The Forgemaster left Twilight ranting about some disaster in the future, and how Future-Twilight came back to the past to warn her about what the disaster in the future would be like. Just like Future-Ninja-Him said, she's going to freak out over nothing... hopefully. He didn't put it past himself to dick around with him just as his Future-Self's Future-Self did to him as a form of cathartic revenge against himself, thereby creating an infinite number of dickings as each Future-Self dicked with their Past-Self who would eventually become the Future-Self and dick around with their version of the Past-Self, who would then become the Future-Self themselves and do to their specific Past-Selves exactly what their Future-Self did to their Present-Self.

He hated time travel, he always had.

Time travel spells had been invented by the human race in their gloriously magical past, and likely a few thousand years earlier than the pony race, but no one's judging... except for him. The Forgemaster fully acknowledged his racism against ponies, but quickly found that he enjoyed doing it far too much to change, and it was only mostly in good fun. Anyways, the funny thing about Time spells is that they were always overrode by the Big Man in charge, Father Time. He isn't actually a person, nor a deity, but the non-existent guy just really hates it when you mess with his time stream. So he invented paradoxes, or rather, didn't invent paradoxes but allow situations to resolve themselves which others have come to call paradoxes. Also, divergent time streams.

For instance: you go back in time to stop Event A. Because you stopped it, your Part-Self which lived through or knew of Event A has no reason to go back into the past and alter Event A. Due to the fact that no one is aware of what happens, the only logical assumption is that that time stream diverges into 2: one where Event A happened and one where Event A didn't happen. Alternatively, you could find that going back to the past causes Event A, or that your actions trying to stop or alter Event A led the event to what you remember it as being. Collectively known as the ultimate unintentional dicking by Father Time, or, paradoxes.

Complicated shit, time travel.

The Forgemaster didn't feel like getting caught in a never-ending circle of time-dickings, so he steered clear of Time-Travel wherever possible. Except for in the future, when he does not. However, this time paradox is relatively simple. All he had to do is go back in time next week, talk to himself, and use the same words given to him a few short moments ago. And somewhere down the line create himself an Oni-ninja mask, a katana, and a Ninja-suit. Damn, looks like he has a busy week ahead of him... or he could wait until the last second, which is always the better option. Procrastination is good, for if you wait before you do something you will be older when you do it, and therefore wiser.

The local ponies strutting about in the almost-exactly-dawn hours gave friendly waves as he walked passed them. Yeah he had wings, he could've flown. Yeah he was a beautiful magical bastard, he could've teleported. But he was a man, and occasionally men must do things in a less-efficient manner than they could have. Why? Because they were men, awesome men with manly beards and balls of steel. The kind of men you can look at and think, 'There goes one of the manliest men I've ever seen.' like Liam Neeson. There was a manly man. He trained Obi-Wan, as well as the goddamn Batman. An epic ballad the lengths of which the ancient Scandinavian peoples had never heard before could be filled with only Liam Neeson's exploits, and entire libraries could be dedicated to those he trained in the art of manliness.

He went to his house, stolidly ignoring the ponies and their damn early hour friendliness. Every. Single. Pony. Was a morning person-pony-demon. Every single one. Excepting those ponies that are almost always irritable and Rainbow Dash, as she does not awake in the mornings, but rather the evenings.

He thought he saw a Pinkie Pie float by while attached to balloons, but that was just a hallucination... maybe. He was almost 20% certain that all of Equestria contains some form of hallucinogenics.

His house was just as he left it: an island of bland practicality in an ocean of pony ponitude, which is also known as color, exuberance, happiness, and fabulous~! He opened the door and locked it, while ponies may not be thieves they also have no comprehension of the word 'privacy'. An open door to them is an invitation, and an invitation requires being a good host. Anything less would be an insult, so he just locked the door to keep the friendly bastards out. Like Canadians, they were!

He started towards the stairs, simultaneously unbuttoning his shirt and throwing the magazine his Future-Self had brought him onto the kitchen table. He didn't even bother putting his clothes in the hamper, he just took them off as he climbed the stairs and threw them in some unoccupied corner until he was clad in nothing but his skivvies, and a scowl.

Why the scowl?

Because Dashie was still in bed, but even worse. She took OVER the bed. One night that he's gone and the sheets were replaced by Wonderbolt printed covers. Also: Rainbow Dash was still in bed, lying face down, spreadeagled, snoring loudly, and taking up entire bed. That shouldn't even be possible; the bed was made for him, a giant among humans and a freaking Titan amongst ponies, there's no way that Rainbow should be able to take up the whole bed with her tiny, frail, pony frame! And yet she had... Come to think of it, how did the sheets fit? Did she have them custom ordered? Aw man, that means it has already begun: the slow but sure shift in the amount of cool stuff in his house from 'Freakin' Paradise' to 'Rainbow's House; Your Balls Are Mine'. He hereby designates his armory as his haven, because only he knows that code to the various locks, and only he knows how to placate Abraham Lincoln's reanimated body. Hint: brrrains...

