In an undetermined place...
Within a void wrapped in darkness, a bright point drifted through the most absolute blackness.
Tiny, flickering —like a hasty firefly crossing the night. An unsuspected purple crag was falling without restraint into nothingness.
[---]
There was no way to avoid it: it had succeeded.
A white fissure appeared among the shadows, outlining itself the way a smile would.
Indeed, it was a smile. But gigantic and sharp, spreading clear within a massive shape concealed by the darkness.
An unsettling figure, whose only visible features in the gloom were its horns, claws, and implacable shining eyes. And now, also, its newly discovered smile.
It was the silhouette of a beast, whose presence was fitting only for the desolate environment in which it existed.
A constant rumble, like the one caused by a hurricane making landfall, echoed around it. Of course, there was no sky and, much less, any wind to justify it. Only an absolute blackness. That, along with the near-weightlessness, the absence of smells and of light —except for the eerie glow emanating from the meteoric ground— created a scene that offered little (or rather, no) possibility of joy.
And yet, upon the surface of the purple rock drifting toward nothingness, joy had arisen.
It was the beast's joy —for it had finally found the light at the end of the tunnel… literally.
On the rocky ground, a massive crack had opened, from which emanated a faint and familiar glow that made the creature's eyes and teeth shine.
How long had it taken to pierce through the solid stone until it forged that insignificant fissure? The beast did not know, nor ever would; the question faded the moment tears of joy welled up in its enormous eyes.
Happiness. Genuine happiness poured inside it —a rapture that shook its body and made it howl loudly within the immeasurable void.
With no witnesses, the beast let its emotions run wild: it stomped on the rocks, rolled on the ground, and tore apart even more of the already battered surface of the crag.
It was a volcanic celebration —fitting for the feat it had just achieved.
After everything it had endured, after all the suffering it had withstood, that crack meant… hope?
Suddenly, the beast's movements ceased, as if it had just remembered something. A new emotion began to take hold of its face with growing intensity. A bitter expression spread across it as the vivid memory of a pony started to burn in the reflection of its eyes.
"Princess…" the beast roared into the void, with such force that even the hurricane-like rumble surrounding it was drowned out by its voice.
[---]
"THAT… IS… ENOUGH!" The intense, almost agonizing scream —followed by the sound of a slammed door in the kitchen— had been heard by everyone.
Rarity had left, abandoning her friends at the table, all stunned by her sudden outburst.
Not so surprised, at the other end of the table, was Applejack.
"Ahh…" sighed the farm pony, dropping the potato and peeler she had been holding into a pot.
"Achoo! …Was it something I said?" asked Fluttershy, worried, adjusting the mask she wore.
"Nope, it was more like something I didn't say," replied Applejack, as she began counting the seconds in her head. "(10… 9… 8… 7…)"
"And what didn't you say?" asked Pinkie Pie, poking her head out from under the table.
"How she'd be helping us prepare today's lunch," she answered flatly. "(3… 2… 1…)"
She hadn't even finished counting when, suddenly, the dining room door burst open.
Rarity had returned —but not as she had left. Now she came fully prepared for the challenge that, through a misunderstanding, Applejack had apparently proposed to her. The unicorn wore a full hazmat suit, equipped with a respirator and a sprayer that wouldn't stop misting alcohol into the air by means of her magic. She marched toward the kitchen amid the hiss of the respirator and the others' astonishment, walking straight toward Applejack.
The farm pony raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, despite the pungent scent of alcohol reaching her nose.
The two stared at each other, silently, for a brief yet heavy moment.
"Achoo!" another sneeze echoed through the tense atmosphere of the kitchen, ignored by everyone… except Pinkie Pie.
"I thought you were allergic to plastics," said the farm pony dryly, eyeing Rarity's flashy outfit.
"It's latex, darling. Completely different. And just to be clear, I'm allergic to plastics of types 3, 6, and 7 —especially polystyrene," replied Rarity with an affected tone of superiority, only slightly muffled by the pressurized helmet she wore.
At such an excess of caution and information, Applejack could only roll her eyes.
"You've got plastic cutlery at home…" objected Pinkie Pie, poking her head out again from beneath the table.
"They're for extreme emergencies —and Sweetie Belle is responsible for them," Rarity replied instantly, recovering her serious demeanor as she turned her gaze back toward Applejack, ignoring Pinkie as she ducked under the table once more.
"I see… allergies," Applejack said, unconvinced, adjusting with a hoof the nonexistent hat she wasn't wearing.
"Yes, allergies. And yet, despite my delicate condition, that's no reason to exclude me from the kitchen!" exclaimed Rarity, indignant.
"We're not excluding you, Rarity. We just started without you because we thought you were still feeling… a bit sick."
