> Time & Space
>  by SomeoneD
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Liam: Resist Urge
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you – the reader, that is – had met Liam a few days ago, you would have met a perfectly normal human. He would be friendly, and chatty, and even though you may have disliked his passion for romantic analysis and found the way he treats it as a science a bit weird; or found his love for Ska music a bit dislikeable on a personal level, you would have found him normal. You might have liked him, despite his idiosyncrasies.

Had you met him a day ago (speaking from your linear standpoint of time progressing as a line), then you would have met the Mage of Time. Fighting alongside his friends who had been given similarly lofty titles – the Knight of Doom, Thief of Heart and the Bard of Space – he had been forced to take arms against what called itself a Game doing its best to end his life. You would have either been fearful if you knew of his powers; or would have laughed at his ridiculous getup. If you had been fighting alongside him, mind, you would have seen him as a partner.

Had you met him today (again, from your viewpoint), you would have met one of two seemingly unique ponies. Of course, the fact they are ponies would not be what makes them unique; what makes them both unique among the local populace is that they have retained their unique gifts over Time and Space. Beyond that, if you were to judge him on the mental merits of a pony, you would come to the conclusion that he is in fact a very typical pony.

Of course, he is not alone. If you had met one of his friends, Paul, on this day instead, you would likely draw the same conclusion for different reasons. He was friendly… enough, and he was a lot less chatty, but his love for hacker culture and his rather rushed style of life would in the eyes of some compensate for that. Of course, hacker culture meant a lot less in a world that didn’t have computers but instead relied on magic, but he made do.

Had you met him a day ago (speaking from around the same linear timepoint as with Liam) then you would have met the Bard of Space. Working alongside his friends, he was using his words to bend Space to his whims, assisting the team in not being killed. A truly noble goal.

Anyway, omnipotence comes with a price of having many things to do in such little time, so I shall leave the rest of the story to Liam’s ever-vigilant eyes. I would leave it to Paul, but he is a bit… unreliable.

Author: Let Liam tell the story.

Sburb as a general whole is – for want of a more fitting term – hell. It’s a constant battle between you and it, and it was always tipping the scales in its favour in any way it could. For some players, it could break them, mentally or otherwise. This, known as ‘going grimdark’, which is often due to the ever present influence of the Horrorterrors of the Furthest Ring, eldritch beings that tended to be less than pleasant for the human mind to deal with. This is well documented, of course, but some Heroes tend to ignore the documents and lore around them in favour of influencing the all-out war. That almost always leads to... unfavourable results.

Sburb is an inevitability for every world; Earth; Equestria; and many millions of other planets with life that we haven’t even come close to discovering. At some point, Sburb (or however it is named) will make itself apparent. Some say its purpose is to bring about the natural death of the planet. Some consider it a blessing, putting particular focus on the ultimate reward. (For those of you that are interested, its Ultimate Reward is a universe to rule, or a universe to live in. It’s your reward, after all, you get to choose.) Of course, with such a prize available, it must ensure that only those whom are worthy can play it.

As an example, Sburb considers itself a ‘game’ and then will promptly treat your planet to meteor death to save itself and buy you some time to win. It only gets more confusing and worse from there. And the worst part is that, if you are fated to play Sburb and achieve the Ultimate Victory, you don’t have a choice. Failing to do so will simply cause reality to erase you and your branch of life.

Of course, all this  ‘proving you can play it’ was pointless, as thanks to its actions that had it spread throughout eons of time, if you were going to play it, then would you be predestined to play it all along. Similarly, if you were not meant to play it, then you never will, and nothing can possibly change that fact. So, for billions and billions of people (or whatever creature the planet holds) whom have their own lives, families and dreams, they will mean nothing in the grand scheme.

Sburb lived in a world known as the Medium; in which everywhere had a purpose. Every tree, every rock, every single entity that could possibly be had a reason for being there. Be it the intricate cable patterns of Liam’s Land (Cords and Clockwork), or the vast tree groves of Paul’s Land (Trees and Frost), it was filled with purpose. Of course, not all of the Medium is as pleasant or as simple. The Battlefield – a giant checkerboard planet of varying dimensions - always has two particularly unique qualities. Firstly, it’s the battleground of an eternal war of Good versus Evil; White versus Black, that Evil is always destined to win. The chess motifs are not lost on many a player, and it has them in abundance. Secondly, it contains the final component of the Ultimate Reward.

Lots more could be said about the machinations of Sburb and how the world operates, but there is little time to dwell on facts. The battle was already won; the Ultimate Reward ready to be claimed. But the two of you – of the four brave players who originally entered – who managed to survive this Game quickly find exhaustion taking over. You look to your last remaining partner. You wouldn’t call him a partner after what you both went through, however. More… a brother.

He just smiles at you, returning your look, and with that you allow the deepest sleep you will ever experience to claim you.

So, of course, the first thing you ever see – after waking up – is a scene that could be taken from the ‘Idiots Guide to Nature’. The world around you was paradoxically both at peace and constantly shifting and changing. Of course, as the Mage of Time, you are more than used to paradoxes, including your own conception. Your own conception is in fact a particularly big example of a paradox, as you could effectively call yourself a clone of yourself sent on one of the meteors destined to hit your planet. Irrespective of that, the scene you find yourself in is an extremely stark contrast to the Land you were given which was effectively a huge rip-off of steampunk culture with added cables throughout. It is also exactly where you were not expecting to be.

Moments later, after taking in the sight you awoke to and having a few moments to realise that this was not what you had been expecting, you feel what can only be described as pure agony on a level you haven’t felt since fighting the Black King. A quick look down at your body shows you exactly why – you landed in a heap, crushing all four of your legs – which had bent several of them the wrong way and damaged a couple of your hooves.

Wait.

You glance down again to make sure, but it’s official; you have hooves and four legs. 

How are you going to react to this?

Liam: Freak out!

You contemplate the idea of flipping out for all of 0.83 seconds before deciding that it’s a frankly ridiculous idea to even consider. You don’t have the strength or the mental willpower to freak out about this, anyway – you had just been fighting a creature that was three parts deadly to two parts horrifying, and any reward is a good reward. So what if you had been dumped into a world, and a body, that you aren’t familiar with? You just beat Sburb! If this is your prize, then when you find Paul, you will definitely throw a ‘congratulations-for-creating-a-universe-and-earning-hooves’ party. And then you will build a memorial for Ramona and Rhia for the sacrifice they made.

