“You,” she said, pointing with an accusatory hoof. The door slammed shut behind her of its own accord, her horn glowing. Her mane sparkled faintly at the edges, adding the smell of ozone to the room. “You do not make sense.” Her horn flashed, and Olivia felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. For a few seconds she screamed, and it sounded like her cries of pain stretched and melted through the spectrum.