[Alternate Realities Journal 005]
 
[Shift 27 – Fuck the date]
 
[I have made a grave mistake.]
 
[Foolishly, I mistook the long string of decent, non-threatening universes as a logical pattern, and that things were looking up. That there wasn't a chance that I may die at any time, and that I could relax and enjoy the bizarre ride I found myself on.]
 
[Basically, I had grown complacent with my situation.]
 
[Fate has seen fit to teach me the error of my ways. There is no logic to these worlds, or the spell that hurls me through them. Only madness, randomness, chaos. I can think of a certain creature who might enjoy that, however.]
 
[Two shifts ago all the ponies were instead giant, deadly poisonous rattlesnakes, who enjoyed what they referred to as "biteplay" in their intimate encounters, and I was their favorite consort. In the next, humans were actually quite numerous, but seen as lesser creatures and hunted for sport. Here, it rains swords. How I have survived as long as I have is as much a mystery to me as are the logistics of the weather.]
 
[For a time, I was able to become optimistic about seeing my own world and friends again. Surely, I would find a reality with a Twilight or possibly Celestia that held the power to send me home. Well, my Equestrian home, anyway. Now I question if I will live to see the sun rise tomorrow. If the world I find myself in even |has| a sun.]
 
[God damnit Twilight.]
 
===
 
>You close the weathered tome with a soft "fhut". Carefully, you stow it back in the enchanted satchel on your belt, and settle back into waiting for this current storm to pass, beneath a hastily constructed shelter somewhere deep in the Knifeleaf Woods.
 
>It was strange how the sound of rain was always calming to you. Even when the raindrops were actually huge slabs of sharpened metal stabbing into the earth and anything else unfortunate enough to be caught outside without a lead umbrella. That is, If every creature here wasn't |also| made out of swords. You've had to avoid a lot of hugs this week.
 
>The odd calm gave you some time to think, after so long a period of narrowly avoiding certain doom. Would you really never see your friends again? Your |real| friends, not the depraved caricatures of them you meet in most realities. Sure, your home had it's own share of strangeness, but nothing like some of these aberrant realities. What confused you further was the fact that so many of them were so bizarrely sexual in nature. 'Perverse' doesn't even come close to describing some of the things you've seen, much less done. Granted, you've definitely taken advantage of the situation once or twice, but still, it struck you as odd. You wondered what Twilight would think of...
 
>Twilight. Again your thoughts drift to her. And again it makes you angry. After all, it was her and her stupid magic's fault that you were currently huddled under a piece of plywood that was becoming so dangerously perforated with sharpened steel you wondered when the one that finally broke through would strike. Pretty much everything bad that had happened to you in the last two years was her fault, thanks to all those magic spells she tested on you. She was the bane of your existence.
 
>So why in all the levels of all the multiverse's hells did you want nothing more than to see her again? Were you crazy? Maybe you just wanted to put a fist through her face. You do recall "throw her into a wall" crossing your lips some shifts ago. Yeah, that's it, you remember now. Next time you see her starry magic backside there was going to be some serious purple pony hurling going on. Oddly enough you seem to recall having a dream about such a thing not too long ago. Perhaps hurling was just in her future. Her fate. Her destin–
 
>A large scimitar piercing clear through your weakened shelter and lodging itself in the ground between your legs stirs you from your thoughts. You take that as a signal that perhaps it was time to move on. You stand up, making sure to not run your head into any of the razor sharp points mere inches above, and begin searching for a path of safety through the cleaved canopy.
 
>Though, a thought stills your movement. You look back at the curved blade that nearly changed your vocal range to a soprano. With a shrug, you grasp it's intricately gold-inlaid handle and yank it free from the dirt. For being cumulus in nature of creation, it was a finely crafted blade. You stuff it into the satchel, next to your magical blunderbuss in a way that you hope prevents you from grabbing it from the wrong end.
 
>You may be stuck on a bad run of universes, but that's no reason to not take any opportunity they throw at you, no matter how small. And who knows? Maybe the next one would break the cycle.
 
>And maybe Twilight would suddenly sprout wings. You laugh at the mental image, before a familiar ringing makes itself known. Looks like it really was time to move on. You mentally steel yourself for trans-dimensional travel, deciding to voice your final thought in this world to the emptiness of the forest.
 
"Wherever I'm going, it couldn't be worse than this place."
 
>Lucky for you, trees don't laugh. At least, not in this particular universe.
 
[Shift 28]
 
>The sound and light subsides. You open your eyes upon a crowd of hundreds of ponies, beyond a wooden stage, cheering wildly.
 
>Maybe your luck finally |had| changed. This must have been some world where you were a beloved rockstar, or an accomplished performer of stage and screen. Maybe a magician? No, that was dumb. Magic was real here. Or was it? It's entirely possible this version of Equestria was without magic, and that yours was a solitary talent.
 
>Regardless of the reason behind your popularity, you felt it necessary to do something befitting of your situation. So you took a bow.
 
>Or rather, you tried to. You suddenly notice precisely how your positioning had been altered by the shift. You were now kneeling, bent over something hard and uncomfortable. Attempting to move your hands told you they were bound together behind your back by a thick rope. As well, something splintery and a little wet was digging into your neck on all sides.
 
>Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, you craned your neck around and up as much as you could in your restraints. There, dangling above, was a large, wide, perfectly sharpened blade, at the top of a wooden slide. You looked back down, and for the first time noticed the anger visible on most of the shouting ponies' faces.
 
