(Warning: The preceding chapter title may have contained minor spoilers)

Spike grabbed a crate from the basement and ran upstairs, ignoring the shooting pain in his back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full night’s sleep: his sense of balance was wildly off kilter, and his vision faded in and out of focus.

“Hurry!” Twilight Sparkle said, “I need two more nonagonal receptacles!”

“I’m searching as fast as I can!” Spike said, “why are we in such a hurry, anyway? You said this spell would only take a little while to cast!”

“I know, but we have to get everything ready before anypony else notices the—” Twilight cut herself off and looked back at Spike. “I mean, we’ll... need time to test the spell. And write a report.”

Spike watched Twilight as she tore apart one of the devices and divided the components into neat little piles. He walked to the table and climbed up on a chair beside her.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he said. “You know that, right? I just want to help you!”

Twilight bit her lip. “You will, Spike. I promise. I can’t do this without you.”

“Do what?”

Twilight watched him for a moment. She looked back at her table and disintegrated another device, sorting its components. “I need more equipment. Bring up everything you can from the basement.”

“So you can just disintegrate everything else, too?” Spike said, “this stuff is really hard to come by! What if we need it later?”

“We may need the equipment later, but we need the parts right now. The spell is very simple, but it requires a very large apparatus.”

Spike threw up his hands. “What spell? Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Just get the equipment!” shouted Twilight. “If you’d stop asking questions and do as I say, we’d be be done by now!”

Spike recoiled from the look on her face. “B-b-but there isn’t anything left in the basement! You’ve already taken everything apart!”

“What? No! Impossible!” Twilight Sparkle lifted up a checklist. “We still need a perpetual immobility core. It’s absolutely essential!”

“We don’t have any of those! I swear, I looked all over!”

Twilight Sparkle stamped her hoof. “Then make one!”

Spike spread his hands to each side. “Out of what!? I don’t even know what they’re supposed to do!”

Twilight’s eyes twitched about wildly. She stepped in place, mumbling to herself. A moment later her gaze came to rest on the massive, mechanical pillar that ran through the center of the library.

“What? Oh, no!” Spike said, “oh, so very no-no-no! Not the spelly-welly thingy-wingy!”

“Why not? We don’t actually have to invent a new spell for this test, so we don’t really need it anymore. And it takes up so much space.”

“Twilight, it’s priceless! There’s only three of them in all of Equestria! They were hoofmade by Starswirl the Bearded’s very own apprentice, Magnetic Monopole the Mustachioed! Nopony even has a clue how he did it!”

Twilight clenched her teeth and scrunched her eyes shut. Her horn flashed with a blinding burst of light, and a whirlwind of gravitational force shuddered the very foundation of the library. Spike squinted through the maelstrom and saw the mechanical pillar warp and twist. The outer casing shattered outward revealing a vast array of delicate machinery: With one final blast of force, the pillar exploded and showered the library with tens of thousands of fragments.

Twilight levitated three of the smallest fragments and stuck them together. She turned and gave Spike a pleasant smile. “There, see? That wasn’t so hard.”

Spike stared up at the space where the pillar had been. The ceiling and walls were cracked in several places and a shower of wooden splinters and powdered plaster drifted down.

“Hurry, Spike. Not much time left.”

Spike lifted up a charred and crumpled chunk of the priceless apparatus. “What do you even need me for!?”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said, “you’ll know it when you see it.”

Her horn glowed and every piece of wreckage lifted into the air. The whirlwind of twisted metal and shattered crystal condensed in the center of the room, merging together seamlessly. Spike stared in shock as a massive machine took form, held together by sheer force of will. It grew larger and larger until it finally scraped the ceiling.

Spike could hear Twilight Sparkle’s voice through the noise. She was laughing.

Rainbow Dash flew up to the farmhouse and slammed her hooves against the wall. “Applejack! Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up!”

After a minute or so, Applejack thrust the window open and glowered at her. Her mane was a complete mess and there were dark rings under her eyes.

“This better be good.”

“It’s Twilight Sparkle! She—”

A voltaic explosion echoed from clear across the village, over a mile away: a howling gust of wind rippled the treetops and sent Rainbow Dash into a brief mid air tumble.

“That poor girl jes’ don’t know when to quit, do she?” Applejack swiped her hat from the bedstand and nodded to Rainbow Dash. “Tell the others to meet up at the library.”

“They’re already on their way. Fluttershy’s the only one left to warn.”

Applejack sprinted out of her room and down the hall and knocked on another door. “Granny Smith!”

“Wha... whazzat?”

“We got an emergency! Take Applebloom and Big Mac to the tornado shelter and whatever you do, don’t look back!”

Granny Smith opened the door, sharp eyed. “An’ what ‘bout you? Where ya think yer goin’, young lady?”

“I have to—”

Applejack froze as she saw the look in Granny’s eyes.