"We worry about your health. Prrr!" added Fluttershy, blowing her nose with a tissue. Pinkie Pie, now peeking again, nodded in agreement.
"I appreciate that. I know we're great friends who stand shoulder to shoulder through hardships like the one we're living now. But it's not necessary for you to sacrifice yourselves this way for me…"
"Actually, it's not really about that, Rarity. It's just that it's getting late and you hadn't shown up…" began Applejack.
"…so I ask you, please, to let me handle today's lunch as we had planned," finished the unicorn, stomping the floor for emphasis.
"We don't have a problem with that…" replied Applejack without looking toward the others. "But are you really sure you'll be fine in the kitchen?"
"Do I need to repeat myself, Applejack?" answered Rarity, her voice full of the determination she felt.
"No, you don't…" Applejack responded, her tone subdued, glancing at the peeled potatoes resting in a pot. "But if you're taking over, I should remind you we don't have as many supplies as we'd like," she explained, passing her a list that lay on the table.
Upon receiving and scanning it, Rarity grimaced immediately. But it was brief; in a blink, her confident expression returned beneath the shiny latex suit.
"I can manage, darling. I know how to do a lot with a little," she said with bright assurance.
"Alright then, all yours," said Applejack, with no desire to prolong the discussion. She gave up her seat to her friend, and as she did, a faint smile crossed her face —the first since Rarity's return. With the argument finally settled, the ponies could breathe easy again and go on with their morning tasks.
Or almost all of them.
"Aaachoo!" Fluttershy sneezed again, this time drawing everyone's attention by how forceful it was.
"Heavens, dear, this horrible place is taking a toll on you too," said Rarity, aghast, quickly floating a piece of tissue to her friend while spraying more alcohol into the air with her sprayer.
"Thanks, Rarity," said Fluttershy with relief, wiping her nose as a stream of mucus began to leak out. The intense alcohol smell around her wasn't helping.
"Maybe you should step outside a bit, sugarcube. Some fresh air might help you recover," suggested Applejack, equally uncomfortable with the alcohol-laden air.
"What fresh air? Do you want to poison her even more out there?"
"It's just an idea. Staying in here isn't helping either."
"Going outside alone won't help her at all," snapped Rarity, clashing her gaze again with Applejack's.
But before either could say another word, a soft voice rose between them.
"Girls, it's fine. That's enough…" Fluttershy began, standing up in a conciliatory tone. "I would like to go outside, Rarity… but not alone. Applejack, will you come with me?" she finished, looking at her friend.
"Go with you? Why, of course!" answered Applejack, jumping up beside Fluttershy. Rarity, meanwhile, still wore a look of disapproval.
"Pinkie, do you want to come too?" asked Fluttershy to her hidden pink friend.
"Eh, no, no, I'm good, girls. I'll stay here helping Rarity in the kitchen…" replied Pinkie Pie from under the table in a strangely uninterested tone. They couldn't see her because of the long white tablecloth that covered the table, but she sounded… busy. Doing what, none could tell.
Though slightly puzzled by this, the other two ponies didn't insist. They started heading for the door —until another voice stopped them from behind.
"Wait!" cried Rarity, standing up. "A walk with company is a good idea, but if she's going outside, she should at least do so with protection."
"Protection?" asked Applejack, just as she saw Rarity pull another latex suit from a bag. "Oh, no no! That's too much. I'm not putting on that fairground costume to go outside."
"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about her," Rarity said, pointing at Fluttershy.
"Oh… uh… but…" Fluttershy began, but stopped at Rarity's determined look. "Alright… I suppose."
The conversation in the kitchen continued. But at the same time...
Out of sight and hearing of the others, Pinkie Pie was sniffing intensely beneath the table's belly, brushing the hard plastic surface with the tip of her nose like a hound searching for its prey. Immersed in that strange trance, she whispered softly, almost inaudibly:
"I know you're there, little one… you can't hide from Pinkie Pie's nose… my precious…" she finished, nearly licking her lips.
[---]
The echoes of the kitchen, along with the sharp smell of alcohol, had faded several minutes ago.
"Going out for some fresh air… brilliant idea," Applejack muttered through her teeth as they walked.
Accompanying Fluttershy on her "fresh-air walk" was nothing more than an excuse to get away. She wasn't sure if Rarity had understood it that way or not, but either way, Applejack didn't feel comfortable around her. The atmosphere between them always grew too prickly when they worked together —and that was a thorn she didn't want stuck in her hoof right now.
Still, thinking about it more calmly now, she began to doubt whether it had really been a good idea to leave her in charge of the kitchen.
"Pinkie Pie can handle it… but Rarity…" she murmured to herself.
Applejack trusted Pinkie to prepare a decent meal, as she had done the past few days. But only Celestia knew what sort of "fabulous" culinary proposal her unicorn friend might come up with.
