Twilight Sparkle came to inside a poorly lit room occupied by several stacks of cardboard boxes. She estimated that the room was a cube perhaps twelve feet across. A single light bulb hung precariously from the ceiling, casting the kind of light you’d see in a murky back alley in a less than reputable neighborhood. After thoroughly inspecting her surroundings she managed to find her assistant lying perfectly still beside the largest stack.
“Spike?”
She shook him gently. It occurred to her that something was off about the young dragon. It may have been his body temperature or the fact that he laid a little too still…
“Spike?”
He wasn’t breathing. Twilight’s mind started to race. She quickly tried the door. It wasn’t locked. Outside she saw something she could only describe as a sprawling office complex. Clusters of cubicles were spread across the massive open space, tan walls separating each work space from its neighbors. There had to be someone here.
“Somepony! Call the hospital! My friend needs medical assistance!”
She didn’t wait too long for a response, instead racing back into the first room which she now realized was probably a storage closet of some sort. Spike’s condition had not improved. Remembering what little she’d read of medical journals, Twilight rolled him onto his back and began pumping his chest. He was still a child, so she lessened the force of the chest compressions, to mitigate the chance of breaking his ribs. After she’d counted thirty compressions, she tilted his head back, pinched his nose and gave him two rushed breaths. She couldn’t do this forever. She could only hope that help would arrive soon, but with nothing to indicate that anyone had even heard her, Spike’s fate seemed grim. She was beginning to panic. It couldn’t end here. He was a dragon; he was supposed to outlive her.
She felt the air inside the cramped closet move. A soft breeze carried her excess heat away, calming her down. It entered Spike’s open mouth, sliding down his windpipe. Although Twilight continued her chest compressions, she felt it wasn’t her doing that ultimately brought Spike back to her.
He sat up straight, coughing violently.
“Ghh… geez, Twilight! What are you doing?”
She felt the lukewarm wave of relief wash over her.
“I… I don’t know. You weren’t breathing.”
He looked incredulously at her.
“I wasn’t? But I feel fine.”
Twilight sat down next to Spike, took his head in her hooves, and looked him in the eyes. They were as sharp and focused as ever.
“Do you feel dizzy or have a headache?” she asked cautiously.
“No.”
“Do you hear me alright? Any double-vision?”
“My hearing’s alright, and so is my eyesight.”
She let him go.
“You can stand on your own? Any issues with balance?” she continued.
“I’m fine, see?”
Spike stood on one leg to demonstrate.
“Okay, okay,” she sighed. “Now, what’s the first question I asked you?”
He hesitated for a second.
“Um… you asked whether I felt dizzy or had a headache.”
She clapped.
“Good! Be sure to tell me if any of these symptoms develop.”
“Symptoms? What were these questions for, exactly?”
“Prolonged oxygen deprivation can result in brain damage!” she noted. “You appear to be alright, though.”
“Well… alright then.” Spike had his first detailed look of their whereabouts. “So this is… where, exactly?”
“I don’t know.” Twilight had another peek at the cubicles beyond the door. Spike’s face turned ashen. Was he injured after all?
“What’s the matter?” she asked him, worry creeping into her voice.
“D-did that… that monster put us here?”
“Monster? What are you—ohhh…” Her memories of the night before seemed to clear their collective throats politely, waiting for her to notice them. She recalled the pale stranger that arrived to her library that cold winter evening. What it wanted remained a mystery to her, as was why it would transport them here, wherever here should be.
“What if, what if we’re stuck here?” Spike stuttered. “What if we’ll never make it back? What if the thing brought us here t-to—“
“It’s too early to say,” Twilight interrupted. She too felt apprehensive, but it wouldn’t do to have the two of them panicking at once. “We’re together at least. I’m sure we can figure this out. Come on; let’s see what this place is about.”
A water cooler stood several paces away from the closet. Twilight glanced up and down the aisles, but failed to notice anyone in any of the cubicles. She turned back to see that Spike had taken one of the paper cups from the dispenser and filled it.
“Wait a second, what are you planning to do with that?”
He put his lips to the rim of the cup, but Twilight knocked it out of his hands before he could take a sip. The liquid spilled across the floor tiles, picking up dust and grime.
“Are you crazy?” she exploded.
“No. I’m thirsty,” he replied testily.
“This water could be ancient. And you’re never supposed to drink from a still pool.”
Spike looked at the puddle spreading on the floor.
“Oh. Sorry.”
She patted him on the back affectionately.
“It’s alright. But you have to be more careful.”
They departed from the cooler and began their investigation of the complex in earnest. The place was gigantic. Miniature office spaces crowded the floor in all directions. Every intersection of the aisles was equipped with a simple water cooler, just like the first they saw. Twilight couldn’t shake the feeling that these were purely for decoration. The water inside didn’t appear tainted; in actuality, it was completely crystal-clear. But Twilight remained resolute in her decision not to drink.