Instead, you would accept this change with a calm, rational mind, which allows you to think about the two more important things. Firstly, you can’t move your legs, which is going to make moving a massive challenge. You think about rolling around, but then you realise you would crush your legs and move them around, which would hurt a lot. Secondly, you need to find out more about this universe you created (you think), and find Paul.

A rumbling from your stomach reminds you of a third point that could be potentially more important than the first two. Your stomach’s rumbling alerts you to the massive hunger that just manifested. As you still find movement to be an impossible challenge, you resign yourself to digging around your Sylladex for anything edible you may have stashed in there.

Your sylladex is actually a wonderful device when you don’t have it clogged to the brim with useless junk, which is never. An impossible system of storing items in cards, and using what is known as a fetch modus to draw them as you want. Your fetch modus is Array, which allows you to store and draw any item from your sylladex at any point; provided you can remember what card the item you are after is in.

Which, right now, is proving incredibly difficult for you to manage.

You try card four, which rewards you with a spraying of several books, mostly on Skaian background and the lore of Sburb and Skaia as a whole. You note the title of one; “A Checkerboard Orange”, before tucking it back into its card. It might prove useful.

You try card twenty-six, which rewards you with a couple of cinderblocks, which for some reason are launched into a nearby tree, where they explode into a rough powder and nearly split the tree in half. 

You pick card seventeen at random, which instead gives you a sword which inserts itself neatly into the ground. It’s not one of your better ones, ‘Blade of Heart’, mainly because you never figured out how to activate its abilities. You recaptchalogue it into your Strife Deck anyway – a specialised deck of Captchalogue Cards, which when combined with a Strife Modus allows you to use any card that it will allow you to store within it as a weapon. Thankfully, the Strife Modus operates in a different manner, with merely ‘Preferred’ cards that draw first. While this has led to you drawing such hilarious swords like the ‘Swordpop’ (which, as the name indicates, is merely a sword popsicle) in heated battles, it doesn’t normally let you down.

You finally try card fifty-eight, which rewards you with a pizza you don’t remember putting in your Sylladex. Its pineapple and sweetcorn, with no meat at all, which you are immediately thankful for. As your mind turns to the idea of eating meat, you are filled with a sense of revulsion that is unlike you.

Irrespective of the wave of revulsion and nausea that just passed through you, you begin to devour the newly-found vegetarian pizza with gusto, taking only minutes to eat what is a large pizza. After recaptchaloguing the books (that information could cause some natives, if any, to be confused) you return to lying down, unable to move.

As if the universe could sense your resignation, you hear a small voice speak to you. You don’t know who it belongs to, as you cannot turn over to see, but it’s decidedly female.

???: Um, hello… are you alright?
LIAM: I can’t move.
???: Oh, okay… do you want me to get help, at all?
LIAM: That would be absolutely lovely.

After that, whomever the voice belonged to turns around and begins to trot off, a typical ‘clop clop clop’ of an average sized pony being made as she walks. You never did catch her name. Nor do you have any idea whom she is asking for help, or where she is going to ask.

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long – roughly 12 minutes, 14 seconds later, you hear the sound of walking ponies heading towards you. In the time you had to wait, you were able to look around your new body enough to realise that you, also, were a talking pony. You weren’t able to have a proper look at anything on your back, legs, or face, as trying to move your head that far was a futile task, there were no mirrors or reflective surfaces nearby, and your legs’ status of being in pain hadn’t changed.

???: There he is. I’m sorry I… I didn’t pick him up, I’m not that… well, strong.
???: It’s not a problem, Fluttershy. After all, not many ponies can pick up another pony.
FLUTTERSHY: Are you, well, going to help?
???: It depends if he wants helping.
LIAM: That also assumes I am a male.
FLUTTERSHY: Oh, I’m sorry… It’s just your mane-
LIAM: I’m kidding, I am a male.
???: Well, anyway. Do you want some help?
LIAM: As I told Fluttershy, yes, I do.
???: And how do you know her name? She didn’t tell you it! She told me that specifically!
LIAM: You said it.
???: Oh, well. My name is Twilight Sparkle.
TWILIGHT: I’m going to carry you to Ponyville, where Nurse Redheart can have a look at you. Is that okay?
LIAM: I’m not going anywhere else.

Content with that being a ‘yes’, the pony known as Twilight does something that you still cannot see, and then you lift into the air. Not – as you expected – by her helping Fluttershy physically carry you, but as you notice a ‘magical’ aura around yourself (defaulting to magic as you don’t know what else it could be) you realise you are being levitated.

Happy with this situation, not like that you have much choice in the matter, you go back to rooting around your Sylladex (stealthily, of course, as explaining the mechanics of it to a pony is not something you feel up to right now) in order to find your EyeTop, which is your main computer. It was one of the things made using Sburb’s alchemy system, which while being long and infinitely complicated, boiled down to being able to combine items using machines the game gave you to make new items. The EyeTop was produced from a contact lens, an iPhone, and a Macbook, and has served you well.

After a near miss with another cinderblock (which had no right being in your sylladex) and a single branch from the Land of Trees and Frost (which won’t bite you in the arse at all) you find it, and it immediately activates by falling into your eye. As always, this is painful but not excessively, especially compared to the intense throbbing coming from your legs, so not making noise is pretty simple. It immediately boots up and activates Pesterchum – the main chatting program you and your team used to keep in contact through your time in Sburb, showing it just in front of your eyes as an overlay on the world around you.

It appears Paul is online.

You double click his name (which is done by looking towards his name, and blinking twice) in order to have a chat.
	

