“Doctor Freepony, you may proceed,” Doctor Emerald Brown said into the large microphone in the Clockmaker’s Guild Spectrometer Observation Room. “Please, use the utmost caution.”

The pony in the odd suit below them didn’t respond verbally, but he did push the cart toward the Arcane Spectrometer.

“What’s wrong, Doc?” Sunset asked. “You almost sound nervous.”

“Nervous?” Brown laughed. “Why in Equestria would I be nervous?”

“Well,” Sunset nodded at the massive mechanism beyond the window. “I would be nervous doing anything with that.”

Twilight could barely keep her eyes from the marvel of arcanotech engineering. She’d read all about it. Ponies had been raving about the device in every science journal for the last six months! You couldn’t not know about something as monumental as the first-ever Arcane Spectrometer.

Just seeing the machine gave Twilight goosebumps all over. Brilliant lines of arcing magical energy ran along the sides of the vast room, occasionally grounding themselves on the gleaming assembly of mechanized focusing devices that spun in a vast whirlwind of instruments. The Spectrometer had so many different components it made Twilight’s head spin. All of them rotated around a shielded tower of the brightest metal Twilight had ever seen. It was as if the molten sun had been poured down the central shaft of the Spectrometer, just for her—er, them.

So much magical science and scientific magic had gone into this device. She had sobbed her eyes out when she couldn’t attend the groundbreaking ceremony. She’d required four cupcakes and two new dissertations on the iconography of the deerkin to get her through that horrible day.

But now, Princess Twilight Sparkle was here. For one of the most glorious events in scientific history!

Scientific plebeians might remember this as the day as when a young stallion pushed a cart into a slot at the bottom of a magical microscope. Those who knew the truth, well, they would understand.

“It’s so beautiful,” Twilight whined. She couldn’t stop herself from pawing at the glass a little. She wanted to go in there and hug the gorgeous hunk of metal and magic.

One of the assistants—a Doctor Fly or something—broke Twilight’s worship. “We have a minor power drain from Converter Twenty-Two. I’ve dispatched maintenance.”

“Great Plot!” Brown cried. “Now? Why did it have to be now? Quick! What’s the power drain? I need precise data! Come on! Let’s have it!”

“0.00121 percent,” Doctor Fly reported. Oddly enough, he sounded amused by Brown’s agitation. Twilight didn’t appreciate that in the slightest.

“Seriously?” Sunset asked. “They’re panicking about that?”

Twilight shot her a glare.

“What?” Sunset lifted her hooves and rolled her eyes. “Sorry!”

“Can you correct for it, Doctor Brown?” Twilight’s voice barely carried over the beautiful cacophony of monitors. “Do you need me to go inside and adjust something? I’d be more than happy to!”

Brown shook his head and his frizzy white mane flew about him. “No, no! Adding another pony to the chamber at this juncture would complicate matters geometrically! A minor adjustment to Converter Thirty-Two—it produces an average of twenty-four extra thalms of magical energy compared to the average excess of twenty-one thalms of other units—should do the trick!”

An amber unicorn with glasses standing beside Twilight sighed and walked away, muttering something about unforeseen consequences.

Brown turned a dial. It clicked twice.

“Power draw steady,” Fly announced. “Confirmed stable at one hundred and five percent. Ready to retract particle beam shielding.”

“Doctor Freepony,” Brown called over the speakers. “Prepare for shielding retraction!”

The stallion waved absently. Twilight frowned. It should be her down there in that orange and black suit! But, of course, they didn’t have one fitted for alicorns. Because life hated her. It was the only reasonable explanation, no matter how many times Sunset said differently.

Then, she realized life was a wonderful and fantastic thing filled with amazing sights you couldn’t witness in any other state of being—presumably. Because that’s when Brown retracted the center shield. The accelerators shifted into position and the three cylinders of glowing crystal began to spin above the wonderfully articulated robotic arms—the first ever created by ponykind!

Well, the first used outside the claw machines of pizza parlors.

A brilliant beam of golden fire ripped down the central conduit. The massive array teased, coaxed and focused the energy through the thaumaturgic stabilization beam transistors into the analysis bay.

A tear fell from Twilight’s left cheek as she witnessed what might be the most heart-meltingly stunning sight she’d ever seen.

“All stations, sound off!” Brown called.

Various personnel around the observation room sounded off as they prepared to activate the Spectrometer.

The moment was sacred, perfect, wonderfu—

“You okay there, Twi?”

Twilight should have smacked Sunset for wrecking the moment. She didn’t though, showing remarkable restraint on her part.

“Can you believe we actually get to see this?” Twilight whispered. “The first analysis of a new type of narrativium!”

She had to wipe away another tear.

Sunset snorted softly beside her. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you're totally geeking out.”

“I’m not cute when I’m geeking out!” Twilight snapped.

“You totally are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am—” Twilight took a deep breath. Only a few feet separated the sample from the bay. “You’re trying to sway me. I told you! I’m considering your proposition! You will have your answer at midnight and not a microsecond sooner!”

“That’s another thing,” Sunset said. “Why are you so exact about that?”

“Shush!” Twilight snapped. She dropped her voice to a hiss. “I will decide if I am willing to transition our relationship to the requested state later!”

“Twi, I asked you out on a date,” Sunset said. Twilight knew she was rolling her eyes again, but Sunset did that a great deal. “I’ve been back in Equestria for six months. In your house. We’re best friends. You don’t need to get all super-scientific about it.”

“Right now, I do!”

And then… like placing the final rune in a tenth-level fractal-aligned fourth-dimensional arcane circle, Doctor Freepony slid the narrativium sample into the Arcane Spectrometer.

Twilight didn’t dare look away. She stood there and basked in the glory, listening to the brilliant minds around her as they unleashed ponykind’s most powerful testing apparatus to expand their knowledge of the foundations of creation.

“Power to stage one emitters in three… two… one…”

The spinning crystal cylinders ignited with brilliant orange light.

“I’m seeing predictable phase arrays.”

Energy looped in beautiful patterns around the chamber.

“Stage two emitters activating… now.”

Golden magic fire lashed between the spinning crystals, the multitude of mechanical components and the shining analysis bay.

“It’s so beautiful…” Twilight moaned.

“Uh… it’s probably not a problem… probably… but I’m showing a small discrepancy in… well, no, it’s well within acceptable bounds again. Sustaining sequence.”

The golden fire grew brighter.

“Don’t worry, Doctor Freepony, just another few…”

A brilliant flash of pink dazzled Twilight. When she blinked away the afterimages, the golden light now burned pink. Alarms started screaming.

“Wha-what's he doing in there?”

Freepony seemed to be trying to pull the cart free from the bay.

“We’ve got… oh Harmony… shut it down!”

Bizarre patterns appeared on the walls of the chamber, all in shades of pink. It took a moment for Twilight to process what she saw. The patterns…

No… that’s impossible!

“Shutting down. Attempting shut down. It's not… it's-it's not… it's not shutting down… it's not…”

Twilight couldn’t see Freepony anymore. Arcs of pink ripped into the walls. Lightning tore across the cracking glass of the observation room.

“Twilight, maybe we should—” Sunset began.

“Freepony! Get away from the beams!”

A surge of blinding light finally forced Twilight to look away. The control room was utter chaos. Ponies shouted and screamed. Monitors erupted in showers of pink sparks. Strange music played out of the speakers.

In the middle of it all, Doctor Brown stood transfixed, gaping at the pink chamber containing Doctor Freepony, the narrativium sample and the Arcane Spectrometer.

His eyes went wide. “EVERYPONY! GET DOWN!”

Sunset threw Twilight to the ground as a bolt of pink magic ripped through the observation room glass. Shards the size of Twilight’s hoof were sent flying. A thousand screams filled the air.

The lights went out.

“Twi? You okay?”

Twilight blinked but saw only murky shadows. “Huh?”

“Come on, Twi, I need you on your hooves!” It was Sunset’s voice. She sounded a long way off.

“W-What happened?” Twilight groaned. “I heard… screaming. Fire… magic fire!”

Twilight shot bolt upright, missing Sunset by less than an inch.

Emergency lights—red, because all emergency lights were required by international law to be red, though the jury was still out on if they needed to strobe—lit most of the devastated control room.

Twilight didn’t really want to look around. She didn’t want to see the bodies. With magical backlash of thirty-six Converters, it was a miracle Sunset and Twilight had survived. They would be lucky if anypony else in the room hadn’t been charred to ash.

But, she was a princess. She knew, one day, she’d have to deal with this sort of thing. Wars. Plagues. Famines. Failed science experiments.

She forced herself to look around.

Not a single pony had a mussed mane, save for Doctor Brown, whose mane had already been very mussy.

