"Beautiful! It's perfect!" exclaimed Rarity with joy, as delighted as if she had just discovered an immense pink diamond.
Sealed inside a latex suit, the unicorn was not in a cave of precious gems nor at an exhibition of priceless sapphires. Rather, she was in the food storage room of the fake treehouse belonging to Twilight, holding up what, at first glance, seemed like an ordinary jar of seasoning.
Even so, for Rarity, the object was an exceptional find.
"A bit of cornstarch and a touch of licorice will turn the meal I'm preparing for my friends into a proper banquet worthy of Canterlot," she declared triumphantly, leaping gracefully from the small stool she had been standing on and magically closing the pantry doors behind her.
She was alone, talking to herself in the basement, but that didn't bother her; she would have said the same even if she weren't.
That detail, however, made her pause to think.
"Then again... Applejack didn't mention anything about cornstarch in the pantry... How curious. Hmm... that can't be right."
Rarity could think many things about her friends, but in certain matters, she had no doubts. Applejack was diligent and rarely failed in her duties. If the list was her responsibility, it was expected to be accurate.
But it wasn't.
The unicorn stopped walking, examining the supply parchment carefully. A deep reflection on the past few days enveloped her.
At the beginning of that near-week, Applejack had taken leadership of the group. Her first order as the farm pony in charge was to review the available food supplies and every trace that Twilight and Badwhiz might have left in the treehouse.
Rarity hadn't been against the decision—it was reasonable—but in her view, her friend should also have made cleaning together an immediate priority.
"Rainbow smelled awful..." she muttered, recalling with disgust how her sense of smell—and that of the others—had awakened in the worst way when they caught the stench of their own companions. Worse still, of themselves…
"But at that moment, Applejack was only thinking about supplies. And Pinkie... did she help with that?"
Her memory of those days was hazy due to bouts of fever—caused more by the shock of the new environment than by any real illness. Still, she'd retained enough lucidity to be certain that Pinkie Pie had helped Applejack make that list. And both ponies had checked it several times to ensure its accuracy.
"'We're missing sugar!'—was that what Pinkie Pie kept saying?"
That detail didn't matter now... What mattered was understanding why so many things were missing—and why there were so many extras instead.
"Clack!" echoed through the silent room.
A sudden chill ran down the unicorn's spine. Alert, she levitated a plastic pan with her magic, sweeping it through the air around her while nervously scanning every corner.
Nothing. Only the empty pantry.
After an indeterminate moment, she lowered the pan quietly, her eyes lingering distrustfully on the ordinary shadows of the plastic furniture.
Even with her senses dulled by the suit that isolated her from the outside world, Rarity could feel it clearly.
This liminal world—this toy box in which they were trapped—was not empty.
Something was watching them... from within the toy world itself.
Toy world? thought the clever pony. That definitely sounded better. She mentally jotted it down in her glitter-covered diary.
"We need to hold another meeting... today," she announced aloud without taking her eyes off the motionless air in the middle of the room. "But first... Pinkie."
With those words, she opened the door and, without looking back, left the place.
Behind her, in the closed pantry, a new jar of cornstarch had appeared.
[---]
Hidden beneath a long tablecloth, a faint candlelight flickered under the table, revealing a strange and unsettling scene among the shadows.
"My precious! My precious ones! At last, you're mine!" panted an unrecognizable Pinkie Pie, drenched in sweat. Her mane, tangled with splinters, was a chaotic mess of wild curls. Her grin—so sharp it seemed to hurt—painted the frenzy that consumed her across her face. Her eyes, feverish and gleaming, were fixed on something only she could comprehend.
And that something, the cause of her euphoria, was right there.
In front of her, between her hooves, lay a pile of multicolored candies glimmering under the trembling light, as if they were precious gems. Pinkie gazed at them with devotion, caressing them with the tenderness of someone guarding an irreplaceable treasure.
If her friends had been there, they would surely have taken a step back. But they weren't. Instead, she was accompanied by others—for whom such behavior was neither strange nor uncomfortable.
"Well done!"
"Yes! Hooray!"
"Congratulations!"
The voices came from the darkness. There, bathed in the wavering light of the candle, stood a group as improbable as it was familiar: Mr. Fluffy, Mr. Turnip, and Rocky the rock—each in their respective buckets—old confidants of Pinkie Pie, now enthusiastically celebrating her latest achievement.
"Thank you, thank you! I couldn't have done it... without you! Wheee!" squealed the pink pony between gasps, trying to catch her breath as she collapsed to the floor.
"What are friends for, then? You can always count on us," said Mr. Turnip solemnly.
"You always pull it off, buddy!" added Rocky the rock.
"I knew you would from the start," completed Mr. Fluffy.
Under a shower of compliments, Pinkie was lost in her own little world. The atmosphere, though absurd, felt friendly enough—but that sense of harmony was as fragile as the candle's flickering flame.
"Oh, really? Well, that's not what you said a moment ago, my friend," Rocky retorted, tilting his bucket slightly.
