Author’s Note: Due to obvious anonymity, I could not ask for permission. I‘m sorry.

“‘I’m sorry.’ The two most inadequate words in the English language.”

When the miners first found it, they didn’t know what it was. One hit with their pickaxe, and it resounded like metallic glass, echoing throughout the caves as if they were inside a concert hall. After the digging at it with their shovels, brushes, and plenty of hoofpower, the item was extracted.

The object in question was iridescent sphere as heavy and smooth as marble. And it gave off the distinct impression of a sort of condensed, crystallized fog. As they probed it, tapping it with their flimsy tools, scratching the surface to see if sediments fell off, the miners couldn’t catalog it. When they asked a geologist what it was, even his estimations were doubtful and the others offered solutions.

It was a giant pearl. Black opal. It came from space.

“Perhaps it’s a crystal ball,” one suggested. And the group laughed until the young stallion’s cheeks bled like rubies. Certainly, it looked like a crystal ball, but that was nonsense.

Wanting to know its worth, the miners took it to an appraiser. He explained that it wasn’t a giant pearl, nor was it black opal, but in his limited knowledge he recommended them to Canterlot University’s professor of archeology.

After a lengthy inspection, the archeologist gave no input and only suggested they take it to the Equestrian Astronomy Association for further questioning.

When the EAA got a hold of the item, they found that the stone had traces of iron and nickel, and was reminiscent of an extremely rare lunar meteorite, but they were uncertain as to why the stone glimmered as if it was constantly casting off magic. As if it were breathing, alive. They also found that if they peered carefully into the stone, it darkened, giving off an effervescent glow, and if one looked closely, for an infinitesimal moment, one could see planets, galaxies, stars, all compacted and together, celestial worlds held delicately atop the sole of your hoof.

The more they searched, the more the astronomers were unable to unearth the otherworldly answers and they sent a memorandum to the president of the EAA, Princess Luna.

Upon seeing the item, Luna immediately called for an emergency royal conference.



Twilight, along with Celestia and Cadence, sat at the mahogany meeting table, waiting for Princess Luna.

She fumbled with her hooves. What did Princess Luna find?

Her anxiety heightened as the towering doors resounded, and the three princesses looked up as Luna entered the room, the strange orb held inside a glass display.

Celestia arched her eyes. “Is that…”

“Yes, sister.” Luna nodded. “A legend lost to time.”

“A legend lost with time, I had hoped once.” Celestia levitated the glass case up to her eye level and through the other side of the glass, Twilight noticed her stern eyes.

“A crystal ball?” Cadence asked, confused.

Celestia made a sound of affirmation. “Yes and no. This was Star Swirl’s final invention. He called it his ‘All-Seeing Eye.’ It vanished during the siege of King Sombra and was proclaimed lost for centuries. Eventually, its existence dwindled to myth. And historians and scientists have continually debated its existence. Only we knew the truth.” Celestia’s eyes lowered, away from her sister. “For a time, I had thought it was with you, Luna, held in the moon.”

Luna shook her head. “It was not.”

“An all-seeing eye?” Twilight asked. “I’m not sure I understand. Tarot readers and magicians use crystal balls as a medium, as a sort of tether to connect conjectured ley lines. How is this different from a regular one?”

“Because Star Swirl found a way to connect all conjectured ley lines. If channeled correct, it truly is all-seeing. A very dangerous object.”

“So, it can accurately predict the future?” Cadence asked.

“Not only the future.” Luna’s horn glowed as she opened the case, and she gestured the other three forward. Twilight felt an indescribable amount of Luna’s magic fill the room and pour into the orb. Then the room shook. The surrounding air grew heavy with intense magical energy, and Twilight’s breath seized. The ball which had given off a pallid gaze, now filled itself with milky blackness, as if ink had spilled from the inside out. It formed blobs first, then shapes, then finally figures, and its hues synchronized to form a familiar scene.

It was the three of them, Celestia, Cadence, and herself waiting at the table minutes earlier. They began a conversation about the weather, taxes, and Shining Armor. In the crystal ball, Twilight relived the moment, watching their past occur once more. But as she relived it, it became different. Luna came in abruptly, interrupting their exchange, and starting the very same conversation about the crystal orb. Twilight knew that hadn’t actually taken place.

“Not only the future, but futures,” Luna repeated, her voice full of exhaustion. She placed the glass case over the crystal ball, and at once it faded back to white, the dark layers rippling away. “It can predict the pasts. The presents. The possibilities. By analyzing a single course of action a pony would be able to see all possibilities of the future.”

“And if someone should get their hands on it. They’d be able to forecast their perfect future,” Celestia added, helping Luna sit down.

“But it takes a near-exhaustive amount of magic to be able to see those possibilities. What we saw just now was a possible past.” Luna sipped some water.

Twilight let the weight of Luna’s words sink in. The pasts. The presents. The futures.

The possibilities…

All-seeing.

Twilight felt her face go ashen.

“But… how is that possible?” Twilight fell on her chair.

“Twilight.” Celestia placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“It’s not logically possible. One would need a ridiculous amount of magic—I don’t even think alicorn magic would be enough!—And think of the ley lines—ley tunnels, actually—telluric currents, cross-dimensional thaumaturgic patterns. Nopony, and for that matter, no object can accurately predict the future!” Twilight said, more panicked than in incredulity. She could already imagine the books, the spells needed for such an enormous task. How many years did Star Swirl work to create such a thing? How, where did he get such power to make it work?

