Wonderbolt Down

by Rebonack

First published 27th of July, 2013

Sharing a birthday with three of my closest friends? Great! Discovering that we've all acquired the cutie mark of relatively minor Wonderbolts? A little awkward. Actually becoming said Wonderbolts? Now that's just downright creepy.

Sharing a birthday with three of my closest friends? Great! Discovering that we've all acquired the cutie mark of relatively minor Wonderbolts? A little awkward. Actually becoming said Wonderbolts? Now that's just downright creepy. Laugh and cry with us as we try to make sense of the impossible and find a place in a world where ponies don't belong.

Inspired by TwistedSpectrum's Five Score, Divided by Four universe.

Wherein There Are Some Birthdays

You never really grasp just how important something is to you until you lose it. That's what they say, at least. Generally speaking I've got to admit that it's a valid platitude. Sure you might be aware that others lack whatever blessing you've been graced with, but to really feel the sting you have to live it for yourself. I think that's what this story is about. Coming to terms with losing something as fundamental as your identity and judging where you stand afterward. That and ponies. There are ponies involved too, which is probably why you're here. But now I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start on the day when the cosmos decided to drop the floor out from under my feet and ruin my life.

Day Zero

I'm honestly not sure how long I stood there staring blankly at the centrifuge. Spinning down a tissue sample to get at the DNA takes a while and by the time I felt the hand on my shoulder it had already finished the job. The first sound I registered apart from the annoying broken fume hood fan was the voice of my co-worker Steve.

“You alright Lance?” he asks, a hint of concern sneaking into his tone. “You looked a little lost in space. And you were making that annoying clicking sound again.”

“Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. And sorry about that, old habit,” I reply once my neurons decided that the time had finally come to start working in concert rather than shooting mental spit balls at each other. The 'clicking sound' is that soft 'tch' you can make with your tongue on the roof of your mouth. I'm not sure when I picked it up, but I tend to do it when I'm lost in thought. “Just have some stuff on my mind.”

Though for the life of me I can't seem to place exactly what that stuff was. Ah well.

“Well, if you say so. You sure you weren't just having a little chemical birthday celebration before coming into the lab today?” Steve asks. As far as Steve is concerned it is always a good time for a little well intentioned ribbing.

“Oh come on Steve, you know me better than that,” I laugh. “Keep the mind sharp and as boring as possible. You'll all have your fun making idiots of yourselves and I'll take all the pictures. I'm sure you'll be more than happy to guzzle my share. Gotta have one person to play designated driver after all.”

“You're such a teetotaler Lance,” Steve sighs, shaking his head as though mourning some great tragedy. “I'm going to get you to loosen up some day, mark my words.”

In a weird coincidence Steve and I both share a birthday, May first. And we're both twenty five today, too. Only found out about it after meeting each other here at the lab. We made for fast friends despite our somewhat clashing personalities but hey, that just makes for more interesting friendships, right? That also made Steve the newest addition to a little circle of friendship between myself and two other old school mates who happened to share the same birthday. When you grow up with kids in the same class with the same birthday some degree of camaraderie is almost inevitable.

“You keep saying that Silver, but I'm telling you it's never going to happen,” I reply with a wry grin. I was pretty resolute about the whole drinking thing. I've got an older brother who managed to completely wreck his life with alcohol. He's ten years my senior and seeing someone you look up to wreck themselves like that really leaves an impression on a young mind.

Steve turns to give me this weird look. Did I have something on my face? “What?”

“Did you just call me 'Silver'?” he asks.

I pause and think. Did I? I don't think so. “Probably just heard me wrong, Steve.”

Weird.

We spent the rest of our shift shooting the breeze and processing samples. A lab technician isn't exactly the most glamorous of jobs but I enjoy it. There's more downtime than you might expect, but that's science for you. No one makes a movie about the heroic scientist incubating a sample at a precise temperature for a few hours after all. Once work was done it was back to the apartment to get ready for the party. Well, less party and more a get-together down at a local bar and grill where my friends would all get hammered and I would laugh at them and drive them home.

It's traditional.

My usual post-work routine goes more or less as usual. Get home, feed the cat, toss some crickets to the salamander, check my e-mails, change out of my work clothes, notice the weird tattoos on my thighs. Alright, that last one isn't right. I'm dead certain that if I had gotten some tattoos I would have remembered it. Especially since I'm not the sort of person to partake in drunken blackouts. I sit down on my bed and inspect the picture more closely. Two tornadoes, a red one pointing down and a blue one pointing up so that they look like a pair of arrows. The detail is impressive and the skin near the edge of the mark doesn't look irritated at all.

On a hunch I lick my thumb and try rubbing at the picture to see if it'll come off. Nope, not even a smudge. “Curiouser and curiouser...” I mutter to myself. I'm a bit lost here. It obviously isn't one of those roll on tattoos you would buy for kids. And it doesn't really look like the more traditional inked tattoo either. No one could have drawn it onto me while I was asleep since I live alone. And I'm sure I didn't have it this morning either. Unless I was attacked by some really sneaky hobgoblins with permanent markers while I was at work I honestly have no idea where this thing came from.

“Screw it. Shower time,” I announce to no one and head off to do exactly that. “Hopefully you're going to be nice and come off under some scrubbing. Otherwise we're going to have to escalate this to finger nail polish remover and I don't think anyone wants that.”

It was a few hours later when I picked up Ivory at her house. Nice gal. Long standing friend of mine and partner in crime for our little Mayday circle. Great fun to be around. Bubbly, personable, and generally likeable. Owns a party supply store down town. First words out of her mouth? “Lance? Why do you smell like nail polish remover?”

I give an exasperated sigh and drop my head to the steering wheel. “It's a long, sordid story. One which I'm going to relate once we get to the bar to avoid repeating it.”

She laughs, but doesn't press the issue further.

Steve and Ruben are up next. Unsurprisingly Steve asks the same question. Ruben looks uncannily distracted though and keeps scratching at his hip. Maybe he got injured during a practice session? Ruben is a coach down at the local high school. Great guy, built like a wall, and has the utterly uncanny ability to rattle off most any sports statistics you might want (or not want) to hear about. He can get a little intense sometimes, though. Especially when he's out there with the kids showing them how it's done. Though the fact that he's itching at the same spot where my mysterious tattoo showed up? Some level of creeping dread nags at me, but I shove the thoughts down. This is a party. We're going to have fun. And we can laugh the newest addition to my body's pallet later.

“Ah King's Bar and Grill. There's no greater hive of scum and villainy in all the galaxy,” Ivory says in her best Obi Wan Kenobi impression as we step out of my car.

I do my best to hold my tongue. I know better than to bite Ivory's wrong-quote bait. We head inside and get seated at our usual table. We all come in here often enough that we're considered regulars and the novelty of the four-person birthday makes for quite the scene. I can't help but wonder if the waiters singing their rendition of happy birthday four times is a row might be considered a form of torture under the Geneva Convention.

“Alright Geneva, out with it. What's with the nail polish smell?” Steve asks with a wry grin.

Everyone else is staring at him now. Was that some kind of slip? Was he thinking the exact same thing I was? If Steve suddenly gained the ability to read minds that would be news to me.

“What did you just call me?” I ask. You know. Have to make sure.

“I think he called you 'Geneva,” Ruben replies.

“That's what I thought. Isn't that a city in Switzerland?” I say.

Steve looks vaguely confused. “I'm pretty sure I called you Lance, Lance. Didn't I? Is this some sort of revenge for calling me Silver at work?”

I honestly have no idea what to say. Probably doesn't matter, right? “Eh, never mind. Anyway, nail polish story. So when I got home from work and was getting undressed for a shower-”

“Mmm, go on?” Ivory interrupts with that mock-flirting of hers. I level the look at her and she just smiles innocently.

“As I was saying, I discovered this weird tattoo or picture or something on both my hips. Which is pretty damn odd considering that I haven't ever gotten a tattoo before,” I recount. “I ended up buying some nail polish remover to try to get rid of it, but no dice.”

Ruben is looking at me like my head just turned into a goldfish. “No way...” he mutters breathlessly. Great, now what? We all motion for him to continue. “I found Lightning Dust's cutie mark on my legs today between classes.”

His tone suggests that we should have some grasp of what he's talking about. Steve and I are utterly clueless. Ivory's grinning like a Cheshire cat, though. “Really? Wow! That's pretty crazy! And you didn't have it put on or anything? Just POOF! appeared out of the blue?” Ivory asks.

Ruben nods in confirmation.

I hold up my hands in defeat. “Alright. I have no idea what's going on. You found who's what on your leg?”

“Lightning Dust the Wonderbolt!” Ruben clarifies. “Only the best pony ever.”

“That's up for debate,” Ivory says with a grin.

“Oh God ponies,” Steve sighs as he buries his face in his hands.

Ah ponies. As in My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic. Sort of like Veggie Tales except without the religious overtones and talking ponies instead of talking produce. Did I mention my two oldest friends are bronies? Because they are, and they've got it bad. They tried to get me into it back in the day but I was always more inclined towards Transformers myself. It's really hard to go wrong with giant robots. The show ended five years ago with an awful series finale that sparked a giant flaming shitstorm on the Internet. The Big Bad Discord catches Rainbow Dash and the other Wonderbolts on their way to save the main characters. Dash gets blasted first. Two no name ponies are cursed or banished or something, fade to white, then the credits scroll.

I never really liked Pony, but Ivory and Ruben badgered me into watching the last episode so I would better appreciate how bad it was. Other than that I only know a few basics about the show, wasn't really my thing. Steve on the other hand? Hates them.

