The world changed again. This time, there was no sensation of falling. Rather, there was a sense of inversion, as the ground below had suddenly turned over rather than being pulled out entirely. Lilium blinked, suddenly finding herself in a completely different location than before.

The change could not have been more radical. She had moved from a bucolic pony town to a crowded room permeated by pumping, beat-heavy music.The multicolored lights were dazzling, and the floor was crowded. With what, though, was the question.

Lilium had thought that the people of the real-world were already diverse: there were ponies, humans, animal-folk, whatever Elrod was, and she had gotten a sense that there was another species of artificial intelligence other than ponies. Here, though, there were things that Lilium did not even know the names for. She saw all the races she had seen before, plus what seemed like a million others: animals, aliens, bizarre mechanical constructs, bodies made entirely out of luminescent fluid or translucent glowing plates. It was blinding and absurd, watching these things as they danced or floated through the air or ordered drinks at the bar, but at the same time Lilium immediately understood what they were. She had their metadata. Many of them were human, although a few- -usually those that took the form of beautiful and often nude humans- -were zoonei. Many were synths; some were even ponies dancing and prancing among friends.

“What in the name of Celestia’s rump…”

“Do you like it?” asked Morgana. Through all the noise, it should have been impossible to hear her, and yet somehow her voice came through perfectly.

“No. Not at all!”

“Me neither. But it’s useful. This place is called Hub 147.”

“Why are we here?”

“Because we need somewhere to talk where she won’t hear us. Come on.”

Lilium followed Morgana through the crowd, or at least tried to. The individuals around her continually bumped her, and she was pretty sure she felt one of them grab her rump.

“Hey!” she cried, striking out with magic. She was surprised by that; it had been the first time in a long time she had been able to use her horn. The first time ever, in fact.

“Ow! My tentacle!” cried the patron she had struck.

“Oh come on! You don’t even have tentacles! You’re an accountant from Virginia!”

The patron’s numerous eyes widened. “You- -you can’t know that! You’re hacking metadata! Hacker, hacker! Privacy invasion, PRIVACY- -”

He suddenly vanished. Morgana, who had been in front of Lilium before now stood behind him. “I would recommend you DON’T let them know you can see that,” she said. “It’s not a normal thing. And if I dump too many of these shlubs the Moderators might start to notice.”

“Oh…right. Sorry.”

“I don’t need apologies, just don’t do it again.”

They started walking again, this time with Lilium staying close to Morgana. As they moved, Lilium began to realized that the room they were in was not a room at all. It was indoors, but it had no distinct or definite shape.

“How big is this place?” she asked.

“As big as it needs to be. This is one chamber of many, many more. They have hallways that branch off into other places. Rooms where you can find whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Things have less consequence here. So any sort of depravity you want, you can do it.”

“Depravity? Like what?”

“Do you really want to know? How about this one: a man whose fetish it was to have a running chainsaw shoved up his ass by a merino sheep.”

Lilium. “That’s disgusting! And you saw that here?”

“No, I saw that in the real world. It was a case. In the end, it turns out he used to be a fan of that here. His wife managed to convince him to try it in real life. Insurance money was involved.”

Lilium looked around, desperately hoping that she did not see any chainsaw-wielding sheep. There were none, but unfortunately she saw a number of rumps, human or otherwise.

As she looked, though, she saw something else. It was so strange that it gave her pause, and she stopped walking to stare. Of all the bizarre things throughout this room, what had caught her attention was a strange distortion in the air. It was not terribly striking visually; it just looked like distortion, or perhaps a number of abstract polygons swirling and partially rendering around a single dark point.

What was strange about it was that as it drifted through the crowd, it never once approached any of the dancers or patrons. They seemed to get out of the way- -or rather, space enlarged around the distortion only for it to seal behind it as it came through.

“What the…?”

“Keep moving,” said Morgana, pushing Lilium from behind. Her voice had an unusual sense of urgency to it.

“That…that’s a huorn…”

“It’s a Moderator. Now MOVE.”

