> The Many Sparkle Interpretation
>  by chillbook1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Infinite Twilight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle scribbled on her chalkboard, moving through the equations lightning-quick. Though she was at a bit of a disadvantage when it came to writing, she was on the verge of a breakthrough, and Twilight wasn’t about to let something like a lack of magic stand between her and the greatest scientific discovery of all time.

She had shut her friends out, but they understood, at least at first. Twilight had been laughed out of every university she had ever spoken at when she presented her theory. They understood that Twilight needed this if she was ever going to be given the respect she deserved.  This was more than just a career for her now, more than just an fixation on the unknown. This was an obsession.

“You should take a break, Doc.” Twilight barely processed her assistant’s voice, too busy focusing on the formulas and equations before her. Spike was far from offended by this. He had long been used to Twilight locking herself away, starving and dehydrating herself, until she made some sort of a breakthrough. So it was with measured practice that he cleared off a section of Twilight’s desk and sat down his tray of tea and sandwiches.

“Something’s missing…” muttered Twilight, running a hoof through her mane. “Something’s not quite right…”

“Doc. Please, eat something,” begged Spike. “You’ve been cooped up in here for days now.” Still, Twilight ignored him. “Doctor. Doctor!”

“I’m not a Doctor!” snapped Twilight. “Not anymore! These… These morons! So close-minded! Why can’t they see what I see? It’s so obvious!”

“Of course. I understand, I—”

“Do you understand? Because I really doubt that. How could a small, mindless little dragon possibly understand this?!” Twilight stomped her hooves angrily. “Nopony understands, because they’re all idiots! Brainless, dim, slower than apes!”

Spike watched his friend as she processed the words she had said. Her expression morphed from rage to the most solemn of regret, which let Spike know that he had no reason to be angry with her. She already hated herself more than he could ever make her.

“Spike… I’m sorry. So, so sorry,” said Twilight. “It’s just… The math, the science, it’s all very frustrating. Sometimes, I feel as if the numbers are changing, as if the very fabric of the universe is shifting to evade me.” Twilight shook her head firmly. “But that doesn’t excuse me for my behavior. You deserve better than that. So I sincerely apologize. How can I make it up to you?”

“You really wanna know?” asked Spike. Twilight nodded. “Come eat. Take a break. Go visit your friends. They miss you.”

“Spike… You know I can’t face them. Not after what I said,” sighed Twilight. “Rarity was so angry, she refused to clear the rain around the lab for a month.”

“But she’s over it now. She flew back home to Cloudsdale for a bit and thought things over,” said Spike, pouring Twilight a cup of tea just the way she liked it; Two sugars and a dash of cream. Twilight nodded her appreciation before tearing herself away from her board and taking a seat beside Spike.

“I was so horrible to them,” said Twilight. “I was rude and selfish and disrespectful, and for what? I’ve got nothing to show for it. Nothing but years of regret and wasted time.”

“They’ll forgive you, Twilight,” said Spike. “One trip to Pinkie’s farm, and things will be back to normal.”

“I don’t deserve their forgiveness…”

“No. You don’t. But that doesn’t matter. They’re your friends, and they’ll forgive you whether you like it or not.” Spike passed the tea to Twilight, who took a calming sip. It reminded her of a better time. Before she had become so obsessed with what she called “The Other Frequency”. Before she had given up on friends and love and family. Before she had lost it all.

“Do you really think so?” asked Twilight. 

“For sure.”

Twilight sighed, then grabbed a sandwich from the platter. She had spent her entire life studying the universe, and what may lie beyond it. Years and years of sharpening her mind, learning the mechanics of her reality, understanding everything just to discover something new that invalidates all she knew before, and it was all for nothing. There was no question in Twilight’s mind that she was the greatest earth pony mind in Equestria. Now, for the first time in her life, she doubted how much that mattered.

“Well, Spike,” said Twilight with a sigh. “Maybe it’s about time that I took a sabbatical.”

“That’s good, Twilight,” said Spike with a grin. “Come on, let’s have lunch and go see the girls.”

There was an earsplitting shriek, like the squeaking of rending steel.The air in front of Twilight’s chalkboard began to shimmer and shake, then split into a void of swirling lavender light. Spike and Twilight backed away, mesmerized by the swirling smoke that emanated from it. 

“What in Luna’s name…?” Twilight stared, utterly perplexed. “Spike, get back.”

“What’s going on?” asked Spike.

“There’s no time for that! Get behind me!”

A hoof poked through the void, bringing with it a wave of heat and a gust of air. A unicorn stepped through, wearing an all-black bodysuit and a helmet that obscured their face. It wore a belt around its waist, strapped with several tools and devices the likes of which Twilight had never seen before. It pressed a band around its hoof, and the portal behind it quaked and shook before collapsing onto itself.

“W-w-who are you?” asked Twilight. “Why are you here?”

“Hm. Earth pony,” said the unicorn. Though it was muffled by the helmet, the unicorn’s voice was distinctly female. “Interesting. I didn’t realize there were any of you left.”

“Where did you come from?” asked Twilight. “Who are you?”

“To avoid confusion, you can call me S-169,” said the unicorn. “But it doesn’t much matter.” She pulled her helmet from her head, setting it down next to her. Twilight’s eyes went wide, then a smile spread across her face.

“I was right… Sweet Luna, I was right!” squealed Twilight. “Spike, I was right! I was right!”

“Ugh. Theorist,” sighed S-169 with a shake of the head. “Get a grip of yourself, Sparkle.”

“This is way weird,” said Spike. “You’re… But you can’t be.”

“You’ve kept your Spike. That’s good,” said S-169. “The last three I visited had split up, so I had to chase them down.”

Twilight laughed giddily, running over to her desk and grabbing her papers. She flipped through her calculations. This was what she needed all these years. S-169 could be the breakthrough she needed to get her Ph.D. reinstated, to have her life’s work validated, to make all these years of strife and solitude finally worth it.

“How did you get here? Can you help me work it out?” asked Twilight. “I’ve been struggling to crack it for the longest and there’s something that just won’t fit!”

“Um… Twilight?” said Spike nervously.

Twilight turned, her grin faltering at what she saw. S-169 held a small black orb, about the size of an orange, which she gently rolled forward. S-169 returned her helmet to her head and tapped on the band around her hoof, reopening the portal she had come from.

“Yeah, the charge is armed. I’m headed home now,” said S-169, touching a hoof to her helmet. “This is Dimension R-322, by the way. Mh-hm. Okay. Heading there now. Hang in there.”

“W-wait, what?” Twilight stepped forward cautiously, tapping at the orb S-169 had tossed. It began to glow dark red, letting out a high-pitched shriek.

“Sorry, R-322,” said S-169. 

“What in the world?” Spike approached the orb himself, lifting it up. “What is this thing?”

There was a series of beeps, and then a flash of bright blue light. Spike and Twilight hit the ground with a dull thud, their eyes unblinking. S-169 prodded their fallen bodies, confirming the kill before stepping through her portal, which closed as soon as she was through the threshold. 





Twilight Sparkle scribbled on her chalkboard, moving through the equations lightning-quick. Her magic made scribbling her formulae easy, and truly made her appreciate how difficult it must be for earth pony scientists to get anything done. Once she was done here, she’d have to look into ways to make things easier for them. But that would come later. Currently, she was about to uncover the greatest scientific discovery of all time.

She hadn’t seen her friends in a few days, but they understood. They knew how Twilight could get whenever she had her mind set on something, especially something so important. So, they gave her space, knowing Spike would pry her from her numbers and calculations eventually. But, for now, they would let her have her obsession peacefully.

“You should take a break, Twilight.” Twilight hummed curiously, looking away from her numbers to see her number one assistant waddle into the lab, clutching a tray of tea and sandwiches. She had been far too busy to notice the loud, animalistic growls of her stomach. Spike chuckled, having long since been used to seeing Twilight lock herself away, starving and dehydrating herself until she reached a breakthrough. So it was with a measured practice that he cleared off a section of Twilight’s desk and sat down his tray of tea and sandwiches.

“Hey, Spike. I was just working on this spell,” said Twilight. “I feel like I’m missing something…”

“You are. It’s called lunch,” said Spike. He poured out a cup of tea just the way she liked it; Three sugars and a bit of lemon. Twilight nodded her appreciation before tearing herself away from her board and taking a seat beside Spike. “Come on, Twi, you’ve been cooped up here for two days now. You need food.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right,” said Twilight. She trotted over to her friend and took the cup he offered. She took a sip, sighing happily as the warmth enveloped her body. “I’ve been so focused on this frequency. The math, the science, it’s all very frustrating. Sometimes, I feel as if the numbers are changing, as if the very fabric of the universe is shifting to evade me.”

“That’s probably you going delirious from lack of food and sleep!” said Spike. “How are you gonna keep changing the world if you’re too hungry and tired to think straight?”

“Ah, you’re right. As usual.” Twilight levitated a sandwich from the plate and took a bite. “I think it’s about time I take a little break. I owe Rarity a spa trip, and I may as well make it a group affair.”

“Good. You’re gonna drive yourself crazy cramped in here.”

There was an ear-splitting squeak, like the shrieking of rending steel.The air in front of Twilight’s chalkboard began to shake and shimmer, then split into a void of swirling violet light. Spike and Twilight backed away, mesmerized by the swirling smoke that emanated from it. 

“What in Celestia’s name…” Twilight backed up, spreading one of her wings out to block Spike from any harm that might come through.

To her complete and utter shock, it wasn’t harm that came through the portal, nor was it some unknown horror. What came through the portal was… Twilight Sparkle, except it wasn't quite. Her eyes were bluish and her mane was cut a bit shorter but, save for those small differences, it was like looking into a mirror. The doppelganger wore some sort of band around her hoof, steel with a glowing blue button right in the center, and saddlebags on her back, which she wiggled out of and set on the ground.

“Is this the right place?” asked the newcomer. She looked around, taking survey of the area. “Alicorn Twilight, drake Spike, cluttered lab… Oh, this is a castle, hm? Shame. I miss that old tree…”

“What in the wide, wide world of Equestria!” Spike pushed down on Twilight’s wing to get a better look at… Twilight.

“Ah, Spike. Or, should I say, Spike C-317!” said the new Twilight. “Hello! I’m Twilight Sparkle, though I believe it’s safe to say we’ve met in some capacity.”

“You're… You're me…” said the original Twilight, utterly perplexed. “How is that possible?”

“Technically, I'm not you. I'm me,” said the new Twilight. “And you're you. But we're both Twilight. We're exactly the same, except for where we're different.” She tilted her head slightly. “Does that make sense?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. That means you're a sane one.”

“Twilight, have you been messing with time travel again?” asked Spike. “This is crazy!”

“Ooh, you're on time travel already? Most of us don't get there this soon,” said the new Twilight. She shook her head firmly, bringing herself back to the matters at hand. “Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Twilight Sparkle, from Equestria X-215.”

