Hermit
Page stared at where the marked wall used to be, into the opening that had suddenly appeared. She blinked, rubbing her eyes with a hoof to make sure she wasn’t just seeing things, but the sight in front of her refused to vanish.
Extending from the back of the hexagonal room was a space that defied explanation. Firstly, it was massive; Page hadn’t had a great look at how far back the house had extended, but it was obvious that it wasn’t that big. This room, however, seemed to stretch into infinity. It didn’t even seem to have an end, and if it did, it was beyond Page’s sight. The ceiling, too, was too high, much higher than the house itself.
Secondly, it was the most bizarre looking space Page had even seen. The pattern and material of the flooring changed at random intervals, from checkerboard marble to carpet to floorboards… Page even spotted what looked to be a patch of ice. The ceiling appeared to be much the same way, and dotted all over were both random pieces of furniture, also made of various materials, and other strange objects that looked like modern art sculptures. Unlike the darkness of the rest of the house, this space was brightly lit, but there didn’t appear to be any obvious light sources.
I… I should leave. Page thought, gulping. I shouldn’t be here. This is… This is something that Princess Twilight should deal with, or Princess Celestia, or… somepony who knows what they’re seeing, at least. And yet, curiosity bubbled within her. Against all better judgement, she took a step forward. And then another. Before she knew it, she had passed the threshold entirely, entering the strange space.
Now she was inside, the wrongness of the space was even more apparent. It didn’t just stretch on forwards, but to the sides as well, a seemingly infinite space. It’s like… a pocket dimension or something? Apparently there was a way to link such a dimension to a doorway, but that kind of magical theory was far from her forte.
She turned around, curious to see how the entrance looked from this side, only to reel back in shock. The way in had vanished: The only thing behind her was the indefinitely extending space. There was no sign of the hexagonal room, or any kind of exit. She was trapped.
Oh buck, oh buck, oh buck… Panic fully set in, and Page felt her breathing quicken. I should have just left what was I thinking this wasastupididea-
She stomped her hoof hard, forcing herself to take a deep breath. No, I can’t panic! She was scared and anxious, incredibly so, but she knew that curling up into a ball and hyperventilating wouldn’t get her anywhere. She mentally scrunched up her anxiety and threw it into the back of her mind, where she could suffer through it later, when she was safer.
She considered her options, but there was really only one choice to make: What direction to walk in. After a second of deliberation, Page chose the direction she had come in from, in the slim hope she might come across a way back to the hexagonal room.
However, no matter how far she walked, no exit came into view, or any kind of walls. Only the eccentric flooring, the high ceiling, and the random objects lying around. On closer inspection, even the objects she assumed to just be statues seemed to be furniture of some kind, chairs and tables and shelving, but designed in such a way that made them totally unusable for a pony. Somehow, that just made them more unnerving.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Page finally came across something different. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an exit, but rather some kind of hexagonal metal platform. It wasn’t very high, only about an inch off the floor, but it was large enough that several ponies could easily stand on it. In the very centre, there was a circle of smooth, black glass.
Is it… some kind of stage? Hesitantly, Page touched it with a hoof. It flashed purple, and she quickly retracted her leg. Why do I keep touching things?
“Well, it’s been a while…” An androginous voice rang out from nowhere, and Page jumped slightly in surprise. The circle of glass flashed, and a cone of light projected out of it. A floating purple object appeared, slightly transparent, hovering above the platform. It looked a little like one of those many sided dice used in tabletop games, but through it’s transparent sides Page could see more edges, and it spun and rotated in seemingly random directions as the edges and vertices shifted.
“...Oh.” The voice spoke again, except this time it sounded disappointed and annoyed. “It’s just one of the local equinoids.” The floating shape twisted a little, and Page had the distinct feeling it was focusing on her. “How did you even get in here, anyway?”
“Uh…” Page froze, taking a step back with wide eyes. “I… I don’t really know…”
The voice groaned in annoyance. “Typical…”
“What… who are you?” Page asked.
The voice sighed again. “Right, okay, let’s get this over with. Back and forth explanations are annoyingly inefficient, so what is going to happen is that I am going to preemptively answer the questions you almost most certainly have, and then you are going to answer mine. Okay? Okay.”
Without waiting for a response, the voice continued talking. “You can call me Hermit. I am an artificial intelligence–” they paused. “–right, pre-computing society, you have no idea what that is… think of me like a self aware spell, that’s close enough, you don’t actually need to understand.”
‘Artificial intelligence’? This ‘Hermit’ was right, Page didn’t know what that was exactly, but she was fairly sure she understood what it meant: She was talking to wasn’t a living being.
“Anyway, yes,” Hermit continued. “I am the artificial intelligence in charge of overseeing this instance of the Pocket. Which…” The shape that seemed to represent Hermit spun around, as if to look at the space around it. “Hasn’t exactly gone very well. In my defence, I’ve been in sleep mode for… wow, fifty-six years, eight months, twenty days. No wonder it’s such a mess.”
