>Be you
>Average guy, average life for the most part.
>Kind of unremarkable in general, actually.
>Try not to think about it, get depressed otherwise.
>Besides, that's not important right now. You just got to work.
>Where do you work?
>Data center. Night shift.
>It's not the most exciting thing in the universe, but it pays well and you get to fuck off on your laptop most nights instead of doing any real work.
>Find your usual spot in the empty parking lot behind the building. Park right beside the day shift guy's little shitbox.
>You drive a shitbox pickup too, but it's yours and you like it. Had it since high school.
>Spend a couple of minutes fighting with the shitty app you have to use for your timecard before clocking in, about fifteen minutes early. This late in the year the sun is already about to set, got to enjoy watching the pretty sky on the way in.
>Grab your backpack and make your way inside, get to the office practically on autopilot. You pass through the data center floor rather than the creepy event space up front - it's always a ghost town when you come through and all the lights are off.
>The day shift guy smiles when you pass by the windows. He looks exhausted.
>Finally badge into the office, swing the door open, and beeline for your usual desk. The office is really just a glorified closet, with space enough for three desks with two monitors each. Other than that, the back wall is covered in cheap TVs - most of which are serving as security camera monitors, but one is dedicated to the weather channel.
>"Howdy," your coworker greets you. His name's Tyler. "Roads not too bad?"
>It's the same greeting he always gives you. It's comfortably familiar.
"Yeah, traffic wasn't too bad. Pretty typical for a Friday night."
>It's the same answer you always give him, except for changing out the day of the week.
>The two of you barely speak to each other, but you feel like you could consider him a friend.
>Not many of those.
>There's that depressing thought again.
>While you get settled at your desk and log into the eight thousand programs you need for work, Tyler fills you in on what happened that day.
>Today was busy, by the sounds of things. New customer moving their equipment into a cage, electricians on the roof fixing that A/C unit that had been busted for a month, blah, blah, blah...
>The most important thing, though, today was catering day.
>Every other week, corporate actually goes out of its way to have food delivered to the office. Everybody knows it's little more than a bribe to try and make people come back from remote work more willingly, but they take it anyway.
>What moron says no to free food?
>Sometimes there are leftovers for night shift, sometimes there aren't.
>You can't help but smile when Tyler informs you that tonight, you are lucky. Sure, Tyler says it's just an assortment of fruit instead of anything substantial like the barbecue they got last time, but it's something. It'll go nicely with the microwave meal you have waiting in the breakroom fridge.
>At five minutes to seven, Tyler takes his leave. He hits you with the same joke he always does, telling you not to work too hard. You chuckle like you always do.
>And then you're all alone. You watch on the security camera displays on the wall as Tyler pulls out of the parking lot, and it's only after he's gone that you finally take a real look at the ticket queue. As expected, it's mostly empty. All that's on the docket for tonight is installing a set of power strips in one of those new cabinets, and that shouldn't take more than twenty minutes.
>You aren't in a rush, though. You've got twelve hours here.
>So what do you do instead of jumping into your work?
>The same thing we try to do every night, Pinky. Try not to lose your mind with boredom.

***

>The first few hours of your shift pass uneventfully. You spend most of them sitting at your desk, hopping between a few youtube channels you like on your laptop whilst only occasionally checking the ticket queue.
>As per usual, it hasn't budged.
>When ten o'clock rolls around, however, you know what's coming. Time to go do rounds.
>It was part of your nightly routine, going around and checking every piece of equipment that ensured the building ran smoothly.
>Pumps for the waterloop, generators and batteries for backup power in case the utility line went down, air handling units to help keep the data center cool...
>Boring shit, even on the off chance there WAS a problem. Still, gotta do it.
>You promptly get to your feet and find your earbuds, popping one into your right ear and finding some music to listen to while you go about your business.
>Hm...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpzxuajEES0
>Yeah, that sounds good.
>You start with the data center itself, going around the perimeter of the large, square room and checking off each and every device on the stupid app you're forced to use. Everything looks good so far, and with your music blaring in your ear, you can tune out the annoyingly loud whooshing noise of a million fans going at once all around you.
>In ten minutes or so, you've finished up the first room. Now for the generator yard...
>On your way to the back door, you spot something that used to grab your attention. There's the door itself, obviously, but that isn't what's interesting. Right beside it is an identical (almost) door that's about half the height. It has a modified pushbar instead of a traditional handle, and the automatic-closer-arm-thingy on top is far weaker than the one on the regular door.
>You can't help but shake your head at it.
>A few years ago, there had been a whole thing with a portal opening to some strange alternate dimension or some shit. You never paid that much attention to it - it was kind of like most other scientific discoveries. It didn't directly affect you, so you didn't care.