Of which Dashie is severely lacking...

Unless she has a body just lying around and enough medical acumen to remove a brain mostly intact, both of which are fairly unlikely. And that's after getting through his locks. And Simba, wherever the bastard is. The latest gossip from transforming into a wounded animal and letting Fluttershy take care of you while listening to her babbling tells him that Simba had found himself a girl/vixen/she-fox... The guy was barely even out of adolescence, and already scoring! He was so proud... He might even shed a tear.

After a moment of internal debate, he resolved to not shed a manly tear of pride. That could wait until Twilight became an alicorn, and that would never happen. He bet his shins it wouldn't happen.

A sudden picture of him conversing with an alicorn-ed Twilight while in a wheelchair came to the forefront of his mind... But that wasn't the future, was it? He was no seer! Or was he? No, probably not... He had the feeling that someone, somewhere, decided that him being a seer was just a bit too much, and prevented this from happening.

He momentarily thought, 'With great power comes great insanity... Or is it, 'From great insanity comes great power.'? I always forget which.'

But back to the matter at hand: Rainbow Dash's most sinister plot, hehe, to take over his bed!

The Forgemaster carefully examined the situation, looking at it from all angles possible before reaching his inevitable conclusion. Like a well manicured lawn, the only solution is to roll it up and throw it out the window!

According to the specifications specified in that sentence, The Forgemaster bent over, scratched behind Dashie's ear, bringing an unconscious smile to her lips, carefully picked up the edge of the sheet and tossed it over Dashie, and then, in a spur of motion, roll her up and throw her out the window, ignoring her startled yelps.

Due to the fact that Equestria had either; a) cartoon physics or b) handy hedges/trampolines, there was no way that Dashie would be hurt.

Sure enough, a glance out the window showed that Dashie had landed on a trampoline that a pair of stallions were carrying down the street, likely to install it in a resident's yard, and then landed in a hedge on the other side of the street. She unraveled with the sheets, and imaginary birds that everyone could see flew about her head as she held her head to ward off the headache born of dizziness.

Her head snapped towards his house when she heard the sounds of a window slamming shut. He could vaguely see her forming words with her mouth, the soundproofed window drowning out any noise, but he was almost sure that she was saying, 'RAAAAGH!!'. Truly a terrifying threat from Dashie, but he was safe in his home for the moment. His wards and runes will keep her out. Until she remembers that she has a house key, and that would never happen, she won't be getting in here without his permission.

He drew the blinds when it became obvious that Dashie would just keep mouthing words at him and shaking her hoof through the window. However, now he had a problem: what did Dashie do with his sheets?

When a quick glance around the room revealed nothing, as though it would have, he took the lazy route and got out a single blanket from his closet, he tossed it over the bed. Promptly, he fell asleep. And with it came visions of madness... Which were primarily comprised of his memories. Cheery guy, he was lucky Celly's memories had a relatively positive influence on him. It certainly made him more talkative.

You know what's great? Hours of uninterrupted nap time. You know what Forgey got? Not that.

Hours later, maybe, or perhaps a day or more. The Forgemaster had been pretty tired, so he didn't put it past himself to sleep for a day or so. A week of heavy preparation work, for the Royal Wedding, plus one final all-nighter put its strain on his jowls. Do you know the kind of security it took for a Royal Wedding? A lot; hard work too. Work intensive as well, he couldn't just say, 'Hey! Guard this shit.' and expect it to get done, no; he had to actually get involved. Shifts, routines, checkpoints, boyos, training, mercenaries! All had been thoroughly ignored until Tia came and told him he had to do it. He had vastly underestimated his workload, and came to regret his decision. But, naps make everything better.

What interrupted his nap was large earthquake. However, that was BS. Ponyville is nowhere near a fault line, so it couldn't have been a natural earthquake.

Rubbing his eyes and muttering curses, The Forgemaster sat up out of bed, bemoaning the lack of sleep. He stretched his arms and yawned before climbing out of bed and opening the blinds. Somehow, the sight of Cerberus being tickled by Fluttershy didn't surprise him in the slightest. Also; the sight of Cerberus at all didn't surprise him. The fact that he was in Ponyville and not guarding Tartarus was a little disconcerting, but nothing to get in a tizzy about. Oh, The Forgemaster hated Tartarus, or at least his home's version of it, he had yet to visit this place's Tartarus, but he couldn't imagine this place's version being much better... scratch that, yeah he could.

Tartarus was a giant as hell hole in the Underworld, filled with everything evil, ever.

