Princess Celestia walked in silence. The dirt under her hooves had an alien feel to it; it lacked a certain feel that Equestrian soil had. The world was full of magic, from everything that made it up to the creatures civilized and feral that lived in it. This dirt lacked that touch.

And looking around, there wasn’t a sign of natural life anywhere. The only beings she could see, at least in the immediate vicinity, either all sat in cages or lay chained to the ground atop their own little mountains. Them, and the three-headed bulldog that practically stood over her; she could feel him breathing down her backside.

Celestia looked over her withers and looked Cerberus in the eyes. Cerberus didn’t react, aside from a brief flapping of his jaws as he snorted. Celestia had seen that a hundred times.

Celestia hummed as she continued down the path. The cavern stretched quite a ways in every direction, with a few paths snaking their way across it. Stairs led to the occasional mountain.

She ignored most sets of stairs, although she did take the opportunity to look toward one of the mountains where one of the cages sat. A lone centaur sat in that cage with an eternal snarl on his face. His skin wrapped around his bones and his red and black palette looked pale. Tirek grasped at the bars and hissed at Celestia as she passed.

She raised an eyebrow in response (although she could feel the corners of her mouth twitch upward as well) but then faced forward again a second later. And, as soon as the path took her behind a rock formation where she couldn’t see his cage anymore, all thought of him left her mind.

She continued along with Cerberus right behind her. The path forked at a few intervals; she first hung a left and then took a right. She looked over the edge once, trying to see into the fog far below.

Finally, she reached the end of her route where the path turned into another set of stairs. It was here that Cerberus took a seat and started licking a spot on his foreleg.

Celestia took a deep breath. There were exactly 43 steps on this set of stairs. She swallowed and started up them, keeping her eyes at the top. Her hooves worked without her being aware of them. The thirteenth step had that little chip in its ridge; she noted it as she passed it. The higher she climbed, the lower her heart sank.

She stopped once she reached the top.

A lonely mare lay splayed about in the center of the mount, fitted with a collar that was chained to the ground. The alicorn mare’s dark grey coat sported several dirty splotches here and there and her long and unkempt silver hair lay flat across the ground.

She didn’t stir, even as Celestia sucked in a breath. In fact, she showed no signs of life; her eyes remained eternally closed and her body remained eternally motionless.

But Celestia knew better. The mare she now stared at was very much alive in the physical sense. And yet that was the only part Celestia could say had not died.

Celestia’s eyes drew toward the mare’s eyes in particular and she noted the discolored streaks running down the face. Those had been there the past few times Celestia had come by. They, however, seemed fresh.

Her own eyes felt heavy and Celestia sniffed. She never liked coming to this place. She had once seen this mare in a much livelier manner. The whole affair had transpired over only a scant few days, but she remembered meeting her own alternate selves, she remembered attempting to save a race of ponies she had never known existed before; she remembered them clinging to the last fringes of life and then losing their grips. She had watched that all happen.

The mare before her never saw it—Celestia thanked the stars above for that—but had certainly known it had happened.

Celestia’s thoughts drifted to Twilight, who she wondered if there would ever be a time where she would find the strength to come down here. That day would probably not come for a long while, she decided.

After wiping some rogue drops off of her face, Celestia solemnly shook her head and turned. She trotted down the stairs, not daring to look back.

Sunset Shimmer knew that where she was at this moment was in a dream. That was about as much as she knew.

She was still human, but the cavern she stood in definitely had to be in Equestria. She knew that from the alicorn stallion standing in front of her. The stallion’s dark coat and silvery mane reminded Sunset of an alicorn mare she had once known.

The cavern itself was just slightly bigger than the chamber underneath Canterlot, and could probably hold it, although it was hard to judge when the crystalline ceiling was so jagged and uneven and didn’t even follow a proper curve.

That said nothing of the large structures that took up the space. Monolithic structures made of smooth and shiny rock stretched toward the ceiling. Their faces hosted large, bioluminescent circuits that brightened and dimmed in some sort of rhythm. In some, however, she could see energy moving through them and even across what looked like vines connecting the rock formations.

