“Sunset…?”

Sunset shifted on her hooves, suddenly bashful in the unwavering gaze of her friend. “Hi, Twilight.”

“You’re here,” Twilight said in a soft voice so full of emotion that Sunset almost choked. She watched as Twilight’s face then went through a myriad of expressions — shock, fear, outrage, hesitation, disbelief — and then finally settled on one of the biggest smiles she’d ever seen on her friend since the first time she’d met her.

Sunset’s face must have also been something to see, because Twilight dipped her head down and brushed the side of her head against her own. A nuzzle, Sunset belatedly realized.

When Twilight pulled back, she was unable to meet Sunset’s eyes anymore. She looked down at the floor between them, a shy smile creeping across her lips.

“Um… hey.”

“Hi. Um... again.”

“Why… are you here? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but…” she trailed off, at a literal loss for words.

“Yeah, well,” Sunset said, getting a bit of her footing back as the shock of seeing Twilight began to wear off, “who else would come here to help keep your crazy lesbian urges at bay? I mean, you ate a raw potato. It doesn't get much more rock-bottom than that.”

“Eating a— I thought it was an apple! Besides, that has nothing to do with urges — urges I don’t have, by the way!”

Flurry snorted from beside them. “You ate a raw potato? Hah. Gay.”

As if suddenly realizing that her entire family was here with her, Twilight’s chagrined smile fell and her eyes flicked around the table once, twice, before finally settling squarely on Celestia. Her smile dropped completely. “What is this? Why did you bring Sunset here?” Her eyes suddenly widened, and she whirled back on Sunset. “And you’re a unicorn?! How the fuck did that happen? I don’t—”

“Yeah… that was my bad,” Flurry cut in. “Sorry. That happened when I brought her here. I think it had something to do with the differences between pony and human magic, but I can’t seem to pin it down.”

The glare that Twilight fixed her niece with made Sunset’s skin burn, and it wasn’t even directed at her.

“We’ll discuss your frivolous use of transplaner magics later, Flurry Heart,” the Goddess of Friendship hissed angrily. “For now, let me check to see if you didn’t damage her permanently.” She turned her gaze back on Sunset. “Hold still, Sunny. This will only take a moment.”

Without further ado, her horn sparked and shimmered with light. Sunset felt something wash over her body and left her fur standing on end — like she just touched a low voltage electric wire. She shivered once as the sensation repeated itself, and then, just like that, it was over.

“Is she alright?” Celestia asked, concerned.

“Yes,” Twilight replied after a moment. All the anger had left her voice, leaving only puzzlement. “A complete equine transformation. I’m... unsure why she turned into a unicorn and not, say, an earth pony, but there you go. And not only that, but she has as much innate magic as a regular human. Which is to say, not much at all.” She sent one final glare towards Flurry Heart and said, “as for why she turned into a pony at all… I’m actually not sure. I can only speculate.”

“Have a guess, then,” Luna pressed gently from beside her sister.

“Yeah, ‘cuz, I legit wanna know why I don’t have fingers anymore,” Sunset said.

Rolling her eyes, Twilight’s horn flickered again and in a series of soft ‘pops’, several books appeared, hovering in the air around her. Two of them opened with ominous creaks and pages flipped rapidly in succession. Twilight turned her attention away from Sunset to focus the books, muttering to herself as she took mental notes. When she didn’t find what she wanted from one of them, she disregarded it in a flash of light and opened another, flipping through it faster than Sunset could parse out.

After a few moments of relative silence and no less than seven rejected books, Twilight visibly brightened; she had apparently found what she was looking for. Her eyes skimmed over the page for a few seconds, and then she nodded, slamming the book shut with a satisfying ‘thunk’.

“Okay, while no precedent for this situation has ever been properly established, theories have been formulated regarding intra-world teleportation and inter-species transmogrification. According to Nova Lux, who was the foremost expert on meta-world theory—” She paused, shrugging. “—well... aside from me, anyway, he hypothesized that a being from one world that traveled to another—”

“Yeah, okay, lemme stop you right there,” Sunset said, lifting a hoof. Twilight stopped, blinking in confusion. “I can almost guarantee that anything you say past this point I won’t be able to follow. So how about you dumb it down a bit for me?”

“Ditto,” Flurry Heart chimed in. “I mean, as much as I love your little educational rants, Auntie Twi, I don’t think now is the time.”

