Chapter 7: Castles in the Sky

"Woe unto you… hypocrites! For ye are like unto whited sepulchers, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so, ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity." ~Jesus Christ

Sweetie Belle's breath came in ragged gasps as she swung her hind legs backward and forward in a mad attempt to urge her hat-parachute forward. Unfortunately, it did not seem to be going fast enough. The Grief drew closer, and closer, and closer. Sweetie Belle could see the white gate, less than a kilometer away. The gate opened a crack, and Sweetie Belle could see light pouring in. Sweetie Belle sobbed as she continued to mentally will the hat-parachute to speed up.

At the very last moment, Sweetie Belle shot through the gate just as the tsunami of darkness reached out long tendrils to consume her. The gate slammed shut, and the Grief exploded against the obstruction, now locked out.

Sweetie Belle found herself in what seemed to be fluffy white mist. This mist, however, was different from the mists of the Valley of Depression, and different from the mists that filled all the other lands of the MIND. This mist was gentle, slow, and beautiful. It had a calming effect, and Sweetie Belle felt rather safe. As the mist cleared away, Sweetie Belle gasped in appreciation as she laid eyes on the environment stretching out before her.

The land was like a massive, polished, shiny chessboard. Alternating black and white checkered floor tiles stretched out in all directions infinitely. Clouds formed a massive domed ceiling countless kilometers above, and there was no sun in the sky, despite the fact that a soft white light illuminated everything. Sweetie Belle shook her head in surprise. How had something like this, come from what she had previously seen?

At this moment, Sweetie Belle touched down on the polished floor, her four hooves clacking sharply on the tiles. Sweetie Belle hoisted her Zepto-Sword as she flourished her hat. Then she placed the bowler back on her head at a jaunty angle and glanced around. Her keen eyes picked out her surroundings, looking for threats. Once again, to her mighty surprise, she found nothing trying to kill her. It seemed that Grief had not yet preceded her, which was quite curious indeed.

Suddenly the white mists far ahead of her parted slightly, and Sweetie Belle was able to catch a glimpse of what looked to be a castle in the sky.

"That place looks curious," said Sweetie Belle to herself, "I do believe I will investigate."

With that, Sweetie Belle trotted off in the direction she had seen the castle. As she continued to walk, she continued to glance about. Though it was nice to see a land that had not been somehow corrupted, it was rather bleak. In fact, it could have been possible that this silent land of fluffy white could have been corrupted in some way via the fact that it did not appear corrupted.

Sweetie Belle cataloged this observation as she continued to scan her surroundings. As she continued to make her way towards the last place she had seen the strange castle in the sky, the environment remained unchanging. Bleak, white, clouds.

Minutes passed, then hours. Perhaps even a fortnight had somehow been lost in the pool of time as Sweetie Belle stubbornly pushed her way in her direction.

"Am I ever going to draw nearer to this place?" sighed Sweetie Belle, taking a moment to rest. She began to even question ever having seen the castle in the first place. But then, to her surprise, the clouds ahead once more parted, revealing the castle in the sky.

Eyes locked in the direction that the castle had appeared. However, as she dashed towards the area, the clouds parted once more to reveal that she was not drawing close to the location at all. Upon seeing this, Sweetie Belle slowed down and blinked. Not necessarily out of surprise (for she had seen things like this before now in abundance) but more in disappointment. She had been rather keen on visiting the place. But it seemed like she was never getting close her goal.

Sighing, Sweetie Belle sat down. "Now what do I do?"

She was not exactly surprised when she heard a faint whisper in his ear. It was Madness.

"Sometimes acceptance will seem far away until you accept yourself…"

Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side as she thought about Madness's phrase.

"So… this is the land of acceptance," murmured Sweetie Belle looking about.

Then it dawned upon her. She had made it. She had made it near the end of the MIND. Sweetie Belle actually sighed and looked down at herself. Her once downy white coat was mussed up badly. It was streaked with dirt and blood, the blood being from both herself and many other fallen ponies. Sweetie Belle gently gave herself a brushdown. It did not change anything, but she did feel better mentally.

And with that, the clouds before her parted and did not close upon itself again. The castle in the sky, the castle of acceptance, was now before her.