> Pesterlog I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTE: For best results, re-read Chapter I (due to the rewrite) and set your viewmode to 'Monospace'. Thank you! ~ Someone

temporalWierdness [TW] has started pestering wondermentWizard [WW]
TW: Paul
TW: Please.
TW: Tell me you are there
TW: Or I am actually going to do an acrobatic pirouette off the handle into a tub full of insanity.
WW: jesus, man, keep a lid on it
WW: ive been fighting my sylladex for like
WW: four hours
WW: trying to get it to open my hudtop for me
WW: would not believe how much junk was stacked on top of my hudtop
WW: like seriously
WW: i had like fourteen cinderblocks in there for some reason
TW: You too?
WW: btw if you hadn’t guessed we are ponies now
TW: I had a hunch but I wasn’t sure.
TW: Anyway where the hell are you.
TW: I woke up in this forest someplace and now these two ponies are taking me back into town.
TW: I think anyway.
WW: hang on
WW: someone wants to talk to you
TW: What.
WW: Hellllllo!~
TW: God damn it Paul you are such a tool.
WW: Heehee. What’s a tool? Is it like a screwdriver?! Oooh, or maybe a hammer...
TW: Okay two things. 
TW: One who are you.
TW: Two where am I.
TW: Three put Paul back on so I can kill him.
WW: But that was three things, silly!~
TW: I really cannot be bothered to care.
WW: :D!
WW: Well, Liam, you are in Equestria!
WW: And I am Pinkie Pie! Party Pony Planner with Personal Proficiency at Party Production!
TW: Those sure were p’s.
TW: Anyway who are these two?
TW: Paul’s a dick he can wait.
TW: One’s called Twilight and the other is called Fluttershy.
TW: I think.
TW: What kind of names are those anyway.
TW: Sounds like some my little pony-alike name.
WW: What’s My Little Pony? :?
TW: Okay I’m calling bullshit on that face it’s impossible to make.
TW: Also don’t worry about it.
TW: Back to my first question please.
WW: They are my friends!
WW: liam
WW: whatever you do
WW: dont mention parties
WW: please ever
WW: ps i stole the hudtop from pinkie
TW: Why?
TW: Why shouldn’t I mention parties?
TW: It’s not like she’s gonna plan a ‘welcome-to-magical-ponyland’ party
WW: Oh! You know what this calls for?! A PARTY!
WW: But not a magical ponyland party, that happened a week ago!
WW: You missed it. :(
WW: No, this is gonna be a “Welcome Mage of Time and Bard of Space!” party!
WW: :D :D :D
TW: I guess that’s why.
TW: Also really Paul you told her our titles are you insane.
WW: she swiped the hudtop from me
WW: so yeah i didnt plan the party
WW: anyway she knows your coming here as apparently the princesses are coming according to this little dragon thing
WW: something about sensing our magic aura idk i wasnt listening
TW: Pause. Back up a bit.
TW: Princesses?
WW: oh yeah ive been asking pinkie some questions
WW: turns out this world is ruled by three princesses
WW: celestia luna and cadence
WW: or light dark and love
TW: Okay, why are they coming?
WW: reason they gave or what i reckon
TW: Both.
WW: them: to greet the new arrivals to ponyville as well as to check and see if you aren’t hurt and ask about that magical aura
WW: me: think about it
WW: light dark and love
WW: also known as
TW: ...wait.
TW: Light, Doom and Heart?
WW: yeah
WW: especially since i can still do the spacey thing
WW: which according to pinkie doesnt make sense as she is the only non-unicorn with magic that manifests that way
TW: Back up again. Non-Unicorn? You mean there are Unicorns here?
WW: you know what
WW: screw it
WW: ill tell you when you get here
wondermentWizard [WW] ceased pestering temporalWierdness [TW]
> Liam: Be Awed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTE: I have a fully formatted - text colours, font changes, etc - version avaliable as a Word Document if anyone wants it. I doubt you do, but it's there if you do. Also, I'm terrible at writing faux-Southern, if anyone wants to help I'd be appreciative.

Liam: Assess Situation

You are still being held in the magical (well, you say magic, but you only default to that because you don’t know what it really is, but you are beginning to think it really is magic) telekinetic grip of a one Miss Twilight Sparkle. The forest you are wandering through is beginning to thin out; the ground is become more worn, and you realise with a sharp curse (under your breath, a real gentleman never swears in front of a lady) that you are heading towards civilisation. Not that there is anything wrong with civilisation, but you really do just want to find Paul and figure out what exactly has gone on.

That said, Paul did say ‘see you when you get here’, so there is that. It all depends on where exactly ‘here’ is.

LIAM: So, how much further is this going to be?
TWILIGHT: Not that much further. Fluttershy flew off to go let them know we are coming.

You look around, to realise that she wasn’t lying – the pony who called herself Fluttershy is nowhere to be found. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything but Pesterchum for at least 7 minutes, 43 seconds. You smile, a bit obnoxiously, revelling in your special ‘timey ability’ to being able to track time perfectly. It had been useful when coordinating attacks; now it might just make you suited to being a living watch.

???: Howdy, Twi.

You glance at the next pony you see. Bright orange, with even brighter hair, and with an odd mark emblazoned on her… flanks? You never were much of a horse fan, so the lingo is a bit lost on you. Irrespective of this useless thought, the mark was simply a bunch of apples. Curiosity peaked, you look towards the same area on Twilight, and see a similar mark; a bunch of stars. 

LIAM: What are those marks?
TWILIGHT: ...you don’t know what a Cutie Mark is?
LIAM: Let’s assume I took a nasty bump to head and say ‘no’.
???: Why, ah reckon everypony knows that.

Oh god, they say everypony. This is going to get old incredibly quickly.

TWILIGHT: A Cutie Mark shows you what your special talent is. Applejack’s is apples as she lives and works on Sweet Apple Acres.
APPLEJACK: Which, ah might add, is where y’all are.
TWILIGHT: My mark is these stars, and they show my proficiency with magic and the power of my friendships.
LIAM: Okay.
TWILIGHT: And yours is... well, I don’t know. Normally, it’s kind of obvious, but I can’t understand yours. Are you a gearsmith?
LIAM: What?
TWILIGHT: Your mark... let me guess, you don’t know what it is, do you?
LIAM: I’ve not been able to look at it.

At this point, Twilight rotates and flips you around (causing you a bit of pain in your legs in the process as they flail about) in order to let you have a look at your flanks. It’s a bright red gear, with nine prongs. Your face breaks out into a smile, as you understand what that means. Annoyingly, however, it’s going to be hard to explain what this actually means without having to explain how you got the powers, and you still don’t feel up to that.

