Many of the greatest moments of our own personal history are marked by days of excitement, adventure, intrigue, or at least some moderate essence of good feelings. There are days when all worries simply slide away from our burdened backs, when energy long since forgotten bubbles to the pinnacle of our minds, sending a tingling feeling of euphoria and joy to fingers now filled with purpose. It is on these sunny and cloudless days when only the best parts of ourselves come to the stage of life, the negative and selfish sections of our hearts restrained by the kick in our step and the whistle from our lips. Days like these are the ultimate times of production, when the extraneous weights of life cannot afflict our ambitions and projects so dejectedly postponed by the usual constraints of society. Yes, these are the days we wish for as we collapse, exhausted and troubled, into our empty beds, hoping desperately that the morning sun brings the gift and curse of change to our monotonous years.
By sharp contrast, there are also the days that seem to dry up any wells of spirit we have left. Those are the days that are marked by the day to day motions of life that make it difficult to appreciate the good moments, for they come few and far between. Those are the days when we embarrassingly find ourselves staring abjectly into a wall, finding the shade and tone of the plaster and paint adorning the flat surface more interesting then our current situation. These days are marked by long periods of lonesome nothingness, when, in the stillness, we are often forced to reconcile debates within our own subconscious suppressed by more exciting periods of time. What is truth? What exists? Do I exist? Does any of this even matter?
As Princess Celestia slumped in a large, stone work chair, her soft muzzle face down in boredom on a square table, surrounded on all sides by piles upon piles of bureaucratic nothingness, she realized which category her current day fell neatly into.
Lazily, she brought her face up from its previous downwards position, resting her chin slowly on the smooth, marble work table. She observed the wall a foot or so away from her eyes carefully. It was made out of gray stone, obviously, she had always known that in the subconscious recesses of her mind. However, as she analyzed every contour, every shade, every facet of that individual wall, she began to understand the true meaning of that wall in the grand scheme of the universe. The wall must have been a cosmic representation of the dullness in her own life, placed specifically there by some omniscient power for the precise reason of illuminating her mind to this fact. Was that stone wall a result of higher forces attempting to reach her soul on an important matter, whatever it may be? Could anything so simple be so filled with meaning?
She tore her piercing gaze away from the flat surface, suddenly fearful of the horrible truths it may enlighten her to. Her eyes swiftly scanned the rest of her immediate surroundings, searching desperately for something, anything, to alleviate the intense feeling of boredom cutting into her soul. At first, she saw nothing remotely interesting, just soaring towers of papers to sign and work to be done. As she searched, her eyes fell upon a brown, sharply cut thing peaking out of the bottom of a rather large stack of paperwork. She gingerly moved the entire mountain of bills, it quivering slightly in protest as Celestia ignored the fact that there was actual work to be done in that pillar of paper. After completing this task, she found the brown object to be a large book of simple design and fashion. There was little to no decoration or embroidery adorning the book, nor was there even a description of the novel on the backside of it. The only thing individualizing the book in the slightest were golden letters on the front cover, shining dully in the pale gray light of the dimly light bedroom.
The Theory of the Multiverse, by Dr. M. C. Square
Princess Celestia sighed openly to herself in remembrance. She had recalled her faithful student giving this individual book to her as a gift the last time they met. Truly, she had intended to at least attempt to read the relatively uninteresting book, but her civil duties had long since obstructed such effort, and the notion had fallen away into the dark recesses of her mind.
With little else in mind available, she determined that today, that dull day, would be the day she would fulfill that obligation to her student, even if the imposing book in front of her looked even duller then the gray skies outside her window. Dust slid in a film of grayness as she opened the front cover of the book, beginning her long night of solace.
