It was incredibly dark, and that wasn't right. It was just after noon when she'd cast the spell, Gryphos wouldn't be dark yet and she couldn't see stars. They were in a box, a cramped one at that. Twilight Sparkle wiggled and managed to pull free of the pile that was her friends, mentor, and mentor's sister. A moment later her friends followed, each one groaning lightly. Twilight turned and addressed the pile of ponies.

“Is everypony alright?”

There came a slightly blurb of yeses, yeahs, and an “uh huh” signaling that they were indeed fine. With a small sigh, Twilight turned back around and lit up her horn. The illumination revealed that the small room was mostly occupied by a bed about the size of the ones in the royal chambers in Canterlot, and some kind of dark colored box on a wooden stand at the foot of said bed. A moment later something brushed across the purple unicorn's head, causing her to turn her attention to the other side of the room. A light blue color was floating near a door, wings beating almost silently keeping it aloft.

“Rainbow,” Twilight began, but was suddenly cut off by her friend.

“I think I found the lights,” she said, some what triumphantly.

There was a soft click and a bulb above their heads filled the room with somewhat poor light. Celestia's student sighed and rubbed her face with a hoof. The room could have had anything in it, traps possibly, and Rainbow Dash, the cyan coated, rainbow maned pegasus had flipped the only switch in the room. Twilight Sparkle counted herself lucky they weren't dead, and made a quick note of everypony. Obviously, Rainbow Dash was fine, the pegasus chuckling and smiling sheepishly at her friend's undisguised irritation.

Turning around, Twilight found her friends exploring the small environment. Rarity, the whited coated, purple maned, fashion oriented, unicorn was staring aghast at the room's total blandness. Even the generally tame purple unicorn had to admit the room was eerie. Nothing on the walls, no windows, just the bed, box, and a desk with a few objects scattered on it.

The aptly named Pinkie Pie was staring at her reflection on the box at the foot of the bed. Apparently the front was made of glass, and the bubbly pink pony was making faces and giggling at her self as she did so. Twilight took heart in the fact that at the very least it kept the party pony out of trouble for a while.

“Hey, Twi! Come look at this,” Applejack, the tan, blond maned, farm pony said. She had opened a pair of doors and pulled out some very strange looking clothes. What ever information Twilight had hoped to gleam from personal affects was suddenly lost at the sight of the clothes. The shape was completely foreign to both her and Rarity, and the size suggested a fairly large creature. Each article coming in a top and bottom set.

“A better question than taste and design, though those certainly come into question, is, what needs this much clothing?” Rarity asked aloud, sparking her friend's curiosity.

Turning back around, Twilight found Luna atop the large bed, seemingly testing it. Celestia was eying her sister with a level of amusement, and exasperation. Behind them, however, curled up in the corner in a tight ball, was Fluttershy. The light yellow pegasus had her face hidden behind her long pink mane, and was whispering something almost inaudibly. As Twilight drew closer the words became more clear, and her heart steadily broke.

“I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home,” Fluttershy half chanted over and over.

Twilight, the personal student of Celestia, Element of Magic, and generally all around good unicorn, had to resist the urge to break down at this. It quickly sunk in what had happened. Her spell had gone wrong, but this time it wasn't some minor mistake, a little chemical explosion or ripping the page out of a book accidentally. This mishap had placed not only her life, but the lives of her friends, mentor and ruler, in possibly mortal peril. Slowly, she sunk down next to the pegasus and wrapped a foreleg around her in a gentle hug.

Standing back up and facing the collected group, all of Twilight's frustrations came to a head. All of her calculations, preparations, and studies meant nothing now. She had messed up somewhere, and no matter how much she thought on it she could not figure out where. The numbers added up, the theory was more than sound, it was time tested. This one time, however, everything went wrong for seemingly no reason.

“I just don't know what went WRONG!” She shouted, stomping a hoof to punctuate her uninhibited frustration.

The next moment it seemed as though time froze. The door on the far side of the room from Twilight burst open, revealing a large bipedal creature, about as tall as Celestia, its features contorted in a look of rage. Twilight suddenly registered the possibility that they were, inadvertently, invading another creatures home. Any chance at rationalization was lost, however, when the group caught sight of a blade. It was armed.

