> Fringe: The Pink Universe
>  by Pleiades
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Dreamland
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

LOGAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

"... has been delayed by two hours. Again, Flight 777 to Vancouver has been delayed..."
"For what?" a woman said to herself, growing steadily more impatient.
She was sitting in the boarding lounge, where she could see her plane sitting on the tarmac. They weren't refueling. They weren't doing repairs. Frustrated, she got up, walking back towards the food court. She was hungry, having missed breakfast just to make it to a late flight.
As she passed the bathroom, however, a thought struck her. She wasn't hungry anymore. In fact... she felt sick. Ducking into the empty bathroom, she ran for the closest sink. She felt herself heave, as if she was going to throw up. Her stomach felt like it was in so much pain, but she knew she wasn't pregnant or sick. There was just no possible way. She heard the familiar tap-tap of high-heels as another woman came into the bathroom. "Oh my god, are you okay?" the other woman asked as she helped the sick woman out.
As they emerged from the bathroom, she called, "Someone! She's sick! We need a doctor!"
Immediately, a crowd began to form. Paramedics quickly ran to the scene, where they helped her lay down on the hard linoleum. Suddenly, the woman felt her hand begin to tingle. She lifted her arm... which was shimmering. Her fingers were being to fuse together... into a hoof. She couldn't help but scream, as even the paramedics backed off in pure fear.
Some distance away, a bald man wearing a suit and fedora pulled out a very odd-looking cell-phone like device. "I told you," he said, in a monotone voice, into the phone. "It has begun."

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

"MY LITTLE PONY, MY LITTLE PONY, AAH~AAH~AAH~AAAAAAAAH!"
"WALTER!"
Click!
Walter Bishop, mad scientist extraordinaire, bolted up from his slumber, as if he had a nightmare. "What were you thinking?" Astrid Farnsworth, his caretaker and lab assistant, scolded. "I could hear that from the second floor!"
"Oh, I was merely doing an experiment, Aspirin," Walter explained as he leaned back, as if trying to go back to sleep. "I hypothesized about twelve minutes ago that the proper aural stimuli to the brain would be able to affect dreams."
"Walter..." she sighed, but Walter suddenly got up.
"You see, when we dream, our brains are merely filing away information," he began to explain, excitedly. "This is why we remember stuff more clearly after taking a nap!"
He then began to pace around the room, pulling out the record he had recently etched the My Little Pony theme into and putting it next to his gigantic toy collection, which was proudly on display in the lab. "It's also why you can enter a state called 'lucid dreaming'," he continued, "which allows you to control the content of your dreams. I was merely trying to enter that state, but while being exposed to the stimuli instead of exposing myself beforehand, which I believe is a more effective method. And it nearly worked!"
"Well, nice try Walter, but you woke up half of Harvard instead," Astrid scolded again. "I mean, seriously? Ponies? I liked them as a little girl, but an old man like you is obsessed with them?"
A whinny suddenly came out from the cow pen in the lab. Next to Gene, Fringe Division's mascot and Walter's source of milk, was a horse that Walter was experimenting on. Its coat was pink. "I mean, Walter, I know you're crazy," Astrid admitted. "But that's pushing it. Spray painting a horse?"
"Post-specialization genetic manipulation!" Walter exclaimed, now shuffling towards his creation. "I took the genetic code of a rose's pigment cells and inserted them into this pony here, who I've nicknamed Pinkie Pie, effectively turning her coat pink!"
Walter then leaned forward slightly. "And that's not all!" he added.
The look on Astrid's face screamed worry. "What else is there?" she had to ask.
"I intend to implant a reprogrammed human brain into this little pony!" Walter announced. "Allow it to have intelligence on the level of a human!"
Astrid's jaw dropped. "Walter!" she balked. "I thought I was used to your crazy ideas! You're obsessed, aren't you?"
"Those crazy ideas have made me what I am!" Walter retorted. "And it is not an obsession! It is a dream come true!"
"Well, if you want it to be a dream come true, why don't you get back on that couch, put on some headphones, and go right back to dreamland?" Astrid suggested angrily. "I mean, you've torn holes in universes, that should be easy for you! Go on ahead into Ponytown or whatever it's called!"
Walter was about to retort, but then he stopped. "That's not a bad idea..." he said to himself quietly, as if he had a sudden realization.
A voice suddenly called out. "Hey, Astrid, Walter!"
Astrid jumped again. Peter Bishop, Walter's son, had come out of the office, wearing industrial ear protection. "Olivia just called!" he shouted, unaware how loud his voice was. "We got a case!"
Astrid made a motion as if she was removing an earphone. "Oh, right!" Peter shouted, pulling them off.
His voice back to normal, he then added, "Sorry about that, I was trying not to go deaf. We're headed to Logan International. Something absolutely absurd happened."
"What would that be?" Walter crossed his arms in curiosity. "A quantum tectonic event? Spontaneous human combustion? Another supervirus?"
"Nope," Peter replied. "Nobody's dead this time. Olivia says we have to see this for ourselves."
"I'm driving!" Walter proclaimed, walking right past them.
Peter and Astrid exchanged glances. "This is one of the few times I will wear my seatbelt," Peter said.

LOGAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

The station wagon rolled along, closely weaving its way through plenty of CDC trucks. "What is the CDC doing here?" Walter had to ask. "Peter? I thought you said nobody was dead."
"Well, here's hoping nobody died on the way here," Peter replied, Astrid holding on tight to his arm in pure fear.
They finally stopped in front of Arrivals. Just in front of the C Terminal door stood Charlie Francis, Olivia's partner. "There you are," he said as Peter and Astrid emerged from the back seat while Walter struggled a little with his seat belt. "First time I've seen your dad drive."
"I hope it's the last, too," Peter greeted back, still a little shaky. "So what's going on?"
"Funny enough, this case involves only one person, Tara Nimoy," Charlie explained as Walter finally came out. "Witnesses say that she was feeling sick, as if she was going to throw up, and then parts of her began to shimmer and transform."
"Shimmer and transform?" Walter asked. "Why, that's absolutely amazing!"
"More like freaky," Charlie corrected. "Olivia's inside, questioning her now. We're looking into the possibility of a supervirus right now, so you'll need to suit up."
"I knew it was a supervirus!" Walter cheered as he hurried off to the changing station, leaving Peter to facepalm.

"... and then, I- I became this hideous... thing..."
"It's okay, don't worry," Olivia comforted Tara, from behind the visor of a CDC suit.
Parts of her had transformed into those of a horse; her face had been partly altered, her mouth and nose having grown into a snout, her left arm and right leg had grown hooves, she had upright, pointy ears, and a curly tail was poking out from her now-torn pants. The funny thing is that she looked surprisingly cartoonish. "Someone's coming on his way now to examine you. He's an expert in, well... everything of this nature."
"Everything of this nature?" Tara couldn't help but ask.
"Trust me," Olivia confirmed. "He has actually been able to cure a 75,000 year old supervirus with horseradish."
A knock on the door alerted Olivia. "Oh, here he is now," she said, turning around.
Walter came in, dressed in CDC gear and carrying a large case. "It's so good to see you again, Olivia," he greeted as he sat down at the table Olivia and Tara were sitting at. "And it's nice to meet you, Ms....?"
"Tara... Tara Nimoy," she introduced herself. "Are you the person that's going to cure me?"
"Why, yes, I am," Walter replied, opening his case to reveal all sorts of equipment, from syringes to Petri dishes. Olivia even spotted a miniature centrifuge Peter had built a couple of days ago. "I'm Dr. Walter Bishop. Now, tell me... have you recently taken any sort of unusual medication? LSD, maybe?"
The shocked look on Tara's face clued him into the answer. "I suppose not, then..." Walter quietly said. "I also suspect you haven't worked in any mysterious laboratories or government projects?"
"No... I'm a college student," Tara replied, uneasy. "I'm a Computer Science major from Drexel."
"Walter," Olivia said, trying to get the message across.
"I was just going home, to see my family..." she began to moan, a tear streaming down her face. "I... I can't let them see me like this..."
"It's okay."
Strangely enough, it was Walter who was saying this. Gently, he wiped the tear off of Tara's face. "I will do everything in my power to help you."
Suddenly, he turned away, and began speaking to what looked like thin air. "Peter?" he asked. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I can," Peter's voice came over Olivia's and Walter's headsets. "Need something?"
"Yes," Walter said, straightening up. "I need a decontamination chamber in my lab. If indeed this is a supervirus, I will need more equipment than I do here. This is something even I have never seen before."
"Right, I'll get on it," Peter replied.
"As for you, Ms. Nimoy..." Walter turned his attention back to her, "I will need to take a couple of blood samples. Would you mind we do it here? We can get results faster once we get back to the lab."
"Um... sure..." Tara agreed, cautiously stretching out her arm.
Walter pulled out a syringe and a few test tubes. "This will only sting a little," he cautioned. "Trust me, I've used a hundred of these on myself."
A quick poke into one of her veins, and Walter drew out 20ml of blood. "This is all I think I need," he said, loading the tubes into the mini-centrifuge. "This is certainly a rare moment in the history of genetics. The last virus of this type I studied turned the unfortunate victim into a porcupine-man."
Tara could only grimace.

