//------------------------------// // The Livid Surprise // Story: A Route Obscure and Lonely // by JapaneseTeeth //------------------------------// Spike didn’t want to open his eyes.  If he believed what Luna had told him, and he had no reason to disbelieve her, he had no idea what he’d see.  He would have to be ready for anything.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t be ready for anything if he couldn’t see.  He opened his eyes. And found himself in Sugarcube Corner. “Well, so much for that,” he said with a sigh. All that talk about preparing himself for the oddity and surrealism of someone else’s subconscious mind had turned out to be all for nothing.  He hoped Luna had a backup plan.  As much as he hated being Equestria’s last resort, it was better than not having any… resorts? Could you use the word like that?  It didn’t matter anyway; what mattered was that things had fallen through and they’d have to come up with something else. But first, he’d go back to the library.  Sure, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it probably wasn’t any safer than anywhere else in Ponyville, but it was home.  If he was going to get back to sleep at all, it could only happen in his own bed.  He turned around and took a step toward the front door. After that one step, he stopped.  The floor didn’t feel right.  Rather than his claws tapping on the hardwood, his foot sunk slightly in, as if he had stepped on a pillow.  In fact, that seemed to be exactly what he was standing on.  A very, very large pillow, even.  No, it was a mattress.  He shook his head as he chided himself for his slowness. Of course it’s a mattress.  You were leaning over the crib when you nodded off. You must’ve fallen in. He reached out to steady himself for his next step on the soft surface, but the bars of the crib were too far away.  Several steps away, in fact.  His eyes narrowed. The crib didn’t look right.  Sure, he was short enough that the bars would reach above his head, but this was different.  Somehow the railing that he had toppled over in his sleep had suddenly grown and was now several times taller than he was. He rubbed his eyes. That couldn’t be right.  If the rails of the crib were that tall, they’d go right through the ceiling. Come to think of it, the ceiling was a lot higher than he remembered it being.  And as he gave the rest of the room a closer look, it really didn’t look much like it was supposed to. “Oh, not this again!”  He kicked weakly at the plush floor. “I thought dreams were supposed to be all freaky and bizarre, not just a little bit weird! Where are all the flying pigs and upside down trees and” —as if on cue, a large orange cake with bright green frosting rolled through the air in front of him before exploding into a burst of confetti— “I shouldn’t have asked.” He scrambled to the edge of the crib.  Fortunately one of the sides had been unlocked and folded down.  He slid down one of the crib’s legs and landed on the real floor.  Having his feet on solid ground was reassuring, but now his view was even worse.  He scurried towards the round sample table that stood at the center of the room, feeling more like a mouse than a dragon. At least the plan seems to be working, he thought. I just wish I knew what the rest of it was.  He mentally rehearsed the steps she had given him.  Go to Sugarcube Corner. Find the Cake Twins.  Touch them and you’ll fall asleep.  Save Equestria. He couldn’t help but think she had skipped a step.  Several steps, even.  She had said that she would contact him once he had successfully infiltrated the dream, but he hadn’t heard a thing so far.  All he could do now was take stock of his surroundings and hope he could find a clue about what he was supposed to do. The table towered over him; the shadow it cast gave him the sensation of standing beneath the branches of an enormous tree.  He approached the high chair that sat beside it and began his ascent.  A few moments of huffing and puffing later and he was hoisting himself onto the tabletop.  In the center of the table sat a cake that was as tall as he was.  He dipped a finger into the icing and tasted it.  It was unbearably sweet. “Heh, Pinkie Pie would kill to have a cake this big,” he said with a chuckle.  Satisfied that the cake wouldn’t attack him, he began to circle the table and survey his surroundings.  The room stretched off into the distance, like a landscape.  The walls were so far off he had to squint to make out any detail.   The more he examined them, the less they looked like walls. In fact, the place they met the floor reminded him of the horizon.  The windows seemed oddly blank; light filtered through the foggy glass, but it was a dim and muted glow.  As he looked closer, it struck him.  The light was impossibly pale, so much so that where the beams fell, the colors were washed out rather than illuminated. He looked up, and saw more cakes and toys hanging in the air, drifting aimlessly and occasionally popping into clouds of glitter with a surprisingly muted sound. The ceiling was so high that he half expected birds to be flying overhead.  It didn’t seem solid, either.  It wasn’t moving, exactly, but he couldn’t say that the rafters were still.  The whole thing seemed to shift as he moved, like it was in a different place depending on where he looked.  It started to give him a headache. “So, this is what Pound and Pumpkin Cake see when they dream,” Spike said as took a seat at the edge of the table with his legs hanging over the edge. “I would’ve thought there would’ve been more stuffed animals or toys or something.  