Cole McGrath awoke in a decidedly different place than the one he had last been. He was lying on his back in the middle of an impressive crater. The crater was several metres wide and deep enough that he couldn’t make out anything past its blackened slopes. Cole’s limbs felt as though they were made of lead, and his head was throbbing in protest at being forced to process information. He held up his arm to block out the sun, realizing that his skin was covered with soot and ash, presumably from whatever blast had deposited him where he currently was. As he kenned onto this fact, Cole dimly realized that he could feel the grime and dirt covering all of his exposed skin. Cole groaned, then forced himself to sit up.
Another glorious day in the life of Cole McGrath.
Cole was wearing his usual clothing, a yellow T-shirt with dark sleeves and black jeans with the white part of the Union Jack running up and down one leg. His backpack was still attached to him, though it felt noticeably lighter. Absentmindedly, he reached over his shoulder to check if the two-pronged melee weapon he called the Amp was still there. It was not. Cole sighed, then noticed his surroundings.

He sat in the middle of a vast field of green grass, wind-blown ripples moving across it. It was knee deep, clearly deprived of the touch of a mower. A copse of trees stood off to one side, branches swaying lightly in the wind. Behind him, Cole saw a hill, topped by a dirt road. There was not a building in sight, and the cloudless sky was a vibrant blue.
. . . What the actual shit? I was fighting the Beast, activated the Ray Field Inhibitor . . . then what?
Cole found he couldn’t remember what had happened next. It was all just a blur of pain, electrical energy, and adrenaline. There was a nagging thought that accompanied this, but Cole couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He rubbed his forehead tiredly, silently wishing the pain would stop. Cole then stood up, trying to make sense of what had happened.
I . . . what? I was in New Marais last thing I remember. How the hell’d I get here? And where is here?
Suddenly, Cole remembered what the nagging thought had been about.

He should be dead.

The RFI shut down the energy of people with powers like him – permanently. Every single conduit on the planet should be dead or dying. Cole had been at the epicentre of the effect. If it hadn’t affected him, how could it have affected the Beast?

“Dammit, no!” Cole growled, beginning to pace back and forth in anger. “This . . . gah, it was supposed to work!”

Before Cole could start cursing, a movement caught his eye. Something blue was making its way over the grass towards Cole, but he couldn’t see what it was. It was very fast, certainly, and didn’t seem to be touching the ground. The figure halted abruptly about three metres from Cole, allowing him to see it in full.

Cole had seen a great deal of odd things, from trash-manipulating psychics to giant insectoid mole monsters to ice-covered towers guarded by South African security contractors. He’d battled giant swamp monsters, to rednecks with Gatling guns, to shady governmental organizations headed by super villains.

This was new.

The figure was quadrupedal, and had wine-red eyes to contrast its blue coat. Its tail and hair (mane?) were multicoloured, somehow managing to be the colours of the rainbow in proper order. It lacked the angles and points that indicated a predilection for violence, instead having rounded edges, and a body more athletic than brutish. The thing’s colours – though pronounced – were complementary, and more bright than aggressive. Its face was snouted, but surprisingly human in its features and composition.

Cole stared, dumbfounded. This thing resembled a horse, but it was small, reaching Cole’s waist at the shoulder. Its eyes gave the impression of intelligence, and it regarded Cole with just as much stark disbelief as he did it.

The two stood there for several minutes, each one moving little, waiting for the other to act first. Cole spoke first.

“Uh, hello?” said Cole. The creature drew back its head a bit, startled.

“Hello?” it responded. Cole was equally surprised.

“You can speak English?”

“You can speak Equestrian?”

“What’s Equestrian?”

“What’s English?”

Another few moments passed in silence. Cole shook his head and focused himself.
Get out of here. Get back to New Marais. Stop the Beast.
Thus determined, he spoke to the creature again.

“My name’s Cole. Not to be rude, but what are you? And where am I?”

