//------------------------------// // Daring Do and the Cyber Spirits (a) // Story: The Majestic Tale (of a Mad-Pony in a Box) // by R5h //------------------------------// It was a good thing Twilight Sparkle had the library's window open, because Rainbow Dash wouldn't have stopped even if it were closed. She dove through the open window and stopped just short of both the wood floor and Twilight herself. “Twilight!” Rainbow Dash yelled. “Mm-hmm?” Twilight mumbled, face-deep in a book. Rainbow Dash wondered if this was a bad time to try to speak to her, then decided that wondering was stupid and stopped. “Twilight, you've gotta see this! They've got this new thing at the bowling alley, it's called a, whatsit, an arcade game!” She tried to see what Twilight was reading, but Twilight kept moving to deny her access. All Rainbow Dash could make out was what looked like very difficult magic, and one phrase which read in part '—for making a container hold more than it naturally ought—'. “Yeah?” Twilight replied. “Yeah! And guess what—it's a Daring Do game! Daring Do and the Serpents of Sakat! Based off the book and everything! You can control Daring Do! How cool is that!” “That's great.” “It is! Come on, before the line gets too long!” Rainbow dashed out the open window, then realized what had just happened. “Are you even listening?” she yelled, swooping back in to grab Twilight and pry her away from her book. “Daring Do! Arcade game! Come on!” “Rainbow Dash!” Twilight cried, waving her forelegs frantically in the direction of the book even as her hind legs were pulled out her door and onto the street. It had taken Twilight a minute or two to really get what Rainbow Dash was telling her, but once she did, she got excited—though more confused. What's an 'arcade game'? she wondered, now walking under her own steam instead of being dragged. How are you supposed to control Daring Do? However, her excitement was dwarfed by that of Rainbow Dash, who urged her to speed up every minute, and who constantly flew up into the sky to see who else had heard about the Serpents of Sakat. As for her confusion, that was nowhere to be found in her friend: Dash seemed to know exactly what an arcade game was, however incapable she was of explaining it to Twilight whenever she asked. “Trust me, you gotta see this for yourself!” was her constant refrain. Then, she would often add, “If we even get in before it closes...” and soar into the air to look for crowds. When Twilight reached the bowling alley, she understood her friend's anxiety. There was a line dozens of ponies long—the longest she had ever seen here—to get into the building. “We'll never get in!” Twilight groaned, getting at the back of the line. Rainbow Dash alighted just behind her. “You sure about that?” she said with a grin. Just then, Twilight heard a distant cry of dismay from within the alley—almost like a scream of pain, in fact. A few seconds later, the line moved one place forward. Twilight's eyes widened. "What was that?" “Oh, don't worry about it—someone just lost, is all. So do you see what I mean?” Dash said. “Trust me, we'll be in in twenty minutes, tops. I was only worried because I thought there’d be more ponies here.” Indeed, the line continued to move at a rapid pace: whatever the 'arcade game' was, it didn't last for very long per pony. Twilight kept trying to figure out what it might be, only to have her suppositions interrupted by Dash's urging of “Move up, Twilight!” It took perhaps a little over twenty minutes, but she finally made it to the front of the line, and stood in a corner of the bowling alley. The building was remarkably empty: on a brisk Friday afternoon like this, Twilight might have expected the lanes to be full of bowlers. However, only one or two ponies were working the pins. It seemed that all attention was on the elusive 'arcade game'. Mr. Kingpin, the building's owner, stood before her and waved her in. “First time playing?” he asked her. When she nodded, he continued: “Good luck. Pay at the box, it'll tell you how to play. And try not to get too addicted.” “Addicted?” she asked. “Your friend there,” Kingpin said, jerking his head at Rainbow Dash, “got to play three times before the majority of the line got in. She's practically sold her soul to it by now... metaphorically speaking.” “I'll, uh, try not to go that far,” Twilight said, smiling with renewed confusion. She walked past Mr. Kingpin, around a corner, and got her first sight of the so-far-indescribable 'arcade game'. Daring Do and the Serpents of Sakat, it read along the top of the box. Below that, set a good foot or so into the box, was a pane of glass. It displayed the book's cover with great faithfulness: there was Daring Do, one wing bound to her side over her green shirt and compass rose cutie mark; her gray tail barely out of the jaws of the massive feathered serpent Quetzalcoatl; one hoof clutching her pith helmet, the other holding the fabled Vision Serpent. There was, however, one crucial difference: the image seemed to be composed of hundreds of tiny squares of color. Some sort of projector? Twilight wondered, noticing that the screen was emitting light. What was more, the words INSERT ONE BIT TO BEGIN scrolled along the bottom of the screen. Beneath the screen, on a downward-slanted piece of wood, were an outward-pointed stick on the left and two large buttons on the right. The stick had what looked like the mold of a hoof on the top, and arrows pointing up, down, left, and right from it. The buttons were labeled Jump and Duck. Twilight inserted one bit into a little slot beneath the controls. Immediately, the image on the screen disappeared, replaced by an all-black background with a little block-drawing of Daring Do's face next to the number two. Nary a second later, the screen changed again, and Twilight's eyes widened. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, for the game was showing her a beautifully rendered image of a vast desert. Pyramids set against the blue sky dotted the background, and what seemed like miles of sand lay in the foreground. A simple electronic tune played over the whole experience. It was so entrancing that Twilight barely saw the small, grayish representation of Daring Do—until a tiny strand of green snake had slithered its way across the screen and bitten her. Daring Do crumpled to the ground. “What?” Twilight exclaimed, as the black screen reappeared, this time with a number one. “But I—but—that's not fair!” She gritted her teeth, then placed her hooves on the controls as the desert screen reappeared. “Okay,” she murmured, moving her character around a bit. She could make Daring Do go left and right, duck, and jump, but moving up and down didn't seem to work yet. And there was the snake! She waited until it was almost upon her, then jumped over it. The snake proceeded harmlessly to the left and off the screen. “Yes!” she said, taking her hoof off the joystick to pump it—only to watch Daring Do sink into a patch of quicksand that she hadn't noticed. “No!” she yelled, as the black screen told her she had no further lives left. “Okay... gotta jump over the snake, avoid the quicksand... snake! Got away from it, that's good—more quicksand, gotta jump over all that... wow, whoever made this did a really nice job drawing this bridge—OH, COME ON!” For the well-drawn bridge