Mad Science: Chapter 3

Mad Science

By IceMan

 

Chapter 3

 

>Once again, you awaken in the world of technicolor ponies on the floor of Twilight's basement.

>Except now, you are doing more than waiting.

>It is time to begin working once again.

>The main ingredient in fireworks is gunpowder, a substance that you know how to make and have made on occasion.

>However, the ratio of the ingredients, charcoal, sulfur, and potassium nitrate, must be perfect for the reaction to occur.

>Charcoal you can either produce by burning wood in a low oxygen environment or purchase.

>Sulfur can probably be purchased from a gardening shop, where it will probably be sold as fertilizer.

>The potassium nitrate may be a little messy to acquire, but if collecting bat guano is what is necessary to be successful in Equestria, then that is a small price to pay.

>Plus, you have your radiation suit.

>You will also need wooden rods to guide the fireworks rockets and paper to make the rocket bodies.

>You untie the small cloth sack of money from your belt loop.

>About 30 of the gold coins remain.

>It is enough to acquire what you need to start making fireworks.

>You now have two goals for today.

>You walk through town, catching a few odd looks.

>Paying them no heed, and you pause outside a flower shop.

>A burlap bag of yellow powder under a sign marked "Fertilizer" catches your eye.

>You walk through the glass door into the shop.

"Excuse me, miss. How much is the bag of sulfur outside?" you inquire.

>The cream colored, red maned shopkeeper looks up from flipping through the pages of a book on a glass display table.

>"I don't know. I was conned for it. Some minotaur salesmen pawned it off to me a couple days ago as special fertilizer for flowers that doesn't smell. Except it does, like rotten eggs! Do you know what it is?”

"It's sulfur powder. It is fertilizer. It provides certain sulfur compounds for plants, which they use for growth."

>"Well, at least he wasn't lying then. What do you need it for?"

" A chemistry project."

>"Hm . . . 14 bits, and it's yours."

>You fish out the coins from your pouch and set them on the table.  

"Well, thank you. Do you mind if I come back and pick it up later?"

>"Of course not. I'm just glad somepony even wants to buy it."

>Beginning to walk out, you stop for a second and ask:

"Would you happen to know of any caves or abandoned buildings, someplace where bats might live?"

>"I think there's a cave in a hill by the forest. In the southeastern part of town, by the lake."

"Thank you. That's all I need to know."

>You step back out into the street and continue on your way, heading to the southwest and a small stone building belching sparks and soot into the sky.

>You find the blacksmith dropping a long metal bar into a pool of water, letting off a violent hiss and a cloud of steam.

"Hello," you greet, and the pony looks up.

>"Oh. It's you," he replies. "What do you want now?"

"I would like to apologize for my actions a few days ago. It was rude of me, especially when I was asking for help."

>"Yeah, sure. No problem, kid."

"And, the fact of the matter is, I need your aid again."

>You pull out the diagram of the transporter and unfurl it on a nearby table.

"Can you make parts like these?"

>The blacksmith clops over and stares at the page for a moment.

>"What is this thing?" he asks suddenly.

"It's a dimensional transporter. I need to build one to get home."

>"There's no way that I can make parts this precisely. You're looking at machine-made parts here. I mostly make ceremonial weapons and armor; I can't work metal parts to be so finely tuned."

"Okay, then. Is there somewhere I can get parts made this way?" you inquire.

>The blacksmith turns away for a moment and rubs his hoof through his mane.

>"I've got a brother that lives in Fillydelphia. He runs an ironworks outside the city. If you'd be willing to give me this, I could send the schematic to him and see what he can do," the blacksmith explains

"Excellent. How long and how much will it be?"

>"I have no idea what you'd have to pay him, but expect about a week to get the letter there and a week for his response."

"Very well, then. I will probably be able to pay him immediately then."

>"Good! By the way, kid. What are you, and what's your name?"

"My name is Anonymous. I am a human, a being from another universe."

>"Hm. The name's Silver Hammer. Nice to meet you."

>You trek home, picking up the bag of sulfur powder on your way.

>A quick sniff reveals the pungent odor of sulfur oxides, proving that the pale yellow particles are indeed the element you seek.

>Once you arrive outside Twilight's tree, you begin to prepare the second of the three ingredients by grabbing a bundle of fallen sticks and dry leaves and heaving them onto a clear patch of earth, away from any low hanging branches or anything else that might catch fire.