“I have to.”

Granny Smith hugged her around the neck. “You come back to us now, y’hear? It’s all’s I ask of ye.”

Applejack returned the hug, then galloped down the hall and ran out the front door. She stumbled to a halt after only a few steps: the clouds over Ponyville were swirling like a whirlpool in the night sky. Lightning crackled back and forth between the clouds, but never actually struck the ground.

A small crowd of her beloved family rushed out of the farmhouse only to stop and stare with her. Big Mac stood slack-jawed and a shaft of hay fell from his mouth.

Applebloom peered out from behind Granny Smith’s leg. “Whas’ goin on? Why’s the sky like that?”

Granny Smith uttered a piercing whistle that snapped the crowd out of its trance. “Storm shelter, everypony! Jes’ like we practice every year!”

Applebloom watched as her big sister galloped down the road, towards the maelstrom of lightning. “Where’s she goin’? Why ain’t she comin’ with us?”

Granny Smith pushed her along without a word.

“We gotta help’er!” Applebloom said, “ain’t there nuthin’ we can do to help?”

“We’ve got the hardest job of all,” Granny Smith said. “We wait. And we stand ready to pick up the pieces, if need be.”

Applejack met up with her friends and the five of them charged down mainstreet. The populace was in an uproar and the volunteer neighborhood watch struggled to keep the evacuation orderly.

“Does anypony have even the faintest idea what th’ sam hill is goin’ on!?”

“Not a clue,” said Rainbow Dash. “I heard an explosion or something from the library and by the time I got there everypony was running and screaming!”

“Yer a weather pony, aint’cha? Can’t ya do somethin’ about that storm?”

“That’s not weather!” she shouted. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s nothing natural about it!”

“Is it magic, then? Is this another one of Twilight's disasters?”

“It’s definitely magic,” Rarity said, “but it’s not like any kind I’ve ever encountered before. It’s not like unicorn magic at all. It feels like it’s alive!”

they charged down mainstreet together, and the treehouse library came into view ahead of them. The sound of grinding machinery drowned out the noise of the fleeing crowd, and the entire building blew apart at once: huge tree branches and wall-mounted bookshelves arced through the air and crashed into the walls and rooftops of adjacent buildings.

Applejack stared at the devastation. “Oh my lawsey...”

The five friends stopped in their tracks as a giant megalith of scientific apparatus emerged from the wreckage of the library. It was made of gears and girders, and covered all over with electrified spikes and thickly bundled wires. The machinery contorted and unfolded itself into a spire that reached up for the sky: on the very tip of it was a metal ring, within which Twilight Sparkle was chained spread eagle.

“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “Hang in there, pal! We’ll get you out of that thing!”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Twilight shouted down, her voice unnaturally loud. “You can’t stop me! None of you can!”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “You did this on purpose? Do you have any idea what the hey yer doing!?”

“I know exactly what I have to do!” Twilight yelled back. “I’ve known from the very beginning, and none of you even tried to understand!”

“Just look at yerself!” Applejack shouted. “You’re doing all this just to finish a homework assignment on time?”

“This isn’t about the project, you fools! It never was! It’s about dedication! Commitment! Perseverance! I refuse to be known as the only student Celestia ever had who quit on her!”

Rainbow Dash turned to Applejack. “Did she actually say ‘you fools’?”

“Darling, please!” Rarity said, “there’s got to be another way! There simply must be!”

“Even if there is, why settle for anything less? I’ve tried time and time again, and every single one of my spells went horribly right. Well, no more! I refuse to go down as the greatest success in history! This will be the greatest failure of all time, and when it does fail, it will be my failsafe spell that prevents disaster!”

“But this is a test!” said Rarity. “You don’t even know if it will work!”

“I find your concern touching Rarity, I really do. But I’ve taken every conceivable precaution. If this spell does cause a disaster, I will be the only one harmed by it. I could never allow anypony else to shoulder such a terrible responsibility.”

“That tears it,” said Applejack. “Rainbow Dash: see if you can smash that fancy gee-gaw of hers.”

“On it!”

Rainbow Dash swooped ahead but bounced off a cylindrical forcefield. The impact sent a glowing ripple along its otherwise invisible surface, revealing a barrier large enough to enclose the entire spire.

Rainbow Dash sat up and shook her head. “Oh, for pete’s sake! Why does this always happen to me, first?”

“Rarity!” said Applejack. “I hope you brought a counterspell or three with ya!”

“My spellcraft can’t possibly compare to hers,” Rarity said, “but it’s still better than nothing. I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Fluttershy!” Applejack said, “that barrier-thingy may stop us from gettin’ in, but she can still see us. And if she can see us—”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I don’t know if I can stare her down! Not like this!”

“You’ve gotta try, Flutter! It might be our only hope!”

