//------------------------------// // Act 2 CH 4 New Beginnings: Midnight’s Cave // Story: Twilight's Nightmare // by Nightsclaw //------------------------------// Slowly, tentatively, far too much like a skittish little foal, she pushed her foreleg out of the cave. The feeble background mana flux tore at the holes in her soul like salt rubbed into wounds, but importantly, it caused no additional damage. She embraced the pain as she defiantly stalked out of the soothing isolation of the cavern. The walk to Our Town gave her far too much time to think and gave the voices far too much time to offer their suggestions. Without a physical body, she made no involuntary sounds, no heartbeat, no breaths, not even the sound of her hairs brushing against each other as she walked. Merely being a massless soul, a collection of magic, her hooves did not even mark the dusty ground she walked on. If not for her memories, there would be no evidence of her passing. Our Town was a ghost town. Only wind-blown detritus prowled the streets. The intact buildings might prove useful if she ever had to house ponies, but right now they were good for nothing. A small part of her whispered that they might make pretty explosions. That they would serve as a remmider of her continued existence. For a moment, she considered what the pyrotechnic display would look like. "No," she sighed. The effort to repair them to hide the evidence of her being here felt like far too much work for a simple experiment in detonation-based demolition. The voices wanted her to do other things, but she ignored them. She had nothing, so the first thing to do was inventory what was there. That these were ponies' homes did not matter. Our Town had no defences from monsters, so it would be years or decades before they returned, and without maintenance, most things would be lost. Even though the buildings were all the same size and shape on the outside, the insides were all different. Each spoke of the pony who lived there, their talent, hobbies and loves on display for all to see. She started sorting items into piles. As it was a clear sky, she just used the street outside. The first one was for things that were useful in their current form. This one for ones that could be repurposed, another for ones that she would need to break down to extract materials, and one last one for junk. Her eyes settled on a picture, A large red stallion that seemed familiar next to a lavender mare. Even though the silver in the frame could be repurposed, she left it in place. Looting is a crime, you know? You're a criminal. You're a bad pony. Do they have any ice cream? Midnight Sparkle, supervillain, stealer of Ice Cream. "Will you shut up?" Nope. She sighed but could not find the strength to compel their silence. They were annoying, but at least their innate prattle was better than the silence. As a book floated by in her aura, she asked a question. "So what's your favourite book and why?" The voices each answered and bickered about their choices. The voices were just as annoying, but at least the topic was more interesting. Midnight added her own comments, and the discussion, if you could call it that, continued. Then she moved to the bedroom, a dark and terrible form caught her eye, and she froze. The mirror was not kind. The beauty of her form was gone. Instead of the sleek perfection with libraries of arcane symbols dancing inside, this ragged torn mess with smudges and chaotic arcs of mana looked back. A dozen different eyes looked out all over her body as half that number of mouths continued their discussion on whether Starswirl's journal or a Daring Do book was the superior relaxing read. "I have more holes than Chrysalis did." They're not holes. We are just being efficient with our being. You're so holy, you should start your own religion. Well, at least we are alive? "Alive?" Was she alive? She existed, she thought, but was she truly alive? Had she ever been truly alive? Look, more books! A book flew through her head, the intangible form rippling and shifting as her aura opened the foal's book in front of her. The simplistic image of Celestia looked out form the page and Midnight got to see an exploding house form the inside. Time had passed, she knew that, but she had no idea how long it had been. Both the shelter of the safe and the walls of books around her kept her safe. She had to enchant the blankets to make it work, but she snuggled under a few dozen of them while reading a Daring Do book. The voices, with their own eyes, were reading other books, all bunched up in places where they were not covered by their blankets. The book fort was not the largest. Our Town only had so many books. Half of them were blank, and some others were just ledgers or personal journals, but it was better than nothing. Midnight looked up from the book and took in the cavern. Everything from Our Town was here, from the stone of the buildings to crumbs from the back of the cupboards. Everything was sorted and organized by type, size, colour and material. On the wall behind the sorted piles, dozens of paintings and photos were stuck, secured to the wall. Many different ponies looked out at her. It was nice not to be alone, and even if they were just images, she could pretend. "I don't remember doing that." Well, you kinda blew the place up and wanted to hide the evidence… You don't think somepony is going to notice the Town is just missing? Well, at least it's neat and tidy. The explosions were pretty. Midnight looked away from the piles. Doing things and not remembering them was never a good sign. "Shall we read this book together? There's enough of us we can each one of the voices?" The voices agreed, and thus, the strangest story time she could remember began.