“My name’s Rainbow Dash,” the creature responded at length. Cole now felt that this Rainbow Dash could be called female, based on its voice. “I’m a pegasus pony, and you’re just outside of Ponyville. What are you?”
Oh, what a loaded question.
“. . . I’m a human,” Cole replied after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m from Empire City – you know where that is?”

The creature shook its head.

“New Marais?”

Another head shake. A horrible thought occurred to Cole.

“. . . Earth?”

Yet another head shake. Cole’s world started making significantly less sense than it normally did. He told himself to calm down – losing his head wouldn’t help matters, and the important thing was to get back to New Marais.

“Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here. Is there anyone I could talk to who might know more about getting me back to where I came from?”

Rainbow Dash regarded the thing in front of her with suspicion. She didn’t trust this Cole person, but she didn’t want to have him around, either. And if she did nothing, then what? Leave him to his own devices out here in the woods? He’d just wander into Ponyville anyway – better to at least be able to keep tabs on him.

“. . . There’s a unicorn in Ponyville who’s really good with magic. She might be able to help you. I could take you to her.”
Unicorn magic. Obviously.
“Sure. Let’s go.”

The two of them walked up to the dirt road and along it, with Rainbow Dash keeping a fair distance from Cole the entire way. Cole was used to the feeling by now – he took some small comfort in the fact he hadn’t yet been attacked or shot at. Cole explained to the pegasus that he had been trying to stop a big destructive force called the Beast from destroying the world. Cole had been prepared to deal the final blow, but he had somehow awoken where the Rainbow Dash had found him. Rainbow Dash seemed skeptical of Cole’s explanation, but said nothing to that effect. She instead explained that there had been a great lightning bolt striking down, and she had gone to see what it was.

Cole had his fair share of questions about ponies, and Rainbow Dash did her best to answer them. Yes, she could really fly with her wings. Yes, her colouration was fairly normal for a pony to have. Yes, they all had symbols on their flanks – they were called cutie marks.

They arrived at Ponyville proper. Cole couldn’t help but think that something about the town was just slightly off. The trees didn’t look quite like trees – too green and brown, instead of the knotted and weathered bark a tree should have. The buildings seemed like they’d be better off in a pseudo-medieval township than inhabited and used. The roofs were thatched or wooden and the buildings themselves were cobblestone reinforced with wood beams. The streets were cobblestone, and there was not a car in sight.

As Cole took in the township around him, he glanced at one of the few open windows. There was a gasp from inside, and the shutters were slammed shut by a pair of bright green hooves.
Yep. That’s the feeling I know and love.
The town square was empty, except for one pony. Her coat was bright pink, her mane and tail darker in colour in addition to being fluffy. Her cutie mark, as Dash had called it, was of three party balloons. There was an ornamental fountain in the middle of the square, and the pony was pacing back and forth in front of it, a great burden clear on her mind. As Cole and Dash drew near, she raised her head and started hopping excitedly.

“Dash! You’re back! Oh I was starting to get worried because it had been a while since we saw that big lightning-thingy and you went out to see what it was and I thought it might have been something dangerous so I got to thinking about what could have happened to you and-”

“Pinkie Pie,” said Dash.

“-then I got to wondering who I should tell if something had happened to you so I started thinking of who I could tell about the big lightning-thingy-”

“Pinkie Pie.”

“-but then I decided that maybe I should go look for you myself because you might have been hurt but then I thought that if you were hurt then maybe I could have gotten hurt-”

“Pinkie Pie!” Dash yelled, interrupting the pink pony’s stream of words. Cole simply stood there, startled that anything could talk for so long without need to breathe.

“. . . Yes, Dash?” Pinkie Pie asked innocently. She stopped hopping.

“This is Cole. He’s the big lightning-thingy we saw,” said Dash flatly, gesturing to Cole with a hoof.

“Hi.”

Pinkie’s reaction was immediate. She gasped loudly and went wide-eyed, lifting herself up into the air for a good three or four seconds. Had Cole’s appreciation for the laws of physics not been jaded by the fact that they were violated by him and thousands of others like him on a near-constant basis, he would have found the feat impressive.

“You’re new here!”

