"It was warm... it was soft... it was familiar..."
Little by little, the tangible world around her began to manifest within her.
Luminous, transparent... almost laughable.
As carefree as if she were resting in a hammock beneath a blue sky and a gentle breeze.
In the middle of a golden meadow of ripened barley...
Nothing mattered, nothing happened, and then suddenly... everything mattered, and everything happened.
[---]
"Ughhh…" A groan echoed through the darkness.
Applejack muttered in protest as her eyelids refused to open. Gradually, consciousness began to return to her, like a slow tide dragging away the last vestiges of sleep. After several restless minutes struggling to wake, reality began to assert itself through every fiber of her body.
A burning itch spread across her back, and a sour taste coated her mouth—unpleasant sensations that, instead of fading, only grew sharper by the second.
At last, she opened her eyes and spat to the side in a careless, sudden motion.
The sting lingered, but after wriggling on the cold floor and pressing the sore spot against the surface, the discomfort began to ease until it finally vanished.
"Much better…" Applejack murmured in relief, lying still and breathing calmly before closing her eyes again. The undefined dimness and the lingering drowsiness pulled her effortlessly back toward rest.
But before she could sink completely into that heaviness, a new sensation caught her attention.
Lightness. Coolness. They spread across her coat, especially over her head and bare ears.
Uneasy, Applejack sat up, staring into the void as she recovered. She remained that way for a moment, until, unsure whether she was truly seeing or not, she rubbed her eyes and looked around once more.
Nothing changed—everything was still dark. Slowly, she began to recognize the familiar shapes surrounding her: tables, sofas, piles of books, and… ponies?
The sound of multiple breaths mingled throughout the room. The faint image made her dizzy for an instant; but as the sensation faded, her now clearer mind began to piece things together.
The incongruity between her memories and her current surroundings became evident through the confusion that flooded her at once.
"Is this…? Where am I?" she asked herself between yawns. She was in the living room of a house that, because of the darkness and her sluggishness, she couldn't quite identify. The walls—whose texture made her imagine she might be inside a tree—barely stood out beneath the dim light filtering through the shuttered windows. Elongated shadows stretched across a cluttered floor, everything steeped in a gloomy, motionless, and strangely familiar atmosphere.
Outside, the whisper of a world ruled by night was absolute—a distant murmur that barely disturbed the calm within.
Why was she there? Why were there so many ponies sleeping around her? Why did she feel so light?
Trying to stand in the dark amid her questions, Applejack tripped over a bottle. With quick reflexes, she caught it before it rolled away. She held it carefully and examined it up close.
"Cider?" she muttered, noticing the strong aroma wafting from the bottle. As she scrutinized the room more closely, she distinguished more bottles scattered across the floor.
Then the memory—or rather, the realization—struck her like lightning. In an instant, all the pieces fell into place.
"Ha, ha, ha…" the pony began to laugh softly. It was so obvious… how could she have doubted it? Books, wooden walls, cider bottles… The picture was clear: the night before, she and the others had celebrated the summer sunrise at Twilight's house, staying there to sleep after the party.
"I reckon we overdid it a bit with the cider…" Applejack murmured with a sheepish smile, setting the bottle down. A sudden hiccup jolted her, but she smothered it with a deep breath.
Now everything made sense. The silhouettes of ponies around her fit perfectly into the scene: her friends, still asleep after the long night of celebration.
"I suppose it's still early... uhhhhhh... getting a bit more rest wouldn't be bad…" she mumbled sleepily, lulled by the faint breathing of her companions.
There was still a tiny unease in her, a vague feeling that something didn't quite fit—but the sensation was quickly swept away by the heaviness flooding her body.
She lay back down in the same spot as before; it didn't take much effort to get comfortable, even with only a thick blanket for a mattress and a light sheet beside her. She curled up peacefully and closed her eyes.
Yes, everything seemed fine. Nothing to worry about… she could sleep again in peace.
That's what Applejack thought as she tried to drift off.
However, sleep didn't come; something—again—kept it away.
Lightness. Coolness. The same bothersome sensations as before returned. Yet this time, her mind clearly grasped the cause.