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

"Hm~hm~hmm~hm~hmmm..."
Walter was quietly humming to himself as he swept Tara with his new Geiger counter. The number on it didn't even flicker. "Damn," he cursed to himself. "Not a rad."
"Um... isn't that a good thing?" Tara asked.
"Normally, it is," Walter answered, putting away the Geiger counter. "However, in this case, it means that we can clearly rule out the supernatural."
He quickly turned back towards her. "Things like astral projection and psychic mutations... these occurances tends to generate some amount of radiation."
"Psychic mutations?" Tara was clearly lost for words.
"Mutations in DNA and cells caused by psychic interactions," Walter explained. "I've always been fascinated with the idea."
Outside the decontamination chamber, Peter removed Tara's blood samples from the centrifuge, which had just finished, and put it under a microscope. "Can't see anything out of the ordinary..." he muttered, staring down the lenses. "Looks about as healthy as a drop of blood can get."
"Healthy blood?" Walter asked, leaving the decontamination chamber. "Did you fire up the electron microscope?"
"Didn't need to," Peter replied. "Nothing isolated on the way home save for the red blood cells."
"Anything odd about the red blood cells?"
"Nope."
"White blood cells?"
"Nope."
"Platelets?"
"Nope."
"Plasma?"
"Nope."
"Anything? Anything at all?"
"Nope," Peter repeated, shaking his head. "Sorry Walter, it's not a supervirus."
"Damn it..." Walter cursed again, removing his gear. "What is it? What has caused Ms. Nimoy's impromptu transformation?!"
"You sound a little too interested, Walter," Peter said.
"Hey, Broyles just called," Olivia announced, coming out of the office. "Nothing was found at Logan. No amphilicite, no weird liquids, no vials filled to the brim with some deadly virus."
"Nothing?" Walter had to ask, removing one of his boots.
"Nothing," Olivia confirmed.
"Dammit!" Walter shouted, stomping his foot and making Astrid, who was feeding Gene and 'Pinkie Pie', jump. "I'm going back to one of my other projects."
All eyes followed Walter as he marched off into the office, past Olivia. "... I'm letting Tara out." Olivia announced, walking away. "At least it isn't contagious, whatever it is."
"I'm calling Nina," Peter announced. "At least her mind isn't filled to the brim with those damned ponies."
Walter, in the office, opened his old filing cabinet again, this time looking for a project from as far back as 1985. "Ah, here it is!" he said to himself, pulling out an old folder. He put it down on the desk and began to search through it, taking out various sheets... then stopping at one. "What... what's this?" he had to ask, looking at it in closer detail.
The sheet of paper had a diagram of the tuning box, with the dial turned to 329.628 Hz. However, that wasn't what stood out to him. Beneath it was a drawing of Olivia... and what looked like a pony, from My Little Pony itself. It had a hairstyle strikingly similar to Olivia's.
Outside, Olivia opened the decontamination chamber's doors after finally finding the depressurization switch. "Can I get you anything, Tara?" she asked, her attention more on opening a sticky zipper.
"Um... I haven't had anything to eat all day..." Tara responded.
"Okay, anything specif-" Olivia was in the middle of asking when she looked up.
Now that her vision of Tara was unobstructed by plastic visors and sheets, she could look at Tara directly. And what she saw almost made her jump.
Tara was shimmering again. But the horse parts of her were shimmering instead, like Peter did after she managed to spot a hotel that was about to be pulled into another universe. "Oh my..." Olivia's eyes widened.
"What?" Tara asked.
Olivia quickly ran for the office, leaving the door partially unzipped and Tara, again, dumbfounded. "Walter!" she called. "Walter!"
"Olivia!" Walter called back, running back out with the exact sheet of paper he found.
"I think I know what happened!" Olivia quickly announced.
"I think I do too!" Walter added, showing her the sheet.
Olivia took a quick look at the sheet. "You can't be serious..." she said to herself, looking back up. "Again?"
"I didn't draw this!" Walter snapped. "I found it among my old files, all the way back from 1985! Files I had never touched for over 20 years!"
"So what are you saying?" Olivia asked.
"I think someone planted this in there," Walter came to a conclusion. "And if someone planted it, here of all places, it's probably something that'll help us! Come, I'll need your help! Astral, Peter! Drop what you're doing! We've got something important to do!"
"Astrid!" she corrected, dropping the rest of the feed into 'Pinkie Pie' and Gene's shared feed bucket.
"Yeah, Nina, I'm gonna have to call you back, Walter's screaming bloody murder over here. Right, see you in a few minutes," Peter said casually into the phone, before hanging up. "Right, what is it?"
"We-we need to construct this again!" Walter stuttered, his excitement getting the better of him as he handed over the paper. "I think this will lead to some answers concerning Ms. Nimoy!"
"What will?"
Tara had finally managed to get out of the decontamination chamber. Walter took a couple steps forward. "Ms. Nimoy..." he began to explain. "I have a hypothesis as to what happened to you. However, even I have some level of disbelief concerning it, in spite of everything I have seen in my 64 years of age."
"And... that is?" Tara had to ask. At this point, she had every reason to worry.
"Ms. Nimoy..." Walter continued. "I do not think you have been mutated in any way. In fact... I believe you have been forcibly fused with a being from an alternate universe. And I can prove it, in more ways than one. I'm sorry to say this, but... Please, remove your pants."
Tara's jaw fell. "What?!" she nearly shouted. "You old perv-"
"Ms. Nimoy," Walter interrupted her. "I am less interested in what is between your legs, and more interested in what is on your right hip."
Reluctantly, Tara took off her belt, and struggled a little to remove her jeans one-handed. Eventually, however, they came off. "Oh my..." Walter stroked his chin, as everyone else grew wide-eyed, especially Astrid.
Tara had an image of a computer tattooed onto her horse fur. Or rather, it was part of her fur. "Holy shit..." Peter breathed.


