Twilight Sparkle experiments with a new spell for interdimensional communication. How different can two beings be?
Charles Nicholson is inventive, slightly eccentric, and soon-to-be unemployed. He uses what little time and money he has left to run one, final experiment before his employers come to shut his beloved lab down.
Twilight Sparkle has discovered Multiverse Theory, and is fascinated with the implications. She experiments with some new spells to see if she can contact another universe.
What could these two have in common, and how different can they be?
I can't guarantee that I will be updating this regularly. I write when I am inspired, which could mean as much as three chapters in one day or as little as three words in a month.
UPDATE: New cover art! This image has been brought to you by my good friend, Dustygrafix. Go commission something awesome from him; the Greater Good demands it!
While performing a dig at a ruins not to far from Canterlot, a group of archaeologists discovered a large assortment of fully-intact books, scrolls, and notes, mostly written by Starswirl the Bearded. Given the sheer volume of literature, the faculty is predicted to be backlogged for several weeks and are looking for any who have a background in librarianship to assume their duties while they focus on the documentation and archival of the previously mentioned artifacts. As a matter of due process, the council of the Royal Library of Canterlot has determined that the recipient of this letter, TWILIGHT SPARKLE, has met the aforementioned requirement(s), and has been approved for supplementary duties at the Royal Library of Canterlot by the current head chairpony, PROF. DEWEY DECIMAL. If the recipient chooses to accept this invitation, (s)he must appear at the Royal Library of Canterlot by MAY 17 of this year for processing, and will be paid as a full-time employee.
Royal Invitation on Behalf of Their Royal Highnesses, Princess Celestia And Princess Luna
As excited as Twilight was, she slumped slightly in disappointment at the fact that she would be stuck with desk duty while others would be poring over mysterious and ancient tomes. This only lasted a moment, however, as she heard a familiar belch behind her. Turning around, she watched as a small, purple dragon plucked a smoking scroll out of the air. He held a claw to his chest before offering the note to her. "Ugh, two in a row. That always gives me indigestion."
"Thank you, Spike." Twilight chose to ignore the young dragon's comment (he knew where to find the antacid,) as she took the letter in her magical grasp. While he ascended the staircase to find the medicine, Twilight unsealed the missive. She was relieved to see the loose, comfortable style of her mentor's writing.
To my faithful student, Twilight Sparkle,
Given the subject of the letter sent to you by Professor Decimal, I know you'd rather be the one doing the archiving. I'll see if I can't pull some strings when you arrive. See you soon!
Sincerely, P. Celestia
Twilight's glee returned in full force. She tapped her hooves and squealed in excitement; an opportunity like this was once-in-a-lifetime. "Pack your bags, Spike, we're going to Canterlot!" She went upstairs to ensure that he had heard her, only to find that he had already packed both his own and her suitcases.
"Way ahead of you, Twi. But are you sure you want to leave now? We don't have to be there for another five days."
"Of course, Spike! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get to work. Now, to the station."
The previous day, Twilight and Spike's journey had been decidedly uneventful. The train ride had gone smoothly, and after meeting with Princess Celestia and making accommodations, she was quickly processed at the library and asked to appear the following morning to work in archiving. Now they were in a room stacked almost floor to ceiling with ancient texts. Twilight couldn't be happier.
As Spike stood by and chewed on a couple of chalky tablets, Twilight got to work. Using her magic, she began an assembly line of literature. As each article of writing passed under her eyes, she would look for any important information, record it to a register, and attach an appropriate label to it. This continued (with occasional breaks at Spike's insistence,) for several hours, until it all suddenly came to a standstill. "Uh, Twilight, are you alright?" Spike inquired. "Lunch was only fifteen minutes ago."
All of the books dropped to the floor, save for the one directly in front of Twilight. "Spike... This is incredible!"
"What, that book?"
"Yes! According to this, one of Starswirl's apprentices theorized that for every possible variable, there is a universe where that variable is different! Furthermore, he went on to prove his theory, and was developing a spell that would allow him to contact one of these other universes!"
"Uh... Huh. Er, why is that important?"
"Spike, are you kidding!? Just think of the implications! For every problem, there's a universe where they've found an easy way to solve it. All we'd have to do is send those ponies a message and ask them how they fixed it."
"Right..."
Twilight gave Spike a flat look as she saw the disinterest spread across his face. After a moment's thought, she decided on a way to pique his curiosity; "Spike, there's another universe where they give out gems for free."
The young dragon's demeanor changed instantly. His eyes lit up and he giggled in joy at the thought of such a luxury. "Well, sign me up!"
Satisfied, Twilight cataloged the book before placing it in her saddlebag. By the time she was finished working at the library, they would have incorporated it into the system and she would be able to check it out. In the meantime, however, she still had work to do, so she returned to the books she had dropped and began working with even greater gusto than before.
Dr. Charles Nicholson stared in the bathroom mirror, disappointed by what he saw. The stress was getting to him, and it showed: salt and pepper stubble across his neck and face, shadows under his blue eyes, and an unkept mop of brown, thinning hair. But worst of all was his physique. Although he couldn't claim to be the fittest, he usually kept his weight under control. Now, however, his gut visibly protruded, and the stretching buttons on his lab coat seemed to say that he needed to graduate to the next size up.
A young, black-haired man stepped into the restroom. “It looks like you need to go on a diet, my friend.” The young man’s distinctly Slavic accent filled the small room, uncharacteristically deep for someone so thin.
“That’s easy for you to say, Dimmy,” Charles replied. “You’re not a somnambulist.” Charles grinned as he watched his friend, Dmitri Kovac, reach into his coat pocket and retrieve a small book. The young man thumbed through the Serbian-English dictionary, muttering in his native language.
“Ah, mesečar! Sleepwalker!” Dmitri exclaimed. “If you keep trying to fool me with big words, I will know more English than you.”
“One can only hope,” Charles said with a chuckle. Dmitri was a bright fellow, both in intellect and attitude. When he wasn't devising or conducting creative experiments, he was spreading joy among his peers. Just being around him cheered Charles up, even if it was only a little.
The two men stepped into the hallway and headed for the lab. Charles slumped his shoulders, mentally bracing himself for the inevitable disappointment. They swiped their security cards and stepped through the double doors into a large room. It was once a clean and efficient place, bustling with activity in what can only be described as “organized chaos.” Now, however, half of the equipment lay covered in dust, and papers were scattered about wherever a footpath wasn't needed. Only a small number of the motion activated lights flickered to life, giving the room all the comfort and welcoming of a forgotten tomb.
But Charles hadn't forgotten. He remembered about how his publications on instant transportation had drawn scientists from every corner of the world to his doorstep, all to hear him lecture his theories. He recalled the business and government agents flocking to his office for the opportunity to fund his project. He reminisced the day that the government contractors constructed his laboratory with the fifteen million dollar grant he’d been given, promising even greater fortune over the next ten years. And he remembered as, one by one, his colleagues left to seek more fruitious opportunities as the project stagnated. Only Dmitri had remained, ever loyal to Charles’ vision.
Charles sighed deeply and picked up a bundle of wires along with a soldering iron. “Come along, Dimmy, let’s see if we can get this finished up today.” Charles walked to the center of the circular room, where a metal ring was lying on the floor. A myriad of wires protruded from it and led to the various computers and consoles closer to the wall. Meanwhile, Dmitri booted up a nearby console and prepared to assist his friend.