Luna said it might be weird, but I was expecting something more babyish.” He sighed. “Where the hay is she, anyway?  She was supposed to tell me what to do.  How am I supposed to save Ponyville if I have no idea what I’m doing?” He waited for Luna to suddenly appear.  She didn’t. “Luna? You there? Anypony?” he called. “You realize that I’m stuck in this dream until you wake me up, right?  Well, I’m sure you know that, but it doesn’t matter if you aren’t around to do anything.” He thought for a moment. “If you can’t get into the dream, but you can hear me, could you at least make a bowl of ice cream appear?  And maybe some fudge, too!  And, you know, a piece of paper with instructions. That would be pretty helpful, too.” Nopony answered. “Ugh.” Spike flopped onto his back and closed his eyes.  If Luna wasn’t going to show up, there wasn’t much else he could do other than pretend to get some shuteye. But now that the surreal view was gone, his ears began to pick up the slack.  There were no sounds that wouldn’t be at home at Sugarcube Corner.  But they were all just the slightest bit off. The sound of the ticking timers from the kitchen echoed far more loudly than they were supposed to in the storefront, and from above he could make out the muddled sound of one of Pinkie’s records.  It was quite out of tune. “Greetings, Spike!” “Gah!” Spike sprung upright with such force that he almost catapulted himself off of the table.  He twisted around as he fell and dug his claws into the wood. “Who’s there!?” he gasped as he dangled over the edge.  He ceased scrambling just long enough to realize that one of the flower patterns that had adorned the side of the cake was replaced by a familiar face. “Oh, it’s just you.” “Were you expecting another?” Luna said. Her face was emblazoned upon the cake in dark blue icing.  Even though it showed in profile, her eye seemed to be staring right at Spike. “And what, pray tell, are you doing?” “Right now?  I’m trying not to fall off the edge of the table because somepony snuck up behind me.” He grunted and pulled himself back to solid tabletop. “And I had no idea who or what to expect from this dream, you know.  It’s not like you told me anything useful about what was going to happen in here.” He clamped his claws together to stop the shaking. “What took you so long, anyway?” “As I said before, the nature of the spell greatly complicates the process of manifesting myself,” she said tersely. Her voice sounded as flat as the frosting pattern she appeared as. “Even using your presence in the dream as an entry point, circumventing its effects proved most difficult.” “Well, at least it worked eventually,” he answered, trying to sound less peeved than he felt. “I was starting to get afraid that you weren’t going to show up at all, and then I’d be stuck here.” “Yes, yes.” She nodded. “In any case, at least that eventually did not actually come to pass. T’would have been most unfortunate. But it is no matter. I have never been one to shy from a challenge.” “Um, it sort of is matter.” Spike said. “It’s really matter! Er, it really matters. what would’ve happened if you couldn’t… you know, make a frosting face for yourself or whatever? Would I just be trapped?” “Until you woke, yes. But fortunately, that did not happen.” She cleared her throat, despite not actually having one. “Now we can put our fine plan into motion!” “Great!” Spike said. “At least, I assume it’s great. I wouldn’t know, since you didn’t tell me exactly what the plan was before sending me out here.” “Ah, yes.  Well, I must admit that I was not entirely certain whether you would be able to enter the dream via this method. There was little point in getting your hopes up if the whole endeavor proved fruitless.” “Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “Of course, if the plan did work and I ended up in the dream I’d have no clue what I was doing. If I knew the step that came after ‘enter dream’ I could’ve been doing something useful while I waited for you to show up.” “You’ve made your point, young dragon,” Luna said with a snort. “Do you want some further explanation or not?” “Of course I want further explanation “Good.” She nodded.  Her mane flowed lethargically in the frosting. “You were able to enter the dream because the two elements of the spell overlap. When you touched Pound and Pumpkin Cake, the spell was still present, and attempted to ensnare you as well.” “And it did, apparently,” Spike muttered. “But it also attempted to trap you in a false dreamscape, which you are immune to. However, because this particular iteration of the spell already had a dreamscape constructed, you were shunted there instead.” “So basically the spell tried to make me fall asleep, and dumped me in the Cake twins’ dream instead, right?” Luna nodded. “You are most astute.” “Then why didn’t you just say that?” He sighed.  He had never gotten many chances to talk to Luna at length.  Even though he was already asleep, it was a bit tiring.  “Listen, the technical specs of the spell are interesting and everything, but I really want to know what I’m supposed to be doing.  It doesn’t really matter how I got in here if I don’t know what to do. Why did you have me come here in the first place?” “Very well.  