Fluttershy circled around the spire, steadily gaining altitude. She came to eye level with Twilight Sparkle and waved at her. “I want you to know I’m very disappointed in you!”

“Spike!” Twilight shouted, “activate countermeasure Alpha Gamma!”

“Right away, boss!” Spike ran around the base of the spire, swinging under pipes and climbing along girders. He jumped in front of a control panel and pushed a button: a small metal arm extended from the tip of the spire and placed a blindfold over Twilight’s eyes.

“Spike, how could you!” Rarity ran to the base of the forcefield and pressed her front hooves against it. “Don’t you see what’s happening? She’ll tear herself apart! How can you help her do this!?”

Spike glanced between Rarity and the machine, wringing his claws. “I-I’m sorry, Rarity! I don’t expect you to understand!”

Rarity scowled at him with tears in her eyes.  “I understand perfectly fine, thank you very much! Thanks to this forcefield, you might be the only one who can stop her! You can still do what’s best for her!”

“Spike!” shouted Twilight Sparkle. “Activate phase two, Spike! Do it now!”

“I’m sorry, Rarity, but we’ve come too far to turn back now. Someone has to be there with her, to see it through to the very end!”

Spike turned to go, but let out a cry of pain. He fell to his knees and clutched at his back.

Rarity’s lower lip trembled. “Spike, please! She’s overworked you to the breaking point, and beyond! She’s hurting you!”

“The switch, Spike!” Twilight called, “throw the switch!”

Spike forced himself back to his feet and lurched towards the machine, his back severely hunched over by a cramp. “Yes, master! Right away, master!”

Rarity looked back to her friends. “Somepony do something! Anything!”

“How!?” Rainbow Dash said. “We don’t even know what she’s trying to do!”

“I know.”

Applejack turned to look at Pinkie Pie, who was staring straight up.

“You know? Well then spill the beans!”

Pinkie Pie simply pointed up. The jet black hole at the center of the hurricane was directly above them. As they watched, a thin line of icy-blue light cut across the middle of it, like a bag being slit open from underneath. The slit opened wide to reveal an eye the size of a city block: a jewel-blue cornea with a black slit of a pupil.

Rarity stared up in awe. “I’ve seen that eye before.”

“We all have,” said Applejack. “A pair of ’em, in fact. Is this spell doing what I think it’s doing?”

Twilight’s voice boomed down from the spire. “It’s here, Spike! It came through! Now all we have to do is get it’s attention!”

“Phase three it is, ma’am!”

Spike pulled another lever and the base of the spire began to transform: machinery whirled and flexed, and a fan of giant brass tubes arranged themselves like the feathers of a wing. Spike pulled open a panel to reveal a row of black and white keys. He flexed his claws one last time, and played.

The sound from the pipe organ blasted with the force of a hurricane and sent the five ponies sprawling to the ground. The song was a dirge: a tragic, mournful melody that carried all the sorrow and anguish the world had to offer. There was no one, singular theme: it called to mind every trial and tribulation any of them had ever experienced. There was no trace of anger or bitterness: only mournful, aching lamentation.

Fluttershy stood up for only a moment before collapsing again. “Make it stop... please, make it stop!” Tears streamed down her face, and her throat was choked with sobs.

“We can’t... we can’t let it get to us!” said Applejack. Her face was tear-streaked, but she manage to keep her voice under control. “There’s gotta be somethin’ we can do!”

“Come on, girls!” Pinkie Pie said, “Don’t listen to it! It’s not over yet!”

Her encouragement went ignored: all four of her friends were sobbing uncontrollably under the terrible weight of the dirge.

Twilight Sparkle called down. “Girls? Are you... are you still there?”

Pinkie Pie looked up at the distant figure. “I’m here, Twilight! I’m still here for ya!”

Twilight could barely talk through the tears. “I d-d-didn’t want it to be like this! I never... wanted to... oh please, I’m so sorry! I just wanna get down! I just wanna go home again!”

As Twilight began to sob, rippling holes appeared in the forcefield. Pinkie Pie jumped through one of the openings and galloped to the base of the spire. “Hang on, Twilight! I’m comin’ to getcha!”

“Oh no you don’t!” said Spike. He jumped down from the bench and bared his claws at her. “The boss lady said not to let anyone interrupt the experiment. Not even you!”

“What about Twilight?” said Pinkie Pie. “What if she wanted to interrupt the experiment?”

“Especially not her: She said there was a forty-seven-point-two percent chance that she’d chicken out.”

“That’s because chickening out is the completely appropriate response to this situation!”

“Don’t say that!” said Spike, “Twilight isn’t a coward! She’s not!”

Pinkie Pie stepped closer, ignoring Spike’s claws and teeth. “She’s afraid, Spike. Listen to her. She’s afraid!”

Spike glared at her, but briefly glanced up. Twilight’s terrified sobbing continued to echo over the rooftops of Ponyville. Spike’s claws slowly unclenched.