“You got a pony tattoo Ruben? Seriously?” Steve asks incredulously. “You're a grown man. Seriously. You would think a coach would be interested in more manly subjects.”

“Ponies are plenty manly,” Ruben replies with a completely straight face before grinning at me. “Alright. What's it look like Lance?”

I give a shrug and pull out a pen and a napkin and begin drawing a terrible rendition of my new 'tattoo'. “Two tornadoes that look like arrows. A blue one and a red one.”

“Geneva Pressure Front,” Ruben says definitively. I raise an eyebrow at him. “She's another Wonderbolt. A hippogriff that only showed up in one episode in Season Five.”

“You've memorized all the ponies' names and their butt-symbols,” Steve says, exasperated. “That's beyond pathetic.”

Ruben is about to counter Steve's compelling argument when something clicks in my head. “Wait wait wait. Geneva Pressure Front? Didn't Steve just call me Geneva a few minutes ago?” I shoot a sly grin his way. “You aren't a closet brony, are you Steve?”

Steve's face starts turning a little red. “I already said I didn't call you Geneva. And ponies are lame as hell.”

Ivory leans over to me and in a stage whisper says, “Methinks he doth protest too much.”

Laughs are had at Steve's expense and Ruben and I begin bouncing back and forth ideas about where these weird tattoos could have come from. Ivory throws out the suggestion, “Well obviously you were both always ponies but you've been displaced through time and space and body! And now here on your twenty fifth birthday the curse is broken!”

For added effect Ivory wiggles her fingers in a spooky fashion. Ha! As if that's likely.

Eventually our waitress shows up and begins taking our orders. Things are going just fine up until she gets to Ivory. “So what'll you be having tonight sweetheart?”

Ivory slowly raises one finger and takes in a breath to speak only to trail off.

We all wait for her to say something. Steve gives me an uncomfortable look, probably because of my unusual zone-out earlier in the day. The waitress is the first to speak up. “Honey? Are you alright?”

“Just give us a few more minutes,” Ruben requests. “I'm sure she's fine.”

Fine took another four minutes of Ivory vacantly ogling the wall until she finally blinks heavily as though waking up from a dream. She gives her head a shake and tries to focus on Ruben. “Dusty?”

Okay. This is starting to get a little bit eerie. On a hunch I ask, “Is there a Wonderbolt named 'Silver'?”

That gets a really odd look from Steve. “I could have sworn you don't like ponies.”

“I don't,” I reply tersely. “Hush.”

“Uuhh, no I don't think so,” Ivory says after shaking off the funk that had settled onto her. I breath a sigh of relief. Well good. As crazy as that hypothesis was it's shot down now.

“There's one named Silver Lining, though,” Ruben helpfully adds and sends my hope crashing into the earth in a flaming wreck.

Oh hell.

Now my mind is putting facts together. What do we know? All my friends have the same birthday. All my friends are the same age. All my friends either have Wonderbolt cutie marks, have referred to one of my other friends by a Wonderbolt's name, or have been referred to themselves by a Wonderbolt's name. These developments have all taken place in the last day. I rub my temples as I consider the implications. What the hell are the implications again?

Ruben is the one who voices my train of thought. “Hey Steve, Ivory? Would you two go into the bathroom and check for cutie marks?”

“Absolutely not,” Steve says as he crosses his arms.

“Alright!” Ivory chirps and rises to her feet. “If the waitress comes back tell her I want a super extra large order of onion rings and that one lager I like to start with. We're going to be here a while after all.”

It takes a few minutes. We place Ivory's order while she's in the lady's room and by the time she returns she's grinning like a maniac. All eyes follow her as she settles into her chair.

“Well?” I ask. What I'm met with in reply honestly wasn't what I was expecting at all.

“Surprise!” Ivory shouts, throwing her arms up in the air and turning heads around the restaurant. By the time I'm done clutching my heart and she's done laughing she offers some much needed clarification. “Three purple balloons. That's Surprise's cutie mark. She's another Wonderbolt.”

Isn't that just peachy?

“Alright, so,” I point at myself. “Geneva,” then to Ruben. “Lightning Dust,” then to Ivory. “Surprise,” and finally at Steve who glares at me. “Ostensibly Silver Lining. But we don't know for sure since Steve is too afraid of pony cooties to check. So.”

More glaring from Steve.

“Soooo?” Ruben echoes.

“So I have absolutely no idea,” I admit with a click of my tongue. “There's no way this isn't connected somehow. Maybe toss up some social media nonsense looking for other people with the same birthday and mysteriously appearing butt-symbols? We obviously need more data before we can draw any real conclusions about what's going on. Maybe this is just some kind of absurdly elaborate prank?”

Really though. I have no idea.

The talk of pony related doom dies down a bit when the food arrives and we start digging in. My friends, as per normal, continue ordering drinks well after the food is gone. Around the fourth round our desserts arrive one at a time and the singing starts. Oh that awful, ear bleedingly bad singing. I keep an ear out during each song and I find myself rewarded by the sound of Ivory belting out a buzzed 'Dear Silver Liniiiiiiing!' when Steve's turn rolls around.

Yeah. There is without a doubt something weird going on.

I continue to mull it over as my friends get increasingly incoherent. Steve, of course, tries his best to present a compelling argument about why I should join them. Given his current state of cognizance it shouldn't come as much of a shock that his reasons aren't that sound. After all, who is going to be driving these yahoos home if everyone is tanked?

Conversation bounces between work, the future, annoying kids that Ruben is coaching for and how they would best be dealt with, and of course the state of parties around the town as per Ivory's sales. I try to chat a bit about new nano-pore DNA sequencing machines we got at work recently but all my talk about how the technology is going to revolutionize our ability to study genetics is met mostly with glazed eyes.

“Come on Silver, I know you know what I'm talking about,” I say with a huff. “Being able to sequence someone's full genetic library for just a few hundred bucks is a giant leap forward in our ability to understand fine detail in, what?” I ask when I notice that Ivory is snickering.

“You called Steve Silver again,” Ivory laughs.

I gape like a fish. Did I? Damn, I think I did. I'm no neurologist but I know that people sometimes get subject related names mixed up sometimes. I can't count the number of times my mother called my by my older brother's name. But how would I be relating Steve with Silver? And why would I be relating Steve to Silver before I even knew who Silver Lining was? There's something I'm missing.

Ah well.

As the time went on my friends gradually reached their respective limits, bills were paid, and I herded my inebriated comrades back to my car. It had been a fun night even with the My Little Pony weirdness. I dropped my friends off one by one, wishing them each a happy twenty fifth, until it was just me and Ivory. She's a bit more wobbly than the other two and so I help walk her to her home. Of course she's giving little giggles every time she nearly topples over.

“Hehe... you're a great friend, Geneva,” she says, alcohol slurring her voice.

“Haha, yeah. That's me. Geneva the great friend,” I reply. I'm a little uncomfortable playing to the mistake, but I'm curious if she'll keep it up if I do. I'm rewarded with even weirder weirdness.

“Silly! Your name isn't Geneva,” Ivory says as she boops me in the nose with a finger. I'm surprised her hand-eye coordination is still that intact. “It's Geneva!”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, how absurd of me to forget,” I say as Ivory fumbles with her keys and finally gets her door open. She staggers inside and leans heavily against her hallways and waves drunkenly at me.

“Good night Ivory. Don't let the pony-madness crawl too deep into your brain. And happy birthday,” I say and she mutters back something incoherent. I close the door and head back to my car. I slide into the driver's seat heavily and lean back against the headrest. Really. What the hell is going on? There's no way I'm going to be getting any sleep until I do some research into this nonsense.

My mind is churning all the way home. I replay the facts over and over again, not that it does any real good. This is all related to that silly cartoon somehow. Somehow! But why? How? Is there some kind of disease going around that's painting pony butt-symbols onto people? That would probably be the most hilarious and most harmless epidemic ever.

Upon arriving home I head straight for my computer and boot it up. My house still smells vaguely like nail polish remover and my cat Soundwave is rubbing on my legs for attention, but nothing can stop me in my quest for knowledge. First order of the day? Image search for Geneva Pressure Front. The results are immediate. Ponies. Ponies everywhere. Or hippogriffs, more properly. Eagle front half, pony back half. Pony ears, golden brown coat, rust red mane with a black and white bar at the bottom sorta like a red-tailed hawk. Same with the tail. And there on her butt is the same nemesis that appeared on my own hips. Two tornadoes, one red and one blue. I think they use arrows that look kind of like that for weather reports? That's probably where the idea came from what with the 'pressure front' part and all.

I hike down my pants and check again just to make sure. Yep. Butt-symbol is still there. I give a sigh and turn my attention back to Geneva. She looks... strong. Determined. The sort of person (cat-bird-horse?) that is on a quest and is going to see it through. Something about her just clicks with me. She just feels right. And I have no idea why. And no idea why my friends kept calling me by her name. Including Steve. Especially Steve. He has no reason to even know who Geneva Pressure Front is.

Next I hop over to a My Little Pony wiki and look up Geneva there. Sure enough, only appeared in one episode during season five. “Wait, that can't be right,” I mutter as I recount the infamous last episode. I'm dead certain that she was one of the four Wonderbolts who were trying to keep up with Rainbow Dash and got blasted by Discord. Unsurprisingly she isn't listed in the episode synopsis. Well, one easy way to check. Just open up a tab for YouTube and play the final episode. Only the last few minutes matter of course since Geneva getting fried was the final event before the whiteout and the credits rolled.

I advance the video to the point where Discord is mocking that purple pegacorn and hit play. Alright, here we go. She gets zapped AND! Fade to white. The credits rolls.

