Somewhere below, she was running.

Down the poorly lit corridor of stones, Dash sprinted for her life into the bottomless maw. Her eyes, barely accustomed to the surrounding darkness, could only make out the vague turns and angles in proximity, but not the colour of the cave she found herself in.

Unless, of course, you count black as a colour.

She didn’t know where she was headed, nor what she was fleeing. Aside from her underdeveloped wing muscles squeezing what little strength they had into her getaway, the only thing she felt was the sticky atmosphere, filled with invisible, intangible anxiety. It seemed to drag down on her mane and tail, trying to pull her back.

There wasn’t any sound, not even the clip-clop of her hooves on the firm floor. Wondering, Dash dared a glimpse behind herself. What was behind her was worse than the familiar darkness ahead; it was nothing, absolute void, where her gasping for air was not echoed. It might as well have been the abyss.

In the disheartening reign of silence, Dash put all she had into her hooves. The path below her hooves was paved with a mixture of bricks and stones. It was level, but just as coarse, to the point where each step was a teeth-gritting scratch on the frog of her hooves.

From the dominating emptiness came a chime of a clocktower, barely distinguishable.

A sliver of light sipped from the depth of Dash’s confinement. She forced her legs to go even faster, despite weariness invading every inch of her limbs. She couldn’t stop now, not when she had finally found a symbol of hope. Her breaths sped up, her hooves felt shattered, her joints screamed, and she could taste blood in her mouth.

The light was expanding, as the chime she heard turned clearer, faster, and higher in pitch, almost like a set of tiny bells.

Dash embraced the light.

Then she opened her eyes to find the sun shining on her sweat-stained face.

Oh, she had woken up.

　AM 8:59, Sunday, Week 138
　South Accord District, Timefold, Worldline O1-02

A quick shower and a metro ride later, Fuse stepped out of Polytechnic station. She looked up at the clocktower that stood in the centre of the city, where giant hands were moving without ever a break to keep track of the passage of time. Right now, the minute hand was pointed upwards, off by just a hair. So, one minute to nine, the pegasus guessed as she squinted her magenta eyes to make out the faraway minute marks.

Time above all — a saying as metaphorical as it was physical here in Timefold, but the thing about the city’s residents is that they also know how to enjoy wasting time. The spring was just arriving and the air in the morning was still chill, perfect for winged creatures to frolic while those who preferred a leisure walk could enjoy exactly that.

By the Pale Tower’s Standard Calendar, it was Sunday, so most ponies she came across were on break. The city gave off an energy of relaxation, warming up Fuse from within.

A deep ring of the giant clocktower bell unfolded itself in the air, carving the passing of another hour into the world. So I was right. Fuse’s eyes wandered back onto the clock face above, foalish smugness topping her up.

Fuse, however, had no time for any of those.

Fuse.

She still hadn’t gotten used to calling herself that, as she was known as Dash in her world.

At birth, Rainbow Dash was gifted a pair of deformed wings. They were so weak and useless that even Dash herself frequently referred to them as “chicken wings”.

It might have been to protect Dash from weird looks, or maybe it had been their own weird looks, either way, the two pegasi that Dash was born to decided to leave her at an apple farm in a tiny town below Cloudsdale and then disappeared.

Dash was only 37 hours and 50 minutes old, she would have died if not for the Apples.

Rainbow Dash-Apple grew up in Ponyville, protected by Big Mac, rivalled by Applejack, and respected by Apple Bloom.

She had never visited Cloudsdale in her life, so the first time she saw anypony actually good at flying was when the Wonderbolts held their performance in Ponyville.

Even now, she recalled that she had been riding on her brother’s back and looking up at the sky. Smoke and thunder claimed the dome as agile figures in blue spandex danced dangerously, a dexterous display by the daredevils that determined Dash’s destiny.

She dreamt of flying by the top flyers in Equestria, as freely as the world had ever seen.

But she could never fly on her own. After one hundred and fifty-three leaps from an apple tree and finally breaking both of her forelegs, Dash learnt it the hard way. She turned her eyes to outside aids.

All the bits she had saved, plus a bonus from carrying Rarity’s saddlebag for a month, were spent on a box of spare parts. Putting those together with scraps she found around the farm, her calling to the sky, and lots of grease spots on her coat, the rainbow-maned filly managed to build the first wearable flight engine in Equestria.

The day of the test flight was 180 days after her first encounter with the Wonderbolts, and the results said it wouldn’t be her last. The flow of fate was changed in one day: Dash was a flightless pegasus, but she was the only pony alive to perform a Sonic Rainboom, too.

The miracle wasn’t without a price, though. Lightning MkI, her beloved creation of applewood, metal, gemstones, and passions, exploded into fume and garbage two seconds after landing.

The story soon caught the wind. Discharged from hospital, Dash was sent directly to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns as an auditor in Practical Enchantment.

She enjoyed her school days with all eyes on her and replied with world-changing utility of her talents: She ameliorated the steam engine, not long before inventing thaumaturgical motor. Not only did she open up the sky for all ponies, but she also reduced the journey time between Manehattan and Canterlot from 35 hours to 9 hours.

She never became a member of the Wonderbolts, but she was invited to fly with them on her eighteenth birthday. The sunset was magnificent in Canterlot that day, and Spitfire and Wind Rider being her wing ponies made it the best day of her life.

Then came what the timeline experts dubbed the “anchor event” of her life: Visiting her family, she ran into a lavender unicorn, and the sun didn’t come up the next day.

Nightmare Moon, Queen Chrysalis, Discord, King Sombra, then Queen Chrysalis again. Dash and her friends became the heroines of Equestria.

One day, a squad of ponies arrived from beyond the universe. Her world became Worldline T1-34 and her Equestria, an ally to the Pale Tower.

Dash was the first to submit her registration at the Pale Tower. She promised her family that she would come back just as always. She told her friends to pursue the sky unique to each of them. She left the disowned, broken, and sensitive pegasus filly to seek new adventures in Fuse’s life.

Fuse. She’s Fuse now.

She was so entranced in the turning of the seconds that she stopped in her track until a familiar voice broke her out.

“Hey, Fuse, you alright?”

Fuse turned her eyes from the clock to the spectrum of mane and cyan horn in front of her. “P- Prism? Good morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, a good morning that will be gone if you stand here any longer. You don’t want to be late for your first mission on Theta-Fourteen, now do you?” The unicorn raised her eyebrows, smirking teasingly at Fuse, an expression Fuse was very familiar with. Usually, though, it was on her face, not anypony else.

“Well, I…” Fuse averted Prism’s gaze awkwardly. Instinctively, she meant to spread the wings that were on her back but cut herself out before take-off. She let out a sigh and resumed trudging to her destination.

Prism chased up to Fuse’s side, her smirk turning into a smile. “Nah, just messing with you. Should look at your own face.” She gave a snicker, winking. “No worries, though. We all had a phase when we moved to Timefold, to under the Pale Tower. You’ll get used to the daze real quick.” Her horn lit up to pull a bottle from her saddleback and float it in front of Fuse. “Hey, try this. It’s a specialty from Worldline O-Nine-Twenty-nine that’ll kick you up. Can’t go into a mission looking down, right?”

Fuse stared at the rippling off-green liquid, wide-eyed. “Minty tea? I’ll pass. Mints are too strong for me.” She shook her head thankfully. “Seeing you should have driven the point home in my head; technically you’re me, but you are a unicorn. That should keep me up for a decade or two…”

“It’s Quartz Mint and it costs a wing, even with the Dots paying us an awesome allowance.” Prism tucked her tea back, adjusting her bag. “And talk about multiversal culture shocks!” She spared a glance at the Nexus Tower and picked up her pace. “I never knew I’m still ‘the one and only’ Archmage Prism Dynamite even when I visit the multiverse! Can you imagine that?”

Fuse followed the unicorn, chuckling, her anxiety arrested by the light chat. “Of course we pegasi are more impressive than you flashy, show-offish unicorns!”

A pearl white unicorn was passing by and gave Fuse looks of disapproval.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re way more awesome than poor old me.” Fuse didn’t need to be a counterpart to hear the playful sarcasm in Prism’s words. “My horn’s only good for a dozen of gaudy magic tricks.”

Up for a snarky fight? Two can play the game, I guess. Fuse felt the corners of her lips curling upwards. “Well said. Y’all are as soft as apple mushes, a baby pegasus can take ten in one fight.”

“Does that include all copies of Fluttershy?” Prism raised a brow.

“Ever tried picking on her critters?”

“Fair. Have I introduced you to Doctor Loo, though? Orange coat, germophobic, cute as a citrine quartz?”

“She’s an exception and you of all should know it!” Fuse shook her head frowning. “She’s more Fluttershy than Scootaloo and I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to treat an enemy on the battlefield. If a war breaks out, that is.”

Prism pouted, her attention taken by the display the two just passed by. The volcanite staff seemed a great addition to her collection, but the price tag was all it took to dissuade her. “Excuse me? ‘An exception’? Doesn’t that disprove any hypothesis for good?”

“Eeyup, one point to the royal archnerd,” Fuse replied in a sing-song tone. “Can the archnerd take it from me, though?” At that, her walk escalated into running, a breeze of rainbow in her wake.

“It’s ‘archmage’, I’ll have you know!”

Prism’s protest fell on deaf ears as Fuse raced forwards.

She resigned and shook her head. Got to chase that girl down. The DoFC’s down this street.

　AM 9:12, Sunday, Week 138
　Department of First Contact, Timefold, Worldline O1-02

Fuse pushed her way in. “G- good morning, everyone.” She swallowed a lump down her throat and looked around at the ponies in the room. “Hope I’m not late for the mission.”

Two alicorns of identically lavender fur turned from the console table to her.

“Good morning… Fuse.” The one with glasses and wearing a navy jacket answered shortly before turning back to double-check everything on the finite differentiator, her blue eyes fixed on the screen. “You’re not late. Please take a seat.”

“Morning.” The one with black straps over her torso and forelegs greeted, floating a kettle up. “Coffee?”

“Not a habit, so nope. Thank you, though.” Fuse took a yellow cushion in the corner.

She had met the members of First Contact Squad Theta-14 in the interview last Tuesday, but to sit among them as they — herself included — prepare to enter a new world, that’s overwhelmingly surreal for Fuse.

The two Twilights were already a sign of what’s to come. Compared to the Twilight she was familiar with, Strategist Timelight was much too precautious, while Captain Crepusca appeared to be way more active.

Behind her, Prism opened the door. Sweet aroma of caramel and foam filled the room. “Morning to all!” She took a glance over the room. “Where’s Kick-ass? Overslept?”

“She’s gone to file a complaint on today’s security guy. Said ‘he was making a problem from nowhere’ or what, I wasn’t listening hard.” Timelight sighed. “Considering how often she forgets her I.D., eventually she will be blocked out. We told her the security team are getting out of their way to let her in, but she never listened.”

Prism just shrugged at the comment, sneaking up on the orange pegasus in a trimmed white coat. “Morning to my angel in white.” She greeted the medic gently, pulling her into a hug.

“What did we agree on the… public display?” A Scootaloo well in her twenties deadpanned, pushing at her forelegs. “Save it for after the mission, shall we?”

“Okay, okay, Doctor Loo, Master Loo, Scholar Loo. I just thought you’d appreciate a hug after half a morning shift.” Prism smiled evilly and went to ruin Doctor’s manestyle. At her lover’s glares, she just looked away and whistled innocently.

Watching the pair’s squabble, Crepusca smiled fondly. She seemed to be drinking the fuzziness in. After a while, she addressed her double. “Still, Kick-ass has been a reliable air force. That’s why we still cover up for her, isn’t it, Timelight?”

Timelight rolled her eyes. “Not always. What if she makes one of those mistakes on a mission? That would undo everything.” She finished with a few taps and turned around. “Sorry for the delay, Fuse. Maybe take this time to go through your devices. I’ll open the portal as soon as Kick-ass is back and ready.” She took her glasses off to wipe at the lenses with magic. “I’m sorry this happens on your first mission with us. I’ll talk with Kick-ass after this.”

In the opposite corner, a plum unicorn, whose horn was broken, had been reading a tome quietly. The mare had opened her mouth a few times during the conversation, but chosen not to speak up. She finally decided to interrupt, though.

“With all due respect, Strategist Timelight and Captain Crepusca, may I have a word?” She kept her voice level and respectful, yet assertive enough to carry on without either acknowledging her. “From what I gather, Kick-ass isn’t complaining about the security at the gate, but the recruit at screening, who I believe goes under the codename ‘Firewall’. He demanded that Kick-ass take off her equipment for examining, leading to the quarrel.”

Crepusca blinked. “In that case, Speaker, maybe —”

“In that case, maybe he should reconsider the job!” The orange thundercloud barged in as the door slammed open. She stomped with every step, showing her anger. “He must know how hard it is to put on a flight suit, but he just had to ‘look through everything’, what the hay?!” She stood at the centre of the room, seeping of rampage and huffing through her teeth, before cursing loudly. “That mule!”

A moment of silence, when no one was able to come up with anything to ease the shaking Wonderbolt of her rage. The only sounds to be heard were her hissing breaths and the droning of arcane circuits in the differentiator.

“Please understand, Kick-ass,” Speaker began tersely, “that Firewall wasn’t being personal. He’s just new to the ropes and is learning.”