Our goal is quite simple: find the Cake Twins and stop the spell from leeching off of their magic.” “Great!” Spike clapped his claws giddily. “How do we do that?” “I…” Luna paused for a distressingly long moment, “...am not entirely sure.” Spike stared at her. “What?” “I can say for certain that waking them up, within the dream of course, will prevent the spell from siphoning away their magic, but I do not yet know exactly what method we will have to use to do so.  The spell is almost certainly designed to keep them asleep, and I am not sure what it may take to circumvent those measures. But worry not. I am sure there is a way. We simply must find it.” “And by ‘we’, you mean ‘me’.” Spike pointed at himself. “Since you’re a cake at the moment.” “Verily, I would happily render more direct assistance if it were possible. But alas, it is not.  So yes, for the most part you will be on your own.”   “I kinda figured.” Spike smiled, trying to look more confident than he felt. He cracked his knuckles. “Great. So find the Cake Twins, then report back to you, right?” “Yes.  I could remanifest elsewhere in the dream, but I would rather preserve my magical energy.” “And just to be clear, I can’t” —the word stuck in his throat and he had to force it out— “die.  In the dream, right?” “Of course not.  Dreams, terrifying as they often are, cannot kill you.” “Great! That’s all I needed to hear!” Spike saluted vigorously. “I’ll be back as soon as I find something interesting!” He scurried over to the edge of the table and began to carefully lower himself onto the chair that sat beside it. “Wait!” Luna called after him. “We still have much to discuss!” “Yeah, yeah,” Spike’s voice was faint. “We’ve talked about enough stuff! Don’t worry, I won’t be long!” He dropped from the chair. A few moments later Luna saw him in the distance, jogging towards the enormous kitchen door. She sighed as she watched him grow smaller. “Such foolhardiness. He knows not what he walks into.  This will simply not do.”  She closed her eye, and a moment later she was gone. Spike trundled along at a rate somewhere between a run and a walk.  Being locked in a dream had some upsides.  He couldn’t remember ever being able to go so far without having to stop and catch his breath.  The whole “not dying” thing was pretty convenient too.  Luna should’ve told him that earlier.  Now that he knew, he felt… well, not good, exactly.  The fate of Equestria still hung in the balance and he still didn’t know exactly what was going on.  But at the very least if he failed, it wouldn’t be because he died. He stopped. Not to catch his breath, but to take a quick look around for any signs of the Cakes. A few toys were scattered on the floor, and occasionally a stuffed animal would float overhead like a cloud, but nopony was anywhere to be seen.  What he did see was that his initial assessment of the situation hadn’t been quite accurate.  Everything was too big, obviously, but he couldn’t tell how big. The room itself seemed to be stretching as he approached, or tried to approach, the kitchen door.  The walls had begun to resemble a funhouse mirror, and the windows were subtly misshapen in ways that he was pretty sure shouldn’t even be geometrically possible.  He turned his attention toward his destination. “Oh, come on! That’s just not fair,” he grumbled. The kitchen doorway had barely gotten any closer. In fact, it seemed to get further away the closer he got. The sensation gave him a headache.  He closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn’t as if he was going to run into any— CLONK The blackness of his inner eyelids exploded into stars and he found himself flat on his back, his forehead throbbing.  He staggered back to his feet, and leaned against the doorframe, which was not only right next to him, but was much tinier than it looked. The sudden collision had knocked the door closed.  At least if the doorway was any indication, the size of the kitchen would be more manageable. “Stupid dream physics,” he muttered as he rubbed his head. “Knowing my luck, there’s probably not even anything in there. I’ll probably go through the door and end up in a broom closet or…” His voice trailed off as he heard something.  It was small and soft, but it was undeniably a pony. “Luna?” he called.  He waited a moment for her head to suddenly pop out of the wall.  When she didn’t, he pressed his ear against the door.  He had been wrong. It wasn’t a voice. It was voices.   “Pound and Pumpkin!” he gasped. “Hold on, I’m coming!”  He threw the door open and charged through, this time being careful to duck.  He only took half a dozen steps before he stopped dead in his tracks. “What in the hay happened here?” The kitchen, which was just as wrong-sized as everything else, looked like a war zone.  The table that normally stood in the center had been split in half.  The counters were split, twisted, and warped.  A huge gash in the linoleum floor bisected the room like a canyon. The cupboards on the walls dangled precariously from bent nails, as if a hurricane had tried to tear them down.  The air was hazy and thick with the scent of burning rubber.   The dead, colorless glow that shone in from the cracked windows had gotten, well, he couldn’t say it was brighter. If anything it had gotten paler, and almost sickly. The beams looked like crooked, glowing pillars in the smoke.  He stepped forward carefully, not wanting to touch anything. “What kind of baby has a dream like this?” He stepped over the edge of the curled up edge of the tear in the flooring. The edges of it looked blackened and crinkled with heat, and it stood nearly as tall as he did.  “Pound? Pumpkin?  Anypony? Is any— ew!” He looked down and found that his foot was smack in the middle of a patch of thick, rainbow-colored goo.  He tried to step back, but his foot refused to come free.  “Oh come on, what is this stuff?” He tugged again.  “Is this tar? Why would this even be here?” Then he heard it. It was the voices, and naturally they were behind him. He contorted his body around and craned his neck.  He smiled.  Of course; the Cakes had a playpen in the corner of the kitchen, behind the decorating counter.  He could just make out the corner of it, and through the mesh he could make out the shapes of two foals huddled together in the corner under a blanket.  They looked very small. “Pound! Pumpkin!” he shouted. “Hold on, I’ll be right there!” He waggled his leg, trying to get it free of the mess. “Just as soon as I get myself unstuck from this—” His thought was interrupted by an explosion of noise, a piercing screech of metal on metal. It was the sound of a machine, a machine inside which something had gone horribly wrong. He twisted himself around.  A clanging mass of steel levers, gears, and bars rattled towards him, leaving patches of oil and multicolored sludge in its wake. Spike froze for a moment while his brain processed the fact that in ten seconds or so, the machine would quite literally be on top of him. “GAHHH!” He shouted and pulled as hard as he could. The goop that engulfed his foot stretched, but didn’t break. He reached down and began to claw at his foot.  His fingers sunk into the goo. “No no no!” His heart pounded in his chest as the whirling metal bored down on him.  Then a thought punched itself into his mind. There was only one option left. He took a deep breath and blasted the goop with the strongest flame he could muster. It resisted for a moment, then blackened and cracked as the heat did its work. He wrenched himself backward one last time, and his foot came free with a pop.  He somersaulted backward and landed flat on his back.  As he raised his head, the storm of metal roared past him, one of the flailing steel bars just barely clipping the tip of his spines.   He sighed in relief.  Then he inhaled sharply as he heard the thing screech. It had ground to a stop.  A chill ran down his spine as he saw it begin to turn.  It was coming around for another attack. “AAHHH!” He leaped to his feet and began to run. Behind him, he could hear the tangle of struts and levers picking up speed.  He didn’t want to look back to see how quickly it was gaining.  He’d never make it back to the door. He swallowed and ran full tilt towards the table in the center of the room, the one that the cakes used for decorating. He gritted his teeth and leaped onto one of the table legs, clawing his way upward.  He was barely halfway up when the machine smashed into it. The table shook, but his grip held.  He reached the top of the table and forced himself to look over the edge. Fortunately, the machine’s pursuit hadn’t followed him up the side of the table.  Whatever it was, it couldn’t climb.  He sighed in relief again, and this time it wasn’t interrupted. He flopped down on his back and stared up into the haze. “What am I supposed to do now?” he mumbled. Obviously, he needed to get out of the kitchen and report back to Luna, but how could he?  If he jumped off the table, he’d be ground to paste by… he didn’t even know what it was or why it was there.  Would he be stuck here until that thing went off somewhere else? He still hear the squeal of rusted gears as they tried to turn, and the sharp hiss of leaking hydraulics below. He cautiously crept to the edge of the table and peeked over.  Now that it was no longer charging at him, he could get a better look at it. It didn’t help. It looked a bit like a very large canister or tank, but there was a gap in the middle where a bunch of metal bars showed through. They were rotating slowly.  The entire thing was misshapen and dented; the inner moving parts clanged and grated against each other as they continued to turn, ignoring the damage.  Oddly, that same rainbow goop that had nearly glued Spike too the floor seemed to be oozing slowly out of the gap in the metal plating. “That thing doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere any time soon,” he muttered as he paced slowly along the edge of the table, keeping his eye focused on the machine.  “None of this makes any sense.  Why would Pound and Pumpkin dream about a giant machine that’s trying to kill everything?  Well, at least this makes sense.” At the far end of the table was a place of chocolate cupcakes, which were each as tall as he was.  He scooped out a handful of cake. “I guess I won’t— WHOA!” A crash echoed through the kitchen.  Spike was thrown on his back as the table pitched underneath him.  He landed on his back with a thud. “Ugh…” he put a claw on his forehead. “What the hay?” He rolled over and scrambled to the edge of the table on his hands and knees.  The leg of the table he had climbed now bore an enormous dent; the edges of which were beginning to splinter.  The machine hauled itself a short distance away, leaving a trail of scratches and rainbow splotches behind it.  He watched in horror as it ground to a halt.  “Uh oh…”  He braced himself as it barreled towards the table once more. “Gah!” The table rocked back and then landed back on the floor with a thud.  