“Something’s going to happen tonight, Caramel.”

Caramel stared straight ahead and kept his pace towards Ponyville’s main square. “Is that so?”

“When we break through the rooftop window’s security and get onto the topmost balcony--when we have to deal with the guards inside the building.”

“Mhmm.”

“When we get to those guards, I have to cast that knock-out spell. You remember that?”

“Yeah. It’s that magical-neural relay thing. Like, uh, kinking a hose that carries the life force of the universe instead of water. Course I do.”

“Listen. When I do that, when I cast that spell--and this is more or less instantaneous--I’m going to start crying.”

Caramel frowned. The buildings rose taller and taller on either side of them, gleaming in the sunlight. “You’re gonna cry?”

“It’s unavoidable. I’ve tried before. When you touch their magical-neural relay, when you lay your magic on it and start twisting, their consciousness arcs through you like electricity. Their memories jet into your head. You live their whole lives in an instant--become them, basically.”

“That’s freaky. Can you really not put it out of your head?”

“Memories don’t work like that. I can’t forget them. I can’t even focus on specific ones. Memory to us is fragmented because we know our own thoughts. I remember one thing at a time, or a couple things, or a pattern. Not everything at once. But everything I’ve ever seen and heard and touched is there. It’s running in the background. It’s unconscious. One brain can’t deal with two sets of consciousness--there’s bound to be some extent of emotional damage--”

“Emotional damage?” Caramel scoffed.

“This is serious. If something I see in there causes me to lose control of the spell for whatever reason. You have to shoot them.” Caramel turned his head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t?”

“Nope. One loud gunshot and the whole job is over. If they see us, we need to act quickly and quietly. Can’t you take care of them with the same spell?”

“The spell doesn’t work like that. It’s not a violent spell, just an invasive one. Plus I’d be too emotionally compromised to cast another spell for at least another minute or so.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“It’s more fair that way, too. Bullets only have a seventy to eighty percent chance of killing the guards if you shot at them blindly, which I assume you’ll do. So long as you hit them it’ll incapacitate them, which is all we need. If I mount a counterspell, there wouldn’t be ashes to collect. One hundred percent mortality rate. That’s the math of a combat mage.” She looked at him earnestly. “You can’t argue with math.”

“Are you serious?”

“Caramel, contained somewhere within my brain is the trigger for a magical spell that would drag the two closest neighboring dimensions through our dimension while retaining their general shapes. The effect is sorta like walking into an infinitely dense wall of piano wire at faster than the speed of light. Three separate universes would get shredded simultaneously. I am trying to be as fair as possible.”

“You couldn’t have told me this during our meetings?” A pair of autocarriages rushed past them, muffling his words. “You must get a real kick out of those spells to keep ‘em in your brain like that.”

Twilight would never admit it, but on some level Caramel was right. It calmed her down a little when she needed to remind herself of her place in the world. Sitting on a rainbow, with the ripcord of the universe wrapped around her hoof.

She turned the corner onto Main Street and almost bumped into a crowd of ponies lined up along the street. It snaked several times around a hastily constructed barricade and disappeared inside the mayor’s office. Neon signs lined the road.

“I know the guards, Caramel. I appointed most of them. I’m not gonna kill them.”

“Alright, but nopony’s killing anypony if we do this right. What’s got you so bent on these killing contingencies? Nopony’s gonna die.”

“Somepony’s gonna die. Someopny always dies. We’re so lucky, but it doesn’t make sense. We aren’t dead. You cast these spells and somepony dies. That’s how it works.” She gestured to the off-duty guards walking away from the mayor’s office. “I just get that feeling our luck won’t hold. Luck doesn’t hold. That’s why it’s luck.” Caramel scoffed. “Three universes, Caramel. Three dimensions. Do you know how large a dimension is?”

Somepony finally noticed the newest princess of Equestria cutting their place in line. The crowd came alive. Ponies turned. Cliques disbanded and reformed.

“Are you ready?” Caramel asked.