“If he likes to feel like Prince Shining Armor that much, he should go back and try making Flurry a brother or sister —”

“What’s wrong with you?” Doctor Loo pushed Prism aside and jumped up. “He was trying to be a good security, and what are you doing now?”

“I’m —!” Kick-ass gave a flap of her agitated wings, before turning aside without another word.

Fuse tried to start a different conversation. “Um, hello, Kick-ass,” said she slowly, “I’m —”

“Fuse.” Kick-ass interrupted her intro. “We’ve met before. I know you and you know me, so cut to the chase. — Is this your stand-in for your wings?” She drew closer and gestured to the metallic wings and two pairs of jet engines on Fuse’s back. “Seems fine to me. How fast can they fly?”

At the mention of her (currently) greatest invention, Fuse cracked a proud smile. “Falcon Mark Six, maximum flight rate at four point two Mach, subsonic endurance at twenty-four hours. The best thing about this generation is the dual recharge system, which I —”

“Blah, blah, encabulatorialitivityness or what, I don’t care.” Kick-ass didn’t wait for her to finish. “As long as you fly, you’re good in my book. Who’s the Rainbow Dash here? First we got a mage, now here you are. How come both Dashes on this squad are lecturers like Twilights?”

Fuse scowled inwardly. She could see that Timelight and Crepusca weren’t happy, either. Why does she have to be this rude? Is she like that to her own Rainbow Dash? I’m a mechanist, not a Wonderbolt, so how does it matter if I fly fast or not? She let out a heated snort. “Fine, I’ll know to cut my tech talks next time — when are we leaving, Timelight?”

“Ready when you are.” Timelight spun her chair around, hit a few keys on the board, and picked up her headphones. “One last quick check, girls, and I’ll send you on the way.”

Kick-ass pulled her goggles up and raced to the portal generator. “I’m always ready, unless somepony messes around.”

Prism pulled her saddlebag tighter and inserted two shards of crystal in her fetlock-band. “Ready.”

Doctor put on a facial mask and medical goggles before zipping up her bag. “Ready,” came her voice muffled by the mask.

Crepusca opened her saddlebag to fish out a bright yellow bracelet. “Ready.”

Speaker simply put away her book. “I’m ready.”

Fuse felt her chest tightening and her hooves, numb, as she lined up. She took a deep breath, then flipped the engine starters with her tiny wings. The Thaumarcanal Fluctuation Compound Engine tapped into her wings’ intrinsic mana reserve, humming like a whisper. “Thank you for having me. I’m ready.”

“Briefing’s up.” Timelight called up a file. “Foreign Worldline X-Forty-Seventy-seven. Connected on Friday, Week one-thirty-eight. Preliminary observation suggests equine civilisation. First contact mission tasked to FCS Theta-Fourteen. Risk assessment at moderate. Captain Crepusca?”

“Yes,” replied Crepusca, looking ahead.

“We’re not expecting dangers, but practise caution like always. The Brake Brace is available in case of emergency. Use it at your discretion.”

“Understood.” Crepusca peeked at her right forehoof, where the bracelet in bright yellow lay.

“And… Prism, Fuse, you will come back safely.”

Fuse blinked in confusion. What did she mean?

“Starting the portal in three —” The tall frame of portal generator glowed up. Fuse could hear a chime of clocktower from it.

“Two —” Brighter and clearer were the light and sound.

“One —” The device radiated a blinding white, streamers of all colours waltzing within. The chime came again and again.

The next moment, with one last, strongest ring, the light went off into a translucent barrier between the room and a town, soundly asleep in the morning.

The two fighters, Kick-ass and Prism, stepped through, followed by Doctor, then Crpusca and Speaker.

The only two left were Fuse and Timelight. Fuse found her legs trembling in front of the looming portal; she was getting cold-hooves.

The alicorn looked from the console. “Don’t go so hard on yourself.” Her voice was soothing as honey tea. “Everypony has a first time. You’ve got us on your team.”

Fuse nodded slightly and took a second deep breath, closing her eyes.

Then she hurried through.

　Time Unspecified
　Location Unspecified, Worldline X-4077

With a crisp chime, the portal closed and disappeared behind Fuse, inciting a shiver down her spine.

We are alone in a strange world now.

The thought came out of nowhere, but once Fuse had had it, she couldn’t get rid of it. Damp and icy air drifted across her back as she inspected the sky above.

Half of the dome was painted in a veil of violet darkness, while a dimly lit amber bled into the far end.

[Everypony, do you copy me?] came Timelight’s voice through Fuse’s earphones, reminding her of a line from the portal chapter in the orientation booklet:

To prevent unexpected trespassing of DoFC, the portal will remain closed to matters and information during normal operations with the exception of special wavelengths for communication.

That gave her much relief. With the knowledge that an experienced mare was on the other side, overseeing their safety, the unknown land in front of her seemed less intimidating. Fuse turned her eyes to the town not far away.

The town was surprisingly familiar, only fast asleep. The sun’s climb up was slow, made visible only with the motley collection of long shadows it cast onto the plains.

“Loud and clear,” replied Crepusca into her earphone. “We arrived near an unidentified settlement. Now moving to enter.”

It wasn’t long before the six arrived on the dusty streets, overgrown and blurred. Aside from hoofsteps, no sound was around. The entire town appeared gloomy.

As the squad slowed down entering the vicinity, Speaker took her time to look around. Fuse found the diplomat/linguist pausing at the few signboards hanging from walls and roofs, all covered in a layer of dust.

“The language in use mostly lines up with the Baseline Equestrian,” confirmed Speaker after a moment, with a courtesy cough, “and the building conforms to equine bodies as well.”

Crepusca nodded at the observation, but decided to move on silently. A few more minutes were spent in silence before they came to a pause in front of a fountain. Judging by the looks of it, they probably reached the town’s centre. Speaker squeezed between Kick-ass and Prism to read from the brass plaque screwed into stone.

“Aside from how they write a couple of letters and spell ‘by’, I can read the inscriptions perfectly fine,” she stated and turned around, raising her head to look over the thatched houses when, suddenly, something else seemed to catch her eyes.

From what Fuse saw on the others’ faces, apparently everypony except Kick-ass noticed Speaker’s reaction.

“Over there, what do you see?” Speaker asked as she lifted a hoof to point at somewhere above ground.

Following her direction, Fuse turned to find a mountain stretching tall towards the heaven, enshrouded with clouds and mists. From behind the veil of vapour, a mountainside city showed its glory: castles and spires, lavender and golden, adorned by the sunlight and shadows into a pointless artwork. She couldn’t help but spurt out, “I see Canterlot!”

“Yes, Canterlot, or at least what we know as Canterlot,” Speaker confirmed, then gestured at the town surrounding them. “Combining that with the architectural style here, we can place ourselves at…”

“Ponyville,” continued Crepusca, spreading her wings to take over.

“There’s something obviously wrong in this version of Ponyville, though. Could you tell me what it is, Fuse?”

Fuse snapped her head to Crepusca and found herself eye-to-eye with the captain’s violet eyes. Something? I’d say there’s nothing right here…

[Crepusca, I don’t think now’s a good time for orientation quizzes,] urged Timelight. [Please just tell us if you notice something anomalous.]

Crepusca, still staring into Fuse’s eyes, was starting to unnerve her. “I don’t think we’re at immediate risks, so I’d like her to take a guess.”

Fuse averted her burning gaze, choosing to look around instead. With the day just beginning, everything was pale in colour in this still drowsy town.

Even straining her ear, she couldn’t hear a thing beyond the ponies around her. A quiet and calm daybreak, just like what she remembered of her Ponyville.

In autumn days, the brother and sisters would pull a cart full of freshly-picked apples to the marketplace just in time for the waking daylight and fill the neighbourhood with the sweet taste of harvest. In the springs, she would run and frolic with her family, early in the morning, their laughter rousing townsponies, who would then yell at the Apples.

Beautiful mornings, just like this one…

But something was missing. What could that be?

Fuse felt her eye widen as realisation struck. She turned to Crepusca. “I get it. There’s no pony here.” Her answer was in a murmur.

“No what now?” Kick-ass drew closer, a disbelieving frown on her face. “When the cap asks you a question, you’ve gotta answer loud and clear, got it, gal?”

“Fine, I said” — Fuse raised both her head and voice — " that we haven’t seen a soul here. It’s strange enough, not having farmers roaming the market, but no weather ponies doing the morning shift? Not even one of them early risers? Something must be very wrong for Ponyville to be like this.”

Kick-ass got off Fuse, rubbing her chin with one wing. “Now that you mentioned it…”

“It’s exactly what I had in mind.” Crepusca nodded her approval. “Good catch, Fuse. As early as the day is, an empty town is definitely an anomaly.” She turned around to point her hoof at the surroundings. “Do we notice how most buildings are out of maintenance and how the roads are more like a meadow? This town isn’t just quiet. It’s silent.”

Speaker immediately followed through. “Which means this town is long deserted.” At that, she fell into a speechless contemplation.

That doesn’t sound right… Fuse frowned.

“That doesn’t sound right,” said Prism, lighting her horn just in case. “How many deserted Ponyvilles have we encountered so far?”

[This is the first one,] supplied Timelight, also sounding confused. [Most worldlines see their anchor events involving Ponyville. Chronological studies show high relevance in anchor events and stability across the history grid, so Ponyville is rarely left empty.]

“Not to mention earth ponies aren’t known to give up their homeland easily.” Speaker began pacing in a circle on the gravelled street, a solemn look on her face. “It takes a major, life-changing scenario to depopulate a settlement as important as Ponyville. Would that be a technological breakthrough, or a natural disaster?”

Kick-ass, though, didn’t seem to be worried. She took off into mid-air, scanning around without a care. “Not too fast, I’d say. It still could just be the locals are lazy, right?” She drew a deep breath and held her head up.

“Wait —” tried Speaker but she was too late.

“HELLO! ANYPONY HOME?”

Doctor scowled and covered her ears, sighing. The shout threatened to pierce Fuse’s eardrum, prompting her to cover her own, too.

Crepusca put a silencing bubble around the wayward pegasus and pulled her down by the tail. “Cut it, Kick-ass. I’m having a bad feeling about this worldline, so I don’t want any of us to draw unwanted attention.” She then addressed the console mare. “Timelight, please report a caution for risk assessment and request further computation from the Dots. We need to learn when X-Forty-Seventy-seven first deviated from Baseline History.”

[Roger that.] After a moment, Timelight added, [Result coming out in ten to twenty minutes. The Dots advises you to stay alert and collect more intel at your discretion.]

Everything seemed to have become darker since Speaker’s reasoning. Crepusca kept her horn as a flashlight. Looking at the fountain they’re staying by, Fuse suddenly realised that it was empty of water.

If she felt any comfort from recognising her hometown, it was long gone, now that Timelight and Speaker painted an unnerving picture of what might have happened.

She pulled on the controller on her flight engine, coaxing an audible humming of mana out of it as her hooves left the ground. Only when flying under her own power, could she find some confidence to brave the alien world.

“Seeing as we’re not in immediate danger, I propose a split-up,” ordered Crepusca. “We’ll investigate nearby homes in trios, centred on the fountain. Kick-ass and Speaker, you’re on my team; we sweep away from where we came. Doctor, I’m putting you in charge of the two Rainbows and sweep towards the portal site. Timelight, keep our teams communicated.”

“Got it.” Doctor nodded, pulled out a pack of facial masks from her bag, and distributed it among the squad. “It doesn’t seem likely, but I can’t rule out a plague yet. If that was what wiped this town off, we’ll need to be prepared against the residue pathogen.” She turned around to look at Prism and Fuse. “Ladies, follow me.”

Fuse took her mask and fumbled to put it on. When she was finished, she saw Doctor and Prism waiting for her down the street.

Swallowing hard, she breathed in and turned up the propeller.

With doctor taking the lead and two rainbow-maned mares tagging her, the three travelled west down two blocks. Every window within sight was closed and shut.

“Since we’re operating with caution, it’s best if we don’t make a scene,” explained Doctor just as Fuse was about to ask. “Therefore, we want to enter via an opening. If we come across an opened window above, though, I’ll need your help going up.”

“Thanks for the info, Doctor,” Fuse decided to reply with respect. She had been introduced to Doctor Loo first by Prism and learnt how she was both gentle and assertive, not unlike the Fluttershy she knew. I should probably switch my wings off if we want to sneak around.

She landed after a few seconds and took a quick glance around. When she knew where to look, it was now obvious to see it; every wall of every house was deteriorated beyond simple negligence could achieve. Even without the dust that blinded the interior, the weeds occupying flowerbeds were screaming “No ponies here.”

“Seems it’s been a while since anypony lived in the neighbourhood…” Prism’s voice oozed with tension. She slowed down in her pace and called out to her partners, “Girls, gimme a minute. I’ll put an anti-noise spell on our hooves.”

The two pegasi complied and, pretty soon, Fuse could feel a tick from under her hooves. It was a tingle, ice-cold and warm at the same time. The closest analogy would be how her wings felt when she drove Tempulari through her engine.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a chill ran down her spine. The feeling was getting offsetting, kind of like dipping her hooves into boiling water, just without the burn.

