Rainbow Dash zips into the room, crossing it in a blink and pulling up before the large bookshelf sitting at the back wall. Bookshelves are where books are kept, and journals are books. So she's not only found her target, she's successfully reached it before anypony else. Grinning, she pumps her hoof in the air.

"Yes!"

The top shelf is filled with shiny plaques, engraved with things like "Faculty of the Year Award" and "Royal Society of Temporal Philosophists Lifetime Acheivement: Oaten Hays". There aren't any cups or brass statues of pegasi mid-flight like on her mantle back home, but there are at least as many. She lets out a low whistle.

"Musta been one heck of an egghead."

There are no books, however, so she moves down to the next shelf. The first few tomes are large and thick, and the spines have large words she can't pronounce let alone understand. The more she looks, the more she sees books like that, and the more she looks at them, the more they start to look the same.

"Hey Twilight?" she asks over her shoulder. "What's this journal supposed to look like again?"

Getting no immediate reply, she turns around. Twilight is sorting a large number of books into a bookcase on the left wall. Rainbow realizes that her shelf is in fact the only one in the room that had not fallen over. She takes this as a small victory.

"Oh," Twilight says, as if just now realizing she'd been addressed. "I'm not sure which journal's going to be the one we need, but look for books like this." She holds up a book smaller than those Rainbow has seen so far. The spine is open and she can see the pages past thin metal bands. "Look for a lot of blank pages at the end, like it's unfinished. That will most likely be what we're looking for."

"Small book. Blank pages at the end. Gotcha."

Rainbow scans the shelf one more time, seeing only books of the larger sort. She moves down one more shelf, and is greeted with what she's looking for. An entire shelf of what she's looking for. She grabs the first journal, opening it to the back, and is reminded of just why she never used to spend time reading books.

Sure, any novel starting with "Daring Do" promises to be full of action and excitement, and even when Daring takes a break to think over the temple's puzzle or psyche herself up before a big fight, Dash can be assured of more action to come. Sometimes, the pauses are just as tense and exciting as the action itself.

These books are not Daring Do. The first one is full of unreadable writing and worse-looking pictures. She sees something that looks like equations in there. If there's anything she doesn't want to be reminded of right now, it's school. The first journal goes back on the shelf and the second comes out. The last page is blank and her heart races, but she flips back one more page and sees only more of that awful chicken scratch. The third is no different. Nor is the fourth.

She begins chucking them over her shoulder, which makes the process go faster. Grab book. Flip open to last page. If last page is blank, check one or two more. Toss if there's too much writing. An entire shelf of dumb, useless journals ends up on the floor, only to float back over her head as she moves to the second to last shelf, upon which is a mixture of journals and not-journals. A noise behind her implies that Twilight is upset about something.

"Yeah, yeah, Twilight, cool it." She waves her hoof in the air. "I just wanna find that dumb journal and go save Princess Celestia and Spike. Is that too much to..."

Something tells Rainbow to look at Twilight. She's been nagging her while standing in a pile of books. There, near the top of the pile, she sees the cover of the perfect journal sticking out. She executes a perfect Flashwing Nose-stall Ninety and scoops it up.

The last page is blank. As is the one before it. And the one before that.

She flips backward through it, then forward from the start. Barely a quarter of the journal has been written in. With a sharp intake of breath, she holds it aloft.

"Hey Twilight, I think

---

Rarity strides into the room and is immediately struck by the wood paneling. While decades out of style, the grains are perfectly laid out, the walls flush and the scalloping smooth. It is, if she is not mistaken, red pine from the forests of Hollow Shades, a very sturdy wood that shines a rich chocolate brown when properly treated and waxed.

"My, isn't it just cozy in here?"

On closer examination, it's obvious this paneling is well past its prime, the wax less shiny and the wood showing through in spots, but she nevertheless appreciates good artisanship. When coupled with the plush burgundy carpeting, it gives the room a warmth not found in the tapestry-covered marble rooms elsewhere. Finding such a well-apportioned interior design in the personal office of one of the top faculty of the School for Gifted Unicorns should really come as no surprise.

"Ugh, but there is no excuse for those drapes. Polka dots? Puh-lease."

She tears her gaze away from the single window to her left and takes stock of the damage. Four bookshelves, placed against the side walls, are in various less than upright states, their contents cascaded into misshapen piles in before them. No doubt Twilight will have a fit. Oddly, the largest case, the one against the back wall, seems untouched. It sits behind a low mahogany desk and was where Rainbow Dash placed herself the moment the doors opened.