had just sagged under Daring Do's weight, then plummeted into an endless pit below, taking the currently flightless pegasus with it. GAME OVER, read the screen. “Are you kidding me?” she yelled. “Yeah, it does that.” She looked up from the game to see Rainbow Dash behind her, wearing a smile that Twilight wanted to wipe off her face. “But did you see that?” Twilight stammered. “It was completely unfair—urgh!” “Maybe it's just not for eggheads.” Rainbow Dash patted her on the head and tried to get in front of the machine, but Twilight resisted her movement. “Come on, it's my turn now,” Dash insisted. “No! I want another try!” “I bet the stallion at the door told you it was addicting, huh?” Rainbow Dash tapped her own chin a few times, then continued: “Look, it's my turn whether you like it or not, but you can watch. Okay?” “Okay....” With more effort than she might have imagined necessary, Twilight conceded, and stepped away from the machine. “And don't talk!” Rainbow Dash said, sliding her own bit into the machine. Instead of placing her hooves on the controls, she kept them on the floor and brought her wings forward, using their feathers to deftly manipulate the controls. “Watch out for the quick—” “No talking,” Rainbow Dash interjected, not looking up from her game. Twilight saw in her face a level of concentration usually reserved for flight practice. It was paying off, too: within a minute she was past the rickety bridge and into a new area, with a background patterned to look like a jungle. There were more snakes, and thanks to the greener background Twilight could hardly see them—but Rainbow Dash saw them all, and easily dodged each one. Using those up and down buttons that Twilight had found so useless earlier, she climbed up ladders beneath a waterfall that spewed forceful streams of water. Twilight assumed these would knock Rainbow Dash down if she ever touched them, but she did not: with practiced ease she avoided them and continued on. By this point Twilight was not the only pony watching. The next pony in line had come to complain about not getting his turn, only to be brushed off by Rainbow Dash saying, “You can watch too if you want.” He did, and so did the next pony, and the next, until there was a veritable crowd in the tiny space behind the arcade machine, with ponies jostling for the ability to see. Twilight had some difficulty keeping them away from Rainbow Dash, but Dash didn't notice: she kept going, and going, and going—until a wayward eagle flew into her and she died. Her character died, Twilight had to remind herself. Of course it's not actually Rainbow Dash in the game. Not that this fact stopped her or the crowd from groaning in despair, as the black screen showed Rainbow Dash to only have—four lives left? “Four lives?” exclaimed the pony who was next in line. “You started with two!” “Yeah, I picked up some extras along the way,” Rainbow Dash replied in a rather smug tone. “This stinks!” said the pony, as Rainbow Dash began yet again. “We're never gonna get to play!” “Pretty much!” she said. A bit of a clamor ensued, as Rainbow Dash continued on her winning streak. “All right, calm down, calm down!” Mr. Kingpin came back into the little corner, waving at the crowd. “It doesn't matter who's playing or who isn't playing—we're closing! Everybody out!” “What?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, as Kingpin flicked a switch behind the machine. The screen immediately went dark. “You can't do that! I was nearly at the end!” “Sorry, kid,” he said, mustache bristling with annoyance. “But it's already ten past six, and that's when we usually close for the night anyway on weekdays! Now all of you, scram! You can come back tomorrow.” With many groans the crowd departed. Rainbow Dash was the last to leave, and she did so slowly, with many a mournful look at the Serpents of Sakat, until Mr. Kingpin shouted, “I don't have all day!” Only then did she leave the building, letting Kingpin lock the doors and depart. “It's okay, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said as Rainbow followed her along the twilit streets. “You'll just get there early tomorrow, and you'll be able to play again!” “No, I was really on a roll!” Rainbow Dash protested. “I need to get back there today!” “Except, as you know, you can't.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “I mean, Mr. Kingpin's locked it up for the day, and you can hardly go breaking in there after dark, right?” After a few seconds, she realized that Rainbow Dash hadn't responded. “You can't, right?” “Uhhh... course not.” Rainbow Dash's eyes shifted away from Twilight's face and to the ground below. “Rainbow Dash!” Twilight stopped in front of Rainbow Dash to stop her from moving. “Promise me you won't break into the bowling alley after dark!” “I promise,” Dash said, after some hesitation. “Pinkie Promise?” Twilight glared at Rainbow Dash. She mightn't have gone this far—the Pinkie Promise was the most sacred bond known to her circle of friends, a bond with consequences most dire if broken—but she really didn't want Rainbow committing a crime over an arcade game. It was a very real concern, especially where Daring Do was involved: Twilight distinctly remembered the fracas that had erupted after Rainbow Dash had snuck into the hospital to 'borrow' one of the books. Rainbow Dash sighed. “Cross my heart and hope to fly—” she drew a hoof across the front of her barrel “—stack a cupcake in my eye.” She closed one eye and planted her hoof on the eyelid. “Stick a cupcake.” “Yeah, that's what I said.” After a few seconds, Twilight smiled. “Good. Would you like to come over to the library? I should have the new Daring Do there—if the Doctor hasn't taken it, that is.” “The Doctor?” Rainbow Dash's eyebrows flew up her face. “He's into Daring Do too?” “He says it reminds him of Indiana Jones, whatever that means... anyway, we were researching to build his time machine, and he found the first one, and one thing led to another!” Twilight grinned, remembering how surprised she'd been to see a grown stallion so enamored with the series. “Even if he does have it, he won't have it for long—he's an incredibly quick reader.” “Actually,” Rainbow Dash replied, “I think I'm gonna get going now. Been cooped up all day in the alley—I've gotta practice those flying moves! See ya later!” And without waiting for Twilight to reply, she leaped into the air and was quickly too high to see. Twilight rolled her eyes and continued home. There was no worry in her mind that Rainbow Dash might try to break into the bowling alley. She'd Pinkie Promised, after all, and everyone knew that Pinkie Promises couldn't be broken. Genius, Rainbow Dash thought, diving down to the bowling alley just before ten o'clock that night. STACK a cupcake in my eye—that was genius! The way she saw it, since she'd failed to correctly recite the Pinkie Promise, she was not bound by it. It didn't take her very long to find a point of entry: Mr. Kingpin may have locked the doors, but he'd forgotten about the windows. Typical earth pony thinking. Always forgetting about wings! She kicked the window's frame with her hoof, causing it to bounce back and open a crack. It was enough for her to slip her wings into the gap, pull the window entirely open, and dive through. “Piece of cake!” she whispered, pumping her hoof in the