“Everypony… survived?” Twilight blurted out.

“Yeah,” Sunset said, rubbing soot off her face. “No injuries. Save for Doctor Fly, but Doctor Park already used a healing potion on him. She refuses to leave his side.”

“What… what about Freepony?” Twilight pushed herself to her hooves.

“Waltzed in about a minute ago. Doc Brown told him to go topside to get help and he ran off.”

“He’s alive?!” Twilight stared at Sunset in astonishment. “He should have been vaporized—or sucked into some bizarre dimension with shackled cyclopes or something!”

“He seemed fine.” Sunset shrugged.

“Well….” Twilight rubbed her eyes. “Thank Celestia.”

“Don’t thank her just yet.” Sunset pointed through the shattered glass at the Arcane Spectrometer… and the gaping rip in reality.

Now, Twilight had seen plenty of portals, tears, rips and holes in the space-time continuum. After all, that’s what happened when you were a princess who liked to push the boundaries of magical science: you occasionally broke through. Then the boundaries got annoyed and tried to pull your entire plane of existence into an abyss of fire and darkness, complete with wailing souls

Contrary to popular belief, the horrifying eldritch tentacles only got involved when there was a fast-food restaurant nearby.

But in all her years, she’d never seen one spew out little hearts. Not even when Pinkie had decided to try out matchmaking and that had been a bad day.

A small heart-shaped portal appeared less than a foot away from her. Before she could react, something flew out to land neatly in Twilight’s hooves.

She looked at it. She looked at Sunset. She looked at Brown. She looked at it again. Then Sunset. Then it one more time.

“…a box of chocolates?” Twilight asked as she peeked in the bright pink heart-shaped box. Inside, there was a little piece of paper that read ‘no coconut’ with a little heart drawn next to it.

“Great Plot!” Brown cried. “Not chocolates! Anything but that! Celestia above… forgive us…”

“I’m missing something,” Sunset said.

“If I had to guess?” Twilight said as she lowered the box to the ground. “I think we’re in trouble.

Then she jumped as extremely dramatic thunder crashed behind her.

“The Spectrometer is still engaged!” Brown said, flailing wildly toward the beam of pink magic ripping a heart-shaped hole in reality. “I can’t disengage it from here! Even as we speak, we’re getting reports of more probability disturbances throughout the Guild. We’re going to—”

They turned to the now-familiar sound of a rift opening. A few seconds later, a navy unicorn with a two-toned blue and white mane plopped onto the ground with a yelp.

“Oh, come on!” Minuette cried. “I was just walking up to her front door!”

“Minuette?” Brown looked shocked. “You’re supposed to be sick!”

“Oh, hey Doc…” Minuette got to her hooves and blushed. “It was less sick and more… a personal matter?”

Another rift opened. Twilight yanked Minuette away just in time to spare her from Moondancer dropping on her head.

“Ow!” Moondancer groaned, rubbing her flank. “What in Equestria… Twilight? Minuette? What’s going on here? Where am I?”

For some reason, Minuette blushed even harder. Then a bouquet of roses appeared out of nowhere and landed in her hooves. She squealed and flung it away like it was a poisonous snake.

“This is getting completely out of hoof!” Brown shouted. “If the distortions are starting to transport ponies from beyond the Guild, I fear the probability matrices now contain the entirety of Canterlot Mountain!”

“Slow down, Doc,” Sunset said. “What’s going on?”

“The rift!” Brown stabbed a hoof toward the Spectrometer Chamber. “Scans show not even a single molecule of narrativium remaining within the chamber! That must mean it created…”

A bolt of pink lighting arced from the rift to a panel right behind Brown. He didn’t seem to notice, despite the deafening thunder.

“…a Narrative Cascade.”

Minuette gasped. So did several nearby scientists. Sunset and Moondancer looked nonplussed.

Twilight shivered. She’d read the theory behind such events. Most of them involved unspeakable horrors.

She’d even experienced one or two. After all, she was friends with Pinkie Pie.

“Doctor Brown,” Twilight said slowly. “What color was the narrativium?”

Brown winced. That alone gave Twilight the answer she feared.

“As pink as a Hearts and Hooves Day Card,” he whispered.

Another bolt of lightning shot through the air, striking exactly where it had a moment ago. Thunder rolled across them again.

“Did someone put a grounding rod there or something?” Sunset asked.

“No,” Twilight slumped to her haunches and rubbed her face. “No, it’s something far worse. This isn’t normal narrativium we’re talking about. The pink variant of the mineral…”

“Okay, somepony better start making sense,” Moondancer said flatly, adjusting her glasses. “Or I’m going to get annoyed.”

“There’s another term for it,” Minuette said. “But we were assured a Love Cascade couldn’t happen!”

Brown opened his mouth to say something, but Sunset cut him off. “Wait, a Love Cascade?”

Behind them, somepony let out a squeak of surprise when an adorable teddy bear landed in their lap.

“Every schoolpony knows narrativium is the most common element in the world,” Twilight explained. “Without it, life couldn’t exist!”

“That’s basic geology.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “Twilight, you’re starting to sound like a bad science fiction novel.”

Twilight gritted her teeth and forced herself to stop a sudden compulsion to launch into exposition. But in the end, Moondancer and Sunset had to know. There was no helping it.

“Standard narrativium governs the laws of probability to allow life to exist—and, most importantly—remain interesting.” Twilight lit her horn and the molecular structure for narrativium appeared. Twilight found some small comfort in the book-shaped molecule. “But, other forms do exist. One of the most dangerous is pink narrativium.”

Another arc of lightning ripped through the observation room, but this time, it grounded itself behind Twilight.

Sunset snickered.

Twilight turned to stare at Brown. “That’s what you were experimenting with, wasn’t it? Not only that, but it was a pure sample!”

Doctor Brown hung his head in shame. He looked ready to cry, but Twilight couldn’t show him sympathy. It was too dangerous. If she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself in the horrors of the narrative.

“And pink narrativium is…?” Moondancer prompted.

Twilight lit her horn again and the structure of the accursed substance appeared.

“A heart? Its molecular structure is in the shape of a heart?!” Moondancer cried as Sunset fell over laughing. “That defies the very foundations of particle physics!”

“This has nothing to do with physics!” Twilight shouted, shoving herself in Moondancer’s face. “This is about… the narrative.”

Moondancer’s eyes went wide with understanding. It was a beautiful sight. Twilight did so love imparting knowledge to others… and Moondancer did have a cru—

Minuette yanked Twilight back by her tail and gave her a stern glare.

Twilight winced and rubbed her head. “Sorry…”

Minuette raised an eyebrow.

“This entire area is going to be overtaken by the Cascade,” Twilight said, not meeting Minuette’s gaze. “We need to evacuate immediately.”

“Okay, stupid question?” Sunset said. “But… why can’t we just, I don’t know, shut it off?”

“We… we can’t,” Brown muttered.

“Yeah, but why?”

Doctor Brown’s ears folded back. “The off button is gone.”

“No!” Minuette squeaked, her hooves flying to her muzzle. “It can’t be that bad!”

Brown gestured at the main control panel. Twilight had seen it before the experiment, of course. It had been simple enough. One giant green button for ‘On.’ One giant red button for ‘Off.’

The button for ‘Off’ had disappeared entirely, as if it had never existed.

“Oh come on!” Sunset shouted. “This is insane!”

“Where did it go?” Minuette asked. “Did it affect the schematics?”

Brown nodded his head glumly. “I already looked.”

“And?” Moondancer asked.

“Tallest room in the highest tower of Canterlot Castle.”

Nopony in their group said anything. There didn’t seem anything to say to that little proclamation. In fact, only the sound of Doctor Fly and Doctor Park making out in the corner interrupted the silence. That and the soft jazz coming from the massive rift in reality.

“We have to get to that off switch!” Twilight said, stomping her hoof on the ground—and accidentally crushing a beautiful red rose. “It’s our only hope!”

“How do we know it’ll even work?” Moondancer demanded. “Because it sounds like you’re telling me that reality changed when this thing went off!”

“Because…” Twilight gritted her teeth against a sudden wind flowing through her mane. A light overhead flickered on, bathing her in a golden glow. “It wouldn’t be a good narrative if the heroes couldn’t hit the button at the last second.”

Moondancer stared at her. “Seriously?”

“She’s right.” Minuette nodded. “That’s how it works. That’s how it always works.”

“Could we send a message…” Moondancer tried.

“Communications are out,” Brown said. “The rift is disrupting any sending spells. Nothing short of dragonfire would get through.”

Sunset snickered even harder. “Oh Celestia, this is rich.”

“This is no laughing matter!” Twilight snapped.