“If there was ever a pony who knew the possibilities of the impossible, it was Star Swirl,” Luna said.

“But the magic…” Twilight stopped. As always, Star Swirl the Bearded, was an enigma. “He… He actually did that?”

“He did.”

“What shall we do with it then, auntie?” Cadence asked. With nervous movements, all three of them looked at her.

“We know what will happen if this gets into the wrong hooves,” Celestia said.

Twilight, for a brief moment, saw apprehension and uncertainty in her mentor’s eyes. She didn’t know what to think.

“Or claws,” Luna added. Celestia nodded. Twilight imagined Discord peering into the crystal ball, his claws greedily grasping it, his eyes hooked on a scene of power or glory. No. This absolutely couldn’t get into the wrongs hooves.

“But destroying it might prove as difficult as protecting it,” the older sister continued, “We must reconvene as soon as we know more about this. Luna and I will research through the Canterlot Archives. Cadence, since it was found in the mines of the Crystal Empire, perhaps a crystal pony will have information or can remember something.” Celestia’s cheekbones relaxed, and she gradually smiled. “Unfortunately my memory from one thousand years ago isn’t as cognizant as theirs. But if not, then the libraries should be sufficient.

“Twilight, I’m entrusting the Eye to you. Since you’ll most likely be doing research as well, I’d recommend checking the library in the old castle. I’m sure Star Swirl left plenty of notes lying around.”

“Research is something I can definitely do, princess!”

As Twilight took the crystal orb in her hooves, she felt a glow emanating from it. It felt cumbersome in her hooves. Celestia stopped her as the others started to leave.

“Twilight, you know this has great power. If used..."

“Princess… of course I wouldn't... I wouldn’t use it at all. I’d rather not see what the futures hold.”

Celestia nodded, saw her face relaxing. It was a strange sight.

Does she not trust me?

“Of course, I know you wouldn’t use it for personal gain, Twilight. I’m just… wary. The price of insight may prove just as detrimental as without it. Perhaps, even more so. But if the Eye were to be taken by the wrong creature, well, I fear for our futures. Against such a foe, we may all become powerless.” Again, Twilight saw her fear and apprehension.

She gave the princess a hug. “Don’t worry, princess. I won’t let you down.”

---

Twilight explained to the girls about the Eye and what had transpired. They agreed that research should be done, but because there was no imminent danger, Twilight declined their offers to help. For now, she and Spike decided to undertake the bulk of the research at the old castle, and they continued reading as the clocked ticked away. When a loud snort intoned to her left, she looked and saw Spike curled on the floor, snoring.

“I guess we can call it a night.” Twilight gently nudged Spike. His eyes cracked open.

“Oh, yeah. Sleep! I’m beat!” With a sudden burst of energy, Spike jumped up, and the two of them headed to a bedroom.

Settled in her covers, Twilight couldn’t help but stare at the small, moon-like object sitting on her bedside. It was such a minuscule, seemingly-ordinary object, but it could potentially cause the world’s destruction.

Discord. Queen Chrysalis. King Sombra. Tirek. Even Sunset Shimmer and Starlight Glimmer, though Twilight chided herself for those last thoughts. Starlight and Sunset were good ponies—good friends, now. They were reformed, and Discord was reformed too. But what if one of them had gotten a hold of this before the princesses? What if they accessed the possibilities inside?

There would be wars. It would be chaos.

But would it be better to destroy the Eye? Would it be better to use it?

If used, they’d be able to prevent wars. Prevent deaths. And the medical research! They could analyze different medicinal remedies just from studying the crystal ball’s possibilities. In that tiny thing was the power to change the world.

And as Twilight stared at it, it glowed incessantly, its foggy surface covered with silhouettes, with an indistinct face that made it seem like a mini mare-in-the-moon, watching her as she slept, watching her life as it was and knowing it could be so much better…




Twilight didn’t know exactly when she had fallen asleep, but she was awake now, her eyes snapping open as something crashed in the room next to her.

“Spike?” Twilight’s eyes darted to the dragon, but he was still snuggled in his basket, dreaming away. If that wasn’t Spike…

She looked up.

And her heart sank.

“Spike! Get up!” Twilight’s wings flared open as she zoomed into the library. Just as she suspected, a hooded pony was galloping down the hallway.

“Twilight!” Spike called.

“Here, Spike! Hurry!” Twilight shot a beam at the pony, but they dodged, jumping just as Twilight let it loose. She raced toward the pony, teleporting, and let another beam fly, but it hit a vase, shattering.

The pony ran across rooms, seemingly looking for something.

Not an exit, Twilight thought. The pony would’ve already known where the exit was. And nopony except the girls knew that Twilight was in the old Everfree castle.

Spike finally caught up to her as they entered the royal bathroom—or what had once been the royal bathroom. The pony stood at the base of a gigantic mirror. With a glow of a horn, the pony stepped through. Twilight sprinted as she never had before.

But the glow subsided.

There was an instantaneous crash. Twilight tried to stick a hoof through the mirror, but it hit the reflected surface.

Gone. Gone. The portal, the pony, the Eye was gone.

“The portal is gone,” Twilight said trying to center herself as her brain sped into overdrive. The most powerful invention in the universe was missing, gone because of foolish nonchalance. And now that pony had the world in their hooves. Where did the pony go? Who was the pony? Why did they take the Eye? And how did they know that Twilight had the Eye? Twilight took deep breaths, but she still felt dizzy.

