//------------------------------// // Act IV-II // Story: A New Sun Rises // by CommissarAJ //------------------------------// I was in quite the surreal emotional state by the time I arrived at MacDougal’s. On the one hand, the sense of anger and indignation over my spat with Luna was still scratching away at my mind like a stubborn itch beneath, threatening to drive me insane. How anyone can act so self-righteous after allowing a grease fire to break loose was beyond me. However, I didn’t want to descend into blaming Luna for every raw deal that’s happened, or otherwise things would never change. Pointing fingers may have felt cathartic, but it was rarely constructive. Contesting those frustrations was the sense of anticipation of Twilight’s arrival. It was a mixture of excitement and trepidation, like a kid on their first day of school. It wasn’t the first time I had met somebody for a meal at a MacDougal’s, I did date Flash Sentry after all, but it was the first time I had done so of my own volition. And it was with Twilight Sparkle, of all people: a person whom I should have been avoiding for a number of reasons that my rational mind still liked to remind me about. But I didn’t care about rationality; I didn’t care that Twilight Sparkle might have been one ‘Eureka’ away from discovering Equestria and throwing the entire cosmic balance of the universe out of alignment. I was, like many young teenagers, riding high on a sense of euphoria, unconcerned with the possible consequences and thought myself invincible. Were I more astute, I might’ve remembered what happened the last time I threw caution to the wind. It wasn’t until well after I had arrived at MacDougal’s that the gravity of the situation began to sink into the anger-brewing cauldron of my mind. This would technically be the first time Twilight and I had gotten together intentionally rather than by fortuitous coincidence. MacDougal’s wouldn’t normally be my first choice, but I hadn’t the luxury of ample time to prepare or consider alternate venues. I didn’t even remember to bring enough money to offer to pay for her meal, which seemed impolite given that I had invited her out. She was my friend, though, and this is what friends did, right? As I sat in the back corner of the restaurant, glancing to the nearby door every time I heard it open, a tiny worry began to gnaw at my mind. As I still knew little about friendship, I began to wonder if spontaneous dinner dates at a MacDougal’s might have sent the wrong message or come off as cheap and pathetic. The lack of a car and funding limited my options for life outside of the school. Those worries and concerns began to fall to the wayside when I heard the nearby door opening, and was greeted to the reassuring sight of my friend. She didn’t look either angry or annoyed to be here, and when she saw me waving at her, a smile was sent back my way. I felt my smile brighten, and if it had grown any more brilliant, I would’ve blinded passing airplanes. My elation soon gave way to surprise and confusion, as Twilight entered the restaurant carrying with her a large dufflebag as well as pulling along a plastic bin mounted on wheels. Rarity was typically the one who traveled with an ensemble of baggage, though I suspected that Twilight wasn’t hauling the latest in autumn fashion. “Hey Sunset, sorry I’m a little late,” Twilight apologized as she set her bag down on the table. The heavy, resonating thump it made against the table made me even more curious as to what she had brought with her. “Is there a power outlet nearby? I have to plug a few things in.” “I think there’s one by your feet,” I said while gesturing downward. “And there’s no need to apologize; I only just got here myself.” That was a lie; I had been waiting for close to half-an-hour by that point, but I didn’t want to make Twilight feel bad. I was already starting to feel guilty about dragging Twilight out here when she, apparently, was already preoccupied, a fact made evident as I watched her unpack. She began taking out all manner of gadgets and tools, including an excessive number of cords and power bars. I would’ve offered some help, but I was so hopelessly lost in comprehending the mess in front of me, I would’ve had more luck trying to set the clock on an old VCR machine. Despite the sense of confusion, there was an accompanying sense of intrigue when I started looking at some of the items more closely. There were a number of tools and devices for scanning and analyzing, some of which I easily recognized while others looked as though they had been fitted together in somebody’s basement. Finally I just asked what had been plaguing my mind. “What’s with the mobile laboratory?” “Oh no, this isn’t the mobile lab. This is the workshop,” Twilight corrected me between plugging in cables. “Well, half of it, actually. I was in the middle of some work when you texted me, but I figured I could do both at the same time. You don’t mind, do you?” “No, of course not,” I insisted. “I’d hate to be responsible for interrupting your work. To be honest, I was more worried that I’d be interrupting your dinner or something with your family.” “I usually have late dinners,” Twilight explained. Once she had most of her things unpacked, she slipped