The cupcake plate rattled beside him. “At least I can’t die,” He muttered as he dug his claws into the edge of the table. “That’s something, I guess.” The machine slammed into the table again. The impact lifted Spike slightly off the table.  He landed flat on his face. He groaned. “But I can still feel pain?” He suddenly felt like he had been impaled with an icicle. “I thought you aren’t supposed to be able to feel pain in dreams! If that thing gets me…” He pushed the thought out of his head. “Great. Just great.” He watched as the machine lined itself up for another charge. “I don’t know how things could get any better.” “Really? I can think of several ways that this situation could improve,” said a voice from behind him. “Wha!?” He looked back to find Luna glaring at him. This time, her head was made of chocolate, sitting on top of one of the cupcakes. “Do you do that on purpose?” he gasped, putting one claw to his chest.  “Why didn’t you tell me that I’d still be able to feel pain in a dream? That’s kind of important!” “I would have, had you not rushed off in such haste,” Luna said. It reminded Spike of all the times Twilight had chided him for not paying attention. “Of course you can feel pain.  All physical responses are processed by the brain, whether in sleep or wakefulness.  Though in natural sleep the sensation would typically wake you up.  However, in this specific circumstance—” “That’s fascinating,” Spike interrupted, “but I’d rather just try to avoid the pain in the first place!” The machine smashed into the table again.  The cupcake platter rattled, and Luna’s chocolate head slipped to the side a little. “And let me guess, you were going to warn me about that thing too?” “Well, not that specifically,” Luna said. “Just of the general danger.” “What is it?” “Like the rest of the dream, it is a memory. And like the rest of the dream, it is somewhat distorted by the perspective of the dreamer.  No doubt you’ve noticed that the relative sizes of the locations and items within this dream are quite disproportionate—” “Of course I noticed. How could I miss it?” Spike snapped, trying to keep one eye on Luna and one eye on the machine, which was getting ready for yet another charge. “Everything looks weird because it’s all baby memories, right?” “That is the most succinct way of putting it, yes.” “Good. Now that we have that figured out, why don’t you tell me how we can wake up the Cake Twins and get out of this dream before that thing turns me into mush!?” Luna stared pensively off into space, disregarding the angry contraption’s attempts to upset the table.  “You will have to defeat it, of course.” “What!?” Spike’s voice squeaked as he choked out the word. “Defeat it!?  How am I supposed to do anything to” —it slammed into the table again, this time so hard that the plate of cupcakes slid a few inches to the side— “that!” “Yes, that will be quite the challenge,” Luna said calmly.  Spike wondered if she was really that unruffled or if she was simply very good at maintaining her composure. “But it is not impossible.  Everything in this place, save for you and I, has its origins in the memories of the Cake Twins. We simply need to determine which memory that machine is derived from.” “Can’t we just, you know, go around it?” Spike asked, pantomiming the action. “And not fight the machine? I think that would be easier. I thought our mission was to free them, not fight that thing!” “Fighting it is how we will free them.  It seems that machine is the manifestation of the spell within the dream. Only by destroying it can they be released from the spell.  Its purpose is to keep them trapped and—” It smashed into the side of the table so hard that Luna’s cupcake was airborne for a moment.  The plate clattered back down, on the very edge of the tabletop. “And it’s trying to get rid of me!” Spike shouted. “How in Equestria am I supposed to get rid of it!?” “Just remember that it is a memory that is based on a real thing,” Luna said. She was still composed, but Spike couldn’t help but notice that she was speaking much faster.  Her chocolate eyes darted to the edge of the table. “You must discover what memory it is based upon and use that knowledge to your advantage.  It is a reflection of a true occurrence, and that is what holds the key to—” The machine struck the table with such force that Spike had to grab the edge of the table to keep from sliding down.   “Princess Luna!” Spike looked back over his shoulder just in time to see the plate, the cupcakes, and Luna topple over the edge.  There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of shattering ceramic.  The table slammed back to the floor.  Spike leaped up and hurried over to where Luna had fallen.  He could see the smear of smashed cupcakes under the shards of the broken plate, and nothing else. “Princess Luna! Are you alright?” He didn’t get an answer. “Okay okay okay,” he muttered to himself. “Luna’s fine. She has to be. She’s not really here. That was just a representation or whatever.  She’ll probably pop out of the floor or something in a minute or two.” He heard a metallic groan. “I just wish I had a minute or two.” He braced himself for impact.  The table would be overturned, if not on this attack, probably on the next one.  And then there’d be nothing between him and the machine.  And he was still no closer to knowing how to destroy it.  The table shivered as the machine slammed into it.  Then it began to fall.  He clung to the edge as it tipped, somehow managing to hold on as it crashed to the floor, leaving him dangling from the edge. He clawed his way upward, straddling the edge of the table.  