Then the feeling was gone, leaving a weirdly vague impression. Fuse lifted a forehoof to look at it. A layer of magenta enchantment encased it from frog to fetlock. She took a tentative hop and found that, indeed, the magic responded like four rubbery boots, absorbing any sound that should come out. “Awesome,” she exclaimed with a hushed voice. “Where did you learn this neat trick, Prism?”

“At Celestia’s School, duh.” Prism gave her a compassionate look as if she had asked what the princess’ name was.

Fuse facehooved. Of course… Hey, my face feels funny with the spell on… Distracted, she rubbed her hoof against her cheek, trying to get used to her dampened tactility.

As the three got back to their search for an entrance, Doctor spoke up. “Can I ask you a personal question, Fuse?” she asked.

“What is it?”

“What’s my counterpart like in your worldline?” asked Doctor quietly, looking side-to-side.

They’d reached the margin of the town, but there hadn’t been a window they could slip through, so they turned back and headed into a narrow alley in the hope for a change.

Fuse looked up into the murky depth of clouds, recalling the Scootaloo she knew. “Scoots,” — she smiled fondly — “she’s a daredevil, kind of like me — not just how we do things, though. She lost her parents to the southern jungles and my parents decided to lose me; she’s got PFD and I have dysplasia. Together we make quite the team, so she just stuck around when I was in town. Actually, she’s been a tester in many of my test flights.

“She’s definitely younger than me, just past twelve before I joined the Pea-Tea.” Fuse paused her story to focus on a window overhead.

It was opened. “Hey, guys, I think I found an entrance.” Once she had Prism’s and Doctor’s attention, she pointed up. “Looks like an attic. Should I fly up?”

“We’ll go up together.” Doctor shook her head, turning to the unicorn beside her. “Prism?”

Prism nodded knowingly, her horn radiating magic. “Time for our superhero landing.” She used her magic to envelop herself and Doctor, grinned toothily at Fuse, and lifted off the mouldy floor.

“More like a superhero take-off,” commented Fuse as she tilted her wings to go straight up.

Prism pushed her way in, levitating Doctor outside. She pointed her horn to one side, then to the other. Once she found no imminent threat in the attic, she pulled Doctor in and helped her on the floor with care, her horn still at ready.

Fuse came in and landed. Her propeller brought up a twirl in the stale air, raising puffs of dust and shaking the chandelier above. The candles were long dried and decayed, so they gave no resistance as the wind broke them free, splashing into fragments on the floor.

As Prism and Doctor walked around gingerly, Fuse found herself drawn to some stacks of bundled newspapers and magazines in a corner. Behind the stacks were a couple of crates, presumably for stashing bits and pieces away, before they had been filled up.

They’re even dustier than the outside… Does that mean it’s abandoned before the town? Trying to think in Speaker and Crepusca’s mindset, she walked up to the nook, suddenly very thankful for Prism’s spell shielding off dust.

She picked up a stack to skim through their titles. The aged pages shuffled and cracked with every move, picking on the three ponies’ nerves.

Let’s see… August, 993. January, 994. Whoever collected these must be a hobbyist. It should take a decade to pile up this much. — Huh, Manehattan Technologies, one of my all-time favourites. Good taste.

After a quick trip through the near history of publication, she came to the conclusion: “All magazines and newspapers ended near late spring of One-thousand.”

“Same for these stamps I found,” agreed Prism as she sniffed audibly. “Is it me, or is there a foul smell in here?”

Doctor snapped to attention and inhaled. “Wait… You’re right, Prism, and I know that smell. Brace yourself, please. It’s a stiff.”

As soon as Fuse realised what she meant, freezing fear clawed at her chest. “You mean, a body…” Her throat felt dry. “Are y- are ya sure, Doctor?” She couldn’t help staring into the shaded recess of the attic. Somehow, it felt like the darkness was staring back at her.

“Not necessarily a pony. Plus, the smell wasn’t strong at all,” Doctor comforted her with a soothing voice. “Trust me, our noses are built to be scared by the smell of death, so it’s more likely to be a tiny creature. Don’t fret yourself; let’s just stay on our hooves.” She paced to the trapdoor at the centre of the floor and tried it. “It won’t budge. Probably locked from the other side. Prism, will you?”

Prism walked up to examine it with magic. “Feels like a latch. Easy game.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, before a clang came. “There we go.” She held onto the handle. “Ready?”

Fuse felt her heart rate go up. The throbbing of the artery in her neck was almost suffocating. She locked her eyes on the trapdoor, whose white paint was barely visible with all the dust, prepared herself for what disastrous sight might be waiting for them below, and took a deep breath in case the smell became stronger.

Prism flipped the door open. Doctor took a glimpse down, her ears flat. No words came from the two in the first second, so Fuse didn’t dare breathe. But as the second prolonged into a minute, she finally had to give up and breathe in —

Some stuffy, mouldy air. Fuse blinked.

“Gotcha.” Prism chuckled. “There’s nothing down there. The smell’s totally drowned out, even. Not much of an improvement, if you ask me.” She lowered her horn below and inspected the floor. “Still, nothing down there.”

Doctor cracked a smile at her marefriend’s idiosyncrasy. “It’s settled then. Probably a dead mouse.” She let go of a held breath. “Think we should go downstairs?”

“How about maybe… No?” That came out hoarse. Wait, when did her sweat drench the straps on Falcon MkVI?

“I second that. It’s more prudent.” Doctor took a moment to level out her own breath before continuing, “Time for the question: What does the sudden end of all collection mean?”

“The date says everything we need.” Prism looked at Fuse, expectation in her heterochromatic eyes. “You should know that date more than Loo, isn’t that right, Fuse?”

It was difficult to nod, but Fuse did have a pretty good guess. “I see what you’re getting at…” Her ears drooping, the mechanist bit her lip and played with her chest straps, not really wanting to say the words.

Timelight said it for her: [Report from Dots: First known deviation is dated to June, One-thousand, error margin one month. This worldline has been documented as XU-Eight-Thirty-seven, and it’s highly possible that —]

She paused mid-sentence. Prism and Doctor paused as well. Fuse had to restart her engine, so that she could find some strength in its idle noise.

After an unsettling period of silence, Timelight continued: [Team Doctor, please head back to where you split up and meet Team Crepusca there. They’ve found a local.]

Fuse finally could breathe again, so she panted hard. She exchanged a look with Prism and Doctor.

The three shared a nod.

Fuse took off and blitzed through the window. Prism picked Doctor up and floated her out, before backing off of the window, staring down the shadows. They quickly dropped down into the alley and hurried in the direction they had come from.

Time was vital, so Fuse didn’t want to tag behind. Instead, she upshifted herself and soared forwards, with Prism and Doctor running aside.

Back in the attic, a strong shaft of wind carried some scattered news and dust around, before slowly settling down.

　Time unspecified
　Ponyville, Worldline XU-837

Below her in a gallop were Prism and Doctor. In the air, the automatic flight goggles were the only thing shielding her from incoming night air. Fuse held her forelegs to her chest and kept her pace to that of theirs. As a pegasus, Doctor was able to keep up despite not an athlete; Prism, on the other hoof, wasn’t in much leisure.

“I think we should slow down a little bit!” With the wind blowing in her ears, Fuse had to raise her sound to hear herself. “Prism doesn’t seem so good!”

Doctor took a side glance at that and found Prism drenched in sweat and tearing up in her fatigue. Doctor’s hooves bit into the ground in her scrambling to slow down.

“No… No worries… About me…” Among her uneven pants for air, Prism squeezed her complaint through her teeth. “I can still…”

“Oh, I know that face too well!” Fuse made an aerial U-turn to a hover above the two. “If an enemy is waiting for us at the fountain, how’re we gonna put up a fight like this?” She decided to take things into her own hooves and caught Prism by her waist. “You listen,” — She gritted in an attempt to hold the struggling unicorn down — “ya ain’t got nothing to prove to me, got it? It’s me who shoulda paced myself, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. If things really was dire, Timelight woulda told us, wouldn’ she?”

[I need to apologise, too. I should have clarified.] Guilt was in Timelight’s voice when she spoke up. [Team Crepusca’s discovery wasn’t an emergency. It’s all my fault. I’m really sorry, Prism. You three can pick your own pace, actually.]

Finally settling down, Prism gave a grin before chuckling heavily. “I thought I was the one to apologise for being a slowpoke…” She mumbled, taking a gulp from her bottle. “Phew… Much better. To tell you the truth, I am well-spent from that run. Maybe, we could take a trot from here on, at least before I catch my breath…”

Landing on the ground, Fuse chose to remain in silence as she offered a metallic wing to her counterpart to lean on.

The day had broken. Fuse let her eyes follow the untwisted central street to the far ranges of mountains, pierced by the first ray of sun.

The three resumed their return trip at a much slower pace. With the sunrise, even the wreckage of Ponyville seemed to have gained some warmth, even a little homelike. How many Ponyvilles will I go on to see? Such ponder occupied her mind, the absurd illusion of home not shaken away. If, say, we were to combine all Ponyvilles from every worldline into one huge town, what a sight it must be to see ourselves all over the place?

But wait… Isn’t that just what Timefold is, except it’s on a larger scale? She shook her head at her own obtuseness, giving a tiny smile.

“Okay, I’m… all good now.” Prism let go of Fuse’s wing, taking a firm step to make her point. At that, Fuse dialled up her propellers and retook the sky.

Ever after her initial creation, she could never stand the confinement of land. She had spent enough days trapped in a flightless body.

”Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward,” wasn’t what she said, but she agreed with the author with twenty percent more confidence than herself.

As adrenaline from all the rush drained away, silence continued its descent on the three, edgewise. Fuse, in an attempt to find a topic, recalled her unfinished dialogue with Doctor when they had found the attic.

“Say… Where were we before the alley? Oh, right, my Scoots. On her twelfth birthday, I gave her my newest modular gadget.”

“What is it?” asked Prism curiously.

“Meta Mark Two. It’s what I call a ‘Turbulence Blaster.’” Fuse held her head proudly as she said the name. She was a clever namegiver to all of her inventions, after all.

“Sounds awesome!”

“Awesome? Are you serious, Prism?” Doctor facehoofed in her march, then turned to look at Fuse drily. “Does this ‘turbulence blaster’ mean what I think it means? A propeller that shoots compressed air in overdrive?”

Fuse nodded at the question.

“You Rainbows and your talents…” muttered Doctor with her brow in a furrow. “Don’t you find that a little unhealthy as a filly’s gift?”

Fuse perked her ears, turning to face Doctor, flying backwards. “Nah, don’t worry,” said she in self-defence. “The security team and I have tested the model multiple times and Meta Mark Two is safe when operated properly.”

Doctor raised an eyebrow sceptically. She chose not to ask whether ‘Meta’ meant ‘metastable,’ but the last two words had her asking, “Didn’t you just say I’m twelve in your world? Since when does a teenage filly do anything properly?”

“Well…” Fuse just smiled at that. “There’s still the hardcoded throttle in public models, but now that you say it… Yeah, I wasn’t so considerate, was I?” She rubbed her nuzzle sheepishly and tossed out whatever came to her mind. “That’s enough about me! How about you, Doctor? I’ve come across quite the line-up of Scootaloos in the Pea-Tea, but they’re either a flyer or a skateboarder. How did you find your calling in the hospital?”

“Me?” Doctor’s ears laid down, her eyes glistening with a rare emotion.

“Loo?” Prism asked in concern, her voice still in a gasp from the running.

Doctor Loo shook her head, looking down at the sands rolling beneath her steps.

“Oh… Sorry.” Fuse never thought of herself as a (metaphorical) atmosphere reader, but this wasn’t a challenge at all. “If it’s a sensitive topic, ya don’ have to.”

“No, it’s okay… I just…” Doctor sounded like she was starting to cry. Her medical goggles provided a mask on her sockets, making it impossible to tell any redness, but Fuse had a pretty good guess.

Doctor didn’t continue. Ten seconds passed, then twenty.

“Let’s focus on the mission on our hooves.” Prism finally interrupted. “We’ll have all the time for this back home.”

Doctor nodded, raising her ears partially. “That’s… right. We should head back first.”

Then the three fell back into speechlessness, the pressure of an empty world proving more of a tax on their mentality. Prism picked up her gait into a slow canter, which Fuse easily matched with a tilt of wings. She didn’t pay any attention, though, as her mind was in a wobbling pile of mess. Whatever had happened to Doctor in her past remained a mystery for the time being, and there were too many possibilities running free in her consciousness to focus on, even for a moment.

In the end, her thoughts settled down on what Timelight had said.

Team Doctor, please head back to where you split up and meet Team Crepusca there. They’ve found a local.

“Who do you think this local they’ve found?” asked she out of curiosity.

“Who do you think it is?” Prism was fiddling a piece of crystal shard she had brought, and looked up from it to give Fuse a toothy grin. “If you’re as awesome as I am, you’d have gotten the answer by now.”

The horrendous implication of their earlier discovery re-emerged into Fuse’s mind. She smiled weakly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She pursed her lip. “On the count of three?”

Doctor looked over to the two cyan mares.

“Sure,” replied Prism, beginning, “three, two — Oh, never mind.” She broke off from the countdown, inserted her spellcasting material into a band, and pointed forwards. “We’re already there.”

Fuse and Doctor snapped their head back to look forward.

