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Chapter 1

Dark… Nothing but dark.

Cold…

Then white… Bright white.

Pinkie finds herself flying through the air. Her first thought is how cold everything feels. The winds chill her to the bone, but to her utter confusion, the rains pelting her are warm… She has little time to think on the matter at hand as she slams into the soft red soil.

She lets off squeaks and moans as she tries to slow down her tumble across the ground. Managing to catch herself, she painfully sits up and lets out a huff. “Ow…” She steadies herself as she sits on her rump.

Her blue-colored eyes study her surroundings.

It's dark.

Pinkie can barely see anything in front of her. It didn’t help that the clouds overhead covering the night sky make it impossible for her to use the stars to pinpoint her location. All the times stargazing with Twilight and building up her skills of navigating the stars is now useless.

Feeling her curly mane and tail losing their luster, Pinkie stands on her hooves and makes her way over to a massive redwood tree to seek cover. Still feeling rain, she glares up at the mighty tree. Its branches are way too high to provide sufficient protection. Shivering like an autumn leaf from a passing breeze, she crosses her arms and leans closer to the tree. “Stupid tree…” She mutters.

Looking around some more, she takes note of how unfamiliar the forest is. To be honest, the tree beside her, hell, all the trees surrounding her look unfamiliar. Their towering might, intimidating in the abyss of the stormy night.

“Oh…” She moans as she feels her mind pound against her skull. “Where am I?” She thinks about where she was last. All she can remember is that she was heading back to the Cake’s bakery with bags of flour in a wheelbarrow. “It was a crisp morning… Not raining?” She rubs her head with her right hand – its three fingers running along her scalp.

A wall of water washes over her, soaking her even further. Causing her mane and tail to flap haphazardly with the winds. Pinkie shivers away the cold chills running across her body as she stares through the darkness. “What happened to me?”

Her mind pounds against her head once again. A shiver runs down her spine. ‘The ground was shaking. Ponies running from something? Bright light…’

CRACK!!!

Lighting erupts in the air like golden arches of light dancing across the sky.

Jumping, Pinkie whips her head around, looking for anything to hide her from the storm overhead.

CRACK!!!

Another, but in the quick flash of light, she sees a cabin appear in the distance. On shaking hooves, she makes her way towards the welcoming sight of shelter and warmth.

As she nears the cabin, its features begin to come into focus. From what she can see, the cabin’s interior is unlit, except for the dim flickering lamp fixture hanging by the front door. Studying it some more, she notices it’s a two-story home, with a green metal roof and thick girthy logs used for its construction.

Shivering from a cold passing breeze, she turns her attention to its door and heads up the porch’s steps.

Free from the rain, Pinkie takes the time to assess the damage done to her. Red soil stains her casual navy blue dress around the knees. The skirt of her dress is soaked as well. The top part of her dress is relatively dry by comparison. Even her short-sleeved jacket a tolerable level of dampness. “At least it won’t take too long to dry!” She breathes a sigh of relief as she grabs the base of her tail and gives it a shake. She does the same to her mane. Deep down, she knows that they’ll be a tattered mess in the morning. “Oh…” She huffs. “Rarity would go bonkers if she sees my mane like this!”

She smirks at that thought.

Patting her jacket as dry as she can, she looks at the cabin’s door. Walking up to it, she gives it a knock. “Hello?” The door swings inward, revealing the cabin’s dark interior. The door’s squealing hinges make her fur stand on end. “Um… Hello?” She peaks in, scanning the darkness nervously.

CRACK!!!

Jumping out of her skin, Pinkie timidly steps into the cabin. “I’m coming in!” She shuts the door behind her. Her eyes strain to see anything. The dim porch light seeping through the front windows barely illuminates the interior. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I’m lost, and it's raining outside!”

Only silence answers back.

“OW!” Pinkie cries as she bumps into what feels like a side table. Smiling, she runs her hands across its surface until she feels the body of a lamp. “Bingo!” She pulls its chain.