“Equestria X-215? What does that even mean?” asked the original Twilight. 

“Hm… Those numbers are a bit wrong,” said Twilight X-215, inspecting the board. “You're on the right track, though. I'll help you work it out when we're done.”

“You've cracked the secret of interplanetary teleportation?” asked Twilight. She shook her head. “What am I saying? You just stepped out of a portal, for heaven’s sake!”

“Interplanetary? No wonder you're struggling. That's not going to give you Interplanetary travel. It's going to give you interdimensional travel.”

“Uh… What?” asked Spike. 

“May I?” asked X-215, pointing at the chalkboard. “It’ll be easier to explain with visual aids.”

“Um… Sure?” said Twilight uneasily. X-215 nodded, then grabbed an eraser in her magic. Curiously, her horn glow was a deeper color than Twilight’s. She quickly wiped the board clean, then drew a small circle in the center of the board.

“What did you have for breakfast today?” asked X-215.

“Nothing. I skipped today.”

“Of course.” X-215 wrote “N/A” above the circle. “Did your Spike offer you anything?”

“Eggs and oatmeal.”

“Typical enough. Well, you ate nothing today, but you also ate eggs.” X-215 drew another circle next to the first, labeling it “Eggs”. She then drew one more circle, labeling it as she spoke. “And you also ate oatmeal. And cereal. And soup. And glass.” She drew a circle to coincide with everything she listed, connecting them to the original circle until it resembled a diagram of some sort of solar system. “This is you.” She pointed to the original circle. “This, the eggs circle, is me. Any questions?”

“Several,” said Twilight. “Why do you keep calling him ‘my’ Spike? There’s only one Spike.”

“Wrong. There’s only one Spike here. But I have mine from home. And Oatmeal has one. Cereal has one. Glass has one. It’s one of the only constants,” said X-215. “Where there are Twilights, there are, were, or will be Spikes.”

“I’m… I’m confused…”

“Which is good. I told you, it means you’ve got your head on straight.” X-215 erased the board, starting a new diagram. This time, she worked from left to right, drawing a series of boxes. She started with one, then two, then four, eight, sixteen. “If you understood this straight away, that would mean you’re one of the mad ones. Which, besides being incredibly upsetting, would be a waste of my time, and I don’t exactly have a ton of that to waste.”

“But you have enough to waste on breakfast metaphors?” asked Spike.

“First of all, it’s not a metaphor. Second of all, yes, because I need you to understand.” X-215 pointed to the first box. “This is Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle is about to make a decision; breakfast or no breakfast.” She pointed to the second box. “This is Twilight A. She ate breakfast. The one below her is Twilight A-2. She didn’t. Twilight B had eggs. B-2 had oatmeal. C took an early lunch. C-2 didn’t eat until dinner. And so on and so forth.” X-215 erased this diagram and replaced it with another, this one a massive mess of dots and lines connecting and crossing one another. “This is you.” She pointed to a dot amongst the mess. “This is me.” She pointed to another dot on the other side of the diagram. “Every time you make a decision, you are creating two possible yous; One that did the thing and one that didn’t. Every single possible thing that could happen is happening, has happened, and will be happening. I come from a world that unlocked the technology required to open little doorways between these possibilities. I’m a you from a time you went for a salad instead of a burger at a restaurant four years ago. Or something. Honestly, it’s not that simple, but for the sake of this discussion… Are you absorbing all of this?”

Twilight’s jaw went slack as she tried to take in all of this information. It was insane. The ramblings of a mad mare. Except… the mad mare in question was herself. If Twilight couldn't trust Twilight to tell the truth, who could she trust?

“So… There are how many of these other realities?” asked Twilight. 

“Oh boy, leave it to you to ask the tough questions,” sighed X-215. “Theoretically, there's an infinite number of universes. But, there also have to be universes in which there are only one. We haven't been able to confirm that constancy. But the number of them don't matter. What matters is the number of Twilights.”

“What do you mean?”

“Twilights are dying. Murdered,” said X-215. “And I need your help to stop the killer.”

“K-killer?” said Spike nervously. “Who would do something like that?”

“Me. Her. Us.” X-215 rummaged through her saddlebag, producing two steel bands like the one she wore, one of them resized to be much smaller. “A rogue Twilight. And, while she’s on the loose, none of us are safe. Here, take these and put them on.” Twilight and Spike uneasily took them and slipped them on. 

“Why would a Twilight kill other Twilights?” asked Twilight. 

“We’re not sure. She could be one of those mad ones I was talking about. But that doesn’t matter. Remember those constants I told you about? Well, one of those constants is that all Twilights are clever, determined and, under the right circumstances, dangerous.” X-215 press the button on her band, which projected a panel of light that she punched a few numbers into. “I’m calibrating your Containers now. We’re going to the latest victim to find some clues.”

Twilight glanced at Spike, who she could only imagine to be freaking out. This was a lot to take in for anyone. Twilight was a certifiable genius and even she had issues grasping the concept. She let out a sigh, then walked over to join her counterpart.

“Spike, stay here. It’s too dangerous,” said Twilight.

“Wrong,” said X-215. “The safest place in all of the multiverse for a Spike is right next to his Twilight. If the rogue ends up here, she will take him and use him for leverage to get whatever it is she wants.”

“I b-better go with you, then,” said Spike uneasily.

“Just be careful,” said Twilight. She wasn’t happy with the situation, but there wasn’t much that could be done for it. X-215 needed her help, and, if what she said about the rogue Twilight was true, then everyone was at risk. “Um… Twilight? I’m ready.”

“You can call me Twilight X-215, to avoid confusion,” said X-215. She thought on it for a bit, shaking her head. “That’s a mouthful, isn’t it?”

“How about TX?” suggested Spike.

“I like that. Alrighty, then. Twilight and Spike of C-317,” said TX. “TC, SC. Be prepared. What you see when passing through this portal will be horrific. It will be hard to wrap your head around. But, once you do, the understanding, the knowledge… It’s beautiful.”

TX  stepped through the portal, disappearing through the void. Spike clambered onto Twilight’s back, holding on tightly. Twilight glanced at her board, the diagram of the many realities, with trepidation, then cautiously followed her doppelganger into the portal.
> Investigation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight and Spike stumbled out of the portal, gasping for breath. They assumed, perhaps foolishly, that traveling through realities would be quick and smooth, like a unicorn’s teleportation. They were very much so mistaken. Falling from one universe to another was long, arduous. The very air seemed to be crushing them for an eternity, compacting them for what felt like eons before spitting them out into a strange, new world.

The laboratory Twilight found herself in was not too dissimilar from her own. The chalkboard was in roughly the same position, and the calculations on it were near-identical. But, as Twilight looked more closely, she noticed the difference. Her desk, for instance, was on the left side of the room rather than the right, which would necessitate one to walk across the entire room to get to the board. Twilight recalled when she established her own lab back home and had made the decision of where to put the desk. It had occurred to her that putting the desk further from the board would help prevent her from getting lazy in her seat during calculations, but she decided against it in favor of proximity to her chalkboard. Twilight stared in awe, wondering if it was possible that this world actually came into existence solely because of that one, simple choice.

“Where are we?” asked Twilight. TX closed the portal with a tap of her hoofband, which she called a Container, then turned her attention to a tarp in the middle of the floor, which was covering two masses that Twilight took no pleasure in speculating the nature of.

“This is Equestria R-322,” said TX. “This is where the latest Twilight was killed.”

“Oh man…” said Spike, clutching his stomach. “I think I'm gonna be sick…”

“Jumping between universes is a always rough the first half dozen or so times.” TX tapped at her Container, inputting some sort of data or code. “You'll get used to it.”

“You seem pretty used to it, yourself,” noted Twilight. “This isn't weird to you?”

“I discovered the portal technology a year and a half ago. I’ve spoken to countless other Twilights, each of us sharing our thoughts and discoveries. I’ve heard stories, seen worlds so beautiful that it was hard to go home,” said TX. “I’ve seen realities so horrible that I could barely continue exploring. I’ve learned everything and forgotten even more. I’ve eclipsed the possible knowledge of any singular, mortal pony in any given reality, yet have had my own understanding dwarfed and invalidated by versions of us I could only describe as godly.” TX sighed almost wistfully. “So, in so many words, I’ve become more or less immune to ‘weird’. But I digress. We need to take a look at them.”

“What are we even looking for?” asked Twilight.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have called you,” said TX. “But your world is magic-based, yes?”

“Is yours not?”

“Our worlds are flipped. Our technology outclasses yours by a landslide, but our magic is nowhere near as powerful or ubiquitous as in C-317. So, I was hoping you could use your magic to help me see what I couldn’t find before.”

Twilight nodded, then joined her counterpart at the tarp. A lump formed in her throat as TX grabbed a corner of the tarp between her teeth. Though Twilight was certain she knew what was beneath it, she begged, hoped beyond belief, that she was wrong. TX slowly dragged off the tarp, revealing a hoof, a claw, a muzzle, a tail. Twilight couldn’t avert her eyes, even when she was staring into her own cold, dead, vacant eyes.

She was dead. Twilight knew that she, herself, wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her brain from connecting what she saw before her to her own being. Twilight Sparkle was dead. There she was, her glassy eyes beaming out nothingness for all of eternity. Her mouth was slightly agape, as if she was just about to say something. But she couldn’t, not ever. 

“Sweet Celestia…” Twilight took a step back, her heart pounding in her throat. 
“That’s… That’s us…” said Spike, unable to tear his eyes away from the corpses. 

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” said TX. “But try to remember that they aren’t you. This is Doctor Twilight Sparkle. An earth pony quantum physicist. You’re an alicorn princess. This is R-322. You are C-317.”

“But we’re both Twilight,” said Twilight, a touch of anger in her voice. “That’s me right there. And you. How can you be okay with this?”

“You think I’m okay with ponies getting murdered just because I’m not having an existential crisis? I told you, I’ve seen this before. I’m used to it. That doesn’t make it any less terrible.”

“What could you have possibly seen that could desensitize you to your own corpse?” Twilight ran a hoof through her mane. “Don’t you get it? She’s dead! You’re dead! That doesn’t freak you out a little? What have you seen to make this not shocking? I think I could use something like that.”

“Equestria G-269. This reality was still in what you’d call medieval times. Their Twilight was a scientist, and a brilliant one,” said TX. “I visited her and helped her bring technology to her people. I returned a few days later to find her burning at the stake for the crime of witchcraft. Equestria T-222, a village that was ransacked by bandits. I found their Twilight’s head on a pike. Twilight C-420, bank robber/homicidal maniac. Betrayed and killed by her Spike.” TX tilted her head, staring blankly at Twilight. “That one is rather close to you. Only 103 worlds from yours. That’s a few meters in the grand scheme of the multiverse. That was very nearly you. But you’re not a bank robber, are you?”

“N-no!”

“No plans to go out on a murder spree?”