As she read, her eyes taking in more and more technical and advanced information regarding theoretical physics, she began to find interest in what she could understand from the large book. According to the author, many invisible facets of reality existed in parallel to their own, weaving and streaming through each other and of one another. In fact, according to this theory, any and all realities, imagined or otherwise, could and should exist by a simple extrapolation of something called Murphy's Law, which stated that anything in the universe can and will occur by the laws of time and space. They, according to him, were quite inaccessible to even the most powerful in all the realms. However, he theorized that they could be breached from one dimension to another through great magic prowess and focus unlike any possessed in the history of the universe.
This theory, Celestia already knew, had been verified in the past through the existence of the alternate Equestrian reality of Canterlot High, as described by Princess Twilight in the past. However, the notion that any universe, created by the ponies of her own kingdom or, paradoxically, by creatures of another dimension, could exist in actual reality, was quite new. This had profound implications on a societal level; could their universe simply be the result of the imagination of an extraneous power? Could every real thing be the work of some sort of divine predestination?
Her heart raced and her blood buzzed through her veins as her mind frantically produced infinite thoughts and ideas regarding this recent development. Any and all universes? The possibilities were endless! Any work of fantasy, of science fiction, could have created its own mini-universe, as impossible as it seemed.
Her mouth dropped dramatically open wide, her heart dropped into her hooves, her eyes misted, as she realized what she could now have the power to do. Resting on the far right of her work table was a technological marvel attained from Twilight's excursions into their neighboring world, known as a computer. For Twilight, it had been the most fascinating machine she had ever seen in her life, with the ability to instantaneously produce knowledge on a global scale. For Celestia, it seemed more like a convenient gadget, especially in her own world. There was only access to a somewhat spotty connection to something known as, "the Internet", when the portal between the two realities was open, essentially nullifying the positive abilities of the strange, squarish machine when the portal was closed. When it was open, Twilight and her draconic assistant Spike generally borrowed the computer for research, returning it to Celestia once the portal closed again in order to minimize risk of breaking the device over the rest of the year.
A mischievous smile spread gracefully over Celestia's face as she realized the perfect remedy for her boredom issue.
Daintily pressing a button on the computer's keyboard with her forehoof, she activated the peculiar device, the black screen instantly illuminating the darkness surrounding her frame. After adjusting her vision, she saw that system had not been properly shut down by its previous user, the prior user's last visited page opening instantaneously. It was exactly the one Celestia wanted to see.
Celestia had witnessed on numerous occasions that the computer was capable of providing entertainment to the user through various games. One such game had caught the attention of Spike, who often played incessantly as various warring characters with odd priorities and even stranger head ware. Celestia had seen enough of the game to understand the general concept of the rather violent excursion. The enemy teams were forced to take the others', intelligence, as it was called, by any means necessary.
The Multiverse Theory, in Celestia's mind, could indicate a depth of involvement in said game unlike anything ever imagined. It would take all of her magic power, every ounce of her intuition, to conjure such as spell as to enter a world that did not even technically exist, if it were at all possible. However, the chance of not only breaking the laws of time and space but also attain the ultimate cure for her boredom, won out against any logical opposition screaming at her inside her brain.
Her pristine ivory horn shimmered, encompassed by a golden aura, as Celestia focused all her thoughts on entering that world. She did not actually know how exactly to do so, but she figured that it couldn't be much different from a teleportation spell, just one that tore the very fabric of numerous realities.
Sparks danced and popped on her shining horn, growing brighter and more frequent as the moments passed. Her body began to glow a fierce white as she poured all of her power into the spell, willing the facets of space-time to bend to her will. Then, with a rather anti-climatic pop, she dissipated, leaving only a large black mark on the stone floor, along with some ignited sheets of paper flying gracefully around the room.
A man clothed in denim overalls and blue attire reclined comfortably in a wooden rocking chair, his expression a nonchalant, relaxed smile. He wore large, bug-like glasses, protection from the hazards his work entailed. Sitting next to him was a blue tool box filled with wrenches, screwdrivers, metal, lethal weapons, and any other necessities an Engineer required to keep his team well defended and supplied.
