Time Tuner

by Zephyrus Scary

First published 22nd of June, 2013

I am the mad scientist, Hououin Kyouma! I am the one who will destroy the world’s ruling structure! -right after I save it…

When Okabe Okarin HOUOUIN KYOUMA destroyed Kurisu’s time travel research before it could start World War III (again), he didn’t realize this wouldn’t stop any inventors’ ambitions of developing a time machine, and something disastrous must have happened, if Hououin can judge from waking up in a completely different body! However, HOUOUIN KYOUMA Time Turner, as the only one with the full Reading Steiner ability, is the only one who remembers… There’s no time to worry about such things, however, because it’s not long before he finds himself forced to use time travel again in order to stop an insane physical god bent on initiating eternal night, and that’s just the beginning…

*Crossover with “Steins;Gate” (only the anime canon, minus the OVA, in case there are any significant differences with the VA or conflicts I run into with the OVA I wouldn’t know about). Watching it would be beneficial, but I’ll try to write this so such is not necessary, which will have the obvious result of SPOILERS for the anime.

Through Stein's Gate Again?

So… sick! “Ghuh?…hng…” The only thing I can tell for sure is that I’m laying on what I can only assume to be a very soft bed that I’m mostly sure I never owned; shifting under the blankets, it feels like I’m trying to pull my arms out from under a concrete slab, and I can’t tell if that’s because of the weight of the blankets or my own weakness. Wiping at the sweat of my fever, I dimly note my sense of touch has been afflicted by whatever has invaded my body, for all I feel is a single, distant pressure, and upon testing my fingers by flexing them, they barely respond or at least I don’t feel them moving. What happened?

“Uhhfuh…huhng…keh?” Too sick… Can’t think…! Only moan pitifully… like… a moaning, pitiful thing. Like I-

I! Like what happened to me when I was a kid! When-! Reading Steiner-! That’s it—that’s what I’d needed to jolt into relative lucidity. Relative, because although the shock lends me enough strength to sit up, the interest is swift and terrible, promptly sending me back bed-ward even weaker than before, and the bounce agitates my headache back into existence. “Oh. Ooooh. Bad… idea.” I manage to mutter past a tongue and palette made thick, sticky, and strange by a lack of saliva.

Apparently, and thankfully, the sounds of my stirring has attracted attention by… my caregivers? Two sets of footsteps on the wooden floor meet my ears… or is that just another symptom? On that note, as the footsteps get louder to the point of being painful, I’m pretty sure I feel muscles I never had twitching… or perhaps I simply forgot I had them thanks to my fever. A mystery for another time; right now I need to deal with the cause! “Don’t step so loud,” I try to yell, but I don’t even reach my normal speaking voice, achieving a sore throat more than volume. “… Please,” I add after considering that Kurisu might be one of those coming to check up on me; thankfully, the footsteps soften and come at more manageable intervals.

When I hear a doorknob click, I turn towards the sound and squint, expecting to be tortured by lights, but all that meets me is a wavering candle flame. Huh, how long has it been since I’ve seen one of those? Strange, I guess, but also quite considerate of-. Upon finally looking up to my mystery nurse, even my thoughts freeze in place for a moment. Cogs slowly creaking back to life, my mind jumps to the word “equine”, even though I know very well that no horse, zebra, pony, or any such creature ever looked or ever will look like that!

Giant visible sclera, no doubt capable of looking forward to provide stereoscopic vision (what kind of herbivore would need such a thing?!), but this one’s eyes are currently… the only word that comes to mind at the moment is “derped”: facing in two different, uncoordinated (as far as I can tell) directions. Her gold eyes, blond…—“mane” is it called? I do think so—mane, and gray coat of fur, by contrast, don’t seem all that unusual for an equine, but I’m no… “horse-scientist”. “Equinologist”? Oof, now I know this fever is getting to me! That expressionful face does not belong to an equine!… “Expressionful”? What am I saying?! -thinking?!

“Tutuu ruu! Good Mor- Ah, Afternoon, Timer!” The creature somehow manages to make perfect human-like sounds with its—her?—muzzle. Actually, she sounds a lot like Mayuri, especially with that distinct signature greeting… I’ll just assume it’s safe to assume she is, for now. … Wait, what was that thought again? “assume that it’s safe to assume it’s safe to be safe to-?… Darn fever! “Derpy heard you stirring, and thought if you woke up enough this time that you’d like some soup, so she heated some up for you! Derpy made sure to make some without anything in it this time, so it’ll be easy to eat! eh… or drink?” Slowly, I realize that that Mayuri is actually carrying a tray in her mouth, yet speaking rather easily—enough that I hadn’t noticed any distortion—upon which is a bowl (supposedly of soup), a spoon, and the candle I had noted earlier when Mayuri had entered. Mayuri… or “Derpy”?

Whichever… “Ah, Mayuri? Soup? How do you expect me to eat it? I can barely feel my hands.”

“Derpy can help!” Her eyes close from pure cheer as she steps up to me and places the tray beside me on the bed. “After all, it’s a hostage’s job to care for their, uhm, hostage-taker, right, Timer?”—“Hostage”… This is definitely Mayuri—“Oh, and Derpy doesn’t know what a ‘Mayuri’ is, she-…” Her words trail off as I watch her carefully take the spoon between her teeth and scoop up some of the soup; something is closing in on my mind.

Something important…

“Mayuri,” I interrupt—I think. Had she stopped talking before? Her expression, specifically the shape of her lips, suggests she had been in the middle of vocalizing something. “I think I need to go to the hospital.”

Still holding the soup-filled spoon, she pulls her head back in what I think is an expressing of surprise, if this creature has similar mannerisms to humans, which it has so far displayed as true. “The hospital? -but why? You’re getting so much better!” She goes back to looking cheerful. “-Especially your fever; it’s almost gone!”

“Listen to me: I’m hallucinating,” I say as clearly and seriously as I can with a dry throat. “Hallucinating-…” How can I explain what I’m seeing? “-really complex hallucinations. If anything, I must be getting worse.”

“Oh… Oh my!” Mayuri lift up a hand- hoof- forehoof-? -to her mouth in a way I’m pretty sure is impossible for non-hallucinated equines. “How worrying! Uhm… but Derpy is curious: What are you hallucinating? Is… that why you’re calling Derpy ‘Mayuri’?”

Am I actually calling her “Derpy” when it sounds like “Mayuri” to me? -and vice versa? “Yes, I’m… hallucinating that you’re calling yourself by a different name, but, more importantly, I’m seeing you as some kind of… mutant pony-like creature with weirdly crossed eyes.” Much to my confusion, this causes Mayuri—or my hallucination of her?—to begin tearing up, giant eyes holding an impossible amount of crying-fuel.

With my sickness-induced super-hearing, I catch her murmuring. “’mutant’?… ‘weirdly’?…” Then, all of a sudden, she burst out in a wail that’s like an explosion to my ears; I jump, sending the tray tumbling off the edge of the bed. At Mayuri’s cry, the spoon had been sent flying right into my chest; its tiny but scalding contents sends me into a passionate dance of “get this hot liquid off of me!”, but I remain aware of the sounds of retreating footsteps (not “hoofsteps”; that’s just an hallucination) and bawling. Mayuri crying… and I’m the cause!… Itaru or Kurisu or maybe even Yuugo is most likely going to come in here and chew me up for that… Ugh, just what I need when I’m trying to recover. Wait. Why is she upset, though? She’s not really a not-pony-mutant-thing!… Right?… No! No, of course she’s not. That’s insane… -but the spoon-? No. It didn’t go flying because she was holding it in her mouth before she started crying; she just threw it at me in her anguish. -and I deserved that… even though all of this was unintentional!

Mayuri crying! I have to do something before everyone finds out and collectively decides to kill me!

Easier thought than done: Just trying to lift myself up on my elbows sends the room spinning for too long before I finally blink everything back to stillness. Then, the scent of smoke reaches me.