“No, really?” Cole asked sarcastically. He sighed, frustrated at being bogged down in conversation.

“Yes, really! And you know what that means?” Pinkie asked excitedly, leaning forward with a huge grin. Dash interrupted, putting a hoof to her forehead and sighing.

“Pinkie Pie, don’t-”

“A party!” Pinkie exclaimed, hopping into the air once more, barely able to contain her joy.

“Um, Pinkie,” said Cole. “I don’t really have time for-”

“Oh, it’ll be such a big, wonderful, superriffically fantabulous party! I’ll invite everypony, and you’ll make lots and lots of new friends!”

Somewhere, something in Cole snapped. His face contorted with anger.

“No!” he yelled, garnering startled looks from both ponies. “I . . . no! I don’t have time for any of this! I need to get back to New Marais and stop the Beast from destroying the world, and I’ve wasted enough time here already!” Pinkie fell back on her haunches, her mouth open in shock. “Do you understand that? If I don’t get back in time, people are going to die!”

There was a second of silence. Then, Dash spoke.

“I’ll go get Twilight. She’s the unicorn I told you about.” With that, she launched into the air and darted away.

Cole and Pinkie remained where they were for a moment. Cole, anger spent, sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of the fountain. He rested his head in his hands and became unpleasantly aware of how tired he felt. After a second, Cole heard a soft sniffling coming from his left. He glanced up, and saw Pinkie Pie sitting on the fountain rim beside him, trying to blink back tears. As he watched, a single drop fell from her eye to the ground and spattered on the cobblestone.
Way to be a hero, jackass.
“I’m sorry,” said Cole, reaching towards Pinkie’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean t-”

Pinkie shirked away from his touch, turning away from him and sniffling again. Cole inwardly cursed himself. His powers could control the weather, knit broken bones, injure hundreds – but they couldn’t make people like him. He tried again, his tone softer.

“Uh, Pinkie Pie?” The words felt strange on his lips, but Cole forced himself to treat them with the same dignity he treated Trish’s name. Pinkie turned towards him, looking at him with one of her large, blue eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you – that was wrong of me. It’s just . . .” Cole’s voice trailed off as he searched for the right words. “I have a lot of people depending on me, and I can’t let them down, and this whole affair hasn’t really been a great thing for my sanity, or my confidence,” he finished, looking up apologetically at the pony next to him. After a moment, Pinkie responded, now looking at him with both eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?”
Sure, Mrs Pinkie Pie the Pony, I’ll gladly let you play shrink to my problems. Hell, it’s even odds I’m locked up in a padded room anyway, what’s the worst that could happen?
“. . . Sure.”

Pinkie looked at Cole evenly, her eyes offering nothing but friendly sympathy.

“Well, New Marais will be destroyed, for one thing. It’s a city, much larger than Ponyville. Several people I know and care for will be seriously injured, assuming they live through it at all. Then, the continental United States – a country with hundreds of millions living in it – will be devastated, one town at a time. After that, the continents of North and South America will fall.”

Pinkie Pie said nothing, only waited for Cole to continue.

“Then, the Beast will presumably make its way across the sea and start with Asia and Africa. Europe will probably be the last to hold out, assuming they don’t degenerate into riots and looting beforehand. There will be a few survivors, of course. People with powers, like I have.”

“Powers?”

“Flight, telekinesis, super strength, that sort of thing.” Pinkie nodded, thinking back to the comic books she read from time to time.

“Thing is, though, in order for those people to survive? No-one else does. At all.” Cole’s tone took a turn for the ominous. “All the cities, all the culture, the history, the tradition. All that humanity created – gone.”

Pinkie was silent for a moment. Then:

“It’s been a big ol’ Grumpy Gus of a day, huh?”

Cole laughed bitterly, then lowered his gaze to the stones under his feet. He tried to count how many times he’d been shot in the past twenty-four hours, and lost track at 500. He tried to count how many people were trying to kill him, how many he’d killed – again, he lost track.

“You could say that.”

