In Which Multiple Failsafes Prove Insufficient
Celestia dreamed.
She liked this one.
For one, there was no sign of Luna. She loved her sister dearly, but the thought of her sister peeking in on her most secret thoughts and fantasies embarrassed her to no end. It wasn't as if Luna was invasive, of course. If there was one thing that pony practiced, it was consideration for the wishes of dreamers in her care. Luna was no eavesdropper or spy. Still, Celestia always slept more at ease when she couldn't feel her sister's presence politely waiting "outside the doors to her mind," so to speak.
It was in Celestia's nature, you see. She was a public pony. In fact, she was the most public pony. All the eyes of ponydom were constantly fixed upon her every action. The most innocent fleeting glance in the wrong direction, a comment spoken without thinking, or greeting one pony before another one might have rippling ramifications throughout the empire. As a result, every single thing she did was meticulously planned. Every word carefully chosen. Every gesture given in just such a way. She was a terribly guarded pony, Celestia. And that did not bother her. She had come to terms with it long ago. She had had thousands of years of practice, and so had become very very good at it. So it was simply in her nature to hide true emotions and secret thoughts, and the idea of anypony, even one she trusted implicitly, being able to see that was unsettling.
And what Celestia liked about this dream was that she didn't have to be that pony. In her best dreams, she was just another mare. A simple unicorn teacher, perhaps, showing Twilight Sparkle, or sometimes her long gone students of past generations, like Starswirl, the basics of magic. Laughing as she watched the scrunched-up look of concentration on Twilight's face as she focused on a spell, or the serious, peering concentration of Starswirl, still fresh in her mind and her mind alone millenia later.
Sometimes she was at one of Pinkie Pie's parties, and no one bowed to her and no one was nervous, and all of her old friends were there, filling the cheerfully decorated barn at Sweet Apple Acres, which stretched to impossible dimensions in all directions to accomodate them all. And there was laughing and dancing and cake, and she was just part of the crowd.
Sometimes she simply went shopping, haggling with shopkeepers who weren't afraid to make her work for a good price.
Sometimes, she smiled up at the sun and ran and played and laughed in its warm light, revelling in the gift that, in her dream only, was not her sacred responsibility.
Sometimes there were stallions. With roses and chocolates and all of the wonderful romantic things she knew she could and would never have.
Tonight was a special dream, though. Tonight she dreamed that she was Celestia, Princess of Equestria and Goddess of the Sun, and everypony loved her anyway. Not feared her, or respected her, or worshipped her, or studied her, or took her for granted, or even lusted after her, but truly loved her for who she was; for the pony she was, not the goddess she was, not the royal title. In the waking world, very few ponies she had ever known had ever been able to show her that unconditional kindness. It was a large part of what made Twilight Sparkle so special in her eyes.
It was a nice dream.
She didn't like being awoken from nice dreams.
A gout of green flame flared in mid-air, illuminating Celestia's darkened sleeping chambers briefly in its light, and waking the regent from her sweet reverie.
Materializing from the flame, a rolled letter popped into existence. Celestia stared at it blearily for a second or so. Then it fell on her face.
“Buh!” she said. Hey, it was the middle of the night. What, were you expecting poetry?
Celestia batted at the scroll sleepily, knocking it off her muzzle clumsily with her hoof in a vain attempt to grasp it. Shaking her head to clear it a bit, trying to regain some of her royal composure, she tried again, this time picking the scroll up from the floor and opening it with her magic.
She yawned as she read. Then she stopped herself mid-yawn. Then she put a hoof on her face and shook her head slowly. Then she sighed. Then she got up. It was quite a read, you see. Easily a four-gesture letter. No sleep tonight, she supposed. If Twilight needed her help, then she was going to help. The thought didn’t stop her from looking sadly and longingly back at her bed, before turning to leave her room.
. . .
Applejack was, for lack of a better word, shell-shocked. Big Mac was in no better condition. The zap apple field was decimated. To say they depended on their rare and special apple cultivar was putting it lightly. The desperately needed a good zap apple harvest, this year even more than most.
And giant crabs had dropped out of the sky and crushed most of their trees. I mean, I don’t even think there is a word for luck that bad.
“Duuude,” said one of the giant crabs, with a pale orange shell, admiring the crater they had made. “Radical.”