Fire! I shuffle to the edge of the bed as fast as I can, but sigh in relief upon seeing the soup’s death had extinguished the candle’s life along with it. That means the only crisis I have to deal with right now is Mayuri. Perhaps I should call her “Derpy” for now, since apparently my hallucinations are switching the names around. Right. My hallucinations; I suppose that also qualifies as a crisis, since in all likelihood it means something is wrong with my brain… “-just what a mad scientist needs!” I grumble.

I reach out with intent to grip the edge of the bed in order to pull myself out, but my arm doesn’t go that far before I stop, staring at… my foreleg!? With a hoof! Just like-! No. Stay calm. It’s just part of the hallucination. A very constant, surprisingly consistent hallucination that appears to almost have its own internal logic about it… How intriguing. If only I was a neurologist, capable of actually analyzing the situation scientifically instead of being capable of nothing more than simple ponderings on the wonders of my own addled mind… Oh well. All I can hope for now is that I’m also “hallucinating” having the ability to walk on four hooves.

Now pulling self to hang partway off the bed, I let my forehooves—Hmm, “forehooves” and “four hooves”… I have the feeling that’s going to get annoying quickly, which is all the more reason to get this taken care of!—drop to the wood floor, which is surprisingly slick when combined with spilt soup and hooves. Except the hooves are hallucinations, of course, so… it’s hallucinated slipperiness. -just like I thought: internal logic!… So, I’m guessing if I slip and fall on my face in the hallucination, I slip and fall on my real face.

I don’t get that far, however, for the sound of rapid hoofsteps—galloping—I wiggle myself back to laying completely on the bed just before a different mutant-not-pony with decidedly unusual pink fur, a light purple-ish mane, and similarly colored eyes—currently narrowed in anger, it deserves to be mentioned—stomps in with a now-silently weeping “Derpy” slumping in after. “Time, what did you do?!” She cries in a voice that all the same is very masculine. -almost… like Itaru? Why would I be perceiving him as a mare?!… Wait—something else: Are they really calling me “Timer” and “Time”? –or I’m hallucinating those names, too? Hey, Subconscious, or wherever this hallucination is originating! I’m not that egotistical! Ugh, I’ll deal with you—myself—later.

“I’m sorry!” I cry out, irritating my throat to coughing, which of course only makes the pain worse. “You know me, Itaru! I would never do such a thing in my right mind! It’s-”

“Since when have you ever been in your right mind?” The Itaru-mare growls.

I just give him-her a good long, narrow glare before continuing. “As I was about to explain, it’s the fever, or perhaps something worse that’s messing with my mind. I’m having the most elaborate hallucination where everyone appears to be some kind of ‘equine’ from an alien planet.”

There, that should do it, judging by how he-she loses all traces of anger… for a moment; it returns but is quickly covered up by him-her smacking himself-herself on the forehead with a forehoof. “Ungh… You’ve really lost it this time, haven’t you, Time?” I nod rapidly, encouraging, but when he-she looks back up at me, he-she explodes. “What are you trying to pull! We’re ponies! Hello! We’re all ponies here, and we always have been! Unless you’re saying you’ve forgotten what you were born as,-”—Nope, he-she definitely doesn’t believe me… What if my hallucinating is not only altering Mayuri’s name, but my story, too! Which means… I need to say the opposite of what I’m referring to: “Human” means “equine”- or “pony”, apparently, and “pony” means “human”—“-try pulling my tail again!”

“What I mean is that… uhm, I see us all as… human? -and, of course, I know that we’re really… ponies, but-… Drat.” Even before then, I know it’s a lost cause; even if I hadn’t messed up my story before (completely not my fault—thank you, hallucination, for messing with my very perception of the meaning of words…), my hesitation now levels the wreckage that once was my credibility. Mare-Itaru begins stomping towards me again, but he-she hadn’t noticed the spilt soup, and a splash is all the warning he-she gets before one of her forehooves slips from under her by the force of her stomping, launching her into the bedframe muzzle-first. Mayuri and I cringe at the crack of teeth against wood. “Itaru!” I pull myself back towards the edge of the bed. “Are you all right?!”

At first all that comes is groaning, but, to my relief, words soon form from the incoherency. “Honghshssguuzg… Ooo… g’eat, I zhust hast t’at toos ’eg’own rast meek… Minty V’esh is gon’na kir me…” Stumbling, eyes spinning from dizziness, Itaru manages a wavy stance only by spreading out his-her hooves. Only for a few seconds, though, for then his-her eyes lock on to me with renewed fury. “not fefore I kir you, t’ough!” He-she leaps for me again, and soup-soaked fur gets me wet as Itaru wrestles with me; sick, I’m hardly capable of preventing him-her from soon enough holding me down with a choking forehoof on my throat, the other pulled back for a punch aimed at my face.

“St-Stop!” Mayuri finally finds her voice, coming to my rescue. “Please, don’t fight. Derpy doesn’t like fighting… She just wanted Bear to talk to Timer for her… He was just calling Derpy mean names, not fighting…” All at once, the rage rushes out of “Bear” (how strangely appropriate a name) so swiftly that I practically feel it in the long sigh he-she lets out that brushes through my fur. Really, Brain, you’re outdoing yourself with the detail in this hallucination!

“So’vy, Ditzy… and Time… I zhust got ang’vy at meing fulled away f’on my wo’k and t’en rosing my toost, not you.” He-she lowers his-her raised hoof next to my head, gently pulls back the choking hoof, then hops off the bed; the way her—definitely her—tail flips when she jumps leaves nothing to my now-blushing imagination. Why must I also be seeing them as naked! Granted, “ponies” don’t wear clothing, but they don’t talk, either! As a distraction, I turn to Derpy/Ditzy, who now could hardly look happier with her carefree smile from before that squints her eyes.

“Uh, apology accepted…” I was mistaken: she can look happier! “-and… Derpy, I’m sorry. I really, honestly didn’t know what I was saying.” Truly, in the most complete way, given that what words I’m speaking are being distorted in my mind to fit the hallucination!

“Apology accepted!” She returns, nodding with a bounce.

“Hmph, why couldn’ you acce’t my afology ’vike t’at?” Bear complains without real steam behind the words; she’s actually smiling behind the blood dribbling from between her lips.

“Ha!” I shake my head. “Zero-Zero-Three, I’m neither as cheerful as Derpy, nor, at the moment, do I have the energy to even try to act as if I am.” I have to turn serious though, staring straight at Bear. “Honestly, though, I need to be taken to the hospital. I am hallucinating; it’s just… hard to describe.”

Bear straightens her smile and nods. “Ar’ight. I sufose emen a c’azy colt would ’vecognize if t’ey veh getting mo’e c’azy.”

I blink a couple times. “Uh, Derpy, can you handle that? I think everyone would have an easier time understanding you, if you don’t mind.”

Straightening her posture and saluting, Derpy even loses her smile to her seriousness. “Don’t worry, Captain Time Turner! Derpy will return with a doctor quicker than-!… uhm… -quicker than… -than… quicksand!” She releases the salute and an instant later has zoomed out of the room; in the next instant, Bear and I release our chuckles.

“Oh… Mayuri…”

Bear stops laughing. “What’s… ‘Mayuri’?” She says the name as if it’s from a foreign language she’s just started studying.

“Oh, that’s part of the hallucination… I think. I hope.” Bear raises a brow. “I know: weird. ‘Derpy’ becomes ‘Mayuri’, ‘Mayuri’ becomes ‘Derpy’… I’m not even going to attempt to explain; it’s just one of the many, many ways my brain is messing up right now.”