He bungee-ed down into it, and that wasn't a very pleasant experience. He learned 2 things from that. #1: never take a dare from Hades, he can be a prick when he wants to be. And #2: that jazz about staring into an abyss and having it also stare into you was completely true, took him a few years to feel better after that. Nothing terribly unpleasant, just a small feeling that he might catch a death at any moment, frequent bouts of rage through which he would not remember a thing, having the constant feeling of being watched by malign entities, and occasional explosive diarrhea. You really can't beat that without going overboard.

He saw Pinkie reach into a tree and pull out a ball, then he watched Twilight levitate the ball and run off, leading Cerberus away from Ponyville and hopefully back to Tartarus...

How does Twilight know where Tartarus is? Celly didn't tell her, he knew that much... And how did she expect to get there? Hmm, Cerberus will probably scare the hell out of anything in her way, he supposed.

Really, you'd figure that the literal hell hole of evil would be under his jurisdiction as supreme boss of the Royal Guard, but apparently it wasn't. He imagined it would be under the Department of Housing and Urban Development's jurisdiction. What? It 'housed' some folks! However, he was certain that Celestia had that well in hand. Hoof. Thing. 'Manipulative Organ Attached to the End of a Convenient Limb', there that works. 'Celly had that well in Manipulative Organ Attached to the End of a Convenient Limb.'

The Forgemaster grumbled something about 'kids these days' and 'giant ass three-headed dogs' as he closed the blinds and climbed back into bed.

Sleep eluded him for hours, which was irritating. So he went and did stuff in the comfort of his own home. However, due to the lack of many modern inventions that allow one to work from the home, he could do only very little. Like... reading! He found an old book a while back at a book store. The great part was Celestia hadn't read it, and so by the process of 'memory osmosis' he hadn't either!

He was disappointed, however, when he came to read it. The cover had been destroyed by the ravages of time, so he didn't actually know what he bought. Some may call it stupid, but he called it, 'I'm rich bitch!' The title of the book, discovered once opening the cover, read, 'The Lusty Argonian Maid.' So... useless.

Essentially, he did nothing until bed time, whereupon he went to bed. The next morning, he decided that he had had enough sleep. So he prepared to leave his bastion. Clothing equipped, The Forgemaster decided to go see how Twilight has been handling the 'crisis', or lack thereof. On the way, he stopped by at a gambling den that he knew of. Really, it wasn't very hidden, it was just the back room of his favorite bar. The only one in town, the Watering Hole. Hilarious. A thousand bits were bet, and more than 10000 would be won. Not enough to severely imbalance the economy, and not enough to make a whole group of stallions his perpetual servants to pay off the debt either... a smooth balance. Then, off to Twilight's.

The discovery of a massive, circular groove worn into the floor of Twilight's library was an admittedly small discovery when compared to his expectations. That didn't mean it upset him any less. Do you know how hard it is to fix a tree that is also living? Very, very hard. Do you know how hard it is to fill a circle with lumber? Very, very hard. Lumber is cut in a rectangle, and they don't mix well with circles. Sure you could steam them and bend them into a curve to place into the circle, but it just wasn't going to look natural or good, and the odds of filling it totally without gaps was unlikely. Pi was a finicky, seemingly endless mistress.

Twilight was still in her massive groove, a solid foot and a half down into the hardwood. Despite being seemingly impossible, there it was. Sure she weighed as much as a small horse should, but it was still living hardwood. Spike was there too, rubbing the back of his head in thought as Twilight talked. The Forgemaster offered a casual greeting, was ignored, and then sulked in one of Twilight's chairs.

She was saying, “I did everything I could think of to change the future. But it didn't work. So maybe it's not what I do... maybe it's what I don't do!” Twilight charged up her magic, her horn igniting in lavender, she teleported off to the side, “If I stand right here and don't move a muscle until next Tuesday, I can't possibly do whatever it is that future Twilight wanted to warn me not to do!”

Twilight tried to stand stock-still, and even clenched her jaw in the effort. Meanwhile, Forgey was amused.

Spike grinned smugly, and walked over to Twilight, “Really? So... no matter what happens, you're not gonna move a muscle, huh?” the way he moved behind Twilight with that grin on his face gave The Forgemaster no small amount of worry, but if Spike was a rapist, he would have to arrest him, child or no, “Then maybe you won't mind if I...” Spike sped away, leaving only a cloud of dust, he was back momentarily with a tub of ice cream, “Eat an entire tub of ice cream!”

At least he wasn't a rapist, the double entendre in his words was worrying, but it appears as though Spike didn't know what his words could be mistaken for if taken out of context. And a tub of ice cream will give you nothing but a stomach ache. Unless you are Frosty the Snowman. And he was almost certainly not a rapist. Technically, bad musicians could be called rapists as they 'shove things down your ear hole against your will' which is fairly similar to the actual definition of rapist.

