Blueheart's whole body was shaking. Blood covered everything; the walls, the ceiling, even him. He struggled, but to no avail. The restraints on his hooves were too strong. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, so much that his face felt fuzzy, and hot. It was all happening so quick. He knew he was going to die. No question about it.

"Vandal," he muttered, barely a whisper. "I'm sorry.."

"It's too late," said a dark voice.

A searing pain to his neck.

Then blackness.

Andrew jolted awake as the nightmare reached its climax. Sweat drenched his forehead and chest, and he quickly took in a couple panicked gasps of air. Fresh, rain-scented, real air. It took a while for him to realize that it was just a dream, and he was in his dark apartment; the neon lights outside shining through the lone, damp window on the wall illuminating the room. He sighed, then sat up and cupped his face in his palms.

He lost count of how many nightmares he had a long time ago. They were repetitive, happening every other night or so. Andrew didn't know when they began. So much was unknown about these; they weren't scary in the least bit, but he was always scared to death when he woke. Sure, he occasionally saw some blood, or felt some pain, but that was the scariest they got. Plus he used to deal with those things a lot, back in the Army.

Andrew got up, and realized the crude, glowing red numbers from his alarm clock read midnight. The distant cars honking outside and trains passing by made him sure of that. In New York, it was always busy, even at night, although less so. He liked the sound. It was soothing to him, and made him have a sense of safeness.

He made his way to the bathroom, turned on the lights, and looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess, his jet black hair sticking out in all directions. Sometimes, it sucked having long, thick hair. He turned on the faucet and threw water on his face, waking himself up. He slicked back his hair, then looked back into the mirror, hoping to see an improvement. He could see his cyan eyes twinkling through the black strands, but that was all the improvement he got. His hair and eyes were a strange combination; the darkest hair with the lightest eyes. He thought of it as a gift.

Andrew thought about his most recent nightmare. This one was... different. He felt as if he died, and it made sense. That never happened in the other ones. The other ones were just distant images, along with sounds. None made sense. He recalled back to his most memorable bad dream.

Large, violet eyes, on the verge of crying. They were wild with fear.

Excruciating pain in his stomach. He looked down to see a bullet hole, with dark, red blood squirting out like a miniature drinking fountain with something clogging the faucet. He could hear a distant female voice, calling something, but he couldn't understand what. Then his legs buckled from underneath him, and he fell.

He was closing his eyes, his lips on someone else's. But who's? He's not in a relationship.

This was all normal for a nightmare. Scrambled images that meant nothing. But he could feel emotion in them; strong emotions.

He looked down and scowled. "Confusing" was an understatement. Hopefully he would understand things soon... Andrew then smiled, suddenly remembering vital info about today. He was finally going to see a psychologist about them. Hopefully get rid of them, but most certainly at least understand what they meant. He didn't know anything about these dreams, but he did know one thing: they were more than dreams. And they felt real. Very, very, real.

A train horn in the distance woke him from his mini day-dream. He figured he should go back to sleep; they never occurred twice in one night. Plus, the quicker he went to sleep, the better. Because when he woke up, he could finally take a shower and get rid of that bird nest of a top of a head.

He turned off the lights, crawled into his small bed, and was quickly fast asleep again.

"So, tell me how long you've been having these dreams."

Andrew had been talking about his problem for the last thirty minutes, and this was the first time his psychologist asked him a question.

He looked up at the plain, blue ceiling. He wasn't sure why psychologists always made their patients lie down. Probably some trick. If it was meant to make you focus better, it obviously wasn't working, evident by the big, blinding light shining above him. It kind of reminded him of an interrogation.

"I don't know," Andrew stated bluntly.

He saw his psychologist's (Mr. Brown was his name) brow furrow. That obviously was not the answer he was hoping for. He jotted something down in his note book, then lifted his head up again, facing Andrew. Brown was a stout fellow. Although not the most attractive or strong, he had a very weathered face, and knowledge in his eyes. Andrew wondered what he was before a psychologist. Maybe an adventurer?