“Woah. Se’fiousry?” I nod. “Emen I nemer meen zhunk enough do conpuse somefony’s name ’vike t’at!” Okay… I think I’m starting to get a hang of understanding her “broken-tooth dialect”… She dabs at the little stream of blood, then wipes it on her foreleg; inexplicably, I find my eyes drawn to the movement, and see the unusual detail in how the blood mingles with the soup in Bear’s drenched fur. Wait… That doesn’t make any sense: Itaru’s never been much of a drinker… or has any lab member or, really, anyone I know. That, and Itaru has never lost a tooth before… On that note, what does she- or rather my hallucinating mind mean by “regrown tooth”?! Strange… but even more strange: Was that suppose to be “somepony” she said just now? Creative, Brain, very creative. That was sarcasm, by the way.

“Timer! Timer!” Derpy calls before reappearing in the doorway.

“De’py!” Bear cries in alarm for me—good thing: I’m starting to feel my sickness catching up to me. “You were sufosed do get a docta’!” Ha! -and Itaru always complains about me calling him a “hacka” instead of hacker!

“Oh, Derpy will do that, but she just remembered something Timer told Derpy to do if he ever insulted her, even accidentally! So-! Uhm, just wait a minute for Derpy to get it.” With that, she zooms away again. What could she be referring to? I never gave her such an order…

“Ditzy Doo! We don’t have time for-!” Bear runs for the doorway, looking down the hall in the direction Derpy had gone, then looking up, at the ceiling. “What in the attic could be so important?!” Attic? We don’t have an attic… well, technically, yes, but Mr. Braun doesn’t let us use any of the space up there—stingy CRT store owner!

All the same, A sound of scraping as something is moved, inched along across what can only be the attic above me, comes, and soon enough Bear, entering the hall properly, lets out a cry of alarm just before a great bang of something heavy falling into the hallway sends my vision spinning for a moment from the pain. “What d’a buck is t’is?! Why does Time need it?!”

“Derpy doesn’t-HNG-know. All-HNG-she knows is that-HNG-Timer said he would know what-HNG-it means!” Derpy’s grunts of effort accompany more sounds of scraping in the hall now growing closer. As she nears, Bear steps back into the room to presumably get out of Derpy’s and the whatever-thing’s way. Slowly she pulls into my view, appearing to be dragging the thing by her teeth and- flapping wings!? How did I miss those?… Doesn’t matter… Ever so slowly, she pulls the thing within view through the doorway, wisely opting to not try to pull the very heavy whatever-it-is into the room itself. A… giant… hourglass? I find myself asking myself when about a third of the object is in view. No… That’s not all: something is on top of it, but at a bad angle…

“There!” Derpy cheers “Oh, oopsie, wait!” She flies up and turns the thing on top of the hourglass so I can see it properly.

I freeze. I can’t even breathe.

The Divergence Meter: Self-inventing time travel assisting device that only occurs in World Lines where time travel has been invented. Which means… sometime in the future, I’ll invent a time machine and visit Derpy in her past. That’s when I’ll give her this Divergence Meter along with the instructions she thinks I already gave her, but in reality happen in my future…

Now for the real question: WHY will I invent time travel?! The only frames of reference I have are two Attractor Fields: one of World War Three and the other of a future dystopia controlled by SERN using time machines… One in which Mayuri dies, and the other… Mayuri lives, but Kurisu dies.

Please… Please don’t tell me this is the same thing all over again!

“Derpy, Bear, forget the doctor; get the other lab members. We’re having an emergency lab meeting.” I say without moving my eyes off the Divergence Meter, even though I know the number can’t change without being affected by some kind of time travel. Of course. Reading Steiner! That’s why I’m sick in the first place, after all! That number: 94! A far cry from the “0” and “1” Attractor Fields I’ve been in… Something unimaginably wrong with a time machine experiment must have happened in order to so drastically move the Divergence Number… and a drastic move in the Divergence Number must mean an equally drastic change in the world, which means…

“-Time?! Time Tu’ner?!” Bear, PKA Itaru (also previously known as a male, not a mare!… -or perhaps the “good old pervert” was MTF all along?!… Ha! I don’t think so.) is yelling, looking quite alarmed, presumably at my unresponsiveness; Derpy has also joined me at my bed side… wet, assumedly from slipping into the soup in turn. “You’re hallucinating! You-!”

“No! No, I’m not! I’m- I’m actually-… I really am a pony!” Also, I guess that’s my name now: Time Tuner- Turner. Time Turner. How could I have made the same mistake all over again?! I witnessed a pager message sent to the past, before Ruka was born, change him from male to female! Considering that, changing the species of, presumably, everyone on the planet isn’t actually that much a stretch!… “Before Ruka was born”, Hm? Well, that pretty much cements that this was caused by something terrible happening with some ignorant fool’s time machine…

“What? Oh, no!” Bear smacks a forehoof to her forehead. “You are not getting out ov d’is t’at easy! What you need is the emergency room, not an emergency lab meeting.” Interesting. So even in this Attractor Field where I’m a horse, I still have—or had—Future Gadget Laboratories. Good to know, definitely. Some part of me even wants to see what sort of deranged creatures the others have become! Given Itaru being a mare (apparently with a drinking problem), and Mayuri being a cross-eyed winged equine, anything could happen!

“That? Ha!” I wish to envelop myself in a hearty evil laugh, but just that one “ha” assures me that my throat isn’t up to the task. “I’m over that already! It must have been my fever—yes!—the very same which just caused me to think Derpy was a stranger! However, you can now see I’m over that. My sickness leaves me as nothing more than a completely sane mad scientist!”

“Well, that’s too bad.” At least Itaru still has his wit! I would have honestly missed that. -and she seems to be readjusting to her lost tooth, now. “Huh, ac’shually… now that you say that, that reminds me: For shome reason, Ditzy was certain that you would ‘change’ in some way after you recovered from this sickness…” Bear tilts her head for a moment, then rights it with a shrug.

“Oooh! Yes, Derpy remembers now what Bear’s talking about! That was the other thing you told me, Timer! You said, ‘Something will change so that I won’t remember me telling you this’!” As if there was any doubt left! I should probably remember this so that I can relay the same two pieces of information so that in the future I’ll be able to tell Derpy this and not accidentally reset to a new World Line!

“Hmm…” I narrow my eyes at the surprised Bear. Is she starting to be convinced now?

“Oh, I think I understand, now.” She puts up a forehoof to her face, exasperated. “This is another part of that ‘game’ you two play, isn’t it? Oh, fine. I suppose if you’re well enough to have remembered the ‘rules’ you set who-knows-how-long-ago, you’re not really hallucinating. That was all just part of the-. Whatever!” Bear rears up and throws her hooves in exasperation before turning away to the door. “I’m going to take a shower… and, Derpy?” Bear looks back at us. “You should join me, unless you want to smell like soup all day…”

“No, thank you!” Derpy answers in a way too cheerful tone. “Derpy will be right behind-. Wa-aaait! What about Timer’s Emergency Lab Meeting! A shower can wait! We have to gather everypony up!”

Bear shakes her head and looks about ready to dispute my right as Lab Member Zero-Zero-One to call emergency meetings—I cut over him. “-and while you’re out could you pick up a Dk. Pepper* for me?”

“You want… Doctor… who?” Derpy rubs the side of her muzzle, confused.

“You just got through arguing that you didn’t want to see a doctor, and now-?… GAH!” Bear rears up before slamming her forehooves down in a rather intimidating display—not that Itaru had never needed such; any treat of getting trapped under his weight would’ve been fear-inducing enough!

“WAIT! You misunderstand! I’m-…” it slowly begins to dawn on me. “…-asking for a soda. A drink.” I implore, hoping against all evidence.

“A… ‘soh duh’?” Bear says the word in that same slow, unfamiliar way as she had said “Mayuri”. Don’t tell me… “I’ve never heard of any kind of d’rink called a ‘soda’ or ‘doctor pepper’…”

Can’t be… “NNNOOOOO!!-hak! Gah! Ow.” I scream to the heavens before being reduced to coughing. What kind of EVIL World Line is this!?