You decide on the simple ‘tell them and refuse to answer any questions about Skaia’ approach.

LIAM: It’s the symbol of Time.
TWILIGHT: ...and that means?
LIAM: I can mess around with Time. I can also track it perfectly.
APPLEJACK: ...ah never thought ah’d see the day when ah’d meet a liar would could lie to me.
LIAM: I don’t get it. Why do you say that?
TWILIGHT: She is the Element of Honesty, and it makes her near enough impossible to lie to.
LIAM: Well, I’m not lying.
TWILIGHT: But nopony can control time! Starswirl the Bearded’s research into it found it to be a strict progression of cause and effect.
LIAM: Well, my time control is deterministic, so that’s still technically true.
APPLEJACK: What’s ‘de-ter-min-istic’ mean?
LIAM: If I was to jump back in time, we already have, and so we are destined to. If I wasn’t meant to, we never will, and so are destined not to.
LIAM: Every action I take with the timestream is predestined to happen and will happen for that reason.
APPLEJACK: Ah... what?
LIAM: I’ll explain better later, when my legs aren’t killing me.
TWILIGHT: Oh, right! I’m sorry! We’ll see you later, Applejack.
APPLEJACK: Ah’ll head in with ya’ll, Pinkie’s throwin’ another party.

Wait. ‘Pinkie’. ‘Party’. You might be seeing Paul sooner than you expected. Bonus!

TWILIGHT: What one is it this time? “Happy Thursday Celebration”? “Alliteration Festival”? “Midnight Crew Comic Launch Party”?
APPLEJACK: Ah think she said “Welcome Bard of Space and Mage of Time” party.

You immediately begin to wonder just how much Paul has been explaining to this pony in return for what he has been asking; as well as how much belief she puts into him. You also feel a slight bit of jealousy; she said your title first when she spoke to you over Pesterchum. Either way, they both continue to walk on, with you following in Twilight’s ever-present magical grip. Not like that you have that much choice, given how this works. You realise, as they walk and you float, that for an apple orchard Sweet Apple Acres is on the rather hilarious side of huge. It must be a huge hassle for them all to harvest, you think to yourself. It might even make for a funny episode of a television show, now you think about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you completely fail to notice the path becoming stone, the buildings that are appearing and the other ponies walking around you, staring at the rather unusual sight of another pony being levitated by a pony that is just casually walking. You don’t know that levitating another pony is supposed to be nigh impossible for all but the most powerful unicorns. 

???: Ohmygosh, a new pony!
???: TWILIGHT, PUT HIM DOWN AND LET HIM RUN!

Twilight, shocked by the loud voice telling her what to do, doesn’t put you down. Instead, she drops you, forgetting that your legs had been mostly broken or at least hurt by the surprise arrival into this place. After a short burst of pain, it passes in time for you to realise a pink pony is barrelling towards you.

In a flit of sudden panic, memories from the Game rushing into the forefront of your mind, you tap into your powers that the Game gave you and throw yourself back an hour. Within an instant, you are back in the exact same position you were in when you threw yourself, but your internal clock was telling you it was about 57 minutes before when you just were. Which is a bit weird, you think to yourself, as your accuracy of jumps in the timestream is normally infallible.

Realising that you didn’t see yourself on the way in, you – with great difficulty, and if others were to see it a bit hilariously – drag yourself into a nearby corner, hiding yourself from all but the most determined of onlookers. And then you wait, patiently of course, for 55 minutes, 30 seconds. You spend most of that time simply listening to the world around you and occasionally checking the time with yourself. You keep this up until you hear a typical clop of feet, followed by two sentences you got to hear once before. Looking on, poking your head up from the makeshift wall you hid behind, you can see that the pony that barrelled towards you was probably ‘Pinkie Pie’ from your Pesterchum conversation, whereas the other pony was most certainly Paul if his mark had anything to do with it.

A spiral shape easily identifiable by all whom recognise it as the symbol of Space. Much like your symbol of Time was an indicator of you, your powers, and your destined fate, the symbol of Space was that for Paul.

PINKIE: Ohmygosh, a new pony!
PAUL: TWILIGHT, PUT HIM DOWN AND LET HIM RUN!

You realise with a grimace that this could have been avoided had you simply told Paul earlier that you had lost the use of your legs. Moments later, you hear a quiet ‘pop’ as you see yourself kicking your time powers in, and launching yourself backward. You then decide to crawl out of your hiding place, but before you get the chance you hear them begin to speak again.

PAUL: Oh come on! Who knows how far he threw himself back.
TWILIGHT: That doesn’t make any sense!
TWILIGHT: He isn’t even a unicorn!
PAUL: Well, I can still teleport, and I’m a Pegasus. What about that?
TWILIGHT: None of this makes any sense!

You realise that Twilight is not one of a very open mind when it comes to things she doesn’t, won’t or can’t understand, and so decide to put her out of her misery.

LIAM: Anyone mind coming to get me? Legs are still out of commission.
PINKIE: Oh, he’s over here now!
LIAM: Anyone BESDIES her!

You, once again, feel the tugging sensation of Twilight’s magical grip hoisting you out of your hiding place and back into the view of ponies all around. You feel a little self-conscious, being put on display like this, but given your legs are still not working particularly effectively you understand it’s for the best. You look at Paul, and grin wildly. You also take a look at what appears to be a bundle of pure energy that is Pinkie, and she seems to be desperate to either tackle or hug you.

LIAM: Hey, Paul.
PAUL: ‘Hey’. We defeat an Eldritch being and all you can say on seeing me again is ‘Hey’.
LIAM: We did, didn’t we? Odd feeling, that.
PINKIE: I need to go preeeeeepaaaaaare~
???: THOUST SHOULD NOT, YET.

Jesus Christ, you think to yourself, that was loud. As the buzzing in your ears begins to subside and your hearing begins to return, you hear Twilight talking to one hell of a pony. Looking over at her, you notice that it was easily twice as tall as her, with both wings and a unicorn horn that looks like it could be used to put holes in people. You have a sudden, worrying thought that this could potentially be the Grim Reaper and (her?) assistant, and your train of thought drifts to how much damage that incredibly pointy horn could do.