Page opened her mouth to ask a question, but Hermit noticed this, cutting her off. “What’s the Pocket, you ask? It’s simple. Well, it’s not simple, it’s far beyond your ability to comprehend, but, in short, it’s an extra-dimensional construct that Master uses as their home base. The Pocket can be split into instances that have the ability to take form in reality, such as the house located in the Equestrian capital of Canterlot that, unless something has gone catastrophically wrong, is how you managed to end up in here. This instance appears to be breaking down, and the excess infinity is leaking into this space. A trivial fix, I’ll get on that after I deal with you.”
“Now…” Hermit flew right up to Page’s face, and she took a step back. “Your turn. Explain yourself.” It’s voice didn’t change much in tone from mild annoyance, but Page still felt threatened.
“Uh… I’m P-page Turner, and…” She took a deep breath. “I was, um, looking for the pony who wrote this…” She reached into her bag and pulled out the book, holding it up to Hermit. “I was told that she may have lived here in the past, so…”
The book was yanked out of her magical grip by Hermit, who pulled it into itself. “Hmm… where did you get a book with Mistress’ symbol on it?”
“I-in the Royal Archives…” Page stammered. “I… the stories in there…” She gulped. “I have stories just like it that I’m writing. I… wanted to know how that was possible.”
“Interesting…” Hermit made a humming sound. “The records within this book don’t match anything in my data banks. The main character of the fourth story bears some resemblance to you, however.”
“They aren’t me, though. Not really.” Page answered, slowly growing in confidence as she continued to converse with Hermit. “She has the same name, she looks like me, but we’re not the same pony. And it’s the one story I didn’t write myself. I was… I was hoping I would find a clue here.”
“Well, the fact that Master’s symbol is on the cover means something. And the style of writing… it bears some similarities to that of Master’s, but it’s distinct enough that it doesn’t seem to be their work… You say you wrote these?”
“I… kind of? I haven’t finished them,” Page explained. “I’ve been writing bits and pieces for years, but none of them are complete. And yet, this book has them, and it was printed over fifty years ago.”
“Hmm…” Hermit’s floating projection flashed several times in succession. “I don’t detect any kind of temporal anomalies on this tome, but I don’t suppose that means much. Your information could still have travelled to the past through other means. You say investigating this book led you here?”
Page nodded. “I found the publisher, and, apparently, the mare who provided the manuscript left this house as her address.”
“It could have been Mistress, I suppose…” Hermit ejected the book, floating it down to Page. “This warrants further investigation.”
“Who are these ‘Master’ and ‘Mistress’ you keep talking about, anyway?” Page asked.
Hermit froze. “Did I… I did, I forgot to explain that part! How could I forget something so important… spending so long in sleep mode must have affected me more than I thought. If I had the capacity for it, I would be embarrassed.”
Page blinked. “You can’t get embarrassed?” Lucky…
“Seemed like a waste of processing power.” Hermit said simply. “Anyway, yes, Mistress. They are, I would hope you would have already figured out, the creator and master of the Pocket and all that exists within it, including myself. They are a being vastly beyond the comprehension of mortals like you, or even my own computational ability.”
“What about your ‘Master’?” Page asked.
“They are one and the same. Master transcends those concepts of sex and gender organics obsess over so much. I was programmed to randomly alternate between titles. I think it amuses them.”
“...Huh.” Page didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Fair enough, I guess.”
“I stopped questioning their choices a long time ago. For an AI like myself, their irrational decisions are often nigh incomprehensible. I often think I was granted self-awareness solely so Mistress could confuse me…”
“Hmm…” Page put a hoof to her chin. “Where are they now? This… Mistress.” Page felt weird calling them that, but without another name to use, it was all she could call them.
Hermit made a movement that Page interpreted as a shrug. “No idea. I’ve been asleep for fifty six years. Master made this instance of the Pocket and placed it here, said they were ‘going to set something up’, and then never came back, it seems.”
“Then… is it possible that they were the one who got this book published in the first place?”
“In lieu of another explanation, that seems like the most likely explanation.” Hermit flashed again. “I cannot decipher a reason for their actions, however. This book could be any number of things, from a message for help to a simple prank. And this book’s title…” Hermit trailed off.
“What about the title?” Does the word Shilic actually mean something?
“I do not recognize it, and yet it feels… off.” Hermit seemed to shudder slightly. “I cannot quantify this feeling. It’s annoying.”
“Oh.” Page looked down at the floor. “Sorry, I guess. It’s… like a pen name, that I wanted to use, it’s not supposed to mean anything.”
“Another mystery to add to the ever expanding list…” Hermit was quiet for several seconds. “I’ve come to a decision.”
Page looked back up. “What?”
“I do not know Mistress’s current location. Since a significant amount of local time has passed, locating her would seem to be a logical course of action. Since you possess a book with Master’s symbol, and also have a vested interest in locating them, I believe it would be practical to work together. Thus, until further notice, I shall grant you limited administrative control over this instance, as well as my own operations.”
“Huh?” Page took a step back. “Grant me… what? I just wanted to–”
“In simple terms, I’m letting you control this instance, within reason. You do want to find answers, correct?”
