Ruler of Everything

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Interference

The Doctor frowned and pointed at the Interface. “That’s not turned on,” he said.

The Valeyard pursed his lips. “Admittedly not. It would have made a far better prop, were it active, but needs must.”

“An’ what needs are those, exactly?” Applejack asked, glaring at the Valeyard.

Everypony tensed. “Uh, AJ…” Mac muttered. “Maybe don’t antagonize ‘im.”

She snorted. “Ah ain’t never caved to no bully before, an’ Ah ain’t about t’ start now. What’s yer game, Valeyard? Y’all keep actin’ like ya got a plan, but it seems like all y’all are interested in is yankin’ all our chains an’ makin’ us feel bad. What exactly are y’all gettin’ out of this?”

The Valeyard sneered. “As I said before, I am not about to start detailing the finer points of our evil plan to you, like some two-bit moustache-twirling melodrama twerp. I--”

He paused suddenly and tilted his head. “What, really? You must be joking.”

“...Who is he talking to?” Shining Armor muttered.

“At a guess? Whoever his partner happens to be,” the Doctor responded.

“Well, yeah, I’d guessed that much,” Shining said. “Who do you think it is?”

The Doctor shrugged.

“Thanks,” Shining said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a big help.”

The Valeyard sighed and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. “Fine. I’ll do -- Fine! I said fine! Have it your own way.” He scowled at the assembled ponies.

“Troubles with the guy upstairs?” Discord asked sweetly. “Such a pity.”

“We are in an equal partnership,” the Valeyard said stiffly.

“Seemed to overrule you pretty easily for an equal partner,” Discord said, sickly-sweet venom hanging on every word. “Perhaps we should be talking to the organ grinder; he seems more open to conversation.”

The Valeyard’s mouth drew into a tight line. “My associate has many names,” he said. “You are familiar with some of them, I’m sure. Currently, she goes by Saviltride, although as ever, the more common ‘Nightmare’ is always welcome.”

Luna’s hackles rose and Sombra went as stiff as a board. The Doctor nodded tightly. “Can’t say I expected much different,” he said. “How did the old entity take your stepping on their line, hm? Celestia said its name right before you brought us here, and then, well, you took all the credit.”

“Pah. ‘Nightmare’ is so terribly common a name. So plebian, unimaginative. When the universe is ours, we will reign in my name as a single gestalt entity.”

Luna scowled slightly.

“I mean, Saviltride is no better,” the Doctor said. “That’s just flat-out stealing from old Zagreus, and stealing an anagram of ‘Evil TARDIS’ is just, well…” he raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "It could do better."

“It doesn’t… it doesn’t matter,” the Valeyard ground out through gritted teeth. “It will leave your TARDIS and enter into me. The TARDIS was merely neutral ground for us. It preserved my potential in the Matrix after you thought you had overcome me. In return, I allowed it access to my -- and by extension, your -- TARDIS.”

The Doctor nodded slowly. “I see. How long --”

“It scarcely matters. The TARDIS allowed us unfettered access to your timestream, inserting traumatic and emotionally disturbing events into your past. If you insist on linearity, however, it was from the moment you regenerated into your seventh body that I was able to exert more control over your travels. Did you never wonder why you arrived in steadily darker places, with ever more difficult moral quandaries?”

“All the way up to the Time War,” the Doctor said softly.

“Precisely. We can’t take full credit for that, of course, but we did our best to hinder you along the way. Do you remember taking Fey Truscott-Sade out of her war and into yours? Do you remember watching her die in agony trying to save the children you had left behind? Do you remember watching from the door of your TARDIS?”

“I couldn’t save her,” the Doctor said quietly. His eyes blazed. “There was nothing I could do.”

The Valeyard shrugged. “Possibly, possibly not. The plan was always to navigate you into a situation where you couldn’t escape being me. To bring you so low in your despair and disgust that you would inevitably become everything you hate.”

The Doctor breathed slowly through his nose for several seconds. Then, he shrugged. “Well. Props to you for trying, I suppose. You did come surprisingly close…”

“Oh, yes. The encounter with the last Dalek was a particularly fine touch, I thought, although the Racnoss Queen may have come a little too close to your ultimate death.”