As Rarity moves toward the desk, Twilight rights a fallen bookshelf and begins sorting books back onto it. Rarity takes note of the pedestal in the center of the room, and how it somehow avoided being felled by the plush armchairs surmounting it. Above it hovers a pyramid about the size of her hoof. She lingers on it, the colors shimmering over its surface, the way it rotates ever so slightly.

"Thanks so much for helping me with this, girls," Twilight says to the room at large. Rarity shakes herself. The pyramid is not why they're here.

"Think nothing of it, Twilight," she says. "We'd hardly leave you in the lurch during a difficult time."

What better place to store a journal than desk? The coffee-brown wood calls to her as she nears it. Like the wall paneling, the finish is worn in spots, but she imagines that in its heyday, it would have reflected her like a mirror. Well, a brown mirror, anyway. She steps around it, pulling out a chair and wrinkling her nose slightly at the rump-shaped imprint on the velour cushion.

The desktop holds a blotter, a toppled vase filled with quills, and a picture frame. She rights the vase and lifts the picture to inspect it. A few dozen ponies she doesn't recognize pose before a grand marble edifice, with Princess Celestia at their fore. Rarity's nose wrinkles.

"I will never understand academic ponies and their fascination with tweed."

She hears Twilight giggle softly and casts her a smile. She tries the first drawer: locked. She frowns a moment, then moves to the next. It's filled with scrolls like daffodils tied with ribbon. She unrolls the top one, a correspondence from Sine Wave, Dean of the something or other department. Trivialities and academic jargon intermingle on the page.

Four pink hooves clomp into the blotter, then spring away. Rarity drops the scroll, sputtering. "Pinkie, please! You'll ruin the finish!" Pinkie likely does not hear her.

She retrieves the scroll, and Twilight draws her attention.

"Look for books like this." Twilight holds one up where Rainbow Dash can see it.

Rarity takes note of the hard cover and loose binding. Well, scrolls certainly will not be of any use, then. She checks to make certain nothing is beneath them, rerolls the one she removed, replaces the ribbon, sets it back on top of the pile and gently closes the drawer.

The next drawer is filled with parchment. Just pale white parchment, blank and neatly stacked. She doesn't know much about tempo-whatever shockwaves, but no doubt the solid wood helped shield the desk contents from the worst of the accident. Lucky, then, for below the parchment drawer are three inkwells, one of them open. Behind them is a metal flask that she leaves alone, and another picture frame, that she removes.

A filly – no, a young mare – wearing a black robe and mortar grins at the camera. In her magic is held aloft a tied scroll. Behind her is an older mare, orange-coated, grey mixing at the temples with her red and pink mane. Her eyes are wet, but she's smiling just as wide. Next to her is a white stallion, well-built for a unicorn, trying unsuccessfully to make a rude gesture behind the younger mare. The older mare holds him back with a surreptitious hoof. Lastly, on his left, is a more familiar brown stallion, his mane fully grey.

It's strange to see his body filled out, not sunken and lifeless. Though slouching, he looks like he might jump out of the frame at any moment. Past his glasses, she can see eyes that sparkle with pride. He is the only one in the image not smiling, yet somehow she knows this day means more to him than any of the others.

Something hard hits her in the back of the head. She whirls, dropping the frame to the soft carpeting.

"Rainbow Dash, honestly!" She rubs the back of her head, dodging another tossed book. "Have you no courtesy for others?"

"Rainbow, stop!" Twilight shouts, grabbing the flung volume in her magic. "This is important research you're throwing around! Have some respect!"

"Yeah, yeah, Twilight, cool it."

From the other side of the room, Rarity can just barely hear Fluttershy murmur something. She scoops up the picture frame, placing it gently into the back of the drawer. The image of cleaning out her great-grandmother's things after she passed suddenly strikes her, and she lingers at closing the drawer. There were so many old newspapers and magazines, the cast-off bits of glass and metal, the moth-eaten fabrics, the sewing machine. So many distant relations had swarmed that house, stripping it of everything worth saving. She'd come away with such a terrible distaste for certain individuals.

The question about to form in her mind is beaten down instantly. Her greedy relatives hadn't been trying to save ponies' lives.

Applejack, still lingering by the door, shouts something that she only catches half of. The vase falls over again as she lifts her

---

Fluttershy hangs back as Rainbow Dash and Twilight enter the room. Her gaze darts to the corners of the room, the walls, the pictures, the floor. She sees the dozens upon dozens of books littering the floor and feels her wings tighten against her sides.