The cubicles themselves were sparsely furnished. The same four items occupied every single one. There was a chair, always well-worn; synthetic leather peeling from the cushions, leaving the gray pillow exposed to the few elements that this place could be said to harbor. There was a desk, similarly distressed. Atop the desk sat a stack of clean paper, yellowing, but a far cry from the parchment that Twilight had grown accustomed to. The last item inside each cubicle was an aging typewriter. This was notable, as it indicated that whatever species once occupied this space, they clearly possessed fingers or talons with which they could work the keys. The cubicles were far too small and orderly for dragons, who were notoriously solitary creatures anyway. Gryphons, perhaps? Or was this a species she’d previously not heard of? Her thoughts were interrupted by a distant ringing.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yeah!” Spike hurried out into the isle. “I think it came from this direction!”
They rushed toward the source of the noise. As they ran, Twilight began to hear a quiet, irregular ticking, much like the sort one of these typewriters would make while in use. Someone was here! Maybe they might answer the questions that lingered in Twilight’s mind. The ticking grew louder and more insistent as they neared the source. They came to another cubicle, one that was identical to its neighbors, save for the busy ticking and ringing of the typewriter within. Breathlessly, Twilight moved closer to get a look inside.
At first what she saw was disappointing. Clearly this wasn’t where the sound had originated, as there was no one here. However, as she snuck closer to the table, she made out some inconsistencies. There were several stacks of paper here of varying heights, as opposed to the single stack that was ubiquitous around the rest of the cubicles. What’s more, at least one of the stacks was used: the yellowing pages were filled with text. Having prepared herself somewhat with these small discoveries, Twilight looked at the typewriter, partially obscured from her vision by the chair. It appeared to be working on its own.
As she watched with a fascination tinged with horror, the machine arrived to the bottom of the page it was working on. An invisible force pulled the paper free of the typewriter and added it to the stack next to it. A fresh page was slowly and deliberately inserted between the cylinders, and the ticking began anew. Spike being the curious tyke that he was, decided to try and get the typewriter’s attention.
“Excuse us?”
There was a brief pause in the tapping of the keys. After almost no deliberation, the tapping resumed. Spike ran closer to investigate. Twilight had the presence of mind to hold him back slightly, as she didn’t particularly want to find out what would happen if he interrupted the keys with an input of his own. She had no qualms about reading what was being typed out, however.
***CASE SUMMARY***
CLIENT NAME: AUTUMN GUST
GENDER: FEMALE
SPECIES/RACE: EQUINE/PEGASUS
MARITAL STATUS: MARRIED
PLACE OF ORIGIN: STALLIONGRAD
FINAL RECORDED AGE: 31
ARRIVAL DATE: 06/06/01RPL
SCHEDULED DEPARTURE: 01/18/02RPL
EXPIRATION CAUSE: BEAR ATTACK (UP 2% FROM LAST YEAR)
MENTAL CONDITION: HEALTHY
RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: AGNOSTIC
NOTES: THE INCREASE IN AGGRESSIVE ENCOUNTERS WITH BEARS CAN LIKELY BE ATTRIBUTED TO STALLIONGRAD’S ONGOING INDUSTRIALIZATION AND DEVELOPMENT ENCROACHING ON BEAR TERRITORY. MRS. GUST HAS EXPRESSED ACUTE FEELINGS OF FEAR AND FOREBODING. SHE HAS REQUESTED FOR AN ESCORT TO BE PRESENT ON THE DAY OF HER DEPARTURE. AS ALWAYS, PLEASE SEE THE SUPPLEMENTARY ATTACHMENT FOR INFORMATION REGARDING MRS. GUST’S FAMILY.
Twilight barely noticed as the page was, once more, manipulated by some unknown entity and added to the stack beside the typewriter. The machine seemed to be filling out forms for some unascertained purpose. This was clearly a clue to their current predicament, but it wasn’t enough in and of itself to draw any conclusions. She felt Spike lay a claw on her side, trying to get her attention.
“Twilight? Look!”
He gestured at the typewriter, which had written something out on a new page and looked to be waiting patiently, insofar as an inanimate object can be described as ‘patient’.
I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT ACKNOWLEDGING YOU EARLIER. THESE DOCUMENTS TAKE PRECEDENCE, I AM AFRAID. NOW. HOW CAN I ASSIST YOU, GENTLEMAN AND MADAM?
Twilight coughed nervously. She wasn’t sure how to feel about holding a conversation with a sentient typewriter.
“Excuse me,” she started. “Are you talking to, erm, that is, addressing us?”
BUT OF COURSE. IS THERE ANOTHER HERE I AM NOT AWARE OF?
“Uh…”
THAT WAS INTENDED IN JEST. YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF PERCEIVING MOST CREATURES HERE, MYSELF INCLUDED.
Ah. This explained some things.
“So you’re not just a living typewriter then?”
PERISH THE THOUGHT. I AM THE SENIOR REVIEWER HERE IN THE CHARON BUREAU. THERE IS MORE TO THE WORLD THAN WHAT YOU SEE, AFTER ALL.
Twilight was suddenly struck by the feeling of unease one tends to get when they realize they aren’t quite as alone as they previously thought.
