Around two in the afternoon, Twilight and Spike found themselves once again sitting in a private car, being shepherded far from home at the Sysadmin’s request. The gleaming white mag-lev train sped along at close to a hundred kilometers an hour, leaving behind the gloomy atmosphere in Citadel for the fresh Arcadian countryside. Twilight sat at the window seat, staring glumly out at the sprawling acres of stately white trees and grassy plains that lay between the capital and Oldtown.
That name registered in her head like a flat note to her ears. Oldtown was to the modern world what a stasis pod was to medical science: a gaudy relic. Before Integration, the city used to be Westhaven, a thriving port town and seat of the local government. Now it was a joke, a shadow of its former self. Twilight had heard from her professors that, if you wanted to scare a first-year coder at the Institute, you threatened them with permanent reassignment to a gene farm in Oldtown.
While she stared at the immaculate forests and meadows outside, Twilight was forced to wonder what she’d done to deserve the same fate.
Beside her, Spike was curled up and taking one of his usual naps. Even with all the upgrades that Twilight had paid for, he still retained that odd quirk of his canine nature. She’d learned to cope with it after the first month or so; if anything, it gave her plenty of time to sit and study in peace.
She started by slipping her visor back on and syncing up her recent data logs. The first thing that popped up was the dossier that Raven had uploaded. Years of meticulous data on the five girls who Twilight was now on her way to meet. One by one, she read through the names and their short bios. Here was a truck driver. There was an entrepreneur. Here was a repulsor racer. There was a local geneticist, and so on…
Twilight stared at the scrolling fields of text with increasing dismay. She didn’t have the first clue where to start. Who would be the easiest to find? And what would she say once she found them? Hi, you don’t know me, but the Sysadmin sent me on a mission to stop an ancient daemon from taking over the world and I really could use your help…!
They’d laugh. They’d turn their backs on her. And if they were anything like that girl Trixie that Twilight sat next to in Systems Logic 101, they’d hurl all kinds of hurtful insults her way.
Her research—for once—wasn’t getting her anywhere. Twilight growled and switched off the dossier in her screenless display. Then she made a copy of the data and uploaded it to the private network that she shared with Spike. If anything, he’d do a better job of perusing the dossier once they arrived. And as a dog, he’d have an easier time making friends just by wagging his tail and panting. It was the perfect way to break the ice, Twilight decided.
A silvery blur outside the train window caught Twilight’s attention. She turned and watched as another blur went by. And then another.
Six hand-sized robots, crafted into small flying discs, accelerated in unison past the train. Twilight tapped the side of her visor, calling up telemetry and ID tags on the little machines.
What she got back was an automated message, both text and audio: “Please remain calm. Emergency Service operators are currently rebuilding local Grid infrastructure. Please refrain from excessive data sharing and online networking. We thank you for your patience.”
It wouldn’t be obvious to most people, but Twilight could tell that the little robots were hard at work. In the distance, miles away from the mag-lev tracks, were lone white towers that carried their own network beacons. Twilight watched as the robots flashed their own tiny beacons at the distant towers. When the lights flashed in unison, the robots would race ahead to the next set, hurrying to restore basic Grid functions ahead of the mag-lev train. Something Twilight found immensely comforting; no Grid functions ahead meant no wireless energy transfer and the train coming to a dead stop.
She almost wished that those low-grade robots could be her friends instead. They’d certainly be easier to handle than five unruly Oldtown coders. And they wouldn’t need much convincing to go down into the Vault either.
Twilight sighed and turned away from the window. This line of thought wasn’t getting her anywhere. And there wasn’t any point in scouring her bookmarked netsites for news updates either. She switched off her visor and closed her eyes.
And as if matters couldn’t be any worse, that network implant in her neck wouldn’t stop tingling. It was like it had a mind of its own—and knowing the Sysadmin, that could very well be true. Twilight scratched at the skin around the implant, fighting the urge to shiver.
