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Magic was evil.
Ryan had become completely certain of this. It toyed with his mind, tore him from his home and remaining family, caused him nothing but suffering, and broke a changeling’s mind. And what had it gotten him in return?
He no longer needed to carry a flashlight. Yippee.
No, magic was something horrible that he could definitely live without.

“Whassup, Proppy.”
Ryan waved weakly to the changeling, before mentally kicking himself. He seemed to be doing that more often. Proppy sat meekly beside the window where Twilight and he had left him hours ago, still staring straight ahead. It wasn’t so much creepy anymore as it was just plain sad.
“I see you have awakened, my Father. Well, metaphorically speaking, of course.” Proppy said dryly, listening as the last of the rain was wrung from the clouds above.
“… Yeah.” Ryan answered without looking at him. His throat was sore, along with his eyes. “… Yeah, I’m up. We, uh… look, I just…”
“Is something bothering you, my Father?”

The little changeling looked directly at him, and once again, Ryan felt as though he were staring right at his very soul.
“… We need ta’ talk.” Ryan said slowly, kneeling down next to the changeling.
“Whatever thou desire, my Father; thine word is law.”
“No!” Ryan hissed quickly. “… No. Just… just cut that out.”
“As you command, my Father.”

Ryan took a deep breath, thinking heavily. Proppy shuffled his insectoid wings a little, becoming slightly more comfortable.
“… Look, man…” Ryan said with difficulty. “I-I… I don’t… I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
For a moment, the changeling looked genuinely confused.
“Sorry?” Proppy asked in befuddlement. “Whatever for, my Father?”
He cringed again, and took one of the changeling’s smooth black hooves into his hands. “I… I’m sorry. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Ryan almost choked, forcing his voice to stay even. “I-I didn’t… I didn’t know it would… I fucked up your head, man-!”

Proppy immediately pushed his wings out in agitation, standing.
“No.”
“… Uh, what?”
“No, my Father.” Proppy said, a small smile spreading onto his face. “I believe… I see now what torments thy soul. You appear to be moderately unnerved by my… present condition.”
“It ain’t just ‘cause you’re blind, it’s because I turned you into a religious-y nut!” Ryan seethed in self-loathing, hands clenching tightly.
“I assure you, I am quite sane." Proppy deadpanned. "My Father, I do not worship thy name out of religious duty – I honor thine name in reverence of my salvation.”

“But I-“ Ryan started, only to be cut off by the changeling.
“My Father, your guilt is completely unwarranted; at least, in my own opinion.”
“But I-“
“In. My. Opinion.” Proppy restated calmly, stamping his holed hoof softly. “I have an opinion now, my Father. That is the glorious gift that you bestowed upon me – not forceful reverence. I act in thy name, but my will is my own. My own will, my Father. My own will.”
“But I-!”
“An act of kindness.”

Ryan ran a hand through his greasy black hair, desperately trying to make the changeling understand that he was in the wrong – and, for a moment, it felt oddly surreal that Ryan was even admitting that he was in the wrong at all. It was something he just didn’t do.
“I was gifted with true, unadulterated sight and intellectual acumen, a remarkable perception. That is what you bestowed upon me; me, of all the other changelings. I, and I alone received thy gift of internal fire, an unending curiosity. Not the others, not my Queen, but me.” Ryan listened intently to the changeling’s rant, confused.
“I alone accepted that divine, creating spark – accepted, my Father. It was not forced upon what pitiful, meager imitation of a mind I once possessed, but presented in an act of good faith; a gesture of compassion. To understand the difference between right and wrong, to observe, to contemplate. For such a wonderful thing, my Father – oh, gladly wouldst I proffer mine physical sight a thousand times over, if I could, should I be granted the wonderful opportunity to embrace thine glory for the first time again.”