???: Where did you say you found this pony, Twilight Sparkle?
TWILIGHT: Just in the woods, not even in the Everfree Forest. Fluttershy was the one who found him initially.
???: Dost thou think, Sister?...
???: I am not sure. What I do know is that we should stop speaking as if they aren’t present. Liam, Paul, please.
TWILIGHT: Erm, I think Liam is the one I’m holding because his legs aren’t working. He bent them up pretty badly.
PINKIE: What do you think, Paul?!
PAUL: He just time travelled. He’s definitely Liam.
???: One moment, then, Twilight Sparkle.

The pony you have mentally assigned as your executioner began walking towards you, horn lowered. Rather than becoming a pincushion, however, as you expected, her horn begins to glow. Your legs begin to bend themselves back into the right position, and the dull ache coming from them subsides and fades in about 3.2 seconds. Twilight gently lowers you to the ground, and you tentatively take a step. Somehow – and you aren’t complaining – you have an innate knowledge on how to trot. (Your horse knowledge isn’t the best, but it isn’t useless.) You make a beeline over to the pony that healed you; you decide to at least be polite in the face of the unknown, irrespective of position.

LIAM: Thank you... sorry, I don’t know your name.
???: I am Princess Celestia, Ruler of the Kingdom of Canterlot and Goddess of Light.
CELESTIA: I felt you might appreciate the title, given your own. If you are wondering, I cannot read minds or people – Pinkie has been sending invites to everypony about your welcoming party.
CELESTIA: Us included.
CELESTIA: But, enlighten me. Who am I speaking to, title and name, if you please.
LIAM: Liam Flatfoot, Mage of Time and Prince of the Land of Cords and Clockwork. The second part is debatable, and the title never meant much anyway.

You didn’t notice that during this exchange, Paul had walked up beside you. Well, you didn’t notice until he so rudely butted into your conversation.

PAUL: Paul Chelwood, Bard of Space and Prince of the Land of Trees and Frost. As with Liam, the second part... can be debated.
CELESTIA: How so? Why can it be debated?
PAUL: Well, since we are here, we can pretty much presume that we can’t get back to either of them, so being royalty of them is kind of irrelevant.
LIAM: I’m fairly sure what I just did about five minutes ago for you all and an hour and five minutes for me proves our first titles are still very much valid.
CELESTIA: It appears we have much to discuss. Would you mind if we did so?
LIAM: Depends what you want to know about. And I’d prefer to sit down, this might take a while. There is a lot to tell.
CELESTIA: Of course. Luna?
LUNA: Yes, sister?
CELESTIA: Please show these two to the Ponyville Library. Twilight, could you please gather your friends and the Elements of Harmony please? Meet us at the library. Only as a precaution, I might add.
TWILIGHT: Yes, princess!

The pony calling herself Celestia; and who is apparently one of those Princesses that Paul mentioned in your earlier Pesterchum conversation, took a glance at you as she said that. Your social etiquette might not be brilliant, and you are fairly sure there are rules with ponies that there aren’t with humans, but the look she gave you showed she meant no offence. Besides, you are in a forgiving mood, with your recent impossible victory, so you decide to just smile back to show you understand.

CELESTIA: Do you two prefer your title, or name?
LIAM: Either is fine with me.
PAUL: Same here.
LUNA: In that case, Liam, Paul, wouldst thou please follow me?

And with that, she walked (trotted) away, leaving you and Paul to follow. Having little other choice, you complied, more nervous than you had been in a long time.
> Liam: Recount
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	You had been asked – incredibly politely – to wait in the library until Celestia and Luna returned. Luna had gone off about 12 minutes ago to ‘sort some things out’, which was just vague enough to be suspicious. Paul, however, was busy sitting around with his eyes closed. He was deeply concentrating on something, but it was impossible to tell what it was unless you had a deep knowledge of his powers. Thankfully, you did.

PAUL: They are nearby.
LIAM: And how exactly do you- Space, got it. Innate presence detection, right?
PAUL: Yeah, you aren’t the only one with innate always on powers.

Before you could continue, however, a group of ponies walk in, interrupting your speech. Leading them were Celestia and Luna with their hair blowing in a non-existent breeze. Just behind them was yet another pony with wings and a horn; Cadance, if your memory served you right and Paul wasn’t simply making stuff up. And then, right at the back, were the three ponies who you had dealt with today; Twilight et al, along with what you assumed were her other friends. They all took seats – a particularly bright white pony pulling out a couch from somewhere in a manner similar to a Captcha card. Silence filled the air for a few moments, before it was shattered.

CELESTIA: So.
LIAM: ...Hmm?
CELESTIA: Could you please explain how you got here?
PAUL: Haven’t the first clue. I literally just woke up on the stone outside with Pinkie looming over me.
LIAM: Same deal here, really. I woke up with my legs bent the wrong way hence Twilight carrying me back due to Fluttershy finding me.
LIAM: Cheers for that, by the way.
LUNA: Wouldst thou explain where thoust came from?
LIAM: It’s a heck of a long story. It might ramble on a bit.
LIAM: That alright?
CELESTIA: We all have the time.
LIAM: Alright then.

LIAM: It was a few days ago, linearly speaking. More for me than Paul, due to my time hops. I’d say.. I’m about four days older than I should be. It was the 24th of May, and I had just gotten in from work.
LIAM: My friends and I had what was known as a memo going. We all had been waiting for this day for a while.

CURRENT temporalWierdness [TW] joined trans-timeline memo “Let’s Play!”
CTW: Hey guys.
CTW: What’s up?
PAST wondermentWizard [WW] (0:12 MINUTES) joined trans-timeline memo “Let’s Play!”
PWW: damn man what took you so long
PWW: i mean seriously ive been waiting for like 
PWW: 12 damn hours

PAUL: I should probably note that memos are ‘time-independent.’
???: And what does THAT mean?
TWILIGHT: Rarity! Introduce yourself first!
RARITY: Oh, sorry. I am Rarity, and I am the owner of the Carousel Botique.

