Reckoning, Act 1

Part 1:

>your name is Anonymous
>known to your friends as Anon
>you are the first man in Equestria
>how did you get here?
>who cares? this is an abusefag story
>you're obviously going to be a filly within a few posts here
>not that you know that
>what you do know is that you live in Canterlot
>and that it's the 999th Year of the Sun
>and that you're fucking late for work
>that whole Summer Sun Celebration holiday thing is still a few months out
>but already, orders are flooding Ruby's jewelry shop for the special occasion
>she's gonna be pissed at you for leaving you to deal with this shit herself
>so you haul ass
>ah, but Anon
>what a large ass a six-foot biped must have
>and how small these little ponies must be
>and you
>poor you
>you don't notice the little, lavender unicorn you're hurtling toward
>not until it's too late
<"Ah!"
>the feeling of an impact, combined with the sound of a squeal, makes you skid to a halt
>and there she is
>sprawled out on the sidewalk
>books scattered all around her
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry."
>that right there, more than anything else, is where your problems will begin
>you remember that one internet video
>sorry for what?
"Heh."
>and now she's glaring at you
<"Is this funny to you?"
"No! Holy shit, I'm sorry. I guess I've just got a fucked up sense of humor. Here, lemme help you with that."
>even as you kneel to gather up the little unicorn's books for her
>her magic flares to rip them out of your grasp
<"Don't touch them."
>she rises to her own four hooves, her books stacked neatly in her magical grasp
>she's still scowling at you
>you're about to offer another apology
>but the Canterlot clock tower thunders out a 9
>and you remember
>you're fucking late for work
"L-look, I don't know if it's customary to exchange insurance information or something, but I've really gotta go. If you need anything, I'll be at Ruby's, on Mare Street."
>and with that
>you haul ass

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>personal protege to Princess Celestia
>you only just graduated from your final year at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns last week
>you were so excited to find out where the Princess wanted to take your education next
>but what did she tell you when you asked her?
>she wants you to spend the next few months "independently studying"
>whatever that means
>you're pretty sure it means "here, move into this library tower thing and leave me alone"
>well, you've obliged the Princess' wish at that
>after all, you didn't bother to ask her permission to break into the restricted area of the Archives
>hey, it's not like there's anything from the regular Archives you haven't already read
>all you're doing is expanding your education
>and it's been a lot of fun so far
>the spells from the Restricted Archives...
>spells that fools from the olden days would have called "dark magic"...
>wait, did you just call Starswirl the Bearded a fool?
>well, if the horseshoe fits...
>no, no
>you're sure it's probably best to excercise a little caution with these spells
>but, oh!
>they feel so..
>very...
>good
>and you were feeling so very good on your way to the Archives today
>until that thing ran into you
>maybe you could have gotten over it if the thing had just apologized
>but it laughed at you!
>it laughed!
>for a moment, the white marble of the Canterlot street turns red
>you have to stop and breathe deeply for a couple minutes before you can see clearly again
>and you continue on your way
>but you're still seething
>of course you recognized him as that creature from another world who showed up in Canterlot a while ago
>you and every other intellectual in the city followed that news story for as long as it was relevant
>to think that he would knock you over
>and then laugh about it!
>you of all ponies, the Princess' own apprentice!
>"Uh, Twilight?"
>most of the royal guards know you by name
>this guard you're trying to walk past now is...
>well, you don't know most of the royal guards by name
>what you do know is that he's annoyingly in your way right now
"What is it?"
>"Your ID?"
"Huh? What do I need an ID for?"
>the guard cocks his head
>"To... enter the castle?"
>you pause
>and you see your surroundings as though for the first time
>you have indeed reached the palace doors
"Oh. Right. I'll just get it."
>you reach into the field of magic which holds your stack of books
>the talisman, an unfailing form of identification that's been magically attuned to your ego, should be sitting right on top of the books
>but it's not
>it's not under the books
>between them
>inside them
>where is it?!
>"Take your time, Twilight."
"Shut! Up!"

>you are the guard
>or at least, you think you are
>in this moment, the most powerful mind known to ponydom is imposing itself upon you
>so subtle are its weavings that you'll never know it was ever in your head
>in reality, you are Princess Celestia, watching through the eyes of the guard
>someone has been breaking into the Restricted Archives
>much as you hate to spy on Twilight, she's one of the few unicorns in Canterlot powerful enough to do it
>and power - as you've seen so, so many times in your life - corrupts
>that testy attitude on your faithful student is certainly worrying
>through the mouth of your guard, you ask Twilight the question that's on your mind
"Twilight, are you all right?"
>she seethes visibly for a moment
<"I forgot my ID. Just let me through."
"You know I can't do that."
>Twilight's horn erupts into black, green, and violet flames
<"I said let me through!"
>the guard's natural fear-response kicks in, and you're almost kicked out of his mind for a moment
>but you hang on, and compell him to regain his composure
"All right. Just this once though."
>Twilight doesn't respond as she brushes past and into the castle
"Twilight!"
>she stops and glares
"Whatever's bothering you, you know you can talk to Princess Celestia about it, right?"
>Twilight's glare turns into a scowl before she continues toward the corridor
>you release your grip on the guard's mind, and your senses return to your study
>there, you sit at your grand, oaken desk with a furrowed brow
>much as you hate subverting ponies' wills like that, Twilight is important to you
>you were hoping that granting Twilight a bit of freedom in her studies would help her grow
>but it looks like she wasn't ready
>the blind pursuit of knowledge has led many great ponies down dark paths
>experience tells you that Twilight has already gone far enough on such a path that direct intervention will only cause her to flee farther down it
>you'll need a more subtle approach if you want to save her before drastic actions become necessary
>somewhere, beneath the horizon, a reminder of such an action lies painted on the Moon
>what to do?

>you are Anon
>and, at last, you are at work
>Ruby is leaning on the display counter, tracing circles on the glass with her hoof
>"Well, there you are. I was starting to get lonely."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."
>"What in the world kept you so long?"
>uh
>should you tell her you were up late drinking?
"Slept through my alarm."
>it's technically true
>Ruby hums and keeps hoof-doodling on the counter
>as you make your way to join her, you realize that your frantic departure has left you somewhat disshevelled
>you take a moment to tuck your shirt back in
>and it looks like you forgot to tie your tie before leaving for work
>once behind the counter, you try to fix this
>taking one end of the tie in each hand, you tie it into the closest thing to a Windsor knot that it seems willing to go
>why the hell isn't this working?
>"Anon."
"Hm?"
>"That's a bow tie."
"Oh. Right."
>you take your poor bow tie out of its unnatural contortion
>and...
>shit, why can't you remember the bow tie knot right now?
>Ruby's chiding laugh is like jewels tinkling together
>"Anon, just let me do it."
>the ruby-maned unicorn takes the tie into her magic and slips it into a neat bow knot
>you sigh
>"Anon? You seem dazed, somehow. What's the matter?"
>the response you prepare in your mind is something about staying up late and rushing over here
>the response that slips out of your mouth is somewhat different
"I bumped into a mare on the way here."
>"Ooooh! Tell me everything! Was it love at first sight?"
"What? No. I mean, I guess she was cute for, you know, a pony, but-"
>"I can see it now! A university student, late to her classes, galloping down the street, toast in her mouth-"
"No. Stop that."
>"Here I thought I would be the one to put a crack in your shell."
>you jump backwards, hands in a defensive posture
"Nope!"
>howls of tinkling laughter
"Look, meeting this chick was wierd."
>"Meeting your true love usually is."
"Trust me, this was not that. The whole thing was, I dunno, unnerving. I guess she seemed kind of creepy."
>"Hmmmm..."
>Ruby, perhaps realizing that the mood for tormenting you has passed, goes back to her hoof-circles on the glass
"Anyway, you seemed kind of spaced-out too. What's going on?"
>Ruby groans
>"Nothing is going on; that's just the problem. After all the orders for the Summer Sun Celebration yesterday, I figured the shop would be busier today."
"It hasn't been?"
>"I haven't seen a pony in here all day."

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>the sight of the magical seal on the Restricted Archives only makes you smile now
>the first time you'd done this, it had pushed you exactly to the limits of your power
>almost as if it had been a test for you
>and maybe it had been meant as a test
>after all, you still don't know for sure what the Princess had expected when she charged you with independent study
>in any case, with the power you've gained since studying the restricted tomes, the seal has only grown easier and easier
>reaching into the sub-ether of the seal, you locate its two basic components
>the seal itself
>and a mental link leading to someone outside of the Archives
>you assume that this link is designed to alert the Princess in the event that the seal is broken
>it's made from very, very fine thread of magic
>only an exceptional sorcerer would have been able to even notice it
>fortunately, exceptional is just what you are
>not only can you see the thread
>you can also choke it tightly enough to keep it from transmitting any signals
>once that's done, it's just a matter of breaking the seal itself
>with a little so-called "dark" magic, that's foal's play now
>once the seal is broken, you open the door and enter the Restricted Archives
>now comes the delicate part
>rebuilding the seal so you can let go of the mental link
>this part is delicate because you have to try to rebuild the seal exactly as it was before you first broke it
>that means no restricted magic
>but you're an exceptional sorcerer, and the job gets done
>you let go of the link
>no alert
>you take a moment to admire your hoofwork
>it's such a near-approximation to the original seal, you doubt if anyone less than Princess Celestia herself could tell the difference
>but of course, she'd have to come inspect it in person to see it