"What I said," replied Mr. Fluffy with a didactic tone, "was that finding candies inside a table leg would be quite an unusual occurrence." He cast a glance at the piece of wood lying on the floor. "I never claimed it was impossible."
"Well, that's not what it sounded like to me," challenged Rocky.
"Of course not! What are you implying?" barked Mr. Fluffy, puffing up with indignation. "Are you suggesting I'm some heartless lump of stone like you?"
"You're dust already, fuzzball," shot back Rocky, visibly irritated now.
"Wait! What's going on? Stop it!" ordered Pinkie, snapping out of her reverie, but it was too late. The two inanimate friends lunged toward each other, their buckets colliding with a hollow clank. The candle wavered, as if an unseen wind tightened around it, threatening to snuff it out.
Before the argument could escalate further, Mr. Turnip intervened in a firm voice: "Enough, you two! What do you think you're doing in front of our friend?"
Silence fell immediately. The gazes—if they could be called that—turned toward Pinkie Pie, who still sat on the floor.
The candle, standing at the center of the cramped space, cast a worrying image.
Its light revealed deep sadness upon the pony's face. Her mane, once bouncy, hung flat to one side, and her coat had lost its luster.
There was no trace left of the joy that had possessed her just minutes before.
"We're sorry! So, so sorry!" cried Rocky and Mr. Fluffy in unison, suddenly stricken with guilt.
"Please forgive us, Pinkie," they pleaded together.
But she didn't reply. Her eyes were fixed on the flame, motionless, lost in thoughts she did not share.
"This isn't working..." she whispered.
Confused, her three friends looked at one another.
"P-Pinkie?" they asked at the same time, watching her intently.
Then, as if awakening from a trance, Pinkie shook her head, her mane inflating again. Patting her cheeks to force a smile back into her expression, she lifted her gaze and spoke:
"Yes, yes, sorry. I forgive you—but promise me you won't do it again," she said with a weak smile.
"We promise! Yes! Pinkie Promise!" they all swore at once.
"Word of rock," added Rocky.
The mood, which moments ago had teetered on collapse, softened again with those words.
"I'm glad to hear that, though a Pinkie Promise wasn't really necessary... We all have misunderstandings, even friends. It's just that I couldn't bear to see you fighting too... not now..." Pinkie finished with a fading smile, lowering her head again.
Then, feeling something like a friendly pat on her back, she heard a voice beside her.
"We're not like your other friends, Miss Pie. You're very special to us," said Mr. Fluffy with a smile that could only be imagined in his tone.
"We'll always be with you," added Mr. Turnip.
"Rocks united, stone unbreakable," declared Rocky solemnly.
All three of them leaned closer, wrapping her in a tight hug.
"Thank you... thank you so much..." murmured Pinkie Pie, deeply moved by their embrace, a genuine smile finally returning to her lips. And although the color of her coat had brightened again, part of her mane still hadn't regained its usual volume.
The heartfelt moment seemed endless, but little by little, the atmosphere began to tense again. The voice of reason—or rather, the pendulum of reason deep within her mind—returned to sever that fragile calm.
"Alright, companions... I think we've taken enough of our dear friend's time," said Mr. Fluffy, fixing his invisible gaze on the pile of candies still clutched in Pinkie's hooves. "It's time to continue with the plan. Don't you agree, Miss Pie?"
"Already?" she asked uncertainly.
They all nodded.
"Well then, if that's the case... ahem," she coughed, clearing her throat. Then, clapping her hooves twice, she announced, "Let's begin!"
The atmosphere shifted once again, charged with an unusual seriousness beneath the backdrop of dancing shadows. Pinkie Pie examined her inanimate friends, now arranged in a circle around the candle. She nodded; the initial preparations were satisfactory.
Then, with great care, she began distributing all the candies among her friends in what looked more like part of a liturgical act—its solemnity, however, undermined by Pinkie's spontaneous giggles every time she popped a candy into her own mouth.
Finally, closing the circle of sweets, she picked up the last candy, lifted it high, and brought it close to the living flame of the candle.
Within seconds, the candy caught fire, crackling and spreading a citrus aroma through the air.
Suddenly, the candle's glow changed, shifting into an intense pink hue that seemed to flood everything around them.
At the same time, Pinkie Pie had assumed an unusual meditative posture.
Balanced on her own tail as a base, she floated in a lotus position: hind legs crossed, front hooves folded upward. The pink pony had entered a zone of considerable mental energy channelling.
She projected her will beyond ordinary thought, beyond the limits of the toy-prison that held her and her friends, even beyond the void that surrounded that world of fragile sentience...
Then, hopping through that astral space between dimensions, amid a whirlwind of integrals and derivatives, she found the thought of the entity she had been seeking.
With a single bite, she caught it—and pulling hard, she dragged it back toward where her real body was.
As if she had suddenly received a heavy weight, Pinkie Pie fell backward with a loud thud. The pink flame in the middle of the circle flickered, returning to its ordinary candlelight. Without delay, her inanimate friends rushed to her aid.