“A Moderator?” Twilight started walking.

“Yes, of course a Moderator. A dead synth or maybe pieces of a person, I don’t know. But not all huorns are peaceful trees. Some of them are really hateful bastards.”

Lilium allowed herself to be pushed away, but she kept her eyes on the anomaly. She could sense that it perceived her, but she also was instinctively aware that it was not a sentient being so much as a wandering mass of programming. Watching it was somewhat unsettling; she hoped that the War Stone was not a creature like that.

“Why are we here again?” she asked, confused.

“Sit.”

Morgana pointed toward an open booth, one that had not been there a second ago. Lilium did as she was told and took a seat across from Morgana.

Suddenly, the room went quiet. Lilium looked out and saw that the floor was empty. There were no people, and the music had stopped. Only the colorful lights remained, but they were now relatively consistent and no longer flashing.

“What just happened?” She was starting to panic.

“Nothing. I encrypted us. We’re slightly out of phase with the rest of the Hub, but still inside it. This place always gives me migraines.” Her horn glowed, and she lifted a glass of brown liquid to her mouth.

“Hey, where did you get that?”

“Nowhere. We’re not in the real world, remember? Reality is plastic here. The Hub even has a pretty advanced interface system for it. I don’t use it, but you can.”

Lilium had no idea what that meant, and yet she still found her mind reaching out into the world around her. As she did, she sensed something. Although it had no distinct shape in a way that could be described by any of the traditional senses, she immediately comprehended at least the basics of how to apply it.

She looked down at the table. A wine flute of sparkling cider had appeared beside her.

“See?” said Morgana. “You’re already getting the hang of it.”

“Slowly, sure.” Lilium lifted the glass and took a sip. It actually had a taste, although it was nothing like Applejack’s cider had been in her memories of Ponyville. “Now,” she said, putting the glass down. “Can you tell me why we came to a dance club?”

“It’s not a dance club exactly. It’s a gathering place. I use it from time to time, when I need to meet people and they want to be as anonymous as possible without doing the work to encrypt themselves.”

“In other words, ordinary people. The kind that aren’t wizards.”

“Exactly. And that’s exactly why we’re here.”

“For wizards?”

“No, dipshit. Because this place has high intrinsic anonymity. We’re pretty secure here by design.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we can talk without necessarily being heard.”

Lilium frowned. “What do you mean ‘necessarily’?”

Morgana sighed. “That’s the thing. We’re not dealing with normal rules here, are we? The War Stone is a god. She can do pretty much whatever she wants. Breaking in here would be trivial to her. The thing is, she doesn’t know where I am right now and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t care. And if she does care, then it will take her longer to find me in here.”

“I think you just wanted a drink.”

“I do love scotch. But to be honest it tastes better in my physical body. I have a really good mass spectrometer in it. And why shouldn’t I have a drink? I’m going to need it for what we’re about to do.”

“Which is what, exactly? Please tell me you have a plan.” Lilium paused. “On second thought, I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Morgana was silent for a moment. Then she took another shot of scotch, which did not drain any of the liquid from her glass. “I do have a plan. And no, you’re not going to like it.”

“Oh boy…”

Morgana stared across the table. “The War Stone is all-powerful,” she said, “but only in a virtual setting. That doesn’t actually mean much, because these days the two are getting closer and closer every minute. But I think it’s the only weakness she has, or at least the only one I’d be able to exploit.”

“If you wanted to attack her in the real word, we shouldn’t have bothered coming here. Unless you meant this as another educational experience?”

Morgana shook her head. “No. We need to be here. We need to find her first.”

“And then what?”

“I attempt to talk. Who knows, maybe God doesn’t hate me as much as I think.”

“That’s not a very good plan.”

“Because it isn’t the plan.” Morgana took a sip from her scotch. “I am a technomancer,” she said. “Do you know what that means?”

“A machine wizard.”

“Yes and no. You could go out on that dance floor and find a hundred hackers who aren’t technomancers, some of them who are probably as good or better than me, even. The problem is, their hacking is like the way the War Stone works- -it’s just virtual. In this world only. A technomancer is special. We are the bridge between the Virtual and the True.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I intend to trap her in the physical world.”