He looked casually over at his handiwork, a blue, robotic structure of formidable size and strength. The sentry, armed with dual machine guns and small multi-purposed missiles, was rotating slowly from left to right, scanning the small room for any sign of intruders. If the color red was picked up in its spectrometer, the sentry would react swiftly and efficiently, eviscerating the poor sap into a small pile of ash.
The Engineer's content smile did not cease as he heard the sound of frantic gunfire and shouts from further down the hall, nor did he halt his peaceful rocking motion in his chair. As the gunfire ceased and the voice of the RED Team Scout clamored in victory over his fallen opponent, the BLU Engineer continued to do nothing, allowing his workmanship to complete his tasks for him.
Swiftly, the Scout darted into the Intelligence Room, the look on his face one of determination and pride. The sentry halted its centripetal motion, focusing in a laser stare on the Scout's frame. As he realized the trap he had walked into, the Scout attempted to blast the deadly sentry to pieces with his Scattergun, but the gesture was too little too late. Instantly, the sentry unleashed its technological fury into the flabbergasted Scout, unloading a hailstorm of bullets and missiles at point blank range into his frame. The next moment, only the visceral remains of the Scout indicated that he had ever existed in the first place.
The Engineer chucked, satisfied with his excellent work. No sooner did he begin to doze off, however, did he hear a thick, Russian bellow grow gradually louder and louder as something grew nearer and nearer. Perplexed, the Engineer grabbed his shotgun, ready to blast the charging thing to pieces should it round the hallway into the room.
As the thing bolted around the corner of the hallway, the Engineer witnessed an exceedingly raged BLU Heavy sprinting towards him, his eyes seething with anger and humiliation.
"Where is baby Scout? I will punch him in face with fist, then punch him in face with Sasha, then punch him in face with face until he has no face left to punch!"
The Engineer blinked twice at this proclamation in confusion. Heavy meant well, but his accent made his sentences often quite difficult to decipher.
"Uh, the Scout's long gone, if that's what ya mean."
The Heavy's look of dignified rage did not cease, instead growing fiercer as he explained,
"Scout is little baby, he run around with baseball bat and hit me in poor knees. I will hit him in knees with bullet!"
"You do that, partner. While you're at it, just make sure nobody's tryin' to steal the Intelligence."
The Engineer had little sympathy for Heavy's kneecaps. What mattered, practically, was that the Intelligence be protected at all costs. Whatever happened to the team upstairs, nothing could get through him and his sentry, he knew, for it was indeed his handiwork, his lethal masterpiece.
"You mean like weird little pony thing stealing Intelligence now?"
Heavy pointed a sausage of a finger at the pristine white creature behind the Engineer in confusion. Instantly, the Engineer swung his shotgun around to the face of the unknown thing stealing the Intelligence he worked so hard to protect. His mouth dropped as his mind attempted to comprehend the creature standing with the Intelligence hovering close by before him. For a few stunned moments, neither man did anything but freeze and stare at the odd thing, entirely befuddled as to shoot it or not.
Whispering, but not moving his body in the slightest, the Heavy questioned the Engineer,
"Should we kill or no? It is not red, but it is not blue. I am confused."
The Engineer could only stutter in reply as he analyzed the equine-esque being in utter astonishment. What was it? How did it get past Heavy, the sentry, and himself, unnoticed? Was it a new Spy disguise intended to confuse them?
Suddenly, the creature's face curled in what the Engineer and Heavy labeled as a sinister smile. Still holding the blue briefcase of Intelligence in a golden aura, it raised its right hoof to the both of them and did its own equivalent of a mischievous wave goodbye. As it did so, its horn grew a brighter and brighter gold, blinding the vision of Engineer and Heavy. Surprised, and with the threat of the Intelligence becoming permanently stolen, the Engineer shouted to his comrade,
"Shoot 'em, shoot 'em now!"