“Is anybody else having a hard time coming to terms with not only our sudden emergence into sentience, but also the radical alterations made to our bodies via unknown means?” said one with a faintly purple shell.
“Totally,” replied the orange one. Then, after a pause, “Wait… what?”
Rarity was not amused. In fact, she was positively enraged. “Excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?!” she said evenly, almost calmly, her eye twitching. Sweetie Belle recognized this as danger sign #1, and stepped back several steps. The other two Crusaders followed suit.
“Well, we kind of fell out of the sky? I guess you missed that part?” said the blue one.
“Look at what you have done,” said Rarity, staring up at the crabs, four hooves evenly on the ground, a scowl fixed on her face. “Look at what you’ve done to Sweet Apple Acres!”
The four did, rotating themselves in place with their legs and swiveling their eye-stalks this way and that. None of them saw anything that particularly stood out at them.
“Yeah? So what?” said the red one, rudely.
Rarity’s scowl turned into an almost-sweet smile. Sweetie Belle recognized danger sign #2, and decided to duck behind a plow. Concerned looks crossed the faces of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, and they dove behind it too, pushing and shoving each other to find space.
“The trees, dear,” said Rarity, carefully, through gritted teeth.
“Uh… big deal?” said the red one.
At this, even in their dazed state, Applejack and Big Mac knew it was time to clear out. They grabbed Granny Smith and dove for cover. Sweetie Belle squeaked and covered her eyes, realizing that the crabs were going to make Rarity skip right over danger signs #3-9. She had never seen #10.
Rarity was no expert magician. She also did not have a particularly loud or booming voice. And at this very moment, neither of those things were true.
“Whoaaa!” said the orange crab, as a blinding explosion of white light blasted off the pony in all directions. Her horn glowed with a pale but intense purple hue, and her pupil-less eyes glowed white. Her purple mane and tail waved as if blown by an unfelt wind. And her voice boomed with magical amplification.
“LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!”
Crabs don’t have jaws, but if they did, they would have been agape. “Nice going,” muttered the purple one to the red one.
. . .
The Midnight Special Manehatten-Canterlot (by way of Ponyville) pulled up to the (miraculously not yet on fire) Ponyville platform. Iron Horse had already met with the conductor, a pony by the name of Flat Cap, and the two had gone back to reassure the passengers and instruct them to remain seated.
Shovel Face, meanwhile, worked as fast as he could to refill the coal hopper for the trip to Canterlot.
It was kind of creepy. Despite the hour, the area was well-lit with a number of fires, so he could clearly see the entire platform area had been totally abandoned. Despite the chaos around them, it was almost… quiet here.
It freaked him out.
More coal. Another shovelful. Faster. He levitated the shovel in his telekinesis.
All he could hear was his own breathing, and the scrape of the shovel, and the soft clunk of the coal chunks as they landed in the hopper. In the distance, he thought he could hear voices shouting, “Trixieeee… we neeeeed you!” like zombies. That did not put him any more at ease.
“Aieeeeeee!” the piercing scream from behind him made Shovel Face jump about six feet in the air. He turned quickly to see two mares running toward him. To his surprise, they threw themselves on him, crying.
“Help!” said one, a magenta and green earth pony, “You have to help us!”
“It’s right behind us!” said the other, a pink and yellow earth pony.
“W-what is? What’s right behind you?” Shovel Face tried to sound brave, but the way his voice squeaked betrayed him.
Out of the shadows emerged a nightmare. A hideous, half-bear, half-shark monstrosity from the darkest pits of his worst dreams, made flesh. The earth pony mares screamed again as the beast lumbered towards them.
"W-w-what is that?!" the boilerpony shrieked.
"I don't know! Help us!" cried the pink pony, looking into his eyes.
"Please! There's nopony else around! You're our only hope!" said the magenta pony, throwing her arms around his neck.
There was something in their faces that stirred something deep within Shovel Face. Something heroic. Something like... destiny. Suddenly, a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind.
"Well, I... I don't really know why we named you that, honey. It just seemed right somehow!" a memory of his mother.
The bear-shark took a thundering step closer. The fear and nervousness melted away from Shovel Face's... face, replaced by a look of determination.
"Hahaha! Nice name, SHOVEL FACE!" a memory of one of the many mocking schoolchildren.