“What do we do, Twilight? Should we call the others? Sunset Shimmer… She did the same thing once, right? Should we ask the Princesses?”

Spike was right. Sunset had done this once before. Was it possible it was her again? Or perhaps Starlight? But no. They were all friends now. They wouldn’t do something like this, would they? No, they couldn’t have.

“Spike!” Twilight yelled, not realizing Spike was standing right next to her. “Grab Sunset’s book—”

“Twilight! The mirror’s glowing again!” Twilight turned and indeed the mirror glowed, oozing white and emitting a strange ethereal glow.

The Eye.

She had to get it back.

That was all that mattered.

“Come on, Spike!” Just to double check, Twilight put a hoof through the mirror. It went through. “Ready?”

Spike grabbed her hoof. He swallowed, giving a jerky nod.

And Twilight jumped.

---

…And the void spit them into a gigantic library, into an amphitheater of books. Twilight, still dazed, was able to find her balance and landed onto the stony flooring. Spike however, fell on his bottom, narrowly avoiding knocking a desk full of lit candles, scrolls, and books.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked.

“Yeah.” Spike rubbed his behind. “Where are we?”

“Ye have finally arrived.”

Bells jingled.

And Twilight held her breath.

A stallion stepped forward, his ashen beard shimmering in the candlelight.

“Star Swirl the Bearded,” Twilight uttered. She gripped Spike’s shoulder, ignoring his hiss of pain.

“Thou are correct.” His eyes narrowed, and he cleared his throat. “I meant, you. You, are correct. Welcome to my scriptorium. Forgive my old ways, young Twilight Sparkle. It has been a long time since I’ve used the vernacular.”

“You know who she is?” Spike asked.

“You know who I am!” Twilight asked at the same time, seized for a moment by a fearful wonder.

“The stars, as well as time, has foretold of your appearance.”

“But… aren’t you, you know, supposed to be dead? No offense.”Spike kicked his foot up, shyly.

Star Swirl laughed, a great boom ringing from his diaphragm. “That, my young dracon, is another tale for another day. But now we must make haste. You have other pressing matters to attend to, do you not?” His hat jingled as he walked toward a bookshelf.

“The crystal ball,” Twilight said, remembering why she was here. “Your All-Seeing Eye.”

Like the winds progressing in an oncoming storm, his eyes swiftly darkened. “Yes. My final invention. Perhaps my most deadliest.”

“The pony who took it used a mirror portal. And that mirror portal took us here. Is that pony here? Did you see the—”

Star Swirl raised his hoof, and Twilight silenced herself. “I am aware of who took the crystal orb.”

“You know who took it? Well, tell us already so Twilight and I can go chase him down!”

“It is much more complicated than a simple game of run and chase, young dracon.”

“How? Is Equestria in trouble? Is the thief trying to do something bad with it?”

“The Eye was never meant to be found in your time. Come.” He raised hoof, motioning them to follow him, and as they walked they saw thousands of bookshelves, packed together, stacked together, one atop of another. No hallways. No corridors. Only bookshelves and ladders. Overhead, Twilight was unable to see a ceiling, and when she looked at the tomes on the shelves, she noticed that most of the tomes were untitled. Each bookshelf also hung two candles. The combination of paper and candles made Twilight nervous.

“What do you mean, it was never meant to be found?” Twilight asked, stopping. This section was messier than the area they had previously left, with papers strewn about riddling the floor like laminate. Besides that however Twilight was unable to note any other distinguishing features about the room. Besides the books, every room looked the same.

“You know how the Eye works. It sees all possibilities.” Star Swirl rummaged through his parchments.

“I had a question. If the Eye sees all possibilities, doesn’t it make almost useless? You can see all possibilities into infinity. It’s the same as knowing nothing, because nothing is definite.”

“I do not deny that for it is but an instrument. If a pony should choose to observe the possibilities of walking the roadsides to school but a second later, would it be optimal for that pony to do so? The key is if the pony can correctly channel their conjured scenario and take the proper proceedings toward it. But, as all crystal balls are, it is a mere image of a future. Even if one chooses and sees their favored past or future, it does not mean that their actions will move towards it.”

“But it might.” Twilight resisted the urge to stop and read.

“Yes.” Star Swirl stroked his beard.

“So whoever stole the Eye found a way to make a probable scenario a reality. Because the Eye was never supposed to be found in our timeline.”

“Correct,” Star Swirl said.

“But how?” Spike asked. He, like Twilight, was staring at different blueprints of various mechanized objects. Twilight saw equations she had never even seen before, never even fathomed.

“How indeed, but the answer is usually due to a sacrifice of the timeline. However, the how isn’t of import any longer. Now is the what.”

“What?”

“Indeed.”

Spike shot Twilight an incredulous look, and Twilight smiled back sheepishly.

“I think, Star Swirl, what we’re wondering is what do we do now? This pony turned a possibility into reality—using time travel, probably—and now has your invention. How can we get it back?”

“You must engage in the chase.”

“Bah, you just said that this isn’t just run and chase! Or tag or hide-and-seek or whatever!” Spike threw up his hands, frustrated. He tugged Twilight’s mane and whispered, “Twilight, the more we’re here, the more cryptic he’s getting!”