Bright light fills the room.

Pinkie scampers back from the offending light. Rubbing her eyes, she lets out a groan as she opens them. The blurriness in her vision leaves her, allowing her to see the abode in all its modest grandness.

“Wow?” Pinkie stares at the décor as she wanders through the living-room, her gawking expression never leaving as she takes in every detail. “Rarity would go nuts!” She stares at the ornate carvings on the pillars holding up the A-frame ceiling that makes up the cabin's front. “So would Twilight…” The thought of her friends saddens her. “I hope I can find a way home… I just hope I’m not too far from Ponyville?” Walking past several rocking chairs, she sees a flatscreen television above the fireplace mantel.

She tilts her head. She has never seen anything like it. It looks like a black-tinted mirror, a mirror that appears to be doing terrible at its job. ‘Why would they own a mirror that dark?’ She tilts her head to the left. ‘And why over the fireplace?’ She manages to catch the reflection of the kitchen behind her.

Turning around, she eyes it staring at the dimly lit space, just catching a glimpse of a fridge. Feeling pain in her stomach, she bites her lower lip as she meanders over to the room.

Stepping through the archway that separated the living room and kitchen, she flips on a light switch allowing the tiny space to be illuminated with soft white light. The four lights above sing an audible hum while the fifth by the laundry room buzzes and flickers.

Ignoring the light, she studies the comfy but modern-looking décor.

The kitchen contains all the obvious appliances a kitchen requires. A silver-colored fridge with a touchscreen display on its right door and a water/ice dispenser on its left door. Bedide the fridge is a gas-powered stove similar in make and color scheme. A black marble laden countertop wraps around the kitchen in an L-shape – dividing the room in two, making the other half into a de facto dining area. Cupboards hang from the walls above the sink and part of the countertop, making it whole and cozy.

Feeling her stomach growl, she steps up to the fridge. “Um, if you can hear me, I was wondering if I could have something to eat?” Eyeing the refrigerator, she notices pictures pinned to its surface by magnets. Curious, she looks at each one, studying the stories they tell.

One of the pictures she looks at shows a two-legged creature like her, wearing red swim trunks. But unlike her, its appearance is vastly different. For starters, it's furless, minus a few spots like its stomach, chest, arms, legs, and armpits. Granted, the fur that’s there is thinner compared to her fur’s thickness by a mile. Its mane is short, its style wavy, and it's tail… well, it has none. Its ears are… well, she couldn’t describe it. They’re small, tiny. ‘How can it hear with those ears?’ She wonders while rubbing her ears with a puzzled look. Looking at the creature some more, she guesses it's a stallion according to its masculine features. Looking down at its hooves… No… Her snout wrinkles as she glares at the stubby appendages attached to its feet. “They’re like Spike’s clawed feet… But less sharp?”

Turning her attention to another picture, she sees the same creature standing next to a similar-looking creature that’s more feminine in appearance. This creature has long blonde hair. Her skin a tan-colored hue compared to the male's pale-white. She notices that, unlike the male, she has no fur on her body. For Pinkie, that’s the strangest thing. Shaking her head of the thought, she stares at the final two creatures in the photo. Standing in front of the male and female are two smaller creatures, a boy and a girl. “They must be their children?”

She looked at the two pictures for some time. But the more she looks, her smile turns into a frown.

“Never seen ponies… I mean creatures like them?” Pinkie turns her attention to the other photos on the fridge. “They seem so happy…” She looks at her surroundings. “It feels wrong being in their house without asking…” She forces herself to smile, however. “Maybe I can make it up to them by baking them a cake!” She gazes at the photos again. “Then again, I haven’t seen creatures like them… and they might not have seen creatures like me?”

She’s drawn to another photo.

This particular photo shows the boy and girl playing with an even stranger-looking creature. The creature seems to be made of metal if she could believe it. Its body is circular, about three feet in diameter – three large camera-looking eyes stick out of its body just above its equator line. Four lanky arms jut out and hang from its base alongside a cylindrical tube-like contraption surrounded by three blue glowing rings.

