Ponies were not evolved to properly use machines. It was something obvious to everypony, and something that had been studied endlessly by scholars for centuries, if not millennia. They were a species with no fingers, forced to manipulate their world with their teeth or hooves. Of them, only the unicorns had any real dexterity through the use of their magic- -and yet equines had still become the dominant, tool-using race of Equestria, forcing out much more evolutionarily suited groups- -some to complete extinction.

The academic analysis of this odd course of events was something Five had given a great deal of thought to, but whenever she needed to repair something, it was her main source of complaint. Although she possessed the ability to use magic, she was not a true unicorn- -or, since she had wings, an alicorn- -and her magic was extremely limited in its use. It could not be used to hold a tool or pull apart delicate screws, or to fuse components of microcircuitry and precision optic pumps. Since she had purchased an early model decades back, she had become heavily reliant on the manipulator gauntlets she wore- -which, as fate would have it, were the things that most often broke.

She looked at bent remnant of her left gauntlet, and then took a tiny screwdriver in her mouth and opened the panels, accessing the internal components. Whatever she had been hit with- -a heavy iron bar, she surmised- -had hit sideways, taking her arm and shattering the mechanical side of the device. Thankfully, the computer module and interface were still functional.

So she sat on a log, her work lit by firelight as she rapidly changed tools and expertly repaired her equipment. She was, of course, painfully aware of the iron of what she was doing. Technically, she could have used her magic to restore machine. It would only have taken a few seconds to flood the broken machine with Order, forcing it back into its original configuration. Five simply did not want to, though. She abhorred using her magic, except when absolutely necessary. Rebuilding flesh was one thing, because there was no other way to heal it- -but machines were different. For those, she chose to use her own hoofs and skills instead of magic.

There was a musical call as Philomena descended from the darkness, landing gracefully on one of the other logs that Five had supplied around the fire.

“Hello,” said Five, not looking up as she gently pried open a microservo. As soon as it was open, she turned toward the phoenix. Philomena was, indeed, an impressive bird, her body covered with orange and red feathers that seemed to glow from within. “You did well today,” said Five. She reached into her bag, fishing past the bits of repair equipment, ammunition, and samples that she had not yet added to the Pocket’s inventory. She drew out a container. “Not like Gell. You did what I asked. Warned me, then waited. Let me fight my own battles.”

The bird looked at the container with feigned disinterest, knowing fully well what was inside it. Five held the can far away from her face and twisted the lid. She tried to hold her breath against the powerful stench, but it still found its way into her nostrils and made her eyes water and her stomach churn.

“Here,” she gasped, withdrawing one of the warty, contorted red fruit. She threw it to Philomena, who caught it in her beak and immediately began to tear it apart, revealing the bright yellow flesh within.

“I know not how you eat them,” said Five, resealing the container. She actually did; like all birds, Philomena was simply not sensitive to capsaicin, and therefore not bothered by the spice of hot peppers.

Five returned to her work, and heard another more annoyed squawk from Philomena.

“I will do it when I am done,” she said, extending a probe from her remaining gauntlet and testing the circuitry.

Philomena released another squawk, this one louder.

“Fine, fine!” said Five, dropping what she was doing and reaching back into her bag. “Just do not breath that pepper gas on me. I hate that smell.”

She moved her hand through the bag and removed a square, box-like container. She popped open the lid and poured out one of the objects contained onto the stump she was using as a table, being careful not to get it into the wires and fiberoptics. It was a hoof-sized cube of white, jiggly material.

Five replaced the container in her bag and picked up the cube. It shook in her hoof, as if with anticipation, and she took a bite of it. It was absolutely flavorless, without any real texture.

“See,” she said. “I do eat.”

Although she would not admit it, of course, Philomena was correct. The flavorless cube of synthetic nutrients was astoundingly delicious, and Five immediately felt less irritable.

Five paused from her work and nibbled on her nutrient cube for a moment, staring at the flames before her. The soil in this particular area was unusual in composition, and lent itself to producing trees that burned far darker and more red than normal.