“Twi, you just had wind rushing through your mane as you were speared from a light from the heavens just so you could make your grand declaration. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Even Pinkie would have trouble topping this.”

“Pinkie…” Brown scratched his head and turned to Minuette. “Is that…”

“Subject Zero.” Minuette nodded. “Don’t worry. As far as I know, she’s still in Ponyville.”

“Great Plot! I hope that’s far enough. If the Cascade interacts with Subject Zero… there’s no telling what the consequences could be!”

Moondancer lifted a hoof as if she had a question, then she groaned and rolled her eyes. “Nevermind. I don’t even care anymore.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. “We all have to go. Doctor, make sure your ponies are all heading topside…” She glanced at the intertwined forms of Fly and Park. “At least those who can.”

“You know, we might want to take a moment of silence for the fallen,” Sunset deadpanned.

Twilight cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sorry, we can’t do that. It’s hard to have a moment of silence for the fallen when the only sound in the room is said fallen making out.”

“Fine.” Sunset sighed dramatically. “We’ll have the moment after. But you owe me a drink.”

Twilight glared at her. Sunset beamed.

“The evacuation is already underway,” Brown declared. “I’m coming with you.”

“I’m not sure you can keep pace, Doctor...” Twilight began.

“You need my expertise!” Brown shot back. “While Minuette happens to be one of my best researchers—”

“Convenient,” Moondancer muttered.

“—only I have the right security access to everything within the Guild. We must do this together!”

“Very well,” Twilight grunted. “But since I’m the one who’s fought extra-dimensional evil, chaos gods and superpowered baby alicorns… I’m in charge. Got that?”

Brown nodded. “Agreed.”

“Minuette, Moondancer?” Twilight said, turning to her two friends. “The Cascade wouldn’t have brought the two of you if you weren’t needed.”

“Of course, Twilight,” Minuette said with a chipper smile.

“I don’t suppose I have a choice?” A box of chocolates bounced off Moondancer’s head. “I’ll take that as a no. Let’s go.”

Twilight didn’t bother asking Sunset. She already knew the answer.

Sunset winked at her.

Why did you have to ask me out today? Twilight moaned to herself. If I don’t stop this soon, I’ll never be single again! Nopony in Canterlot will!

Special effects provided by Isaac Kleiner and Eli Vance in association with the Brown Foundation.

“Great Plot! I’ve got it!”

Thankfully, Doctor Brown’s security access still worked on the main door separating the laboratories from the rest of the Clockmaker’s Guild. Twilight had been briefly confused on why the seniormost scientist’s access codes wouldn’t work for a simple door, but Minuette had explained the potential danger with two words.

“Dramatic irony.”

The entire group had shivered horribly when she’d said that.

When they reached the main floor of the Clockmaker’s Guild, chaos reigned in a way that would have made Discord bright purple with envy. After all, he’d once told Twilight turning green with envy was far too passé for him.

“We have to get to the trams!” Twilight shouted over the incessant sound of warping heartrifts, laughing and ponies madly in love. “It’s our only way out of here!”

Brown brought up a magical monitoring spell linked to the Spectrometer’s sensors. It terrified Twilight the Cascade allowed that communication spell to work but nothing else.

Despite their success at the door, it could only be for one reason: dramatic tension.

She didn’t share this revelation with the others. She didn’t want to worry them. And she suspected Brown already knew.

The clockwork spires of the Guild sparked and flared with pink magic. Each of the waterwheels spun like mad, the power of twelve waterfalls now being funneled into the Prime Heart Rift.

They galloped through a corridor suddenly overgrown with delicate strands of ivy and glowing Moon Lanterns, complete with wrought-iron benches interspersed at regular intervals. They ran by at least twelve couples, all having quiet, intimate conversations, lost in one another’s eyes. Twilight spotted two copies of How to Pick Up Mares: A Reference Guide.

She knew the book in passing, of course. It’s not like she’d decided to read it for its practical applications. It had been simply general-purpose research. Short research, since the entire text of the book had been, ‘Give that mare some hay, fillies love hay.’ And while that was true, it hadn’t been especially insightful.

Twilight almost slipped on a stray champagne bottle as she scampered toward the departure station. Only one tram remained. Twilight watched as another large metal tram picked up speed beneath the enormous track. A few moments later, it switched tracks and sped into the dark tunnels beneath Canterlot.

The group ran past some stallion holding up a boombox, shouting something to somepony glaring at them through a second-story window.

Even as ponies scrambled onto the last tram, Twilight didn’t dare teleport. There was no telling what the disrupted narrativium field would do to a teleport spell. She had already warned Sunset. Sadly, she couldn’t warn the entire city.

Oh well, if anypony powerful enough to teleport appeared in a suspiciously romantic situation, they should be smart enough to get out of it. If they weren’t, they shouldn’t be messing around with teleportation in the first place.

They had to make a detour through a small lab due to a collapsed clocktower spire. Once they emerged, Twilight wasn’t very surprised to find the tram had left without them.

Twilight tried to leap into the air to force the tram back to the station. She promptly fell flat on her face. Twilight stood and stared at her wings. They were still there, of course. They were even outstretched, but no matter how hard she flapped, she didn’t rise even an inch.

“Don’t bother, my dear,” Brown said with a frown as he hurried up beside her and stared the departing tram. “Only those born with wings could fly in this sort of probability field.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Moondancer said.

Sunset narrowly avoided a lampshade falling from the sky. She kicked it away with a snicker.

They whirled at the sound of galloping hooves coming from behind them.

“Clear?!” Brown gasped as he ran forward to meet the newcomer. “You’re supposed to be topside seeing Dean Polish!”

“I… I got back early, Emerald,” Clear said as she staggered into Brown’s hooves. “Just in time to get caught up in all of this…”

Minuette’s eyes met Twilight’s and she suddenly had a very bad feeling.

“Who’s this?” Sunset interjected.

“This is… uh… Professor Clear Clay,” Brown said.

Professor Clear gave them all a little curtsey. She had a short brown mane with a single braid on the right side that complimented her light tan coat. She’d pinned a purple flower to her lab coat, held in place by a small silver clasp with a name stamped on it.

“I’m… uh… Doctor Brown’s… uh…”

“Old lover?” Sunset quipped.

Brown and Clear went red and refused to look at one another.

Sunset skipped the snicker and went straight to sniggering.

Twilight facehoofed, composed herself and glared at the vanishing tram. “I don’t suppose there’s another way out of here?”

“There’s the emergency access tunnels,” Minuette said.

Brown shook his head. “It would take a minimum of three hours and twenty-six minutes to reach the surface from this level if we took that route.”

“We could always use the maintenance trolley,” Clear said in a quiet whisper. “Engineer Spark showed them to me this morning.”

“Also oddly specific,” Moondancer said.

A lampshade landed on Minuette’s head. She sputtered for a little bit before Sunset went over to help her pull it off.

Moondancer didn’t seem to notice. “And before the Cascade. Unless it’s altering time… how is that possible?”

“This isn’t the time to talk about time! We don’t have time!” Twilight snapped.

Sunset cracked up as she threw the lampshade away. “Seriously, Twi?”

Twilight ignored her and turned to Clear. “What’s this about a trolley?”

“Oh, Spark told me the passcode,” Clear said as she stepped up to a control panel between the tram bays. “Just a moment…”

Less than a minute later, a metal box had emerged from a hidden underground compartment. Mechanical servos whirred and attached the trolley—which looked a lot like a miniature version of the trams—to the overhead track. The metal scissor gate rattled open.

“Anypony else suspicious that it just happens to hold six ponies?” Moondancer asked.

“It’s always been like that,” Minuette replied. “Track maintenance isn’t usually a huge job.”

Moondancer blinked. “Oh.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Sunset said. “Let’s go!”

“The trolley needs to be powered on this side though!” Clear said. “I mean, a pony could flip the switch and then leap through but—”

“Seriously?” Twilight facehoofed. “This is insane. Everypony on, now!”

“But Twilight—” Sunset and Minuette said at the same time.

“No buts!” Twilight shouted. “In! Now!”

Twilight ushered and/or shoved everypony into the trolley as fast as she could. She ran to the control panel, glared at it, flipped the switch and galloped for the trolley.

Everypony groaned when the scissor gate slammed shut in Twilight’s face.

“Stupid plot twists,” Twilight growled.

“Twilight!” Sunset flared her magic and zapped the lock, but the spell backfired and sent her flying into Minuette and Moondancer.

“It’s okay! I’ll keep up with you!” Twilight leapt into the air and promptly crashed back down… again. “Right.”

“Dammit, Brown!” Moondancer shouted. “Get this door open! We can’t just leave her here!”