>You search a few closets for a shovel, but find none.

>You do find a bucket, which you fill with water from the stream behind Twilight's house.

>You are forced to tediously cover the pile with dirt by hand.

>Unable to find matches or a lighter, you are forced to start the fire with friction only, though it proceeds rather quickly.

>Soon you have slow burning carbon pile, perfect for producing charcoal.

>Twilight runs around from the front.

>Anonymous! What the hay are you doing? Do you want to set the whole town on fire?" she yells.

"Obviously not. I need charcoal for my fireworks. I need it to make gunpowder. I have a bucket of water in case something goes wrong, and the fire is away from any flammable objects."

>"You could have just bought charcoal if you needed it so badly," Twilight berates.

"Or, I save myself the cost of purchasing materials and make the charcoal myself. Simple economics, really. Vertical integration."

>"Ugh . . . fine. Just tell me when you are going to do stuff like this, okay?"

"Very well," you relent. "Though I will warn you that this fire has to burn for a few days."

>Twilight's previous anger returns with a vengeance, her cheeks glowing bright crimson.

"I'll watch it to make sure nothing happens."

>After watching the slowly rising embers for a few moments, you hear hooves crunching through the dry ground.

"Hello, Miss Rarity," you greet the white mare in front of you. "I assume you're here to drop off my clothes, correct?"

>"Yes! They came out absolutely lovely, if I do say so myself," she exclaims, unfurling a black shirt from her bag with a flourish.

"Do you mind if I go try these on?" you ask.

>"Of course not! I’ll just be upstairs talking with Twilight if you need me."

>The two of you head inside Twilight’s library, with you going downstairs while Rarity stays on the main floor.

>The clothes fit nicely, even if the fabric is a bit starchy.

>Clambering back upstairs, you hear Rarity saying, “He doesn’t even have a bed down there? Twilight, how thoughtless of you!”

>“He didn’t want one. He said he didn’t need one and was fine just sleeping in a sleeping bag.”

>“Twilight, you and I both know that that is no way to treat a guest.”

>Rarity turns her head and notices you.

>“Oh, there you are Anonymous. Twilight and I were just talking about you. I guess you heard that.”

>You nod.

>“Well, I think there is a simple solution to this problem. Anonymous, we’re getting you a nice bed and a desk down there. Twilight told me how you wanted a place to work and stay here, so we might as well turn it into a nicer place for you to –”

“No. This is completely unnecessary,” you reply. “I am perfectly fine without those things. There are plenty of tables to work on in Twilight’s laboratory, and I am fine sleeping on the floor. There is no reason to even bother with such trifles.”

>“No debating, Anonymous,” Rarity states. “I’m getting you a bed. Generosity is my Element.”

“And self-sufficiency is mine,” you mutter.

>Every day at school, at least a dozen people came up to you asking for your help.

>You always gave them the same response: "No. Learn the material yourself. Be independent."

>You occasionally broke this rule for colleagues who you trusted, students who truly wished to learn as you did.

>But, for most, you gave the same response.

>No pity was to be given to those who did not take the time to learn or pay attention.

"When you are working," you told them. "I will not be there to solve your mathematical conundrums for you."

>People called you a jerk, people gave you flak for refusing to aid them, but you steadfastly knew that they would be better for it.

>You prided yourself on your autonomy.

>A deep history of being lugged around to do errands from a young age has also caused you to resent going shopping for furniture, clothes, and groceries, unless it was of your own choice.

>Being forced to confront both of these devils left a grimace on your face and dread in your gut.

"Rarity, if I needed new furniture so badly, I would have gone out and gotten it myself. I have very important work to do at this moment!" you protest.

>"And I am sure that you can return to it later," she retorts.

>You sigh and accept your fate as she pulls you out of the house with her magic.

“Have fun you two!” Twilight shouts out to you, giggling a bit.

>You shoot her a deadpan glare.

>Rarity schleps you to several different furniture stores, and you accept her stylistic choices without complaint.

>As she cycles through two different shades of fabric for the bed spread, you simply mutter, “Can we leave soon, please? I really need to – ”

>“Well, you could help by saying if you prefer blue with white stripes or plaid,” Rarity scolds.

“It doesn’t matter! Pick one!” you shout, throwing your hands into the air.