"As long as it's not a five-hoof buffet…" The mental image of a catwalk full of dishes of every color and size already paraded through her head as her steps slowed.
The ever-responsible Applejack's concerns were not unfounded. There was little food left in the pantry for her and her friends. Not so little that it would all run out by tomorrow, but without proper rationing, in a week —or less— there'd be nothing.
And in that situation (with no source of new supplies), leaving Rarity in charge of the kitchen could definitely turn into a serious mistake. As serious as dressing a pig in a silk gown and expecting it to stay clean.
"I have to go back…" she told herself, already resolved, turning halfway around.
Just then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted her.
[["Applejack? Is something wrong?"]]
"Yaaahhh!" the farm pony yelped, jumping into the air and spinning toward the source of that strange voice.
There stood the figure of a pony encased in a full-body latex suit of bright yellow. Its face, impossible to see behind a dark visor, was a black rectangle on the front of the airtight helmet that hid its head. The rest of its body was covered by a single piece of plastic, with a pair of oxygen tanks on its back that hummed steadily, accompanied by the hiss of a connected respirator.
[["Sorry… I didn't mean to scare you, Applejack…"]] continued the voice, its tone vibrating with a faint buzz, like a hornet's drone.
"Ahh, ahh, it's fine, it's fine…" Applejack replied, shaking herself off. She felt a bit foolish once she remembered who it was. "Everything's fine… Fluttershy."
Yes, it was Fluttershy. Though her voice was very different from the one everypony was used to. The protective suit distorted her tone, making it deeper —not in a natural way, like a playful vine's teasing, but rather in a synthetic, almost menacing way.
Menacing enough to make even a tough pony like Applejack's coat bristle.
"Ahh… by the way, Fluttershy, could you maybe take that helmet off already? I don't think it's helping much…" suggested the farm pony, less startled now but more wary, glancing around as if she feared an indignant Rarity might appear out of nowhere.
[["Actually, I think it is helping, Applejack…"]]
"Really!?" she answered, surprised.
[["Yes. At first it felt very suffocating, but I'm getting used to it now. Besides, my nasal congestion has improved a lot. I think wearing this suit to get some fresh air was exactly what I needed."]]
"If you say so…" Applejack replied, unconvinced. Not only because Fluttershy, being completely sealed inside that suit, wasn't breathing any "fresh air" at all, but also because, truth be told, there wasn't any kind of fresh air in that place.
None whatsoever. Not even a breeze.
It was then that Applejack turned her attention back to the world around her. For a moment, she stopped thinking about the kitchen and took in the landscape with fresh eyes.
No matter how many times she looked at it… she still didn't like it.
Beneath a dim yellow light that mimicked sunlight, the two friends found themselves in the middle of a painted road over a perfectly flat ground. On either side, rows of houses —colorful but fake— greeted them with glossy, plastic façades. Perhaps, if Applejack were standing far enough away, she could fool herself into thinking she was back in the town where she and her friends had shared so many memories.
But from this distance… it was impossible to ignore the truth.
They were inside a scale replica of Ponyville, built entirely out of plastic. A No-Ponyville, soulless and hollow, spreading not only through the residential buildings but also the agricultural outskirts that had once surrounded the town.
"Weird…" muttered Applejack, grimacing as she recognized, in the distance, artificial versions of her family's farm and the apple fields she had once tended with pride.
The whole scenery only deepened her confusion. How could something like this exist? Who had built it? And as if that bewildering model of her home wasn't already disturbing enough, beyond the familiar boundaries of the town there was…
Applejack swallowed hard, taking an involuntary step back, pushed by that same old feeling that had made her stumble so many times before.
"It's scary, isn't it?" Fluttershy suddenly asked.
This time, Applejack didn't flinch. Instead, she turned to her friend with a serious, somber expression.
Fluttershy no longer wore the helmet. Her mane flowed freely, but her face reflected the same unease Applejack felt.
"Yeah… I don't understand any of this. What is this place?"
"I'm not sure… Pinkie Pie said at breakfast it might be the toy world Discord always talked about, though… it feels a lot less fun than he described," replied the pegasus, remembering fondly the colorful —and chaotic— stories of their draconequus friend.
"Toy world? Uhh…" Applejack thought for a moment. It hadn't occurred to her before, but the idea made some sense. If Discord —the self-proclaimed Lord of Chaos— was involved, anything was possible. But accepting that opened new questions.
"So… if that's the case… why would Discord bring us here after what happened on the train? And where is he, to begin with?"
"I don't know, Applejack. That's just Pinkie's theory. I really don't think Discord's the one to blame for all this," Fluttershy replied firmly.