The Forgemaster watched as Spike tortured Twilight with worry for his well-being, the child was clearly a master-torturer. Spike just dipped a rather large spoon into the tub of ice-cream again and again, eating each bite slowly, methodically, the better to draw out the agony. The Forgemaster was surprised that Spike couldn't even eat it like that, if eating large amounts of ice cream gives humans a brain freeze then giving large amounts of ice cream to a small dragon, a species known for their rather warm internal temperatures, then he had no idea the pain a brain freeze could cause.

The Forgemaster stood and walked over to Twilight, who only now seemed to notice his presence. Damn oblivious ponies. Just for that, he was planning on either poking her or tickling her for eternity, or until she starts to move again.

“Spike, stop!” Twilight was saying through her gritted teeth, “Think of the stomach ache!”

The Forgemaster sat down next to Twilight, and gently poked her on the side of her adorable little belly. He wouldn't stop from now on, 'Damn the torpedoes!' he's going full speed ahead with his torture!! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne! Let the Library BURN!

“Stomach ache, huh? That's Future-Spike's problem.” Spike declared like the foolish lizard he is, did he not know that Future-Spike was him in the future!?

Twilight was literally vibrating with the strain of trying not to rip the ice cream from Spike, and probably break Forgey's finger. He had poked her quite a few times, he could tell he was irritating her.

Spike greeted his efforts with an encouraging nod, and leaned up against Twilight on the opposite side of his incessant poking and prodding.

Suddenly, knocking followed by Dashie opening the door! The Forgemaster silently offered a benediction to his deities for protection of his holy-of-holies: his precious testicles. But, she had had a day or so to cool off... maybe she wouldn't kill him? Despite this, The Forgemaster felt the need to hide and did so behind Twilight quivering form, without letting up with the poking! While the idea of hiding a man of his size behind a miniature horse was laughable, he had FAITH! Magic couldn't get him out of this, even invisibility created a small amount of light when casting, which would reveal his position. But faith could move mountains, and mount movements!

“Hey Twilight!” Dashie greeted, “Another pegasus just got back from Baltimare with an all-clear and-”

She flew over towards them, breaking out laughing, the various gods of mercy, divine intervention, and infinite darkness sparing him from her sight with some magic, hopefully. However, he might just be hallucinating the effect. The hallucinogens present in Twilight might be affecting him through his close contact. As previously established, he had his suspicions on the hallucinogenic content of Equestria.

“What's going on?” Dashie asked the room, “Aren't you going to stop him?” she indicated Spike, who had thought it a good idea to fall to the ground with his face buried in the tub of ice cream.

The Forgemaster saw this as absolute proof of the gods' intervention: there was no reason for Spike's sudden descent to the floor save to spare him the wrath of Dashie. His unknowing distraction was surely divinely inspired. Faith could move mountains, it can also spare you the wrath of your foe, or in this case: an angry female. The Forgemaster decided to spare Twilight from his poking, he was in this boat too now!

“She sure isn't!” Spike declared, answering Dashie's questions for Twilight, “In fact, she's not gonna move 'til next Tuesday! She thinks it'll prevent the disaster from happening!” Spike explained.

Rainbow laughed, “Oh, this is too rich!”

She looked towards Twilight and dramatically gasped, then said, “Hey Twilight, there's a mouse right behind you!”

'Don't look, don't look, don't look, don't- ARG! You bitch!'

While Twilight may not have exactly turned around to look, she did react, unknowingly moving enough to reveal the Forgemaster. Thankfully, the revelation was brief, and he remained undetected due to Dashie's rambunctious laughter that almost required her to close her eyes, so powerful was her mirth. Yet more proof of the gods' favor.

Spike said, “Wait wait wait, let me try!”

He went and picked up a quill that was on the desk, and ran over to Twilight, tickling her all over. The Forgemaster was thankful that Spike chose not to reveal his presence, and that Dashie had elected to remain precisely where she was, yet further proof of the gods' intervening for their favored follower. He decided to sacrifice a goat later that evening, or maybe a manticore, perhaps a hydra? A virgin inserted into the nearest volcano might be best.

Twilight had finally had enough, it appeared. She magically levitated Spike, and threw him across the room towards Dashie. Upon impact, Spike unleashed a rather large and surprising, as well as unintended, green fireball.

Unfortunately, it's course was directly towards Twilight. Fortunately, it provided enough noise and light to cover up The Forgemaster's sudden teleportation. He didn't go too far, only up into the loft where Twilight's bed was. He had only slight confidence in the fire-proofedness of Twilight and decided to be on hand to put her out. Despite this, he had the amusing thought that Celly just received a rather strange message in the form of large amounts of Twilight mane and tail.

Upon seeing Twilight emerge from the fireball, Dashie wailed, “Oh no!”