“Of course not. I’m just—”

“What about you, Spike C-317,” said TX. “Are you intending to kill your Twilight? Kill her in cold blood?” Spike’s eyes went wide. He silently shook his head, more than a bit taken aback by TX’s tone. “Of course not. Because you’re not Spike C-420. You’re Spike C-317. And you’re Twlight C-317. Not T-222, killed by a horde of savages.Not G-269, executed for her intelligence. Not C-420, killed by the person she trusts most, and not R-322, dead on her lab floor. So, if you don’t mind, I need to find the one who did this before more Twilights die. Get a grip of yourself, Sparkle. Lives are at stake.”

Twilight looked as if she had been slapped across the face. None of this was processing in her brain correctly. Even though TX had explained that there are infinite possibilities, Twilight never really considered that some of them might be terrible. She took in a deep breath through her nose, letting it out through her mouth.

“Alright,” said Twilight. “What do we do?”

“Do you have some sort of autopsy spell?” asked TX. “I haven't been able to pinpoint precisely what killed them.”

Twilight nodded, then lit up her horn. She swirled her magic through her body, forcing it out of her horn in the form of a thin, panning beam of violet light. The beam passed over the cadavers several times before finally giving Twilight a cause of death.

“Brain hemorrhage. Probably from an aneurysm,” said Twilight. “Are we sure this is a murder? It looks like natural causes to me.”

“Tell me, how many instances of simultaneous double aneurysms between two beings of different age, size, diet, and species are you familiar with?” asked TX dryly.

“In my defense, you just told me that there are an infinite number of universes with an infinite number of possibilities,” countered Twilight. “So, theoretically, there's at least one universe in which a Twilight and a Spike did simultaneously have aneurysms, despite the sheer odds and other factors influencing their health.”

“Touché, TC. Now you're getting it.”

“Twi, I think you're getting too used to this,” said Spike. 

“Ah, she's just a quick learner. Most of us are,” said TX. “Which is why I don't doubt that she can figure out the next step.”

Twilight looked around the room, trying to decide on the best course of action. Where this any other murder, she'd probably go around town and ask if anypony saw anything strange, but she discarded this idea rather quickly. She couldn't exactly explain to the townsfolk that their resident earth pony doctor had become an alicorn and was investigating her own murder. So, barring interviewing potential witnesses, the best thing to do was to find who had been there recently.

“How long has it been?” asked Twilight. “Since Twilight R-322… passed on.”

“It's been six hours in R-322’s time,” said TX. 

Twilight nodded, then cast another spell. The room was bathed in purple light, flooding the entire laboratory for several moments. When it faded, there were three silhouettes comprised of purple light. Two of them were the deceased Twilight and Spike of R-322, while the other, standing a few feet away, was a unicorn with some sort of helmet.

“Impressive,” said TX with a nod. “And this is the actual murder, correct?”

“Yes. No sound, though, so we can't tell if they said anything,” said Twilight. “Spike, you may want to look away.”

“No way. I wanna help,” said Spike. 

“You sure?”

“Positive. I think I can take it.”

Twilight nodded slightly, then commenced the spell. The silhouettes began moving; Twilight R-322 backed up slightly, blocking her Spike from view with her body. The unicorn removed its helmet, revealing itself to be Twilight. Twilight R-322 excitedly hurried over to her desk, while the Rogue Twilight removed something from her belt and rolled it forward. Spike R-322 lifted it up and, just as soon as his Twilight turned around, they both hit the ground, dead. The Rogue prodded each of their bodies with a hoof, then stepped forward and vanished.

“That looks like Z dimension gear...” said TX. “I haven’t been to a Z dimension in a while.”

“You can tell just by looking?” asked Spike.

“I can make an educated guess. Wait here, please.” TX opened up a portal with her Container. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t leave us here!” said Twilight. “What if the rogue Twilight comes back? We don’t know how to use these things! We’ll be trapped!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in five minutes. I just need to grab some gear from my place,” said TX. She smiled reassuringly. “I promise, I’ll be right back. Everything will be okay.”

Leaving no more room for argument, TX leapt through the portal, collapsing it shut behind herself. Twilight groaned in annoyance, then dropped to her flank tiredly. She just wanted this to end. Spike sat next to her, resting his head on her shoulder as he stared at his own lifeless body.

“At least they went out together,” said Spike.

“Hm?” Twilight stopped her worrying for a moment, turning her attention to her friend. 

“These guys. Spike and Twilight R-322.” Spike closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. “They didn’t die alone. At least they had each other. Til the end.”

“I don’t think they knew that,” said Twilight. “I don’t think they realized what was happening.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still. It’s nice to know that one of them isn’t missing the other,” said Spike. It got quiet for a spell, both Twilight and Spike trying to absorb the full gravity of the situation they found themselves in. “I think that’s nice. I hope we can have something like that.”

“I don’t want to think about that, Spike. Nothing is going to happen to us now,” said Twilight. “We’re going to find this rogue me and then everything will be fine.”

“Okay. I shouldn't be worrying. We can do this,” said Spike. “We've been through a lot. This is just another hurdle to jump over. Right?”

“Exactly. Nothing can stop us.” Twilight grinned, hugging Spike tightly. “Not even me.” Twilight grabbed the tarp in her magic and used it to cover the bodies of the R-322 Twilight and Spike. Her gaze rose from their bodies up to the chalkboard. “Her calculations were different than mine, which makes sense. She was an earth pony, after all. Her formulae was for a machine, not magic.”

“But you two were working on the same thing?” asked Spike. “The thing you thought was for transplanetary teleportation?”

“It looks like it. Except… Maybe she knew what she was looking for.” Twilight stood up, taking a closer look at the board. “Look. She keeps mentioning this ‘Other Frequency’. What's the first frequency?”

“You think it was her world? R-322?”

“I do. So that means The Other Frequency was likely another reality, like ours,” said Twilight with a curious hum. “She was close… And maybe that's what made her a target…”

There was a shriek, like splitting metal, as another portal opened in the center of the room. A large metal box spilled out, at least the size of Twilight, hitting the ground with a dull thud. The box was followed by a very tired, disheveled looking TX, who closed the portal as soon as she was through. 

“See? Told you I'd be back,” huffed TX. “Just had to fetch some stuff from the lab.”

“What is that?” asked Spike. TX grinned widely, tapping the side of the box with her Container. The box split open at the top, revealing a console of buttons, screens, antennae, and scanners.

“The lab,” said TX. “Impressive, eh?”

“Very. That must've been difficult without magic,” said Twilight. “What do you intend to do with that?”

“Well, like I said, our Rogue Twilight seems to be using gear from one of the Z dimensions,” said TX. “Z dimension Twilights use very particular tech with a very particular energy signature. I need to know which dimension in particular Rouge Twilight originates from. My mobile lab will help me trace the energy through the multiverse and back to the source. We've got our first lead!”

“Excellent! Well, what are you waiting for?” said Twilight, clapping her hooves giddily. “Trace the signature!”

“One moment…” TX brought her Container up to the mobile lab, booting up the machinery. She tapped in the necessary numbers, her eyes scanning the screens for the location of her target.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” said Twilight. “Maybe Rogue Twilight attacked R-322 because she was about to crack the secrets of interdimensional travel.”

“And Rogue wants to horde the power herself. She can’t be stopped if she’s the only one with the technology,” said TX with a nod. “Plus, she could ally herself with the versions of us that align with her viewpoints. She’d be a god.”

“So we stop her now.”

“And we’ll be stopping her in…” The mini-lab dinged loudly, drawing TX’s attention to a screen in the corner. “Equestria Z-544. Oh.” Her grin faltered, falling into a concerned frown. “This is a bad one.”

“B-bad?” asked Spike nervously. “Bad how?”

“I was hoping I'd get to show you some of the beauty of the multiverse. All of the realities we could've been directed to, and we get this one," said TX with a sigh. "TC, SC, get ready. We get to explore a universe more horrific than your worst night terrors." She grinned suddenly, opening up the portal. "Isn't it exciting?"
> Equestria Z-544
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The first thing that Twilight noticed about Equestria Z-544 was the air. There was a stale, putrid stench to the air. Death and decay floated throughout the town square that they found themselves in. Twilight and Spike gagged on the very air, while TX merely just crinkled her nose slightly.

“Ooh, you never quite get used to that smell,” said TX. “Oh boy, this place looks worse than when I was last here. Not that it was a vacation destination before, mind you.”

“What happened?” asked Twilight. She looked around at the square; the few buildings that remained were crumbling, the windows boarded or the doors completely torn off. It looked as if the entire town had been ransacked. “Where are we?”

“Ponyville,” said Spike, pointing off in the distance. “Look.” Twilight directed her attention to where Spike had pointed, her eyes going a bit wide. A massive tree stood overlooking much of the town, devoid of all leaves and life. It was shrivelled and rotting, but was unmistakable, even in its derelict state.

“Oh my god… That’s the library,” said Twilight. “That’s Golden Oak Library. What happened to it?”

“What happened to yours?” asked TX.

“It was destroyed by a magic-sucking goat demon named Tirek.”

“Well, that’s not what happened to this one, I can assure you.” TX glanced over her shoulder, surveying the area cautiously. “We should head there now. We don’t wanna get caught out here.”

“Caught by what?” asked Twilight. 

“Twilight Z-544 was something of a mad scientist,” explained TX. “And not particularly good at her job. She started the apocalypse. And we need to get to safety before we die.”

TX led the way through town and to Golden Oak Library, the short jaunt eerily quiet. Ponyville C-317, despite being referred to as a quaint and quiet village, was normally bustling with life. This world’s Ponyville was hauntingly silent. It made Twilight’s skin crawl. It filled her with dread, terror, uncertainty. 

TX tried the door of the library, just to find it locked. She tapped it with her hoof to test the sturdiness of the wood then turned and kicked it in. The door splintered around the lock and lazily swung open.

“I feel you judging me C-317,” said TX. “And I'd like to remind you that you can't trespass on your own property.”

“This isn't your property,” noted Twilight. “It's Twilight Z-544’s.”

“But the lease doesn't say ‘Z-544’. The lease says ‘Twilight Sparkle’. That's me. And if I want to break down my own door, even if it’s me from a different dimension, I feel like I’m within my rights to do so.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be getting to safety?” asked Spike. “Come on, you two, let’s go!”

“After you, TX,” said Twilight cautiously. TX nodded, then crossed the threshold of the library. Twilight and Spike followed closely behind her, keeping their eyes peeled for whatever threats that inhabited this world.

The circular room that Twilight had, in her reality, once called home was in a state of disarray that she would never allow. The shelves that lined the wall were falling apart, and mostly bare of all books that used to sit in the room. Twilight surveyed the area with a horrified awe, this visit to her home making her truly miss the tree as it was in all of its glory.

“I doubt she’s here right now,” said TX. “But, if we head upstairs, we might be able to find out where she’s been and, more importantly, where she’s going next.”

“So what exactly happened here?” asked Twilight, following TX up the stairs.