Pinkie shuffled closer and leaned against him. She had stopped crying now, and looked at Cole sympathetically. Somehow, Cole felt legitimately better. His head was clearer, and it was reassuring to know that there was someone, somewhere who didn’t despise him because of what he was. All the people who had supported him had turned against him at some point: Trish had hated him right off the bat, Kuo had become a lunatic when confronted with the prospect of her own demise, and even Zeke’s record was tarnished with greed.

And Nix? Nix was just insane.

“Thanks, Pinkie. It was nice to talk about it,” Cold said, earnest in his words. Pinkie giggled and flicked a foreleg dismissively.

“Aw, I’m sure you’d do the same for me. Besides, that’s not even the best part!”

“Oh, what is?”

“Hugs!” Pinkie cried, throwing her forelegs around Cole and hugging him tightly. Cole was taken aback for a moment, then returned the gesture. They stayed locked together for a moment. Cole tried remember the last time he’d hugged someone, and realized he couldn’t. When Pinkie drew away, her front was covered in soot that had rubbed off from Cole’s clothing. Cole couldn’t restrain a snort of laughter at this, and Pinkie looked at her reflection in the fountain to see what had changed about her appearance.

“Oh, that’s just silly! Now I’m gonna have to wash this off!” Pinkie looked at Cole. “And you are, too! Come on, Cole!”

With that, Pinkie tackled Cole into the water.
Cole and Pinkie fell into the water. Cole tried to cry out a warning, to throw Pinkie away from him, but her forelegs were wrapped around his chest, and he couldn’t adjust his fall. As the two entered the water, electricity arced out from Cole and across the water. Several of the bolts hit Pinkie Pie, and her screams shattered the stillness of the air. The bolts lanced through her small frame, frying nerve endings and causing her muscles to contract. She fell into the electrified water, and her cries would have doubled in intensity, had her head been above water. The smell of burnt flesh reached Cole’s nostrils before he was overtaken by pain and started flailing randomly, desperately trying to get out of the fountain. The electrified water rushed into Pinkie’s throat and down into her lungs, and ran across her eyes, causing them to-
“Cole?”

Cole came back to reality with a start, realizing his position. Cole lay on his back in the fountain, Pinkie Pie resting lightly on top of his chest with her forelegs lengthways across his shoulders. The entirety of Cole’s body from his legs to his torso was submerged, as was his left arm. His head was propped up enough to keep it mostly dry, and his right arm hung over the side of the fountain. Pinkie looked down at him, head cocked questioningly to one side.

“What’s the matter, Cole?”

“I . . . I . . .” Cole stuttered, breathing quickly, having difficulty coming to terms with what had just happened. “Out of the water. Now.”

Pinkie looked at him oddly, but sat back and let Cole seat himself on the edge of the fountain, legs outward. Pinkie waited for him to start talking, but Cole seemed preoccupied with marvelling at how four-fifths of his body was covered in water. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hunt open in awe.

“So what’s the big deal? I mean, fountains aren’t really bathtubs, I know, but I figured that if I just needed to go all brushie-brushie on some sooty-sooty, then-”

“Pinkie, we should both be dead right now.” Cole’s voice was haunted. “Both of us. We should be electrified at the bottom of the fountain.”

Pinkie stopped speaking looked at the fountain’s water where she sat. Aside from a blackish stain where the two had fallen, it was perfectly normal.

“Why would that happen? We seem fine.”

“My powers, they react with water . . .” Cole trailed off as a monstrous thought occurred to him. “No. No, it can’t be . . .”

“Cole? Is everything okie-dokie?” asked Pinkie as she pulled herself out of the fountain and sat on her haunches beside Cole.

“No. No, it’s not.”

Cole turned around, made sure that Pinkie was well clear of the water, and thrust his hand down into it.

Nothing happened.

Cole withdrew his hand and stood up. He stepped back a few paces from the fountain and held out his arm, willing a bolt of electricity to shoot out of it.

Nothing happened.

Breathing a big more raggedly, Cole looked around and saw a neon sign advertising a restaurant. He dashed over to it and held out his arms, trying to have the electricity flow out of the sign and into him.