She wondered if this was a technology that she didn’t recognize.

Her eyes fell on the alicorn stallion as he approached an object made of the same sort of yellowish stone that made up the chamber underneath Canterlot. It even had the same sort of symbols etched into its face in the same exact way, even glowing a lavender in the same way. But it was only a pedestal at this point.

The stallion gazed at a hemispherical depression in its top and then lit his horn and levitated over a crystal ball. This crystal ball appeared to be completely ordinary; it didn’t contain any images and emitted no sounds. He slotted the crystal ball into the depression and then took a couple of steps back.

A rainbow wave emanated through the pedestal’s many symbols, all converging on the crystal ball. And then the four largest of the monolithic rock formations throughout the cavern (or, specifically, their bioluminescent circuits) lit up like Hearth’s Warming trees as the energies within coursed through them at higher rates. Some magical sparks flew off of them, striking the pedestal containing the crystal ball with pronounced claps.

Sunset remained facing it despite every ounce of willpower she poured into turning around and retreating. Her body simply did not obey her commands.

And then the pillars shot out high-intensity beams into the crystal ball. A sharp crackling accompanied each beam and, with the way them hitting the crystal ball shook the chamber around her, Sunset figured they had to be carrying a few kilothaums of magical energy with them.

Sunset looked across the way and noticed the stallion’s body fizzling in and out of existence during the entire process, seemingly in time with the rainbow waves in the pedestal. He, however, looked unperturbed by it all.

The crystal ball emanated a brilliant white light that blinded the chamber and everything in it. Sunset heard an ear-shattering screech.

And then the chamber grew silent and still once more.

Sunset blinked and glanced at the stallion on the other side of the pedestal who seemed no worse for wear. She then looked at the crystal ball. The crystal ball showed an image of the very same chamber, complete with most of the structures within; it, however, currently lay deserted.

Sunset heard a shriek behind her and it was only then that her body allowed her to turn around.

A large, rainbow-colored barrier separated the area of the back wall from the rest of the chamber, sustained by some strange vine-like entities that stretched across its surface. The region between the barrier and the back wall had this liquid-like substance filling it that Sunset couldn’t recognize (but it was, nonetheless, as equally rainbow as the barrier itself).

And then Sunset spotted an entity floating in that fluid; an entity she had seen in her previous dream and many of the dreams before that. She saw a monstrously large blob of black slime, sporting a red light in the middle of its mass. The slime spazzed, expanding and contracting and otherwise slamming into both the back wall and the barrier.

Sunset felt her heart stop. She knew exactly what it was.

The Nameless.

The entire world faded out and Sunset suddenly found herself laying in what felt like a bed. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but she currently lay facing toward a blue ceiling. Her gaze flicked left and right; a wall took up her right side but the floor to her left gave way to a larger room beyond, with a stairway winding down. A string of lights wrapped around the balcony railing.

It was her apartment. Sunset lay her head back against the pillow, knowing she had woken up.

Sunset trudged through the halls of Canterlot High. Several students stood about, sharing their usual gossip. Many spoke in lowered tones which all but evaporated as she passed through. Many looked, wearing frowns as she passed by. Sunset kept her eyes forward, however, inwardly thanking them for not prying too much.

But they knew about the situation. The stunt in the courtyard had ensured that.

Sunset adjusted her jacket and pressed on. She turned a corner and pressed through another hall. She spotted an open doorway which happened to open to her destination and she walked at a brisk pace toward it. On entering the yearbook room, however, she immediately ran into a girl just inside the doorway and both her and Sunset fell to the floor.

“Ow!” Sunset yelped. She clutched and her behind which had hit the hardest.

The green-haired girl in front of her similarly massaged her backside before snarling. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” she barked.

Sunset looked up. “Sorry. I should have been paying more attention.”

The girl sighed and searched the ground. She located an egg-shaped stone on the ground next to her and snatched it up. She then climbed to her feet.

Sunset also climbed to her feet and then examined the girl in full. Her unkempt green hair and green skin made her look like a plant. The yellow-brown sweater and blue jeans completed her look. “Uh, hi. Are you… here because you’re interested in joining the yearbook committee?”