“I don’t know all the details, but, from what I can tell, Z-544 got herself a God complex,” explained TX. “She became obsessed with immortality, and she reasoned that the best way to go about that would be to create life. And she did, to her credit. Changelings live much longer than ponies, so she took some changeling DNA, spliced it with a pony corpse, and charged it with a ton of magic, then scraped the resulting DNA into a petri dish, which she grew into a full pony in her lab. But… There were complications. The new lifeforms started off normal, but they kinda devolved into something kinda… Ponenberg-esque, I’d say.”

“And the townsfolk?” asked Spike. “Did they evacuate?”

“Some of them. Maybe. I wouldn’t be too hopeful for that, though.”

Twilight shook her head, perplexed at how any version of her could possibly be that careless. If Z-544 would’ve done any research at all, she would’ve known that changeling DNA was dangerously unstable, and it didn’t react well to pony magic. This could have easily been avoided if Z-544 just showed some restraint, thought things through, and ran her numbers more carefully.

“That was reckless,” murmured Twilight as they reached the clearing. Compared to the bedroom, the downstairs area was pristine and orderly. The bed had been turned up and leaned against the wall, with a mess of what appeared to be Z-544’s research notes. The windows were boarded up, and the floor near the closet was covered in blood and some unidentifiable green goo.

“Gah! What smells?” asked Spike, pinching his nose.

“This whole dimension,” said TX. “That’s what happens when death fills the streets.” TX looked around the room, murmuring quietly to herself. “She doesn’t have any of her equipment about…”

“Hey, TX,” said Spike. “If Z-544 is the Rogue Twilight, and she can jump from dimension to dimension, how come she doesn’t just move to a dimension where she didn’t mess up the whole world?”

“It could be a few things. Maybe she has somepony here she doesn’t want to leave behind,” suggested TX. “Or maybe she’s just obsessed with solving the problem she caused. I know I’d be.”

“But she could just go to a Twilight smarter than her to get some help.”

“The problem with your reasoning, Spike, is that it makes the assumption that Twilight Z-544 is a logical mare, and we’ve already established that not to be the case.” TX poked through the papers littering the floor, finding more evidence that Twilight Z-544 was a bit off her rocker. Her numbers and calculations were fairly accurate, but they had mad scribbles in the margins. The more recent the notes, the less stable she seemed to be. “TC, start looking around what’s left of her books. They might give us some clues as to where she went off to.”

Twilight nodded, hovering over the few dozen books that still remained in the room. Had the library still been in operating condition, she’d have triple that amount to look through, perhaps even more. The pages Twilight skimmed were annotated much like the research notes, the messages growing wilder and less sensible the further she went.

“Seriously, what the heck is that smell?” demanded Spike. “Are you guys seriously not smelling this? Blegh! It’s in my mouth!”

“Dragons have a better sense of smell than us ponies due to the way your tongues pick up particles in the air,” said Twilight. “Your sense of smell has always been more sensitive than ours.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever regretted that more than I do now,” said Spike, sniffing the air. “It smells like it’s coming from the closet…” While the Twilights searched through the documentation, Spike followed his nose to what he perceived to be the source of the smell and pulled the door open.

Something heavy fell out of the closet and onto Spike, knocking him to the ground with a clumsy “oof”. He tried to push the thing off of him, but it was a bit too heavy for him, whatever it was. It was cold, clammy, and brought with it an intensely rancid odor. Some thick, sticky liquid dripped onto his face, bringing a heavy, metallic smell with it. 

Twilight Sparkle Z-544 had a small hole in her head, from between the eyes and tunneling all the way out of the back of the skull. Spike panicked, squealing in fear and trying to squirm out from beneath the weight of the corpse. Twilight quickly turned and lifted Z-544 off of him, then dropped her to the ground beside Spike. He scurried backwards, raking the blood from his eyes to get a better look. Z-544 was missing her right ear, which seemed to have been gnawed off. Her eyes were wide open, devoid of all life. Her skin was beginning to decay, peeling away around her mouth to reveal the rotten, greying flesh hidden away beneath.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Spike clutched his chest, the air in his lungs exiting and entering his body in short, sharp breaths. “She’s dead!”

“Damn it!” TX rushed over to Z-544, pushing her body onto her back. “It wasn’t her…”

“What happened to her?” asked Twilight, unable to tear her eyes away from her own corpse. “What could make a wound like that?”

“Some sort of laser or plasma weapon,” said TX. “Damn it, I was certain this was her… The Rogue must’ve killed her and taken her tech…”

“Oh man, this is seriously messed up…” Spike collected himself, standing up and doing his best to stop trembling. “If… If she’s not the Rogue… Then how do we find her?”

“We need to find out what the Rogue wants,” said TX. “Then, we can head her off. I say we keep searching for clues, then head back to R-322 and do some research.”

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna check downstairs,” said Spike. “Might be some good clues. And… That smell… I’ll be back…”

And, with that, Spike all but stumbled down the stairs, leaving Twilight alone with TX. Twilight watched her other self carefully, a feeling of unshakable suspicion clinging to her being. She wasn’t sure why, but something about TX just didn’t sit right. Whether it was the uncanny feeling of conversing with herself, or the fact that TX seemed to know more than she did that made Twilight uncomfortable, she wasn’t certain. All she knew for sure was that she didn’t like the idea of being alone with herself.

“You don’t trust me,” said TX, inspecting Z-544’s body a bit closer. “I can sense your tension.”

“No disrespect intended but, no. I don’t,” said Twilight. “You’re clearly insane.”

“Perhaps. But, if I’m crazy, we need new words for Z-544.” TX prodded the body one last time, then, having gleamed all she could from that rudimentary examination, returned to her notes. “I might be a bit eccentric to you, but at least I never started the apocalypse, or went on a killing spree of my fellow selves.” Silence descended, a silence that caught TX’s attention. She looked away from her notes to face Twilight. “Wait, you don’t really think I had anything to do with this, do you?”

“I don’t know what to think. You haven’t exactly been super clear with me. And you effectively kidnapped me to help you solve a murder that, for all I know, can’t be solved.”

“I did not kidnap you,” said TX. “I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“You gave me no options, which is effectively the same thing. I didn’t want to do this! I’m not a detective, I’m not some inter-dimensional superhero, and I’m not ready for this!”

“No, but what you are is a Twilight. And Twilights do what needs to be done for the benefit of the majority,” said TX. “Even if what needs to be done brings us displeasure. I don’t go patrolling the multiverse and meeting with the others because it’s fun or glamorous. I do it because it needs to be done. Because there are Twilights that could use our help.” TX tapped her Container, which displayed a large map of the many realities on the floor. “I’ve made friends with countless of these realities’ Twilights. I’ve helped them, and they’ve helped me. And if you think that I’d do anything to hurt anypony, especially our other selves, then you are delusional.”

“Then be upfront with me. Why me? Of all the other Twilights, of the ones you already knew, why’d you pick me?” demanded Twilight. “Why did you make me endanger Spike? Why do you seem to be enjoying this?”

“I’m not! Why would I possible be enjoying this?”

“Your voice says one thing while your actions say another. We find out that Z-544 is dead and you don’t really seem to care!”

“I value all life, but forgive me if I have less sympathy for the death of an unethical, selfish maniac who brought about the deaths of countless ponies in her reality!” TX found herself, for the first time since meeting Twilight, becoming properly angry. She thought they had wasted enough time on explanations, and now she had to defend herself from these baseless accusations. “You know that Celestia and Luna are dead here, right? Cadance and Shining and Flurry, too. Your friends? Nopony knows for sure. Z-544 thought they died. But she didn’t care. She thinks they got what they deserved, for doubting her. She’s killed so many ponies, and she was happy about that. So, no, I don’t particularly care that this poor shell of a Twilight is dead, because Z-544 represents Twilights at our worst. But just because I’m glad she’s gone does not mean that I killed her.”

“She may be the worst parts of us, but she’s still us,” countered Twilight. “And you should feel a bit of compassion.”

“TC, you’re thinking too small,” said TX with a sigh. “There are so many of us that caring about all of them equally is impossible. That’s not our job. Our job is to eliminate the threat and return things to normal. If I wanted to kill some Twilights, the last thing I would do is bring a Twilight along to help me track the killer.”

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense,” admitted Twilight. “That would be pretty stupid of you. Sorry. I just… I don’t know what to do. I’ve battled my fair-share of bad guys but never myself.”

“I understand. Just try to remember that I’m on your side.” 

“T-twilight? I n-need some h-help down here!”

Twilight glanced to TX nervously, who seemed not to have even noticed Spike’s voice. Realizing that she was alone in this endeavor, Twilight set down the books she was inspecting and headed downstairs.

“Spike, are you okay?” asked Twilight, descending the staircase. “Is everything… alright?”

Spike stood stock-still, terrified to move. A pink earth pony held a knife to his throat, her scowl growing as Twilight made herself visible. She had no mane, and her right eye was covered with a dirty, bloody rag. The one eye that was visible was was a faint baby blue, and had a tired dullness to it. Her face was marred with dirt and scars, and there was what appeared to be an acid burn splattered across the right side of her face. Twilight stared, transfixed. She was entirely unrecognizable, but she looked strangely familiar.

“Finally, you show back up, you crazy bitch,” she said. Twilight’s eyes immediately went wide, the voice instantly recognizable. Twilight heard that voice nearly every day. She had just spoken to her the day before in her own reality.

“P-pinkie?” Twilight couldn’t believe what she was seeing. What could have happened to her? She looked so battered and beaten, like she had just emerged from a warzone.

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Sparkle,” said Pinkie Z-544. “Move and the dragon dies.”

“Don’t hurt him,” said Twilight. “What happened to you? You—”

“Shut up. If I hear that horn light up, I’ll slit his throat. I swear to god, I’ll do it.” Spike whimpered as he felt the knife press tighter against his throat. “I can’t believe you stuck around. The others thought you ran away with your tail between your legs when those damn abominations got too wild for you. But you stayed. I gotta thank you for that.”

“Pinkie, I’m not… I’m not who you think I am. I’m not your Twilight,” said Twilight. “I’m from another… This isn’t making sense. Let Spike go and I’ll explain everything.”

“I’ll let Spike go. I’ll let him go when you come with me,” said Pinkie. “Do exactly what I say and nopony gets hurt.”

“What do you want?” asked Twilight. Pinkie beckoned with her knife for Twilight to come with her, following behind her out of the library.

“You made this problem, and now you’re gonna solve it.”
> Negotiations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight moved forward, keeping her eyes ahead as per the instructions of her captor. She listened intently for Spike, not daring to step out of line for fear of her friend’s life. She wasn’t entirely sure where they were headed, but, if Z-544 was anything like her own universe, they were nearing the Everfree Forest.

“Pinkie, you’re making a mistake,” said Twilight.

“My only mistake was not stopping you when I had the chance,” spat Pinkie. “Now shut up and keep going.”