“There but for the grace of Donna go I,” the Doctor mused. Then he grinned. “Ah. But they’ve always been your pitfall, haven’t they? My friends are my salvation, and your destruction. You really were an idiot to bring them here.”

“Was I?” The Valeyard gestured at Rarity. There was a snapping sound, and she was surrounded by a transparent wall of gold.

Spike grabbed at the golden bubble, but to no avail. His claws slid off as soon as they touched it. Rarity glanced around. “Darlings? What’s happening?” she demanded.

“A bubble put out of sync with time,” the Doctor muttered. “An area put under your temporal control…”

“I… I don’t feel well,” Rarity said. Fluttershy looked through at her and gasped. Her skin was growing wrinkled, and her mane was turning silver.

“She’s aging,” the Valeyard said. “In a moment, she will reach the end of her life and expire. All I want is your body, Doctor. I want -- I need to replace you. Do this, and I will restore her youth. Refuse, and I will work through your friends one by one until there are none left. Your wife will be next.”

Rarity’s eyes were sunken and her breathing was rheumy. Her skin had withered to practically her skeleton, and her coat was patchy and stiff.

The Doctor stared at the Valeyard for a long minute. “Celestia,” he said.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“The Valeyard is going to turn Rarity back now.”

Celestia blinked. “Er… is he?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Because if he doesn’t, you’re going to fry me like a fish finger.”

Ditzy looked at the Doctor nervously. “Um, Doctor…”

“Simple mathematics,” the Doctor said. “He may be protected from the ravages of your magic by the Nightmare and the Matrix, but I'm not. He’s in my future. If I die now, he can’t exist. Q. E. bloody D. Ball’s in your court, Valeyard.”

The Valeyard let out a long sigh. “You just had to make this difficult, didn’t you?” he spat. Rarity’s breathing eased and her skin plumped back to full health, her vitality reentering her body. With a careless gesture, the Valeyard banished the bubble. Spike fell on Rarity, hugging her tight to his chest and sobbing.

The Doctor smiled briefly, but stopped as the Valeyard sneered back at him. “That was only the easy way, Doctor. The rest will not be so light on the casualties.”

He began to fade from view again. Before he vanished completely, Luna called out to him. “Valeyard. A word of warning. You may think the Nightmare is an equal partner, but it is not. It will consume you utterly.”

The Valeyard grinned back at her. “You might tell it the same about me.” Cheshire Cat-like, the Valeyard’s smile hung in the air for several seconds after the rest of his body was gone.

---

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom ran down the corridor, screaming all the way. Of course, they couldn’t really be heard over the crashing and roaring of Jim, who was terrifyingly close behind them. “Little ponies should not run away!” Jim shouted. “Let Jim make little ponies pretty!”

Scootaloo kind of felt bad for the guy. He had a dream, and he was working hard to make it happen. On the other hand, the whole ‘foalnapping Apple Bloom’ thing put that idea into sharp perspective, and the fact that Jim could probably squash their whole party like insects if he wasn’t careful made it hard to feel anything for him but fear.

Up ahead, Apple Bloom saw a winking gold arrow for a few seconds, pointing down a thin passageway. Then, in glittering green letters, she read the words, ‘Shut your eyes in 5! :)’.

“Scoots?” Bloom called.

‘Shut your eyes in 4! :)’

“I see it!”

‘3!’

Jim bellowed, tearing boulders from the walls as he pulled himself forward.

‘2!’

Scootaloo squealed in terror as a wave of loose gravel sprinkled her mane.

‘1!’

Both mares shut their eyes tight, continuing to race ahead full-tilt.

‘0! B)’

A brilliant golden-white light illuminated the tunnels for a half-second. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo could see it through their eyelids. Jim got a far better and more dazzling view. The cave troll bellowed in pain, reeling back from the blinding light. While he struggled to regain his vision, Scootaloo and Bloom reopened their eyes and hurried into the adjoining tunnel.