"Well, it sure looks like his kind of thing to me. Almost like he took over Equestria again while we were gone," Applejack snorted, kicking a loose plastic rock down the path. It rolled a few steps before veering toward Fluttershy.
From the corner of her eye, Applejack followed it. That's when she noticed the hardness forming in her friend's expression.
The look.
"Though… I might be wrong. It's not like we have to blame him for every strange thing that happens to us…" she added with a forced smile, trying to lighten the mood.
But Fluttershy's gaze grew even sterner.
"He's not to blame, Applejack. He's changed. He's our friend now," said the pegasus, her eyes fixed on her.
"Alright, alright. The change. Sorry, Fluttershy," Applejack replied quickly, surrendering. She felt the tension ease almost immediately.
"Ufff… okay. Discord's not to blame. But still, I would like to have him here. Friend or not… at least we'd have someone familiar to deal with," she murmured, turning her gaze toward the horizon.
"Well… I'd like that too," sighed Fluttershy, looking off in another direction.
Absorbed in the reality surrounding them, the two friends said nothing more. They resumed their trot, leaving behind their earlier worries, moving quietly through the empty streets of the false Ponyville.
A suffocating silence stretched around them. There was no wind. No echo of their steps. Only that inanimate world that seemed to swallow every sound in its bright, colorful emptiness.
Applejack led the way until they reached the edge of town, where the road gave way to a dense forest built of layered cardboard cutouts.
Beneath the shade of those peculiar trees, loneliness manifested in flat silhouettes of faded darkness, exhaling a gloom that cloaked everything around them.
Feeling the heaviness of the journey —and noticing darker thoughts beginning to creep into her unguarded mind— Applejack decided to restart the conversation.
"So… what do you think, Fluttershy? Got any theories about this place?" she asked without turning around, forcing a friendly tone.
[["It's a liminal world."]] Fluttershy's mechanical voice came from behind.
The pegasus had put her helmet back on.
Ahead of her, Applejack's coat bristled once again. Though she was getting used to it, that distorted voice still made her deeply uneasy.
"Liminal? Is that some kind of plastic?" asked Applejack, flicking her tail in an effort to relax.
[["It's more of an abstract adjective, related to the boundary between two spaces… It's a bit difficult to explain. Rarity nearly spent the whole night trying to make Pinkie Pie understand it."]]
"That happened?" Applejack raised a brow. She barely remembered the conversation with her friends before bed. At the time, she had been exhausted after their long afternoon of exploration. Because of that (and other things she preferred not to recall), all she retained were vague, blurry images of Rarity talking dramatically in front of everyone.
And… nothing else. She didn't have much to say on the matter.
"Well, we still have a long walk before we reach Rainbow Dash, so you can explain that 'liminal' stuff to me along the way," said the farm pony, adjusting an imaginary hat on her head and trying her best to keep a cheerful tone.
Both friends continued their trek through the silent cardboard forest.
[---]
From high atop an overlook, at the edge of a cliff, Applejack gazed out over the landscape, lost in thought.
"It's a… toy box?" Rainbow Dash had said shortly after her first flight over the area.
Standing there now, Applejack could confirm it. The land beneath her hooves stretched out in a perfect square, as if a piece of the world had been cut out with a ruler and set inside an elephant-sized box. The terrain extended without obstacle until it met four massive stone walls forming the inner edges of that colossal structure.
And above —far above— those walls ended abruptly against a stony, flat, flawless sky: an artificial ceiling. A ceiling that, like the walls, bore no cracks, no flaws, no hint of an exit. Only, at its center, an enormous electric light bathed everything below in an enigmatic lemon-colored glow.
Yes… it was a toy box. A very big toy box. What else could a simple pony like Applejack think? She kept pondering.
It could also be the room of a giant —with a world of toys carefully arranged on the floor. A cute world, yes, but one they couldn't escape from.
"No… if we could get in, then we can get out," she muttered, trying to convince herself. She had said the same thing before, but the phrase was starting to lose its strength. After several days of fruitless searching, darker thoughts had begun to creep into her mind.
"Twilight's not here… you're the one holding the reins now, Applejack… you can handle this, as long as there aren't any giants," she whispered to herself.
Lost in her worries, she let her eyes drift over the cardboard forest, following the path she and Fluttershy had taken toward…
"Huh?" she blurted suddenly, frowning. Something had caught her attention —a faint shape behind the curtain of her unkempt mane.
She rubbed her eyes, brushed her hair aside… but all she found were the same cardboard trees and the trail.
"The mane again…" she grumbled in irritation. She missed her hat terribly.
"Umm, Applejack… I could use a little help here," called a voice from behind her.
The farm pony turned at once. Fluttershy, who had lagged a bit behind, had tripped on the last step of the stairway leading up to the lookout. Somehow, she was now clinging to the railing, dangerously close to the cliff's edge.