Charles used the wires to touch the contacts of the ring with the contacts of a small, laser emitting device. Four of these devices had already been attached to the ring, making the one he was working on the last piece. Each time Charles would make a temporary contact, Dmitri would run a short test. If it passed, Charles would then solder the wire in place. The work was simple, but tedious and slow. It didn't take very long for the two to fall into a rhythm, at which point it became possible to talk while testing. “So, Charles," Dmitri asked, "how is your wife doing?”
“She’s alright, I guess. She’s still agitated about the program; says that with only a couple of days left before they come and shut it down, I might as well move on. But at least we can see if this one, last test will work, right, Dimmy?”
“Heh, yeah, and if it works, maybe we can put the ring in front of the door and teleport them away when they walk in!”
“Yes! We could send them to the Arctic North, then we’ll see who’s laughing!”
“Oh, I knew it! You are a mad scientist!”
The two stopped for a moment to chuckle at the concept of Charles laughing maniacally while a pair of government suits shivered in Greenland, and then got back to their work. “Dmitri… Thank you for sticking with the project. You didn't have to, you know.”
There was a moment of silence before Dmitri replied. “I did, Dr. Nicholson. Your work inspires me, and I want to see this become reality as much as you do. It would be just as hard to abandon it as it would be to abandon my own arm.”
The two continued in relative silence, and before long, Charles was attaching the laser emitter to the inner wall of the ring and Dmitri was powering down the computer. Charles checked his wristwatch – 4:54 pm – before standing up and stretching. “Looks like our timing was perfect, Dimmy. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alright, Charles, I will see you then.” The two clocked out, left the building, and made for the parking lot. Charles waved to the security guard at the gate as he left, making his way home. It was an uneventful drive that took him to a secluded, two floor, four bedroom, three-car-garage house with a swimming pool overlooking a valley (modest living, given the paychecks he earned over the last decade). However, something was off; his wife’s car was missing, and there was a note on the door.
With slow, deliberate actions, Charles parked his vehicle and climbed the steps to his front door. He already knew what it would say, but he still took the piece of paper and unfolded it, exposing its contents. After having read it, he stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, he dropped the paper and walked inside. Although his face was still as stone, a man with a crushed soul lay in his bed that night.
Charles,
You've been obsessing over this project for so long, you haven’t had any time for anything else, including me. I've told you over and over that you can't let it control your life like this, but you just don't listen. You've lost touch with reality, and I simply can't stay with a man who's like that. I'd tell you not to bother looking for me, but I doubt that will be an issue.
Dmitri opened the door to the lab and the lights came on, only to reveal a disheveled Charles sitting in the middle of the room. His generally untidy hair had turned into a tattered, greasy mess, his eyes were bloodshot and dull, and the skin on his face hung like cloth on a wire frame. After overcoming his initial shock, Dmitri stepped cautiously into the room. "Charles... Are you alright?"
Charles continued staring into the distance, seemingly not noticing Dmitri's presence, let alone his question. After a while, he finally stirred. He slowly stood up and turned to Dmitri, the dullness in his eyes replaced by a manic conviction. "It's going to work this time. We will run the test, and we will get it to work. we will succeed." He started going around the room, booting up computers and powering various devices.
At this point, Dmitri had gone far past simply being concerned. He walked up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, only to be shrugged off. With Charles' mental health in question, Dmitri tried to talk some sense into him without putting him over the edge. "Charles, hold on a minute. Er... Do you not think we should run protocols first?"
Charles was now moving at a frantic pace, flipping switches, pressing buttons, and activating machines all over the room. "No, there's no time. We have to complete the contract today. If we can safely transport a human more than two hundred meters, it will fulfill all the requirements. Then they'll have to keep funding us."
"Charles, we cannot do that! The risks are enormous! Besides, we do not even have a test subject." Dmitri regretted his words the moment he said them. Charles stopped and stared directly into Dmitri's eyes, and the thought of him being a mad scientist was suddenly far more sinister and real. Dmitri knew that there were only two possible responses to his statement, and he didn't like either of them.
"I will be the subject. All I need you to do is set the coordinates and start the test." Even though he knew it was coming, Dmitri couldn't believe what Charles was saying. He couldn't let it happen. He would have to stop his friend before he did something that couldn't be fixed. Throwing himself at the nearest computer, Dmitri started shutting off all electronics he could reach. "No, no, you'll ruin it!"
Charles tackled Dmitri to the ground and the two wrestled with each other. Although Charles had an advantage in weight and strength, Dmitri was more flexible and energetic, which quickly led them to a stalemate. After a moment, they both realized this and disengaged. Standing up, Dmitri tried again to talk some sense into his friend. "What you are suggesting is effectively suicide. If just one thing goes wrong, you could be torn to shreds, or worse! Do you really want to throw your life away?"
"Don't you get it? My life's work is about to be destroyed and my wife has left me. There's no way I'll get my job back at the university if this project fails. Hell, I'll be lucky if I get hired back as a janitor! This is all I have left to live for. Can't you help me this one, last time?"
Now Dmitri realized just had bad things were. He knew that Charles truly loved his wife, which made his current behavior more understandable. As Dmitri thought about it, he couldn't deny Charles' logic. Besides, it wasn't guaranteed to fail, and success would solve several of their problems. The more he pondered, more rationalizations wormed their way into his mind, until he found himself agreeing with such a dangerous endeavor, against his better judgement.
"...Very well, then," Dmitri said with a sense of finality, "I will help you."
The two got back to activating the various computers and machines around the room, and before long they were ready to begin. Charles took a deep breath, walked to the center of the ring, and signaled for his friend to begin. Dmitri turned on a nearby research video camera and stated "instant transmission of physical objects over range, test one. Time and date is 0931 hours, June 7, 2017. Test subject... Doctor Charles Nicholson. Subject mass: 96.16 kilograms.Target destination is 3 meters East of the instant transmission device's ring. Beginning test." He typed in a command on a computer, causing the ring to be slowly lifted from the ground by a set of mechanical arms. Charles stood tall and rigid as it reached about waist height on him. "Activating laser stabilizers." Dmitri flipped a switch, causing the devices on the inside of the ring to emit read beams, connecting each one to each other and forming a star pattern around Charles. A low hum began to fill the room as the building's backup generator kicked on, supplementing the energy coming from the local power grid. "Beginning matter redistribution..." Dmitri's finger hovered over the button, as hesitant as a man being forced to kill another. The truth wasn't far off.
"Do it!" Charles' already grey eyes took on a steely quality as they turned to Dmitri, each as cold and sharp as a knife.
"... Now." Dmitri pressed the button, and the generator went from a low hum to a feral roar. Lights and control panels dimmed and flickered as energy was rerouted to power the machine. What hair Charles had left stood on end and his lab coat flapped about, while little eddies of wind started blowing loose paper around. Sparks of electricity arced off the tips of his hair and fingertips, growing in intensity to the point where one might have mistaken him for some primeval god of storms. He continued to stand straight and rigid, his skin glowing from the energy around him. Sparks flew as one of the fluorescent bulbs shattered, then two more. Charles shouted something, but the cacophony around them was too great for Dmitri to hear. Charles dared to lift his hand and motioned for Dmitri to take cover. The young scientist ducked under the desk as several more bulbs exploded, causing glass and sparks to shower down where he had stood only a moment before. The generator gave one last, unearthly howl before a blast of wind tore through the room, followed by complete silence and darkness.
