The Chan-Bots had frozen in place, their gaze all fixating on the Mayor, who looked puzzled by this sudden development. “I-I’m not an impostor!” he yelled. The Chan-Bots all looked back to our brown-striped savior, who pointed back to him.

“He’s lying! He’s been slandering mah good name fer years! Isn’t dat right, Ian Brandon Anderson!”

The Mayor began to stomp his… well, I guess I could call them feet. They served the same purpose. “I NAME IS NOT! IAN! BRANNEN! SOMETHING!!!” The Chan-Bots all backed away from their lord and master as he bellowed in our direction—shouting in his half-intelligible voice about how we should call him by his “REAL NAME” and went into a confusing tirade, going on about how he had gotten his name from someplace, something about a bear…

In the middle of his story, this Other Mayor spoke up. “You are, you are not the Christian Weston Chandler, you are not the real one.”

This flimsy accusation only seemed to agitate him even more. He stomped his feet. He screamed. He kicked over nearby kickable things. “YOU’RE NOT CHRISTIAN WESTON CHANDLER!”

“My name is Christian Weston Chandler, from Charlottesville, Virginia.”

“CHRIS!!! CHANDLER!!!”

“That’s mah name. And yer slandering it with yer dang, dirty mockeries.”

This surreal argument continued for a while. The Doctor and I smiled at how this Other Mayor knew how to get under his skin so easily, simply by wearing a flimsy disguise. I looked to the Chan-Bots to see looks of concern and confusion on their faces. This gave me an idea.

“Oh my goodness, Doctor,” I said as loud as I could. “So many Chriseseseses! How will we know which one is the REAL, and which one is the FAKE?”

The Doctor seemed to think this over. He took a comical amount of time to do so. “HMMMMMMMMMMM. How about a contest?”

The Mayor seemed to like this idea. “Dat’s right, a contest!”

“But what kind of contest?” I asked.

The Doctor grinned. “A SINGING contest!”

The Mayor laughed. “Y’all have sealed yer fates an yer dooms. I have a voice dat’s got a real Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby sound to it.” I stifled a chuckle. This was going to be fun.

“OK, we’ll play a song,” said the Doctor as he produced a music player from his pocket. “Whoever sings it the best, is the REAL Chris.”

“All right, den. I’ll go first!” proclaimed the Mayor as he cleared his throat.

The Doctor pressed play.

I had to fight the urge to dance to the beat. It was a song I’d never heard before, but at the same time, it was so infectious and catchy. I settled for bobbing my head instead.

Before the Mayor could sing the first line, however… one of the Chan-Bots beat him to it.

“We’re no strangers to loooooove,” it warbled.

“Hey!” the Mayor said, trying to interrupt. Suddenly, all the other Chan-Bots began singing along too. The plan had worked: the Chan-Bots became confused when the Other Mayor claimed to be the REAL Mayor, so they all came to the conclusion that neither were the REAL, they were both the FAKE. So from there, the Chan-Bots all came to the conclusion that since neither one was REAL, that they, the FAKEs, were really the REALs.

I think I just gave myself a headache from writing that.

Either way, the room was now flooded with squealy, off-key singing, every voice trying to shout over the others—to the point where the original song had become forgotten amidst the noise. In the middle of this confusion, the Other Mayor led us out of the room and into a hallway.

I nearly laughed. “Um, thank you, Mr…”

He removed his glasses and shirt, putting on a black (and admittedly sharp-looking) hat and a long scarf possessed of many colors. I then noticed he had an hourglass cutie mark. “Please,” he said in a very rich, deep voice awash with the familiar Trottingham accent, “call me Doctor.”

“Alterna-Doctor,” corrected the Doctor.

The Alterna-Doctor chuckled. “Oh, hello, me. How am I doing?”

“I’m doing very well, all things considered. Thank me for asking. Where am I taking us?”

We began to walk further down the hall.

“If I were me, I’d know, wouldn’t I?”

“I suppose so, me. So I take it I’m going down this hall.”

“As am I.”

The Doctor patted my back. “As are we!”

I finally groaned. “Guys!” I shouted. “Stop talking like that! It’s confusing and it’s creepy!”