Amused by the fire, she set down her cube and stepped forward. Without any hesitation, she plunged her left foreleg into the fire. She watched as the hair immediately singed, and felt the pain as her flesh burned- -and still she held it there. She watched as her skin split and charred and smoked, and as her blood and muscle boiled and sizzled. The smoke from the fire smelled much like cooking meat.

Then the pain stopped. The nerves had died, and Five pulled out her leg. It had become thinner, and was charred and pink, leaking fluid and smoking. It was covered in significant third and fourth degree burns. Philomena sat beside her, occasionally taking bites from her pepper, only watching.

Almost without her control, blue sparks suddenly surged across the broken skin. The Order permeated her cells, feeding on their entropy and reanimating them, reconnecting what had been broken. For a moment, Five watched as magic battled thermodynamics and handily won. In seconds, her limb had been fully restored. She flexed her elbow and returned to her seat.

“Sometimes I wonder,” she said, “how a body such as this can even exist.” She paused. “Or rather, should it.”

Philomena said nothing, but stared back at Five, as if understanding, or at least trying to.

“It’s backward,” continued Five. “Gunfire, lasers, plasma, flame, knives, beatings, poison- -none of them can kill me, at least not with ease.” She turned to the phoenix. “And that is ironic, when you consider what will kill me. Hence the inversion.”

She picked up her cube of food and finished it, then went back to work. She imagined that Gell would have had something to say, even if it was just another perverse wisecrack, had she been present around the fire. She was not, of course. Like always, she had returned to the Pocket.

Like most things in their lives, it was another irresolvable issue between the two. They simply could not understand each other’s views. Gell saw no reason to stay outside at night. Even though she was nearly indestructible, she hated extremes in temperature and especially rain. As such, she spent as much time in the Pocket. She had even designated one of the many subbasements as her own, filling it with a pool of broken glass that she slept in and shelves containing various “specimens” that she chose to surround herself with. Gell, as numerous arguments with Five had shown, simply could not understand Five’s desire to stay outside.

Likewise, Five could not even bear the thought of staying inside the Pocket. In all technical regards, it was well stocked and livable. Great care had been taken in its construction; it was complete with an atmosphere and low radiation levels. It had even been decorated- -mostly by Three- -to resemble a kind of building on the inside, complete with rooms. Five, personally, would have just left it hollow, like a warehouse.

There was something wrong with it, though. It was difficult to articulate, but the idea of existing in an artificial parallel dimension terrified her. The very idea that the exterior walls had nothing on the other side made her shiver. It was certainly a good place to store materials or equipment, or even to perform certain specialized work- -but to actually live in such a place was unfathomable.

Philomena seemed to agree, as did all ponies who Five had encountered who had ever used a Pocket, even the wizards responsible for their construction. Only demons, it seemed, were comfortable within. Five hypothesized, because of that, that the reason why mortals rejected the Pocket was a factor of them possessing a soul. Demons, unlike ponies, birds, or really anything in Equestria, had no souls, at least not in the sense that ponies did.

Which was not to say they had no souls. They had one, shared amongst them all: the soul of Satin Veil. It was what single, immortal soul that gave them their unique durability and limited use of magic. It was also the reason why partial demons, though large, were so weak- -they lacked the blessing of Satin. Which, Five figured, probably meant that they would reject existing in a Pocket for prolonged periods as well. She wondered if there was a way to test it.

As she was pondering, something caused her to shiver. She looked up to the sky, but saw nothing- -but she had felt something, something that perhaps only she was able to. It was quiet and distant, like somepony dropping a wrench in a distant, dark cavern- -but she had felt Order.

“Did you feel that?” she said to Philomena. “No, of course you did not.”