“And there are more of you here that we’re not seeing? These cubicles aren’t really empty?”
ALAS, THE BUREAU IS GENERALLY ABOUT AS BARREN AS IT APPEARS, NOWADAYS. AND THAT IS WHY YOU’RE HERE, OF COURSE.
“What is the, uh, the Charon Bureau, exactly?” asked Spike.
There was a pause, giving the impression that the senior reviewer was considering how best to phrase his answer.
THIS FACILITY, THE CHARON BUREAU, IS THE PENULTIMATE DESTINATION OF EVERY SENTIENT CREATURE. MOST ARE BROUGHT HERE UNDER SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS HERE THAT ONE IS EVALUATED BEFORE RETIRING THEMSELVES TO THEIR FINAL JOURNEY.
These inferences were lost on Spike. Twilight broke in before he could question the reviewer further.
“You said that most ponies come here ‘under similar circumstances’. What about us?”
NOT YOU. YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE WE REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE. AFTER YOU’VE COMPLETED YOUR ASSIGNMENT, YOU WILL RETURN TO EQUESTRIA.
“Thank Celestia,” Twilight sighed.
“You know, speaking of the Princess,” Spike whispered to her out of the corner of his mouth. “I could probably use one of these machines to type out a letter and send it to her… We could tell her how we got kidnapped and she’d send help, right?”
The typewriter started ticking again.
THIS IS CERTAINLY TRUE. NOTHING IS PHYSICALLY PREVENTING YOU FROM CONTACTING PRINCESS CELESTIA. THOUGH I SUPPOSE YOU ARE PROBABLY UNAWARE THAT THE SHE HAD PERSONALLY CONSENTED, OR, MORE ACCURATELY, RECOMMENDED YOUR SERVICES TO US.
Twilight blinked.
“The creature with the black cross had Princess Celestia’s permission to abduct us?”
THE AFOREMENTIONED ENTITY HAPPENS TO BE SHEOL, THE SPIRIT OF PENANCE, AND THE MASTER OF THE BUREAU. HE IS CURRENTLY ON GOOD TERMS WITH THE KINGDOM OF EQUESTRIA. WE WERE LOOKING FOR A FEW CORPOREAL INDIVIDUALS TO PERFORM A COMPARABLY SIMPLE TASK, AND THE PRINCESS, NATURALLY, SUGGESTED THAT YOU AND THE REST OF THE ELEMENTS WOULD BE IDEAL CANDIDATES.
Somehow this news was upsetting, but it took Twilight several moments to really understand why this was.
“So, Princess Celestia decided to give us one more errand to run. I guess that’s fine, we’re probably all used to it by now. But this time, she’s neglected to ask us herself, and instead just gave some… some stranger the okay to break into our homes and take us away against our will. Am I getting this right?”
YES.
Spike shifted uneasily.
“Maybe you’re overreacting a little, Twi—“
“You think so? So it’s okay for the Princess to just presume that we’re willing to do whatever she wants and plan accordingly, with no regard for our personal lives? What gives her the right?”
SHE IS ROYALTY. I IMAGINE SHE’S QUITE BUSY.
There was a period of silence. Twilight had lost herself in thoughts of her perceived betrayal, and Spike searched desperately for a perspective that would paint the situation in a positive light. After a good thirty seconds of this, their receptionist typed out a new message.
VERY WELL. WE DID NOT REALIZE THESE CIRCUMSTANCES WOULD PROVE SO DISTRESSING TO YOU. YOU HAVE OUR APOLOGY. I CAN EXPLAIN YOUR CONCERNS TO THE SPIRIT, IF YOU WISH. I’M SURE HE WILL UNDERSTAND, AND YOU WILL BE RETURNED TO YOUR HOMES. WE WILL LOCATE SOMEONE MORE WILLING TO CARRY OUT OUR WORK.
Twilight looked at Spike. He looked worried, likely about her. The invisible typist seemed mature enough, sympathetic. This, in turn, made her concerns seem juvenile by comparison. She felt like she’d raised a fuss over nothing, even as her practical mind was screaming not to let this stand. In spite of the Princess’ lack of consideration for the desires of her and her friends, Twilight was not eager to disappoint. Maybe it would be best to do what this Sheol asked and then discuss these issues with the Princess once they’d gotten back home, like rational equines. Maybe…
WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS, MY LADY?
“I won’t make a decision like this on my own. I’ll discuss it with the others when I run into them.”
UNDERSTOOD. IF THAT’S THE CASE, PERHAPS WE SHOULD DISCUSS WHAT IT IS THAT MY MASTER WANTS FROM YOU, IN THE EVENT THAT YOU DECIDE TO ASSIST US.
“I guess that’s reasonable.”
Then she remembered Spike.
“Ah, before you start, could you tell us if the water in the coolers out there is safe to drink?”
NOT A SINGLE ORGANISM LIVES IN OUR WATER.
“Does that mean it’s toxic?”
I ONLY MEANT THAT THIS IS LIKELY THE PUREST WATER YOU’LL COME ACROSS.
“Oh… good.”