“What happened?” Twilight asked, deceptively calm.

“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! It was a total accident!” Spike claimed, as though that would somehow lessen his punishment. Twilight was basically his mom, and though corporeal punishment was frowned upon in Equestria, The Forgemaster just knew that Spike was fearing for his scaled booty.

Dashie had smiled sheepishly, and started to hover in place: a nervous tick she inherited from... someone, probably. It was also a sign that she was ready to bolt at any moment, leaving Spike to his doom.

“Show me.” Twilight commanded.

“Um, I’m not so sure that's a-” Dashie started, and was interrupted.

“Show me.” Twilight commanded once more.

Spike retrieved a mirror, pointed it at Twilight, and lifted it to her eye level. Twilight's eyes widened as smoke was still drifting off of her.

“Oh no,” Twilight said, “This is the same mane cut as Future-Twilight!” and it was indeed.

“You know, it really doesn't look too bad...” it was obvious that Dashie was lying her little blue lips off.

Despite the lie, the Forgemaster agreed with it: it gave Twilight the sort of mad-scientist look that he knew was deep inside her... or maybe, not so deep. Perhaps only skin deep... It was better than the perfectly straight locks she normally had. While cute on her, they would look just weird on a human of her age.

“I don't care how it looks!” Twilight lied, I mean, she was a girl, right? “It's just another sign that the future hasn't changed!” she started nervously pacing, “Not doing anything didn't work either! Oh, I wish there was a way to know what was going to happen so I could stop it!”

“You wanna see the future?” all eyes on Spike, “I might know somepony who can help!”

They all left. Leaving him alone. Spike didn't even think of him, neither did Twilight, despite their knowledge of his presence.  He would be sad if this didn't also protect him from the wrath of Rainbow... While he was of the opinion that confronting your problems was good in the long term, he was also a survivalist. You know the kind of shit that tries to kill you over thousands of years? A whole heap of weird, deadly, or numerous things, or some combination of the 3. If confronting this particular problem also lowered the chances of his surviving, then he'd just go ahead and not confront her... The structural integrity of both his anus and his testicles is of far greater value than a relationship.

Without the slightest of bumming out due to lack of friends' concern, he left Twilight's place by way of magic. It was only Sunday, and he had yet to make his Oni-mask, katana, or his ninja outfit! Did he have to make his own? Or Twilight's? Maybe they sell them at the store... for ponies at least. He knew for a fact that they didn't carry ninja outfits in his size. Thankfully, it wasn't late.

He bid Simba to come, and come Simba did.

He tied a letter to Simba's neck, and ordered him to go to Rarity's. Within the letter were the designs and specifications for his ninja suit. It was really just a chunk of black cotton cut folded in a series of intricate ways, but he didn't want to deal with it.

A side effect of owning a pet means you can train one. A side-effect of having a pet smarter than most ponies means you don't have to train them! And off Simba went, utterly loyal to his glorious master. He'd give Simba a treat... Maybe a gift-card to some fancy restaurant that he could take his lady-friend to! And then laugh when Simba remembers that he's a fox, and foxes can't go to restaurants. God he was an asshole.

But, he still had a sword and mask to contend with. Easier said than done. Did you know that swords are supposed to be created over a long period of time in order to better purify and, therefore, strengthen the blade? However, Japanese sword had their own special method of creation, different from other methods. The steel used is traditional Tamahagane. You can't just mass-produce swords, of any kind, each blade must be given special attention. He preferred using the Soshu Kitae method, also known as the seven layers method. He found that this gave his blades a better cut and strength. Enchantment was also preferred, usually for strength only. The blades were already damn near razor-sharp, not much else could be done to them.

Took a day and most of the night to make the things, even though they were bastards. Having not used the traditional metal, he felt that something was off with the blade. He didn't even accept the name the sword offered. Beyond this night, it would never be used. He would probably melt it down for scrap. Damnable thing.

A mere 14 minutes after he was done polishing his blade, Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike showed up. Twilight demanded that he take them to Canterlot. He was incredibly amused that they were dressing in ninja attire as well. Twilight even had an eye-patch, which was hilarious. It seems they were getting closer to the event in which he would go back in time. He remembered to take his magazine with him, to give back to himself in the past, but in the present.

He had muttered, “Well, three of us are going to have to change.” when the 3 of them came to his door, all wearing ninja cloaks.

However, none did. Despite the social faux pas they were commuting, all ignored his complaints. Except for Pinkie, but she just patted him on the back and told him that nothing could be done. And so the 4 ninjas absconded into the night, heading towards the train station. Which required tickets, by the way. Buying tickets in ninja cloaks wasn't the weirdest thing he had ever done, but damnit if he wasn't the most recognizable, despite the mask and cloak.