>This was no stage performance. At least, not one you would be walking away from intact.
 
"Well, so much for optimism."
 
>"Anonymous of Earth!"
 
>A booming voice from close by startles you out of your lamentation of luck. Standing next to you was an angry looking Celestia. She wore a strange, almost military-styled uniform, like one you might find outfitting the dictator of some dinky banana republic. It was heavily decorated, almost so thickly that you could barely tell the fabric of it was as white as her coat. She even had a matching oversized military cap resting on her astral mane, in lieu of the usual tiara.
 
>Despite the situation, you couldn't help but think she looked a little silly.
 
>"You have been charged with numerous crimes against the Solar Empire, chief amongst them being the attempted coup by the rebellion forces of the New Lunar Republic. Do you have any last words?"
 
>Okay, now was the time to shine. You could talk your way out of this. You've talked out of worse. ...Well, maybe not. This looks pretty bad. You wracked your brain for any plausible reason as to why your head should remain attached to your body. ...Nothing was coming up. Nothing besides...
 
"I don't suppose you would believe I was actually an interdimensional traveler and have absolutely no idea what any of this is, would you?"
 
>"No, I would not."
 
"It was worth a shot."
 
>Admittedly, you were a bit panicked at this point. You've been in a lot of sticky situations before, but none quite as sticky as this. For all intents and purposes, this looked like the end of your adventures. And yet, your damnable optimism reared it's oblivious head. Perhaps those rebels she spoke of would swoop in at the last minute, stopping the execution and saving you from suddenly becoming a foot shorter; or five feet shorter, depending on your perspective. That's how it always happened in movies and cartoons, right?
 
>...Right?
 
>"Release the blade!"
 
>The hum of metal grinding against wood fills your ears, followed by a heavy thunk. The world spins.
 
>It was an altogether unusual experience, rolling along the wooden stage like a lost child's ball. Out of reflex, you try to stop yourself, put your hands and feet down on something solid. They don't listen. Probably because they were over there, still attached to that meaty hose erratically spurting red liquid onto the platform you trundled across. A golden force then hefts you skyward, turning you to face the roaring mass. They looked a lot happier than the last time you saw them.
 
>With one final act of defiance, you use what little energy you have left to force your tongue through your lips. Then, all goes black.
 
---
 
>...
 
>You awake with a start. A darkened, wood-paneled room greets your eyes. No shouting masses, no sensations of tumbling without control. You looked down, waves of relief washing over you as you find your body at the end of your neck, right where it was supposed to be. With a sigh, you dropped back into the downy embrace of your bed.
 
>Though you couldn't help but wonder where you were now. Was this still the same universe? How much of that gruesome experience was a dream? Just the beheading bit, or the whole thing? Were you still in Swordquestria, or somewhere new?
 
>You didn't have too long to ruminate, as after a moment a door creaked open, and light filled the room at the flick of a switch. A white-coated earth pony walked in with a smile, flank marked by a red plus surrounded by tiny hearts.
 
>"Ah, you're awake."
 
>It took you a moment, but you remember her face. Nurse Redheart, this one was. She looked the same as she did in your home reality, though for whatever reason the dominant color of her nurse cap was midnight blue instead of white. She trotted over, a tray of appetizing food balanced on her back. The sight of it suddenly reminded you that you've been surviving on stored rations for about a week, seeing as how knifestalks and iron spikefruits were not suitable to your palate. You waste no time in attacking the meal.
 
>"So, how are you feeling? Well, I hope?"
 
"Oh, yeah, pretty good I suppose," you sputter through a mouthful of apple, "Everything in working order far as I can tell."
 
>She smiles. "That's good to hear."
 
"Don't I know it. Had the craziest dream last night, where I got my head cut off at some kinda execution. Amazingly vivid, too. Felt so real I considered checking my neck for scars when I woke up."
 
>Her smile fades at the mention of your nighttime escapades. "Oh dear, looks like the amnesia hasn't worn off yet. I swear, it persists longer every time."
 
>You stop chewing, and swallow hard. The fibrous matter catches in your throat, enacting a coughing fit. Again your medical overseer's worry grows.
 
>"Oh, I'm sorry dear, I forgot you need to stick to liquids for a few days. I tried to line up your esophagus as best I could, but I can only do so much with a needle and thread."
 
>You punch yourself in the chest and force the offending food particles into your stomach.
 
"Line up my... what in the world are you talking about?"
 
>"Right, sorry, the amnesia. Totally forgot." The irony elicits a short titter from her. "Anyway, you'll need to rest for a few days while everything sorts itself out in there. Head reattachment is a delicate process, but still doable with a little specialized healing magic."
 
"Head... reattach–"
 
>You fling the covers off yourself, food tray included. You rush over to the mirror in the corner of the room to inspect yourself, much to your caretaker's dismay.
 
>"Careful, it might fall off again!"
 
>Your own familiar face greets you. Tracing a hand over your neck, you now notice the thick scar running around its circumference, and the heavy black threads stitched crossways along it, presumably having held you together at some recent time. You turn back to look at the nursemaid, slowly and carefully; partly out of shock and partly because you realize that comment about it 'falling off again' might hold some merit.
 
"That... That actually happened?"
 