> A Thousand Eyes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

"So, there're other universes than our own?"
"That's right," Olivia confirmed, the sound of power tools being dampened by the office's walls. Olivia had recently gotten Tara a sandwich. "We traveled to one multiple times to solve cases that involve some sort of pseudoscience. Would you believe that I'm a redhead over there?"
"This is... well..." Tara tried to make sense of things, putting her sandwich down. "It feels absurd."
"Oh, trust me, you have no idea how it felt when I first heard of it," Olivia responded. "And right now, the concept of a third universe being linked to ours feels just plain absurd too. It was already a headache dealing with one alternate universe. Now we've got another based off of a cartoon show."
"Hello!"
The power tools stopped running, and Olivia realized who had arrived. "Oh, excuse me for a second," Olivia said, walking back out into the lab itself.
Nina had just arrived. "Hello Nina!" Walter called out, striding his way towards her and giving her a hug. "It's nice to see you again!"
"It's nice to see you too, Walter," Nina returned the hug.
Then she noticed Olivia. "Oh, Olivia, you're looking wonderful today!" she greeted, extending a hug to her surrogate daughter.
"It's nice to see you too, Nina," Olivia took it.
Olivia exited her embrace. "So, what is it that I can help with?" Nina asked.
"Um..." Olivia wasn't sure how to break it to her. 
Walter did the honors. "I have something to show you," he announced, striding back to his project.
What Nina saw surprised her. "Walter!" she snapped. "Do you remember what happened last time you built that?!"
What stood before them looked like a glass pane on a tripod, connected to the same tuning box that was depicted in the new sheet Walter found. Parts of it had been clearly cannibalized from other machines in the lab. "I remember very clearly," Walter answered, becoming stern. "Before you say anything more, I have no intention to steal my son for a second time. I assume Peter told you about our most recent case?"
"Yes, he did," Nina replied, "but I don't see how that infernal device has anything to do with it!"
"It has everything to do with it!" Walter snapped back. "I believe our subject, Ms. Nimoy, has been forcibly fused with a being from a third universe!"
Nina was clearly surprised, her eyes widening. "And it is about time to test that hypothesis!" Walter announced, taking the tuning box and twisting the dial to 329.628 Hz.
The glass pane began to go cloudy, as it bent the laws of reality, attempting to vibrate at the same frequency as that universe. Eventually, an image began to come into view... "It's now in HD, by the way," Walter added with a smile.
Even Nina couldn't help but grin, despite her anger. All that anger disappeared as the window displayed Walter's lab... empty. "... Is it working?" Peter had to ask.
"Asteroid!" Walter called out, not realizing Astrid was right next to her.
"Yes, William?" Astrid responded, taking a stab back at him.
"William?" Walter couldn't help but ask.
Astrid gave him a look that said 'back at you'. "Please stand behind the window," he instructed, getting back to the subject.
"Um...sure..." Astrid agreed, walking over.
Astrid crossed behind the window... but through the window, she wasn't visible. "It works!" Walter cheered.
Astrid took a look through the window on her side... and promptly noticed something. "Walter..." she beckoned. “You might want to see this.”
Confused, Walter strode his way behind the window... and immediately jumped. "Oh my!" he almost squealed. "That's just amazing! Dear Ella would love to see this!"
"What's amazing?" Olivia had to ask, this time going around the window herself.
What she saw nearly made her jump herself, and she was a seasoned FBI agent. Behind the window, the rest of the lab was displayed. And standing in the middle, mixing various random chemicals... was a horse. It looked stunningly like Tara's horse parts, but it was a darker brown than Tara. It had a tattoo of a flask on its hip, its nose was squarer, and it had a horn like a narwhal on its forehead. What stood out most, though, was that it had a hairstyle similar to Walter's. It was even wearing what looked like his clothes, but no pants. "Walter..." Olivia had to ask. "Is that...?"
"Me?" Walter finished. "I wouldn't be surprised. In fact, I think he's making some LSD..."
"Oh god."
Peter and Nina were watching from behind them. "As if genetically manipulating a horse wasn't bad enough," he snarked. "Now we're looking into a universe where Walter's a pony."
"I may have to do some research into the franchise after all," Nina quipped.
"Is... is that where... these came from?" Tara asked, raising her hoof.
"Yes, I believe so," Walter confirmed. "But we will get no answers simply sitting here. We can't even hear them; much less they even know we exist."
"Don't tell me," Peter stopped him. "You are not going to that universe. Absolutely not. I've had enough of universe jumping and ponies, and I've had enough of them separately."
"How else do you expect us to get answers concerning Ms. Nimoy?" Walter retorted. "If they forcibly merged one of their own with one of our own, they may know how to reverse the process!"
"It also means that they're hostile!" Peter fought back, steadily growing angrier. "Remember when the other side kept sending shapeshifters to give us a hard time? Or when Olivia got replaced by Fauxlivia?"
"I remember Fauxlivia, we all do!” Walter answered. “I seriously doubt we’d fall for that again!”
"You don't get it, do you?" Peter asked.
"Apparently, he doesn't," Nina sighed. "Even if we could go, we would probably cause even more damage to the universe than before. And Olivia here has lost nearly all of her cortexiphan; we can't possibly cross over safely."
"I want to go."
All eyes turned to Tara in surprise. "I... I don't want to be like this," she began to sob. "Dr. Bishop?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Please, help me get there," she begged. "I don't care how dangerous it is for me. I just want to be normal again. I just want to see my family again..."
Tara nearly burst into tears. Olivia glanced at Walter and Nina. "... Any ideas?" she asked.
"... I'm afraid not," Nina admitted.
"Apart from the obvious, which involves using the most dangerous possible way to cross over," Walter began, "I'm not sure what we can do, apart from doing more drug trials with cortexiphan-"
He was met with angry glares from everyone except Tara. "I was not intending to!" he continued. "Such a thing is not even a possibility, given how long those drug trials can take!"
"On the subject of cortexiphan..." Olivia suddenly got an idea. "I've lost nearly all of my cortexiphan, right?"
"That is correct," Walter confirmed. "The levels of cortexiphan in your body should be almost negligible..."
"But I still saw Tara glimmer."
The lab suddenly fell silent. "What?" Peter gasped.
"Tara glimmered," Olivia repeated. "So whatever cortexiphan I have left should still have some use."
Olivia suddenly grabbed the window, and twisted it, as if looking for something. "Olivia..." Astrid had to ask. "What're you thinking?"
"When I was trapped on the other side, I used a sensory deprivation tank to get back to this side," Olivia began to explain. "So I'm thinking I can do it to go there."
"Preposterous!"
All eyes turned back to Walter, this time in surprise. "Cortexiphan was only designed with the Other Side in mind!" he stammered. "I am highly doubtful that it will permit you to travel to that universe. What if you end up back on the Other Side instead?"
"Worth a shot, right?" Olivia crossed her arms. "You suggested cortexiphan yourself."
"I was going to suggest modifying the formula!" Walter clarified.
"Wait a second..."
This time it was Astrid who spoke up. "I think I have an idea..."
"Coming from you?" Walter had to ask. "Why, that's a first!"
"Working with a mad scientist tends to rub off on you," Astrid dismissed. "Remember when you demonstrated that both sides need to be properly balanced, using a balance?"
"Why, yes, I do!"
"And Peter?" Astrid continued. "Remember when you said that the only reason we can cross over is because our universes are linked?"
"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "What're you thinking?"
"What if you added a third arm to that balance?"
Again, the lab fell deathly silent, as if Astrid's suggestion was a shotgun blast. "No, no, no, it shouldn't be that simple..." Walter muttered, in thought. "Surely we would be dealing with a lot worse if a third universe connected itself to ours, especially one that deviated on an evolutionary level and in their laws of nature..."
"But it doesn't explain why Olivia saw Tara glimmer," Nina argued. "We're looking at proof of another universe, and what's left of Olivia's cortexiphan reacted to her."
Nina put a hand on Walter's shoulder. "Besides, just because something is designed for a specific purpose doesn't mean it can't be used for something else."
Walter froze. "Are you saying...?”
"Who says cortexiphan can't be used to go to the third universe?" Peter finished.

Olivia lay in the sensory deprivation tank, floating in the water with her jacket on, gun in her holster. This was the second time she had gotten into such a tank fully dressed. "Olivia, can you hear me?" Walter's voice came from speakers embedded in the tank.
"Yes."
"This procedure has not been performed before in a true laboratory setting, but I will attempt to assist you as best as I can. We are going to follow the same procedures as the synaptic transfer you performed with John Scott, as both require simultaneous relaxation and concentration."
There was a short pause. "Nina would like to speak with you first," Walter suddenly announced.
"Olivia?" Nina's voice came over the speakers.
"Yes?"
"Be careful," she warned. "It was worrying enough when Walter first went to the Other Side."
"I will."
"It is time to begin the procedure," Walter announced. "Now, imagine yourself at the top of a staircase."
In Olivia's mind, she was at the top of a really long staircase. Looking down, she couldn't see the end. "Slowly descend," Walter ordered. "As you descend, you will become progressively more and more relaxed."
She began to walk down the stairs, slowly. Every step felt heavier and heavier, and she could feel herself getting sleepy. "Now you are about to reach the bottom," Walter continued. "The last five steps... four... three... two... one."
Outside, on the monitor, Olivia began to shimmer. Then, suddenly, she vanished. "There she goes," Walter said, leaning back. "She's in the new universe."
"Then it's time we got on our part of the plan," Peter tried to rally everyone.