"Up you go!" In one quick motion, Applejack grabbed the pegasus and pulled her to safety.
"Thanks, Applejack! I don't know what I would've done without your help," Fluttershy said in relief, wiping sweat from her forehead. She was no longer wearing her helmet.
"No problem, sugarcube!" replied Applejack, brushing her mane aside. "But I reckon your wings could've helped too… if they weren't stuck inside that suit."
"Oh… right…" Fluttershy looked down somewhat guiltily at the protective outfit she wore. Applejack didn't like that thing, but her pegasus friend seemed perfectly comfortable in it.
Not wanting to argue about it, Applejack turned toward the goal of their trip.
Nestled against one of the massive stone walls marking the limits of that artificial world stood a rustic wooden shack. It was a structure completely out of place amid the colorful surroundings of cardboard and plastic. As one of the few constructions not made of synthetic materials, the wooden shack stood out as weathered and unvarnished, as though it had been abandoned long ago right after being built.
On its sides, several signs indicated its function, along with a map of the area.
With nothing else remarkable nearby, the image of normalcy that the little shack projected remained unbroken.
In fact, it looked so familiar that Applejack, upon seeing it, immediately began considering spending the rest of the day there. Of course, only if Rainbow Dash allowed it —since the day before, the pegasus had claimed the place as her own.
"Alright… it's a little farther than I remembered, but we made it. Rainbow Dash had better be in a better mood today," Applejack said lightly, approaching the shack.
"I hope so…" Fluttershy murmured behind her.
It was well known among the group that Rainbow Dash wasn't having the best of times. The defeat against the Knights of Order still weighed heavily on all of them —especially on the loyal pegasus. Though Applejack had tried to cheer her up, Rainbow Dash had grown increasingly distant from her and the others.
So much so that, to Applejack's annoyance, she had decided the previous day to sleep away from the rest, who still stayed in the fake replica of Twilight's treehouse.
"Rainbow Dash!" Applejack called, knocking on the door of the shack. "We came to visit you —are you in there?"
No answer. After a few minutes of silence, it became clear that the pegasus wasn't home.
"Do you think she didn't hear us knocking?"
"I don't think so, Fluttershy… this wood isn't that thick," said Applejack, tapping the door with a hoof. The structure, made of joined planks, didn't look soundproof at all. In fact, where the doorknob should have been, there was a large hole through which they could peek inside.
With a gentle push, both ponies entered.
Inside, Rainbow Dash's room —the shack's only one— was surprisingly tidy: a small table, a chair, a bed, and a wardrobe painted on the wall… nothing more. The space was small and practical, showing no obvious signs of anything unusual.
Except for one detail: the complete absence of Rainbow Dash.
Applejack took only a few steps before stopping, raising an eyebrow. Something didn't add up.
"It feels so fresh and clean in here…" noted Fluttershy, sniffing the air. The crisp scent of wood contrasted with the plastic smell they had grown used to in the past few days.
"Yeah… too clean," Applejack replied uneasily, nudging an immaculate feather duster that lay on the table. She had expected to find some trace of Rainbow Dash's usual mess —like back at her cloud home in Ponyville.
While Fluttershy rearranged a bunch of plastic flowers in a vase beside the bed, Applejack realized the obvious.
"Wait a second… Fluttershy, is it just me or… are we the first ones to ever set hoof in here?" she asked, her eyes widening.
Fluttershy froze, startled. After a quick glance around, she noticed it too.
The room showed no signs of anyone living there —aside from the fresh prints of their own hooves. Even the thin layer of dust that remained on the furniture was being brushed away by the sweep of their tails.
Realizing this, they immediately began searching the shack.
The result confirmed what they feared.
"These pillows and sheets aren't the ones we gave Rainbow Dash last night. They're just… plaster," exclaimed Fluttershy, worried, beside the bed.
"There's nothing here she took this morning either —just more dusters!" added Applejack, frustrated, slamming a drawer shut. She clearly remembered how earlier that day her friend had left the kitchen with a thermos of hot water and a whole bag of oat waffles.
"What about the wardrobe?" asked Fluttershy, pointing to the drawing on the wall.
"Ughhhhhhh!" was all Applejack could answer, letting out a groan of mounting anger.
"Oops… sorry," murmured the timid pegasus, realizing how silly her comment sounded. "But… I don't get it. Rainbow Dash told us yesterday she'd checked this place and thought it was perfect for her," she recalled, referring to their exploration the day before.
To Applejack, who had also been there, the conclusion was obvious.
"She lied," she said sharply. "Rainbow Dash never checked this place —she didn't even step inside."
"But… why would she lie to us?"
"She wants to deal with things her own way," answered the farm pony. "The Rainbow way." She stomped her hoof against the wooden floor.