The girl didn’t even bat an eye. “I’m already on the yearbook staff. I have been for the past year,” she said.

Sunset flinched. “…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Sunset dusted herself off and then held out a hand. “Uh, I’m Sunset Shimmer. But… you probably already know that,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“Wallflower Blush,” she said, shaking Sunset’s hand. Her expression remained unchanged.

Sunset blushed. “Wallflower Blush, huh? Wow, and you’ve been on the yearbook staff. I’m sorry, I can’t believe I wouldn’t have known about you until now.”

Wallflower shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m pretty forgettable,” she said as she passed by and placed the stone in her backpack on the counter. She then hunched over some documents in the corner of the room.

Sunset stared for a few seconds more and then signed before walking to the island in the center of the room. She placed her own backpack on it and then, taking a seat on the stool, she turned her attention to the crystal ball sitting in the middle.

The crystal ball showed the student’s tower. Specifically, the study area. The window, once broken, had been replaced. The hourglass, which Sunset had once thrown out of the room, had not been. The floor was so very bare now.

Sunset frowned and shook her head. Good going, Sunset, she thought.

Inside the ball, the westerly shadows indicated a late afternoon time.

She narrowed her eyes. But what time is it exactly? she thought.

She tapped her fingers against the desk and then reached into her backpack and pulled out a book and a pen. The book’s cover contained half of her sunny cutie mark and half of Twilight Sparkle’s star-patterned cutie mark. She opened to the first blank page that she could find.

Her stare flip-flopped between the book and the ball. Finally, she took hold of the ball and let a single word flash across her mind: Forward.

The view obeyed, steadily moving toward the floor. It then passed into the living area where a clock hung from a nearby wall. But not only did the clock show a time that was more an evening time, but the second hand seemed to be ticking by too quickly.

Sunset sat back in her seat and blew a raspberry. “Right,” she spat.

Wallflower picked up a few of the papers that she had been working with and then walked over, coming to a stop on the other side of the island. “Hmmm?”

“I’m trying to find a clock,” Sunset said. She sat back in her seat and flung a hand at the ball. “But that one there is running fast. It’s totally not on the right time.”

After a moment’s consideration, Wallflower crossed her arms. “You could… maybe try some other room where you know there’s a clock for sure?”

Sunset glanced up at that, considered Wallflower’s words, and then nodded. The view moved forward, through the wall, and then raced across the castle grounds. It then went into Celestia’s room at the top of the tallest tower. The room itself hosted a sprawling velvet bed which faced an unlit fireplace. Patterns of a night sky patterned the walls, completed by a tapestry depicting a shooting star. A small tree with a mirror shard hanging off of it and a wooden perch for a large bird blocked the sunlight that streamed through the room’s large window.

Sunset frowned. There had to be a clock somewhere.

Wallflower suddenly pointed into the ball. “There! On that wall.”

Sunset turned the ball around. Sure enough, a wall-mounted clock hung from a wall near an archway to the adjacent room. It counted each second with a pronounced ticking noise, although the ticks seemed shorter than a second. This time, however, seemed much more reasonable.

Sunset chuckled and looked up. “Thanks.”

Wallflower smiled in return. “Let me know if you need anything else.” As she stood up and headed toward a computer on the of the wall-flush counters, Sunset turned her gaze to the book in front of her. She took hold of the pen and began writing.

Twilight? Do you have a clock handy?

With that written, Sunset placed her hands on the crystal ball again and willed the view closer to the clock. She then read the time.

Some text appeared in her journal. Yes. Why?

Tell me what time it has, Sunset wrote.

There was a pause. And then, I have 9:57 a.m., Sunset.

Sunset thought about that time for a moment. She muttered a curse word under her breath. And then she wrote back, I’m looking at a clock through the crystal ball. I’ve got 5:59 p.m. So the offset is 8 hours and 2 minutes.

More text appeared in her journal. That’s pretty large. But at least we can quantify it now, the writing said.