Olivia opened her eyes. She was still in the sensory deprivation tank. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she flipped around in the water so that she was on her arms and knees, and drew her gun. She waited for Walter's voice, just in case. She also knew that if she was on the Other Side, she wouldn't be able to get out of the tank; the other Broyles had chained it, ensuring her escape. She pressed her hand against the heavy doors, and softly pushed. It made a creaking sound, but opened. There was no chain on it. Olivia slowly opened it further, but it suddenly fell open by itself, making a loud 'clang!’ Olivia cringed a little; she wasn't hoping to make so much noise.
She stepped out gently, dripping wet and gun in hand. Looking around, everything looked the same. The only difference was that nobody was there. No Walter, no Peter, no Astrid, no Nina, not even Tara. She didn't even see that horned horse that they saw earlier, through the window. Olivia took a couple of cautious steps forward, when she heard a gasp. She quickly whipped around, raising her gun, only to see the same pony, his head poking out from behind a table. "... Am I dreaming?" he asked quietly, in Walter's unmistakable voice.
Realizing that this pony was truly Walter's counterpart, Olivia lowered her gun. "Don't worry," she tried to reassure him, despite the fact that she was probably twice as tall as him. "My name is Olivia Dunham. I'm from another universe, and I need your help."
"Olivia... Dunham..." the Walter-pony said to himself, scratching behind his ear pensively. "Why does that sound familiar?"
"You've heard of me?" Olivia asked.
"No, no, no, I must be imagining things, must have taken some PEA..." he muttered to himself. “Maybe Knight was right, I should stop being so crazy about humans...”
This immediately alerted Olivia. She raised her gun again, thinking he was hostile. "Were you the one that sent that pony over?!" she accused, ready to blow this pony's horn off with the slightest twitch.
Walter-pony looked absolutely surprised. "Is that where she went?" he asked. "Is she alright?"
"She got fused with a human!" Olivia nearly shouted. "Did you send her over intentionally?
"No, absolutely not!" Walter-pony attempted to defend himself, cowering behind the lab bench again. "We had just opened a new case, trying to find out where she went!"
There was no reason for her not to trust this pony, especially as he seemed sincere. Olivia lowered her gun again, carefully. "Can you show me those files?" she asked a little more gently.
Walter-pony stuck his head up. "W-whatever it is that you're pointing at me... can you put it away?" he asked, with Walter's trademark stammer.
A quick pause and Olivia holstered her gun. "My-My name's Dr. Rootbeer Float, by the way," he introduced himself, slowly emerging from behind the desk. "What's yours again?"
"Olivia Dunham," Olivia reintroduced herself.
"Olivia... Olivia... olive... olive oil..." Rootbeer was muttering to himself as he trotted over to what looked like a phone. However, it was completely different; instead of a headset, it simply had a speaker and a microphone. A wire leading from it led down to a mat with numbers. "Now what was his number again...?” Rootbeer muttered to himself, as he began to carefully step on each number. "6... 1... 7... 5... 5... 5... 7... 0... 7... 1..."
"That's Peter's cell phone number..." Olivia muttered to herself.
The speaker began to ring once... twice... thrice... "Yeah, Rootbeer?" Peter's unmistakable voice came through the speaker.
"Knight, it's me, your father, Rootbeer Float..." Rootbeer replied into the microphone.
"I know who you are, Rootbeer," Knight replied. "Did you find something?"
"This is something you're going to want to see immediately, son," Rootbeer answered. "And bring Agent Savior with you too."
"What is it?"
"You won't believe me unless you see it yourself."
"Alright... I'll be there soon."
"Thank you, son."
Rootbeer tapped on a red microphone icon on the mat. "That was my son, Black Knight," he proudly said. "He's going to be so happy to see you! Oh, and Secretary Sparkle too!"
Olivia suddenly became wary. She had some pretty bad memories with the previous Secretary she dealt with. "Who's Secretary Sparkle?" Olivia had to ask.
"Why, she's the Secretary of Magic and Science!" Rootbeer explained cheerfully. "She's been coordinating her own effort when it came to the disappearance of that poor mare, Chocolate Bar. Which reminds me, how is she doing?"
"Hell if I know if she's alive," Olivia shook her head. "Frankly, we only found out about the fusion this morning. The woman she fused with is okay, though. Very badly shaken up, but she's okay."
"So... is Chocolate Bar...?" Rootbeer asked, not bothering to finish his sentence.
"... I don't know," Olivia admitted after a pause. "But when I go back, I'll be sure to tell Wal... err, my version of you to find out."
"I cannot help but worry about her... in spite of the fact that I have never met her," Rootbeer said, trotting over to a stack of files. "In fact, I have not left this lab for almost 20 years..."
Rootbeer's horn began to glow a light brown, and suddenly the files began to float up, covered in the same light brown aura. Olivia was taken aback a little. She felt herself reach for her gun. "Here are the few files we have on dear Chocolate Bar," Rootbeer explained, the box floating over to Olivia. "Medical records, mainly. A-are you a doctor?"
"Nope," Olivia admitted, smirking slightly. "But I know one."
Suddenly, the door opened, and a two more ponies came trotting through. One was a lighter brown than Rootbeer, and had Peter's hairstyle along with an angular jaw. He was wearing a leather jacket. The other one, though, was the one depicted in the sheet Walter found. It had a tiny little snout, wide green eyes, and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail... Olivia's ponytail. She had wings, too, which only added to Olivia's curiosity, and was wearing some kind of blazer. Both of them froze upon seeing Olivia. "... Rootbeer?" Peter-pony asked. "Is this what you wanted us to see?"
Olivia and Olivia-pony locked eyes, neither of them even blinking. "Of course, Knight!" Rootbeer explained. "Meet Ms. Olivia Dunham! She's from a third universe."
"A third universe?!" Olivia-pony gasped.
She quickly reached behind her... and somehow pulled out a cannon as large as her, pointed right at Olivia. Olivia quickly drew her gun again, pointing it right between Olivia-pony's eyes. "I'm not here to cause trouble!" she declared. "I'm here looking for help!"
"Agent Savior!" Rootbeer balked. "Put your party cannon away! She means no harm to us!"
Savior simply continued to stare at Olivia, maintaining their Mexican standoff. "Listen to me," Olivia pleaded, desperate not to get a cannonball to the face. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. There's a pony that disappeared from here. She ended up in my universe."
Savior's eyes lit up. "What do you know?" she demanded.
"Very little," Olivia answered. "I came here to find out more."
Savior slowly took her hooves off her cannon. Olivia lowered her gun too. "Sorry, I've been jumpy recently..." she admitted. “I was impersonated by some mule from another universe a few weeks ago.”
Olivia was about to open her mouth, when she remembered what Walter said; that there were an infinite amount of universes. "Yeah... I was too," Olivia added.
Rootbeer cleared his throat. "May I let go of these now?" he asked, nudging Olivia with the box.
"Oh, um, sorry..." Olivia opened it.
The first thing that she noticed was that instead of the FBI logo on the files like she was used to, instead, there were three logos. One of them looked suspiciously like the FBI's, but had "Royal Bureau of Investigation" on it. The second was... Massive Dynamic's? What are they doing there? Olivia wondered to herself.
The last logo surprised her even more. "Fringe Division?" Olivia lifted her head.
"Oh, yeah," Savior said. "We're just a bunch of people in coats going around taking care of the weird stuff. You look surprised."
"Kind of..." Olivia responded, opening the file.
Inside was the usual stuff; information on who Chocolate Bar was. She immediately recognized parts of her face; they were part of Tara's face now. She also spotted an image of the same computer tattooed on Tara's hip. "I'm a member of Fringe Division, in my universe too," Olivia explained, closing the file. "But we don't have our own logo. We're just a small part of the FBI."
"FBI?" Knight asked. "What's that?"
"Federal Bureau of Investigation," Olivia continued. "We're an interstate police force. I think you call it the Royal Bureau of Investigation?"
"Yeah," Savior confirmed. "Fringe Division split from them some time ago, but we still work with them."
"Oh! And Massive Dynamic too!" Rootbeer suddenly added.
"So that's why their logo is here..." Olivia muttered.
Then she got back to the subject. "So you honestly have no idea how this happened?" Olivia asked.
"Nope," Knight added. "All we know is that she began to shimmer, and then... disappear."
"Well, that doesn't help..." Olivia snarked. "So what, am I just leaving empty-handed?"
"Nope," Rootbeer shook his head. "Not yet, at least. Don't you want to speak with Secretary Sparkle? She might be able to help out."
"Um..." Olivia was about to answer, but Savior cut her off.
"I'm going to arrange transport!" she suddenly declared, jumping up and flying out the doors.
Olivia only stared blankly for a couple of seconds. "Just like her," Knight sighed. "So what's Fringe Division over there doing with whoever Chocolate Bar fused with?"