“What... what have I done?” He stared back at the gothic pipe organ and grabbed his own head. “What am I doing!? How do I un-do it!?”

“We can figure this out together,” said Pinkie Pie. “What’s the next stage of the plan?”

Spike pointed up at the eye in the sky: a great bulge of crystal clear liquid had gathered across it’s surface, waiting to drip down on them.

“We need it’s tears. The song is supposed to make it cry, and the falling tears turn you into a—” Spike’s throat clenched. “It turns you into something bad. But the song also makes you cry, and if you can’t keep your emotions under control then it doesn’t transform you. You just... poof.”

Pinkie Pie stared at him. “Poof?”

“Yeah. Poof. No more you. It’s supposed to be a ‘test of will’ thingy. Only the worthy ponies survive.”

“So we gotta make it cry, do we?” Pinkie Pie cricked her neck to one side. “I have a better idea. If a sad song brought it here, I bet a happy song will make it go away!”

Spike grinned at her and pumped his fist in the air. “Pinkie Pie, you’re a genius!”

“Thanks, but don’t tell anypony. I’d rather it didn’t get out.”

Pinkie Pie sat in front of the giant pipe organ and held her hooves over the keys. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering her thoughts and feelings. A moment later she turned to Spike with a gasp.

“Oh-mi-gosh, Spike. I just remembered something!”

“What? What!?”

“I don’t know how to play a pipe organ!”

Spike stared at her, one eyelid twitching. “Are you kidding me?”

Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes. “Spike, please. If I was kidding, you’d be laughing.”

“But you know how to play every single instrument in all of Equestria! You know how to play the hurdy gurdy, the zither, and the didgeridoo at the same time! How can you not know how to play a pipe organ!?”

“Look, I missed that day at the Learn Every Musical Instrument In Equestria In Just Six Days university.”

“What!?” Spike said, “You made that up! There’s no such thing!”

“No no, I’m sure there is.” Pinkie Pie gazed upwards and to the left in fond remembrance.

Teenaged Pinkamina Diane Pie took a deep, relaxing breath as she stepped out of the grand front doors of the prestigious, ivy-league Learn Every Musical Instrument In The World In Just Six Days university. The lollipop trees and candy-corn flowers all waved and smiled at her as she walked past and there were only a few fluffy pink bits of cotton candy in the sky. She was wearing her neon-colored aerobics suit, because learning musical instruments was seriously hard work. She hefted her saddlebag, which was filled with one of every idiophone percussion instrument in the world in alphabetical order: from the Agung a Tamlang to the Xylophone.

“Wow,” Pinkemina said to herself aloud even though there was nopony else within earshot, “I can’t believe I’ve almost finished learning every single instrument in the world! There’s like two thousand of them, and it comes out to about three minutes and thirty six seconds for each one. They don’t even give you time to sleep or eat, either: this is the first twelve second break I’ve had all week!”

Pinkie Pie gasped as one of her colt classmates stepped around the corner. “Hello, Pinkemina. Do you have a minute to talk? It’s really important.”

“Of course I do, Handsomeface Hotbod! We’ve had all the same classes ever since we started school,” Pinkemina exposited. “We’re practically the best of friends!”

“I know,” said Handsomeface, stepping close enough to enter her personal space, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you as just a friend. I have... feelings for you!”

“Gasp!” Pinkemina gasped, “You mean all this time, you’ve been hiding feelings?”

“I was afraid, Pinkemina! So very afraid that we could never be together because you were too good for me! I know you’ll soon become a world-famous, globetrotting chocolatier, and I’m naught but a humble olympic bodybuilder and part time underpants model who owns a mansion, a four-thousand-foot luxury yacht with a full fruit-and-berries smoothie bar, and a theme park with four roller coasters... but my heart tells me we were meant to be together!”

“Oh, Handsomeface!” Pinkemina said, “I still care about you, even though you’re so cool and awesome!”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say those words that you said. You’re just the sort of pony I’d love to hug and cuddle when we’re all alone, but not get too cuddly with in public when you’re hanging out with your friends because that might embarrass them, and I wouldn’t want our relationship to have a negative impact on the many long-lasting friendships you’ll no doubt form in the immediate future.” Handsomeface swept her off her hooves and leaned her way back. “And now, if I may be so bold...I think it’s time we did something very special. Something that only very special friends do. Would you come with me? To my bedroom? And onto... my bed?”

“You mean!?” gasped Pinkemina as she gasped.

“Yes. I want us to jump up and down on my bed together! It’s actually less of a bed, and more of a trampoline. With sheets and a comforter. There may be a pillow fight afterwards.”

Pinekmina gazed up at him and fluttered her eyelashes, all sultry like. “Or perhaps a pillow fight... during?”

Handsomeface spoke breathlessly as he breathed on her face with his breath. “For you, my wild and wacky Pinkemina... anything.”