>She nods. "Yes, unfortunately. We got you back here and into one piece again as quickly as we could. By my count, this is the fifth time this has happened. Seems strange the Solar Empire wouldn't see fit to destroy your remains after the first few times you came back, instead of just tossing them in a dumpster out behind the castle. Though there was that rumor about us having clones of you, maybe they caught wind of it and didn't see the point."
 
>The information slowly seeps into your addled brain, about what exactly happened between now and the last time you recall drawing breath. Unfortunately you have about as much luck piecing things together as a drunken baby trying to put a square peg into a round peg.
 
"I'm... I'm confused."
 
>Nurse Redheart sighs with a knowing smile. "It's alright, it should all come back to you eventually. There's probably some lingering brain damage from the time you were separated, but the healing magic usually sorts that out too. ...Usually."
 
>You grasp at your head again. Your voice begins to warble slightly.
 
"...Brain damage?"
 
>"Oh yes, it's only a natural occurrence when your head's been off for an hour or two. Not to brag or anything, but I'd like to think I'm getting better at the procedure, it used to take a good four or five before we had you stitched back together."
 
>Brain damage. You most likely had brain damage. From being dead for two hours. Spec-fucking-tacular. You clung to the last vestige of hope you could recall.
 
"But... you said the magic would fix it, right?"
 
>She makes a sideward glance that does not put you at ease. "Yes, the revitalization spell |should| restore most cells to their original state, but there's always a bit of permanent damage that persists, and based on the number of times this has happened, it's... well." She perks up, though you're unsure if the action is completely genuine. "You look much better this time, though. Maybe the spell worked out some of the previous damage?"
 
>You stared long and hard, before raising a finger and taking a step forward.
 
"Who's in charge around here? I think I'd like to have a word."
 
>She makes another sideward glance. "That would be you, actually."
 
"Besides me, then."
 
>"Princess Luna leads the New Lunar Republic alongside you, but she's in a war meeting at current, and you |really| should get some more rest befo–"
 
"Take me to her."
 
---
 
>The medical mare leads you through many a long, winding corridor. You haven't seen a window since awakening, meaning this was either the biggest, most labyrinthine bar you've ever been in, or a subterranean bunker. If only the former were the more plausible theory, you could definitely go for a stiff drink right now. And from the sullen expressions of the many war-battered ponies you walked past, you were not alone in this fantasy. Seems like you had just left a war-torn reality, too. One you liked much better than this one, to be sure.
 
>Your attention rests for a moment on a nondescript wooden door, same as the forty seven other nondescript wooden doors you've passed already. This place was probably a nightmare to navigate after a few shots. ...Fuck, stop thinking about alcohol. You have no more, it's all gone. You ran out a while ago, detoxifying snake venom from your system. As it turns out there's a magical little window of blood alcohol toxicity, about two margaritas and a shot of absinthe away from "completely stone dead", where the venom is totally overpowered and dissipates harmlessly. At least that's as far as you figured based on your continued breathing. Probably should look into suitable cross-special liver donors, though.
 
>"We're here." Her voice and sudden halted movement brings you out of your rambling mental tangent about sweet, delicious, mind-numbing– stop. "As I said, she's in a meeting, but seeing your speedy recovery should boost morale enough that the intrusion shouldn't matter." You notice a familiar voice shouting all manner of absurd things on the other side, the door reverberating with every word. She turns to walk away. "If you need anything else, just ask one of the–"
 
You grab her by the shoulder, bringing a slightly started expression to your eyes. "Please don't leave me alone here."
 
>She fumbles momentarily, offput by your desperation. "I'm sorry, El Presidente, but there are other patients I need to tend–"
 
"Have someone else cover for you."
 
>"...Well, I'd still like to–"
 
"I'll give you a raise."
 
>"The uh, the Resistance isn't really a for-profit organization."
 
You ponder a moment. "I'll make you head of the Equestrian Health Organization once we take over."
 
>Now she ponders, the idea striking a chord within her. Finally, she sighs in defeat.
 
>"Alright."
 
"Thank you." You turn and place a hand on the door. Before you can open it, something clicks into place in your head. "...El Presidente?"
 
>"You insisted everypony call you that after the third beheading."
 
"Ah. Of course."
 
>You turn the knob, and the second the latch is free of the strike plate, the door is blown completely open by the force of the shouting beyond, knocking you to the floor. It stops shortly, before refocusing on your position.
 
>"WHO IS FOOL ENOUGH TO INTERRUPT A WAR MEET– Ah! Anonymous! You have awoken!"
 
>Making sure your head is still on straight, you rise back to your feet and cautiously step into the room. Inside, your gaze meets with a few familiar faces. Luna is the first you notice, what with the shouting and all. She wore a uniform very similar to Celestia's- almost a mirror copy, in fact- except for the main threading being a deep, royal blue, much like Redheart's hat. Somehow, she didn't look quite as ridiculous as her solar sister. But that might have been based on memories of drunken shenanigans with her counterpart from your home reality, where many a night led to the wearing of silly outfits.
 
>Besides the lunar leader, you find Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy seated across the rounded table from her, each decked out in similarly absurd dress, though nowhere near as grandiose as Luna's. Besides Rarity's, of course. For a moment you wondered where the other half of your primary entourage was, then remembered they were most likely on the other side of this whole bizarre situation. Luna speaks again, in her "normal" speaking volume, still several decibel scales above what you would consider not ear-shattering.
 
>"We trust the reattachment process went smoothly?"
 
You nod. "It did, yes."
 
>"Splendid! Then you must be ready to retake your place at our side in these crucial times of strategy?"
 