Instantly, both of them released the contents of their deadly weapons into the direction of the white light in a continuous stream, yelling in confusion and determination. For a full ten seconds, the pair continued to shoot relentlessly into the space where the light slowly dissipated, the Heavy's machine gun tearing the table the Intelligence once sat on into pieces. As the light normalized, the Engineer halted his stream of fire and opened his eyes. The Heavy continued to scream deeply at the nonexistent force, his machine gun long since depleted of ammunition, his eyes still closed in hopes that all his problems would be solved upon their opening.
There was nothing left of the table except a small, blue stump chewed to pieces by hundreds of armor piercing bullets. The strange horse-creature, and along with it, the Intelligence, were nowhere to be seen. The Engineer stared in abject horror and confusion at the empty, bullet torn space in front of him. An unknown, weird pony-like thing had just thwarted the intricate system the Engineer had in place. To him, it seemed like he had just lost to the spawn of a girl's imagination in a world driven by violence and manliness.
"Heavy, stop your screaming, there's nothing left!"
For a few moments, Heavy didn't respond, content to let his hopes ride on his shouts. When his lungs had all but given their last, he halted his bellow and opened his eyes. He was as shocked by the current situation before him as his teammate. He simply stared at the destruction they had wrought and the lack of a pony that should have been destroyed along with it, his lips pursed in the ultimate look of confusion.
"Alert, the enemy has taken our Intelligence!"
The Announcer swiftly confirmed that the seemingly impossible situation before them was indeed reality. As the both of them stood motionless, overwhelmed by the suddenness and brevity of the encounter that resulted in the loss of the one thing they were assigned to protect, a jumbled mixture of shouts and concerned voices rapidly grew close to their position. A long moment later, the rest of BLU team rounded the hall in a massive gaggle, almost managing to lodge themselves in the narrow corner into the Intelligence Room.
The Scout was the first to question the stunned pair frozen stiff in the room, his voice one of concern and confused anger,
"Heavy, Engineer, what happened? We heard some crazy shouts and stuff, and then the Intelligence got stolen!"
"Yeah, I was sittin' up in me sniper perch, huntin' me some scrawny wallabies, when I heard you wankers shoutin' about something tinkering with the bloomin' Intelligence like a bunch of sissy wombats."
The Sniper responded swiftly, his statement filled to the brim of his Stetson hat in odd, foreign expletives.
The Engineer turned to face his confused comrades, his own face downcast in abject shame and subjugation. Slowly, his voice shuddering under nervous tones, he attempted to explain the peculiar situation to them,
"Well, I'm not so sure how to explain this to ya'll, but our Intelligence got stolen by a...by, um.."
"By little pony!" The Heavy interjected in frustration to finish the guilty Engineer's comment.
The seven other members of the team stared in mock disbelief at the Engineer and Heavy, certain that this was some confounded excuse to hide the true reason of the Intelligence's disappearance. After a few soundless moments, the resident Soldier, his face contorted in a mix of absolute shame and that good old fashioned American determination and patriotism he always clearly presented, approached the nonexistent table,
"Are you telling me, maggots, that you let some pansy pony steal the Intelligence from right under your sissy noses? I ought to court martial you right now for total failure to complete the greatest mission ever assigned for the greatest country on earth, for losing to one of the most shameful and girly creatures I can imagine, for..."
"We get it, Soldier, but what's already happened is in the past! What we need to do now is focus on finding a way of getting the Intelligence back."
The Engineer's comment struck a cord with the rest of the team. As odd and pathetic as it sounded to them that their Intelligence was stolen by a pony of all things, the most important mission at hand was not to point fingers, but to find and retrieve the lost item.
Holding a brown bottle of whiskey shakily in his hand, the Demoman, covered entirely in rather unstable explosives, interjected,
"That's all fine and dandy, mate, but how do you suppose we actually go about that?"