Almost as if she was in a stupor, Sweetie Belle struggled up onto her wobbly legs and trotted towards the gates of the castle which were now impossibly close. Now that she was close, Sweetie Belle was able to inspect the building. Like everything else in the MIND, it still was rather distorted looking, with lopsided spires and twisted portcullises, but it was also constructed out of solid marble. Thus, the castle still had an ominous look, but it also, by looking at it, Sweetie Belle rather serene.

At that moment a pony poked their head over the castle wall.

"Who goes there?" shouted the pony.

"Sweetie Belle!" replied Sweetie Belle.

"You are the pony they call Sweetie Belle?" yelled down the pony, sounding rather shocked.

Sweetie Belle blinked. "Erm… yes?"

There was a pause. "We heard tell that you were a mite larger than that. You are a foal!"

Sweetie Belle sighed. "Yes. May I come in?"

There was yet another pause. "You may."

The pony disappeared. A second later there was a large clanking noise as they toyed with the portcullis device. In a moment the iron gridlock slide upwards and the WatchGuard pony Sweetie Belle had talked to not a moment before. The pony was Rainbow Dash, or, a Rainbow Dash doppelganger to be exact.

Curious to see what strange history was behind this look-alike of her long lost friend, Sweetie Belle immediately said, "Who are you?"

The Rainbow Dash doppelganger pony blinked. "Me? I am Guardspony Decision."

"Your name is Decision? That's nice. Was there… um… anything else?" coaxed Sweetie Belle.

Decision nodded her head slowly. "Ah… that's right. I was former element of disloyalty, but other than that… Why do you ask?"

Sweetie Belle shrugged. "No reason." She then proceeded to attempt to pass Decision, but she stopped her.

"You cannot just walk in just yet!" exclaimed Decision, "You must accompany me to the Council of Truth."

Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side. The Council of Truth? Was this like the Council of Knowledge? Were they the same thing? She was about to find out.

Holding her Zepto-Sword out so that Decision could see it, Sweetie Belle made it clear that she would not attempt to resist. Decision nodded her head in thanks and motioned for the filly to follow her.

They entered through the gate and trotted into the courtyard of the castle in the sky. As the portcullis slowly blocked off the exit, Sweetie Belle looked about this new scene. The ground was completely overlaid with a giant chessboard. However, the most eerie part of the courtyard was what populated the chessboard-like area. Status of ponies, dragons, chimera, donkeys, and cows were lying all about. But even that was not as eerie as the expressions of these creatures. Their faces were fixed in expressions of mournfulness.

"What is this place?" asked Sweetie Belle. She tightened her magical grip on her levitating Zepto-Sword as her suspicions about this strange place doubled.

"This is the Courtyard of Relapse. Sometimes ponies come out of Depression, looking for acceptance. However, if they are not truly accepting of the truth that they must move on, they can sometimes get sucked back into Depression. However, a semblance of their forms are left behind as they are pulled in, leaving a mark for future travelers to see what can happen if they do not root their whole souls in acceptance," replied Decision promptly, "the decisions must be made. That is what I help in. That is what the Council of Truth is for."

Sweetie Belle nodded her head absent-mindedly as her eyes continued to drift about, looking at the countless status representing poor souls lost forever. At the end of the courtyard was massive double doors constructed purely out of whitewashed stones. Decision stopped outside these doors and rapped on them. The sound of her hoof upon stone resonated loud and deep. The notes hung in the deathly quiet air for a full beat before dissolving into nothing. A whole minute of pure silence enveloped the courtyard. Then, suddenly, the double doors swung open with a despondent rumble.

"For a place that is designed to represent the end of depression, this place still has an air of depression permeating it," muttered Sweetie Belle as she trotted into the hall beyond.

Decision, who had heard Sweetie Belle, leaned close to the filly and whispered, "That is probably because you do not believe it is the end of depression in the first place. Tread lightly, little foal, or you will be one more statue to add to the Courtyard of Relapse. I will stay here until the Council of Truth decides the truth within your heart."

Sweetie Belle did not respond, but instead continued to trot deep into the hall. The massive room stretched on indefinitely for as far Sweetie Belle could see, for the hall was only properly illuminated for a couple dozen meters. Beyond that was thick, inky, blackness. Sweetie Belle trudged up to the end of the lighting and was shocked to see that the darkness was almost physical. The black was like a wall, blocking off whatever was left of the large hall from the filly's view.

Confused, Sweetie Belle turned about to ask Decision for another course of action, but found herself trapped. The giant double doors that represented the entrance and exit of the giant hall had vanished entirely, leaving the foal all alone in a circlet of light, surrounded by practically solid walls of shadow.