Ryan was left speechless at Proppy’s tirade, baffled. Why couldn’t he just accept the fact that Ryan was a monster, just like Carlos?
“My only regret, Dawnbreaker, is that I could not share thine divine gift with the others. They were all but content to remain free from the yokel of our Queen; and some, not quite so content to leave it’s familiar weight. I wish to do what is right not because of thine divine will, but because it is the right thing to do. Feel no sorrow for me, my Father; for there are souls aplenty with earthly meager pickings, and many not nearly as overjoyed by thine compassion as I.”
Dawnbreaker. There’s that word again…

Ryan then noticed that the residents of the cafeteria had been watching very, very closely. Several of the seated patients around had been listening with their ears as high as they would go, and Fluttershy was still seated alone at the same spot. Even the lone wheelchair-bound pony in the corner was sniffling a little at the display.

And, of course, since he could see just fine, Ryan promptly gave him the finger.
“That was… insightful.”
Ryan jumped at Twilight’s voice, surprised. He stood quickly, and his kneecaps popped as he did so. Ryan winced at her blank stare, and she asked “Are you going to get a bandage back on that appendage?”
He blinked, staring at his left hand. It did look pretty unsightly – the nasty black and green scar blossoming from the center of his palm, billowing through to the other side of his hand. How they’d even managed to get the flesh to heal over enough to close the hole within the span of a single day was beyond him.
“… I dunno. Maybe.” Ryan shrugged half-heartedly. “We gonna split?” he asked quietly, his thoughts weighing on him. The idea of remaining at the hospital didn’t seem too appealing anymore.

“… Possibly. Lyra asked if we’d make it for coffee today, and you seem to be walking alright…” she began cautiously.
“Cool. I was kinda lookin’ forward ta’ introducing Proppy to ‘er.” Ryan said sluggishly, yawning.
“Actually, I… think it’d be best if Proppy… stayed here, for a while.” Twilight said awkwardly.
“… I’m sorry, what?” Ryan made a show of cleaning out his ear. “What for?”
Twilight glanced at the changeling, who’s milky white eyes stared directly back at her. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have said that he could see perfectly well.

“I… look, Ryan, he’s… he’s blind. Proppy needs some form of stable environment, and on top of the fact that he’s technically a foal-“
“What’dya mean, foal?” Ryan scoffed. “He’s fuckin’ smart. Have you listened to the way he talks?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Twilight said quickly, shaking her head. Proppy seemed to be a little hurt by her remark, but Ryan couldn’t tell why. “He has literally no experience with other normal ponies besides us, he has no way of ensuring where he’s at due to his… condition, and he’s still a changeling.”
“So fuckin’ what?” Ryan glared at her, equally offended. “So you’d rather have him locked up here, just ‘cause he’s different?”
“No, Ryan, that’s not-“
“I’m different, how come ya’ didn’t lock me up?!”
“I did!” Twilight shouted angrily, before catching herself. “I-I mean… what has he eaten, Ryan?”

Ryan, however, was in a foul mood.
“… So, you were told to keep me locked up in that fuckin’ tree.”
“I wasn’t tol- that’s beside the point! And what are you all looking at?” she snapped suddenly at the staring ponies, once again stopping herself. She looked horrified at the fact that she’d shouted at a bunch of random patients. Twilight took a deep breath, steeling herself. She shook her head a couple of times, focusing; she seemed to be in mild pain, from the grimace she wore.

“… I-I’m so sorry…” she said mournfully, her ears flattening against her head. “I don’t… I don’t know what came over me…”
“It’s alright, Twilight,” a custard yellow hoof patted her kindly on the shoulder, causing Twilight to flinch. “Everypony is just under a lot of pressure, trying to get back into the groove of things. We understand how you feel.” Fluttershy said softly, and it seemed to calm the unicorn slightly.
For a long time, nobody spoke much. Aside from the one wheelchair-bound pony, that is, who coughed dramatically into his hoof as if he were expecting the free entertainment to continue, but quickly whistled inconspicuously once Ryan began miming (violently) causing him severe injury with a spork.

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It was decided that Proppy would remain at the hospital for the time being.
Ryan was thoroughly against the idea, at first. However, after an entire forty minutes of Proppy praising his name nonstop, Ryan was getting more than a little uncomfortable. That, and the changeling would occasionally mention a pleasant nurse that he’d met in the hospital. Something about Redheart, maybe. Even thinking about nurses brought back unpleasant memories, plenty of ones that he wasn’t willing to dive into this early in the morning.
Or, late morning, by that point.