air. There was enough moonlight filtering into the dark room for her to easily locate the arcade machine. She fumbled behind the machine until her hoof caught on a small protrusion she recognized as the switch. With a little push the screen flickered on, displaying the title image. Rainbow Dash pushed a bit into the machine, and the game began. Perhaps it was the utter silence, or the lack of ponies to jostle her; perhaps it was her mindset, or the hours of practice she'd had. Whatever the reason, Rainbow Dash was breezing her way through the levels. The waterfall was no trouble, nor were any of the jungle vines, nor the various pitfalls or monsters—even the bosses were like child's play. “Too easy!” she said, smacking the side of the machine. “Give me a real challenge!” As if in response, the screen went dark. Rainbow Dash froze, wondering if she'd broken it with her strike, and how she'd explain it to Mr. Kingpin—or how far away she'd want to be from it before he found out. Then her eyes narrowed, for words appeared blinking on the screen: PREPARE FOR AN ALL-NEW GAMEPLAY EXPERIENCE “What the hay—” Rainbow Dash began, leaning toward the screen—and then trying very hard to lean away as an incredible wind appeared at her back, pushing her toward the machine. The words onscreen swirled into a sort of vortex. It's pulling me in! It was a ridiculous thought, but as her wings and legs failed to hold her back, and her body flew at the screen, it was the only possibility. “Help meeeeee....” Her voice quickly faded into an electronic whine. The title screen reappeared, leaving no trace of Rainbow Dash. The Majestic Tale (of a Mad-Pony in a Box) S1E4: Daring Do and the Cyber Spirits Written by R5h Twilight awoke early the next day to the sound of knocking. “Spike, can you get that?” she mumbled, and opened her eyes to quite a bit more sunlight than she'd expected. She groaned. I stayed up too late last night thinking about that arcade game.... As she thought of it once more, the machine seemed to dance before her mind's eye—tantalizing her, urging her to have another go. And it's probably Rainbow Dash at the door, urging me to do just that. Spike was too busy snoring to be roused from his bed, so Twilight groaned and dragged herself down the steps to the front door. When she opened it, her bleary eyes saw not Rainbow Dash, but the brown form of the Doctor. “G'morning!” he said in a voice far more chipper, Twilight thought, than any voice had the right to be at this unholy hour. He held out a book, which Twilight recognized as the latest Daring Do novel: Daring Do and the Terror of the Jungle. “Finished it last night. It was brilliant! Well, I say brilliant—terrible pulp in a lot of ways, and yet very engaging. McDonalds for the soul, if you will; awful junk food, but you can't get enough of it. Da-da-da da-da!” he sang. “Morning to you too,” Twilight finally said, magically fumbling with the book, then reshelving it in its proper location. “So, shall we get going, then?” he asked. “What?” It took Twilight far too long to realize what he was talking about. “Oh right! Right, let me just get my things....” The previous afternoon's experience had driven their appointment completely from her mind. At least twice a week, for the last few months—since the Doctor's auspicious arrival in Ponyville—Twilight had been his assistant in building the TARDIS. Growing the TARDIS, she reminded herself—but at this stage of the process it was difficult to distinguish one process from the other. The Doctor hardly helped: he would alternately call the box-to-be a 'machine', a 'plant', a 'multi-dimensional space-time event', and many an extra description besides. It was also, apparently, female—not in the same way as a sailing ship, either. Weird. Twilight followed the Doctor through Ponyville to the mid-secret facility they were using as the TARDIS growing area—actually, one of Sweet Apple Acres' empty warehouses which Applejack was letting them use. It wasn't as if ponies went there anyway; a simple wooden 'Keep Out' sign over the door was the only precaution required. “Hold on,” the Doctor cautioned as they approached. Twilight paused, feeling as always the reason for his hesitation. The large wooden door may have been closed, but in her mind she felt the unfinished TARDIS growing within—and it was exhilarating and painful all at once, like an underground current of magma running through her head. The Doctor placed a hoof upon her forehead and closed his eyes. All emotion left his face, save the ghost of a smile on his lips. She closed her eyes as well, feeling his serenity radiate through his hoof and into her mind, calming the psychic flow from the TARDIS and removing its pain. “Okay?” he asked as she opened her eyes. At her nod, he said, “Safe to go in, then,” and opened the door. “Morning, Doctor! Morning, Twilight!” Twilight looked up to see Derpy Hooves, the Doctor's other assistant, perched on the rafters. Displaying none of her usual clumsiness, she dove down to their level and alighted upon the hay, directly in front of the TARDIS in progress. “Good morning, Derpy,” the Doctor and Twilight chorused. “We should probably pick up where we left off, right?” Derpy picked up a tool that looked almost like a wrench, but with a sort of organic tip—something of the Doctor's design. She turned away from them and began twirling it between the feathers of her wings, reveling in her coordination. “She's still got a mostly broken chameleon circuit, isn't that what you said? Right now she'd only transform into the one thing, the box?” “No, that's okay. It's supposed to be like that,” the Doctor said. “Really?” Derpy shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Her attention focused on the mass of glowing, swirling energies before them. Twilight still found it difficult to believe that this incredible conflagration of unstable forms could ever become the simple blue box she remembered. Filigrees of gold, blue, and every other color in the rainbow danced around each other in ways that, if one truly thought about it, defied physics and common reason. Even with the Doctor's psychic protection, Twilight never felt comfortable looking directly at it; she didn't even like walking too close. It strained her mind and her eyes as they tried to comprehend several dimensions too many. Derpy, on the other hoof, seemed completely comfortable getting near it without any of the Doctor's help. In fact, she was generally more comfortable with all the alien technology than Twilight. Whereas Twilight was reading overtime and working extra hard with the Doctor to grasp the basic concepts involved with the TARDIS, Derpy seemed to get them upon the first explanation, if not earlier. And Twilight found, to her disappointment, that it did irk her to be the number-two student. How childish is that? She did her best to sublimate these feelings into studying harder, but it wasn't always easy. “You never did explain why she doesn't need the psychic shielding,” she muttered to the Doctor, with perhaps a bit more vehemence than was necessary. “I'd tell you if I knew, but I don't,” he said, still looking at the TARDIS itself instead of Twilight. “Actually, Derpy, I was thinking that it's finally time to get to work on the dimensional transcendence.” “The bigger-on-the-inside-ness. Got it!” Derpy grinned, then