A smile grows across her lips.

“I hope I can meet these creatures?” Her smile falters again. “I just hope they’re not mad at me for entering their home without asking…” She bites on her nails on her left hand. “And the cake I’ll make for them?” Feeling her stomach growl once more. She blushes and gently opens the fridge.

A faint musty smell assaults her snout. Then a horrid one. To her horror, the fridge’s interior is mostly bare, and what food remained had rotted away long ago. Holding the urge to puke, she slams the fridge shut and steps back, holding a hand over her mouth.

“Oh…” Taking a deep breath to rid her mind of the awful smell, she looks teary-eyed at her surroundings. The flickering light buzzing loudly above her head unnerves her already tattered emotions. “Is any pony even here?”

She listens to the quiet.

For anything…

Just rain. Only the drumming of the rain.

Just wind. Only the howling of the wind.

Gulping down a knot forming in her throat, she wanders back into the living room. “No… Err!” Her headache returns. “Where am I?”

CRASH!!!

She pins herself against the back of the couch, scanning her surroundings, looking for the source of the noise.

CLUNK!!!

Hearing it coming from the back of the house, Pinkie slowly makes her way over to the first-floor hallway. Standing before its entrance, she stares down the darkness. She can make out a room on either side of the hall and a bathroom at the end.

THUMP!!!

Looking directly to her right, she sees a flight of stairs leading to the basement. “Those loud sounds are coming from down there…” Again, she hears what sounds like a bag of bricks being dragged across the floor. Her awareness heightens. The fur on the back of her neck stands erect as she descends the stairs. “Hello?”

Getting to the bottom of the steps, she finds that only darkness graces her vision. The lights from the other rooms barely illuminate the basement. She sniffs the air. It's musty. The distinctive smell of wet cement and rusting metal fills her nostrils. Squinting her eyes, she slowly wanders further into the basement’s abyss. “Where would I be if I were a light switch?” She mumbles to herself, trying her best to lighten the mood. Feeling the wall on her left, she slides her hands across the sheetrock until she hits a small bump. “Found you!”

“INTRUDER… ER!!!”

Three bright red eyes appear from the darkness.

“AH!!!” Pinkie stumbles back as the eyes draw near. Her hooves dig into the concrete floor as her legs propel her away from the offending eyes. In her panic, she feels what appears to be a broom lying next to her. In haste, she grabs it and thrusts it at one of the eyes. The creature stumbles back. “OW…” It groans in a metallic British-sounding tone before slumping to the ground, its red eyes turning a soft blue.

Shivering, Pinkie backs herself up against the wall. Instinctively, her hands' research for the light switch. Finding it once again, she flips it on. A soft orange glow fills the room, revealing what the eyes are attached to.

Pinkie stares awestricken by the creature’s appearance. “That’s the creature from the photo with the little creatures…” She reminds herself. Timidly, she steps up the specimen and pokes one of its camera-like eyes with a finger.

“Excuse me… That’s a little rude…” The creature groans as it studies her. “Strange? My optical drives are picking up that you identify as a pony.” One of its eyes leans in closer, causing Pinkie to lean back with a blush. “But you don’t look like a pony?”

Pinkie stares wide-eyed. “Oh…” Her head tilts slightly. ‘It can talk... It can talk!’ She quickly sits beside it, sitting on her knees as she does so. “I’m sorry.” She lifts her hands to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She studies its questioning gaze or what she thinks is a questioning gaze. “And to answer your question, I am a pony?” She answers with a smile, trying her best to reassure its worries.

The creature’s eyes lock onto her. “You can talk?” It looks down at the ground. “My audio sensors must be fried?”

Pinkie tilts her head to the other side, “Audio, what now?” Her nervous demeanor leaves as she ponders the creature’s strange way of talking about itself. “You mean ears?” She flops hers up and down while she looks for anything that looks like ears, but alas, she finds none.