He looked down just in time to see the mass of angry metal ram into his perch one final time. The force threw him off, and he found himself falling.  He grabbed at the now-vertical tabletop in a futile attempt to slow his descent.  The wood splintered off as he tried to dig his claws in, sending a rain of wood chips into his face. “Oof!” He landed with a splat. “Oh. Whew.” The splat had come not from his body, but from the mass of cupcake he had landed in.  He had barely finished exhaling when the machine roared around the upset table.  “GAH!”  Before he even had time to think, his legs were carrying him in the other direction. Think, Spike, think! You have to figure out what that thing is! What the hay could’ve inspired them to dream about that thing?  He looked back over his shoulder. The machine paused its pursuit just long enough to fling a glob of psychedelic goo in his direction.  Spike could feel the breeze as it whizzed past his head.  What the- that smell! I’ve smelled that before.  Luna’s words echoed in his head. A memory, she had said.  Something the Cake twins had been through. If the scent was any indication it was something familiar. I thought that smell was supposed to be really good at jogging your memory! That’s what Twilight always says! He darted around the corner of one of the counters and pressed his body against it, hoping that the machine wouldn’t be able to find him. “Okay, okay…” He tried to breathe slowly. It was surprisingly easy.  Apparently dream bodies didn’t get winded. He’d have to remember that.  “I know I’ve smelled that before, but I can’t think of where!  It’s gotta be something recent, or it probably wouldn’t be here!  But where did I see—” The cupboard erupted in a hail of splinters just above his head. He scrambled forward as the machine tore through the wood.  Nothing is going to stop that thing! He darted along the counter. At the very least maybe the thing would get slowed down. Another sound suddenly rang in his ears. What? That’s not the machine!  That’s a voice.  He looked up.  His path was taking him straight towards the playpen. It was as large as a room, and the Cake twin looked even tinier than they truly were.  The pair huddled against each other in the far corner of the pen, wailing as they tried to hide from the cacophony. Spike gritted his teeth. This is a nightmare for them, he thought. I have to get them out of here. I can’t let them keep getting terrorized by that thing. He ducked as it shot a gob of rainbow goop over his head. I just have to figure out what it is!  He wove back and forth to avoid the projectiles that the machine spat at him. I can’t just keep running. Even if I never get tired, I’m never going to be able to get away from—  “Gah!”A particularly large gob splattered on the wall beside him. “Ew!”  He clawed at the drop of goo that had smacked him on the side of the head. “Gross! I even got some in my” —he licked at the side of his mouth— “Wait a minute, this stuff is sweet!  And fruity!” He smacked himself in the forehead.  The machine had been shooting clues at him this whole time. The answer had been staring him in the face this whole time.  He paused just long enough to glance at his pursuer. This time he recognized it. Now that he knew the answer, he wanted to kick himself for not figuring it out sooner. The smell should’ve tipped him off, but the taste had made it impossible not to recognize it.  Tutti Frutti was his favorite flavor of Sugarcube Corner taffy, after all.  He grinned. The machine barely seemed frightening at all now that he knew it was a taffy machine.  The pieces began to fall into place.   He had heard Pinkie telling Twilight about it.  Something in the taffy machine had come loose, and it had made a mess of the kitchen. Ever since then the Cake Twins had been afraid to go into the kitchen.  And now they were having a nightmare about it. The machine was a monster, the clanging was its roars, and the taffy it had undoubtedly covered the kitchen with was its weapon.  As far as weapons went, it wasn’t too intimidating. I should be able to beat a taffy machine.  It can’t be that dangerous. As if in answer, the machine tore through the corner of the counter as it came after him. “Whoa!” Spike dove out of the way as it hurled an enormous glob of taffy in his direction. “Or not.” He made a beeline for the steel prep table at the far end of the kitchen.  If that thing catches me, I’m going to be taffy, he thought.  He reached the table and scrambled up the table leg.  The machine caught up just as he reached the top. The room echoed with the clang of metal on metal, but the table held firm. Should’ve climbed up here first, he thought. And this time I’m not letting myself get trapped.  The taffy machine lobbed a clump of taffy the size of Spike’s head upward.  He scampered out of the way as it splattered down. “Well, that’s not good.” He watched as it launched another projectile.  It didn’t land anywhere near him. “And neither is its aim.”  A third taffy bomb landed, and an unpleasant thought hammered into Spike’s brain like a nail. It’s trying to coat the table in taffy.   Another sticky explosion landed on the table.  Nearly half the tabletop was coated in a layer of candy. If I get hit by one of those things, I’m done for!  There’s no way I’ll be able to burn through all of that! What am I supposed to do? He made for the far end of the table as the barrage continued.   