threw her almost-wrench into the air with one wing and caught it with her mouth. “Okay, then...” Twilight said. “How do we start?” “With you, Twilight. You see....” He paused, collecting his thoughts, then continued. “It is rather advanced magic, but it is possible to make a space larger on the inside than it ought to be. Isn't that so?” “Just like we studied,” Twilight affirmed, stifling a yawn. “Well, go on then. Give it a try.” When Twilight did nothing, the Doctor nodded his head at the TARDIS. “Make her bigger on the inside.” Twilight looked at the twisting lines of energy making up the TARDIS, then back at the Doctor's expectant face. “You're kidding, right?” she said. “Not at all.” “But... but she doesn't have an inside. Or an outside!” Twilight protested. “She's—the TARDIS is just sort of conceptual right now—what am I supposed to do with that?” “Imagine an egg,” Derpy cut in. The Doctor's mouth stayed open for a moment more, before it closed as he considered this idea. “You're looking at the outside now, and the real TARDIS is on the inside. Try that.” The Doctor made a sort of bemused pout, as though both dubious of and impressed with Derpy's image. “Sure,” Twilight grumbled. “Great idea, Derpy—that totally looks like an egg.” However, after a few seconds Twilight couldn't come up with any better ideas. “Oh, all right. Thinking of an egg...” She screwed up her eyes in concentration, and focused her magic on the TARDIS—but it kept twisting out of her grasp like a greased snake. No, it's an egg. An egg, an egg, an egg... Indeed, it helped. She imagined an eggshell around the TARDIS, which kept her from having to focus on something she could hardly comprehend, and poured her magic into the shell. She felt the magic leaving her like water from a reservoir, draining with an almighty force through her horn until she was teetering on her hooves and her stomach felt weak. She opened her eyes and just managed not to fall over. “Well done, Twilight!” the Doctor crowed, supporting her shaky frame. He pointed at the TARDIS, and Twilight saw that the swirl of energies was changing; now it ordered itself into coils that spun through the center, and came back out again fuller and fuller—and yet never seemed to grow, in the end. “You've planted the seed. See? She can do the best part of the work herself now.” “That's... that's great!” Twilight managed, coughing slightly. She took a deep breath before continuing. Her strength was coming back to her after the brief exertion, but it would take a few minutes at least. “So is there anything else to do today?” The Doctor shrugged. “Wait and see, mostly. For now, we can leave the TARDIS to her own devices.” He smiled warmly. “Look at her go! Or actually, on second thought, don't. Things are probably going to get rather weird in here—we probably ought to clear out. You too, Derpy.” “Can't I stay and watch?” Derpy said, her face falling. “Better not to.” Derpy sighed, and followed the Doctor and Twilight out the door, still twirling the wrench with her wings. “All right, but I like it in there tebber.” As the Doctor closed the door, she tossed the wrench into the air, but futzed up catching it; it landed on her head. “Ow!” Twilight couldn't help herself: she giggled even as she picked up the wrench with her own magic. The Doctor cast a lingering glance at Derpy, then looked ahead and continued forward. “I was thinking we could grab an early lunch at Chez Santhenum, what do you think?” “Sounds good,” Twilight said, somewhat absentmindedly. In the absence of the TARDIS, another thought had returned to her mind: that wonderful arcade machine, and how she'd probably be able to keep going if she remembered not to stand too long on the rickety bridge. She'd watched Rainbow Dash keep playing for hours—she knew the layout. Why shouldn't she be able to progress? “Twilight?” Derpy tapped her on the shoulder with one wing. “The Doctor was asking what you thought you eated to want... you know what I mean.” She glowered at thin air. “Uh, I usually go for the daffodil and daisy sandwich,” she said, wrenching her mind back to the present. What's with me? It's just a silly arcade game. A whole lot of fun, but silly. “I'll get two,” the Doctor declared. Twilight raised her eyebrow at his declaration of hunger. “What? Time Lords have different nutritional needs, and besides that I gave you a strong dose of psychic shielding today. I'm so hungry I could eat a... never mind.” “A what?” Derpy asked. “I said never mind.” “But seriously—” “Really, you don't wanna know.” They arrived at Chez Santhenum and, owing to the earliness of the day, easily found a table outside—all the better to enjoy the end-of-summer air. As they sat there, Twilight looked around at the trees whose leaves, she knew, would soon be dropping off. “So, Doctor,” Derpy said as they waited to order, “what should we expect the next time we look at the TARDIS?” “Well, if I had to guess—and I apparently do—I'd say it won't be safe to go in there for a few hours. Right now it's warping the space around it, gathering it inside of itself—forming a definite inside and outside, in fact. I can guarantee that the next time we see it, it'll make more sense to look at. I might not even need to psychically protect you, Twilight.” Twilight tried to respond, but before she'd opened her mouth Derpy was already continuing. “Can we expect the chamenial, the chameleon circuit to be in effect?” “That depends on how decent a job we did, doesn't it?” The Doctor shrugged. “At best, I'd expect it to be a rough box shape. It might even have a door already, if we're really lucky. If we haven't done such a good job, well, you can expect a sort of sphere.” “And what if we went in? Would it be safe, or would the dimensional forces tear us apart?” Derpy smiled, looking around at the other patrons, who either couldn't hear her or were choosing to ignore what must have sounded like nonsense. “The latter, I'm afraid. Definitely not safe to enter inside: too absurd.” “When are we going to start on the engines themselves?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk about that now? Putting the cart a little bit before the horse, aren't you?” “But I do want to talk about it, because I'm having so much trouble understanding how they work,” Derpy proclaimed. “I mean, the TARDIS flies by exiting the physical universe and entering purely conceptual space?” “Yes, usually—” “But how do the engines do that? Do they bend space-time around them, forming tears in the fabric and slipping through?” “Precisely. Are you sure you're having trouble?” the Doctor asked, his eyes narrowing. “Well, it's always sure to be good.” Derpy smiled, though it seemed more like a smirk to Twilight's eyes. “I mean, I'd hate not understanding how the TARDIS worked.” Was that directed at me? Twilight thought. Nah, she wouldn't be doing that. Derpy probably doesn't realize how I'm feeling right now. She's Derpy, after all. Yet the suspicion remained, even though the conversation was interrupted by their waiter appearing. The three of them quickly made their orders, with Twilight and the Doctor choosing what they'd discussed earlier; Derpy opted for just a side order of hayfries. “Anyway, like you said,” she continued, “it probably doesn't matter, since we won't be working on that next, will we? We need to figure out the