"You explained you had.. strong emotions," stated Mr. Brown. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, just... emotions. Kind of like what I"m feeling right now. There's no other way to explain it.."

Mr. Brown adjusted his glasses and a hint of a smile fell upon his face. Probably happy to hear this appointment could be resolved so quickly. "We all feel emotion in dreams, Mr. Davis. I think--"

"Yes, but these emotions are different," interrupted Andrew. He figured he was being rude, but he had heard the same thing over and over again. Emotions in dreams are for everyone. He knows that. But these were different. "They feel... Real. And not like the Dream-Real, like I'm.. actually feeling them. I can't explain it."

Mr. Brown looked hard at Andrew, considering this. He then chuckled light-heartedly. "Well, then I guess you have a very unique future ahead of you, Mr. Davis."

"What do you mean?"

"These aren't dreams, Andrew. These are visions. And I think it's time you take them seriously."

For a good couple seconds, Andrew stood (well, laid) dumbfounded. Yes, they felt real, but they couldn't be.. real. Unless he was going to be killed by his brother as a horse. No, that couldn't be it. Maybe he explained something wrong, that was probably it. He heard that every little detail told to a psychologist needed to be completely true. Otherwise, the result would be wrong. Like a mathematical equation. Or a psychological equation?

"...Can I check those?" Andrew gestured toward Mr. Brown's notebook in his hand. He figured if he was doing his job correctly, he wrote down everything Andrew said. Maybe he could correct himself when he found the error.

Mr. Brown shrugged and handed his work notebook to Andrew. The latter scanned over the crudely-written-on pages. He found no error. Andrew looked up at Mr. Brown, then back down to the notebook. Another check wouldn't hurt.

"I understand it's hard to comprehend, but I'm sure it'll all make sense in due time." Mr. Brown stood up and offered his hand out to Andrew. He figured that meant the appointment was over. The young New Yorker sighed, and shook it, then stood up. "It was good working with you, Mr. Davis. Good luck," Mr. Brown said with a smile.

After Andrew said his thank you's and good bye's, he walked out of the building and into his small blue Mercedes. He sat in the driver seat for a while, deep in thought.

"Well," he thought. "At least I know they're visions, so I didn't blow off fifty dollars for nothing." Andrew took the keys from his jeans pocket and started the car.

He drove away from the large building, although not to his apartment. He was headed somewhere better.

Andrew almost smiled as the FD-200 sniper rifle's recoil bucked his shoulder. He loved that familiar feeling, along with the ear deafening sound only the Chilean, semi-automtic, 7.62 caliber gun could produce. His shoulder and ear were both used to it. The target, a staggering 200 m. away, suffered a huge impact, and before Andrew could tell where he hit it, dust and dirt puffed up around it rapidly. Slowly, the brown gas around it dissipated, revealing a big, messy bullet hole at the center.

The small crowd behind him clapped steadily, some speaking quietly to the ones around them, a handful cheering. Andrew, although not a fan of attention, liked their reaction.

After the semi-worthless appointment to Mr. Brown, he decided to drive down to the shooting range to use his beloved firearm. As a veteran, he had the right to carry his weapon in his car. Plus, shooting cleared his mind. It made him feel at ease. Even though it was the most violent thing someone could legally do in his free time. Ironic.

He was, in a way, famous, at the shooting range, known as one of the best snipers out there. He figured he wasn't one of the best, but he wasn't half bad. Maybe it was just his natural modesty talking.

Also, it reminded him about his time in the Army. Most people would think being in the Army was a bad thing, traumatizing people about the inevitable violence. That was true, it was traumatizing, but it also taught him a lot. He learned there were things out there worth fighting for. Plus there was free food, and he took pride in his hard muscles and high stamina.

Andrew readied himself for another shot.