“No, not ears, audio sensors, you numb-nut!” The creature’s eyes shoot up – the shutters within its eyes, representing what looked to be a glare to Pinkie. “Oh…” The creature halts so it could process her words some more, “Interesting, it can understand me…” Its eyes look away in several directions. “And talk…” It looks back at Pinkie and stares at her some more. “Pink… apparently, the so-called pony is pink…” It lays its eyes on the floor. “I do believe my optical drives are malfunctioning as well.”

Pinkie raises her brow. “I’m clearly right here?” She points at herself. “In the flesh!”

The creature stares at her for some time. “I guess you’re right.” It quips. It looks around and notices the stairs. “How did you get in?”

Pinkie blushes. “Um, the door was open?”

The creature stares at her for a short while before it nods its eyes. “Good enough for me.” It laughs in a stuttering tone. “My owners must have let you in?” It hums a little ditty.

Pinkie feels her cheeks blush. ‘So those creatures from the photos owned him like a pet…’ She shivers. ‘Its owners were not home!’ She gives the creature a smile. “Um,” She begins. “They’re not here…” She lets out a nervous laugh, hoping it wouldn’t get mad. “The door was open.”

The creature stays silent as it glares at her for a few seconds. “Why did you enter in the first place?” Its eyes turn a soft yellow.

Something tells Pinkie that the color’s a warning. Her nerves start getting the best of her. “Well, you see,” She talks with a stutter. “I…” Her emotions let loose. “I don’t know! One moment I’m walking back to the bakery, my place of work, and then all of a sudden, BOOM! BLAM! The ground was shaking and then a flash of white light, and then it was cold and raining, and I ended up in this forest with tall red colored trees. And with all the lighting and thunder, I found this place…” She sobs. “I’m lost, and I think I’m a long way from home!” She flops on the floor, her back laying on the cold concrete as her arms and legs splayed out. “I don’t know where home even is?” She stares at the light above, watching it pulse from each surge of electricity passing through its filaments.

The creature looks down at her, its eyes turning back to a soft blue. It is amazed by how fast she could speak. But it’s not a problem for it. “Interesting story… pony.” It moves its eyes closer to her. “I believe you.”

Pinkie looks up at the creature with puffy eyes. “You do?”

“Yes, pony, I do.” The creature nods its three eyes.

“You know I have a name.” She huffs. “My name is Pinkie Pie.” She sits up, wiping away her tears. “What’s your name?”

The creature lifts one of its arms and points at itself. “My name is Wadsworth.”

Pinkie smiles. “Hello, Wadsworth!” She giggles. “I like your name!”

“Thanks, Miss. Pinkie!” Wadsworth hums a little ditty.

Pinkie looks over Wadsworth, studying his metal appearance. “Um, Wadsworth.” She blushes. “Um, not to sound rude, but what are you?”

“Well, I’m a service robot!” Wadsworth proclaims by raising one of his right arms. “And not just any robot, I’m a Mr. Handy service bot, series 2!”

Pinkie raises her brow. “Robot… Mr. Handy?” She messes with her mane. “What’s a robot?”

Wadsworth looks at her with his own bout of confusion. “You have never seen a robot before?” She shakes her head. “Have you been living under a rock?”

Before she can reply, her headache from earlier returns, halting any train of thought. “I guess you could say that…” She mostly talks to herself. The inkling of where she might be, crawls its way back into her mind. ‘Am I even still in Equestria?’ She shivers at that thought... ‘There are no robots that I know of…’

Wadsworth scratches his dome with one of his arms. “Interesting… What type of rock was it?”

Pinkie’s eyes go wide. Her cheeks blush as she glares at the robot. “Really, you were using a metaphor, and then you took it seriously?!” She sticks out her bottom lip.

Wadsworth twitches. “What type of rock?”

Pinkie groans. “Granite!”