"Actually, I was coming to see what was up with, um... you know, the uh. The everything."
 
>Luna's joyous expression dulls, much like your nurse companion before her. "Blast, has the amnesia taken you again?"
 
You nod again. "It has. Worst so far, I've been told. Don't remember a thing."
 
>She sighs heavily. "We feared as much. But no matter! We shall fill you in on the stellar accomplishments of the New Lunar Republic, as we have done many times before!"
 
You nod once more. "That would be good, I believe."
 
>Nurse Redheart speaks in a slightly hushed tone. "You should take it easy on the nodding, those stitches only went in last night."
 
You keep your head perfectly motionless. "Noted."
 
>Princess Luna (or was it Princesa?) turns and begins her baleful tale of the resistance. "It has been five long years since I put my hoof down against the tyrannical rule of my sister, Celestia, and her accursed Solar Empire. For seven years, we fought hard for what we thought was right, and the superiority of the night. Thousands have lost their lives, fighting for our cause. I could never have imagined how hard the millions would fight when it all began nine years ago..."
 
You lean over and whisper to Redheart. "Uh, what's she doing?"
 
>"The princess likes to... 'embellish' the exploits of the Republic."
 
You scratch your head. "Okay, but in the same story? Seems like someone would call her out on it."
 
>Redheart gives you a slightly incredulous, but still mostly indifferent look. "Would you?"
 
You rub at your neck scar. "I see your point."
 
>"Eleven years, we've fought. But soon, all will come to fruition, and the billions of lives lost will not be in vain, for I will..."
 
"So, how long has the rebellion actually been going on?"
 
>"About six months."
 
You blink. "...I got my head cut off five times in six months?"
 
>She sighs again. "The Republic is... not really known for its subterfuge."
 
"Hm. Then I guess there's probably less of a disparity on the death count, at least when she started the story."
 
>"Actually, thanks to wartime breakthroughs in healing magic, I don't think anypony has actually died from the fighting. At least not for very long, anyway."
 
You scratch at your chin idly. "I end up in the strangest of places."
 
>Eventually, the history of the Rebellion ends at around 7000 years and 97 trillion billion deaths. You snap back to attention once the rambling regal turns her focus on you, mind having wandered to someplace far less silly.
 
>"Now that we have brought you 'up to speed' so to speak, you are able to join in and help plan our next attack on the Solar Empire. Lieutenant Applejack!"
 
>'Lieutenant' Applejack suddenly bolts upright from her previous position of snoring loudly against the table. A string of drool still connects her to her resting place. "Nhyuh? Whuh? Is tha story over?"
 
>"How goes the advancements in apple-based weaponry?"
 
>Sleep clings to her for a moment longer, before shaking off and recalling the situation. "Oh, right. Tha genetically modified Super Apples are comin' along pretty good, should be jest the right size for tha catapults in a few days. However, our stocks of Zap Apples are runnin' low, so we may have to load less potent breeds intah the cannons before long."
 
>"Understood. Major Rarity, has the Trojan Pony completed it's construction yet?"
 
>"Not yet, my liege. We still require a few more loads of gemstones before it will be ready."
 
>Luna looks moderately surprised. "More gemstones? But we have already encrusted no less than five tons of diamonds and emeralds to its surface. Surely this is enough?"
 
>"Under normal circumstances, yes, but I fear that unless it is just right, they may not accept it. This is after all the third Trojan Pony we've sent, so each successive one must be several magnitudes more fabulous than the last for it to work. And |only| using diamonds and emeralds is so passe, there needs to be ruby and sapphire accents!"
 
>You catch an eyeroll coming from Applejack, and chuckle inwardly. No matter how strange and otherworldly these realities get, some things never change.
 
>"Very well. Commander Fluttershy? Is the Wild Creatures Battalion ready for deployment?"
 
>The yellow pegasus leans forward into the light, where you suddenly notice the scar along her eye, underneath an eyepatch. She twirls a combat knife between her hooves, and speaks in a gruffer version of her normally soft voice. "Yes, Great Leader. The Bear quadrant have all been trained to not stop biting, even after their target has stopped moving. There was... some weakness, in the rabbit corps, but," She stabs the knife into the table, "they have been culled."
 
>Okay, maybe some things |do| change. Maybe some things change a whole god damn lot. You notice even Luna is eying the gritty psychopath pensively, as if she herself was afraid of her.
 
>"Yes... well. Very good." Her demeanor returns to normal, and she looks back at you. You jump slightly, before trying to put on the hardest face you can. "So, those are our resources at current. Do you have any of your trademark brilliant plans, or has that part of your mind not yet returned to you?"
 
You grin slightly. "Oh, I believe it has, my fair Luna. For I have concocted a plan so amazing, I wonder how even I could have come up with it." Luna mirrors your smile at the apparent change in your personality. "I am going to sneak in to the Solar Empire, and assassinate Celestia myself."
 
>There is a round of gasps at your bold plan, but Luna appears positively ecstatic. "Splendid! I shall round up a contingent of the finest soldiers an–"
 
You raise a hand. "There is no need. For this plan to work properly, it can only be myself that goes." You carefully nod your head to the side. "And her."
 
>Nurse Redheart speaks up for the first time in a short while. "Excuse me?"
 
"You know, in case my head comes off again."
 
>Applejack looks at you, concerned. "Uh, not to doubt yer brilliance, El Presidente, but is it really safe for jest tha two of yah to sneak into enemy territory like that?"
 