>Anyway, the portal opened in the middle of NYC. As if that wasn't weird enough, these little colorful horses were waiting on the other side and just couldn't resist coming through in droves to meet people.
>Things were exciting there for a few months. Nobody knew how to handle it, but it was proof that there was life out there. For a while, it was the only thing anybody could talk about, even when none of the little horses had shown up in your city.
>Around the time you were starting to get sick of hearing about it, something happened. You can't recall all the details, but it had something to do with a murder - and not what you'd been expecting.
>As it turns out, the fancy magic you'd been seeing so many videos of was also a dangerous weapon.
>After that, things got rough. There were all sorts of meetings between leaders, most of them behind closed doors, and lots of people freaking out more than they probably should've.
>Some people were actually worried about a fucking race war between people and little colorful ponies.
>Of course, that didn't happen.
>Instead, the ponies just cut ties. They were outlawed on this side of the portal and once they were sure they'd rounded up all of their kind, they hopped back through and shut the door behind themselves. You pretty much quit following the issue after that, but you'd still overheard the occasional story of a pony coming out of hiding and having to be sent back.
>Usually with lots of drama.
>What were you doing again?
>Oh yeah.
>You finish your walk to the back door, sparing one more glance at the little pony door, and step outside. The CEO of your company had jumped the gun on one of those "pony accessibility" laws that were being tossed around in Congress and had a few of them installed ahead of time. Of course, less than a year afterward, the little buggers were sent packing, and all of it was a waste.
>Oh well.
>You step outside into a bright, moonlit night. It's a full moon, and there's hardly a cloud in the sky to obstruct it. The big silver disc shines down on you from between two skyscrapers, still on its way to its peak in a few hours, and a shiver runs up your spine when a cool gust of wind blows through.
>The city is oddly quiet at night, save for the distant rumble of engines and the hum of machinery.
>You get started at the upper end, opening the enclosure for the first generator. There are five in total, and each one has a little metal box around it to protect it from the elements. It's just about big enough for two or three people to stand inside comfortably, and a light switch controls a lone lamp on the ceiling.
>Compared to all the shit inside, checking up on the generators is a bit more involved. You have to check the fuel gauge, the breaker box, the diagnostics screen, and the temperature of the block itself. You've got it down to a routine at this point, though, and could do it with your eyes closed. Except for the reading gauges part.
>Generators one, two, three, and four all go off without a hitch.
>When you get to five, though...
>As soon as you open the door, something feels off.
>You don't know what, or why, but it does. You flip on the lights and step inside, letting the heavy metal door swing shut behind you with a thump.
>That's when you hear something else.
>Something skitters in the back, hidden behind the massive engine block. You're not sure if it was your music skipping or if you really heard it.
>You pause for an uncomfortably long time, standing there by the door like an idiot with your eyes narrowed.
>You've heard of animals getting into these enclosures in the past, usually raccoons or squirrels.
>Or that one time Tyler joked about a homeless guy sleeping in one in the winter...
>Please don't be a homeless guy.
>You take a hesitant step forward, glancing around for anything you might be able to use to defend yourself.
>Just in case.
>Of course, there aren't any convenient weapons left lying around inside a generator housing. It's just you, your phone, and...
>Oh, hey! Your pocket knife you never use!
>You reach down, your hand hovering over the tool clipped to your jeans pocket. A two-inch blade isn't exactly a fearsome weapon, but it's all you've got.
>Still, probably best to try and be diplomatic first.
"Anybody there? I don't want any trouble."
>Your voice sounds more terrified than you'd intended to let on. No saving it now.
"I'm gonna come in now, alright?"
>Nobody responds, but you hear another shuffle in the back. That actually gets you to let out a sigh of relief.
>Probably just a raccoon.
>Slowly making your way around the generator's front end, you poke your head down the other side of the enclosure and look down. You're fully expecting to see a little black and grey lump of trash panda somewhere over there. Worst-case scenario, it's got babies with it.
>Instead, your soul just about leaves your body.
>In the span of an instant, several things happen. You see a black-ish purple lump on the floor, you gasp in surprise, and the aforementioned lump launches itself at your face at approximately 5% the speed of fucking light.
>It has good aim, too.
>The creature latches onto your head and completely blocks out your vision, and thankfully also muffles the girly scream you make as you stumble back and hit your head on the steel wall behind you.
>The thing hisses and bats at your head ineffectually with blunt, clawless appendages.
>It doesn't really hurt, at least not compared to the throbbing in the back of your skull, but you're losing your shit anyway.
>Flail your arms until you get ahold of something fuzzy, latch on with all your strength and try to pull the fucker off your head.
>It squirms out of your grip once or twice, but you finally manage to get a grip and pull it back.
>When you do, you can hardly believe your eyes.