Somehow, she was going to make this all work out. A leap of faith from a moving train…
As the train pulled into Oldtown Station, Twilight noticed a curious optical effect in the sky overhead. The local atmosphere bots were glitching out almost as badly as the ones back in Citadel. When she peered into the thin cloud layer, Twilight noticed several swarms drifting back and forth in the direction of the sun. Their optic cloaks refracted the sunlight instead of filtering the UV radiation, unleashing prismatic bursts in the air like a fireworks show.
She knew it was an accident, but Twilight liked to think of it as an improvised welcome party. Whatever it took to make herself feel better about the situation.
“Whoa,” said Spike. He leapt toward the floor of the private car and made his way toward the rear exit. “Check your visor, Twilight. We’ve got a ton of network activity coming through!”
“Really?” Twilight pulled her visor on as fast as she could. Maybe they’d gotten more of the Grid working after all. If so, she could run a search for her old forum friends and see if they were all okay—
She stopped in her tracks, reeling from the blast of text and graphics that exploded over her visor. Twilight yanked the device off and rubbed at her eyes. “Ugh! Seriously?”
Up ahead, Spike looked back. “What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t warn me about the trap tags!” Twilight carefully put her visor back on. “Sync up and you’ll see what I mean.”
Spike immediately sat down and closed his eyes. Twilight could see his ears perk and his eyelids flutter as he accessed their private network. Then she waited for him to access the wave of text and smiley faces scrolling down her visor nonstop.
Anonymous: Hiii!!
Anonymous: Hey there!!
Anonymous: Welcome, welcome, welcome!!
Anonymous: Welcome to Oldtown!!!
Anonymous: New best buddies, come out and play!
Anonymous: PM me at BakerBuddy011.we for where to meet!
Anonymous: See you soon!!!
The same seven lines of text kept scrolling over her visor, broken up by a short animation of three kittens purring and leaping over each other. Their heads were disturbingly replaced with poorly drawn smiling cat’s faces. Twilight shuddered and sent a force-stop command at once.
“Aww, that’s not very nice,” said Spike. He paused to scratch at his ear with a back paw. “I mean, what if it’s one of the girls we’re supposed to meet?”
Twilight rolled her eyes and walked past him toward the exit. “Spike, did you even see that Grid code? You don’t just send someone an anonymous message like that! It’s probably loaded with all kinds of trap tags.” She paused mid-step as another thought occurred to me. “And maybe… I mean, what if it’s another Nightmare Moon trap?”
Spike’s ears dropped flat. “Why would someone who calls herself Nightmare Moon send you a bunch of cheery texts and kittens?”
“Well…” Twilight blushed as she pushed the door open. “Okay, maybe that’s a stretch. But still, we need to be careful. With the Grid down, there’s no knowing how bad the security is out here. Slicers and street mercs are probably going to show up in droves.”
They continued to chat in this way as they walked off the train and into the open air of Oldtown. The Grid had gotten so haywire out here that Twilight’s first impression was the reek of damaged sewer lines and malfunctioning garbage incinerator pits. She hurried to tug up the collar of her jacket over her nose, using its smart silk to create a delicate lilac scent. Spike, of course, walked on without any dismay. He’d been bred to endure all manner of smells, both pleasant and foul.
Beyond the train platform was a sprawling neighborhood of Neo-Deco townhouses and a cluster of residence towers whose chrome surface had begun to rust and chip. Airbuses and hovercraft buzzed through the skylanes, creating wide shifting shadows over the hundreds of people crossing through the avenues below. Twilight saw people routinely stopping to share data and exchange hastily bundled packages, only to slip away as fast as they could.
Meanwhile, holo-banners and ad bot swarms were emerging and dissolving at random in the air just below the skylanes. Spike ducked as a neon pink sign proclaiming Repulsor Tourney at the Wonderblaze – Live at 7 Tonight! was born for a second before collapsing with a sad chime.
Twilight kept dialing up the antivirus settings on her own gear as she joined the crowd leaving the train station. The last thing she needed in this place was an ID theft attack. So far, Oldtown was bigger than she’d expected, but about as glamorous as she’d figured—which was to say, not very.
She followed Spike through the crowd of people, seeing plenty of miserable faces as they passed. There weren’t any first responders around like in Citadel. Everyone kept shuffling along in their own way, all trying to get by.