Brown, Minuette, Clear, Moondancer and a still-smoldering Sunset stared at the door. Then, with a loud thunk, the trolley slid out over open space and started picking up speed.

“Dammit!” Sunset shouted. “I’m not leaving her!”

“Sunset, don’t!” Twilight called.

Twilight watched as everypony in the trolley tried to get clear, then Sunset unleashed a bolt of unbridled magical fury at one of the trolley walls. To Twilight’s horror, Sunset’s red magic had changed to pink.

The entire side of the trolley exploded. Minuette and Clear screamed as it swayed precariously. Twilight should have yelled at Sunset for doing something so stupidly reckless. However, since the trolley was already just beyond her jumping range… she didn’t have time.

Twilight leapt anyway. She’d read enough romance stories. She knew how this would work.

Sure enough, Sunset’s hoof caught her own just before she plummeted fifty feet to the ground below.

Minuette and Moondancer helped pull Twilight to her hooves. Twilight took a deep breath and shot Sunset a glare.

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” she shouted. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m not leaving you behind to that insanity!” Sunset shot back, stomping forward. “We both know this is already affecting ponies’ minds Twilight! I’m a freaking empath! Do you have any idea what the narrativium field is doing to me?”

Sunset’s voice broke and she let out a choked cry.

Twilight held a hoof to her mouth as actual tears started to fall from her eyes, splashing against the metal grill in a soft patter heard by everypony in the trolley even above the chaos of shipping delirium below. The trolley rose up a steep incline and linked up to the main track.

“I couldn’t leave you like that…” Sunset sniffled, trying vainly to wipe away her tears. “I couldn’t… When we came back… you… I couldn’t bear to…”

Twilight grabbed Sunset and held her tight, allowing her friend’s tears to darken her soft coat. Sunset melted into the embrace as a single desperate sob bubbled up from within her.

“I’m fine,” Twilight whispered. “We’re both fine… We’re… all…”

Sunset pulled away. They were less than an inch apart. They were all but kissing already. Twilight stared into the teary, teal eyes of her best friend… one she had pulled from a crater after becoming a demon, only to become something wonderful in such a short time...

Twilight’s head leaned forward, her heart moved by Sunset’s heartbreaking concern. She had never known Sunset could be so worried about her. She hadn’t known until today that—

Twilight jerked back and shoved Sunset away from her.

“What… what the…” Sunset stumbled and landed flat on her back. Twilight almost went out the still-smoldering hole. “What was that for?”

“The narrative!” Twilight spat, furious. She glared at the very air itself. “Celestia on a pogo stick! It’s getting stronger with each passing second!”

Sunset sat up and shook her head. “You’re… you’re right. I’ve got to… give me a second.”

Without warning, she got up, marched over to Minuette, lit her horn and tapped her on the shoulder. Sunset’s eyes went white for an instant before she blinked at the effect faded.

“Okay, I think I’m good now. As long as I don’t get too close to Moondancer.”

“Wait… what?” Moondancer asked, confused.

Minuette tried to hide behind her mane.

Sunset rubbed her temples and took three deep breaths that totally didn’t emphasize her incredibly curvaceous, sleek and well-toned body.

“Gah!” Twilight marched over and slammed her head into one of the three remaining walls a few times. Thankfully, the agony of crashing her skull against the metal quickly drowned out the narrative’s influence.

Finally, she pulled herself away, took a deep breath, did several complex mathematical calculations in her head—along with listing the imports and exports between the griffons and the zebras—and turned around.

“Should I ask what just happened?” Minuette blinked a few times.

“Best if you don’t,” Sunset replied.

“If you say so.”

“Okay. Where are we at?” Twilight asked.

Brown already had the monitor spell up.

“That’s not good,” Minuette said as she looked it over.

“I estimate twenty-nine minutes to reach the surface,” Brown said.

Twilight blinked. “But… it only took us ten minutes on our way in.”

Brown nodded slowly.

“Narrative.”

Brown nodded again. Behind him, a rose fell into Minuette’s hair.

“We’re not going to make it, are we?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t see—” Minuette began.

“I can fix that!” Brown declared suddenly and grinned at Clear. “Correction! We can fix that!”

“What do you have for us, Emerald?” Clear said in her soft voice.

Brown seemed to lose track of the world in the depths of Clear’s bright green eyes.

“Doctor Brown?” Twilight coughed. “You said you had a way we could speed this up?”

“Huh?” Brown blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by googolplexes.”

“More like googly eyes,” Minuette whispered to Moondancer, who just groaned. Neither Brown nor Clear seemed to notice… probably because of googolplexes and googly eyes.

“The trolley, Doctor!” Twilight’s horn sparked with annoyance. She pointedly ignored the bright pink tint to her normally magenta magic. “We need to get to the surface!”

“Oh!” Brown managed to tear his gaze from Clear. “Yes… a direct… a direct application of magic to the motor mechanism will induce a substantial increase of motion!”

“If you haven’t noticed,” Sunset said, pointing to the chaos below. “Magic’s going a little haywire right now.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much else in the way of options,” Clear said, her voice sounding different than it had moments before. “We have very little time according to Emerald’s spell.”

Somehow, Clear sounded younger. Twilight could have sworn her mane looked darker than it had when she’d first arrived. Thankfully, Brown looked as wild-haired as he normally did… though did his mane appeared more blond than white now?

This is bad. Really, really bad!

“What’s the spell?” Twilight demanded.

“Twilight—” Sunset protested, her eyes wide.

“We don’t have time for any other options!” Twilight cried. “We’ll all do it!”

“I’m sure this will go great.” Moondancer sighed.

“Don’t worry, Moonie!” Minuette said with a far-too-happy grin. “Worst-case scenario, we—”

“Blow the trolley off the track and send us plummeting to certain death?” Moondancer interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

Minuette’s smile didn’t even flicker. “I’m sure we’d get a last-second save.”

It was at this point it occurred to Twilight death was often used as a narrative device in some types of romance. Usually to make the final cumulation of the plot resolve itself in particularly dramatic manner.

Or occasionally, just for kicks.

I really hope we’re not in that kind of narrative.

Brown described the spell and the procedure. It was about as dangerous as Twilight expected. They had a fifty-fifty chance at blowing themselves up.

Twilight swallowed as they positioned themselves in a circle around the large motor pulling the trolley along the track. Brown and Clear were closest to the missing wall. That concerned Twilight, but somepony had to be on that side. Anyway, Brown had insisted for ‘optimal alignment of cross-magical leybeams.’

Twilight was beginning to suspect Doctor Brown enjoyed making up terminology. Or he had a desperate need to embellish simple quantum magics phrasing to sound more intelligent.

“Now!” he cried.

All six ignited their horns and blasted the motor with their magic. As were most things in high-magic facilities, the mechanical innards of the motor were heavily shielded. It took several long seconds for their power to get through.

The calculations were simple. Twilight had checked them herself. Sadly, as pink magic started to swirl around the motor, Twilight determined she had not properly calculated for the disrupted magic caused by the narrativium rifts.

Such as the one that opened above the motor.

Uncooked rice rained down on all of them.

No one seemed particularly surprised when the trolley suddenly shot forward at ten times its normal speed. Startled, perhaps. But not really surprised.

The trolley zoomed around a bend in the track.

Twilight wasn’t particularly surprised when Clear Clay stumbled and toppled out of sight through the massive hole in the trolley side. Concerned, perhaps. But not really surprised.

Brown screamed and dove after her. Twilight lunged forward, wondering if this would be one of those Heroic Scenes or Tragic Scenes. Considering how Brown clutched Clear, who was now dangling several hundred feet above the Clockmaker’s Guild, Twilight thought it was even odds.

Sunset, Minuette and Moondancer rushed to her side. All of them grabbed Brown’s hindlegs just as he started to slide. Sunset tried to cast a spell to levitate all of them up, but yelped when her magic popped like an overinflated balloon. She shared a look with Twilight.

“I really hate stupid plot twists!” Sunset shouted over the roaring wind.

“You and me both!”

To Twilight’s surprise, Clear wasn’t screaming. Neither was Brown. In fact, they were just staring into each other’s eyes.

Oh, for Celestia’s sake…

“They’re slipping!” Minuette shouted.

Despite the efforts of all four of them, within a few seconds, Brown and Clear were dangling from the edge of the speeding trolley. They had seconds before they plummeted to their deaths.

“Hi guys!”

Twilight, Sunset, Moondancer and Minuette all glanced up.

“Let’s just be honest here, girls,” Sunset said, completely nonplussed. “We’re talking about a disruption in Equestria’s natural narrativium field. Is there any possible way that she couldn’t have shown up?”

“Nope.”

“Not really.”

“No way.”