>you are Anon
>there was a time when you never imagined that you might use a jeweller's screwdriver for actual jeweling
>but that was a long time ago
>in a world without electronics, jeweling is about the only thing these tiny screwdrivers are good for
>and here you are, in the back of a talking unicorn's jewelry shop
>putting the amazing dexterity of your fingers - compared to hooves anyway - to profitable use
>setting a fire ruby into a plain gold ring
>but something in your jacket becomes very cold, very quickly
>you gasp and drop everything
>the ring and screwdriver clatter neatly onto the table
>but the screw you were working on rolls onto the floor, never to be seen again
>Ruby calls to you from the storefront
>"Anon, what was that girlish yelp? Is everything all right?"
"I do not yelp! Everything's fine."
>"If you say so."
>you reach into your jacket pocket and pull out a flat, black disk
>you sure didn't put this there
>it's not so cold to the touch right now, but you assume it's what caused your pocket to freeze a moment ago
>some sort of magic thing, probably
>maybe it fell into your pocket when you bumped into that mare
>at that thought, you shudder worse than you did when your pocket froze
>you really, really do not want to meet her again

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>you can't get that creature out of your head
>no matter how much you try to focus on your pursuit of knowledge
>he just won't leave you alone
>he laughed at you!
>and now he's distracting you from your studies
>oh, and he made you lose your ID, too
>deep breaths now, Twilight
>the tome in front of you is actually quite fascinating
>Anadolu Nokota's Esoteric Guide to Forms of Flesh
>with normal forms of magic, spells designed to change a pony's race, age, or sex generally require so much power that they're effectively impossible
>with restricted forms of magic, however, it seems like these spells are quite a bit more doable
>boy, you'd like to turn that big alien monster into a helpless little foal and...
>and...
>you shake your head
>you can't complete that thought
>it's horrific
>but still...
>you bet he'd never knock anyone down again
>or laugh at them while they're down
>no, no, focus on your studies
>ah, but Twilight
>if you really want to explore these spells you're reading about...
>then won't you need to test them on somebody?
>your ears perk all the way up at this thought, as though by straining them you could hear more of it
>yes, there might be a way to settle both of these interests then
>Ah!
>No!
>you sigh
>read over the principles of Nokota's form-changing magic until you think you've memorized it
>and place the book back on its shelf
>how about this?
>you'll do a little research on the creatture
>then you'll go meet him in person and give him a chance
>where did it say he would be again?
>some place on Mare Street
>Rudy's or something
>you'll probably remember when you see it
>anyway, you'll figure out what to do once you've spoken to him
>your plan seems acceptable to you
>so you prepare to break through the seal once more to find what articles you can on the creature from another world in the regular Archives

>you are Anon
>it's been a slow workday
>fortunately, it's nearly over now
>a few weeks ago, it would have been dark out by now
>but with spring at last breaking in earnest, that princess pony is finally starting to keep up the sun longer now
>"Anon?"
"Hm?"
>"You've been wiping that same spot on the counter for ten minutes while staring out the window."
>you blink
>indeed, the glass display counter directly in front of you has been wiped clean of any and all conceivable specks and smudges
>and your eyes are fixed on the vibrant, blue sky
"I guess I have been. I'll move on."
>you step sideways, away from Ruby, taking your dry rag of cleanliness with you
>"Anon."
"Hm?"
>"It's clean enough."
>you sigh, and shove the rag into your back pocket
>Ruby sets her book down and leans onto the counter
>"What's on your mind? Is it still that mare?"
>you inhale
>well, it's partly that
>it's partly the potentially evil black disk you found in your pocket as well
>though that's probably related to that mare
"Yeah, I guess."
>Ruby grins
>"She couldn't have been that creepy, could she?"
"Eh. I don't know if creepy's the right word. I don't know..."
>the way she looked at you
"I guess I've just got a bad feeling."
>"Oh, I don't know what you're so worried about. You'll probably never see her again."
>that's when the front door jingles open

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>so the place is called Ruby's
>it's a jewelry shop of some sort
>the eponymous Ruby, you presume, is a creme-colored unicorn with a looping red mane
>standing next to her is...
"Anonymous. I found you!"
>yes, the creature's name is Anonymous
>he refers to his race as "human"
>and he has no idea how he ended up in Equestria
>it's a shamefully boring story for an alien creature from an unknown world
>currently, he's staring agape at you with wide eyes
>is he afraid of you?
>he should be
>if he keeps this up he might just last the night unchanged
<"Y-you sure did. And you found out my name too, I see."
>the red-maned mare gasps
>"Oh my. Anon, I didn't know you'd met Twilight Sparkle!"
<"Oh, Ruby, you... know her."
>"There aren't many unicorns in Canterlot who don't. I was still in the School for Gifted Unicorns when she was chosen as Princess Celestia's personal protege, so I used to see her all the time."
>Ruby smiles toward you
>"It's an honor to have you, Miss Sparkle. What brings you here today?"
>you smile back, cordially
"Oh, I just happened to bump into Anon this morning. He said he'd be here, so I figured I'd come visit."
>Ruby's eyes widen
>"Oh! Then you were- Well, he's been terribly bothered about it. I'll, erm, leave you two for a moment."
>the jeweler shuffles away into some back room, leaving you alone with your quarry
>you smile at Anon, trying your best to hide the utter loathing you feel right now
"So, it's been bothering you."
<"Uh, sort of. I, uh, I found something in my pocket, and I think it might be yours."
>an appendage known as a "hand" is shoved into a suit jacket, and returns with...
>no!
>a round, black talisman
>your ID!
>that humiliation at the palace this morning...
>it was all because this creature had stolen your ID!
<"D-do you want it?"
>you snatch the ID from his grasp with your magic
>the talisman, magically attuned to your ID, lights up in your aura
>it's odd, though
>instead of the normal pink star, it's showing a sickly red fog
>realization stabs you like a dagger
>he broke it!
>the stupid monster broke your ID!
<"So, um, did you need anything? You weren't hurt, were you?"
>your friendly smile doesn't falter, even with the wrath boiling beneath your skin
>and you know
>that you won't be sparing Anonymous today
"Oh, no, Anon. I wasn't hurt. I just..."
>steady now
>this is the moment of truth, Twilight
"I just needed a job done."
>are you breathing heavily?
>calm down
>you reach into your bag
>and procure a small amethyst
"Can you set this into a ring for me?"
>Anon plucks the gem from the air
"Yeah. Yeah, that shouldn't be a tough job. Come back tomorrow and I'll have it done for you."
"Great! I'll see you then!"
<"Is there anything else?"
"Nope!"
>without another word, you trot out of the jewelry store
>the amethyst is connected to you via a fine mental link
>in about five minutes time, you'll send your judgement through it

>you are Anon
>the mare named Twilight Sparkle has left the building
>Ruby pokes her head out of the back room
>"How'd it go?"
"Better than I expected. She just wanted this in a ring."
>you hold up the amethyst for Ruby's inspection
>"Hm..."
"What is it?"
>"I'm not sure. It doesn't look enchanted or charged, but... there's something magical about that amethyst."
"Is that bad?"
>Ruby shrugs
>"Probably not. Twilight Sparkle is known for her studies on magic."
"All right. I'll go set it then."
>"Oh, come off it, Anon. Let's close up shop; you can do that tomorrow."
"Aw, this won't take me more than five minutes, Ruby. Might as well do it now."
>Ruby rolls her eyes
>she procures a key and sets it on top of the display counter
>"All right, Mr. Hard Worker. You lock up the shop then. I'm going home now."
"Okay. I'll lock it up when I go."
>Ruby is already halfway out the door
>but she sends you one last quip before leaving
>"And since you've got the key, do try not to show up an hour late tomorrow."
"No promises."
>the door tinkles shut
>you head into the back room to set the amethyst
>it's a pretty simple job
>grab the tiny screwdriver
>grab the tiny screws
>grab a fitting ring to set the jewel in
>since Twilight Sparkle didn't specify what she wanted, you go with a plain, silver horn ring
>it should go better with her purple coat than anything gold or brass-colored would
>goodness
>the mere fact that such a thought has just crossed your mind seems pretty funny now
>you never once imagined that you'd grow up to make fashion choices for purple unicorns
>life can take some pretty bizarre twists and turns
>for example, you're just about finished setting the amethyst when you drop it and scream
>the incomprehensible sight of black light reaches in tendrils from the jewel you were so recently holding
>the black light overtakes you
>and then?
>no black light
>just regular old blackness

Part 2:

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>as you roll over in bed, you realize that you don't remember going to bed
>as your eyes flutter open, you realize that the bed you're in isn't even yours
>the white walls of a hospital
>the rustle of cheap blankets
>the skritch skritch skritch of a nurse taking notes
>you decide to focus on the nurse
"Excuse me. What am I doing here?"
>the nurse looks up from her clipboard
>"Oh. You're awake now. You suffered an attack of brain fever the other day. Passed right out in the middle of some alley."
"Brain fever?"
>"Well, your little dragon friend said you'd been irritable for a while. That plus the collapse, well, it's consistent with the symptoms."
>you collapsed?
>in the middle of some alley?
>why would you be in an alley?
>your eyes fly open when you realize
>you did it
>you actually did it
>the spell must have taken more out of you than you'd expected
>but you know it was no attack of brain fever that knocked you out
>the spell!
>did it work?
>you've got to find out-
>"Hey now, don't go exciting yourself. You could still have another attack."