Something was missing on her head.
Still lying down, eyes closed, Applejack extended her hooves and searched blindly among the shadows around her.
She didn't find what she was looking for.
"Umphhhh…" The farm pony sat up at once and checked the headboard of her simple bed.
Nothing. Her hat was gone.
"What the hay…?" she muttered, feeling slightly irritated. Now fully awake, Applejack looked into the darkness of the room, hoping to find the hat that defined her so well.
Aside from herself, the silhouettes of four ponies could be seen—ghostly in the blackness. They were, without a doubt, her friends. All still asleep, sprawled across the floor or the furniture, wrapped in blankets and sheets. Though… they looked a bit messy, maybe from tossing and turning in their sleep.
Scanning for her hat, Applejack's gaze wandered over each of her friends.
She couldn't help but chuckle softly at the awkward pose Rarity was in. The unicorn lay just a few steps away on the couch, forelegs stretched upward, tail folded behind her. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish's, releasing polite whistles and rude gurgles.
Not far away, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were sleeping on the floor, barely recognizable except for the tufts of mane poking out from under the cozy blankets covering them—and by their peculiar breathing; particularly Pinkie Pie's soft, intermittent giggle that escaped now and then.
And amid all this, in the center of the room, on the table, lay Rainbow Dash—completely sprawled out. Her signature rainbow mane and the rest of her body peeked out from under a jumble of blankets, bottles, and a… hat?
"Very funny, Rainbow Dash…" Applejack grumbled, annoyed, as she grabbed the hat firmly. It didn't surprise her one bit that it was her mischievous pegasus friend who had taken it.
Her thoughts broke off for a moment.
Was someone missing? Twilight, maybe? She told herself she was probably upstairs, yawning as the thought passed.
Resolved now to get some more sleep, she headed back to her spot, ignoring Rainbow Dash's sleepy protests. She put the hat on and then—
"Umphh!"
The rejection was instant. Her mane, almost like an extension of herself, sent her an unmistakable signal: something was wrong.
That wasn't her hat.
A chill ran down her spine. A faint caustic smell filled her nose, making her wrinkle it. Slowly, Applejack turned her head toward the shadowy shape she had seen earlier.
And then she noticed it.
On the central table, where Rainbow Dash lay, the pegasus's head poked out from between the sheets, mumbling in her sleep. Without the hat Applejack had just taken, her rainbow mane was visible beneath the dim light—but also…
Applejack felt her breathing quicken. It took her a moment to recognize it.
Bandages.
Many thin white bandages covered Rainbow Dash's face, leaving only half of it exposed. Applejack swallowed hard.
When had her friend been hurt so badly?! she thought, gripped by a rising fear.
But that wasn't all. Her eyes, straining against the darkness, made out more.
The bandages—like thick strands from some pompous spider's web—stretched beyond the pegasus's body, trailing over the table, the floor, the furniture. Some were cut, torn, dirty… scattered all around the room.
And beyond the bandages…
The floor was spattered with dark stains—drops of a thick, black liquid spreading in every direction.
Her breathing turned erratic. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. The very air she breathed seemed to thicken, growing heavier... suffocating.
"Ah!" she cried, clutching her head with her hooves.
A sharp pain pierced her, like a sting burrowing deep into her mind.
Memories.
Faded fragments of… a pony in armor.
The crash of a train grinding to a halt.
A battle against a dragon.
A massive wave… and then an explosion.
Had she just had a violent dream? Or was she inside a nightmare now?
The shock hit her full force. The pain clouded her senses. Applejack squeezed her eyes shut, dizzy, trying to block out the images flooding her mind.
Without realizing it, blindly and stumbling, she kept backing away—until she bumped into the wall.
"CLICK."
The dry sound startled her.
All at once, a white light flooded the room, chasing away the shadows. Everything became clear in an instant.
With the switch accidentally pressed behind her, Applejack froze—paralyzed before the scene now fully illuminated.
[---]
Far from midnight, outside the world they once knew, yet still bound by friendship…
From that extraordinary group of ponies, Applejack was the first of Twilight's friends to awaken in that land of sensitivity.