>Rarity turns from examining the swatches and looks at you like you had just told her she was an unsightly, overweight pig with no fashion sense.

>“Design. Always. Matters. Never forget that, Anonymous. That being said, blue with white stripes definitely seems better, don’t you agree?”

>You grunt an affirmative response.

>As you step out into the street, three fillies run by.

>Rarity shouts out, "Sweetie Belle! Can you help us with this furniture?"

>The diminutive white unicorn, almost a miniature version of Rarity with a slightly more curly, lavender and pink mane suddenly skids to a halt, her red cape flapping.

>"But we were about to go down to the lake to go look for frogs!" Sweetie Belle whines.

>"And you can do that once you help us! It won't take that long, and maybe you'll earn your Cutie Marks doing it."

>The three girls immediately perk up at the mention of Cutie Marks.

>"What're you and what's your name, mister?" the yellow one with the red mane asks in a strangely familiar Southern drawl.

"I am Anonymous. I am a human."

>"Oh! So you're the critter that Applejack's been talkin' about for the last few days," she replies.

>"My name is Applebloom. I'm AJ's sister."

>"And I'm Scootaloo!" the orange pegasus with the straight purple mane adds.

>"And I'm Sweetie Belle!" the white unicorn finishes.

>"And together we are the Cutie Mark Crusaders!" they cheer.

"And what exactly is a Cutie Mark?" you inquire, getting down on one knee.

>"It's a sign of our special talent," Scootaloo explains. "What we're supposed to do with our lives!"

>You raise an eyebrow at this, but accept this explanation.

>It's not possible that one's life purpose can be expressed in a single moment.

>Right?

>Two heavy-set stallions lug the bed, desk, lamp, sheets, and bedspread Rarity had picked out for you onto a cart.

>"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS FURNITURE DELIVERY!" they shout in unison.

>The three fillies are soon hauling the cart by themselves.

>Rarity trots along by your side.

>"Sweetie, could you maybe use some help moving the items inside?" Rarity inquires as you arrive back at Twilight’s tree.

>"Yes," she sputters, slipping out from the cart’s yoke and then collapsing on the ground for a second.

>The other Cutie Mark Crusaders follow suit, lying on the ground like dogs in the heat of a Phoenix summer.

“Actually, never mind girls,” Rarity says, returning from inside the tree. “Twilight will – ”

“NO!” Applebloom shouts, jumping up from the dirt like she had been electrocuted. “We’ll never get our furniture moving Cutie Marks unless we do it ourselves! Right, girls?”

>The other girls nod, still panting a bit, and lift the bed off the cart and through the doorway.

>“Girls, please!” Twilight consoles, coming out of the tree. “I can lift this very easil – ”

>Applebloom shoots her a venomous look.

“I wouldn’t interfere,” you warn.

>After about an hour of lugging the furniture down to the basement, the Cutie Mark Crusaders return outside, finding you observing your charcoal pyre.

>They stare up at you with their large white eyes.

>"Will you help us find our Cutie Marks?" Sweetie Belle asks.

>You chuckle a bit.

"I'm a physicist, not a philosopher, but I can tell you that searching for your life purpose is a futile task. It will come to you. Do what you find naturally."

>"That's what everyone tells us," she replies, walking back out the door with a dejected look on her face.

>You walk into the kitchen and rip off a hunk of bread from a loaf sitting on the table and grab a wedge of cheese.

>Your appetite satiated, you march downstairs and grab your radiation suit.

>You only need the boots and the body suit, not the helmet.

>Twilight catches you before you leave.

>“My friends and I were planning to go for a late-afternoon picnic, and I was wondering, do you want to come?” she asks.

“No. I need to acquire some bat guano for the gunpowder.”

>Then a realization hits you.

“Do you have a shovel?” you inquire.

>“Yeah, I think it’s down in the basement.”

>She points to a small closet that you hadn't noticed before. . .  with a shovel inside it.

>You were certain you checked that one this morning.

>It's rare that you genuinely feel stupid from your actions.  

>You should've checked the house more thoroughly.

>You grab another bucket from the same closet you found the first one in, and set off.

“You could at least say goodbye,” Twilight scoffs before you leave.

“I’ll be back soon,” you respond.

 

>You are Twilight Sparkle, having a picnic with your friends.