Sunset turned back to the ball. The clock still audibly ticked on. The pendulum in its lower half kept pace with the ticks but both still seemed a little faster than what was to be expected.

Her jaw twitched as she considered the scene.

Sunset turned back to her journal and wrote back. I’m going to write back in a few hours and check on this again. I might have a hunch on what’s causing the desync.

A few moments later, Okay.

Sunset sighed and rested her elbows on the island. Her head fell into her hands and she sat there for several moments. This was the most she had spoken to Twilight in the couple days since coming back. That told her everything about how far the situation had progressed. And time was still running out.

The thought prompted her to tap her foot. She needed things to happen already. She knew what would happen if nothing happened.

Sunset looked up. “Wallflower Blush?”

Wallflower turned. “Yeah?”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Wallflower frowned. “Uh, sure.”

Sunset shifted in her seat. “I’ve been asking a few people here and there. I’m trying to get a sense of what people think. Just… hypothetically… say that you were faced with a choice of sacrificing yourself in exchange for saving thousands or millions of lives. What would you do?”

Wallflower drummed her fingers against the desk. Her mouth swished from side to side as she thought. “You mean, like what Princess Twilight did the first time she went up against that thing?”

After a pause, Sunset nodded. “Yeah. What would you do?”

Wallflower crossed her arms and hummed thoughtfully.

Sunset frowned. She had an idea of what answer she was going to get already. She had asked several others this question already.

“It seems like the logical thing to do,” the voice of her world’s Twilight said in her head.

“We can only hope that one has the strength to make that sacrifice,” Principal Celestia’s voice also said.

Wallflower shook her head. “I don’t know if I could do that. I mean, it sounds to me like Princess Twilight didn’t hesitate to put down her own life. But I’m not Princess Twilight.”

Sunset leaned forward in anticipation for whatever Wallflower would say next.

Wallflower jammed her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth. She eventually sighed. “I’m not good enough to do something like that. But I guess… if there was something to do, and that was the thing that would save everyone… then that’s the thing to do.”

And Sunset sat back in her seat and sighed.

Princess Luna trotted up the chamber rings. This chamber, like most of the others but unlike her own, lacked the magical energies within its many symbols (leaving them with a glassy appearance), leaving the chamber in a dim white light.

Several guardsponies took up positions around the room. They each spent time examining the symbols in the now-exposed sides of the rings. They jotted down the symbols and made periodic trips toward the central pillar with a lone mare consulted a translation book before compiling the writings and their translations into a single journal. The earth pony mare in question adjusted her large square glasses and wrote with due diligence.

Luna smiled. This particular Raven had seen Nightmare Moon’s short reign in her own timeline, but thankfully she didn’t shy away in her presence.

Luna continued up the rings before finally reaching the top. The double doorways to this chamber remained completely open, allowing her to pass right through. A few more ponies milled about a makeshift camp here, with a few quietly eating some soup, served fresh out of a nearby flaming pot. The chef sat back for the moment and admired his work.

After taking a moment to chuckle to herself, Luna made her way toward the open portals at the far side of the camp. There were two of them, one on each wall; there were two of them in all of the other chambers too, linking the eight Equestrias together like a chain.

She stepped through the one on the right and emerged into another Equestria. The Nameless’ chamber and entryway looked much like the one she had just come from. This was not the one she wanted, however. So she stepped through the adjacent portal and emerged into the next reality.

The chamber beyond, unlike the others, had a lavender glow to it. That told her that she was in her home reality.

She backtracked toward the chamber now. A sort-of makeshift camp also spread across the entryway but everypony was in the chamber itself. She spotted eight of them in the chamber. The four non-unicorns among them—Flash Magnus, Somnambula, Rockhoof, and Mage Meadowbrook—spent their time simply examining the structures within the chamber, up to and including the central pillar itself. Three of the four unicorns meanwhile—Sunburst, Mistmane, and Starswirl—ran their magic over the walls.

Stygian, the last of them, looked up at Luna from amidst his pile of papers and books and she stood up. “Princess Luna,” he greeted.

“Hello, Stygian. How goes things?” she asked.