Another booming step. Shovel Face pushed the mares behind him, and lowered his boilerpony cap just over his eyes.
My cutie mark is a shovel. Well, that figures. a memory of the day he had gotten his cutie mark, and had been disappointed by it.
The beast lumbered closer still, almost within lunging distance now. Shovel Face levitated his coal shovel close to him.
Birthday presents: all plastic shovels. He had wanted a train set. He sighed. Why did he have to be named Shovel Face? a memory of another disappointing birthday.
The hideous, toothy shark head thrashed and chomped in anticipation. Shovel Face felt his cutie mark tingling. He knew now. He knew why he had been named Shovel Face. He knew what his cutie mark truly meant. He knew what his destiny was, and he was meeting it, here and now, on the Ponyville train platform, backlit by fire, with two beautiful mares-in-distress looking on.
He raised his shovel. He smiled.
The bear-shark lunged, roaring the roar a bear would roar if its head were a fish.
Shovel Face hit the bear-shark as hard as he could with his shovel, right in its face.
The blow knocked teeth out, and sent the monster flying backwards. It collapsed, unconscious, in a heap.
Daisy, the magenta mare, gasped. "Who... are you?" she said in awe.
And he smiled the toothiest, proudest smile he had ever smiled. Pulling a foreleg around each of the mares, he spoke with a brash confidence his voice had never had before in his life, "My name... is Shovel Face!" he declared, lofting his shovel to the heavens.
Daisy and Lily swooned.
. . .
Twilight crashed through some debris, in hot pursuit.
Spike clung to her neck for dear life.
There were ponies in danger, and as important as it was to approach problem-solving in an organized manner, Twilight was not going to sit around on a hill while a bear-shark threatened to eat the townsponies!
Skidding around a corner, Twilight made a flying leap onto the train platform!
...Oh. Well, looks like this situation resolved itself. Huh. It's the thought that counts, Twilight.
Twilight sighed. "Okay, never mind that. Spike, can you go investigate Trixie's wagon? I need to know what she did to cause... that," she waved her hoof half-heartedly in the vague direction of the distant school flagpole, which Trixie clung to the top of desperately, surrounded on all sides by ponies and forest animals clawing desperately up at her. Occasionally, the distant blue speck had to knock away an amorous pegasus or flying creature with her telekinesis. "I just have the worst feeling it has something to do with my Cauldron Club, so if you can find a sample of her potion, that might help. I've got to get all the way back up the hill to meet the Princess when she arrives." She frowned at the thought of backtracking all that way. C'est la vie, Twi'. C'est la vie.
"On it, boss!" said Spike, saluting smartly, and he dashed off.
Twilight turned her back on the unconscious bear-shark, Daisy, Lily, and the train pony, and started her long trek back to her observation point, reviewing her notes mentally. It couldn't have been Cauldron Club. It just... it couldn't have been! Everything had gone so smoothly! And none of the effects she was seeing matched the potions the ponies had made! Of course... if Fluttershy had substituted crushed amethyst gem dust in place of crushed dried amethyst flower, that would account for the gills on the bears... but shark-heads? Wait... maybe if she'd also replaced the bael leaf with bay leaf... that could theoretically cause mutation if in conjunction with... oh, come on! It’s silly to think in hypotheticals! There was no way this could possibly all be related to Cauldron Club! Twilight emphasized the thought by stomping a forehoof for "no" and "way," each, nodding to herself.
"Twilight? Is that you? Oh, thank goodness we found you! Berry isn't feeling well. I think it has something to do with the potion she made at... something called Cauldron Club?" Twilight gritted her teeth. Cheerilee walked Berry (and, presumably, Cidery) over to her. Twilight immediately noted the monkey paws on Berry's hooves.
"Wha... really?! Oh come on! You drank that?! What is wrong with you?!" she said to Berry, biting her lip in frustration. Of course this was all to do with Cauldron Club. Of course.
Berry started to say, "Sorry, Twilight," but forgot what she was saying after the "s." So it came out more like, "Ssssssssss... uh... oh! Heh heh! Sorrrry Twliligh!" For the record, "Twliligh" is an incredibly difficult word to say, so... good on you there, I guess, Berry.
Twilight rolled her eyes.