Author's Notes:

*“Dk. Pepper” is the Don’t Wan’na Get Sued version (used in the Anime) of the best soda in the world.

Meeting Darkness

After my minor meltdown, I send both Derpy and Bear away to perform their duty to the Lab, and I use my time alone to satisfy my thirst with… one of the million apple juice boxes in the fridge, to study the clock in my room, and to find a calendar that, luckily enough, has the dates already passed crossed off. I wonder if Bear got into that habit on account of her apparent alcoholism, which might cause her to forget the date? Thankfully it appears that this Equine-dominated… Attractor Field-? Somehow that term doesn’t seem appropriate to this phenomenon: An Attractor Field pulls major events towards certain inevitable conclusions represented on the Divergence Meter by the number before the decimal, but this-?… This alteration is… a Deviation Field? Nah. A Variation Tree? Hmm, getting closer… Variation Sphere? -Web? -Net? No. I rather avoid any (accidental) Internet parallelism…

“Variation Branch” it is, then. I think it’s already starting to grow on me!

Thankfully, it appears that the Equine Variation Branch uses exactly the same time-keeping methods as the Human Variation Branch: 24-hour day divided into two 12-hour sections, each hour being 60 minutes, and a 365-day year with 7-day weeks all divided into the same 12 months with the same number of days in each month. Good. Very good, given that I’m going to need to be able to keep reference points intact while I hop about the World Lines…

… -to what end? For what purpose do I invent time travel (again), given what happened on the 0 and 1 Attractor Fields? Wait. I may be assuming too much here. Given what just “moved” me to this Variation Branch (it’s really the only explanation), what’s saying I’m the one that invents time travel?… However, if I’m not the one that invents it, then how did/will the Divergence Meter come into my possession?

… More to the immediate point: why did Derpy heave this giant hourglass down here? -and why do we even have it?! The thing is seriously impractical… although it does, at least, seem large enough to be able to calculate an actual hour. Language has already been seriously handicapped in talking about time and time travel; there’s no need to be going about misnomer-ing things! As I walk around the hourglass, studying it, I grumble silently to myself about the uselessness of language, blaming it for restricting me from being able to effectively communicate my brilliance. It’s only then I notice a slip of paper that had been kept from flapping away by being tucked so safely under the Divergence Meter that I think I wouldn’t have been able to see that corner of paper if Derpy hadn’t turned it around to face the bed on which I had laying…

Hououin Kyouma,

I’m sure you have a lot of questions about the Variation Branch (I’m certain you will have already come up with the term by the time you read this) you’ve found yourself thrust into by some random mad scientist wannabe idiot back in the Human Variation Branch, but don’t worry. You’ll learn in time, especially after you find yourself with the most powerful and understanding ally there is next week. In the meantime, have fun and get to know the ponies (Yes, ponies, not “equines” as I’m certain you’ve been think of them as) around you in this place called Ponyville. Yes, Ponyville. Don’t think too hard about it. Just remember you’ll need them, and you’ll all have more important things to worry about soon enough.

Anyway, I'm also certain you’re curious about the device you find before you—Yes, “device”! It only looks like a simple hourglass. This is what I call the Time Tuner, and as you might suspect, it works slightly differently from both the Phone Microwave and the Time Leap Machine. Anything, including living things, placed on top of the hourglass when it is spun will be sent back in time without any worry about gellification. Obviously, sending pure information, such as D-Mails, using this method is impossible.

The only exception is the Divergence Meter: Using the Divergence Meter with the Time Tuner will send everything back in time (not exactly, but. Well, you’ll understand soon enough), similar to the Time Leap Machine, except without the memories-being-sent-back-in-time “thing”, but you obviously don’t need to worry about such issues with Reading Steiner! Why does the Divergence Meter work this way? Magic, most likely. First thing to know about this Variation Branch: Get used to that answer; you’ll be hearing a lot about “magic”, and it IS real.

Trust Your Eyes,
Time Turner

P.S. — One half-turn of the hourglass is equal to one day.

Another message from my future self… At least this time I’m actually able to read it immediately instead of going through a bunch of World Lines, crossing and recrossing the Divergence Barrier between two Attractor Fields in order to give myself the drive needed to develop the technology needed to send a video message back fifteen years! Why the discrepancy, though? Could it merely be the fundamental difference between sending a D-Mail versus using the Time Tuner? The Time Tuner is incapable of sending information… but that would not exclude the method of sending a message in a physical form, such as a letter. Fundamentally, a letter would operate like a D-Mail, with an “immediate effect” in shifting World Lines from my perspective in “the present”… but a letter presents obvious difficulties that a D-Mail wouldn’t encounter, most of which, at the moment, are wide variables that I can’t depend on acting a certain way when I need them to, but it looks like I’m going to need to use the Time Tuner in some way soon anyway!

I put a forehoof to my forehead as I sigh, and almost immediately I can’t help but pull it away and stare at the… “sole” (I’m pretty sure they’re not called soles on equi- ponies, but whatever) of the hoof. Part of me still doesn’t want to believe that that is part of my body: my hoof. It doesn’t want to accept this pony form…

“I need fresh air.” I can’t help but notice the slightest waver of my voice. Fatigue. Heat. Stuffy Apartment Air. I pull together these excuses in my mind as I begin to descend the enclosed stairway down from the Labs—all explanations except… that I’m actually-… that I might not be accepting-… adapting to-… recognizing-… admitting that-… “THIS IS MY NEW REALITY!” I cry out to the now-revealed sky when my first forehoof—shivering tense—touches dirt.

“‘New reality’?” Comes an annoyed and rough, but feminine voice. “Well, at least you’re looking better, so you should be able to get back to work and back to paying your rent, right?” I know that voice, even though it’s changed… So, Mr. Braun is now Ms. Braun? Bringing my head back down, I see rows and rows of little tufts of what looks like grass in a plot of land that is undeniably farm soil; this makes me raise a brow. A television store becomes a farm? Why?… Finally, I turn to where the voice had come from, and see (surprise) another pony, this one of yellow-orange fur with an orange mane.

I should probably say something. “Greetings, uh… landlord! -Ms. Braun!” I add without much thought, but it’s not difficult to see the intended affectionate nickname is well-received… moreso than usual, anyway.

“What was that?! ‘Braun’!?” Her steam easily cools, though, with naught but a sigh. “Never mind. I’ll just take that as another sign your well, since you never call me by my name, Golden Harvest, anyway, but ‘Ms. Braun’ is new…” She turns away, apparently intent on not pursuing an answer to “Why that name?” It is nice to know my idiosyncrasies are more-or-less identical, so-

“What is that?!” I can’t help but call out upon seeing Ms. Harvest’s (naked) behind being presented to me. I rush up to shamelessly examine the blemish. “Is that some kind of tattoo? How does one get the tattoo to grow into the fur? More to the point-…” Here I look away from the hindquarters and up to meet the annoyed face of Golden. “-why would one get a tattoo of a carrot? -and on one’s behind, of all places?”

“That is not a tattoo—that is my Cutie Mark,” she huffs, “and it is a carrot because growing carrots is my special talent! Honestly! You’re acting as if you haven’t seen it a million times before as you pass me by, laughing like a loon more than half of time, to go up to your apartment!” Once again, she turns away and begins tending to the tufts of grass, leaving me to ponder the implications of what she had just said—“what she had just said” being a lot more than the words she had uttered.

“Cutie Mark”? “Special talent”? I crane my neck around to see on my own buttocks a tattoo of-… a Cutie Mark in the shape of an hourglass. Something relating to time as my “special talent” is no surprise… but I wonder how I could have missed such tattoo-like markings on Derpy and Bear? Also, pony-tattoos apparently are a thing, somehow.

Wait. Carrot Cutie Mark. Growing carrots.