"Spike, have you found the matrix chalk yet?" Spike pulled open another drawer and rummaged around, digging for the elusive writing tool. Twilight's level of organization normally made scenarios like this nonexistent, but given her natural talent for teleportation, a spell targeting matrix wasn't normally necessary. However, the theories in her book implied spells far too complex for even an accomplished unicorn like Twilight to attempt without tools. This worried the young dragon; his friend rarely failed in casting a spell, but when she did, the results were spectacular. "Wait, I've found it!"
Spike climbed down the stairs and into the library proper before continuing into the basement laboratory. There he found Twilight inscribing a circle in the center of the room. Neat towers of paper were stacked up a small table, filled with several days' worth of notes and research. Twilight's computer (a very expensive gift from the University of Canterlot,) had been pushed as far away from the middle of the room as possible and covered with several protective sheets. Owloysius was perched quietly on a fan in the opposite corner. As Spike reached the bottom of the stairs, Twilight completed a pentagram in the circle and placed a thick, yellow candle on each corner. "Wow," Spike said, "that's kind of ominous."
"Ah, Spike, just in time. Do you have the checklist ready?" The young dragon quickly retrieved a scroll and quill from under the stairwell where he frequently stashed spare checklists in case of lab disasters. "Good, then we can begin. First on the checklist: checklist?"
"Check." Spike checked a small box on the list with an image of a smaller checklist next to it and wondered how long it would take before he (or the reader) would be sick of the words "check" and "list."
"Notes?"
"Check" As Twilight went through the various supplies, Spike checked them off one-by-one. Since their return from Canterlot, Twilight had focused on studying the multiverse book, only occasionally leaving to spend time with her friends and buy groceries. This didn't bother Spike too much; it was fairly normal behavior for her. What did bother him was the possibilities of that book. Sure, there was the chance that they could end up with a visitor from the universe where everypony gave away gems, but there was also the chance that they could get a zombie pony.
"And finally, double checked the checklist?" Spike scrolled through the paper one last time before marking off the final box. He rolled up the list and placed it and the quill on the table, taking the moment to massage his aching wrist. Whether for good or for ill, Twilight was always thorough. "Great," she said, "now we can get started on the experiment. Spike, please get another checklist." Spike wordlessly gave her a deadpan stare, holding his swollen claw so she could better see it.
"... Or we can let Owloysius do it this time." Twilight grinned sheepishly as the owl, upon hearing his name, flew from his perch and collected another scroll of paper. He landed on the table and rolled out the list, clutching the quill in his claw. "He's become quite adept with the pen, you know."
"Hoo," he replied.
"Argh, You!" Spike and Owloysius had grown close over their time together, but the bird could be rather scatterbrained. It almost seemed like he only ever had one question on his mind. Owloysius rolled his eyes and started marking his list as Twilight began her experiment. Spike stood idly by as twilight wrote arcane runes on the inner edge of the circle. Spike certainly didn't want to write anymore, but he didn't mean to leave Twilight and Owloysius with all the work. "Uh, Twilight? I still want to help..."
Twilight turned and looked at him, tapping her chin in thought before a flash of inspiration came to eyes. "I was going to light these candles with a mundane match, but now that I think about it, dragon's fire would be much better. Spike, would you like to do the honors?"
The young dragon skipped forward excitedly, stopping short of the inscribed diagram. Twilight had put a lot of work into it, and he didn't want to be the one to ruin it. He breathed a small tongue of green flame over the wick of the first candle, causing it to light. He carefully continued around the circle, conscious of the delicate chalk design. After lighting the final one, he stood back to admire his accomplishment. However, he noticed something strange; the candles were maintaining the emerald hue of his fire. "Twilight," he inquired, "why haven't they turned orange yet?"
"I wasn't kidding when I said your fire would help," said Twilight, chuckling softly. "Dragon's fire is full of potent magic, and combined with these enchanted candles, it should greatly improve the stability and sustainability of the spell. Owloysius, please get the lights." The owl flew to the top of the staircase and flipped the switch, perching on the guardrail near the door. Although the candles weren't terribly big, they provided a comfortable amount of light, even if their green radiance was a little eerie.
"Wait, why didn't you just do that with magic?" Spike asked.
"I don't want to risk losing the spell to instability caused by residual magic energy. Speaking of which..."
Twilight began chanting. Spike knew that Twilight didn't like incantations due to their association with dark magic, but he also knew that she was taking no chances with this spell. It would have sounded tribal or occult coming from anypony else, but somehow she made it sound as if she were merely reading off a list. As she continued, the candles noticeably dimmed and the room grew much darker. Spike caught Owloysius out of the corner of his eye as the brown avian escaped through the door, obviously not interested in the rest of the experiment. As he watched, the candles suddenly lost much of their strength and began guttering in their sockets. The sudden darkness caused a chill to run up the young dragon's spine, and the sensation of a block of cold lead landing in his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and said with a shuddering whisper, "Twilight, I'm scared..."
The chanting stopped, but Spike dared not to open his eyes. He felt the warm embrace of a foreleg wrapping around his shoulders. Trying desperately not to cry, he looked up at Twilight. "It's alright, Spike. We don't need to do this experiment. We can stop if you like," she said, smiling. It was the smile that she wore just for him, that told him how much she cared for him and loved him. He reflected on all the times that she had given him that smile before, when he was at his weakest and needed her support. This time, however, he wasn't going to be weak. He would handle his fear all by himself, and Twilight would get to meet a pony from another world.
"... No. I'm alright, Twilight. We can do it."
"Thank you, Spike," she said, hugging him tightly. She returned to the circle, pausing to say, "You know, I once read that bravery isn't having no fear, but choosing to go on in spite of fear." It filled Spike's heart with pride to hear such praise from his friend, and it made the darkness no longer seem so scary. "I'm on the last step. Now we just have to cast the actual spell."
Twilight charged her horn with ethereal energy and tapped it to the circle. The energy coursed through the ring, causing it to glow bright purple. Tiny bolts of lightning jolted about on it's surface, and odd gusts of wind began blowing around. A tiny bead of bright light appeared about three feet above the circle and begun to expand. As it grew, electricity began sparking off of it and the wind picked up, disturbing Twilight's notes. When it reached about six feet in diameter, it suddenly imploded with a sharp popping sound, extinguishing the candles.
"Hold on a moment!" Twilight's magic illuminated the room, allowing her to then activate the light switch safely. A cloud of smoke rose from the center of the circle, hiding whatever it may have contained. Although Spike's heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, he turned on the fan, blowing the smoke away to reveal...
Nothing.
Despite his fear, Spike was a little disappointed. They had worked so hard to finish this experiment, only for it to have been all for naught. Looking at the inscription on the floor, he noticed that it was completely ruined. "Gee Twilight, I'm sorry. I thought for sure it would work." Twilight just stood there, as still as a board. She was breathing deeply through her nose, and had a confused expression. Spike was worried that the failure had broken her. It wouldn't have been the first time.