Twilight exhaled sharply — insulted, almost — and looked to Celestia and Luna for support. When the two goddesses only shrugged, a gesture mirrored by Cadence, the Princess of Friendship wilted, her ears flattening atop her head.

“Fine…” she muttered, dejected. She sat there silently for a moment, sulking. Everyone waited for her to collect her thoughts, and when she finally did, she raised her head. “Basically, she turned into a unicorn because her innate magic, however meager it might be, resonated with native Equestrian magic on this side of the mirror.” She fixed Celestia with an unreadable expression. “Or, in other words, there is — or was — magic here that is the exact same as Sunset Shimmer’s. The most likely source would be another pony.” Her eyes slowly turned back towards the pony in question. “And from the looks of things, it’s a unicorn.”

Sunset blinked, Twilight’s words breaking through her thoughts like a runaway bulldozer. Did that mean… “Wait, are you saying,” she breathed, disbelieving. “That there’s another me here? An actual pony me?!”

Twilight’s tone was careful. Measured. “So it would seem. And apparently, one that I was not aware of.” She turned back to Celestia. “Do you have any input on this guess, Princess Celestia?”

The white alicorn was silent for a long moment, her eyes never leaving Twilight’s. The friendship goddess returned her stare unflinchingly; a silent contest of wills between immortals. Celestia was the first to crumble. “I have an... idea,” she said quietly. “But that can wait. For now, I think we should move onto what we all came here to discuss.”

Twilight’s stare lingered on Celestia for a while longer, trying to extract any information she could from her fellow goddess’ face, but she eventually nodded, her frown turning pensive. “Very well,” she said, straightening. “Is there a problem with Sunset’s contract with me? I assume that’s why you brought her here without consulting me first.”

“Not as such,” Celestia replied, looking towards Sunset with a kind smile. “Although it does have something to do with it. No…” she returned her gaze to Twilight, her smile fading as she drew in a calming breath. “We wanted to talk to you about the mirror.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?” She looked to Luna, and then Cadence. A cursory glance to Flurry and her frown deepened. “Has something happened to it?”

“Be at peace, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said gently. “Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But… you know as well as we do that means little. It’s only a matter of time before the mirror is gone.”

Twilight’s face was impassive, but Sunset could see the lines of tension around her eyes. She was uncomfortable with this topic; that much was obvious. And if Sunset could tell, then her family definitely could. It was interesting to see how her features corresponded to her human counterpart -- it was nearly the exact same… so much so, that Sunset could imagine her friend sitting right next to her on her couch.

Very grumpily, however.

“So? We already knew this,” the goddess said simply. She shrugged again, uncaring. “We agreed that we would just let it happen.”

“No. You said that we would let it happen.” Flurry Heart’s tone was harder than Sunset had ever heard it. Even Twilight blinked at the bitterness of it. “And then you rebuffed any and all attempts to bring up the situation again. But not anymore.”

Sunset could see in her friend’s eyes the moment she understood the real reason for the impromptu gathering of her family and friend. Her eyes widened fractionally, her lips parting as she sucked in a breath, and then she closed herself off. Her eyes grew cold, her lips curling into a sneer.

“Oh. So this is why you called me here,” she said. She looked at everyone in turn, focusing on Sunset last, and the human-turned-unicorn shrunk at the disapproving look her friend stared her down with. “And you even convinced Sunset to help with this asinine attempt to… what, persuade me to break myself free from the mirror? To fix the mirror?” She barked out a humorless laugh. “Well, you can forget it. Take Sunset back to her world. We’re done here.”

“You need help, Twili,” Cadence said softly.

Twilight balked at that. “I need help?” she echoed scornfully. “With what? I’ve lived for over five thousand years, Cadence, and I’ve gotten along fine without any help.”

“That’s not true.” It was Luna’s turn, who straightened from place at the table, her expression grim. “How many times have we gone to Earth on your behalf, answering summons meant for you simply because they were too frequent and you were stretched too thin? If we hadn’t helped then, the mirror would have surely been destroyed long before now.”

Twilight considered that. “Then I’m living off borrowed time,” she finally said. “That’s fine. I knew that a long time ago.” She looked down at the table. “We all knew that.”

“But we never accepted it,” Celestia said calmly. “The only one of us to accept it was you, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Accept what?!” Sunset finally shouted, drawing every eye in the room to her. When she knew that she had the floor, she stomped her hooves angrily. “I’m tired of everyone fucking beating around the bush, brushing me off and just fucking ignoring my questions!” She fixed Twilight with her best anti-bluster stare. “What will happen to you once the mirror breaks?”