“Before we get too far,” Spike said, muffled by the crowd, “I’ll check the list we got from the Sysadmin. There’s gotta be an address we can look up.”
“You—oh, pardon me!—you do that.” Twilight smiled at the older woman in the frock coat, who muttered under her breath and continued to elbow her way through the crowds.
With five different people to find, Twilight offered a silent prayer that at least one of them might be relatively sane. Celestia had said they were talented, but that didn’t guarantee they’d be entirely stable—
“There you are!” a voice shouted from far behind her.
Twilight stumbled, almost tripping over Spike as they came to a halt. Meanwhile, the crowd of people around them parted as a bright pink blur came hurtling toward them at a hundred miles an hour. Twilight blinked fast, calling up every antiviral protocol she had—and then raised her fists just in case the attack was physical.
Instead, tires screeched, driving off more pedestrians as a golden electric bike came skidding to a halt. Spike clung to Twilight’s leg, shivering, as the bike and its rider continued to skid around them in a complete circle, leaving deep black grooves on the soft concrete below.
By the time the crowd left and the dust settled, Twilight realized that this wasn’t an ambush. Slowly, she lowered her hands and observed the newcomer.
Straddling the goldenrod bike—a Trailblazer P3-99, her visor’s auto-scan told her—was a young woman in a striped blue-and-white outfit. Twilight kept on blinking, not sure if the dust or some glitch was making her see an anthropomorphic candy cane riding a motorbike. Both the woman’s helmet and goggles were a translucent shade of pink, with daisy and kitten decals slapped on at random. And as if she wasn’t unsettling enough, the rider flashed Twilight a manic grin that seemed a touch predatory.
Twilight blinked again. “What?”
“I said, ‘There you are!’” The rider removed her helmet, shaking a bubbly mane of neon pink hair. Twilight’s visor scans didn’t pick up any dye in her hair, which she found surprising. A genetic mod, perhaps?
With a whimper, Spike uncurled himself from Twilight’s leg. “Yeah, but… who are you and what do you want with us?”
Right! thought Twilight. That was exactly the sort of question she should’ve been asking instead of gawking like an idiot. She slapped herself mentally and made a note to not rely so much on Spike for future introductions.
Pushing up her goggles, the rider’s blue eyes danced over Twilight’s face. She held out her index finger. “Aww, come on! I totally sent you that ‘Hi and welcome to Oldtown!’ and you were all grumpy-face about it!” Her face briefly twisted into an exaggerated sour frown, only to snap back into her manic grin. “But then I found you and now we get to be best buddies on a brand new adventure! Isn’t that great?”
Celestia help me, I knew Oldtown was full of crazy people. But when the rider continued to hold out her index finger, Twilight couldn’t stay perplexed for much longer. She remembered enough about social customs to know that a v-card exchange was polite under any circumstances. But she stayed cautious as she reached out and tapped her finger against the rider’s.
Data shimmered over Twilight’s visor. As soon as the stranger’s name appeared, she got a ping from the Sysadmin’s checklist of important people in Oldtown. Even more data blossomed over her visor readout.
Synopsis: Pinkie Pie. Age 22. Graphic artist for Sugarcube Studios. C-3 implant rating.
Administrator’s Notes: Handle with care.
“You’re…?” Twilight pushed her visor up to get a better look at the odd woman. Then she pulled it back down and scrutinized the data readout. “I don’t… you’re Pinkie Pie?”
“Yep-yep-yeppers!” Pinkie waved. “And you’re Twilight Sparkle! I knew it before ’cause all my little birdies told me!”
“What birdies—?” Twilight stopped and stared at the tiny pink figures popping to life over Pinkie Pie’s shoulders. They danced through the air and flocked around her, making their own party to a melody that no one else could hear.
Pinkie giggled and grabbed a handful of the holograms out of the air. “It’s just like my v-card says! I’m just a fun-loving designer—or as Rarity would say, an artiste!” She emphasized her point by lifting her palm to her forehead and sighing dramatically. “Anyhoo, these little guys love to jump through networks whenever someone new comes to town and that’s how I met you! They gave you my own personal ‘Welcome to Oldtown’!”