You cross your arms behind your back. "In all honesty, no. But if any more than just us goes in, we will surely be spotted. This plan requires the utmost of subterfuge to succeed."
 
>Luna takes on a look like you just revealed the astonishing revelation that the moon was in fact not the back side of the sun. "Subterfuge! Of course! Why did we not think of this sooner?" She laughs heartily, and slightly maniacally. "My Anonymous is back once more!"
 
>The delighted diarch suddenly lunges forward and wraps her forelegs around your shoulders and embraces you in a passionate kiss. The action takes you completely by surprise, and you scramble to push her away, though not due to any unpleasantness.
 
"Watch the neck, watch the neck!"
 
>She relents, slightly embarrassed. "Ah, apologies." For the briefest of moments, she reminds you of a different rendition of her, one much less... well, loony. You almost manage a genuine smile before she shakes off and returns to her original demeanor of relative derangement. "At what time shall you depart?"
 
You regain your composure from the previous event. "Come next nightfall, to better hide under the veil of darkness."
 
>Luna closes her eyes, horn glowing with power. She reopens and affixes them on you after a moment. "The night has fallen."
 
"Then we leave at once."
 
---
 
>The cool night air wafts against your neck scar as you take long, determinate strides down the darkened path. Redheart has to canter to even keep pace with you. Silence prevails for a few moments, but eventually her curiosity gets the better of her.
 
>"El Presidente, are you certain only the two of us can break into the highly fortified Solar Empire compound, sneak past the multitudes of guards stationed at every possible location, and assassinate the princess who herself is a force to be reckoned with? I mean no disrespect, of course, it just seems... impossible."
 
"There's no disrespect in such an honest question, Redheart," you reply, without slowing your pace or breaking your focus on the road ahead. "To be perfectly honest, it seems impossible because it probably is. The odds of a mission like this succeeding is monumentally slim."
 
>"Then it must be an exceptional plan for you to be carrying it out anyway, personally, no less."
 
"Actually, there is no plan. I'm just going to surrender."
 
>You hear her almost stumble over herself, before coming to a full stop. "You're |what|?" She stands there for a few seconds longer before noticing your continuing advance. She gallops up to fall back in stride with you. It's another few seconds before she can find the proper words to continue, simple as they are. "But... why?"
 
Your focus on the road ahead hardens. "Because I'm god damn sick to death of all the shit I've had to put up with lately. I've had enough. So rather than play along with this whole undoubtedly idiotic rebelling thing, I'm just going to turn myself in and chill in a dungeon for the rest of my time here."
 
>Confusion, as well as concern, is evident in her reply. "Then why did you have me come along if you're just going to turn yourself in?"
 
You elicit a short sigh. "Because so far you're the most reasonable creature I've encountered today. I just wanted someone not insane to talk to for a little bit before I end up going somewhere that will surely be worse."
 
>"...I'm afraid I don't totally understand what's going on here."
 
"I suppose you wouldn't. I'm mostly just venting, I guess. Been having a rough time of it lately."
 
>Things are quiet for the next few minutes, as Redheart no doubt tries to work out what was going on. You could tell her the details if you wanted, but it probably wouldn't make much of a difference, like everything else that's befallen you lately. Eventually, she saves you the trouble of breaking the silence.
 
>"So, what makes you think they won't just cut your head off again when they capture you?"
 
>Your leg freezes in midair. That was a very good point. In your haste to escape from this nightmare, you didn't really fully think through the consequences of your potential actions, like usual. Might have been because of that brain damage thing. You wheel around on one foot and regard your companion with a smile.
 
"See, |that's| why I brought you along. Maybe when this is all over I'll make you head of military strategy instead of just the EHO."
 
>She returns the smile, though somewhat uneasily. "I appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer to stick to purely medical duties, if that's alright with you."
 
"Hm, alright, I understand. Though in any event, I suppose I |do| need some form of plan before we proceed here."
 
>You both take a moment to think, the cool night air remaining still on the moderately overgrown hidden path.
 
>"Well, I'm not entirely sure of all the details of the situation, but is there anypony else that you might could consult with?"
 
A plan suddenly explodes into your brain like a bullet from the idea gun. "Actually, I think there is. Though she may not be completely willing to help at first. Luckily I've got an elaborate three phase plan that should work perfectly. Come on, we have a certain stupid purple pony to find."
 
---
 
>You and your moderately unwilling partner in espionage crouch in a bush deep inside Solar Empire territory, overlooking a particular giant tree library. You stare at it's darkened windows with intense concentration, while Redheart eyes you pensively.
 
>"I sure hope you know what you're doing."
 
"So do I. Time for phase one."
 
>You pause momentarily to hope that the thing with Fluttershy was an anomaly, otherwise the plan you were about to carry out would almost certainly fail, and you would probably be killed. Again. Only one way to find out. You stand up from the bush, and cup your hands around your mouth.
 
"Books are dumb!"
 
>A small rustle is all that can be heard afterwards as you quickly hide again. Redheart is still giving you that look, only now more incredulous.
 
>"What's that supposed to d-"
 
>Before she can finish her inquiry, the library door slams open, as every light inside simultaneously turns on.
 
>"Who said that?!"
 
