Light strode through the doors of Ponyville's hospital alongside her double. Convincing that one to come with was easy. Twilight had been up late studying just as Light assumed and was more than eager to help, given the severity of what happened. Light also suspected Twilight felt guilty somehow for still having what Light had lost, and for taking her place, but that wasn't a conversation Light would get into just then. A little guilt killed nopony, Rarity's predicament just might.
The young mare at the front desk hesitated not a moment in letting them through and giving directions to the proper room, despite the late hour. She even allowed Twilight to look through the nurse's report on the incident. The staff at Ponyville General all knew Twilight Sparkle, and they wouldn't dare impede the Princess of Friendship. Not that any version of Twilight felt the title really warranted all that much deference. Or that she considered it appropriate to so easily give access to otherwise private medical records.
"It's strange," the office worker said as they passed, "never in one night have I seen so many ponies wanting to visit an empty room!"
"There were others?" Twilight asked way too casually, clearly trying to avoid causing alarm.
"Well, just one, but now three which feels like a lot!" the mare tittered. "The other one said she was some kind of detective. Not sure what there is to detect here, but she carried a badge and everything!"
"Fascinating. Is she still here?"
"I haven't seen her leave!"
The two Twilights shared a look, turning away from the mare who was far too bubbly for the time of night. With that look, Light knew they were thinking the same thing: Rarity didn't officially report a crime and neither was there any evidence of one, so why was a supposed detective here? Ponyville didn't even have its own officers!
There was only one way to find out.
The two ponies marched side by side toward room 209, where Rarity had been treated. Not a soul was seen along the way, with the relatively few patients largely asleep and the limited hospital staff either busy or in other parts of the building. It gave the white walls and fluorescent lights an almost eerie feeling. Sterile, cold, lonely. One of the lights even flickered along the way, adding to the effect. Light barely noticed. She didn't find empty hallways creepy anymore.
When they arrived at 209, they found the door cracked open with light emitting from within. Something moved beyond and a shadow briefly passed across that crack in the doorway. Twilight made a series of gestures indicating they should wait and listen, but Light wasn't interested in sneaking about.
The door swung open easily at Light's hoof, allowing her a full view of the room and the mare standing beside the bed. She was garbed crest to dock all in black such that her gray coat was only visible at the head. A duster, travel-worn boots, and a hat with a flat, circular brim just wide enough to shadow her face and cover most of that dark mane made her look more the part of an outlaw than the law itself.
This new pony watched them silently through silver eyes until both ponies were fully in the room, then bowed low, tipping her hat even lower with a hoof. "Your highnesses," she spoke in a drawl not too dissimilar from Applejack's, "it's a mighty fine pleasure to meet you here."
Light and Twilight shared a look of confusion, though Twilight spoke first. "Were you expecting us?"
"No," the pony moved around to inspect the medical equipment, "but when you're in Ponyville, one must prepare for the unexpected. Important ponies everywhere; crazy things happen."
Light was growing impatient. "Enough with the casual act. Just tell us who you are and why you're here."
Twilight nodded in agreement. "You must understand this is highly unusual."
"Oh," the mare smirked, "is the detective from out of town checking out a random hospital room in the middle of the night without a word to local authorities unusual? I hadn't realized. My sincerest apologies." She once again swept into a bow, practically kissing the floor it was so deep.
When both Twilights merely glared at her, she quickly straightened. "Perhaps introductions are in order. My name is Detective Gray and I am here on assignment from the Canterlot Constabulary." She pulled open her duster to show a badge. "I had heard there was a rather vulnerable young unicorn in a coma here, and a famous one at that. Sounded like a prime target to me, so I thought I'd try to catch my quarry in the act. Seems like I must've been wrong though. By all accounts, Miss Rarity is safe and sound."
"Hold on." Light quietly shut the door. "What quarry? What act were you trying to catch?"
