"Hey, it's time to get up!"

"Mmmfff..." Sigrún muttered, moving a hoof to rub her eyes, forgetting a moment that the appendage would pass right through her socket and into the voided interior of her skull. Deciding not to comment on this, she removed her hoof and continued her griping. "Do we actually know what time it is?"

"...Day?" a male voice said.

Sigrún lifted her head and opened her eyes - though it would have been more accurate to say she turned them on. Where once there had been nothing but empty eye sockets there were now tiny pinpricks of orange flame, her equivalent to eyes. She looked at the source of the voice: a bruised unicorn with a messy mane in some tarnished gold armor that increased his stature at least twofold. A pair of rusted metallic wings lay at his sides. When she'd first met him, she'd thought the wings were real, but in reality, they were just artificial slats of metal that weren't all that good for agile flight.

"Yes. Day. Quite." Sigrún stood up, her bony unicorn body folly coalescing. While she slept the links in her knees and hips would break down, turning her into a pile of suspiciously clean bones. It always took a bit to get moving after she woke up - had to wait for the bones to snap into place.

"That can't be comfortable."

"Probably isn't. Can't exactly feel pain like this, though." Sigrún briefly wondered how she could feel at all, but decided not to dwell on it. "So, Forge, why am I up?"

Flowing Forge frowned. "You said you didn't want to stay here anymore. If we want to get out we should get moving."

Looking around, Sigrún took in their abode. A couple dirty, worn mattresses sitting in a hovel made from loose scrap metal of many different sizes and thicknesses. There was a single pack that held Forge's belongings - Sigrún had no possessions to put in such a pack.

She noticed Forge was getting out breakfast. He must have forgotten she couldn't eat again. She tried to frown, but all she could do is anxiously grind her teeth as she trotted out of the metallic hovel.

It would have been nice if she were able to take in the fresh air. But outside the junk spread out as far as the eye could see - mostly pieces of metal from unidentifiable structures, but there were a few plastics and fabrics mixed in here and there. It was a truly treacherous landscape filled with all sorts of sharp edges, loose debris, and uneven footing.

Luckily Sigrún was as skeleton and Forge had armor all over him. It kept them from having to worry about such things.

She trotted up the hill of metal they had built their little shelter into, reaching the top where a massive metal ring stood, marked with ancient glyphs all around the edge. It was through here that Forge had fled, bringing Sigrún with him.

...Well, Sigrún bones anyway. The spirit currently inhabiting the bones had entered them a few hours later.

A spirit named Jennifer Glasglow. Not that anyone would ever know that. Names had power, after all. She'd just taken the name Sigrún because it had been the previous owner of the bones. Now that she thought about it, taking the name of a dead unicorn whose bones you were currently using was probably morbid and tactless... but Forge hadn't complained. In fact... he'd seemed hopeful.

"...Darnit, he probably thinks she's in here somewhere," Sigrún sighed. "That can't end well..."

She glanced at the circular portal once more. Broken, not that Forge had wanted to fix it. The world on the other side was apparently wartorn and helpless, even worse than the abandoned metal junkyard they found themselves in. Sigrún was not in any rush to discover what lay on the other side.

Still... she had to admit she was curious as to how it worked. Maybe it had something to do with why her spirit was drawn to these bones? She didn't know.

With a sigh, she put a hoof on the portal's edge, tracing her bony hoof across the engravings. "It's been days... you're not coming, are you?"

She glanced at a metal plate on the ground, one she had scrawled a quick message onto the first day they arrived. Alex. I was here. I am fine. I am currently a skeleton. When they left, Sigrún was going to write down which way they went. Just in case Alex found out how to follow.

Follow a loose spirit fixed to a pile of bones from across worlds.

Laughable.

Turning her gaze to the sky, she noted there was a massive purple moon in the sky that looked a bit like a gas giant. Maybe it wasn't even a moon - maybe it was the planet and she was on the moon. Wouldn't that be a trick?

"It appears even other worlds have the same skies..." Forge said, trotting up to her. "Back home, the purple one is called Endesque."

"Wonder what it means..."

"Haven't the foggiest," Forge shrugged.

"So, where do we go?"

"Why not that way? The sun will set that direction, giving us the most daylight."

"Sure." Sigrún sighed, scrawling an additional note on the metal plate. It looked like she was doing it with her hoof, but in reality a small blue scorpion had appeared around her hoof and made the careful etchings for her. Forge could not see it, and she had not told him 'Serket' existed. "There's nothing for us here."

"Adventure?"

"An adventure's what got me in this mess. I could do with..." Sigrún trailed off, not sure what she could do with. Going home would be a good one, but she doubted that was an option.

"I will get you home," Forge promised, as if reading her thoughts.

"Thanks." You don't really mean that. You'll get HER home. Wherever that is for HER.

"Let's find a gate that still works." Forge pulled an amulet out of his pocket. "Not even the boundaries between worlds will stop us."

They came dangerously close to ruining everything...

Pinkie tried not to look at it, shivering. She focused instead on the screen that showed Sigrún and Forge.

Insisting she was from another world. Breaking the seal.

The skeleton and the armored pony moved across the wastes of metal.

But she is it. That's all I must listen to. Everything about him... the companion...