>And there she was. Twilight Motherfucking Sparkle, in all her stupid glory. In fact, her glory was stupider than usual, thanks to that goofy outfit you knew she'd be wearing. She angrily looks around the dark, trying to find the perpetrator of such an egregious insult to all book-kind, paperback and hardcover alike. You reach into your satchel and pull out your combination spellbook/journal.
 
"Phase two."
 
>You lightly toss the book out of the bush, where it lands out in the open with a thump. A purple ear twitches, and Twilight's focus zeroes in on the abused album. She trots furiously towards it, looks over the cover, then picks it up and shouts into the darkness.
 
>"Who's book is this?!"
 
"Phase three!"
 
>With a triumphant shout of those words, you spring from the bush, grab the startled librarian, and quickly drag her back into the foliage. And then, for anything else around, all is quiet.
 
>Twilight struggles against your embrace, trying to wrench herself free, as well as gnaw through the hand you had firmly clamped over her mouth. Redheart seems less than impressed with your brilliant strategy.
 
>"Elaborate three-phase plan, hm?"
 
"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Now gimme a hand here. ...Er, hoof. Whatever, just hold this crazy bitch a second."
 
>Redheart braces your grip enough to allow you to free up one arm, with which you reach into your bag and fish around. You yelp in pain when you jab yourself on that god damn stupid scimitar, but eventually find the object you sought. Thankfully, Twilight's intense struggling fades when she feels the cold barrel of your shotgun press against the side of her head. You lean over and look her in the eyes from above.
 
"I'm going to let you go now. If you scream, call for help, or try any magic bullshit, you can say goodbye to everything north of your neck. We clear?"
 
>She nods. Cautiously, you release her, and she scrambles to put a little distance between the two of you, pressing up against another bush. You keep the shotgun trained on her, which settles her a bit. Hatred fills her eyes as she looks over the two of you, sizing up the situation.
 
>"I thought we executed you."
 
"I got better."
 
>I can see that. So why are you here, then, and why haven't you already killed |me|?"
 
"Because... I need your help."
 
>She begins to laugh, entirely too loudly. You shake tour weapon to draw attention back to it, and she quiets back down. An arrogant smirk remains plastered on her stupid purple mug.
 
>"And what makes you think I would help |you|?"
 
"Because, I'm not the Anon you think I am." You pick up the spellbook that was haphazardly dropped into the bush nearby during phase three. "Now tell me, what do you know of Parallel Universal Transportation magic?"
 
>Twilight scoffs. "I know it's impossible."
 
"Then you don't know nearly as much as you think you do. Read this."
 
>You drop the book in front of the indignant pony, who flips it open with her stupid magic. Almost as soon as she sees the first page, all her anger and hatred melt away,  eyes going wide with legitimate surprise.
 
>"This is... this is written in ancient Equestrian! Not even Celestia was alive when this dialect was in use. Where... where did you get this?"
 
You can't help but smirk at the familiar reaction to potential new knowledge she displays. "I got it from you. Specifically, a you from an alternate reality."
 
>She looks back down at the tome, mouthing the two words to herself. She looks back up. "So, at the execution, when you said–"
 
"I was not lying. I happened to trade places with this realm's Anonymous just before you guys decided to remove my favorite head. ...Okay, maybe second favorite."
 
>You can almost feel the irritated look Redheart was giving you from behind. Twilight remained oblivious, however, as she usually did when coming to new and astounding revelations about her world. Content in your negotiations, you lower your weapon, which she takes quick notice of.
 
>"You really |aren't| the Anonymous I thought you were. Because he wouldn't be foolish enough to lower his weapon that quickly."
 
"I can shove it up your ass if it'd make you feel more comfortable."
 
>She raises her forehooves defensively. "Alright, alright." Her attention returns to the strange spelltome sitting before her. Flipping past the initial page, she eventually comes across your journal entries. "What's all this?"
 
You give a heavy sigh. "I started keeping a journal, since most of the book was blank. Figured if I bought the farm along the line whoever found it might get a kick out of all the stupid shit I've been though. Honestly I feel like I'm caught up in some kind of comedy-driven work of fiction sometimes."
 
>Twilight gives a halfhearted chuckle as she skims over the entries. "Well, if it's any consolation, I doubt that's the case, as no creature in their right mind would think up things as ridiculous as what I'm seeing in here."
 
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" You suddenly wave both hands back and forth "Look, let's stop talking about how shitty my life is and get back on track." You reach over and turn the pages back to the primary spell page. "I want you to see if you can figure out how to read this, and tell me if there's a way that I could possibly get home. Or at the very least, to another reality as quickly as possible."
 
>The decorated general (Or was she an admiral? Colonel? Who cares.) gets that smug smile again. "Actually, I think I should be able to cast this already."
 
Your eyes go wide. "You can? But... how? Every Twilight I've shown this to so far hasn't even been able to |read| the damn thing, let alone cast it."
 
>"Military pressure tends to speed up research into a lot of things, as it turns out. We found a similar ancient spelltome a while back, but it turned out to just be a spell that made the sky turn paisley for a week."
 
>Man, you thought regular magic was weird. Ancient Equestrians must have been on some serious shit to come up with these kinds of spells.
 
"Alright, well can you cast it on me, please? If I can't go home I'd at least like a jump start on leaving."
 
>She eyes you defensively. "I don't know. What will you do for the Solar Empire in return?"
 
You can't help but sigh again. "I'll tell you absolutely everything I can about the resistance. Where they're located, how many troops they have, the flavor of Luna's lipgloss, everything I know."
 