NEARBY MASSIVE DYNAMIC

Indian music was playing, predictably, in an Indian restaurant a couple of blocks down from Massive Dynamic's headquarters. Sitting at a table near the back were a couple of men, dressed in suits and ties. Both of them were bald, and their hats were on the table next to their meals, the spiciest things on the menu. Both of them were spreading as much hot sauce as they could upon their slabs of meat. They stopped, when a third bald man in a suit and tie, with a briefcase, joined them wordlessly. "We have a situation," he reported, his voice monotone. "I have recently received a communication from the rogue September."
One of the bald men eating, the one that looked the oldest, looked up. "What did he say, July?" he asked, with an equally monotone voice.
“It has begun,” July responded. “I believe he was referring to the event he foresaw involving Tara Nimoy.”
“So he was right,” the oldest admitted.
“What action do you propose we take, December?” the other diner asked.
December closed his eyes, appearing to think for a second. “Tara Nimoy is an irregularity,” he finally judged. “We will have to correct it.”
He turned towards the other diner. “March, contact Michael.”
“Michael will not be able to reach Tara Nimoy,” March responded. “Their security is too advanced for any of our men to correct her. If we are to correct her, we will have to do it ourselves.”
“It is a shame August died, protecting Christine Hollace,” July admitted. “His cunning would have been useful in this operation.”
“Indeed,” December agreed. “Yet we do not wish to move too early.”
“But if we do not correct Tara Nimoy, our mission will be a failure,” March responded.
December nodded, and then widened his eyes, as if he was seeing something. “… I suggest it may be a good idea to wait,” he finished. “She is still an irregularity we will need to fix, but we do not have to fix her immediately. In the meantime, July, would you like to order something? The curry here is perhaps the best I have ever tasted.”

MASSIVE DYNAMIC RESIDENCES

“You… bought this all for me?”
Tara, Nina, and Peter were all in the recently-purchased Massive Dynamic Residences, originally a condominium that was financially failing. “Well, not exactly,” Nina admitted. “We expect there to be more incidences of merging than just you.”
They finally reached Tara’s condo. “This is your haven,” Nina explained, pulling out a key. “For security reasons, we cannot allow you to leave the building, and for a few weeks we cannot let you go below the third floor.”
“Why not?” she asked, curious.
“We’ve hired construction workers to drastically alter the first and second floors into communal areas,” Nina answered. “After all, we want your stay to be as comfortable as possible.”
With that, Nina turned the key, letting Tara in. Inside were the usual amenities; living room, kitchen, and bedroom. “We’ve also arranged for your luggage to be brought here,” Nina added.
Tara was nearly tearing up. “T-thank you…” she began to stammer.
“You’re welcome, dear,” Nina answered, handing over the key. “Please, make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, we’ve provided a phone in your room with my office number.”
Nina closed the door behind her. “Not that this sounds crazy, but do you really think there will be that many victims?” Peter asked. “You bought at least sixty condos on a whim.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Nina replied, batting her hand. “I didn’t even have to budget this expense.”
Peter, grinning, shook his head as they walked back down the hallway. “No wonder they call me a conspiracy theorist.”
Then, Walter came almost running down the hall with another man, who was plain impossible not to recognize; William Bell, CEO of Massive Dynamic. “Walter, William!” Nina greeted. “What brings you two here?”
“Oh, nothing much, just doing some more testing on young Tara, that’s all,” William Bell responded. “And Peter! It’s so good to see you again!”
Bell attempted to hug Peter, but Peter stopped him with a handshake. “It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Bell,” he greeted.
Peter then took a blind sniff at the air. “Smoking again?”
“Small amounts of Chronic Supernova,” Walter responded. “Don’t worry, we’re still lucid!”
Peter and Nina exchanged glances. “Just don’t try to throw her in any machinery that will rip her atom from atom, okay?” Peter warned.
“Oh, no, wouldn’t dream of it!” Walter refused.
“We might put her in a sensory deprivation tank, though,” Bell admitted.
Peter pointed a finger at Bell. “I know how the process works, and you are not going to give her cubes of enhanced LSD. Honestly, you should have seen Broyles on that stuff after he accidentally took some from Walter’s stash.”
Nina glanced over at Peter. “He was on LSD?” she gasped.
“Long story,” Peter dismissed.
“T-there’s a reason why we want to put her in there, though…” Walter stammered as usual, nearly tripping over his own tongue.
“We think she’s got two consciousnesses,” Bell finished.
It was like something exploded nearby. Peter raised his finger again, this time pensive. “… That actually makes sense,” he admitted. “But seriously? You’re going to do it?”
“Not now,” Bell continued. “We’re just going to hook her up to an EEG, that’s all.”
“Alright,” Peter let up. “Just don’t try anything funny.”
“Of course not, son,” Walter reassured him. “If anything, I brought her some blueberry pancakes, the Bishop specialty!”
Peter grinned. “When don’t you think of blueberry pancakes?”
“When I think of apple fritters!” Walter rushed by them.
Bell only laughed as he followed his lab partner. “Should we watch?” Peter asked.
“No, let them have their fun,” Nina replied. “They’ll find out something useful.”
“Oh, that I know very well.”