“Frurah-hahahaha!” Carrots! A CRT store became a CaRroT farm! Golden Harvest looks up at my laughter, but quickly enough gets back to work with a shake of her head. Boring. That’s what comes of too much mad scientist laughter, I suppose. Resisting a shrug, I turn around to go backup to-

I screech to a halt. Scratch that…

A tiny…—well, the only word for it- her is “unicorn”—unicorn is standing in my way. So we’ve got ponies, ponies with wings, and now ponies with horns. What’s next? Ponies with wings AND horns? Ponies hybridized with fish or bugs or something like that? Ponies made out of diamonds or something equally ridiculous? The… finly (Is that the right word?) before me has a washed-out purple coat—poor thing—blond hair, and shimmering golden eyes—at least she has those eyes to make up for that coat! Looking at her for only a moment, I make a quick assumption. “Nae! Good afternoon!” I greet cheerfully. Children: Hououin Kyouma’s only weakness! I can’t help but act more normal than usual towards them, and it seems this extends to… fools? No… Foals! That sounds right.

“‘Nae?’” She tilts her head slowly to the side; I can practically see her trying to figure me out. Ha! Impossible, foal! Give it up! “What’s that mean?”

I chuckle good-naturedly, leaning back in a faux-ominous way. “Why, it means-sss…” I jolt forward and point with a forehoof. “-you! What else would it mean?” Now that I think about it, with no fingers, it kind of feels like I’m “pointing” with all four hooves all the time, now… Oh! That feels weird! Stopthinkingaboutit. Stopthinkingaboutit. Stopthinkingaboutit!… Gaaaaaaah!

“‘Nae’ means… ‘me’?” She cutely tilts her head the other way, then straightens up only to look down as if she might find answers in the dust as she scratches at the top of her head. After a moment of this—No interruptions from Ms. Braun? I like this version of him already!—she looks back up at me. “-but ‘Nae’ doesn’t sound anything like ‘Little Carrot’. At least ‘Dinky’ makes sense as a nickname!”

“Dinky”, huh? I’m going to go ahead and hazard a guess that’s Derpy’s usual nicknaming at work! I lean forward to whisper in relative privacy, which Dinky leans back away from slightly, but she doesn’t truly retreat. “Yes, it doesn’t make sense, which is why it makes such a perfect secret codename. A codename is different from a nickname, and one particular difference is that this codename is for you and me only; you are not to tell anyone else this name, or even tell them you have a codename at all, okay?” Pulling back again, I widen my eyes significantly.

Dinky breaks into a grin and nods enthusiastically, then suddenly turns serious and leans forward; I, obedient, lower my head until my ear is at her muzzle. “What’s your codename gon’na be, though?”

I let out a good few chuckles before answering in a return whisper. “How about… something like Okabe?”

She giggles as we pull back again, hoof raised to her muzzle as if to keep them in. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

I grin wider, almost a smirk. “Which is why-…” I prompt.

“-it’s perfect!” She throws her forehooves up as if in cheer.

I nod, then immediately a crick in my neck prompts me to stretch, and in doing so I see six ponies, four in addition to Derpy and Bear, of all kinds approaching from a path that leads into what seems to be some kind of suburb. Oh, right… I was so distracted I didn’t even notice that it seems I not only don’t live in a city, but nowhere near a city… What am I going to do?! I’m a scientist; I don’t know anything about farm life! “Well, Dinky, I have things to talk about with the Lab members, so until next time!” Smiling goofily, I run off back up to the apartment before she can respond.

- - - -

Minutes later, the seven of us are seated in a circle, cramped into the living/dining/kitchen room. In addition to Derpy and Bear, there’s a regular pony with a cream-ish coat, curly hair in pink and dark blue stripes, cyan eyes and a Cutie Mark of what seem to be wrapped candies or perhaps lozenges; a light blue unicorn with darker (but not “dark”) blue eyes, hair striped white and dark blue in a way that makes me think of oral health products, and her Cutie Mark is identical to mine (I have a feeling who she might be…); then there’s a winged pony with golden-yellow fur, hair and eyes that are the exact same light blue, and a trio of raindrops for a Cutie Mark; and finally another unicorn, this one of a pink coat, purple hair with highlights, lighter, but not by much, purple eyes, and a Cutie Mark of a three gems. Every single one of them are female, leaving me to wonder which one could possibly be Ruka, and whether in this universe she wishes to be a man- a male pony, that is—that would be “stallion”, I believe—or a female that wishes to be male.

In silence, with all six staring at me, I contemplate wondering how I could possibly figure out their names and who is who from the Human Variation Branch. Looking at each pony in turn, from left to right, there’s Bear, gold winged pony, pink unicorn, probably-Christina unicorn, cream regular pony, and Derpy to my right. Bear/Daru to my right, with Derpy/Mayushii to my left…

Probably-Christina opens her mouth, but I point at her hold up a hoof to cut her off. “Hold it!” I wave a hoof about the circle to indicate the disorganization. “We can’t have a Lab meeting like this! We need to sit according to our Lab numbers: zero-zero-two to my left, zero-zero-three to her left, and so on until zero-zero-seven is on my right!” I order, pointing at each position as I designate them; Probably-Christina huffs, but they all know that I’m not to be argued with and begin rearranging themselves.

In the end, I have Derpy to my left, then Bear, then no-longer-probably Christina, then the pink unicorn as Moeka, then the golden winged pony as Ruka, then finally the cream regular pony as Faris. Jeez! At least with Daru and Ruka we had at least some semblance of diversity! Although like this, not counting myself, we have two of each kind of pony… -each kind that I know of so far, anyway. On to objective two: Get names. Shouldn’t be too hard; I got Nae to tell me her name pretty easily!

At the thought, I let out a few good low chuckles to prime them; sure enough I hear a few intakes of breath and tiny scrapings of hooves against wood as they listen to the sound that never spells anything good happening. “Christina!” I suddenly call out, now actually pointing at her, the blue unicorn. “Please go over the minutes of the last Lab meeting and give me a briefing on anything happening or plan to happen soon that has caught your attention.”

“‘Minutes’? We don’t keep minutes, or do you not recall when you forbade their recording incase any of our houses or the Lab itself was burglarized and the minutes stolen?” The way she pulls he chin up and closes her eyes so condescendingly is so Christina that I have to catch a sigh of admiration at the sight. Blast! Of course I would’ve done such a thing! “As for ‘interesting’,” she says to the ceiling, “Ponyville is as Ponyville has always been, except for the upcoming preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration next week, which the Apple Family is holding a reunion on the same day, I’ve heard.” Apple Family? Who are they? I want your name, Christina!

“Oo! That reminds Derpy of something!” She cries, launching a hoof into the air as she flaps her wings from enthusiasm. Wings. Yes. Being a winged pony certain suits Mayushii.

“Go on.” I permit with a nod.

“Everyday when I go to Sugar Cube Corner, Pinkie asks me about you and if you’re getting well because she want to throw you a ‘Congratulations on getting better!’ party!” She cheers, jumping into the air and hovering just under the low ceiling, but soon drops down with a look of sheepish apology. “Oh! -when you feel good enough for a party, of course.” Pinkie? Why do I get the feeling I’m going to learn the name of everyone in Ponyville before figuring out who these ponies are!… I suppose it is my own fault for have the eccentricity of never using anyone’s real name anyway, along with the fact everyone here thinks I know their names.

“M-hm…” I rub the bottom of muzzle (Is that spot still called a “chin”?) as I contemplate this. “Well, I do believe I am quite well enough to attend such a party.” Derpy cheers at this. “That can be handled after this meeting; I’m curious about this ‘Summer Sun Celebration’. What does it actually entail?”

For a moment, all six stare as if I had asked them to explain why some ponies have wings or horns—which, as far as I can tell, is considered perfectly normal. “Uh…” Bear begins. “It’s… a festival celebrating the Summer Solstice.” I already guessed that… “Every year a different city is chosen for Princess Celestia to visit, and this year she’s going to be in Ponyville to raise the Sun!” The implication that this is supposedly some great honor isn’t lost on me, but it is ignored.

