Reset
What do you see when you close your eyes? More specifically, what do you see in that deepest of living sleep as the comparatively slow Delta waves manifest themselves throughout the brain’s cortices? You see nothing. You hear nothing. You think nothing. The brain recharges as the body remains in homeostasis.
Normally, the deep sleep does not last long, being part of a cycle that inevitably leads to the explosion of forgettable thoughts and colours that is REM. Both are of course vital for the continued health of the body, but we inevitably place more emphasis on the dream-state. Or nightmares.
From a suffusion of darkest brown, not unlike the deep topsoil of a massive floodplain given life over millennia through periodic flooding and silt deposits, the brain slowly cycles through the upper stages of sleep: N2, N1, REM, until finally light comes unbidden and unwelcome into the senses.
Everything was blurry, as usual.
“Sunset? Are you okay?” asked a female voice that seemed disembodied and miles away but probably wasn’t..
A groan, then a cough.
“Who?” the subject of the enquiry, Sunset, croaked.
The voice continued. “We’ve been worried about you, darling.”
Sunset decided she hated the light and shut her eyes until her brain could recalibrate.
“What am I?”
“You, dear, are a very sleepy girl who is finally waking up. And, perhaps a different species than myself at some point in the past.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“I apologize but I must insist. The others will…” the voice trailed off as Sunset’s brain switched to visions of featureless artists’ dolls dancing the merengue in a sausage factory while playing kazoos. Sadly, it did not last long as the spectacle literally shattered upon a sensation of feeling. The owner of the voice had grabbed Sunset’s shoulders.
Sunest opened one eye halfway but made no effort to focus vision.
“Why are you?” asked Sunset. Maybe she intended a different interrogative, but that was how it came out.
The voice sighed. “My dear, someone had to make sure you were alive. You’ve been absent for so long.”
Ever so slowly, with great difficulty, the rusted proverbial gears in Sunset’s head began to turn. An animal with finer hearing might have heard the laboured creaking.
“So… I’m awake?”
“Yes,” the voice replied. “Yes you are. Let’s hope it stays that way this time.”
Sunset coughed again, possibly inadvertently dislodging a glob of sputum off in some random direction. “Ugh. How long have I been… not awake?”
The voice sighed. “Six years, darling.”
“Oh,” Sunset oh’d, her affect flat.
“I was honestly worried you would never wake up,” the voice, which was beginning to morph into a purple, white, and blue blob, said. “If I must be honest, our friends gave up on you. They had to. Life couldn’t stop. They had to move on.”
“Who…?” puzzled Sunset.
The voice sighed. “Clearly your brain is not firing on all cylinders yet. Do you remember me?”
At this, Sunset reluctantly opened her other eye. The blob of colours finally settled into a recognizable figure. “Rarity?”
Rarity smiled. However, Sunset tilted her head. Rarity clearly looked worse for wear. No longer the vivacious girl Sunset expected. Her previously waist-length purple hair was much shorter with far less care put into styling. She had developed permanent dark bags under her eyes and her hands trembled. And, as happens to everyone, she had put on a not inconsiderable amount of weight. Sunset barely recognized her.
“I know I must… look quite a lot different than the last time you saw me. Except for you, time stops for no one,” Rarity said, wistful. “Even if we drop off the radar for months or years, time keeps on as it does, and its ravages affect us all.”
Sunset blinked a few times, attempting to process everything.
“I don’t remember… anything… before now,” said Sunset, unsure even of being unsure. “Could you explain?”
Rarity shook her head. “Actually, dear, I can’t. Before she disappeared, one of your friends, a blue girl, said something about universes, branching timelines, and what I honestly felt was a lot of mumbo-jumbo. I certainly could not hope to wrap my head around it. Not sure she could either.”
Sunset furrowed her brows as she tried to access her memory banks.
“Did it involve burritos?”
“Possibly,” Rarity replied. “Speaking of, I’m sad to say our favourite quick-stop restaurant closed. Apparently the owner passed away and then the manager was arrested in the aftermath of the riots you slept through. Honestly, you’re very fortunate this old brick building survived the flames that engulfed much of the rest of downtown. I lost my job after the fire when…” Rarity trailed off.
“Sorry to hear that,” said Sunset, genuinely upset.
“Well, that’s our lot in life I suppose.”
Sunset motioned for Rarity to help her out of bed. Rarity did so but, to the surprise of both of them, Sunset was basically dead-weight as she desperately tried to find her footing and failed.
“Atrophy. Damn. Please, help me to the window,” Sunset requested.
Upon being moved the few feet to her window, Rarity opened the blackout curtain so Sunset could steady herself on the sill and look out. What greeted Sunset’s vision shocked her. Instead of the vibrant downtown she remembered, there were only burned-out husks of buildings stretching for blocks, barely another soul in sight.
“Wow,” said Sunset in a sort of disgusted awe. “This is… bad.”
“Yes. It is,” Rarity agreed with a nod.
“Yes, it is!” said a tall man with light brown skin, messy brown hair, and blue eyes who burst in at that moment.
“What the? …Doctor?!” Sunset exclaimed.
“Indeed,” the Doctor replied. “Your friend Sonata was correct. This is not the proper timeline. None of this should exist. Don’t worry, though, I can fix it through, um, timey-wimey stuff.”
“Really?” Rarity asked, hopeful.
“Of course!” he said, holding up a black cube with a red button. “Press this button.”
Sunset did so.
Everything swirled to black.