It was at this point that Spike took a proud step forward. “Well, since she won’t say it, thanks for the warm welcome!”
“Aww!” Pinkie knelt down and crushed Spike’s neck in a tight hug. Twilight couldn’t resist a giggle at the dog’s bulging eyes. “You’re such a cuddly-wuddly doggie-woggie! Yes, you are!”
“Hnngh… thank you…!” Spike’s tail whipped so hard back and forth that it looked ready to fly off on its own. “T-Twilight, help!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. Much as she loved seeing Spike in this predicament, she had business to take care of. World-saving, fate-defying business that couldn’t wait another minute.
“If you know who I am,” said Twilight, taking a cautious step toward the bike, “then you must know why I’m here.”
“Nope!”
“What?”
Pinkie leapt back to her feet. “I said, ‘Nope!’ Not a clue!”
Twilight bit back a stinging retort—it sounded good in her head, anyway—and counted backward from three. Then she let out her breath and looked Pinkie in the eye.
“We’re here,” she declared quietly, “on behalf of System Administrator Celestia.” And once she got started, the words couldn’t stop. No, bad Twilight! Don’t babble! “I’ve been sent to gather you and four other coders to enter the Vault a-and help the Sysadmin stop a terrible virus from permanently crashing the Grid and ending life as we know it on Terra forever!”
When she finished being stupid, Twilight closed her eyes and braced herself. She knew what would come next. The mocking laughter. Or maybe a rude gesture. And then she’d hear the bike rev up and drive away—
“Okey-dokey!”
“Um, what?” Twilight cracked one eyelid open.
Pinkie was straddling her bike again, revving it up just as Twilight had feared. But she wasn’t driving away. Instead, she reached down to one side and unhooked a small blue helmet from its hook on the chassis. “Here you go!”
“I… thanks.” Twilight fumbled with the helmet, giving Spike a concerned look. “Sorry, I’m not too good with people. Did you actually pay attention to what I said?”
“Yep!” Pinkie gave her a thumbs-up and a cheeky smile.
“And… you believe me?”
“Yep-yep!”
“And you…” Twilight shook her head, which wasn’t easy with the helmet she was wearing. “And you want to help me?”
“Yep-yep-yeppers!” In an impressive show of coordination, Pinkie slid on her goggles with one hand while putting her helmet back on with the other. Then she patted the seat behind her. “Hop on, new best friend! I’ll introduce you to all my friends! They’ll totally wanna meet you!”
Twilight frowned and checked her visor readout. “Are you sure? I mean, I’ve got a schedule to keep. All these other coders aren’t going to find themselves—”
Spike nudged her in the leg. He cast those pleading puppy-dog eyes right at her. “Come on, Twilight. We’ll be fine.”
She wanted to believe him—really, she did. But Twilight hadn’t gone where she was by being carefree. At the Celestial Institute, you got ahead by being smarter and more focused than everyone else, no matter what.
But in this Grid-forsaken world, there was no discipline. There were no rules. Twilight didn’t like it. But what else could she do but keep moving forward?
With a sigh, she straddled the bike behind Pinkie Pie and slid her arms around the girl’s waist.
“Here!” Pinkie reached down the other side of her bike and pulled up a thin backpack. “It’s not much, but your cute little friend can ride in here!”
Twilight cast a dubious glance at the backpack and then at Spike. The dog wagged his tail as he peered into the open backpack. It took a little help from Pinkie, but he was able to jump in without too much grunting. Then Twilight winced as she shouldered the pack onto her back, slipping her arms through the narrow straps.
“Remember, I’m insured if you drop me,” Spike said into her ear. Twilight felt his hot, muggy breath on the back of her neck. “That being said, if you do drop me, Twilight, so help me, I’ll—”
“I got it, don’t worry.” Twilight reached back and scratched at his ear. “Have a little faith in me.” She glanced ahead and wrapped her arms around Pinkie. “And, I suppose, in our new driver.”
Pinkie cackled and revved up the bike again, creating new plumes of dust and mayhem in the open street. “That’s the spirit! Let’s go!”