Pinkie Pie waved at them, riding on the back of the Hippogriff Princess Skystar, who waved in an equally cheerful manner. “My Pinkie Sense told me there was going to be the dooziest doozy there ever was down here, so Skystar and I cut our twenty-eighth date short to come and see what was up!”

“Of course you did.” Twilight facehoofed. Sunset was right. It was impossible for Pinkie to not be here.

Just then, the tram’s speakers—used to welcome guests to the Clockmaker’s Guild—started blaring out dramatic music. It had a lot of trumpets.

“I hate today,” Twilight muttered.

“I’m losing my grip!” Minuette cried.

The trolley took a hard right. Twilight didn’t even catch whatever insane maneuver Skystar pulled off to stay beside them, but it had Pinkie squealing with joy to the point where she gave her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. Skystar giggled.

“Dammit Pinkie!” Twilight shouted. “Would you please help them already?!”

“Oh! Right! Hi-ho Skystar! Away!”

Skystar laughed, reared in midair—which should have been impossible—and darted downward as all four lost their grip.

Doctor Brown and Professor Clear dropped like bricks. Clear did at least have the decency to scream as Brown clutched her in his hooves.

Despite the trolley’s speed, Twilight had no trouble making out the streak of pink and yellow tearing over the Guild like a comet, leaving a stream of bubbles behind them. Twilight rolled her eyes, but still found herself biting her lip.

Skystar put on an extra burst of speed. Brown and Clear were less than a hundred feet from slamming into the bedrock.

The music suddenly began to reach its crescendo and tension filled the tram like a living thing.

The narrativium disruption reached critical mass around the hippogriff and the earth pony. The sound barrier exploded with a heart-shaped shockwave of yellow and pink. It was blinding, but Twilight couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

“Gotcha!” Skystar cried, even though they were far too distant to hear her voice.

Pinkie and Skystar caught Brown and Clear with a mere ten feet to spare and swooped back up to meet them.

Sunset collapsed to her haunches and Minuette fell into Moondancer’s hooves, trembling with nerves.

Twilight looked at Sunset and raised an eyebrow. “Sonic Loveboom?”

Sunset shrugged. “Why not?”

“Should I ask how Skystar can carry all three of them?” Moondancer asked.

“Plot,” Sunset said with a sigh.

“Hey!” Pinkie shouted as they flew up alongside the trolley. “No talking about my girlfriend’s plot!”

Brown cradled Clear in his hooves. They were already in a passionate kiss, oblivious to the entire world.

“Welp, they’re out,” Moondancer commented as she shoved Minuette off of her.

Minuette pouted heavily, but Moondancer didn’t seem to notice. After a few seconds, Minuette gave up the pouting. “Hey, at least they got us on this trolley! And through a door or two!”

“So,” Twilight said, rubbing her forehead. “They played their role in the plot, and now they’re done?”

“Looks like it,” Sunset said.

Twilight growled at nothing and everything.

“Minuette, Twilight?” Moondancer said. “I hope you know where we’re supposed to go.”

“Yeah. I do.” Twilight said. “Still, without Brown, there’s no way to monitor the rift. Pinkie, get them somewhere safe and then the two of you get out of Canterlot!”

“Awww… but we want to do more super dramatic rescues!” Pinkie pouted.

“Now Pinkie!” Twilight shouted.

Sunset’s hoof landed on Twilight’s shoulder. “If they can actually fly, we may need them. They can help evacuate the facility.”

“They won’t be fast enough!” Twilight snapped, whirling on Sunset. “You don’t get it! Without Brown, I don’t know if we can stop this!”

“Of course we can,” Sunset laughed.

“And what makes you so confident?”

“Dramatic tension, of course!”

“Ugh, I hate romance plots,” Twilight moaned.

“So, about my question this morning…”

“I’m not answering that until after this whole mess is over!”

“Aww… fine.”

Music by Alan Silvestri.

"So, as far as I can tell, I'm the snarky love interest.” Sunset ignored Twilight’s groan. “Moondancer's the grump who's probably secretly a powerhouse. And Minuette's the lovestruck—err, I mean—she’s the plucky insider who will probably get a super dramatic moment.”

“And me?” Twilight demanded as they slipped through the Hall of History on the west side of the castle.

“You? You're the classic straight mare.”

Twilight stopped and stared at her.

“Oh, don't worry. I doubt we'll get through this with you remaining the straight mare.”

“I hate you. So much.”

Sunset beamed at her.

Sunset’s probably right. Well, on everything except how I feel about her. Obviously. Still, I have no intention of telling her. She’d be insufferable. Well, more insufferable.

Twilight glared at her.

Sunset chuckled. Despite her breakdown in the trolley, she looked to be having the time of her life. Meanwhile, Moondancer didn’t seem to care and Minuette kept shooting glances at Moondancer. A part of Twilight wished Moondancer would just kiss the poor lovestruck mare. Moondancer couldn’t be that blind!

Then again, that would almost certainly result in them being down two more ponies.

Despite Minuette’s untimely infatuation, the Cascade seemed to have little effect on her. Twilight had a few hypotheses as to why, but she kept them to herself. They didn’t need the complication.

Once they’d reached the surface, they’d stashed Doctor Brown and Doctor Clear in a broom closet and struck out for the castle. Pinkie and Skystar had disappeared to… somewhere. Twilight had long ago given up on trying to keep track of that mare.

She had been troubled by how they hadn’t been challenged—or even waylaid—en route to the castle. In fact, it was downright suspicious. She’d almost mentioned how it’d been too easy, but stopped herself just in time.

Now, they were slinking through the castle corridors, trying to avoid being seen by anypony—or worse, seeing things they didn’t want to see.

For example, she definitely didn’t want to see Professor Apple Polish hitting on Professor Inkwell. Why were they even here?

“How much time do you think we have left?” Sunset whispered in a voice that warmed Twilight in all the right spots, despite her earlier comments. Twilight beat back the magically-induced hormones with a stick. It was a metaphorical stick, of course, but it was a very large metaphorical stick.

“Enough,” Twilight muttered as they reached one of the smaller libraries on the second floor. If Twilight remembered correctly, there was a secret passage in here that led to some quiet—and more importantly, discreet—stairs.

Twilight pushed open the door and sucked in a breath.

Index Card, the Castle’s West Librarian, sat at her desk, tears streaming down her glistening cheeks. She looked far younger than she had this morning and wore a dress billowing in an impossible wind. Beside her, the athletic Felt Pen—in an equally billowy dress—comforted the mare by kissing the tears away.

The only really odd part about the scene—aside from the fact that it was happening at all—was the strange fuzziness both mares had around them. It was almost as if—

“Even light is being manipulated?” Moondancer cried as she adjusted her glasses and stared at the new couple. “That’s a soft-focus effect!”

Minuette whirled. “How do you know what a soft-focus effect is?”

Twilight and Sunset turned to face the suddenly beet-red Moondancer. “I… I just do, okay?”

“Which series?” Twilight demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moondancer shouted, backing away.

“Look!” Twilight snapped. “If you don’t tell us what romance series you’ve been reading, it’ll come out at the worst possible time! You know it! I know it! We can’t give the Cascade any more openings! It’s too much of a risk!”

Of course, Moondancer knew the risks. She would. Moondancer was brilliant. She had a mind like greased lightning with depths that would make an ocean envious. She was almost as brilliant as Twilight or Sunset. What would it be like to have a late-night study session with the two most intelligent mares in all Equestria?

The briefest of images flashed in her mind’s eye. Moondancer and Sunset Shimmer… together with… Twilight… surrounded by… enormous stacks of books—

Twilight slapped herself across the face.

“Now!” she barked, ignoring her rigid wings.

Sunset snickered and poked them.

“Mares of Memory,” Moondancer muttered.

Minuette squealed. “Oh my goodness! I love that series!”

“Why am I not surprised?” Moondancer groaned. “Twilight, you promised a secret passage! Let’s get to it!”

“We’re looking for a ledger of food shipments between Fillydelphia and Canterlot from the Mid-Fourth Century!” Twilight said. “Split up and look around! And stay away from one another!”

Sunset poked her wing again. Twilight slapped Sunset with the wing.

They left the oblivious Index Card and Felt Pen alone and fanned out.

Within seconds, Twilight knew they were doomed. The Cascade had filled every shelf with racy romance novels—most of them barding rippers.

Not that she had any familiarity with barding rippers, of course. No matter what a particular library’s records might indicate. No matter the implications of a sudden subpoena of all checkout records of one T. Sparkle to the Princess of Friendship’s Office. Or the implications of said records getting mysteriously lost in transit over the Everfree Forest.

Or the implications of the mysterious spontaneous combustion of said records on the way down.

Completely irrelevant. All of it.