But before answering the flood of questions about her condition, she raised a hoof from the floor and exclaimed loudly:
"I found her!"
Near the flickering candle, a bag of flour that had lain motionless in a corner began to move.
"Owwww... oh dear—by all the starch in the world, what happened?" cried Madame Flour, standing upright as if waking from a long sleep.
"Yeeees! Hooray! You're finally back!"
Many voices overlapped around Madame Flour, who, confused, still had no idea what was going on.
"Seriously... what did I miss?"
Pinkie Pie, who had just sprung up to her hooves, was the first to answer:
"Well, to sum it up simply, let's just say we had a tiny train accident and got stranded in a very, very strange place..."
"Huh? A train?"
"Yup! That, and also that we're now in a very strange place—maybe... another universe," said the pink pony with unusual seriousness. Then she covered her nose and held her breath for a few seconds. As if she were a balloon, her mane puffed back up completely.
"Another universe... really?" murmured a perplexed Madame Flour.
"Yuppy-yup! But don't worry—you're with us now! And now that we're all together, we can fix this. Besides, Mr. Turnip already has a plan to get us out of here... umm! Exactly where was here again?" asked Pinkie, momentarily lost in her own logic.
"Ahem, about that, Madame," began Mr. Turnip, adjusting his leaves. "After several observations, we have reached the conclusion that this plastic world—or toy world, as we prefer to call it—is, with very high probability, an artificially created pocket dimension derived from the residual information of our original universe."
"Wow... that's..." stammered Madame Flour, her thoughts piling up on top of one another.
"Too much info, huh?" interrupted Pinkie, elbowing her confused friend playfully. "Don't overthink it, buddy. We'll give you a slide presentation later. But first... the important part."
With nothing but a wink and a mischievous grin as warning, Pinkie slipped behind the bewildered Madame Flour and suddenly appeared again at the center of the group.
There, without warning, she blew out the little candle that had lit the space, plunging everyone into darkness. But that blackness didn't last long, for almost instantly, a burst of multicolored light exploded around them—sparks and crackles scattering in every direction.
"Welcome partyyy!" screamed Pinkie at the top of her lungs, brimming with joy, wrapped in confetti and holding up a huge milk cake covered with glittering sprinkles.
Before Madame Flour could say another word, her friends hoisted her up amid a roar of cheers.
"Hurraaaay! Hooray!" they chanted together.
Swept away by the excitement, Madame Flour shouted nonsense in return: "Yesss, yes! Quelle félicité!"
More bursts of confetti followed. Madame Flour still had not the faintest idea what on earth was happening—but one thing she did know: if Pinkie Pie was happy about it all, then she could certainly be happy too.
[---]
The kitchen of the fake treehouse belonging to Twilight did not look as the ponies had expected when they first explored it. For starters, the space was oddly large, as if forced into the tree's main structure. The décor was a collection of generic kitchen utensils—all useless because they were plastic—combined with an elegant wallpaper and layout that resembled Rarity's refined home far more than Twilight's humble one.
Perhaps that strange coincidence had given Rarity the comfort she needed to continue preparing lunch… without distractions.
"Délicieux et bon goût," exclaimed the unicorn after finishing the decoration of a potato garnish that would accompany the splendid banquet laid upon the table.
Taking a few steps back to admire her creation, she nodded, even more satisfied.
Inside her latex suit—but feeling perfectly at home—the unicorn had completed her work on schedule, without needing a single extra hoof.
It was a perfect job, just as she liked it. Yet…
Standing before her magnificent finished work, she couldn't help thinking about the obvious absence of the friend who should have been there—helping her, or at least praising her effort.
"And now..." frowning, Rarity looked down beneath the table. She didn't have to look far to find that pony.
"Pinkie Pie!" she exclaimed as she lifted the tablecloth with her magic, yanking out two lumps of pink and white at once.
"Hi, Rarity!" replied a smiling Pinkie Pie, hugging a sack of flour. Her relaxed posture made it look as though she were lounging on a beach. "Did you finish lunch?"
"Yeees," answered the unicorn with a smile that masked her irritation. "And it seems you've finished whatever it was you were doing down there too, haven't you?"
"Yup! Yuppie, yuppie, yuppie!"
"I see... very well! And tell me, dear friend, what task has kept you so very busy?" asked Rarity, her gaze burning like embers.
"Ah, that... well..." Pinkie's words stumbled out awkwardly. "I was looking for... something... to help you in the kitchen! Look, this is the sack of flour you needed!" she said, handing over the bag she'd been hugging the whole time.
"Ah, yes... thank you," replied Rarity, taking it with her magic and setting it aside without taking her eyes off her friend. "And... besides that, is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Perhaps about your extraordinary search under the table?"
"Ehhmm... nope," answered Pinkie Pie, her smile growing even more exaggeratedly innocent.
"No?"
"Nope," repeated the pink pony.
Rarity's stare sharpened further. It was obvious her friend was hiding something...
But—was it really worth getting to the bottom of it?