"You may think this is fake. Just a big, horrific, nightmare. You think you'll wake up in a couple minutes, drenched with sweat. But no. You don't wake up. You were never asleep.. Just like when your parents died. When our parents died. Let me let you sleep.. Forever.. Let me kill you, Andrew."

Three knocks at the door woke Andrew, who was (like always) drenched in sweat. He had another nightmare.. Frustration burned in his chest.

"Twice in a row.. A new record," he muttered out loud. Three more knocks on the door, more urgent this time. The New Yorker stood up and rubbed his forehead. "I'm coming!" He quickly put on a shirt (a dark blue t-shirt), some black jeans, then rushed over to the door. When he opened it, Andrew was greeted by his little brother, Vandal.

Although just an inch below Andrew's height, his sibling was a good three years younger. Their features weren't similar at all; Andrew having long, slicked back, jet black hair and cyan eyes, along with a gentle stubble for a beard. He had a face resembling Bradley Cooper (which he was secretly a fan of, and was very pleased to know he looked a lot like his favorite actor). Vandal, having dark brown hair and matching brown eyes, had a face that isn't recognizable as any celebrity, but was still good looking. They had that "brotherly look," which they couldn't really explain.

Andrew looked down at his little brother, which he discovered had an exhausted and sweaty face, and he was panting.

"Can't-talk-right-now, I'll--explain-on-the-way!" Huffed Vandal, exhaling the words at rapid speeds. "Get-your-shoes-on-and-meet-me-in-the-car! ASAP!" The last word left no room for argument as Vandal bolted off, getting even more winded on the way.

His younger sibling's mood caught Andrew off guard. They haven't seen each other for months, and Vandal didn't even say hi. Or better yet, Why hello there, Andrew! It's been quite some time. I understand you're having a rough time financially, so why don't we talk about it over some Burger King? He sighed, knowing this was not the case. He walked over to put on his shoes, then hoped that whatever this was, it was worth his brother's rude greeting.

After walking out of the apartment building and into Vandal's black SUV, the car ride was silent. Andrew didn't like that; he was hoping for Vandal to at least try to talk to him, but his eyes remained glued onto the dark road ahead. Maybe something was really bothering him.

After about ten minutes of driving, they exited the main road, onto pitch black asphalt, the only light coming from the car's headlights. Another five minutes of driving. Another five minutes of Andrew's brother not speaking to him.

Then, the car stopped abruptly, jolting Andrew forward.

"Gee, Vandal," he gave him a stern look. "Warn me next time."

"Listen, I know I said I was going to explain on the way," Vandal said quietly. Why was he whispering? Maybe about to apologize about his short-notice ride? "But the construction workers are back. Let's be quiet." Maybe not.

Vandal slithered his way out of the car, opening and closing the door as quiet as the night itself. Andrew nonchalantly opened and part-way slammed the door shut, about as quiet as a ten-year old throwing a tantrum. Vandal gave him a glare that said 'You idiot!' but said nothing. Maybe it was childish anger or revenge, Andrew didn't know why he did it himself.

As Vandal led the way, Andrew started to hear loud, mechanical sounds in the distance, along with blinding lights over a hill. Its white glare looked like a Dalmatian's white skin in the pitch black sky.

"Okay," Vandal whispered. "You've got to be quiet, and stay low with me. What we're about to do isn't legal. But it's... so beautiful." The last part added a shine to Vandal's hazel eyes, the kind of which a seventh grader had when he looked at his crush. Andrew followed his brother closer to the blinding light and raging sound, now only a few blocks away.

Somewhere, in a distant galaxy, Princess Celestia paced back and forth in her throne room. The huge, majestic room had an eerie silence to it, and all the furniture had been removed, except the glowing ball on the table in front of the Princess. Her usually well-kept glimmering mane now resembled a bird's nest. Her fur was also unkept, but she barely noticed. She had to find a way to introduce this news to Twilight Sparkle, her apprentice. Most letters to the purple unicorn were light-hearted, an invitation to a party, for example. She thought back to that time when Twilight had to choose between her friends to go with her to the Grand Galloping Galla. She made the right choice, assuring Celestia that she was a true friend.