She shoved those thoughts into the back of her head. The back of her head put up a ‘No Vacancy’ sign. She ignored it and shoved it in anyway.

Would Celestia or Luna be affected by the Cascade? Were they fighting it? Twilight wondered. Could they even fight it?

That, of course, led to other thoughts. It only seemed appropriate as she searched the ‘Hot for Teacher’ section, which did absolutely nothing to banish the (mostly) unwanted images from her mind.

She’d given up on getting her wings to fold. There just didn’t seem to be a point anymore.

Then, at the very end of the row, she saw it.

All Canterlot Archives maintained strict quality control standards. Books found to be in violation of said standards would be removed with extreme prejudice, banished to where all bad books go in the end…

The free shelves.

When Twilight had first seen this book, she had shrieked so loud, Index Card had complained about ringing in her ears for three weeks.

Then, Celestia had told her the truth.

After that, Twilight made sure to glare at the stupid little book and its uneven lettering, shoddy spine and ratty jacket, not to mention nonstandard book cover size. The offending book may be necessary, but she still reviled it on a deeply spiritual level. Her librarian’s soul loathed it.

And now, all of Canterlot depended on it.

She approached the book cautiously, only to feel something soft and delicate beneath her hooves. She closed her eyes and glanced down, only for her worst fears to be realized.

Twilight stood upon a carpet of rose petals. Red rose petals. She glanced at a small table to her right, only to see it lit by red firefly lanterns. She risked a glance to her left, only to see an enormous poster for the latest Nightfall book.

One that showed all three of the main characters in… rather… inappropriate poses for a… uh…

Twilight swallowed and fanned herself. What was I doing again?

The book, you idiot! the sane part of her screamed even as another part of her was impressed by the concept that a poster for a romance book could actually be inappropriate.

By the time she turned back, thin gauzy curtains of red and violet hung over each window, giving the library an almost sultry feeling. Portals weren’t even manifesting anymore. Things were just being changed as narrativium waves born of the Cascade washed over the castle.

Twilight gritted her teeth and moved toward the book, yet her mind kept wandering. Specifically toward Sunset. Twilight had only said she’d think about it because she didn’t want to rush headlong into a passionate romance with one of her best friends. After all, her other best friends were as suited to an intimate, romantic relationship as Sunset!

Granted, Sunset was the one who’d asked. And she was gorgeous. And talented. And practically Celestia’s daughter. And the only pony who could keep up with her regarding everything from transdimensional wavelength theories to quantum magic amplification rituals. And… she was as hot as the sun itself…

Then again, did she really have to choose between Sunset and her friends? Why should she bother with such outdated thoughts as exclusivity? After all, Twilight was the Princess of Friendship. They had the same friends now.

Maybe Sunset and Twilight could start a new trend. Maybe she should bring the rest of them and—

Twilight slapped herself again. This time, it hurt a lot more.

Must… keep… going…

Twilight forced herself to move toward the book. It didn’t even have a proper Starswirl Decimal System label, which offended her on the deepest of spiritual levels. Still, it remained the solution to all of her problems. She had to get it, even if the waves of disrupted narrative pouring through it were warping her mind and constantly dragging her back to Sunset’s sultry smile…

She just casually asked me out to dinner! It’s not like she propositioned me holding a red rose in her teeth in one of those flimsy nighties that left nothing to the imagination. That would be… uh… absurd…

The example was poorly chosen, as now Twilight could not remove the image from her mind.

Twilight lunged forward and grabbed for the book. The moment her hoof touched it, a wave of weakness rushed through her and she collapsed against the bookshelf with a sigh. The book fell and landed open with a snap. Something bright pink burst out of it and slipped away before Twilight could react.

A few seconds later, she heard Sunset’s cry of shock.

“Oh Celestia…” Twilight moaned. “What now?”

Sunset stepped around the corner and Twilight’s breath caught. If her wings flared any harder, they might burst from her back. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

A soft pink light fell upon Sunset, as if Celestia herself had blessed her for this very moment. A violently dark red rose lay nestled in the crook of her ear. Her hair fell in ringlets all around her face, coursing down her back and over the shoulders of her glittering emerald green gown. Every motion was languid, every sway hypnotic, every blink an invitation.

Sunset’s eyes burned with teal fire, eager to ignite, eager to consume. Twilight wanted nothing more than to throw herself into those flames and burn forever.

Sunset slowly sauntered up to her, her lips luscious, pink and so very kissable. She reached out a hoof to gently caress Twilight’s face as music began to play from a nearby radio.

A brief flutter of thought passed through Twilight’s barely-functioning brain. Something stupid about an emergency.

Meh, Twilight thought dizzily. Celestia can get this one… she needs to pull her weight for once.

Sunset caressed Twilight’s cheek again, then slowly slipped a hoof behind Twilight’s head.

Twilight leaned forward, unable to resist the sheer beauty of the stunning unicorn before her.

Then, Sunset whacked her upside the head with enough force to give her whiplash.

“Ow!” Twilight yelped. “What the hell, Sunset?!”

“Seriously?” Sunset cocked an eyebrow. “The music was a dead giveaway.”

Sunset pointed to a small radio on the table. A stupid and sappy love ballad drifted from the speakers.

The light had vanished, but Sunset’s new hairstyle, the rose and the dress were still there. Sunset cocked her head at Twilight. “You look confused.”

“I thought you wanted me,” Twilight said—and she did not sound pouty whatsoever.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sunset said with that damn smirk that Twilight hated so much. “I will get a yes out of you, but I’m pretty sure I can get you without a Narrative Cascade going on. Takes all the challenge out of it! Nah. Not my style.”

“How are you completely unaffected by this?” Twilight demanded as she snatched up the book and tried to glare Sunset into embarrassment. When that didn’t work, she ran to the west wall.

“Better question?” Sunset said, following her. “Why are you so easily affected by it?”

“I’ve been fighting nonstop! You’ve seen me! I’ve bashed my head into walls! I’ve slapped myself hard enough to leave bruises!”

Twilight searched the blank wall for the right stone.

“I’ve also seen the library in your attic.”

Twilight stiffened… more. “No… that’s locked.”

“Twilight Sparkle’s Secret Sh—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Twilight screamed.

Sunset laughed. Twilight hated just how bucking sexy that laugh sounded.

She. Hated. It. So. Much.

So. Much.

Thankfully, the scream summoned both Minuette and Moondancer, both of whom looked rather flushed. Twilight didn’t want to think about why. She did anyway. At least a little.

She found the right stone and pushed it. A small slot appeared in the wall. Twilight shoved the book inside and turned it as if the wall itself were part of some immense lock. Which it was.

Then, the book got stuck. Twilight grunted and twisted harder, but it wouldn’t budge.

Minuette pushed Twilight aside. She turned around, and bucked the wall once. The book lock turned as if it were on oiled hinges.

The door rumbled open, revealing a dusty, cobweb-lined hallway leading to a spiral staircase. All the torches were out. This did not surprise Twilight in the least. She turned and glared at Minuette.

“How?” Twilight asked. It was a stupid question.

“I work in the Guild.” Minuette shrugged. “Happens all the time down there.”

“Of course it does.”

Twilight led the way up the secret hidden passage. They may have endured the ‘something’s broken, so hit it to fix it’ trope, but at least the method of accessing the hidden staircase trope was semi-original.

Thankfully, the door slid closed behind them just as the steamy jazz tune came over the radio.

Lighting and camerawork by Harlequin Romance Visuals and Vaseline.

Twilight had done the math. And Twilight’s math was impeccable.

“The Cascade should have reached critical mass ten minutes ago,” Twilight grunted as they reached the forty-first floor. “It’s waiting.”

Minuette muttered something. Moondancer grunted.

“How is a rip in reality waiting?” Sunset sounded amused. “That’s crazy.”

“Crazier than you suddenly wearing that dress?” Twilight cried. “If memory serves, you broke down in tears in the trolley! You blew a hole in it to save me! Really, how did you escape the influence of this… thing?”

Sunset hesitated as they climbed to the next level. Twilight checked the obnoxiously convenient ‘You Are Here!’ map that hadn’t been here before.

“Well?” Twilight demanded.

“I hate love ballads,” Sunset muttered. “It’s my biggest turn-off.”

Twilight stopped and stared at the mare. “Seriously? That’s all it took?”

Sunset shrugged. “Either that or the narrative did it for a steamy romantic comedy bit.”

“Harmony, I hope not.” Twilight shuddered. “I couldn’t stand living in a world where the narrative is that corrupted.”

“Well, cope,” Sunset said. Sweat stained her dress. It made the fabric cling to her in all the right places. “Because we’re there now.”