Scootaloo opened her mouth to thank Dinky for the save, but Rumble immediately raised a wing to his lips in a shushing gesture.

All six crept further down the corridor. Behind them, they could hear Jim fumbling around in the main tunnel. “Little ponies? Little ponies, where have you gone? Please do not run away from Jim!”

The party was about to move farther down the corridor, but there came another sound that gave them pause. It was a faint kind of rumbling noise, interspersed with rhythmic humming. It came from the tunnel they had just left, and it seemed to be getting louder.

“Oh,” said Jim. “Hello, little saltshaker.” The noise paused for a moment.

The Crusaders glanced at one another in confusion. “Salt shaker?” Dinky mouthed.

“Have you seen any little ponies around here?”

There was a pause, and then a long whistle. “Saltshaker? Do you understand Jim?”

The original rumbling and humming started up again. “Do not run from Jim, saltshaker!”

A clattering of stone and metal echoed down the hallway, followed quickly by a sharp hissing sound and a small explosion. “Eyes!” Jim shrieked. There was a crash, and then loud wailing and fading footfall as the cave troll raced away.

They all waited until the sound of Jim’s running faded to nothing. There was a long pause. “We oughta go see what that was about,” Apple Bloom said.

“Agreed,” Rumble said with a decisive nod.

“Really?” Dinky said. “Now you want to actively go wandering into danger?”

“Aren’t you curious about what just happened?” Button asked.

“Well, yeah. Obviously,” Dinky said. “But I’m more worried about going back where that troll might find us again.”

“Jim,” Scootaloo corrected. “His name was Jim. And he didn’t seem like he was particularly eager to come back here, did he?”

Sweetie squinted down the hall. “Yeah. I think we’re gonna have to go back no matter what,” she said, lighting her horn. The green sparkles played over the dead-end only several meters down the hall from them.

“Ah,” Dinky said. “Yeah, that does put a new spin on the matter.”

The six trotted out together. “So,” Dinky said. “I noticed you were able to make some constructs and symbols a minute ago.”

Sweetie tilted her head. “Yeah? And?”

“You’re recovering remarkably well for someone who just got their magic eaten.”

“Oh.” Sweetie lit her horn again and her eyes widened. “It doesn’t feel sore anymore! I mean, I definitely haven’t got all my magic back, but my reserves are definitely fuller…”

“Interesting…” Dinky said. “We’ll have to look into that later.”

The two unicorns had fallen behind the rest of the group, something that became eminently clear when they walked into the rest of their friends.

“What?” Dinky asked, trying to peer around them. “What’s wrong -- oh.”

A robot lay on the floor, weakly humming and whistling. It looked like a series of domes stacked atop one another, with an array of ball bearings set along its bottom. Sticking out of a gap near the middle of the machine was some manner of probe, or possibly a gun. Its chromium-plated sides were dented in finger-shaped patterns, and one of its domes was cracked, and leaking oil across the floor.

“Ya poor thing…” Apple Bloom ran a hoof over its casing. “Button? What kinda tools you got in that bag of yours?”

“Mmm…” Button considered that, letting the bag slide to the floor. “Mostly pliers, wrenches, that sort of thing. Fiddly stuff. Why?”

“Ah wanna try an’ fix this fella up.”

Dinky groaned. “Seriously, Bloom? It’s only a machine. We’ve got to worry about our friends and family.”

“It saved our hides,” Bloom said. “We owe it somethin’. Mebbe it can fight off other stuff, too.”

“This is ridiculous,” Dinky said. “We’re moving on. Button, give me the map.”

There was a long, painful pause. “The map,” Button said, voice hollow.

“...Yeah. That’s what I said.”

Button took in a deep breath. “Uh. I think that maybe… I might’ve dropped it while we were running.”

Dinky closed her eyes. “Did you.”

“Uh, maybe. Or, um, it might just be back in the side tunnel, I’ll go and check for it, see you!”

He bolted for the dead-end hall again. Dinky sighed. “Sweetie. Go keep an eye on him.”

“Right.”

Rumble stared down the hall resolutely. “So. We’re lost, huh?”

