Day 3 of the Great Convergence
I refuse to call this a "journal." It sounds so... clinical. This ledger shall serve as a record of our elegance in the face of absolute absurdity.
The barn is, frankly, drafty, and the smell of old hay is doing no favors for my complexion. However, my primary concern is Rainbow Dash. The poor dear is vibrating with a nervous energy I've never seen. She spends every waking moment at the loft window, staring out as if she expects the sky itself to apologize.
She keeps mumbling about "being faster." It's heartbreaking. I tried to offer her a silk scarf to use as a headband—blue, to match her coat—to keep the sweat out of her eyes, but she snapped at me. She thinks she failed us. She doesn't realize that without her speed, the Cutie Mark Crusaders wouldn't even be in this barn; they'd be part of some six-legged horror in the town square.
I wish she would realize we don't need a hero right now. We just need our friend. But Dash has always equated her worth with her wings. Now that her wings couldn't stop the "Unity Spark," she thinks she's worth nothing at all.
2. From the "Farm Operations & Emergency Log" (Applejack's Journal)
Tues—no, Wednesday. Barn.
The hammerin' helps. If I'm hammerin', I'm not thinkin' about the way Big Mac looked when the glow hit him. I'm not thinkin' about the way his voice started soundin' like two ponies havin' an argument inside one throat.
Rainbow came up to me again today. She's got that look in her eye—the one she gets when she loses a race. Desperate. She apologized again. I didn't say much. I know she thinks I'm quiet 'cause I'm angry at her.
Truth is, I'm just scared if I open my mouth, I'll start cryin' and I won't stop. If I look at her, I'll see the guilt eatin' her alive, and I don't have the words to fix it. I'm the Element of Honesty, and the honest truth is: I'm glad she's here. I'm glad she's fast. But she's so focused on "failing" that she isn't seein' the ponies who are actually still here.
She's always been prideful, but this is different. It's like she's tryin' to carry the weight of all Ponyville on her back. If she don't set that weight down soon, she's gonna snap before the Chimeras even get through the door.
3. From the "Surviving the Convergence" (Rainbow Dash's Journal)
Location: The Loft.
Applejack still won't talk. Rarity tried to give me a scarf earlier—probably to hide the fact that I'm shaking. I can see it in their eyes. Every time a Stage 2 hisses outside, they look at me like, 'Why didn't you stop this, Dash?'
I went to the CMC's corner. Scootaloo looked up at me like I was still some kind of idol. It made me want to sick. She doesn't get it. I'm the one who let the Spark spread. I'm the one who wasn't fast enough to knock the "Unity Spark" out of the air before it hit the ground.
I'm starting to think about Stage 4. I haven't seen one yet, but in my head, I can imagine it. It'll be even bigger. Even more limbs. A perfect monster. If I'm not fast enough to beat a Stage 3, how am I gonna protect them from what comes next?
I have to go out there. I have to find Twilight. If I can't find a cure, I at least have to be the target so the others can run. It's the only way to make up for being so slow. I'm the fastest pony in Equestria. It's time I acted like it, even if it's the last thing I do.
The Scene: The Barn Floor
Rainbow Dash stands by the window, her wings tucked so tight they ache. Below her, the CMC are huddled together.
"Is Rainbow Dash okay?" Apple Bloom whispers, looking up at the loft.
"She's just being Rainbow Dash," Scootaloo says, though her voice wavers. "She's probably just... scouting. Planning how she's gonna save everyone."
Applejack looks up from her woodpile, catching Rarity's eye. They both see the same thing: Rainbow Dash, silhouetted against the moon, looking like she's ready to jump into the mouth of a storm just to prove she can.
"She's gonna do somethin' reckless, Rarity," Applejack mutters.
"She thinks she has to be the sacrifice," Rarity sighs, clutching her ledger. "The silly, prideful girl."