source power—the source of power.” “Indeed we do,” the Doctor replied. “Can I say something?” Twilight tried to say—but once again, Derpy was talking over her. “I was thinking about that last night, and we should probably use the magic of the princesses. I mean, you told me a while ago how your old TARDIS was powered by energy from a collapsing star, but where are we gonna find one of those? I mean, Celestia's probably not going to let us use hers, right?” She chuckled: Twilight and the Doctor did not. An awkward silence ensued. After a few seconds, Twilight seized her chance and spoke, doing her best not to betray her annoyance at Derpy's words. “I think Derpy may be on to something. The princesses' magic is incredibly strong; properly focused, it should be enough to warp the space time continuum. Isn't that right?” she asked the Doctor. After a few seconds' pondering, he smiled and nodded. Twilight felt a faint note of pride in her chest. “Just so long as they know what they're doing,” Derpy added. “I wouldn't want someone working on the TARDIS who doesn't know what they're doing.” She smiled happily. Twilight had had enough. She planted both hooves on the table and faced Derpy. “All right. What are you trying to imply?” Derpy's face became as dumb and innocent as Twilight had ever seen it. “What do you mean?” she drawled. She is winding me up! The nerve of the little... “I mean,” Twilight continued, looking Derpy right in the mismatched eyes, “that you've spent this whole time... badgering me about how I'm not as good with the TARDIS as you. Don't pretend you haven't!” “Then don't call me stupid.” The dumb expression fell away from Derpy's face, leaving an angry scowl in its wake. Twilight froze, just as her tirade was about to continue. When did I call her stupid? She did her best to think back, going through her recent conversations, until she finally realized what Derpy meant. “Oh dear Celestia. This is about the egg thing, isn't it!” Derpy snorted, which Twilight took as an affirmation. “You thought I was trying to—I was tired and cranky!” she exclaimed. “I wasn't calling you stupid!” “No, of course you weren't calling me stupid—I just don't have any good ideas, that's all.” “Derpy.” The tone of the Doctor's voice made it unmistakable that this word was a command. Derpy obeyed immediately, shrinking back and becoming silent. She looked as if she'd been struck. Their food arrived at that moment. Twilight thanked the waiter, then promptly bit into her sandwich. She chewed it as long as she could manage, until the flowers were a goopy, unappetizing mess in her mouth—not to savor the sandwich, but so that she could avoid talking as long as possible. The Doctor and Derpy seemed to have the same idea, and for several minutes more the three of them munched in silence. As she ate, Twilight tried to reconcile the Derpy she'd known for the last few months with the one she'd just had a petty argument with. Derpy's usually so... what's the word... easygoing? But maybe that's not quite right—come to think of it, she realized, I don't think I've ever even come close to calling her stupid before. Or maybe I did? Oh Celestia, what if I've been accidentally calling her stupid this whole time and not realizing it? No, this is silly, she insisted to herself, forcing herself to calm down before she choked on her food. If I've been doing that, she can tell me like a normal pony. It's only fair. The three of them continued to avoid speaking, but unfortunately for Twilight a sandwich could only last so long. Eventually she finished it, and desperately cast her mind about for a less awkward source of discussion. Come on, there's got to be something... A tap on the shoulder interrupted her search. “Um... Twilight?” came Fluttershy's voice from behind her. “Fluttershy!” Twilight turned around, grateful beyond words for the sudden arrival of her friend, and saw Fluttershy looking worried. Not that this was unusual for Fluttershy, but suddenly Twilight's relief seemed a bit misplaced. “What's wrong?” she asked. “I was just wondering if you've seen Rainbow Dash. Oh, hi, Doctor. And Derpy.” She gave the two of them an awkward smile before her attention returned to Twilight. “I mean, it's probably nothing, but Rainbow Dash was going to bring Tank over to my house because I thought he might have a little bit of shell rot, and I wanted to make sure, and... well, she was supposed to bring him an hour ago,” she finished with a frown. Twilight grew a frown to match it. “That's odd. She couldn't be playing that arcade game, could she? I mean, she's been crazy about it, but not that crazy...” “No, I checked there first,” Fluttershy said. “Mr. Kingpin says she hasn't been there all day.” “Hold on.” Suddenly, all traces of awkwardness disappeared from the Doctor. He leaned forward with no small amount of concern. “Did you say arcade game?” “Oh, did you never hear about it?" Twilight asked. "It's new at the bowling alley. You control Daring Do, and take her past a series of obstacles... it's really difficult. I was actually hoping to play it after we were done with the TARDIS....” And once again she felt the urge to go and play. Just one more game, she thought. Then: Wow. I'm really crazy about it too, aren't I. Whatever the Doctor was thinking, though, it had nothing to do with playing. “No, this is very wrong,” he murmured. “Um... what do you mean?” Fluttershy asked. “No, your technology's been progressing pretty quickly, but you're still at, what? Early to mid 20th century levels?” The Doctor scratched his chin. “What with radios, and railways, and airships... yeah, a few standouts, like Vinyl's DJ equipment, but this is different. This is something you ponies definitely shouldn't have.” “20th century levels? Shouldn't have?” As was often the case, Twilight hardly understood what the Doctor was saying. “Hey, where are you going?” For he had stood up and was striding away from Chez Santhenum. “We're going to the bowling alley,” he declared. “Fluttershy just told you, Rainbow Dash isn't there,” Twilight protested, even as she followed him. “And we should be looking for her first.” Rainbow Dash would never be late for something she agreed to do for a friend. Isn't that more important than some crazy theories about a dumb game? Fluttershy followed her, and after some hesitation, so did Derpy. “Something tells me we'll be doing both.” This comment struck Twilight as needlessly ominous. I mean, Rainbow Dash can't be at the bowling alley, or Mr. Kingpin would have seen her. If she were there, where would she be? Rainbow Dash tumbled hard onto the sand, and one thing occurred to her: “Hot! Hot! Hot!” She jumped into the air, shaking as hard as she could to get the blazing sand off her body. It was still like a furnace in the air, and she felt the sweat already flowing, but at least she wasn't actively getting burned. Now her mind could return to the most important thing: that apparently, that freaky game had just sucked her in. She looked around with no small amount of trepidation. “If I'm dreaming, this would be a really good time to wake up,” she mumbled, and smacked herself several times across the face. No luck there. She did seem to be properly in the game after all. Looking around, she recognized the beginning of the first level. There was the sand, stretching endlessly into the