>You lay out a large red and white checkered cloth on the ground and place the wicker picnic basket, filled with apples, a few bottles of soda, and daisy sandwiches, on top.

>“I hope everyone has been having an absolutely marvelous week,” Rarity says, lying out on the tarp. “I know I have. Just made a sale to some big wigs in Fillydelphia; they absolutely love my designs and are looking for someone to model them . . . How about you, Fluttershy? Are you willing to get back into the business? As partners this time.”

>“It might be nice . . .” Fluttershy mumbles. “But, no. I remember what happened last time like it was yesterday. I don’t ever want to be in fashion again . . .”

>“How about you then, Rainbow Dash? You’d look great in some of my outfits.”

“Sorry, but I don’t do . . . fancy. You know that, Rarity,” Rainbow Dash states, opening a bottle of orange soda with her teeth and taking a big gulp.

“What have you been up to lately, Rainbow? I haven’t seen you on weather patrol lately.”

>“There hasn’t been much to do. It’s summer. All we need is sunshine, and we haven’t seen any rogue clouds coming in lately. I got the week off. It’s perfect. Plenty of time to work on my speed.”

>Rainbow leaps into the air and performs an aerial loop de loop, leaving behind her signature multicolor streak before lightly touching down on the grass.

>“C’mon, Rainbow. Don’t be such a show-off all the time,” Applejack berates with smirk. “You don’t have to remind us that you’re the fastest flyer in all of Equestria every single day.”

>Rainbow chuckles.

>“So, Twi. How has that Anonymous fellow been treatin’ ya?” Applejack inquires.

“He’s not much of a burden. He mostly keeps to himself. He was gone for most of the morning with Rarity. She wanted to get him a bed.”

>“Well that’s awful generous of ya, Rarity,” Applejack remarks.

>“It was nothing. It was just the right thing to do. Poor thing sleeping on the floor every night. It would be un-ladylike not to offer it to him.”

“Well, he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor. He seems to get really annoyed when people do him favors. He thinks it puts them in debt to them.”

>“Yeah, you saw how he reacted to me just giving him a bagel!” Pinkie Pie adds. “I mean, if I were to offer somepony a bagel, they wouldn’t think twice about it. ‘In debt to me’ for a bagel? He’s crazy.”

“He is a little strange, but he’s from a completely different universe. Maybe favors are treated – no, he told me our society operated eerily similar to human society. Hm."

>You pause and telekinetically lift a sandwich out from the basket.

“I wonder why he cares about being in debt so much? He’s very secretive. He won’t tell me anything about himself, just generalities about humanity.”

>“Did you ask him if he wanted to come to our picnic?” Pinkie asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you reply. “He said no. He wanted to go collect bat guano for gunpowder.”

>“As I said. Crazy. And this is coming from me. I know crazy,” Pinkie says. “He needs to lighten up.”

>Rainbow taps her hoof against her head.

>“I think I have an idea,” she announces. “I’m taking Anon out drinking tonight.”

“What?! But you don’t know how he’ll react to alcohol!”

>“Can’t be worse than anypony else,” Rainbow debates. “Besides, it’ll get him to open up. We may learn a little more about him.”

“You’re right,” you relent. “He did mention humans have been brewing alcoholic beverages for millennia, since the dawn of civilization. The ancient Egyptians were the first. And with his larger body mass, he might be more tolerant to our spirits . . . hm . . .”

>“Don’t bring science into this, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash says. “Science ruins everything. Hey, AJ, you wanna help me out?”

>“I dunno, Dash. You sure this is a good idea?”

>“What could possibly go wrong? And I know that the bar has some of your freshest cider on tap. We’ve gotta go. Tonight.”

>“You guys are crazy,” Pinkie Pie remarks with a grin before chugging down a gulp of soda.

 

>You are Anonymous, climbing a low grass-covered hill, with various animal burrows dug into the side.

>As you round the other side, a small cave yawns open, a few droplets of water falling from the mouth.

>A vile stench tickles your nostrils; this cave definitely contains what you seek.

>Upon entrance into the blackness, your boots squelch against a mat of wet bat dung.

>You begin shoveling the matter into the bucket, filling it completely in a few moments.

>You step back out into the sunlight and walk home, all three parts of the gunpowder mixture now obtained.

>Oddly, Twilight still isn’t back from her picnic.