"My, isn't it just cozy in here?"

Rarity is right, it is actually quite warm and snug in here. Really it's just like a small cave. Fluttershy smiles and nods, releasing her breath, but Rarity has already moved past the door and misses it. Pinkie Pie bounces by and Fluttershy recoils, moving toward the wall.

She bumps against a small end table and squeaks. The vase atop it lies on its side, the flowers limp and wan. There is a discolored spot on the lovely red carpeting below it. She rights the vase, wings drooping, trying to will the flowers back to vibrancy. Then she looks at the bookshelf behind her, on its side, and smiles, relaxing.

"Um, Applejack?" She turns to the door. "Would you mind helping me with this bookcase, please?"

Applejack blinks and looks at her, answering after a moment. "Oh, uh, yeah, sure, sugarcube." She picks her way through the books, showing a level of caution normally reserved for Fluttershy herself, and grabs the other side.

"See if'n ya can't lift it, Fluttershy. Should be pretty light."

Fluttershy places both hooves into the top opening and pushes. Her wings extend, trying to lift her from the ground. She pushes with her rear legs. The bookcase shifts slightly. There is a sound nearby like a sigh, and then the bookcase springs up underneath her. She has to flap to remain upright.

"Yay, we did it!" Fluttershy claps her hooves together. Applejack smiles at her.

"We sure did."

And then she's gone, inspecting the door frame for unknown reasons.

The small burst of joy Fluttershy felt fades and she turns awkwardly back to the bookcase. Beside her on the wall is a painting gone askew. In detail staggering for its small size, it depicts Canterlot Mountain at sunset. All the towers of the palace are there, with pinpricks of black for windows. It's possible the very building they're in is part of the tableau, but she's not familiar enough with it to know for certain. She rights the painting and expels a tiny sneeze. Something near the floor responds with a squeak.

A dormouse, bushy and black-eyed, has emerged from a small hole in the wood. Crumbs and fibers line the crack where the carpeting ends.

"Oh, you're very welcome," she says, lowering herself so she doesn't have to shout.

The mouse squeaks at her again.

"Three whole days? Oh my goodness, you must be starving. You poor thing!"

The mouse begins to clean its whiskers.

"Are you sure?" She chews on her lower lip. "Well, I didn't think to bring anything with me. I thought about it, but Twilight said..."

The mouse keeps cleaning its whiskers.

"The explosion must have been very frightening. I promise you, it won't happen again. None of your family were hurt, right?"

The mouse blinks twice.

"Oh, thank goodness. So long as you're sure you're all right..."

Nodding, the mouse flicks its tail and turns to head back into the hole.

"Wait!"

Fluttershy's hooves fly to her mouth. "Sorry. It's just, well, my friends and I are looking for a book. A journal, actually. The pony who used to live here would have spent a lot of time writing in it. I don't suppose you might know where it is or what it looks like."

The mouse squeaks. Across the room, Twilight and Rarity begin yelling at Rainbow. Fluttershy lets her mane shift in front of her face. Something tells her to look at them anyway, and she sees a green cover near the top of a pile of books.

"Really? It isn't green, is it?"

The mouse gives an excited squeak, and Fluttershy smiles.

"Oh, Rainbow Dash!" she calls. But Rainbow Dash seems to have figured it out already. Rarity looks at

---

Applejack pauses in the doorway. The Professor wasn't even in this room when the accident happened, let alone when he passed, but there is something about entering a dead pony's domain that gives her pause.

Thankfully or no, Rainbow Dash is there to break down any barriers. That one never fails to think only about herself. And then Twilight follows her, and Rarity and Pinkie and Fluttershy. The threshold is broken, but still Applejack remains behind.

The room is stuffy, oppressive, dank. No light comes in through the window. Nopony who's been in this room has ever been in a field, let alone worked in one. She closes her eyes. It smells of ink and paper with a light touch of mildew: a thinking pony's smell. Societal considerations balked her, but she knows from the scent alone, that she has no business being here.

Fluttershy quietly calls for her help. She takes a minute to tiptoe through a pile of fallen books, as though they might snap up and try to drag her down.

The bookshelf is maple, four-tiered, and probably weighs no more than a half-full wagon. She takes the bottom end and it quickly becomes obvious that she's underestimated Fluttershy's ability to generate torque. All she can do is watch her friend strain with all six limbs, unable to lift even an inch. With a sigh, she wraps one hoof around the side, above the second shelf, and hauls back. The bookcase rights itself, dragging poor Fluttershy along with it.