>you are Anon
>Ruby says you can't work for her anymore
>but that's nonsense
>you can work with these stubby hoof-things just as well as you can with fingers
>you're in the process of climbing onto the display counter to show her you can still wipe it down
>but you slip
>and fall
>and on the way down, your back hoof pierces the glass
>and you land on your back
>hard
>"Anon."
"Oh..."
>"You know you'll always be my friend, Anon."
"No..."
>"But I can't afford to keep you around anymore."
>the amethyst
>the amethyst did something to you
>you're smaller now
>much smaller
>with hooves
>and your dick is gone
>Ruby called you a filly
>you're a filly now
>you've become a filly
"How am I gonna pay my rent?"
>"I'm sorry."
"You know what? Don't be. It's not your fault. It's hers."
>"Anon..."
"I think I'll go pay her a visit right now."
>you roll over and jump to your hooves
>the one that went through the glass was cut a little, and you wince when it hits the floor
>"Try not to be too angry with her."
"Why not? It was her fucking gemstone that ruined my life, wasn't it?"
>"For your own sake, not hers."
"Oh, whatever."
>you proceed to limp out the door
>"Do you want a bandage for that cut before you go out?"
"Nope. I'm good."
>"Well I'll... see you around some time, I hope."
"Maybe. Have a nice life."
>as you step outside, you realize
>this is probably the last time you'll ever step through this door

>you're still Anon
>you've managed to limp all the way to the Canterlot General Hospital
>you don't know what you're going to do when you see Twilight Sparkle
>last you heard, she fell unconscious the same night you turned quadrupedal
>probably not a coincidence
>maybe you'll yell at her
>threaten to sue
>something
>you don't know
"Hey, desk lady, down here."
>the mare at the desk clearly hadn't noticed you
>going from six feet tall to two feet tall has some major complications for you
>she peers over the edge of the desk to look at you
>"Well hello there, sweetie. Where's your mom?"
>you physically bite your tongue to keep from screaming at the white earth mare
>how likely exactly is it that you could convince her of your story?
>probably not very
>you are not getting kicked out of here after limping all the way from Ruby's on a cut foot
>on a cut hoof
>fuck
"She's uh... a patient here. Her name is Twilight Sparkle. Can I see her?"
>the receptionist's eyes begin to sparkle with compassion
>"Oh, of course, sweetie. I'll call up to see if she'll see you, but I'm sure she will."
>oh?
>the bitch is awake now, then
>good
>the sooner you can get this lawsuit underway the better
>the receptionist reaches up for a literal can on a string and speaks into it
>this world is bizarrely quaint sometimes
>"Hello, Miss Sparkle? Your daughter is here to see you."
>oh, fuck
>the desk mare might not know that you're lying, but Twilight Sparkle sure will
>after a pause, her voice echoes from the can
<"My... daughter?"
>"Yes, she's right here."
>another pause
>this one longer
>but at last
<"What's... her name?"
>the deskmare puts her hoof over the can and smiles at you
>"What's your name again, sweetie?"
"Anonymous."
>"Anonymous? Ooh, that must be one of those new-age names. I like it."
>she uncovers the can and tells Twilight Sparkle your name
>there's another pause
>a really long one this time
>when she responds at last, she sounds almost like...
>like she's been laughing?
<"Send her up."
>"Will do, Miss Sparkle!"
>the receptionist releases the can, and it retracts into the ceiling alongside dozens of others
>"Room R-120, sweetie."
"Thanks."

>once again, you are Anon
>after yet another long trudge on an injured hoof, you've finally located room R-120
>looking on the door now, a certain chill can be felt running up your spine
>but you can't account for that
>besides, you've walked up too many stairs to turn back empty-handed now
>you're gonna get some kind of compensation for this shit, and you're gonna get it now
>with that thought, you push open the door and stride inside
>and your plans are shattered within an instant
>Twilight Sparkle is lying in a hospital bed
>her cheeks are gaunt
>her eyes are underlined with thick, black rings
>she looks exhausted
>she looks...
>vulnerable
>internally, you sigh
>you can't sue a pony in this absolute state
>you never were the sort to hold a grudge

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>this filly who's just walked into the room...
>could it be?
"Anonymous?"
>the filly inhales
<"Yep."
>ha!
>it worked!
>the spell worked!
>here he is, the creature from another world
>the monster who assaulted you
>the beast who laughed at you
>here he is, laid low at last
>he's so tiny
>he's...
>vulnerable
>the thought of it intoxicates you like the finest wine
>any lingering thoughts of mercy are struck from your brain right then and there
>with your new magical knowledge, there are a million ways in which you could dispose of him right now
>why, with Grimoire of Bospone's mental bolt spell, you could eradicate a little thing like that without leaving a single atom behind
>and there are no witnesses in here to see it...
>he's completely within your power
>no...
>she's completely within your power
>the sheerly unnatural nature of what you've afflicted this monster with fills your head with a sensation of fizzy euphoria
<"Well geez, don't have a heart attack on my account."
>shoot! you're getting too excited
>you'll scare her out at this rate
>you still need to lure Anonymous into one final trap before you can grant her the fiendish fate you have in store for her
"What... what happened to you?"
<"Oh, I did something different with my hair. Can you tell?"
>she's got a dry sense of humor now
>it's sarcastic, bitter, and insulting
>she won't be telling jokes for much longer
"Yeah. And your limbs, body, age, sex, and species too, I see."
<"Funny story, that. That amethyst you left with me sprouted black tentacles and did this."
"Oh, my. It wasn't supposed to do that at all."
<"I'd hope not. Anyway, all I want to know is, is there any way to undo it?"
>of course, with your new magic, there are plenty of ways
>not that you'll use any of them
>better lead her on with a little false hope though
"Maybe... Say, where is the amethyst now?"
<"Sitting in a ring, waiting for you at Ruby's. Not that I work there anymore."
>she's unemployed
>uncertain
>soon to be desperate, if nobody offers a helping hoof
>perfect
"Oh, dear. You lost your job?"
>Anonymous holds up a filly hoof
<"Can't really operate a jeweler's screwdriver with these things."
"Oh, I feel terrible. Is there anything you're going to need? Do you have a place to stay?"

>you are Princess Celestia
>as you approach room R-120, you hear a pair of voices conversing
<"Do you have a place to stay?"
^"I won't by the end of this month."
<"Do you want... to stay with me?"
>you choose this moment to make your serendipitous entrance
"Why Twilight, that's a wonderful idea!"
>Twilight and a little filly jump in surprise at your declaration
>as you've just observed, you are Princess Celestia
>very little happens here in Canterlot without your knowing about it
>Twilight is teetering on the very precipice of madness
>she went and transformed Anonymous, the creature from another world, into the small filly who's trembling here at your hooves
>she used dark magic to do it
>forcing her to live with the consequences of her actions
>forcing her to care for the creature she's wronged
>this could be the key to pulling your student back from the edge
>but you'll have to be careful about it
<"D-do you think so, Princess?"
"I know so."
>you bend your head to look at little Anonymous
"Anon, my chariot is waiting outside of the hospital. Why don't you go there and ask the drivers to take you to your apartment so you can get ready to move? I've just sent them a message to wait for you."
>Anon was always a bit unimpressive for an alien
>but now that he's hardly taller than your horseshoes, he's almost heartbreaking
^"Th-th-thanks..."
>with that, he shuffles out of the hospital room
>leaving you alone with your student
"Now Twilight, you know that I've taken many, many students over the years. Most of these turned out to be great ponies. Heroes, philosophers, scholars. Their works are given places of honor at every library in Equestria."
<"Princess?"
"A few of my students, however, went down darker paths. Obsession, hatred, and power got the better of them, and I was unfortunately forced to deal with them as criminals. Their works survive only in the Restricted Archives in my palace, where none but myself is permitted. The only reason these works still exist at all is because I cannot bear to wipe away the last traces of these fallen proteges, all of whom I cared for exactly as I care for you, Twilight."
>Twilight is a bright young mare
>you can see in her face that she's begining to see where you're going with this
"Anadolu Nokota was of the latter type, Twilight. Which type do you want to be?"
>tears are beginning to well up in Twilight's eyes
<"P-P-P-Princess, I... I..."
"Why'd you do it, Twilight? Why would you harm an innocent creature like that? Why would you hurt me like that?"
<"I... I wanted to learn all that I could! Nokota's theories were fascinating; I just wanted see if it would work!"
>you let a small sigh of relief escape your lips
>a lust for knowledge is usually much easier to recover from than a lust for power or a lust for hate
>this is a hopeful sign
>you lower your head and wipe away Twilight's tears with your cheek
<"Wh-what do you want me to do? Change him back?"
"No, Twilight. It can't be done without more dark magic, and you've suffered quite enough from that already."
>well, it could theoretically be done with light magic
>but as far as you know there's noone in Equestria who can perform light magic right now
>not even yourself, anymore
>besides, light magic is too unpredictable for this sort of thing
>it's terribly unfortunate for poor Anon
>but there's just no helping him now
>no
>there's just no helping her now
>if there's no way for Anon to go back, then she'll have to get used to life as a filly
>Twilight's done a terrible thing
>and now it's too late to save Anon
>hopefully it's not too late to save Twilight too
"What I want you to do, Twilight, is to take care of her like I've taken care of you. You can make up for your mistake by raising Anon with compassion and care."
>Twilight spasms under your cheek
<"I... I'll try."
>you pull your head back and look upon your student
>she's in a terrible way
"Get some sleep now, Twilight. I'll come visit you again tomorrow."
<"I will. Thank you, Princess."
>with that, you leave your student to rest

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>that was a close call
>looks like you managed to fool the Princess into thinking you were sorry
>unfortunately, it looks like she's onto you
>you'll have to make her understand your point of view one of these days
>but for now, you'll have to proceed with caution
>for one thing, no more visits to the Restricted Archives
>somehow she figured out you were studying there
>you'll have to make due with the spells and theories you've already learned from here on out
>for another thing, you'll need some way of keeping the Princess unaware of what you're doing to Anonymous
>how exactly?
>you're not sure just yet
>but you've got a few more days in the hospital to brainstorm some plans
>and you really are feeling pretty tired
>so you roll over and try to sleep
>you've won an important victory today
>not only is Anonymous coming to live under your power
>but the Princess herself has approved of it!
>just a few days now
>in just a few days...
>Anonymous' punishment can begin for real