“Wait, what?” I demand of my monitor. “Where the hell is the last scene with the Wonderbolts?” Did Hasbro cut it out or something? I check another upload of the video and discover the same wrong ending. And that process repeats with the next three videos as well. Did I just imagine it somehow? But where would I have gotten Geneva's character from? She was just standing in rank and file with a bunch of other Wonderbolts when Rainbow Dash was promoted to a captain. And I hadn't ever watched that episode, had I? With a sigh I drop my face into my hands. “Curiouser and curiouser...”

Well this isn't getting me anywhere. I switch back over to the images of Geneva and begin scrolling down to see if there was anything vaguely insightful to be found. It doesn't take long before I run across pictures of her in a compromising position with a variety of ponies and one griffin I don't recognize.

“Really? For a kid's show? Screw you rule thirty four. And straight through safe search, too,” I waggle an admonishing finger at my search engine. “You need to step up your game, Google.”

Welp! Time for a new topic. Silver Lining comes next. A grey pegasus stallion with a curly silver mane and tail (go figure) and a butt-symbol of a dark raincloud with a silver outline. Now I've got a pretty good idea of what might have spontaneously appeared on Steve's ass some time today. I make a mental note to harass him about it at work tomorrow.

Lightning Dust and Surprise get their turns next, both pegasus mares. Turns out that all four characters except Lightning Dust are considered 'background ponies' while Dust is a supporting character. Even gets a few episodes about her. Well way to go Ruben, I guess? Why would anyone fanboy over some relatively unimportant character, though? Bronies are weird.

Now that I've gathered some basic information on the characters and have an image of Geneva getting plowed by some body-builder looking white pegasus burned into my poor brain I decide to shift the focus of my studies a bit. Namely? Find out if anyone else has suddenly found themselves the proud owner of a cutie mark. Oddly enough there are a few Tweets on the subject, though I never bothered with a Twitter account so I can't rightly reply. Even more strange is that after a little bit of digging I discover that at least two of the poor souls smitten with cutie-pox also had a birthday today.

A twenty fifth birthday.

There is no way that's a coincidence.

I lean back in my chair and give a sign of disbelief. Soundwave finally gets tired of being ignored and jumps up into my lap. I acquiesce to his demands and start scratching his neck for him. “So what do you think?” I ask my cat. “Because the world wide tattoo-happy hobgoblin conspiracy idea is starting to hold more merit.”

Soundwave decides to climb up onto my shoulder and stick his butt in my face in reply.

Glorious.

“Yeah, I'm done,” I announce to no one and shut my computer down for the night. Morning. Whatever. Two thirty am. Yeah, that's plenty of sleep. I've been able to function at work on far less. I go through my before-bed routine with Soundwave doing his best to trip me the whole time, get undressed, and sit down on my bed. Soundwave hops up with me and begins sniffing at my new cutie mark until I toss him to the foot of the bed and pull my blankets over myself. Hopefully he won't decide to sleep on my face again.

Out go the lights and I start having a chat with the ceiling.

“So! Ponies and cutie marks, huh? If I find out that this is your idea of a joke I'm going to be pretty upset. You could have at least stamped a holographic Decepticon decal on me instead. I think I would have been okay with that.”

“I'm kind of worried about Silver, though. He's not too big on the whole pony thing and if he ends up with a grumpy raincloud on his rear I doubt he's going to take it well. He's a fun guy to be around, just... Well, you know. He gets pretty passionate about stuff he doesn't like. And he really doesn't like ponies. If it does come down to cutie marks for him just... I don't know... help him keep a level head about it. And if this is as wide-spread as I think it might be? There are going to be a lot of really confused people. There's got to be a reason for all this, I'm just a bit lost as to what it could possibly be. I'm still banking on the hobgoblins, though.”

I ramble aimlessly for a while about my day. I'm not sure exactly when I finally drift off to sleep. What a weird day. At least tomorrow can't get any stranger.

Wherein Things Get Stranger

Day One
Twenty Four Days Remain

Rain against my flight goggles. Wind against my face. Screaming of friends. Maniacal laughter of an insane foe. I'm calling out someone's name. Then comes a sound like a thunderclap. Stillness. The world turns featureless and white.

Unlike the movies I don't awaken with a gasp and bolt upright. Instead the dream dissolves away and I feel myself frozen from the after-effects of a nightmare. I'm in my room. And if my alarm clock is to be believed I have two minutes before it's going to go off. More or less par for course, really. I slowly work the feeling back into my limbs and break the stillness of sleep. Soundwave makes a plaintive sound from the foot of my bed and hops off to sit by his food dish. He has priorities after all and now that his servant is awake they're to be attended to.

“Alright, alright, I'm coming,” I grumble as I haul myself out of bed and preemptively turn my alarm off. Soundwave gets his breakfast and I ponder the dream. I've always had an uncanny memory when it comes to dreams. Especially dreams that I have right before getting up. But this one is really fragmented despite being so vivid. Pretty sure I've had it before, too.

I shuffle my way into the bathroom for my morning shower and flick the light on. I'm greeted by myself in the mirror and for some absurd reason my reflection has decided to put some red highlights in his hair.

“What now...” I deadpan and lean closer for a better look. Most of my hair looks normal, but a few locks of it have turned a deep rust-red color with a stripe of black followed by a stripe of white. Almost like the tips had been dunked into two colors of dye at different lengths. With a sigh I run my hands along my face and a little nagging voice reminds me that I haven't clean-shaven myself in a while. Okay, now it's time to yell.

“Really? Really! The hobgoblins decided to abduct my beard, too?” I yell at my reflection, who is polite enough to respond in kind. I'm glad for that, at least. If my reflection had suddenly decided to start moving out of sync with me like some cheap horror film I'm pretty sure I would loose it right there. I glower at my lack of stylish goatee and stalk off into the shower for some much needed relaxation.

The rest of the morning goes off more or less without a hitch. I dress, eat, and have a fairly comfortable amount of time left before I need to head off to work. I resolve myself to try to avoid thinking about ponies. My resolve breaks in all of three minutes. I decide to check the mirror again on a whim and can't but notice that it looks like I've got a few more locks of red-tailed hawk style hair than I did last time. I take in a deep breath and begin sifting through my hair and dreading what I might find. And finding it doesn't take long. It had looked like something was moving around in my normally brown hair at first, but on closer inspection a lock is turning from brown to red from the roots up right before my eyes.

This is absolutely impossible.

And yet there it is right in front of me. The realization the color replacing my hair matches that of a certain cartoon hippogriff isn't lost on me. On the off chance that invisible hobgoblins are busy dying my hair I flail my hands around above my head to swat them off.

Nope. No dice. Hair is still changing color.

“Well. This is pretty inexplicable.”

By the time I get to the lab enough of my hair has changed color that it's basically impossible to miss. Not that it was difficult to miss bright red hair with black and white bands at the tips to begin with. Thankfully I have a selection of awesome hats with which to obscure my rebellious hair from any prying eyes. I say my usual good mornings and do my best to pretend that absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary and that I am not in fact trying to cosplay as a cartoon character. By the time I'm actually processing samples it isn't too difficult to distract my mind from the recent weirdness. Though that stupid squeaky fan is really starting to get on my nerves.

Steve comes in a few minutes after I do. He looks far more bedraggled than what the party alone last night should have warranted. The reason is immediately obvious. The hobgoblins have dyed a few locks of Steve's hair silver and then stuck them in curlers. I do my best not to smirk at the sight. Though I can't resist the zinging I had come up with last night.

“Don't worry Steve, I'm sure there'll be a silver lining to this whole mess,” I say with as straight of a face as I can manage.

Steve levels a finger at me. “Not. Another. Word.”

Yeah, that's pretty much what I expected. I quickly change the subject. “So I took a tissue sample off my butt-symbol and another normal skin sample to see if there's any genetic basis to whatever the hell it is that's going on. I've got them prepping right now for the nano-pore sequencer.”

Steve gives a little huff and begins his lab work. “Do you really think that's what's going on? That there's some rational explanation for,” he pulls on a springy lock of silver hair. “This?”

“I will freely admit that I have absolutely no idea. The way the hair is changing doesn't make much sense. There's nothing alive in hair to make it change color like that,” I reply. I must have done the tongue click again because Steve is shooting me that look he always does. “Ah, anyway. A full genetic library sequence should tell us whether or not it's time to start freaking out. If this is just funny hair and a tattoo in a not particularly noticeable spot then we can just keep the latter covered and dye the former.”

I leave unsaid the obvious question, though. What if this is going deeper than just a few absurd cosmetic changes? But people don't just up and spontaneously change species anywhere outside of fantasy novels, so we shouldn't have to worry.

When I see the results of the sequences I start to worry. I sit there staring at the computer screen and trying to make sense of what I'm being shown. The DNA had been sequenced alright and I had decided to compare it to the largest full library sequence database we've got, the result of years of work and sequence grinding.

“No matches...” I mutter breathlessly. Steve is standing behind me looking vaguely horrified. See, pretty much all multi-cellular organisms share a pretty huge chunk of their genetic information with each other. Even a banana holds about fifty percent similarity with a human. The sample from my cutie mark came back with less than ten percent similarity which is flagrantly impossible. Flagrant impossibility seems to be a bit of a theme for the past two days.

“Anything from Earth should have at least a fifty percent match to something,” Steve says.

“Yeah, Earth being the operative word. Look at this,” I bring up a screen full of As, Cs, Gs, and Ts, and point to a section of it. “The program is pretty sure that this is supposed to be an open reading frame, but there aren't any start or stop codons where they should be to tell us where the gene is supposed to begin or end.”