The Alterna-Doctor rolled his eyes. “Oh, you are no fun at all.” We continued down the hallway as he explained that after shutting down the magic-defense shield, he managed to find what the PVCC had been looking for.

“It’s much worse than it seems,” he said, his jovial tone replaced by a grave one.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

We had gone to the end of the corridor. There was a large metal door, with another keyboard next to it. Apparently, the Alterna-Doctor already knew the code as he punched it in with expedience. “When Spider-Colt took the pictures, he was only looking at the surface of our troubles. The very fate of the space-time continuum is at stake.”

The large door opened with a hiss. We walked inside.

It was like walking into a womb of despair. It was similar to the inside of the TARDIS, in that I wondered how on earth such a place could exist. However, the space-ship feel was far less welcoming in here: it was alien, certainly, but it contained the kind of hostility one feels from entering a forbidden chamber. The moment I stepped in, I felt like there were snakes inside me, all crawling around. The place gave me the creeps.

There were wires, big and thick like tentacles, racing all around the room. In the middle of the ceiling was a large black machine. It looked like a cross between a giant head, a coffin, and a throne; the crevices all emitted a sickening green light that splashed around the room, and it pulsated occasionally as if it were a living thing. The pulses came in heaving shudders, and created a sound that we could feel. And there, connected to this Coffin Head Throne by those tentacle-wires, dangling underneath like a hanged corpse, was Cadance.

She had the appearance of a dead mare: her hair had all but fallen from her head. Several of her teeth were missing. Her eyes had become yellow orbs in deep caves, her pink coat had dulled, and her figure had nearly rotted away completely. It brought me to tears that my old foal-sitter, my sister-in-law, had become reduced to this kind of suffering.

At the same time, I felt like something was trying to leave me. My emotions suddenly became hard to control, and it took all I had to prevent crying uncontrollably.

The Alterna-Doctor removed his hat and placed it over his heart. “Princess,” he said. “I managed to bring them here.”

Her eyes didn’t seem to focus. Cadance struggled to look down to us. When our eyes met, I felt something inside me break. She smiled.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said. Her voice chilled me to the bone: it was the voice of a dying mare.

“Cadance,” I whispered.

And thus she began her story:

“For millennia have I been left here to rot. I had fallen ill to a fatal disease, and my husband, your brother, tried his best to find a cure. When the Mayor promised to find one for me, he instead found this machine, the terrible Diabolus ex-Machina, and used it to control my great power.”

I thought this over. “Your great power? You mean, your Radar Love spell?”

“The very same. He took me back in time to when he first came across the Machina, and gave me to his younger self, giving him directions on what to do. So for the past millennia have I rotted here, in this cage, trapped by the Diabolus ex-Machina to live in a state of eternal death.

“What the Mayor did not anticipate however, is two things. The first is that my Radar Love drains my own thoughts and feelings of love. My love for Shining Armor has been able to feed my Radar Love for a very long time, and once every week, I am forced to cast this spell on all of CWCville…”

My eyes snapped open wider. “You mean, on Christian Love Day?” That explained why I had felt that strange, hypnotized sensation while in attendance of the holiday gathering. This—that he was selfishly using a dying mare’s love for her husband to power a machine that hypnotized his subjects into loving him—was a secret even bigger than his true form.

“Yes. Although I have loved your brother for many generations, I am afraid that so many uses of my Radar Love have caused me to… lose… my feelings for him. And as such, my love-fueled magic will no longer work.”

I covered my mouth, not knowing what to say.

“Listen!” said Cadance, raising a hoof. “For what I have to say next is of vital importance.

“The other thing that the Mayor did not expect is that now that I am cursed into this form, this state of eternal death, I am now able to see all that there ever was, and all that there ever will be. When somepony dies, the universe speaks to them but for a fleeting second. But I am eternally dying, so eternally does the universe converse with me. Because of this, I now understand what is truly going on.

“Many years ago, before time and space were ever born, there was a creature of hideous proportion called the Smooze. When space and time were created and became one, the Smooze became jealous of their combined beauty and created a race of creatures that spread chaos and disharmony across all space and time. These creatures became known as Draconequus.