>you are Anon
>you opted to get rid of most of the things from your apartment
>in the first place, most of it was custom-made for a six-foot biped with opposable thumbs
>in the second place, Twilight Sparkle's little tower-slash-library-slash-home doesn't really have room for your furniture
>in the third place, it's always nice to have a few more bits to pad your bank account
>for the past few days, you've been living in this tower with Spike
>Spike is a baby dragon, and apparently he's Twilight's personal assistant
>he's a pretty cool guy
>but he looks pretty ridiculous in that apron
>currently he's engaged in frantically tidying up the place for Twilight's return today
>what exactly is he tidying up?
>you can't tell
>this place was spotless to begin with
>at last, the door to the tower opens
<"Spike? Spiiike? Is Anonymous here yet?"
>"Yeah, she's right here."
>you cringe
>there's that "she" again
>you suppose you'll have to get used to it for now
>Twilight said "maybe" when you asked if she could turn you back though
>so hopefully this won't last forever
"Yeah, what he said."
>Twilight ascends the stairs and comes into view
<"Good, good. It's good to have you here, Anon."
>the first thing she does is pick up Spike in her magic and inspect him closely
>"H-hey! What gives?"
<"The last time I left you alone for a week you had scale fleas when I got back."
>"I was little then! I bathe three times a day now!"
<"You shouldn't waste water like that, Spike. But you do look pretty clean."
>with that, Twilight sets Spike down
>then she walks up to you
<"So... Anonymous..."
"Uh, you can call me Anon if you want."
<"Anon, huh? Just like your friends call you?"
"Yeah. I guess."
<"I want you to call me Mistress Sparkle."
"Huh?"
>you're not really sure what happens next
>something hard and round impacts your face
>you go flying through the air
>when you've landed on the floor and painfully skidded a bit across it, you allow one eyelid to flutter open
>there's something red on Twilight's hoof
>she's staring at it
>giggling

Part 3:

>you are Spike
>or at least, you think you are
>in reality you are, of course, Princess Celestia
>it's not that you couldn't get into Twilight's mind if you wanted to
>but she's so sensitive that she'd surely notice
>Anon's mind, however, you really can't get into
>despite her fairly normal personality, the structure of her mind itself is just too alien for you to get a good grasp on it
>Spike is neither an alien nor a sensitive sorcerer
>so you've decided to keep an eye on things by occasionally borrowing his senses
>these past few days of watching have been a great relief
>the relationship between Twilight and Anon is going better than you'd dared to hope
>more importantly, Twilight is leaving dark magic alone
>and you know she's not sneaking off to the Restricted Archives
>the reinforcements you placed on the seal and the mental alarm system pushed you to your very limits
>so they're certainly beyond Twilight's capability to break through without your immediate knowing it
>currently, Twilight and Anon are engaged in some game where Anon rides on Twilight's back
>it's all a bit more... childish than you'd expected
>but it's sweet
>and it looks like they're having a good time with it
<"Oh no, you don't!"
>with that, Twilight bucks up in the air, eliciting gasps of laughter from Anon
>you allow a soft smile to grace your lips
>it's wonderful to see your normally reserved student showing such uninhibited affection
>you take your leave of Spike's mind and leave them to their game

>you are Twilight
>you've tested the "see no evil" charms you placed on Spike the other day in every conceivable way
>while Spike thought you were checking him for scale fleas, you slipped the enchantments on over his eyes and ears
>Spike is a good assistant, if a bit stupid and lazy
>there's no need to scar his childhood with what you're doing here
>more importantly, there's no need to give him anything to talk about
>the nice thing about enchanting the eyes and ears specifically?
>it leaves no trace of mental tampering
>even a master of psychological magic can't find surgical scars in a mind that was never operated on in the first place
>not that you think Spike is going to have his mind read any time soon
>still, it's nice to have that little bit of extra assurance
>he's on the other side of the room right now
>reorganizing some books you left out last night
>you catch him glancing over at you every so often
>grinning and shaking his head
>it looks like he's seeing something a lot more gentle than what's going on right now
>yes, you're satisfied that the enchantments worked
>so you turn your attention back to Anon
>she'll be needing it soon

>you are Anon
>is this some sort of dream?
>can you chafe in a dream?
>can your shoulders groan in agony in a dream?
>can you suffocate in a dream?
>probably
>after all
>how can any of this be real?
>you certainly can't be a small filly right now
>you certainly can't be suspended by your forehooves from magenta chains in the ceiling
>though, if you were, the shackles would have to be very tight
>to keep your hooves from slipping through
>they'd have to be tight enough to bite into your skin
>tight enough to draw blood
>dimly, it occurs to you to investigate
>you turn your head to look at one of the shackles
>sure enough, there's little drops of red dripping from it
>the hooves themselves look kind of purple, too
>just like the last umpteen times you checked
>this dream sure is comprehensive
>a hard, lavender object hits the crown of your head
>and you're looking down at your body again
>it's so small
>covered with dozens of cuts and bruises
>the air is rattling in your throat
>once again, the sensation of pain begins to divorce itself from your consciousness
>a little bit of black creeps in on the edge of your vision
>it's getting hard to breathe
>and you're drifting
>a deeper state of sleep
>hopefully the dream within the dream is nicer than the dream itself
>the act of drawing in air has finally become too much effort
>you give up on it
>it's time to rest for a while
<"Oh no, you don't!"
>something warm rises from beneath you
>you're lifted up
>the tension on your shoulders is relieved
>breathing hurts, but it's possible now, and instinct forces you to take great gasping breaths of life-giving air
>now you're lying on a pony's back
>a purple unicorn
>something vague clicks in your memory
"Hey... did you ever pick up that ring?"

>you are Twilight
>keeping Anon's forelegs tensed over her head is a quick and dirty way of inducing slow asphyxiation
>history tells you that in a less enlightened time, before the Princess, this was a popular method of torture
>and sometimes an enlightened mare must do unenlightened things
>it's somehow... unsatisfying though
>over these past few days, you've become aware of a strange new need
>when you smacked Anon over the head just a minute ago, that relieved your need somewhat
>but somehow, this method overall just doesn't do it for you
>standing by and watching Anon wheeze
>lifting her up on your back every so often to make sure she doesn't lose consciousness
>it feels like you're conducting some kind of experiment
>not that there's anything wrong with experiments
>but this isn't research
>this is justice
>a soft, steady breathing from behind you tells you that Anon has fallen asleep on your back
>aw
>isn't that sweet?
>you teleport out from under her
>Anon falls
>the chain snaps taut
>something else snaps too
>her shoulder is sticking out of her barrel at a strange angle
>dislocated
>she's screaming now
>you take a deep, shuddering breath
>now that
>is satisfying
>however, you should probably let her down before her foreleg is torn off
>with a wave of your horn, the chains cease to exist
>Anon falls to the floor with a squeak
>save for a rapid, unsteady rising and falling of her ribs, she does not move
"You've distracted me from my studies long enough, you little monster."
>a swift kick of your foreleg sends her flying into a bookshelf
>Spike sighs as books scatter everywhere
>you smile
"Don't worry about it, Spike. I'll clean this up later."
>"You're the boss."
>with that, you head up the stairs to your study
>you haven't been back to the Restricted Archives since the Princess confronted you, it's true
>but you already understood enough about restricted magic to make some notes of your own
>you allow a soft giggle to escape your lips
>soon, it won't matter if Anon's leg gets torn off

>you are…
>Anon?
>you are Anonymous A. Faget the 2nd
>you were born a man on a world called Earth
>of that much you're certain
>that much feels correct and in order in your mind
>after that though…
>you…
>arrived, through an unknown means, in a land called Equestria, presumably not on Earth
>did that much happen?
>you think so
>you remember a period of acclimation to your new home, wherein you were convinced of its reality
>if you believed it was real then, you may as well believe it was real now
>okay, moving on
>the next major shakeup to your life was…
>you became a small, talking horse?
>how can that be real?
>well, you already accepted the existence of such talking horses when you accepted the reality of Equestria
>another staple of Equestria is a force known as magic, by which strange and unaccountable things often happen
>wait, magic?
>yes, magic is demonstrably real; you've seen it many times since arriving in this land and you were convinced of its reality during your acclimation to Equestria
>if you were convinced of it then, you may as well be convinced of it now
>okay, so it's theoretically possible that you could indeed be a filly right now
>there was even a brief acclimation period of a few days, where you came to accept that this was at least temporarily the case
>check, so you were indeed changed by magic into a small, talking pony of an age-and-sex group known as filly
>so what the hell happened after that?
>you're currently lying on the floor
>one of your forelegs is in so much pain as to be completely unusable
>or… it was in pain?
>for some reason you're not feeling pain right now
>though it is awfully cold
>that's a symptom of shock, right?
>or is it a symptom of hell?
>somewhere, a door opens
>somewhere, hoofsteps clack closer and closer
>you know those hoofsteps
>they're the hoofsteps of the devil
>well if the devil is here
>then it must be hell
>the devil is standing over you know
>somehow, you're vaguely aware that the devil resembles a lavender unicorn mare by the name of Twilight Sparkle
>but his disguise is somewhat lacking
>after all, unicorn mares don't spew green smoke from their eyes
>the devil lowers his single horn to your injured shoulder
>and it lights up with the indescribable sight of black light
>the devil rises and stares at you with an appraising gaze
>and…
>pain
>pain returns to your shoulder
>pain returns to your whole body
>dozens of small cuts and bruises heat up like brands
>but worst of all is the shoulder
>you can't hold back
>you must scream