“Seems that way,” Dinky said.

“Don’t know how to get above ground.”

“I certainly don’t.”

Rumble sucked in his breath through his teeth. “Right. This is… fine. This is fine.”

“C’mon,” Scootaloo said. “Have a hug, big guy.”

Rumble scooped up his tiny friend in his arms and held her tight, staring, unseeing and glassy-eyed, into the darkness of the tunnels.

---

Nurse Redheart consulted Sweetie Belle’s magic IV drip again. “She’s going to be due for another bag soon,” she muttered. The level of the sparkling pink fluid in the bag was getting visibly lower with each passing minute.

Sweetie Belle and Twilight were thus far the only ones to be hooked up to magic drips, but Redheart had been precipitous enough to send word to Canterlot asking that emergency supplies be flown in immediately.

The hospital was doing its best to help all its patients as best it could, but it simply wasn’t designed to handle the incredible influx of coma patients, nor the unique species on display in its incredibly overcrowded ward. Extra beds had been wheeled in to fit everypony. Discord took up three all by themself. In Redheart’s opinion, that was no less a nuisance than they would have wanted to be while awake.

She was getting tired. Actually, she had skipped past ‘tired’ some hours back and was cruising through weary straight to exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to go home and pass out. Tartarus, she could take a hospital cot right now. Weeks of emergency night shifts had taken their toll before, but this felt worse, as though the energy was being sapped straight from her bones.

Maybe it was the visitors. The families were still here in their late evening vigil. They didn’t show signs of leaving any time soon, either.

She caught Tender’s eye for a fraction of a moment before quickly looking away. She had to maintain professionalism right now. She was on the clock. Nothing could distract her. She couldn’t let it. Oh, Celestia, if she could only have a two-hour nap…

Redheart paused. Everypony’s eyes were on her. “Ah. Um… how much of that did I say aloud?” she asked.

“I think you started out maintaining professionalism,” Hondo Flanks said.

“Ah. Yes.” Redheart nodded. “Very important in my line of work.”

“Red…” Tender Care began gently.

“No.” Redheart said, shaking her head. “No. Whatever you’re about to say, it isn’t happening. I’m fine.”

“Hon, you’re exhausted,” Tender said. “You get sloppy when you’re exhausted, and snappish. Take a rest, just for --”

“No!” Redheart stamped her hoof. She was aware that she was being childish, proving her marefriend’s point, but she really didn’t care. “I have a duty of care for every creature in this room, and might I add, that does include you. I can’t just wander off and take a nap. I have responsibilities, and frankly, even if I wanted to, I don't think I could sleep for all the stress today's put on me."

Tender nodded. “Interesting. What do you think, Romana?”

Redheart blinked, but before she could register the Time Lady’s presence, the unicorn had already put her hooves to the nurse’s head. Redheart’s last mental defenses crumbled like a sandcastle, and she fell into a peaceful slumber in Romana’s hooves.

Tender nodded. “How long will she be out?”

Romana waved a hoof uncertainly. “An hour, maybe two, depending on a number of factors. She’ll feel like she slept for around ten, which to be honest was the least I could do. Until then, I believe that I’m the only medically qualified person here, so--”

“Ya ain’t.”

Romana paused and looked at Granny. “Come again?”

The old mare shrugged. “Ah got some expertise. Trained as a nurse back when Ah was younger, fer volunteer work, an’ patchin’ up folk on the farm.”

Romana nodded. “Fair enough. You and I are in charge for now, then.”

“And me,” Tender said. “I may not be a medical doctor, but from what I understand, this is as much a mental trauma as it is physical.”

“That seems reasonable as well,” Romana conceded. “We’ll need to work together to take care of the patients while Redheart sleeps it off.”

“Uh, ‘scuse me,” said Cooking Crumbles. “Shouldn’t we call in another nurse, or a doctor? Someone with actual current medical credentials?”

“And admit to knocking Nurse Redheart unconscious?” Romana asked, arching an eyebrow. “It was for her own good, but I doubt hospital security will take that as much of a defense.”

“So… they’d kick us out?” Thunderlane asked.