Most awkward train ride ever. 4 ninjas, one random pedestrian, and not enough room to be comfortable. They were left all glancing at each other for the entire hour long trip. Trading glances with a deeply suspicious, fearful civilian was always irritating. Especially when he was wearing a bright red Oni-mask. Oni, of course,  being Japanese asshole demons. Demons that acted like assholes, that is. Not assholes that were demons, not demons shaped like assholes, nor demons that possess your asshole.

Thankfully, the civilian decided to stay behind on the train, probably certain that they were waiting until they got off of the train to rob him. Yes, crime exists. In big cities and outlying villages mostly, but exists it does. A rural, primarily farmland, village like Ponyville would be mostly spared from crime.

Pinkie bounced, Spike jogged (tiny legs), Twilight sneaked, and The Forgemaster casually walked whilst simultaneously blending in with the shadows. He learned how to do that from the Thieves Guild of Paris. He was rather disappointed with what happened to France's reputation. Historically, before WWII they were kind of badasses. Though losing to an invader in 40 or so days will ruin anyone's reputation.

After walking/sneaking/jogging/bouncing for about a block, Twilight turned to the group and said, “Alright, the Canterlot Archives are right over there. Let's move!”

the amount of sneakiness Twilight displayed was quite good, considering how she contorted her body to hide behind a stick-thin tree.

He was just waiting for her to realize that he was a highly ranking member of the Equestrian Guard, its leader in fact, and that the Archives were publicly accessible. Well, some parts are closed off, but most parts are public. Hell, most of the guards know Twilight, a rather large portion have actually thrown a blanket over her as she fell asleep reading in the Archives when she was the smaller version of the pony she is now. Ah, insanity brought on by lack of sleep, how he's not missed her. He was insane enough, thank you very much. Why, the last time he was a functioning member of society was... never? He actually wasn't 100% sure when, if ever.

“Uhh, I don't think we need to sneak around Twilight.” Spike helpfully pointed out, as though it weren't blindingly obvious. “It's not illegal to walk around Canterlot.”

But it is illegal to break into the... was it illegal to break into the Archives? Well, breaking things was probably illegal, but just going in? Probably not. Well... sanity and all that. Twilight had a tendency to either overlook the small (or rather large) stuff in order to focus on the big picture, or to focus on the small stuff and ignore the large stuff and the big picture.

Spike was still eating ice cream... Weird, how hasn't he died yet?

“Guard!” Twilight exclaimed... she ruined it when she jumped next to a statue and emulated it. “C'mon you guys.” she pleaded.

Pinkie twirled into a pose, Spike following her example.

The Forgemaster did nothing, he just waited until the guard was closer and nodded his head, “How we doin'?” he asked.

“Just fine, thanks.” the guard replied, and then kept walking.

Hmm... discipline seemed to be sorely lacking.... perhaps a hundred lashes was in order!?!!? No, probably not.

The glare he received from Twilight after the guard past was adorable, as most pony actions are.

“I don't know why we have to wear these things either!” Spike continued his previous line of thought.

He pinched the fabric and brought it away from his body, where it snapped back into place as he released it. They were wearing latex suits? Just where had Twilight gotten them? His was cotton, and made by Rarity... Does this mean that Rarity also deals in latex? Or did Twilight pick them up somewhere else? Who would have thought that the introverted librarian had a flair for the kinky and erotic? The Forgemaster sure did.

Pinkie was saying things about wearing them for fun, a rather crude double entendre but, coming from Pinkie, it was probably just an innocent question. She was rather similar to Broken Bulb (or was it Shattered Globe?) in that she had zero understanding of sexual relations.

Then Twilight said that there was nothing fun about this, which The Forgemaster heartily disagreed with.

“Oh. Are you sure?” Pinkie asked.

“Focus guys! The only way to prevent this disaster is to stop time!” Twilight said.

Holy shit, Twilight took her shit to the extreme. Future-Self was right when he said that The Forgemaster would get a kick out of this, that was the most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard! 'Stop time' she says, like it's as simply as casting a spell! It's not, also, it's impossible. Father Time would be like, 'You tryin' to stop me!?' in some New Jersey accent probably, and then just... stop the stopping of Time. He was kind of unbeatable like that.

Twilight continued, “Time spells are kept in the Star Swirl the Bearded wing, the most secure section of the archives. That's why we're sneaking around.”

Actually, the most secure section of the Archives is the one that no one's allowed in to. Also; it's kind of locked inside of another dimension by Tia's orders... yeah, Tia takes her shit to a similar extreme as Twilight, though she does stop just before stopping time.

“Awesome! That sounds fun!” Pinkie declared exuberantly.

“No!” Twilight was quick to stop her joy, “It's not fun!”