The Engineer stroked his chin in thought. It was an entirely valid comment, especially coming from the resident drunkard. After a few moments, the light bulb went off in his mind, manifested by his excited tones,
"I've got it! All I need to do is calibrate our teleporter to the precise energy signature mapped by the ethereal presence, adjust its range and net power output, and reform the major rationalization matrix and we're in business!"
Heavy looked down at the Engineer, clearly perplexed by his highly technical statement. The Engineer noticed his confusion, along with the rest of his team.
"Putting it simply, I'm modifying the teleporter to take us wherever the unknown creature went. After that, getting our Intelligence back will be a cinch."
Looks of understanding spread swiftly to the rest of the team, their heads nodding in agreement with the plan. They had sacrificed everything, their families, their friends, their lives on numerous occasions, to keep the evil RED team from getting their filthy hands on it. The notion that they finally lost to not only something that wasn't even a part of RED team, but also to a creature so innocent and non-threatening, drove their resolves deep into their hearts. The Medic, a determined and somewhat insane smile creeping onto his lips, fixed his surgical glove to his hand and said,
"With extreme prejudice,"
The rest of BLU team prepared their lethal armaments, checking for sufficient amounts of ammunition and looking for any obstructions that could harm the weapons' working order. Swiftly, the Engineer rushed to his toolbox and pulled out the items he would need to create his devious invention. After a few moments of what looked to the rest of the team like Engineer clanging some pieces of metal with his wrench, the Engineer completed his work, wiping the beads of sweat away from his brow. The new, advanced teleporter looked quite similar to any standard model. However, this one contained two alien-esque poles sprouting out from either side of the circular disc, indicating that it was indeed quite different from anything BLU team had ever seen.
"Teleporter's ready to go. Now, ya'll got any actual plans for getting our Intelligence back?"
The Spy had been waiting for this comment to arise. Planning and strategy was his specialty. Straightening his tie in line with his suit and removing a glowing cigarette from his lips, the Spy replied to the Engineer's question with a sophisticated accent,
"This operation will require a certain level of tact, so follow my..."
The Spy's proposed plan was abruptly interrupted as the Soldier hurled himself past the perplexed Engineer and towards the activated teleporter, shouting in excitement and patriotism,
"Let's go kill some Commies!"
Before the Engineer could put a halt to the Soldiers rash move, the teleporter spun rapidly in circular motion, causing the Soldier to disappear instantly with a blue flash. Taking his action as a viable excuse to do the same, the rest of the team sprinted towards the teleporter, throwing the dumbfounded Spy aside. They shouted in excitement and virile duty as they crossed the veil between the universes that stand in the way of them and their ultimate prize. Picking himself professionally up from the rough, concrete floor, the Spy reinserted the cigarette into his mouth in a most elegant manner and said disappointingly to the open air and warbling teleporter,
"But of course. Off we go again."
The afternoon sun hung low in the blue sky, painting the open air a brilliant combination of picturesque colors. Piercing the very heart of it was Celestia's royal tower bedroom, a spire of gray, spiraling stone, the tallest feature adorning the great city of Canterlot. Inside of this elegant building stood the supreme ruler of Equestria, the seemingly omnipotent being of ethereal prowess and majestic presence. Standing before her white marble work table, she brushed aside the towering stacks of paper with her magic, of which floated away haphazardly. With a broad, ecstatic smile adorning her muzzle, she set her prize on the pristine surface gently, the golden aura of magic dissipating away from the blue briefcase.
Princess Celestia analyzed the strange, metal container with intrigue and excitement. Her heart beat frantically in her hooves as she shivered in exhilaration over the deed she had just committed. In the span of a few moments, she had become one of the only ponies in the known universe, in the multiverse, to shatter the laws of space-time and enter not just a parallel reality, but a world that supposedly didn't exist, created to be nothing more than a pastime, a device of entertainment.
Now, an important question loomed over her being as she became wrapped in thought. She had just stolen the most important item in existence for the inhabitants of the alternate world. Could it be at all possible that those violent individuals would want to take it back? Obviously, she thought; though she believed from her relatively scant knowledge of the game that the beings had no method of entering her world, voiding any possible dangers facing her unsuspecting citizens. Probably.