>you are Twilight
>you've decided to combine pleasure and work a bit
>currently, you're testing the ability of restricted magic to heal wounds
>this is critical to legitimizing your research
>after all, if restricted magic can heal, then it can't be truly "dark" magic, now can it?
>in any case, it looks like this first attempt is working
>Anon's dislocated shoulder is slowly but surely returning to its normal shape, signifying that the joint is being reinserted into its socket
>granted, it's slow
>granted, it looks - and sounds - extremely painful
>but that's why these sorts of things are tested on low-value subjects before being presented to respectable ponies
>and what could be a lower-value test subject than the worm writhing on the floor at your hooves?
>the urge to kick her again rises up in your throat like a bad heartburn
>but you hold off for the moment, not wanting to interrupt the testing

>you are Anon
>the fire on your hide cools
>the stretching in your shoulder bones ceases
>in short, the pain subsides
>you are exhausted
>every breath in is a gasp
>every breath out is a sob
>the thought of all this being real is monstrously inconceivable
>but you can't dream pain
>much less agony
>the last of the pain escapes through your skin, dragging drops of cold sweat with it
>your muscles don't relax so much as they go limp
>you can't even muster the effort to brace yourself when you see the devil's hoof swinging in for another kick
>it's only a short ditance to the shelf behind you
>a pair of dull thwacks
>a pair of new bruises
>the devil recedes
<"Spike, I'm going out for a bit. Make sure Anon doesn't get into any trouble while I'm gone."
>"Aw, Anon doesn't get into trouble."
<"Just make sure."
>"You're the boss."
>the devil leaves the building
>for a few minutes, you focus on breathing
>in
>and out
>this is the least pain you've felt in days
>so you hazard to put one hoof on the floor
>and another
>and soon you're heaved up to all fours
>for the first time in days, you don't feel the need to retreat into your mind
>your surroundings present no immediate threat of pain
>hell, when did you get so…
>analytical?
>on the other side of the room, Spike is peacefully feather-dusting a book case
>now, in the back of your mind, you still hold some amount of doubt that any of this is real
>or rather, you still hold some amount of hope that it isn't real
>there's still one element to this whole experience that's too strange for you to believe
>Spike
>before Twilight Sparkle came home, Spike was downright friendly with you
>and after she came home, Spike has shown absolutely no interest in the ultra-violence his employer has inflicted upon you
>whether he's in favor of it or against it, you'd expect to see some kind of reaction from the little guy, wouldn't you?
>you hazard a step
>and another
>it feels like you won't have to limp
>so you trot across the room, naturally, to the small dragon
"Hey, Spike."
>"Hm. What's up?"
"This is all really bizarre to me, so I'm just gonna come out and ask you this. You know Twilight's been torturing me right over there for the past three days, right?"
>Spike throws up his claws
>"Hey, if you guys wanna play foals' games, I'm not judging. I-I'm, uh, totally not jealous either."
"Brutal beatings are a foals' game to you?"
>"Yeah, I was never able to beat Twilight at play-wrestling either. It's weird though, she hasn't wanted to romp around like that since she was little."
>there's definitely something strange about Spike
>it's like you're not even speaking the same language right now
>there's no way he's seeing what's happening and waving it off as play
>however, he's still shown no signs of hostility thus far
>so if you can't communicate information to him, maybe you can get a little information out of him
"Whatever. How do I get out of this place?"
>"Huh? The fridge is still right over there, Anon."
"No, not the fridge, the front door. Or better yet, the back door. I haven't seen the Sun since I got here."
>"Eh, Twilight said you might ask for meat. Sorry, all we've really got is hay. It's an acquired taste, but you'll get used to it, I promise."
>you shake your head
>it's like he's incapable of hearing what you're trying to say
>it's strange and unaccountable
>and in this world, magic is the means by which strange and unaccountable things occur
>so…
>check, there's probably some sort of magic at work preventing Spike from seeing what Twilight Sparkle is doing
>shit
>that accounts for every objection you had to this nightmare being real
>"Uh, Anon. Don't get upset, just get some hay. It'll be all right."
>your stomach lets out an unearthly noise at this prompting
>your knees nearly give out
>you don't think you've eaten in days
"You know what? Sure. I think I'll do that."

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>you are hungrily eyeing the selection of knives, blades, and other cutting instruments of Canterlot Cutlery
>the proprietor of the place strokes his mustache in thought
>"So, uh, what exactly do you need a knife for, Miss Sparkle?"
"Cooking. I'm trying to get into cooking."
>"Of course. But, uh, what kind of cooking?"
>Sun above, you don't know what to go with
>there's great, big knives like you might use to cut a potato in half
>little split blades like you might use to peel the skin off of that potato first
>broad graters of the sort you'd use to shred cheese
>thin, sharp knives that don't look so different from a scalpel, probably for softer produce like tomatoes
>decent selection of forks and spoons, too
"Well, all kinds of cooking, I guess."
>"All kinds?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Dicey."
>inhale
"I want to try everything."

>you are Anon
>you're not sure if you were supposed to prepare that hay somehow
>but it was actually quite palatable on your new palate
>with the exception of a couple bruises, you no longer have any major sources of physical discomfort
>at last, you can think straight
>it's silly to go on denying that this is happening
>everything that's happened these past three days
>it's all real
>it was a shock to your system at first
>it was all just… so out of nowhere
>you couldn't properly react to the new situation
>but your captor made a mistake
>she gave you time to think
>you have a decision to make
>a decision of the sort which you sometimes imagined being faced with in your old life
>a decision of the sort which you always feared you wouldn't be strong enough to make
>a decision you've already made
"I'm not gonna take this shit sitting down."

>>252364
>you're still Anon
>with a fuller stomach, and some more time to think
>something odd occurs to you
>why did you ask Spike where the front door was?
>you entered this tower through the front door, didn't you?
>you must have
>why can't you seem to remember?
>well
>Twilight usually comes up those stairs over there, right?
>that's probably a good place to start
>escaping this hell to report this bitch to the cops seems like a logical first thing to try
>so you head to the downward staircase
>and just walk right down it
>it almost feels easier than it should be
>there's nothing to block your journey or endanger you along the way
>not even one of those little fences you use to corral pets and kids
>eventually, you reach the bottom of the staircase
>and you're...
>back on the main library level?
>looking up the stairs you've just come down, you see that it's the stairwell leading up to the loft and Twilight's room
>the downward stair well is on the other side of the room still
>that's certainly strange
>you try again, with the feeling that it's not going to work this time either
>and once again, you end up back at the main library level
>you sigh
>you should have known there was a reason why Twilight Sparkle never bothered to restrain you in any way
>it's strange
>it's unaccountable
>it's magic
>if there are any backdoors, they probably have similar magic surrounding them
>you trot back over to the downward stairwell
>and you sigh
>waltzing right out the front door was probably a far-fetched hope to begin with

>you are Twilight
>trotting home with a shopping bag full of goodies from Canterlot Cutlery, you feel pretty good right now
>you're about to feel a whole lot better
>your horn buzzes
>you grin
>it buzzes again
>your grin grows into a big, bright smile
>looks like Anon found the door enchantments
>yet another trick you wouldn't be able to pull off with more mundane types of magic
>the precision offered by restricted magics allows you to place enchantments that can target just one pony
>it feels good to know that your spell worked
>it feels even better to know that Anon is misbehaving
>you glance at your bag of knives
>walking is suddenly too slow
>the once-difficult task of drawing restricted magical power into your horn comes now without a second thought
>and your horn lights up
>and you disappear from the Canterlot street

>you are Anon
>a flash of black light sends you sprawling backwards
>Twilight Sparkle grins at you, and drops a bag full of some sort of metal objects on the floor
<"Having fun with my enchantments, are we?"
>all thoughts of "not taking this shit sitting down" are banished from your consciousness as a wave of pure terror rises from the deepest part of your gut
>not that such thoughts were likely to do you much good
>you're enveloped in tingly, magenta light
>then your body goes flying
>and then you're pinned to the wall, completely immobilized by tight, magenta shackles
>it doesn't hurt as much as the chains
>but at least you could struggle in the chains
>Twilight draws something long, thin, and shiny from her bag
<"Bad filly..."
>should you protest?
>plead?
>lash out with a defiant one-liner?
>it doesn't matter
>even your mouth is bound tightly shut
>so when Twilight drags the blade of the knife across your belly
>you can't even scream

>you are Twilight
>you've only just made the barest scratch on her hide
>and already, muffled whines are escaping through her sealed lips
>you can see the muscles and tendons beneath her skin contracting and bulging uselessly as she strains against her bonds
>it's the tears though
>the tears welling up in Anon's eyes are what draw a deep sigh of delight from your lungs
"You big baby."
>you've made some revisions to your restricted healing spell
>you could say that there are two "branches" of the spell now
>one of these is, as you originally planned to develop it, somewhat faster and slightly less painful than the original
>the other is...
>the opposite of that
>no prizes for guessing which one you're trying on Anon right now
>judging by volume of Anon's throat noises, it hurts far worse than the cut itself did
>good
>you can test out the other branch later
>but for now
>you just intend to enjoy yourself
>unfortunately, you don't yet trust the spell to heal life-threatening injuries
>there's nothing you'd like more than to jab the biggest cleaver in your collection straight into her gut again and again and again
>you're sure you'll be able to do just that before the Summer Sun Celebration rolls around
>but today you'll have to settle for something a bit more precise
>so you carefully insert the thin blade into her left nostril
>the sharp metal breaks through the thin layer of skin and cartilage easily
>more noises, more high-pitched this time
>air is expelled in great quantities through Anon's expanded nostril in a desperate bid to keep the blood out of her windpipe
>blood and mucus and a small crumb of filly hide are carried into your face and you're screaming
"That! Is! Disgusting!"
>you lash out and leave a quick incision on her lips
"Bad filly!"
>another cut appears on her forehead
"Bad!"
>you jam the knife through both her cheeks and leave it there
"I think that's enough for today."
>with a wave of your horn, the shackles disappear, and Anon crumples gracelessly on the floor
>another wave of your horn, and the special healing spell begins its work on her
>ear-piercing shrieks permeate the air as her cheeks attempt to rebuild themselves around the sharp metal still embedded through them
>you wipe the filth from your face and resist the urge to yank that knife out of her mouth and impale her throat on it
>you wouldn't want to put an end to her punishment too soon, after all
"I'll take that out tomorrow if you behave yourself."
>grin
"In the meanwhile, I'd try not to talk too much if I were you."