Searing hot wind snapped across Twilight’s face, making her grateful to be wearing such a sturdy visor. Behind her, Spike had both of his front paws on her shoulders. He sung his head to and fro, his tongue dangling freely in the open air.
For some reason, Twilight found the sight of him acting as a normal dog comforting at a time like this.
Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was chattering nonstop while she drove her bike up long avenues and cut sharp corners, moving them deeper into Oldtown. “…So then I was on the city transit page and they were all like, ‘No way!’ and I was like, ‘Uh, yeah way!’ And then my little birdies found this new girl and her little dog too, so I sent her my very own personal greeting and then she was all like, ‘Whoa…!’ and I was like—”
Twilight blinked. Not that it mattered; her visor was running low on data streams this deep into the city. “Um, Pinkie, I already know that. I was there, remember?”
“Huh?” Pinkie glanced over her shoulder, for once not wearing a huge grin. “Oh, right! Pause!”
A moment later, Twilight heard a soft chime. Then Pinkie giggled and made a soft left turn at the next intersection. “That wasn’t for you, silly! That was me making a journal for all my followers on Fast Chat! All two point seven million of them!”
“But…” Twilight looked back at Spike for help, but he was still lost in the joy of the ride. “But the Grid’s still crashed…”
“You’re so funny, Twilight Sparkle!” Pinkie said, laughing. “I’m recording all my thoughts now so they’ll be fresh and yummy once the Grid’s back online!”
“Oh. Okay.” Twilight clung on, feeling rather dumb about her earlier remarks.
She missed the simplicity of her old friends. They were funny and colorful like Pinkie, but at least they knew how to communicate. On the forum, there wasn’t any need for watching facial tics. And their chats never took place on the back of a high-speed bike racing through downtown boroughs either, exposing Twilight to all kinds of dirt and other contaminants.
With her head resting on Pinkie’s back, Twilight missed the familiar lines of text running down her visor. She wanted to watch GrowingStrong and LadyCastellan argue about the latest industry practices or listen to QuietMouse334 give an impromptu lecture on animal grooming. Her tips had come in handy when Spike needed a good brushing.
She didn’t know their faces, but Twilight knew their voices. She wanted to go on the forum and ask if they were all right, to see their usernames and friendly texts appear once more.
I won’t forget any of you, thought Twilight. More wind and neon holo-banners flashed by as the bike raced on. If I have to make an effort with these Oldtown girls, I guess I’ll have to try—
Her thoughts came to a screeching halt—as did the bike. Pinkie let her vehicle skid into a very neat parking spot on the curb. Twilight’s stomach lurched up into her throat, making her lips tighten against what she feared would be a very nasty expulsion. She groaned and clutched at her midsection, taking deep breaths to settle her nerves again.
While she appreciated her new friend’s exuberance, Twilight wasn’t entirely sure she’d survive it.
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” With gymnastic grace, Pinkie swung her leg all the way over the handlebars and planted both feet on the sidewalk in a cheerful dismount. “Welcome to Old Oldtown! Or as I like to call it, Really, Really, Really Old Oldtown!”
As she pried her helmet loose and let her head clear, Twilight took in her new surroundings. This section of town was definitely old. Fresh condensation lined the empty windows, their sparkle balanced by the layer of grime coating every stucco wall in sight. What had once been a series of white and gold-trimmed stores and apartments had long since faded to a rusty gray and bronze ghetto. When Twilight checked her visor for storeowner v-cards and building ID tags, all she got were ominous blank spaces and error messages—and that scared her more than the sight of the neighborhood itself.
Behind her, Spike was shaking inside the canvas bag. He sniffled right into Twilight’s ear, making her wince. “Hmm. It’s actually kind of nice here.”
“Uh, you sure about that?” Twilight glanced at him. Maybe he was glitching out, too…
With another determined sniff, the canine leapt free from his canvas prison and landed on all fours beside the bike. He continued to sniff around the sidewalk, poking his nose closer and closer toward the nearest closed-up storefront.
The storefront door slid open with a deafening hiss as someone emerged. Twilight’s big sister instincts kicked in right away. She was already preparing a fast-response security block when she saw a head full of bright pink hair lean out the open doorway.