As the conversation begins to dissolve due to the interruption, you close your eyes and allow yourself to flit into the feel of Time. Ticking by, ever constant, the beat steady but far beyond you. Of course, while you did that, Paul was busy finishing the talk about the memo. Good job, as well, as you don’t remember much. The excitement and the terror of the Game had pushed that memory from your mind, burying it under layers and layers of a desperate need for survival.

PAUL: Basically, after that whole mess, we managed to get Ramona into the Medium.
APPLEJACK: What the hay is tha Medium?
LIAM: The Medium is the world Sburb – the game we played – takes place in.
PAUL: Nice of you to join us, Liam.
LIAM: Okay, Mr. “Let’s Put My Strife Deck To Pillowkind”.
PAUL: Hey, “Thypeus’ Comfort” was a badass weapon.
CELESTIA: What is a Strife Deck?
LIAM: A Captchalogue Deck allows us to store items in cards and withdraw them at will depending on our Fetch Modus.
LIAM: And before you ask, a Fetch Modus takes a variety of types. Mine is called ‘Array’, and it lets me get any item from any card at any item, provided I can remember what card it’s in.
PAUL: Whereas I use FIFO – First In, First Out.
CELESTIA: That does not answer my question.
LIAM: A Strife Deck is a type of Captcha Deck for Weaponry. We can use any weapon of our specibus – mine is Swordkind, so I can use any type of Sword as a weapon proficiently, as well as dual-wield them.
PAUL: And as Liam was joking about, mine is Pillowkind, so I use pillows.
LIAM: Do we still have those decks, Paul?
PAUL: Yup.
CELESTIA: I see. What was this ‘Sburb’ like? I presume you played it to completion.

You look around at the group, trying to make a decision. Do you explain it all, and be vague as possible? Or do you just tell them the most vivid thing you remember first, and get the embarrassment out of the way?

Screw it, you end up deciding. Might as well relive the worst first.

LIAM: I guess a good way of explaining this to you would be to tell you about our final day within the Medium. Which, actually, was only a few hours ago.

LIAM: Get up from prancing around on Prospit. We aren’t even allowed to dream properly, anymore. Our dreams belong to our Dreamselves, our backup; the more realistic of us would call them our ‘Extra Life’ in case we died, which was always a big possibility. 

Our Dreamselves were a mystery to all of us. We didn’t know why we had them, how we got them, or how we woke them up, but they were there. We had learned about the kiss-revival method from the Lore of the Battlefield. I’d spent ages collecting and saving every book, just in case.

We had been without sleep for days, and tensions were running extremely high. Sleeping woke our dreamselves, which put them in danger. Danger was lurking around every corner, every crevice, every single path. No matter what we did, we were always in danger of imminent death.

We had to stay on our toes. Fight as hard as we could, when we could, and run whenever we had to. Constantly rearm ourselves. 

As I blearily wake up, I realise I’m surrounded by Underlings trying to kill me. Fight them off, as usual. Fight or be killed is pretty much how this goes, and if one of us dies then we are pretty much unable to win. So I fight. Hard. I make short work of them, easily destroying them.

Check in with the others via our only form of communication at this point, Pesterchum. It’s not a fully featured program, but it works. It’s been a day since I saw any other person who wasn’t a game construct in person, if not longer. It’s not like we have a choice – we all have important jobs to do. Andrew was busy working on creating the Ultimate Reward – a universe. One for us to rule as Gods or live in as Mortals, depending on what we wanted.

Today is the final day; after all, the day you go to finally defeat the Black King and finally escape the game is the most important of all days. Once we started this, we had no way of going back. No way of preparing more. And worst of all, we were running out of time. Soon, the meteors that the Black King, after winning the war between Good and Evil had summoned to Skaia and the Battlefield would begin to hit the seed of the Ultimate Reward. We had to go, and we had to go now.

Our planet, Earth, was already destroyed. The reckoning had already thrown meteor after meteor at Skaia, and it was beginning to run out of defensive portals – all portals that led to Earth, of course. Skaia was ready and primed to complete its final and only duty, to be the seed of life for a new universe. The propagation of Reality. The Ultimate Alchemy. Call it what you want, that’s what it did.

We were winning the battle, at first. None of us had used our Dream Self extra lives, and so we were fighting hard. If we died, a simple kiss would bring us back. And so, when we lost Rhia’s Real Self, we weren’t worried. Paul ran over and kissed her; using his status as the Prince of The Land of Frost and Trees to satisfy the ‘must be royalty’ condition. A few long minutes later, her Dream Self rushed back into battle, giving it everything once more.

The problems started when Ramona... died. Permanently. Her Dream Self was impaled, and there was nothing we could do. I used some Time magic to spawn a copy of myself – a doomed copy, destined to die and fall irrespective of what actions he took or how safely he took his life, as he was from a timeline that shouldn’t have occurred – in order to make her comfortable in her final moments. She told us to fight hard, and gave us Heart. We tried to fight as hard as we could. We still fought for our lives, but something changed. We began to lose. Rhia was next to fall, having already been in her dreamself. We had lost two of our friends; our sisters. We were alone.

Even the Horrorterrors decided to lend us their aid. The Noble Circle of Horrorterrors of the Furthest Ring, to be specific. A group of Eldritch creatures, much like the Black King, lent us the Elements of Sburb players far more powerful than we could ever hope to be.

Paul was the first to use them. He found his Space powers absolutely supercharged. Space was no longer under his word and whim; it obeyed his thoughts, conscious or otherwise. The Black King was having an incredibly difficult time hitting us, no matter what attacks it tried or what moves it made. He had become a living God of Space, if you would allow someone to be awarded the title. And the Element of Light he had been lent made his luck skyrocket. Fortune was with him (and myself) and against the Black King. It was a powerful boon. Whispers spoke to him, he told me.

You look over towards Paul at this point. He isn’t crying, but you can tell from the strained look in his eyes and the way he is clenching his hands with nothing to hold that he is having to use all his self-control to prevent himself from doing so. He had always felt it was his ability to stay strong, you remind yourself, and being out of the Game wouldn’t change that.