But this was different. These circumstances were different.. These times were different. Everything was going to change, and Twilight must be the first to know. Well, the second.

Luna watched as her white-coated sister walked back and forth with exasperated eyes. She knew the entire ordeal; every little detail, yet she wasn't acting like this. Celestia was overreacting. She could hear her sister mumbling under her breath; most likely about the situation at hand. Luna occasionally heard the most intelligible words spoken by the disgruntled princess, such as "change," "destiny," and "human." The one that caught her ear, though, was "warrior."

"Tia," Luna tried to get her attention. "You're just overreacting. Another being is coming to Equestria. Big deal. A new species is discovered every other day. The ponies will think of it as just another new discovery."

"He is not an it.," snapped Celestia, these being the first words she said after explaining to Luna the fateful ordeal. The white alicorn was getting grumpier by the day, probably because of loss of sleep. "But this is different. He is different. His species is smart, maybe even smarter than us. They speak our language. They could tell everyone.."

Luna already knew this. "They won't hurt us. They're generally peaceful creatures. We just don't need to provoke them. Besides, we have magic as our defense. You're getting paranoid."

Celestia shot a look at her dark blue sister. "Of course I am paranoid! I have every right to!!" Boomed Celestia. After seeing the alarmed expression on Luna's face, and realizing how loud she yelled, she apologetically lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry. It's just... It's so.. unreal. A human is coming to Equestria."

Luna nodded her head understandably, and kept a gentle, yet stern look on her face. "You'll be okay. You've done this before, centuries ago."

The Princess of the Sun nodded, a little comfort coming from her sister's statement. "I know, I know. But never has a human ever been destined to become a hero."

After a turn of her head, Celestia continued to stare at the crystal ball. She was mentally screaming. The bigger one had gone through so much pain in his lifetime, and he was about to receive not only the most recent traumatization, but the biggest. By far.

"Okay, I think we're out of eye-sight," said Vandal, as he stood up. "Andrew, I want you to know that you are the first human being I have ever told this to. I violated the law, but for a good cause. They're hiding this from us. Well, trying to. Anyways, remember when our dad died?" Andrew nodded melancholily, the memory all too well in his brain. "Well, I used to come here a lot back then. This place comforted me, and.. I just want to ask you something. Remember how you spent a couple years in the Army? I know they make you study law and stuff for that, so I want to know if traveling to different galaxies is illegal? Galaxies with life, I mean."

Andrew rolled his eyes; if Vandal was trying to be funny, he was not succeeding. Everyone knew that it'd be hundreds of years until they invented something even close to traveling to another galaxy within a human's life time. "Look, if you're trying to be funny..."

Vandal didn't talk to interrupt his brother, he just looked at him. His face was dead serious, no comedy in his features. Obviously, Vandal was either right (which is completely crazy), or his claim wasn't the only thing crazy about him.

"I'll show you if you don't believe me," Vandal said with a death stare. "Look to your left."

Andrew applied, and he was shocked to see...

..a...

A...

A rabbit hole. Andrew almost face palmed at the fact that he actually got worked over about this.

Vandal, seeing the expression in his brother's eyes, walked over to the rabbit hole, and pulled back a patch of grass. Andrew quickly discovered it was not a patch of grass, but a tarp, which Vandal placed onto it to cover it up. To cover part of it up.

The hole was enormous, about the size of Andrew himself, who was well over six feet. The tarp could barely even cover more than half of the hole. It was not a rabbit hole. Vandal nonchalantly dropped the tarp and walked in.