“It seems likely,” Romana said, shrugging. “If we need help, we can ask for it. In the meantime… Cloudchaser, Flitter. Go get Redheart tucked up in a cot somewhere.”

“You got it,” Cloudchaser said, pulling the nurse up into a firemare’s carry.

“Hondo, Cookie, go wait for the medical supplies Redheart ordered from Canterlot. Everypony else… check the vital signs. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

---

Dinky paced up and down the corridor, agitated. “There has to be some way of finding our way around down here.”

“Uh-huh,” Bloom said, studying a series of tubes within the machine.

“I remember that the tower was to the northeast of us when you got foalnapped,” Dinky continued.

“Mmm,” Bloom said, affixing the tubes to nozzles one by one.

“So maybe… we traveled southeast to get to the troll cave,” Dinky mused. “Then a little more east… The tower should be just due north of us.”

“Through a rock wall,” Bloom noted.

“...Yes, that is the primary obstacle, I’d say.”

Rumble lay on the floor, watching Dinky pace. It was relaxing, a rhythmic pattern in this unpredictable realm of darkness and walls. Scootaloo sat beside him, gently petting his mane.

Sweetie Belle stepped out of the dead-end tunnel.

“Any luck?” Dinky asked, not turning around.

“None,” Button confirmed, trudging out behind Sweetie, his head down.

Dinky sighed, stopping her pacing to sit down. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Hey, Sweetie Belle. If I cast a shield spell around the six of us, and you cast the locator spell…”

“Then we’d essentially turn into a pinball,” Sweetie said, matter-of-factly.

“Ah. Bad.”

“Very much so.”

Dinky groaned and flopped fully to the ground.

Sweetie Belle carefully picked her way around her fallen friends to sit next to Apple Bloom. “Need a little light?” she asked.

“Ah’d sorely appreciate it.”

Sweetie lit her horn, and shimmering green light illuminated the innards of the machine.

“What do you think it is?” Sweetie asked.

“Don’t rightly have a name for it. Looks to be some kinda… Ah dunno. Built fer exploration, though. This looks to be an all-terrain vehicle. Got data-gathering doodads, like this here. Built for soil analysis. On th’ other hand, it’s got more than a few weapons, too. Ah think this was what it used on ol’ Jimmy.”

She gestured to a system of thin hoses that led to a nozzle. “This here sprays ammonia vapor. Sounded like he got it right in th’ eyes.”

Sweetie winced. “Sounds unpleasant.”

“Yep. Cave trolls are tough buggers, though. Ah’d be surprised if he got anything permanent or particularly severe off th’ back of it.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

There was a long pause as Bloom wrapped electrical tape around a series of cracked hoses. Eventually, Sweetie said, “I wanted to apologize.”

Apple Bloom glanced up from her work, surprised. “Huh?”

“Y’know. For earlier. After we left Vinyl and Octavia’s house.”

“Oh!” Bloom said, her eyes clearing. Then they darkened again. “Oh.”

“I still don’t really understand what I said wrong,” Sweetie admitted. “But I won’t press the issue anymore, I promise. I just wanted you to know.”

Apple Bloom sighed and picked up a monkey wrench. “Ah’m th’ one that oughta be apologizin’,” she said. “You didn’t say nothin’ wrong. Ah had a lotta pent-up anger, an’ you were… well, you were convenient, is all. Ah overreacted, bad, an’ Ah’m truly sorry for that.” She sighed.

“So…” Sweetie trailed off. “Do you want to talk about it, or nah?”

Apple Bloom looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Well… Ah don’t reckon this is a great time for that kinda conversation.”

“Fair enough.”

“On th’ other hoof, we ain’t exactly got much else goin’ on…” Apple Bloom sighed. “Alright, why not.”

Sweetie nodded, adjusting her place on the floor. Apple Bloom squeezed the wrench around a bolt and twisted. “You ever feel like… maybe ponies don’t like you that much? Like, they like you well enough to pretend to like you, but they really can’t relate to you, an’ you can’t relate to them, an’ maybe they’re actually pretty disappointed in how you turned out?”