On a background of a crimson dawn, by the long-forsaken fountain pool, stood the three members of Squad Theta-14.

Also with them was a silhouette made barely distinguishable in the first light. It was a mare of mane as ethereal as nebulae in the night sky, of darkened body and lithe limbs. On her flanks embellished an emblem of midnight crescent; on her hooves donned delicate hoofshoes.

Fuse widened her eyes at the newcomer’s appearance. No… I’d rather be stupidly wrong this time… She gulped any words down, instead fixing her eyes on the towering alicorn and unthrottling her engines.

The alicorn turned around at the three’s arrival, meeting their gazes with a pair of draconic malachites.

“Hail, visitors,” said Nightmare Moon, her voice unnaturally sonorous in the quiet darkness. “Fear not, for I harbour no hostility.”

　Earlier
　Ponyville, Worldline XU-837

Team Crepusca waited until Doctor and the two Rainbows’ shapes disappeared behind a corner before moving to action, heading towards the sun.

Instead of investigation as promised, though, it seemed to Kick-ass that Crepusca was simply leading the three around in a pointless wander.

Perhaps Speaker was onto the captain’s schemes as well, for the usually observant mare wasn’t even paying much mind to the households nearby, which Kick-ass was sure the others were doing.

Trust as she gave her superior, she wasn’t exactly a pony of patience. Therefore, after a few minutes of wasting her time, Kick-ass finally had enough of it. “What’s it this time?” questioned she gracelessly. “Don’t you try to make up some cover stories this time. I’m not that stupid.”

Crepusca turned to give her a look, then exchanged the same look with Speaker.

“What, you didn’t think I’d be fooled by so little an effort to cover things up, did you?” Kick-ass scowled.

“I didn’t mean to conceal anything from you. I was just trying to confirm my suspect.” She sighed and pressed her earphone. “Timelight, are you there?”

[Yes, I’ve been listening.]

“Issue a ‘Clogged Glass’ caution to the Dots. The situation’s more complex than I’ve expected. Oh, and, I know you’ve muted yourself to Team Doctor. Stay that way for now.”

[Sure, if that’s your conclusion. Sending the caution now.]

A moment of pause, before: “Wait, what?” Kick-ass exclaimed with wide eyes. “Whatcha mean, ‘more complex’ than you thought? And what’s a ‘Clogged Glass’ again?”

Crepusca looked away from her, eyes scanning around.

“Damn it!” Kick-ass turned to Speaker for help, noticing the gravity on her face as well. “You’re the translator here. Would you please translate her words for me?”

Speaker didn’t answer her inquiries, either. Instead, she looked straight into Crepusca. “It seems we’ve reached the same conclusion, Captain Crepusca. You must’ve noticed the contradiction in ‘direction’ as well.”

“What ‘direction?!’ Quit your riddles already!” Kick-ass laid her hooves on Speaker’s shoulders and all but interrogated.

“Exactly,” said Crepusca, still ignoring the very offended Kick-ass. “Canterlot is to the north of Ponyville.” She pointed to the capital city in the mountains. “Then, this —” Her hoof turned to the brighter part of the sky, where the sun was climbing slowly up. “— is the west, not east as it should be.”

That answered Kick-ass well enough. “You mean, the sun’s coming up from the west? What the hay, that sounded so strange.” She scratched her head and caught up to the pair, who had resumed walking. “Though, what does that mean, anyway?”

As Timelight wasn’t able to see the sun, she sounded genuinely surprised. [Normally, the Princess Celestia of a worldline wouldn’t make so big a mistake, and even when she is in an inconvenient situation, the sun would be assumed by Princess Luna, keeping the regular period of daylight. Take this, and put it with how this empty Ponyville shows no hints of searching attempts nor of large-scale migration, and we arrive at two plausible hypotheses.]

“The bad one,” continued Crepusca, “is that Celestia and Luna have suffered from unrecoverable physical or mental damages and lost proper control of the celestial orbs.”

Speaker finished for the co-leaders: “The worse one is something else has been controlling the sun and the moon. It might be a magically strong creature, or an unknown phenomenon, and the discrepancy in direction could be that it lacks experience to do so, or it could be an intentional display of power.”

Kick-ass felt her feathers fluffing up at the implication. “That actually makes lots of sense!” She put on a stoic face and tried to look out for any incoming threats, but her fidgeting flight ruined the picture of a prepared fighter. “Doesn’t that mean we’re in danger big time?!”

“Danger? Maybe.” Crepusca lit up her horn to pull Kick-ass in. “But far from ‘big time,’ or I wouldn’t have split us up.

“Be it an entity strong enough to hurt the Princesses, or one capable of taking over the orbs, it should have the liberty to crush us the moment we stepped into this world. In other words, the fact that we’re still untouched is strong proof that we’re safe, at least for now.”

Kick-ass pulled herself free from the alicorn’s magical grasp. “You say that, but we don’t even have any idea what it is! How do I know it’s not toying with us, saving the glory kill for the best moment?”

Crepusca frowned. “I understand what you mean and really appreciate your thinking for all of us, but please have some faith in the decision I made based on my expertise.” She stopped in her pace, prompting the other two to stop as well, before challenging Kick-ass to a stare. “While it is true we have a disadvantage on information, it doesn’t mean we should shy from the risks, or we wouldn’t be here to begin with!”

Kick-ass flinched, taken aback at her captain’s outburst. With how collected Crepusca usually was, it was easy to forget that she has the mentality of a fully matured alicorn.

Crepusca apparently saw the astonishment in Kick-ass’s eyes, as she adopted a softer tone when she began again: “Besides, we aren’t completely in the dark as to what happened here.” She lowered her ears and head to appease the very irritated Kick-ass. “The analysers are working hard on getting us extra intels, right?”

Speaker pitched in as well: “Even if a confrontation were to occur, we still can pull out at any time.” She gestured at the brightly yellow band of thin rubber on Crepusca’s fetlock.

“Okay, fine…” Kick-ass, kicked her hindlegs in the air, dejected. She landed after a sloppy barrel, before glaring at Crepusca. “But I will keep an eye out. So, when’s the intel coming anyway?”

“Any ti—”

[Report from Dots.]

“Ah, here it is.” Speaker waved a hoof at the other two. “Let’s first hear what the Dots have to say.”

[First known deviation is dated to June, One-thousand, error margin one month…]

What followed wasn’t so important as the dating. Timelight was taking her time to read from the report, but Crepusca’s team needed no more to find the answer they had been longing for.

“June, One-thousand,” repeated Crepusca.

“Isn’t that…” Kick-ass bit down on her words for a moment. “Isn’t that when Nightmare Moon returned?”

“Everything is coming together now,” said Speaker.

“What you have assumed is correct.”

Kick-ass turned at the fourth voice to its origin; an alicorn as dark as midnight stood behind them.

“Hold your ground,” interfered Crepusca before Kick-ass pounced. “If she came with the intention to fight us, we wouldn’t have heard her announcing it.”

Kick-ass complied, for now. Her eyes, though, remained nailed on Nightmare Moon without so much as a quiver.

Which was what Crepusca was also doing. She made no attempt to conceal her lit horn, a stronghold-levelled shield at ready, with her hoof pressed on the Brake Brace. “Is that right, Nightmare Moon? Are you here so that we can talk?”

Nightmare Moon raised an eyebrow at the three. “I know your faces, but… No, this be it not, unless…” she murmured. “I see, you’re not of this world.”

“Your majestic, madam, please know that we did not come to trespass your territory.” Speaker bowed deep, pushing her head to nearly meet the ground. It appeared she was grovelling in front of the Mare in the Moon. “We are but visitors from another world in seek of epiphanies. If you demand so, we would depart with no complaints.”

It was in scenes like this that Crepusca held a strong respect for Speaker. In the face of the multiverse, where all that might happen will, a mare willing to bow her head could settle many disputes before they even occurred.

Nightmare Moon didn’t reply. She merely stared at the three.

Speaker held her head lower, her muzzle touching the ground.

Crepusca slowly pulled on the bracelet, ready to initiate the evacuation procedure.

“Please, leave not,” Nightmare Moon suddenly called out, “for I haven’t seen another soul in… a very long while. That, and please drop the mannerism. I deserve your bow not.”

The way she put it stopped Crepusca in her movement. Looking to her side, she saw Kick-ass dumbstruck, while Speaker rose to her height, a knowing look on her face.

“The very land we walk testifies to my crime, but fret not, I assure you.” Nightmare Moon lowered her eyes, biting her fangs into her lower lip. “I no longer hold any ill will… to any but myself.”

Crepusca nodded. Cautious as not to make any sudden move, she pressed her earphone. “Timelight, please let Team Doctor know and tell them to return.”

[One step ahead of you. I’ve called them back. They should be on their way.]

At that, Crepusca let out a breath. Despite visibly relaxing, her hoof never left the Brake Brace. “All right,” she spoke up, “let’s begin with some introduction.

“We’re First Contact Squad Theta-Fourteen of the Pale Tower. I am the captain, codenamed ‘Crepusca.’”

　Time unspecified
　Ponyville, Worldline XU-837

“And she hasn’t done anything that says otherwise, so you can come and join us, Team Doctor,” said Crepusca in a level, almost upbeat, tone, an indication that nothing had provoked either alicorn on the two sides.

Not to mention there was a code system designed to communicate under coercion without escalation, which Doctor could confirm hadn’t been in Crepusca’s words just now.

Still, Doctor and Prism ventured forward slowly and with great care. Prism had her horn at ready, a searing flame underlying just in case.

As Fuse landed and followed behind, she found her eyes involuntarily shifting to Nightmare Moon and her wings quivering underneath her engines. She’s Nightmare Moon, the calamity brought forward by envy and hatred! She must be behind everything that has happened to this world! Her own voice yelled at her in her mind, trying hard to spur her into action. C’mon, y’all need to squash her ‘fore she devours you!

She gritted her teeth and bit her wings into the nook of its metallic exoskeleton, fighting back the irrational impulses with all the willpower she could muster. Crepusca’s in charge of us here and if she said it’s fine, it is fine! Nightmare hasn’t done nothing yet, and I ain’t gonna give her a reason!

A hoof patted her on the shoulder. Turning to her side, Fuse came to look right into Doctor’s eyes. Beneath the reflective surface of medical goggles, her eyes alone seemed to comfort Fuse.

“Try to take it easy, Fuse, but don’t rush yourself. It’s your first mission and not exactly a straightforward one, so it’s only natural to have doubts.” She reached into the side of her saddlebag, pulled out a box of mints, and presented it to Fuse.

Fuse couldn’t help but notice how her feathers were deformed. Just like Scoots from my world. She blinked a little bit and took the box from the wing.

“What’s this?”

Doctor paused her with a hoof, turned, and called out to the four ponies waiting, “May I have a moment?” to which Crepusca gave a hesitant nod.

“Take as much time as you would,” replied Nightmare Moon, her eyes drifting downwards.

Doctor turned back to Fuse. “It’s galewort.” At the mechanist’s blank face, Doctor elaborated: “Sorry, I thought every pegasus in Timefold already knew of it. It’s a major cash crop planted in some world’s Cloudsdale, which contains a special sugar that binds specifically to pegasi’s taste receptors.”

“Receptors… Specifically…” Fuse repeated the terms, before, “Oh, you mean this mint has a taste exclusive to pegasi taste buds?”

Doctor gave a nod. “Exactly, and it’s quite a soothing taste for most, so I’ve got a box on me. Go ahead, give it a try. I usually take two and chew.”

And Fuse did. She popped the box open to find two sapphire-coloured pills, a strong, refreshing scent assaulting her nostrils. She tilted the box, caught the mints with a wing, and tossed them into her mouth. As she ground her molars into the pips, a blend of tastes made its way up her brain, leaving her awestruck.

It was something she had never experienced, almost hyperreal. While it had a common minty base that was chilling and somewhat sweet, there was this nuance she couldn’t quite place. If she had to find an analogy, though, it would be the combination of all the moisture and relief that came with the first raindrop after an elongated overcast. “Mmm…” She couldn’t help but feel her wings and legs loosening up, relaxed by just some mints.

The front of taste soon subsided, leaving a hanging finish through and out her muzzle.

Which reminded her of what she had been doing before taking the mints. “Oh, um, do you want the box back?” she asked Doctor.

“Sure.”

Fuse returned the empty container with a look of gratitude.

“Are you two done yet?” Kick-ass flapped her wings impatiently, throwing her hooves to the sides. “Take any longer, and you’ll break the multiverse record for slowest pegasi!”

It was then Fuse realised that Prism had joined the others by the fountain and that everypony was waiting for her. She raised her head to face Kick-ass, as a smile crept onto her face. Challenge taken. “Doctor, how do you like a ride?”

“I like it roasted.” Doctor, who obviously saw where this was going, nodded with a mischievous grin.

At that, Fuse started her engine and leapt, taking great care to carry Doctor in her hooves, and narrowed her eyes.

Then, she turned on her Meta MKIII.

Kick-ass had only blinked before she felt something speeding by her. She followed the trail of disturbed air behind her.

Fuse and Doctor were already standing by Crepusca, with the former still in the air, flaunting a shiny shape in her hoof.

Kick-ass took a second take and gasped. “Hey, that’s mine! Give it back!” The Wonderbolt finally recognised her badge in Fuse’s possession and pounced at her.