Steve frowns at the screen in silence for a few moments before suddenly swearing, “Holy shit. We're looking at a completely different genetic code. This DNA isn't written in the same language as everything else. This... we're looking at honest to God alien DNA.”

Honest to God alien DNA that I scraped off my leg this morning. That certainly isn't unsettling in the least. To make matters worse the 'normal' skin sample I had taken was a chimera of human and alien DNA. How that would even work without the cells detecting mutation and undergoing apoptosis in mass I won't pretend to understand. Though I can say that I'm pretty glad that they didn't. Having all of my cells self-destruct would have made for a really lousy birthday gift.

“We're a walking Nobel Prize,” I laugh in spite of the creeping dread crawling down my spine. What else can I do? Have a complete nervous breakdown? Eh, maybe later. I've still got time on my schedule. “Assuming they give out Nobel Prizes in biology to cartoon characters. Too bad we don't have the equipment here to figure out which codons are used for which amino acids. It would actually be really interesting to find out how the two genetic languages differ.”

Steve gives a groan and falls heavily into one of the office chairs, his face buried in his hands. “This... God, I don't even know what to make of this. Why us? Some kind of... of alien abduction experiment thing? I seriously need a drink.”

“Alas my friend,” I begin, patting Steve on the back. “We still have three hours of drudgery before you can drown your pony-related troubles in booze.”

My friend levels a wither glare at me, though it's easy enough to see that it's more frustration than actual anger. “How the hell can you possible be taking this... this! All of this so easily!”

All I can do is laugh. I laugh to keep myself from crying.

“This isn't funny, Geneva! This isn't a bucking joke!” Steve yells, kicking at a desk leg in frustration.

Did he just use the word 'buck' as profanity? Is this absurd affliction going to make our curses more kid-friendly too?

“I know, I know it isn't. What else am I supposed to do?” I ask as the full weight of implications bear down on me. “Curl up on the ground in the fetal position and weep? Go completely stark raving mad? I'm as surprised as you are that I'm not totally losing it right now. As far as I'm concerned being human is a pretty important part of who I am. Notwithstanding that this is a lot more wide-spread than just you and me and Dust and Surprise. I did some digging around on the internet last night and there are other people getting hit by,” I wave one hand in a completely non-informative fashion. “Whatever this is. For all we know this could be some kind of precursor to an alien invasion. Or a disease from another universe. Or a butt-painting prank by hobgoblins. Or maybe the devil got really board of roasting marshmallows and snuck around scrambling a bunch of people up at the biochemical level.”

That manages to get a little snicker out of Steve. Mission accomplished. “So what do we do now? Keep this a secret? Try going public with it? If the general public finds out that people are turning into aliens for no Goddamned reason it's going to ignite a panic.”

“And if it's as wide-spread as I suspect it might be then people are going to find out no matter what we do. Three hundred and fifty thousand people are born each day. Three hundred and fifty thousand people are the same age as us, with the same birthday. I don't know if whatever this is will hit all of them, but I do know that so far everyone who has been afflicted was born on the first of May, nineteen ninety five. That's too big of a coincidence to overlook,” I sigh and give my tongue a click. “I don't know, Steve. I guess keep a lid on it for now and see what happens. If we do end up-”

“Lance?” Steve says suddenly, disrupting my train of thought.

“Yeah?” I ask. The tone of his voice makes me suspect another awful thing has decided that this would be a great time to befall me and I haven't noticed it yet.

“First, the tongue thing. Seriously, it's annoying. Second? Your eyes are yellow,” Steve says.

My brain stalls out for a few moments as I try to come to grips with that. Yellow. Okay. My eyes are yellow now. Not brown anymore, yellow. Like a hawk's. Like Geneva's. Isn't that just swell? That's really swell. Best news I've heard all day.

I close my eyes and rub them as if that will somehow make things better. Then I pull off my hat and brace for the worst. Steve doesn't let me down and gives a little strangled gasp. “How bad is it?” I ask.

“Well,” Steve coughs. “About half your hair looks pretty ridiculous. And it's longer now, too.”

My eyes open and I run a hand through my hair. It feels like it's naturally parting near the middle of my head, which means my bangs are kind enough to flop off to the side instead of into my eyes. That's a plus at the very least. I feel down a bit lower and discover that my hairline has grown down my neck and nearly to my shoulders. Wonderful. I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that this metamorphosis won't be done until it's done. With a few choice words about hobgoblins I stuff my new luxurious mane back under my head-wear, condemning it to a loathsome future of hat-hair.

“Let's just... ignore this for a while. I don't want to think about it,” I concede.

Five o'clock rolls around quickly enough despite the lingering dread jostling around in my stomach like a rock. It wasn't too long before Steve had acquired a new pair of aqua eyes and I pointed out that he was walking around on his tip-toes. Turns out I was too. By the time we both left my new hawk-hair was poking out from under my hat here and there on account of growing too long to be properly contained. I got a few odd looks from my other coworkers but I passed it off as if nothing unusual was going on. Steve and I met out in the parking lot to make some plans before leaving for home.

“We get in contact with the others as soon as we're home,” I say while pacing back and forth in front of my car like a ballerina. I feel completely absurd. Despite my best efforts to discipline myself and walk normally the moment my mind moves to something else I'm tip-toeing around again. “We should try meeting at Surprise's place, she's got the biggest house to fit us all comfortably. If this gets much worse we're going to have to call in sick for work.”

Steve gives a derisive snort. “Really Lance? Missing a few days of work will be the least of our problems.”

“Alright, point taken. I think-” I begin, only to be cut off by Jerry.

“Hey Lance! Steve! I've been dying to ask, what's up with the hair?” Oh God help us, Jerry. His penchant for prying into other people's business is nothing short of legendary around the lab. If we just blow him off he'll get suspicious and more annoying. I quickly decide that some dead-panned half truth might be the best smoke screen.

“Alien plague that gives people clown hair,” I reply with a smirk. “Don't get too close, it might be contagious.”

Jerry raises an eyebrow.

“We lost a bet at the birthday shindig,” Steve says, waving one hand dismissively. “Had to wear wigs to work. It's no big deal.”

That seems to be enough to satisfy Jerry's curiosity. “Haha, that's pretty funny! Man, wait till the guys hear about this. Later you two! See you on Monday!”

I'm sure that won't come back to bite us in the ass somehow.

Once I'm home I drop a call off to Ivory and Ruben. Surprise surprise they're both going through the same insanity that we are. We agree to meet over at Ivory's place at seven and discuss what we've managed to figure out and decide on what to do next. Because we are going to have to make some serious plans here. I don't think security would be willing to let a hippogriff and a pegasus into the lab. Except maybe in little pieces as specimens which I would really rather avoid.

By the time I'm done with my shower my mane is an absolute dead-ringer for Geneva's, right down to the way it parts and falls. It looks incredibly girly. I decide to do what I can with it and just stick the whole thing in a low pony-tail and plop a derby hat on top of it. There! Now I look like some kind of weird clean-shaven cowboy or something. Not ideal by any means, but certainly an improvement.

I grab a quick bite, feed my overly needy cat, and decide to review a few more episodes of Friendship is Magic before taking the drive. I have a vague memory of an episode that Ivory had gotten me to watch years ago, Lesson Zero. May as well go with that, right? A nice little tale of the show's purple protagonist having a nervous breakdown. I can honestly sympathize with her right now. Though the thing that really catches my attention is Rainbow Dash's means of shed demolition. Namely nose-diving into a building and flattening it with a rainbow colored mushroom cloud. I can't help by wonder if that's accurate in any way. Are the creatures we're apparently metamorphosing into able to laugh off those kinds of stresses? How would they even fly with those tiny wings and no rudder to speak of?

Back to the wiki! Apparently all three races of ponies have their own flavors of magic to draw on, the pegasi in particular focusing on flight and weather. Of course. Magic! That explains exactly nothing. Explanations that don't tell me anything have been really plentiful of late. Regardless, apparently pegasus magic allows the really good ones to break the sound barrier, crash into things at hundreds of miles an hour with relatively little harm, and pull g-forces that should rightfully turn their organs into jam.

“Huh. Sounds like their 'magic' is just absorbing or creating accelerative forces on them,” I mutter to Soundwave as he rubs against my leg. “That would certainly explain why they seem to be able to casually disregard gravity when they feel like it. It sure as hell would make Newton cry, but I guess that's magic for you.”

I end up pursuing the topic of 'pony magic' and nearly forget about the meeting. Whoops! On the way out to the car I adjust my hat since it feels like I've got it too low against my ears. Turns out that my hat isn't too low, my ears are too high. And turned into some sort of weird pointy cross between a horse's and a lion's in addition to having migrated to the top of my head. I spend about five minutes just looking at myself in my car's rear view mirror and twitching them around in different directions. With a morose sigh I look down at my hat feeling utterly defeated.

“I guess I'm going to have to chop some holes in you guys to make you fit...” I explain to my poor, forsaken hat. “I really don't want to have to do this. And I want you to know that this will hurt me much more than it hurts you. But I'm not going to give up on you yet, old friend.”

I pick up my derby hat and cram it down over my ears. The pinching sensation makes my eye twitch a bit.

“No, I'm not giving up on you yet,” I resolve as I drive over to Ivory's house.

As if my aching ears weren't bad enough now my rear starts hurting too. I can feel something growing down there and I'm sitting right on top of it. I keep shifting around trying to get comfortable but the result is always the same, I'm crushing what is almost certainly a new limb that no human should have. It finally gets painful enough that I pull over along side the road and yank my new tail out of my pants. Imagine for a moment a cross between a horse's tail and a lion's. That's pretty accurate. Long and cat-like with a ridge of stringy hair growing down the top with a slightly stiffer poof at the end. All in the red and black and white hawk pattern to match my mane, of course. Got to have a matching mane and tail or else you'll look silly, right? At this point I'm pretty sure that I've hit my limit for weirdness because I accept my new tail with a sort of dulled reluctance.

