced, shaking his head frantically. “But I don’t want to leave you like this if I don’t know that I can come back.” “You can,” she told him, drill sergeant style. She shut her eyes. “Please… I  believe in you. Don’t⁠—don’t panic,” she said, not at all hypocritically. “Just… remem⁠—remember to a-aim… be above⁠—” she coughed, gasping deeper. She tapped her heart and gave him something to aim for. Even as the fear from her eyes reflected in his, Timber nodded. He ducked behind her where it was harder for the other cadets to see and, with a ton of frenzied muttering, she watched her lifeline vanish before her eyes. Holding her knees, Sunset sat herself up against the wall, heaving. Every breath became a horrible dragging sound. The waiting made it worse, but she knew he’d come back. She let her head hit the brick behind her, eyes shut. Come on, Timber. Please. Her breath drew on longer. Rasping down to nothing. Timber Spruce slammed down onto the platform with wild eyes and a purse around his shoulder. Smiling feebly, Sunset would have cheered if she had any lung-power left. He saw her and the relief was palpable in his laugh, especially as he dug out Twilight’s back-up inhaler and guided it into her hands, helping her take the first puff.   True to his promise, it worked. It took longer than Sunset had any patience for, which scared her more, but in time her breathing lengthened out and she got the oxygen she sorely needed. While she returned to normal, Timber’s smile poked up, looking at her with some amount of admiration. “You keep Twilight’s back-up inhaler on you?” Sunset nodded. Her throat ached from working overtime, but she wanted to talk to him. “She doesn’t need it much. It’s… it’s like an every few months at most thing. But it, y’know⁠—” She tapped her chest. “—calms her down. That I have it.” She cleared her throat and started to smile. Sunset admired the hell out of Timber Spruce right then. “You’re the hero, though. I knew you had it in you! Thanks for saving my life.” Timber waved a hand. “Don’t sweat it, Twi⁠—” He blinked, blushing, then cleared his throat, rubbing at the scruff at the back of his head. “Uh, whoa, sorry. Force of habit, hearing Twilight’s voice. It’s nothing, first aid is a camp counsellor’s bread and butter. And I wouldn’t have figured out the teleporting thing if I didn’t have a good leader.” He didn’t notice her surprise, focused more on helping her up. “Let’s finish this course and find the Other Sunset. You never know. Maybe she's got abs." Sunset snorted. “Tartarus. If she does, I’m punching a wall. And joining a gym.” Timber helped her climb the last obstacle in their path. Once they’d properly clambered onto the second floor, Sunset could see the commander behind the clipboard looked ready to rip someone’s arm off and take it as her own. So of course Timber Spruce strutted over and held out his hand to shake as if greeting a new happy camper. Sunset raced to stop him from needing a prosthetic arm, too, but his mouth was a harder problem to solve. “Ten hut there, commando!”  Sunset didn’t know if Timber had just guessed at her rank or noticed the bronze name tag on her lapel: Commander Tempest. The commander tightened her eyes with sniper-like precision. “What did you say to me, cadet?” Sunset grimaced. “He said⁠—” “Save your breath, cadet. You clearly need it,” Tempest cut in. She let the moment stand between them, then directed the attention back on Timber, like a hot lamp. “I asked you a question.” For half a second, a fear slashed through Sunset’s heart. Timber didn’t have a serious bone in his body. But to her surprise, he straightened into a posture a soldier would be proud of, and without any hint of sarcasm or puntastic wit, he uttered, “Nothing, ma’am. My apologies.” Her thinned out eyes stayed on him for another moment, regarding him. Then she said, “Respect for our friends is a core tenant at Nightfall Reach. You’re a fine soldier for helping a fellow cadet in need. No soldier left behind.”  Timber smiled just so. “It’s a good policy, ma’am.” It wouldn’t be accurate to say Tempest softened or let any smidgen of guard in a downward direction, but she did look them both in the eye. “You’ve both earned a break, but don’t go soft on me. Ten minutes. Medic tent for the wheezy private.” “Thank you. We have a bit of an odd request, ma’am,” Sunset said, careful to follow the golden rule. While it was tough to read Tempest’s good eye, her reserved expression didn’t evoke anything bad, either so Sunset decided that was a good sign. “We’re looking for a specific cadet named Sunset Shimmer. Have you ever heard that name at this school?” “Sunset Shimmer,” she repeated, and for the tiniest heart-drop of a moment, Sunset almost swore Commander Tempest somehow knew, somehow saw through the disguise, the uniform. Sunset knew that was impossible, logically, but Tempest’s voice could balance on a blade’s edge. “There is no Sunset Shimmer at Nightfall Reach. I’ve never heard that name and I command all new cadets as they enter the school. Why do you ask?” Trying not to wilt beside Timber, who himself looked a little bummed on her behalf, Sunset shook her head. “No real reason, ma’am. Thanks.” Hitting that dead end made the drive to their next destination drag on longer, and the silences along with it. Timber, to his everlasting credit, tried to keep up a conversation where he could, but Sunset found herself lost in thought too much to keep up her end of it.  “So we didn’t find her at military school,” Timber said, shrugging. His smile was light but encouraging. “We’ve still got one more lead ahead of us, right?” Sunset sunk into her seat. “Thanks, you’re right but... honestly? I’m kind of hoping this one isn’t it. It’s probably the most likely place she would’ve ended up, but it’s not somewhere I’m looking forward to visiting.” And if she is there, what does that say about my place in the world? Frowning, Timber tapped the GPS. “What’s at this address, anyway?” “You’ll see,” she promised, and it wasn’t long before she made good on that.  The tall barbed-wire fences of the Tartarus Juvenile Detention Centre rose ahead and Timber took his hands off the steering wheel. “No. No way. Uh-uh. I’m turning the car around.” “I don’t like it either,” she muttered, resigned, eyeing the squealing, parting gates as Timber twisted to find a place to turn around, “but it’s our best bet if I’m being honest.” “Geez.” Timber shook his head and scoffed. “Twilight always said you were hard on yourself but this is dramatic, isn’t it? You really think you belong in juvie? You’re not some kind of criminal delinquent!” “I used to be,” Sunset told him, electing to not mention the ongoing vandalism of her street art. She didn’t want to get into any specifics, really.  They came up towards the gate, only because there was no way to turn around without driving over a curb and/or giving the Everfree-mobile four flat tires with the one-way spikes on the road. But Timber seemed to be considering it. “Yeah, well, you’re not anymore and this is way too mean to yourself. To both of you! Other Sunset could be in lots of places! A motorcycle shop, leather jacket emporium, an ice cream parlor⁠⁠—I mean everybody likes ice cream, right?” “Timber,” she said, her voice crisp in the insulated car. It was just the two of them in here, but the guards stationed at the entryway waited out the window. “We need to check. This isn’t one of those Celestia only knows situations. I know myself.” She pressed a hand against her chest, even if it technically wasn’t her chest. “As much as I hate to admit it, this is the kind of place I would’ve wound up if Princess Twilight didn’t give me a second chance.”  After the guard let them through and gave them Visitor’s passes on lanyards, Sunset could tell Timber still wasn’t convinced. She bumped his arm. “You wanted to get to know me better, right?” The guard escorted them through a hall of white-coated bricks and high-polished floors smelling like shoe scuffs. In all truth, it wasn’t too different from public school. If Sunset felt like deluding herself, she could reasonably pretend this wasn’t the mirror’s equivalent of the dungeons locking her away from ever knowing friendship in her nightmares ever since the Fall Formal. Sometimes they were the castle dungeons under Canterlot Castle, sometimes the pits of Tartarus itself. But the one thing that remained constant was that she could hear Princess Twilight’s grave warning echoing back to her.  “The magic of friendship doesn’t just exist in Equestria. You can seek it out. Or, you can forever be alone.” These days, Sunset couldn’t imagine a worse fate than the exile she would’ve earned.  The guard led them to a full-body metal detector, which meant Sunset had to forfeit her phone and the emergency sextant Twilight had in her pocket, but otherwise, they got through without issue. Timber did so under protest, pouting all the way.  At the next juncture, they’d reached a check-in desk, not unlike that at a hotel. Yes, thank you, Sunset thought. I’m here to check-in for my lifetime stay. Are there mints on the pillows? Although, unlike most hotel lobbies, behind the desk towered a great metal door keeping them from the rest of the detention centre with locks so complex Sunset would have thought she’d need magic to open them. A sickly sinking feeling tugged at her gag reflex. Who could possibly need that much reinforcement to hold in?  And it could have been the irrational fear that made her legs feel crooked underneath her, but for half a second, Sunset could’ve sworn that the guard dog waiting at the desk’s side had three heads. Of course, it was just a set of triplet bulldogs piling over each other to meet the new friends, but Sunset almost could’ve been fooled. Their coats were all the same coal soot black, as if the three of them had been recently rolling around in a lit fireplace. Timber went to work giving each of them loves and belly rubs, so at the very least he wasn’t pouting anymore. That gave Sunset a chance to level with the guard on duty. “Hello, sir. We’re looking to visit an inmate. Her name’s Sunset Shimmer.”  