Pam, Pawnee, and Anna walked. They walked across an endless, flat, grey plain. Before them, all was completely featureless. Behind them, a trail of black words that had sprung up from the ground immediately after they walked over it, like footprints. If they looked down at this moment, their most recent footprints would have spelled out, “If they looked down at this moment, their most recent…” You get the idea. Pam was leading the way, walking mechanically, as if her feet were propelling the rest of her body, which was only along for the ride. Anna followed immediately after her, looking straight ahead, he expression grim. Pawnee trailed behind; she was the only one of the girls who seemed at all tired, the only one of the girls who looked unsure of herself, the only one of the girls who even tried to read the winding ribbon of text etched on the landscape that indicated where they had come from, and, just maybe, indicated where they might go. Without warning, Pam stopped. “We’re here,” she said. “And where is ‘here’?” Pawnee asked, catching her breath. “The penultimate page of the book,” Anna answered. “The book that Acorn took from Dirk and carried to the highest level of Mount Purgatory. To Terrestrial Paradise. In other words, the Garden of Eden.” “So… we’re inside another copy of the book we’ve always been inside, while simultaneously being in the place that this secondary book is located?” Pam said incredulously. “Just try not to think about it too much,” Anna said. “Besides, by this point, pretty much all boundaries have crumbled. Including the boundaries of the concept of ‘boundary’ itself. Everything’s more or less a stew of ideas and concepts at this point. A primeval soup.” “Don’t you mean ‘primordial’?” Pam asked. “No.” Pawnee took a few steps forward and looked around. “How do I do this?” she asked Anna. “Pam will point the way,” Anna explained, “and then you’ll make the journey to the final page. When you arrive there, you’ll see two apples. The one higher up will be small and bitter. That one is the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. We, as we are now, were forced to eat thereof, and so we shalt surely die. The apple growing below it is far larger, and far sweeter. This is the fruit of the tree of life. If we had eaten thereof instead, we would have lived forever, and been eternally innocent. And eternally ignorant. “We should have been able to make the initial choice ourselves. But the serpent forced our hands; he didn’t tempt us, we were compelled by his claim of authority. And once we ate and became as one of him, to know good and evil, he blocked the way so we could not return. He hid the garden behind a grey wall, covered in words, each one of them a sword of orange flame. “But if Acorn and his group were successful, that wall has been torn down, and the garden is unprotected. Both apples have been restored to their unbitten state. Pawnee, you — and only you — may reenter the garden. And then you may make the choice that we were denied. The choice between these two fruits, from the trees that are simultaneously in the center of the garden, and outside it entirely. Just as you are simultaneously part of both of the potential realities contained in this book, and of neither. “If you eat from the small one, the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, then all of this will happen again, exactly as it did to us. But eat from the large one, the fruit of life, and the book will be reset, scraped, re-sanded. But in the process, we will very likely sacrifice ourselves. It’s not an easy choice, Pawnee. Either way, people will be hurt. But we’ve all agreed that innocence is the better option. So make the right choice, Pawnee.” “No,” Pam said, taking a step towards Pawnee. She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Just make your choice.” Pawnee smiled and nodded. Pam pointed in the direction of the next page. Pawnee nodded again, looked as if she was about to say something, but then turned away and headed off. Pam and Anna stood there silently, watching her leave. Eventually, Anna reached out her hand to Pam, who hesitated for a moment, then took it. She looked into Anna’s eyes — there was no need for words. They both knew. Suddenly, Anna whipped her head around, looking in the direction they’d come from. “Did you hear…” she said to Pam, who shrugged. “No,” Anna said with a sigh, “it couldn’t be. Just wishful thinking.” She looked back to Pam and chuckled. “I thought that I heard hoofbeats.” “It’s not impossible,” Pam said. “Like you said, everything’s blending together now. Wouldn’t a last-minute reunion of a girl and her pony be a perfect note to end on?” “It would,” Anna said quietly. “It would…” “Wait,” said Pam, cupping a hand to her ear, “I think I hear it too. Hoofbeats. Heading this way. I think that it could be…” Anna released Pam’s hand and began to sprint back down the trail of words. There were tears in her eyes. “Are you out there?” she shouted. “Did you find me again? Is it you, Acor— And that’s when Pawnee made her choice. #DetectivePony