Wadsworth brings his three eyes closer to Pinkie, causing her to lean back, blushing all the while. “Fascinating…” He hums. “Since you do not know of robots. I’ll give you a little history lesson about them…” He laughs. “Well, to be specific, mostly about us, Mr. Handy service bots, since that’s the only history I know.”

Pinkie smirks at Wadsworth. “Well, tell me your story…” She giggles as she rests her hands in her lap. “Who were your parents?

“Not parents, creators!” Wadsworth corrects her. “I was developed by Syconia Industries. I was based on a robotic character from a hit video game series some thirty years ago called [Redacted], but the video game company [Redacted] they weren’t happy with Syconia using their design without permission. So, to make a long story short, after seventy-six lawsuits and billions of dollars wasted, Syconia secured the rights to use the character’s likeness and introduced Mr. Handy to the world!”

Pinkie just stares at Wadsworth. Half of what he said flew over her head. Stuff about Syconia, video games, redacted… who is this redacted? She shakes her head. “Interesting story.” She gives a smile anyway. “Sounds like you’re proud of it?”

Wadsworth hums. “You bet missy-missy, ma issy-issy-issy… ERRrrrr!” His eyes go dark and limp, falling to the floor with thuds.

“Wadsworth?!” Pinkie stands in a panic. Letting out a scared moan, she bends down, resting her left ear on his body, trying to hear anything like a heartbeat. “Are you alright?!” She worried that the first pony… no, the first robot she’s met is dead. “Please! Get up… Uh?!”

Wadsworth’s eyes glow blue as a hum radiates from his body. His eyes rise from the ground, their apertures close and open several times before they turn to face her. “That was a doozy!”

Pinkie feels a chill of relief wash over her. “Oh, thank goodness you’re alright!” She gives him a pat on the top of his round body. “What happened? Why did your eyes go all dark, and your voice gets all stuttery?”

Wadsworth goes stiff of a short second. Pinkie hears several beeps sound off. Whatever he’s doing, it seems to of worked as his posture returns to normal. “I do believe my power supply is low.” He replies, looking at Pinkie with tired-looking eyes.

“Power supply?” Pinkie's eyes go wide. “You run on batteries like a flashlight?”

“Technically, yes, but my batteries are ion-fusion cells, not your messily double-A’s or C’s.”

“What can I do to help?”

Wadsworth turns his gaze towards some metal cabinets at the other end of the basement to his right. “I need to replace my cell. I do believe my owners stored some extras in those cabinets over there.”

“Okey Dokie!” Pinkie gives the robot a smirk and a playful salute as she heads over to the cabinets. “What does your, um, ion-fusion-y cells look like?”

“It’s a metal cylinder with a central ion core,” Wadsworth replies. “The glowing rod within should be blue in color.”

Pinkie opens one of the metal cabinets. Looking inside, she sees six cores dimly glowing. Their casings are grey in color. White plastic handles adorn their tops. On their right sides are small displays showing different numbers. “What do the numbers mean?”

“They’re digital displays showing how much of a charge is left.” Wadsworth hums as he messes with one of his limp arms.

Pinkie hums a tune as she reads the numbers. Seeing one that displays ninety-eight percent, she gently drags it out of the cabinet before giving it her all to lift it off the ground. To say she wasn’t ready for such a feat is an understatement. The ion-cell itself weighs eighty pounds. Her eyes bulge from the strain, causing her left eye to twitch in protest. Gathering her strength, she meanders over to Wadsworth. ‘This is heavier than it looks!’ Getting to the robot, she places the cell beside him. “Now what?” She gasps for air.

Wadsworth lifts one of his arms. “There is a panel on my back,” He points to the spot. “You need to open it and turn off the breaker that’s labeled cell change.”

Breaker… That term makes Pinkie nervous. It sounds painful even. “Won’t that hurt you?” She taps her index fingers together.

“No, Miss. Pinkie, I shall be fine.” Wadsworth waves her worries away. “After that, twist and remove the old cell from the bottom of my gravity conductors.” He points at the metal cylinder surrounded by three glowing blue rings at the base of his body.