"Spike... Do you smell that?" He inhaled deeply through his nose and noticed a highly unusual smell.
"Cabbage? But you hate cabbage!"
"I know! Isn't it wonderful?" She began to bounce around the room, giggling like a school filly. Spike didn't think she was broken anymore. Now he knew. He cocked his eyebrow, wondering how he would manage to get her to snap back to reality.
"Uh, Twilight? Maybe you need some fresh air."
Twilight stopped and scooped up Spike with her forelegs, smiling manically. "Don't you see? The spell did work! It connected to another universe! And they have cabbages!"
Spike realized that, indeed, the smell was strongest in the lingering smoke. "Wow, you're right!" he said. Of course, he knew that success could break Twilight just as well as failure, so he was no less concerned.
After Twilight regained her composure, she collected and reorganized her notes, adding the results of the experiment. Spike knew he couldn't quite appreciate science in the same way she did, but he did like to see her happy. In fact, this was the happiest he'd seen her since she discovered how great it was to have friends. After helping with cleanup, Spike made for his basket, ready for a well-deserved nap.
After the dust had settled, Dmitri peered over the desk. The battery powered emergency lights had come on, revealing a figure slumped in the middle of the room. Dmitri jumped up and rushed to his side, fearing the worst. "Charles? Dr. Nicholson!?"
"... It didn't work. All of the work, all the research, and it failed. I failed." The older man's eyes, which had once been bright and full of life, were now as dull and stagnant as pools of swamp water. Dmitri was unsure on what to do; never before had he seen his friend in such a state of despair. Eventually, he decided that it would be best to just sit with Charles and provide him with company.
Putting his hand on the man's shoulder, Dmitri urged his friend to get up. Charles stood and allowed the younger scientist to guide him, but it seemed almost subconscious. Dmitri lead him to the front of the building, where there were a couple of couches, and had him sit. Dmitri sat next to him, lending his support as best he could. Whether they sat there for minutes or hours, Dmitri wasn't sure. All he knew was that his friend needed him, and that he was there.
After some unknown amount of time, Dmitri heard a tapping. Looking up to the glass doors at the entrance, he saw two men in black suits and sunglasses, one with a briefcase. Answering the door, he let in the two government officials. After initial greetings, they asked to see Dr. Nicholson. Dmitri looked back at his friend, who still seemed to be in a catatonic state. "I am afraid the doctor is in no condition to deal with any paperwork right now," he told them. "I am his lead assistant. Perhaps I can do it instead?"
After talking briefly between each other, the two officials agreed that it was acceptable. They gave Dmitri various papers to sign and asked for copies of all notes and test results related to the project. He collected the data off of a computer and gave it to them in the form of a flash drive, which they stored with the documents in the briefcase. They informed him that he had two weeks to collect his personal items from the research center before his pass card was revoked. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Kovac," said the older of the two agents "and have a nice day."
Dmitri saw the men out, then got to work packing up his personal affairs. Although he didn't take much with him to work, it took longer than normal, as he would frequently stop to check on Charles. He also decided to pack up his friend's things, which took much longer, given the man's greater investment in the project. By the time he was finished, it was already late in the day. Taking another look at his friend, Dmitri saw that he was still catatonic. Slipping the older scientist's arm over his shoulder, he found that Charles was still responsive enough to be lead around.
"I am going to take you home, okay Charles?" Dmitri had knew he wouldn't respond, but he still hoped for it anyway. With one arm on his friend and one on his box of personal items, he lead his friend to his car. He put the box in the back seat and bundled Charles into the passenger seat, making sure he was belted in. He thought about getting his friend's stuff as he sat in the driver's seat, but decided against it, as the man would have to come back for his vehicle regardless. He wished the gate guard a good evening as he made his way to his friend's house.
After pulling up, Dmitri helped Charles out of the car. The younger scientist looked sadly at the empty space where Lenore's car was usually parked. Although he trusted his friend, he had almost hoped that he'd been lied to. As they approached the front door, he heard Charles mumble something while pulling out a set of keys. Dmitri was grateful that the man had recovered some, mostly because he had been worried, but also because he didn't like the idea of going into someone else's home when they weren't fully conscious. After unlocking the door, Charles plodded in, gesturing for Dmitri to follow.
Dmitri had been to his friend's house before, but he always appreciated Charles' simplicity when it came to decor. The living room was painted in warm, earthy colors, and the floor was covered with well maintained carpet. There was a single sofa against one wall with a recliner next to it, both facing a television on the other wall. With the exception of a few pictures on the walls and a single bookcase packed with books, the room was mostly unadorned. It was a good place to be if one wanted to feel comfortable and at ease.
Charles dropped down heavily on the sofa and let out a sad, heavy sigh. Dmitri sat quietly on the recliner, deciding to wait and see what his friend would say. They sat there for a few minutes before the older of the two decided to speak. It was a simple phrase, but one that threatened to release a great deal of emotion. "I'm sorry, Dimmy."
"... Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry for... For everything. I'm sorry for pursuing this hopeless task, for wasting everyone's time, and for ruining both of our reputations. I'm sorry that I grew so focused on it that it ruined my marriage, that I didn't even think of how my obsession would affect other people. And I'm sorry to you, for forcing you to do something you didn't want to do, and using our friendship against you. I don't deserve your kindness, let alone your forgiveness."
As Charles said these last words, he covered his face and began to cry. Dmitri wasn't sure what to do; he was so used to Charles being stoic and a little dry-witted that seeing this open display of emotion was unsettling. After a moment, he decided to speak, choosing his words carefully.
"Charles... It is not something to worry about now. It is in the past, and it cannot be changed. I may not have liked it, but I do not blame you for what happened. You were... Eager to accomplish something. I can understand that. I am sure that the worst is now behind us. If we keep moving forward, it will work out in the end, I'm sure of it. And for the record, my kindness is not something for you to earn; I gave it out freely, because we are friends."
Charles had stopped crying, but was still obviously in bad sorts. He looked up at Dmitri, who smiled compassionately back.
"... I suppose you're right, Dimmy. I need to get over this pity party and start moving in the right direction. Now that I'm unemployed, I have a lot of work to do."
Dmitri chuckled and stood up, now confident that his friend would recover. "All right, my friend, but there is still one thing you must do. Go and get a good night's sleep. I left your car at the laboratory, so I'll be by first thing tomorrow morning to pick you up." Charles stretched out on the sofa and said farewell to Dmitri as the younger man stepped out the door. He drove off as quietly as he could, leaving his friend to find what peace he could in sleep.
Charles' eyes fluttered open slightly, revealing his living room ceiling. He wasn't really awake, nor was he fully asleep. In his semiconscious state, his muddled mind began grasping at any sensation it could; the weight of his arms across his chest, the softness of his couch, and the dim glow of the Moon filtering in through the windows. What dragged at his attention the most, however, was the profound lack of sound. After several moments of deliberation, his mind sluggishly pointed out that it must have been that time of night when no creature stirred, which was usually a few hours before sunrise.
On its own accord, his body slowly shifted into a sitting position. After a few futile attempts at moving his arm, he realized that he wasn't going to be regaining control any time soon. He stood up, wobbling dangerously from side to side. He started shuffling towards the kitchen, tipping left and right like a man fresh off a boat. 'Please, please don't trip...' Despite his body's lack of grace, it still managed to move around without losing balance. His body continued forward, placing him in front of his refrigerator. Charles was by no means a small man and always had a healthy apatite, so he had spared no expense when he purchased this fridge. It was large enough to hold provisions for a family of four for at least a month, and had a single door that was taller than himself.