The guard appraised her as if looking at fresh meat. “Shimmer…” He took some time to look through his computer system, but splayed out his hands. “Sorry. We don’t have a Sunset Shimmer in this institution.” Timber perked up along with the puppies, as if they’d grown a fourth head, but Sunset didn’t meet his eye. She shook her head. “She’s here. Are you absolutely sure there’s no one here who goes by anything like that?” The guard considered it, hemming and hawing. “Well. No Shimmers here, but we have a Glow. Could that be who you’re here to see?” Timber stood, holding one of the puppies in his arms seeming to offer it to Sunset for comfort. She sighed. “No. Thanks anyway.” The best Sunset could do was hold out hope that the Home Team had had better luck.  By the time the Away team returned home to Canterlot City, a snow storm stole the stars. The cloud-cover could have been composed of the condensated kind of misty haze that led stranded sailors astray. Snowflakes twirled around their car. The wiper kept the beat.  Sunset checked her phone again. Twilight didn’t format her texts like formal emails anymore so the text only read: Any luck? Sunset’s lip tugged down. No, she replied, her fingers exposed to the cold of the heater-free car. Only thing I can think now is she left the country or the dimension, but even if she’s a runaway, there should be some trace of where she started, right? Nothing at the orphanage?  Nothing that we could find, but we’ll keep looking, Twilight assured. She has to be somewhere.  That was it for a long while, maybe an hour or so. Then, out of nowhere, Sunset’s phone decided to blast Right There in Front of Me, the ring-tone she’d set for Twilight’s phone. Sunset’s heart leapt. “Hello?” “Hi, Sunset, put me on speaker, please.” Sunset told Timber who it was and complied. As soon as she did, Timber leaned over. “You’re on the Timset Power Hour, go for Timber.” Twilight’s voice exploded out of the speaker. “You’re on the news!”  Timber looked dopeily at Sunset who did the same back. Sunset’s eyebrows pushed together and she asked, “Babe, are you talking to me? Is it the other Sunset?” “No! Timber! The Bridle Columbia RCMP is looking for you! You’re a Missing Persons case!” And what she said next put more fear into that boy than Sunset had ever seen in him. “Does your sister not know where you are?” Timber Spruce dropped the largest of F-bombs and narrowly avoided crashing into the car in front of them.  Sure enough, when Sunset turned on the data on her phone to check the Royal Bugle’s website, one of the top stories on the front page included an article with a live video featuring Gloriosa Daisy. Gloriosa stood in front of a helicopter with the Camp Everfree logo on the tail being interviewed and she held up a printed out photo of Timber mugging for the camera. She looked like she either hadn’t slept in days or her mascara was running—or both. “—ber Brambleton Spruce, about 6 foot 3, 17 years old but acts 10, and he hasn’t been answering his phone! Have you seen him? Please, we have to find him. He’s the only family I⁠—” She huffed raggedly. “We really, super need to find him!” The reporter angled the microphone back to ask, “And if your brother’s watching this broadcast right now, what would you say to him?” The microphone pointed back towards Gloriosa who took the thing in her hands as she said, “Timber, listen to me. If you’re not dead⁠—please, oh, please for the love of Pan don’t be dead⁠—and if you’re not, I’m going to murder you! Please don’t be dead.” In the driver’s seat, Timber stared ahead, unblinking and whispered, “I’m dead.” Twilight, who had stayed on the phone during the video, whistled. “Well, um… good luck?”  Sunset wheeled on him. “Dude! Have you seriously not told your sister where you’ve been since the first switch?” Timber appeared white as a sheet, the sort kids wore on Nightmare Night to signify they were as dead as he was. “I… kind of didn’t tell her I’d be gone to begin with?” “Timber, what the hell!” “I wanted boyfriend smooching time! I didn’t know I’d teleport to another continent! Then things got kind of busy, and I wanted to help fix stuff, one thing led to another, you know, so I guess I sort of… forgot?” He slapped his forehead. “Oh. Oh wow, I’m a dingus.”  