"It's probably unrelated to anything your highness would need to know, but I'll talk." Gray paced over toward the window, briefly lifting the shades and glancing out. "There've been several disappearances in Canterlot recently. All unicorns, all relatively young. Now, Canterlot's a massive city. A few seemingly similar disappearances could be nothing. An anomaly. Some of my superiors certainly think so. I'm a cautious mare though. If there's even a chance of a connection, I want to be on top of it. I wasn't sure there'd be anything this far from the big city, but given how the one before last disappeared from a hospital too, I figured I'd roll the dice on it."
"That's a commendable attitude," Twilight hesitantly smiled. "And you may not be as wrong as you think. Rarity says she was attacked."
"I'm not sure we should tell—" Light started, but it was already too late. Twilight was all-too-happy to share with the strange detective the whole story, which Light herself had given Twilight not an hour gone.
When Twilight finished, Gray merely frowned. "Interesting, but I'm not convinced it and the Canterlot case are connected. It doesn't exactly fit the circumstances around the others. In fact, given your friend's state and the total lack of evidence here, I'm more inclined to believe what you're describing was nothing more than a trauma-induced hallucination. I ain't a doctor though, so what do I know? Maybe it's something else altogether."
Light could feel her hoof itching to collide with her face. It was exactly what she expected would happen. But then again, maybe that was a good thing. She had no reason to trust this pony and her nonsensical story anyway.
Twilight, on the other hoof, seemed perfectly willing to consider this explanation. "It’s entirely possible that you’re right, detective, but I wouldn't assume so without checking all our bases. Fortunately, I have a way to test it. A detection spell will reveal any magic cast in or near the room within the past twenty-four hours. Seeing as how the nurse came through the only door and the window remained unopened, if there was something here, it would have had to use magic to escape."
"A reasonable assumption." Gray nodded. "I already checked: nothing larger than a rat could safely fit through the ventilation; nothing was seen coming in or out on either the interior or exterior cameras. Cast your spell. Let's get us some answers."
Twilight took a breath then walked to the center of the room, her horn shining brilliantly enough to give the entire room a raspberry glow. The flare of magical energies was as brief as it was bright, disappearing to leave only a faint trace of magic in the air over Rarity's bed, right where she'd been sleeping.
"That bit there on the bed," Gray pointed. "Is that one of these traces of magic we're looking for? Shouldn't there be more? I mean, it didn't escape from on top of the bed, did it?"
"No, it did not." Twilight sighed, lowering her head. "That trace of magic is from what was still inside Rarity when she laid there this morning. If something used magic to enter or exit the room, we'd see more. A lot more."
Light pulled Twilight around to face her. "Then we're missing something. Maybe it had some way of preventing detection. Or maybe it used some as-yet-undiscovered type of magic that can't be detected by normal means. Or... I don't know! There has to be an explanation."
"It is possible we've failed to consider something," Twilight said, shrugging off Light's grip, "but we both know just how unlikely those things would be with our current understanding of magic. The most plausible explanation is that Rarity experienced these events inside her own head. That it didn't really happen, at least not physically."
"You can't be serious!" Light stamped her hoof, incredulous and furious in equal measure. "This is our friend we're talking about here! If she says it happened, then it happened. I thought you would be on our side with this."
"I'm sorry, but it is only logical to form any hypothesis based on the available evidence, or lack thereof." Twilight spoke almost too calmly, as if explaining something at a classroom lecture. "If Rarity's attack happened exactly as she described then we should have found something by now. We've ruled out all reasonably possible means for any creature to pull it off. Hallucinations, however, are extremely common for those who've undergone great mental or physical duress. And they can be quite vivid.
"According to Nurse Redheart's report, Rarity was even found choking herself with the catheter tube and had to be made to stop. That doesn't sound like an attack to me. And unlike the attack theory, the hallucination theory is actually in agreement with this evidence. Not to say that I'm discounting anything entirely just yet."
"But we know Rarity!" Light pleaded. "As prone as she is to drama, this is extreme. A pony doesn't just hallucinate an entire attack in terrifying detail then turn around and have the presence of mind to pass it off as a nightmare and go through a doctor's exam without issue."