Part 4:

>you are Anon
>for weeks now, every day has been the same
>when Twilight is around, you curl up in a corner
>and you try not to be noticed
>and more importantly
>you watch
>you spend your days observing Twilight's daily routine
>looking for some chink in her armor
>you've learned to meticulously monologue every detail of what you see
>most days, she doesn't go out
>when she doesn't go out, her day goes approximately as follows:
>step one: wake up late in the morning
>with each passing day she wakes up a bit later
>comes down from her room a bit groggier
>someday you might be able to take advantage of that
>but for now it's just a detail
>step two: grab some books and disappear back upstairs
>very, very rarely do you see her eat breakfast
>for the first few days she would generally eat whatever Spike cooked
>but as time went on, she started to skip this ritual more and more often
>now, Spike eats alone almost every morning
>it's far from uncommon to hear strange noises and hysterical laughter drifting down from Twilight's study while she's up there
>just what sort of ghoulish research she's engaged in, you can't guess
>step three: at some point between 10:00 and 13:00, she'll come downstairs and make herself a light lunch
>something simple, such as a thin hay sandwich
>she's usually in a good mood when she does this
>frequently humming or singing to herself
>her head lost somewhere in the clouds
>again, something you might be able to take advantage of in the future
>step four: back to her studies
>but this time, she tends to stay on the main library level
>whatever she's reading in the afternoon, she clearly doesn't feel as though she needs as much privacy as she does in the morning
>she just lies on the floor
>reading some book or other
>for all you know she could just be enjoying a novel
>Twilight is perfectly still as she reads, completely absorbed by the words on the page
>at first glance, this might seem like a moment you could take advantage of
>in reality, the stillness and silence would work against you
>any noise or movement within her perception instantly proves to be an intolerable distraction for her
>thus, she snaps from perfect oblivion to the world into rapt attention as quick as she can think
>step five: Twilight handles dinner preparations herself, starting at 16:00
>and she prepares some large dinners
>Twilight Sparkle eats ravenously at night, taking more servings than even her growing dragon companion
>after this, she chats with Spike a bit while he does the dishes
>step six: she retires upstairs promptly at 19:00
>for a while there are more of the strange noises and laughter which punctuated the morning
>with each passing night, the noises go on longer and longer
>last night, she didn't go quiet til 2 in the morning
>but eventually the sounds die down, and you presume she goes to sleep
>once you're certain Twilight won't be showing up again til morning, you risk leaving your corner
>this is when you raid food from the refrigerator
>take bathroom breaks
>of course, it's also when you sleep
>you used to use this time to hunt for exits
>windows, chimneys, something
>but there's nothing you're physically capable of reaching
>and many of these exits are magically tripwired to Twilight somehow
>so getting too close often brings down "extra play time"
>it's not possible for you to place "play time" at any definite time within Twilight's daily schedule
>at some point during the day, she glances in your direction
>and she scowls
>next thing you know, you're pinned to the wall
>the floor
>the table
>the ceiling
>immobilized, silenced, and helpless
>the only thing more horrifying than the knives themselves?
>the fact that it's not all that horrifying anymore

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>Anon is bound to the kitchen table
>you swish the knife along one leg of the gradually-deepening X on her abdomen
>gone are the muffled screams
>gone are the tears
>she barely even grunts as her flesh is scored by your blade
>with another flick of the knife, you even out the X
>then, you let the knife clatter to the table
>this isn't satisfying anymore
>the worst part about it?
>her eyes
>with each passing day, Anon's eyes grow harder
>colder
>glancing at them now, you feel an intolerable persecution radiating from their dull glare
"Quit looking at me like that."
>you puntuate your statement by picking up the knife and burying it in her flank
>would you believe the gall of this filly?
>her eyes actually grow narrower at that
>is that... contempt in her gaze?
>hypocrite!
>as though Anon of all ponies has the right to judge you!
"I said... quit looking at me like that."
>she doesn't
>this is a problem
>she's getting belligerent
>today she's glaring at you
>tomorrow, who knows what she might do?
>it's something you're going to nip in the bud right here and right now
"You're gonna regret this."
>you position the knife directly over Anon's eyeball
>for an instant you hesitate
>of course, you've made great progress on your healing spell these past few weeks
>but is it really ready to regenerate entire body parts?
>Anon glares unwaveringly at the blade hovering less than an inch away from her eye
>eh
>it'll probably be fine
>with surgical precision, you slit Anon's left eye open from top to bottom, being careful to pierce only the outer membrane
>in spite of herself, Anon lets out a high-pitched whine at that
>your heart is beating just a little bit faster and you're smiling now
>gingerly, you place your lips over Anon's ruined eye
>like a mother kissing her foal all better
>except you're going to kiss it worse
>you suck hard through your mouth
>in spite of her tightly shut eyelid, Anon's eye comes spilling out into you
>blood and puss and other fluids you can't be bothered to remember right now coat your teeth and your tongue
>the taste is vile
>but the noise Anon is making is so...
>very...
>sweet
>you swallow Anon's eye-fluids and stand up straight to examine your hoofwork
>the way her eyelid is flapping uselessly over its empty socket
>the way those sounds are erupting from her throat
>the way she's straining so hard that she actually manages to writhe a bit in spite of her bonds
>it gets you excited
>you position the knife over her good eye and she futilely clenches her good eyelid shut against your assault
>you meant to slit the outer membrane again
>but you can't control yourself
>and you jab the knife into her eye and now you're twisting it around like a fork in spaghetti and her lips peel back as far as the clamp on her mouth will allow just so she can finally let out something resembling a proper scream and something warm and fuzzy bubbles up from your stomach and you sigh in ecstasy
"You know what? I think I was getting bored with our play time, Anon. Worse, I think you were getting bored with it too."
>you pluck the eye out of its socket and savor it as you slurp it into your mouth
>once you've properly mashed it into a thick, smooth pulp, you lean over Anon's face
>Anon's eyeball is dripping from your tongue onto her nostrils and you can see her frantic exhalations spraying droplets of it into the air as she desperately tries not to drown in it
>once you're finished with that, you lick her cheek to wipe the excess eyeball residue from your tongue so you can finish what you were saying to her
"But that's all over now, I promise."
>you doubt she can hear you over her own pathetic whimpering so you make a point of bringing your lips close to her ears so she can relish every word as much as you do
"Starting tomorrow, we're taking play time to a whole new level."

>you are Princess Celestia
>there are two reasons why you take personal proteges
>one of these is to ensure that powerful unicorns don't stray down dangerous paths
>you haven't succeeded at this every single time
>but when you look back at the centuries, you're glad to say that failures have been few and far between
>the other reason why you take personal students under your wing is to produce heroes
>it's not that you couldn't do hero-work yourself, of course
>but in the end, that would do more harm for Equestria than good
>ordinary ponies shouldn't go through life with an inferiority complex for you
>mortal heroes are necessary so that Equestria can be inspired by imitatable role models
>the heroic spirit of Equestrian history is what keeps your little ponies from becoming totally tame
>after all, if they always relied on you and you alone in times of trouble, what would happen to them if something happened to you?
>furthermore, you're limited in your capacity as a hero these days
>ever since you lost her, you haven't been able to perform light magic
>and the night is fast approaching when light magic will be the only thing that can save Equestria
>you sigh into your tea
>you'd hoped to have molded Twilight into a hero by this point
>but with her recent setback, you're still not sure she won't become a villain
>of course, you've seen no traces of darkness - magical or otherwise - about her in your periodic observations through Spike's eyes
>but that won't make her a hero
>especially not the sort of hero that's going to be needed soon
>light magic is inherently collaborative
>it requires strong relationships with other ponies
>Twilight, much to your worry, has been drifting away from her old school friends
>that's normal enough, in and of itself
>but drifting away from foalhood friends is supposed to be followed by drifting toward new friends
>Twilight doesn't seem to be progressing in that direction
>she just sits around in that tower all day
>Twilight's recent near-fall is going to make molding her a very delicate task
>it's very important to give her space as she recovers from her experiments with dark magic
>if she thinks you're forcing recovery on her, she might have a relapse
>a sip from your tea reveals that it's grown cold as you've sat here worrying
>you don't particularly like taking over Spike's mind
>but you're going to have to do it more often in these coming weeks
>you need to start dropping suggestions to goad Twilight in the right direction
>and perhaps more importantly
>you need to watch her very...
>very...
>closely

>you are Anon
>you're not sure how long it took for your eyes to stop burning
>but once they did, you found that you could see again
>more importantly, you could think again
>darkness streams in through the windows and tells you that it's late at night
>taking "play time" to a whole new level, she said
>after she fucking ate your eyes or some shit
>you blink several times and shudder despite the warm spring night
>you don't want to find out what she meant by that
>a man is sitting on the floor beside you
>"They say it's better to be judged by twelve than carried by six."
"I could be carried by just one."
>"Judged by one too, considering that Miss Sparkle is close friends with the absolute monarch."
"Thanks. What's the penalty for mareslaughter in this country again?"
>he shrugs
>"Who cares?"
>with that, the man winks
>and disappears
"Good point."
>Twilight didn't bother to clean up after "play time"
>you're still lying on the table
>and the knife she mutilated you with is sitting right next to you
>you take the handle into your mouth
>she's always groggy in the morning...