And so, the next day, Flash took his boyfriend and the Rainbooms to city hall. Rather than a citizen’s arrest, he’d parked next to an old cruiser and met them at the front door. “Hey. Guess you guys didn’t find the Other Sunset, but how was your mystical bonding field trip?” Sunset pocketed her hands in her leather jacket, glad for the warmth in the well and truly winter day. “We talked,” she said, kicking herself for nearly forgetting that her real responsibility was to her friends. “And, uh, bonding happened?” “All the best friend bonding happened!” Timber, who insisted on stopping on their way over, came bearing a whole tray of ice cream cones, personalized to each of their friends based on what Sunset knew of what they all liked.  Pinkie Pie gasped, “Best friend bonding ice cream, my favourite! Wow, you two really did get closer, huh?” “Oh yeah,” Timber boasted, slinging an arm around Sunset’s shoulders. “We shared feelings, we unlocked secret origin stories, and digging deep, we learned a lot about each other, but really? We learned about ourselves.” When all the ice cream cones had been taken, he held the cardboard tray at his side. “You could say the real Other Sunset was the friends we made along the way.” Groaning, Rainbow Dash looked like she was debating throwing down her rocky road onto the pavement. “This whole time she was just a metaphor? Dammit! I ran through five different counties!” “Yeah, the Away Team didn’t have much luck in that department, either.” Timber directed his ice cream-covered smile, and thus the attention of the group, toward Flash and Twilight. “I take it the Home Team didn’t find her hiding out in the library?” “I wish.” Twilight shook her head, grimacing over a scoop of mint chocolate chip and offering Timber a napkin as if on instinct. “Nothing at the orphanage, the library, hospital, school board system—not even a trace! Thankfully, no mortuary records, either.” Feeling her extremities go cold, Sunset gawked at her. “Holy Celestia, Twilight. You… you thought⁠—?” “Just trying to be thorough!” Twilight promised, waving her hand as if to ward off the omen. “Although, that one was a relief not to find her in...” Sunset was tempted to make a joke that she would hope her girlfriend wanted her alive, but by the way Twilight was now clutching her chest, Sunset imagined how that must have felt for Twilight yesterday, searching through obituaries and coffin receipts to see if Sunset’s time on earth was meant to be short.  Her friends (thankfully) agreed, and Rarity added, “How frightfully ghoulish! Practical, I suppose, but still, a horrid thing to have to think about. I’m so glad we can safely put that scenario behind us.” Nodding, Fluttershy broke off a piece from her dwindling waffle cone. “Anything we did find turned out to be linked to our Sunset Shimmer. We thought we had something when we found some records at the courthouse, but I guess Sunset’s been to court and never told us???” They all turned to her for an explanation. “Oh. Have I never mentioned that?” She rubbed her neck, continuing to not mention it. “I’ll tell you later. Point is, you didn’t find Other Me, but Flash had an idea?” Flash, in the middle of making quick work of his ice cream, froze when all of his friends’ eyes turned to him. “Oh! Oh yeah, I do! I thought, you know, two birds? I called in a quick favour.” Leading them up the stone steps to city hall, Flash led the charge into the overly grand, heavy-doored entrance-way. A confusing statue of a horse and its pioneer human rider seeming to shake hand/hoof boasted the peaceful town motto at the statue’s base: Keeping Things Stable. The dream tax-payers built, Sunset supposed. And the one teenagers made fun of. But then, aside from the community rec centre portion of it, Sunset also had never been crystal clear on what this building was really for, anyway. She’d only relatively recently gotten a handle on the concept of democracy and all its contradictions. In a world without cutie marks⁠—a fact she still refused to accept⁠—she guessed they had to come up with something.  It seemed to work, or at least appear like it worked in a stupendously showy way. The place smelled not unpleasantly of floor wax, almost like almonds. The marble floor gleamed reflecting back the skylights and their streams of sunbeams above. Unfortunately, all the skylights gave onlookers a view of now was the tear in the sky pressing down on the city. Bursting out of her office, Mayor Mare nearly fell under the weight of an immense amount of paperwork as she fended off the echoic clamour of reporters and concerned citizens. One reporter hollered, “Mayor! Any comments on crack’s origins?” “Do the rumours of the crack’s divinity have any validity?” “Does the crack have anything to do with the odd activity at Canterlot Highschool last spring?” Twilight paled, shrinking into her shoulders. Sunset hadn’t known that anyone but the students of Crystal Prep knew about what happened at the Friendship Games. But then, the nearby neighbourhood had to have seen, and even if everyone among the two schools agreed to keep Midnight Sparkle and Daydream Shimmer offline, who was to say some security footage hadn’t leaked? “No comment!” the Mayor harrumphed, trying her damnedest just to keep the stack of paperwork from tipping over.  