//------------------------------// // Chapter 24 // Story: This Story Did Not Explode // by PseudoBob Delightus //------------------------------// She woke up confused. Her bed was warm and comfortable. Light was coming in from the window the same way it always did. Birds were chirping and there was hay and flowers and firewood in the air, like always. But still something felt off to Twilight. She wasn't running a fever, and she wasn't nauseous. Her throat didn't hurt when she swallowed. She wasn't dizzy when she got out of bed and stood up. Her room was organized exactly how she'd left it. What else could it be? Maybe it was the cloying memory of a dream, fading with time. Or maybe it was nothing at all. Twilight shrugged and decided it was probably nothing, or probably the dream thing, which was pretty close to nothing anyway. So she went about her normal pony business, like brushing her mane. First at the ends, then down to the roots, she untangled her bed-head and made it bounce and shine again. It felt good to brush her mane for the last time. After that, she headed downstairs to get breakfast ready- Wait. For the last time? Why did she think that? What did that mean? Spike yawned and plodded past her. "Hey Twilight," he groaned. "You gonna use the shower?" "Oh," Twilight said. She was still a little shaken by the sudden intrusive thought. "No, I was, I was going downstairs. Go ahead." "Alrighty," Spike said, clearly a little confused over how Twilight was acting. So was Twilight. But she decided not to dwell on it too much. All that nothing was still bothering her, making her feel weird and think strange things, clearly. She needed to clear her mind. So she went downstairs to make breakfast. There was nothing in the world quite like the smell of fresh haycakes. And there was something special about the way the batter lightly sizzled on the pan at first, before firming up; and the way it bubbled slowly as it cooked. She waited and watched the popping bubbles fill back in with flowing batter, but slower every time, until finally the bubbles would stay open. Only then, and exactly then, was it ready to flip. The bottom of the haycake was a perfect golden brown. Oh, she could practically taste it already! While more cakes cooked, she started to get the plates and cutlery out, then the butter and jam and maple syrup. The haycakes were beginning to stack, and no stack of haycakes would be complete without all these things. By the time she heard the water turn off upstairs, breakfast was done. She took her first haycake and smeared it with butter, cut it into a grid, drizzled it with syrup, and stabbed a piece with a fork before levitating it into her mouth. It was... Pillowy! Delicious! Perfect! Considering this was the last time she'd ever eat breakfast, she would accept nothing less than- The fork clattered onto the plate and Twilight walked out of the kitchen. Breakfast was over. She needed some steps. Or some sunlight. Or some fresh air. Anything to get this damned idea out of her head. So she just walked outside. There was no need for anything complicated. She just took a walk around Ponyville to see if there was anything to take her mind off things. Maybe some ponies with friendship problems. Or organizational problems. Or really any problems she could distract herself with. Unfortunately, it was a normal, peaceful morning around town. Stores were still closed, the markets were still being set up, and what few ponies who were out at this hour were still too sleepy to have any problems she could distract herself with. So she took in the scenery. Under a blue-green sky, nature was most active. Rabbits were munching on shoots and leaves. Squirrels and chipmunks were scrambling across branches and digging for winter reserves. Yellow warblers and red-breasted robins and black-capped chickadees and various other birds named for combinations of colours and funny words were flitting about between the trees, skimming ponds and streams, and singing their hearts out. They all seemed unperturbed by the chilly Spring air, the hardness of the ground, or the heady, heart-pounding sense of impending doom. It seemed unfair. Nothing was different, and yet everything was different. The bustle of town life, the rustle of budding trees, and the crunch of yellow grass beneath her hooves made Twilight feel homesick for a home she hadn't yet lost. Even the sunrise, now, with its warm and radiant light scattered through the low horizon, felt insufficient when she thought about how this was the last one she'd ever see. Her hooves found the sides of her head, and she screamed, "AAAHHH!!!" A few heads turned. "Huh?" asked a nearby stallion she didn't recognize. "What's wrong?" "Th-this!" she answered, pointing towards the sun. Then she gestured at herself. "Haycakes!" Then all around. "Everything! It's all going to end!" The stallion just looked at a pony next to him. He repeated, "Huh?" The way they looked at Twilight - they looked at her like she was insane. Well, maybe she was! It was only a matter of time, right? Things like this were always happening. And ponies were always judging her for overreacting. Sure, they never came out and said anything, but she could tell! She could always tell! She should have just stayed in bed! So she made tracks, leaving a pony-shaped cloud of dust behind her, and ended up back at the library so quickly that she nearly bowled Spike over on his way out the door. "Twilight!" he gasped. "What's wrong?" "Me," she said, falling to her haunches. "I feel like the world is ending, and I have no idea why..." "Hmmm," Spike hummed. Then he pointed up at the sky. "Maybe it has something to do with that?" Twilight looked up. "Well, horseapples."