There’s nothing here to work with!  My fire breath isn’t going strong enough to reach it from here!  How does Luna expect me to do anything!? The next projectile landed so close that a drop of taffy landed on his arm. How does knowing that it’s a taffy machine help me!?  How do you fight a machine?  It doesn’t have any weak points, and it’s not like it has an emergency shutoff switch!  There’s no way it could be that easy.  Could it? He poked his head over the edge of the table. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouted to no one in particular.  On the side of the machine, protruding out like the weak point of a video game boss, was a large, red, and distressingly conspicuous lever. “How did I not notice that!?  I’m such an idiot.  I guess I just need to hit that switch.” The table shivered another another impact.  He heard a metallic rattling from beneath him, and it wasn’t from the taffy machine. He peered over the edge of the table.  Dangling from hooks on the side of the table were a row of metal spoons.  Spike glanced from the spoons, to the machine, to the switch.  All he had left was one tiny corner of the table.  It’s now or never, I guess. He reached down and snatched up one of the spoons.  I’ve only got one shot at this. If I miss, I’m… I’m not going to think about that.  Everypony needs you, and that’s what matters! “Eat spoon!” he shouted, not bothering to think about how ridiculous he sounded. “This is for the Cakes!” He hurled the spoon like a javelin.  It flew through the air, straight towards the gap in the machine’s armor.  The world moved in slow motion for a moment as Spike watched it land squarely in the gap. There was a clank and a hiss as the gears inside tried to turn, only to catch on the steel utensil. Spike took a deep breath. No taffy machine is going to stand between me and saving my friends. “And this is for Equestria!” He sprinted towards the edge of the table and launched himself off the edge.  For a moment he felt like he was flying, and the next thing he knew he was landing on the handle of the spoon.  He slid down the handle and landed with a hollow thump on the side of the machine.  As his feet touched down, the machine tried to twist out from under him.  It was too late.  The spoon began to buckle, but it was enough. Spike launched himself forward, latching onto the power switch with both claws. His momentum carried him past the switch, but his grip held as his whole body weight pulled on the lever.  It held firm for just long enough for his heart to skip a beat.  Then the switch flipped with a loud click.  The taffy machine vibrated for a second, and then was still. For what seemed like an eternity, Spike kept his claws clamped on the off switch. “I… I did it!” His claws shook as he slowly took them off the level. The machine didn’t move.  It was so still that it was hard to believe it had ever moved. “I did it!” Spike punched the air triumphantly. “Eat that, taffy machine!  No way a candy machine is gonna take down a drag-Whoa!” He toppled from his perch atop his defeated foe and landed with a thump. “Okay, that’s enough celebration,” he mumbled as he picked himself up and jogged briskly towards the playpen. “Pound and Pumpkin need to be freed from the spell! I’m not sure exactly how to do that, but now that I don’t have a rogue taffy machine trying to kill me, I’ve got plenty of time to figure it out!”   He smiled as he approached the pen.  Through the thin mesh he could see Pound and Pumpkin curled up in their blankets, sleeping serenely.  “I hope I don’t have to wake them up.  Although, that’s kinda what we were trying to do.  Or did we just want to wake them up literally?  Or figuratively?” He shrugged. “This would be easier if there weren’t like three different ways of waking up.  I’ll have to ask Luna about it.  Or at least figure out where she went.  Probably shouldn’t mess around with the babies until I find her.” He turned and surveyed the kitchen.  The pale, color-draining light was brightening into warm, golden beams.  Even though the place was still a mess, it already looked a lot more home-y. It was still bigger than it had any right to be, but it was a different kind of bigness. It had the same sort of grandeur that Spike felt whenever he stood in the Great Hall of the Princess’ castle.  Before the place had just felt like a cave.  A cave with floating toys, but a cave nonetheless. “Mmmph!” “Huh?” Spike’s ears perked up. “Who’s there?” He turned. The sound was unmistakably a voice, and it seemed to be coming from the pile of smashed cupcakes beside the upturned table. “Luna? Is that you?”  He hurried over to the heap of debris and began digging through it. “Are you in there? Are you alright?” “I am fine,” came Luna’s muffled voice. “I assume that you were victorious?” “Of course! What did you expect?” Spike asked. He reached under the large shard of plate that the voice seemed to be coming from under. “Huzzah!” “Gotcha!” Spike said. He shoved the shard away with his foot as he pulled her out from under it. “There you go.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing. He was holding her upside down, and one of his thumbs was firmly planted in her eye. “Whoops.” “Pay it no mind,” she said as he turned her upright. Her entire head was a bit misshapen from the fall, and her right eye had an unfortunate dent now, but she didn’t seem to have noticed.  “This is only my avatar in this dreamscape. As damaged as it may be, I myself am unharmed.” “That’s good to know.