“You mean seal her. Like a genie, with the seal of Solomon. Of course that’s only folklore…”

“But not a bad analogy.”

Lilium looked concerned. “Is that something you can even do? And where are you going to put her?”

Morgana did not answer the first part. To answer the second, she pointed to her chest. “In me. That’s why I’m running in server-mode. Right now, the War Stone is a diffuse consciousness, moving throughout physical space instantaneously. But if I trap part of her in a known location…”

“Part? Wouldn’t it be better to trap the whole thing?”

“I’d burn up in an instant. There is not a single computer in existence that can house her entire consciousness. But I don’t need the whole thing. Just a piece.”

“And she won’t just leave the piece behind?”

“She could, but it would be like a bear caught in a trap. Separating would tear a piece of her away; it would be horribly painful. Maybe even more so than losing a physical limb. She won’t be able to leave until I release her.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll get to that part when we cross that bridge. The first thing we need to do is find her. Then we need to survive long enough for me to get close.”

“I was actually thinking about that.” Lilium leaned forward. “You keep saying this place is dangerous, but I don’t really understand how. I mean, it’s an illusion, right? Like a projection spell, but technological instead of magical. So, like you said- -nothing here really has consequences. We can’t actually get hurt. Not by an illusion, anyway.”

Morgana’s gaze suddenly became stern, and Lilium felt her confidence in her assertion fading- -and her hope along with it. “No,” she said. “For humans, maybe. But not to us.”

“But that doesn’t make sense! We’re not that different- -”

“We are VERY different. For everyone except Josephine van der Kriegstein, humans are bound to physical bodies. Their perception of this world is sensory. If you kill a human here? Nothing happens. It’s no different from dying in a videogame. Their brain remains intact, and the worst that happens is identity schisms and psychological trauma.”

“But we’re Cartesian…our minds are free-floating programs…”

“Exactly. This world is just as real to us as the physical one. If our program is damaged, so are we. If it gets too damaged, we die.” She sighed. “Not that being human would protect us much in this case anyway. According to legend, the War Stone doesn’t differentiate. She can kill humans just as easily as ponies.”

Lilium gulped. “Right,” she said. “Well, that’s something I now know…”

“You can still back out if you want.”

“I gave you my word. And a promise to a friend isn’t something you can just break. And what kind of pony would I be if I let you face something like that all alone?” Lilium shook her head. “I’ll go, but you’re going to have to cover me. I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I promise I’ll do my best.”

Lilium gave a weak smile. “So,” she said, trying to change the subject to something less terrifying. “Like you said, we still haven’t come to that bridge. First we gave to find her. Any ideas?”

“I have a few. Here.” Morgana pointed her hoof at the table. An object appeared on it. Lilium stared at it, confused. It was about six inches tall, but somewhat resembled a human. It was thinner, though, and quite clearly a machine. For some reason it had the face of a pony. Two orange eyes stared up at Lilium, and then it started to walk around the table.

“What is that?”

“A scale model. Whoever is trying to kill me has soldiers that look like this. And I’ve got a feeling that this ‘whoever’ is also the person commanding the War Stone.”

“That’s not very likely.”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“If the people trying to kill you have access to the War Stone and these things,” she gestured toward the model, “which I’m guess is one-twentieth scale, why not use those? Why bother using the Corporations? They don’t really seem all that competent.”

“One-twenty fifth, and yeah. You’re right. Something’s not right. I’m missing something, something critical. These guys?” She pointed at the model, “they could kill me easily. The War Stone probably could to, but it would be harder. They’ve had plenty of chances. But they didn’t.”

“Is that why you’re linking the two? Because they both didn’t try to kill you? Because that’s pretty terrible logic.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Call it a hunch if you want to. But it’s too much of a coincidence. The War Stone hasn’t been active in almost a century. Then, suddenly, it comes back right as the world is going to shit. Maybe it’s not the same person, but it’s too fucking big of a coincidence. They’re related. I know they are.”