Sweetie blinked. “Uh… no, not really.”

“Oh. Just me, then.”

“No! No, not just you. I mean, I haven’t really experienced it personally, but I know other ponies have. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great.”

“Ya think so?”

“Sure. You’re so skilled at so many things. Carpentry, potion-making, welding… therapy, if what I overheard at Octavia and Vinyl’s place is anything to go by.”

“...Yeah,” Bloom admitted. “An’ that’s all great. But when it comes to farmin’... well, Ah ain’t too much better than any other earth pony. Ah ain’t good at sellin’ apples, Ah’m alright at cookin’ with ‘em, but no better than Ah am at anythin’ else in th' kitchen… Ah ain’t got no apple on mah flank, Sweetie. Ah literally got this mark sendin’ mah parents to die. It stands against everythin’ the Apple Family is about. Is it any wonder Ah think Ah might be a failure in their eyes?”

Sweetie Belle nodded slowly. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Y’all just told me you didn’t.”

“I can’t emphasize, but I can still sympathize,” Sweetie pointed out. “It sounds like you’ve built up a pretty strong motive for your family to be disappointed in you. But Bloom -- where’s the evidence?”

Apple Bloom grunted, yanking a bolt tight. “Come again?”

“Have they ever acted anything less than loving toward you?” Sweetie asked. “Or changed their attitude toward you since you got your mark?”

Bloom considered that. “They ain’t treatin’ me like a little filly so much, these days.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?”

“Yeah, but--” Bloom set down her tools and rubbed her forehead, frustrated. “Just-- Ah’m through with talkin’ ‘bout this right now. Jus’ sit there an’ light up this guy’s innards, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sweetie said brightly.

Apple Bloom sighed, picked up her tools, and focused on rebuilding something she didn’t understand. It helped to distract her from the fact that she was failing to rebuild something else.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

The friction between the Valeyard and Nightmare is certainly interesting. After all, you need friction to hold something. And to manipulate it.

The thing about manipulating someone into despair and self-hatred is that they will have zero compunctions about offing themselves to thwart your plans.

“Oh,” said Jim. “Hello, little saltshaker.”

Uh oh...
Oh. Seems like the salt shaker isn't a pepperpot. Good to see.

“You’re recovering remarkably well for someone who just got their magic eaten.”

Hmm. Psychosomatic damage to something so ephemeral would probably be easy to recover. Out of sight, out of mind. And in the Matrix, out of mind, out of existence.
... Or she could be getting an IV drip in reality. Don't mind me, just throwing hypotheses at the wall and seeing what sticks.

but this felt worse, as though the energy was being sapped straight from her bones.

Could be emotional from seeing the collected god-queens of the nation in comas. Could be something worse.

And poor Bloom. She's definitely an Apple in one respect. The family stubborn streak's running through her as much as anypony, even when it comes to sticking to a hurtful narrative she's crafted for herself. After all, if she lets her relationship with her family deteriorate enough, she'll have an excuse to leave Ponyville. And that same stubbornness keeps her from acknowledging both what she's doing and the price she's paying. Still, hopefully having friends around will make her face her actions before it's too late.

Great stuff this chapter. Definitely looking forward to more.

[Shilic]

Interference is one of the Wilderness Years Novels. I never read it. I probably should get around to them.

Zagreus is one of the Big Finish Audio Stories. I never listened to it. I probably should get around to them.

Fey Truscott-Sade is from the Doctor Who Magazine comics. I never read them. From experience, I know trying to read them now is a pain. I also should probably stop this bit now that I've completed the Rule of Threes.

Something about this "saltshaker" seems familiar. I'm reasonably sure it's not a Dalek, it's almost certainly not a Quark, and I can't think of any other similar species off the top of my head, but even still...

[Coyote de La Mancha]

Did you never wonder why you arrived in steadily darker places, with ever more difficult moral quandaries?”

“All the way up to the Time War,” the Doctor said softly.

Oh. Oh, crap.

Yeah, I was also expecting the salt shaker to be a pepperpot. Heh. Got me. I wonder what it actually is...