Blink Again

by Amarandream

1 - Another Me

Twilight’s last day in Equestria was one of the most perfect, mild-mannered, and all-around beautiful days Ponyville had been graced with in well over a month. It was as if the pegasus weather teams had cleared up the storms and Princess Celestia had warmed the sun just for the sake of making that particular afternoon as pleasant as could be for her and her alone. Of course, neither the pegasi nor Celestia could have been aware of the importance of that day—and in fact, neither was Twilight, as evidenced by the way she galloped about her castle yelling rather than taking the time to savor it.

“Spike! Spike? Spike, where are you?”

“Relax!” the summoned voice called back. “I’m in the kitchen!”

“Oh, good.” Twilight trotted into the aforementioned room. “Have you seen my gift for Rainbow Dash? I swear I’ve looked everywhere! I’m starting to think Trixie took it just to mess with me.”

“Trixie didn’t take it,” Spike responded distractedly, not taking his attention from some sort of dish he was preparing. “It’s sitting right where you left it, over on the table.”

Twilight snapped her head to the side, blinking in stunned confusion. “Oh, so it is. Strange. I thought I checked in here.” She gave a small frown, considered knocking herself upside the head for her own forgetfulness, then muttered, “very well then,” before sliding the gift-wrapped copy of Daring Do and the Secrets of Brodfeld into her saddlebags.

Now, normally, a Daring Do book would not make an adequate present for Rainbow Dash. With as much as Rainbow loved the books, there was usually a near-zero chance that she hadn’t already acquired a signed copy from the author on or even before the official release date. This was a special case, however.

This newest novel had undergone an extremely limited release—available for only a single day, and only across the Seaddle-Tackoma area. Why this was, nopony could say. Apparently, far fewer copies than planned had shipped out, and none at all outside the one region, much to the dismay of booksellers who were expecting the novel. Worse, A. K. Yearling chose precisely that time to disappear, as she so often did when she was secretly out as Daring Do. To date, not one word on the failed launch had been received from her.

Twilight was not one to give up easily though. She’d gone to Seaddle and asked near every pony in sight until she found one willing to sell her their copy, and In the end, she’d been rewarded for her diligence. Rainbow’s moaning at having missed out would soon come to a close.

With the book secure, Twilight turned her focus back to her wonderful assistant. "Well, Spike, I'm off! I'll see you at the party later. Try not to be late this time."

The baby dragon finally spun to face her, throwing up his hands as he did and almost knocking a glass off the counter as a result. "That was one time, and you were the one taking me!"

Twilight chuckled nervously. "Oh, right. Anyway, Pinkie's waiting on me. I'm supposed to help with preparations at four. Rainbow's birthday is going to be amazing!"

"Oh, speaking of," Spike twisted around to grab the item he’d been so focused on off the counter behind him. "Pinkie's been teaching me some new baking tricks. I know there’ll be plenty of food there, but I made Rainbow Dash this cupcake." He held up a large treat consumed by a mountain of frosting in all the colors of the rainbow. "It turned out much better than my last one. I didn't even put gems in it this time!" He sighed, then continued again in a muted tone. "Somehow, I don't think Dash would appreciate that as much as Rarity did."

She let out a laugh, already picturing Rainbow cracking her teeth on the gems her number one assistant could easily have forgotten to exclude. Somehow, she knew that pegasus would not have taken the time to notice and then remove any hard objects like Rarity did. It was just a hazard that came with a dragon who occasionally forgot he was baking for somepony else.

The little dragon frowned, crossing his arms and providing her with an exasperated look. "Okay, I get it, I've messed up once or twice, but that doesn't mean you need to laugh at me!"

She shook her head, suddenly wanting very hard to appear to be laughing with him rather than at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. Making that was actually very thoughtful of you. In fact, would you like me to deliver it to the party for you? I could make it the centerpiece of the decorations!"

He brightened instantly, head nodding in vigorous enthusiasm. "Oh, yes, please! I want it to be the first thing she sees when she walks in." He grinned, then leaned in conspiratorially with a claw held up beside his mouth. "You know, just between you and me, I think I might even have Pinkie beat for once. The secret ingredient? A light toasting of dragon fire. You'd be surprised what eating gems on a daily basis can do."

She flashed him a brief smile whilst busying herself with carefully boxing the treat without smudging the frosting. "Well, that sound wonderful, but if you're angling for more gems, I will point out that the science on them effecting the taste of dragon fire is entirely unproven."

He snapped. "Dang, and I thought I was being subtle with that one!"

She scoffed, making sure to do it with a half-smile to show she was just horsing around. "Well, maybe if I was Rainbow Dash that would have flown over my head, but— OH NO!"

"What?" Spike cried out in alarm.

"No, no, no, no!" She stared at the calendar, barely remembering to keep the magic field up around Spike's cupcake. "Three-thirty? How could it be at three-thirty? Spike, I thought you said I had to help with preparations at four."