A junior columnist that looked almost too young pushed his way through the legs of the grown-up reporters, using his size to his advantage. A bit of a pipsqueak, really. He held up a recording device. “Mayor! Mayor, over here! How much danger are the people of Canterlot City really in?” The Mayor hesitated, steadying her stack. She offered an assuaging gaze to the intrepid young reporter. “Any threat to the safety of our community is my utmost concern. That, I can promise.” She passed by Sunset without a second glance.  As the Mayor entered her office, the reporters clamoured louder as if to reach her through the walls, but a muscular figure with a tie, long jacket, and a private eye badge strapped off to one side of his belt kept them at bay. Sunset instantly recognized him as the local force detective; but more frightening, her ex-boyfriend’s dad. The resemblance between Flash Magnus and Flash Junior still threw Sunset off. Apart from the brazenly red, cropped hair, Magnus outdid his son from every angle. A sharper jawline, a chiseled physique, and even a stronger but not unpleasant cologne. His features were harsher and scarier, in Sunset’s opinion—but she also wasn’t entirely convinced this man hadn’t been tempted to hunt her down like one of the subjects of his investigations after she broke his son’s heart.  Sunset’s smile strained as she whispered to Flash, “Uh, hey, just checking in here: your dad’s not still mad at me for the whole breaking-your-heart breakup thing, right?” Flash, currently looking more like Sunset than Sunset did, whispered back, “... You know, I hadn’t thought of it.” “And now that you have?” “I’m afraid.” Sunset Shimmer genuinely hoped Detective Magnus wouldn’t mistakenly murder his son today. Timber’s eyebrows leapt at the words ‘your dad’ and he took to smoothing down his rainbow hair and straightening his beanie. Detective Magnus spotted them as they approached and waved them over. Even still, Twilight cleared her throat and put out a sweaty hand for him to shake. “Hi there, sir! It is I, Flash Sentry, your eldest son! Here with local fugitive Timber Spruce!” She whipped her head back toward her friends and made an expression as if she were silently asking for death in the form of the word ‘eldest???’. Local Fugitive Timber Spruce gave her a thumbs up. Detective Magnus raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to have bigger priorities at hand. As soon as he noticed Rarity, he walked right past Timber and totally missed the hand Timber was extending for a formal shake.  Detective Magnus only needed one appraising look over Rarity’s current Timber-y appearance to assess: “So. Timber Spruce, huh? You know you’ve put quite a scare into that sister of yours, she’ll be happy to know you’re safe, but first, an important matter: You’re the boyfriend?” Rarity, making the briefest of eye contact with a panicked Flash, delivered a smile as warm as s’mores over a campfire. “Indeed, sir, I can say that at the moment I am! Your son is quite the young gentleman. And might I add, it’s the finest pleasure to make your acquaintance. Consider me charmed. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken us this long.” A solid moment stood between them, unblinkingly. Then Magnus barked a chuckle, slapped his hand into 'Timber’s' and shook. “I’ll be damned! What a good-mannered young man! And so well-groomed, too! Fashionable, even. Any man that knows the value of a respectably ironed shirt is okay by me,” he said, his shirt looking particularly ironed. Rarity waved a hand as if she’d told this joke a hundred times. “And any man that doesn’t is hardly a man at’all.” If Timber wasn’t sweating before, Sunset thought she could see it now. Magnus laughed. “Oh, I like you. Kids today, with their baggy pants and stupid hats. You’re one of a kind! You know, I think you’d even do well on the force. Where’d you find this one, deputy?” Twilight needed an elbow to the back to know that was Flash’s nickname. “I, uh⁠—” Rarity continued on, “Oh, you flatter me, really! I, for one, find the acceptance of a significant other’s parents to be of the utmost importance, so it’s quite the relief to hear I have yours.”  Detective Magnus clapped her on the back, one hand still shaking one of hers. “Of course, son. As long as you stay this perfect for my boy, we won’t have any problems.” Timber swallowed a mewl before it could escape. Sunset patted his back. Seeing this, Twilight decided to bail them out by getting in between Rarity and the Detective before Magnus could invite him to a meet-the-parents dinner. “Uh, I’m really happy you two are getting along so well! But, we did come on more official business?” “Of course.” Detective Magnus’s entire countenance changed, and not for the better. He shepherded the lot of them into the mayor’s office, all the while telling the reporters, “The Mayor only has time for very important people. That includes and is limited to very important teenagers. Good day!” He shut the door behind them and Sunset was glad for the sound-proofing in here. The veranda windows behind the mayor’s desk treated her to an ever-constant view of the rip in space-time above the downtown core (and a lovely little garden of posies). Silhouetted against the daylight, Mayor Mare seemed to have the weight of the nation on her shoulders, rather than a city.  