Twilight sat thoughtfully in across from the little wooden table on Lyra and Bon-Bon’s patio, sipping a cup of coffee as her mind worked. A small silver pot of sugar sat forlornly in the center of the wooden table, glinting in the sunlight. Twilight stared off into the distance, awaiting Lyra’s return. The mint colored unicorn had trekked back inside for more coffee, grumbling at Bon-Bon’s reluctance to do it for her.

“And you broke his mind.”
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” Ryan nodded miserably to the confectionary artist, watching his own reflection in the small cup of murky brown liquid. It was still hot, but Equestrian coffee just didn’t taste the same as what he was used to. Theirs was ground very finely, and left a light zingy aftertaste; it wasn’t bad. Just different.
Ryan hated change.

“Ryan, you heard what he said-“
He promptly cut Twilight off, exclaiming “Yeah, praise Dawnbreaker. About a bajillion times over.” He didn’t know why, but even the mention of that name made him feel… uneasy.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” She growled at him, shaking her head. “Maybe… maybe you didn’t do as much ‘damage’ to that changeling as you thought you did.”
Ryan snorted in disbelief, but there still remained a flicker of hope. Maybe she was right… maybe Proppy really would be okay. His first instinct was to quash what little hope he had; it wasn’t like hope ever did anybody any more good than pity. No, things like that were for weak people. And yet… a sliver of optimism refused to die. Maybe the changeling – no, Proppy – would adjust and live happily. Once again, Ryan was struck with the oddly surreal notion that he actually cared about someone else’s well being.

Lyra grunted as she sat next to Ryan, across from her housemate. She plunked a large cup of coffee down in front of her, then promptly began swigging it down. Bon-Bon’s mouth dangled open in a mixture of fascination and mild disgust.
“… Lyra, I swear. You’re an animal.” She shook her head, grinning. Even Ryan smiled a little. Twilight, on the other hand, did not find her amusing in the slightest.

“… What?” Lyra asked, perplexed. “… I need my morning coffee.”
“Like your lard-ass princess needs cake?” Ryan asked, propping his chin up with his good right elbow.
“Ryan!” Twilight scolded him immediately. “Will you kindly-“
“Pass the sugar? Abso-fuckin’-lutely.” He beamed, shoving the small silver pot in her direction without hesitation. “See? I can read her mind, too.”
Twilight glared venomously at him across the table, crossing her hooves across her chest grumpily. A tuft of violet mane dangled over her face as she did so, and no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn’t achieve the effect she wanted.

… That is fucking adorable, he thought smugly.
Of course, his shark-like grin only widened at her frustration.

“So, aside from you guys having an awesome adventure without me,” Lyra breathed through her nose as she took another deep drink from her coffee. “… What else did I miss?”
“Whaddya mean?” Ryan scratched the back of his greasy head, leaning back in his chair as he took a drink of his own rapidly cooling coffee. He had to admit, this was pretty nice. The birds were chirping, the sun was out, everything just seemed so… calm. Such a stark contrast to the claustrophobic horrors of the changeling hive, the constant fear of dying, the discovery that the liquid inside the pods was actually changeling vomit-
Ryan promptly began gagging on his coffee.

A quick worried glance from Twilight later, he’d thumped his chest a couple of times and forced his breathing to remain stable.
“... Not… much…” he choked, coughing. “Just, uh… just a new trick.”
Lyra snorted. “New trick. You sound like you’re talking about a puppy. Ooh, Bonny!” she exclaimed suddenly. “That’s it! We should totally-“
“No.” Bon-Bon deadpanned from across the table. “Not happening.”
“Awwwwwwwww!” Lyra sighed heavily, head hitting the table with a comical little thunk. She stayed in that position for a long moment, before wearily lifting one hoof and pointing in Ryan’s direction. “… ‘Kay. New trick. I need somepony to cheer me up now.”