Star Swirl was giving them a peculiar look.

“This is probably where Celestia got it from,” Twilight whispered back.

“But what happens at the end of the chase? At that point, Twilight Sparkle, you must decide.” Star Swirl’s closed his eyes and raised his head to the skies, as if hearing something from above. Again, he stroked his beard.

Twilight had a million questions in her head about the Eye and why he made it, about even Star Swirl himself. Trivial things like what did he like to read when he was a colt, or what did he think of friendship, or how did he get his cutie mark. But she dismissed those fanfilly thoughts, trying to focus. “But how can we find the thief? They leapt through the mirror, and the portal closed.”

A small, wooden box levitated from the insides of a table drawer. Star Swirl opened it and Twilight saw a necklace with three mechanical cylinders held inside a mini globe. Lines protruded from various ends, and if Twilight looked close enough, she could see the constellations carved delicately in the metal bracing. The cylinders—spheres, Twilight saw now—twirled and twirled, until it stopped, locking its position with a slight click. On the spheres, numbers scrolled, never stopping.

“It’s—”

“A time compass…” Twilight breathed. “I never dreamed of seeing one before so pristine. It’s beautiful. They said you only made three in your lifetime.”

“Bah, I made many such things. Dimension compasses. Time compasses. But this, particular compass is a multiverse compass.”

“Multiverse compass? But… Wait, a compass. Why…”

“Twilight Sparkle, I tell you now and true. Your thief is lost. And so is my Eye. During their jump, the power of the Eye was too great and it pulled the pony elsewhere, causing a rift to open. This rift spans not only time and not only dimensions, but universes. Now they’re jumping through different universes, trying to get back to their home. This fissure will not close unless the Eye is back in itself rightful place. The Eye does not belong in their world, nor does it belong in yours.”

“Then where does it belong?” Spike asked.

Star Swirl said nothing.

“You want me to destroy it,” Twilight said in understanding.

Star Swirl took out a pipe from within his cloak, lit it with his horn, and let out a puff. “Celestia put her faith in you, and I must do the same. Come. We’ve run out of time.”

He levitated a parchment and handed it to her. Twilight saw that it was a thick and coarse, and its inking still wet.

“This is a spell that will create portals. As long as there is a body of water or a mirror, you will be able to jump universes.” Spike gulped behind him. “Over here is a spell that will directly lead you to the Eye. As long as the thief is in possession of it, it will lead you to them. The compass is simply to find your way home. I trust you know how to use a compass?”

Twilight felt as though she were taking a pop quiz. “I, um, read books on your compasses.”

“Very good, then.” He nodded. “Use the compasses and the other spells provided on the parchment to find your way home.”

The three of them walked back to the mirror room, and Star Swirl’s horn glowed. Once again, the mirror lit up.

“Twilight Sparkle, as you search for this pony, you may see things that you will never un-see. These ponies exist, just as you exist. They live as you do. But for some, they do not.”

“What do you mean?”

“History has an ominous yet distinct way of repeating itself, though you may not understand it entirely. In its entirety, it is different, and you must remember that. These ponies are different. What lies beneath these distant shores, behind these closed doors will be treacherous. And I fear it may be a long way before you find home. Do not lose hope.” He turned toward the mirror. “Your thief is currently in this universe. Tidings with you, young ones.”

“Wait,” Twilight said.

“I know the Eye was my responsibility and all, but if you knew about the thief, why didn’t you do anything to stop it? Why aren’t you out there, retrieving your invention?”

Star Swirl gazed into her eyes, and for a moment, she saw a semblance of melancholy in them. Then, he closed them and shook his head. “Time has consequences for all who trifle with it. Unfortunately, Twilight Sparkle, I must stay here. Your noble assistant will serve you better than I would have, I’m sure,” he said and Spike smirked.

“Thank you, Star Swirl. For everything,” Twilight hugged him.

“Yeah, thanks for the help!” Spike said.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Star Swirl grinned. “Off you go!”

Together, Twilight and Spike nodded and took a deep breath. With the necklace around her neck, the parchment tucked away in Spike’s bag, and with Star Swirl’s shadow looming behind them, they faced the mirror.

And jumped.

---

Twilight Sparkle fell out of a hung walled mirror and with an “oof!” Spike crashed on top of her, knocking both Twilight and an armored guard statue in the process.

“Sorry,” Spike said.

Around them, ponies, adorned with the fashion that Twilight usually saw during the Hearth’s Warming Eve play, were engaged in court. The two of them were undetected, in the corner of a hall of some sort, a throne room. And what a throne room it was. The corridors were enormous, wide, and empty, with towering ceilings that made her own crystal castle seem puny in comparison. And that door! It must have weighed seven-thousand-pounds, and was lavishly decorated with banners that held…

Not the two regal sisters.

But three tribes.

“Spike, I think we’re back in ti—”

The door boomed, flying from its hinges, causing everypony, Twilight, Spike, and the citizens of the country to shoot up. They turned towards the door. And Twilight’s jaw dropped.

“Is that…?”

“I am Imperatrix Celestia Invicta, Slayer of the Dragon Legions, Tamer of Tartarus,” a very Celestia-looking pony boomed as she stood under the frame of the entryway, a vicious warhammer poised at her back.

No.

“And alla you prancers better clear on out, because you’re raising the sun too rutting early, and I’ve decided I’m gonna take over and do it myself.”