Not even a moment after these thoughts intruded into her subconsciousness, she heard raised, panicked voices calling from far outside her bedroom door. A chill ran down her spines as her mind raced to find probable explanations other than the most likely one facing her.
"Mercy is for weaklings! Take this, you pathetic excuses for communist wimps!"
This guttural, menacing voice was followed by the sound of explosions and gunfire, shaking the very foundations of the castle. In a rush of fear and regret, Princess Celestia darted out of her bedroom and trotted carefully down her stone stairs. A few moments later, she exited upon a large, ornate, white stone balcony overlooking an impressive hall in size and stature. The hallway, hundreds of feet long and dozens high, was adorned with various murals and paintings of certain events in ancient Equestrian history. Statues of nameless pony figures dotted the carpeted interior at regular intervals. It would look rather splendid, save the nine gigantic, viscous beasts destroying every soul and item defending it.
Hundreds of Royal Guards, garbed in golden armor that shimmered in the torch lit hallway, charged forward in an attempt to halt the steady advance of the unknown interdimensionals. Most of them were sliced away as wheat in a field by a huge, powerful weapon the size of an average pony wielded by a maniacal beast of a man. A deep, insane laugh erupted from its diaphragm as it took great pleasure in its work.
"Yes, yes! Go Sasha, tear puny ponies to pieces!"
The Royal Guard, armed only with twig-like spears and ineffectual magic, were completely unable to inflict any sustainable damage on the team of nine as they continued to advance towards Celestia's position. Any wounds they did manage to impose were brushed swiftly away by a blue ray of healing power erupting from the Medic's gadget. The Sniper selected the wiser targets residing in the background attempting to blast his team to pieces with shining bolts of power. He never missed.
The Soldier, his rocket launcher hefted heavily on his shoulder, charged boldly into the pony lines of defense, transforming the fearful and confused guards into piles of dust and visceral nothingness with every missile soaring in their direction. The Pyro, seeming unusually cheerful garnering the current situation, spread his boundless love through gifts of incinerating flames to gaggles of unsuspecting ponies quite generously.
Princess Celestia froze in abject horror as the situation around her unfurled. Her actions, the simple result of the boredom of a princess, were resulting in the absolute desolation of her loyal subjects. All she had wanted was something to do on that gray, meaningless day. She never could have foreseen the disastrous consequences of her actions.
"You must've thought you were being remarkably clever,"
Startled by the voice emanating from behind her, Celestia spun to face the whatever it was addressing her. It was dressed neatly in a cerulean blue suit with a dark blue tie. Standing in the opening of the staircase into the hallway, its face was partly hidden by dark shadow. Thrusting from the darkness was a silver revolver aimed directly between her eyes. In the Spy's right hand was the bright blue briefcase Celestia had just attained, the Intelligence. Celestia's ears folded on her head in a gesture of fear as she slowly backed away from the tall, imposing figure.
"Give me one good reason why I should not end your miserable life. Otherwise, I will take what you stole, your soul along with it."
Celestia could only stammer in reply, her vocal cords stiffened the terror in her heart. The Spy grunted in recognition of his victory. Then, in a move that shocked and relieved Celestia, he elegantly lowered his weapon, sliding it into a fold within his suit. Stepping fully into the light, he addressed the confused princess shaking before him.
"I suppose you are wondering why I didn't kill you,"
Celestia nodded slowly as the Spy lit a cigarette, inserting the white cylinder into his mouth with great sophistication.
"Well, I consider it for my own benefit to leave that to the gentleman behind you."
Celestia spun around in terror and confusion, her already white coat gaining an additional pale shade.
Standing but a few inches from her stunned frame was a rather content, joyous Heavy. A smile of pure happiness and evil spread across his drawn face.
"Where were we?"