LIAM: My lent Element was from two players in the same session as Paul’s lenders. I felt the Horrorterrors impossible whispers in my mind; trying to help me, but trying to push me to darkness and insanity. It’s a weird, frightening feeling, having creatures that - as far as the mind of mortals is concerned are impossible - speak to you. My Time ability became supercharged to the point of actually giving me a glimmer of hope. Powerful abilities I couldn’t perform alone, such as my personal favourite “Clockstopper.” It does what the name suggests. And the Element of Breath was given to me, dominion over the Wind. A powerful hurricane, and a steady grounding for Paul and I. We may have been alone by then, but with the Horrorterrors assistance we were not outgunned.

We won, eventually. We had to use our Ultimate Fraymotif – a special technique based on noise and rhythm with specific effects – which was known as “Spacetime Shenanigans”, in its supercharged state, but it worked. A desperate strategy used in a desperate situation. We stood as two alone at the platform, ready to enter our universe. The one we created. We never got the chance. Both of us, exhausted and drained from the battle, passed out, the additional stress of holding Elements we were not born to wield taking more from us than we would expect.

When we awoke, we ended up where you found us. And that is what Sburb was like.

You stop speaking to find you closed your eyes while recounting that, tears forming at the corners of them. It was a powerful memory for you; it had only happened hours ago by your perspective. To be thrown from fighting for your life, being given help from creatures with ulterior motives packed upon ulterior motives, having to try to comprehend the impossible to use this help to being a pony in a planet you didn’t understand was a major change. You open your eyes, looking around at their reactions. Rarity and Fluttershy seem to be in tears; Twilight had a look of concern on her face that was more telling than anything. The Princesses of Light and Dark simply sat, pensive looks adorning their faces. The Princess of Love’s face was wracked with grief, and sympathy. Pinkie was crying, in an exceptionally over the top manner.

CELESTIA: I am terribly sorry to hear that. For anypony to go through that... it must have been terrible.
PAUL: That was the worst day. There was more... but I think I can speak for Liam as well when I say we don’t wish to relive it. Right?
LIAM: ...yeah.
LUNA: I have one question, if I may ask this of thou.
LIAM: Yes?
LUNA: What are the effects of “Spacetime Shenanigans”, as you called it.
LIAM: It turned two desperate fools into one desperate army.
LIAM: I don’t wish to talk about it further, if you don’t mind. I’m fairly sure Paul doesn’t either.
PAUL: ...no. No. I don’t.

The silence was almost palpable. Everyone around you was judging the events, and you had literally no idea what they were thinking. Could it be disgust? Disgust at what predestination forced you to do; even your arrival in Equestria was predestined, after all, and if it wasn’t then this entire branch of reality would be erased – with no clue as to when it will be destroyed. A terrible thing to have to think about under any circumstances, regardless of thoughts on mortality or views on life.

Could it be fear? You ensured you recounted it in as much detail as you could muster without breaking down, and even you have to admit it sounds like you are both incredibly dangerous. But perhaps they got the message you desperately tried to tell them through that. You were sick of fighting. You were sick of desperately clinging to survival by tooth and nail. You just wanted to live somewhere.

You realise with a start that even though this is not the Ultimate Reward you were promised, you might well be happy here. Ruling as a God, while tempting to anyone with a power trip, is not something you would have liked. Glancing at Paul, you see the feeling in his eyes. You know him too well. You can only fight alongside someone for your life before understanding them. He wouldn’t have wanted Godhood, either. Nor would Rhia, or Ramona. 

Elsewhere, in a land far beyond Equestria, beyond any universe, in a long abandoned Game of Sburb; the two surviving players having been taken from its clutches, two dreamselves toss and turn.

One dreamself, an extremely bright golden earth pony, with a moon laying atop a golden gear for a cutie mark.

The other, a truly deep purple Pegasus, with a moon laying atop a purple spiral for its cutie mark.
	
> Liam: Salt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

wondermentWizard [WW] has started pestering temporalWierdness [TW]
TW: Paul
TW: It’s like 10PM
TW: What the everloving hell are you after
WW: man youv got to coe to pikies
WW: you’ve* come* pinkies*
TW: Are you… are you drunk?
TW: I thought we couldn’t GET drunk
WW: nor culd your mom
WW: cold*
WW: could*
TW: Dude you type by a neural link to the headset
TW: The only way you could be making spelling errors is that you were so drunk you were thinking the errors
wondermentWizard [WW] changed their handle to partyPurveyor [PP]
PP: Hiiiiiii~ Liam!
TW: I see you finally chose a handle instead of just turning Pauls pink
TW: Hello Pinkie
PP: Hehe! Paul was trying to invite you one of my parttttiessss~
PP: I think! I asked him if he would~
PP: But he fell asleep :(
TW: He didn’t fall asleep
TW: He passed out
TW: For gods sake Paul you always do that
PP: Anyway where are you! You should be here! :D
PP: It’s a “Two-Week Celebration!”
TW: Why should I?
TW: Pauls the party animal
PP: Twilights here!~
TW: I’ll be there five minutes ago
PP: >:O!
partyPurveyor [PP] has ceased pestering temporalWierdness [TW]

Sitting in one of the quieter corners of Pinkie’s immensely huge party, being held in a nearby barn, you allow yourself to have a small chuckle at Pinkie’s antics. She had never managed to wrap her head around the time mechanics that your powers enabled, especially when it came to hopping backwards. Irrespective, you shake your head, trying to clear the small mental block that always happens when you use your abilities.

It was about 17 hours ago – when Paul received his invite – that you found out that alcohol wasn’t a thing in Equestria. 16 hours, 55 minutes ago, you had become near depressed until about five minutes ago, when Paul revealed that even though alcohol didn’t exist, intoxication definitely did. How he had managed it was important; as you want join him.

In fact, if you had typed a list of your current priorities, getting absolutely hammered would be up there. Just below that would be preventing yourself from doing that to avoid embarrassing drunken shenanigans (often involving female ponies) and professing eternal love for Twilight, mainly because that would be stupid and possibly inaccurate. Your third priority would be getting Paul’s drunken self home. While you would normally let him teleport himself, he’s passed out and as such is a touch incapable.