Nothing happened.

With fury, Cole spun around and threw his arm with enough force to put a major-league baseball pitcher to shame. He tried to channel cold through his body and into his hand, to will the molecules of air to slow down and freeze. An ice grenade, an ice rocket – it didn’t matter.

Nothing happened.

Cole hung his arm to his side, standing crookedly for a moment. Then he turned and trudged back to the fountain, sitting down beside Pinkie. He buried his head in his hands and spoke softly.

“I’m not on a power grid, but I feel fine. I thought I- . . . I thought I was still charged from whatever brought me here, but I was wrong. I feel fine because I don’t . . . I . . . I’m normal again.”

Pinkie had watched Cole’s actions with confusion, but she could see that he was upset even if the reason as to why wasn’t readily apparent. She shuffled closer on the rim and hugged Cole again, confident that the problem could be solved with enough empathy. Cole hugged her back, glad for the warm comfort of her body.

Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash arrived a short time later to see Cole and Pinkie embracing each other on the fountain. They broke off the hug as Twilight and Rainbow Dash drew near, their shadows reaching far in the dying light of a sunset.

“Twilight Sparkle, I presume?” asked Cole bleakly, not bothering to stand.

“Y-yes. I take it you’re Cole McGrath?” Twilight was surprised by Cole’s appearance, as it was completely unlike anything she’d ever seen. The fact that he seemed to speak perfect Equestrian was even more odd.

“I hear you can help me get back to where I came from.”

“Well,” Twilight said, “I’ll certainly try.” Cole nodded, resigned.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t thank her yet,” interrupted Rainbow Dash, earning a glare from Twilight.

“Rainbow Dash!” said the unicorn, annoyed at the interjection.

“What?” Dash asked innocently.

“Sorry, why shouldn’t I thank you yet?” asked Cole. Twilight turned back to him.

“Well,” she began, reaching up to the back of her neck awkwardly with a foreleg. “It’s just that I don’t know where precisely you came from. Certainly it’s this New Marais place, but I don’t know where that is. I’ve never even heard of it, or any of the other places Dash said you mentioned.”
What a goddamned surprise.
“Plus,” Twilight continued, voice tinged with regret, “it’ll probably take me at least a night of research to figure out what kind of teleportation spell would work, if it would work at all.”

Cole sighed.

“That’s still the best chance I have.”

There was silence for a moment, as each party considered the implications of this.

“So what you’re saying is,” Pinkie spoke up, “Cole would need to have at least one sleep in Ponyville before he went home?”

“That looks to be the case, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “Sorry, Cole.” Cole waved his hand, dismissing the unicorn’s words.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” asked Dash.

“He could stay at my place,” offered Pinkie, getting odd looks from the other two ponies. “What? Mr. and Mrs. Cake are out of town at a baker’s convention, and he can’t stay at either of your places.”

“What?!” said Rainbow Dash. “Sure, my place is made of clouds, but why can’t he stay at Twilight’s?”

“It would be better to have the whole library to myself . . .” mused Twilight.

“See?”

Dash was about to object further when Cole spoke.

“Look,” he said, “I can tell you’re worried about Pinkie, but I promise you there’s nothing to worry about. Firstly, I’m not that kind of person. Secondly if something happened to her, what’re the odds you’d help me?”

Dash started to say something several times, but couldn’t refute Cole’s words.

“. . . Fine.”

“Hooray!” cried Pinkie, hopping up and down. “We can still have a party, even if it’s only for two people!”

With that, she hopped off in the direction of her house, Sugarcube Corner. Cole stood, then bid Twilight and Dash good evening and followed Pinkie.

“Thanks for the food and everything, Pinkie.”

Cole now stood in the uppermost floor of Sugarcube Corner. At one end was a large bed with a window in the wall just above it. At the other was a coffee table, which also sat just under a window. The middle of the room was mostly empty except for a few chests of drawers along the walls, a couch, and a large carpet covering most of the floor. Two light fixtures clung to the ceiling far enough apart to light the room, but the only light now came from a lamp beside the bed.