>Redheart steps forward, obviously concerned. "But sir, they'll kill everypony they can! The Solar Empire takes no prisoners, much like the Republic."
 
You shrug. "So what? It's already been proven that death is a minor inconvenience at best in this place."
 
>She steps closer, her tone stern and unrelenting. "Not if there's nopony left alive to revive them. If the Empire gets wind of our location, they'll not leave one soul alive. We will be completely and utterly annihilated. As a mare of medicine, I cannot let that happen, even at the cost of my own life."
 
>You look at her contemplatively. She made a strong case. And as much as you hated to admit, you did not hate this realm enough to wish such a severe penalty on that many of it's inhabitants. Before you can think of an appropriate reply, Twilight intercepts.
 
>"I've never seen anypony, Republic or Empire, that cares that much about the lives of others. I... to be honest, I hate this foolish conflict as much as you do."
 
>Redheart seems shocked at this information. "But... you're one of Celestia's most highly decorated generalsI" (Ah, got it the first time, okay.) "If you don't want any more bloodshed, why would you not try to stop this war?"
 
>Twilight sighs and pulls herself close together. "Because if I did it would be |my| blood that was shed. And I don't think there would be anypony willing to revive me. Celestia... my idol, the pony I've looked up to my entire life... she's insane. Everypony is insane."
 
"Preaching to the choir, Señor Sparkle." You take another sip from the can of Ponesi you had cracked open during their conversation, which you picked up before leaving the NLR settlement. You would have preferred Pona-Cola, but you have to take what you can get in this journey.
 
>She gives you a half-hearted smile. "I don't even remember how this whole thing got started. This endless cycle. Every time one side gets displaced from the throne, the other immediately starts trying to overthrow them again."
 
You choke on your soda a bit. Clearing your throat, you look curiously at Redheart. "Hold on, I thought you said the rebellion had only been going on for six months."
 
>"Yes, it has, for this instance. Like General Sparkle said, the cycle resets with the displacement of one side, about twice a year."
 
"And how long has |that| been going on?"
 
>Twilight fields that one. "Nopony even remembers. It could have been ten years, or a thousand. Maybe more. The princess |are| ageless, after all."
 
>You suddenly wonder about the story of the rebellion that Luna was telling earlier. Maybe there was more truth to her rambling than anyone let on. Okay, maybe not seven thousand years, but still, longer than you were led to believe. All the more reason to get the hell out of here. You return focus to Twilight.
 
"Okay, so it's been established that I can't tell you about the Republic, because that would be very very bad for a lot of ponies. But if there's anything else I can do to–"
 
>Twilight raises a hoof to stop you. "It's alright. You don't need to do anything more. The two of you helping me understand that this has gone on for far too long is more than enough."
 
>Relief washes over you as Twilight looks back to the spellbook. Her horn begins charging with power, readying the spell. Amazingly, she seems able to continue her conversation in the process.
 
>"As soon as I cast this spell and send you on your way, I'm going to stop this war. I'm not sure how, maybe I can rally both sides by applying to whatever vestiges of common sense and decency they may have left. As Celestia as my witness– no, not Celestia. By my life, and the lives of ponies everywhere, I swear that no more blood shall be spilled by senseless warfa–"
 
>Twilight's blood spills senselessly all over your face as a bullet rips through the back of her head and out one eye, leaving only a cavernous empty hollow in its wake. Beyond the initial flinch, you stare silently at her slackjawed face, before the stun wears off and her limp body crumples to the ground in a heap. The magic surrounding her horn fizzles out with a pathetic sputter.
 
>"Well, that's inconvenient," Redheart deadpans from behind you.
 
>An excited hoofsoldier of the Republic springs up from another bush, smoldering rifle in his magical grip. You slowly turn a hard, stonefaced expression towards him.
 
>"Hah, I got her! Oh I'm so getting promoted for this. Whoa hey, El Presidente, what are you doing here? Did you see that sick headshot? And on General Sparkle, of all ponies! What's that worth, like, fifty Republic points? Man, I'm totally gonna rank up now. Hey, what are you doing with that fancy shotgu–"
 
---
 
>Once again, you look out over a shouting mob of ponies beyond the hastily erected wooden stage. It's hard to believe you were here only two days ago. But that was just kinda how it was in this reality; events that are normally few and far between in other worlds unfolded here at an alarming rate. You take one a last deep breath of the brisk evening air.
 
"So, any last words?"
 
>The irate alicorn looks up at you from her stockade binding, giving you probably the meanest look you've ever gotten from a horse. Maybe it was the way you were casually resting against the guillotine slide with one hand, release rope clutched in the other against your hip. She was probably wishing she looked that fly back when your positions were reversed. Though momentarily her expression turns thoughtful, and she finally answers your question.
 
>"I, ah, don't suppose you'd believe I was an interdimensional traveler, would you?"
 
"...Heh." You fight it as hard as you can, but eventually fail to hold back the laughter freeing itself from deep within. "Ehehehh. Hahaha." Neither can you abate the exponentially intensity of it. "Hahahahaha! Ahahahahahaaaaa!" Before long you're doubled over, laughing like a madman, gasping for breath. Even Celestia herself starts to laugh, after a few nervous, uncertain chuckles.
 
>"Eheheh. Heeheehee hahaha!"
 
>Before long, the entire crowd is going along with it, laughter and joy filling the air.
 
>"Hahahahahaaahahahaha!"
 
>"Ahahaha!"
 