distance: there were the pyramids, and the blinding blue sky; and there, as she noticed with a start, was the first snake. It slithered under her hooves and through the disturbed patch of sand she'd made. Rainbow Dash gulped. If I hadn't gotten up so quickly... “Hello?” she called, turning around. “Hello?” No response. “ANYONE!” Please don't let me be all alone in here, forever. Rainbow Dash might have sunk to the ground in terror, except that as she continued to turn, she saw something very unexpected. In the opposite direction from the pyramids, floating in the sky, was a gargantuan picture of something it took Rainbow Dash a moment to recognize. Once she did, her mouth dropped in shock: it was the cover of Daring Do and the Serpents of Sakat, the same image that appeared at the beginning of the game—only in reverse. Even the words INSERT ONE BIT TO BEGIN were there, scrolling backwards along the bottom. “It's the back of the screen!” Rainbow Dash vocalized. She flew up to the screen and knocked on it as hard as she could. “Hello? Can anyone hear me? I'm trapped in here!” When nothing happened, she flew back a few meters, then rammed the screen with her shoulder. She repeated this process several times, and while the bruise on her shoulder was growing quickly, the screen didn't even have a mark on it. She slumped against it in defeat. “Hello?” Rainbow Dash's head whipped around at the faint sound. “Who's there?” Sounds like it's coming from over... there! Rainbow flew off in the direction of the call, soaring over and around the game's obstacles with ease. Over the quicksand, across the bridge, and into the jungle level, where the canopy forced her to fly just above the ground— A pony came from behind a bush in front of her, leaving Rainbow Dash no time to stop. She struck the newcomer like a bowling ball, knocking both of them to the jungle floor. “Watch where the hay you're going!” the other pony yelled, as Rainbow Dash dragged herself to her feet and dusted herself off. She turned to the other pony and began to say, “Watch where the hay you're....” The words died on her lips, and for several seconds she was unable to speak. Finally, she managed to squeak out, “Daring Do!” “You expecting someone else?” she said. It was her in every detail—the pith helmet, the dusty gray mane, the pink eyes, the green vest, the tan coat with its compass rose cutie mark. There was even a bandage wrapped around one of her wings, which she was rubbing in some discomfort. Rainbow Dash might have noticed that she'd struck Daring Do there, but she had other things on her mind. Namely: “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh! It's you! It's actually, really you! Oh my gosh I'm your biggest fan, I've read all your books ten times, except the newest one because it just came out but I'm gonna read it I swear! I've even got a costume of you in my house, it's really good—but don't tell Twilight, I'd never live it down if she found out I was such a huge egghead—but oh my gosh it is you! You're—you're awesome!” “Always nice to feel appreciated.” Daring Do grimaced. “But what makes you think it is me?” “Well, it looks like you. It sounds like you—well, sort of, I mean your voice always sounded a bit higher in my head when I was reading—but of course it's you! What are you talking about?” “Look, kid, I hate to let you down and all, seeing as how you're her 'biggest fan', but...” Daring Do sighed and scratched her head. “I'm not really Daring Do.” Rainbow's eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke?” “Oh, sure, I look like her... and I am close. Love an awesome adventure... not that you get any of those around here....” She grunted. “But no joke—I've known, ever since this game was turned on, that I'm not the real Daring Do.” “Hold on just a second—how the hay do you know you're in an arcade game?” Rainbow Dash asked, her mind still reeling in confusion. Daring Do—as Dash stubbornly kept thinking of her—rolled her eyes, and pointed up and to the side. “Well, if I'm not in a video game, then that over there wouldn't make a whole lot of sense, would it?” Rainbow Dash looked where she was pointing and saw, through the thin cover of the jungle, the massive title screen floating in front of the first level. “Course, it's not just that,” Daring continued. “I know it instinctively, deep down in my bones... as if I had bones,” she added, poking what would be her ribcage. “I'm nothing more than a blob of code. Not the real Daring Do.” “You look real to me,” Rainbow Dash protested. Daring snorted. “As if I needed more evidence that you're not from here. Just because this all looks real, does that mean it is?” She picked up some sand and tossed it in the air; it fell on Rainbow Dash, coating her mane and back. Rainbow Dash blew the sand out of her face, then decided to try another tack. “Just what do you mean, 'the real Daring Do', anyway?” “Dear Celestia, you're slow.” Daring walked away and sagged against a tree. “You'd better stay with me or you won't last five minutes either.... I mean the Daring Do from the books, the one I'm based on. The one who travels through incredible temples to find invaluable treasures—under her own steam. Me, I get controlled by a succession of morons, half of whom don't even know to jump over the first snake.” She gritted her teeth. “Which shouldn't even kill me, but there you go. Game design. Whatcha gonna do?” “Um, the books aren't any more real than any of this.” Daring Do narrowed her eyes. “What did you say?” “They're just novels. That Daring Do isn't real either.” Daring paused for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Probably should have expected that. Nobody here but us storybook characters, then.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Uh, you're the fictional one. I'm real.” “Not anymore.” “The hay do you mean?” Daring Do started walking away. “Hey, don't leave me hanging like that!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “Where do you think you're going?” “Home.” “You have a house here? I've never seen it in the game.” “That's because it's not programmed. I built it on my first night off. Here's a question for you, though: Where do you think you're going? Your home? I seriously doubt it.” “Wait, you mean I'm stuck?” Rainbow Dash did her best not to panic, and reverted to her usual state of cockiness. “How do you know I can't get out, huh?” “None of the others have so far.” Daring Do kept walking away, and it took Rainbow Dash a moment to figure out what exactly she'd been saying. “None of the others have...” she muttered, then stopped as the meaning hit her like a freight train. Her eyes widened, and what little moisture was left in her mouth seemed to vanish. She dove in front of Daring Do to stop her in her tracks. “Hold on. How many ponies besides me are in here?” “So, let's work through this logically,” the Doctor vocalized. “An arcade game shows up in Ponyville, decades ahead of its time. Rainbow Dash—the former Element of Loyalty herself—doesn't just get addicted, she misses an appointment with a friend. And you think there isn't a connection, Twilight?” “She hasn't been to the bowling alley, Doctor. Mr. Kingpin said he hasn't seen her.” “How long did it take you to get in yesterday?” “Uh... twenty minutes,” Twilight replied. “But what's that got to do with anything?” “Hell of