“WHAT?!” I can’t help it; I can’t just let go of such a ridiculous statement, one which I won’t even grace with the title: unscientific. “You-… you think Princess Celestia-”—Whoever that is—“-raises the Sun?! H- H-” I can’t get the question out; it’s beyond all reasoning!—There can be no “how”! “Magic” is one thing, Future-Okabe, but a physical Sun-God?! I think I’d mention something like that to my past self!

“Are you sure you’re alright?” For my immediate right, pony-Faris’s eyes scrunch up with concern as she raises a hoof to my forehead, at which I cross my eyes to look at and huff with impatience. She soon enough pulls her hoof back, satisfied I’m suffering from no fever-madness, but now only adding confusion to her concern for that fact. “-or were you never taught that it’s Princess Celestia that raises the Sun and Moon every day and night?”

No one’s contracting her, and they all seem confused as to why I would so suddenly say this… Unfortunately, this leaves me with only one option: Retreat! “Ha! Yes! Of course! Heh hehr… My mistake, Faris.” No one even blinks at the name. “Something must have got knocked loose in there.” I say, tapping the side of my head.

Predictably, Christina doesn’t let the opportunity for a jab at me to pass her by. “That’s not surprising, considering nothing was bolted down securely in the first place.” She smirks, helping dissipate the atmosphere of concern. “Please don’t tell me this all you called this ‘emergency’ meeting for? -to ask about nonexistent minutes and upcoming events?”

At this, without even waiting for an answer, Moeka rises and heads for the door with her very identifying gliding stride. “I… have work to get back to…” She mutters.

“Moeka, what I’m looking for are clues.” I answer, suddenly serious, getting Moeka to stop. “I received a message from my future self telling me of an impending event which I will need to use the Time Tuner for.” I explain, waving a hoof towards the hall down which the hourglass remains; my assertion garners no skepticism—yet visible, anyway—from the Lab members.

“You talking about that ridiculously sized hourglass Derpy brought out?” Bear asks, his serious face matching mine.

“Exactly!” I declare, standing. Everything is so much easier when they believe me! “I never gave Derpy those instructions- I mean, I haven’t yet. I will, when I travel back in time from some yet-to-be-known point in the future and give her those instructions, but that’s… in the future.” At this I can already see the confusion start to grow again in Derpy’s and Ruka’s faces. “That hourglass-which-is-no-mere-hourglass will be critical in the saving of… the world!” -or so I’m guessing.

Everyone looks between themselves, then, unbelievably, back to me with… various expressions of humor, except Moeka, but that doesn’t mean much of anything given she almost always has that flat expression. No! They don’t believe me after all! I assume that, if anything happened like what I experienced back in the Human Variation Branch also happened here, then I never adequately explained all the time travel I did to rescue Mayushii and Christina… Damn me!

“At least it was nice to see you’re well…” winged-pony-Ruka amputates the silence with her shy whispering, and her statement is met with nods and murmurings of agreement and happiness. Fine. I am well, so for now I’ll be doing my own research around town. Part of that research includes listening very closely to everyone’s goodbyes, and I at least learn that Ruka is Raindrops and Faris is, at least according to Derpy, Bon Bon. Walking down with them to wave goodbye, Bon Bon informs that she’ll be telling Pinkie Pie I’m well enough for a party, and Moeka, stepping under the doorframe of the farm’s front door, stares for a couple of seconds. Perhaps I won’t be all on my own in this research. I give her a small normal-ish smile that she returns just before stepping out of sight.

Nothing interesting happens for the rest of the day, for given my inexplicably swift recovery, Derpy insists I stay home for the rest of the day just in case, and I oblige her. That night, as I slip into bed, I glance out the window and notice the rising moon in this Variation Branch has an image of a pony—a unicorn, it seems—on it. I close my eyes, chuckling at what Bon Bon had said about the supposedly physical god Princess Celestia and my own idle thoughts about how the shift into this Variation Branch might have somehow caused a different pattern of asteroid impacts on the moon.

Reversing Darkness

The next morning, Derpy had happily announced I am, indeed, ready to return to work, as Ms. Braun had hoped—thankfully, Derpy had directly called my work “librarian work”, and even offered to trot into town with me. I, of course, had taken her up on her offer (which I would have even if I somehow already had known the location of “my” library because she still had a glint of worry in her eye that only I could see).

Which brings me to now: trying to get my bearings, having never bothered with any kind of library “science” (I imagine some coalition of librarians deciding to call it science because of their glass-like egos). Not only is every single book sorted by title instead of topic—Why?! Who is responsible?!—but the shelves themselves are not exactly regular-pony friendly, though this may because it’s only me that really doesn’t like the idea of climbing a ladder with hooves.

Which brings me to unicorns: lucky bastards. That’s all that needs to be said. Damn winners of the genetic lottery, they are! “Magic…” I grumble as I study a children’s book on the different kinds of ponies, glaring at a “happy” illustration of a unicorn using levitation magic to retrieve something out of reach. -and pegasi (the proper name for “winged ponies”)! Not only can they fly, but they can hover in place, so I learned when one winged customer retrieved a book she wanted when I was having trouble grabbing it from the ladder in my mouth because the Universe saw fit to equip me with the least number of parts for this body (well, not the least-least, thankfully… unlike Itaru/Bear).

During those times I’m alone in the library—which are both often and long—I do my best to research potential upcoming catastrophes, but the only thing I find remotely relevant is about the Summer Sun Celebration. The holiday had started after the defeat of a “Mare of Darkness” that had attempted to bring about eternal night, but this had happened some one thousand-ish years ago (supposedly; even after witnessing magic firsthand—firsthoof?—the idea of ponies controlling the Sun is still a little much!), but I’m looking for potential futures, not distant pasts.

Sighing, I slip a book of political histories covering everything up to the present (“present” being three years ago, and in which nothing of significant interest to my research had happened for more than fifty years, prompting me to ask, How can such peace possibly be?) back onto the shelf after noticing the Sun beginning to set… or beginning to be set, as the case may be, however unlikely. Pulling out the letter from my future self once more, I reread the part about a powerful ally which I will gain next week to reassure myself; it is not definite, but the point about next week, on which the Summer Solstice falls, strikes me as significant. I still have time, and if I don’t, I can always make more! It’s not impossible—if anything, it’s inevitable!

Bolstered by the thought, along with recalling my experiences with the Phone Microwave, Time Leap Machine, and various Time Machines, by which I had managed to manipulate a set of circumstances so that I would eventually succeed, even if it took hundreds of tries (though from “my” perspective, it had only taken one), I step up to the front door, ready to close up shop and get home for dinner.

Then the world explodes into pain and blackness, and I become restricted, as if I had been stuffed into some kind of container fitted to my specific shape. “Time, Derpy is here to-! Time? Where are you?” Comes Ditzy’s voice, muffled. “Ti-iiiime!” she calls as the darkness surrounding me is suddenly filled with light again—in exactly the same moment, one half of me becomes unrestrained, and I fall to that side. “Oh! There you were!”

As two fuzzy Ditzys spin around as if caught in a drain, slowly coalescing into one clearly-defined, innocently smiling Derpy, I realize I must have been caught on the door and slammed literally inside the wall—a glance to the side confirms this with the gapping, pony-shaped hole, mane and tail included, oddly enough. So, that makes physics and/or biology different as well… “Yes… there I was…” I sigh as I pull myself back to all four hooves. “Is there a book you needed, Derpy?”

“Nope! Derpy came here to tell you plans for dinner had changed; we’re going to Sugar Cube Corner instead!” Her eyes seem to almost literally shimmer with excitement at this prospect, to which I merely shrug in silent agreement. I didn’t know we even had a plan before. Although “Sugar Cube Corner” doesn’t exactly sound like the place one would go for dinner, “Time Turner” doesn’t exactly sound like a name for someone, either!