Celestia turned her full attention to the creature, her face hard. She subtly prepared a spell to disarm the beast, but at the last second it looked at its weapon, then quickly tossed it aside and slammed the door shut. The princess' mouth dropped in astonishment. Somehow, it knew what she was going to do. The white alicorn shared a look with her deep blue sister. A look of worry and slight fear.

He kicked the blanket off him and groggily rose from the bed. A look at his vastly out dated cell phone told him he'd slept less than 5 hours. He'd closed his laptop around two in the morning, and it was just after six. Muttering curses to himself, Pete Powell made his way out of his small sleeping quarters and into the main of his apartment. The whole thing was one large open space with a relatively high ceiling. The general shape of the place being a giant U, with the main living space being the bottom, and the kitchen and bed room occupying the opposite tips of the U. He crossed the living area and entered into the small bathroom that existed a ways below the kitchen, and showered. Toweling off, the young man looked himself over. His flat and impossible to style dark brown hair was getting overly long, the sides covering his ears slightly and his bangs hanging in his face. His glasses were still somewhat fogged up, which caused him no end of irritation, and made him opt to forgo shaving his slight stubble. Of course, there were still the scars.

Tossing his dirty clothes and towel into the hamper he used for such a purpose, he exited the bathroom and turned right towards his kitchen. Then his dilemma happened. He was hungry, but getting to the kitchen meant crossing the gratuitous amount of sunlight that was starting to pour in through the French doors on the opposite side of the living space. Chuckling slightly to him self about how that was the biggest first world problem anyone could ever have, Pete crossed the room and had some breakfast. A breakfast of left over supper, tacos to be precise, before returning to his dark, dark room.

Casually, Pete considered getting back to work. He made his living as an online editor, proof reading about a dozen things every couple of days and making an above average profit out of it. The job kept Pete from having to leave his home very often, something that called out to the young hermit. People had never been his favorite thing, and now that he was a college graduate he had to deal with very few. College itself had been a hellish time for him, and he was glad to be done with it. Even these past two years out of it hadn't improved his attitude towards it. His experience with people had always been poor, and it had given him a very cynical view of the world. Friends turned into enemies at the drop of a hat, friendships lost over petty things, and in more than one case he'd been essentially booted from groups after the few friends he'd had became enamored with a new person that didn't like him.

Pushing away from his computer and exiting his bedroom, Pete acknowledged that he needed to get out of the house. Slipping into his casual all black wear, including jacket, the 25 year old grabbed his keys and made his way to the streets below. His combination of tired and reflective had come close to ruining his mood. He wasn't in a great mood to start with, and the sleep deprivation wasn't helping. The general bustle of the North Dakota city soothed him though. Being surrounded by people that barely even acknowledged his existence, let alone cared enough to spite him, eased him slightly.

Walking with the crowds, he made his way to a barber shop he frequented, getting his hair trimmed back down to a less intrusive length. Afterwards he took a bus to the area mall and killed a solid hour chatting with one of the cashiers at the Gamestop. Beck, the cashier, was possibly the closest thing Pete had to a friend, both twenty somethings had a vast knowledge of the gaming world, and could often talk for hours about it. Though Pete had to admit that Beck had an actual passion for the stuff, while Pete felt much more like a hobbyist.

Ultimately picking up nothing but a resurgent case of depression at his lack of drive, Pete took the slow bus back home. His phone read just after one in the afternoon when he stepped off the elevator to his top floor apartment. With his usual depressed, and somewhat surly silence, he unlocked his front door and tossed his jacket aside. Then a chill went up his spine. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and adopted a semi crouched position. He could feel that he wasn't alone. Cursing himself for forgetting his usual pocket knife, he made his way to the kitchen, sparing a quick glance to his right first making sure the bathroom was empty.

Finding the kitchen was just as deserted, he swore. His bedroom was the only other place. Pete pulled open a drawer full of cutlery and picked up a knife. It was a long kitchen knife, half dull, but with a solid five inch blade. He moved swiftly towards his room, then stopped as he drew near. He could hear voices, female voices. They sounded... confused? Then, suddenly, they stopped. All was quiet, and Pete tensed up, reaching slowly for the door knob.

“I just don't know what went WRONG!”