Thankfully I'm able to curl my tail up over my lap so I'm not sitting on the thing and I make the rest of the drive without trouble. When I pull up in front of Ivory's house I can't help but notice that I arrived last. I really do hate being late, but I'm sure 'Oh sorry, I got distracted when I grew a new limb' will make a pretty decent excuse. I hop out of my car and hang onto my tail to avoid slamming it with the door by mistake. Breaking my new limb within ten minutes of gaining it would reflect poorly on me.

“Hey everyone, sorry I'm late. I-SONOFABITCH!” yep. Closed Ivory's front door on my tail. Thankfully not that hard. Damn treacherous tail! It's already conspiring against me with random inanimate objects. I give the door jam a kick and drop down into the nearest empty chair. Petting my tail, of course. That makes it feel a little better despite looking absolutely silly.

Surprise is giggling despite herself. Her eyes have turned bright lavender and her mane has become this incomprehensible nest of bright yellow poofiness. I'm pretty sure you could lose a a small child in there if you really tried. No tail yet, though. But just you wait Ivory, pretty soon you'll have a rebellious new limb with a mind of its own too.

Ruben comes in with a pair of beers and a tail to boot. I guess he's about as far along as I am. Amber eyes scrutinize me as I pull my hat off and a pair of aqua fuzzy ears on top of his head twitch a bit. He's wearing this cock-sure smirk that leaves me wondering if he's having too much fun with this insanity. Crazy bronies. His mane and tail are sort of a swept back mix of darker shades of yellow. Sort of match his eyes I guess? Sorry, I'm a lab tech, not a paint store guy.

“If we're going to have a serious discussion about this I'm not sure if getting drunk is the best plan,” I point out, doing my best to be the voice of reason in a den of cartoon horses.

“Too late,” comes the slurred voice of Steve from under a pile of couch cushions nearby. “Because being drunk is about the only way I'm going to be able to handle talking about this.”

“Come on Silver,” Ruben laughs as he plunks down a beer on the end table nearest the couch. “This is exciting! A break from the same old, same old! Do you have any idea how many times I've thought about how amazing flying under my own power would be? And we're all going to end up as some of the greatest fliers that Equestria has ever seen!”

“I'm pretty content with just being me, thanks,” Steve shoots back as he grabs the beer.

“Did you tell them about the DNA thing already?” I ask, trying my best to ignore just how chipper Dust is about turning into a pony.

“I told them about the DNA thing already,” Steve confirms.

“Not just ponies, aaaaaaaalien ponies! What's up with that, anyway? Why not normal earth-language-DNA or whatever? What does it all meeeeean?” Ivory asks as she bounces up and down impatiently, her mane bobbing along with her and her new white pony ears slowly emerging.

It's all I can do to avoid staring at her mutant equine ears to just close my eyes and take another deep breath. “It means there's some basis to all of this. Something real beyond the cartoon and the magical land of make believe. If I had to guess I would say that there's probably a real world out there somewhere with real ponies that we're acquiring the genome of for God knows what reason. Maybe whoever or whatever's doing this put the idea of the show into someone's mind years ago. There's really no way to know beyond wild guesses.”

“Do you think there's a way to fix it?” Ruben asks with a quirk of his head. “I did some snooping around on the internet myself and there are definitely other people who are going through this. I'm willing to bet most people probably want to be normal again. A couple of the tweets have back-peddled and said it was a joke buuuut.”

But he isn't buying that. Neither am I.

“Hopeful answer? With the magic of friendship anything is possible!” I declare in the most saccharine sweet voice I can manage whilst grinning like an idiot. My expression quickly grows dour. “Honest answer? This is so far beyond our level of genetic engineering we may as well be cave men banging rocks together by contrast.”

“Eh, I'm cool with it,” Dust says with a shrug as she knocks back her beer. “I would say everypony should just roll with it, but I know that's not going to happen. We're going to have a lot of ponies freaking out in... what would you guess? Three, four days based on how fast things are going?”

“We're going to need to get organized!” Ivory declares. “Not just to let everyone who's changing know that they aren't alone and cheer them up, but to let everyone else know about us too! We need should set the tone for the big reveal instead of letting it happen by mistake. That way the element of surprise will be on our side!”

“Which means exposing ourselves, which we'll need to be really careful about,” I say. “People will want a reason for why this is happening and we don't have one yet. At least not a reason that amounts to anything beyond wild speculation.”

“The best kind of speculation,” Surprise nods sagely.

I give her a questioning look. She just grins. Geeze Ivory seems even more loopy than usual. Maybe this transformation is messing with our minds as well? That's a pretty scary thought. No one likes the idea of having their personality altered against their will. Though that would explain the name slip-ups that we keep having.

“Aaanyway I think trying to organize over the internet would be a good idea. Anyone who doesn't know what's going on will just think we're crazy and those in the know will be all too aware of what's happening to them,” I reason. “Once things have calmed down a little we try going public all at once. But like Surprise said, we want to try to be quick about it. I think it would be a good idea if you start working on a press release or something right away, Surprise.”

Ivory giggles, reaches into her mane, and pulls out... a fake mustache? She sticks it under her nose and begins to rub her hands together menacingly. “I'll start plotting right now! I've got my plotting mustache and everything!”

Everyone just stares at her blankly as she sneaks off to fetch her laptop. Where did she get? You know what? No. I don't want to know. My brain had officially reached its weirdness limit when I grew a pair of hippogriff ears and now any addition of impossible shenanigans are just overflowing like a too-full glass of water. You hear that hobgoblins? I have become immune to your insanity! I begin petting my tail. While stroking that lovely new appendage it occurs to me that having a bout of tittering giggles seems like a great idea so I start doing that, too. I can feel stray hairs sproining out of my mane at random angles.

Ruben coughs loudly to get my attention. I vaguely hear Silver mutter, “Well, she finally cracked. About bucking time.” My attention snaps back to reality when I get hit in the face with a couch pillow.

I sputter a bit and flail my arms around in retaliation against no one near me. “What? I'm fine! I'm cool,” I run a hand through my mane to try to smooth the rebelling hairs down. A few conform, but the rest seem to have declared a free state on the left side of my head. “Sorry, I'm just, hehe... This is a lot of stress. A lot all at once. I feel like I could just up and explode at any moment. But I, ah, hehe, I think I'll be alright. I just need to calm down a little.”

I do my best to offer a reassuring smile, but I can tell by the looks that I'm getting that it's anything but. Oh good Lord preserve me. The last thing I need right now is a complete mental breakdown on top of everything else. I finally settle on closing my eyes and just... breathing. Slowly. I can hear Dust and Silver talking about something but I'm sort of tuning it out. I really don't need any further information input right now regardless of what it's about.

Just let my mind wander. Focus on the sound of my breath. Hum a song that I like. Nice and peaceful. I feel a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth and ease my eyes open.

Ivory is less than an inch away from my face and grinning like a maniac. “Surprise!”

I give an incoherent and not at all manly shriek as my chair topples over backwards and deposits me on the floor. By the time I manage to prop myself upright Ivory is already holding her laptop aloft and looking proud of herself. And she's still wearing that absurd fake mustache.

“I finished up the website! Google trends showed that 'turning into a pony' has taken a ginormous spike in searches lately and so that's what I named the website!” Surprise says matter of factly.

When she turns the screen toward her I'm shocked to see a very professional looking home page with its own address already. How did she manage to get all this done in the past... what? Fifteen minutes?

“Surprise, how did you finish that so fast?” Steve asks. Even drunk he can tell something isn't adding up here. “And normally registering a web domain takes what? Weeks? Days? More than a few minutes.”

“Hehehe! Oh don't worry about that! I made this site a long time ago!” Surprise replies brightly.

“But this pony thing just started yesterday,” Steve counters, looking increasingly confused.

“Yep!” Ivory chirps back.

Either Ivory just happened to own a web-site about people turning into ponies or she grew a knack for casually violating causality along with her tail. I have no idea which it is, but the suggestion that my silly friend can ignore linear progression of time for giggles is mildly terrifying. Though I suppose that would be within the range of some of the physics breaking hijinks that Pinkie Pie regularly pulled off. Maybe that's just something that ponies with balloons on their ass can do?

That brings to mind my reading on pony magic and provides my brain with a blissful change of subject. “Hold on a moment here. Pony magic stuff. It is strongest in relation to a pony's special talent, right?”

I get two nods and one, “Yep!” followed by a bounce from Ivory.

“So I'm going to guess that Surprise's special talent is sneaking up on people and throwing surprise parties and things like that?” I ask.

“Yeppers!” bounce.

“Okay. Ivory has always had a knack for that sort of thing. And as a kid her hide and seek skills were unmatched in all the neighborhood. Geneva's mark probably has something to do with air currents or air pressure or something? Every time I've gone camping smoke from the fire is always blowing away from me. Even to the point that people just started to avoid sitting across from me around the fire pit,” I reason. Those actually line up really well. And that would imply that whatever this is has been going on a lot longer than what we thought at first. A disturbing notion to be sure.

“I've always been pretty athletic,” Ruben pipes up. “And I've got thing for avoiding bad weather. That's pretty similar to Lightning Dust's special talent.”

“So there's three for three,” I reply with a nod before glancing over at Steve. He's pretty wobbly by now from his alcohol intake. “Not sure about Silver, though. I couldn't find any mention of what his special talent was when I looked it up.”