“P-P-Princess Celestia?” Twilight yelled and immediately regretted her actions. Hundreds of eyes shot towards her: Celestia, the regal mare on the throne, and the small frenzy of guards, countryponies, and nobles gathered around her. The sentry, with flimsy sticks shaking in their hooves, finally noticed Twilight, but as they looked between her and Celestia, they seemed confused where to take arms. They looked toward their liege, but her eyes also kept shifting toward Twilight and Celestia.

“Princess?” Celestia said with a playful yet venomous tone, sauntering inside and cutting the silence with her heavy hooffalls. The guards, finally making a decision to block the alicorn warhammer warrior, bundled together, and in response she flashed a seductive, toothy smile. “Who are you calling a princess?”

Twilight shuddered. Now that definitely was not a sight that Twilight was used to seeing.

“Twilight. This is bad. We have to get out of here,” Spike blabbered.

Celestia, or “Imperatrix” as she called herself, swaggered toward the two of them. Twilight stood stationary, feeling as though she had been tarred to the floor.

“Twilight! Princess Warhammer is coming!” Spike yelled, his feet dancing as he tried to drag Twilight away. She didn’t know if it was because of the warhammer or the way that Celestia swayed so… unceremoniously or the fact that Celestia seemed so… un-Celestia-like. She did notice however that her knees were shaking.

“Hold!”

Another voiced boom, this time, from the stallion standing upon the throne’s dais. Everypony’s eyes now lay upon him.

“Let us not raise arms against our fellow ponies,” he paused and pointed at Twilight. “You there. Come into the light. Who are you? An ally of yours, Imperatrix?”

“An alicorn?” Imperatrix titled her head, frowning. “I don’t recall seeing you in the Alicorn Tribe. From where do you hail?”

“Twilight,” Spike whispered. “Let’s leave. They don’t like us, and we need to find the thief anyways!”

“I—uh, hail from… Equestria.”

“Equestria?” The mare on the throne said. “Is that in the Diamond Kingdom?

Twilight racked her brain, trying to remember old Equestria and its cartography. Diamond Kingdom. A banner of three tribes. Stylized warhammers. And the precise bulbous crown and the velvet cape the seated mare wore. Rarity, Twilight knew, was nothing but precise. And that went especially with period costumes. The mare had to be Princess Platinum and the stallion at her side was Clover the Clever!

Star Swirl, Princess Platinum, and Clover the Clever all in one day. Who would have thought?

“No, Princess Platinum,” she started, giving a hasty bow to the monarch. “With all due respect, I’m not from this time period.”

“A time traveler? Don’t tell me you’re one of Swirly Beard’s concubines,” Imperatrix laughed.

Twilight opted not to answer that. “I’m looking for somepony. Somepony who also doesn’t belong in this time.”

“And you believe this someone is in my court?” Princess Platinum gestured outward.

“Not in your court per say, but in your…” Timeline? “Lands.”

“I don’t care about your pony,” Imperatrix said, levitating her warhammer. “I’m here for the rutting sun.” She let the hammer fly west where it smashed the stone walls and fell, crashing upon heaps of armored statues.

There was a yell. When Twilight looked, she saw the hooded pony, crawling under the armor.

“There!” Twilight yelled and she and Spike took off. “Wait! Stop!”

“That’s the pony, huh?” Twilight heard Imperatrix say and saw the hammer levitate.

Oh dear Celestia, she’s going to drop it on him.

“Wait!” Twilight, with her magic, tried to push the hammer away. “Stop!”

“Imperatrix!” Clover, his voice agitated, replied, “Forget these ponies. Let your matter be settled with a contest of champions…”

With Imperatrix’s attention back on Clover, Twilight flung the warhammer aside, but just as they teleported, the pony ran towards the mirror Twilight had come through. Guardsponies chased him, but they slowed as he sped into the wall. The mirror lit up and with a fluid motion, the pony slipped through.

Twilight and Spike followed. She lit her horn, causing the scroll in Spike’s bag and the necklace on her neck to glow.

“I’m sorry!” she yelled as the guardsponies watched, confused.

And Twilight jumped.

---

…And landed in what looked like modern day Canterlot Castle.

This time, Spike landed on his feet. Immediately the two of them looked around, but the hooded pony wasn’t in sight.

Twilight sighed. “Did we just ruin that universe, Spike?”

“No. Of course not, Twilight,” he said, his pitch cracking. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. Right?”

Twilight dropped her head, and they walked. She was wrong; this wasn’t Canterlot Castle, but was still quite familiar: Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. They looked in each door and through each corridor.

“How would we know if he jumps again?”

Twilight levitated the parchment out of his bag. “I just check the spell. If the pony left this world, my compass will shift. But, for now the spell is saying he's still somewhere close.” Her horn, serving like a tracking beacon, suddenly flared. Twilight sensed the pony around. “Hm, really close…”

And then they saw him. The pony was limping, Twilight could see. Probably injured during his brush with warhammer death.

“Stop!”

They ran into another room, a large classroom set like a stage at the center, with rows of seats climbing upwards. Twilight at once recognized it as one of the testing rooms.

And she recognized the current filly testing too.

“Twilight?” Apple Bloom said.

“Twilight?” Spike called, but when she looked, it wasn’t the Spike at her side, but the Spike sitting in a row, next to another Twilight and Applejack. “And me!”