“Twilight…” whimpered Spike. Pinkie had bound his arms in rope and sat him atop her back for travel.

“You too, little man. Cram it.”

Twilight glanced down at the Container on her hoof, cursing TX for not instructing her on how to use it. Now, she was trapped, alone in a strange, hostile reality. Twilight tried to keep a level head, knowing that rational thinking was the only way to go. She decided that the best thing to do was listen to Pinkie Z-544, at least until she could clear things up.

As they neared the edge of the Everfree, Fluttershy’s cottage came into view. It was in a similar state of disrepair as the rest of the town, yet in a much more intentional way; the windows were boarded, but also spiked, with long wooden and steel spears jutting out. The wasn’t abandoned like quite like the library. It seemed to have been deserted, then returned to and fortified.

“Inside,” ordered Pinkie. Twilight obeyed, quickly trotting over to the door, Pinkie directly behind her. She pushed it open and stepped inside what was supposed to the warm, welcoming environment of Fluttershy’s home. But, much like with most things in Equestria Z-544, Twilight’s expectations of warmth and joy were shattered.

The living room was trashed, the sofa turned over on its side and sofa stuffing spilling out all across the floor. There were burns in spots on the floor, but none like Twilight had ever seen. It seemed like some sort of acid markings, much similar to the burn across Pinkie’s face. It was startling to see Fluttershy’s cottage in such a state. Twilight couldn’t count how many times Fluttershy had invited her over for tea and a chat in this little front room. This place barely resembled the room that Twilight remembered. 

“Upstairs.” Pinkie’s harsh, unflinching tone was incredibly concerning to Twilight. She never could’ve imagined Pinkie speaking like this. She shook her head, then ascended the stairs. No point in thinking about that now. For the time being, Twilight had to focus on getting her and Spike to safety.

The bedroom was much more like the one in C-314 than the downstairs area. Twilight reasoned that Pinkie had went out of her way to keep the room neat and orderly. The floor was clear, save for a small burn here and there. In the middle of the room was Fluttershy’s bed, a large mass huddled beneath a sheet lying atop it. The mass moved faintly, rising up and down slowly near the center. Pinkie pushed past Twilight, taking care to keep Spike right where he sat.

“Come over here,” said Pinkie. She stood to the side of the bed, where Twilight soon joined her. “Fix her.”

“What do you mean?” asked Twilight nervously. “Fix who?” Pinkie’s lip twitched, but she managed to keep her anger contained, then grabbed the sheet and pulled it down.

What lay beneath was almost unidentifiable as a pony. Almost the entirety of its face was melted away, revealing rotten, graying flesh. Its eyes were covered in bloody rags, not unlike Pinkie’s right one. It breathed heavy, labored breaths, causing the few bits of its skin that remained to rise and fall to rhythm. Several tiny spikes, easily a dozen and none more than three inches in length, protruded from its neck, dripping some unknown, foul green liquid onto her chest. Its whole body looked like melting wax, with an unnatural sheen from strange, sticky fluids.

“W-what…?” Twilight was breathless, almost unable to form words. “What is… Who?”

“P-pinkie…?” It gasped, its voice low and gravelly, but distinguishably female. It was soft, faint, nearly a whisper. “You’re… back…”

“I told you I’d be right back, Shy,” said Pinkie, her voice softening a bit. “Don’t try to speak. We’re gonna get you fixed up.”

“That’s Fluttershy?” asked Spike. “What happened to her?”

“She happened,” hissed Pinkie, pointing to Twilight. “Fix her now.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean. I can’t fix her,” said Twilight, watching Fluttershy in horror. “I don’t even know what happened to her.”

“Your damn monsters infected her! Whatever juice you pumped into those freaks of yours started to spread, and now she’s turning into one of them. But you’re gonna fix her. Now.”

“I’m so sorry, but… I can’t. I didn’t do this.” Twilight backed away, shaking her head. “I know this is going to sound weird, but I'm not your Twilight. I come from another Equestria. I had nothing to do with this.”

“If she dies, or turns into one of those things…” Pinkie grabbed Twilight and pushed her nearer the bed. “Fix her right now.”

“Pinkie, I swear, I can't. I didn't do this!” Twilight tried to think of a way to explain things. “I'm not from here. I come from another dimension. Your Twilight is dead. I'm not the one who did this.”

“Fix her. Now.” Pinkie grabbed Spike from her back and pressed her knife against his throat. “Or your dragon dies.”

“T-twilight… Do something!” begged Spike. Twilight’s mind was racing. Time was running out. Twilight quickly glanced at Fluttershy, then Spike, then let out a tired sigh.

“Alright, fine!” said Twilight. “I'll… I'll see what I can do.” She approached the bed, preparing herself mentally for the examination. She pulled the sheet down all the way, and immediately regretted it. Fluttershy seemed to get worse the further down Twilight looked. Her middle was riddled with holes, some of them with spindly black spines protruding. The craters that didn’t have spikes oozed a horrid smelling green liquid. Her bones were distinctly visible through her thin, frail skin. Her left hindhoof was entirely absent from just above the fetlock down. It was a clean cut, as if amputated.

“H-how long has she been like this?” asked Twilight. “The leg? The infection?”

“She lost the leg three years ago,” said Pinkie. “That's when we bunkered down here. She didn't get sick until about six months ago. The holes and spikes are from four months. The goo is a new thing. Maybe a week and a half. How long until you can fix her?”

“Er… I'm not certain. I need a more detailed analysis.” Twilight pressed the button on her Container, bringing up the holographic keyboard. She had no idea how the device worked, nor did she fully understand the possible repercussions of using such technology without the necessary knowledge, but she was backed against a wall. She typed in the code “Z-544”, hoping that would do something. The Container beeped loudly, but had no other results.

“What was that?” demanded Pinkie. “You better not be trying anything funny, Sparkle.”

“No, no, nothing funny!” promised Twilight. “Just… Just doing a medical scan. You might hear a few more of those, nothing to worry about.”

“It better not be…”

“Pinkie? Could you maybe loosen these ropes?” asked Spike. “They’re really tight.”

“That’s the idea. But, don’t worry. As soon as your friend cures my friend, you’ll be free to go,” said Pinkie. “You know, I really should’ve killed you on sight. Both of you. I would’ve become a legend if I went back under with Twilight Sparkle’s head on a pike.”

“Back under?” Twilight typed as she spoke, this time entering in the code “X-215”, with similarly underwhelming results.

“We live underground. Your monsters don’t really like it down there. Too echoey,” said Pinkie. “Their echolocation or sonar or whatever doesn’t work. Bounces too much. That’s where the survivors are.”

“Except you,” noted Spike.

“Fluttershy couldn’t make it down there. I can’t leave her behind.”

Things got quiet as Twilight stewed. There simply had to call for help. She didn’t want to risk any magic; Pinkie had made it very clear that she would hurt Spike if Twilight so much lit her horn. Her only option was her Container, which she still didn’t understand in any facet.

“Are the others…” Twilight felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about what might’ve happened to them. Even though this reality was not her own, she still felt bad for her friends. “Did they make it?”

“What do you care?” snapped Pinkie. “You didn’t care when you were destroying the world.”

“Pinkie, I’m sorry,” said Twilight. “I know you don’t believe me. Why would you? But I am genuinely sorry that this happened to you. Nopony deserves this, least of all you. You're the brightest, nicest, most pure-hearted pony I know. You don't deserve this.”

Silence descended onto the room. Pinkie’s glare didn't waver, but Twilight noticed something new beneath the rage. Seh noticed intrigue and curiosity and, most importantly, doubt. 

“AJ didn't make it. Said she wanted to stay on the farm. She was born there, she said she wanted to die there,” said Pinkie. “Rainbow… She could've made it. Most pegasi did. All she had to do was fly up to Cloudsdale. She's too loyal. Now, it's too late. Lost a wing. And Rarity… Nopony knows for sure. She thought the underground was getting too crowded. She took Sweetie and left for some place else to defend. Three weeks later, Sweetie shows back up here. Didn't speak to anyone. Didn't explain anything. Just bunkered down and cried.”

“Oh my god…” Twilight couldn't look Pinkie in the eye. All this death and destruction, caused by her. Even if it wasn't her per say, Twilight couldn't help but feel responsible. And she was going to leave it all behind to return to her own cush, perfect reality while this one burned and rotted.

“Yeah. Now shut up and fix her,” said Pinkie. Twilight had almost forgotten what she was meant to be doing. She looked back to her Container, straining her brain to come up with something, anything that could help her. If only she would’ve been the one to make the Container. She’d have put measures in place to prevent this from happening.

A lightbulb went off. It was so simple. She didn’t have to wish that she was the one who made it, because, in a sense, she was the one who made. It. She quickly typed in a single word. Recall.

There was an earsplitting shriek, the sound of reality itself being split. A portal formed directly next to Twilight, bringing with it TX, who quickly closed the portal behind herself.

“Where’d you…” TX trailed off as she surveyed the room, from Fluttershy to Pinkie. Pinkie quickly pulled Spike in front of her, pressing her knife against his throat.

“Stay where you are!” ordered Pinkie. “I’ll kill him!”

TX seemed to freeze for just a moment, her usually confident and knowing smile gone. Twilight began to panic; if TX could look at her own corpse and not so much as flinch, something that had her looking like this must have had terrible implications.

“Yikes. Pinkie Z-544.” And, just like that, she was back to normal. “You look like you’ve seen better days. Fluttershy’s not looking any better. That's not surprising. She never did well in apocalypse settings. Shame.”

“There’s two of you?! How?!”

“As I’m sure my friend told you, she’s from a different universe. I’m sure you didn’t believe her,” said TX, crossing the room. “Drop the knife.”

“Take another step and the dragon dies!” said Pinkie.

“Cool. Kill him, then.”

“What are you doing?!” demanded Twilight. She grabbed TX in her magic, keeping her in place. “She’s going to kill him!”

“Of course she is, but who cares? Did you forget about the infinite other realities?” asked TX. “Give me ten minutes, I’ll find a Spike from a near-identical reality to C-317 who has no Twilight. He’d be happy to have you, and you’d never even notice the difference.”

“Are you insane?!”

“You're the one screaming over what is effectively a non-issue,” scoffed TX. “What do you care if this one dies? He's replaceable!” She shook free, then turned to Pinkie. “So kill him so I can kill you and we can go about our business.”

“You’re bluffing,” said Pinkie. She tightened her grip on Spike, brought her knife closer. “She’s bluffing, right, little man?”

“She's bluffing,” said Spike, almost paralyzed by fear. “Don’t actually hurt me. She's bluffing!”

“I'm not bluffing,” said TX. “You wanna play the odds, Pinkie?” Twilight grabbed her in a stronger spell and brought TX to her, staring her in the eyes.

“Don’t do it!” Twilight held onto to TX tightly, refusing to let her go. “I swear, TX, if anything happens to him, I will make you regret it!”