“Wacky? Oh, such romantic talk! But I just remembered we have classes today. Since we’re students, and all. Who attend a university that is totally real.”

“That, we do. So very real, and not imaginary. But surely you can cut classes for just one day?”

“Let me check my schedule.”

Pinkamina took out a brochure and scanned the listings. “Let’s see. Monday was every string instrument. Tuesday was every wind instrument. Wednesday was every keyboard instrument except for pipe organs. Thursday and Friday were every percussion instrument, split between idiophones and membranophones. And today is pipe organs.”

“Just pipe organs?” said the stallion whose name Pinkamina couldn’t quite remember at just that very moment (but I mean come on, she has to remember everypony’s names all the time and that’s not easy, so give her a break just this once). “They give us three minutes and thirty seconds to learn each of the other instruments in the world, with no sleep or lunch breaks, and then they give us a whole entire day for just pipe organs?”

“Shrug!” shrugged Pinkemina, with a shrug. “But that means if we play hookey today, we’ll only miss out on one single instrument. If it were any other day, we’d miss out on three hundred and thirty three—point three-three-three repeating, of course—instruments. Talk about a lucky break!”

“Well, all right then, but what if you need to play the pipe organ sometime? Like, what if one of your best friends is about to suffer a horrible fate worse than doom and the only way you can save her is to play the pipe organ?”

Pinkemina rolled her eyes. “That’s a pretty unlikely scenario there, buddy.”

“Well, it could happen. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Pffsh!” Pinkemina pffshed. “Even if it does happen, I’m sure my friends would understand completely. It’s not everyday somepony asks you to jump up and down on the bed!”

“As you desire, my fluffy little cotton-candy!”

“Darn-tootin’. Now, tell me more about... my smile.”

“Wow Pinkie Pie,” said Spike, “I never knew all that stuff that you just told me. If it’s true, I can totally understand why you played hooky that day: Handsomeface Hotbod was a total hunk, and he even cared about letting you maintain your existing friendships, which is a rare and desirable trait among eligible stallions!”

“Yeah, I know!” said Pinkie Pie. “Anyways, that’s why I can’t play the pipe organ.”

“That’s completely understandable, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it no matter how helpless and afraid you may really be on the inside. But we still need to save Twilight Sparkle from a fate worse than doom!”

“I have just the thing,” said Pinky Pie. She took a giant yellow balloon out of her saddlebag and blew it up, then twisted and folded it into a balloon airplane that looked like a banana.

“This is perfect!” said Spike. “We can fly this straight up to Twilight and rescue her! And I just so happen to be an ace balloon-banana-plane pilot. Or, as we in the biz call them: balloonana planes.”

“And that’s not all I brought with me,” she said. “I got you a giant striped lollipop that always tastes like something different each time you lick it!”

“That’s amazing!” said Spike. “Can I dress up as a foppish english child while I eat it? With a powdered wig and a neck ruffle and everything?”

Pinkie Pie gave him a profound and sagely nod. “Nuthin’ wrong with that, my friend. Nuthin’ wrong at all.”

Pinkie Pie gave Spike a desperate, hopeful grin as the hurricane of dark energies loomed over all of Ponyville. The giant slitted eye still threatened to release its tear, and four of her best friends continued to thrash about on the ground and sob uncontrollably.

“Are you insane?” said Spike. “I didn’t say any of that! None of that ever happened! Why are we even talking about this at all!?”

“All right, so I might have embroidered the truth just a teensy-eensy-weensy bit. But it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t play the pipe organ.”

“Aaaargh!” Spike grabbed at his spines and pulled them as hard as he could.

“Why don’t you play it? You were playing it before, right?”

“I don’t know any happy pipe-organ songs!” he said. “I need sheet music to play it!”

“There’s gotta be something you can play by ear, just real quick! What about... you know, the... duhn duh-duh-duhn, duhn duh-duh-duhn!” You know how that goes, right?”

“I guess I could try,” Spike said, “but are you sure that’s the best song? I always thought it was kind of depressing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just play!”

Spike climbed up onto the bench and set his claws over the keys. He took a few short, sharp breaths, and started playing Frédéric Clopin’s ‘Funeral Dirge.’ The sound of sobbing instantly became louder and harsher.

Pinkie Pie slapped the side of Spike’s head. “Not that song! What are you thinking!?”

“That was the one you said! Duhn, duhn duh-duhn, duhn duh-duhn duh-duhn duh-duhn!”

“That wasn’t what I said at all! I said duhn duh-duh-duhn, duhn duh-duh-duhn!”

“It’s pipe organ music!” said Spike. “They all sound like that!”

“Okay, okay. You’re thinking of the funeral song. I was thinking of the wedding song. Remember? The one they play when the bride walks down the aisle? That’s cheerful, right?”