Stygian glanced at his comrades in the chamber. “Well, we have found some things, but…” He shook his head and chuckled. “Nothing we really want to talk about just yet.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “But are you making progress?”

Stygian initially opened his mouth to speak but then caught Starswirl looking over at them from across the chamber. He motioned Starswirl over with his hooves before turning back to Luna. “Of course. We’ll have something definite soon, I’m sure.”

Luna glanced about Stygian’s spot and even bent down to examine a scrap of paper laying on top of the books. She regarded it with a thoughtful hum and then set it back down. “Well, I should hope so. Because the clock is ticking and I would rather have more time than less.”

“Of course,” Stygian replied with an affirmative nod.

“I would think, given that, you might be down in the chamber with the others.”

“Ah, you know,” Stygian said, “my magic is not as good as theirs. So here I am, keeping the surveys across the Equestrias organized.”

“And, on that front, Stygian has been doing a phenomenal job,” Starswirl said with a smile as he trotted up.

Stygian beamed with pride and then turned to Starswirl. “Thanks. I’m just glad I have a little bit of recognition.”

Luna pointed toward the chamber. “Pray tell what it is that you are all working on now?”

“Well, Twilight Sparkle already did all of the transcribing and translation work for this chamber,” Starswirl explained. “So, while the other Equestrias are trying to catch up, we have moved onto getting concrete readings on the chamber’s inner workings.”

“We will need it if we want to know how it detected this Nameless fragment and reverse-engineer it for ourselves,” Stygian added.

“Right,” Luna replied.

Starswirl cleared his throat. “However, I am still not convinced that repeating this transcription and translation process in the other timelines is nothing but a waste of time.”

Stygian raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Simply the fact that these are the same chambers just in different timelines. They should not be different to any degree. What the chamber says in this Equestria should be what it says in all of the Equestrias.”

Stygian’s expression swished back and forth. He then nodded. “Yes. I think I see that. Princess Luna…”

Luna shook her head. “That’s what logic should dictate, yes. But we cannot be sure.”

Starswirl snorted. “I can believe that if you told me that the Equestrias were entirely symmetric up until Starlight Glimmer diverged them. But if you want to suggest that the chambers are actually asymmetric…”

“If Sunset Shimmer is to be believed, this asymmetry is already there as these chambers are explicitly aware of each other. And that these eight chambers lead to one single seal,” Luna countered. “She deduced that much the last time she was here.”

Starswirl’s features tensed up. “Forgive me if I don’t so readily accept mere theory,” he said with a biting tone.

Luna smirked. She knew the look on his face was about to disappear. “And yet, her deductions are supported by what we actually observed during that time.”

And, just like that, some color disappeared from his expression. “Hmph… well… then there must be some foul magic afoot to explain this non-divergence.”

Stygian hid a chuckle underneath his foreleg.

Luna rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the collection of documents that Stygian had been sitting in, hoping to spark a different conversation off of one of them. “Anyway,” she began, “is there a transcription anywhere in here? I should like to see it for myself.”

Stygian nodded and lit his horn, lifting a book up from where he had been sitting. “I’ve been compiling the master information in this. It’s our sort-of bible for this issue,” he said as he presented it to Luna. “Twilight’s work is in the very front.”

Luna opened the first page and started reading. She read it over again but, this time, her features scrunched as she stared into it. The look on her face prompted Starswirl and Stygian to exchange glances.

“Something about this bothers me,” Luna declared.

Some heads in the chamber glanced up.

Stygian tilted his head. “Really?” he asked with a curious tone.

Luna held up the book for them to see. “Yes. The text starts out with ‘This is the seal for the Nameless.’ Can you confirm that it’s actually this that it says?”

Starswirl nodded. “That is indeed what it says. We checked.”

Stygian laughed. “It’s as Twilight Sparkle transcribed it. And I do not think she would be the type to make mistakes on things like this.”

Luna nodded. “Yes. I am convinced that how it is written here is how it is written in the seal. And that’s why I am very troubled,” she said as she watched the other ponies within the chamber making their way up to their position.