“Your view is too small. He's insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That sentimentality will do nothing but hold you back,” said TX. “Basic economics dictates that things that are common aren't valuable. There's an infinite number of Spikes, therefore, this one is practically worthless.”

“He means something to me, damn it!”

“TC, close your eyes and think. Close your eyes.” TX winked. “Close your eyes, think this through, and, most importantly, trust me.”

Twilight had no reason to trust TX, none at all. She was a mad mare, no two ways about it. But Twilight was low on options. She couldn't save Spike, not by herself. Her only choice was to put her blind trust into her counterpart. Twilight looked to Spike, who silently begged her to save him, then let out a sigh. She closed her eyes. A flash rang through the air, like a camera going off. Screams soon followed it, then the sound of a body hitting the floor. Pinkie shouted in pain, as did Spike.

“You can open your eyes now, TC.” Twilight did as she was told. Spike and Pinkie were both laid out on the floor, clutching at their eyes. TX stood over Pinkie, pinning her to the ground. “Can you make some sort of binds? She’s stronger than she looks.”

“S-sure.” Twilight lit up her horn and quickly fabricated a length of rope from nothing. TX grabbed it and quickly tied Pinkie’s hooves together, pushing her onto her back with her hoof.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” demanded Pinkie. “Damn it, I can't see!”

“Yeah, a flashbang will do that to you,” said TX. “Your vision will be back soon. Oh, and sorry, Spike. I know you caught an eyeful of that, too.”

“It's okay. It's not so bad,” said Spike. He rubbed his eyes, then blinked repeatedly. “I can sorta see a little. It's blurry.”

“Dragons have thicker lenses than ponies, so you’ll be recovering faster than Pinkie.” TX grinned with satisfaction. “Come on over to TC, she was worried sick.”

“You were bluffing?” asked Twilight. Spike ran across the room, jumping into Twilight’s hooves. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m fine. Just… Give me a minute to come back from that,” sighed Spike.

“Were you scared?” Twilight couldn’t help but smile at Spike’s nervous jittering.

“M-me? Scared? Don’t be crazy!”

“To answer your question, yes,” said TX. “I was bluffing. Of course I was. Did you hear the lunacy that came out of my mouth? Even ignoring sentimentality, replacing Spike would be difficult on a logistical level. There’s infinite realities, so for every one that has an available Spike, there’s countless more without one.”

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” asked Twilight.

“Not without blowing my cover. Good job on not blowing my head off, by the way.” TX brought up her Container’s interface and began inputting codes. “I do admit, that was a concern of mine.”

“How did you know Pinkie wouldn’t hurt him?” asked Twilight.

“If Pinkie really intended to hurt either of you, she would’ve stabbed you long before I got here,” said TX. “Besides, she was distracted. Trying to figure out where I came from.” She opened a portal besides them, glancing around for a bit. “It’s a shame we didn’t get anything from here. We’ll have to start from scratch. Let’s go back to R-322, see if the mobile lab has any useful data.”

“What about her?” asked Spike. He pointed at Pinkie, who kicked and thrashed helplessly in her bindings. “Let’s take her with us. Fluttershy, too. Maybe we can help them if we go back home.”

“No can do. I only own three Containers; mine, TC’s, and yours,” said TX with a shake of the head.

“So what?” asked Twilight. “They don’t need to open a portal.” Again, TX shook her head solemnly.

“Containers are a vital part to interdimensional travel. They’re tuned to your particular frequency, and keep your atoms from flying out through the fabric of reality,” explained TX. “They act as containers to keep you in place. That’s where the name comes from. If you tried to jump without one, any number of things could happen. You might end up in a reality on the opposite end of the multiverse. You might end up on the other side with all of your guts outside of you. You might reform on the other side with your molecules spread so far apart that you instantaneously liquify. Or you can fall through exactly where you wanted with no adverse effects.” TX chuckled darkly. “You wanna risk it?”

“Can’t you make more?” asked Spike.

“They’re powered by an element that doesn’t exist in most realities. It’s exceedingly rare. Besides… If we tried to put Fluttershy through the portal, in her state… We’d kill her.” Pinkie’s eye darted to TX, shooting her a savage glare. She squirmed and thrashed, trying to fight her way out of her ropes.

“Don’t hurt her! Don’t you dare hurt her!” shouted Pinkie. “She’s all I have left, damn it! If you’re gonna kill me, then do it! But you leave her alone!”

“Pinkie, calm down,” said Twilight. “Nopony is going to hurt her!”

“I won’t let you touch her! Get back!” As Pinkie thrashed, blindly, she inadvertently neared the portal that TX had opened. “Leave her alone!”

“Pinkie, be careful!”

“Don’t touch her!”

Pinkie made one last bold, sightless jump, and tumbled over. Before either Twilight could react, she rolled into the rip in reality, swallowed up by the multiverse. 

“Pinkie!” Twilight ran to the portal, as if she could peer through and spot Pinkie before she fell too deep. “She's… She's gone…”

“She might be okay,” said TX faintly. “Like I said, there's a chance she emerged unscathed.”

“But that didn't happen.” Twilight’s voice was dead, devoid of energy or warmth. “Did it?”

TX grimaced at the grim response. She couldn't exactly blame her other self. She wasn't nearly as experienced. This whole thing could be quite overwhelming. 

“No,” said TX. “Probably not.” She glanced back to the bed, where what remained of Fluttershy lay. “Don't worry about Fluttershy. I'll come back with some equipment and deliver her to the survivors underground. They probably won't fix her, but… it's better than leaving her here to die.”

“Thank you,” said Twilight. “At least she'll make it. That's all Pinkie wanted, right?”

“This is heavy…” muttered Spike.

“Let's pop over to R-332, grab the mobile lab, and then we can drop you off at home,” said TX. “I think you could use a rest, and you've gotta explain things to your friends. I can keep looking and come back for you once I have a lead.”

“Sure,” said Twilight. This was getting to be too much for her. A nice rest would do her wonders. Right then, she wanted nothing more than to see her friends. Pinkie and Fluttershy C-317. Not these twisted, rotting, bastardized iterations of them.

“Well, then,” said TX with a sigh. “After you.”

Twilight stooped down so that Spike could clamber onto her back. When he was secure, the two stepped through the portal, with TX following just behind them.

TX nearly tripped on her way out over some metal box that lay at her hooves. Judging by Twilight’s ginger rubbing of her leg, there was no “nearly” in her particular situation. TX scooped up the box, turning it over cautiously. On one face of the box was a lens of some sort. There face opposite the lens had the words “CALL ME” in scarlet letters. TX brought it near her Container, which hummed acceptingly. 

“It's compatible with the Container,” said TX, closing the portal they had come from. “Where did it come from?”

“I'm not sure,” said Twilight. “It was just sitting there. What do we do with it?”

“Well, in my experience, mystery gifts like this with no origin shouldn't be opened, especially not while in the middle of an interdimensional chase for a murderer.”

“So we ditch the box?” asked Spike.

“Oh, Spike, where's your sense of adventure?” said TX with a grin. “Besides, in my past experience, I didn't have a mobile lab like this and two partners to help me out. Let's see what the cube has to say.”

TX crossed the room, grinning at her mobile lab. She configured the machine’s settings, which opened a compartment about the size and shape of the cube. She slipped it into the socket and tapped a few keys on her Container. The cube whirred to life, then beamed an image into the air.

The head of a unicorn looked back at them, the black helmet immediately giving her away as the Rogue. Both Twilight and TX stared, transfixed, as the Rogue slowly removed her helmet to show her face. She was a mirror image of Twilight, save for her mane, which was slightly darker and had no pink streak. TX tilted her head, her mouth slightly agape.

“Impossible,” she muttered. “But you’re… No!”

“Hello, X-215,” said the Rogue. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“No! You’re dead! I watched you die!” TX tapped at her Container in an attempt to trace the signal throughout the multiverse. She knew that was a longshot, but it was her only option. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

“I didn’t take to it, I’m afraid,” said the Rogue, chuckling slightly. “Glad to see nothing has changed. You’re still incredibly rude. Haven’t even introduced me to your friend.”

“I’m Twilight C-317,” said Twilight stiffly. “And I don’t think you’ve introduced yourself, either.”

“Frankly, who I am and where I’m from are irrelevant, seeing as you’re either going to be off the case or in a bodybag in a few minutes,” said the Rogue. “But, if you must call me something… I am Twilight Sparkle of Equestria S-169.”

“And you’re killing Twilights. Why?” demanded Twilight. S-169 just laughed at her, shaking her head like a teacher disappointed in their student.

“Ah, you still have a lot to learn,” chuckled S-169. “Why would you agree to help TX when you don’t know the reason you’re here?”

“You’re killing ponies. You’re killing me. What more reason do I need to stop you?”

“I pity you, C-317. You’ve been dealt a bad hand in a game you don’t even know how to play. X-215 has set you up for failure on a tremendous scale. My advice to you is to get out while you can.”

“And she’s supposed to just listen to you? Why?” asked Spike. “Because you have our best interests at heart?”

S-169 seemed very taken aback. No response came to her immediately. She simply stared at Spike for a few moments before reality came crashing back to her.

“C-317 is one of the better iterations of our possible lives,” said S-169. “So far, you’ve overcome every potentially world-ending event that has come your way. All of your friends are still around, and you even managed to get yourself a magic student. It’s more or less perfect. If you leave X-215 now, I will spare you and your world. This isn’t about you, C-317. Stay out of it.”

“You must know that I can’t do that,” said Twilight. “As long as you’re on the loose, I have to chase you.” Twilight stomped her hoof firmly, unwavering in her conviction. As much as she distrusted TX, and as many questions as she had, it was immensely clear that S-169 was the problem that needed to be solved.

“Shame. I’m going to have to kill you now. I suggest you return home, in any case,” sighed S-169. She returned her helmet to her head. “I’m sure it’ll be some small comfort if you and your friends are all together when you die.”

“Don’t you dare hurt them!” ordered Twilight. “Why are you doing this? What do you gain.”

“Ask your friend. As a matter of fact, there’s a few things you should ask her,” said S-169. “How do I know her? Why am I meant to be dead? Why doesn’t she follow her own advice? Not that it matters. Answers will do you a fat lot of good when you’re dead. I wish I could say I look forward to it, but that isn’t the case. Goodbye, C-317. And X-215?” S-169 chuckled superiorly. “If you thought your shoddy firewalls would be strong enough to repel the communicator’s virus, you’re dead wrong.”

“What?” demanded TX. “Virus? What are you—”

“And that’s your whole database, thanks,” said S-169. “Your map is more complete than mine, that’ll make my job far easier. See you around.”

The video disconnected, leaving the room completely silent. TX rushed to the mobile lab, tapping at the dead keys in a futile attempt to revive the machine. When nothing happened, she kicked it firmly and swore, then opened up a portal with her Container.

“We gotta go back,” said Spike. “The girls… Maybe all of Equestria… They’re in danger.”