You sigh, clearing your thoughts. Now you’ve told Pinkie that you were at the party – for five minutes, from her perspective – she was likely on a rampage trying to find you. It was one of her traditions to greet every pony, griffon or otherwise that goes to her parties, and if she doesn’t she responds with a pirouette off the handle. As such, her tackling and greeting of you was imminent. Trying to avoid it was a pointless venture, which you had quickly found out. Even you and Paul working together couldn’t avoid her.

You attempted to form a second coherent thought, but that was interrupted by being blindsided by a hyperactive pink blur, gripping in you in a death hug.

PINKIE: LIAM! :D
LIAM: Pinkie, would you mind getting off of me?

Thankfully, Pinkie was happy to cooperate, giving you a final squeeze before letting you get up to your hooves. You shake yourself, clearing the debris that had stuck itself to you, before taking a look at Pinkie. In a major surprise, she had (to use the common phrase) ‘tarted herself up’, complete with fancy dress, hair restyle and makeup. If you hadn’t known better, she could have passed at a sophisticated, restrained and boring party, if it wasn’t for the fact her dress was covered in sweets of all kinds.

If you were honest with yourself, she looked really good.

PINKIE: I brought you this~! :D

She then – without warning or explanation as to where she retrieved it – held out a cup of what appeared to be punch. Grabbing it carefully, you watch her giggle before running off, presumably to dance more or consume more sugar, whichever she was able to do first.

You look cautiously at the drink she just handed you, having had a few bad experiences with her ‘fire punch’, which made you imitate a dragon. Raising it to your nose, you take a sniff, and after smelling no trace of anything spicy gingerly take a sip. You quickly relax; not only is it just normal punch, but it’s also extremely salty, which begins to dull your nerves after said first sip.

Alcohol, thy name be salt.

Punch Cup #2:

Your mind is a touch duller, your thoughts are slower, and you can just about – after a fashion – still access your most difficult ability, [Handstop]. Salt appears to be a lot more powerful, and a lot faster acting, than any of the alcohol you used to drink, which might go a long way to explain why you are currently using your abilities to fetch Rarity some supplies she needed earlier.

After heading to her boutique – a bit wobbly on your feet – you fetch the box she asked for earlier. Sneaking a peek, you find the box has about six dresses in it. After grabbing hold of the box, you put it on your back, before engaging another temporal warp. Your aim was about five hours; but you end up overshooting by 27 minutes. Making a mental note to be more careful with your powers when intoxicated, you sneak back into the party, making every possible attempt to avoid Pinkie.

As you sneak, you spot the reason as to why Paul was so intoxicated he couldn’t think straight. After watching him down an entire punch bowl in one fell swoop, with some help from Pinkie, you realise with a frown that he truly was totalled. Ignoring him and his disregard for his liver, you trot towards Rarity, carrying a box of dresses.

LIAM: Hey, Rarity.
RARITY: Oh, hello, darling. Paul said you weren’t going to attend. Something about ‘needing your sleep.’
LIAM: Yeah, I don’t actually arrive here until later.

Rarity chuckles, a delicate, light laugh.

RARITY: Having that time power must be so useful. Think of all the things you could do...
LIAM: Anyway, I need you to do something.
RARITY: What is it?
LIAM: In about... three hours, can you ask me to go get you these dresses from your boutique?
RARITY: Of course, Liam, but... why?
LIAM: The explanation would give you a headache; just leave it at ‘timeloops’.

You trail off, your attention having been drawn to Paul and his pitiful attempts to (apparently) hit on Pinkie. Immediately realising how badly this might end for Paul, you decide it is your duty as his friend to step him and bail him out. You gesture to Rarity for a hand, her knowledge of social dynamics quickly leading her to the same conclusion.

Rarity walks towards Pinkie, rapidly involving her in a conversation – something about fancy dresses. At the same time, you walk towards Paul with a sense of purpose in your step, grabbing him with your teeth. (You have learned many years ago that a totalled Paul is impossible to reason with.) You begin to drag him, and he puts up a small effort to resist, but the alcohol in his system is making his legs fail to work properly.

You drag him to a nearby table, where he promptly plonks his head onto the table with a groan. With Paul safely away from Pinkie, you finally warp back to the point of the party you left, your buzz significantly lowered.

You eye up one of the many bowls of punch on the tables, this one labelled as ‘extra strong!~’ in the typical pink handwriting you have learned to associate with Pinkie.

Smiling to yourself, you decide it’s time for another drink.

Punch Cup #6:

You were willing to admit to yourself at this point that you were leaning to the side of ‘smashed.’ Your opinion on salt had changed rapidly, as well, from something to flavour food to the world’s best intoxicant. At some point in your jumbled train of thought, you had been roped into dancing with everypony’s favourite unicorn, who through what appeared to be a combination of drunkenness and bad dancing skills was doing a worse job than you at keeping her hooves straight.

Pinkie had taken to the stage, and was doing her best efforts to belt out a tune that was incredibly familiar – almost like a song you had before the Game. You look around the room, keeping yourself in sync with Twilight’s admittedly haphazard movements, and spot Spike doing his level best to chat up an extremely drunken Rarity. Rarity’s response was to push the somewhat drunk – and you laugh to yourself as you realise that makes no sense – Spike towards a similar coloured but thankfully sobered younger pony, close to his height, in what could only be described as the worst matchmaking attempt after leaving anonymous fanfiction under the doors of the couple-to-match.

Having a personal chuckle at the sight, you turn your attention back to Twilight, who is trying to take the lead. ‘Trying’ was the operative word, as neither of you had any form of skill at dancing. Pinkie, having ceased singing, began running towards you both with more drinks in hoof. Deciding to wow your partner, you finish with a flourish, spinning Twilight by holding her on the hoof, and dipping her salsa style. You manage to pull it off without dropping her, which in your mind increases your cool points by a factor of fifty.

If anything good came out of that, Rarity is looking at you.

Punch Cup #Unknown:

You lost count of the amount of the alcohol-equivalent you had drunk after the time she brought out salt shots. All you can really comprehend right now is that the room is spinning rapidly, you have decided to lay down somewhere comfortable, and that there is a unicorn snuggled up at your side. Before you can take in more details about the situation you are in, you black out, with your final thought being a sense of fear at how terrible your hangover is going to be.