Locking the library and striking out into the sunset-dimmed town of elongated shadows strikes me as strangely ominous, and it only takes half a block worth of trotting alongside a flying Derpy for me to figure out why: The streets are entirely empty, contrasting sharply with the full streets I met on my early morning commute. Pausing to look around to confirm this, I scratch the dome of my head (surprisingly effective, given I no longer have fingernails) as I reason to myself that everyone must be eating dinner (At the same time? Why not…), but this does not get the still-chilling feeling of being in a ghost town to leave me. We meet absolutely no one, and upon our arrival, find Sugar Cube Corner (so I suspect, as there’s no sign declaring the name of any establishment in this strange pony-town) dark. “Oh, I guess we’re out of luck, Derpy. It looks like they’ve already closed.” Of course Derpy would forget such a thing. I sigh good naturedly as I turn around. It does seem odd for such an establishment to close at this time of day… or at least it would have seemed so back in the Human Variation Branch, anyway.

“Uhm, wait! Look!” Derpy calls as I begin to lead the way home, but it’s the click of a latch and that difficult to describe displacement of air caused by the opening of a door (too soft to be a “whoosh”, but there nonetheless) that makes me look back. The door is open, revealing an interior dark enough for me to describe as “cave-like”. Glancing back and forth, I cast for a open/closed sign or any list of time open per day, but find none—not too surprising, given the size of Ponyville; everyone is likely to have every place’s operating hours memorized. This has officially gone from “peculiar” to “eerie”…

Stepping forward, crouched with uneasiness, I slink past Derpy—who doesn’t look at all perturbed—into the restaurant. Peering into the shadows for some way to get light into the place, a sudden illumination accompanied a burst of sound startles me to the point of spinning around and attempting to rush out. However, I am stopped by Derpy, who had stepped into the doorway, resulting in me running into her. Only after she cries, “Surprise!” belatedly do I realize the room is packed with ponies and just why they had been gathered there in the dark.

Before I can begin a good chuckle (all mad scientists must keep their diaphragm well-exercised) at the silliness of both my actions and the situation at large, my face is grabbed by someone’s forehooves and I’m spun around to face a pink mare with… pink-er hair and—strangely disappointing—light blue eyes. I’m guessing this is the “Pinkie” Derpy told me about… “Were ya surprised? Huh? Huh? Were ya? Were ya? Were ya?” the mare asks, tilting her head to one side, then the other—alternating with each repetition of her question, and all the while pressing her nose more and more firmly against my own.

Lifting up a hoof, I attempt to dislodge her, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall, literally: With a few presses, I find that her flesh feels normal until I push against it, at which point it seems to transform into concrete under the all the pink. Throughout this, she doesn’t even move to blink or (as far as I can tell, and I think I’m close enough to tell) breathe, at least until I answer. “Yes. Surprise birthday parties are one thing, but a surprise ‘congratulations on getting better’ party? Never would have suspected such a thing!” I finally releasing the chuckle of which I had a previous urge as Pinkie releases me and steps back.

I stop soon, however, when I hear no response, not even a return of laughter. Glancing up with a brow raised in curiosity, I find Pinkie staring at me intently, eyes narrowed as if trying to read tiny letters printed on the bridge of my nose (which is to say, that space between my eyes, whatever it may be called now). Her noticing me noticing her staring at me like this only gets her to intensify, slowly leaning closer and closer until our muzzles touch again, at which point the spell is broken.

At the possible-to-mistake-as-intimate touch—or at least what I, from a human perspective, would interpret as such—I blush, then quickly jerk back and to the side, allowing Pinkie to fall. I open my mouth to apologize, but she springs back up as quickly as one of those blow-up punching toys, smiling a smile that I might have mistaken for one of Derpy’s if it wasn’t for the rest of her face; just like that, she changes the subject. “Hey, Timey, did I ever introduce you to my two bestest best-best friends?”

Has she introduced “me” to whomever these two are before “I” was moved here from the Human Variation Branch? I suppose if she’s asking, it doesn’t matter… unless she’s working for whatever the Pony Variation Branch of SERN is and she already suspects me! After all my previous practice in dealing with SERN, I quickly decide on a course of action: smoothly avoiding the question. “‘bestest best-best friends’? I think I might have, but I didn’t know that’s what you call them, whoever they may be.” I punctuate with an unconcerned shrug. Probably getting a little too paranoid!… As long as I don’t go too far out of my way to avoid simple questions, there shouldn’t be any harm.

Whipping herself beside me and slinging a foreleg around my neck faster than I can see, Pinkie begins dragging me through the crowd. “That’s okay! Let me introduce you! -or reintroduce you!” Effortlessly, Pinkie weaves through the crowd. “I dun’no if Fluttershy’s here, but if she is, she’ll definitely be with Rarity.”

Struggling all the while, I finally twist myself free at the cost of pinching a muscle in the right side of my neck. Rubbing it, I ask, “-and how do you even know where Rarity is in all of this?” I gesture around that the crowd I suspect is somehow composed of the entire town (minus, possibly, this Fluttershy). Magic, remember! Magic…

At this, Pinkie tilts her head in most ridiculously over-emphasized confusion. Somehow, I get the feeling “over-emphasis” is this pony’s M.O. … “Huh? of course I don’t know!” she cheers.

My neck gives a little spasm. “So, you’re saying you were just dragging me around randomly while looking for them?” Her nod sends another fresh wave of pain through the pinched muscle, but I brush it off with a sigh and remind to myself that this is supposed to be a party; silliness and craziness are things to be expected. “Lead on, then, noble Pinkie.” A glance back tells me that we had managed to lose Derpy somewhere, or maybe she hadn’t bothered trying to follow us at all.

Pinkie giggles as she turns around. “I’m not-! Oh!” she interrupts herself. “Heya, Fluttershy!” she calls out, waving. “I knew if you were here you’d be hiding out in one of the corners with Rarity!” Her louder-than-her-already-loud-voice greeting attracts a moderate amount of attention, which at least helps in clearing a path as the ponies see Pinkie bounding in their general direction and hastily step out of the way—how Pinkie had managed to spot Fluttershy through the throng is beyond me.

Approaching the duo of a yellow and pink pegasus and a white and purple unicorn, I get the feeling Fluttershy isn’t just a name, given how she crouches, looking like she wishes for nothing more than to fade into invisibility. Then again, it seems like “Time Turner” and “Pinkie Pie” are more than just names as well… how names work here is something I’ll have to look into… after I save the world again.

As the two of us step up to them, I realize what this means. Wait. These ponies don’t know me? Why would Pinkie invite ponies that I don’t know to my own party?! Technically, “I” don’t know anyone here, but from Pinkie’s perspective… It would look silly to question right now. “Greetings, future minions! Your future master is pleased with your presence at this celebration of his victory over those microbes that so foolishly invaded his body!” I boom, waving a foreleg theatrically, attracting confusion and laughter from the ponies nearest us.

Fluttershy (rather, who I suspect is Fluttershy) lowers herself into an even tighter fearful crouch while Rarity joins those tilting their heads in confusion and Pinkie, the mare I’m liking more by the second, allies with the other team, giggling harder. I turn to inquire why she would introduce me to these particular ponies, but suddenly find her gone from my side without a sound! I twirl around in a way I’m sure could be described as “cute”, but find, most mysteriously, not a hint of pink in the crowd despite my earlier impressions that this Variation Branch seems to think it could never get enough of the color.

Falling into the pace of my own mind to ponder this, I’m only brought out again—with no answer to show for my trouble—by Rarity. “Well… Yes. It is nice to see you up again, and so quickly, too! The library certainly wasn’t the same without you!” Immediately I see she has an excellent skill at ignoring awkwardness such as my presence might produce. Pinkie does know how to pick a “bestest best-best friend”; I’m already liking this unicorn, too! Now Fluttershy, though… that fearful crouching will not do!

