The world slowly came into focus as Twilight blearily opened her eyes. Her mind was foggy and muddled, as if waking up from a particularly long nap in the middle of the day. The rest of the world came into focus as her mind caught up with her waking senses. Her eyes snapped open and her head shot up in alarm. Flailing her head back and forth only garnered the feeling of being dizzy and disoriented. While she was recovering from her panic attack she noted that she was still in Marcus’s living room and the owner of said living room was still sprawled out on his love seat. Wrestling control from an immensely powerful alicorn in the dream realm and subsequently displaying every inkling and factoid about human history and human nature no doubt mentally exhausted the psychology major, hence his still sleeping form. No doubt he would be out of commission for a day or two.
The last note she took before she acted was that at that moment, that instant in time, he was completely and utterly at her mercy. He was subject to anything her imagination and magical and physical limitations could muster up. Magically induced comas, regardless of their length, could have disastrous results if the victim were to wake up. Anything from a real coma, to an increased inclination to disease, to possible permanent brain damage were possible outcomes. All these factors were taken in while she slowly, methodically, made her way over to Marcus’s prone form. She stood over the helpless human the way Celestia would stand over a pony that had for lack of a better term; ‘Fucked up’. If he were awake he surely would have been trembling in fear as he could not see her face in the dim light, masking her true intentions. She then did something that would probably have even Discord scratching his head for days.
She leaned down, kissed him on the forehead as soft as she could, and whispered a quiet “Thank you”.
‘Huh?’ indeed dear reader.
Now I may have mislead you dear reader. In the time when I explained the ways in which Mr. Aliyev presented his… ideas and concepts, my own mind was still struggling to comprehend the sheer magnitude of what he revealed. As with any natural response to the unknown in any mind, human or pony, the brain resorted to fear. A completely natural response, which in the days of the hunter-gatherer, would trigger the flight or fight response in order to escape or engage in combat. Evolution never intended for humans or ponies to last as long as they did and that response of ‘fear the unknown’, still dominates intellectual minds today. It closes so many doors it’s almost hard to count. Unlimited possibilities have been shut out because of a single, primal instinct.
The point is; the things he showed Twilight weren't necessarily as horrifying or even simply as scary as I made them out to be. For this misdirection, I am truly sorry dear reader. The same could also be applied to Miss Sparkle. Her mind was already tired out from the first session. When he started the lesson on the human psyche, her mind just could not process that much unknown information. At first she was screaming in fear, the fight or flight response kicking in and blocking it from being absorbed. Her emotions were varied during the history lesson, fear, rage, elation, and contentment were all running rampant between them. Yes, Marcus was participating as well.
By the time he had realized that the way he was presenting the new information was getting nowhere fast she was screaming in pain this time around. She had dislocated several bones from her thrashing so violently and several deep gashes where the clamps dug into her skin. It was a dream world, but it was his dream world. He had made it as realistic as possible: real emotions, real senses, real pain. Even in his smug stupor he could see he was causing her a massive deal of pain. This was not his goal. His goal was to educate her, in more ways than one: Be careful what you wish for, high and mighty gets you nowhere, don’t trade friendship for science, yadda yadda yadda. He quickly stopped the blitzkrieg of knowledge and allowed her to catch her breath and come to her senses. Using the power of the Dream-Scape, he numbed her body, reset all the bones, and healed all the gashes.
While she was catching up with reality, Marcus realized something very important and very sobering. Something he should have realized before he started subjecting her to torment by teaching: He was being a real dick. plain and simple. He was acting like a self righteous, white knight prick. He felt confident that his lessons would put her in her place after they finished up, but he was having some serious doubts about that. Back then he only cared about getting her away from him at all costs, it didn't matter to him anymore that he was already being a giant hypocrite in regards to his ‘mental safety barriers’, all that mattered was getting back at that pretentious little asshole for calling him a liar and no better than an average pony! The more he thought about it, however, the more he realized that he was also being racist and/or speciesist. No better than the average pony? The average pony half his size and any race could most likely cause serious, if not permanent damage, whether by hoof or horn. The only things he had going for him were his hands, which were a novelty at best; diamond dogs, dragons, and minotaurs all had hands, and his ability to seek out his own destiny and make it anything he wanted. Sure this was cool and all, but it was not much when most humans can’t find their own calling anyway. Ponies have it laid out for them on a more or less silver platter. Sometimes quite literally in some noble families.
He really fucked up this time around.
“Makush?”
His head instantly snapped up to look at the broken and bound pony seated before him. He faintly noted that streaks of wetness had made their way down his cheeks. All was forgotten however when he got a good look at what he had made. She looked tired. Exhausted beyond any stretch of the imagination. A mere husk of the confident pony that walked in not twenty minutes before. “Heh” he thought bitterly, “She even came in here because of some misinformation. A giant cosmic fluke that sent her to a human world with exact copies of the ponies here. I blew up in her face because she fucked up the information, now she is paying dearly for that.” He came back from his thoughts to note that Twilight was trying to say something to him, but the words were so garbled and incoherent it sounded like her whole mouth had been injected with Novocaine. He quickly took the numbing effect off of her face while leaving the rest of her body senseless. He knew from personal experience that having bones reset hurt like a bitch, even after it was all done.
Twilight could feel the motor control coming back to her face when Marcus waved his hand at her. She was getting ready to speak when he did so first.
“Twilight?” he managed to squeak out as his emotional barriers began to show cracks.
“Twilight… I know you probably cannot, nor will you ever begin to think about accepting this. But for what it is worth, which is not much… I am truly, truly, truly!... Sorry.”