Applejack was angry. The previous night, after a fruitless day, she had tried once more to cheer her friend up —only to be told Rainbow Dash would no longer sleep with them.
After a not-so-friendly exchange and the pegasus's stubbornness, Applejack had agreed, just to save face. Now she regretted that decision.
"I told her this wasn't the time for games between us —not with things like they are…" she muttered to herself, pacing across the room.
"Umm… Applejack…"
"We're supposed to stay together if we're going to get out of here and find Twilight, right?"
"Applejack…"
"'You're being too motherly, Applejack,' 'I can take care of myself, Applejack,' 'You're no fun without your hat, Applejack!' Ughhh!" she snorted, stomping harder. In front of a wide-eyed Fluttershy —who was being more and more ignored— she vented all the frustration Rainbow Dash had built up in her over the past days.
"But no more. This pony knows when to round up her sheep. Rainbow's going to listen to me!"
"Applejack!" Fluttershy shouted, stopping her just before she stepped outside.
"What?!" she snapped, still annoyed.
"It smells like something..." the pegasus said calmly, tilting her head up toward the ceiling as she sniffed the air.
At first Applejack didn't notice anything. But little by little, as she flared her nostrils, she began to detect a pleasant scent in the room.
It was a sweet, familiar smell… nothing to do with the wooden walls.
Rather, it reminded her of the breakfast Rainbow Dash had taken with her that morning...
Seconds later both ponies had left the shack, leaving behind plastic flowers and a faint aroma of oat waffles drifting through the half-open door.
[---]
"Yeep! Rainbow Dash was definitely here," confirmed Applejack, giving a dry kick to an empty waffle bag on the floor.
Behind her, Fluttershy—who was still wearing her latex suit—nodded silently as she arranged a tangled pile of blankets over some cardboard boxes.
Rainbow Dash's improvised shelter on the roof of the shed held no surprises. Practical, elevated, and somewhat messy: the place reflected her pegasus friend's style perfectly.
"I feel kind of bad for not understanding Rainbow Dash yesterday, when she said that no one but her had permission to climb that high..." Fluttershy murmured, recalling the image of Rainbow Dash standing tall, proclaiming her warning from atop the shed the day before.
"I didn't get it either. I thought at the time she meant the lookout in general..." replied Applejack, as she scanned the surroundings and beyond. Looking carefully at the horizon again, she finally understood that this was the highest point in the entire toy world. Which explained why Rainbow Dash had chosen it in the first place.
"We'll have to apologize when she gets back."
"I guess so..." muttered the farm pony absentmindedly, scratching the back of her head.
Applejack moved cautiously across the small rooftop, trying not to disturb the chaotic mess her pegasus friend had left behind. Then, by stepping accidentally on a sheet of bubble wrap, she noticed an unusual object embedded in one of the corners.
As she got closer, she confirmed it was exactly what it looked like—a telescope.
Where had Rainbow gotten that from?
Curious, Applejack tried to move it, but quickly realized it was firmly tied to its mount. So, without further ado, she leaned forward and looked through the viewfinder to see where it was pointing.
The image that appeared before her eyes was none other than Twilight's treehouse—where all their friends were.
Rainbow Dash hadn't stopped looking after them for a single moment.
With that revelation, Applejack felt a knot forming in her throat.
"Um... Fluttershy."
"Yes?" her friend replied, turning around after finishing Rainbow Dash's bed.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, down there... I shouldn't've lost my temper like that."
"I understand. It's okay..."
"No, it's not okay, Fluttershy." Applejack lowered her voice, as if acknowledging the fragility of her own words. "I'm supposed to stay strong. Twilight's not here, and someone has to lead the others. But... I don't know if I'm doing it right."
"I think you're doing fine."
"Really?" Applejack let out a rough sigh. "We've been walking in circles for four days. And we haven't found anything except what Twilight and Badwhiz left behind. It's frustrating... I know the others feel it too. Rainbow's tired, Rarity's tired... and the food's running out. It's just a matter of time before—"
"Applejack." Fluttershy's voice interrupted softly, but with an unusual firmness. "We still have time."
The pegasus came closer and, without asking permission, nestled by her side. The gesture completely disarmed the honest pony, who sank to the floor as if she had finally let go of an invisible burden she'd been carrying since day one.
"I shouldn't be saying this, friend... but I don't know what's going to happen to us tomorrow." Applejack looked down; her voice barely a murmur. "If I manage to sleep at night, it's only from walking all day. Nothing bad's happened yet, but..."
"We still have time, Applejack," Fluttershy repeated, her gaze steady, filled with that rare serenity only she could hold.
Her friend opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. They exchanged glances, and after a heavy silence, Applejack sighed.
"You're right... I guess you are."