"I might point out that a pony usually doesn't have the presence of mind to go through an actual attack and be that stable afterwards either. Regardless, her experience in the pocket dimension has clearly hardened her. It's also done considerable damage. I believe that she believes she was attacked, but going all in on this one idea alone on the sole basis of her belief will do her no favors. If it happened, we must find evidence as to how. Otherwise, the best thing we can do is get her professional help. In fact, it's probably the best thing regardless—for you and Sweetie Belle too. Anypony would need it after what you've all been through. I even have somepony I can recommend."
"No." Light backed away, noticing how pointedly the detective was looking anywhere but at them. "If said psychiatric 'help' would discount our experiences like this, then I don't think I want to see them at all."
"Please be reasonable." Twilight followed after her, doing her best to appear sympathetic. "You two have been through worse than Tartarus together. I understand that you want to show her your support now, and I understand how you're probably more ready to believe terrible things are out there after all you've been through, but we are still mares of logic. You know I'm not your enemy. You know you need help. Please let me be that help."
"It's getting late." Light stared at the floor, trying not to notice how her shadow lacked a horn. "You should probably get to sleep. Big party tomorrow by the sounds of it."
Twilight slumped, perhaps realizing she'd get nowhere with this tonight. "Fine. I'll go. But please remember that we all just want to help. My door's open any time."
"I know. Make sure to check Fluttershy for any sign of magic. We still don't know what it meant when it said she was delicious."
Twilight sighed. "Of course I will. Try not to be too upset if I don't find anything."
"Thank you. Goodbye."
And with that, Twilight swung the door open with her magic and left the room.
Light waited a moment longer as she took a few breaths to calm down. This was stupid. She couldn't even get along with herself. And now she was embarrassed at having had that argument and probably coming across as a madmare right in front of a Canterlot detective.
Light made to leave but was stopped by a hoof on her shoulder.
"A moment of your time," Detective Gray drawled as she gently closed the door. "We may just be able to help each other yet."
"Why?" Light turned. "You said it yourself: you don't think this has anything to do with your investigation."
"I did say that, didn't I?" Gray walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and motioning Light to take the chair opposite of her. "Course, that don't mean I was telling the truth. The circumstances are a bit different, I'll give ya that, but I ain't willing to give up on the idea just yet."
"Then why did you say otherwise!" Light practically screeched. "If you'd backed me up a minute ago, I might have gotten her on my side!"
"Well, you see," Gray motioned again for her to take a seat, "that's sort of the point. If we bring the Princess of Friendship in on this then it's only a matter of time before they know we're onto them."
"Who's 'they?' Also, I don't know if you noticed, but I'm the Princess of Friendship too!" Light could feel a migraine coming on. She let herself fall into the chair, more out of fatigue than any desire to comply with the detective's request.
"Legally speaking, you're right. But that don't mean most ponies will see it that way." Gray glanced toward Light's forehead. "Your loss is most regrettable, but it may just be to our advantage. As long as the other Twilight's walking around, she's the one they'll be paying attention to. You're nothing more than an amusing side story to them."
"Joy," Light deadpanned, feeling herself sink further into the chair.
"As for just who the enemy is, we don't know yet. What we do know is that they've been kidnapping unicorns, and they started the very same day the princesses and your friends started working on their spell to pull you out of that strange place you were in. Quite the coincidence, no?"
Light sat up at that. "Earlier, you said the disappearances might be nothing, unconnected. That was a lie too, wasn't it?"
"Oh, I'm quite certain there's a connection. The last one I went after; I was right on top of them. Could hear the struggle from outside. This one was in training for the royal guard. Put up a real good fight by the sounds of it. But then things went dead silent. I'm talking tearing the place apart straight to not a peep with no in-between. No heavy breathing, no thud of a body hitting the floor, no nothing. It was unnatural. And by the time I was able to break in, there was no sign of the unicorn or his attacker."
"Interesting," Light leaned forward. "Very well, I'll help. If there's something I can do to protect those unicorns and help Rarity in the process, I'll do it. I need you to be honest with me from here on out though. I can't trust somepony who lies to get her way."
"Fair's fair." Gray pulled a flask out of her coat, taking a swig before shoving it toward Light. "To an uneasy yet highly productive partnership!"
Light took only a sip, feeling a shiver pass through her body. The stuff was vile. "Agreed. What's our first step?"