However, just as Sweetie Belle realized that, indeed, she was trapped, a voice echoed out from nowhere.

"Child… step into the black."

Sweetie Belle started. Had a voice just asked her to push through those foreboding walls of pitch dark?

"I would prefer to stay here, thank you," the filly said outloud, now wielding her Zepto-Sword freely, "Unfriendly things tend to happen to small fillies such as myself in such hideous shadows as those."

There was a pause.

"The darkness is only in your mind, little pony. You must find the truth within yourself. Only then will the shadows dissipate. Stepping into the black will show that you no longer fear the darkness. The truth will then come to light."

Sweetie Belle's throat caught in shock. The truth? She had never thought about that.

"I… Um… What truth?" asked Sweetie Belle.

The ink blackness around her bulged and contorted. Hideous, demonic faces formed in darkness like black putty, and sharp spikes constructed out of shadow shot out to scratch and scar the circlet of light surrounding the little pony.

"What truth?!" shrieked the voice, "THE TRUTH! There is no other truth! Have you found the truth? Think!"

Sweetie Belle squeaked as the defiled, twisted demonic faces forced their way out of the black shadows to snap their distorted teeth at her. Swinging her Zepto-Sword left and right in a feeble attempt to protect herself from these strange attackers, Sweetie Belle yelled, "I… I don't know! Cheerilee told me a while about always telling the truth, but that was it!"

"WRONG!" screeched the voice, "HAVE YOU LEFT DEPRESSION BEHIND?!"

"I thought I did!" screamed Sweetie Belle as the roiling shadows increased in the intensity of their thrashings, "But now I no longer know! I do not know anymore!"

The shadows suddenly stopped thrashing wildly. There was a deathly silence as the black walls of darkness calmed like an ocean recovering from a hurricane.

"She has lost her truth," murmured the voice.

Abruptly another voice, slightly different than the other, spoke, "Does this mean she will fall into depression once more?"

"No," answered another voice, "We must not let that happen. She has the Zepto-Sword and the hat of Madness, she is important."

"But she has lost the truth!" exclaimed another voice, "How can we help her find it?"

There was a pause as all the voices quieted down to think.

"There are many ways to lose the truth," said one voice.

"There are so many truth's being fed and being added nowadays," agreed another.

"Mayhap we can have a truth tailor-made for this little pony," offered yet another, "Comfortable truths are always the most agreeable."

"But that does not mean it is the correct truth," interjected the first.

"We should send her to the library," said a voice that Sweetie Belle had not heard before, "There are plenty of truths lying about there."

Yet another voice that Sweetie Belle had not heard previously spoke, "But that is not the one truth. She must understand the one truth."

The first voice then spoke. "That is true. The absolute truth must be spread. We will take her to the library to give her that truth."

Sweetie Belle gasped as a terrible sense of vertigo overtook her. Her vision blurred and then blackened. A moment later, she found herself lying in front of the two double doors that she had entered. With a mournful creak, they swung open to reveal Decision standing in wait for her.

"I have been instructed to take you to the Library of Truths," she said stoutly, "Please follow me."

Sweetie Belle got onto all fours and swayed in place. Giving her head a vigorous shake, she straightened up and began to follow Decision through a series of complicated passageways.

"What was that all about?" asked Sweetie Belle, "What that the Council of Knowledge?"

"Not even close," chuckled Decision, giving her wings quick shakes, "The Council of Knowledge is based higher up. This council is only designed to provide truths."

"Okay," persisted Sweetie Belle, "But what are truths?"

Decision glanced at Sweetie Belle. "The council had told me that you had lost your truth, but it seems to me that you never knew you had one in first place. All ponies pace back and forth across the face of the earth, but why do they do such things? That is where the truths come in. The purpose. Why do you think you came here in the first place?"

Sweetie Belle gasped. She suddenly remember what Madness had told her when she had first arrived.

She opened her mouth to tell Decision of her quest to stand before the Council of Knowledge by gathering the living hearts of the Great Question, but before a sound could exit, an urgent whisper from an invisible Madness silenced her.

"Mr. What is of great influence here, you cannot declare your intent to steal his living key," he murmured, "You must gain the trust of these people to get close…"

"But that's wrong!" replied Sweetie Belle to herself in hushed tones.