“Spike!” the Spike from her universe excitedly yelled back.

Applejack as well as three unicorn judges stood up in horror.

“What in tarnation’s going on here!” Applejack said. “Can’t ya’ll see my sister’s trying to take an important test!”

“Twilight what are you doing here?” The other Twilight asked, and Twilight’s eyes darted from her other self to the hooded pony.

“N-No time to explain! Sorry, everypony!” she said, galloping away.

Spike pointed both his forefingers at the other Spike, grinning. “Looking good, man!”

“Spike!”

“Coming!”

They dashed through classrooms, teleporting until the pony broke into the mare’s powder room. The mirror glowed. He hopped in.

Once again, Twilight and Spike followed.

They jumped.

---

…And nearly fell on a bed of nails. With her hands, Twilight grappled with the rope and pulled herself up.

Hands. She was a human again. Next to her, Spike barked.

Around, Twilight and Spike saw people dressed in all black and masked. They threw shuri-kens at one another. They sat on ta-tami mats and snoozed under ko-tatsus. Puffs of smoke went up and ponies disappeared.

Twilight peaked inside a classroom—she supposed that they had teleported to another school—and found nothing but black masked, katana-wielding ponies. If the pony was still in his brown hood, it would be a breeze to find him.

And then it hit her.

They were human. What did the pony thief even look like?

And then, she spotted her. Not the pony thief, but another Twilight. This Twilight was fuming.

“Celestia can get her own damn tiara back!” Before storming past her, Twilight looked Twilight in the eyes and gave an exasperated groan. “And how many damn Twilights are there in this world!”

Twilight didn’t want to find out, nor did she have time to. The compass shifted. The pony had left this universe.

Twilight and Spike left too.

---

Spike picked up a newspaper at his feet. Twilight’s picture was on the front page.

“Twilight Sparkle, dead at eighteen!” Spike let out a moan, his lips quivering. “Twilight, you’re dead in this universe!” His eyes filled with water and his nose started dripping. And before Twilight could even say anything, he started crying. “I-i-if yo-your dead. What’s go-g-onna ha-aappen t-to me?” Snot dribbled down his nose.

“Spike. Spike, oh. Don’t think about that. I’m here right now, aren’t I?” Twilight unfurled her wings and embraced him. Still somewhat shocked about her fate, she levitated the newspaper over her shoulder, reading it as Spike tried to calm down.

Then Twilight frowned.

“Spike,” she spoke in a deadpanned voice. “I’m not dead. This paper claims that every time I teleport, I kill myself.”

“Is that true?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Come on. Wipe your tears. The faster we find that pony, the faster we can get out of these strange worlds.”

The Ponyville here was the same as their own universe and they decided to eat. After all, it had been hours since they last had a meal. All this chasing was tiring.

“What if we keep going around and we never catch up to them? I don’t want to be stuck doing this forever, Twilight.” He munched his hayburger.

“We’ll find him sooner or later. Equestria depends on it,” and with a thought, “these universes depend on it.”

“That is, if you hadn’t ruined them first.”

Twilight threw a fry at him.

“Hey Twilight!” A voice called. Pinkie, Twilight saw, was talking to another Twilight.

“Quick! Under the table!”

“Why?”

“It’s Pinkie. And me. Again. I don’t want to make things worse here too. I hoped we’d be able to blend in like normal.”

“And lookie here! It is another Twilight!” Pinkie cheerfully yelled. From the proximity of her voice, Twilight knew that Pinkie was right over them.

“P-Pinkie, what a… pleasant surprise,” Twilight said, peeking up just as her other self dashed away.

“Hiya Twilight! I didn’t think it was actually you because I just saw you in the library at your you’re-not-really-dead party! And then I saw you in the market, and I could have sworn you were still in the library, but I said hi, again, and you said hi, but you looked really tired, and then I said ‘why don’t you take a nap?’ But then you said you had nowhere to take a nap, and that’s just silly because you could sleep in your castle. But then you said no and so I started thinking maybe that Twilight was different from the Twilight—”

“Pinkie...” Twilight started.

“—in the party. Because, you know, I noticed just now that that Twilight didn’t have wings. Not the party Twilight, but the other Twilight.”

Wings?

“Did you happen to resurrect one of your older selves? Or is it younger self? Or maybe you’re another resurrected Twilight because you’re acting different from the Twilight at the party too. And she didn’t have that pretty necklace that you’re wearing. I mean, I know you’re not dead yet… or actually, is it anymore?”

“Pinkie,” Twilight tried again.

“—But with you walking around everywhere and me seeing you everywhere I’m kinda sorta thinking that maybe you’re saying you’re not dead because you’re actually like a Frankenlight! Or a Twistein!”

“Pinkie!”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“That Twilight. She was a unicorn?”

“Yes.”

“And the Twilight at the party. She an alicorn?”

“Yessiree!”

Twilight’s head rang.

“Spike! It all makes sense now. It’s me. I’m the pony thief!”

Spike and Pinkie gasped.

“Why am I gasping?” Pinkie asked.

“Spike, we need to get that Twilight. That unicorn Twilight. Come on! Thanks Pinkie!” Twilight said and they ran towards the market, where Twilight had seen unicorn-Twilight headed.

The market bustled with ponies, but unicorn-Twilight was gone.

“But why you? Why did you steal the Eye?”

“I don’t know.” The mechanisms of Twilight’s compass shifted. “But she jumped. Come on.”