Surrounded by motionless air, the crushing silence of the toy world closed in on them even tighter. In that moment, they could almost believe they were the last two beings left in existence.
They stayed like that, side by side, until finally...
"I think tomorrow we should try something different," Applejack broke the silence. "Though I don't know what."
"We're in this together, Applejack. We can ask the girls and try something tomorrow... maybe... digging."
"Digging?"
"Yes. Pinkie mentioned it at breakfast. She was pretty insistent... don't you remember?"
Applejack shook her head. "No... I think I've been too distracted—well, anxious, really."
"You're not the only one."
"You too?"
"Yes... all of us." Fluttershy swallowed. "Last night, when Rarity was arguing with Pinkie... she started crying. Then Pinkie did too... and so did I. It was... a really intense moment."
Applejack looked at her, surprised. "I didn't know that... wait, you didn't tell me that a moment ago."
"You're not the only one afraid of how others might react if you share what you feel. For example, I think a lot about my friends in the forest... it's been so long since the last time I saw them..." Her voice faltered briefly, but that was enough; the weight in her eyes said it all.
Applejack understood instantly and lowered her head.
"Yeah..." she managed to whisper, almost voiceless.
She missed her home too.
Every morning, when she woke up, she used to imagine she was back on her farm, with her family, living the ordinary life she longed for: breathing fresh country air, tasting a good apple.
But she wasn't there.
She wasn't in her world.
She wasn't home.
Without another word, both friends embraced, as if trying to hold on to what little sense of safety they still had in that cold, comfortless world surrounding them.
"Bzzzzzzzzz..."
"Uhhh?" Almost startled, both friends pulled apart and looked around.
Silence. Stillness.
"Umm... did you hear something just now?" asked Applejack, uneasy.
"Yeees... it sounded like a... a bumblebee?" replied Fluttershy, twitching her ears.
Both sharpened their senses, but the strange buzzing that had interrupted them seemed unwilling to return.
Just as they began to think it might've been something else, the sound came again.
"Bzzzzzzzzz... Bzzzzzzzzz... Bzzzzzzzzz..." it droned in intervals.
"All right, now I hear it too... where's it coming from?" said Applejack, turning her head in several directions.
"From... there!" Fluttershy pointed toward the pile of boxes where Rainbow Dash had been sleeping.
Quickly, they took the pile apart until they found the right box. The buzzing stopped instantly.
Confused, they lifted the lid.
Inside, several bulky black communicators were stacked one atop another like large chunks of coal.
Applejack tilted her head, then picked one up under her friend's timid gaze.
"It's lighter than it looks."
"Is it turned on?" asked Fluttershy, pointing to the back of the device.
"It is... how strange." Applejack frowned, noticing that the battery compartment was empty. And yet, the communicator was working.
This was exactly the kind of thing she hadn't wanted to run into since they'd arrived in this world.
"Bzzzzzzzzz... Hello... hello?... is anyone there?... Bzzz..." a voice crackled through the static.
Applejack didn't need to turn around to notice Fluttershy retreating behind her. But all her attention was on that mysterious voice trying to reach out.
She didn't answer right away. Cautious, she examined the device again until she found the power switch.
She should turn it off.
With her hoof already pressing the button, she hesitated.
Turning it off was the safest choice: it would prevent any unknown threat from the other side of the line.
But... what if that voice was Twilight's?
After a brief moment of doubt, she sighed, resolved.
"Hello?" she replied, fiddling with the frequency and volume knobs.
"Bzzz... Hello? Oh, thank goodness, there's someone there! Fluttershy, is that you? I need help!" The voice grew clearer and clearer until it was perfectly audible.
Both ponies' eyes widened.
"Rainbow Dash!" they shouted in unison.
"Fluttershy? Wait... Applejack?! What the hay are you doing there?! Ugggh, this day can't get any worse..." The voice cut off for a second, then returned, softer. "I mean, ummm... how nice to hear you, Applejack! How are you?"
Applejack, who at first had felt relief at hearing her friend's voice, suddenly felt her good mood drop like a wagonload of spoiled hay on her back.
Yep, no doubt about it—on the other end was her dear 'friend' Rainbow Dash.
"I can only hear you, Rainbow Dash. And I'm fine. Are you okay?"
"Yes! Perfectly fine!" the pegasus replied instantly, in an even sweeter and more cheerful tone.
"That's good, friend."
"Yeah, real good, friend."
"Great." Applejack forced a smile. "Now, friend... would you mind tellin' me what in tarnation's going on?" she finished, almost shouting into the communicator, which crackled in her hooves.
In response, there was only silence. Fluttershy shrank even further into her corner.
After a few seconds without reply, Rainbow Dash's voice returned.