into the seat across from me and immediately started working. Or at least, I presumed it was work since I couldn’t quite make sense of what she was doing. “My parents were surprisingly supportive. They practically shoved me out of the house, and told me to call if I needed a ride home.” I imagined with her inactive social life, Twilight’s parents relished any opportunity to get her out of the house. “I guess that answers my concern about whether your parents were okay with this or not.” “My dad literally threw his wallet at me as I left,” my friend replied while holding up the aforementioned item. “At least that’s a good sign of his trust,” I said while trying to avoid laughing too loudly. “You could treat yourself to something nice now.” Twilight looked at the wallet with visible apprehension, which was surprising to me since most people I knew wouldn’t think twice about helping themselves to everything in their parent’s wallet if given the opportunity. “I better not,” she eventually said while grabbing a couple of small bills. “Money is tight enough at home as it is.” “Really?” I blurted out without realizing how inappropriate it might be to intrude with this line of questioning. “But you go to a fancy private school and everything.” I regretted my poor self-control immediately upon seeing my friend’s mood take a downward turn. I might not have been getting much better at friendship, but I sure was improving my aim when it came to putting my foot in my mouth—didn’t even need to aim at this point. She let out a disheartened sigh as guilt anchored her gaze to the tabletop. “That’s exactly the reason why,” she explained. “Even with them both working, the tuition costs for Crystal Heart barely leaves them with anything left over. I mean, they try to tell me that we don’t have money problems, but I’ve seen the bills and I can do the math.” “Doesn’t Crystal Heart have scholarships and such?” I was almost certain of this fact because I recalled a number of occasions where Gilda insisted that I could get a ‘free ride’ into Crystal Heart. It was more than likely that I was being misled, but to what degree was the question. “They do, and I’ve got some, but they’re only enough to make going to Crystal Heart even remotely feasible for my parents,” Twilight continued. “I’ve even got an arrangement with Head Master Sombra that they’ll reduce my tuition costs if I can win academic competitions for the school. I try to do what I can, but it’s not always enough.” A sense of guilt stemming from the burdens she has placed upon others—now why did that sound so familiar? Hers might have had a more easily quantifiable value attached to it, but the guilt was the same as mine. For both of us, just going to school was taking a toll upon those who cared for us. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it felt like Crystal Heart was worth paying all that money for,” she added, followed by a disappointed sigh. Now that remark caught me by surprise to the point where my instinctive ‘shocked gasp’ caused me to almost inhale my drinking straw. After a few violent coughs, I managed to pull the offending object out of my larynx and blurted out, “Not worth it? I thought it was the best school in the entire district.” “It is,” she answered, although in an unconvincing fashion, as she slumped over and rested her chin in her hands. “I mean, it’s supposed to be, but I’m not really challenged by the curriculum. I’m getting top marks and acing my tests just as I was back in my old school.” Given how many times I had done assignment and homework for her classmates, particularly Gilda, I could understand how someone as gifted as Twilight could feel bored by her schoolwork. It would also explain why she’s undertaken this extra research project, if only to offer something of a challenge to her mind. If idle hands were the devil’s playthings, imagine what an idle mind could do. “The other students don’t help much either,” Twilight continued in a low grumble. “The Headmaster really fosters a competitive environment, so that just leads to everyone trying to one-up each other. I swear, half of them are buying their answers online these days.” “Oh, that’s just awful,” I answered with a nervous chuckle. Thank goodness there was still one person in the world I could lie to and get away with it. “Some days I wonder if Crystal Heart is the best place for me, but I don’t want to disappoint everyone after they’ve worked so hard to give me the chance to go,” my friend lamented. She was looking more forlorn by the minute, which was beginning to worry me. “There’s nothing wrong with Crystal Heart; it’s just… I know there’s more that’s out there.” I knew what it felt like when you yearned for something more fulfilling, but before I could say anything to comfort my friend, I heard the most peculiar noise. At first it was only just loud enough to catch my notice, and it took a few more moments of listening before I realized that it sounded lyrical, almost like a guitar lead-in. “Where’s that music coming from?” I asked to nobody in particular. Twilight looked equally perplexed before a shameful realization dawned upon her. “Oh, right! That’s my phone,” she said before reaching into her bag. “That unfamiliar with the concept of people