Fuse just rolled her eyes and evaded her swoop, before tossing the golden badge to Kick-ass. “Now there, who did you call ‘slow’ again?”

She put on a lopsided smirk, enjoying the sight of Kick-ass scurrying to reattach the badge, and then sneaked a peek at the cloud of smoke she had stirred up. Under the persistent turbulence from blasting, it seemed to take forever for the swirling dust to settle.

[Fuse, as much as I was impressed, I would like to ask you to refrain from risking it in the future,] said Timelight. [You triggered a third of the alarms on my console, and we won’t know if every worldline can stand that much energy density.]

“Oh… Alright, sorry,” replied Fuse, suddenly feeling too self-aware to utter anything else.

It seemed her performance hadn’t just impressed Timelight, though.

“Such is… exhilarating!” exclaimed Nightmare Moon, almost taking a step closer before prudently moving to cover her mouth instead. “Are these… prosthetic wings?”

She doesn’t sound very nightmarish, huh… But what do I know about the multiverse? I’ll appreciate an enthusiast who appreciates machinery. Fuse looked to Crepusca for the captain’s approval. Once she had the go-ahead, she began spouting her favourite language — Technics.

“Kind of, though I actually have a pair of flesh wings, just not very useful. And this is my flight engine, designated Falcon Mark Six. It offers a maximum velocity of four point two —”

“Ingenious! I understand none of your speech, but it must be an extraordinary invention!” Nightmare seemed to have become more impressed and this time, she actually took a few steps up to inspect Fuse’s wings. “You must be… Rainbow Dash, are you?”

“Well…” Fuse backed off, not exactly at ease under the scrutiny from the queen of eternal night. The hindsight that Nightmare was probably just talkative from years of solitary didn’t help, either. “Yeah, back in my w- — Ah mean, where I came from, I’m called ‘Rainbow Dash,’ but you may call me ‘Fuse’ instead.”

Nightmare Moon tried to smile in a friendly way, but her attempt was ruined by the fangs in her maw, and instead made Fuse’s hair stand on end. “Tax yourself not to conceal it, for your captain has already disclosed me your origin. You each hail from different worlds beyond the fabric of this one, whereupon I haven’t trampled.”

Trample? Fuse raised her eyebrow before it hit. Oh, so she did… She looked to Prism for advice, only receiving a shrug in reply.

Don’t ask. Better let Crepusca decide what we think of it, she read from the unicorn’s body language and bit her lips. The two then turned to Crepusca, looking for an answer.

Crepusca simply shook her head. “It’s polite to let her tell her own stories, so I haven’t inquired into details yet.”

A glint of warmth crossed Nightmare Moon’s eyes before she looked up into the sky. “That’s… considerate of you. My thanks to you, Captain Crepusca.”

Without anypony noticing, the sun had climbed higher up the dome. Shades of colours started to grace the emptiness of Ponyville.

“Would you mind if we take this to my shelter? I have no use nor stock of food to indulge you, but the spring water is abundant if you need to wet your throat.”

“We would have to discuss on that. Would you mind us using a soundproof spell?”

“’Tis only a necessary forethought. You may seclude your conversation from me.”

Crepusca thanked her and gestured for her squad to step aside.

To be honest, as Fuse stood with the squad in a circle, thousands of consequences that could come from the offer were running free in her mind, but the calmness in Crepusca’s words provided some reassurance. She forced her legs to stop shaking and stood taller once the squad got in a circle.

On the opposite of the ring, it seemed Doctor was having some doubt and it caused her distress as well. Her eyes were darting around, frequently towards Nightmare, while her ears were pinned dead to her skull.

Seeing this, Prism drew herself to her lover and nuzzled her lover’s poll.

“Prism, you’re up,” said Crepusca.

Prism leant in with Doctor and stayed there for a moment, before nodding to the captain’s order and lighting her horn.

A thread of magenta light streamed from her azure horn and expanded itself into a translucent hemisphere that covered the six from above to metres below. Under the muting orb of magic, even the barest of breeze was shielded out, leaving Fuse to listen to her own breathing and heartbeats.

“Timelight, what’s your take on this?”

[Worth a try. What do you think, Speaker?]

“I see no reason to distrust this Nightmare Moon at the moment.”

“I see all the reasons! She’s Nightmare Moon, for Tartarus’ sake! Who knows if she’s up to some shady schemes?”

As Kick-ass announced her leaning, with all the righteous anger of an air force member, Fuse was conflicted. Up until now, Nightmare Moon hadn’t been anything but amiable and understanding. Plus, Crepusca and Speaker are the pony-readers on the squad and they hadn’t rejected the offer.

Yet, having faced Nightmare Moon in her monstrous prime, she knew perfectly well how cunning and resourceful the alicorn could be. Even if she knew this wasn’t her home world, the dread and antagonism still haunted her mind every time she saw that pair of eyes.

Sometimes, Fuse wished she had been a more normal Rainbow Dash, if just to be braver.

“I also think that… that we should listen to her,” said Doctor, her voice thin, almost vibrating off the corner of her mouth. It made Fuse regret taking both mints.

“Here you go again!” Kick-ass was fuming. “I can’t believe you call yourself a Scootaloo! Are you sure you aren’t a Fluttershy who dyed her hair orange?”

“You’re not so much better yourself,” said Prism in a glacial voice which Fuse didn’t know she was capable of. “You’re gonna try harder at snarking if you don’t wanna sound petty. Also, think of it, have you forgotten about the Brake Brace? We’re not risking so much here, so I’m in.”

“I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt as well,” Crepusca interjected before any retort came from Kick-ass. “We represent the Pale Tower in our operations, and the Tower is here because of friendship. As long as I’m in charge of this squad, I will ask you to hold back from violence unless there are no alternatives. Got it?”

“Well, I mean…” Kick-ass trailed off, not really having a rebuttal. “I’m on your squad for a reason, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and I expect you to act more responsibly so that I can trust you in dire times. However, it doesn’t mean I’ll resort to hooves and horns every time things don’t go my way, or I would’ve put five fighters on my list. If you want to change that, though,” she leant in on Kick-ass, looking down at her, “you’re always allowed to try.”

Fuse’s jaw dropped at the sudden intimidation Crepusca was giving off. She was nothing like the Twilight Sparkle in Fuse’s world and Fuse wondered what would have happened to Crepusca for her to become like this.

Will I one day become her, if I keep visiting new worlds?

“What do you think, Fuse?” Speaker stopped her in her daydream.

With all eyes focused on her, Fuse had to gulp. Hard. Twice.

“Well Ah… I, am, kinda worried, but uh…” Her throat was still dry. “But I think we should give it a shot. We’re here to make contact, after all.”

“And that makes it five to one. We’re going,” decided Crepusca before shooting a look to Kick-ass. “Hey, Kick-ass, thanks for thinking about safety. It’s never wrong to have a different opinion, but this time we’re going to take the risk.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure… Don’t make it as if I was scared, okay?”

Crepusca took that as an apology and turned to Prism. “We’re done discussing. Thanks, Prism.”

The unicorn closed her eyes and slowly decreased her magic output. The magenta in the dome diluted and thinned, eventually popping like a soap bubble.

Sounds from around flooded in; the occasional wind through streets, the sands rolling on one another, everything that had been written off by Fuse as a part of the “silence” now sounded clear to her ears.

Crepusca turned to the black alicorn, who had been waiting in anticipation for some while.

“After you.” She raised her hoof to gesture aside, smiling at Nightmare Moon.

Nightmare replied with a bow of her head. Despite the smile decorating her face, she didn’t seem happy. If anything, she appeared mournful. “Thank you for such trust, you won’t give it in vain. Now, please follow me.”

She turned around and walked, face towards the sun. Crepusca nodded to Prism and Kick-ass, who in turn followed closely behind, before gesturing for the others to move, herself as rearguard.

Fuse turned up her wings for a hover barely off the ground. It was the constant thrust of engines that helped her thinking. Beyond what was surrounding them, shadows were falling and rising to the ascent of the sun, clearing up into brightness, so she was able to identify the meadows and creeks along the terrain.

Strange. There aren’t many trees, mostly just saplings, observed Fuse. Then she realised the same could be said about everywhere within her line of sight. The mountains, the plains, the land of Ponyville, everywhere was covered in sickly-coloured grass but few trees.

The more she looked, the more alienating everything in this world became. She had a pretty good guess on what had befallen this world. She just dreaded to voice it.

It didn’t take a long walk for Nightmare and the squad to reach the other side of the town. By the time Fuse came to, they were passing by a cottage that was long in shambles. Fluttershy… Fuse took a moment to look at the home to one of her best friends: Roof covered in dead ivies, under which critters no longer frolicked. The only thing alive around the household was a willow tree, whose roots sank deep into the stream running by.

It didn’t take a detective to tell, the owner of this home would never come back.

Fuse rubbed her eyes, suddenly stupidly emotional. The impact of a specific cut into the history was even stronger than an entire empty world, overwhelming her. What the hay’s wrong with me… I look stupid now…

Doctor looked at Fuse from behind as the mechanic’s withers shook, and opened her mouth. Eventually, she opted not to say anything.

The seven of them approached the Everfree Forest. Nightmare stepped onto a path between two barren oaks, followed by Kick-ass and Prism. Crepusca put the rest of the squad on hold until Prism returned from a dozen steps in and nodded. Then, everyone just moved in.

[I see a much lower reading on chaotic magic in this worldline’s Everfree. Is there any hint about that you notice?]

“Yes, unlike what’s common in Everfree, many trees are dead and bare. The canopy cannot cover up the sky,” replied Speaker as she effortlessly tore off a piece of shrivelled bark from the tree they were passing by.

Fuse bit the inner walls of her mouth for a moment, before deciding to chime in: “A- actually, the rest of these trees aren’t much better. Most are on the verge of dying. Dunno if it’ll help you, though.”

[It will, thank you, Fuse. Still, I’ve got another question…]

“How do you tell which trees are ‘on the verge of dying?’” asked Crepusca, pointing to one of the trees. “Dead ones are easy to spot, but the rest seem similar to me. Is there any experience you can share?”

Fuse gave a fond smile at the remembrance. “It’s not quite easy to summarise. You’ll have to be raised an Apple to learn it, sorry.”

[Such a shame. Still, what you’ve provided could reveal something deeper. Thank you again for piecing in, Fuse.]

Fuse felt her ears drooping, the warmth from recalling her family dispersed. She knew Timelight was offering a genuine commendation, but her inability to explain her study of the trees made it more sarcastic than anything. Did she deserve such praise for a trivial discovery, anyway?

She shook off the self-doubt and instead focused on the flora in the forest. She had been to the Everfree Forest multiple times in her world, but a decaying Everfree was still a first for her. Bushes and trees, grasses and shrubs, some had lost most of their branches and carried on, while some were standing with their inside hollowed out.

Without any proper care, though, it was only a matter of time before the damaged forest died out. So many trees. Even if AJ were here, she couldn’t save a hundredth of the forest.

Something held Fuse in her path. She looked up and found herself running into Crepusca’s magic. In the sere forest of little light, even the darkly-coloured barrier was quite visible. She turned back at Crepusca, who gave her a glance and nodded her head to the side.

It dawned on Fuse that she had deviated from the trail and towards the depth of the forest. Kick-ass was facing her with a bewildered look, which turned into an eye-roll the moment Fuse turned to her. She made a gesture or two, but Fuse couldn’t tell if she was telling her to keep up, or simply mocking her.

Anyway, Fuse sheepishly rubbed her fetlocks together and gave a flap, propelling herself towards Nightmare Moon.

The forest must have diminished more than they initially thought, for it was now more and more obvious that the trees were fewer and farther between than normal, to the point Fuse could feel the warmth of the sunrise seeping into her frame.

The grassy path was illuminated with some sun.

Crossing a log over a running river, Nightmare Moon took a dozen more steps, before coming to a stop.

The squad and Fuse threaded through the brambles, left the leafy ceiling behind, and found themselves under the open sky again. Below the blue was a behemoth of begrimed stone brick walls and heaven-piercing spires, describing the castle once home to the royal sisters from across the desiccated moat.

The façade of the castle had long since collapsed, marks of erosion marring the tapestries and carpet in the foyer.

“This is where I rest at night.”

Nightmare spread her wings, dark as the night itself, and glided as weightless as moonlight with a flap, as if the wind over the gorge had been all that upheld her.

Kick-ass pulled her forelegs in and tagged behind like a dart.

Crepusca addressed everypony still on this side of the gorge. “Prism and Fuse, in the unlikely scenario of the bridge severing, I trust you two to keep Doctor safe. And Speaker?”

“I trust your judgment, Captain Crepusca,” replied the mare in question.

“You and I, we stay until they make it across.”

Doctor and Prism approached the archaic rope bridge. The weak breeze in the air and the dusty smell from the ropes and planks were giving her a déjà vu with how they suffused the morning air.

Prism took one look at the bridge and her muzzle crunched up. She and Doctor exchanged a worried glance. “Should I teleport us?” offered she.

Fuse decided to speak up: “How about I fly you two across? I don’t think I’ll use up my reserve before we go back.”

Prism said nothing, nodding her approval and thankfulness instead. Thus, Fuse wrapped Doctor’s waist in her forelegs and took flight.

