Author's Notes:

Going to the Equestria Girls world for this part. Don’t worry, pony Shade is still alive and kicking.

In the middle of the circular White Room, rests a throne made of bones. Resting on the Bone Throne (a name the dead had cleverly came up with—Death just calls it uncomfortable) is the Goddess of Death. She huffs as she tugs at her black dress to remove the creases from sitting down. Her cerise eyes glower at the albino woman in chains at the foot of the dais. Pale yellow eyes share her temperament.

Death leaps to her feet. Her black heels clatter against the white stone. She smiles sweetly at the woman in chains. “I want to thank you for reminding me why I sent you over there in the first place.”

“‘Thank’ me?” The woman’s face shifts away from confusion as a smile spreads across her face. “How can I hug you while in chains?”

Death extends her right hand and balls it into a fist. The chains snap tight against the albino woman and she grunts in pain.

“Shade. I made the mistake of becoming involved with your sentencing. I allowed my feelings to cloud my judgment. No longer will my emotions control me.” Death speaks with a hollowness Shade has never heard before.

As the chains grow slack and Shade gulps down a lungful of air she watches the young form of Death merges with shadow. A seven foot tall figure in a black robe now stands before Shade. The dull, incandescent glow emitting from the arms, hood, and feet of the robe show no trace of the pink haired woman.

With the voices of a hundred thousand beings bellowing and whispering Death carries out Shade’s sentence. “The Condemned before me, you shall roam the Mortal Planes for all eternity cursed with Limbo; never to feel life, never to feel death, never to feel respite, never to forget, never to lie—whose words shall not be heeded, and never to exceed the limitations of mortals.”

“Is that all?” Shade asks with an even tone and smirk.

Death remains silent as a platinum scroll case appears with the wave of a hand. The case is no longer than fifty centimeter with a ten centimeter diameter. A ten centimeter handle in the middle of the scroll case pulls out to reveal a crystalline lattice scroll glowing with the intensity of a blue star.

Shade’s white brows knit tightly together. She draws in sharp breaths as Death pushes the scroll closer. Her pupils shrinking to the size of pin heads.

The scroll passes through the chains like water.

The scroll passes through Shade like lava.

Her howling bounces and echoes throughout the Dread Hall. The colorful exterior of the Dread Hall contains her wails to keep from disturbing the Reapers and Reavers going about their business in the Painted City. A Reaper standing guard in front of the Pink Doors turns to face them when a whistle passes between the doors. With a shrug they return to facing forward.

Screaming pierces the silence of the woods. Flocks of birds take to the blue skies adding their voices to the scream, small critters retreat to borrows, while larger beasts run away from the source of the noise.

Sunset Shimmer’s blood freezes in her veins as her cyan eyes scan the dense vegetation in the direction that scream had come from; disturbingly close by. Could a human create such an unholy cacophony? She begins to stuff her drawing supplies as quickly as possible In her backpack. Another sound stops her from running away—crying.

The choked kind of crying someone in intense physical pain sputters while trying to remain as quite as possible. Probably to keep from annoying their “father” so he will stop beating her. Sunset shakes her head making her orange and red locks of hair smack her face as she tries to repress the memories.

Against her better judgment, Sunset heads towards the noise. She has her pocket knife out just in case.

“Yeah, just in case a rabbit attacks me,” she snarks to herself.

As she continues forward she notices grey smoke rising behind shrubs up ahead. A shiver crawls down her spine despite the warm Summer morning. A groan makes her stop. Sniffling and whimpering from up ahead perk up her ears.

“Hello?” She manages to squeak out from a suddenly dry mouth.

The noises stop.

She licks her lips and clears her throat. “I-I’m not going to hurt you. Do you need help?” Sunset slips the pocket knife into her jean pocket noting the extra lubrication her sweat adds. So that’s where all her moisture went.

A pitiful whimper answers her.

Sunset breaks through the bushes to find herself looking at a scene she honestly thinks could have been much worse. Of all the scenarios that had played out in her mind, she had felt she lucked out with this one.

A girl with snow-white skin and an equally white faux hawk—around Sunset’s age—lays on her back completely nude. She makes no attempt to hide her modesty. Pale yellow eyes stare up at her full of pain and ferocity. What catches Sunset’s attention the most is the grotesque scar that stretches from the girls clavicles down to the top of her belly button ruining her defined abs.

Instead of words coming out of the girls mouth a squeak emerges.

“S-Sorry!” Sunset apologies and turns away. She removes her backpack to pull out a red and white checkered picnic blanket. “This is all I have at the moment.” She offers the blanket by holding her arm behind her as far as her joints will allow.

Grunting and labored breathing is the only response Sunset gets. After a few minutes of listening to the girl struggle Sunset feels the blanket slip from her grasp.

Tapping on her shoulder makes Sunset turn around. She notices the girl had tied the blanket around her like a towel. Also the girl stands a few inches shorter than Sunset, then again her boots do add two inches.

“Are you feeling better?”

The girl opens her mouth to answer but stops and nods her head with a sigh.

Death’s words echo inside Shade’s mind. If she wants others to believe her she needs to not speak. A loop hole she had read about from the autobiographies of others cursed with Limbo. She will also need to learn the visual language of this world.

“Do you know how you got here?”

Nod.

Sunset stares at the girl for a moment. “Are you deaf? Can you not speak?”

Head shake. Nod.

“So. . . you’re not deaf but you can’t speak. Mute then?”

Nod.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Lengthy sigh and nod. Shade mimes writing with her left hand on her right hand.

Sunset smacks her forehead. “Duh! My bad.” Quick rifling in her backpack and she produces her sketch pad and a pencil to the girl who readily accepts.

Two minutes of writing later and the girl shows the sketchbook to Sunset.

A frown tugs down Sunset’s face. “I have no idea what that says.”

The girl thrusts the sketchbook and pencil to Sunset miming for her to write. Sunset complies and shows off the couple sentences to the girl.

“Of course,” the girl mimes as she takes the sketchbook and pencil back. She scribbles a few lines and reveals what she writes to Sunset.

“‘Shade’? Well, nice to meet you Shade. My name is Sunset Shimmer.” They shake hands. “You know how you got here but you won’t tell me because you think I won’t believe you?”

Nod.

“Try me.”

Shade stares at the amber skin girl doubtfully. Nevertheless, she writes down one word.

Sunset looks at the paper then at the girl then back to the paper again. “‘Alien?’”

Nod.

“Yup. Don’t believe you.”

Shade rolls her eyes and huffs.