“Heh heh hehm, I can tell! Whoever took over for me obviously didn’t have the slightest idea about organization! -but I don’t-” My segue into trying to pull Fluttershy out of her flutterhyness is interrupted by Rarity coughing into her hoof and a blush beginning to show under her fur. “Oh no! Don’t tell me that those microscopic raiders intend to make you their next victim now!” I step forward with intent to feel her forehead, but Fluttershy suddenly springs to action, getting there ahead of me, and doing more: forcing her mouth open to look into her throat, putting her ear to her chest to listen to her heart, and digging her hooves into her neck to feel her lymph.

I imagine the impromptu clinic session would have gone on if Rarity hadn’t stuck out a firm hoof to shove Fluttershy away. “I’m fine.” Fluttershy opens her mouth to insist, but Rarity continues cutting her off. “Please, Fluttershy, thank you, but I am not sick, truly.” In turn, I’m about to inquire what the cough and blushing had been about when she gets ahead of me as well. “It is… only that, in hindsight, I realize I obviously wasn’t qualified; I shouldn’t have volunteered.”

It takes me a second to figure out what she’s talking about, and the realization makes me flinch, actually stepping back. “Oh! Rarity! I’m sor-”

“No.” She holds up a hoof and turns her head aside. “I’m the one who should be sorry for making such a mess of things. I already knew I wasn’t the most organized of ponies, so I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sure anypony else would have been better, even Rainbow Dash.” She chuckles sadly and shakes her head at herself.

“Rainbow Dash”? Don’t know who that is, but that doesn’t matter! “That’s not true,” I dismiss with a more humored chuckle. “Even though the books were in the wrong places, I could still see that there was… organization! -even if it wasn’t correct.” Things certainly aren’t go as planned, but Rarity smiles still, and beside her Fluttershy is not only no longer slowly collapsing in on herself, but giving me a smile, too, even if it is smaller than her unicorn friend’s.

“Well!” I announce, “Thank you for this momentary distraction, but I must find a refreshments table, for my work has left me quite desiccated.” -and still with no Dk. Pepper, I add to myself. “So I take my leave!” Twirling finitely around on the tips of my hooves, Rarity calls a good bye after me and, though it’s so quiet I almost think I’m imagining it, Fluttershy adds her own farewell.

Though most of the crowd seems to ignore me, cementing the question of, “What are all these ponies ‘Time Turner’ doesn’t know doing here?” I do receive a few greetings that sound as if I should be familiar with those giving them; I shrug them off quickly with the same line I’d used to leave Rarity’s and Fluttershy’s company. Eventually finding and sidling alongside a bowl of punch (a woefully inadequate substitute for the true drink of mad scientists), I linger, occasionally nodding and exchanging a few pleasantries with my parched pony partners—thankfully, none of them bring up any thing beyond day-to-day banter and don’t refer to any specific past event “I” wouldn’t remember. I’m going to have to fix that, but can I learn about my own past without getting too specific and/or direct, thus arousing suspicion?…

My musings are brought to an end by a soft tap upon my crown. “Hey, Time!” Oh, joy of joys: another chance for me to get exposed as some kind of imposter… Damn it, Hououin, this is a party! Now is definitely not the time to descend into such thoughts! Looking up at a hovering pegasus grinning down at me, I barely manage to suppress a cry and jump of shock: These “ponies” may be colorful, but this one takes the cake! Her coat is a rather average sky blue, but her hair! Her hair! It’s literally all colors of the rainbow! Thankfully, a sudden realization helps me out. I’m guessing this is the “Rainbow Dash” Rarity mentioned… and she seems to be familiar with me.

“What’re you doin’ over here all by yourself, huh?” She asks as she nabs a cup for herself; she doesn’t give me time to compose an answer, as she only takes the quickest of sips before going on. “Le’me guess: You pushed yourself out of bed before you were ready, didn’t you?” She rolls her eyes, but smiles wider. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, ya know?” She teases me with a soft kick to my shoulder as she continues to hover above me.

I make a quick judgment: “Of course, Rainbow. How could I forget with you telling me so all the time?” Bullseye; that response makes her chuckle—it seems I do know “myself” well enough. “However, if I did, why are you here? Wouldn’t you be afraid of me getting everyone sick, including you?”

“Ha!” Rainbow Dash crows, “As if! Even if I could get sick, I wouldn’t care. Being assigned cloud duty for the Summer Sun Celebration is so lame.” Her words say one thing, but the slight increase in tempo to her wing beats and glint in her eye, even as she rolls them again, seem to be trying to tell me something else. Also, “cloud duty”? Don’t tell me these technologically backwards “magic” ponies have mastered control of the weather…

“M-hm, ‘cloud duty’… but it’s the Summer Sun Celebration. -for Princess Celestia.” Maybe that’ll get her to say something about the supposed-god-like figure… “It sounds like an honor to me.”

“Heh, you would think that, Time.” She hovers down just enough to pat the top of my head in a playful-condescending manner. “You would think that only because you’ve never had to move a cloud from the Everfree Forest in your life.” Her tone and grin seem to be hiding her true meaning once again. Though what would make a cloud from this Everfree Forest different? It’s not like I have any other leads, and her words imply something about this forest is strange…

From somewhere in the crowd comes a call in a distinctly out-of-place southern accent. “Rainbow Dash?!”

“Oh!” Rainbow drops herself to the ground. “Uh, got’ta go,” she excuses herself in a suddenly soft tone, then zips away. She reappears half a second later. “You got my back, right?” I nod, tilting my head uncertainly and questioningly, but she gives no answer. “Remind me I owe ya!” With that done, she disappears again.

Only a second or two later, the pony I suspect had called Rainbow’s name appears—I suspect her because of the (once again) distinctly out-of-place feeling I get from her, this time originating from Stetson hat. Who would wear something like that to a party? I can at least halfway understand ponies being nude (now that I’m mostly numb to it), but… that hat! At least the rest of her is a fair kind of “blend into the background” orange fur, straw hair, and green eyes.

Glancing around at everyone loitering about the punchbowl (even though Rainbow Dash would have stuck out like a single gellified banana in an otherwise healthy, yellow bunch), the southern pony stalks up to me with a perturbing darkness in her eyes. Something tells me she knows I’m buddies with Rainbow! “Did’jya see where Rainbow Dash went off to?”

After giving my choices a quick once over, I tilt my head up as I hum in what can easily be misinterpreted as a being in a thoughtful manner, but I allow a tiny hint of a smirk through. “Hmm? Did I see where she went? Not precisely, no. As soon as she left my field of view, I lost track of her, since I didn’t have the mind to pursue.”

The only response this obvious taunting elicits is a slight narrowing of her eyes—not even her tone changes when she rephrases her question. “Don’t’chya at least know which direction she went?”

Though I try to resist, something about her rock-like insistence makes me shiver internally. “… Yes,” I eventually answer simply, smirk drooping.

Unsteadying me further, she allows her eyes to relax. “Do ya even know what she did this time?” She doesn’t wait for an answer—even a simple shake of the head—before continuing, “My farm was suppose ta get rain this mornin’, but nopony saw a drop, or even a cloud!” She lifts a hoof and scrapes it against the floor like a bull getting ready to charge (Really? That’s a thing ponies do?). “This is just one time too many for that good-for-nothin’ lazy pegasus, you know what I mean, Sugarcube?”

“Sugarcube”? If my ears are not failing me, that sounds like a term of endearment… With a sigh, I nod silently and wave a forehoof in the general direction of Rainbow’s retreat. Still, that pretty much confirms the whole idea of weather control around here, which, of course, only makes the question about the weather of the Everfree Forest more interesting! -and, if I’m remembering correctly, one of the Lab Members had a Cutie Mark that looked like it had to do with rain!