“Now that pain and hatred existed, the Smooze then created servants that could destroy space and time. Creatures that could destroy all life, devouring them with their wintry mouths. These creatures are known as…”

“…Windigos,” I finished.

“Indeed. But there was one Windigo that the Smooze created, and considered very special. His name is lost to the sands of time, and was crafted in a language that is unpronounceable with our tongues. He was feared by all speaking races that encountered him as Windigus Prime.

“However, upon the first Heart’s-Warming Eve, the Windigus Prime was smote by the love of ponies, and he and his forces were forever cast into the depths of our earth. Until, one day…”

I gasped. “Until,” I began in a stammer, “until one day, the magic in our earth became too weak to hold him!”

“That’s correct. I believe your friend the Doctor has told you of his Blue Magic Pocket theory. This is what happened. The magic built up beneath the earth, and erupted. However, this was not the only thing the Windigus Prime was planning.

“He was half the reason the magic was building up to begin with! He would play with it, toy with it, use it to see into other worlds. In our world, he saw you, in your magnificence and your hubris. In another world, he found a young human named Christian Weston Chandler. When he saw Christian’s selfishness, he concocted his evil plan.

“When it came time for the Blue Magic Pocket to erupt, the Windigus Prime ripped forth and brought with him Christian Weston Chandler, who even now is unaware of he who has brought him here, and led him throughout Equestria's history. As Christian began to cause chaos and hatred within Ponyville, Windigus Prime slowly became stronger and stronger, until, finally…”

I remembered how I tried to kill Chris earlier, before I saw the Windigo. Was that Windigus Prime? “Until finally, he became strong enough to control others?” I asked.

“Until, finally, he came to possess you,” said Cadance. “Surely, you felt your anger growing. All the resentment you felt towards others—towards the Doctor, towards Bon-Bon, towards Christian. It was easy for him to possess you, Twilight Sparkle, for your greatest fault is your haughtiness.”

I huffed.

“In all your wonderful intelligence, you place too much onto your ego. Nearly every action you took before coming here to CWCville was selfish and unmindful of others. You are also a very powerful unicorn, and combined with such a weakness, you became the perfect target for the power-hungry Windigus Prime.”

“Well, then, he’s chosen poorly,” I said, still stinging from Cadance’s assessment of my character. “My magic is currently on the fritz.”

“Windigus Prime took refuge inside you, Twilight. Your anger and selfishness grew and grew until finally, he entered you, possessed you. He feeds off your negative emotions: your anger, self-hatred, fear, loneliness, and sadness. Your use of magic has also fed him, which is why you have slowly begun to lose control of your own powers. You are giving him shape and form, without even realizing it.”

All those times I’d felt cold, I realized, were all at times in which I was emotionally distressed. I rubbed my chin in thought as everything up to now began to come together and make sense.

“If we do not act soon, Windigus Prime will be reborn into this world. And unfortunately, if he succeeds, he will call forth the Smooze.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, “Even ignoring the creepy implication that I’m pregnant with a herald of doom, I thought this Smooze thing existed outside of space and time.”

“Normally, yes. That is where Christian Weston Chandler once again comes in. The Windigus Prime foresaw that the Doctor would become involved in all this, and merely waited for the inevitable to happen. Christian found the TARDIS, and used it to travel through time in order to control our world.

“In doing so, Chris has unwittingly created a world so devoured by hatred and unhappiness that the Smooze could enter it and destroy it. If the Smooze becomes able to walk in our space and time, and breathe our air, and partake in our realm of existence, all is surely lost. The Smooze is a creature of terrible power, and if he becomes flesh as we are, nothing will be able to prevent him from devouring our dimension… and all other dimensions.”

We sat down. This information was more than we were prepared for, but it made sense. We had come this far, too far to back down. Something needed to be done.

“What do we need to do?” I asked.

“First things first, Twilight. We need to destroy the Windigus Prime. After that, go to the Canterlot library. There, you can find a spell that can separate Chris from the TARDIS, and you can use the TARDIS to go back in time and prevent this awful future from ever happening.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Wait,” he said, “If that spell exists, why hasn’t Chris gone and separated himself from the TARDIS?”