"I never said that," he exclaimed, offended. "You're the one who said that!"

"It doesn't matter!" She huffed, beginning to hyperventilate. "Pinkie's going to be so mad at me. The whole party will be messed up because I was late to help! And then, you know, Rainbow Dash will be all sad and—"

"Twilight!" Spike yelled. "Don't be ridiculous. They'll understand, but you need to go."

"Right." She took a deep breath and stuffed the boxed cupcake into her bags. "See you later!"

And with that, Twilight teleported.

---

Twilight wasn't at Sugarcube Corner, her intended destination, and that thing before her definitely wasn't Pinkie Pie. No, it came from nothing, bones and muscle forming in midair.

Midair.

Frantically, Twilight looked around, struggling to get some sense of what went wrong. Why was she floating? What was this place? It was too dark. Her eyes strained, shocked near to uselessness by the sudden black, unable to see more than a dozen feet ahead of her. What was that on the wall? Writing? It was red, and only dimly visible, but it looked like it said...

"Grab her! Grab her now!" screamed the dark void below her, mimicking the written words in a voice that seemed almost recognizable, yet hoarse and desperate, just enough off as to leave Twilight uncertain.

The figure before her finished forming, an exact replica of Twilight. The only difference was that it just hung there, limp, lifeless.

Shocked into near-catatonia, she blindly obeyed the still screaming voice. With one strong lunge, powered by wings that felt almost too heavy to move, she locked her forehooves around the clone's neck. Then it disappeared.

Gravity lurched into effect, casually dropping her to the floor, its brief recess finished.

Twilight hit something squishy, bounced, rolled, and splashed through a puddle before coming to a squelching stop.

Then it hit her: the stench—an awful, wretched thing that laid siege to her nostrils and brought a herd of rampaging buffalo through her stomach. She gagged, a butterfly's wingbeat from seeing her lunch make an epic return. It was only a small consolation amongst everything else that she did, in fact, keep said meal down.

"Are you injured?" The voice was the same as earlier, but calmer now, perhaps even weary. Whoever it was, they were right in front of her. Twilight could barely make out their silhouette, owing not only to the darkness, but also to the slimy gunk the fall had readily applied to her face and eyes.

"What?" Twilight said, trying to rub the slime from her eyes with her wing.

"Are you injured?" the voice repeated. "You fell."

"I don't think so. I feel— GAH!" Twilight jumped back, eyes clear and registering for the first time who she communed with. It was herself, Twilight Sparkle—a filthy and quite malnourished Twilight Sparkle, but still, it was unmistakable.

"What are you? A changeling?" Twilight, the real Twilight—or so she thought—backed away, eyes glued on the other.

"No," the other said flatly. "I was you, and soon, you will be me. Every time we teleport, a clone is created and sent to the destination, while the Twilight from before is left here as waste. Now... LOOK AT ME!"

Twilight's head snapped back at the unexpected roar. She had only been about to look around, take stock of her surroundings. Apparently, that wasn't allowed.

The other limped forward, favoring her right foreleg over her left. "Listen, I know this is crazy, but I need your undivided attention. I know your eyes are well on their way to being adjusted by now, but please don't look away from me, not even for a moment. I need a chance to explain some things first. It will make all of this a lot easier. Understood?" She stopped within a foot of her, muzzles almost touching—probably so Twilight couldn't see past her.

Twilight took a deep breath—a mistake, given the stale air and horrid smell—then nodded. She even managed to hide her gag reflex. "Okay. You said this was caused by teleporting? Please explain."

The other nodded, satisfied. "Yes. For our entire life, every time we teleported, we went here. What is sent on is a clone so perfect that not even she can tell the difference. This may come as a shock, but neither of us are the original Twilight Sparkle. By now, the original is over a decade dead. This place is a pocket dimension, spherical in shape and made out of some kind of hard, smooth, grayish material. Otherwise, it is completely devoid of any distinguishing features or natural resources. All we have is what we've teleported at one point or another. What you smell is what remains of the Twilights who came before."

Her mouth dropped, the true horror of the situation sinking in. No. No, it couldn't be. Oh Celestia, no! "We're going to die, aren't we? And it's all our fault."

The other grimly nodded. "Yes. At least now, neither of us will be doing it alone. You may look now, just don't point your muzzle my way when you do."

"Okay." Twilight steeled herself, then turned to face the carnage. There was no way she could have properly prepared herself for what she saw, and as a result, she promptly lost her lunch.

Comments

[Love Moth]

chef's kiss

[TinyPlaidNinjas]

10303011
Chef's wretch

It seemed appropriate, given the story's circumstances

[darklight731]

Well, at least the current Twilight is sane.

[epoqq84]

What happens to us during teleportation is a pretty big philosophical debate. I hope it isn't this