They had reached the top floor of the tallest tower of Canterlot Castle. As they stepped onto the landing, an epic orchestral score swept over them.

“Oh come on!” Twilight whined. “It’s not even bothering with actual speakers anymore! That’s just lazy!”

Aside from a large number ‘42’ on the wall—and the fact that the stairs ended—the landing didn’t look very special. The only thing there was a single wooden door.

The music didn’t stop. In fact, it swelled and a strange tension filled the air. Even the light coming through the narrow window on the north side seemed to dim.

“Oh, that’s bad.” Sunset moaned. “I’ve played enough video games to know what’s about to happen.”

“What?” Twilight blinked. She’d seen video games played on the other side of the mirror. “What do video games have to do with a narrative? Do they even bother with stories in those? What does it mean?”

Sunset ignored her and glared at the door as Minuette and Moondancer joined them on the landing.

“It means… boss fight.”

The pink lightning and the roll of thunder were right on cue.

“For Celestia’s sake!” Twilight screamed, whirling to face the door—and not because of the smoldering intensity pouring off of Sunset at that moment. “Enough!”

Twilight blasted the door to splinters.

“Unauthorized access detected,” said a strangely familiar voice. “Engaging failsafe protocol.”

Twilight stomped inside, only to find herself on glass skybridge stretching between two towers at the very pinnacle of Canterlot Castle. All around them, the sky had changed from blue to pink. However, the swirling magical field pulsing up and down the skybridge made it impossible to see Canterlot itself.

Twilight focused on the far end. A massive gleaming metal door stood there—complete with an enormous glowing red heart at the center. Arcs of pink magic coruscated over plates set into the ground. A massive pad of glittering gold stood before the door itself.

“Summoning avatar,” said the voice.

“Twilight?” Sunset whispered as a ball of pink magic formed over the pad. “Get ready for a fight… and if I’m right, a really nasty one.”

Twilight nodded grimly. Minuette and Moondancer looked exhausted. Sunset’s rose had fallen out. Twilight’s wings were in tatters.

“Whatever happens,” Twilight growled, “one of us has to get through that door!”

There was a blinding flash of horrible pink light and a crescendo of trumpets. Twilight blinked away the afterimages… and her heart stopped in her chest.

Okay, fine, Twilight occasionally had fantasies about a particular figure from her younger years. However, she’d determined this was common with eighty-three percent of ponies using a statistically acceptable sample size.

It was just a little crush, that’s all. One she had no intention of pursuing.

Ever.

The music shifted into a steady, intense rhythm as the figure spoke.

“Aww.” Light purple eyes batted enormous eyelashes at Twilight. “And here I was hoping for some fun with my favorite ladybug.”

Mi Amore Cadenza stood before them, her wings outstretched. She looked resplendent, breathtaking and every inch the Princess of Love.

“Cadance,” Sunset groaned. “Why did it have to be Cadance?”

“That’s no Cadance,” Minuette whispered. “That’s a guardian… from beyond the rift!”

Lightning crashed around the pony who Twilight mentally labeled as Cadenza, who just happened to look like her old foalsitter. The one Twilight had completely gotten over—no matter what Sunset may or may not have found in the attic.

“Who else did you expect as the champion of love for all the world?” Cadenza’s voice alone summoned half-baked fantasies. “Why, when the original finds out about me, I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends. I’m positive Shining will adore me almost as much as his darling wife.!”

She’s probably right about that.

Twilight then shoved that thought into the back of her head with the rest. The walls in her mind creaked ominously.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you though.” Cadenza sighed dramatically. “But if you’d wait two minutes or so, I’d be happy to do anything for you… or to you. And I do mean... anything.”

“What happens in two minutes?” Twilight asked weakly.

“The Love Rift goes critical.”

“Then what?” Sunset demanded.

“Oh, dear Sunset,” Cadenza cooed. “Always so jealous. You know, if you’d asked, I’m sure we could have found a way to ascend… together. But that was only half the reason you were jealous, wasn’t it?”

Sunset took a step backward. “What… what do you…”

“Don’t play coy. I just got to him first. But after this, we might be able to shar—”

A beam of pink magic erupted from behind them and blasted Cadenza off her golden platform. She slammed against the heart in the center of the door and crumpled to the ground. The lighting in the skyway flickered.

“I’m really sick of this crap.”

Twilight and Sunset turned to face a very grumpy-looking Moondancer.

“Okay, that was hot,” Minuette squeaked, her face bright red. “Really hot.”

Moondancer shrugged. “Let’s shut this thing down before—”

A delighted giggle echoed down the skybridge. When they turned, Cadenza was back on her hooves, beaming at them. The music intensified. Lightning and thunder crashed and swirls of pink magic spun around the skybridge.

“Dammit. I knew the sucker punch wouldn’t work,” Sunset muttered. “Too easy.”

“I don’t suppose we can talk this out?” Twilight said, her voice totally devoid of hope.

“You’re adorable,” Cadenza purred.

Twilight noted Cadenza didn’t seem capable of saying anything. It had to be a coo or a purr or something.

“So, that’d be a no?”

Cadenza responded with a blast of heart-shaped magic—because what else could it be. Before anypony could react, the magic heart struck Minuette square in the chest. Minuette yelped and staggered backward, her eyes wide. But it didn’t seem to have any other—

“I called out sick today to ask Moondancer out on a date!” Minuette shouted. She clapped her hooves over her mouth.

“What. The. Buck.” Sunset snarled.

“That… that was a truth spell!” Twilight cried in panic.

“Nothing’s better for the heart than a little confession,” Cadenza cooed. “Should give us some fun before the rift reaches critical mass, hm?”

“Worst. Mechanic. Ever.” Sunset muttered. “Okay, fine, you prissy little lovesick filly! Let’s dance!”

Cadenza smiled and unleashed a barrage of hearts. This time, Twilight and Sunset were ready. Twilight took to the air as Sunset came in low. The spells crashed against their shields with the sound of breaking hearts.

“Awww…” Cadenza pouted. “Nopony wants to play with me?”

“At least come up with something original!” Sunset bellowed as she unleashed a wave of teal fire—wait, wasn’t her magic red?

Cadenza summoned her own shield—pink, of course. Sunset’s wave tore apart Cadenza’s spells before rattling her shield.

“Not bad, little filly,” Cadenza cooed. “But that’s nothing compared to what Shiny can do.”

Twilight growled. “Not okay!”

Twilight fired a bolt of pure magenta magic. The false alicorn tried to sidestep, but a golden beam from a very angry Minuette scorched a line across the door behind her, forcing her to bear the brunt of Twilight’s attack.

Cadenza staggered, looked up at them and grinned. “My turn!”

Four bolts of brilliant pink light erupted from her horn at the same time and streaked across the skybridge like shooting stars.

“Narrative be damned, that’s just OP!” Sunset screamed before a bolt tore through her shield, slammed into her leg and sent her skidding to a halt. Time seemed to stop as Sunset fought the compulsion of Cadenza’s confession spell.

“I’ve had a crush on Twilight since she pulled me out of the crater!” Sunset shouted. She looked ready to pummel Cadenza into dust.

Time snapped back on, only for the next spell to take Twilight in the chest and knock her out of the air. Before she even hit the ground, she shouted, “My romance novel bookmark is a picture of Sunset and me!”

Sunset gasped, her eyes going round.

“Okay, this sucks,” Twilight growled.

Moondancer tried to jump out of the way. So did Minuette. Unfortunately, they ended up jumping into one another and went down in a tumble. The spells struck.

“I’ve written eighty-three fanfics of Twilight and me!” Moondancer shouted. “Forty-two of them were rated Mature!”

Minuette tried to fight it off, but had no more success the second time. “I stood for over two hours under the mistletoe waiting for Moondancer last Hearth’s Warming!”

Cadenza’s giggles echoed off the glass walls. The magic outside shifted from a flirty pink to a sensual red.

“Okay,” Twilight said as she pushed herself to her hooves. “Why don’t we deal with the emotionally traumatic romantic revelations after we’ve saved the world… again?”

“Works for me.” Sunset dusted herself off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moondancer said. “I haven’t said anything emotionally humiliating.”

“She said traumatic,” Minuette said.

“That’s what I said!” Moondancer shouted. “Traumatic!”

Twilight charged her horn. Sunset, Minuette and Moondancer did as well.

“Now, it gets fun!” Cadenza purred, standing proud and tall in the center of the room. “Come on, ladies. Make me feel it this time.”

“You heard her girls,” Twilight snarled. “Aim for the heart.”

Twilight caught the faint nod from each of them. She grinned, then unloaded a barrage of magenta arcane bullets directly at Cadenza. She sidestepped them easily.

Instantly, beams of pink, gold and teal magic tore through the air... and crashed directly into the glowing red heart in the door.