Rarity knew Pinkie well enough to know that pressing her would only lead to a more confusing answer—and probably nowhere at all.
So, letting it go would be the wisest choice. At least for now.
"Very well, Pinkie," said Rarity with a smile that didn't quite match her real intent. "If that's how it is, so be it. But... I'm sure the other girls will want to hear about this when they return. Will you tell them 'no' as well?"
"Uhhmm..." Pinkie scratched the back of her neck, looking nervous. "No... not during lunch. I think it'd be more fun to tell it tonight instead. Would that be okay?"
"Perfect," Rarity concluded, closing the topic. "Now, could you please help me with the tableware?"
Pinkie Pie nodded eagerly and jumped up from her relaxed pose—only to nearly fall backward at the sight of the magnificent feast spread across the table.
"Oh, by all the salt and pepper in the world! This looks delicious!" she shouted, her grin stretching impossibly wide.
"Indeed, my dear," replied Rarity with a knowing smile, watching with satisfaction as Pinkie Pie licked her lips, unable to focus on a single dish before her.
And it was no wonder.
On the table, exuding a fragrance that would awaken anyone's appetite, lay an entire buffet of varied and exquisite dishes: from a large bowl of white rice drenched in carrot and spinach cream to a side of boiled potatoes with pecans. The food was the very image of the culinary dream Rarity had envisioned that morning.
And also the nightmare Applejack had feared at the start of the same day.
But Applejack wasn't there. Instead, Pinkie Pie now embodied all the opposite emotions the farmer would have had.
"Would you let me try a teeny-tiny bite?" begged Pinkie Pie, drooling like a hound as she leaned her dangerously curious nose toward one of the nearest dishes.
"No!" exclaimed the unicorn, who, with a single flick of her horn, whisked both the food and Pinkie away from their inevitable collision. "Forgive me, Pinkie, but there will be no tasting until we are all seated at the table," she declared firmly.
"But... but... awww..." groaned the pink pony, shrinking to the floor with a face like a scolded puppy.
Seeing her friend's expression of disappointment, Rarity came up with an idea to ease her discontent.
"On the other hoof, since you'll be helping me arrange the cutlery and plates we'll need, I wouldn't mind if you also handled cleaning the rest of the dishes that are still dirty..." she added, directing her gaze toward the pots and pans that still held remnants of the food that hadn't met her high standards.
It took only one glance for Pinkie to realize the opportunity her friend was offering. Like a soldier on command, she stood at attention.
"Yes, ma'am! Yes, ma'am!" she replied crisply, then marched off toward the adjoining room where the sink was, carrying all the dirty utensils on her back.
Rarity didn't need to turn around to imagine Pinkie's smiling face as she trotted off with her spoils.
Moments later, the silhouette of the pony disappeared through the doorway that led to the sink.
And so, at last, Rarity was alone.
"...Alone..."
Her muffled sigh echoed loudly through the kitchen.
Now that no one could see her, she slowly removed the helmet of her latex suit, letting her soft mane fall to the sides.
The unicorn's hair was slightly disheveled, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.
She couldn't fool herself—she was exhausted.
"A bit of fresh air wouldn't hurt," she said aloud, voicing her thought. Without hesitation, she opened the kitchen windows, hoping to feel some of the soothing harmony of nature.
However, nothing moved. Outside, everything remained inert, exuding that intoxicating scent of plastic that filled the air.
That was when she remembered—she wasn't in her own home, nor in her real world.
She was far away, lost with her friends...
A sudden wave of unease flooded her.
Immediately, rejecting that depressive feeling, Rarity shut the window and put her helmet back on.
No one was going to ruin the lunch she had prepared for her friends with a bad mood—least of all herself.
Setting her emotions in order, Rarity exhaled softly. And then...
"And now what do I... do?"
Taking a seat in front of the banquet, Rarity had no idea what to do next.
Or rather, with the rest of the day.
Having lunch with her friends was a given. After that... keep being sick? No. She'd had enough of that. What she wanted was to take a delicious flower bath to ease her stress—or simply rest for six hours surrounded by candlelight.
Better yet! She should do all of that together! Of course... as soon as she found a bathtub large enough for her, along with the candles and flowers she liked.
All those things which, in this strange world, were out of reach.
"Ughhh..." groaned Rarity inside her suit, her thoughts spiraling downward at the same rate as her head.
At that moment, a strange sensation crawled down her spine, pulling her out of her thoughts.
It was as if someone were watching her.
Turning her head to the side, her eyes met Pinkie's sack of flour lying on the floor. Upon closer look, it had stains of cream on one side, giving the uncanny impression of a living creature that had just eaten a cake.
Puzzled, Rarity tilted her head. But almost immediately, she lost interest and sighed.
"I wish you knew how lost I feel," Rarity whispered to herself. Or maybe to the sack of flour beside her. She didn't care anymore.
"Oui, but of course I understand, madame," answered a voice from nowhere.
Startled, Rarity lifted her head, looking around nervously.