　Nine minutes later
　Ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters, Worldline XU-837

Nightmare and her visitors meandered through a labyrinth of corridors and staircases. The route they took was long and winding, almost breaking Kick-ass’s patience when they finally arrived at their destination: A stately set of double doors, cut and polished from basalt. Unlike everywhere else in the ruins, the door was nearly impeccable, only stained with some mosses colonising its corners.

What it held inside brought a light to Fuse’s eyes. Having navigated the dilapidated castle, she half expected to reach a room in the same poor status, but the room that greeted her eyes surpassed the assumption by far.

It wasn’t in a perfect state, mind you, but it was intact through the ages and obviously kept.

The floor was a solid piece of marble, covered with a rug of faded royal blue. The expanse was merely moderate of a multifunctional room like this, nondescript save for the bay window to the right that doubled as a personal observatory. An old-schooled telescope stood on a tripod near the glass screen and pointed into the morning sky. Its owner probably had been stargazing before Theta-14 arrived.

There was a queen-sized bed facing the door at the middle of the opposite wall, but seeing as Nightmare herself was queen-sized as well, Fuse would bet it was more like a single bed for the alicorn. Whatever ornament once embellished the bedframe had long eroded into a rusty green.

To the left was a fireplace built with the same bricks that formed the castle walls. Cinders from years of smoking obscured its original colour as well as the iron screen. Despite it being a frigid morning, there wasn’t a piece of firewood or ashes from a fire. Maybe she’s more accustomed to the weather, thought Fuse.

Nightmare allowed the squad a moment to assess her living condition, before turning around to lower her head in humility. “My apologies. It’s been long since I last had visitors and I never thought to place some seats… Mind you not, you may sit yourself on the floor, as I clean them often.”

“There’s always your bed so why — Hey!” Kick-ass didn’t get to finish her sentence as Crepusca pulled her down from flight by the tail.

“Thank you. We wouldn’t mind.” Speaker displayed a different aspect to diplomacy by sitting down without much care.

Crepusca sat down as well and gave Kick-ass a warning look.

Which Kick-ass returned with crossed forelegs and silent compliance.

Doctor lowered her head to look closely at the rug, before hesitantly taking a seat. Prism sat right next to her, offering support with a shoulder.

When everypony else had sat down, Fuse just shrugged and followed suit. She wasn’t raised in a fancy household and was quite familiar with down-to-earth gatherings.

Something felt off, though. She glanced out through the window into the early morning, a sense of disquiet rising. Why does the sky feel odd still…?

She shook away the feelings and pulled her engine tightly to her body.

The seven sat in a circle, facing each other in an eerie silence, only broken by the occasional wind that seeped through the walls.

Crepusca took the initiative: “Would you tell us what happened here?”

Nightmare seemed really conflicted on the inquiry. She evaded Crepusca’s eyes to look distantly into the sky, opened her mouth to try something, and bit it down immediately.

“I’ve… I’ve not yet prepared.”

She glanced at Fuse, then to Prism. She had a look mostly consisting of worry, but Fuse could tell something deeper was lurking beneath.

“If you don’t find yourself feeling comfortable yet, we wouldn’t want to push you,” Crepusca reassured Nightmare with surprising tenderness. “How about I start with a story?”

Fuse raised her eyebrows. What does she mean by… that?

Doctor and Prism appeared to be surprised as well, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Yes, please.”

And so Crepusca began: “When a princess woke up to find herself trapped a thousand miles from home, what could she do?”

Fuse assumed Crepusca was talking about herself. She knew there must be a darker history in Crepusca’s timeline for her to deviate this far from the other Twilights, but she never thought she’d been looking into the shadows this soon.

“… Now, if the villain was indeed wearing her face, the only thing she could do was to stand in the way of her beguiled friends, and the only help she had was from her enemies.”

Seemingly, Crepusca didn’t want to get into details and focused on the experience instead, but it was enough to wind up the invisible spring that hung over the room. All the distress and anxiety that haunted her from the beginning was woven into the coiled string, no longer negligible as they grew in the corner of her heart.

Somehow, she felt a presence nearby that triggered her flight, but was it Nightmare Moon?

Just deep breath… Yes… Like how Twilight always does… She drew a deep intake, then let it out slowly. Her eyes, unable to stay idle in their panicked state, began tracing down the cracks in the wall, charting a path of square wave. As the track turned up and down, the heartbeats that were pulsing away in her ears gradually followed the visual rhythm and slowed themselves down, relieving Fuse of the pressure from behind her eyes.

She brought her hooves to her sockets and rubbed her eyes, huffing out the heavy air from her lungs. If not Nightmare, then who — what?

“In her desperation to end things before they escalate, she ironically escalated everything. She brought unrecoverable damage to her home, hurt her friends deeply, and… in the end, realised too late that her hooves had become so dirty, she left muddy hoofprints wherever she went.

“She was wrong from the beginning and she might never be able to make up for her ambitious gamble, but it doesn’t mean she can’t try anymore, does it? She was willing to change for the better, and there’s always a chance for those who try.”

Nightmare sat in silence, her head lowered. Nevertheless, her twitching ears betrayed the waver of her mind.

“A mare can never truly escape her own shadow, but as long as there is an opening for light to come in, we can’t say she’s completely locked out from salvation. I don’t know what you’ve done for this worldline to become what it is right now, but I do know you don’t need any more condemnation. You need an opportunity to be given responsibility, which the Pale Tower might be able to help.”

Crepusca gave a little nod to end her storytelling. Even though she had just given a deeply emotional delivery, she seemed calm and collected.

Fuse looked to the two ponies sitting next to her: Doctor’s eyes were glistening, a spark of compassion in her eyes, while Prism had a look of contemplation as she looked aside.

Nightmare looked up at Crepusca, her wings partially unfurled. “I…”

A moment of pause, before: “Thank you… Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t think…”

Prism suddenly turned her head at the bay window, staring into the sky and blinking. “Wait… How?!”

The anxiety resurfaced in Fuse. She followed Prism to look at the dawn, unable to see what provoked the unicorn’s exclamation.

Prism spoke up just when she opened her mouth to ask:

“Why is the sun setting already?”

　Time unspecified
　Ruins of the Castle of Two Sisters, Worldline XU-837

A glint of fear flashed through Nightmare’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for the alien guests in her room, she probably would’ve vaulted herself to the window.

Instead, she jumped up and ran to it, raising her head as high as possible in an attempt to see what was happening.

Fuse found herself standing up to take a look as well, while Kick-ass straight out took into the air, eying the outside and Nightmare suspiciously.

Everypony in the castle room stared at the morning sky through the window frame. At first, it seemed there was nothing wrong.

Yet, as minutes passed, Fuse eventually saw what Prism meant: Slowly, barely noticeable but very much real, the sunlight that radiated across the dome was withering.

“Care to explain?” Crepusca put a hint of questioning into her voice, expecting Nightmare to offer a plausible reply.

[To explain what, Crepusca? What’s going on over there?]

“The sun is setting. It’s only ninety minutes since we saw it rise,” Crepusca replied to Timelight with a hoof over her earphone.

[Everyone, please stay collected. This might just be a phenomenon caused by Nightmare Moon claiming control over celestial bodies, just like how the sun rose from the west. I’m reporting this to the Dots now. Use the Brake Brace if anything should feel out of place.]

“Though reasonable, I highly doubt we’ll need that precaution,” Speaker said pointing a hoof at Nightmare, who was leaning on the bay window. “You want to see this, Captain Crepusca.”

Nightmare seemed as if she had been gasping for air. As she put a hoof onto the window glass to support herself, everypony in the room heard a sharp intake of breath. She lowered her head, her hoof sliding down the window to cover her mouth as she backpedalled from it.

“It’s gone even lower…” she murmured, a breathless statement of a broken heart.

The ponies of Theta-14 looked on. Even Kick-ass was sensible enough to leave Nightmare alone.

A feeble noise, almost like the whining of a frightened critter, pricked Fuse’s ears. She turned her ears around and found in surprise where that noise came.

It was Nightmare Moon, whimpering.

No, not just a whimper. The alicorn turned around from the window to address the visitors, but her knees gave in before she could produce so much as a word.

Nightmare knelt in front of Theta-14, head and ears drooping low as she cried quietly. She didn’t have many tears, but they were dampening her pitch-black face, leaving trails of matted hair. Her coat of hair otherwise stood on their ends, betraying how helpless the monarch of eternal night must be feeling.

She was twice as tall as anypony but Crepusca in the squad, but right now in her moment of vulnerability, as Nightmare cowered into a crying fur ball, she seemed so small and powerless.

Fuse found herself no longer feeling intimidated by the presence of Nightmare in front of her. If anything, she felt sympathetic to the alicorn. She wanted to do something to comfort Nightmare like a proper family mare should, but was there anything she could do to help?

Next to Fuse, the smallest mare stood up and walked up to the largest. Doctor was cautious with each step, putting her hooves down as quietly as possible, until she was finally standing right before Nightmare.

She gingerly tried to reach out, before a shudder from Nightmare’s sniffle made her pull back, unresolved.

She reached into her saddlebag, searching around in it with a shuffle, pulling out a small phial with a dropper tip and putting it next to her hoof. She hesitated for a long moment before finally determined herself to reach out again.

Fuse widened her eyes, looked worriedly at Prism, and mouthed, “What now?” She readied her engines to pull Doctor back in case Nightmare lashed out.

Prism simply smiled back and mouthed to Fuse, “It’s going to be fine.”

Still, Fuse didn’t think it would be fine. She fretted on her spot, rubbing her hooves together in anxiety.

Prism grabbed her hoof with her own and looked into Fuse’s eyes. Her heterochromatic eyes were a pair of rhodonite and emerald, drawing Fuse into telepathising her without using a spell.

It was in this pair of enchanting eyes that Fuse saw the confidence in Prism. It was her trust in Crepusca’s decision and, even more, her trust in Doctor’s ability to detect pains in a pony.

Because of these, Fuse finally gave up her fear and nodded.

By then, Doctor had just touched Nightmare, landing a gentle hoof on her dark shoulder. The medic said nothing, simply accompanying Nightmare in her breakdown.

Nightmare was still crying in silence, her body shaking with each sniffle rippling through her. Crepusca and Speaker decided to draw a step forward at the same time before they shared a knowing glance. After the brief communication, Crepusca nodded slightly, and they both stopped in their track to watch over the exchange.

“Please…” whispered Nightmare between her sobs. “Just leave me be… I deserve no such kindness.”

Doctor didn’t budge, still laying her hoof on Nightmare’s shoulder in silence.

“Do not… Do not waste your time on me. You can just go…”

Fuse blinked in confusion. So Doctor is just standing there? What’s about the phial she pulled out?

Silence. “I deserve such pain… You… You don’t…”

Still, silence, and Nightmare argued no more. She just opted to lay down her head and allowed her tears to flow as Doctor touched her wither, patting her slowly.

After an elongated moment, Nightmare had eventually burned the initial shock and sadness out and her breaths slowed down. She looked up with blurry eyes to find Doctor wiping away the leftover of her tears from her cheeks.

“Why?”

Doctor turned her eyes up to meet the draconic ones and pushed the phial to Nightmare. “Because I’ve sworn to help all those in pain, no matter who they might be,” answered she with gentle resolution as she spun the tip open. “Take two drops of this. You must’ve strained your voice box and unless you take care of yourself, you might feel horrible waking up tomorrow.”

Nightmare tried to rise to standing. “No… I need no remedies… I have bedamned myself to such suffering, so I have to endure it.”

“Nonsense.” criticised Doctor, pushing the bigger mare down by the wither. “No one ‘has to’ suffer anything; that’s just a case of maladaptive coping. Please take the doctor’s advice, sit down, and let yourself rest a bit after the emotions while you savour this bitter medicine.” She pushed the phial closer to Nightmare this time.

Nightmare sighed.

Then, she nodded slowly.

As it turned out, Doctor meant it literally when she said “bitter medicine.” Nightmare grimaced the moment the drops of potion touched her tongue and downed all the water in her kettle without the grace to use her cup.

Nightmare stood her kettle on her bedside table, rubbed her eyes and mouth, and turned around.

“Now, do you feel better to tell your story?” Crepusca smiled at Nightmare, genuinely happy for her to recover from the damage. It wasn’t obvious, but she could tell Nightmare was feeling better.

Nightmare looked out the window. The sky had gone darker, the sun almost sinking below the mountains. “Yes… This should better start from the beginning, I would assume.” She closed her eyes in concentration, spreading her wings out, before lighting up her horn.

When she opened her eyes, bright rays of pure white emanated from them. Deep blue magic spiralled and circled by her feathertips and weaved in front of her and Theta-14 into a holographic display of her recall: a sphere of continents and oceans.

The visitors immediately recognised the planet of Equus and the pale, lonely Moon that orbited it.

“I take it you know how I gave myself into jealousy and hatred and became what I am today,” came Nightmare’s voice. The way she told her story was apathetic, almost like an impersonal narrator of every story. “Trapped and lost on the Moon, I had spent a millennial before finally breaking free of shackles on the one thousandth summer solstice.”

The projection zoomed in onto the greatest continent and started to make out details: The sky-high ranges of mountains, the fertile fields of grass, the ancient city of Canterlot, and the serene town that was Ponyville. Finally, the view stopped above the Everfree Forest, and Fuse noted how the trees in the forest had been way denser than they had just seen.