“Right, right. Just a sec...”

Spike turned to the keyboard and played a medley of the organ music traditionally performed at baseball stadiums.

“There, like that? They play that at weddings, don’t they?”

“Yes! Exactly that! Keep playing!” Pinkie Pie looked up at the tip of the spire, and at the sky above. “The eye isn’t doing anything different yet, but the music might buy us some time. We gotta get Twilight down from there!”

“Twilight mentioned a release mechanism, but she never said what it was. She might be able to tell you!”

Pinkie Pie rushed back to her friends and checked their vitals: they were still sobbing, but less intensely. She ran to Fluttershy and crouched beside her. “Fluttershy, quick! Somepony has to fly up to Twilight and ask her how to get her out of this thing!”

Fluttershy looked up at her, trembling with sorrow. “I cuh-cuh-can’t do anything right!”

Pinkie Pie grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Snap out of it, mare! I need you to stop being a Flutter-try, and start being a Flutter-do! Are you gonna just quit on your bestest friend? Did your momma raise a quitter!?”

Fluttershy clenched her jaw and looked up at the lidless eye in the sky. Twilight’s tormented wailing was barely audible through the storm.

“My momma didn’t raise no quitter!”

Fluttershy snapped her wings out and took to the sky, spiralling around the pillar as she gained altitude. Huge metal spikes thrust out of the machine and crackled with electricity, and Fluttershy whirled and spun between the obstacles in a ballet of death. She came to the very tip and hovered in front of the metal hoop where Twilight was chained, thrashing about and bawling like a newborn foal.

Fluttershy hovered in front of her, struggling against the wind. “I’m here, Twilight! Focus on the happy music: you gotta try and be happy!”

“I hate that song!” Twilight said between sobs. “My phys-ed teacher made me play buh-buh-baseball, even though I was horrible at it! I was a laughingstock all year!”

Fluttershy bit her lip and looked up at the eye: she couldn’t be certain, but the tear seemed to be bulging just a little more.

“You gotta focus!” she said. “You need to tell us how to stop the machine! Tell us how to set you free!”

Twilight shook her head. “I built it so I couldn’t get free, no matter what! There are no release switches!”

“None!? But Spike said—”

“I just told him that to stop him from pestering me! I didn’t have any time to waste!”

Fluttershy scanned the metal ring, searching for locks or joints. “There must be a way to stop it! Some way to break it open!”

“There isn’t! Don’t you see, Fluttershy? It’s hopeless! There’s no—”

Fluttershy reached out and held Twilight Sparkle’s face, gazing into her eyes. The sound and fury of the storm faded away, and a tiny circle of calm surrounded them both.

“Let it go, Twilight... let it go.”

“Wh—what!?”

“There is nothing you have done that cannot be forgiven. You’ve caused no pain or suffering that cannot be healed.” Fluttershy stroked her hair aside. “You’ve done this to yourself. And you have the power to stop it.”

“Myself.” Twilight’s head lowered and he shoulders shook. “I did this all to myself... from the very beginning...”

“And you can end it,” Fluttershy said, “but first, you must want it to end.”

“So it’s all my fault, is it?” Twilight looked up at her, teeth clenched. Her shoulders shook not with sorrow, but with unbridled rage. “Is that what you’re saying? That I deserve everything that’s happened to me? That my hopes and dreams are impossible!?”

“What!? No, that’s not—”

“That book was right about you!” Twilight screamed. “You don’t understand me! You never even tried!”

Fluttershy backed away. Oh no...!

“Darn my science, huh? Darn my science, and darn me to heck!? I’ll show you! I’ll show you all!”

Fluttershy glanced up as the vast eye slowly blinked. The glistening tear bulged down and broke free, gleaming with the cold light of the moon. She could see phantoms swirling within its watery depths: translucent mares that writhed and cavorted about. The great eye opened again, watching as the tear hurtled closer to its victim.

Fluttershy flew away as fast as she could. She glanced up for an instant, and saw the faint little wrinkles to either side of the giant eye. It didn’t look sad at all. It looked like it was smiling.

“You’ll understand!” Twilight screamed. “I’ll make you understand!!”

The five friends galloped down main street, fleeing as the giant tear descended from the sky like a meteor. Applejack and Rarity each kept a firm grip on one of Rainbow Dash’s wings and dragged her along.

“We shouldn’t be running away!” Rainbow Dash shouted, “we should be running towards her!”

“There’s nothing more we can do!” Fluttershy said. “We have to get out of here before it affects us all!”

“Nuts to that!” Rainbow Dash shouted, “We gotta help her! There must be something we can do to help!”

“Of course there is,” said Applejack. “We wait. And we stand ready to pick up the pieces, if need be.”

“Pick up the pieces!?” Dash said. She pointed back at the falling tear: it had broken apart into a chilling rain of droplets. “Look at her! There won’t even be any pieces left to pick up!”