In the next room, Pinkie Pie, humming and giggling, was washing pots and pans with a smile on her face.
[---]
"Crack, crack, crack…"
Faint creaks echoed through the gloomy cardboard forest.
A massive, feral figure took its first steps upon that toy-made world. Its silhouette, difficult to distinguish among the towering artificial trees, moved slowly, watching every step and hiding its tracks. That behavior betrayed not only intelligence but also a desperate need to remain unseen.
It had to be careful. This time, the beast was determined not to give its prey the slightest chance to escape.
Pausing atop the trunk of a fallen tree, the beast studied its surroundings with meticulous attention.
"Grrr…" it growled, tasting the flavor of a fruit that had fallen from one of the trees.
It was plastic.
Disgusted, the beast threw the fruit aside. But the moment the fake fruit touched the ground, a sudden pain shot through her as if an invisible blow had struck her stomach.
Hunched over, almost convulsing, the beast whispered through clenched teeth, "It hurts, it hurts…"
A searing burn exploded within her, paralyzing her body, clouding her mind. Her claws clutched her belly in an instinctive reflex, her jaw tightening with fierce restraint.
She didn't whimper or shed a tear, but the tension on her face seemed to carve marks into her skin.
She remained that way for several minutes until, finally, the pain subsided enough for her to catch her breath and think clearly again.
"I must hurry, I must hurry…" she thought repeatedly. Her hunger was still under control—for now. Yet it was clear that keeping "that" inside her was becoming impossible.
"If I don't find food soon, I…" She shook her massive head. There was no time to think about basic needs; the mission was all that mattered.
Even with "that" burning inside her, the beast fixed her gaze on the nearest rise of terrain.
Hidden among the thick trees, it looked like a hill.
Confirming her suspicion, she found a fallen sign that read: "AutumnBreeze Hill," accompanied by a drawing of a windmill on one side.
That direction was all she needed. Despite the pain tormenting her, the beast resumed her march—this time with renewed urgency.
Her silhouette vanished into the artificial foliage, leaving behind only the faint echo of her fading steps.
[---]
In the middle of a clearing in the forest, Applejack twitched her ears, trying to catch the faint sound drifting through the air.
"Do you hear something…?" Fluttershy whispered beside her.
"No… not sure," Applejack replied, turning her head side to side to focus her hearing.
After several turns, she gave up and looked at her friend.
"I think it was nothing…"
Both had frozen in place, startled by a strange noise that interrupted their path toward meeting Rainbow Dash. Neither was sure what it had been—too brief and distant to identify—but enough to put them on alert.
Absolute silence had been the ponies' loyal companion throughout the journey, but now, in its absence, something else filled the air.
Uncertainty.
"Ummm… do you think there are timberwolves in this cardboard forest…?" Fluttershy asked, her voice trembling as her eyes darted among the surrounding trees.
"No… I don't think so…" Applejack answered, though she didn't sound very convinced. "We haven't seen any so far… and if there were, they'd probably be Paperwolves."
"Paperwolves?!" Fluttershy squeaked, even more alarmed.
"It's just a guess!" Applejack rushed to clarify, realizing her mistake. "No need to panic. There's no such thing as Paperwolves… I've never seen one. At least… not in our world."
Still, she cast a wary glance into the forest.
"Can I put the suit back on, Applejack?" Fluttershy asked in a small voice, feeling increasingly defenseless.
"Yup… that's probably best," her friend confirmed.
After adjusting Fluttershy's suit and checking the map one more time, the two ponies resumed their march, venturing once again into the unsettling cardboard forest.
[---]
To the north of the toy world, on the opposite end from where Applejack and Fluttershy had found Rainbow Dash's shelter, stretched a vast and dense forest made of cardboard trees.
Unlike the groves they had crossed before, this forest stood out for the height of its trunks and the thickness of its artificial undergrowth. It was much darker, with an oppressive air—a distorted copy of the Everfree Forest, with geography that strayed far from that of their original world.
Among new locations and others that seemed unfamiliar, Applejack and Fluttershy had faced more than one obstacle on their way. It was an area yet to be fully explored, and if not for the map carried by the pegasus, they surely would have gotten lost long before reaching their destination.
A destination that, now, they were only steps away from reaching.
"Phew… what a detour. We finally made it!" Applejack announced, stopping to wipe the sweat from her brow. She wasn't carrying any luggage, but the hurried journey had worn her out more than expected.
Behind her, encased in her latex suit, Fluttershy caught up, still not lifting her eyes from the map.
"Yes… this must be the cardboard house Rainbow mentioned," said the pegasus, pointing to a strange structure that seemed to rise out of the ground. Just a few steps ahead stood a cardboard house—its size and shape familiar, though devoid of any decoration—embedded in the middle of the dense woods. "And that one over there must be the tree with the blue balls…"
"And the pink slides…" Applejack added, her gaze lost among the strange constructions that defied common sense by existing in the middle of nowhere. "Then Rainbow Dash must be…"
"In that direction!" Fluttershy exclaimed, pointing toward a sector of the forest where the light seemed to vanish and the vegetation—a mix of plastic and cardboard—grew denser, forming a natural wall.