Five too a moment to snap her manipulator back together and slid it onto her hoof. She felt the system integrate to her arm, and flexed the claw-fingers. They were now working properly, with full functionality. She projected a hologram to display the results of an intermediate-level scan. Machines, of course, could not detect Order except in tremendous quantities or with only the most expensive of reader-tubes, but Five wanted to check anyway.

“Wait,” she said. She scrolled through the readings, trying to confirm what she was seeing. “That isn’t right…”

She reached into her bags and searched once again, but did not find what she needed. Five sighed, and instead pulled out a round, wheel-like handle. If she did not have her scanner extensions in her bags, they must have still been in inventory.

Five stepped back from the fire toward the border of the dark woods, momentarily pausing to look down from the high cliffs down over the remnants of the Ponyville, admiring the long-abandoned Palace of Friendship from a poetic distance.

Then she returned to her task. She held the handle vertically and pressed the button in the center, locking it into place. An internal light that normally glowed red shifted to violet, signifying that the connection was successful. Five spun the metal wheel. It was resistant at first, but then started to move more freely.

Once it had reached an adequate point, she pulled it open. Space hissed and made a characteristic rending sound as a door that had previously not existed was pulled open, leading deep into the Pocket.

Five poked her head into the black void that had suddenly appeared out of the air. She reached in for the light switch, trying to feel for it, but could not find it. One side-effect of Three’s construction of the Pocket was that the door was not locked in place- -it appeared at random within the Pocket when it was summoning. It was terribly annoying, but Five did not know how to change that setting.

“Gell,” she called into the darkness, trying to do so quietly as not to attract predators from the Forest. “Gell, get out here!”

There was no response. Five took a deep breath. “Bluntforce Gelding!” she cried.

Gell’s face suddenly appeared from the darkness, approaching so quickly that their noses booped.

“My ears are bigger than yours,” she said, brushing shards of broken glass from her coat. Five saw Gell was not wearing her armor; she was completely naked. “I heard you the first time.”

“Do you need to…um…add clothing?”

“No, no,” said Gell sarcastically, pushing Five aside and stepping into the firelight. “I’ll just wake up and step out here, my vulnerable, naked, virgin body to the elements.”

“I was not aware that you were a virgin,” said Five, closing the door behind her.

Gell looked over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “I’m a five-century old demon,” she said. “I was joking. Do you have any idea how many mares I’ve slain?”

“I would rather not know.”

“There was this one time when Three and I- -”

“No, no!” said Five, flattening her hears against her head with her hoof. “Three was my grandmother I do not want to know!”

“Well then, tell me why you got me out here in the middle of the…um…day?”

“It is night,” said Five. “Did not I purchase you a watch?”

Gell gestured to herself. “Naked,” she said.

“Fine,” said Five. “Just so you know, I’m naked as well. Look.” She turned her rump and lifting her tail with her claw.

“Oh, come on,” said Gell, turning her head away and covering her eyes. “You’re like my daughter or something. I do not need to see that!”

“Then pay attention,” said Five, returning to her normal direction. She displayed her hologram, enlarging it, showing to both Gell and Philomena. “Do you realize what this means?”

Gell frowned, and then turned her own rump toward Five, gesturing toward her cutie mark. “Special talent: testicular carnage,” she said. “Not testicular wizardry…hmm…”

“Focus,” said Five. “The base scan indicates dimensional oscillation. Not far from here. At this very moment, a reaction is being catalyzed.”

“So?”

“So, we need to go see what it does.”

“Why?”

Five sighed. “Because who knows what it could mean? What we may see?”

“The last time we followed something you picked up on that…thing…we had to fight a leviathan. And aren’t you supposed to be collecting skulls?”

“It was a dwarf leviathan,” corrected Five. “And I only drowned twice. As for the skulls, they can wait. The good thing about profit-motivated work is that it does not matter if it is completed. Assuming I die in failing it, I suppose.”

“How optimistic. Can I go back to bed?”

“No. Help me get the large scanning unit.”

Gell sighed, but followed Five back into the Pocket. Although she was tired, it was also clear that she had become curious, if only slightly.