calling you, eh?” I couldn’t help but throw out that quick tease, if only to help offset the recent air of negativity. It seemed to work as Twilight responded with a sarcastic smirk, “Oh very funny, Sunset,” she replied. The call consisted of a quick string of terse replies, mostly of the ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and ‘it’s okay’ variety. The impatient pace made it sound like Twilight wanted out of the conversation as quickly as possible, though I didn’t know the cause until after she hung up. “That was Shining Armour,” she answered without prompting, “apparently my parents mentioned this outing to him.” It probably would’ve been a bit too rude to laugh, so I had to make do with a restrained snickering. “Maybe they’ll put out a newsletter next,” I remarked. My reward was a brief and sheepish giggle from my friend. “What am I doing?” Twilight suddenly blurted out, followed by a swift slap to her forehead. “I came out here because you wanted somebody to talk to, not so you can listen to me ramble on about my problems.” “Except now I’m going to feel bad because my problems don’t seem nearly as bad when compared to yours,” I replied. I gave a quick smirk to let Twilight know I wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty, but financial strains seemed like a real, tangible problem that was worth worrying about. In contrast, a spat with an ornery woman felt like complaining about the rain while your neighbour’s house was on fire. “Oh. Glad I could help then, I think,” she replied with a confused stare. After we shared a quick laugh, we went and bought some food. As it turned out, this world’s Twilight liked big, greasy burgers to a surprising degree. I actually found it almost hilarious to watch her eat. She was about as messy with her food as she was with personal grooming, which made me thankful that I had grabbed a lot of napkins. When she asked me why I was laughing, I had to pretend it was nothing despite how much her feeding frenzy reminded me of how dinners sometimes went back in Equestria. “Wow, you never realize how hungry you are until you start eating,” Twilight commented between mouthfuls. She wasn’t understating either, as I was still grazing on my fries when she began her second burger. “So what happened today that was so terrible? I remember your first text message today said something about running late for class.” “It wasn’t the lateness,” I answered as I tried to not allow the memory to sour my mood. “I mean, being late to class didn’t help things. It’s just that Luna keeps treating me like I’m some delinquent just because I got into a little bit of trouble at school, which totally wasn’t my fault either.” “Who’s Luna?” Twilight’s question caught me off-guard despite it being such a simple inquiry. I had been so worked up over my dispute with Luna that I hadn’t even stopped to think how I would explain my homelife to Twilight. I couldn’t answer that I happened to live with my principal and vice-principal because that would just raise even more questions. I considered Twilight Sparkle my friend, but I wasn’t confident enough in that friendship to feel safe revealing the darker parts of my past. “She’s… a friend of the family,” I replied with the safest-sounding answer I could muster on short notice. It wasn’t entirely wrong as she was a kind of like a friend of the family—it’s just that I was the only member of said family. “She’s looking after me for the weekend, but we don’t really get along.” “How so?” Twilight asked, driven by her insatiable curiosity. Even though thinking about Luna was likely making my blood pressure jump up a few notches, some fresh perspective might help me figure out a solution for the long term. Or at least a solution that didn’t require a shovel and a large, abandoned field. I tried my best to explain what happened today without getting into too many details about certain events, but it was hard to explain why Luna mistrusted me without explaining the whole ‘raging she-demon’ episode and the events that surrounded it. “And that’s when the frying pan caught on fire. The argument fell apart immediately afterwards,” I said to conclude my recount of the past few hours. “A few text messages later and here we are.” For her part, Twilight had remained quiet during my explanation. Though she divided her time between her food and tinkering with her project, I could tell that she was taking in every word. “She sounds a little biased if you ask me,” Twilight commented. “She certainly seems to know a lot about your past activities.” “Well, she might also be the, um… vice-principal at my school,” I admitted after some hesitation. “Back when I used to be a bully, we had a lot of run-ins.” “Sounds awfully personal to me.” “Obviously!” I exclaimed. “That woman hates my guts, and would probably dance in joy to see me locked away for the rest of my life.” “That sounds like a bit of a hyperbole,” Twilight remarked. “Now psychology isn’t one of my strong suits, but if you ask me, it sounds like your transgressions are aggravating some pre-existing stressor.” As I had a mouth full of french fries at the moment, all I could do to express my confusion was peak an eyebrow at my friend. “You think there’s something else that’s