Lilium sighed. “If you say so. But how are these little models supposed to help us?”

“I won’t use the models. I’ll use them full size. Send an army of them, raid a forum or two. When people see them, word will spread. The War Stone will pick up on it. If she really is being controlled by the same organization, she’ll know I’m here. And she’ll come.”

Lilium had grown pale. “Right,” she said softly. She shook her head, trying to regain some level of courage. “Well, that makes sense. And she’ll come here. But maybe she’ll be reasonable. I mean, she was a scientist, right? Maybe she’ll be willing to have a nice, calm, civil conversation.”

A look of terror suddenly crossed Morgana’s face. She controlled it quickly, but to Lilium it was horrifying. “Oh fuck me,” she whispered. “I don’t think that’s going to happen…”

Both Morgana and Lilium turned their heads. As they did so, the encryption faded and the room grew cold. Lilium smelled something like metal and fire, and when the room returned to its normal focus she felt her heart sink as a fear and horror she had never felt before crept into it.

Bodies were strewn everywhere. Everyone that had been dancing lay on the floor, dismembered and bleeding. The music had ceased, and many of the lights came down red through blood-spattered lenses. There was no discrimination: every human, pony, or indeterminate creature had been violently slaughtered and thrown about the room in silence. They laid there in pools of their own entrails, save for one.

A woman stood in the center of the carnage. She was ostensibly human, but far taller and more pale. She was incredibly sickly and thin, but at the same time seemed to radiate dread around her. Lilium could not tell what she was wearing, exactly, but she had a perception that it was white or gray and free of blood. Looking at her made Lilium’s head hurt and her eyes ache; it was as though she could not be perceived completely. In fact, she seemed to exist in the same distorted sense that the disembodied huorn had; it was as if her body itself were a hole that space was falling into.

The woman slowly turned her eyes toward the pair of ponies. They were entirely white, save for a pair of thin black outlines that Lilium supposed were meant to represent her pupils. Her gaunt face was expressionless, but her horrible white eyes were furious.

“You…you killed them.” Lilium felt her fear suddenly become crushing. She had admitted out loud what she already knew: the bodies strewn throughout the club were a representation of what had actually been done to their owners. What was left of their metadata showed it. Humans, ponies, synths- -their bodies were all now lying inert in their homes, devoid of consciousness.

The woman’s eyes shifted toward Lilium. “I brought death.”

“But- -but why?!”

The woman did not move, or even shrug. Without a change in expression, she answered: “Because I wanted to.”

Morgana spoke. Her voice did not waver, but Lilium still felt a tinge of fear in it- -and a hint of perverse excitement. “You saved me the trouble of finding you, Josephine.”

The War Stone’s eyes shifted to Morgana. “My employer told me to watch for you. So I did. They want you to survive. But I think I’d rather kill you now.”

Her body shifted, and Lilium cried out in terror, even though she had no idea what was happening. Morgana moved swiftly, though. The table and booths near them vanished, and a ring of fire sprung up around them. At least, Lilium perceived it as fire- -at first. It quickly condensed into a dome of opaque ruby crystal.

“That was- -that was- -”

“Our timeline just got moved forward,” said Morgana, grabbing Lilium. As she did, the crystal wall in front of them began to disintegrate. The War Stone was walking toward them, completely ignoring the apparent solidity of the protection spell. It disintegrated to dust as she approached it. Now Lilium could see her even more clearly: a gaunt and frail woman who towered above them, dressed in living code and staring with long-dead eyes that only barely masked the horrible and distorted consciousness that swirled behind them. Her expression had only changed slightly. She was now frowning.

At the sight of her, Lilium felt herself freeze. Her legs had locked up; there was nowhere to go. As horrible as her form was, it was only a shell. She could feel what was beneath the projection, and the perception was deafening.

Then she felt a pair of hooves around her, and a familiar sensation of falling and turning. The world vanished around her and began to change. Then she felt her hooves land on cold, frozen ground.