Pinkie glanced around at the various different screens, sensing all she could about them. Prodding... looking...

You seem determined to ignore my existence.

Pinkie forced her mind blank in order to keep it from reading her thoughts. This worked - it lost interest in her.

You precious little things... there will be no more influences from other worlds. All must come from within, as I decree. Poor Sigrún, never to be rescued. Poor Alex, to search the multiverse pointlessly. And poor, poor PINKIE.

Pinkie winced.

No reinforcements for you. You and whoever survived entry is it. How many were on that ship? Yes, nineteen, but how many survived?

"Enough."

Naturally. But enough for who? You? Me? Her? It laughed. I think you know.

Pinkie smirked. "What do I know? Lots of things, yeah, but that's like, pfft, nothing." She saluted the thing and jumped into one of the screens, appearing on the junkyard on the other side.

Ah, running to them? Wise. But it won't do much...

It's 'voice' faded away, and Pinkie was in the junkyard. Still injured, but not in danger of being frozen to death anymore. That was nice.

She just needed to find Sigrún and Forge and then get this show on the road. Shouldn't be too hard. She was in the same junkyard they were and everything! In fact, she was standing on top of...

...a giant spring trap.

"...Ponyfeathers."

The spring triggered and launched her so far into the air she became a pink speck in the sky, tossed far into the distance.

Far from those she was looking for.

"...What in Yiyxa's name is this?" Forge asked.

"It appears to be a giant spring," Sigrún observed.

"Why would anyone make a giant spring?"

"Just because they could?"

"I... I don't know."

"It has blood on it, maybe it was a trap?"

Forge fixed her with a 'seriously?' expression. "There's no way that's blood. It's too bright of a red. That looks like the blood a child would put in their edgy kindergarten drawing." He paused. "I miss kindergarten."

"Wh-"

"I mean I miss it being a thing. It hasn't been a thing back home in over a decade."

Sigrún frowned. "I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Yeah." He shook his head. "We can't stay here and gawk at this spring all day."

"Really? You were the surprised one."

"But we are losing daylight and we need to get out of this junk pile."

"I don't know. It could be important to figure out why there's a giant spring here. You never know."

Forge frowned. "...Sigrún..."

"Fine, fine, we can get going. Though... got anything I can use to sample this totally-not-blood?"

Forge pointed at a small, aged plastic container in the junk. It was still sealed, and empty. She scooped some of the red stuff into the container and sealed it once again. You never know when you might need mysterious candy-red liquid. "Right! Let's g- wait." She looked under the spring. "Is that a fully baked cupcake?"

Forge stared at it. "...It looks like it."

Sigrún dug out another plastic container and put the cupcake in. "For research."

"Not going to eat it?"

"A cupcake out in the middle of a junkyard? What do you think I am, crazy? ...don't answer that."

Forge smirked and led them down another hill of junk into the valley. Here was just as abandoned as everywhere else they had looked so far - no sign of pony habitation. Did the cupcake count as pony habitation signs? ...No, it was just too weird to make sense of.

As was the next thing they came across.

"What is that!?" Sigrún gasped.

Right, well, that seems to have gone... both well and not well. Hmm.

So, Sigrún exists for certain, and as far as I can tell everything you wrote directly about her is literally absolutely true. It looks like the answer to the question cannot be refused so long as it isn't contradictory in some way. Serket, her name, her bones, even the people she knew and the reason she's here.

Forge on the other hand... I'm not so certain.

What I'm going to call 'The Entity' seems not to like the idea of things of other worlds coming in. Looks as though it rejected everything you said along that line and future attempts to influence in that way will be denied.

I, unfortunately, do not know what it wants. Or even, really, what it is or why it's doing this. You notice how it never gets described, we only see what it says. I suspect that's specifically to throw me.

Speaking of me, hi, I'm Twilence, my origin story isn't important, stop trying to make it a big deal, kay? Suffice it to say I'm the conduit by which you are influencing this world.

Working together is still a requirement, but no longer can it be said that EVERY comment left will lead to something, or even most. There's just too many. Previously I had discouraged the use of forums and other sites to discuss these things, but now that I've seen how much of you are involved here... go right ahead. It's up to you how you want to organize it, just make sure you give what you come up with to me, eventually, through the comments section.

I may not appear in every chapter, since there may be no reason to. But I suspect I'll have reason to stay for the first few chapters while the chaos settles.

Also, those of you engaging in role-playing? I'm not telling you to stop. I'm merely telling you that while I cannot touch you, I do in fact know where your characters live.

Apologies to any who prefer subtlety in the words, the above is intended for all to see, and not all are quite so regal and wordy as thou.

On the topic of others, it seems you managed to do it effectively even if it was highly unexpected how you did so. Keep up the good work, but some of you could stand to be a bit more respectful to the others around you.

And yes, I can confirm, none of the backstory for myself or Pinkie matters all that much at this juncture. Homestuck's doesn't matter either unless you make it, I don't know why you all got set on that. (Serket the scorpion? Really?)

I'm sorry, that is a little uncalled for. You've done good so far, have given the world some of its color back. Thank you for sticking through it for a week.

I can't wait to see what you'll do next.

Author's Notes:

What is Sigrún looking at?