a queue for entry. How much money is Mr. Kingpin getting out of this, do you reckon? How many bits an hour?” Still she didn't seem to see what he was getting at. Too innocent, perhaps, the Doctor mused. “Look, I can tell you there's something fishy about that arcade machine, but we won't find out what until we check. For now, ask yourself this: say Rainbow Dash found out. Who'd want her not to blab?” Fluttershy frowned. “You're saying he made her disappear, somehow?” “I wouldn't believe it,” Twilight declared. “Not of anyone in this town.” “Oh, to be young and naïve.” The Doctor sighed. “That was rude, wasn't it... I must be a bit tired myself. The thing is, Twilight, I would. Believe it of him, that is.” “Me too,” Derpy chimed in—somewhat needlessly in the Doctor's opinion. Is she looking for brownie points with me, then? He didn't feel a response was necessary; a moment later, as she shrank back a bit, he wondered if he might have been wrong. “Well, in any case, the line's going to be even longer today,” Twilight said, as the four of them approached a corner. “How long do you want to wait?” “Ugh, waiting.” The Doctor sighed. “Well, I've survived almost three months in little old Equestria—one queue shouldn't be too much of a hard....” They turned the corner, and he saw exactly what he was dealing with. “... ship,” he finished, feeling fairly certain that he looked fairly stupid. It was a truly massive queue. Ponies stood nose to tail down to the end of the street, at which point they began standing nose to tail down the street beyond. “This must be half of Ponyville!” Twilight exclaimed. “We're never going to get in!” “All right, then let's not use the queue.” The Doctor excused himself as he pushed his way through the queue, then started off parallel to it. The others followed close behind it. “What do you mean now?” Twilight asked. “Just watch. Oh, and nod a lot. Try not to get too inventive.” “What?” They walked right past the front of the queue and into the bowling alley, within which a distinct lack of bowling was going on. Every pony in the building was queueing, with the exception of a short stallion with a handlebar mustache who was minding that queue. “Mr. Kingpin, I presume!” the Doctor called. Mr. Kingpin, who had been stacking bits on a small desk at the side of the queue, looked up at them. “Hello,” he replied dubiously. “And you are?” “Oh, Ms. Sparkle here has been telling me all about your marvelous... 'arcade machine', was it? Sorry, arcade game. Certainly a marvel of technology you've got here, as we say, Mr. Kingpin, and I was just wondering if I could take a look?” “No, but you haven't answered my question,” Kingpin said, his mustache exaggerating his frown. “Could you please identify yourselves?” “Well, you've met Ms. Twilight Sparkle here, and this is Ms. Fluttershy, and Ms... ah, Hooves, and they've been telling me all about your game, but me?” The Doctor quickly thought up an alias, choosing something that could explain his hourglass cutie mark. “Dr. Turner. Time Turner, to be precise.” Good old J.K. “I'm here with Marvels of Technology magazine, we do articles about, well, you can guess. Here's my card.” He pulled his psychic paper out of his pocket, thinking of the fictitious magazine and what its card might look like. Something flashy, probably. Mr. Kingpin scrutinized the paper before handing it back. “Marvels of Technology, eh? I've never heard of you before—are you new?” “Oh, very. I'm working on our second issue. It's just that there haven't been a lot of marvels of technology until recently, have there? Big sort of upsurge in the past few years. Is there anything you can tell me about this machine?” When Mr. Kingpin appeared unwilling to talk, the Doctor added, “You can expect compensation.” “Well, I suppose that's all right. But I don't know what you're coming to me for, honestly. You probably want the technical stuff, don't you?” “Well...” The Doctor shrugged. “Trying to attack it from every angle, actually. Technical, personal... everyone likes the hu—” He just stopped himself from saying 'the human touch'. What do ponies say instead? 'The pony touch' just sounds... dumb. It was taking him too long to devise an equivalent expression, so he canceled the attempt. “Point is, anything you can tell us would be marvelous.” “Neat little catchphrase you've got there.” A yell came from the next room. “Well, there's another Game Over for ya. Next!” Mr. Kingpin sighed and waved the next customer in the queue, a propeller-wearing colt, into the arcade room. “Celestia, I wish some of em would just go bowling,” he groaned. “More bang for your bit, really—spend time with friends, test your skill in a way that's not entirely ephemeral, and the lines were certainly better.” “The arcade, Mr. Kingpin?” “Right. Well, I purchased it from Shift Laboratories about a week ago—you'd probably want to go to them for the tough questions. All I can tell you is that I set it up, it's worked perfectly since it was turned on, and thanks to it I may as well be minting bits right now. Sure, it arrived a little late, but other than that, I can't complain.” “Right....” The word came out automatically, for something had caught the Doctor's attention, and he had no idea what. Something Mr. Kingpin said? No, not that... there's something wrong in here... something... He peered around the room, trying to look casual. “Shift Laboratories?” Twilight was saying. “As in Blue Shift, the great inventor? I wouldn't have expected him to have created this; it seems awfully... well... frivolous.” “Yes, and that's not the only thing wrong with it.” The Doctor's voice had dropped to a low, urgent tone. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what was wrong. “Mr. Kingpin, you've just waved someone into the arcade game.” Kingpin shrugged. “Course I did. The last guy just lost. You heard him.” “And how do you exit the arcade room? Is there a door to outside?” “No, you have to come through here. Why?” “Because someone just went into your arcade room.” The Doctor leaned toward Mr. Kingpin and looked him in the eye. “But no one's come out.” The words hung in the air in the same attention-grabbing way as a corpse might; the eyes of his companions widened, and Twilight's jaw went slack. Kingpin's eyes, on the other hand, did a spot of rolling. “Which means he's watching the next guy play. Happens sometimes.” “Is he?” The Doctor walked around Kingpin's desk and poked his head into the room. “Perhaps you'd like to check that?” “Of course he is. What else could have—” Kingpin walked to the room too, and his eyes finally widened. In front of the arcade machine stood the colt from before, and no one else. “Don't mind us,” the Doctor said, noticing that the child was eyeing them with no small amount of confusion. “Doing a magazine spot on this, ah, incredible machine. Just was wondering if we could watch?” “I guess so,” he replied in a nasally sort of voice. The Doctor got behind the colt as he resumed playing. The game reminded the Doctor of something from Earth's early 1980's. A small, pixelated version of Daring Do ran across the screen, avoiding smaller, pixelated obstacles. Snakes slithered, water fell, and quicksand sank, but this colt was good; he evaded all the hazards and quickly progressed out of the game's desert level. “Wow, that's kinda weird,” the colt