“Your majesty!” One of Equestria’s royal guards broke formation and trotted towards her. “It’s an honor to receive you.” He stopped at a respectful distance and bowed.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Brass Bell.” Twilight shot Caramel a look of caution before returning her attention to the guardspony. “You know you don’t need to bow to me.”

“Just doing my job, Princess.”

“Of course,” she chuckled.

“I regret to inform you that we do not have an official visit on the books. We can clear the hall for your tour, but it will take several minutes.”

“That’s not necessary. Let the tours continue. I just want to pop in with the general crowd and take a look around.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The lieutenant looked at Caramel, who flinched at the sight of golden armor. “Is he with you?”

“Yes, lieutenant.”

“I’ll fetch him a lanyard.”

The three of them walked towards the mayor’s office, the lieutenant making a path through the onlookers to the door, where another five guardsponies stood waiting.

“Excuse us, everypony,” one of the guards announced. Three snapped to rigid attention while the last opened the set of double doors leading inside. The flurry of guard activity made Caramel’s fur prickle, but Twilight payed him no mind. This was her element; the human aspect of bureaucracy.

She nodded to the guardspony holding the door. “Thank you Sergeant Silvercrest.”

Once they were through the door, Caramel whispered, “You can tell the difference?”

“You can’t?”

The sound of more guards snapping to attention stayed any conversation. Multiple tour groups stopped to gawk at the princess. Twilight paused as well, admiring the dramatic facelift the mayor’s office had undergone to accommodate the Crystal Heart exhibition. Displays and smaller exhibits poured from what used to be a series of conference rooms. The second floor, where most of the private offices resided, had been cordoned off. A sign saying CRYSTAL HEART MAIN DISPLAY NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY hung above the main meeting hall. Just as Twilight feared, a thick metal horseshoe three ponies tall and just as wide braced the door.

Two more guards, one of them the standard gold and the other a shimmering purple crystal, ushered the two through the crowd. Caramel inched closer to Twilight.

"Shouldn't there be more crystal guards here?" Caramel muttered to Twilight. "It's their heart."

"You're right. Wherever the heart goes is technically Crystal soil.”

"Maybe they have different labor laws. Maybe they get more breaks or something. I wouldn't put it past them. They're practically socialists up there."

Lieutenant Brass Bell returned from one of the administrative rooms and hoofed a lanyard to Caramel. “Make sure you wear this at all times,” he instructed. “This will mark you as the princess’s plus-one. You two have full access to the facilities, public and administrative. If you need anything, just ask anypony in uniform.”

Twilight and Caramel nodded in unison.

“Brass Bell?” Carmel mused as the guardspony wandered off. “That doesn’t seem like a soldierly name.”

“Lieutenant Brass Bell is an accomplished horn player. He was part of the Fillydelphia symphony before he got drafted.” Twilight walked a slow circle around Caramel as she spoke, her horn pulsing faintly. “I must be getting a faulty magic reading. Maybe there’s too many ponies in the room.”

“Well, do it again. Royal guards make me nervous.”

She hesitated. “There. Again. There’s nothing.”

“There can’t be no magic in this room.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Maybe it’s a large-scale magical cancellation field. But we would feel that the moment we stepped into it.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll adjust. We’re flexible.”

“There’s never nothing. I must be doing something wrong.”

“Keep circling and you’ll attract somepony’s attention.” He laid a hoof on her shoulder and tugged her towards the main doors. “Let’s take a walk.” As they approached the exit, the noticed a squad of Crystal guards congregated just outside the door, partially blocking their path. “Oh, there they all are. I didn’t see them when we came in.”

“Maybe they were on break,” Twilight echoed, caught in Caramel’s pull.

“Right. So, why don’t your princessly thing and make a path. I’d rather not look at crystal guards, if it’s all the same to you.”

At that point the crystal guards finally noticed the princess standing behind them. The five of them drew back in hesitation before shuffling into formation and bowing like conquered savages.

“One more time around the place,” Twilight muttered. “Then we can go.”

Caramel nodded, his eyes fixed on the guards. “Thanks.”