Steve just shrugs apologetically. “The world may never know.”

I guess I can live with that. Three out of four with one unknown is a pretty decent result.

“Alright. So we can add 'attributes similar to the pony's special talent' to our list of common elements with the people who were afflicted,” I say. “Add that to twenty five years old and a birthday on May first. Maybe something really unusual happened on that date?”

Ah HA! A lead! It doesn't take very long to look up that particular moment in history and discover that pretty much nothing particularly relevant took place. Some stuff about the Croatian war. A guy from Australia scored a bunch of points for a thing. And a musical called 'On the Waterfront' opened at some theater in New York. I can't help but feel a little kicked in the balls over that one. I was hoping for... geeze, I don't know. Something? Massive unexplained neutrino pulse maybe? Unusual comet? It looks like just another unremarkable day in human history.

Our conversation rambles around in circles for a while and Surprise and Dust start making brony inside jokes back and forth at each other. At this point I really have no idea what's going on and I decide to throw in the towel. “I think I'm going to call it a night everyone,” I sigh.

“Everypony,” Ivory corrects.

I decide that it would be best to just ignore that and continue. “It'll probably be a good idea to pick up some supplies tomorrow before we start looking less like really good cosplayers and more like freakish mutants. Or adorable cartoon horses. Or whatever.”

Steve grumbles something to the effect of 'same difference'. Clearly he's still sore about this whole mess. I can't hold that against him.

We say our goodbyes and I make the trip home. This time around I hold onto my tail during all door-transitions to prevent it from leaping into any more painful positions just to spite me. I hurry through the lobby toward my apartment hoping against all hope that I won't run into anyone along the way. If I had been thinking clearly I would have taken the stairs instead of the elevator, but I'm sure those dastardly hobgoblins must have sabotaged my mental process. Which of course means I bump into Mrs. McCullough in the elevator. Glorious.

She's a nice old lady, if a bit batty and with more cats under her care than I think the health codes would probably allow. But every apartment complex needs at least one crazy cat-lady right? Seems the cosmos agrees since Mrs. McCullough is our resident felineophile. Or whatever you call someone who really likes cats.

“Mmm, that's an awfully funny looking get up,” the old woman says as she leans in close to inspect my very realistic looking tail. I quickly drop it and let it flop down behind me. My treacherous tail decides that this would be a great time to begin whipping back and forth of its own accord. “Do you mind if I touch it?”

“Oh, ah, I would rather you didn't,” I reply, trying my best to avoid seeming overly nervous for no good reason. After all, I clearly just got back from a costume party and I'm certainly not turning into an alien cartoon character! Hahahah! Ha. “It's a bit fragile and I really don't want it getting broken.”

That's a great excuse! I'm sure she won't see through that one.

“You smell like wet cat,” the old woman harrumphs.

What.

The ding! of the elevator rescues me from impending doom.

“Ah haha! Here's my floor nice talking to you gotta go!” I laugh nervously and bolt out into the hall. I can feel her gaze drilling into my back as my tail flips around in ways that a costume prop really shouldn't. Say what you want about Mrs. McCullough, but she isn't stupid.

Once my apartment door is shut behind me and Soundwave is rubbing on my legs I finally get the chance to catch a breather. I grab my tail and point at it accusingly. “You're trying to get me killed, aren't you?”

The end of the treasonous appendage twitches in reply.

I narrow my eyes at it. “I'm onto your game.”

After such a taxing day I decide to head straight to bed. As soon as my hair tie comes off my mane poofs back into its perfect Geneva style despite being wet, bound together, and crushed under my hat for several hours. Speaking of crushed I begin massaging my poor abused ears. I really don't relish the idea of cutting holes for them in my hats, but by the same token I'm not about to just stop wearing hats due to something as trivial as having my species magically altered.

A guy has to have priorities after all.

Once I'm settled into bed Soundwave begins pouncing on the end of my tail as it swishes around under the blankets. I'm going to have to hang onto that stupid thing all night, aren't I? With the tail-pouncing crisis temporarily averted I start talking to the ceiling.

“I've got to admit that I'm at a loss here. I'm pretty okay with the whole sovereignty and trusting thing, but seriously. What is going on? What's the point of people turning into alien cartoon characters? Am I going to wake up as a hippogriff in the next few days? This is just... geeze, I don't know. I don't even know what to say. Or ask. Or do. I really hope that a sudden change in species doesn't preclude me from our deal because if it does I'm calling shenanigans. This is all totally out of my hands. Or talons. Or whatever kinds of forelimbs I'll have when it's all said and done.”

“I'm glad I haven't completely lost my mind over this. Silver Lining seems to be taking it really hard. Surprise and Dust are... I'm calling them by their pony names again aren't I? I think that's what bothers me the most about this. My mind is obviously changing. Will I even still be me? Am I even me anymore right now? Have I always been like this, but I just didn't know it until I started gaining magical cutie marks and growing a mane? It's all so surreal.”

“I know there's the whole promise of new bodies and stuff, but that isn't supposed to be happening until I'm dead and the world's busy ending. And while the good book skimps a bit on details I'm pretty sure that magical talking pastel colored horses wasn't what I signed up for. Otherwise the whole 'armies of heaven on white horses' thing would be a bit redundant. Unless I'm expected to be someone's steed and get a coat-job. Which would just be weird and awkward.”

“I guess... If this gets even worse by tomorrow I don't know if I'll be able to face everyone. Heh... Unless I'm so unrecognizable that I just look like some crazy cosplayer who wandered into a church. That might actually be kind of fun and vaguely enlightening. I think I might take a shot at that. Introduce myself as Geneva. See if I get tossed out on my ears for dressing in a heathen costume.”

I can't help but laugh. Despite the despair, the fear, the uncertainty, and the looming specter of madness I can't help but laugh. What else can I do? As awful as all this is the absurdity of the whole situation leaves me giggling. One way or another tomorrow is going to be very interesting.

Wherein Interesting Things Happen

Day Two
Twenty Three Days Remain

My alarm wakes me up this time. I had been dreaming about moving away from home to the university dorms except the only clothing that I packed were a bunch of woman’s underwear. Normally I would chalk this up to the usual nonsense that nocturnal visions conjure out of the detritus of my memories but today I have the nagging sense that something is off. I pat at myself and discover a conspicuous absence.

In my panic I end up in a tangled heap on my floor. Trying to leap straight out of bed was probably a bad idea in retrospect.

After disentangling myself from my blankets and sheets I head straight for the bathroom and find myself greeted in the mirror by a woman that I don't know. She looks vaguely familiar. Could probably be my sister if I had one. Her hawk-themed red mane with black and white bars running along the tips is certainly the same cartoonish hair that had staged an invasion of my follicles yesterday. And her huge yellow irises with black scalar scarcely gives her an incredibly intense looking stare.

I notice that my ears are laying back and I'm wearing a grimace. “May as well get this over with,” I sigh and pull my briefs off. Oddly enough the first thing I notice is that in addition to the longer ridge of red hair on my tail a shorter coat of light brown fur has sprouted and migrated up the alien appendage and onto my hips. Despite my sleek new fur coat that is slowly advancing toward my legs my cutie mark is still plainly visible. I guess the color shows up on the fur as well as the skin? Makes sense, how else would you be able to see the mark on the cartoon ponies?

The thought of cartoon ponies having anything to do with reality sends me into another bout of tittering giggles, but I manage to reign it in before it progresses to full on shrieks of manic laughter. Which I good. I don't want to wake the neighbors early Sunday morning.

Okay, so what's next? My nipples have apparently decided to migrate south for the winter and are now chilling by my legs. Which... I guess is where they are on horses? I reach down a hand begin feeling around. No sign of my new- oh wait, there it is. That's way further back than a vagina would be on a human isn't it? My mind wanders back to some of the images I had found on Google the other night and I find myself humming to the thought and feel of having a nice strong stallion back there giving me-ooooh ho ho look at that time for a shower!

I crank the water on and step inside. My mind is whirling with the realization that my gender has been altered along with my sex. The mental alterations creeping into my brain go deep. Deeper than I had dared to consider. That's more than a little jarring. The fantasies I had been entertaining leave me shaking as the warm water rolls off me and drips down my slicked mane.

“I don't know if I can take this. This is going too far!” I cry to the ceiling. “I don't know why this seems more violating than having my species changed against my will, but it does. Being a guy is sort of a major part of my identity as a person,” the lack of familiar anatomy between my legs mocks me. Not anymore it isn't. Lance is slowly dissolving away and pretty soon only Geneva will be left. Will my memories be lost too? Will I completely forget who I was? Or will I be Geneva with Lance's memories? Both outcomes are terrifying for different reasons.

It's almost comical how long it takes me to realize that I have hooves now. Rust red hooves instead of feet with more mottled brown fur slowly creeping up my legs. The bone structure of my legs is changing too, becoming more equine. Compared to my other discoveries hooves are no big deal. Those I was fully expecting. But the crushing blow to my physical and mental identity? Not so much. I clop my new giant middle toes a few times on the shower floor. Thankfully my shower has a seat in it, otherwise it would probably be hard to stand on the slick plastic.

How long do I sit there staring at my hooves? I don't know. The water growing cold is the factor that finally snaps me out of my mental haze. As soon as I start thinking again that awful feeling of helplessness begins crushing the life out of me, pressing me down and insisting that I should just give up. My very soul is being eroded away, why even bother continuing? I'm completely alone. And carrying this burden alone is impossible.

“I can't do this on my own,” I admit to the ceiling. “You're going to have to carry me. And I know you will. You always do.”