---

Much like the chase with Starlight Glimmer, Twilight jumped and jumped and jumped, always within reach of the other Twilight, but never catching her.

Twilight busted through the ancient temple, both Daring Do and Ahuizotl following behind her, but unicorn-Twilight dove into the flowing riverbed.

---

They jumped after crashing a date between Daring Do and Rainbow Dash’s father.

---

They jumped after Twilight narrowly escaping another of her selves and another Celestia—with two heads.

---

Twilight almost crashed into a flying, green, earth pony, but the pony kept her balance. She soared on over the apple orchard.

Again, she jumped.

---

Angrily, Twilight kicked another marionette as they danced around her and her unicorn self.

She screamed before her other self leapt through a looking glass.

“I!”

---

Twilight and Spike were lost in a sea of loving puppies, mutts licking and rolling over and barking, and they watched unicorn-Twilight, yet again, get away.

“Don’t!”

Chrysalis, stood nearby, expressionless. “Sic.”

---

Applejack and Golden Harvest moved out of the way as Twilight teleported right into the water trough. She was soaked.

“Understand!”

---

“Why!” Twilight yelled, after the other Twilight summoned a portal onto an iceberg, and dove inside. Rainbow Dash near her, watched in awe.

“Okay, that was kind of awesome.”

Twilight groaned.

---

They found themselves in a zeppelin, hundreds of feet above the ground, over the water. It was perfect. If unicorn-Twilight jumped, they would see her immediately.

“There!”

Unicorn-Twilight ran across the metal stairway.

“Twilight!” Twilight called out. “Twilight, why? Why do you have to Eye?”

Instead of answering, Unicorn-Twilight scurried inside a room—and promptly exited. Twilight and Spike gave chase again, but when the door opened, they crashed into two mares.

“Spike?” A familiar voice asked. “And Twilight?”

“What are you two doing here?” Scootaloo looked shocked.

“N-No time to explain! We have to grab that Twilig—Wait! Sweetie Belle? Scootaloo? You two are so… grown.” They stood as tall as Twilight, with Sweetie Belle inching slightly higher.

“Oh, stars! She looks just like Rarity!” Spike said, noticing Sweetie Belle for the first time. She wasn’t like the small filly in his universe, but a mare, much like Rarity’s current age. As Spike hovered toward them, Twilight saw both his eyes and his heart lit.

The older mares exchanged confused grins.

“Um, we’ve haven’t changed much, you know?” Scootaloo said. “But you two look like you did when we were fillies!”

Sweetie Belle laughed. “You really do.”

“T-That’s, um. Never mind! We need to catch that Twilight!”

Without asking questions, they hurried to the engine room. Above, Twilight saw the balloon overhead, recent patchwork had been done.

Unicorn Twilight dangled over the scaffolding, looking for something. Their eyes met.

“Twilight!”

Behind her, the two mares positioned a trap in case the unicorn tried to escape.

“You’re outnumbered!” Twilight said.

“Stop! You wouldn’t understand!” The unicorn let go of the scaffolding, and using the beam as leverage, pushed herself off the zepplin. Below was the crystal blue water. Her horn glowed.

“Oh no you don’t!” Twilight flew, Spike grabbing onto her neck as they nosedived. She teleported and was midair, next to the unicorn.

Twilight grabbed at her counterpart's bag. “Give it back!”

“No!” The unicorn teleported back the top of the ship and both of them crashed onto the ledge. There was a sickening crack as unicorn-Twilight’s saddlebag hit the ridges. She kicked Twilight, Twilight almost colliding into the propellers. Again, the unicorn grabbed her stuff and bound over the scaffolding.

“Twilight!” Spike yelled, pointing downward. The sea shimmered blue-green, but brightened, as if the sun was trapped in its liquid hold. Twilight, grabbing Spike, teleported once more.

And with her teeth, she grabbed unicorn-Twilight’s tail.

Twilight prepared for the sudden splash, her eyes squinting as she tried to pull herself and the unicorn upwards, but she was overpowered by sudden, overwhelming, encumbering spell, gravity pulling her down, down, down.

The splash never came.

---

Two Twilights and Spike fell and landed… on space.

“Where are we?”

They were at the edge of the stars. Above them shown galaxies and beyond. It was as familiar to Twilight as the last time she came here.

It was the place where she had ascended.

She was filled with memories of Celestia and her walking through the celestial world, seeing her life, her journeys past. She let out a deep sigh, an unspeakable sense of nostalgia consuming her—

Until she remembered why they were here.

“Twilight!” Twilight teleported on top of her and pinned the unicorn down.

Unicorn-Twilight countered with a laser. With nowhere to run, they fought. Lasers. Teleportation. No obstacles in their way.

Raw magic versus raw magic.

It was a fireworks spectacle. It went on for minutes.

“Stop! Stop it, both of you!” Spike yelled suddenly. His efforts caused unicorn-Twilight to slow down and look at him, and for a moment, Twilight saw her eyes filling with sadness. When she clearly looked, this Twilight indeed had no wings, but she also had scars on her face, and bags under her eyes, a face weary and worn.

“I can’t, Spike,” unicorn-Twilight said. As if in defeat, she sat on her haunches and lowered her head. “I…”

“Twilight. Why? Please, just answer. I know that we’re not the same. I know something’s happened to you. But, I don’t know why you need the Eye.”