Lyra glanced up at him through her hooves a little dejectedly. Ryan chortled, extending his palm outward, facing the sky. He didn’t like magic; not in the slightest. However, if he could figure out how to use it for himself… it could be beneficial should he ever return home.
A few simple little words, that’s all it would take…
“All rrrrright.” Ryan said slowly, hoping he wouldn’t wind up making a fool of himself. “Y’all bitches best make like Lincoln and enjoy the show, ‘cause I’m about to blow yo’ minds.”

Ryan reached for the familiar spark, deep within the recesses of himself and swiftly yanked it out. It quivered reluctantly through his arm and rippled into his left palm, flowing outward in a single burst of sickly green pale light. It was gone as quickly as it had come, however; and for some reason, it left him feeling horribly drained. Lyra, Bon-Bon and Twilight all stared.
His mind felt a little sluggish from the effort, but he’d managed to do it – even if it was only a parlor trick instead of the impressive flaming sabre. Ryan couldn’t quite figure out why it took so much out of him, though.
It’s because you’re soft, a niggling voice in the back of his mind taunted him.
“Ta-da.” Ryan grinned weakly, suddenly feeling like his muscles were made of lead. “I am now officially part fleshlight.”

Twilight looked mortified.
“Jesus, kid. Y’alright?” Ryan slurred, discovering that even his tongue felt heavy. Why did using magic have to take so much out of him? “Ya look like you’re gon’ be sick, r’ somethin’.”
Come to think of it, Ryan felt ill as well. It was probably magic’s fault…
“Y-you’re one to talk…” Twilight said uneasily, watching as his face grew a few shades greener. “You… Ryan, you look awful.”
“Hey, can’t be too bad.” Ryan shook his head forcefully, trying to get rid of the weak, sick feeling. He gnawed on his tongue a little, straining to reclaim some level of feeling in it. “Nobody got mindfucked this time.”

The unicorn cringed, and said “Ryan, I… I don’t think Proppy was… mindf… I-I don’t…” she tried to speak uncomfortably.
“Oh, please.” Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, and not just because of the enormous headache that was brewing. Was that just another side effect of using magic to get free light? “Don’t try’n tell me he’s not screwed up again. I mindfucked him so bad, I might as well have jammed my dick through his eye socket.”

Lyra found his imagery very amusing.
Bon-Bon and Twilight… not so much.

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All in all, it was a pretty pleasant morning.
Well, aside from the soul shattering message from Carlos informing him that his vain attempt at keeping his remaining family safe had probably resulted in both of his cousins’ deaths if they weren’t already dead because of a madman in a blue box, Proppy’s surprisingly lucid veneration to Ryan’s name and insistence upon behaving like a four-legged saint, he was being forced to wait another whole week before receiving any news of going home, and the fact that the only magic he could muster was a single pathetic burst of light and/or potentially obliterate someone’s mind.
Not including all of that, it was a pretty pleasant morning.

And, as is always the case should anyone in Equestria ever attempt to enjoy a peaceful cup of coffee, something was bound to go wrong.
“Rye-pie!”
“Aaaaagh!”
Ryan leapt sideways out of his chair with astonishing agility for someone with a nearly lame leg, crumpling to the ground in panic. He glared at the agitated Pinkie Pie in annoyance, straining to get back to his feet. The least one of the others could have done was help him up, but they all remained seated.
Bastards.

“… Pink, you’re payin’ for my next hospital bill when you give me a fucking heart attack!”
“Rye-pie, what are you doing?” Pinkie asked curiously, peering around him as if she could derive an answer that way.
“… ‘The fuck does it look like I was doin’?” Ryan blanched at her. “I was actually fuckin’ relaxin’ for once!”
Pinkie’s mouth opened in a silent Ohhh, and she donned a confused tilt. “What for?”
“Whaddya mean, what for?”
“Silly filly, didn’t you even read the tags? Adventure, not Slice of Life!”
“… What.”

The trio of mares watched the conversation between Ryan and Pinkie with mild interest.
“Forget I said that!” Pinkie shook her head quickly. “We’ve only got about a week left, and that means we’ve got to get in as much excitement as we can!”
“I-I don’t remember telling you about that yet…” Twilight interrupted suddenly.
Pinkie giggled, grabbing Ryan around his good wrist and tugging him away. “Don’t worry about it, Twi! I’ll bring him right back, Pinkie Promise!”