I'd like to say say that the despondency evaporated like frost when touched by the sun. I'd like to say that all of the transformations that had been overtaking my body and mind were instantly reversed. But neither of those things happened. There's some small inkling of hope that I'll make it through this somehow, but it feels so inadequate compared to the insanity settling over me.

I drag myself out of the shower, use half my towel supply to dry myself due to all the new hair and fur I'm sporting, and start getting dressed. How on earth am I supposed to do this? Shoes are going to be basically impossible. My feet and legs are all the wrong shape, so I'm going to have to go without. And I don't want to cram my tail down my pant leg. That hurts and besides which it would ruin the whole cosplayer vibe I'm going to shoot for. In a flash of inspiration I put a pair of briefs on backwards and pull my tail through the hole intended for anatomy I no longer have. I follow suit with a pair of jeans and use a belt to secure them. Ha ha! I've successfully put on pants despite having a tail!

I revel in my small triumph and then pick out a shirt and jacket, making sure to select something I don't typically wear. My church is a bit on the casual side, but I always liked to dress up at least a little as my dapper hat collection should imply. Sadly any of my head wear is out of the question today. My hats are fairly iconic and any of them would be recognized. Now fully dressed I inspect myself in my mirror. I honestly doubt that anyone I know would recognize me. I'll have to pitch my voice up a bit to avoid suspicions, though. Or just avoid talking too much. Either of those should work.

With a bit of time left I grab a light breakfast and look up some information on hippogriffs. Who knows, it might come in handy? Authoritative sounding mythological facts will help make for a better excuse when someone inevitably asks what I'm supposed to be dressed up as. Much to my surprise I discover that fake ears controlled by thought are actually a thing that people buy for cosplay! That adds another layer of plausibility. There are tails too, but they really don't compare to the real thing. So long as kids don't decide to yank on my spine extension I should be fine. Time for operation Ruffle Some Feathers to commence!

I park a comfortable distance from the church and walk the rest of the way since I don't want my car to be recognized. It's uncanny how natural walking on hooves feels, but I can tell a bipedal gait is going to be getting really unwieldy eventually. I try to act as natural as a person with a tail possibly can, giving a friendly wave when people turn and stare. Just pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary and people will assume that nothing is out of the ordinary. Sort of like Fight Club. You just don't talk about it.

More than a few people stop dead in their tracks or step aside as I walk past, eyes following me and trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Up the front stairs I clop and offer a kind, “Good morning,” to the fellow greeting at the door. I think his name is Peter? I'm notoriously awful at remembering names. But that should serve me well since I'm Geneva and I don't know anyone here. Wink wink.

Peter looks away from the gentlemen he was talking to and begins to say, “Good morning! Welcome to...” he kinda trails off when he sees me, one hand holding a church bulletin halfway between himself and me. I smile and flick one of my ears. Much to his credit he manages to gather his bearings. “Uh. You aren't panning on causing any trouble, are you miss?”

I give a good natured laugh. “Nah, I'm just going to sit near the back so I won't be too disruptive. Getting this look right takes a lot of work and I didn't want to take it apart just to come here.”

Technically true! Taking it apart would require major reconstructive surgery and since my transformation may or may not be the result of wily alien hobgoblin magical genetic engineering that might not even help.

Peter is skeptical, but he nods slowly and hands me the bulletin. “Alright, enjoy the service.”

A quick thank you later I'm inside and sitting down at the back wall. I'm still pretty early since I didn't want to come trotting in here at the last minute and shock everyone. If I'm just a fixture at the back of the church when people are still coming in that should give them time to get use to me. Maybe. That's the plan at least. The band is up front practicing for the actual service. Full band, mind you. Guitar, bass, keyboard, drum set, the works. It's a contemporary church, you see. No pews or stained glass windows or anything like that. The sort of church that tends to attract fewer people who might fall over dead at any moment. Which of course means a younger congregation, which of course means more children running around.

Running around is exactly what the children are doing. Sunday school won't start for another half an hour or so and that means kids are still zooming about between the rows of chairs. They're laughing, giggling, and generally being children. I find myself smiling longingly at them. It sure would be nice to have some foals of my own some da-Gah! I stop, take a deep breath, and focus my mind. I've been female for a couple of hours and I'm already thinking about having kids? Children in the middle of whatever the hell is happening to me and who knows how many other people is pretty much the worst idea possible right now.

I'm so caught up reigning in my hormones that I don't even notice three little munchkins stop to stare at me. “You look weird,” comes the declaration followed by some giggling.

My eyes pop open and I hear some little gasps. Guess they haven't ever seen a lady with hawk eyes before. “Well thank you!” I reply brightly. I know these kids. Stella, Aaron, and Kylee. I actually ran their Sunday School class for a little while. Aaron begins reaching for the end of my tail and I flick it away, causing his eyes to widen a bit.

“You can move it?” he asks curiously. “How do you do that?”

“It's a really fancy tail,” I reply matter of factly. The little boy nods in understanding as though I had actually answered his question.

“Can I touch it?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Your hair looks pretty!”

Wuh oh. More of the kids have spotted me and I'm starting to become the center of attention. Parents are apparently off busy chatting with each other or seeing to various church functions. If they weren't then the children would probably be getting herded elsewhere and warned to leave the weird cosplaying woman alone.

“Alright, you can touch it,” I finally concede as I swish my tail out where they swarm of munchkins can reach it with their sticky child fingers. “But just don't pull on it, alright?”

I'm pleasantly surprised when they don't. Instead they all start petting it as if it were an exotic and fragile fuzzy animal. It actually feels really nice and I can't help but start grinning like an idiot.

Aaron pokes at me again. “What are you supposed to be, lady?”

“Well, my name isn't 'Lady'. It's Geneva. And I'm a hippogriff,” I reply to several sets of blank stares. One of the children begins to giggle and I quickly make the clarification to correct her likely mistake. “Not a hippopotamus. They aren't related. A hippogriff is a cross between a lion, a horse, and an eagle.”

“Is that why you have hooves on your feet?”

“How come you don't have any wings?”

“Hehe! The poof on your tail is soft!”

“I really like your mane!”

I can't help but laugh at the attention and enthusiasm. That's kids for you. You drop something in front of them and they just take it as face value. Unless of course it's another child who is somehow outside of the group norm, then they get ostracized. Thankfully I don't fall under that category.

“Yes, that's why I'm wearing hooves. And I don't have any wings because they aren't finished yet,” I say. Ha! They sure aren't finished yet. I wonder if they'll start growing in today or tomorrow? My left eye twitches ever so slightly at that thought, but once again I shoo away the looming specter of mental breakdown. I already had one of those in the shower. I don't have time for another.

One of the children is in the process of lifting up my hoof to look at the bottom of it when the fun police arrives. The officer of the law today is a older woman I recognize the face of, but I can't place her name for the life of me. Her expression is no nonsense and she's got that mother bear vibe going on. The sort of look a parent gets when they think someone is putting their children in danger.

“You kids head off to class,” she says in a tone that bides no argument. “I have to talk with this young lady about grown up things.”

A chorus of 'aaww...'s sound from the children and little Stella waves as she and the others scamper off. “Bye Geneva!”

When I start to wave back, the woman-I-still-can't-recall-the-name-of levels a withering glare at me.

“I don't know what you're playing at, young lady,” she hisses. “But you will stay away from the children. You're not going to be putting any crazy ideas into their heads, do I make myself clear?”

I shrink down into my chair as my ears go flat. Geeze this feels awful. I wasn't doing anything creepy, was I? Though I guess in this context just being way out of the norm would seem threatening. Thankfully I've been doing the church thing long enough to know just the right cards to play and words to say.

“Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. They all came up to me, you know how kids are,” I reply lamely. “I'm just going through a whole lot right now. And I'm really looking for some answers. I was kind of hoping I might be able to find them here.”

That did it. Her expression softens and with a sigh she sits down next to me. I had just transitioned from 'creepy cosplayer' to 'person who needs religious counseling.'

“Listen, miss... Geneva was it?” she begins. “I don't want to make you feel unwelcome here. Far from it. But you have to admit that you do look a little strange in that costume.”

“You don't know the half of it...” that gets an odd look and so I continue. I can feel a nagging sort of resolution building inside me, pushing me toward action. I only consider it for a moment before deciding to act on it. “I promise I'm not here to make trouble. Or to do anything weird at the kids. Or encourage anyone to start worshiping the devil or anything crazy like that. I just want to stay for the service and then talk to someone about what I'm going through.”

What I'm really going through.

There. I said it. I'm going to put my trust in someone who isn't inexplicably turning into a cartoon character. And I hope I don't get burned because of it.

The woman gives me a sympathetic look. “Alright honey, I'll take your word for it. I'm still not sure how I feel about the kids being near you though. That costume is a little too lifelike for my tastes. It's downright creepy is what it is.”

My attempt to assuage her fears with a few reassuring words is cut short before it even begins by my treacherous tail flipping back and forth of its own accord. I grab the blasted thing to try to hold it still, but the tip keeps twitching. Then my ears pin back and I give a sheepish smile as I feel nervous tension coiling in my gut.

I swear to God my tail is trying to get me killed.

“Ah. Hahaha! Sorry. This thing kind of has a mind of its own. Still working out some of the bugs,” I say awkwardly before shooting my tail a death-glare. It finally stops wriggling around.

“Mm hmm,” the mystery woman replies skeptically. “Well, I'm Linda. And I'm sure someone would be happy to talk to you after service.”

Linda! That's right, she's Stella's grand mother. No wonder she was giving me the stink-eye. Her grand daughter had been playing with my mane.

“Of course it just wouldn't be proper to have pastor Chuck talk to you one on one,” Linda muses.