No one said anything for a long moment. Everybody simply stood there, looking decidedly uncomfortable in the wake of Sunset’s outburst. Twilight looked like she was going to say something, but faltered when Sunset’s glare remained.

“Twilight will die,” came the eventual answer. Celestia was the one who had spoken, and it was clearly done so with hesitation.

It was both the answer Sunset feared most, and yet wholly expected to hear. Still, she had to say, “but… she’s immortal.”

Luna nodded, taking over for Celestia. “She is, but that matters little with magic. Once the mirror breaks, so does its connection with Twilight Sparkle. For thousands of years the mirror has acted as an anchor to Twilight’s immortal soul; binding her to this plane. She…” she hesitated, chancing a glance at Twilight, who nodded solemnly. “She should have died back then, when the Elements were defeated. But somehow the mirror kept her rooted to this plane, as one in the same; the mirror and Twilight. But if one were to be destroyed…” she trailed off, allowing Sunset to put the pieces together on her own.

“If the mirror were to be destroyed, like it's slowly been doing over the years, then there is nothing left to tie Twilight to the mortal plane. Even if she's immortal, she’ll… disappear?”

“We’re not sure,” Cadence said quietly, her ears folded flat against her head. “But that’s the only answer we could come up with.”

“Bullshit!” Sunset snarled. “I won’t accept that! There has to be something we can do.”

“There is, but that isn’t the problem.”

“Well, what is the problem?”

Twilight sighed, her expression not giving anything away. “The problem, if they want to call it that, is me.” She returned Sunset’s glare. “I don’t want to be free of the mirror.”

Sunset scoffed. “So, what, you’re cool with dying? Is that it?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Twilight’s words were so dispassionate, so matter-of-fact, that Sunset actually sat down on the floor, hard. She stared at her friend, mouth agape, unable to say anything to refute the goddess’ uncaring declaration that she was ready — was willing — to die.

When she finally could form words, she only whispered, “You can’t mean that.”

Twilight looked down at her, her face grim. “I’ve been alive far longer than I deserve, Sunset. I think I really do.”

“Why?”

She paused, something flickering across her face for an instant before getting covered up by indifference. “You’re mortal. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s because of your friends,” Sunset said, working moisture into her mouth. “Isn’t it? They died, and didn't. You feel guilty because of it.”

Twilight’s face darkened. “That’s enough, Sunset Shimmer.”

“No!” she shot back, gathering herself up and standing as tall as she could — which was only to Twilight’s chest, but it was the principal of the thing, damn it! “You helped me when I was feeling shitty, so now it’s time to listen to me! The Catastrophe—”

“Sunset…” Twilight growled, her eyes narrowing.

“Shut up!” Sunset snapped. “That was a shitty thing, yeah, and you and your friends tried their best to help! They died, but that was an accident! There was nothing you could have done!” In the back of her head, Sunset wondered if it was a smart thing to antagonize Twilight like this. She knew how powerful her friend was, and riling her up like this might not be the greatest idea, but it was too late now; she was on a roll. “And now, here you are, alone and miserable, just because you think you should be? Fuck that!” She sucked in a breath in preparation for her final blow.

“You tell me, Twilight; would your friends be happy with this? Do you think they’re happy with you wanting to die?!”

Before she could even shut her mouth from her diatribe she found herself forced up the against the wall across the room, the wind knocked clean out of her. Nothing visible was holding her — some some powerful, unseen thing — to the wall, but she was unable to move as she tried to force air into her lungs. Her mouth worked feebly, unable to draw breath as swiveled her eyes to see Twilight stalk towards her, her eyes glowing with a dark pink fire and her mane whipping angrily around her.

“You… dare…” the goddess hissed, her voice reverberating through the expansive room. Somewhere deep down, Sunset recognized her friend’s voice as that of her ‘super spooky demon’ form she sometimes took. Only this time, it was actually, truly frightening.

“You dare use the memory of my friends against me?” Twilight’s voice was unnatural, the sound sinking into Sunset’s entire being and leaving only fear and darkness in its wake. “You know nothing! You are nothing! Who are you, to claim to know anything about me?! You have no right! None!” she shrieked, her eyes alight with malice and her wings splayed out wide in an aggressive stance. She flapped once, closing the distance between them in an instant and it was all Sunset could do to shut her eyes to prepare for the inevitable—

“That’s enough, Twilight.”