“Well, yeah…” Page had to admit, the mystery had become even more intriguing. This… ‘Master’, or whoever they were, had some connection to the book, and to her, somehow. If I walk away, I’ll wonder about this for the rest of my life…”
“Great.” Hermit flashed again. “And done, you’re registered. What first, Miss Page?” Despite the polite title, Hermit’s voice still had a slight bite to it, and Page wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t some kind of subtle mockery.
Page looked around at the infinite space, and then back to Hermit, with a sheepish expression. “Can… can you make a way out?”
“Ah, yes, the excess infinity. A simple fix. Give me a second…” Hermit flashed some more, and then made several beeping noises. Suddenly, a ripple of energy emanated from it’s floating projection of a body, consuming the room with a bright blast of light that forced Page to cover her eyes.
When she looked again, the space had completely changed. She seemed to be back in the black hexagonal room, but it was significantly different. The walls were lined with advanced looking machines, with glowing panels covered in text, numbers and diagrams. The chandelier was lit, but with tiny glowing orbs instead of fire. A few of the pieces of furniture from the infinite space were also present, but only those suited for ponies, and in sensible places.
In the centre of the room was Hermit’s platform, though it was much smaller than it had been before. Hermit hovered above it, it’s projection also smaller. “There we go. Much better.”
Page looked around. “What happened? What’s all this stuff?”
“This is the control room for this instance,” Hermit explained. “It seems Mistress deactivated it after she left. You passed through a similar room before you entered the damaged area, correct?”
Page nodded. “Yeah. The symbol that was on the book was on the wall. When I touched it with my magic, the wall disappeared and led me to that weird space.”
“Figures. Normally, that would be locked to Master’s current biometrics, but it seems they decided to instead have it react to any unicorn magic. Most likely another part of whatever ploy they have cooking up.”
“What about the rest of the house?” Page asked. “It’s in pretty poor shape.”
“Everything in the instance is controlled from here. It would be a simple matter to clean it up.”
“Wouldn’t… ponies notice, though?” Page pointed out. “That this old house was suddenly fixed up?”
“I doubt it,” Hermit said dismissively. “The instance is covered in a perception filter. The only way to notice it is to be specifically looking for it.”
That explains how it managed to last in such a state for so long… Page thought. I guess a perception filter is like a ‘Notice-Me-Not’ spell or something. She walked over and closely inspected one of the strange machines. “What does all this stuff do?” She asked.
Hermit groaned. “It’s a computer. It computes. I really do not have the patience to explain these basic concepts to you.” With a flash, a book appeared on the flat top of one of the machines. “Master made that guide to explain these things so they didn’t have to. If you really want to know, read it and progress your civilization by several decades.”
Page’s eyes went wide, and she eagerly snatched the book up in her magic. It was bright yellow, with the title “Technology of the Information Age for Dummies” written on the front. At the bottom of the cover, a small blurb read “How to understand computers when your society is still in the Iron Age”. Pretty sure Equestria is a little more advanced than that, but… “Thanks, I’ll definitely take a look at this.”
“Most people don’t react so positively to reference manuals,” Hermit commented. “Though, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, based on your cutie mark. Figures you’d be excited by books.”
“I’m predictable like that.” Page joked. She was still a little uncomfortable, but Hermit, while grumpy, didn’t seem like a bad… whatever it was. And getting out of the disorentating infinite space had helped her mood, enough for her to joke a little.
“Once you’re done with that, I’ll explain the specifics of the controls in here,” Hermit said, floating over to one of the panels. “The instance is operating at eighty two percent efficiency. Not great, but acceptable. All functions are operable, at least.”
“So…” Hermit flew over to Page, hovering in front of her. “What’s the plan, Miss Page?”
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Well, much like Page Turner, I have no clue where to start when looking for a trans-dimensional being. Maybe ask Hermit what the master's hobbies are; Shopping? Bowling? Cooking? anything that might lead them to a specific section of canterlot. That may also get interesting if it turns out that Page goes to a lot of the same places...
Right now I'm wondering if Hermit can exist outside the pocket; He should probably give Page some sort of communication device so he can interact with her over great distances. Not sure what form it ought to take, but I think it'd be cool if it was an earpiece that interfaced with her brain a-la the Focus from Horizon: Zero Dawn.
Over time Page may get the impression that the Mistress knows that Page is looking for her, and is avoiding contact for now. Sorta messing with her by leaving clues, perhaps. knowing what she's going to do even before she decides to do it...
Well now I'm definitely getting Doctor Who vibes. Let's hope this Master isn't, well, the Master.
So, if they have access to any time, any place, then the obvious solution would be to go back and meet the previous owner of this house. Otherwise, learning the history of the house seems like a good bet.
Hmm. The Master’s trail is glacially cold, but it can’t hurt to see if there’s any detectable sign of something anachronistic in Canterlot. Mind you, Hermit may have already thought of that, but we’ve seen how the prolonged sleep mode has left it a touch disoriented.
Failing that, crazy as it may sound, reading the story starring Page may provide clues in its own right. If the Mistress is capable of this much, maybe they knew Page would be looking for them.