>The Persephoniac Corridor pushes you out harshly, you fall to your hands and knees and hurriedly gasp for air, impulsively praying to a god you no longer believe in that there is, in fact, air.
>As your lungs inflate you wipe the amniotic-like fluid from your face.
>You begin to impulsively pray that the air won't kill you, but forcibly stop yourself.
>That kind of perpetual self-doubt is not a road you want to go down.
>Your surroundings seem fairly normal.
>It is night at the edge of a forest. Or a grove? There are trees in any event.
>You're not a botanist but the trees look like trees are supposed to. Green and brown. Leafy.
>This is a good sign
>As you walk closer to them, you are shocked to see something even more familiar than trees.
>Hanging from trees are what have to be apples.
>You run to the nearest tree and rip a low-hanging fruit from the limb.
>You turn it over in your hands.
>This is a fucking apple.
 
 
>A red fucking apple.
>You violently consume the apple in a flurry of bites.
>You almost choke as you eat it, barely bothering to chew.
>You eat the core, leaving nothing behind; you even choke down the stem.
>You hate apples, you've never liked them.
>Strong memories of drinking apple juice as a hospitalized child make the fruit distasteful to you in your later years.
>The fruit is now associated with a bigger memory than the hospital.
>This fruit is of earth.
>You may be on Earth. Tears stream down your face as you eat a second, and then a third apple.
>Well, at least AN Earth. Probably not yours.
>You don't think about that now.
>The mere possibility of a familiar world excites you.
>A world where most of the indigenous life doesn't see you as an affront to nature, won't try to murder you on sight!
>A vicious kick to the back of your head ends your reverie, your face hits the ground hard and you vomit up that last apple.
>You spin around into a defensive stance and find yourself face-to-face with...fuck
>An irate traffic-cone orange quadruped wearing a Stetson cowboy hat.
 
 
>The alien is less than two meters tall and babbling at you in some silly alien language.
>The cowboy hat is a big giveaway that this is an STO world.
>The damn thing in your head starts to hum as it recognizes language and begins to compile a database.
>As it works, it warns you that it may be operating at sub nominal levels.
>Physics is slightly un-similar to your terminus of origin, despite the familiar objects.
>In fact Pi is three here. Three point zero zero repeating.
>All this rushes through you head as Orangey points a...hoof? yes a hoof at you. It points at the tree. It points at itself.
>You hold your hands up in what you hope is a placating gesture. It seems the apples belong to it.
 
 
>Suddenly, your implant informs you it has cracked the language and is readjusting your frontal-lobe's Broca area.
>You are startled; this usually takes at least weeks of hearing the language. To get it in a few minutes is absurd!
>"An' you might be a big varmint, but that don't mean you can go 'round eatin' mah apples! Ah have half a min' to..."
>Oh ok. The orange horse speaks English with an exaggerated southern accent. That's why the implant adjusted so fast, this language is on file already.
>Your mind breaks just a little bit as you realize this is, in some ways, the strangest dimension you've encountered but that it's only the similarities that make the differences so jarring.
>"Hey! Hey!" You wave your arms to get Orangey to shut up a second. "I’m sorry I ate your apples! I was just really hungry!"
>This seems to slightly appease her. "Oh NOW you can talk, huh? I don't guess a monster like you has any money to pay me back for mah apples?"
>You in fact are not even wearing clothes.  Orangey is dressed more than you with that damn hat. It's kind of chilly you realize.
>"I don't have any money, I didn't realize the apples belonged to anyone. Is there any other way I can pay you back?"
>Orangey narrows her eyes "Ah guess we'll find out." Suddenly she spins around and the last thing you see are her hooves flying toward your head.
>You impulsively begin to pray she won't kill you but manage to stop right before you pass out.
 