Despite Ryan’s loud objections, Pinkie dragged him away down the dirt road.
Eventually, he simply gave up and let her tug him along. It required slightly less effort than actually walking on his own, anyway. Pinkie finally let go of his good hand a few minutes later so that she could walk properly, and she hadn’t stopped talking the entire way about ‘fun-ventures’.
“Pinkie.”
“Yeah, Rye-Pie?”
“Don’t call me that.” Ryan grumbled angrily, limping beside her. “I thought you said you only needed me for a minute?”
“I do, I do, I do!” Pinkie said merrily as she bounced alongside him, and he could have sworn that he heard a spring going off every time she leapt off the ground. “It’s for a super-double-amazing-secret-incredible-top-extra-code pink- mega-ultra-deluxe-with fries-“
“Pinkie!”
“I think I can get you home!”

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. A small cloud of dust flurried forward as he did so, and he had to stop to keep his jaw from dropping. It sounded too good to be true. Maybe he wouldn’t even need… After several long moments of staring at the pink mare, he shook his head.
“… You have my attention.”

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“And… that’s how you get around so quick? These, uh… cracks?”
Pinkie’s explanation still boggled him. She’d dragged him down some random back alley, clustered with dust and bricks. A single tin trashcan sat beside a side door, the alley’s only decoration aside from dirt.
“All over the place! Pinkie Sense is dandy, too.” She nodded in agreement, pink frizzy mane bouncing wildly as she did so.

“… How does that even work?” Ryan wondered aloud, more to himself than anything. Pinkie wasn’t very good at long explanations, as she kept rambling on and using terrible analogies about ostriches and such.
“Easy peasy, cupcake squeezy!” Pinkie sprang up. “I just find a little crack where it shouldn’t be, slip through, then go full circle until I come back to where I need to be!”
“That’s… I still don’t get it.”
“Yeah, me neither, really.” She giggled, pointing a hoof at the brick wall before him. “So… wanna go for an Equestrian rollercoaster ride?”

Frankly, Ryan did not like the sound of that. But then again, if it had the chance of getting him home a week early…
He stared at the wall blankly, expecting it to do something aside from being a bland, boring red brick wall. It remained a bland, boring red brick wall. Evidently she had something planned with the wall. Either that, or she was completely out of her mind. The latter seemed more likely.
“… Ah, what the hell.” He grinned, patting her on the head. “I kinda like rollercoasters.”

Of course, one occasionally forgets that whereas rollercoasters tend to bring bouts of exhilaration, they also may induce large amounts of vomiting should the unwary board them.

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One step.
That’s all they took.
Pinkie gripped Ryan’s right hand tightly with her hoof (confusing him as to how she did so) and took a large step toward the ordinary, bland brick wall. And then they went through it.
Through it.
Through.

It was as if nothing were even there at all – one moment, Ryan was staring at a wall and expecting the resistance of heavy brick against his face; he’d even braced himself for the inevitable impact. However, he was quite surprised when they passed directly through it.
In comparison, ‘quite surprised’ did it injustice bare seconds afterwards.
“Ho-lee shit!”

Ryan barely had time to cringe as it felt like the entire world had been ripped from beneath his feet, twisting and tossing madly as he jerked back to reality. Pinkie was no longer holding his hand; as a matter of fact, she was nearly ten feet away, bouncing cheerily down the concrete road.
Concrete. Not dirt, concrete.
That was the first thing to capture Ryan’s attention; the craftsmanship of the road, the elegant steel girders winding in floral patterns along the sides to serve as guard rails for the passing carts. The noise of the city flowed over him, and he basked in it’s familiarity. Unfortunately, he still seemed to have retained the oddly animated quality. Also, it was now night.

… Why did it take me that long to realize that…?
“P-Pink!” he yelped, gazing around for his brightly colored guide. He slapped a palm against the brick wall to get back, but met only solid stone. His heart beat irregularly in panic, and he forced himself to stay calm. He couldn’t get back that way, apparently…
“Pinkie?” he called out again, limping down the road quickly as he took in as many details as possible. The night sky above was dotted with stars, despite the lights from the city around him. The further he traveled from the empty alley, the more (quite startled) pedestrian ponies that passed him. “Pinkie Pie?” he yelled out, searching the high steel buildings glinting in electrical lamplights.