“My pleasure, Cole! I normally just bake lots of cupcakes and cakes and pancakes and muffins and things like that, but I don’t cook vegetables much – well, baking is a form of cooking, but you know what I mean.” Pinkie wore the same cheery grin she had all through dinner as she walked over to the bed. Cole realized it was the only one in the room. He made for the couch, but Pinkie interrupted him.

“Cole, where are you going, you silly filly?”

Cole looked back at Pinkie, somewhat surprised.

“I was going to sleep.”

“On the couch?”

“Well, yeah,” said Cole, scratching an itch on his face. “Where else?”

“Here, of course!” said Pinkie from her position next to the bed. She had grabbed a corner of the covers and pulled them back. The prospect of a warm bed was something that had eluded Cole for a long time, but he didn’t want to impose.

“Where would you sleep?” he asked, subconsciously moving closer to warmth promised by the sheets and comforters. Pinkie did not respond and instead dashed behind Cole and headbutted the backs of his thighs. Taking the cue, he sighed resignedly and slipped into the bed after removing his shoes, socks and backpack. To his surprise, Pinkie climbed in after him.

“Pinkie, what are you doing?”

“Going to sleep, silly,” said Pinkie rolling her eyes. “G’night, Cole.” With that, Pinkie reached to the lamp beside the bed and turned it off. She wiggled closer to him, pushing her back into his side. Cole tried to protest, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he lay back in the bed and looked out the window. The window was open slightly, and a cool summer breeze drifted in through it. The moon was starkly beautiful and the stars were pinpricks of light against the total darkness of the sky.
Nice night tonight. I could put up with this for a bit.
Cole’s communicator flashed to life, the blue screen illuminating the area next to the bed. Cole grabbed it reflexively, and saw that it had a new text message.

Cole. We won. Beast is dead, as are Nix and Kuo. Getting reports of people keeling over in the streets – conduits. Getting more reports of the plague going away, millions of people saved. Don’t know what happened to you, but I figured I’d send this anyway.

-Zeke

Cole read the message over a second time before his communicator let out a small pop and died. Running for more than a month on near-constant hypercharge had done what stray bullets, water damage, grenades, explosives, ice beams and bio-weapon-grade acid had not. Cole rested his head on the pillow and gazed up at the ceiling. He let his mind wander, discarding the communicator over the bedside.

He had won.
The Beast is dead, and most of the world saved. Good, mostly.
He had lived.
Doesn’t really matter why. I have a feeling I won’t ever know. I should get back, help rebuild or keep order.
He had lost his powers.
Rebuild, keep order. How, though? One more worker won’t make a huge difference, and people wouldn’t like to see the saviour of the world lifting bricks. Hell, I might even die from residual RFI fields if I do go back.
Beside him, Pinkie rolled over so that her foreleg rested on Cole’s chest and her head rested on his shoulder. Her coat was coloured a brilliant rose in the moonlight, and she nickered softly, snuggling closer to Cole. Without thinking, he put his arm around to rest comfortably on her side. When was the last time he’d snuggled with anyone? Had he ever?

Cole looked at her contented, sleeping face, then back at the ceiling. He thought of how many people would hate him despite all he’d done, if he did go back. If he could. His thoughts shifted to the ponies he’d encountered today and how trusting and kind they had been, with the exception of the Rainbow Dash. And, to be fair, even she had trusted him to a certain extent.

Cole glanced to his right, out at the nightscape hanging over Ponyville. The blacks and deep blues of the sky seemed almost surreal, as though they had been painted on by a trained artist. The moon and stars were both bright white, but tinged with just a hint of blue from the surrounding sky. As Cole watched, a cloud drifted lazily across the moon, obscuring his view of its just enough to be considered poetic.

A small noise to his left warranted his attention, and Cole shifted to see Pinkie. She inhaled, then snored softly again, chest rising and falling in time with her breath.
Very nice night tonight. I could put up with this for a while.
Cole lay back and slept.

When he awoke the next morning, he was happier than he had been for months.