"First, you wait here while I head back to Canterlot. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but you've got a party to enjoy. It'll be sometime tomorrow you'll get a message from a friend of yours. They'll ask you to come to Canterlot. Accept, and bring your friend Rarity with you. I'll find y'all at some point after that."
"And how do you know about this message?"
Gray smirked. "I pay attention when important ponies want important things done. It rather helps with my line of work. Now, get some rest. It's good for ya."
Later that night, Light laid next to the fire, snuggled up in the filthy, tattered remains of what had once been a cloak. The darkness around her seemed to press in, and no matter how she shifted and squirmed she couldn't find a comfortable position. It didn't help that she could feel bits of pony viscera squishing beneath her.
A scraping sound alerted her to the presence of another. Across the fire, another version of herself hobbled into view from behind a mound of bodies, struggling to drag one of the better-looking lavender carcasses on account of her bad leg.
"Trouble sleeping?" Twi said. "Strange, I don't have that problem much anymore. You'd think it'd never go away in this place, wouldn't you?"
"I guess." Light rolled over, coming face to face with the wide-eyed stare of Fluttershy. She jumped, her heart pounding like a line of bookcases falling over.
How had she forgotten? Fluttershy was completely catatonic after being teleported by the next version of Twilight Sparkle. Light was determined to care for her, Twi was less so.
"Hah!" Twi belted out. "Scared by a shadow!"
"She's more than that, and you know it!" Light yelled, feeling the old argument take over. "If we don't care for her, what does that make us? Besides, you don't know she won't wake up."
"She won't if you keep going about it that way," Twi snorted, grabbing a bit of sharpened bone and getting to work on the corpse she'd dragged in. "Talking to her in soft tones won't accomplish anything. I say we try hitting her. Maybe we can shock her out of it."
"No! I won't let you!"
"Well, then what?" Twi snarled. "Do you care nothing for me? Would you so easily let me die? Can't you see that her presence is like a poisoned axe hanging over my head?"
"...what?" Light was confused. A poisoned axe? Something was wrong. This argument wasn't supposed to go this way. Twi accused Light of many things, but never of actively wishing her dead.
A memory flashed before Light's eyes. Twi, broken and bloodied, surrounded by a scattering of yellow feathers.
"Don't you see?" Twi continued, sounding desperate. "I remain crippled and weak, while she maintains her strength on the food you gave her. I only ever did what I thought was right, and yet I will be left to die alone, away from the comfort of my friends."
"I'm sorry!" Light cried as the memories came rushing back. "I should have tried to reconcile things sooner. You never were my enemy. And you're right; it's all my fault. I shouldn't have let Fluttershy have the snake or the potion. I shouldn't have let you go off on your own."
"Well, I suppose I forgive you." Twi set the sharpened bone she was working with aside. "I could hardly hold a grudge against myself, now could I? Not like the Twilight that gave me this." She shook her injured leg.
Light heaved a sigh of relief. "You... you really forgive me? Even though I got you killed?"
"Filly," Twi shook her head, "you are such a softy. Besides, it was the angel that did it."
"The what?"
Twi looked around conspiratorially before closing up and whispering in her ear. "Fluttershy's little friend. And now that she's gone, I wonder what happened to it? Best to be careful, don't you think?"
"Right..." Light turned back to look at Fluttershy, only to find her gone. In her place was a pool of blood, and within its dark reflection, a pair of golden eyes—watching, evaluating.
Light stumbled back in shock. "Uh, Twi? Twi!"
She turned. Twi stood there before her, a red line running down from her throat. Above her flapped Fluttershy, unimpeded by the effect which should have prevented flying. And held within that pony's manic grin was the same bit of sharpened bone Twi had set aside a moment earlier.
"No!" Light rushed to hold Twi, Fluttershy disappearing above them like a dispelled illusion.
"You've been given a window," Twi croaked, though it should have been impossible with an open throat. "I'll do my best to protect you. To help you see. I promise."
"Twi," Light tried and failed to stanch the bleeding, "I don't understand. You're dying!"
"Oh, right." Twi coughed, splattering Light's face with blood. "That's rough. I guess I'll see you later then."