"But what is wrong? Your survival is all that matters. And if you do not stop the Grief through Knowledge, many more ponies of the MIND will die."

"Who are you talking to?" asked Decision abruptly, "And what is in that bag?"

The last question was targeted towards the blood-caked saddlebag that held the bloody hearts of the slain Great Questions.

With no time left to argue ethics, Sweetie Belle quickly thought up a response.

"These are the hearts of my enemies," she said sternly, "I do not take kindly to those who have been infected by Grief."

Decision blinked. Then she turned away to point to a large white door constructed out of elm. "This door leads to the Library of Truth. May you find the absolute truth along your way. Or, perhaps, you will find your own tailor-made truth. It does not matter to me."

"She has already lost the truth, a long time ago," said Madness in hushed (yet guttural) tones, despite the fact that only Sweetie Belle could hear.

Sweetie Belle nodded her head in thanks to Decision and trotted up to the door. Before she reached it, it swung open as if it was automated. What Sweetie Belle found was quite different from what she was expecting, though that sensation had ceased surprising her. Inside was a small room, with a single book. It was as large as an atlas, and as thick as a dictionary, but was nowhere near the proportions required to be able to contain all the knowledge of the average library.

"Curious," muttered Sweetie Belle as she trotted up to the book. However, like the door, the book flared to life before she could quite reach it.

"Hello," said the book. The book's voice was ominous, like someone with strip-throat talking through an electronic fan.

Sweetie Belle recoiled, and spent a moment staring in a stupor at the talking book. "You… you talk?"

"But of course, little filly" hissed the book, "When you read a book, it speaks from its pages does it not? I am simply speaking to you like the average book does. Why do you seemed so surprised?"

"This place was called the Library of Truth, so I was expecting… well… a library."

"Why am I not surprised? A library is nothing but a house of books. This is a house, and I am a book, therefore this place is a library."

"Oh. I'm sorry…"

"Say what you mean and mean what you say, female. Now, may I be of service?"

"I do not know. What can you tell me of?"

"I can tell you of anything, little female. Books hold everything. In fact, books hold so much of everything that they even include nothing."

"Oh. Umm… C-could you tell me of Mr. What?"

"Mr. What… He is the leader of the Council of Truth. After all, how can you help ponies decide if they understand the absolute truth if they do not ask first WHAT the truth is?"

"Do you know where I might find him?"

"That I do indeed, female. Mr. What, when not orchestrating the Council of Truth, can be found in the Watchtower."

"And what is the Watchtower?"

"That is a tower located in the center of this Castle in the Sky. It is the tallest of the towers here. After all, if Mr. What must keep a lookout for reality. When realities, or realty-bringers like the Grief, come, castles in the sky dissipate like mountains on the face of eternity."

"Thank you." Sweetie Belle then turned to trot away. However, before she could leave the room, the twisted voice of the strange book spoke once more.

"Why are you asking of these things, little female?"

Sweetie Belle stiffened. She then turned to look in surprise at the book.

"What?"

"I see that you did not expect the book to ask questions back. That is curious. Books ask and leave ponies with as many questions as the more scientific of us books answer."

"Oh. Er… um… I want to meet him."

"So you tell me. But we both know you are willingly lying. Why is that? I am a book. I am an inanimate object. Has Madness made you so insecure that you must mask your purpose to even the air and earth around you?"

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize, little female. Now leave. Your stance in life is too dark for the absolute truth, or any truth for that matter, to pierce your heart. Not that the piercing of the heart with anything would be favorable in any case."

The last phrase went straight over Sweetie Belle's head, but she did understand the previous command. Nodding her head, almost meekly, Sweetie Belle trotted away.

Decision was waiting outside to meet her.

"So," said the Rainbow Dash look-alike, "Did you find a truth? Or mayhap the truth?"

"I did not," said Sweetie Belle, "But I did find out what I needed to know."

Decision narrowed her eyes. "You did not find any truth, no matter how relevant or comfortable, and yet you come out as satisfied as if you had?"

Sweetie Belle nodded slowly, her mind working quickly to figure out a way to lose Decision. She had seen the Watchtower when she had first entered the Courtyard of Relapse, so she a pretty good idea of how she could make her way up. But now she needed to get away from Decision. Suddenly she remember that they had passed a hallway lined with multiple white stone doorways. If she could get Decision to take her down that way once more, she could slip away.