 
 
 
 
>The first thing you feel is that your back is sore. Not the muscles, as if you had exerted yourself, but the skin, as if you were covered in scratches.
>Your implant informs you that you had been knocked unconscious but are awake now and have suffered no serious injury.
>It also spills out a whole mess of data about your surroundings that would only be really meaningful to a mathematician.
>Strangely, Physical constants here tend to be round numbers. Also the speed of light is abnormally slow.
>These are possible signs of an artificially created dimension.  The implant is quick to tell you it might just be a naturally occurring dimension that is really weird. All things are possible in the WSOGMM.
>It also helpfully informs you that you have not contacted any viruses, have not grown any foreign bacteria, have not been invaded by nanites, have not become a host to parasites, have not had your electrons shrunk slightly, have not grown any saboteur black blood cells, have not suffered any transcription errors, and have not been subjected to radiation, tachyons, fuckmatter, The Stuff, or (higher than normal levels of) Inderdimentional Fatigue.
>Also: you are currently being subjected to a magic field.
>Goddammit. You open your eyes to find yourself suspended over a table as Orangey, now joined by a purple horse stand below you, seemingly examining you in minute detail.
 
 
>There is a distinct red glow around you that is duplicated on a horn that protrudes from the forehead of the purple horse. This would be the 'magic' field the implant warned you about.
>It always bothered you how the device labeled anything it couldn't detect properly as 'magic'. It seemed almost superstitious of the programmers.  In any event once the implant picked up on what it actually was, it would rename it and attempt to create a detection protocol.
>Hey Twilight, I think it's awake, put up one o' them magic forcefields so it can't escape or nothin'."
>A more solid red bubble a few meters in diameter appears around you. Your implant gleefully informs you that it is magic.
>As you look past the bubble you see that you are clearly inside a hollowed out tree.  
>And why not? Why shouldn't you be inside a tree, encased in a magic forcefield generated by a purple horse, while being examined by an orange horse that earlier had beat you unconscious?
>Your mind cracks a little more. This is bad; you haven't had a two-crack dimension in a while.
>You put the past out of your mind and decide to focus on your current predicament.
 
 
 
>"Excuse me?" you ask, a little timidly "could you maybe let me down?"
>"The purple horse-thing seems startled. "You can talk? Applejack, you didn't tell me it could talk."
>"Eh, it mighta said sumfin." Applejack muttered.  "All ah know is it was eatin' my apples."
>It seems the purple horse maybe isn't an absolute bitch. "I didn't know the apples were anyone's, I was just hungry." It seems Applejack is the name of the violent orange horse.
>The forcefield dissipates and you find yourself lowered to the floor.  The two horses stand before you.
>Applejack stares at you distrustingly.  You now see a mark on either side of her flank of three apples in a triangle shape.  
>The purple horse has a mark as well, of a starburst.  You wonder if it's some sort of sigil.
>”So it was all a misunderstanding? I'm sure Applejack won't hold it against you!" She smiles at you and you can't help but smile back.
>"Yeah" Applejack says, somewhat begrudgingly you think "I don't mind you havin' a few apples.  There's been a lot o' weird creatures around here lately and if all o' them ate my apples I'd be run out o' business."  
>They way she mentions the weird creatures makes you realize she may have been as afraid of you as you were of her.  Purple Star horse had a strange look when she mentioned it as well.
 
 
>"So Ahm sorry bout buckin' you inna head, twice. And draggin you here to Twilight's. She seems to think you're not threatinin' or nothin'. No hard feelings?"
>Applejack extends her hoof in a familiar gesture. Hoping it's the right response, you reach out and shake it.
>"No hard feelings" you agree. Applejack smiles and you smile back.
>Your back and your head hurt like hell, but the pain is greatly softened by the feeling of knowing you aren't about to be horribly killed.
>It's a nice feeling to have.
>"Well now that that's settled, some introductions are in order!" The cheerful purple horse speaks up.
>"My name is Twilight Sparkle, and you've met my good friend Applejack."
>You pokerface at the name. Twilight Sparkle?
>Then you realize what you have to do and you feel a chill. This will be a first for you.
>"Nice to meet you Twilight, Applejack, my name is...Anonymous."
>That is your name now, as far as you can remember.
>It's been a long time since that fucking wall-squid mind-raped you and ate your name; leaving you permanently identity-less.
>The trauma comes back a little when you hear it in your native language. You wern't even sure how it would be translated exactly.
>It was a long time ago, you tell yourself to quickly get over it. Have to focus on the now.
>Twilight and Appplejack smile at you and you smile back. Their smiles are infectious.
>You imagine your implant informing you that you have been infected with a smile.
>Likely a horrifying prospect in other circumstances.
 