UNKNOWN LOCATION

Olivia sat in the back of a rattling carriage, closely guarded by Savior and curled up so that she would fit in it; it was tiny compared to her. The carriage was being pulled by two other ponies, with wings like Savior’s. “Oh, by the way…” Savior suddenly realized, “I never really told you who I am.”
She held out her hoof. “I’m Agent Star Savior. What’s your name?” she introduced.
“Agent Olivia Dunham,” Olivia introduced herself, shaking her hoof.
“Um… what the hay is an Olivia? Or a Dunham for that matter?” Savior asked, scratching her ear.
“Olivia’s just a name,” Olivia answered, realizing Savior’s confusion. “We humans normally don’t name ourselves after things like that. You won’t ever find a human named Rootbeer Float, which brings me to ask… Why the hell do you have wings?”
“Never seen a pegasus before?” Savior seemed insulted, raising an eyebrow.
Olivia’s mind quickly flashed back to her grade school history classes, when she studied the Greek myths. “Oh, right…” she realized.
Suddenly, the carriage stopped rattling, but Olivia could clearly feel it moving… in fact, it felt like it was rising. She couldn’t resist the urge to get up, back bent, and look out the tinted glass window. “Eeek!” she screamed, toppling back.
They were suspended, midair, over what looked like a river. “What’s going on?!” she suddenly demanded.
Savior seemed unfazed. “Oh, we’re flying,” she explained. “We pegasi can normally take carriages with us when we fly, thanks to our magic.”
“Three years in Fringe Division isn’t helping me get over this crazy stuff…” she breathed.
“Now I’m not sure if I want to see your universe,” Savior sighed.
They eventually came to land. Olivia stepped out, still in shock, but glad to feel concrete under her feet. She looked up, towards the sky. Above her, a multitude of pegasi were flying above them, most taking with them some sort of carriage. None of them paid attention to her; they were too high up. Olivia then turned around… and saw the Statue of Liberty. But it wasn’t the one she was used to; instead, it was clearly a pony, but with both wings and a horn. It had a large smile plastered on its face, unlike the Statue of Liberty’s serious look. The famous Liberty Torch was simply suspended in midair, as if gravity wasn’t affecting it. “Impressed?” Savior asked.
“Kind of…” Olivia breathed. “Why does she have both wings and a horn? I haven’t seen anything like that so far…”
“You’re about to find out why. Come on, this way!” Savior answered, trotting towards the statue.
Olivia looked back at their version of the Statue of Liberty. It seemed… oddly welcoming. “Well?” Savior called, getting Olivia’s attention back.
“Oh, sorry!” Olivia responded, jogging after her.
The base of the statue was quite different from the Statue of Liberty’s. It was more like a building styled to be a pedestal. Savior let herself in through the unusually large doors; earlier, Olivia had problems getting out of Harvard, simply because the doors were a lot smaller. These were large enough for a horse, literally.
Olivia stopped the door before it slammed in her face, slowly walking forward. Inside was a dark room, which felt strangely like an auditorium. “Go on ahead, I’ve got stuff to do,” Savior ordered, pointing a wing down into the darkness as she slipped into a side passage.
As Olivia stepped forward, she did everything she could to resist pulling out her gun, which three years of fringe cases and who knows how many more doing sting operations taught her to do. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, a spotlight turned on above her, shining down on her and making her jump. It felt like a cartoon… which, frankly, this was, in a sense. “Your name is Olivia Dunham, is that correct?” a clearly female, but authoritative, voice suddenly boomed.
“Um…” Olivia gasped a little. “Yes?”
Olivia heard someone else whispering in the room, again with a female voice, but less authoritative… the kind a stuntwoman would have. “What the hay is an Olivia?”
“What do you know about the pony disappearance?” the voice boomed again.
“Well, from where I come from, it looked like a spontaneous transformation,” Olivia explained, slowly becoming irked. “On our side, the pony that disappeared is known as Tara Nimoy. She transformed in the middle of an airport, but we were able to suppress information about it from the public, to avoid mass panic.”
“Do you know how this happened?” the authoritative voice continued.
“No,” Olivia said, her annoyance beginning to bubble over. “I don’t know how it happened. That’s why I came to this universe, to get some insight into this incident.”
She then crossed her arms. “And I don’t feel like answering any more questions until mine are. First, why the hell am I being treated like a criminal? And second, who the hell are you people? I’m sick of talking to people through dark rooms.”
There was no response, though in Olivia’s mind, the ponies around her were exchanging glances. Another loud clunk and the whole room lit up. She was in the middle of a forum, like the one Congress has, and she was in the middle of it. There were hundreds of ponies, sitting on the benches around her, each one clearly different from the other. But the ones directly in front of her caught her attention the strongest. There were eight in a special stand in front of her; two normal, two pegasi, two that had a horn, and two that had both wings and a horn, like the statue they were inside right now. The ones with both wings and a horn were the largest. One of them was white, the other a dark blue. Olivia also quickly recognized the six flanking them; they had lookalikes in Walter’s collection. “I suppose that you deserve to have answers, after you traveled this far,” the white horse admitted; she was the one whose voice boomed with authority. “You are no criminal. We were simply using the best interrogation technique we know.”
Olivia was about to give a snappy reply, but the feeling of a thousand eyes on her made her bite her tongue. “As for whom we are…” the horse continued, “We are the Council of Equestria, the rulers of this world.”
That made Olivia flinch. She knew that she was still in some form of America, but America having taken over the world? The idea scared her a little. “I am Princess Celestia,” the white horse introduced herself. “This is my little sister, Princess Luna.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the dark blue horse greeted.
“It’s… an honor, Princess…” Olivia managed to say, a little dumbstruck. America’s a monarchy in this world? That scared her too.
“So you have absolutely no idea what’s going on?” the lighter blue pegasus demanded to know, slamming her hooves on the bench.
“Secretary Dash!” Princess Celestia snapped.
“Geez, sorry…”
“Wait… Dash?” Olivia blurted out. “As in Rainbow Dash?”
Everyone froze, except for Dash, who grew a giddy smile on her face. “You’ve heard of me?” she gasped.
Olivia could have sworn she saw stars in her eyes. No… they were actually there. There were stars in Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “… Yeah, actually,” Olivia admitted, furrowing her brow.
“I’m interdimensionally famous!” Rainbow Dash cheered, leaping into the air. “Woohoo!”
The whole room was silent. Now those thousand eyes were on Rainbow Dash. “… So how do you know Secretary Dash?” Princess Celestia had to ask.
“… A friend of mine is crazy about a specific cartoon. To us humans, all of you are characters in that cartoon,” Olivia dropped the bomb.
Everyone quickly began exchanging glances and murmuring; all save for the pink pony flanking Princess Celestia, though. “Oh, yeah, I know,” she dismissed, with an unusually large grin on her face. “To us, you’re cartoon characters!”
“Right now the only reason I’m not surprised is because I’ve been surprised enough today,” was Olivia’s response. Even the seasoned FBI agent was losing her composure.
Princess Celestia cleared her throat, silencing the room. “Back to the topic at hand…” she began. “It appears neither of us have any information whatsoever on this incident.”
“Nope,” Olivia admitted. “I mean, there’s someone in my world that I know could help us… The only problem is that he can’t get here, not without wrecking the universe.”
“Then how did you get here?” Princess Luna asked.
“… There’s a chemical in my brain,” Olivia began to explain. “It lets me cross between universes, though I don’t have much left in me anymore. I’ve got enough to move back and forth, though.”
“Can you take one of us with you?” the purple unicorn asked.
“I’ve done it once, but I don’t think I can do it again.”
“I’ll go.”
All eyes turned to behind Olivia, where Savior stood. “I’ve done it too,” she reminded everyone. “I can cross over as a liaison, if that helps.”
“… Go,” Princess Celestia commanded. “You and Olivia Dunham are our best hopes.”
Spreading her wings, she then declared, “Council is dismissed!”

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

Rootbeer was humming to himself when Olivia and Savior came back through the door. “Ah!” he said as they came in. “How did the meeting with the Council go?”
“I’m… not sure what to think,” Olivia admitted. “Honestly, I’m still reeling a little from how they operate.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Savior tried to dismiss. “Anyway, the Council wants us to act as liaisons for our worlds.”
“There’s a problem, though,” Olivia admitted. “We can’t possibly keep going back and forth. We need some way to communicate between the two universes.”
“Well… any bright ideas?” Rootbeer asked.
“Yeah, actually,” Olivia answered. “There were a pair of typewriters that were quantum entangled; one of them is in our world, the other was in another universe. They were being used to communicate between the two universes, but we captured one while they were hostile to us. We’ve stopped using it ever since we’ve made peace with them, although we had to close our connections with them.”
Rootbeer’s eyes widened. “Quantum entanglement… that would work! Definitely!”
He quickly turned towards the office. “Astral!”
“Astrid?” Olivia gasped. “How’d she get here?”
A pegasus came trotting out of the office, instead, but with Astrid’s famous afro, wearing a blouse. “What is it, Rootbeer?” she asked, in Astrid’s voice.
“We’re going to need a…” Rootbeer began, but he stopped before finishing his sentence.
He quickly turned back to Olivia. “What’s a typewriter, Olivia?”
That was when Astrid-pony noticed Olivia, and promptly jumped, gasping. “I thought Rootbeer was just high again…” she squeaked.
“Oh, no, I’m real,” Olivia shook her head.
“A-anyway!” Rootbeer broke the silence. “We need some sort of machine that we can quantum entangle so we can communicate with Olivia’s universe… I’m not too sure what, though…”
“Want me to go speak with Walter about this?” Olivia suggested. “He might be able to come up with something. He’s probably watching us right now.”
“He’s watching us?” Rootbeer asked. “How?”
“We rebuilt a transuniversal window,” Olivia explained. “That’s how we found you guys to begin with.”
“That’s going to make me paranoid…” Astrid-pony muttered to herself.
Rootbeer’s eyes lit up. “Of course!” he suddenly shouted, and scampered off.
Everyone watched as he pulled up a hidden hatch in the floor, diving right in as it closed behind him. He came back up a few seconds later, carrying something with him. “Is this it?” he asked.
“Yes,” Olivia answered matter-of-factly.
Indeed it was, but with one difference; the screen was cracked, as if someone shot it. “What happened to it?” Olivia had to ask, though she already knew the answer.
“Oh, I, um…” Rootbeer stuttered. “I threw a block of salt at it… So do you think this can work for communication?”
“If we can get it working.”
“Fantastic!” Rootbeer proclaimed. “Astral! Knight! We’re going to need some new quarter-inch glass and my power tools!”
As Rootbeer scurried off, Olivia proclaimed, “I’m heading home, I’ve already sat through that thing being rebuilt once.”