>Clenched tightly in your hands is a little horse, squirming and writhing and hissing like it has rabies or something.
>Fuck, did anybody ever report those things being able to get rabies?
>Probably not.
>"Let me go, you piece of shit! I'll bite your fucking head off!"
>Oh, hey, she can talk.
"Like hell I will! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
>She just hisses at you again, and-
>Holy shit, those are big teeth.
>She's got two huge fangs up front, almost like a vampire.
>Thank God she didn't sink those into you before you could pull her off.
>You also finally notice what she used to propel herself at you like a mare-shaped missile, the two leathery wings still flapping at her sides. She can't get enough lift to fly out of your grip in the confined space, but she's trying like hell.
>"I said let me go!"
>She shrieks again, startling you back to the present.
>Right, probably can't hold onto her forever.
>Somebody walking by outside might think you're holding down a person and call the cops or something.
"Alright!" You shout back, grabbing her attention. "Alright, I'll let you go! But stay put, okay? No fuckin' facehugger moves like what you just pulled!"
>This actually seems to get through to her. She glares at you, but slowly goes still.
>"Fine. Put me down."
>Here goes nothing.
>You slowly, VERY slowly, ease her down to the floor. You're sitting between her and the door, so she can't escape without going through you anyway, and you're praying that she isn't about to try.
>Thankfully, someone is watching over you.
>The strange pony goes to the floor and sits, glaring up at you with big blue eyes.
"Okay... are we chill?"
>"No!"
>Okay, stupid question.
"Thanks for not eating my face, at least."
>You slump back and rub the back of your head. That bump really fuckin' smarts.
>In the meantime, take a better look at the pony sitting in front of you.
>She's short, maybe about four feet tall if she were standing. Dark purple fur. Silvery grey mane. Blue eyes, like you already noticed.
>"Are you just gonna keep staring at me? What do you want?"
>Good question. You: 0, weird pony: 1
"Uh... what are you doing in here?"
>"I was looking around," she answers quickly. Too quickly.
>You narrow your eyes.
"Exploring? Inside a generator housing? One that you'd have had to break into in the middle of the night?"
>She looks nervous now, some of that fire in her eyes fizzling out already.
>A long moment passes in silence.
>"Okay, fine."
>You: 1, weird pony: 1
>"I was... er, resting, in here. You know, since it's warm?"
>You'll give her that one. The block heater keeps it nice and toasty, and the temperatures are starting to drop quite a bit at night.
"Alright... but isn't there, like, ANYWHERE else you could go?"
>The pony just stares at you like you're a fucking moron.
>It clicks a second later.
>Ugh. You: 1, weird pony: 2
"Right, probably not. What am I supposed to tell my boss? You guys aren't exactly welcome as far as the feds are concerned."
>"You ain't a snitch, are you?"
"Nope."
>Even if you were, those pointy teeth were surprisingly persuasive.
>"Then it sounds like you don't have to tell him anything."
>Her logic seems sound, but you can't let it go that easily.
"But what about tomorrow? I'm not the only guy that works here, and one of the pricks on day shift will probably rat you out."
>The mare ponders that for a moment, then sighs.
>"I'll just be gone by morning. Not my first time doing this, in case you haven't figured that out."
>Right.
"Right. But still, like... doesn't this kinda suck? Hiding out in some shitty metal box for a bit of warmth? What're you gonna do when winter rolls in for real?"
>The mare hesitates to answer again. She stares at you, then looks down at the floor.
>You wait, opting to give her some space instead of pressing her.
>Anything to keep those fangs away.
>"I dunno."
>At least she's honest.
"Great plan. Look- why don't we go inside? It's chilly out here, and somebody walking by outside the fence might hear us."
>She looks VERY hesitant to trust you, at least until you bring up the possibility of being discovered.
>Makes sense. She's literally a fugitive.
>"...Fine. But you keep your damn phone in your pocket, no cops."
>Sheesh. It's like she's a methhead instead of just an illegal alien.
>Then again, with the way things are, illegal aliens might get treated worse.
>Anyway.
"Yeah, yeah, no cops. I said I wasn't a snitch, remember?"
>"You did, and that's what you'd say either way. I'm not trusting you yet just because you didn't immediately rat on me."
>You don't bother to respond to that one, slowly getting back to your feet. You're a little dizzy at first, and your head still aches, but it's passed for the most part.
>You open the generator housing back up and step outside. The nighttime air feels especially cold compared to the toasty interior, but you're used to it. Besides, you're dressed for the weather with a hoodie.
>The little pony, meanwhile, is not.
>She follows you at a healthy distance, and it isn't ten seconds before she starts shivering.
>You glance back at her and frown when you notice, but you don't dare bring it up. She doesn't seem like she'd appreciate it.
>Instead, you just pick up the pace.