>"Real nice to meet you Anonymous" says Applejack "If you'll excuse me though, I need to get back and make sure nop0ny else has eaten any apples."
>no...pony?
>She says her goodbyes and leaves.
>"Well Anonymous" Twilight says "If you don't mind I'd love to ask you a few questions?"
>"Sure" you agree "I have a few of my own, but is there anywhere I could take a bath first?"
>You're naked, dirt covered from the drag here, and still have vestiges of the slime from the corridor on you.
>She agrees and yells at someone named Spike to draw a bath.
>You expect another pony, but Spike is a small bipedal dragon. Why not?
>Your head emits a faint click and you don't even notice.
 
 
 
>You lower your body into the water of the bathtub
>The length is just perfect for you to relax in.  
>Although it's sort of wide and the bottom is strangely flat.
>Because it's made for horses you realize.
>Spike the dragon brings you some soap, a brush, and a towel.
>He brings Twilight some scrolls, ink, and a quill.
>You wonder how she’s going to use the quill, she just uses her magic field to grip it and uses it normally.
>She conducts the interview while you bathe.
>You've been in way weirder situations than this before, this just seems natural.
>"First Question!" she begins. She is way enthusiastic about this. "What species are you exactly? I'm not familiar with it at all."
>"We call ourselves Humans." You answer as you scrub your back. She writes the answer down
>"And you guys are ponies?" You ask her in return.
>"That's right, and this is Ponyville. Obviously you aren't from around here, are you from Equestria or from farther away?"
>You pause in your scrubbing. Ponyville? Equestria?
>You think about the answer to this question.
 
>You get asked it a lot and you almost always lie. Telling the truth was always a bad idea.
>Something makes you go for it this time.
>"I am actually from another dimension." you cautiously inform her "I came here through a portal."
>She doesn't miss a beat. "Facinating! So you came from your world, or dimension, to ours? Like an explorer or something?"
>"That’s right." you say, rubbing some shampoo in your hair.
>"So are you a magical creature that can make portals at will?"
>"Eh, not really at will. I have a very small machine in my head that judges several criteria and will let me attempt to open one if the criteria are met."
>As you talk the quill scratches faster and faster.  
>You can tell from the look on her face that she's struggling to figure out witch question to ask next.
>It's a cute look.
>You rinse the soap from your hair.
>Very faintly, something that should never make a click, makes a click.
 
 
>The interview continues
>"So your world, which is called?..."
>"Earth" you say, relaxing back in the tub, "But that’s the planet I guess."
>"We usually call the dimension itself TO or Terminus of Origin. In the Portal Hopping business."
>"Interesting, our planet is called earth sometimes as well. Especially by earth ponies."
>"There’s likely to be a lot of similarities between our worlds." you agree.
>As you relax in the bath the interview goes on.
>Twilight asks about technology and you tell her stories of the internet and cars.
>She asks about population and you startle her with huge numbers.
>You feel at peace here, in the bathtub, talking to the purple pony.
>You ask her about her world, she tells you about the Princesses that benevolently rule it.
>She tells you about the shining cities and the dusty towns she’s been to, all inhabited by ponies.
>She tells you of dragons and minotaurs, of hydras and manticores, all creatures she’s seen and confronted in one way or another.
>She tells you about her friends who she would do anything for.
>Twilight Sparkle, you realize, is pretty amazing, the best person, or pony, that you've come across in a long time.
>A bright star in the middle of a sea of dark nebulous dangers.
>She asks you about your life, about your friends and hobbies, and for a moment you become sad.
>"I haven't been home in a long time." you tell her.
>"My friends wouldn't know me if they saw who I am now."
>This kind if saddens her and you feel like a monster, to bring these feelings into this happy world of hers.
>But she doesn't let it get to her
>You see, on her face that displays emotion so openly, sadness change to determination.
 