>you're still Anon
>the handle of the knife is made of soft wood
>you can feel the groove your teeth have worn into it after hours of holding it there
>bits and crumbs of wood soften and fall away to coat your tongue
>apparently, you've been practically drooling on the thing this whole time
>orange sunrise shines in through the windows
>Spike shuffles by you, seeming to take no notice of the flashing metal sticking from your jaw
>orange sunlight fades to pale morning
>still you wait
>the sound of your own heartbeat roars dully in your ears
>drops of sweat crawl from your brow and slither into your brand new eyes
>despite the sting, you make no effort to wipe these away
>pale morning gives way to brilliant noon
>at last, the doorknob glows
>rattles
>and turns
>the door to Twilight's bedroom swings open

>you are Twilight
>still blinking sleep out of your eyes, you make out the monstrous thing writhing in your magical grasp
>Anonymous
>she's making motions as though she thinks she can swim through your aura
>swinging her head around wildly in some sort of vain attempt to scratch you with one of your own knives
>a part of you is amused at how pathetic it all is
>another part of you has taken intolerable offense to the fact that a vile little pest like this has dared to raise her hoof against you
>the offended part of you wins out
>so much the worse for her
>the first thing you do is yank the knife from her grasp
>then, you raise your hoof
>it is deeply, deeply satisfying to feel her jaw crunch under the weight of your blow
>but you groan as you remember your plans for play time today
>you're going to need her jaw intact for this
>so you slam her into the floor til her gaze fades from hateful to empty
>satisfied that she's too dazed to struggle anymore, you drop her
>and you hit her with the slowest, most excruciating variant of the healing spell you've devised to date
>her mouth is too deformed to hold a proper scream so instead she's just sort of gurgling loudly on the floor
"When you're done with that, meet me in the kitchen."
>you're not sure if she's paying attention so you give her a solid kick in the gut just to be sure
"I said meet me in the kitchen. We'll have breakfast together."

>you are still Twilight
>you've got everything set up in the kitchen
>now just where could that filly be?
>she should be ready to come down by now
>go figure, for some reason she hasn't come yet
>no matter
>you can just grab her
>with a flash of your horn, Anon poofs into existence on one of the kitchen chairs
>she's breathing heavily
>looking around rapidly
>probably admiring the layout of blades on the counter
>but her eyes settle on you
>and they narrow into tiny slits of hatred
>this irritates you, and ruins your good mood
>fortunately, you're going to need a bad mood for what's coming next
"You know, Anon, you've been living under my roof for over a month now, and I don't think we've ever really had a chance to talk."
>her nostrils flare, but otherwise she does not respond to your statement
"What's your favorite food, Anon?"
>her eyebrow cocks
>but otherwise she does not react to your question
>you whip the thin knife out in front of her eye
"I asked you a question, Anonymous."
>Anon's dull glare intensifies into a scowl
>but her face ultimately softens
>which is good
>you'd prefer for her to see every second of what you're about to do to her body
<"Bacon."
"Bacon, huh? I don't know what that is. Is it a meat dish?"
<"Yes."
>you withdraw the knife
"I thought so. You were a monster before I defeated you, after all. I don't even want to think about how many innocent animals died for your dinner plate."
>you telekinetically retrieve a broad tome from the library and float it over
"We have monsters here in Equestria, too. This right here is a griffon cookbook."
>you make a show of opening the book and flipping around as though you're looking for something
>but you already decided on your recipe
>and griffon recipes - even recipes that have been strictly forbidden in Griffonstone for centuries - are famously simple
"Tell me, Anon. How does... pony rump sound to you?"
>suddenly, her coat seems just a shade lighter
"Of course, we'll need a donor for the pony rump."
>you look around the library as if in search of a raised hoof
"Anyone? Anyone? Going once?"
>you give Anon the friendliest smile you can muster while looking at her
>which probably isn't very friendly
"Well... I guess there's just you."

>you are Anon
>something hoists you into the air by a rear leg
>and now something with teeth is biting into your ass
>a long knife with serrated edges
>she's sawing your fucking asscheek off
>try as you might to deny her the satisfaction, a long, loud groan erupts from your lungs
>she saws faster at that
>the sharp pain is obvious, and need hardly be mentioned
>the sensation of your flesh flapping against itself nauseates you and you're heaving but all that comes out are stinging, yellow drops of acid
>for a moment, it feels like it's going to be too much
>your mind begins to recede into itself like it did when you were on the chains
>no
>you won't turn away from this
>you won't be broken
>every score of the knife is an entry on your record of her crimes
>and you will be her accuser
>at last, your wretching elicits a mouthful of firey choler
>you spit it out in your tormentor's face but she doesn't react except to throw away the knife and she starts tearing at what's left of your asscheek with her magic
>the knife was good clean fun compared to this new sensation
>you feel every doomed muscle fiber screech as they're all torn apart one by one
>with a savage yank of her head, she succeeds in ripping your flank away from your body, and she casually drops you back into the chair
>your head is loling off the edge of the seat and you hear a plopping noise from the table and now she's saying something but you're too fucking COLD to pay her any attention
>her hooves reach down and rougly set you into am upright sitting position but you fall in the direction of your severed asscheek
<"What's the matter with you? Sit up when I make food for you!"
>can't sit up without your fucking glutes, you try to tell her
>but your mouth won't respond to the command to speak except to let out breathy, incoherent gibbering
>your body is in shock
>Twilight sets you upright again, this time securing you in place by impaling a foreleg to the table and your good rear leg to the chair with long spikes
>the sensation of being pierced is distant
>it's like you're watching someone else getting a flu shot
>you bite your own tongue to recall yourself to lucid thought
>you're not going to allow yourself to slip into your head this time
>that's when you catch sight of the plate in front you
>and you wonder if perhaps you should try to retreat into that merciful state of quasi-insanity
>a hunk of filly rump, coated on one side with your own hide, lies on the plate
<"Well? Arent you gonna eat?"
>for some reason, the first objection to enter your mind is that the dish is undercooked
"R... r... r..."
<"Hm?"
"It's... raw..."
<"What? Do they cook the murdered animals where you're from?"
>a salty strand of drool falls from your mouth as you nod in response
<"Well, the recipe says to serve it raw. If it's good enough for ancient griffon warriors, it's good enough for you. Now eat it!"
>and it's today
>today, as you stare at your own raw asscheek bleeding on a crystal plate
>a book called "Anonymous A. Faget" closes
>and a new book opens
>you're not sure what it's called yet
>but its opening paragraph is as follows:
>this, too, shall come to pass
>someday, you'll be big again
>someday, she'll be old
>then, you'll claim your revenge
>in the meanwhile, resistance of every kind has proven utterly futile
>so for now, you need to cope
>yes
>for now, just survive
>but someday...
>vengeance
>the words are written in the pages of your mind
>you lean forward
>and take a bite

Part 5:

>you are Twilight
>Anon ended up eating her own flank without complaint
>no protests
>no crying
>no squeamishness
>it's as though the instant she tasted flesh, she became a whole new pony
>she's a monster
>more than you ever knew, Anonymous is a monster
>you didn't bother casting the healing spell on her
>you haven't done so in weeks
>instead, you cauterized the wound with a hot frying pan
>infuriatingly, she didn't so much as squeak at the burning metal's touch
>she's been caged in your study ever since
>though, to be honest, she probably doesn't need the cage at this point
>after all, you did hack off her legs the other day
>by hack, by whack, by slice, by score, by saw
>each blow meticulously timed to make the procedure last about 12 hours
>it was the first time you'd drawn screams out of her since you sawed off her flank
>you'd think that a good day like that would have been almost satisfying enough to put you in a coma
>but it wasn't
>somehow, it just wasn't
>you need catharsis
>you need relief
>Anon hears you fumbling around with your desk, and turns her head to look at you
>of course, she can't actually look at you
>gouging out her eyes was one of the first things you did after putting her in the cage
>somehow, that's only served to make her gaze more hateful
>her blackened-reddish eye sockets are unnerving in the extreme
>and the sense of persecution you feel from them is ten times worse than it was when they held eyes
>still, you refuse to heal her
>she's going to suffer more before she gets her legs back
>she's going to give you your release before you give her back her eyes
>it's a perfectly fair trade
>since you haven't been testing out the healing spell, you've been faltering in your studies of restricted magic
>the sweetness its arts once offered you has grown harder and harder to reach every day
>the world is grey and sensationless
>even actual colors suddenly seem dull and muted to your eyes now
>Anon's gaze has grown to be too much
>you crack
"What? What do you want?"
>she doesn't respond
>she just breathes
"You want your legs? You want your eyes?"
>silence
"Well TAKE them then! Here!"
>you close your eyes
>and focus
>restricted magic flows into your horn
>no, dark magic flows into your horn
>it all seems so hateful now
>you channel that hate into even more dark magic
>forming it
>twisting it
>mutiliating it
>until it's become the slowest, most painful healing spell ever devised by mare
>by your estimate, it should be nothing less than 24 hours of unquenchable flame
>you cast it
>Anon's face tries to hold its stoic glare
>but in a few seconds
>a hairline crack appears in her composure
>the crack spiderwebs out into a grimace of agony
>and, finally, Anon shatters
>oh, how her screams now would have filled you with glee just two short months ago
>you try plastering a smile onto your face
>but it falls
>you feel nothing
"I'm going out."
>she doesn't hear you, obviously
>all the same, you head downstairs to the library
>grab your reading backlog, which has shrunk to a woefully short stack of just five or so books
>and you head outside without anything resembling a goal or destination anywhere in your mind
>about five minutes into your ramble, you realize that you forgot to lock the study behind you
>but the only one who could stumble into there is Spike
>and you trust the see no evil spell you cast on him completely by this point
>so
>on you ramble