Sunset wondered if the Mayor knew she had more than just Canterlot City to worry about if the tear released more than just paradoxical magic powers. She was answered when Mayor Mare’s head shot up upon their entry and her sharp eyes pinned on the teenagers before her. “Well. I was wondering when I might hear from all of you. You have quite the presence in this town.” “Presence?” Fluttershy questioned, a tad nervously. Applejack exchanged a look with Sunset that, to her, said that AJ was ready and willing to defend Sunset’s right to exist in this universe if the mayor had any problems with her. Mayor Mare gestured to the pile of paperwork in the bin labelled Canterlot High. “Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna have been in contact, filling me in since, oh, well over a year now! I hope you didn’t think your school’s magical mishaps didn’t just disappear from the public eye on their own.” Sunset’s shoulders clenched in a flinch. Oh Celestia. The words I’m sorry had come out of Sunset’s mouth too many times to count. She was well-rehearsed, if nothing else. But she froze up. Her friends, meanwhile, exchanged looks and Rarity’s eyes bloomed. “Good heavens...” Twilight fiddled with the drawstrings of her hoodie. “Gosh, I-I’m so sorry Mayor. We didn’t realize…” Fluttershy stepped forward. “We’re sorry we’ve made so much extra work for you! That can’t be easy when you’re already running the city.” Kind smile locked and loaded, Mayor Mayor stood and took one of Fluttershy’s hands to pat. “No need to apologize. It’s my duty to protect my citizenry and I take that job very seriously. While I appreciate, well, being appreciated, I promise you we’re up to the task. I have an expert on the case.” She smiled gamely to Detective Magnus over her half moon spectacles. “Or as much of an expert as anyone can be.” The private eye in the room nodded from the corner, eyeing who he thought was Sunset in particular.  “Protecting the normalcy left in your lives is a full-time job.” Sunset felt her gut twist at that.  Her friends did deserve normalcy, she just hadn’t realized how much she was jeopardizing that. “You kids don’t deserve to have the world banging down your doors or treating you like demons. Or aliens, as the case may be.” He made a point of aiming a look at the person most resembling Sunset. Flash spoke up on her behalf, since that person happened to be him. “Thanks. It’s, uh, good to see you again, by the way.” Chin raised, Detective Magnus leaned back on the Mayor’s desk with almost more authority than her, his arms planted firmly against his chest. He narrowed his eyes. “Hello, Miss Shimmer. I see you haven’t dropped out of Canterlot High or blown it up with your demon magic recently. Good for you.”  Spending her community service days helping rebuild the front of the school under Detective Magnus’s watchful eye had been an ordeal Sunset was pleasantly surprised to survive. Explaining what she’d done and where she came from had been another. The Detective delivered the same devastating look back then as he was giving Flash now. “Although I suggest you put a stop to that vandal business, Flanksy.” Sunset felt the sweat gathering under her armpits and could do nothing to alleviate it. Nor could she unclench her stomach (or other regions). Applejack frowned beside her. “Vandal business? Sunset isn’t a⁠—” Twilight blurted out, “So, father! Have you been able to find anything in that search I asked you to do? The, er, the search for the other Sunset Shimmer?” Detective Magnus didn’t stop glaring at the person he thought was Sunset long enough to notice Twilight’s awkwardness. Instead, he sighed with his shoulders. “I did.” Sunset leaned in. She could feel her heart hanging in the balance and clung to this last hope of finding herself. “And? Where is she? Can we go find her?” “It wouldn’t do you any good,” he told them. Detective Magnus set his cap on the desk and sunk a hand through his spiked hair. “I checked through our database and I’ll admit I didn’t believe this parallel duplicates thing, but it’s like you said: we have no record of this Sunset ever existing until a few years ago, like she popped out of nowhere. Problem is, even with a deep search, that’s the only record of any Sunset Shimmer existing.” Trading a look with the mayor of Canterlot City, the Force Detective dropped his hands to the desk. “We don’t know what to tell you kids. There is no other Sunset Shimmer.”