 
 
>"Surely you haven't changed that much." she says.
>"Here in Equestria, we all have special talents, potential hidden inside us when we're born."
>"When we get older we inevitably find our talent, and it becomes part of us, our cutie mark."
>She shows the starburst sigil on her flank. She had mentioned before that her talent was for magic.
>You wonder if that's why she seems so happy, she basically has her purpose in life drawn on her butt.
>The thing that most humans search for and are lucky if they find.
>"It's clear humans don't have cutie marks." she continues
>You suddenly realize you are naked in the tub. When she was a pony you didn't care.
>Now you see her as a person. And you are very self conscious.
>She doesn't notice and just keeps talking "But I'm sure you still had things that defined you."
>"What did you do? Did you have any special skills? Any Hobbies? Anything you really enjoyed?"
>A dark part of your mind lets you know you've become good at stabbing since you began to travel the corridor, but you push it away.
>You think about your youth. A large part of it was spent in a hospital bed.  
>You had friends, but you didn’t make them easily.
>You read a lot. Your love of books started in that hospital and was carried with you when you left.
>You tell Twilight this and her eyes light up.
>Click
 
 
 
>"I'm the exact same!" she says excitedly.
>"When I was just a filly I spent all my time with my nose in a book!"
>"I may have gone a little overboard but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying to read!"
>"I don't know if you noticed but this is actually a library."
>You hadn't noticed when you were strung up earlier.
>"If you'd like I could show you around? I know they won't be the same books, but it's nice to actually meet someone who enjoys reading!"
>You wonder suddenly, if reading is rare here in Ponyville.
>You know you read so much back in your world, mostly to fulfill your desire to escape.
>Until you managed to actually escape of course.
>You haven't seen much of Ponyville, but if it's as wonderful as Twilight describes, the urge to escape might be pretty low.
>Reading might be a pretty rare thing here.
>You exit the tub with your back to Twilight, after finding your modesty, and wrap the towel firmly around your lower half
>Using another towel to thoroughly dry off, you walk into the library proper.
>Twilight tells you about the contents of the shelves and magics you down a favorite of hers.
>A Yellow pony with a grayscale mane adorns the cover, but that’s not what you really notice.
>The text is familiar, but skewed. You explain to Twilight that you can't really read it.
>She's disappointed, obviously, but you tell her not to worry.
 
 
 
>It might take a little time, you explain, but if you look over enough text, your implant will decipher it and make you able to read it.
>It might not even take that long, due to the similarity of your languages.
>This pleases her, and she gives you a few books to attempt to go through written in the same text style.
>Spike leaves to go collect the rest of her friends, she's sure they'll want to meet you.
>You look forward to it. Usually a new dimension has you scrambling for survival.
>You're usually hiding, waiting, pouring over readouts from your implant, ready to rip open a door as soon as possible.
>This time is different. This time, you resolve to wait.
>You need it, your very soul has been blackened, has been torn apart and stitched back hastily.
>You need it to mend.
>You resolve to read Twilight's book.
>You'll take as much time as you need; for once things are beginning to seem bright.
>You look at the text and the thing in your head starts to hum.
>Then it clicks.
>It Clicks
>It Clicks
 
 
>It Clicks
>IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO CLICK
>NOT EVER
>You pull up visual. Your left eye vision fades out and is replaced.
>With blue.
>AN ERROR HAS OCCURED
>The changing of certain Mathematical values has rendered this unit unable to mechanically access data.
>Please manually relocate to where values of pi, Maxwell's constant, and the aorist exchange are STO.
>What is this?
>You don't know this feeling.
>It rushes at you and overwhelms you.
>You can almost see it.
>Everything that seemed so bright, so hopefull a moment ago, has just become the darkest prison you've ever been in.
>It becomes too much, the cracks in your mind spread wide and the floor rushes up at you.
>The book falls from your hand.
END OF PART 1