“I dun goofed. I dun goofed hard and unbearably bad. You came into my house and told me some false information. For that, I not only blew up in your face, but also breached my own mental securities for a petty victory. A Pyrrhic Victory it seems as well. I should have realized that I was insecure about my own thoughts and created both mental and social barriers around myself. I also should have known that you were only pursuing your special talent in the pursuit to simply know. The way you kept knocking at my door every day in order to pick my mind apart, was just your calling. Your special talent. When you came to me today, you came with as much information about the human mind as possible, as much as I let you: None. You came in tonight with information you garnered at this human world and took it as fact. You did so because you knew next to nothing about my humans. My specific species. I thought of you as ignorant and condescending when you were really just misinformed. My actions were extreme, unwarranted, and unwelcome. I realize now that I am the villain here and I-I hope some d-day you can find it in you-your heart to forgive me.” He managed to spit all of that out hurriedly before finally choking up at the end. He placed one of his hands over his face and let the almost silent tears flow. What would you do? The same thing after maiming someone who you once thought of as a close friend.
“Marcus? Marcus please look at me. Please?”
He found the inner strength to lift his suddenly very heavy head to look at her, fully expecting a long lecture or something more extreme like a prison sentence. All he got to gaze at, however, was another tear stained face. One, not marred by tears of pain, but of sorrow.
“Marcus please don’t take up all the blame yourself. I am about as much at fault as you are. Yes I did come in here misinformed, but I also came in here like a pompous ass. Barging into your home, calling you mean names, and calling you out like that? Not to mention demanding you let me into your head every single day. Completely unacceptable -- especially for a princess for crying out loud! I feel like I should be asking for your forgiveness as much as you are to me.” Although her eyes were red and her words were obviously strained, she managed to keep her voice level.
Marcus chose his next words very carefully. The way things had been going for the two, they could not just forgive, forget, and move on. Too many bad memories and hurtful actions to forget.
“We both screwed up didn't we.”
“We both screwed up didn't we”
They slowly turned their heads up to each other. Instead of breaking out into laughter like they used to when they both said the same words, they finally allowed smiles to adorn their faces. Perhaps there was a chance for this lost friendship to be found and rekindled after all.
“You still want to?” he asked with great trepidation.
“What?”
“Do you still want to… you know… learn... about me?”
…
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
…
“Alright. Let’s get you out of that thing.”
He made his way over to the chair that was still restraining her, and with no small amount of gentleness, removed her bonds. He slowly rubbed the matted fur on her forelegs, a subtle, but at the same time, glaring, reminder of the agony he caused.
“This is a dream world, any physical harm done here is inconsequential in the real world.”
“Just because there are no physical scars, does not mean there aren't any mental ones.” he added solemnly.
Slowly, he lifted her limp form up like a groom carries his bride and made his way over to the door, previously a dull, steel grey, now a warm mahogany wood color.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere a little more comfortable.”
He reached for the knob and agonizingly slowly, opened the door to reveal quite a sight. The new room was a personal movie theater. The walls were adorned with brown, mahogany walls and old movie posters, some dating back to the 1930’s. Hanging from the ceiling was an HD wall projector, no doubt worth quite a pretty penny. On the red velvet covered floor sat two fat bean bag chairs. In the far corner was an old fashioned popcorn maker, its contents hot, buttered, and ready to go. The opposite corner contained a cabinet with a glass door, behind which were a plethora of DVDs, Blu Rays, and a few VHS tapes. The whole room’s feel was a far cry from the cold and dismal aura that the interrogation room gave off.
“What is this place?” Twilight asked, beginning to soak in the cozy feeling of the room.
“Back on Earth, I was a rather rich man. I made money by helping troubled soldiers with various war diseases find peace. It was good work, I helped a lot of soldiers, and It payed rather well. With the money I made I was able to live a pretty nice lifestyle. It allowed me to pursue a little hobby I had: Movies. I used quite a lot of money to have this room built and decorated with authentic posters in my old home. The popcorn maker was something I just happened to find in my parent’s attic.” he stated rather proudly, inklings of nostalgia creeping in.
“This is my personal theater.”
He gently set her down on one of the bean bags. She began to relax as she sank into the chair.
“But for now, it is going to be my classroom.”
The lights dimmed like a real movie theater and the projector hummed to life, ready to begin the feature presentation. Twilight was already intently focused on the back wall before something rattled next to her. She turned her head and…
“Popcorn?”
…
“Sure.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
In the days that followed, Twilight almost completely lost her memory of that night. Being put to sleep by magic can have any number of detrimental side effects, one of them being temporary anterograde amnesia. Perhaps it was for the best after all. Ponykind might not be ready for such a big revolution in thinking. It would be like trying to explain the way the fourth dimension works to a group of fifth graders. Their brain could not physically comprehend it, it needs more time to mature.
After Marcus figured out what happened to Twilight, the sly wink and knowing smirk that shook her to her very core, last remnants of the memory of the interrogation room, became a full fledged smile, a wave, and amiable words. Twilight even forgot why she ever wanted to pick apart Marcus’s mind in the first place.
A couple of years later, Marcus decided that he was going to write everything down that he taught her in that dream so many years ago. He bought a few thick journals, and filled them to the brim with the smallest handwriting possible. He locked them in his house safe and buried it in the Canterlot Gardens with Luna's permission, hoping one day, that either he or someone else can dig it up and show Twilight and the world a new revolution in thinking. A way to derail off the the linear railroad track of pony life and soar in the new sky of freedom.