“Very true, but, in this case, returning to help will only insure that you all die together,” said TX. “Through the portal, quickly. I’m going to do everything in my power to save your reality.”

“If we’re not going to my dimension,” said Twilight. “Where are we going?” TX grunted angrily, pushing the useless brick of metal that used to be her lab through the portal. She let out an exerted sigh before looking up to face Twilight with an air of intensity and determination she didn’t possess before.

“Mine.”
> Equestria X-215
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight, Spike and TX tumbled through the portal, their hooves touching down on hard, cold steel. TX immediately left Twilight and Spike behind, running through the room while they got their bearings. Twilight peered around, her mouth slightly agape. If this was TX’s home, she couldn’t wait to see the rest of X-215.

They appeared to be on a catwalk of sorts, a balcony that wrapped itself around pulsating beam of glowing green light that shot from the bottom of the structure all the way up and out the opened ceiling. There were monitors and computer interfaces lining the catwalk, and a flight of stairs leading downwards. TX was already halfway down the stairs, and Twilight had to break into a quick jog to catch up.

“What’re we doing here?” asked Twilight.

“Not right now, please, I’m about to break at least three different laws of interdimensional travel,” said TX. “I’d like to do so without being bombarded by questions. Keep up, TC, we don’t have time to spare.”

Twilight kept up pace with TX, following her down into a large, circular room. Near the base of the green beam was a metal well of sorts, which had countless buttons, switches, and levers on its surface. Several doors dotted the wall, some open and leading to dark corridors and some closed and mysterious. TX rushed to the center console and immediately began tapping away.

“Girls!” shouted TX. “I need you! Now! Code Gold!”

The sounds of hooves on steel tapped into the room, two mares coming along to coincide with the noise. To Twilight’s surprise, the girls to which TX had called wasn’t any of her fellow Element bearers. That said, she most assuredly recognized them.

“What is it, Twilight Snarkle?” demanded Starlight Glimmer, clearly uninterested in the situation. “Starlight Glimmer was preparing to take a nap!”

“Shut up, Glimmer, this is important,” said TX. “Hurry up! Get to your station!”

“What do you plan to do?” asked Trixie. “Are you sure about—”

“Not now, please, Trixie. Station. Now!”

Trixie nodded, then ran around the console and took position a bit to TX’s right. Starlight did the same on the other side, the both of them tapping at buttons and pulling switches much like TX did.

“What can I do?” asked Twilight.

“You can sit where you are and keep quiet,” said TX, not even looking at Twilight. “We’re about to do something incredibly dangerous and I need everyone involved to know what they’re doing.”

“What are you doing, Snarkle?” asked Starlight. “Starlight is a very busy—”

“Trixie, tell your friend to shut up,” ordered TX.

“Starlight, we need to focus,” said Trixie. “Is the receiver tuned on your end?”

“Is it tuned? Of course it’s tuned! Starlight is the—”

“Glimmer, I will send you to the sun! You’re off by point-oh-oh-three-nine degrees! Fix it, now!” shouted TX. The floor began to tremble and shake, like the rumblings of a small earthquake. “Increase the opening by a factor of nine.”

“Nine? Twilight, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” asked Trixie.

“It’s on the other end of the multiverse, and I’d rather not take any chances. The Table is just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.” TX flipped a lever down and snarled at one of the screens in front of her. “Damn it, Starlight, spread the opening! Now!”

“Fine! Fine! Starlight is increasing the opening by a factor of six,” said Starlight.

“Nine! Factor of nine!”

“That’s what Starlight said!”

The room trembled again, this time enough to cause Twilight to stumble and fall. TX was laser focused on her console, calibrating and tuning her tower with the help of her two friends. Twilight simply watched in awe; Trixie and Starlight of X-215 were very different than Twilight could have ever been prepared for.

“Brace yourself!” called TX. “Tier 4 tremor incoming!”

The ground beneath them shook with such intensity that Twilight feared that the planet would split in half. Spike held onto Twilight for dear life, as if afraid that letting go would spell the end for them both.

“Glimmer, Trixie, at the ready!” TX grabbed a key in the console, as did Starlight and Trixie.

“Ready!” reported Trixie.

“Starlight has been waiting for you,” said Starlight with a yawn. 

“And turn in three! Two! One!”

The three mares turned their keys simultaneously. The shaking stopped, the light vanished, and the room went deathly silent. Then, in an explosion of light and sound, everything returned in full force. The tower’s light shifted from green to gold, boring a hole through the very sky. Twilight could barely keep her head on straight from the intense quaking tremors, which slowed to an eventual stop. TX panted, staring at a screen on the console. A green wavelength danced across the screen, jagged as lightning. She watched tensely for a few moments until the wavelength stabilized, eventually plateauing entirely.

“And we’re stable,” sighed TX. “Good job, girls. Yes, Starlight, even you.”

“Of course Starlight did a good job! She is the greatest quantum physicist this or any reality has ever seen!” declared Starlight.

“Wow,” said Spike with a roll of the eyes. “Who does she sound like?”

“I never thought I’d prefer the crazy cult leader persona,” muttered Twilight.

“Trixie, get them settled in,” said TX. “I've got to go calm the townsfolk. They're going to have questions. Answer what you can, but try not to overwhelm them.”

TX and Trixie shared a glance for a moment before Trixie nodded her agreement. TX sighed tiredly, then ran out through one of the doors of the tower.

“So, you guys hungry?” asked Trixie. “Starlight was just about to make lunch.”

“Starlight was about to do no such thing!” exclaimed Starlight. “Starlight is no short-order cook!”

“But Starlight is the inventor of the greatest hayburger recipe in the multiverse,” said Trixie with a small smirk. “It would be a shame, nay, a travesty if these two never got to taste one.”

“Hm… It seems that Starlight’s genius is finally rubbing off on you. One of the perks of being best friends with the greatest mare to ever live!” Starlight briskly trotted for a door across from the exit TX took. “Report to the dining room and prepare to have your taste buds blown clean off your tongue!”

“Sometimes, all it takes is a little flattery,” said Trixie with a chuckle. “Come on. It's just through here.”

Twilight could barely function enough to follow Trixie through the door, down the hall, and into the dining area. She and Spike sat down almost mechanically, as if their brains had left and their bodies were on autopilot.

“You seem kinda shell-shocked,” said Trixie. “Being in a whole new world can be a bit overwhelming.”

“It's not the world so much,” said Spike, staring at Trixie as if she had sprouted a second head. “It's the ponies in it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Trixie, were you a stage magician in the past?” asked Twilight. 

“No… That was Starlight’s thing,” said Trixie curiously. “Well, I did help her with a manticore trick, so I guess I was a stagehoof or something. That's sort of like a magician.”

“What about a cult?” asked Spike. “Did Starlight ever steal all of the Cutie Marks from a village in the middle of nowhere?”

“Er… No. That was…” Trixie shrank down slightly, her face bright red from blush. “That was me.”

“This is the weirdest thing we've seen so far,” said Spike.

“Agreed.” Twilight put a hoof to her head, feeling the start of a migraine come along. “This is uncanny…”

“What do you mean? Do you have a me in your reality that's different?” asked Trixie. 

“Where we come from, your past and mannerisms are switched with Starlight’s,” said Twilight. “You’re the rude megalomaniac. Where I come from, you’re my rival. Or you think you’re my rival. Or my archnemesis or something.”

“Sounds like Starlight, for sure. Half of time we’re supposed to be running calculations, Starlight is trying to one-up Twilight,” said Trixie with a nod. “Uh… My Twilight. From here. Where are you guys from again?”

“C-317.”

“Ooh, a magic one! You’ve gotta tell me about it! There’s not a lot of magic here. I can hardly do any.”

“Actually, Trixie, I’ve got some questions for you first, if you don’t mind,” said Twilight. Trixie nodded. “What exactly did you just do?”

“We took energy from another reality and beamed it all at yours,” said Trixie.

“Why would we do that?” asked Spike.

“Well, I don’t actually know. Twilight just told us to do it, so we did. It would make your reality invisible if somepony was trying to find it, but I don’t know why she’d need that done. I’m sure she’ll explain herself soon enough.”

“We’re sorta on the run from a Twilight-killer,” said Spike. “From S-169, I think is what they said.” Trixie’s face paled considerably, her expression displaying fear and confusion in equal measure.

“Y-you must be mistaken,” she said. “S-169? That must be wrong.”

“No, that’s right. TX had the same reaction,” said Twilight. “She said that Twilight S-169 should be dead. Can you tell me why?”

“Er… I don’t know all the details. Twilight hasn’t told us everything, and it’s not really my business,” said Trixie. “Anything I could tell you would be conjecture and speculation, and a violation of Twilight’s privacy. She should be the one to tell you.”

Twilight frowned. That was not a very satisfactory response. She needed more information in order to feel at ease. Still, she could understand Trixie’s unwillingness to part with her friend’s secrets. She knew that, were roles reversed and in her own reality, her Starlight would do much the same.

“Alright, well, explain the mechanics of that,” said Twilight. “How does bombarding my reality with energy make it invisible?”

“Well, we can’t physically observe other multiverses because there’s no light in the spaces between them, so we have to rely on energy outputs. By showering your reality with energy from another, they cancel each other out and it looks, to the Containers, like empty space.”

“Fascinating. You seem to know a lot about how the realities work. How long have you studied them?”

“Seven years. The last four have been with Twilight. I learned more in those four years than I ever could’ve learned alone,” said Trixie. “Starlight is newer to things, only about four years of study in total. She’s a quick learner, though. She studies really hard.”

“Is somepony talking about Starlight?” Starlight Glimmer came through the door, pushing a cart that held a platter stacked with burgers for them to consume. “Her ears are burning.”

“I was just telling them about how hard you work,” said Trixie. “And how well you understand the multiverse.”

“Oh, but of course! Starlight excels at everything she attempts!” declared Starlight. “Which is why it is positively perplexing why Twilight Snarkle refuses to take her out on her adventures across the multiverse! Starlight could be so helpful! One week of travelling with me and I guarantee that Snarkle would have the entire multiverse mapped and catalogued.”

Trixie chuckled, then rose from her seat to serve the food. She slid a plate to Twilight and Spike before laying out one for Starlight and finally herself. Again, Twilight and Spike were baffled; Seeing Trixie doing anything for anypony other than herself was so strange to them.

“How’d you two come across this reality’s Twilight?” asked Twilight. “I met my Trixie when she brought her travelling magic show to Ponyville and I fought my Starlight because of the whole cult thing.”

“Pretty much the same here, just switch the names,” said Trixie. “That’s ancient history, though. We barely even resemble our past selves. Heck, I don’t even know if Starlight knows any card tricks anymore.”

“Ha! I’ll have you know, the Grand and Mighty Starlight can do far more than mere card tricks!” declared Starlight. “For Starlight is the most mystical, magical pony to ever live!”