Pete froze. Tara Strong? Now he was confused, that didn't make any sense. Then, it maybe did. Was someone on his laptop? Browsing through his files and accidentally stumbled upon his collection of the Friendship is Magic series? Why would they turn it on? What would possess them to click that? Anger pushing inside himself, Pete decided the best option was confrontation. In a single movement he threw the door open and looked inside. His eyes slowly crawled over the room. Ponies. Real life, completely nonfictional ponies. Specifically the Elements of Harmony and the royal Princesses.

Everything stopped. Pete stared at the ponies and vice versa. It wasn't until Celestia stepped forward, her horn glowing, that Pete snapped out of it. Realizing he was standing armed in front of creatures with magical powers, he tossed the knife off to the side, and quickly slammed the door shut behind him. His back against the door, Pete stared at the south wall of his apartment directly opposite him, stunned. The dream of every brony was sitting less than five feet away from him, and he was too busy losing his mind.

“Oh, sweet Luna,” he muttered exasperatedly, only for a “Yes?” to echo from behind the door.

The human slammed both his hands into his face. Despite having just seen the mare herself moments ago, he'd somehow managed to convince himself he hadn't. He spent a few minutes slapping himself repeatedly muttering “wake up” under his breath before he was finally convinced he wasn't dreaming. Immediately following there was a knock from the other side of the door, causing him to tense up, and painfully dig his fingernails into his palms.

“Excuse me,” the voice of Celestia called, summoning to Pete's mind images of the white alicorn and her ever flowing colored mane. “We mean you no harm, and apologize for the intrusion. We would like to find out where we are, and return to our home as soon as possible.”

Pete had long been a fan of the multiverse theory, and that left him with a very dark possibility. Just because they looked like the ponies from the show, it didn't mean they were. For all he knew, they could be evil. Which of course made his plan utter crap, but he was banking very hard on the “mane six” to still be the correct bearers for their Element of Harmony, particularly, Applejack.

“I'll let you out, on one condition,” he waited a beat, “I need to hear from … Applejack, that no pony is going to hurt me.”

He internally facepalmed at saying “no pony” out loud in real life, and waited for a response. Nearly a full minute passed as he stared at the wall across from him, quiet deliberations going on beyond the door behind him. A slight worry filled him, but eventually a voice called out.

“Why me?” the southern accented pony asked.

Pete gulped, “What's your Element of Harmony?”

A pause. “Honesty,” she finally responded.

“Right, so if you say that I'm not getting hurt...” He left it hanging, he was feeling implausible as it was. He didn't feel like elaborating further, though he was sure they got the gist.

“Alright, I promise,” she said after another minute of quiet talking between the mares.

Standing up and shaking slightly, Pete turned around and slowly opened the door, letting the ponies out. With the door open the collective of mares looked at him, each one eying various parts of him, hands, head, torso, legs most notably. Finally, he slowly backed away, letting them exit the room.

Rainbow Dash was the first out, stretching her wings and chuckling slightly at the high ceiling of the apartment. Next came Rarity, the white coated mare steadily becoming more shocked at the surroundings the more she saw. Twilight was next, though her attention continually drifted back to the human. Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and the princesses were last, each going in different directions.

As he watched them all file out, Pete felt the darkness in his stomach that had been eating at him all day peak in ways he'd never felt before. Having been a fan of the Friendship is Magic era of My Little Pony, Pete had found Equestria to be a magical idealistic place. If not free of war and hate, at least much better about it. His contact with humans had rubbed him raw from a young age, and the more he learned about history, the wars, the reasons, the stupidity, it made him jaded. A part of him hated the pastel ponies in front of him, spared the things he knew, the things that happened sometimes right outside his building.

Yet another part cried out against that one, rejoicing in their arrival. How many fanfics had he read about ponies taking a human with them to Equestria? This was the dream, right in front of him, this was the typical brony dream. His hatred of them, and his new level of self loathing caused him to back into the far corner of the room, curling up with his head on his knees in shock.

It didn't take long before this caught the attention of Celestia. In fact, her eyes hadn't left the human since they'd emerged from the room. She gently stepped over to him, stopping a few feet away, the sunlight from the doors to her right reflecting off her white coat like a spotlight on Pete's misery. She watched him now, up close, and was almost astonished at his reaction. He was watching with blank eyes at what most would consider almost invaders in their home. He made no move to speak to them, stop them, anything. The human was playing dead, hoping they would ignore him and move on.