She skedaddles while Fluttershy celebrates, picking her way back through the books. The door frame provides a nice, cool place to rest her forehead.

She inhales. She's a doing pony, not a thinking pony. A thinking pony wouldn't have made that kind of mistake. A thinking pony would walk through this doorway and know exactly where everything was. He'd come back after a long day of teaching to sit and do paperwork, or whatever it was teachers did, and maybe have a little coffee or cider or something harder to unwind. Maybe a student like Twilight would come in with him, to sit and talk about academic stuff or ask for help on a paper.

Not that Twilight would ever need that kind of help.

He'd use this room for researching, or reading, or talking to his colleagues. It would be a sanctum, a home away from home, a tiny kingdom. He wouldn't expect five ponies he'd never met but at his deathbed to be going through his personal things. Would this happen once Granny had...

Well, a thinking pony would be out searching through those piles of books, looking for the right one. Applejack has no idea what the right one looks like.

Something makes her open her eyes and glance to the center of the room. There's some kind of magical triangle doohickey floating above a pillar between two armchairs. Pinkie is hovering nearby, giggling and preparing to poke it with her hoof.

"Uh, Pinkie," Applejack says, raising her voice as she strides forward, "I don't think maybe you should

---

Pinkie Pie bounces into the room, hot on Rainbow Dash's heels. She's never been in the office of a professor from Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns before. She's never even been in a regular professor's office, on account of having been home-schooled on the rock farm. It's nothing like she imagined, except she really didn't have any idea of what it would be like, and so it's everything she ever dreamed and more.

There's a ziggy-zaggy path around the room, if she pronks high enough to avoid the books napping on the floor, that is. She times her jumps so that they provide maximum height in ratio to acceleration and lets inertia carry her around the place so she can plan a party.

Every new room needs a party.

The ceiling is big enough to hold about six hundred and seventy-five balloons, give or take a few, and depending on the ambient air pressure and how much helium she can get in Canterlot on short notice. Balloon preparation requires that she only take the ceiling into account, as the last time she filled a room entirely with balloons, there wasn't any space left for partying.

The next order of business is streamers, but there really isn't anywhere good for hanging streamers. Banners, maybe, but for streamers, the space is too open, and all the bookcases have fallen over, except for the big one Rainbow Dash is hogging. The desk is too low to be an effective streamer hanging place, but it is nice and clumpy under her hooves.

"Pinkie Pie, please!"

"Hi Rarity, bye Rarity!"

Twilight says something about books. Isn't Twilight always saying something about books? Whoever heard of a book party? Maybe Pinkie should consider throwing a book party sometime; it could get Twilight more excited about coming to parties than she usually is. Then Twilight would understand things like needing a cake in the center of the room instead of a floaty, shiny, swirly triangle thing. There's definitely no room to put a cake there. She could put it on the desk, but then she would risk jumping into it, and that would ruin the party, because you can start a party by jumping out of a cake, but never by jumping into one. That was another lesson she had to learn by doing. Besides, the desk is where the punch bowl goes.

She stops on a big puffy comfy chair and stares at the triangle thing, which is all swirly and mystical. Yes, it is definitely mystical; she hadn't realized that at first, but now it's clear as day. She draws back a hoof, like a snake rearing to strike, and then she strikes, which means poking it really lightly because she doesn't know what it is. She expects it to ring like a bell, or maybe just make a boring old "thunk" sound because it looks like it's made of metal, but instead it makes a sound like "womp". This is both unexpected and exciting, enough so that she remembers Twilight talking about books and the reason why they're here.

She hops into the nearest pile of books and pulls one out.

"Hey Twilight, is this it?"

Twilight turns and frowns. "No, Pinkie. I just said you should look for books like this." She holds one up. Pinkie nods frantically and hops into another pile.

"How about this one?"

"No, Pinkie."

"This one?"

"No."

"Ooh, or maybe this one! It's got stars on the cover, and I know you like stars!"

Twilight makes the noise that means "please stop talking right now before I burst into flames".

"Pinkie, just pile any suspects in the middle of the room, okay?"

"Okie dokie loki!"

Why hadn't she just said that in the first place? It would have made this whole "search for the special secret unknown journal" quest a lot easier. She bundles a few dozen books into her hooves and toddles back toward the triangle thing. Luckily, there's a nice plush chair overturned next to it where she can set all the books she found. Knowing how Twilight can get about books, she doesn't want to risk hurting any of them, the way Rainbow Dash is doing right now.