Pinkie gives a slow nod and gets behind Wadsworth. Seeing the latch, she notices that it’s a simple ‘push and turn’ handle. Gently pushing it in, a solid metallic snap sounds off, alerting her that it's unlocked. She pulls the handle; the meal hatch falls forward, revealing a panel with four switches. Seeing one labeled ‘CELL CHANGER,’ she flips it into the off position.

Wadsworth’s extremities go limp as his systems shut down. Nervous by the lack of movement, Pinkie quickly moves to his gravity conductors, grabs the spent ion-cell handle, and gives it a twist. It doesn’t budge. With a grunt, she puts all her strength into the motion and manages to pry the threads apart. Hearing the hiss of the rubber gasket coming loose, she pulls on the cell, dragging it away.

Letting out a sigh, she looks at the new ion-cell and an incapacitated Wadsworth. Realizing her situation, she lets out a low growl. “This is going to take some time…”

Grabbing the fresh ion-cell, she sets it down in front of Wadsworth’s gravity conductor. Sitting on her knees, she takes the positive end of the cell and wiggles it in, making sure that its guide rods line up. Feeling confident that the battery is secure enough, she gets behind it and pushes until its slides into place with a sold click. Giggling, she twists it until the rubber gasket seals shut once again. Giving herself a pat on the back, she walks up to Wadsworth’s backside and flips the switch back on, locking the latch shut.

A soft humming sound fills the room as Wadsworth systems come back online. She watches as he rises into the air. His arms and eyes bob about as they readjust their internal calibrations. With several more beeps and boops, he looks over at Pinkie and gives her a bow from the looks of it. “Thank you.” Wadsworth moves his arms as he floats around her. “I never felt better!”

Pinkie gives a bow in return. “Glad I could be of assistance.” She giggles at her words.

“Miss. Pinkie. You did say earlier that my owners were not home?” Wadsworth asks. “Do you know where they might be?”

Pinkie shakes her head. “Sorry, I don't know.” She puts her hands over her lap. The house looked like it's been empty for along time. When I opened the fridge, the food inside was moldy.” Wadsworth stays silent as he looks up at the top of the stairs. Pinkie walks up closer to the robot. “Wadsworth?” He looks down at her. “How long have you been down here?”

He stays still as he processes her words. “I’m not sure?” He looks at his surroundings. “My data algorithm says about… Twenty years…” His eyes go limp as he floats up the stairs.

Pinkie quickly follows.

Getting to the top of the stairs, Wadsworth roams the house. “Madam? Sire?”

Pinkie feels her chest tighten. ‘His artificial voice sounds lost.’

“Madam?” He cries as he floats up the stairs to the second story. She about to follow him when he calls out again. “SIRE!” His voice sounds broken, sporadic. He quickly descends the stairs, the lights in his eyes rapidly turning from blue to red. He stops just in front of the front door, his four limbs gently kissing the hardwood floor.

Pinkie lets out a held breath as she steps up to the distraught robot. “Wadsworth?”

“They’re gone, are they?” His eyes turn a dark shade of blue.

Pinkie stands next to him. The silence makes her uncomfortable. It didn’t help that the rain striking the windows sounds like haunting drums. “I’m sorry that they’re not here…” She looks at the robot and watches his eyes bounce about, looking around at random objects. “Maybe we can find them together.” She takes one of his metal-looking pinchers in her hand. "Where ever they are."

Wadsworth looks at Pinkie with one of his eyes. “Thank you, Miss. Pinkie.” He turns to face her. “And I will help you find your home. Where ever it is?”

Pinkie smiles. “Friends?”

Wadsworth looks puzzeled. “Friends?”

Pinkie smirks as she puts her hands on her hips. “Yes, friends!” She offers him a hand. “Bestest of friends!”

Wadsworth takes her hand and gives it a shake. “Bestest of friends, Miss. Pinkie.”

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