Although Charles knew that he ate in his sleep when he was stressed, he'd never actually been lucid when it happened. On one hand, a part of him wanted to wake up and prevent it from happening, but he was also curious to see it first hand. His body took the handle of the fridge and swung it open, blinding him with the intensity of the fridge light. He waited several seconds for his eyes to adjust enough to see the contents, but it never seemed to happen. he was able to stare into the light without discomfort, but for some reason, he just couldn't see anything else.
As he continued to contemplate, his body suddenly lurched forward. He felt his foot come in contact with the floor of the fridge. His mind turned to stories where someone was closed in a freezer or refrigerator and died, unable to escape, and this is where he truly panicked. He tried once more to regain control of his body, but it was a vain attempt. If he could close his eyes or cry, he probably would have. However, all he could do was watch on in horror as he slowly advanced into the whiteness.
Passing through the light blinded him once more. Shaking his head reflexively, Charles realized that he was back in control. 'Perhaps the cold air from the fridge woke me up.' As his vision returned, he was surprised by what he saw. Instead of the interior of a refrigerator, he seemed to be in some kind of large, dark room. Or at least, that was his best guess; everything was so blurred and indistinct that he may as well have been in a cave full of fog.
Charles looked around, trying to assess the situation. To his left was what could only be described as an oddly colored boulder. It was green, in contrast with the brownish shade of everything else around him, but there was a hint of grey at the bottom. To his right was an indistinct, white stick, on top of which was a white circle with brown splotches. A part of his brain wanted to believe that the circle had holes in it and the brown was behind it, but it was hard for him to see depth. Ahead was a pattern of colors just a shade lighter than the rest of his surroundings. Part of the pattern seemed to slope upward, and under the slope was something that looked like a light brown rectangle with legs (the other things were anyone's guess, but he assumed that last one was a table). Of course, all of this was only a rough guess; it seemed to him like he was wearing overly thick glasses while looking at a rough, three-dimensional painting. "What is going on...?"
Suddenly, he heard some strange noises. It was like someone banging on a wooden floor with hammers, but muted, as though he were listening to it underwater. Before he would react, the room changed in color. Everything seemed to be several shades lighter than before. He barely noticed a strange, tickling sensation across his chest, followed by what seemed like light impacts, as if someone had thrown a hand full of marshmallows at him. Looking up to the top of the slope, Charles caught a glimpse of some purplish thing before it disappeared behind the wall of brown. "How odd..." Deciding that the brief encounter could be investigated later, he instead decided to take a closer look at the white circle. Being closer to it didn't seem to improve his understanding. Touching it only confused him further; a little bit seemed to stick to his finger, and the whole thing shrank away from where he touched it, sort of how a large block of sugar would react to a drop of water.
Looking up, Charles saw that the spot of purple had returned to the top of the slope. This time, it quite suddenly slid down and stood in front of him, but not close enough for him to reach it. Besides the sound of hammers underwater (which it seemed to be the source of), it was also producing a soft squeaking sound with a strange echo. He had never heard a single mouse in a cave, but he was certain that this was what it would sound like. Now that he had a better view, he could see that it was vaguely cylindrical, with five thick extensions reaching to the ground and a sixth reaching up, the peak of which was at approximately his elbow in height. On this sixth appendage, there seemed to be two blotches, both a lighter shade then the rest of the figure. He moved to take a closer look, but it suddenly scooted back before he could.
After a brief moment of staring at the lighter blotches, he felt a growing sensation that didn't quite feel natural. He had a vague, wordless impression that he ought to go, but it was like someone had whispered it to him so quietly that he didn't consciously hear it. He found the feeling just irritating enough that it drew away his curiosity. Looking behind him, Charles saw something that really stood out in the indistinct landscape; a perfectly black rectangle, about the size and shape of a doorway. Unlike everything else, it had clearly defined edges, and it even seemed to have depth, despite being completely black.
Deciding that it made the most sense, he stepped forward and put his hand in it. Pulling it out, Charles saw that that blackness did indeed seem to be ordinary darkness. The strange sensation renewed itself, and it fueled his desire for the world to make sense again. Although the rectangle was strange, it made much more sense than everything else around him, but he still wasn't sure exactly what to do with it. The sensation made a third appearance, and this time almost formed a cohesive concept; it gave him a rough impression of entering the shadowy rectangle. Seeing no reason to argue with the rogue thought, he stepped into the darkness.
Jerking awake, Charles found himself lying on the kitchen floor in front of the open refrigerator. His legs had grown chilly where they laid in front of it, but not painfully so, indicating that the fridge had only been open for a few minutes. He rubbed the sleep from one of his eyes before getting his feet underneath him. Reaching out to close the fridge, he paused, noticing a spot of white on his fingertips. His mind raced for a moment, but he then saw a jar of mayonnaise in the door, and hastily decided that it was the source. After shutting the appliance, he wiped his fingers free of the substance and headed to his proper bed. Tucking himself in, he thought about his unusual dream. "I should probably throw out those leftovers from St. Patrick's Day. That's probably what gave me a bad dream," he mumbled, as he drifted off to sleep.
Twilight jerked up suddenly, breathing heavily. A sudden, implacable dread had gripped her heart, and she quickly moved to check on Spike's basket. Seeing the baby dragon sleeping soundly, she breathed a sigh of relief, but the nameless horror still sat cold in her stomach. Looking at a clock on the wall, she winced; it was three in the morning. Getting up, she used her magic to take her sweat-soaked sheets and pillow to the upper patio and draped them over the banister to dry. Still feeling the need to calm her shaken nerves, She went downstairs and found a book to read. Although she was already quite familiar with the subject, an engrossing astrophysics book would probably take her mind off her troubles in no time.
After about twenty minutes of reading, Twilight finally felt at ease enough to return to bed. However, as she reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard an unearthly sound emanating from the basement. A low warble that sounded like some unholy combination of a howl, stones being crushed, and tearing metal permeated the air. It was beyond unnatural; her skin crawled the moment she heard it and even the ground beneath her hooves seemed to ripple in revulsion. Her instincts took over, causing her to bolt for the door. By the time she stopped, she was already standing in the middle of the street.
Taking several deep breaths, Twilight did her best to rationalize the situation. 'It's probably some animal that got trapped in the basement,' she thought, walking back to the tree. 'Maybe it's a raccoon that tipped over something heavy. It just sounded worse because of how late it is.' She started talking out loud in the hopes that hearing her own words would quell her terror while she headed to the basement. "Fear is the product of ignorance. Conversely, knowledge is the antithesis of fear. If I just see what's down there, it won't scare me anymore." Twilight opened the door and found out how wrong she was.