“Aww,” said a very gentle and feminine voice, “what a cutie!”
Twilight blinked as a delicate-looking woman stepped out from the doorway. She was about Pinkie Pie’s height and looked about as young. Apart from that, she was Pinkie’s total opposite. Even her hair was a softer shade of pink and fell loosely around her shoulders. It formed a pleasant frame for her blue-green eyes and the loving smile she gave Spike as she scratched below his chin. Judging by the green coveralls and the white lab coat she wore over them, Twilight guessed she was in some kind of medical profession.
Meanwhile, Spike was in doggy heaven. Getting his ears and chin scratched left him a sleepy-eyed, tail-wagging puddle of joy in the new girl’s inviting hands. Twilight rolled her eyes and took a step forward, waving her hand to get the girl’s attention.
“Oh!” With surprising speed, she drew back, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. Her demeanor changed in a heartbeat. Her eyes fixed on Twilight for a second, only to shift down to a distant the sidewalk. “H-hello…”
“Hi.” Twilight glanced at Pinkie Pie, who gave her a thumbs-in and another mad grin. When she turned back to the new girl, she lifted her index finger. “Do you mind?”
Nodding, but still not making eye contact, the girl lifted her index finger and tapped it against Twilight’s. New data streamed over her visor, along with another note from Celestia’s records.
Synopsis: Fluttershy. Age 23. Self-employed genetic therapist. C-3 implant rating.
Administrator’s Notes: Easily startled, but stronger than she looks.
“Fluttershy…” Twilight smiled. She knew a little something about dealing with the socially awkward—the Citadel Stargazers Conference was full of them. After taking note of the new girl’s posture, she tilted her head down and clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s nice to meet you. I assume you’re one of Pinkie Pie’s friends?”
With a timid squeak, Fluttershy nodded. She grabbed at her wrist and glanced out at Twilight from behind the curtain of her luscious hair. Twilight idly wondered what kind of bathing regimen she was on to get such a nice shine, especially in this filthy place.
“Ha!” Pinkie Pie dropped down beside Fluttershy. She squeezed her arm around her friend’s waist, unleashing a more terrifying squeak from her. “Me and Shy have been best buddies for a long time now! Ain’t that right, Shy?”
“Y-yes!” Fluttershy glanced at Pinkie Pie, blinking her eyes in a very deliberate way. Pinkie smiled back, giving her a slow wink.
Twilight watched the exchange with sudden interest. Though it wasn’t registering on her visor, she guessed that they were using a private network to share rapid-fire messages. Not an uncommon practice, but it felt a little rude since Twilight and Spike were standing right there, totally shut out of the conversation.
Not to mention, it was a bit suspicious. What weren’t they telling her?
“Um…” Fluttershy turned back to Twilight and rubbed her hands together, almost pleading. “Pinkie tells me that you’re from Citadel.” She swallowed. “Is that right?”
“That’s right!” Twilight smiled. Finally, she could get back on track. “I’m here on an assignment from Administrator Celestia herself, you see, and—”
A pitiful squeal burst from Fluttershy’s lips as she dropped to her knees and lifted her hands in supplication. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
Twilight stared. Had she skipped ahead to a different conversation? “I… beg your pardon?”
“I-I know I wasn’t supposed to, but… Miss Sparkle, you have to believe me!” Fluttershy looked away, her lovely face twisting into a mask of anguish and guilt. “I didn’t get a license application in time, but the poor thing was hurt and I had to do something! I mean, you can understand that, r-right?”
Twilight shared a look with Spike, who was just as confused. Then she turned back to Fluttershy and tried to soften her voice. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand. What do you think you’re in trouble for?”
“The operation,” Fluttershy replied. Sniffling, she lifted her head. Twilight’s heart wrenched to the side at the sight of those big tear-filled eyes. “I-I’m only licensed to do gene mods for animals, but I wanted to get certified for human mods, too.” Her voice began to get quieter as she spoke, so Twilight knelt down to hear her better. “B-but then I found this poor girl lying in the streets last week and I just had to do something! So I took her inside and fixed up her immune system with a transgene and now she’s all better…”
Twilight smiled and patted her arm. “Doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong then.”