“We can’t help her!” Fluttershy shouted. “There’s nothing we can do! Nothing at all!”

The others stared at her.

Fluttershy’s voice softened. “You can’t help somepony who doesn’t want to be helped.”

Rainbow Dash stared at each of her friends in turn. She gave one last heave and broke free of her captors, streaking back towards the spire.

The rain of tears fell to the ground like a shower of icy comets, and every one contained a wailing, phantasmal skull. The rain of destruction demolished the spire and its immediate surroundings in a torrent of raw, cosmic power. The downpour was thick and heavy, and—like any other summer rain—it was over in moments.

The eye above closed. The storm faded away.

Rainbow Dash glided to a halt and dropped to the ground. “But... no!”

The five friends walked the last little way to the library, staring ahead. The shattered pieces of the spire were scattered about, protruding from the scorched earth like a field of makeshift tombstones. Droplets of greasy, sooty fire rained down and sputtered out. A few giant brass tubes from the pipe organ crashed to the ground around them: they walked on, oblivious to the shuddering impacts.

They came at last to the smoking wreckage of the library. The hardwood floor was scorched and the wall was nothing more than a short lip of shredded wood.

Dash’s ears perked up. “Do you girls hear something?”

“Music...?” Rarity whispered.

Pinkie Pie scraped at a bit of rubble and picked up a tiny music box: the plinking notes were barely audible over the clicking and whirring of the device.

“It was a birthday present,” said Pinkie Pie, “from her parents.”

“Her birthday?” said Rarity. “Which one?”

“Her first. It’s a lullaby box... for foals.”

“Look over there!” Rainbow Dash pointed at a sapphire blue length of hair with a brilliant rose-colored streak, barely visible under a collapsed bookshelf. She ran over to the huge chunk of wreckage and looked underneath it. “She’s under there, I can see her! She might still be okay!”

“Okay!?” said Applejack. “Would ya look at the size of that bookshelf? You’d need a crane to—”

Rainbow Dash set her front hooves under the edge of the shelf and pulled against it. She let out a furious roar, and reared up: the giant slab of charred oak hurled up and away and landed with a deafening crash.

“She’s okay!” Rainbow Dash rushed over to Twilight Sparkle’s limp body. “You guys, look at her! She doesn’t even have any scrapes or bruises!”

They rushed to her side and peered down at their friend. Fluttershy knelt beside her and touched her neck.

“Well what’re you doing? Wake her up, already!”

Fluttershy looked up at her. “She’s... not okay.”

“Whaddya mean, she’s not okay? She looks fine!”

Fluttershy looked up at her. “Dash, she’s gone. No breathing. No pulse. Nothing.”

Dash walked in place. “Well, we gotta... we gotta take her to a hospital!”

Fluttershy shook her head.

“What do you mean? She... she can’t be...” Her voice trailed off. “Oh... oh.”

The tune from the music box slowed down and finally came to a halt. Pinkie Pie set it on the floor next to Twilight Sparkle.

Rainbow Dash lowered her head. “Oh.”

Twilight Sparkle snapped her head up and shrieked. Her wide-open eyes were jet black orbs filled with points of swirling light, and her voice was like a chorus of knives being sharpened. She thrashed about and grabbed at her own head as if she were trying to claw something out of herself.

Fluttershy darted forward and slammed a hoof against the side of Twilight Sparkle’s head. Her shrieking ceased, and her eyes rolled up in their sockets. She fell to the ground limp and twitching.

“Hospital?” said Rainbow Dash.

Applejack shook her head. “Prison.”

The haze slowly lifted from her mind and her senses began to return. Her eyes hurt whenever she tried to open them, but she could still hear: the faint scrape of stone and the clink of metal. A steady, rhythmic dripping.

Where...? What has happened?

She concentrated on the dripping sound, using the rhythm to focus her thoughts and cast aside the last of the haze. She managed to open her eyes just a crack and squinted at her surroundings like a newborn foal. There were thick stone walls all around, and a solid metal door with a tiny barred slit for a window. She tried to move, and heard the clanking of chains. There were non-physical restraints as well: she could smell the magic seal that had been fused into the walls of the room itself.

“Where... where art We?” she called out. “For what crime hath We been imprisoned?”

She paused for a moment.

Did We just say ‘We’? Did We just think We!?

She heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

 “Who goes there? Answer Us!”

“It’s awake!” somepony said. “Tell the Elements at once: it’s awake!!”

She pulled against her chains and tested their strength. “Please, We must speak with thy marshal! We wish to know why We hath been imprisoned!” She pulled against the chains a little harder and tore them out of the wall with a deafening crack.

She let out a startled squeak. “Sorry! Truly, We art sorry!”

Somepony peered through the slitted window of the door. His eyes widened, and hoofbeats ran down the corridor.