Twilight peeked her head in and was confronted with what could only be described as the ultimate Abomination. Nothing about it made logical sense. Its appendages twisted away from its trunk at angles that shouldn't have been physically possible, and its body was in a shape that defeated any sense of geometry. Even its colors didn't make any sense; it was as though she'd been given eyes that could see colors beyond the normal spectrum, but not the mind to handle it. Behind it stood something equally horrifying. A portal of nothingness loomed behind it, seemingly standing straight up and tilting back at the same time. It seemed so empty, so devoid of existence, that no word could describe it. It was like a hole, but not one Twilight had ever seen before. Instead, it seemed as though a great, rectangular tunnel had been bored through reality itself. But above all, they both seemed to have an unnatural level of detail. Simply staring at it was like peering through a microscope, and the longer she looked, the more she saw. It felt as though her mind was coming dangerously close to being filled to bursting.
'I need to get rid of these things,' Twilight thought. Hoping that the Hole was what the creature had come through, and further hoping that they would both disappear if she sent it through, she used her magic to give it a firm push. However, this seemed to have no effect. Focusing as best she could, she gave it a second push, which normally would have been enough to shift a small building. Still, the monstrosity was unfazed (relatively speaking). Mustering all her strength, she prepared to give it the mightiest blow she could deliver. She knew that such a blow against more conventional lifeforms would easily crush them, but she sincerely hoped that this creature could take it. Aiming for what appeared to be its center at the moment, she blasted it with enough force to send an elephant flying. Although it wasn't shifted, it did seem to have taken notice.
It slowly tilted its shortest appendage in Twilight's direction. As it slid up towards her, she could make out features that had been hidden by its previous angle. Unlike the other extensions, which branched off into smaller segments at their ends, this one was covered in thousands of tiny tendrils. Three holes were visible; two smaller ones that extended above the larger third one. Although none were very large, they also seemed like they could swallow up the world. Then, there were its eyes. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that those were eyes. They glistened and twitched as the head (as best she could describe it,) twisted upward, and they seemed to pierce through everything they pointed at. She willed her body to move, to avoid that unwholesome gaze, but her legs were locked in fear. For just a moment, she gazed into those glassy, almost metallic discs, before she managed to tear herself away.
Twilight sat on the floor, pressing her temples with her hooves. She squeezed and rubbed, clenched her teeth squeezed her eyes shut, but the image of those eyes just wouldn't go away. They spoke of an ominous, alien intelligence, not suited for the purview of any earthly creature. The mere memory of them caused her mind to scream in rebellion, with whispers of impossibilities clouding her thought. She began to mumble words randomly in the hopes that it would stave off the insanity raking at her mind. She scratched at her eyes and banged her head on the floor, anything to relieve her suffering. After a minute, the monster bellowed again; the sound had an amplifying effect on the new-found voices in her head, causing her to sob in agony.
Twilight could feel her mental fortitude draining away. Her mind felt like a single candle in a gale, sputtering and dying. But when she felt ready to give in, a small voice cut through the storm. "Twilight, what's going on? I'm so scared..." Working up her willpower, she looked up to see Spike standing at the top of the staircase. He was clutching his blanket and visibly shaking, his pupils reduced to slits in fear. Seeing him in this condition reignited Twilight's will, allowing her to fight back the voices with renewed strength. After a brief mental battle, she had finally reduced them to the mere occasional whisper, allowing her to think with some semblance of clarity.
"There's... Something... In the basement, Spike. I need to get rid of it, but I just need some time to figure it out." Her goal had been to keep the young dragon from further worry, but it didn't seem to work, and justifiably so. Twilight hardly sounded confident saying it. Nonetheless, she was sincerely thinking of a solution. 'It's obviously not immune to magic, because it noticed my pushing. It can't be forced to move, so that's out of the question. I'll have to convince it, but how? It seems intelligent, but I doubt even a translation spell would allow us to speak, although it's still worth a shot. I'm certain our anatomy is too different for it to recognize any gestures. The only other method I can think of is... No. No, no, no. It would be far too dangerous, I couldn't possibly... But will I have a choice...?'
Coming to a decision, Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned to Spike and gave him a serious look. "I have a plan, but I need to go down there for it to work. You must promise that, no matter what happens, you don't follow me."
"But, Twilight-"
"No! You can't go down there! Swear that you won't!" Tears formed in his eyes as he nodded his head. "Swear it!"
"... Okay, I swear." It hurt Twilight to shout at Spike, especially in his current state, but she couldn't allow him to suffer the horrors she had experienced. Looking up at him, she gave him a smile. Not the confident, caring smile she so desperately wanted to give, but a tearful one, full of defeated acceptance. She opened her mouth to say something that would encourage him, but she couldn't find the words. Instead, she turned around and entered the basement, reluctantly leaving behind the quietly crying dragon.
Twilight looked upon the Abomination again and thought about what she may have to do. If the translation spell didn't work, then neither would any form of suggestion spell, as they worked on similar principles. She'd be left with only one choice: direct thought control. Due to its invasive nature, which had a tendency to leave the subject of the spell with permanent brain damage, it had been banned hundreds of years ago. She only knew the theory behind it, but she was certain she could pull it off, if necessary.
Twilight watched as it touched a fan in the corner. The fan melted away where the nightmarish creature touched it; it seemed that even matter found the monstrosity's presence abhorrent. She gasped, covering her mouth with a hoof while her pupils dilated. 'That thing has got to go...' She took a few moments to cast her translation spell. Normally it wouldn't have taken her that long, but she was still battling the pains in her head. Unfortunately, she'd have to make eye contact for the spell to function properly, which she already knew was a dangerous prospect. On the other hoof, she wouldn't have to worry about getting its attention; it was already turning to face her.
Descending the stairs, Twilight stood in front of the Abomination, staring into those two unnatural orbs. Already she could feel the awful pressure on her consciousness. She thought of what cost there would be for her failure, and it gave her the strength to go on. "Please! You don't belong here! You need to go," she shouted, straining with every word. It stared at her for a moment, before leaning towards her. She shuffled back, not wanting to risk it touching her. Either it couldn't understand her even with the translation spell, or it ignored her request. 'Looks like I don't have any options left.'
The screaming in her brain was becoming unbearable, but Twilight couldn't give up. Focusing as hard as she could, she prepared the thought control spell. She stared into the creature's eyes yet again, and launched a mental anchor into its mind.
The monster's eyes were nothing in comparison to its mind. Like a hole in a dam, its unnatural thoughts poured out, surrounding Twilight's mind, smothering her thoughts. She pushed back, doing everything she could just to sustain her consciousness. She thought of what this thing could do if it found itself free in Equestria, and it gave her the strength to send a command into the Thing's mind. Nothing happened at first, but then it slowly turned around, moving towards the portal.
Twilight stood there, shaking and sweating, as it reached one of it's horrifying appendages into the nothingness. Although the vice-grip on her mind allowed little room for emotion, she was already feeling triumphant, until it pulled it's limb out again. 'No, no no!' She was so close, she couldn't fail now! Building her resolve again, she fired another mental command into its mind, which would have been devastating to any other creature, but didn't seem to cause any sort of harm to this nightmarish thing.
They both stood motionless as the corrupting influence started to warp the parts of Twilight's mind that it couldn't snuff out. She began seeing things that she knew weren't true, but they seemed so real. The things around her began to make less and less sense, but possibly more horrifying, the Abomination was beginning to make more sense. She was starting to understand how it saw the world, just as her own mind was unraveling. In a moment of clarity, she thought of what this thing could do to her friends, her family, and her loyal assistant, if she didn't get rid of it here and now. This gave her the strength to make one final order; using her new-found understanding of its mind, she built a rough image of what she wanted it to do and sent it down the mental link.