The timid pegasus swallowed hard. Applejack, for her part, lifted her eyes as if to complain to the heavens.
"What a place Rainbow Dash picked to get herself in trouble," muttered the farm pony. "Let's finish this…"
With no desire to delay further, they pressed on. Making an extra effort, they advanced through intervals between the strange obstacles blocking their new path.
Little by little, the already scarce light around them began to fade even more.
As expected, it didn't take long before they were shrouded in a mantle of shadows. Fluttershy had no choice but to activate the flashlight built into her suit. With the dim path lit ahead and Applejack by her side, the two friends continued until they finally reached an open, unfamiliar space.
"This is new…" said Applejack, surprised by what the light revealed.
The forest, monotonous until then with its repetitive branches and bushes, transformed into something far more realistic and varied. But above all… eerie.
Twisted sprouts of trees jutted from the ground like claws. The artificial grass had given way to solid rock covered in dry leaves and spiny weeds. The trunks surrounding them were thicker than any they had ever seen, and when the ponies looked up, they could see huge nets overlapping the sky like black cobwebs, completely blocking the outer light.
The place—radiating the disturbing sensation of being possessed by something dark—was, without doubt, the heart of the false Everfree Forest.
Moving cautiously, with the beam of the flashlight swaying side to side, they began to uncover more surprises around them.
"What is all this?" Applejack exclaimed, being the first to notice.
Out of place with the environment, enormous toy cars—resembling bumper cars from a fairground—were scattered across the area. They were metallic, of sophisticated design, resembling small space capsules. They looked newly made, yet someone had abandoned them there for no apparent reason.
The ponies nearly stopped in their tracks, fascinated by the sight.
"Look!" Fluttershy suddenly cried, pointing to one of the capsules.
Applejack turned toward the vehicle and understood immediately; both rushed toward it.
It was similar to the others, though with more colorful tones and an eye-catching design. Nothing remarkable on its exterior—except for the enormous hole shattered through the glass at the front.
"What happened here?" Applejack exclaimed in shock, circling the damaged vehicle and trying to deduce what had happened to it—and, more importantly, to its possible occupant.
For Fluttershy, the answer was on the ground.
With trembling movement—enough to make Applejack freeze—the pegasus lifted something.
"Paperwolves?" she cried in terror, showing long strips of thin paper mixed with shards of pulverized glass and a few sky-blue feathers.
A shiver ran down Applejack's spine; her heart seemed to stop. Her mind, which until that moment had refused to imagine the worst, was suddenly filled with dark images of violent paper wolves attacking a cornered Rainbow Dash.
"No!" she screamed inside, though only a faint whisper of denial escaped her lips.
"No… it can't be…"
For an instant, with hearts pounding in their chests, both ponies stared at each other, stunned.
But before they could react, a loud noise—like an explosion—shook the air, followed by a deep and steady hiss.
Both turned, terrified, toward the source of the sound.
Not far away, a small red shed stood amid the darkness.
The noise came from inside, repeating itself in a chilling echo.
Paralyzed, they didn't know how to react to such a clear, mechanical sound.
Then another, softer rumble broke their trance—like water swirling in a tank before spilling down a waterfall.
The sound was too familiar to be mistaken. Reality returned to their minds, easing their initial alarm.
And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the door of the shed opened, releasing a faint cloud of steam and a sharp smell before revealing a refreshed and free Rainbow Dash.
"Ahhh… finally…" the pegasus exclaimed in a satisfied tone, stretching her wings as she wiped her face with a towel.
Applejack and Fluttershy stood frozen, staring silently for a long moment until the pegasus finally noticed their presence.
"Well, look who's here at last! About time, slowpokes! What took you so long?"
The two friends looked at each other. What could they possibly say after all that?
"Uhhmm…" Fluttershy spoke first. "The road was… kind of difficult… umm… here's your toolbox… though, uh… I guess you won't be needing it anymore."
"Nope, not anymore. And thanks," said Rainbow Dash curtly, grabbing the box and glancing inside—it was filled with toilet paper and other random supplies.
"So…" said Applejack, regaining her breath all at once. "Hmm… that's it, then?"
"Yeah, that's it," her friend replied with a shrug. "But if you want to see the face of pure evil, you can step inside there…" she finished, gesturing with her wing toward the red shed.
Applejack didn't answer.
"So…" Fluttershy asked timidly, "Are you feeling better now?"
"Like new!" Rainbow Dash replied, utterly carefree, walking forward with a grin—just as the sound of her stomach rumbling echoed. "…And hungry! Let's go meet the others. It's Rarity's turn to cook today, right?"
"Yes, that's right… Pinkie's helping her," answered Fluttershy as she followed her friend.
"Really?! Wait… Pinkie? That reminds me…" Rainbow Dash tilted her head thoughtfully, cracking her neck. As she turned, she noticed her other friend wasn't following.