The Forgemaster walked forward as Pinkie 'Aw'ed' in displeasure. Twilight dashed into a bush, trying to remain sneaky despite the recent bout of loud talking. Dashing out of the bush, Twilight managed the spectacular feat of tearing her gimp suit. Now, your common gimp suit is made of an incredibly tear-resistant material, and usually reinforced with metal and leather buckles. Twilight just tore that... on a bush.

The nearest window was where Twilight had dashed too, everyone else following her, still maintaining their conversations in the face of Twilight's insistence that they remain silent.

For some indiscernible reason, the SOLID STAINED-GLASS WINDOWS could be slid open. For 'the most secure section of the Archives', it was doing a terrible job.

Despite the very obvious open window, Twilight still looked pensively in, “The coast is clear. Now slowly lift me up into the window so we can- Ah!”

Pinkie pushed her. It was funny.

Everyone else just climbed in after her.

“Ugh, let's get this over with.” Spike complained.

After a careful observation of the room, The Forgemaster announced his intentions to remain behind as a rear guard. Twilight agreed, and they walked off. A few minutes later, and a few conversations with patrolling guards, and the group was back, as well as the word spread that they weren't to be disturbed, nor the alarm sounded. Twilight didn't really think she could just walk past his guards unchallenged, did she?

Eventually, they came back. Pinkie was there first, appearing through the window, then back again, for a quite a few times. Then Twilight sneaked past. Spike brought up the rear, with his ice cream cone suspiciously void of ice cream.

Twilight muttered something about her calculations as she narrowly avoided tripping over his feet. When she looked up at the very large doorway, he quietly muttered, “Huzzah! And the great quest is completed!”

Enough to earn him a kick to the shins.

Then she realized he was there, the open window was there, and Spike mentioned that this was the window they came in, and her enthusiasm for finding the Star Swirl the bearded wing dimmed. Also: tough break for the Swirly dude; being known for your beard when you invent time related spells.

“Cool!” Pinkie exclaimed, coming in through the window for the nth time, “Can we climb in the window again? That was super fun!”

Who brings Pinkie on a stealth mission?

“I don't understand.” Twilight was saying, she was pacing in a circle, a clear nervous tick. Hopefully she won't wear another circular rut in the floor, “It's supposed to be right here... How are we supposed to find it now?”

What was she talking about? She was looking for the Swirly wing and it's right across the hall!

“Maybe we should ask somepony in the Star Swirl the Bearded wing?” Pinkie suggested, pointing towards said wing.

Good plan Pinkie!

“Huh? How'd I miss that?” Twilight asked her rhetorical question, he half-expected someone to answer her.

Twilight walked up to the closed gate, for it clearly wasn't a door. She looked in, and her eyes widened in greed! Clearly, she was a dirty sinner, fit to be purged in the fire and brimstone of hell. Being greedy for knowledge is still technically greed, and therefore a sin.

“Look at all those priceless magical scrolls!” Oh, Twilight was practically salivating, “There are more than I ever imagined!”

Whilst Twilight was distracted by her dreams of avarice, it was up to Pinkie to notice the looming shadow of a guard.

“Twilight, “ she poked Twilight, “The guard!” she pointed down the hall.

Hey! It was the guard he sent to go and fetch the keys. Good for him, back at a most opportune moment!

Twilight gasped, “What do we do? What do we do?” she harshly whispered.

As the guard rounded the corner, Twilight sank to her hooves, putting her head on them. She was cowering. She was, honestly, pretty good at cowering. However, her intelligence failed her at this particular moment. There was, if you recall, an open window like 3 feet away from her. She could also teleport, and teleport others. Seriously, what the hell Twilight?

As the guard came closer, he caught The Forgemaster's eye and clearly noticed the wink given in his direction. Hell, he even took off his mask, and opened his eye wide to make it completely obvious that it was, in fact, a wink.

Playing along, the guard waited until Twilight looked up at him to say, “Hey, Twilight, haven't seen you in a while. Let me open that for ya.”

And, with a little magic, the door was opened. It didn't even need a key... he sent the guard on a useless errand?

Twilight rubbed the back of her head and nervously chuckled, “Thanks.” she chirped.

Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike walked in as The Forgemaster climbed to his feet.

The guard levitated up a stylized key and placed it into his outstretched palm, “Here you are, sir!”

The Forgemaster nodded his thanks and sent the guard on his way. He then followed after Twilight. He let the 3 wander around through the bookshelves while he walked up to the impressive statue of an hour glass and lounged beneath it.

A moment or 2 later, and a frantic Twilight ran out of the bookshelves to the center hourglass statue. The sunrise was just visible through the open windows. The Fogremaster felt the surge of magic that he did every morning, Celly was obviously raising her sun and Lulu was lowering her moon. He really had to speak with her about a heliocentric model of the solar system, even if he knew that she revolved the sun around the planet, and Luna moved the moon around too.