For one, dreadful moment, the Abomination did nothing. However, it seemed to have gotten the message, as it slowly but surely advanced into the Nothingness. Each part of it that passed the threshold seemed to not only be gone from Twilight's view, but to disappear completely. She couldn't quite explain it, but she felt that everything that entered the portal was being removed from existence itself. After what seemed like an eternity, it pulled its final appendage through the strange gate, which then faded away, as if it had never existed in the first place. Freed from the corrupting influence of the creature's mind, but not from the damage it had done, Twilight collapsed to the floor, sweating and breathing heavily. With dimmed vision and hazy hearing, she saw and heard five ponies rushing into the basement, before she finally succumbed to unconsciousness.
"... And so, two particles can be inversely correlated in behavior, regardless of the distance between them. However, that is all the time we have for today, class. Enjoy your weekend, you are dismissed." Charles turned off the projector and packed up his teaching material, occasionally answering questions from any student who hadn't already left. He took his time, as this was his last class for the day and he had no other pressing engagements.
With his briefcase tucked under his arm, Charles stepped out into the hallway. "Hello, professor!" Recognizing the familiar Slavic accent, he turned to the call and smiled at his friend.
"Hey, Dimmy, don't call me 'professor,'" Charles responded, "you're not even a student." The two chuckled over the good-natured teasing as they began walking. "By the way, thanks again for the ride. My car should be out of the shop tomorrow."
"It is no problem, my friend. Besides, we share the same route. It would have been wrong for me not to take you."
"So, what's up with you?"
"Oh, nothing much," Dmitri replied. "I am worried I will have to fail one of my students, though." Charles knew how personable his young peer was, and how good of a teacher it made him, but it also played against him when dealing with such situations. The older man mulled for a minute, trying to think of something encouraging to say.
"Well, don't worry too much about it," Charles said after a moment. "Applied Physics isn't for everyone. I'm sure he'll find something else he's better suited to."
"To which he is better suited," Dmitri corrected matter-of-factly. Charles scowled at him, but couldn't keep it up as they both burst out laughing. They continued their small talk as they reached the offices, putting their things in their respective places. After some brief paperwork, Dmitri spoke up. "Charles, before I forget, do you need a ride home?"
Parting the blinds with his fingers, Charles peeked outside, just in time to see a silver Tesla sedan pull into the university parking lot. He grinned to Dmitri, saying "That won't be necessary, pal. My ride's arrived."
Dmitri beamed and waved in response. "Well, I will see you on Monday, my friend!" Charles waved back as he left the office, making his way to the parking lot. As he passed through the double doors leading out of the building, he saw that the car's driver had parked next to the curb and was standing there, waiting for him. She was a middle-aged woman, only slightly shorter than him with a comfortably thin build. A thin, grey streak ran down the part in her straight, light brown hair, which hung in a ponytail down to the middle of her back. Thin lines framed her hazel eyes and freckled cheeks, but as far as Charles was concerned, they only accentuated the smile she wore. The modest, burgundy dress she wore contrasted nicely with her fair skin and matched her short-heeled shoes. They caressed for a moment when Charles reached her, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
"How was your day, darling?" the woman asked, as she made her way to the other side of the car. Charles clambered into the passenger side of the roomy sedan while she slipped into the driver's seat.
Charles shrugged. "Nothing special. At least, not until my sweet Lenore came to pick me up," he said with a wry smile. Lenore chuckled as they made their way off the premises.
"Oh Chuck, you're such a charmer." They drove in comfortable silence, at least for the first few minutes. Charles noticed Lenore seeming more distressed as she drew out a sigh. However, before he could say anything, she spoke up; "Charles, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly when I wrote that letter. I don't know why - I mean, I should have written that I was just going to visit my brother for a few days... If I hadn't been so careless, maybe -"
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Charles interrupted. "You've already said it, and there's nothing for you to be sorry for anyway. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. What you wrote was true; I'd put my work before our relationship. Besides, I'm the one who overreacted. I could have figured out easily enough that you hadn't left me. But you know me, just a regular drama queen," he said with a dry chuckle. Lenore looked to him, her eyes glistening, but her mouth turned up into a smile. "It's all behind us now. We're together; that's what's important, and I'll do well to remember it," he stated staunchly. Lenore returned her eyes to the road, but reached over and took Charles' hand. The simple contact comforted both of them as they made their way home.
Later that evening, Charles laid awake in bed, his wife sleeping softly beside him. Staring at the ceiling, he recalled the events of the past few months. After only a couple of days, Lenore had returned, shocked to find him in a desperate and disheveled state. After much apologizing and comforting on both sides, they worked on restructuring their lives and relationship. Not long into that, he received a report from the Navy's R&D department - along with a stream of requests from many prestigious science and technology universities.
As it turned out, his experiment had been a success; although not readily perceptible at the time (especially given both his and Dmitri's state), he had, in fact, been displaced in space several inches. Dmitri expressed concern over the results having been altered, mentioning something one of the government agents said, but after checking their own copies of the experiment's notes, all worries were wiped away. Unfortunately, they had both been suspended from the project given their explicit breach of work ethics, but Charles suspected that they'd be invited back on immediately after their year was up. In the meantime, they would have to settle with one of the professorships they'd been offered.
Rolling over, Charles frowned as he thought about that dream he'd had after the experiment. Somehow, the unusual dream had stuck with him, allowing him to recall it with nearly perfect clarity. Had the teleportation somehow messed with his mind? But that didn't explain the strange, earthy smell his kitchen had acquired for several days after the event. Lenore had posited that he may have tracked dirt into the kitchen at some point, but that was disproven when they found that no room with a door leading outside smelled similar. He wondered if he'd climbed through the window while sleep walking, but that was quickly dismissed when Lenore pointed out that the lock on said portal was as thoroughly jammed as it had been for years.
Turning to his other side, Charles dismissed the train of thought. It wasn't important. What was important was that he had his life back together, he'd be returning to his research before long, and most importantly, his beloved Lenore had returned. He had, of course, sent a letter mentioning the possible mental side effects of physical displacement. That being said, the dream hadn't been unpleasant; if anything, he felt like he was discovering some unknown world. Perhaps, if it was proven to be harmless, he could try teleporting just to see if he could replicate the dream.
Rolling back to his back, Charles drifted off into sleep, his head filled with the possibilities the future held.
Ponyville, three years later
Twilight stepped through a pair of double doors, flanked on either side by her friends. She took a deep breath and sighed happily; while the ponies in the psych ward of the Ponyville Medical Center had taken good care of her, being so dependent on others had been rather degrading. She looked up to the clouds, and in them say a writhing mass of-
With a blink, Twilight banished the thought. She knew she would never be free of the damage that monster had caused to her mind, but she could control it and live with it. Turning to look at her saddlebags, she adjusted a flap, briefly peeking inside as she did so.
Feeling a pair of small arms wrap around her neck, Twilight turned and knelt slightly to accept the hug, wrapping a leg of her own around Spike. It was the fifth one she'd received from him that day, and it was no less appreciated than the ones before it. She recalled how he had effectively saved her life; she made him promise not to follow her into the basement, but that didn't stop him from going and getting all her friends in the middle of the night. If not for that, who knows what harm would have come to her? "I'm so glad you're coming back home, Twilight! The library just isn't the same without you."