Celestia’s voice — clear and soft, but holding an unmistakable edge to it — cut in through Twilight’s rage like a blade. At once the oppressive air around Sunset disappeared, and she found herself slumped on the grown like a child’s doll, shaking like a leaf and sobbing as she tried to make sense of what just happened.

Twilight — her best friend — had almost killed her. Or… something. Maybe that was a little much. Maybe she wouldn’t have killed her. Or maybe she just would have turned her into a rabbit or something. Regardless, Sunset had set out to antagonize the goddess into acting, to break through the girl’s seemingly uncaring attitude towards her own mortality — ironically enough — and she had certainly succeeded.

In spades.

Through the sound of her tears, she heard the quiet, soothing sounds of Twilight’s voice, murmuring, “shh… shh… I’m sorry, Sunny. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…” She felt the gentle touch of her friend touch her shoulders as she cried, and the warmth she always felt from her friend when she was with her.

“Damn,” she finally said after her sobs had slowed to the occasional hiccup. “Remind me never to piss you off again.”

A wet chuckle. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. Was kinda asking for it, anyway.” Sunset sniffled, reaching up to clumsily wipe her hoof across her nose. “Fuck, I must look like shit right now.”

“Silly filly,” Twilight whispered, hooking a hoof underneath Sunset’s chin and tugging it up to look at her. “You look great. So fetch.”

Despite herself, Sunset snorted. “Dude, I told you that ‘fetch’ isn’t a thing.”

They stayed like that for another few seconds before Twilight pulled Sunset up. She wobbled shakily for a couple steps, but after a false start, they finally returned to the table.

“I’m sorry, everypony,” Twilight said softly as they rejoined her family. “I… don’t have any excuses.”

“There is nothing to excuse, Twilight,” Celestia said kindly. “Everypony here understands.”

“Well, personally, I could have done without the aggravated assault… but that’s just me,” Sunset muttered, though without any heat. Twilight rolled her eyes and nudged her side.

Celestia smiled at the two of them, and then frowned thoughtfully. “Twilight, would you be willing to try something?”

“What do you mean?” the goddess asked carefully.

“Well, sometimes it helps to see something from out outside perspective,” the sun alicorn explained. “To get a better understanding of the situation, one must see from another point of view. Maybe it would help if you could see what we see when we look at you. That way, you could better understand why we are so worried.”

Twilight eyed the other alicorn shrewdly, but nodded. “Alright. What did you have in mind?”

The smile returned, and Celestia turned to Cadence. “Cadence, would you mind retrieving Starswirl’s Mirror for us? Bring it here, please.”

Cadence looked between Celestia and Twilight, confused, but she nodded tightly and disappeared in a flash of light.

“You’re bringing the mirror here?” Twilight asked, wariness evident in her tone. “Why?”

“To test a theory, My Faithful Student,” Celestia replied.

“Uh huh.” Twilight settled herself beside Sunset, her grumpiness finally showing itself after her little breakdown. “I’ve seen your theories, Princess, and they mainly have to do with experimenting with new recipes for cake.”

From beside Celestia, Luna snorted.

“Yes, well… I assure you that there are no cakes involved at the moment—”

“At the moment,” Flurry Heart repeated quietly.

Huffing softly, Celestia frowned. “Okay, that joke was old four thousand years ago.”

“Which means it’s funny again. Retro is the new hip, after all.”

“Yes. Therefore making fun of Granny Tia is hip,” Luna snickered.

Letting out a long sigh, the sun goddess refused to answer. The chuckles from the alicorns around Sunset slowly died down, and before anyone had any time to speak, the ‘crack’ of Cadence reappearing heralded the pink alicorn’s arrival.

With the mirror in tow.

Using her magic to set the magical artifact gently on the ground, Cadence took her place back at the table. “Here it is, Auntie,” she said. “Now, maybe you can explain why you wanted it here?”

Nodding, Celestia turned to regard the mirror. “Starswirl the Bearded was a talented magician,” she said, perhaps unnecessarily. “Many of the artifacts he created were one of a kind; unable to be reproduced. Or if they were, they were never quite the same. This mirror was one of those. However, one or two other mirrors were later created which bear a likeness to this one, and in their creation, a very specific function of the mirror was discovered.”