“I found her like this, wandering around. Her hooves…”
“Yeah, that… I know what that is,” Twilight said, remembering the ill-advised Lyra/Bon-Bon/Berry potion that she had let them go ahead and make anyway. Why did I let them go ahead and make it anyway?!
"I'm sorry Twilight, but can you help her get somewhere safe? I'm going to try and help the fire brigade!" said Cheerilee.
"At the moment, then, you are the fire brigade."
Cheerilee's eyebrows raised at that news, but she was undeterred, "Then I've got my work cut out for me!" she replied, a look of determination on her stubborn earth pony features.
“Okay, Cheerilee. Just stay clear of Trixie. Don’t look at her if you can help it, she’s got some kind of spell on her, and the whole fire brigade is affected. Also, keep an eye out for Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie. They think they’re ninjas, and I don’t want them to hurt themselves or anyone else. And steer clear of Sweet Apple Acres, something is going on over there I haven’t identified yet. And whatever is causing these fires is emitting magic at random, and is wandering somewhere around town.”
Cheerilee’s eyebrows raised, then raised, then raised again. Most of her forehead was eyeball at this point, probably. “O… kay, thank you Twilight.”
“Oh, and, watch out for the bear-sharks. A train pony took one of them down, but we don’t know how many there are.”
Cheerliee could not raise her eyebrows any further, it was physically impossible, so she narrowed one eye instead. “Bear… sharks?”
Twilight nodded. “Body of a bear, with a shark head and body on the neck? You’ll know them if you see them.”
Cheerilee processed that for a moment, then nodded. She had impressive courage and cool under pressure, for a schoolteacher. “Okay then. Got it. Trixie. Ninjas. Magic. Sweet Apple Acres. Bear-sharks. Thanks for the warning, Twilight.”
“Et’s a lowng day… livin’ in a… a sneaker… there’s a… tree? ...Way… runnnnnin’ tru da yawrd… an’ alla vammmmponies… walkin’ thru-a vallhee… move vests... down... dooda durbadoo…” sang Berry. She had a lovely voice. When she wasn’t smashed. Which was rarely.
Twilight gestured at Berry with her hoof, “I’ll take care of this situation. I’ll bring her up to the hill outside of town with me. Princess Celestia is on her way, so between the two of us, we should be able to figure out what to do from there.”
Cheerilee was visibly relieved at that news. “Alright then, good luck! Oh,” Cheerilee stopped, “Twilight, is all this…?”
Twilight groaned. “Yes, it’s starting to look like this is somehow all my fault. Or will be. Or something.”
Cheerilee wasn’t mad at her. A pained look of sympathy crossed her face. Poor Twilight, all the bad things that happened to her seemed like they somehow started with her, but were never really her fault… and she worked so hard to fix things, too. Cheerilee smiled and put a friendly hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. I’m sure it isn’t your fault. Not really.”
Twilight smiled back. “Thanks, Cheerilee, I really needed to hear that.”
“AN’ IIIIIIII’M FREEEEEEEEEE… FREEE FAWWWWLLLLIN’!!!!” belted Berry, then she promptly free fell into a comatose state.
Twilight shook her head, picked Berry up with her telekinesis, and she and Cheerilee parted ways.
. . .
Bon-Bon’s earth pony endurance was put to the test as she raced to keep up with Lyra, who was seemingly, as always, fueled by pure manic energy.
“Where are we going, Lyra?” she called, her breath a bit ragged.
“I’m going to the water tower, of course! There’s fire-fighting to do! But I thought I told you to go somewhere safe!” The tiny plastic firepony hat bounced up and down on her head with each pounding hoofbeat.
“Oh, and leave you, of all ponies, to your own devices? No way that's happening! Somepony has to keep an eye on you!”
“Wait a minute…” Lyra went from full gallop to all-stop in an instant, peering down a side street. “Is that-”
Bon-Bon slammed into her at full speed. The two tumbled head-over-hooves and landed in a heap.
“WHY DID YOU STOP?” said Bon-Bon, in a carefully controlled, polite voice. No, just kidding. It was basically an exasperated screech.
“I think I just saw Carrot Top over there!”
“Wonderful. Shall we invite her for tea and cakes OR SHOULD WE MAYBE GET TO FIGHTING THESE FIRES?”