Stygian slowly nodded but nonetheless blinked. His pursed expression was a study in befuddlement. “Well… this is the Nameless’ chamber. What’s so wrong about that?”

Luna shuddered. “The Nameless was what we decided to call it because we did not know what else to call it by. That nomenclature is our own invention.”

Color drained from both of their faces at that moment.

Luna tilted her head and asked, “So… why is it that this thousands of years-old chamber refers to it by that modern-day name?”

The rest of the ponies arrived at that moment but they already threw wide-eyed surprise between each other as they approached. Stygian and Starswirl went similarly wide-eyed and exchanged glances.

And Starswirl eventually voiced it with a very shaky, “Uhm…”

Sunset pulled the door closed, but not before taking one last look at her classmates still struggling with Miss Harshwhinny’s quiz, and not before she took one last look at Miss Harshwhinny herself who sat filling out paperwork at the desk at the front of the room.

Checking to make sure it clicked, Sunset turned and started down the hall. With classes in session, these halls now lay empty. The probability that she would see a single soul was actually very low.

She continued onward at her brisk pace, cutting every corner as closely as she could.

And then, as she rounded into another hall, she spotted Principal Celestia coming from the opposite direction.

And it was Celestia who spoke first. “Sunset Shimmer? What are you doing outside of class?”

Sunset cleared her throat. “I finished Miss Harshwhinny’s quiz early and asked if I could check on the crystal ball. I’m heading to the yearbook room.” Sunset took a few more steps forward. And then she looked over her shoulder. “Do you want to see?”

Celestia’s expression shifted this way and that as she considered it. And then she finally shrugged. “I guess. Under normal circumstances, I would have you go straight back.” She turned as Sunset reached her and then joined her.

“Principal Celestia, do you think I’m crazy for thinking that this thing with the crystal ball and what’s going on with the Nameless fragment might be related somehow?”

Celestia shook her head. “Not at all. I would not be surprised. However… how exactly that is is something else entirely.”

Sunset nodded as they rounded a corner. “Yeah, I know. I don’t think I’m going to be able to figure that out from here.” She looked up at Celestia and said, “I have a hunch on what’s causing the desync in the crystal ball, but…” She sighed. “If I’m right about this, then I’ll have even more questions.”

“And your hunch is?”

“Well, you’ll see,” Sunset said as she reached into her pockets and fished out a set of keys.

They rounded one last corner and spotted the closed door to the yearbook room. On reaching it, Sunset unlocked the door and the two stepped inside. Sunset flipped the light switch as they entered the room and then immediately took the stool at the island. Celestia came up and stood right beside her.

Sunset first picked up the pen and wrote into the journal, Twilight, are you there?

As she waited for a response, Sunset turned her attention to the crystal ball. Princess Celestia’s bedroom lay in darkness, lit only by the now-lit fireplace. The wall-clock still ticked on at its slightly rapid pace and, thankfully, its face was still somewhat painless to see.

On a whim, Sunset rotated the ball itself. The view rotated with it until the room’s velvet bed came into view. Princess Celestia sat there lacking her usual regalia. Her mane still flowed in an ethereal wind but with more abandon than usual. She sat contented over a book.

Sunset chuckled and then glanced at Principal Celestia for her reaction.

Principal Celestia’s eyes were practically filled with stars. “Is that…” she wheezed as she leaned across the table. “Is that my counterpart?”

Sunset chuckled. “Yeah. That’s Princess Celestia, alright.”

“Wow…” Principal Celestia cooed.

Some writing appeared in Sunset’s journal. Yes, I’m here. I have 2:07 p.m. on my clock. Do you have 10:09 p.m.?

Sunset turned the ball back around so that she could see the clock. The time on the clock showed an hour and minute hand combination that looked unlike 10:09.

Sunset swore.

Celestia gasped. “Sunset!” she thundered.

Sunset flinched. “Sorry, sorry.” She swiveled to the journal and took a deep breath. No. I have 10:44 p.m. she wrote.

After a very lengthy pause, Twilight wrote back. What the hay?

Celestia leaned over the table to examine the writing, raising her eyebrow first at Twilight’s response before she scanned up the page. “Oh my, were you both expecting 10:09?”