“Surely you don't find us dangerous still,” she asked him curiously.

“No,” Pete responded monotone, “I just... I … I can't.”

“Can't what?” Twilight asked, stepping up next to her mentor.

“I... you all CAN'T be real. Where I'm from, HERE, you're a-a cartoon. A child's show that a bunch of adults started watching for lots of different reasons. Now here you are, all … real and stuff and...” Pete put his face in his hands, “Oh hell, I'm dead aren't I?”

By this point the rest of the ponies had gathered around the corner of the room and were now looking at each other in confusion. There was a tense silence that not even Pinkie felt comfortable breaking. It was Celestia that finally did, her aim for more information.

“Why would you be dead, human?”

“Because,” Pete began, head still in his hands, “If I'm not dead then that means this is real and if you're all real that means I've been sitting here in some crapsack world for 25 years.”

“It can't be all that bad,” Applejack said, looking out the French doors and at the city scape. The sun was making its way across the West sky in its afternoon travels, heading towards sunset. The light gleamed off the tall, glass buildings making parts of the city almost glow to the mares' eyes. “Ah mean, some of it looks a little dull but... can't be all bad.”

Pete looked up, and he snapped. Every single thing inside of him shattered into a million pieces, like a window pane being ripped apart by soundwaves. It blasted straight outward, assaulting anyone nearby. His shattering was a long winded hate speech about the darkest natures of humanity. He let loose with everything he felt was wrong with the world, gave the darkest potential philosophies he could remember, covered every war, ever reason behind them, the people that started them, the people that still supported those ideals hundreds of years later. He spoke with a passion that he wished he felt anywhere else, and as he spoke the mares listened.

The gusto was taken from every last one of them, except Celestia who remained stoic from start to finish. Some of them almost fainted at hearing what people had done, and it gave Pete a sickening sense of satisfaction to see that on their faces. When he was done, though he didn't say it aloud, it was himself he hated most. He stood up on his closing line, and looked Celestia in the eyes, the only one that hadn't flinched under his barrage. She held firm, matching his gaze, and saw something in his eyes.

The Princess of the Sun had been around for thousands of years. She had seen many things, and what their unexpected host was suffering from was no different. He was angry, yes, but also heavily exhausted. The toll of their arrival, and perhaps other things, weighed heavily on his mind, and it was evident in his gaze. His pupils were dialated, his eyeballs themselves were slightly spasming, among other body signs that Celestia was familiar with. He was tired, dead tired. Part of her wondered if it was common for humans to function in this state, but his actions said otherwise. Thankfully, Celestia did not need to say anything.

With an irritated sigh, Pete broke eye contact and moved back towards the room the ponies had left, now identified as his bedroom thanks to context. “I'm going to bed,” he said as he moved past them, “Do whatever and leave. I don't care, just … just go.” His tone defeated, the human closed the door to his room, shutting off the light as he did, and laying down on his bed.

“... is it really that bad here?” Fluttershy almost squeaked.

Pete sighed, how could he have forgotten one of the most popular of the Elements?

“Yeah. It is. There's … there's some good in it, but there's a lot more evil. There's blatantly a lot more evil. People can be good, but with how many of us there are... it just doesn't suit our interests to be good consistently.”

Fluttershy rose and moved in the dark and quiet, Pete unaware of her movements until the door to his room opened. As an after thought he rolled over and faced the door as it was being closed.

“Hey,” Pete called. The door stopped, then opened a little. “Tell them not to go outside, okay? I don't like the idea of what could happen to them out there. I don't trust this world and I … I'd hate to hear that something bad happened to any of them because of it.”

Once more the door closed and Pete was left alone in the dark. Just the man and his thoughts. He laid back down and sighed heavily. A dream had become a nightmare. As he rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head, his mind chimed in with its own thoughts.

“Once upon a time, in the not so magical land of America, a man's heroes magically appeared in his house. Instead of treating them with kindness and respect like they'd taught him years ago, he got bitchy, left them alone, and will probably wake up to an empty house, and continue his hollow existence. Good job, asshole.”

“Brain,” he muttered aloud, “If I could stomach alcohol, I would KILL you with it.”