Turning back to the others, she continued, “We originally thought that the mirror acts as a physical gateway between worlds. Many different worlds, in theory. One that we can use to travel from one world to the next. That much is true, but in fact, there is another way to access worlds with the mirror, one that isn’t so obvious.”

“What are you saying?” Twilight demanded, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“I’m saying, Twilight Sparkle, that if we tune into the mirror in a specific way, we can glimpse into the mirror to view other worlds, instead of just physically going to them.”

Twilight’s mouth dropped open a couple of centimeters. “Why haven’t I been told this?”

The smile Celestia gave the purple alicorn was equal parts sweet and bitter. “Because, My Faithful Student, you always refused to discuss the mirror with me. You never let me tell you what I’ve learned about it all these centuries.”

If Twilight was embarrassed by the not-so-subtle admonishment, she hid it well. She shut her mouth and gazed pointedly at the mirror, as if waiting for Celestia to pull a rabbit out of it and be done with the demonstration.

“So… what, we’re going to look in the mirror and see something?” Sunset wondered. “What are we going to see?”

“We’re going to see Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia said simply.

“What—” Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the mirror blazed with light, shining brightly with every color of the rainbow. Sunset lifted a hoof reflexively to cover her eyes, and when the light finally faded, every eye in the room was drawn to the mirror.

“What are you doing?” Twilight finally finished her question, her tone sharp and demanding.

“I think it’s finally time to see who Twilight has become without friendship to guide her.”

And slowly, like an old vacuum tube television warming up and finally coming to life, the cracked but still reflective sheen of the mirror began to show shapes.

And with a sinking feeling of dread, Sunset knew just what everyone was going to see.

Twilight Sparkle, her dress a shimmering violet and her hair a glossy sheen, in the car with Blueblood. Her eyes alight with glee and malice as she mounted him. Her lips peeled away from her teeth in a terrifying grin when he realized just what was happening, and how the tables had inexplicably turned on him. His manhood gone, and apparently endowed to another, tears began to leak from his eyes as the monster on top of him took total and absolute control…

The image blurred, shifting to a shaken, tired-looking Blueblood sitting in a psychiatrist’s office, shaking like a leaf. A much clearer picture, this scene had the feeling of something happening currently; they had obvious been talking for a while before the group of goddesses tuned into the conversation.

“These feelings sound like displacement to me,” the grey-haired man told him as he removed his horn-rimmed glasses to wipe them with a tissue. “You harbor resentment towards your mother for leaving you, abandoning you as an infant. Until now, you have over-identified with your father, who encouraged the mindset that all women are nothing but… pardon my rudeness, sexual objects. However…”

“However what?” Blueblood asked in a quiet, nervous tone.

“However, you have always yearned for that connection to your feminine side. Missed it, craved it more than ever. That is why, until now, you have mistreated women in your relationships; you didn’t know how to handle what you had, and fell back onto your father’s teachings.”

“But I didn’t try to do that!” he burst out, pulling roughly at his hair. “They seemed into it, they seemed to like to want to fuck — and I’m pretty sure they did, okay?!”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive. They wanted to have sex with you, yes, but they also wanted a relationship; they were hoping you would also be their boyfriend instead of just a one night stand. But you treated them as disposable, and the guilt has caught up with you, and caused this hallucination.”

Getting to his feet, Blueblood paced back and forth as he tried to string two thoughts together in the chaos of his mind. “You don’t know how real it felt. It was like— I mean, I really felt her —him— on top of me, and I felt me… I felt it disappear! I was totally gone! I’ve never had a dream that felt so real!”

“That is because it was of utmost importance to your subconscious that you be made to see your behavior is unacceptable.” Though his voice did not raise, he punctuated the last word with a slap against the desk. “The dreams we need in order to sort through our emotions are often the most real to us.”

“Fine,” he sighed, as if still doubting it was only a dream but having no other way to explain it aloud. “Then… how am I supposed to treat women better? I still don’t really get it, it just… they want my body, I want theirs, and that’s all I understand, so…”

“Just listen to them. Your father has done you a great disservice, making you believe there is such a vast difference between sexes. We are all only human. All of us are worthy of equal respect.”

The mirror lost its glow and left silence in its wake. Sunset looked around the room, seeing various expressions ranging from surprise to pity. Twilight’s was the worst of all; remorse.