“Hey, watch it, ya’ freak!” a feminine voice griped at him as he was roughly shoved aside, and he caught a glimpse of a rather large griffin stomping angrily down the sidewalk.
… Déjà vu… Ryan thought absently, limping quickly past a battered mailbox. The signposts were made of some kind of cheap iron and painted in blue, but he couldn’t read the lettering on them. Everything was written in a strange, whirling print for some reason.

“This way, Rye-Pie!”
“There you are!” Ryan heaved in relief, spotting Pinkie twirling absentmindedly around a lamp pole. “What the fuck just happened?” he inquired, staring at the city around him. After the solitude of Ponyville, he really wasn’t expecting such a jarring experience.
“Oh, my bad!” she smiled, but she looked a little disconcerted. “I could have sworn that was the right one… they change around sometimes.”
“But-but-but…” Ryan thought rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. Simple little things, like how in the hell Pinkie just walked through a wall. “… How do we get back?”
“To our world? Through another crack. Duh.” She giggled, as if it were the most obvious thing ever.
… ‘Our’ world?
… I’m in ANOTHER world?

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Pinkie led him on a twisting, maze-like journey through the city.
And, Ryan had to admit, it was kind of cool.
According to Pinkie, this city was some kind of future version of ‘Trottingham’, or something like that. A large trading center in Equestria, it garnered all sorts of attention from all different kinds of races. At least, judging from the strange creatures Ryan saw milling about, he’d have guessed that was the case anyway.
Massive, queer looking dog-creatures peddling bags of gems to wide-eyed ponies, griffins with high-tech and impressive gadgets, and he even could have sworn he saw an ambiguously gay sea serpent in an enormous tank chatting about moustaches.

Of course, that was before he spotted a certain blue pegasus.
There was no mistaking the hue, the startled face, or the ruffled wings flying outward in panic as he backpedalled into a familiar building that Ryan had considered synonymous with bizarre.
The 8-Bits.

“Pink, check it!” Ryan exclaimed suddenly, jabbing a finger at the pub. It still had the same door, the same crooked swinging sign, the same dirty windows. In another world entirely.
“Rye-Pie, that’s not where the cra- where are you going?!” she jumped, turning on the spot once she realized that Ryan was instead making for the bar. She grabbed his wrist, pulling him backwards, but Ryan’s determination was unmatched. “You’ve got to stop – we need to hurry, before the crack moves…!”
But it was too late, of course; Ryan had already kicked the door inwards, eyes quickly adjusting to the light.

The 8-Bits had undergone quite a few changes since the last time he was in it.
For example, it no longer resembled a dingy sports bar. Several lights had been added, and it had become much wider than before. The room seemed to extend around a circular counter in the center of the room, the lime green earth pony the only thing reminiscent about the place. The entire place was packed with residents.
Ryan charged forward, shouting “Okay, which one o’ you ugly fucks seen a blue pegasus?”

At that point, Ryan felt compelled to become quite silent, as everyone else in the bar had done the same. The majority of them being blue Pegasi, themselves. Only a couple of them resembled… bats?
“… Aw, fuck me with a crowbar.”
“Pinkie.” The bubbly pink mare said quickly, holding up a hoof apologetically. Oddly enough, a collective ‘Oh,’ resounded throughout the bar when she did so, and everyone went back to minding their own business.
“Pink, what’re y- hey!” Ryan groused as Pinkie yanked him back outside. He hadn't even gotten to spend more than a couple of seconds searching for the mysterious pegasus. Unfortunately, however, they no longer seemed to be in the city.

He swore, the constant scenery changes were driving him insane.
“Oh, great – now look at what you’ve done!” Pinkie exclaimed angrily, scolding him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to rub the stars out of his eyes. The constant shifting of light and dark was bothering him more than he let on. The sky here seemed to be somewhere either at early morning or late evening – due to the heavy, gray quality of the clouds overhead, he couldn’t really tell. At least they were back in Ponyville, from the looks of it.