>It's a short walk to the back door, and once you've swiped your badge and entered your code you hold it open for her.
>"Uh, thanks, by the way," she mutters as she trots past you.
"Don't thank me yet, I'm still not sure what to do with you."
>She glares at you over her shoulder, but you just shrug. It's the truth.
>You guide the little mare back to your office, across the noisy data center floor and through a couple of short hallways.
>She's looking around warily all the while, but she seems to realize that you wouldn't be inviting her inside if there was anybody else around.
>As soon as the office door swings shut behind her, she plants her hooves and refuses to move another step. Now she's the one blocking you in a confined space.
>"Alright, now talk. What do you want from me? I don't have any money to bribe you to keep quiet."
>You turn around, stopped halfway to sitting down in your chair again.
>Stare at the mare for a long moment, and she stares right back.
>Come to think of it, you really don't know why you're doing this.
>It sort of just felt like what you ought to do.
>Before you can put together a response, her patience begins to run out.
>"Well? Your fuckin' tongue fall off on the way over here?"
>She takes a half step forward, trying to look intimidating.
>The look is sort of diminished by her height - or lack thereof.
>You also notice, now that you're staring at her face, that she has slitted pupils. They're kind of cool, in a freaky sort of way.
>You also remember her fangs. Probably best not to keep her waiting any longer.
"I-... er, felt bad?"
>She doesn't say anything, nor does she look convinced, but she isn't immediately jumping your shit.
>Press on.
"You clearly don't have anywhere to go, and it's bad enough being on the streets when you aren't also a literal alien. I know some people would probably turn you in as soon as they saw you, but that doesn't feel right. I'm guessing there's some reason you're so determined to stay on this side of the weird bullshit portal."
>The mare studies you for a long moment, probably looking for any hints of deceit. You were honest as could be, and she doesn't find any.
>Eventually, she just nods.
>"Yeah, something like that. You know you could get in trouble for harboring me, right?"
>You actually didn't know that. Makes sense, though.
"I don't think I'm exactly top of the list for the pony gestapo to chase down," you say, and the mare actually snickers at that.
>Wait, why does *she* know what the gestapo is?
>Best not to think about right now.
"But I guess I'm a criminal, now."
>"How's it feel?"
"Like a fever dream. I've never met one of you before, only ever seen pictures. Except... none like you. What *are* you?"
>The mare rolls her eyes so hard they nearly get traction.
>She sits down near the door, wings fidgeting at her sides, and places a forehoof on her chest.
>"I am a bat pony. Thestral, if you wanna sound like a jackass."
>That explains the weird wings. And the fangs. And the eyes.
"Okay..."
>You aren't sure what else to say, but she thankfully picks up the slack.
>"And my name is Silver Moon."
>Fitting.
>Or you suppose it is, you don't know how pony names work.
>Now she's looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow slowly raising.
>She opens her mouth to say something else when you finally realize what she's waiting on.
"Oh, shit, uh... nice to meet you? My name's Jamie."
>She gives you a weird look when you say your name, and for whatever reason you just can't let it slide.
"What? It's a normal name!"
>Silver rolls her eyes again.
>"Yeah, for you. Human names are always weird as shit. What does Jamie even mean?"
>You: 1, Silver: 3
>This game sucks.
"It doesn't have to mean anything; it's just a name. I could ask you the same thing, what the hell does Silver Moon mean? You're neither of those things!"
>Silver snorts, getting back to her hooves. She ignores your question and walks past you, making a beeline for the desk beside yours. After clambering up into the chair, she leans back and makes a show of continuing to ignore you.
"That's what I thought," you snark, leaning back to frown at her.
>A few moments go by in silence, save for a few taps at the keyboard while you check the ticket queue again.
>Unsurprisingly, nothing new.
>Eventually, Silver breaks the silence.
>"So do you just fuck off in here all night?"
"No. I was doing my rounds when I found you, and that sort of took priority."
>She hums thoughtfully, lazily spinning around in her borrowed chair.
>"You're a shitty criminal. Your boss is gonna notice if you just stop doing your work to babysit me."
"And you're a shitty fugitive. Aren't you supposed to be nice to people who could rat on you?"
>Silver snickers, and you can't help but crack a grin too.
>It certainly isn't how you expected tonight to go, but maybe that's for the better.
>The hard part will be deciding what to do next, assuming she doesn't follow through on what she said earlier and fuck off before sunup.
>Speaking of - or thinking of in this case - you glance at the clock on your computer. Five minutes to eleven.
>Eight hours to go until you're relieved.
>You also realize you never finished your rounds. You found Silver before you could get to the basement portion, with all the backup power and water pump infrastructure.
>You're just about to get up when Silver speaks up again.
>"You got any food around here?"
>God dammit.