"Applejack! What are you doing back there? You coming or what?"
Applejack, who had remained behind staring fixedly at the red shed—the same one with a small glowing sign that read bathroom on one side—slowly turned her head, almost mechanically, to look at her companion.
"Yeah… I'm coming," she answered, startled, as if waking from her thoughts.
Moments later, after catching up to them, the trio of friends left that mysterious place behind, once again swallowed by darkness and silence.
[---]
The return path of the three friends was as pleasant as it could be. Rainbow Dash led the way, followed by Applejack and Fluttershy. Questions for the pegasus flew back and forth with every step.
"So… in short… you got yourself trapped in one of those capsules while exploring the place?" Applejack asked.
"Yeah, it was pretty dumb of me… I wasn't feeling too good at the time. Luckily, I had the communicator to call you, though that didn't end up helping much either."
"And the broken glass on the capsule?" Fluttershy asked.
"That was me. You two took forever, and I got desperate… honestly, I'm amazed at my own strength! Hahaha!" the pegasus replied cheerfully.
"And your digestion too…" Applejack muttered under her breath.
"Hey, look—a clearing!" Rainbow Dash interrupted, fluttering ahead toward the open space that appeared in the middle of the cardboard forest.
With the bright light of the outside shining on their faces, the ponies squinted as they stepped forward and finally stopped. After spending so much time in darkness, their eyes had grown unaccustomed to the brightness.
When their sight adjusted, they could take in the small landscape spreading before them.
It was a clearing of artificial grass, covered with colorful flowers of various sizes. Everything was plastic, but it looked far more vivid and pleasant than the place they had just left.
[["How beautiful!"]] said Fluttershy, her voice suddenly distorted.
"Whoa! What was that?" Rainbow exclaimed from above, startled by her friend's robotic tone.
"Oops… sorry. The suit resets every time I put the helmet back on," Fluttershy explained, adjusting the latex gear. She had taken it off shortly after finding Rainbow Dash but had put it back on because of the changing light.
"Okay… got it," said Rainbow, descending a bit to inspect her friend's outfit closely. "I probably should've asked earlier, but… why are you wearing that thing, anyway?"
"Ahh… something that happened this morning. It's a long story…"
"Oh yeah? Guess that makes two of us."
"Well, we can save it for later," Applejack cut in. "It's getting late—Rarity and Pinkie must be worried sick about us."
"You're right," Rainbow replied, patting her empty stomach. "Wait! There's something I need before we head back."
With a flap of her wings, the pegasus flew toward one edge of the clearing, where a kind of pink mailbox stood on a tall post, with a lever on one side. Without hesitation, she pulled the lever hard, then began kicking the box repeatedly, as if expecting the contraption to react.
"Come on! Come on!" she yelled, continuing to kick the mailbox, getting no response.
Perplexed by their friend's behavior, Applejack and Fluttershy approached.
"Rainbow? What are you doing?" Applejack asked.
"Huh? Nothing… just waiting for this thing to work," Rainbow Dash replied, sounding frustrated.
"You mean… that mailbox?" Fluttershy asked softly.
"Yeah… well, no—it's a candy machine! Or something like that. Come on!" said Rainbow Dash, not stopping. "I discovered it yesterday. If you pull the lever and kick it enough times, it starts making candies from inside!"
The other two looked at each other.
"It makes them? Just like that?" Applejack asked, incredulous.
"Yup. I don't get it either, but it does," replied Rainbow Dash, giving the box another determined kick from a different angle.
Applejack scratched her head. Rainbow's discovery was definitely something new and worth investigating—but not now.
"Rainbow… I get that you want something sweet, but maybe you should leave it alone. We've got plenty of sweets back at the treehouse…"
"In the fake treehouse!" Rainbow corrected without missing a beat.
"Fine, in Twilight's fake treehouse," Applejack said, rolling her eyes. "But really—it's getting late…"
"I know, Applejack… but I really need them. I mean, Pinkie's going to need them."
"Pinkie?" Fluttershy asked.
"Yeah. Haven't you noticed? She's been acting weird lately. I've caught her a few times talking to her inanimate friends in secret."
"Oh, no…" Fluttershy gasped, startled.
"I didn't know that," added Applejack, equally shocked.
"Yeah… I think it's because she hasn't had any sugar. It messes her up."
"Sugar? Wait, we have plenty of honey in the stores."
"Honey isn't the same as sugar, Applejack. It's got more artificial stuff—and it's less digestible," Rainbow replied with a guilty look, trying not to recall what had happened earlier that morning. Then she kicked the mailbox even harder. "Fluttershy, can you help me? Maybe if you hold it from the bottom it'll work."
"Uhmm… okay," answered the timid pegasus, crouching down to support the box from below.
Watching her two friends busy with this unexpected challenge, Applejack fell silent.
How many things had she been missing? Her friends had been acting this way behind her back, even though they met and talked every day. She understood that everyone had a right to privacy—they weren't fillies anymore—but given the situation they were in, and the closeness of their bond, shouldn't they be more transparent with each other?