Feeling to need to say something in defense of her friend — after all, it was her problem in the first place — she sighed, “Okay, so.. I’m sorry he freaked out, but doesn’t it look like he kinda needed to be shaken up? To learn something about how messed up he is?”

“You truly think so?” Celestia replied, her tone honestly curious. “Do you think psychological trauma is the only way to get through to someone?” Her eyes flicked to Twilight. “You can’t yield dividends without sacrificing something.”

“Maybe not usually,” Sunset retorted. “But this time, there doesn’t seem to be a downside.”

“Truly? Watch.”

The mirror flickered to life again.

Blueblood was now in his room at his frat house. When he reached up and took off his shirt, a red lace bra was underneath, covering his pecs. His eyes were wide and fearful, bloodshot. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, and he hurriedly tossed the shirt to the side and pulled on a clean one before anyone could walk in and see him.

“Oh—” Twilight gasped and lifted a hoof to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“And there it is,” the sun goddess stated evenly.

“There what is?” Sunset replied without batting an eye. “He’s exploring his feminine side. Good for him. To be totally blunt, more guys would probably be a lot better off if they tried wearing what we wear at least once in their lives.”

Shaking her head gently, Celestia waved a hoof towards the mirror. “But he didn’t come to it on his own. You — through Twilight — forced him through a traumatic experience that now has him questioning his gender and sexuality.”

“Again, so what?” Sunset narrowed her eyes. She was getting defensive on Twilight’s behalf. Even as she stared back at Celestia, she heard Twilight’s choked murmur from beside her.

Celestia’s tone was still calm, neither sympathizing nor being needlessly harsh. “Your revenge on him was petty, even if you told yourself you were doing it so that he would never treat another girl the way he treated you.”

“You’re making a big deal about him wearing a bra, I think! So what? Maybe he always wanted to try it, and he couldn’t before now! Doesn’t that mean we actually helped him instead?!”

“That does not change the motivation. You wanted him to suffer the way he made you suffer through his unwanted advances. Understandable, but hardly pure.” Again, she looked at Twilight. “And not something the Elements of Harmony should be used for.”

“Well, what about the other guys?” Sunset cut in swiftly. “The guy from the pizza place didn’t have anything bad happen to him — in fact, he got to see some free boobs! Neither did the other two, not really!”

Pursing her lips, Celestia settled down at the table. “You are correct about Noteworthy. I’ll concede him. Since the two of you intervened, he’s actually started dating Cloud Kicker now that he has a somewhat better understanding of how to approach women. Though, the fact remains that you sent Twilight after these men with the intention to punish then, and I won’t be distracted from that. I will say, however, in this case, things turned out for the best.”

“Great. Good,” Sunset sighed.

“Snips, however…”

“What? What about Snips?” Her stomach was twisting in knots as the mirror shifted to show the store clerk sitting in a jail cell, head in his hands.

Twilight moaned, “Oh no…”

“Your ‘cautionary horror show’ sent him over the edge.” Celestia’s voice was still soft, but her eyes were hard. “Now that he’s serving a sentence for assaulting a waitress who shouted at him for accidentally bumping her breast with his elbow, he has plenty of time to contemplate where he went wrong in his treatment of women. That part may yet serve some good. The waitress, on the other hoof…”

Sunset didn’t want to hear the rest of it. “No… she can’t be dead. Please, tell me he didn’t kill her…”

“No, not dead. Just a broken arm and a broken nose.”

“Oh.” Though her pulse was falling back down her its usual levels, it wouldn’t quite dip down that far. “Do you… I mean, can we see her?”

“Why?” Celestia looked at her shrewdly. “She’s no one to you — and it’s not your fault he attacked her, is it?”

“No, not exactly… but…”

In a flash, everything came together in her mind. This lesson was as much for Sunset as it was for Twilight. All actions did not exist in a bubble. Everything she and Twilight did to those men had farther-reaching consequences. There was always a domino effect, even if she didn’t see it, even if she didn’t believe it at first. Yes, she had partially understood that before now, when she noticed how lonely Rarity was without Blueblood around to at least physically reassure her, but it was crystal clear at that moment.

And Sunset could blame her own immaturity and inexperience for this. What about Twilight? Who could she blame besides herself?

“Do you feel responsible for her?” Celestia offered.

“Not that, either. Just… concerned.”

“Alright.”