A small splash and the loud clang of heavy metal doors opening filled the lab as Olivia reemerged from the sensory deprivation tank. “Olivia!” Peter shouted as he rushed over, helping the mentally exhausted Olivia out of the tank. “Are you alright?!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…” Olivia replied over a headache that felt like a tequila hangover. Peter wasn’t the only one who had one of those. “Glad to see another pair of hands…”
“I know you just got back, Olivia, but…” Astrid began, “this universe is one hand less now.”
Olivia looked up, still in her awkward position. “What do you mean?”
Astrid sighed. “There’s another.”


> Everything Has Its Place (INCOMPLETE)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

WARNING: CHAPTER IS INCOMPLETE. PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTES FIRST

“Hey, Liv… are you alright?”
“… apart from a minor headache and feeling like I can barely move, I’m alright,” Olivia snarked. “It’s not like I haven’t done crazier things before, Charlie.”
She was lying on top of an air mattress Peter set up for her, blanket and all, on top of the office table. “The elder Bishop tells me that you should be resting, but I need to ask you a few things,” her partner said, leaning over her slightly. “Does the pony universe know anything about what’s going on?”
Olivia shook her head. “Nope… For all they know, those two ponies vanished into thin air, literally.”
“Is that it? Nothing else that stood out to them as odd?”
“No, not really…” Olivia shook her head again. “Then again, what’s odd to them is normal to us, I bet…”
“I can imagine,” Charlie sympathized. “Honestly, I still couldn’t believe that I was staring at a pegasus that you were talking to. But seriously, is there nothing to go on?”
For a third time, Olivia shook her head. “No… ouch…”
“What’s wrong, Liv?”
“My headaches...” she moaned. “They’re getting worse.”
“I’ll let you rest,” Charlie said as he got up. “I’m going to do some investigating into the new merger. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Charlie walked out of the office, only to run into Walter. He was holding a plate piled high with sandwiches. “Oh, leaving already?” he asked, seemingly saddened by the idea.
“Yeah… I’ve got work to do,” Charlie answered, having already gotten used to Walter’s quirks. However, as if ravenous, he eyed the plate in Walter’s hands. “What’s in those sandwiches, though?”
“Peanut butter and bacon!”
“Care to box some for me? It’s a long ride to Philadelphia,” the iron-hearted Charlie grinned.
“Philadelphia?” Walter asked. “Isn’t that where Ms. Nimoy studied?”
“Yeah, and our newest victim,” Charlie answered. “I’m going to check out his dorm room, see if there’s anything strange he was up to.”
“Then do you mind if I come along?” Walter asked, leading Peter and Astrid, who were messing with something in the back of the lab, to exchange glances.
“… Leave the pot behind.”

DREXEL UNIVERSITY

The key turned in the lock, and the door creaked open as Charlie and Walter stepped in. “Name’s Alex Laplace,” Charlie began, as Walter looked around. “Eighteen years old, computer science major like Tara Nimoy. He was studying for an exam when he transformed, right in front of his roommate. We’ve sent him to Massive Dynamic too for a quick checkup.”
Walter said nothing, as he spotted something over Alex’s closet. “He’s a brony too?!” he gasped as he picked up one of those familiar dolls, specifically the Twilight Sparkle one.
With a giddy smile, he looked over towards Charlie. “I think he and I are going to get along very well.”
“… Yeah,” Charlie lied. “You two would get along just fine.”
Walter put the toy back down. “So… why are we here again?” he asked.
“I’ve told you six times, Dr. Bishop,” Charlie reminded him. “We’re here to see if Laplace was up to anything that may have triggered his transformation.”
“Right, right…” Walter sighed, looking around the room. “Something that could have triggered his transformation…”
Charlie let Walter glance around for a bit, leaning on the door. Walter took a look at one of the desks; clearly Alex’s, as it was as clean as his side of the room. “What do you think we’re looking for?” Charlie asked, as Walter began to rifle through his stuff.
“I am looking for whatever drugs he might have,” Walter answered, closing a drawer. “College students these days tend to have some of the best hiding places.”
“About that…”
“Who knows?” Walter interrupted, looking back up at Charlie. “Whatever he’s taking might be the key to solving this.”
“You won’t find any drugs on him.”
Walter stopped. “What?” he asked, a shocked look on his face.
“Laplace swore blind he wouldn’t ever touch that stuff,” Charlie explained, “a statement his roommate backs up. He won’t even touch beer.”
“That’s noble of him…” Walter muttered to himself.
“So what do you think we’re looking for?” Charlie asked. “Some sort of machine, maybe?”
“I wouldn’t think so…” Walter admitted. “We didn’t find anything with Ms. Nimoy, anything that would have triggered it. It would have to be something related to the universes by itself, by process of elimination…”
“So do you think our universe is breaking down again?” Charlie asked. “Please tell me you won’t have to whip out that amber stuff.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Walter shook his head with a smile. “Amber is meant only for use with vortexes, not fringe events. Even if the situation was that bad, it wouldn’t warrant the use of that infernal material.”
“Phew…” Charlie sighed. “I’d hate to get covered in that stuff.”
“It’s much worse than you can imagine,” Walter somberly explained, as if he had been in it. “At least, so I hear.”
Then he stood back up. “And no, I don’t believe our universe is breaking down.”
He began to look around some more. “What could I use to demonstrate it here…?”
Walter suddenly spotted a small notebook. “Ah!” he exclaimed, picking it up and tearing out an empty page. “Watch this.”
He pulled out a lighter, and promptly lit the paper on fire. “What’re you doing?!” Charlie panicked, taking the paper and throwing it on the ground.
He stomped it repeatedly, extinguishing the flame. “Are you trying to cause a panic?” he asked, calming down.
“Take a look at the paper,” Walter said.
Charlie lifted his ash-covered shoe. “It’s just a burned piece of paper,” Charlie noted.
“That’s the thing,” Walter explained. “If the universe was breaking down again, the paper wouldn’t burn. It would become brittle and fall apart.”
“As if it was frozen?” Charlie asked.
“Exactly. We did the opposite with osmium and liquid nitrogen; you were there, remember?”
“Yeah,” Charlie confirmed. “So the universe isn’t falling apart. What haven’t we thought of?”
He took a few tentative steps around the room. “What would cause someone to suddenly transform…?” he mulled to himself.
Meanwhile, Walter had begun rifling through Alex’s stuff again. All of his stuff had some level of order to it, and everything had its place, unlike his roommate's side of the room. He finally reached the bottom drawer, and pulled out a bag of red vines. “Ooh, my favorite!” Walter exclaimed, taking two. “I hope he won’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t, Dr. Bis-…” Charlie didn’t have a chance to finish that sentence as Walter took a bite of one. Sighing, he shook his head. “Just don’t take any more. We should stay focused on task here.”
“Yes, yes, you’re right…” he agreed, putting the rest back. “But I no longer think simply standing here will give us any answers.”
“So what do you think we do?” Charlie asked, again.
“… We should call Peter,” Walter suggested. “Perhaps they’ve figured out a way to communicate with the third universe.”
Nodding, Charlie reached for his phone, when suddenly, it rang. Picking it up, he smirked before showing Walter the caller ID; Peter Bishop. “What a coincidence,” Walter smiled.
Charlie only smiled as he accepted the call. “Agent Francis,” he said.
“Hey, Charlie, can you put me on speakerphone? You and Walter will want to hear this,” Peter asked. For some reason, the call was grainier than usual.
“Sure, one second.”
A quick tap on his smartphone’s screen, and Peter’s voice came over the speaker. “Walter, it turns out we didn’t need to do anything,” he said. “They have their own version of the transuniversal window you built. Astrid managed to make first contact using a chalkboard, and it is really freaky to be chatting with a pony version of myself.”
“So do they have any information we can use?” Charlie asked.
“So far, no. They’re asking about our own progress.”
“Peter…” Walter began. “Tell them that we have no new information for them. There is nothing here that could trigger it, and I feel that it has more to do with their universe instead of ours.”
There was silence for a few moments. Excruciating, painful, tense silence. Peter’s voice came back over the phone, breaking it like a sledgehammer to a frozen lock. “We pissed them off.”
“Great,” Charlie sighed. “These didn’t have to get harder to solve than perfect murders.”
“Now where would the fun be in that?” Walter asked with a smile.
“What fun?”
“You know, it’s fun, running around trying to figure out who blew up someone’s head using some crazy chemical,” Walter retorted, giddily.
“Only you could have so much fun with that stuff,” Charlie quietly muttered.
“Wait, we got something more,” Peter’s voice continued. “Walter-pony thinks that you may be right. There’s some sort of incident going on over there, something widespread. Maybe you should get back here, Walter. This sounds important.”
“Broyles is going to kill me for wasting so much gas…” Charlie sighed.
“Actually, Charlie, you might want to stay there,” Peter suggested. “From what he’s saying, I think there’s a soft spot forming where you’re standing.”
“A soft spot?!” Walter gawked. “Why, that’s impossible! Soft spots normally don’t form inside buildings! Really, only fringe events can occur within buildings!”
“I’m thinking this one was formed artificially.”
“Artificially?” Charlie asked. “Like hell I’m staying here, then. I’m clearing the whole block.”
“No, Charlie, don’t. You’re just going to cause a mass panic. Why don’t you go ahead and check on its status? I’m pretty sure Walter went and…”
A hissing sound filled the room, like an aerosol can being sprayed. Charlie looked up to see Walter covering the room in a thick mist with something from a silver can. Then, inexplicably, he pulled out what looked like a floodlight on a handle, and turned it on. Pink bolts were suddenly visible, as if there were two tesla coils in the room, but they were… gentle. Serene. “There’s a soft spot in here, alright,” Walter concluded. “But it’s benign. This isn’t strong enough to cause a fringe event like this.”
Charlie’s eyes, however, wandered back to the dolls on Alex’s closet. “I think I know something strong enough to do just that.”
He turned back to his phone. “Everything in every universe has a counterpart, right?”
“Yeah, why ask?”
“Do you think Walter’s toys have a counterpart in the ponies’ world?”
“What are you thinking?”
“Do you remember a case where a widow and her alternate husband nearly tore a hole in the universes with their love for each other?" Charlie asked.
"Why... yes," Walter admitted. "I still have nightmares over even considering amber for such a situation."
"What if it was Laplace liking these ponies that got him merged with his pony counterpart?"