Spike nudged Twilight with her elbow, a mischievous grin wide on his face. He didn’t need to speak to communicate his idea to Twilight, who understood and agreed with a silent nod and a matching smirk. She lit up her horn, wrapping all four plates in her purple glow. With a flash and a pop, they vanished, only to reappear in a stack on top of Starlight’s head. She teleported them back to their original position, then, more to show off than anything, changed them all blue, then turned them to apples, and finally returned them to their original form.

“Starlight doesn’t like this game anymore…” Starlight all but sobbed as she buried her face in a burger. Twilight, Spike, and Trixie all shared a laugh at Starlight’s expense, removing a layer of tension that had bogged the two down ever since arrived in Z-544. As the laughter died out, Twilight noticed something odd. In her reality, if she had decided to make the ground quake beneath their hooves for one reason or another, she wouldn’t be able to just sit down and eat a burger. In her reality, she’d be answering the questions of five ponies who would be there to help in any way they could.

“Hey, where are the others?” asked Twilight. Trixie stopped her laughing and tilted her head in confusion.

“Others?” she said, clearly confused. “Other what?”

“You know, my other friends. Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack, Rainbow. Where are they?”

Trixie glanced nervously at Starlight, who seemed equally concerned. For a few moments, nopony said anything. Then, when it became clear that she would be receiving no help, Trixie stepped up to the plate.

“Did… Did our Twilight explain to you how Constancy works?” asked Trixie.

“Sort of. Why?”

“Well… Certain events, ponies, places, and concepts just seem to exist in some capacity, no matter the reality in question. We call them Constants. They emit a very particular sort of energy that isn’t found anywhere else in the multiverse. You and Spike are Constants, but Starlight and I aren’t. The others… Well, there are things that we can’t prove or disprove the constancy of.”

“Like my friends,” said Twilight, unable to imagine life without the others. “So… They just don’t exist in your reality?”

“Something like that. If you want specifics, I suggest you ask Twilight.”

This time, Twilight was a bit less understanding. This wasn’t Trixie protecting her friend’s privacy. This was her dodging a question, and that was something that annoyed Twilight to no end. She was about to press Trixie for more information when she was interrupted by the sound of reality splitting. A shimmering portal ripped open next to Trixie, which spat out the one mare Twilight wanted to talk to more than anyone at the moment. TX closed the portal behind herself, clearly worse for wear. Twilight couldn’t even bring herself to begin interrogating TX at the moment, for fear of making her condition worse. She was nearly hyperventilating, cold sweat dripping from her brow.

“Are you okay?” asked Trixie. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I wish it was a ghost. TC,  we’ve got a train to catch,” said TX shakily. “Trixie, Starlight, keep an eye on Spike and monitor the Tower. Make sure C-317 stays invisible. If you need to send more energy, open up a portal to a dead reality. We probably won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?” asked Twilight. TX sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

“Canterlot Castle. We’ve been summoned.” TX smiled weakly. “You get to see my version of Celestia. Let's go see the Queen.”
> The Citadel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight couldn’t believe just how different X-215 was from her own reality.

Ponyville C-317 was a small, quaint little village, while its X-215 counterpart was a bonafide metropolis, full of massive skyscrapers. The city shined with light and energy, even in the dead of night as was the case when Twilight and TX left for Canterlot. Twilight was amazed at the technological advances that X-215 had made; the street lanterns of Ponyville C-317 had been replaced by bright, blue fluorescent lamps. Overhead, initially startling the C-317 transplants, large crafts flew overhead (TX referred to them as interplanetary cruisers, likening them to the skychariots that Twilight had known). Even the trains were different: The coal-powered Equestria Express was absent, stood in by a sleek, electric “bullet train”, which TX assured would bring them to Canterlot in a matter of minutes rather than hours.

Twilight barely had time to marvel in this strange version of her home before the train arrived in Canterlot. The capital of Equestria was even more advanced than Ponyville, a feat Twilight didn’t know was possible. The streets were filled with large metal carriages, powered by some internal mechanisms as opposed to a pony physically pulling it along its way. TX didn’t allow Twilight time to ask any questions, all of her attention focused on the journey to Canterlot Castle.

The Castle itself barely resembled its namesake. It looked less like a castle and more like an industrial complex or scientific facility. It consisted of a large, dome-shaped building which TX said was called the Citadel. Surrounding the Citadel stood six massive spires, each taller than any building Twilight had ever seen. TX began to tremble slightly as they neared the Citadel, which Twilight found more than a bit concerning.

“Is everything okay?” asked Twilight.

“Let me do the talking,” said TX, ignoring the question. “Queen Celestia won’t be very happy with me, but I’ve talked my way out of trouble with her before.”

“You don’t seem to be as friendly with your Celestia as I am with mine,” noted Twilight. TX chuckled hysterically, shaking her head at the very notion.

She led the way to the Citadel, explaining the situation to the guards standing outside of the main doors. Curiously, the guards seemed unarmed, save for their hooves, which appeared to be covered in some sort of metal armor or gauntlets. After a moment of conversing, TX offered her hoof to the nearest guard. To Twilight’s shock, a section of the guard’s leg split open, scanning TX with a quick beam of light. It beeped affirmatively before closing, at which point the guard stepped aside to let them in. 

The interior of the Citadel was sleek, pristine, and labyrinthian. There were so many doors and turns in the hall, Twilight knew that she would find herself lost immediately, were she alone. Luckily, TX knew the way and was able to direct her through the Citadel’s halls. Soon enough, they reached two massive, glistening platinum doors. TX took in a deep breath before pushing open the doors and stepping into the room.

The two Twilights journeyed across the massive throne room, past lines of a dozen or more stoic, unwavering guards. TX stopped before the throne, with Twilight doing much the same, and the two bowed before the looming shadow of the Queen of Equestria.

Celestia looked much the same in this reality, with a few stark differences. Her mane was one solid color, the green that would be accompanied by several others in C-317. Her expression was stony, cold, calculating. She carried with her an aura that the Celestia of Twilight’s home didn’t possess.

“Guards,” said Celestia, her cold voice was soft, yet carried the force of a shout. “Leave us at once.” The guards immediately filed out of the room, leaving the two dimension hoppers alone with the Queen. “Speak.”

“We are honored to be in the presence of her Royal Highness, the Queen of Canterlot, the Lady of the Sun, Our Eternal Light, Her Majesty, Queen Celestia,” said TX. “We hope to be of some use to Her Majesty, who shines upon our lives with her beauty and her grace, we—”

“Enough. Do not grovel, Sparkle, it’s unbecoming.” Celestia rose from her throne, which made TX flinch. Queen Celestia was noticeably taller than her C-317, which made Twilight exceedingly nervous. “Explain to me why I should not have you imprisoned for treason.”

“T-treason?” stammered TX, visibly paling. “With respect, my Queen, I’m n-no traitor.”

“I hardly believe that to be for you to decide. If I recall, I allowed you to go on your little adventures, so long as they did not affect my kingdom.” Celestia stepped down from her throne, approaching the two. “The spare’s very being here illustrates that they are affecting my kingdom. This means you’ve disobeyed me, and that is grounds for imprisonment.”

“Y-yes, of course, however… These were extenuating circumstances. I couldn’t leave Twilight C-317. She’s helping me search for a… an off-model Twilight Sparkle.” TX looked up, immediately regretting her decision to meet eyes with her Queen. “A rogue, of sorts. She’s killing other versions of us, and if I let C-317, the Rogue would surely kill her and possibly even destroy her reality.”

“And how does that concern me?” asked Celestia. 

“Er… Well, this Rogue isn’t killing her fellows for fun. She has a goal in mind, and that goal does not bode well for the rest of the multiverse.” TX paused for a moment, her legs still trembling. “The Rogue is from Equestria S-169.”

Celestia stomped her hoof, causing the entirety of the throne room to tremble. Sparking, golden light shrouded her horn, nearly as heart-stopping as the fury in her eyes. TX bowed her head in surrender, bracing herself for what was to come. 

“I was under the impression that she was dead!” barked Celestia, the light around her horn growing bright, hotter, more intense.

“Frankly, my Queen… So was I.”

Celestia fired a crackling jet of golden light from her horn. Twilight leapt in front of the blast, raising a wall of shimmering lavender light. 

“That’s enough,” huffed Twilight. “Respectfully, your highness, I think you should calm down.”

“What are you doing?!” hissed TX. “You’re going to get me banished!”

“Another magic-user? And one powerful enough to oppose me?” Celestia tilted her head curiously, as if Twilight was a girl in her mother’s clothing. Not something to be taken seriously. “Who are you, who dares oppose the Queen of Equestria?”

“I apologize for her behavior, my Queen,” said TX quickly. “She knows not your power or your stature, for, in her world, she knows you as but a princess. Please, do not punish her for—”

“If I wanted to hear from you, I would have asked,” said Celestia, silencing TX at once. “I want to hear from her. It would do you well not to speak out of turn again, Sparkle.” TX bowed her head again, holding her tongue for the time being.

“I meant no disrespect, your majesty,” said Twilight. “But I could not stand idly by while you hurt my friend. And, while I respect your desire to protect your kingdom… Well, I have a similar duty to my own kingdom. Twilight S-169 is a threat to my world and yours. The smart thing to do would be to work together to stop her.”

“If you believe things to be so simple, you are almost as dangerously incompetent as my own Twilight Sparkle,” said Celestia scathingly. TX seemed to shrink down at that, but said nothing to defend herself. “Simply put, Twilight Sparkle, you are a threat to my people. S-169 has only qualms with Twilight Sparkle, so I will remove Twilight Sparkle from the equation. Twilight Sparkle, you are guilty of endangering the Kingdom of Equestria and posing a threat to the Queen’s rule. The sentence for these crimes is banishment.”

“My Q-queen!” TX sputtered in shock, looking up with fear and desperation. “B-b-but this is my home! All of my research, my data… Everything I have!”

“You should have considered that before you made my kingdom a target.” Celestia returned to her throne, her horn still sparking with magic. “Leave at once. You may return when S-169 has been neutralized. With proof, this time.”

“Y-yes, your grace.” TX tapped her Container, opening a rip in reality. “Thank you for this opportunity to redeem myself.”

“If you return empty-hooved, I will not be so merciful,” said Celestia. “And magic-user. Do not show yourself in my kingdom ever again. I will allow you leave to deal with this threat, but, in any other circumstance, I would have you executed on the spot.”

Twilight’s blood ran cold in her veins. Even in her irrational, unfounded, hysterical paranoid spirals she’d had regarding upsetting Celestia, she never even considered that she might be executed for her transgressions. 

“TX… I’m so sorry,” said Twilight. “I didn’t know that—”

“Don’t worry about it. I would’ve gotten myself banished eventually, with or without you,” sighed TX. “Through the portal, TC. We’ve got to grab some things, then find a new lead.”

Twilight met eyes with the cold, harsh queen, feeling a chill down her spine. She shuddered slightly, then stepped through the portal, hoping that she would never have to meet with this Celestia ever again.