>you are Princess Celestia
>tonight is the night
>you've hesitated too long with Twilight
>and now the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration is tomorrow at dawn!
>you just haven't been sure about her
>but today, you finally made your decision
>working through Spike, you slipped a book about Nightmare Moon into Twilight's reading backlog
>she's just left the tower with it
>even better, she left her study unlocked behind her
>it's the one part of the tower you haven't seen since the initial intervention
>once you get in there
>then surely
>the last of your doubts will be erased
>you extend your host's claw to push open the door
>Spike thinks he's entering Twilight's study to tidy it up
>in reality, of course, you're piloting his mind to examine the place
>the first thing you notice is laughter from the edge of the study
>there lies Anon, writhing with merriment
>come to think of it, you haven't seen Anon since that bizarre incident when Twilight appeared to tickle her with a frying pan
>but that was weeks ago…

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>you don't remember placing this volume in your backlog
>but it's affected you deeply
>on the surface, it appears to be a fairy story about an ancient sorceress named Nightmare Moon
>of course, you're aware of the tale
>you're even vaguely aware that there's a kernel of genuine history wrapped in it
>but never until this very day have you so much as considered that the legend might be nothing less than the absolute truth
>the tale ends with a prophecy that leaves you feeling uneasy
>"On the longest night of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape."
>the thousandth year of the Summer Sun Celebration
>tonight
>at long last, catharsis washes over you in an awesome wave
>the feeling comes not, as you supposed, from hatred
>but from compassion
>if there's even a shred of truth to this prophecy, then Princess Celestia is in danger
>your beloved teacher, in danger
>some part of you insists that there's no way any of this could be true
>but the sensation of feeling something again
>feeling anything
>you can't resist it
>the text mentions ancient devices known as the "Elements of Harmony" which were used to seal Nightmare Moon away in the ancient days
>if you could just find some sort of information on them…
>you get up
>and you gallop home to the library

>you are Princess Celestia
>a drop of red fluid lies on Twilight's desk
>Spike's draconic nose picks up a strong scent from it
>the thought of, "that's not cranberry sauce" wells up naturally from his own mind
>there is a drop of blood on Twilight's desk
>what's more, you're beginning to notice that Spike's field of vision shines in a peculiar way every so often
>back in your own body, your breath becomes shuddery as the most awful suspicions creep into your mind
>there's no way you've been deceived this whole time
>is there?
>delicately, your mind extends its feelers beyond the boundaries of Spike's brain
>sure enough, there's magic in his eyes
>though your study in your palace is designed to stay cool into the summer months, a drop of sweat falls into your eye and nearly breaks your concentration
>but your feelers extend further
>there's just beyond Anon, you feel…
>iron bars?
>finally
>you feel Anon herself
>all at once, your mind recoils in horror all the way back to your own senses
>you scream
>Equestria is doomed

>you are still Princess Celestia
>for a long time, you just sit there at your desk
>you can't stand up to Luna's hate
>not without the Elements
>no…
>there is another way…
>the Restricted Archives hold many ways in which you could defeat Nightmare Moon
>but you won't do that
>will you?
>you can't stand up to Luna's hate
>apparently, neither can Twilight
>she can't even stand up to her own hate
>the things you perceived when you felt poor Anon…
>Twilight has the potential to be one of the worst monsters Equestria has ever seen
>your sister won't bother to deal with your fallen student til she rises up to challenge her power
>which she most certainly will
>Twilight will manage devestate Equestria before Nightmare Moon succeeds in destroying her
>you won't be there to stop it
>a drop of sweat splashes onto your desk
>in your agony, you scarcely even notice that the drop is pink
>you're going to have to seal away your cherished student
>and right after that you'll have to fight - and lose to - your beloved sister
>the only way out is dark magic
>but where will that leave you?
>you and your sister, a pair of titanic demons, ravaging the world with deadly hatred?
>the eternal night would be better for your little ponies than that
>your face is buried in your hooves
>a thousand years to prepare for this day
>and you're no closer to the answer for it than you were on day one
>maybe you deserve to drown in Luna's hatred
>but, by your own blazing Sun, why do all the little ponies have to be hurt by it, too?
>ah, but Princess
>you've seen it more times than anyone
>the way that hope comes to shine forth from the bleakest despair
>a burst of green flame
>a letter from Twilight
>you seize it
>read it hungrily
>yes…
>yes!
>Twilight has just written to you about her "discovery" of Nightmare Moon's imminent return
>there's concern in her words
>compassion
>love, even!
>it's hope! it's hope!
>it's all you can do to keep yourself from devouring the letter
>there is a chance
>just the barest chance
>that Twilight might be redeemable
>why, if she can manage to activate the Elements of Harmony…
>their powerful light magic will be able to wipe away every trace of her experiments with dark magic
>her hatred for Anon could be wiped out as well
>but only if she's willing to let go of it
>and, of course, she has to manage to forge some friendships if she wants to use the Elements at all
>it's the barest chance
>the feeblest hope
>but you'll take it!
>your sister
>your student
>you'll save them both!
>now, what to write in response to Twilight's letter?
>you grab some parchment and a quill
>and you don't waste much time thinking about it
"My most faithful student…"

>you are Nightmare Moon
>after a thousand years, your return has come to pass
>you descend from the Moon on ebony wings upon the so-called "Castle of the Two Sisters"
>but you're surprised to find that the place is only a ruin now
>the thought of Celestia going and perishing without your being involved in it enrages you
>but you stay your quivering heart for a moment
>outside the Everfree, there is now a small village
>with dark magic, it's simple to creep among its ponies as a hidden miasma
>your fears are soon to be relieved
>Celestia has moved the capital to the top of nearby Canterlot Mountain
>even here in the village, you can see the revoltingly huge palace in which your sister must reside
>still in the guise of the miasma, you flit up the mountain
>in the dark of your night, the solar magic of your sister is easy to track
>she's in what appears to be a hospital wing of her palace
>she's tucking a filly into bed
>whispering something to her
"-been hurting you. That's over now. I promise."
>it doesn't seem like the ideal moment to reveal yourself
>but the sight of your hated sister drives your hatred beyond all control
>Celestia doesn't look up from the child
<"Luna."
>you're irritated that your sister isn't begging for mercy
>or even looking at you
>you glance at the filly she's standing over
>the child is horribly wounded
>her eyes are bleeding and deformed
>her legs are grotesquely-pulsating stumps
>the words you'd planned to cry in this moment fall away
"Who is she?"
<"A victim of the deadly hatred of a dark sorceress."
>you start at that
>yes…
>the way her limbs are re-generating
>that could only be a healing spell constructed from dark magic
>why anyone would write such a spell is beyond you
<"Take a good look at her. It's what you're about to do to the innocent ponies of this land."
>oh
>so she's guilting you
>your big sister
>who you once looked up to
>has stooped to using a wounded child
>of all things
>to shame you into canceling her night of reckoning
>she likely mutilated the poor thing herself
>your hatred shines bright like your full Moon once more
"No."
>your horn glows from blue to black as you prepare Celestia's punishment
"It's only what I'm going to do to you."

>you are Twilight Sparkle
>the night you've just had was almost incomprehensible
>the depth of what you've felt
>it all came from a form of love you never really valued before
>it all came from friendship
>and the climax of it all
>the catharsis
>real, genuine emotional release
>the awesome power of the Elements of Harmony surrounds you like a rainbow
>in the light of the rainbow, you realize something
>you're not really sure why you were ever angry with Anon
>everything you've done
>it was just needless cruelty
>in the light of the rainbow, there is no room for your anger
>the rainbow wants to move on to its target
>but it needs your help to do so
>it's asking you a question
>are you willing to let go of your hatred for her?
>the answer is yes
>the answer is yes!
>the whole mental exchange with that force beyond your comprehension lasts less than a second
>the rainbow homes in on Nightmare Moon
>you see her struggle at first
>but strangely
>near the end
>you see her relax
>as though she's letting go of a hatred, too
>and then
>everything turns white

>you are Anon
>by the time you could see again, you were in a brightly-lit hospital room
>Twilight came by, and she…
>cried
>she cried over you
>begged your forgiveness
>you did not speak to her
>she went away, seemingly satisfied
>Princess Celestia came by as well
>she's speaking to you right now
>it's hard to grasp every word of what she's saying
>but the gist of it is this:
>Twilight Sparkle has "changed"
>the princess thanks you for your role in that
>the princess is going to ensure that you'll be taken care of from now on
>on the condition, of course, that you don't tell anyone about the horrific suffering you've endured
>Twilight Sparkle is to enjoy a new life in Ponyville, in the company of her new friends
>throughout the princess' explanation, it seems to be implied that Twilight Sparkle will face no punishment for what she's done to you
>or at least, that's what you get out of what she's saying
>the sound of rushing blood in your ears does drown out a lot of Princess Celestia's words
>at some point, she stops talking
>she goes away, seemingly satisfied
>and in the silence of that bright hospital room
>you feel cheated