"Nothing's the same without you, darling," A white unicorn with a well maintained, purple mane said, "and no one, for that matter. Poor Spike; for those first few months, we could hardly get him out of the house."
Twilight leaned into her friend, giving her an affectionate nuzzle. "I can't thank you enough for letting him stay with you, Rarity."
"Oh, think nothing of it. After all, I couldn't leave my poor, little Spikey-Wikey alone in that old library, all by himself! Especially not after... What happened."
Everypony except Twilight winced at Rarity's words. Twilight took a breath and smiled in an attempt to calm her friends down. However, before she could say anything, a blue pegasus with multichromatic hair flew in front of her to get her attention. "So what was that Thing, anyway? Some kind of evil squid-pony, or something?"
"Rainbow Dash!" The orange mare to Twilight's right shot out. "You know better'n that! Whatever that thing was ain't meant to be seen by ponies, and you should know what talkin' about It could do to Twilight."
Rainbow Dash landed, looking away sheepishly. "It's alright, Applejack," Twilight interceded. "I'm well enough to talk about It, at least a little." She put a hoof on the earth pony's withers, bringing her down from her righteous anger. "And to answer your question, Rainbow, it looked something like... This." Using her magic, Twilight took a small, wooden figurine out of her saddlebags. It was about four inches tall with five extremities. Two of them, set at the bottom of It's twisted, pear-shaped body, were long and thin, both ending in five stubby tentacles. They supported It's stooped form on a simple pedestal. Another two, curled up in front of It near the top, were similar to It's legs, but smaller and with longer tentacles at the ends. The last one, placed on the top of the body, was much shorter and stouter than the other four. On the front of the head-like appendage were drilled three holes, set up as the corners of an inverted triangle, with a short spike extending from the triangle's center. Around the sides and back of the head was a wreath of very thin tendrils.
"Oh... Well, I bet I could still take It..." Rainbow Dash said weakly.
"Well, maybe you think so, Dash," Applejack replied, "but ah know ah certainly wouldn't wanna tangle with that Thing."
"Oh, I don't know," a yellow, pink-maned pegasus said quietly, "It may not look nice, but maybe It was just lost and confused."
"Yeah, what Fluttershy said!" A bouncy, pink mare replied. "Maybe he came here by accident and was reeeally curious. He could've just been looking around!"
"Pinkie Pie, don't be preposterous!" Rarity retorted. "Just look at It! It has tentacles... And spikes... And no sense of poise whatsoever!"
"Actually, they may be right." Twilight ignored the incredulous gazes her friends gave her. "In my correspondence with the Princess Celestia, we discussed It's behavior. Despite how... Harmful... It was, nothing It did seemed to be overtly malicious. At most, it left some deep footprints and destroyed a fan. Given how easily It resisted my magic, we think it could have very easily shrugged off my mental commands if It had so chosen."
A sudden silence fell as the significance of what Twilight had just said fell on each individual. After a moment, Spike spoke up. "Well, at least It can't come back... Right, Twilight?"
Twilight paused for a moment, thinking briefly. "Yes, Spike. It's gone now, and It's not coming back." She spoke with conviction, but if she had been looking into any of their eyes, they would have seen a flash of doubt. With the subject settled, they made for the library, their conversation dissolving into friendlier talk.
After the girls helped Twilight get settled in (including a relatively calm "welcome home" party by Pinkie and the ensuing clean up), it was getting late, and her friends made for their respective homes. Standing in the doorway for a moment after waving her friends good-bye, Twilight breathed a sigh of content. She was happy to have such good friends on whom she could rely. However, there was one task she felt she must do on her own, and with Spike in bed and her friends on their way home, now was the time to do it.
Quietly retrieving her saddlebags, Twilight removed the wooden figurine, along with half a dozen more that were identical to it. Turning it over in her magic, she recalled her time making them; after a few months in the psych ward, she had been cleared for group activities, and chose to take up wood carving. She was still being plagued by waking visions of the Monstrosity and alien whispers at the time, but much to her surprise, she found that trying to depict them actually reduced their effect on her. She remembered the scores of statuettes she made, none matching what she saw but each a little closer than the last. Conversely, which each she made, her own mental image of the Abomination became less horrifying. Finally, she had made these last seven in only the past couple of weeks, each as uncanny as she could recall the Horror being, and yet real enough for her mind to comprehend.
Twilight began placing the figurines strategically around her home. One behind a book that was seldom ever touched by any other than her, one in a kitchen cupboard, and so on. As she was placing one behind her desk in the common room, she heard a creaking on the stairs. "Twilight? What are you doing with those things?"
"Spike, what are you doing up? I thought you'd gone to bed."
"I had, it's just... Sleep doesn't come as easy to me as it used to." Twilight averted her eyes, full of regret. "I-it's not your fault, Twilight!" Spike quickly amended. "Um... I'm certain I'll get better with time. Especially now that you're home." Looking to him again, Twilight saw him wearing a sincere smile, and returned one in kind.
"Alright. And to answer your question, these figurines are effectively helping me stay sane." Twilight turned somber as she continued. "What that Thing did to me skewed how I see the world. Sometimes, I'll look at something perfectly normal, but it will seem weird and twisted. Looking at these statues helps me rationalize what I'm seeing."
"Well, if it helps... But do you have hide them around the library? They give me the creeps."
"I may not need them someday, Spike, but for now, they need to be nearby in case I have an episode. Don't worry, I'll put them out of sight."
"But I'll still know they're there..." Spike mumbled under his breath, as he made his way back up the stairs. "Good night, Twilight."
Twilight reciprocated the remark and returned to setting the statuettes. After putting one in her room (after Spike seemed to have gone to sleep again,) and leaving one in her saddlebags, she headed to the last room she felt would need them: the basement. The fan had been removed and the footprints It had left had been filled in with fresh cement, leaving white patches where the Horror had walked. Feeling that this room would need a little extra support, Twilight placed both of the remaining carvings in plain view, one where the portal had appeared and one where the fan had been.
Having finished her work, Twilight took a breath and appreciated the cleanliness of the room. Despite what had happened, Spike had kept the library immaculate, including the basement. The computer was still covered in sheets, but after quickly checking under them, she saw that it had still been dusted regularly. She was relieved that It had taken more interest in the fan than the priceless, multi-ton collection of hardware.
As Twilight turned to make her way out of the room and back to bed, she noticed a book sitting on the pedestal. But not just a book, the book. She thought Spike would have returned it to Canterlot, but on closer inspection, she saw it was caked in dust; it seemed that he hadn't touched it, and she couldn't blame him. Fortunately, this also meant that she would be able to get everything done tonight, or at least within the next couple of nights.
After finding her notes from that night (also covered in dust), Twilight blew them off and opened the book to the appropriate page. After collecting more writing supplies, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do. While merely copying a spell was fairly simple (for her at least), reverse-engineering one was a much greater challenge. The fact that she'd have to do it in secrecy only made things even more difficult. But with a look of fierce determination, she started writing. Twilight now knew the suffering that could be caused by that reality-defying Abomination, and this fail-safe counterspell would ensure it would never happen to any being in Equestria again.