bothering her?” I asked once I was able to. Twilight shrugged, taking a cautious approach as to avoid saying anything with absolute certainty. “From what you’ve described, I don’t think she hates you specifically. I mean, it sounds like she wants you to be a better person, too, just not in the way it’s currently being handled. If she really hated you, she’d want you gone for the sake of being gone.” I mulled over what Twilight said in silence, save for the quiet slurping as I drained the last of my cola. Perhaps there was some underlying issue that I was unaware of. We had been able to be in the same room without arguing in the past, so why was this weekend so much worse? It must’ve had something to do with whatever business Celestia had with the school board. Maybe the financial strain was worse than either of them were telling me. “I’m sorry that I’m not exactly providing anything useful. People skills aren’t really a strong suit of mine… as you’ve probably guessed,” Twilight commented to break the silence. It wasn’t until she spoke that I realized that I had been stewing in my silence and chewing on the end of my straw for close to five minutes now. She must’ve misinterpreted my silence for disapproval. “No, no! You’ve actually given me a lot to think about,” I hastily replied. Unfortunately, Twilight did not look convinced of this. Perhaps I had been too quick to insist otherwise that I sounded insincere. “You know what, let’s just stop fussing over our problems and talk about something better.” “Such as?” “How about this?” I asked as I gestured to her array of scattered tools and parts. “What exactly are you working on? This doesn’t look like the kind of stuff that Crystal Heart would assign to a student.” “It’s for my research: the strange energy readings, remember?” Twilight informed me. “I’ve been hitting a few roadblocks when it comes to tracking and analyzing sources, and that’s because my geiger counter just doesn’t have the capacity to resolve between different types of energizing particles.” “Too many false positives?” I replied. She nodded and then adjusted her glasses, leaving a ketchup smear across the tip of her nose. “I thought I had found a good lead a few days ago, but then it turned out somebody had thrown out a bunch of old ceramics.” “Mind if I take a look at it?” I asked. “Go ahead. Just be careful with it.” I hefted up the incomplete device, which turned out to be a fair bit heavier than it appeared at first glance. The rear panel was off and a bunch of wires and circuits hung out of the back, though it was hard for me to make sense of Twilight’s engineering. Would this device actually do what Twilight says it does and accurately pinpoint magical energies? If anybody else had been trying to construct such a device, I would’ve dismissed any real concern, but Twilight Sparkle was persistent, if nothing else. I glanced up to Twilight and asked, “Are you sure this is safe?” “Of course. I mean, it’s not going to explode. Or at least, I’m pretty sure it won’t.” I was confident that it wouldn’t either, especially given that its power source appeared to be the battery from an old cell phone, but the device wasn’t what I had been asking about. “I meant, is it safe to be poking around at strange energies? You have no idea what it is or what it could do.” “Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” she replied as though I had pointed out something painfully obvious. “I mean, how can I ever hope to understand it if I don’t try to take a closer look?” “It could be dangerous.” It likely wasn’t, but if I oversold my concerns then perhaps I could at least cool Twilight’s ambitions. “It could become a sort of Pandora’s box, you know?” “Of course it could be dangerous, but that’s always a risk when it comes to the unknown,” Twilight replied, sounding almost offended by my concerns. “Pandora’s box was just a myth ancient people used to explain what they couldn’t understand. Science gives you the answers so long as you have the willingness to seek them out. Running from the unknown wouldn’t have helped us discover antibiotics, or harness the power of the atom, or build rocket ships that can carry us into space.” I was taken back by Twilight’s passion towards her chosen field. It was a reminder of the stark contrast between our motivations: her passion versus my sense of necessity. It was humbling, and it left me wondering how I ever got a higher score than her in that physics contest. Maybe she was sick that day. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to suggest you slow down. I was just… worried about you,” I said with a half-truth cover-up. “Poking around strange energies and building gadgets in your basement—feels like something out of a sci-fi movie. I’m half-expecting some horrible disaster like you get turned into a mutant or something.” “You seem pretty normal so far,” Twilight replied with a shrug. “And you’ve been exposed to whatever it is in large quantities. Do you feel like you’ve mutated? Maybe an extra limb or able to see into ultraviolet frequencies?” “I feel pretty normal.” Or at least as normal as a unicorn-turned-human could feel. To be fair, I had only spent a little over three years in this body, so there may have been things that I was still oblivious about. With any luck, I would never wind up as surprised as I did when I discovered what stubbing your toe felt like. I tried to steer the conversation to a new topic and asked about Twilight’s day, but that just led us right back into talking about the item I still held in my hand. Apparently, the only noteworthy thing she did today was design and begin work on her newest science gadget. Since it seemed to be the only thing that she was keen on discussing, I decided to stick with it and asked if she could explain how her device worked. The love of learning and the love of teaching often went hand-in-hand, and as I had hoped, Twilight took up the offer with an enthusiasm I had rarely seen in her. She switched over into the seat next to me in order to better explain, as well as to grab a few of my french fries. She started by explaining the shortcomings of her old equipment, and how the difficulties discriminating between the various background sources of electromagnetic interference made it harder for her to isolate the strange energy readings. Apparently she needed to build something she called a phase discriminator, which was just a fancy way of saying she made a sensor that could filter out the background noise. What Twilight was missing the most, however, was a good source of field data. With the portal to Equestria closed for now, all she had were bread crumbs to pick at. The only real magical thing left on this side of the portal was myself and an old book that sat at the bottom of my locker. I reassured myself that the most Twilight would accomplish is chasing after wisps and ghosts for the next couple of weeks, followed by some frustration once she realized this. As her new, and likely only, friend, I would no doubt have to offer what comfort I can, all while trying to sound as though I was not relieved by her failure. That was assuming she ever finished her new scanner to begin with. “Now there is still one other technical problem I’m having trouble with,” Twilight commented, wiping away some excess ketchup from her lips. “Do you know much about wiring circuits? Maybe you could take a look at it.” I gave a modest answer of, “I’ve jury-rigged a few contraptions in my day.” In Equestria, technology of this caliber was rare, so any equipment I needed to study magic often had to be built from scratch. “What sort of problem is it?” I flipped the device over to look once more at the exposed wiring and circuits, only to inadvertently discover for myself what that technical issue was. My finger must’ve hit a button or the turn jostled something sensitive because the device suddenly let out a piercing, wailing klaxon. As one could imagine, Twilight and I became everybody’s favourite patrons. “Why is it doing that?” I shouted over the almost-painful racket. “I needed a warning system just in case I come across any source that’s putting out potentially dangerous amounts of energy,” she explained, shouting while clasping her hands over her ears, “so I threw in parts from an old alarm clock. I think I might’ve miswired something though because it keeps going off like that.” “You might’ve created a bypass for the power supply,” I answered, though in all honesty I was only making an educated guess. “And without the phase discriminator, the uncalibrated sensor is detecting everything.” “If you leave it alone, it stops after about five minutes,” my friend reassured me. While I might’ve been able to endure the noise for that long, I was reluctant to subject everyone else in a hundred metre radius to the same torment. That wariness soon became concern when I noticed several hateful stares being leveled in our direction. “Isn’t there some faster way?” I asked. Twilight quickly shook her head. “Not unless you want to tear the alarm out, along with everything connected to it.” Tempting as that was, I obviously couldn’t ruin Twilight’s project. However, that didn’t stop another patron from reaching the same idea with far less sense of restraint. As I was too distracted trying to figure out a way to shut the device down, I didn’t notice the approach of an familiar and angry patron until the scanner was wrested from my grasp. “Hey, that’s not—!”Alas, before I could say anything further, the thief proceeded to smash the scanner against the table, creating an even bigger ruckus and scattering Twilight’s tools and bits of circuitry across the floor. It wasn’t until several strikes in that I noticed that the irate misanthrope swinging the scanner about was none other than Gilda. “That’s enough!” I shouted, springing to my feet and grabbing Gilda’s arm before she could bring the device down once more. The noise had already long since ceased, so the last few hits did nothing but rub salt in the wound as Twilight watched her work be decimated before her eyes. “What is wrong with you? That was completely uncalled for!” “Your stupid toy was ruining everyone’s dinner,” Gilda snapped back. “I just did what everybody was thinking of.” On the bright side, she did stop her mindless carnage, but that was only to turn her attention to me. “Just be grateful I didn’t smash it over your dorky little head,” she added while prodding me in the chest with what remained of the device. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Twilight was left petrified in her seat, either from shock and horror or from fear of Gilda; perhaps both. It was up to me to stand up to Gilda for her, even though I had sufficient experience to know that this was a one-sided battle. Anger made for a powerful motivator, however. “You are such a neanderthal, Gilda,” I sneered at her. “You just bully your way about doing whatever you want, and you break whatever it is that annoys you.” “Your point?” Gilda replied, sounding undaunted by my remarks. “One of these days you’ll run your mouth off at somebody who’s not afraid of you and can withstand the one tool in your arsenal.” As far as threats go, that was about as menacing as threatening to sully her knuckles with my face. She chuckled whimsically, as to be expected, and then tossed the broken gadget to me. At the same time, she made a half-inch lunge towards me; a feint just to get my reflexes to kick me. And it worked, too, as my arms became a jumbled mess of noodles trying to both catch the device and protect myself piloted only by reflex and instinct. I wound up knocking the scanner straight into my jaw, followed by a frantic flailing to grab hold of it. By the time I managed to secure what remained of Twilight’s invention, my display had succeeded in throwing most of my credibility and dignity out the window, leaving Gilda laughing alongside a chorus from elsewhere in the restaurant—no doubt her own little entourage. As I stood there pondering how much damage the broken scanner could do to a person’s skull, I was startled by the sudden weight of Gilda’s arm draping across my shoulder. Since it was unlikely that Gilda would’ve forgotten how to employ a headlock, she undoubtedly had an ulterior motive to her sudden chummy appearance. “Maybe you’re right, Shimmy; perhaps I do tend to use violence a bit too readily,” Gilda mused as she pulled me in so close my shoulder became intimate with her armpit. She then shot me the sort of wicked grin that made your intestines knot up in dread. “Interesting choice of friends you have, Dorkle,” she called out to my still-petrified friend. “Say, do you remember all those times that you said that you knew I was cheating on stuff, but you just didn’t have the proof to back it up?” When Twilight began to nod, I realized precisely where Gilda was going with her question. Sadly, unless I was prepared to silence the misanthrope by force, there was nothing in this world I could do to stop this ship from sinking. “I’ll save you the trouble: I totally cheated,” Gilda boasted before she started patting my shoulder. “And this little brainiac is the one who’s been giving me the answers all these years.” One could see the emotions on Twilight’s face as her mind cycled through various stages of shock, disbelief, disgust, and crushing despair. All I could muster was a silent, mortified stare that only became further entrenched as a sense of betrayal consumed my friend. “She… she helped you cheat?” Twilight asked, a small, fleeting part of her still in denial. She looked to me probably expecting a flat-out denial, but I couldn’t muster any words. I had lied to Twilight about so much already, most of which were lies of omission as I feigned ignorance in the face of her research, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to deceive her so blatantly. Small white lies and silence were one thing when it was to protect Equestria, but to betray my friend’s trust just to save face? That was something that Applejack would have me strung up by my ankles for. Though I was silent, Gilda had no qualms about twisting the knife some more. “Of course she did,” Gilda said. “Ol’ Shimmy here was one of the best in the business—had scores of clients. She’s done, like… close to hundred assignments and projects for me by this point. Honestly, I kinda lost track after the first few months.” “H-hundreds?” my friend repeated in disbelief. “She can’t be serious, right Sunset? Sh-she’s lying… isn’t she?” “She’s just being modest,” Gilda insisted, giving me a painful pat on the shoulder. She then pulled out a folded-up ten-dollar bill and slipped it into my coat pocket, making sure that Twilight could see every moment of it. “Here’s an advance on that next project, by the way, I’m sure you’ll have it done to your usual standards.” Now that last part may have been a lie, but the damage had already been done. Denial would probably just make me look foolish and desperate. It might’ve been a mere ten-dollar bill for Gilda but it may as well have been a ten-tonne anchor around my neck. Before she left, Gilda leaned in close and whispered to me, “You’re right. That was way better than just punching you.” Gilda’s malicious little chuckle echoed in my ear as she strolled away, leaving me in a silent stare-off with my friend. I was too scared to speak, and my friend was left almost catatonic by this news. For someone who prided themselves on their hard work and education, discovering your one friend profited off the deception and fabrication of knowledge was like Applejack waking up one morning to discover her brother secretly prefers peaches. Twilight didn’t need to say anything, of course; the look of despair and betrayal on her face said everything that was needed.