"Ughhh... Nothing's wrong, Applejack. I'm fine... really! But... I'd be even better if you girls were here too."
"Oh, yeah? And where exactly is 'here'?"
"That's... uh... north! Forty-five degrees east from the blue-ball tree..."
"Uh-huh... and where's there a blue-ball tree?"
"Aaaah, that's in... somewhere... Look, there's a map in my Daring Do box. You can use that to find me."
"Which box of—?" she asked impatiently, but stopped halfway. Fluttershy had already pulled out a large map from a box labeled "Daring Do" and unfolded it before them.
It was huge, surprisingly detailed. Applejack, amazed, realized it had been drawn entirely in pencil—with enough precision to reflect the places they'd explored over the past few days.
How on earth had Rainbow Dash found the time to make such a detailed map?
"Applejack? You still there?"
"Ah, yeah, sorry, Rainbow. Got the map now. Where'd you say you were again?"
"Northeast, blue-ball tree. Follow the pink slides, near the cardboard house."
Applejack, who was used to reading maps, tried to get her bearings. However, something confused her: the drawings were clear, but the labels weren't. Almost all the names were written in some half-indecipherable language.
"Here!" said Fluttershy, who hadn't been idle and could actually understand her speedy friend's sloppy handwriting.
Applejack leaned closer to the map and, following the shapes, found the spot Rainbow had described.
"Blue-ball tree... Got it, Rainbow! We're on our way. Should we bring the others too?"
"Ummm... no, no need. I've got everything under control. Really, I'm fine. But... if it's not too much trouble, bring my toolbox too. It's under the one marked 'Heavy Pranks.'"
"Rainbow..." Applejack muttered, irritated by her friend's careless tone.
"Uh bzzz bzzz... think the signal's breaking up... bzz... look for a blue cart when you arrive. I'll be waiting, girls. Bzzz bzz..."
The fake static swallowed her voice, and the communicator went dead.
Once again, silence claimed the shed rooftop.
"Is Rainbow Dash in trouble?" asked Fluttershy, breaking the stillness.
"Yeah," answered Applejack without hesitation. "She's got herself into somethin'. I just hope it ain't serious..."
She lifted a hoof to her head, as if adjusting the hat she wasn't wearing. Worry crept back into her thoughts. But then, something pulled her out of them.
A gentle hoof rested on her shoulder.
Turning around, she found Fluttershy looking at her with a serene smile, as if she somehow knew what was going through her mind.
Applejack gave a faint smile and went on speaking.
"Although... most likely it's just another one of her harebrained stunts. A... Rainbow Sonic Fart, maybe?" she said with mock seriousness, pressing her lips together to stifle a laugh.
Fluttershy, on the other hoof, couldn't hold it. She burst into a brief laugh—about as intense as a shy pony like her could manage.
[---]
Rainbow Dash turned off the communicator.
There wasn't a trace of joy on her face.
"So... a Rainbow Sonic Fart, huh? Since when are you the funny one, Applejack? You wanna have that talk with Pinkie, don't you? Because if you're gonna have it... it'll be after you help me with this..." she growled, her voice torn between bitterness and exhaustion, before hurling the communicator against the glass window in front of her.
The place remained dim—
a small, confined space resembling the inside of a space capsule.
Through the tinted glass, the outside world was barely visible. More capsules, identical to hers, stood like dead fruits amidst a twisted forest of cardboard trees.
Seated on a cushioned chair that failed to make her any more comfortable, Rainbow Dash clenched her jaw until her teeth almost ground together.
Cruggg...
The sound echoed metallically inside the capsule. She tensed immediately, face contorted, wings twitching in a vain attempt to release the pressure.
After a few moments of erratic movement, silence returned. Rainbow slumped back in her seat, resting her head against the headrest.
Eating all those oatmeal waffles that morning—along with that questionably sourced milk—had been a terrible idea.
Right then, Rainbow Dash's thoughts were a chaotic swirl: part scolding herself (where waffles took a prominent role), and part desperate mental effort to keep her digestive system under control.
Hold on... until your friends get here... you've gotta hold on...
"You're awesome, Rainbow... you can do this... hang in there, Rainbow!" she muttered to herself in a sweaty whisper, while something very unpretty tried to make its way out from within.
[---]
Not far away, deep within the forest of cardboard trees, the ground was cracking wider and wider.
Tearing through the fake grass, a vast fissure opened across the terrain; from its dark depths emerged two enormous limbs ending in claws, scraping the edges to widen the gap even more.
At the same time, a muffled whistling sound—like a hurricane trapped underground—rose from within the chasm, growing louder as it opened.
Without pausing its climb, and with its horns already breaching the surface, the immense silhouette of an unknown creature was about to fully emerge into the open.
Into that toy world where Twilight's friends had barely managed to find refuge.