Prism watched the recount magic with utter attention, mana coursing through her horn.

Is she sensing the magic Nightmare is using just in case? Or, is she simply trying to copy this neat trick for later use? pondered Fuse, cracking a smile at the silly question.

Six familiar ponies showed up in a clearing surrounded by giant trees. “These were the Element Bearers, or who would’ve been…” Nightmare’s voice took a grave turn, dragging Fuse with it down, down. “To them, I was but a villain that must be defeated, and I truly was. They were on their way to locate the Elements of Harmony. I must have been defeated, and perhaps given a second life by the Elements where you came, haven’t I?”

Fuse nodded her answer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Prism and Crepusca nodding as well.

“That, however, was not the case in my world.” — The replay followed the young mares to the nearly bottomless gorge, where the rope bridge hung broken by the cliff. Fuse saw the pegasus with prismatic colours in her mane grab the end of the bridge and fly across.

Rainbow Dash flew across the valley and landed on the coarse floor of gravel. She shifted the rope in her mouth, bit down even harder, and set out for the bridge posts.

“Rainbow…”

“Who- who’s there?” Rainbow gulped hard.

“Rainbow…”

“I ain’t scared of you! Sh- show yourself, or else!” threatened Rainbow, sounding not so sure about herself.

“We’ve been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the best flyer in Equestria,” said a soothing, feminine voice from within the smokes and mists.

Rainbow widened her eyes. “Are you… talking about…”

“Why, you, of course,” came the answer.

“Really? I mean… Yeah, me.” She hesitated a little bit before looking around to find her apparent admirer. “Hey, uh, you wouldn’t mind telling the Wonderbolts that, would ya? ‘Cause I’ve been —”

“Oh, no, Rainbow Dash. We want you to join us, the Shadowbolts.” Three pegasi, dressed in sharply contrasted purple and yellow on well-defined muscles, stepped from the smoke. “We’re the greatest aerial team in the Everfree Forest, and all that’s stopping us from becoming the greatest of Equestria is a competent captain. A captain only the most magnificent…”

“Yep?”

“Swiftest…”

“That’s me.”

“Bravest flyer in Equestria can be up to, and the captain…”

“The captain…” echoed Rainbow, her eyes shimmering.

“Shall be you.”

Rainbow couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She had always known her dream of the sky would one day come true, but this early in her life? Woah! “FOR REAL?! Ahem, I mean, sure, just lemme tie some ropes real quick and I’ll go with you.” She turned around and reached for the post —

“No! Make your choice: Join now, or never!” The Shadowbolts made it imperative.

Rainbow dropped the rope. She looked back at the Shadowbolts, who were standing right behind her, then to her friends, hidden in the heavy haze.

“Rainbow, what’s taking you so long? Are you still there?” came Twilight’s impatient voice, as she’d always been since Rainbow had first seen her.

Rainbow turned back to face the Shadowbolts. “Sure, I would like to join…”

The Shadowbolts looked like they would start to preen when she finished that sentence.

“… But not if you make me break a promise on my first day. I’m sorry.” Rainbow sighed heavily, reluctant to let go of a chance to fame. She made the right choice, did she?

Anyway, she turned around again, this time picking the rope up and tying it faster than the pegasi could react and took into the air. “Hope I’ll make the cut next time, bye.”

“It’s already too late. You’ve said the magic word.” The mare in the middle suddenly cackled. The three Shadowbolts erupted into wispy threads of magic and lunged out, coiling around Rainbow.

The cyan pegasus fell to the ground, darkly coloured spandex forming over her coat, covering her body tightly.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” interrupted Kick-ass, waving her hooves frantically. “What’s the meaning of this? Why’s Rainbow like that?! WHAT the buck did you do, you witch?!”

“The Shadowbolts were a manifestation of my magic.” In the flurry of interrogation and insults thrown at her, Nightmare simply closed her eyes in shame and weathered all of them. “I was corrupted by the anger and envy I held towards my sister, and at that moment, they got the better of me, and I…”

A ribbon of dark magic broke from what was constraining Rainbow and forced itself into her ears. Rainbow’s eyes slowly lit up violet.

“And I forced her into submission, serving me against her will.”

Kick-ass was taken aback by the scene, struck beyond words. Crepusca looked like she had been expecting this, and lowered her eyes upon seeing what had happened.

Without me… Without Rainbow… Fuse didn’t dare to imagine what would happen afterwards. She felt her wings fidgeting beneath the engine shells as the implication haunted her. Prism was standing behind her, so she could only guess how terrified the unicorn must be, seeing such fate descending on her counterpart.

“Without Rainbow Dash, the five of them couldn’t have activated the Elements, have they?” inferred Crepusca.

“No, they haven’t.”

The projection expedited to the confrontation in the old castle they were in now, but what was happening was vastly different from how Fuse remembered it.

“You have lost,” declared Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts, holding Fluttershy hostage and having knocked down every other mare she had once called ‘friends.’ She whispered coldly into Fluttershy’s ear as she held her tight with one foreleg locking her neck. All that showed her true feelings was the eyes welling up under yellow-tinted goggles.

She lifted her other forehoof, gave an evil laugh, and smote down hard. Fluttershy went out cold in one go, gasping for breath.

Fuse averted her eyes, no longer having the courage to follow what happened next. A tinnitus screaming in her ears louder than the coldest snowstorm that could annihilate even the strongest flyer. Fluttershy, Fluttershy, the soft and considerate pegasus who wouldn’t hurt a life even to save her own. Yet, she was betrayed and hurt by Rainbow Dash… who was under the control of Nightmare Moon. A peppery taste of malice entered her mind, as she felt the impulse to destroy somepony for the first time in twenty years.

Doctor’s wing patted Fuse on her back, breaking her out from the spiteful trance. If her throat hadn’t been so choked up, she would say something vicious, but all she could do was feel the tears cooling down in her eyes. I… can’t… lose my cool… Just like Big Mac always said… ‘No use doing somethin’ ya’ll regret.’

She screwed her eyes shut, took a long, deep breath, and held it for a moment, before letting it out. Blood had been rushing through her veins and was slowing down. Fire had been burning at the back of her head and was fizzling out. The ringing in her ears faded and she heard Nightmare’s voice coming again:

“… In the intoxicating illusion of triumph, I neglected the fact that eternal night only leads to eternal death. When I came to learn it the hard way, it was already too late; the sun deserted me, like how I had deserted her.”

Fuse blinked away the tears in her eyes to look at the projection. Green fields of crops and the once prosperous apple farm died away in waiting for a sunrise, giving room to colonies of weeds claiming the land, before they, too, died off. Nightmare Moon stood on a balcony of Canterlot Castle, a look of surprise and outrage on her face. No matter how hard she summoned with the overpowering magic through her horn, all she could manage was to bring a sliver of sunlight from below the horizon.

“I realised that the Sun would not heed my call and none shall replace its nourishment to the world, but there was nothing I could do. I stood gloriously as the sole monarch of Equestria and lands beyond, but… at what cost?” Words stuck like a lump in Nightmare’s throat as gritted her teeth in the pain of memory.

In the projection, hunger turned into starvation, which quickly devolved into despair. Displaced ponies crowded the front gate of the Castle, numb from malnutrition and hopelessness. Fuse could almost hear the voiceless wails and prayers, as she saw them fall to the ground one by one.

“My own blemish stained this world with destruction… Only me and Rainbow Dash, who was still under my control, survived.” Nightmare looked up to the ceiling, trying hard not to break into tears again.

“No need to rush yourself. You may stop if you’re feeling unwell,” Crepusca tried to comfort her.

Fuse felt a sense of irony as she looked at Nightmare’s distress. As much as she freaks us out, she is also disturbed to have us listening to what she’s done. She couldn’t tell which was worse to Nightmare now: To eradicate ponykind in blind hatred, or to come to sense afterwards and have to testify to her own crime?

Nightmare let out a shaky breath, her entire body shaking with it.

“Then I… I decided I had to let go of her. What I didn’t know was that my mind-controlling left her with full recollection of the downfall…”

“You… remember everything?” asked Nightmare timidly, paling at the implication.

“That I do,” replied Rainbow, “and that includes every moment I felt my soul crying for me to fight back, to break free, to save everypony before it was too late, but I just wasn’t strong enough, was I?” Somehow, she managed to keep a flat tone, despite drenched with justified venom.

“Then I have committed yet another crime I didn’t realise,” declared Nightmare as she held her head low. “I… surrender my life to you, Rainbow Dash. I know it will not erase what I’ve done to you, but it’s the only thing I have to forfeit.”

“Who said anything about killing you?” said Rainbow, staring at Nightmare as if she had said something unreasonable. She shook her head. “You have to stay alive. That’s the only thing I’ll ask from you in revenge for what you’ve done.”

“Wha- Why?!” Nightmare snapped her head up, confusion in her eyes. Her mane was no longer drifting, not with how depraved of harmonic magic this land was. “I’ve committed the greatest crime equinely possible. I deserve anything you could do to me. It’s not a trap, trust me —”

Rainbow interrupted, “You know, I’ve had a horrible lot of time to look and think after I found it was no use struggling. I saw how you changed from a hateful hag into an actual living mare, a creature capable of sympathising. I was there when you cried about the ponies’ death and for how you couldn’t release Celestia from the sun.

“Killing you? I doubt it’ll bring anypony back. Plus, you don’t deserve death. That’s too cheap for ya.” Rainbow took a step closer. “You’re already punishing yourself by becoming a good pony too late, aren’t you? If I wanted revenge, the best way I can do it is for you to live with the guilt forever.”

“You mean… you don’t want vengeance?” Nightmare dared to ask.

“No!” Rainbow raised her voice, snapping at Nightmare. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. You still look like the Nightmare Moon who made me hurt my friends and eventually kill them with the eternal night, but you don’t feel like her. I… I can’t live with the guilt for long, but I doubt you’ll ever control me to not care.”

After a long pause, Rainbow sighed hard. “You know what, Nightmare? I have just the idea of how to punish you.”

“Pr- pray tell, what may that be?” Nightmare dreaded the judgment, but she had to take whatever was decided by the only pony left to verdict her.

“I’m sorry,” began Rainbow, surprising Nightmare by much, “for what is going to happen to you, but I’m giving you a sentence of life. Of. Eternal. Life. In which you have to live on with the guilt and learn to grow out of it. You have infinite time, Nightmare, so if there’s any chance somepony can bring Equestria back, you might be the one to do so.”

“Certainly.” Nightmare nodded heavily, accepting the fate. “I promise not to end myself, as it has already been conceded to you.”

Rainbow Dash gave her a weak smile. “It’s weird, so bucking weird, to wake up and realise the world I knew has ended. Guess what’s even weirder? I still hate you for everything, but I want to wish you good luck.” She turned around and spread her wings, aiming for the opened window.

“Where are you heading to?” asked Nightmare, standing up. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Better not,” said Rainbow as she took flight.

“Actually, you know what? No, I’m counting on never seeing you where I’ll be going.”

At that, Rainbow flew out into the night sky, giving everything she had for the dome she had once loved so passionately. Up, up she flew, until her eyes watered in the bone-chilling wind and her wings gave up in the thin air.

Then she dove, directly towards the land she had loved as much as the sky. Pushed by gravity and her own wings still in their prime, she tossed herself to what had been her home.

A thunderous crack pierced the darkness, as the resulting Rainboom lit the world up in a deafening explosion, casting its beautiful light for the last time on the entirety of Canterlot as well as the serene earth pony town below.

But breaking through the sound barrier didn’t stop Rainbow Dash.

She marched on towards the vast plains and painted herself into a brightly red blossom that spread across a hundred of her body length.

She crashed perfectly right in front of Nightmare Moon, who was one step too late to intercept. The last pony in Equestria dropped to the ground at the surreal scene of Sonic Rainboom and began to vomit and scream.

As if shouting out her very soul.

The story shocked Fuse more than she had thought it would and left her listening to herself hyperventilating as the gory ending replayed in her head. So I’m dead in this world… No surprise, considering… But that’s a Rainboom, how did… I guess she was… And why would she end it in such… Ugh, this is getting nowhere… The sudden, almost ridiculous way her counterpart ended everything was a challenge to her sanity. Yet, the more she contemplated on this, the more she found herself resonating with this Rainbow Dash. When everything you hold dear is beyond salvation and the only thing left is your own life, you might as well spend it on a megalomaniac attempt to exit yourself and etch the regrets onto the grand stage that is life.

“… May I learn what came afterwards?” asked Speaker in a voice held together by sheer willpower, as she took the conversation over for Crepusca who was struck into silence from the story.

“Then, I tried to figure myself out, or at the very least, how to raise the Sun properly without sister, but you can see I managed neither.” The dark alicorn gestured to herself, then to the outside. “I no longer feel Nightmare Moon, but this shape given by pure hate isn’t something easily shed, as isn’t the name.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” tried Speaker. “What you are shouldn’t dictate who you are, or you wouldn’t have hesitated in mutilating us, would you?”

“You do have a point, but that just leaves me unnamed, as I’m no Luna, either.” She looked over to the twilight outside and continued, “That am I, a shadow from between the moonlight and the penumbra, forever trapped in the middle ground, just like how I do with the Sun. The highest I could manage was as high as early morning, and now it’s even worse. I suppose these are the evidence to my crimes, like how an ancient lord might tattoo a guilty mare.”