“It's almost Tuesday morning,” Twilight was saying, “The disaster could happen at any moment!”

“But how do we find the time-stopping spell? There must be a million scrolls here!” Spike exclaimed.

Meanwhile, in the depths of The Forgemaster's mind, he was certain that his Future-Now-Current-Self had been correct when he said that there would be no disaster.

“I. Don't. Know.” Twilight was being dramatic again.

Then they went off among the bookshelves, frantically looking through the bookshelves. Hmm... Twilight didn't even think to ask him why he was being calm... Why? Clearly, she was under a stress and lack of sleep induced coma, but her OCD (or rather, CDO) personality woke up, took control of her body, and is now controlling her.

The sun kept rising, and they kept reading. It was insulting, the way they were treating hundreds of priceless scrolls.

Eventually, the sun rose completely. Good for Tia, right on schedule.

Spike ran to the window, “Twilight!” Spike called, “It's over! It's officially Tuesday morning!”

Twilight ran to the window, “No!” she exclaimed! “Tuesday morning, the disaster! It's coming!!”

She pushed Spike out of the way, and then sat down and cried.

The Forgemaster was getting pretty close to falling asleep, he was just thankful he got all of his work done earlier in the week. Otherwise, he would have had a huge backload to work through! Damn Twilight and him, roping him into things. He double checked his pockets to make sure that he still had his magazine, and that his mask was still in place. He figured that his part would be coming up soon.

Spike walked over to Twilight and poked her, “I dunno, Twilight. I don't see any disasters. Looks like a pretty nice day.”

Then Celestia walked in, through a bookcase, clearly she had been doing some last minute 'reading' and had used the old 'door in a bookcase' trick to hide her shame. She probably even raised the sun down in her dungeon, for shame!

It was obvious, what with how quickly she tried to get away from Twilight, “Good morning Twilight. Love the new hairstyle. Well, happy Tuesday!”

She then fled. He thought it was cute, the way she started subconsciously using some human words like 'hairstyle' instead of 'manestyle'. The Forgemaster took this as proof that humans had the more robust, and powerful culture.

Twilight tried to smile at her teacher, but she failed.

She stood up, obviously distraught, and yelled, “Why isn't anypony surprised to see me sneaking around in here!?”

She moved over to the window, “Is it possible there never was a disaster? That I've just been making myself frantic over nothing?”

Aw... Twilight finally caught on! Thank himself that he went back in time to tell himself about all the fun time he would be having. And that he shouldn't worry over Twilight, that was good of him.

Spike, somehow with a replenished ice cream cone, said, “I don't get it. If Future-Twilight wasn't warning you about a disaster, then what was she trying to tell you?”

Twilight started giggling, the stress has clearly affected her more than it seemed, “I don't know, but I do know one thing: I look ridiculous.”

“Yeah, you do!” Spike heartily agreed.

“And it;s all because I couldn't stop worrying and let the future handle itself!” Twilight continued, “Well, not anymore! From now on, I’m going to solve problems as they come, and stop worrying about every little thing!”

The Forgemaster laughed, he laughed until his sides hurt, he laughed until scrolls started falling from the draft he created, he laughed for a long time, and it was good.

Despite the loud noise, Spike managed to say, “That's great! Does that mean there won't be any more late night pacing?”

“No more late night pacing, “ Twilight confirmed, making The Forgemaster laugh even more, “If only I had learned this lesson a week ago, we wouldn't have had to go through all this.”

Suddenly: Pinkie Pie, “Twilight, Twilight! I found something!” Pinkie held up an unrolled scroll, which Twilight promptly took in her magical grip, the lazy bastard.

Twilight was reading the scroll, “It doesn't stop time,” Pinkie continued, “But it let's you go back in time. It says you can only go back once, and it only lasts for a few moments. Does that help?”

The Forgemaster was suddenly silent, realizing the implications of the discovery. He sat up from his lovely lounging place, but did not yet stand.

“Pinkie, you're a genius!” Twilight exclaimed.

Pinkie bounced in joy, “Woohoo!”

“Now I can go back and tell Past-Twilight that she doesn't need to go berserk with worry about a disaster that's never gonna come!”

Twilight hunched over, magical power flowing through her horn. For his part, The Forgemaster grabbed her tail with one hand, tagging along for the ride in the crudest way possible. He still projected a shield around himself, Time was pretty corrosive after all, and held on for all he was worth. Books and scrolls went flying, but Twilight didn't seem to notice her extra baggage.

And, with a bright flash, they were back in the library. He abruptly realized his ass was hanging over nothing, and stood up. He ignored Twilight as she went and started talking to Past-Twilight, and instead went to his Past-Self.

He saw the face of himself and grinned beneath his mask, “Yeah, I know. I had that thought too...”