Being this close to the triangle thing reminds her of the sound it makes. It's a really fascinating, original sort of the sound. She's only ever heard it in one place before, and nowhere else. It's the kind of sound she could hear again and again, and it's not even music. She lifts her hoof and rears back.

Applejack says something. She hears her name in there somewhere. But she's just so focused on listening to the noise that the triangle is going to make once she brings her hoof forward and

---

Twilight opens the doors and takes a step into the room.

"All right, girls, here's the plan. We..."

She opens her eyes. Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Pinkie Pie have already wandered off. She places a hoof against her forehead, just under her horn, takes a deep breath, and joins them. There are two bookshelves on the right wall that have fallen, and approximately one hundred and seventy books on the floor in front of them.

The last time she was in this office, Professor Hays had been hale and in good spirits. They'd discussed her trip to the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing of the Royal Canterlot Library. He had been most intrigued by her report that the temporal trip was, in fact, entirely determinative. She regrets that she hasn't kept in touch with him more since she left for Ponyville, but like most things involving her life in Canterlot, the Professor and his temporal studies classes faded into the background in favor of friends, parties, and adventures to save the world. There are two more bookshelves on the left wall that have fallen, with approximately as many books on the floor, plus another two dozen from the top shelves of a third bookcase that remains upright.

The first order of business in finding the Professor's last journal, the one he had been talking about while showing her the temporal displacement field spell, is cleaning up this mess. She rights a bookcase with magic and starts sorting books into it. This one appears to contain mostly literature. She's never known the Professor to be a stallion of literature, but honestly, she isn't surprised. Even if the collection is just for show, he's got all the classics, with quite a lot of modern things to boot. This won't do, she'll have to sort them out by date. The bookshelf at the back of the room remains upright and fully intact, with approximately two hundred books and fifteen award placards that Rainbow Dash is looking through.

No, no, she can't stand here sorting and cataloguing things, not when there are ponies in trouble. All things considered, their situations aren't going to get any worse the more time they take here, they just won't get any better either. And meanwhile, Equestria will be without one of its princesses, and she'll be without her assistant and her brother, and Cadence is going to be worried sick once she learns what happened. No, it's better to expedite the timeframe and find that journal. All the books go back onto the bookshelf as one, and she bites back the cringing, strangled scream at how disorganized they're going to be. She gives herself the luxury of at least making sure they're all upright and facing spine-out. And arranged by height. The armchairs in the middle of the room have been knocked on their sides, consistent with the direction of the temporal shockwave from the adjoining laboratory where the accident occurred.

Rarity makes a funny comment about academic ponies and tweed and Twilight laughs. The Professor always had been "traditional" when it came to his tastes. No doubt a little of that rubbed off on Twilight, given Rarity's general disdain for her choice in dresses. Rarity is currently going through the Professor's desk, and while Twilight doubts there are any journals there, she has to acknowledge that she hadn't actually considered that angle in her initial plan. Rarity is far more intelligent than she tends to let on. The drapes she commented on earlier are hanging two inches to the right of where they should be.

Rainbow Dash asks for clarification as to what the journal looks like, and Twilight realizes she has no idea which it would specifically be. She rights the second bookshelf which, unlike the first, actually has some of the Professor's older journals in front of it. One of those ought to do for an example, as he was rather fond of a particular type of journal for note keeping. This is unfortunately not the journal they're looking for, but then that would have been too easy. The vase on the desk that Rarity put back into position contains eight quills, all but one of which is a goose feather. The eighth is from an eider duck.

Pinkie asks whether a book is the journal. And asks again. And asks again. Twilight views her mind as a firework, the fuse burning furiously. Pinkie gets the hint and is appeased with a brief plan. The vase flowers by the door was knocked over not by the shockwave but by the force of one of the bookshelves falling, which is why it was facing away from the door. The spot on the carpet beneath it is not water, which would have evaporated over the last three days, but the remnants of chemical plant food.

Twilight turns to survey the other side of the room and realizes just what a big task this really is. Theoretically, they could be flipping through books all day trying to find the right one. Fluttershy and Applejack have gotten another bookshelf upright and Fluttershy is... talking to the wall. Great. The strips of paneling in the wall alternate: one hoof wide and two-thirds of a hoof wide.

At the sound of books hitting the ground, Rarity shouts.