“Please, do not fear us! We only meant to—” She took a step forward and tore the rest of her chains from the wall. She hadn’t even thought about them: it had been effortless. “No, please! We mean thee no harm!”

Hoofbeats charged closer. “The elements are on their way! Barricade the door and buy them a few seconds!”

“We merely wish to speak with thee!” She set her ear to the door and listened carefully. Heavy metal slats were being braced against the other side. “Please, there has been a terrible misunderstanding!”

A younger voice spoke up, worried. “Sergeant? She sounds kinda scared. Maybe we should—”

“Stow it!” snapped a gruff voice. “Applejack ordered us not to listen to it: there’s no telling what it might do if it breaks free!”

“Applejack?” she said. “We know that name! Please, We must speak with her immediately!”

The guards ignored her.

If they will not allow Us our rightful freedom, We must needs take it by force! She lowered her head and pointed her horn at the door, but nothing happened. There was no light or sound.

No matter. If our magic has failed Us, We will simply have to resort to a display of vulgar strength! She turned to the door and lowered her head, this time with a snort, but paused at the last moment. What about the ponies on the other side? Would they come to harm?

She bit her lip and stared at the door. Her eyes darted to the side.

She lowered her head and charged through the wall to the left, pushing through two feet of stone and mortar. It felt soft and light, like freshly fallen snow crunching under a hoof. She stepped into the adjacent cell and charged into the hall, tearing the door frame out of the wall with a shower of stone chips and dust.

The troop of guards stared at her, aghast.

“Please, becalm yourselves!” she said, “We mean you no harm, truly!”

The guards screamed in terror and fled down the hall. She gave chase, and caught up with them easily. She grabbed the tail of a straggler and pulled him back. He fell to the floor and stared up at her in horror.

“Why dost thou fear us? We wish only to—” She paused to peer down at him. “Thou art tiny! Why art thou so tiny?”

He scrambled to his feet and galloped away. She gave chase, and came to the ground floor of the local police station: The guards were shouting orders to evacuate the building.

“Thou art all tiny! How can this be? What has happened!?”

“Twilight Sparkle!”

Her eyes snapped to the front door. We know that voice!

“Ah’m a callin’ you out, Twilight Sparkle!”

Twilight Sparkle walked to the front door in a daze. She opened the doors wide and stepped out, wincing at the noonday sun. When her eyes adjusted, she saw her friends lined up in front of the building. They stepped back, eyes wide with shock, and only Applejack stood her ground.

“We know thee,” she whispered. “We know thy faces!”

“T-T-Twilight?” said Fluttershy. “Is that you under there?”

“What dost thou mean? We art under nothing!” She frowned at them. “Wait. One of our friends is absent. Where—”

“Cannonbaaaaaall!”

Twilight looked to one side as a rainbow missile streaked at her from over the rooftops. Rainbow Dash slammed into Twilight’s side like a battering ram, yet her posture barely shifted at all. Rainbow Dash bounced off of her and fell to the ground, both eyes spinning.

“Rainbow Dash! Art thou injured?” She leaned down and nudged her cheek.

Applejack took a half step closer. “Now, don’t you do anything to her! If you harm even one hair on her head, you’ll pay for it ten times over!”

“Harm her!?” Twilight Sparkle looked up at her, distraught. “We would never do such a thing, for we are the very best of friends! Are we not?”

Some of the tension faded from Applejack’s posture.

“...Are we not?” Twilight whispered.

Pinkie Pie walked over. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

“What hath happened here? And why art thou so small?”

Pinkie Pie walked around her and pointed at one the police station’s large front windows. Twilight stepped over and gazed at her reflection.

“...Mirror.”

Rarity bit her lip. “I don’t know if that’s—”

“Mirror!” Twilight Sparkle said, “I must have a Mirror!”

After a moment’s hesitation, Rarity pointed her horn at the window and cast a spell that covered the far side of the glass with a thin layer of polished silver.

Twilight Sparkle stared at her perfect reflection: she towered over her friends, and her mane rippled and flowed as if it were underwater. Her horn was much longer and her wings were thick and stocky, like an owl’s. An aura of sparkles surrounded her coat and mane and a tiny swarm of silver fireflies danced around her head. She looked back at her flank: her cutie mark was unchanged, but was now surrounded by a frame of delicate silver calligraphy. It was like the illumination around a diploma or certificate, and it wasn’t just silver colored: it gleamed like actual silver leaf.

Twilight Sparkle stared into her reflection, agape. It still looked like her, but... bigger. Stronger. Magnificent. Sublime, even.

“By the zeroth law of thermodynamics!” said Twilight Sparkle. She lifted her head and struck a majestic pose as her hair rippled in the ebb and flow of some intangible cosmic wind. “We’re gorgeous!”

Next Chapter: %i%: Then she gets better. Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 50 Minutes