>You fill the bucket of guano with water and set it out to stew.

>The potassium nitrate will dissolve into the water, which can then be evaporated away, leaving behind the saltpeter.

>This could take a few days, leaving you with some time for thinking.

>That is, unless you are distracted again.

>There is a loud thumping on the door.

>You stand up and walk over to the entryway to pry the door open.

>A certain rainbow-maned blue pegasus and an orange-bodied blonde earth pony stand in front of you.

"What do you want?" you ask. “And where’s Twilight? Shouldn’t she be home by now?”

>“Wow, that's not exactly a nice response," Rainbow Dash replies. “Twilight’s still out. She said she wanted to stop by the bookstore and the parchment shop to get supplies, I think.”

"I'm sorry, but I've already been distracted enough today. Two hours of furniture shopping really can wear out a man."

>"Well, we're not takin' you shopping," Applejack responds.

>"You've seemed a little on edge since you've got here. You need to relax, unwind a bit," Rainbow explains.

"What are you talking about?"

>"Anonymous, we want to take you to a nice bar back in town and have a few drinks."

>They are just like the rest.

>Sycophants.

>Morons.

>Fools.

>You need to get out of this universe as soon as possible.

"I'll have to apologize, but humans cannot ingest alcohol. It's terribly toxic," you state.

>"Yeah, I don't buy that. Twilight told us you humans have been brewing ‘since the dawn of civilization.’ She said something about the ancient Egyptians being the first to do so."

"You're not getting me drunk."

>"C'mon, Anonymous! It'll be fun!" she pleads.

"And fun is not something that I particularly enjoy! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important things to work on," you retort and shut the door, only for it to be flung open again.

>Rainbow jumps through and grabs your legs, forcing you to the floor.

>You manage to reflexively stop yourself with your hands before your face slams into the wood.

"Get off me! What the hell are you doing?"

>"You're going to have fun and you will like it!"

>You try to wiggle away, but you are unable to free yourself.

>As you reach the door, you claw at the doorframe, but your grip is soon broken.

>You are bit surprised that a creature this small was able to pull you so easily.

>Not wanting to be dragged along the ground to wherever Rainbow is heading, you decide to yield.

"Alright! I will go barhopping, or whatever you want, with you. Just let me go!"

>"And you're not going to run back inside once I let go of you?"

"No. I do not want a repeat performance of what just occurred."

>"Good. Because I wasn't planning on dragging you all the way back to town anyways."

>She releases your legs, allowing you to stand up.

>You trudge towards town and a pub with a hanging wooden sign emblazoned with the name "The Laughing Unicorn."

>"Hello, girls. What'll it be tonight?" the bartender, a gruff male earth pony with a green coat and a black mane, asks.

>"Three ciders to start," Rainbow answers, taking a seat at the bar. "Drinks are on me tonight, Anonymous. It’s the Apple family recipe. Best in all of Equestria."

>You aren't in the mood to argue.

>The bartender pushes you a foaming stein of hard apple cider, and you take a quaff from it.

>You never liked drinking; it's an activity of the feeble-minded and desperate.

>It also tends to lead you to say things you probably shouldn’t.

>"So, what's your story, creature?" he asks you.

"I am a human. My name is Anonymous."

>"Don't bug him right now. He's not exactly happy to be here," Rainbow states.

>"Hmph."

>"Are ya havin' fun yet, Anonymous?" Applejack asks.

"Not particularly."

>"Another round, bartender!"

>An absolutely wonderful idea wormed its way into your head after the next round.

"I'd like a shot of your strongest stuff," you tell the bartender. "I'll pay for it."

>"Stalliongrad vodka, coming right up. That'll be two bits."

>You place the money on the table and grab a handful of napkins.

>Applejack and Rainbow Dash watch you curiously.

"Could I also get a glass of water?" you ask as the shot glass is set in front of you.

>"Sure thing. That won't cost you."

>The napkins catch quickly as you dip them into the flame of a nearby candle.

>You hold your smoking igniter over the shot glass, which erupts into a small blue flame.

>"Whoa," Rainbow exclaims.

"Now get me the salt."

>The bartender hands you a salt shaker, and, as you sprinkle the white crystals onto the flame, it turns orange and grows a bit.

>You extinguish the flame by covering the tiny glass with your palm for a few seconds, then gulp down the remaining liquid with a grimace from the saltiness.