"Rainbow, stop!" Twilight grabs a journal with her magic just in time to keep it from hitting the ground. "This is important research you're throwing around! Have some respect!"

Rainbow mutters something, and Twilight moves to the other side of the room, if only to prevent any more destruction of materials.

"Honestly, Rainbow Dash, I can't even begin to imagine just important all of this work is! You can't treat it like it's a..."

Rainbow isn't listening. Twilight frowns. The work of Equestria's foremost temporal theorist shouldn't be thrown about like so many rotten apples. If anything, it should be gathered up once they're done and given to his family. What was his son's name again? Twilight's gut roils. Too many emotional swings in a short period of time.

In the center of the room is a permanent levitator holding an object she hasn't gotten a chance to look at. She will definitely check it out once they find the journal. Pinkie is also interested in it, no doubt because it's shiny. The levitator has moved half a hoof west of the room's mystical locus, and is upright only by virtue of its inherent magics.

A thought of "It wasn't supposed to be like this" sticks in her mind. He'd just wanted to show off his new spell, a feeling she understood all too well. He wanted her to be the one to see it in action because he knew she had direct experience with time travel, and she was Celestia's student and an alicorn or whatever. He didn't know there would be residual temporal harmonics latent in her vicinity. She didn't know either; she could have known if she'd thought about it. She could have stopped this. She wouldn't have had to watch an old teacher, a friend, collapse from shock and perish three days later in a hospital bed, miles from his last surviving relative.

Her eyes fly open; she hadn't realized they were shut. Fluttershy is about to call out ineffectively to Rainbow Dash, who will find the journal sitting atop the pile of books that Twilight has been ignoring for the last fifteen seconds. Applejack will yell to Pinkie Pie. Pinkie will heedlessly touch the artifact hovering in the center of the room. Twilight will hear her own voice shouting Look at the levitator!

Twilight looks. She lashes out with her magic and snatches the artifact out of its levitation field. Pinkie Pie facefaults onto the levitator, knocking it over as its field sputters out. She sits on the ground, rubbing her jaw.

Time, stretched taut like a rubber band, relaxes.

"Owwieee!"

"Hey Twilight, I think I found the j– whoa, what just happened?"

"Pinkie, I don't think maybe you should tou– sweet sassafras!"

"My goodness! Pinkie Pie, are you all right?"

Rarity moves out from behind the desk, and Applejack and Fluttershy meet her by Pinkie. Rainbow Dash hovers, a confused look on her face. Twilight inspects the tetrahedron, mystic threads scintillating beneath its surface, and nods.

"I should have known. It's a fourth-dimensional chronolocking cylindroid. The temporal shockwave that... that killed Professor Hays destabilized it, so every time Pinkie poked it, it reset local time." She looks to Pinkie. "We've been stuck in a time loop ourselves! Every iteration had small differences, and over the last half dozen, I was able to implant suggestions that would echo through into future loops, so we'd know to stop Pinkie from messing with it!"

Pinkie moans as Rarity wipes at her tears with her tail and Fluttershy fusses over the bruise forming on her jaw. "I just wanted to hear it make that sound a forty-eighth time! I'm sorry, Twilight."

"Wait." Applejack stands straight, as though facing down a manticore. "What does that even... That don't look like no cylinder to me!"

"That doesn't matter." Twilight swoops in and gives Pinkie a hug. "Pinkie, you just saved everypony in Canterlot!"

"I did?"

"Yes!" She holds up the chronolock. Excitement grows in her voice. "We came in here looking for Professor Hays's last bits of research on the spell that started this whole ordeal. But I was so wrapped up in what happened to him, and in looking for the journal, that I didn't even think to look at this first. It's what we need to break the roving time loops!"

"What?" Rainbow Dash's arms drop to her sides. "You mean all that searching for this dumb journal was a waste?"

"Not at all, Rainbow," Twilight quickly replies. "In fact, bring that with you, we may need it yet. As for the rest of you, help Pinkie and then finish cleaning up. See if you can gather all the journals together." She gazes at the door. "I know somepony who'll want to see them."

Twilight and Rainbow move past the others, but she pauses. "And Pinkie?"

"Yeah, Twilight?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to."

Pinkie waves her hoof. "Naw, it's okay. I'll just have to eat lots of ice cream so the boo-boos go away!"

Fluttershy looks at her askance. "Pinkie, I don't think..."

"I'll send Spike to help once he's freed!"

And Twilight Sparkle leaves the room for the first time.