"Could you take me back to the Council of Truth?" she asked sweetly, a little bit of the old Sweetie reemerging (but perhaps for the wrong reason).

Decision nodded her head. To Sweetie Belle's satisfaction, the Rainbow Dash doppelganger takes her the same way they had come. Soon they passed through the doorway-lined hallway.

"So," piped up Sweetie Belle in an attempt to distract Decision, "How did you become FORMER element bearer of disloyalty?"

"That is a story for another day, little foal," replied Decision, "However, I can tell you a little bit about these five friends I had some time ago. You see…"

Decision stopped. She ten looked about. Sweetie Belle was nowhere to be seen. Instead of reacting in surprise or anger, she chuckled. "A page out of my book. And I was supposed to be the disloyal one."

Still chuckling, Decision turned about and trotted away, shaking her head.

As the echoing noise of the trotting hooves of Decision died away, Sweetie Belle poked her head out and looked about. Decision was gone. Quietly humming to herself in satisfaction, Sweetie Belle adjusted her bowler hat and hoisted her Zepto-Sword as she prepared to raid the Watchtower.

Quietly she crept down the halls, looking about, ensuring that no pony (especially Decision) could see her. Like a phantom, she made her way back to the Courtyard of Relapse. Diving behind a statue, Sweetie Belle looked up into the open sky.

Framed against the bleak white clouds that filled the entire expanse of the sky was the Watchtower, a jagged, distorted (yet whitewashed) spire that reached into the heavens. However, the most defining part of the Watchtower was an incredible stretch of stairs. These stairs were not ordinary, though. They were simply blocks of pure white marble that levitated place, leading all the way up to the distant tower.

Sneaking from statue to statue, Sweetie Belle crept to the floating stairs. But when she lay a hoof upon the first step, a voice echoed in her head.

"WHAT are you doing?"

Sweetie Belle practically jumped a meter in the air. Readying her Zepto-Sword, she turned quickly about, prepared to attack the speaker.

"Who are you?" she exclaimed, "Where are you?"

"I see you have already slain my brothers and sisters," chuckled the voice, "As for who and where… I am Mr. What, the most powerful of the Great Questions. I am right now in the Watchtower. Come. I am not afraid of you. Let us talk."

Sweetie Belle bit her bottom lip when she heard this. For the entirety of her quest, she had not truly encountered resistance from the Great Questions. They had either entirely understood why they had to die, or had been too incompetent to resist. But now the most powerful of the Great Questions understood completely what was transpiring, and it seemed that he, like Mrs. When, was averse to losing his life. But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that Mr. What was unafraid. He knew exactly who he was dealing with now.

But despite her own doubts, Sweetie Belle gathered up what courage she had and began to trot up the stairs. As she climbed higher and higher, she could see more and more of the land of acceptance, and what she saw sickened her. The land was slowly degenerating, as if the entire place was going into relapse. The fluffy white clouds that surrounded the entire land were buckling and bursting, allowing long strands of tarry Grief to ooze through and infect the land within. Already large puddles of Grief were pooling and infecting the land at a drastic rate. Seeing this, Sweetie Belle began to gallop up the steps at a breakneck speed, racing against the rate of Grief infection.

She burst through the doors of the Watchtower to confront Mr. What. The pony before her was amazing to behold. He looked as if he was a massive projection screen the shape of a pony. Other than his eyes (which were a solid, glowing green), his body looked to be playing out countless video clips at an incredible speed. Short flashes of multiple realities played out on his coat before Sweetie Belle's eyes.

"I am Mr. What, and I am what things are," said Mr. What, his voice echoing in the room.

Sweetie Belle looked at Mr. What nervously. Then she looked behind her. Through the open door she saw a large portion of the cloud-ceiling collapse, allowing a whole waterfall of Grief to pour in. She then looked back at Mr. What, desperation in her eyes.

"I know that look," chuckled Mr. What, "You are trying to figure out how you are going to kill me before this land collapses. Yes, this land will fall entirely in due time. Like the many ponies that now decorate the courtyard below, this whole land is going into relapse and being sucked back into depression because of you. This is your doing. You have thought perhaps you could escape depression, and build castles in the sky, in your heart, you knew it was not over. So now depression returns. Castles in the sky dissipate, and acceptance disintegrates."