"And that is why I'm a scientist," you say, standing up and taking a bow.

>"That's a cool trick," the bartender states, sliding you another shot. "Have another on the house."

>You quickly drain the glass.

"Alright, that's enough for me. I'm going home."

>"Aw, c'mon Anonymous! Stay a bit," Rainbow begs.

"No. I have more work to do tomorrow; I can't be hungover."

>You don't have work to do tomorrow.

>It takes a few days for the charcoal to be prepared, and at least a day for the potassium nitrate to be extracted.

>As you lumber towards the door, Rainbow sprints in front of you and blocks your path.

>"You aren't leaving until we say you can," she threatens. "Another round!"

"Get out of my way. This isn't what I find fun anyways."

>"Then what do you find fun?"

"I don't know! But intoxication is definitely not something I enjoy!"

>“You ain’t leavin’ until you tell us why you care so much about debts,” Applejack threatens.

“Is that what this about? Me wanting to pay Pinkie Pie back for that bagel?”

>“No!” Rainbow shouts. “Celestia, no! We just wanted you to relax and have some fun, Anon.”

“Don’t call me Anon. I’m not your pal, your buddy, or something like that. You want me to have another drink? Fine. I’ll have another drink. Maybe I’ll choke on it and get out of this insane universe.”

>You barely notice that you are grinding your teeth and your fists are clenched as if you wanted to punch Rainbow Dash right in her stupid fat mouth.

“Bartender. Two shots of your best scotch,” you order, walking back to the bar.

>He grabs a crystal bottle from the top shelf and pours out two glasses.

>You raise your glass to the orange and cyan mares now by your side.

“Cheers, cunts. Bottoms up.”

>You down one, and then the other.

“Ya know, I thought this universe would be different. I thought I would get away from all the goddamn morons that populate Earth. Vermin. Blech. But, no. I can’t be left in peace. I tried to be polite. I tried to be nice. And, where did that get me? Right fucking here. Right where it got me last time. People trying to be friends with me, and not realizing I don’t want friends.”

>Rainbow Dash and Applejack recoil back like you just shot a man in front of you.

>You leave the bartender a few coins on the counter, and stumble out into the night.

>As you wander aimlessly, you realize you, once again, have nothing to do.

>A high school memory suddenly stirs as you walk to the basement.

>“Anon, why aren’t you going to the dance?” Brittany asks you over your particle physics book.

>Brittany was a brighter-than-average girl and an acquaintance of yours.

>She had long blonde hair, wore fashionable clothes, and worried that she was overweight despite her slim figure.

>She had been hounding you over not going to your school’s Winter Formal for the last week.

>You slam the book shut.

“I have told you this over a thousand times. I abhor modern music, don’t know and don’t care to learn how to dance, and don’t enjoy cheap food. So, if you need a further explanation as to why I am not going to the dance –”

>“But it’s fun!”

“Maybe for you. Leave me alone.”

>You begin to storm out of the library.

>“What if I asked you?” Brittany suddenly asks.

>A few people look up.

>One of the most popular girls in school going to the Winter Formal with a nerd like you?

>It would be the scandal of the school year

“The answer is still no.”

>You shove open the door and walk out into a windy snow day.

>“But, Anon –”

“Do not call me Anon, or Anonykins, or whatever the hell else you decide to nickname me! My name is Anonymous, and I am not going to the dance with you or anyone.”

>You leave the girl in the cold and walk to your next class.

>For most of your life, you have been separate.

>You were always above the rest, placed into higher classes, skipping grades, acing every test without even trying while girls cried and boys raged over their B’s and C’s.

>Some scorned you.

>Others saw you as an esoteric oddity, a mysterious omniscient lurker, like a panther.

>They were all beneath you, and you were always separate and alone.

>Not that you cared.

>Not that anyone else cared about who you were.

>The world of alcohol, drugs, sex, fast cars, and law breaking was all beneath you.

>You avoided them like a festering pit, only interacting with them in the falsest, basest way possible.

>And, because of this, you were always alone.

>You may have been liked, but not befriended.

>It is better that way.

>Science needs no friends.

>A book.

>You want a book, or something to read.

>You head back to Twilight’s tree, but collapse on the library floor before you can even reach one of the shelves with that last though ringing in your ears.

>Science needs no friends.