“But I’m not licensed!” Fluttershy clasped her hands together. “P-please, tell the Sysadmin I’m sorry! I’ll get the training and the certificate, I promise!”
“Relax. I’m not here for that.”
Blinking away tears, Fluttershy’s face gleamed with the sudden influx of hope. “Y-you’re not?”
“As I told Pinkie,” said Twilight, helping her new friend back to her feet, “I’m here on a special assignment from the Sysadmin. I’m supposed to get the two of you, plus three others, to help the Sysadmin conduct a very serious mission in the Vault.”
“The Vault?” Fluttershy swallowed. Her shoulders trembled under Twilight’s grasp. “Oh, dear…”
That phrase. Two little words that, with the right inflection, sounded so familiar to Twilight’s ears. But this was her first time meeting Fluttershy—at least, as far as she knew. Maybe they’d passed by on a forum somewhere? Or even met at a stargazer event?
But that mystery would have to wait. The fate of Terra was still weighing on her shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Shy!” Pinkie Pie hugged her friend from behind. “Your dear old Auntie Pinkie Pie’s gonna keep you safe and snug when we’re spelunking in the Vault! And if there’s a word sillier than ‘spelunking,’ we’ll be sure to find it together!”
Twilight wanted to explain that the Vault wasn’t built like that, but she didn’t bother. Instead, she crossed her arms and looked over at Spike, who was sitting at attention. His tail perked up in curiosity.
“If we’ve found these two,” he suggested, “maybe we ought to focus on finding the others?”
“Aww!” Fluttershy was snuggling against him in a heartbeat, wearing the biggest smile. “He talks! I love talking to uplifted critters! They’re just so amazing and wonderful!”
“Yeah, they are,” said Twilight. She glanced at Pinkie Pie, then over at her parked bike. Logistics and route concepts buzzed through every corner of her brain. “Uh, I’d ask if we can get a ride, but I doubt that we can all fit on this thing.”
Pinkie laughed as she snapped her goggles back into place. “No problemo!” She planted her thumb near her ear and stuck her little finger toward her mouth, miming an old-concept phone. “I’m calling another friend for a lift! She’ll be here in a dash!”
Twilight crossed her arms and leaned back against the bike, counting quietly to ten. She couldn’t believe she was relying on that old mental trick again. “Well, I guess that’s fine—” A sudden grumble from her stomach made her grimace. “Ugh, I knew I forgot something when we left Citadel! Breakfast!”
A loud gasp split the air. Pinkie Pie grabbed Twilight by her shoulders and shook her. “Oh, no! You can’t forget breakfast! It’s the most important meal of the day! Right after dessert, afternoon snacks, and a big morning brunch!” Twilight’s vision became blurry as the shaking intensified. “You can’t skip it!”
“Here!” Fluttershy took out a pair of foil-wrapped bars from her coat pocket and handed one to Twilight. “It’s a protein supplement. It should keep you full for a while.”
“Thanks.” Twilight accepted the bar and unwrapped it enough for a quick bite. She smiled as soon as the confection touched her lips. This protein bar had better quality than the snacks she was used to getting at the Institute café; sweet chocolate coated the grainy protein filling.
While she wolfed down her snack, she noticed Fluttershy breaking her own protein bar in half. After taking a bite of her piece, Fluttershy offered the rest to Spike, who gulped the whole thing down. Twilight was impressed at how approachable this girl was. She even let Spike lick her palm for crumbs, giggling at his touch. And having lived with him for so long, Twilight knew all too well where Spike’s tongue had been.
Despite the awkward start, Twilight had a feeling that Fluttershy would be easier to get along with than Pinkie Pie. She only hoped the rest of their circle would be just as easy to work with.
And just as easy to find, too. But Twilight knew better than to accept an easy victory at face value. What was really going on here? How was it that all the people she’d been sent to find were already in close range of each other—and all friends, no less?
She didn’t like lurking variables much, but sooner or later, she’d get to the bottom of this one.