After a few seconds of Andrew not moving, Vandal reappeared, grabbed his brother's arm, then walked back inside the gaping, black hole; which Andrew discovered to have a cyan glow to a walls, as if some New York neon-sign was around the corner.

When Andrew rounded the corner, his eyes instantly widened. Vandal smiled.

This was not a neon sign.

Luna was growing concerned for her sister. She was really getting worked up about this. Sure, it was understandable; it was big news, but just not "stay-up-all-night-walking-around-the-room-until-you-meraculously-think-up-of-an-answer" big news. Unfortunately, though, that is exactly what Celestia thought of the ordeal. After their conversation of the human and the glowing ball, Celestia had walked into her quarters, and hasn't come out yet.

Luna's thoughts were abruptly cut off as she heard a thump, coming from her sister's room. Then the sound of something metal hitting the floor.

"Oh, Faust!" She heard from it. Luna almost gasped at her sister's vulgar language. What if Twilight Sparkle were here? She would most certainly not be proud of her mentor.

"Tia," Luna called as she knocked on the white alicorn's door.

"What? Oh! It's you, Luna! Yes, yes, I was just.. uh, doing some more research! On the human ordeal!"

Celestia was many things, but a good liar was certainly not one of them. Luna sighed and, with a quick lighting of her magic, teleported into Tia's room, not even checking if the door was locked.

The Princess of the Sun was lying down, cursing as she rubbed her bruised head. There was a single pole, in her hoof, and nothing else. Luna gave her sister a questioning glare, while Celestia gathered herself and stood up, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Thanks for knocking," the white alicorn said, a little irritated.

Is she trying to make me the bad guy?

"What were you doing with that?" Luna pointed at the metal bar in her sister's hooves.

Celestia almost started to hide the bar behind her, but she realized it was worthless, as her sister already saw it. She sighed. The alicorn decided if she could make her answer quick, her sister wouldn't be angry. "I was trying to do pull-ups."

Instead of anger, confusion took over Luna's facial features.

"It's a method used by humans," Celestia started. Luna instantly went from confused to exasperated. This was the twentieth time she caught her sister doing something human. "But wait! This one is different! It's not the like the hamburgers (which she spent a good two hours in the restroom with her head in the toilet from) or french fries (which she actually liked, but soon discovered it was anything but healthy)! It's very healthy, and builds up muscles! I think I finally found a way to still be in shape without leaving my room!" Celestia made another cheeky grin, followed by a sound that could be identified as a squeaky toy.

Luna facehoofed. Did her sister just squee? This is NOT how a princess should behave. Plus it was completely out of character for Tia. Then again, Celestia was always out of character for the past few days. Without warning, Luna was grabbed around the shoulders, and yanked towards her white sister.

"Here; I can teach you how! I figured out how to do this method when searching through Andrew's memories."

Luna's eye twitched. "Who's Andrew?"

"The human! I forgot to tell you his name. Come on, I'll show you how to do this! It makes your arms feel so fuzzy and hot afterwards."

"Enough!" Luna raised her voice. "You have done nothing but study this individual for the past few days! You must stop this at once. You don't even know him! You don't know his personality--"

"He's a little shy, very intelligent, extremely modest, and overall very nice."

Luna gave Celestia a look. Was she challenging her? The smug grin on her sister's face confirmed that. "You don't know what he looks like in human standards--"

"Very handsome, strong, and quite the mare killer."

"Where he lives!"

"Sleepy Hollow, New York, United States, North America, Earth, in the 8B Wing of the Milky Way Galaxy."

"He could be a carnivore!"

"Omnivore. He does, however, like 'bacon' a lot."

Luna briefly wondered what "bacon" was, but that thought was quickly drowned out by the frustration towards her sister. This was childish! "You don't know where he is right now!"

Celestia's face went blank. Luna smirked, thinking she won, until Celestia tapped her horn then closed her eyes. A moment later, she turned back to Luna with a smile.

"About to come to Equestria, right now."