MASSIVE DYNAMIC RESIDENCES

"Mr. Laplace, tell us about the dolls in your room."
The half-horse hybrid across the glass table sighed. His hair was both black and two tones of blue, whatever horse parts of him were blue, and he had a horn growing from his forehead. His tail was messy, and also two shades of blue. "... Are you aware of the TV show that goes with them?" he asked.
"Yeah... somewhat," Charlie unenthusiastically responded.
"Then I can save you the spiel," Alex explained. "It's really just merchandise from that show. I just like having them, that's all. Makes that drab room a little more vibrant."
"Makes sense," Charlie nodded, then leaned forward, not as if trying to sweat him, but in curiosity. "How much do you like them?"
Alex thought for a couple of seconds, scrunching his face. Inside, he wanted to admit viewing... less than tasteful pictures of ponies, and he wanted to claim that it was for research. "I write fanfiction about them, and I've tried my hand at drawing them," he explained. "I'm not like some of the more extreme bronies, who would fill their room past bursting with that kind of stuff."
Charlie caught the scrunch, but didn't pursue it. Alex wasn't downplaying himself, he knew that much. He'd seen some images of some bronies' rooms, and Alex definitely wasn't exaggerating. He'd also stumbled upon those less than tasteful pictures himself, though different ones. He was still trying to convince himself that that uncomfortable lump in his pants was his gun in his pocket. "You also created a virtual pet of one, didn't you?" Charlie asked. "Like one of those Tamagotchi things?"
"... Yeah..." Alex admitted nervously. "It was a project, and the best material I could find for it."
"Well, at least yours was family-friendly," Charlie admitted. "Can I see some of your drawings?"
"Sure," Alex agreed, getting up.
Limping a little from having to deal with both a foot and a hoof, he sat down at the computer Massive Dynamic had provided him, turning it on. "I still wonder why Massive Dynamic won't let me at least tell my parents I'm still alive," he said as the computer booted up.
"Frankly, we don't want news of your condition getting out, especially seeing as we can't predict who's next," Charlie explained. "We'd cause mass panic."
"Makes sense," Alex agreed as he opened the web browser.
Typing with one hand, he accessed a website that Drexel had clearly provided him. "All CS students get their own website and shell client," he explained. "It's really useful for data transfer."
The website quickly came up. It was extremely plain, with a bunch of links. "There's one drawing I really want to call attention to, though," Alex said.
He clicked on a link labeled "Shooting Star, attempt 2". It brought him to nothing more than a single image. The image was a crudely-drawn pony in pencil and black ink. What was shocking, though, is that it looked just like his horse parts. "Can I download that?" Charlie quickly asked.
"Sure," Alex agreed. "What are you going to do with it?"
"I've gotta show it to someone."

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

Charlie quickly came storming back into the lab, carrying a piece of paper with him. "Farnsworth!" he called, scaring practically everyone in the room. Poor Gene mooed as Walter jumped mid-milking, painfully tugging at her udder. "I gotta show something to the other side!"
"Uh, sure," Astrid got up, moving back over to the chalkboard by the transuniversal window.
Charlie peered through the window. There, he saw Rootbeer, Knight, and Savior, all of them staring through their own version. Astral, on the other hand, was standing in front of a chalkboard, which messages were scrawled over. Charlie held up the drawing and told Astrid, "Ask if they know this pony."
"Give it to me," Astrid said, taking the image and holding it up to thin air, then wrote DO YOU KNOW THIS PONY? on the chalkboard behind her.
Charlie watched as, silently, Rootbeer told Astral something. Getting up off the ground, she began to write something on the board. "First time I've seen a horse fly..." Charlie admitted.
"Join the club," Astrid snarked.
Astral moved, revealing a new message; YES. HE VANISHED TOO.
“So this pony’s his alternate,” Charlie mumbled to himself.
He picked up one of Walter’s toys, a pink one, to which Walter came storming out. “Put that back, Agent Francis!” he shouted. “It took me fifteen minutes to properly position Pinkie Pie!”
“I’ll put it back,” Charlie waved him off.
He gave it to Astrid. “Ask if they have their own version of this stuff in their world,” he ordered.
Charlie went to take a look back at the screen while Astrid began to write on the chalkboard again. As Astrid finished, he saw the ponies look at each other. Savior said something, then darted off screen. “Where’d she go?” Charlie asked.
Astrid walked over, turning the window. The image moved too, but Savior was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, they heard a rising, whooshing sound. “What’s that?” Charlie asked, looking around.
“That sounds like Olivia crossing over…” Walter responded tentatively.
Suddenly, they all heard a loud splash, coming from the sensory deprivation tank. In curiosity, they all took careful steps towards it, Charlie drawing his gun. “Don’t tell me…” Walter breathed.
Charlie reached out to open the tank… and something pink burst out of it. Charlie screamed, nearly shooting whatever came out. “Hi there!” a familiar voice shouted.
Charlie couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him was a pink, blonde-haired pony that looked surprisingly like Olivia with her hair down, floating in the air with a pair of wings.