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “So, uh, now that we found Pound and Pumpkin, what exactly should we do with them?” He nodded towards the playpen. “It seems to me that they are doing quite well.” “I thought we were going to break them out of the spell’s control.” “We’ve done that. Or rather, I suppose I should say that you have,” she said. “That machine was the representation of the spell within the dream, remember? With it gone, they are more or less free from its clutches.” “Really?” “Yes. They are likely not lucid yet, but there is really no need for them to be so. The spell is no longer leeching magic off of them, and the nightmare is not troubling them.  The important thing is that we have established the nature of the spell and how it can be combated.  Now all that remains is to continue freeing ponies from the spell’s sphere of influence in order to weaken it.” “Oh yeah, I’m sure doing this another dozen times won’t be hard at all,” Spike grumbled. “I barely managed to pull it off this time.” “You performed most admirably,” Luna said. “As a matter of fact, you exceeded my expectations.” “Really?” “Certainly.  I had thought that discovering and exploiting a weakness would take you far longer.” “Oh.” The rush of pride Spike had felt deflated like a balloon. “Well, it’s not like I haven’t ever done any hero work, you know.  I did save the Crystal Empire.” “Yes. Though by your own admission it was more luck than anything else.  But accidental or not, you accomplished your mission.” Luna’s good eye looked Spike over. “Though you do seem to have gotten yourself covered in… toffee, was it?  I must admit that this confection is not something I am familiar with.” “Taffy. It’s called taffy. Once we’re done here, I’m sure Pinkie will make a bunch of it for you.”  Spike turned Luna’s head around so she couldn’t keep staring at her. “Now what do we do?” “Go on to the next dream of course. Though before we go I would like to examine the remnants of this machine. It may give me more insight into the workings of the spell.  It certainly seems that the machine was the key to breaking it.” “Things do look a bit more dreamlike,” Spike admitted. The light looked almost normal now, so normal that he could hardly remember what it had looked like five minutes earlier.  The air was still hazy, but the haze was more bright and ephemeral, like a foggy sunrise. “Indeed. That is what worries me,” Luna said. “It seems as though the spell not only utilized the memories of the dream, but somehow exaggerated them.  Using the substance of the dream is one thing. Manipulating it to one’s own ends is something else entirely.  An independent instance of the spell should not be able to do such a thing.” “Wait, you mean you’re saying that the spell is doing something it shouldn’t be able to do.” “I am saying that under normal circumstances, manipulating a dream in that matter require someone to do the manipulating.” Luna’s eyes narrowed. “You may have vanquished your foe, but we would be wise to be cautious.” “Whatever you say.” Spike slowed his walk to a shuffle. “You’re the expert.  It does look a bit… creepy.” As he approached the machine, he couldn’t help but notice that it still looked off. The weird, colorless aura that had pervaded the dream still surrounded the debris. “It appears that the spell still seems to have a localized effect,” Luna said. “Just a moment. I will see if I can use my magic to analyze it.  I may be silent for a few moments.  It should not be long.” Her eyes closed, and Spike could tell that her head was now just a lump of chocolate. He resisted the urge to take a bite out of her ear and turned his attention to the machine.  Her analysis spell, whatever it was, seemed to be working. The remnants glowed slightly and began to tremble.  Then it jolted, and the air was filled with the sound of a loud hiss. “Whoa!” Spike leaped backwards as the thing shook violently, so much so that it looked like the metal plates were coming apart.  Then it began to smoke. Or at least it looked like it; black, greasy, fumes began to pour out from the gaps in the metal, congealing into a single cloud of darkness.  He hugged Luna’s head to his chest and tried not to shake as he watched it.  It didn’t look right.  It was too rough around the edges, like someone had scribbled it into the air with a piece of charcoal.   It turned.  It had a face.  A face that churned and flowed like a cloud, but was unmistakably a face.  Two eyes, glowing dimly like dying embers, turned toward him.  He took a step back. He wanted to turn and run, but he couldn’t turn his back on the thing that was hovering in front of him.   Then it screamed. Or at least, it sounded like the sound that a ball of congealed darkness would make if it screamed.  It twisted in the air and began to shrink, as if it were being sucked into an invisible drain. He watched in horror as it collapsed in on itself until it was almost nothing.  With a final pop, it disappeared in a flash of pale light.  He stared at the empty air where the darkness had hung.  He could almost see the eyes still there, staring into him. “Spike.” He slowly looked down, his claws shaking as they held Luna’s head.  She looked up at him. “Spike, are you alright?” He nodded dumbly. “Good. It seems that things have just become a good deal more complicated.” “What…” His voice cracked. “What was that thing?” “That,” Luna said grimly,” was a Nightmare.”