“She didn’t look right… I’m going to go check it out!” and she ran off.
Bon-Bon heaved a sigh. That mare was crazy. And besides that, did she never tire? Getting up wearily on her hooves, Bon-Bon took off after the inexhaustible, manic unicorn.
. . .
Pinkie-Kage slipped quietly into Sugarcube Corner, closing the door without a sound. Stealthily crawling across the floor, towards the counter, she froze when she noticed Mrs. Cake watching her from next to the front window, babies Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake balanced on her back. Mrs. Cake did not seem particularly surprised to find Pinkie Pie dressed as a ninja sneaking into her own home, because, really, it was Pinkie Pie. “Hello dear,” Mrs. Cake said sleepily. She’d been keeping an eye out the front window, making sure the fires on the other side of town weren’t spreading closer.
Pinkie-Kage immediately shrunk back, and struck a defensive martial arts posture.
“Daimyō no ējento! Yōjin, watashi wa Ninja Jūhakkei no chimei-tekina hōhō de kunren o ukete imasu. Watashi wa to honrō subeki ninja gozen arimasen!”[2]
Mrs. Cake was not fazed. “That’s nice dear. Would you like a snack?”
“Sore wa, watashi wa tatakau tame ni koko ni inai watashi no tame ni, anata wa watashi ga shokuji no ryō teikyō suru koto wa yoku aru. Watashi wa shōgun no gen'in ni anata no enjo o kashite anata o kongan shi, daimyō no waru gen'in o hōki surudarou. Wareware wa ue no... Kore o okonaunaraba Tabun... Kappukēki wa, son'nani yoi!”[3] Pinkie-Kage replied, her voice dark and serious.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” said the unflappable baker, going to the kitchen and returning with a tray of cupcakes skillfully balanced on her head.
Pinkie-Kage seized one, then turned her back to Mrs. Cake so the baker could not see her face when she lifted her mask to devour the treat. When she turned back to Mrs. Cake, the mask had been replaced, but had crumbs all over it.
“Watashitachiha issho ni pan ga kowarete iru koto o ima, watashi wa futatabi anata o tazuneru: Anata ga tochi no seitōna ryōshu, shōgun no chikara o anata no buki o hōki surudarou ka? Anata wa aku daimyō de anata no kizuna o tokasu nodeshou ka?”[4] Pinkie-Kage said, after swallowing.
“Of course dear, of course,” replied Mrs. Cake, waving her hoof indifferently. “Whatever you say.”
Pinkie-Kage rose on her hind hooves, placed her forehooves together, and bowed (an extraordinarily difficult gesture for a pony, but not for a ninja), and then leapt to the door, threw it open without a sound, and was gone back into the night.
Mrs. Cake yawned, and returned to blearily staring out the window.
. . .
Carrot Top’s head was splitting. Her vision was a white haze. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She ran, blindly, in no direction in particular, occasionally feeling a massive discharge of magical energy blast out of her new horn, which briefly provided her with the faintest relief.
Where was she? Who was she? Where was she going? When would the pain stop!? Was that a train? Oops!
. . .
Daisy and Lily had begged for Shovel Face to take them with him to Canterlot, and he'd quickly agreed to let them ride in the engine with him.
Iron Horse had given him a questioning glance as he brought the mares aboard, then shrugged. Flat Cap had simply nudged Shovel Face with an elbow, then given him a wink and a discrete hoofbump.
Shovel Face moved like he had never moved before. This new confidence inside him... it was the greatest feeling he had ever felt. He knew he could do anything! And so his every action prepping the train for departure was swift and decisive. That Daisy and Lily were looking on admiringly didn't hurt.
Before any time at all, and much to the relief of the uneasy passengers, there was a jolt, and the train slowly started to inch forward.
That was when Carrot Top burst out of a side street, her horn glowing with uncontrollable arcane power, and blasted the roof of the train, setting seven of the ten cars instantly aflame. And the fire started spreading forward and backward from there almost immediately.
"Oh Celestia!" Iron Horse swore. His first thought was to immediately apply the train's brake shoes. He pulled the lever back hard.
The five in the engine cab listened. They heard the screeching grind of the wheels against the brake pads, then frowned in unison as they heard a shriek of twisting metal, a thunk, and then felt the train pick up speed again. Aw, peas. Well, hey, that's okay, there were failsafes.