Applejack shook her head, trying to adjust the hat she wasn't wearing.
"Twilight…" she murmured, picturing the silhouette of her absent friend. "I think I'm starting to understand you better now…" she said to herself, recalling a heated conversation they'd once had on a similar subject.
"Running a nation isn't the same as running a farm," she remembered. Of course, she wasn't in that kind of position—but the feeling of similarity was undeniable.
Lost in thought, her gaze drifted toward the cardboard forest. It wandered across the scenery until it fixed on a bright orange windmill atop the nearest hill.
"Ah… is that AutumnBreeze Hill?" she murmured.
Of all the structures in that toy world, the AutumnBreeze windmill was the most recognizable. Not for its size or shape, but because it was identical to the one in Ponyville. For Applejack, it was the perfect landmark to get her bearings in this strange land.
After a sigh, her eyes followed the hill's slope downward, to its base—completely shadowed, full of cardboard trees, thick bushes, faint mist, and scattered constructions.
Applejack's inner calm snapped abruptly.
"Mist?" Her eyes widened, focusing on a particular spot among the trees.
No, her eyes weren't deceiving her. Not far away, deep within the forest, a thin white trail was rising into the sky from a point that looked like a crack in the ground.
No, it wasn't mist. Could it be smoke?
"PAFFF!"
Just as she was about to speak up about her discovery, a sharp metallic sound—like a bell being struck—startled her from behind, followed by a high-pitched hiss.
Turning around, Applejack saw Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy recoil in surprise at what appeared to be the overwhelming success of the pegasus's plan.
Forgetting the smoke completely, the earth pony jumped back too.
A torrent of candies burst out of the pink mailbox, as if a pipe had suddenly exploded. Candies of every imaginable color and shape poured out in a steady flow toward the center of the clearing.
Her friends caught as many as they could midair, stuffing them into their pockets as fast as possible.
"Oh, yeah!" shouted an ecstatic Rainbow Dash, taking flight and tossing one into her mouth without a thought.
"There are even blackberry ones…" Fluttershy added softly, tasting the candy through her helmet.
"Wow…" Applejack murmured, still stunned. She took a few steps back, silently watching as the growing mountain of candies piled up on the ground.
One piece rolled all the way to her front hooves. She picked it up almost without thinking and brought it to her mouth.
Sweet. Truly sweet. Its shell was crisp, its core soft and smooth, melting on her tongue. But more important than all of that was the flavor it carried…
"It tastes like apple!" she exclaimed with an excited smile. Applejack could never forget that flavor; she hadn't tasted it once during all her time in this toy world—and now, at last, it had returned to her lips.
Her eyes fixed on the ground, eagerly following each candy that rolled toward her.
"This is real sugar, huh, Applejack?" Rainbow Dash teased, watching her friend—who had thrown herself to the ground—devour the candies with desperate delight. She looked almost like a starving animal drinking from a lake, oblivious to everything around her.
Fluttershy began to laugh at the sight, and Rainbow Dash joined in.
The trio of friends was enjoying a cheerful, carefree moment.
Perhaps that was why, being so distracted, none of them noticed what happened next…
[---]
Faster than a runaway train, a shadow tore through the clearing from end to end in barely a blink.
When it vanished, the field of flowers—now flooded with candies—was empty.
Not a trace of the ponies who had been there just moments ago.
Only the pink mailbox remained standing, silent witness to it all, still spitting out its endless cascade of multicolored sweets.
[---]
"Ahhh… my head…" Applejack murmured, regaining consciousness.
Her body felt like a wreck, and an uncomfortable sensation of being bound crept across her skin.
Her senses gradually cleared, making her aware of her predicament.
She was hanging upside down inside a massive mesh sack, suspended in the air within a spacious, dimly lit room.
Her position resembled that of a fruit hanging to ripen in a store.
"What… what happened?" she gasped desperately, trying to break free.
"Applejack… we've got a problem." The voice—instantly recognizable—came from her side.
Turning her head, Applejack found Rainbow Dash, also trapped in another mesh sack. The pegasus frowned deeply, her wings bristling in anger.
"What the—?!" Applejack exclaimed, twisting the other way to see Fluttershy, still wearing her suit, also ensnared.
"She's still unconscious," murmured Rainbow Dash gravely.
"What… what happened?!" Applejack repeated, her voice rising in panic.
"Ask him," Rainbow Dash said, pointing downward with her head.
Applejack looked down.
Below them, a dark mass slowly stirred, as though waking from a heavy slumber. It began to rise, taking shape until it stood upright.
Its height was such that its head reached the same level where the three ponies hung.
The creature's eyes opened, glowing with an unnatural brilliance, locking onto Applejack's gaze. Its enormous mouth spread wide, revealing sharp teeth coated in half-chewed candies, dripping to the floor. From that same mouth came a voice so deep it made the walls tremble, its echo spreading beyond the chamber—across all of AutumnBreeze Hill.
"Where is Princess Twilight?" the beast demanded, implacable.