"Hahhahahaahahahaaaa!"
 
>"ehhhehehhhehehhee"
 
>"Huehueuhheuheuh!"
 
"HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAFUCKYOU"
 
>You yank the rope nearly off the gallows, and the blade drops, neatly severing head from neck. It even cleaved through that crazy astral mane thing she had going on. Funny, you always thought it was more like a gaseous body than actual hair. You bend down and grab her by the horn, lifting her up to eye level. Your smile meets her scowl. One fancy spin later and you're holding her high above, much to the crowd's pleasure. You soak up as much excitement and mirth as you can, aware this could be the last you'll see of it for some time.
 
>"Alright, don't milk it."
 
>Nurse Redheart trots up beside you, a small pin reading "EHO" now attached to her hat gleaming in the setting sunlight. You turn around and toss the still fuming head off into the crowd somewhere as the two of you make your way to the back of the stage where the rest of your council waited.
 
"Man, I can't believe the entirety of the Solar Empire was toppled by something as simple as throwing a sheet over Celestia's head when she wasn't looking. I mean, she just immediately assumed that we had made the night eternal and surrendered on the spot."
 
>"Hm, yes. To be perfectly honest, I'm not really that proud of the average intelligence of my reality's inhabitants. At least, I am now that I know there are others out there that are less..."
 
"Silly?"
 
>"Yes, that."
 
"Don't worry too much. I've been places far sillier already. Hell, this isn't even the first time I've toppled an entire regime almost single-handed. Though it is the first time I've done it sober."
 
>"That sounds like an interesting story."
 
"I'd like to think it is. Remind me later and I'll tell you all about it."
 
>Reaching the rest of the Republic's leaders, you stand in line with them and prepare to listen to Luna's victory speech.
 
>"Citizens of the New Luna Republic! I welcome you, to this monumental day in history! Who would have thought that a scant forty years ago..."
 
"Ooh, she's starting out high this time. Betcha she'll break a million years before this is over."
 
>"I'd say only about fifty thousand."
 
"You're on." You chuckle to yourself, before looking to your other side, where a moderately peeved Twilight Sparkle sat. The iron shackles around her legs accentuated her new eyepatch rather nicely, you thought. "Feeling any better, Sparkflank?"
 
>Her demeanor does not change as she looks up to you. "You just decapitated my leader and mentor, how do you think I feel?"
 
"Well, I was more referring to the head wound, but eh." You idly rub at your neck scar, less prominent than before, but still noticeable. "Besides, she'll be fine."
 
>"I'll hate you forever for this."
 
"Sure you will."
 
>It was a bit sad that the parts of Twilight's brain that got blown out just so happened to be the ones where she kept all her information about your meeting the night prior, as well as pretty much everything she knew about ancient Equestrian. Only thing left was "Faern Kordec", which you believe roughly translated to "fuck you shitcunt". You made sure to write it down in the back of your journal for future usage.
 
As Luna drones on, you watch the head of her sister bouncing around the crowd. "Man, I totally should have kept that head. Would have given my other one someone to talk to."
 
>Redheart looks up at you with moderate dissapointment. "Your 'other' head, again?"
 
"Yes, I– " The realization hits you. "Oh, no, I don't mean like that. Remember I said this wasn't the first regime I toppled? Well that one ended mostly the same way, decapitation and everything. Kept her head as a souvenir. Also, sometimes I get lonely and need something to talk to. Here, check it."
 
>You reach into your bag, emitting a short 'damnit' after poking into that sword again, and pull out a teal-haired, chitin-skinned head.
 
>Redheart is not nearly as surprised as you thought she would be. "Is that Queen Chrysalis?"
 
"Oh, does she exist here? Yeah, sure is. Say hi Chrissi."
 
>"When I get my body back I'm going to destroy you and everything you've ever loved."
 
"Heheh, you should get with Twilight, she hates me too. Eh, Purpleangry?"
 
>Twilight looks up again and suddenly reels back in shock at the contents of your hand. Chrysalis stares into her remaining eye with determination.
 
>"Purple one; If you wish to destroy Anonymous, I can help. He is extremely insecure about his suppressed love for y-gah!"
 
You hastily cram the loudmouthed head back into your bag. "Alright that's enough outta you. Anyway yeah, apparently changelings are kinda like reverse cockroaches or something. They can live without any major organs or even a body indefinitely as long as they can get enough love energy to sustain them. I think she probably leeches off the latent love in the air around me most of the time. So don't be alarmed if you feel lightheaded, that's all that is."
 
>You attention is suddenly drawn back to Luna's rambling, as the speech appears to be winding up. "...And so shall it be for the next one million years!"
 
"Hah, told ya. You owe me a... what did we bet on?"
 
>"Free nationwide healthcare."
 
"Well, sucks to be everyone, then."
 
>You're just about to tune her out once more, when something else catches your interest. "In celebration of this new era, we decree that the night shall now begin... |one hour earlier!|"
 
>The crowd erupts into riotous cheers, but you can barely hear them. A terrible, horrible thought just entered your mind, crushing any possible joy you might have been feeling. You could only hope, pray that you were wrong.
 
"Uh, Redheart? What's today's date?"
 
>"Novermber second, I believe."
 
>You feel like a bowling ball just dropped into your gut.
 
"Did... did we just fight a war over Daylight Savings time?"
 
>"I'm afraid I don't know what that is, sir."
 
 
"I hate my life."