Almost instantly, the heart began to splinter. Pink light erupted through the cracks.

“Oh, now you’re being naughty!” Cadenza purred as she tried to leap between the beams and the heart. Twilight forced her back with an overpowered concussion blast. Cadenza squealed and her knees buckled, but Twilight kept up the pressure.

Then, Cadenza grinned and unleashed a wave of magic hearts. It rushed at them like a river of pink.

“Oh buck me,” Twilight and Sunset groaned in unison.

The wave was three feet away when Moondancer and Minuette threw themselves in front of Twilight and Sunset. Though some immeasurable effort of will, they kept their magic focused on the heart.

Twilight grabbed Sunset and dove behind the shield of her friend’s bodies.

“I’ve written two-hundred and six fanfics about Minuette and me!” Moondancer shouted. Her ears were literally smoking with embarrassment.

“I cried for three days when Moondancer stopped talking to me!”

“I always loved that Minuette tried the hardest.”

“I think the nerdy librarian look is the sexiest thing in the universe!”

Twilight groaned, thankful when their confessions quickly turned into a incoherent babble.

Minuette and Moondancer lasted another twenty seconds before Cadenza’s spells had them making out on the floor.

By then, the heart was little more than a smoking husk.

Sunset reached for their two friends, but Twilight stopped her.

“No matter the cost,” she said.

Sunset nodded and they approached Cadenza. She’d managed to crawl onto the golden mat before the door.

Twilight’s horn lit up. “Surrender. Now.”

Cadenza smiled up at her. “We could have had fun, you know.”

“We won’t ask again.”

Cadenza chuckled. “Not even tempted?”

Sunset’s horn lit up.

“Oh, fine. Time for the happy ending.”

Cadenza erupted in an explosion of pink. The force shattered the glass of the skybridge, leaving it open on all sides. Pink and red magic tore at them.

When Twilight’s vision cleared, sparkles pink hearts floated where Cadenza had been.

“Let’s finish this,” Sunset said. She stepped up to the door and pushed the access button.

“Error: Access Denied. Heat pattern not recognized,” said the voice from earlier.

“Heat pattern?” Twilight frowned at the door. “What…?”

The heart had finally faded from view. In its place, an image appeared. Two mares… embracing… on top of a golden…

“Oh you have got to be kidding!” Twilight shrieked, pounding her hooves in a delightfully cathartic tantrum.

“Hey,” Sunset said. “It could be worse.”

Twilight snarled, hissed and gnashed her teeth and continued her tantrum. It would have made even the most immature of fillies proud.

Then she grabbed Sunset in her magic, yanked her over and kissed her as hard as she could. Sunset eeped, but she didn’t fight it.

She didn’t fight it one bit.

The door hissed and unlocked.

Twilight broke the kiss, annoyed that she had to do so reluctantly. Sunset’s eyes were spinning in her head. She was even blushing. Twilight took that as a win.

Inside the room stood a small pedestal with a big red button, complete with a countdown timer.

“Ten seconds?” Sunset groaned. “Seriously, this is pathetic.”

Twilight trotted over and slapped the button.

The timer stopped at four.

All around them, speakers played triumphant music.

Sunset and Twilight shared a look.

Then every speaker exploded in a blaze of magical fire.

Fight choreography by Brandon Sanderson. Romance quips by the Azerothian Council of Shivarra, Black Temple Department.

Starlight leaned against Trixie on the couch as Twilight finished recounting their story. Sunset had fallen asleep under Twilight’s wing. It had been a long day.

After a long pause, Starlight announced, “Everything you do is weird.”

“Considering what I’ve caught you doing…” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You really want me to respond to that?”

Instantly, Starlight blushed. “Um… no. Sorry.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Another scroll appeared above their heads. Twilight caught it in her magic and unrolled it.

“Huh. Brown and Clear’s wedding invite.” Twilight sighed and put it in the corner with the four dozen other wedding invitations.

“What’s the situation now?” Starlight asked.

“Well, the flower industry is booming,” Twilight said. “Candy sales are through the roof. And weddings are up by a factor of twenty.”

“Wait. So this… Narrative Cascade… it’s permanent?”

Twilight glared at the annoyingly adorable unicorn under her wing. “Only brown narrativium can force a pony to do things out of character. Pink narrativium just removes romantic inhibitions. The feelings were all real. Just suppressed.”

“Oddly specific,” Starlight commented.

“No kidding,” Twilight muttered.

“For somepony with that many shipfics,” Sunset mumbled. “You’re pretty judgmental.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be asleep!”

“I like her.” Trixie giggled.

Starlight joined in. So did Sunset, who cracked an eye open to give Twilight an annoyingly adorable smirk.

Twilight sighed.

“What about Minuette and Moondancer?” Starlight asked.

“Dunno,” Sunset said as she stretched, then pulled Twilight’s wing over her like a blanket. Twilight would have been mad if Sunset weren’t doing it specifically because she knew Twilight found it annoyingly adorable.

“Nopony’s heard from them since the end of the Cascade,” Twilight said.

“That’s not strictly true,” Sunset said. “After all, we did go by Moondancer’s house and we heard some rather loud—”

“Nopony’s heard anything confirmed to be from them since the end of the Cascade!” Twilight shouted.

Starlight and Trixie snickered.

“Ugh, you three will be the death of me.”

“At least you’ll enjoy it!” Sunset said, her smirk never fading.

“Well, we should let you get some rest,” Starlight said as she pulled Trixie up and pushed her toward the door. “You’ve had quite the week. I promised Trixie a moonlit walk along the lake tonight after our picnic date.”

Sunset’s eyes popped open. “Wait a minute… since when have you two been dating?”

Starlight and Trixie both stopped. “What are you talking about?”

“You weren’t dating when we left for Canterlot,” Twilight said. “And the Cascade never made it outside the city.”

Starlight shared a confused look with Trixie.

“Trixie has been gracing Starlight with the pleasure of her romantic company for almost eight months!” Trixie proclaimed. “For the Princess of Friendship, you should pay closer attention to your friends.”

Starlight nodded and the two left, closing the door behind them.

A long silence stretched through the room.

“You think it’s still…”

“No.”

“Okay, just asking.” Sunset snuggled against her like some giant amber tabby. “So, the real question… assuming the Cascade hadn’t happened… would you have said yes?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

Sunset glared at her. “No, really. I want to know.”

“But… that’s what you’re supposed to say.”

“Only for terrible shipfics.” Sunset smirked. “Like the ones in your attic.”

“I’m going to burn my attic.”

“Awww…” Sunset pouted. “But I really wanted to try some of the stuff from issue eighty-four and seventy-six!”

Twilight hesitated. “What about… issue twenty-nine?”

“Only if you promise not to burn them!” Sunset demanded. “And answer my question.”

“Eh. Fine. Worth it. I was going to say yes. There, happy?”

“Very!”

“Good!”

Silence.

“Can we try twenty-nine now?”

“Oh Celestia, yes.”

Twilight Sparkle's Secret Shipfic Folder provided by Horrible People Games.

I do hope you've all enjoyed this wild and crazy romp through Canterlot in this bizarre fusion of Half-Life 1, Back to the Future, Twilight Sparkle's Secret Shipfic Folder, Discworld and my own incurable shipping disorder. This also marks my first attempt at writing what I call "absurdist," a style similar to Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, who I strongly recommend to any reader of comedy, author of comedy, human, alien or extradimensional chaos god.

My one regret is I didn't have an extra ten thousand words. I could have gone on and on like this for who knows how long. I ended up only twenty words under the hard word count cutoff. It got to the point where I had a spreadsheet to help me track it properly. However, I learned a lot about word efficiency through this exercise.

Special thanks to two guest pre-readers: Ladrian and Heartshine! Ladrian's commentary is so damn perfect, especially for a story like this. Sadly, he had some brilliant ideas that I couldn't add because it would put me over the word count! I'm also happy to say that the ending of this story is pretty much exactly what he would have written anyway! Heartshine added even more to it with her wisecracks and insights, plus just being there for encouragement and a bit of kindness.

As usual, thanks to both Cursori and Little Tinker for their tireless efforts at helping me make my stories the best they can be.

Narrativium was outright stolen from the Discworld universe by Terry Pratchett, though Pink Narrativium was my idea. In addition, the lines by the Doctors are also the lines heard in the testing chamber before the Resonance Cascade at the beginning of Half-Life 1!

Don't worry about Doctor Freepony. After all, the right pony in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. I'm sure some mysterious, story-hopping agent of unknown forces made sure he was tucked somewhere safe and secure.

Great plot! It's almost time to hit publish! I should get to that!

Until next time folks, have fun!

-Novel