“We’re not that different, you and I,” the unicorn started. She stood, gazing into Twilight’s eyes; her eyes held emptiness.

And nostalgia.

“Twilight, I’m your future. I’m from your universe, your timeline, but older. You are my precise past.”

“But…” Twilight stepped away, her hooves, shaking. “But you’re a unicorn.”

“I gave that up.”

“How? Is that even possible?”

“Spike.” Future-Twilight motioned for him. Spike, hesitant, looked at Twilight and she nodded. He walked over to her and future-Twilight embraced him. Twilight felt as awkward as Spike looked. “Spike,” her voice cracked, “was the very first casualty.”

And suddenly, Twilight didn’t feel so awkward anymore.

“Twilight, I needed to find a way to fix things. I tried to save them, all of them, but I couldn’t. The princesses. Our friends. I needed the Eye. It was the only way.”

“No… But there had to be some other solution. It’s just not…”

“I tried, Twilight. Everything.”

“What was it? A war against Equestria? Famine?”

“Dragons and the loss of magic,” she explained and Spike gulped. “But the Eye—”

“The Eye doesn’t belong to us. We need to return it.”

“But would you use it if you needed it the most? Twilight, you can’t lie. I already know what your answer is."

Twilight shook her head, refusing to look at her. “We don’t even know where it came from!”

I could help you there.

All three jumped. The voice sounded from every direction.

“Who’s there?” Spike asked.

Hello, Twilights and Spike. You may call me the Keeper. Others have also called me Atman.

“Who are you?”Twilight said.

Just as I said.

“But what do you keep?”

I am Keeper of this realm. This realm of… possibilities, if you will. This multiverse.

Future-Twilight levitated the Eye from her bag. They saw a giant crack on it. “Are we somehow in the Eye?”

Not quite. But the Eye and this realm are of the same ilk.

Twilight looked at the orb, illustrious macrocosms swirling within. “Did you help Star Swirl make this?”

No. But he has been here many times before. If he had discovered the secrets of this place, I’m sure making that crystal ball was fairly simple.

They said nothing.

“So you know the secrets of the universe? You know what will happen to her? To me?” Twilight asked Keeper.

I do. Your friend Rainbow Dash was just here. Once. But she didn’t want to be here anymore, so I took her back.

“Is it true, then? My fate is the same as hers.”

Keeper was silent.

“Tell her. If you’re really the keeper of this realm of possibilities, tell her the truth,” future-Twilight said.

I cannot answer that.

“Why?” unicorn-Twilight spat.

Because it can change.

“Then tell me how! Dear Celestia, please, tell me how! I would give anything to fix it.” She muffled a cry and wiped her eyes.

Twilight, And Twilight knew he was talking to her. You know how to change it.

Twilight looked at her broken future self. “How did you get the Eye?”

“I stole it from Star Swirl. It flung through his mirror and back into the past. I used a time spell to take me there.”

“You know we can’t keep this. We have to return it. This Eye. It’s all knowing, but it just shows possibilities, and it explains nothing. It can't solve anything. It's useless. And you know that.” Future-Twilight gave her a knowing frown.

"But maybe..." Twilight levitated the Eye towards her. Her horn glowed and she poured all her magic into the Eye. Images spread out before her. Herself. Her future.

Afterwards, Twilight set the ball on the floor. “This belongs to you, Keeper.”

There was a sound of affirmation. Then the Eye cracked, its essence flooding out and back to its rightful space. They watched the stars dance back into the skies, trails of stardust and meteorites and magic floating, specks waltzing and sailing away. And then the Eye too, was gone.

Spike didn’t say anything. Neither did her future self, though Twilight knew in her heart, it was for the best.

Do you have your answer then?

“I do,” Twilight said and again her horn glowed.

A ball of purple light engulfed her, wrapping her in a protective sphere, sending her upwards. Then everything broke apart, before coalescing once more into a tiny ball of light.

A ball of magic.

Her magic.

“Twilight, your wings!” Spike said, poking her sides. Her wings, as familiar as her horn, were gone.

“But why?” her future self asked, her voice trembling. “I can’t.”

“Do you remember why, Twilight, you gave up your magic in the first place?” she asked.

Twilight’s eyes darted, as if searching for some unknown memory. And as time passed in this timeless space, they watched the other Twilight search until her eyes became empty. “I… I don’t.”

Twilight said nothing more.

“Does this mean, we get to go home now?” Spike asked. And Twilight nuzzled him.

“I think so,” she said.

“Twilight, are you sure?” Her future self asked.

She nodded.

They said their final goodbyes.

And Twilight, her necklace now pointing toward home, jumped.



As they traveled through the void, Spike and Twilight fell.

“Twilight what will happen now? Are you still a princess?”

“I don’t know, Spike.”

“You’re not an alicorn anymore.”

“But I still have magic. I probably didn’t need that much, anyways.”

“What do you think will happen in the future?”

“I don’t know, Spike,” Twilight spoke honestly. “The truth is, she wasn’t from our timeline. But she thought she was. Perhaps there was just one, minute difference between us, something she overlooked.”

“Will she be okay?” Twilight knew he was probably thinking about the death in her world.

“I think she will,” she said, recalling images from the Eye. “And I hope we will be too.”

For a time, Twilight wondered where they were going and what would happen to them. Her life lay before her, open. The possibilities, she knew, were endless.