Twi's head lolled back, her eyes going dead.
Light released the body and stepped away, feeling numb. It was bad enough the first time. Did her head really have to reimagine it in such detail? Though a fog had swept over her mind before, everything was clear now. This was a nightmare, and she needed to end it.
Light bit her own hoof, a supposed classic in the field of waking oneself up, only to find all it did was hurt. She tried shutting her eyes tight and counting to ten too, but that tactic fared no better. She even tried jumping up and down and flapping her wings to no avail.
Her frustration was rising, and her fear. She was not going to be stuck in this place! Not again! Not even in a dream!
Just as Light was searching for another idea, she noticed Twi's body was sinking, or perhaps melting. A black-red liquid was forming under her, consuming the body and those near it as this new pool slowly rose higher.
Light turned and ran, climbing over the endless mounds of decaying flesh. She slipped in gore, pricked herself on bones sticking up, and even briefly tripped on one of her bodies' horns. And despite her frantic pace, the liquid kept on rising, so quickly now she barely stayed ahead of it.
Light panicked, hyperventilating as a new problem came upon her: the pocket dimension was spherical, eventually she wouldn't be able to climb the slope. And with her hooves still slippery with blood, she came upon that point all too quickly.
She scraped and squirmed against the smooth, gray-stained-red walls of the dimension, desperate to gain even another inch as the dark liquid rose above her tail and then her hindlegs like half-congealed blood. In no time at all, her head was the only thing above the surface.
Light kicked her legs, trying to stay afloat in the viscous mess even as her body trembled in terror. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she continued to sink. Soon, the liquid passed over her head too and she was forced to close her eyes, tilting her muzzle up to take one last breath.
Finally, she slipped under.
No! She wanted to scream, but to do so would only invite the filth inside her. She wanted to cry, but some part of her knew that breaking down would do nothing. And so even as she slowly drowned, she plotted ways out. Maybe there was some way yet to wake herself?
And then she heard it: muffled screams, like a thousand other ponies drowning there alongside her. Was her imagination really so morbid? Was she so broken that she had to dream even worse horrors than the ones she actually experienced?
Light willed herself to open her eyes, knowing that in a dream it shouldn't matter what she got in them. What she saw petrified her whole, like a paralysis spell gone wrong.
Before her were a pair of giant, gleaming yellow eyes. And they spoke. Not with any words an ear might hear, but rather the power of pure projected thought.
I've seen you.
Light gasped, falling off the bed in the side room she'd taken within the Castle of Friendship. The hard, cold floor was a rough awakening, but she practically cried in joy to be on it rather than with those eyes.
The door burst open a moment later, admitting a familiar baby dragon. "Twilight! Twilight! I mean, Light! Light! Are you alright?"
"Now's not the time for rhyming, Spike," Light groaned, turned over on the floor to get a better view of her number one assistant.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to." He knelt down next to her, carefully checking for bruises. "What happened? Was it a nightmare? I hear Princess Luna's having trouble helping with those ever since... well, you know."
"Yeah, Spike," Light breathed, "a nightmare. A really weird, terrifying one, but still just a nightmare."
"Do you need me to get the other you? Maybe she has a spell that can help."
"Is she asleep?"
"Yeah. For once. But I'm sure she'd still be happy to lend a hoof!"
Light paused a moment to take in Spike's worried face, his eagerness to help. She almost took him up on his offer right then just to make him feel useful, but then she remembered her earlier exchange with Twilight. She even felt bad for exploding at her the way she did. It had been an emotional day. "There's no need to wake her. Thank you for the concern, but you can go back to bed. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" He hesitated, claws scraping against each other nervously.
She nodded.
After another moment's hesitation, Spike left, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly and shutting the door with the utmost care on the way out.
With him gone, Light turned to stare out the open window. From where she laid, she could see the beautiful night sky, filled with a million shining stars and peppered with the occasional cloud, one of which she was sure was Rainbow Dash's house. That at least was comforting. Not a view she'd ever take for granted again.
"It was just a nightmare," she told herself, breathing in and out at a slow, measured pace. "Just a nightmare."