Cadance looked as if she were about to chuckle. “Because, he’s Chris,” she said.

“Fair enough.”

The Coffin Head Throne pulsated a bit more as Cadance was lowered down to us. She looked to the Doctor. “Do you still have the horn-bomb?”

He withdrew it from his pocket.

“Place it upon my horn, please.”

We all withdrew in horror. “N-No!” I cried. “We—We can’t do that!”

“You must!” she said. “The Windigus Prime has grown to the point where only the most hateful creatures can draw it into themselves!”

“But you’re not hateful!” I protested.

Suddenly, I felt Cadance’s hoof find its way to my face and sent me down to the floor with a smack. “Idiot!” she cried. “Don’t you remember? This machine has drained me of every drop of love for almost a thousand years! Hatred is not the opposite of love, it is what takes its place when it disappears! My love for your brother is all but gone! And I…”

Cadance made a face that implied she’d have cried if her eyes would have allowed it. “And I would rather die than live without him. I would rather die than for him to find me… and see me for the monster I am now. So… please. Put that bomb on my horn.”

After some hesitance, the Doctor placed the bomb on Cadance’s horn. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. The Alterna-Doctor lowered his head and shed a tear. I feared for him… how was he going to break this news to his dear friend, Shining Armor? To my brother? To Cadance’s husband? This development would…

…It would destroy him. It had to be done, but Shining Armor would be destroyed in the process.

The Coffin Head Throne raised her again, a safe distance away from us and close enough to the “Diabolus ex-Machina” to destroy it. “I am going to attempt to draw the Windigus Prime from you. He has been struggling within you throughout this conversation. Afterwards, I will cast a simple spell.”

“Can I suggest one?” I asked, after thinking it over.

“… Very well.”

I breathed. “Since you can see at any point in time, can you cast a spell to any point in time, too?” It shouldn’t be that hard, I thought; all one needs to do to manipulate something is to envision it. If she had seen everything as if she had been there herself, then…

“… Yes, but it may be hard. Why?”

“Almost four years ago, Shining Armor threw himself off a cliff. To die. He—He wanted to die. Do you know any spells that could bring him back to life?”

She thought this over. “I do know of the Feather Fall spell. I can slow his descent at the last moment. He’ll be hurt, but he’ll live.”

I smiled. Everything really DID happen for a reason.

Then she closed her eyes and asked me to concentrate. Concentrate on those I love, and draw from that. I assume she had no love left to give to anypony, so if I felt love for more ponies than her, it would catch the Windigus Prime’s attention and draw him to her. So I closed my eyes, and I thought…

…My parents… Shining Armor… Cadance… Spike… You… My friends… All the ponies I’d met in this dimension… the Doctor…

I focused for a very long time on how much I loved my friends and family. I drew strength from knowing how important I was to them, and how important they were to me. I felt stronger and stronger, as if a great, cold weight was being lifted from me. I heard the Doctors both gasp and opened my eyes.

There it was, the Windigo I saw from before, the Windigus Prime. It was being drawn into Cadance’s body. “Come on, loser,” she growled. “You like picking on kids? Loser! Come on, pick on somepony your OWN age!”

Then the Windigus Prime entered her, emitting a laugh that was shrill and horrendous. It was like all that was wrong with the world—every one of its ills—had gathered together, screamed for an infinite second, then suddenly became silent. I fought the urge to make a mess on the floor.

Cadance’s face looked pained. This was it. The Doctor and Alterna-Doctor both held me and apologized for what I was going to see. Before she cast her spell, I thought I heard Cadance whisper a word.

“…Arise…”

We sat there for a few seconds. I opened my eyes and looked up. Cadance held an expression of befuddlement.

The horn hadn’t exploded.

Suddenly, she began to laugh. At first, it was a haughty-sounding laugh. Then it became shrill and horrendous. Cadance looked to the Doctor with eyes that didn’t belong to her.

“You insipid fool!” said the Windigus Prime. “You forgot to activate the bomb!”

Next Chapter: 23. My Brother's Battle (Second Movement) Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 26 Minutes