Flat Cap started running back to the passenger cars to evacuate the passengers as Shovel Face climbed around the outside of the coal hopper, found the countersteam brake wheel, and turned it. This worked somewhat like stopping the train by putting it in reverse, sort of. It basically changed the arrangement of the valve gear, the part that connected between the wheel rods and the piston, such that the piston now drove the wheel rod so that it turned the wheels counterclockwise instead of clockwise, effectively reversing the train. And wow, you did not need to know all that about steam locomotive operation. Just... it's a backup brake that sort of throws the train in reverse, then, how about that?
Anyway, Shovel Face was quick to realize that there was not nearly enough resistance as he turned the wheel. He did a very daring lean to look under the train, to see the coupling bar had fallen out. Okay... well, there were still a couple more failsafes.
The fire was spreading close now, he could feel the iron of the hopper start to heat up under his hooves. Pretty soon the situation would be out of hand.
Flat Cap saw Shovel Face leaning off the side of the train, frantically waving his hat. He ran through the smoke, coughing, and fumbled to the car brake line. He pulled it. He felt the shudder as ten cars' wheels stopped turning, working against the engine's wheels. Then, there was a hiss, followed by a fwoosh. The air line had melted, and leaked all of its air into the fire.
He waved a negative out the window at Shovel Face, then ran back, coughing, to get as many ponies off the train as he could.
Shovel Face gritted his teeth. Okay. Well, they could disconnect the cars. He leaned down, sweating in the scorching heat of the approaching flames. He could actually see the sweat steam off of his scalding hoof as he tried to pull the coupling pin, but it was just too hot.
Or... they could not disconnect the cars.
Shovel Face ran back up to the engine cab. "We're officially a runaway. Evacuate the train, you have to get off before we start moving too fast," he said to Daisy, Lily, and Iron Horse.
"What about you, Shovel?" asked Iron Horse.
Shovel Face levitated his shovel. "I'll be right behind you, there's something I gotta do first."
. . .
Lyra watched as unicorn(?!) Carrot Top's head glowed, and a white hot magic blast shot out and hit the train!
"Oh no, what have I done?!" cried Carrot Top.
Lyra briefly toyed with the idea of running after Carrot Top to help her, but the train fire proved too tantalizing.
Hero time, thought Lyra, galloping after the train.
"Lyra!" Bon-Bon said as she reached the scene, "Wait! Lyra!"
Lyra leapt off the platform at full gallop, reaching for the rear of the train.
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1. Shovel Face is a terrible terrible name... Oh.. nevermind then.
2. I get the distinct feeling you are having lots of fun writing this and don't care what others think. Bravo to you, good sir or maam! Bravo!
3120946
1. It is. It so is.
2. I am!
...though, I have to say, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun without people reading and commenting. I appreciate it an awful lot!
The feeling of that honestly rather touching scene about Celestia's dreams and the stress of constantly being in the public eye lasted me through her waking up and even survived Rarity vs the TMNC. And then there was Shovel Face, and the fic was made of chaos again.
I think I'm going to steal this idea of Lyra if I ever write her, by the way. I've been loving the reduced focus on human-obsession in favor of having her just be extremely hyperactive and childish. It's kind of like Pinkie Pie, but without the randomness, fourth wall gags, and violations of the laws of physics.
3122584
Yeah, talk about whiplash on that! A little seriousness to balance the chaos just felt right. I just really like writing about Celestia. I think she's one of the most fascinating characters in the show. And Shovel Face... well, he wound up kind of stealing the chapter from me (not that I mind).
And yeah, I personally view Lyra as generally, rather than specifically obsessive. Humans are one of her interests, but not her only interest, and she just gets a little... too into her flights of fancy, regardless of what those might be this week. Good thing Bon-Bon's around to (try) to keep her grounded somewhat. I'm glad you like it! Feel free to commandeer it!
So many things that were great here!
I have no idea if I should put all these epic bits into quotes and have a brilliance compendium or if I should just give it a blanket but less fulfilling "Great Chapter"... And I can't find any conventions mistakes, like at all. This is great stuff. So... I guess option two, hm?
I get the feeling that Rarity, Shovel Face, and Lyra are all about to become big damn heroes.
And right after they'll get shunted into the sidelight.