said, stopping Daring Do in the middle of the jungle level. “What is?” The Doctor leaned in closer. The colt tapped the screen twice. “I don't think that was there last time I played this level....” The Doctor looked where the colt had pointed to see a few rainbow-colored pixels and a patch of blue poking up from behind a bush. Twilight gasped and shoved her head beside the Doctor's. “That's not possible.” “Hang on—if I can just change the view...” The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, clicked it a few times, then aimed it at the screen. “Oho. Strictly speaking, this isn't possible either.” The view zoomed in and angled sideways. The blocky overgrowth of the jungle expanded, then zipped out of view as the screen slid behind the bush and came face to face with.... Rainbow Dash awoke with the opposite of a start, and groggily noticed—to her groggy disappointment—that the wall next to her was not the one in her cloud home. She was on a hammock inside Daring Do's cottage, and inside the arcade game, after all. It still wasn't a dream. She tumbled off of the hammock and onto the dirt floor, thinking of their conversation from last night. “Hold on. How many ponies besides me are in here?” she said. “You should probably come to my house. Not good to spend so much time in the sun.” Daring Do tried to walk around her, but Dash spread her wings, blocking the path entirely. “How. Many.” Daring Do looked at the bandage on her wing and sighed. “Depends how you count. You see, plenty of ponies have come in here, same way you did. But they're not here now.” “Where are they?” In response, the adventurer sighed and hesitated a few moments, before delivering the news in a voice more somber than she'd been using. “Dead. All of 'em got killed within minutes of getting here. Most didn't even make it past that snake. There was this one kid who made it almost all the way to the jungle....” “Dead?” Rainbow Dash's eyes widened. “No, they can't all be dead! They can't!” “It's a tough game, you know. And they didn't have my advantage.” “Advantage?” Daring Do snorted, then walked back onto the main course and into the path of a poisonous snake. It bit her, and she immediately crumpled to the ground. “Daring Do!” Rainbow Dash yelled, rushing toward her body—but it suddenly flickered out of existence. “Advantage.” The voice came from further up the course. Rainbow Dash looked and saw, to her astonishment, Daring Do walking toward her. The expression on Daring's face was more annoyed than Dash might have expected, considering she'd just killed herself. “I'm the main character of this game. I get to respawn. They didn't.” It was a scary thought, considering she was in the game too. Hold on, Rainbow Dash thought. What time is it outside? She looked out the window, but that didn't help: the sun was directly overhead, just as it had been when she'd entered the cottage. It never moved in this game, except sometimes between levels. Time was fairly meaningless. However, another clue alerted her to the time: Daring Do wasn't in the cottage. Rainbow Dash looked around what little of the cottage wasn’t easily visible, but she was alone. “Which means someone must be playing the game!” she vocalized. If I go to the level now, maybe someone will see me! Maybe they'll be able to get me out! Sleepiness erased, she zipped out of the cottage and raced down the path to the level—where she stopped, almost dead. She would have been dead if she'd continued; there was a poisonous snake moving from side to side on the ground before of her. She looked up, hoping to find another way, but the foliage was too densely packed above her to allow flight. Horseapples, she thought, waiting behind a bush. BONG BONG The two loud tones shocked Rainbow Dash, and she jumped into the air. “What was that?” she yelled, looking around for the source of the noise. “That's not possible,” said a voice. It was faint, but it sounded like it might just be.... “Twilight?” Rainbow Dash called, realizing where the voice and the sound must have been coming from. She looked up at the screen floating in the sky outside the jungle to see Twilight's face pressed right up against the glass. The Doctor's face was a bit further back, as was that of Fluttershy and a young colt wearing a propeller beanie. “Twilight!” Rainbow Dash yelled. “It's me! Help!” “Hold on,” the Doctor said. “If I can just change the view...” He pulled out a sort of metal wand that Rainbow Dash didn't recognize, and pointed its blue end into the screen. A high-pitched whistling pierced Rainbow Dash's eardrums. More importantly, the screen zoomed in toward her, shrinking in the process. It flew through the trees and around the bush, bringing Rainbow Dash face to face with Twilight. “Oho. Strictly speaking, this isn't possible either,” the Doctor said. “Rainbow Dash!” Twilight exclaimed. “What happened? How did you get in there?” “I'm sorry, Twilight. I know you said not to come in after hours but I couldn't help myself, and the game just sucked me in!” “You broke the Pinkie Promise?” “Well, actually I never really Pinkie Promised—” Rainbow Dash groaned. “Is this really important right now? You can sic Pinkie on me once I'm outta here!” “Yes, yes, sorry—but I don't know how to get you out!” Twilight yelled. “There's no spells for this!” “Then how'd I get in here?” “Good question,” the Doctor muttered. He spun his wand in the air, then trained it on the screen. “What are you doing?” Rainbow Dash yelled, hooves in her ears as the whistling returned with greater force. “Turn that down!” “Sorry!” The Doctor gave his wand a little twist, and the noise died down to a nominal whine. “I need to figure out exactly what happened. What exactly this game does to its victims, like the pony who arrived just before.” “Apparently....” Rainbow Dash gulped. “I'm the only one who's still alive.” “But... everypony else in there is dead?” Fluttershy was quaking on her hooves. “Oh my goodness, that's awful! What happened?” “Daring Do told me they couldn't make it past the first level.” “Daring Do told you?” Twilight asked. “She can talk?” “Of course she can talk!” “Never mind that now, we need data!” The Doctor waved Twilight off, and continued pointing his wand at various sections of the screen. “If I can just get it to display...” The screen went almost black, save for a few words in reverse. “No, no no no!” the Doctor blurted. Rainbow heard a smack from his side of the console. “It's realized I'm tampering and it doesn't like it!” “What's happening?” she heard Fluttershy yell. “Rainbow Dash? Are you okay?” “I'm fine! But you need to get out now!” For Rainbow had just figured out what the screen was. “Why?” Twilight asked. “Because it's about to suck me in!” the Doctor yelled. The screen—PREPARE FOR AN ALL-NEW GAMEPLAY EXPERIENCE—swirled in on itself in a way Rainbow Dash found horribly familiar. She felt an incredible wind against her once more—but now it was blowing from the screen. She saw the screen mutate toward her, like elastic with something pressing against the side. Then the Doctor's face burst through with a gasp—but only his face. The rest of him was still on the other side, like something—more likely somepony—was holding him back. “Hold on, Doctor!” came a voice from the other side. Stay tuned: Daring Do and the Cyber Spirits will resume in just a moment.