“Yeah. Look at this,” she said, pointing toward her earlier conversation with Twilight. “The desync was 8 hours and 2 minutes earlier today. And now it’s…” Sunset tapped her finger against the desk while resting her head in her other hand. “8 hours and 37 minutes.”

Celestia blinked. After a long moment, she said, tentatively, “It’s running fast.”

Sunset’s hand automatically started on some calculations in the journal. Numbers flew off the ends of her fingertips as she feverishly wrote. This is… it looks like just shy of 5 hours in the crystal ball was a little over 4 hours for me. That’s 285 minutes passing in the crystal ball for every… 250 minutes here. Which is…

Sunset fished her phone out of her pocket and swiped toward the calculator app but she hadn’t even touched it before Twilight’s writing appeared at the bottom of the page. A single number.

Sunset reclined in her seat and wiped some sweat off her brow. “I was right. It’s running at one hundred and fourteen percent speed.”

Sunset and Celestia exchanged glances.

Twilight Sparkle stepped away from her chalkboard for the umpteenth time. Several mathematical equations took up the entirety of its face. She twirled a piece of chalk in her magical grasp but made no attempt at writing anything more with it.

Lines of rope swung across the library, hanging from bits of purple crystal that contrasted the castle’s typical blue crystal (as those purple ones were of her own magic). Several articles, mostly sheets of papers, although some were pictures, hung from those ropes. Bits of string spanned some of those articles.

She ran her eyes onto one of those threads and followed it around the room, muttering to herself in the process. Twilight scratched her head at a few points along the way. String after string, article after article, her attention danced around the room.

And she eventually and inevitably returned to the chalkboard. She collapsed with an exhausted groan.

Spike, who stood right by her, kicked at the floor. “Come on, Twilight. You’ve been staring at all this for like thirty minutes and haven’t got anything out of it. You wanna try something else?”

Twilight shook her head. “No. I think this is it. This is going to be what gets me a solution to this problem. I know it does.”

Spike deadpanned. “I don’t think so, Twilight.”

“I know that something has to come out of this. I know it!” Twilight gnashed her teeth together. “I just… can’t… see it!”

“Yeah, because it probably isn’t there,” Spike said.

Twilight gasped and twirled to face him. “Spike! I don’t know how you can say that! It’s there!”

Spike threw his claws into the air. “If it was, you would have seen it by now. I know you, Twilight. You’re really smart and you’re really good at this stuff and, you know, I’m just saying that if it’s not there, then it’s not there.”

After a moment’s pause, Twilight sighed. “Look, Spike, I appreciate the vote of confidence. But—”

Spike suddenly clapsed his claws over his mouth and, for a brief moment, looked green in the face. A second later, he burped, spitting out shreds of a green fire in the process. Said shreds coalesced into an object that took the form of a rolled-up scroll that then fell into his waiting claws.

Spike unfurled it. “It’s Princess Celestia’s reply,” he said.

Twilight nodded.

Spike cleared his throat.

“My dearest Twilight,

“Thank you very much for the report. I wonder how it is that this has happened to the crystal ball? I agree with your proposal that you should take more data points and confirm this time dilation. Let me know how it pans out.

“And if either of you find out anything else about it, please don’t hesitate to contact me again.

“Yours,
“Princess Celestia”

Spike rolled the letter up and looked back up at Twilight.

Twilight sighed through her nose and looked back up at the board. “Spike, look… I need this to work. I really need this to work.” She shook her head and turned back to her work. “But not just me.”

Spike crossed his arms. “Are you sure?”

Twilight nodded and smiled. “I’m sure. More than I’ve ever been,” she said.

Spike remained as he was, still staring at her with a certain scrutiny. That caused Twilight’s smile to eventually fade.

He eventually rolled his eyes. “I still think that Sunset could have helped us, you know,” he said simply.

Twilight’s smile faded but she nonetheless turned back toward her work. She didn’t even react when Spike turned and walked toward the doors. She said nothing when he passed through them, pulling them shut behind him.

And she shook her head. I wish, she thought.