Sweetie Belle gulped as a massive explosion resonated from behind her. A hole, scores of kilometers wide, had been created in the skyline of the land of acceptance, and tsunamis of Grief were not filling the land. Shrieks were resonating below as the Grief infected and killed the residents of the land. Sweetie Belle nearly moaned out loud as she heard a throat-rending scream from Decision fill the air as Grief tore her body apart.

"I need to do this," sobbed Sweetie Belle, "I need to get away."

Mr. What chuckled. "That is only what you think. What has Madness told you? What were you going to do after you did it? What is the point anyway? Has he told you that the only way to escape is to kill me, my brothers, and my sisters? What if I told you there was another way?"

Clapping his two forehooves together smartly, Mr. What conjured up a door. It mahogany embossed in gold. Golden sunrays flowed from the cracks in the door, and the sounds of peaceful woodlands echoed from inside. Sweetie Belle's legs nearly gave way when she saw it, but, before she could say anything, Madness appeared from nowhere.

Standing between her and the door, the strange pony whispered, "No, foal. He is lying to you."

"Madness!" laughed Mr. What, "What are you doing here? Or, better yet, what do you intend to do now she is here?"

"Listen to Madness," murmured Madness to Sweetie Belle, ignoring Mr. What, "The exit is never that easy. All comes with a cost. What is the cost of this?"

"Sometimes the exit is just as easy as that, Sweetie Belle," said Mr. What urgently. Outside, the entire land of acceptance had been submerged by Grief. Now thick, tarry tendrils of Grief were winding their way up the stairs to assault those in the Watchtower, "here it is, wide and easy. The tough and narrow ways never lead to true happiness."

"He is lying. Listen to the voice of Madness," whispered Madness.

"Well?" exclaimed Mr. What, "What will it be?"

Sweetie Belle looked from Madness, to Mr. What. She closed her eyes and a single tear fell from the left one. Rearing back her Zepto-Sword, she screamed at the top of her lungs as she rammed it through the right eye socket of Mr. What.

Immediately the poor pony vomited up a bucket-full of blood and bile, bathing the floor in filth. He then fell to the ground, writhing and bucking as life was ripped bodily from his body.

Madness stood to one side, watching as blood and vomit splashed the white walls, staining them horribly. Then he leaned close to the dead body of Mr. What and murmured:

BECAUSE I could not stop for Death–

He kindly stopped for me–

The Carriage held but just Ourselves–

And Immortality.

We slowly drove–He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labour and my leisure too,

For His Civility–

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess–in the Ring–

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain–

We passed the Setting Sun–

Or rather–He passed Us–

The Dews drew quivering and chill–

For only Gossamer, my Gown–

My Tippet–only Tulle–

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground–

The Roof was scarcely visible–

The Cornice–in the Ground–

Since then–'tis Centuries–and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses Heads

Were toward Eternity–

Sweetie Belle choked as she forced down her own vomit. However, even though she suppressed her bodily functions, she could not suppress her emotions. She broke down crying. She was still crying as she cut up the body of Mr. What to reach the heart. Cracking open the ribcage like an oyster, and tearing it from the vital arteries, Sweetie Belle took the heart and plopped it into the saddlebag of living keys. She then looked outside.

Though the massive dome of fluffy white clouds still was intact, giant holes filled it like Swiss cheese, Grief flowing through each hold like giant waterfalls. Aside from the Watchtower, there was nothing but a vast ocean of writhing Grief.

Sweetie Belle turned her back to the decimation to look at Madness.

"What is next?" she sobbed.

Madness trotted up to the door that Mr. What had created for Sweetie Belle previously and tapped it. The elaborate door shimmered and vanished. It then suddenly flashed back into existence as a plain door. Literally. It was made of lightly-painted, sandpapered, elm, with a simple steel doorknob.

"This is the next step," whispered Madness, "You must hunt down the last and least of the Great Questions: Mrs. Where. But where she is in this land, I do not know."

With that, Madness simply blinked out of existence.

Still crying over her heartless murder of Mr. What, Sweetie Belle pushed her way through Mr. What's blood and filth to put a hoof on the doorknob. The moment she did it, words appeared on the doorframe:

Pointlessness.

Sweetie Belle gawked. After all she had gone through, she was going to a place where it was all pointless? It seemed that way.

The queen has mobilized. You move your queen from D1 to F3. It is against instinct, but madness generally ignores such things. The Unknown sees your madness as an opening. They prepare to slaughter your remaining knight by moving a pawn from F7 to F6.