“What, what’d I do?” Ryan said grouchily, crossing his arms. “That was the guy!” A rather disturbing memory of that particular pegasus in the hospital room while he slept crossed his mind…
“No, Ryan – you don’t understand!” Pinkie said, her voice full of worry. Her mane had lost much of its frizz, and she looked positively exhausted. “We have to keep going and find a new crack, and quick!”
“Why can’t we just go… back?” he wondered, turning to face the wooden wall of a building instead of the entrance to the 8-Bits. The faded yellow painting on the side of the building looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen it.
“It doesn’t work like that, Ryan!” she said breathlessly, head waving wildly about as her tail began twitching violently. “We have to go forward, not back – forward! I said circle, didn’t I?”

Ryan shrugged, admitting “I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Pinkie groaned, eyes flitting around. She seemed genuinely worried about… something.
“… Why are you freakin’ out so much, anyways? We're back, ain't we?” he asked, peering around the corner of the alley. Strangely, Ponyville seemed relatively deserted for this time of day. He rapidly found his bearings once he spotted Sugarcube Corner, feeling rather proud of himself for doing so. “… Pinkie?” he asked, and discovered that she’d vanished.

“… Fuck.”
Trudging slowly through Ponyville, he began noticing certain things that he hadn’t spotted before. Things like badly boarded up or shattered windows, an eerie wind that blew quietly through the street. The only light around seemed to be coming from Sugarcube Corner, which was thoroughly untouched; it looked as fresh and neat as the day he’d first seen it and it’s confectionary-like construct.

“… Pinkie?” he called out uncomfortably, the silence beginning to become deafening. His voice echoed weirdly, and he made his way toward the only light source nearby. “… Lyra? Twilight? Anypony?”
He promptly scolded himself for saying ‘anypony’ again, but other concerns flooded his mind. The entire town seemed… deserted. Similar to the strange visit/vision of the future he’d gotten…
The last time I left the fucking Eight-Bits, Ryan thought warily, noting his own stupidity. He should have been more careful.

“Anybody home?”
Ryan budged the front door to Sugarcube Corner open carefully, as if it might explode.
It did not, in fact, explode.
He felt rather stupid once again, his heart racing. He wiped his palms on his pants and started to push the door open the rest of the way, before realizing that someone had already done so for him.
“Oh, there you are, Pink.” Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as the door snapped shut behind him, and Pinkie beamed at him.

“Hiya, Rye-Pie! I thought we took care of this already?”
A queer, tugging feeling suddenly overwhelmed him as he observed Pinkie Pie. Her mane had gone straight flat and almost metallic gray once again, and she’d donned an apron from the kitchen as she touted a small tray of freshly baked cupcakes in one hoof.
“Uh… are you… making cupcakes?” he asked, confused. “I… thought you was... in a rush ta get outta here.”
“Of course I’m not in a rush – silly filly!” Pinkie giggled, and the strange tugging nagged at him again. It was almost as if it were poking at the familiar spark, but he shoved it away immediately. If it had anything to do with magic, then it was something he didn’t want to be involved in. “I’ve just been taking care of things. Wanna help me make some cupcakes?”

Ryan paused, discovering that his palms had become quite sweaty again. For the life of him, he couldn’t determine why he’d suddenly become so… nervous. It could have been because of Pinkie’s unsettlingly large smile as she offered him the tray of cupcakes, pasted in multicolored frosting.
“Come on! Have a cupcake.”
“… Uh… n-no thanks…” Ryan said slowly, backing toward the door. Her oddly tilted head, the offered cupcakes when she’d been so terrified mere minutes ago, and the straight mane – he now silently congratulated himself on picking up details like that. “I think I’m gonna… go look for a way home.”
“Oh, silly Rye-Pie!” Pinkie giggled, and a shiver rippled up his back all the way from the base of his spine as he fingered with the locked door behind his back and why the hell was it locked? “I already have a way out of this world for you… as a matter of fact, your number just came up!”

Ryan never even saw the cleaver.

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Author's Notes:

Yeah, fear tastes a lot like frosting.
Funny, that.