The image on the mirror shifted, and the dread in the pit of Sunset’s stomach uncoiled when she found herself looking at a woman she didn’t even know; she’d been half-expecting to see Rarity there, or maybe her mother. But the pang of regret was still sharp as she looked at the bruises on her face, at the split lip and the brace holding her re-broken nose in position.

“What’s… her name?” Twilight asked softly.

“Symphony. She is a struggling pianist who waitresses part time. She just started seeing a boy in the dish room, and can’t check her phone right now to see the dozens of missed calls. He now thinks she lost interest and quit his job to avoid her.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted!” Sunset breathed, her body trembling with frustration. “I mean, I’m glad they caught him so he can’t do it again, but I… oh, God… poor Symphony.”

“Stop this,” Flurry Heart said, her voice hard. “You’ve made your point, Celestia. Sunset is just inexperienced and ignorant in the ways of life. Putting her through this is—”

“And what about Twilight?” Luna cut Flurry off. “Would you use the same excuse for her? Would you consider Twilight ignorant, or inexperienced? She is as much to blame as Sunset is. If not more so.”

“I…” Flurry stammered. “I—”

“It’s okay, Flurry,” Twilight murmured, her eyes never leaving the scene in the mirror. “I… need to see this.”

“What about Snails?” Sunset couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Nothing bad happened because of what we did to him, right?”

“No,” Celestia said. “Not yet. What happened with Snails will have other consequences in the future; of that I’m sure. But at present, he has merely been more cautious of who he talks to online. Also, he has a new irrational fear of cupcakes. If you’re really curious, though, I could have Luna run up some projections…?”

Shaking her head, Sunset sat back down and ran her hoof through her mane, trying not to look at the crestfallen look on Twilight’s face. “Those people… I mean, didn’t Snails deserve it for trying to force himself on me?! For doing it again to Twilight when she disguised herself? You’re acting like we’re the bad guys here — I mean, we’re not the ones going around, screwing over anyone with a uterus!”

For a moment, the room was quiet. Celestia nodded to herself, and then said, “In each of us, two natures are constantly at war — the good and the evil. All our lives, the fight goes on between them, and one of them must eventually conquer. But in our own hands lies the power the choose -- what we want most to be, we are.”

“Wow,” Luna muttered quietly. “You really need to get to the library and get some new material.”

“You’re getting in the way of my pathos, Luna,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

“But I…” Sunset floundered. “I was mad, but you also know I didn’t want any of them treating women like shit anymore. I can do things for more than one reason. I’m not evil!”

“Yes, Sunset Shimmer, that’s true. Humans are… beautifully complex. I’m not even saying that at any one time, you did anything truly ‘evil’. But can you honestly sit there and tell me that a person who repeatedly summoned the Goddess of Friendship, for the main purpose of personal vendettas, has any room to say she had everyone’s best interest at heart?”

Not giving anyone a chance to add anything more, she turned her attention to Twilight. “And you, My Faithful Student,” she said, her voice never dropping below the level of ‘caring’. “Can you honestly tell me that if your friends could see you now, they would be happy with what you have become? Would they approve? Would they still want to be your friend?”

Her words were the last straw. With a deep, shuddering breath that seemed to travel through Twilight’s entire body, she broke. She let out a long, keening whine and collapsed on the ground, crying louder than Sunset could have ever thought possible. Her body racked with her sobs, her wings splayed out limply on the ground as she cried.

Sunset was shocked. She’d never seen Twilight laid bare like the before. Until now the goddess had always seemed so… perfect, so unflappable that she was beginning to suspect Twilight never cried or got upset. Oh, how wrong she was.

She looked around the table to the others, intent on getting some sort to cue or reassurance that they had Twilight’s outburst under control. None of them moved, only watched on as the goddess cried on the floor. She locked eyes with Celestia, and with a barely perceptible nod from the white alicorn, knew what she had to do.

Kneeling down to eye level with Twilight — which was actually not all that lower than her normal standing height — and pressed her face against Twilight’s in a nuzzle. The larger pony recoiled at first, whimpering, “N-no! Don’t touch me — I’m a m-monster!”

“Shh… you’re not a monster,” Sunset soothed gently. Twilight shook her head and cried harder, only spurring on Sunset’s attempts at comforting the goddess.

“I am!” she sobbed. “L-look what I’ve become! I… I never used to be this way! I used to build b-bridges! Make friends! And h-help ponies! Now I just h-hurt them!”