Speaker opened her mouth to argue, but it was obvious there was no point trying to convince the alicorn. Instead, she aimed for a different angle: “How long have you been living like this?”

“Nine years,” answered she with a tiny sigh, which contained such great repent that others could only attempt to imagine. “I spent the better half of these nine years travelling Equestria, burying every victim I came across and confessing to them my guilt. It was a responsibility I had to bear. Only recently have I traversed every last town and village and returned to Ponyville.”

“That’s,” commented Crepusca, “something to begin with, and it speaks of your changing for the better.”

The dark alicorn ignored her comment, though. “I’ve lived in the secluded retreat of this castle ever since, for I couldn’t stand the scenery of Canterlot anymore. It only serves as a reminder of my crime of usurpation.”

“Speaking of which, what’s stopping you from getting Princess Celestia out from the Sun?” asked Kick-ass, crossing her forelegs.

The alicorn turned to her, a look in her eyes that even a mare as blunt as Kick-ass felt sorry. “I can’t say for certain. It might be that the Sun is rejecting me for bringing darkness to the land, just as how it rejects my invocations. However, it’s just as probable that I’m the one rejecting it, out of fearing what sister will say or do when she comes back.”

Crepusca walked up to the mare and looked into her eyes. “She is your sister, despite everything you’ve done. She will be disappointed and she might take an eternity to forgive you, but if you don’t try, that eternity is never going to come.”

“I don’t even know if I deserve calling myself her sister anymore,” replied the nameless mare. “One day, maybe one day, I will do everything I can to hear her ruling my crimes… But not now, not when I haven’t done anything to amend them.”

There was a moment of silence.

Crepusca broke it with, “Timelight, the assessment of risk is completed. I want you to cancel the caution we’ve sent.” Then, she spread her wings and did what surprised both the mare in front of her and those behind.

She pulled the mare into her forelegs and hugged her with her broad, feathery wings. “I understand how much pain you must feel, living with such guilt,” she whispered in her ears. “What hurts most isn’t the wrongdoing, but the realisation that arrives suddenly and destroys your confidence.”

“It… does hurt,” admitted the mare, her voice wavering.

“Yet, it’s necessary for us to grow out of it, to never make the same mistake ever again,” continued Crepusca. “We don’t belong to this world and can’t stay here forever, probably not even another ten minutes, but you’re welcomed at the Pale Tower, where everypony will accept your past as long as you want peace now. That’s why the Pale Tower exists; to seek out a future with more love for everypony.”

The mare slowly looked up at her, a weak smile on her face. “I thank you for the kindness, but I cannot just leave everything behind and hope to escape the sin. I… have to stay and do it my way.”

“We have counsellors who are more than willing to visit and help you reconcile with yourself. You won’t be the first pony to have done horrible things, and what is important is that we look forwards.” Crepusca let go of the mare and put on a more serious look. “In the infinity of multiverse, even the greatest crime can be made up for, with sufficient efforts and a heart in the right place. Will you try to forgive yourself, Luna?”

A spark lit up in ‘Luna’‘s eyes for a brief moment, before dimming down. “No, I need to decline that as well.” She lowered her head. “I have to walk out from the labyrinth on my own, and if I can’t do it, I must deserve the everlasting wandering in angst.”

“Then, we respect that.” Crepusca sighed and turned to look at the members of her squad, who had been listening to the exchange quietly.

Fuse seemed entangled in thoughts and emotions, Doctor was lamenting over the declined help, and Prism was trying to appear stoic and cool. The three were less experienced with the multiverse, but their sentiments weren’t a curse for first-contact operators.

Kick-ass chewed on her lips, apparently upset to reach a mixed ending in the operation, while Speaker was calm, or at least doing great containing what was on her mind.

Guess that’s it.

Crepusca looked up at the sky, where a smokey violet of twilight was spreading. “We’ll be leaving soon. I hope to see you there one day.”

The Luna in black stared at Crepusca’s back. “Your story, it wasn’t finished, was it?”

“You’ll find out when we meet again,” Crepusca replied, turning back with a sly smile. “That’s a promise.”

Luna didn’t answer that, instead asking after a pause, “Can I have a codename, just as you all have?”

“Sure. What do you want it to be?”

“I’m… Gravekeeper, if you’ll accept it,” said the mare.

Crepusca nodded. “We will, and I’m going to put that into the archive the first thing we return.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Crepusca gave her a look. “I’m no princess or queen at the Pale Tower. Don’t address me like that, please.”

Gravekeeper nodded understandingly. “So… Until we meet again, Squad Theta-Fourteen from the Pale Tower. May your path be guided by the brightest star.”

Crepusca simply spread her wings, snapped them shut, and turned around for the door.

“That concludes the first contact operation with Worldline XU-Eight-Thirty-Seven. There is no need for the formality of diplomacy, so minimum follow-up is sufficient.” She waited until Timelight typed that in the report before continuing, “We’ve assigned the local resident, codenamed ‘Gravekeeper,’ as the contact here.”

[… kee… per… Right, done. That’s all, right?] asked Timelight through the earphones.

“For now, yes. We’re returning to the portal site,” replied Crepusca, before heading towards the door, followed by the others. The faint scent of mould greeted them as Crepusca opened the door, noticed Fuse only now that she wasn’t worrying as much as when they had arrived.

Gravekeeper escorted the squad out and stood by the bridge to see them off until the layers of foliage concealed Theta-14 from sight. Suddenly, she felt an impulse to fly, to give chase, to join them as they leave, but soon held the mood back.

She still had much, much debt to pay, after all.

So instead, she opened her mouth, wanting to shout something for them to hear.

But in the end, all that came was a mumble:

“Thank you…”

She stood there in the wrong evening for a long moment, gazing at the looming forest across, before turning back for where she rested at night.

The visit from beyond the universe had pulled her out from the quagmire of self-destruction, more so than the visitors themselves may have realised. Gravekeeper, or Luna if she might call herself that, looked into the last wisp of sunlight for the day, lingering above the mountains. For the first time in a thousand years, it was beautiful.

Perhaps, just perhaps, one day she would stare at her crimes in the eyes and bring Celestia, her dearest, misunderstood sister, back. She would resign herself to receive the rightful punishment from the rightful ruler of Equestria and ask for nothing in return.

However, before that, she had to first bring back the Equestria that she had taken away from Celestia. There might be a way for ponies to walk on this land again, or there might not be, but she had all the time in the world. Celestia had waited for a thousand years for her sister to return, so what if it was going to take her an aeon?

She knew she would stand in front of Equestria one day. She knew she will.

Preoccupied with thoughts, what Gravekeeper didn’t realise was the Sun stopping in its descend just beneath the horizon and lurked around for the east end of the sky.

　PM 12:09, Sunday, Week 138
　Department of First Contact, Timefold, Worldline O1-02

Back in the room with that strong scent of coffee, ponies of Theta-14 scattered around.

“There, I’ve uploaded the operation report, and now for the conclusion,” Timelight finally got to lean into her chair after opening the file that just arrived on the screen, “XU-Eight-Thirty-Seven has been reclassified to Deviated class, numbered D-Six-Thirty-One. The local contact is D-Six-Thirty-One-Zero-One, ‘Gravekeeper’, and only minimum future contact is expected. There is a Level Frost caution to any visitor, and we are dismissed for today.”

A long, distressed breath escaped Fuse after hearing that last line. It might as well have been a chanted spell. She found herself lying down on the cushion she claimed, all strength drained from her limbs.

Timelight looked over with worry on her face. “Are you alright, Fuse?” she asked.

“Yeah, don’t ya worry,” replied Fuse, rolling onto her belly to sit up. “It just took way more out of me than what Ah expected.”

“I see, so was it too much?” Timelight didn’t let go easily, pursuing as she collected her files. “It was a long day over there, after all.”

“More like a long night,” commented Prism, leaning onto Doctor for some snuggles, which were denied to her as the latter busied herself checklisting her medicine stock, “but, yeah, usually it doesn’t get this intense.”

“Plus, we are probably slacking off after how easily we got off the hooks last time,” nodded Doctor, piecing in her opinion. “Don’t get discouraged, Fuse; a relaxed attitude helps you more than often out there.”

“Easy? Excuse me?” Kick-ass raised an eyebrow, hovering overhead. “Weren’t you all there when Speaker and I defused the Everfree Murder situation?”

“Speaker did that. All you did was flying around Ponyville and badgering that poor dude,” deadpanned Prism.

“— Who happened to be the vital witness they needed! See, I helped!” Kick-ass argued. “I don’t care what you think, but that last operation definitely was not easy.”

Prism rolled her eyes. “Sure, fine, I’ll give you that, but at least there were ponies everywhere last time. This time all we’ve come across was Miss Nightm-”

“Gravekeeper,” interrupted Crepusca. “She chose that codename herself.”

“Yeah, sorry,” apologised Prism, rubbing her head. “Uh, we’ve only come across Gravekeeper, and everypony else was gone. Isn’t that mentally taxing?”

“Meh, you have a point,” conceded Kick-ass, waving a hoof nonchalantly. “Yep, I’m tired out as well, and my shift count at the weather team is falling behind, so what do you all say, we take a longer interval this time?”

“The stress left over from a depopulated world should’ve exceeded the threshold. The Dots and Docks would approve,” agreed Speaker, looking up from her reading. “Then, as per Guiding Lines to Psychological Health, I suggest an extension of the upcoming interval into a week.”

“Seconded.” “I second that.”

The two Twilights exchanged a glance at the coincided answer. “Then, if there are no more matters coming up, we can just leave any time now,” declared Timelight. “Remember, next operation on Monday on Week Hundred-and-Forty, unless otherwise informed.”

“Alright!” shouted Kick-ass, pumping her hoof before literally slamming open the door, leaving the others in the dust.

Fuse stood up. Is it over? Has it been done…? Three hours of running around behind her squadmates, as well as the nonstop shocks from the multiverse, had numbed her mind so much that, for a moment, she was too confused to move her legs.

“Why don’t you come with Loo and me?” invited Prism, suddenly standing right next to Fuse, with Doctor by her side. “Treat’s on me today. Have you ever been to the Central Food Plaza nearby? They make some wonderful stew!” She offered a hoof, which Fuse took in a trance.

It was then Fuse nodded in late consciousness. The two Rainbows and a Scootaloo walked from the room after leaving everything in the lockers, except for Fuse’s engine, of course.

After the others had left, Timelight, Crepusca, and Speaker waited until they should’ve gone far enough before opening up. Timelight turned off the differentiator, whose screen went out gradually, and turned to Crepusca. “You had something to say. What is it?” she asked in a quiet tone.

“Your reactions towards things around Prism had been overstepping, and it’s getting worse with Fuse now,” accused Crepusca, walking up to the console desk. “How do you defend yourself?”

“I believe what I did today can be seen as moving to orientate the newest addition in our squad.”

“So you admit it’s ‘can be seen as,’ not ‘exactly is.’ Is that how I should understand it?” Crepusca held onto the usage of words in the tactician’s reply.

Timelight was shut.

Crepusca took that as permission to nudge her more: “You can’t interfere with where they’re headed just because they are cyan mares with rainbow for mane,” she asserted with a tone that would not be defied. “They’re not her and you know it. An on-site advisor needs to be a strategist and scholar with the will of steel when her squadmates are away by many universes.”

“Captain Crepusca, please,” Speaker chimed in, putting her book down, “be easy with Advisor Timelight. It takes time to heal and she clearly needs more.”

Crepusca lowered her eyes and sighed. softening her tone as she replied, “I know… but, try to rein yourself, will you? Most Rainbows can be quite stubborn and proud of themselves and your doting on Prism and Fuse would only push them down the wrong paths. Did you know Fuse thought you were sarcastic when you commended on her observation in the forest?”

Timelight’s ears drooped. “I… I didn’t.”

“Then you know now.” Crepusca walked closer to lay a lavender hoof on an equally lavender shoulder. “I know I can’t expect anypony to change overnight, but at least promise that you’ll contain your feelings in future operations, not just for them, but also for Squad Theta-Fourteen. Will you promise?”

“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, sorry,” said Timelight, a look of grief staining her face. “However, I acknowledge your understanding and appreciate it. I promise you that I will try my best to hold back. Will you take that?”

Crepusca just gave her a noncommittal snort. “I will if you will.”

She unclipped herself from her gears and hung them carefully in her locker before closing with a thud. Then, she stretched her wings for a bit and left.

Speaker looked at the still swinging door with creased eyebrows until it eventually ceased. She took up the stray pieces on the table and carefully inserted them back into the book, one-by-one, before slotting the book into a case, which had a large letter engraved on it.

“Until next time, Advisor Timelight?” she bid Timelight goodbye with respect, put the book into her locker with the rest of her collection, and put on a violet padlock.

“Mm, see you.” Timelight fixed her eyes on the screen that was now pitch black.

Speaker nodded to nopony and left the room, closing the door behind her with care.

Timelight stayed behind in silence, facing her desk. She laid her head down on the tabletop and closed her eyes.

For about ten minutes, nothing came from the briefing room of Theta-14.

Then, the light went out, before the door was opened, closed, and locked.