“It was my fault.” Sunset’s chest was tight, but she forced herself to say, “I made you hurt them. They were my problems and you only did what I told you to.”

Twilight shook her head again, jostling Sunset with the motion. “I could have suggested something better! I should have done more, should have thought of an alternative that didn’t hurt anypony!” She sniffled, coughed, and cried pathetically, “Now nopony will ever want to be my friend!!!”

It was such a pitiful and childish — though, considering the circumstances, justifiably horrible — statement that Sunset smiled. She knew just what to say to that.

“I’m your friend, Twilight,” she whispered against the goddess’ ear.

At once Twilight stiffened, and despite the hushed “D’awww” overheard from Flurry Heart and the equally quiet “Shhh!” from her mother, Sunset knew she had gotten through to her.

“...Really?” Twilight asked, her voice quiet. Hesitant.

Sunset snorted. “Well, duh. I mean, come on — we sang a fucking duet together. I don’t sing You’ve Got A Friend In Me with just anybody, you know?”

Flurry gasped dramatically. “What?! You sang Toy Story without me? Dude.”

“Flurry!” Cadence hissed.

Twilight burst into tears again, but Sunset could tell it wasn’t as bad as before. She let her friend rest her head on her shoulder and cry, moving a foreleg around to awkwardly pat her on the back until she finally began to quiet.

When she did, Sunset heard the barest whisper, “Help me…”

She blinked, moving back. “What?”

With a visible effort, Twilight straightened and turned her attention back to her family. Her eyes were red, and her fur was wet with tears, but her expression was determined. “Help me…” she repeated. She stood up slowly and faced her family.

“Will you all help me break free of the mirror?”

Sunset felt her heart thump in her chest. She knew how much it must have hurt Twilight to admit that she needed help. And now that she had… well, there was only one thing left to do.

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to touch her friend’s face with her hoof. “That’s why I’m here, after all.”

A series of affirmations came from around the table, and Twilight sniffled. “T-thanks… everypony. I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t apologize, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said gently. “You would do the same for us.”

“I guess…”

“Well, now that we’ve reached an understanding,” Celestia announced, her smile wide. “There is the matter of how to go about breaking Twilight free of the mirror.”

The group fell silent for a few seconds, each one clearly thinking of the best way to go about such a task. Eventually, Flurry Heart was the first one to speak.

“Why don’t we just use the Elements of Harmony?”

“I… what?” Twilight asked, blinking rapidly.

Sunset could relate. What?

Flurry shrugged. “Well, why not? They failed before because they were overpowered by that strange foreign magic coming from the mirror. Well, that magic has long dissipated, leaving nothing in our way to use the Elements to fix the mirror and free you in the process.”

“It’s not that simple, Flurry,” Cadence said slowly. “While the Elements could, in theory, fix the mirror, there are too many variables.” She fixed Twilight with a sideways glance. “Besides, the Element bearers are all dead. There’s nopony left to wield them besides Twilight.”

“Isn’t there?” Flurry pressed. “The Elements were used by Celestia and Luna to defeat Discord before. Therefore, they can be wielded by other ponies. Maybe not perfectly, but…” she trailed off, her meaning clear. Other ponies could use the Elements.

This time Luna spoke. “But that was because Tia and I each had traits that corresponded to the elements equally. I used the Elements of Generosity, Honesty and Laughter. Tia wielded Magic, Kindness and Loyalty. It was enough to push back Discord, but only just.” She frowned. “As Cadence said; Twilight now wields all six Elements, but she is not powerful enough to utilize them effectively enough to break free of the mirror.” She looked to Twilight for confirmation, and got a stiff nod. “And if we were to each use the Elements in her stead, there wouldn’t be Harmony between us. There would be five wielders, with one pony using two Elements at once. That pony’s magic would be spread too thin and unable to wield both effectively.”

“But we don’t have five of us,” Flurry insisted.

“I… beg your pardon?”

“I said, there aren’t five ponies here.” Flurry straightened, her smile widening as she turned her gaze to Sunset. “There are six ponies here. And, forgive me for saying so… but I’d say Sunset is as Loyal to Twilight Sparkle as they come.” The twinkle in the alicorn’s eye was unmistakable, as was the implication.

One by one the connection was made, the idea taking root in each and every pony’s mind. Six ponies… six Elements.

“Huh…” Celestia finally said, her expression not unlike someone hit her over the head with a large pillow. “Well, that… might work.”