Wait, what? Why not? I've talked to Chuck plenty of times alone and otherwise.

“You being a woman and, well. You know,” Linda continues, waving one hand dismissively.

What. Seriously? Is she afraid that I'm going to try to seduce the pastor with my wicked cosplayer charm or something? Chuck is married and I'm pretty well over twice my age. The, uh, the fact that I'm finding myself attracted to pony stallions probably makes him safe, too. She must be able to tell that this is bothering me, I can see it in her expression.

“Don't worry dear, if you want to speak to the pastor then there just needs to be someone else in the room for accountability's sake. I'm sure you understand,” Linda assures me pleasantly.

“Of course, I understand,” I reply in kind, doing my best to keep my voice level. I can feel the irritation and offense creeping about in my mind. As a guy I could confide whatever I wanted with Chuck and it would just be between himself and me. But the moment I've got a vagina? Hoo! Now all bets are off. I might be an untrustworthy female of some kind. Some part of me understands that it's a safety precaution ostensibly to ward off sex scandals, but I can't help but feel demeaned by it. Mostly because it seems about as likely as the pastor getting the lovings on with a gay man in his office.

My tail is lashing about in anger. Which really isn't helping.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, nodding slowly. I need to calm down here. Blowing up at the Patriarchy isn't going to win me any support. Eventually my tail settles down as well. It must be like my ears. The thing just responds to my emotional state without me really putting into conscious thought into it.

“Thank you, Linda. Having someone to talk to will be really nice,” I finally manage to say, my voice completely sincere.

The elderly woman responds with a nod. “I'm glad I could help, Geneva. You enjoy the service now.”

And with that I'm alone again. A few children briefly return to pet my tail until they are run off by their parents and I get a few positive remarks regarding my 'costume'. One of the band members even has me pose for a picture with him. Several people give me scrutinizing looks before deciding to ignore my existence. But otherwise the next half an hour or so is remarkably uneventful. The music starts up and I'm pleasantly surprised that my voice isn't totally shot from the gradual metamorphosis. I'm pretty sure that I can hit some high notes that I usually can't without my voice cracking.

Then comes the fun part. Meet and greet. For the next fifteen minutes church members are supposed to mill around, chatter with friends and acquaintances they haven't seen in the past week, and say hello to any new folks or visitors. I may as well have a giant flashing neon sigh above my head. It isn't every week that someone shows up in the building with 'animatronic' ears and tail. I find that introducing myself as Geneva comes really naturally and no one shows any sign of recognizing me. Not even several long time friends. I'm sure whether to feel hurt or relieved.

I end up explaining what a hippogriff is at least a dozen times. Half horse half griffin symbol of love triumphing over the impossible. No, the wings aren't finished yet. Please don't touch the tail. Yes you can buy ears similar to these online. No you can't try mine on. I'm too attached to them, you see. It's for a thing, a lot of people are doing it. Yeah, you might see a few others around town. Though things get really interesting when my childhood friend Lewis starts talking to me.

“So you're Geneva, right? I'm Lewis. That's a really cool costume. Pretty gutsy wearing it here. So, uh,” Lewis pauses, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking everywhere except at me. There's a slight flush to his cheeks.

Oh God help me. I recognize that body language. He thinks I'm cute. I'm sitting here hanging onto my tail with a death grip and staring like a deer in the headlights of a semi. I can feel a manic smile growing on my face and hairs popping out of position in my mane.

“So there's this young adult Bible study tomorrow night over at my friend Lance's apartment,” Lewis continues. “I was wondering if maybe you might like to come?”

I make a strangled squawking noise that's vaguely hawk like and rather awkward. You might say it sounded hawkward.

Teehee, hawkward. I titter at my clever pun.

In light of all the rampant insanity that had been laying siege against every rampart of normalcy in my life I completely forgot that the study was at my apartment on Monday. Would I even be vaguely human looking by Monday night? Maybe I should just shut off all my lights and pretend I'm not there. Or flee town and hide in the woods for the rest of forever.

Another hair springs free from my normally ordered mane.

I swear to God it makes a cartoony springing noise when it does.

Lewis is starting to look uncertain. “So, uuhh... There'll be free pizza?”

“That sounds GREAT!” I reply a little more forcefully than I had intended to. “Just great. A really great thing to do with a great new friend! You just tell me the address of this other friend of yours that I don't know and I'll meet you there!”

Lewis is absolutely bewildered by my odd behavior and gives me the address to my own apartment. I don't think I'll have any trouble finding it.

At about this time everyone is directed back to their seats and pastor Chuck begins the announcements. I hurry out the back of the sanctuary and into the lady's room. Thankfully it's empty.

“Come on Geneva, breath,” I mutter as I rest my head up against one of the mirrors. I turn the water on and begin splashing myself in the face. Calm. Calm. Just calm down. Everything is going to be fine. I can figure this out. It isn't the end of the world. You know these people and they'll listen to you. Right? Right. With my resolution and determination slowly rising I face my reflection again.

I spot a pair of bright lavender eyes and an absurdly large grin staring over my shoulder in the mirror.

“Surprise!”

I will admit that my shriek was very girly.

Surprise is dressed in baggy sweats with her tail stuffed down her pants and a beany over her head to cover her ears. She had also somehow figured out how to cram her hooves into shoes. It couldn't possibly be comfortable.

“Wow! Looking good Geneva!” the insane poofy-maned woman giggles.

“Surprise,” I hiss as soon as my heart rate downgrades to 'Olympic Marathon' from 'Running For Your Life From an Angry Moose'. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to use the bathroom! And since you were in here anyway I decided to say hi!” Surprise replies matter of factly.

My left eye twitches at her non-answer. I'm pretty sure she didn't know that I attend here. But apparently that won't stop her from popping out of the aether to scare my tail off. Speaking of, the whole thing is frizzed up like a racoon's.

I take a deep breath and count to ten before speaking again. “What did you want to talk about, Surprise?”

“Oooh, Dusty and I decided to stop by that one feed store and get a bunch of neat stuff while you're here! We figured you wouldn't be interested in that since you've got that whole lion/eagle/rawr! vibe going on!” Surprise babbles. “After we're done there we're going for a CostCo run and you can meet us there!”

“Eerr, right,” I reply, still a little shell shocked from the emotional whiplash I was suffering. “That sounds good Surprise.”

“Okay, buh by!” she chirps back before bouncing off through a door and closing it behind her. “Tra luh la luh la~!”

That particular door leads to a supply closet. Fearful of what I would find I open it up after a few tense minutes and discover that it's empty save for cleaning supplies. Of course it is. We all seem to be subjected to some degree of cartoon logic. Surprise is just cranked up to eleven.

Once I feel that I've managed to settle myself down I return to the sanctuary and slip into the back row again. I sneak back to me seat as quietly as I can manage since they were praying already. Thankfully I don't think anyone noticed me. Chuck is a frumpy, scholarly looking old man missing most of his hair with a few liver spots lurking about his scalp. Really not the most impressive looking man, but I've had some fun bouncing ideas off him. Very approachable sort of fellow. I make a sour face. Unless of course you're female, apparently.

“This morning we'd like to look at the fourth chapter of Zachariah,” Chuck says as he fiddles with his notes behind the podium. He's the old fashioned sort who typical avoids computerized presentations. “Verse six. Where we read, 'And then he answered and spoke to me saying, “This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel saying: Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit says the Lord of hosts. Who are you, oh great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plane. And he shall bring forth the cap stone with cries of grace, grace unto it!”'”

Chuck looks out toward a few hundred sets of eyes and continues. “Have you ever been working on a project and you got to the place where you felt like there's no use even trying anymore. It's just too big. The task is too great. You simply can't do it.”

It feels like someone grabs me by the heart and gives it a twist.

“Have you ever felt overwhelmed by your circumstances and felt like you couldn't take one more step. That you might as well just give up and quite,” Chuck continues, giving his head a shake to punctuate the last word. “If you have then you understand the feelings of Zerubbabel.”

My skin feels prickly with sweat and my eyes misty with tears. I know, rationally, that this sort of thing happens all the time. People hear from messages what they need or want to hear. It doesn't mean that something supernatural is happening. They just forget all the times when a sermon isn't very relevant to them and remember vividly when it is. But I really don't care about that right now. Because this is exactly the encouragement that I need to hear.

Pastor Chuck goes on at length about what to do when life feels overwhelming. All the while I sit in my chair and quietly cry. I feel for all the world as though my hopes and fears had managed to make it past the ceiling and now I was getting my answer. I also receive a box of tissues and a hug from someone sitting near me. Those are nice too.

The sermon ends and a final song is played by the band. I don't really register it at all. I'm just staring at the box of tissues in my talons. Yeah, talons. At some point my finger nails decided to turn black and start to thicken. A few yellow scales have already appeared further up my arms. But this time I don't feel it weighing me down. I'm not in this alone. I don't have to do this alone. I've got friends I can trust. Dear friends who can encourage me. And dear friends that I can help to encourage, too. Hehe. That's what the magic of friendship is all about, right?

Once the last song is over Chuck stands up again to speak. “If anyone has any problems that they can't handle on their own or situations in their life that feel overwhelming come up and speak to one of the deacons and ask for prayer,” he gestures at several older men standing at the front of the sanctuary.

I'm walking forward before I even realize that I stood up. Walking on two legs feels a little more uncomfortable than it did this morning, but that's the last thing on my mind right now. The tissue box is crushed tight in my claws and I'm pretty sure my face is a complete mess of snot and tears by now. I can't even begin to guess how many eyes must be on me. They don't see a weird cosplayer anymore. They see a broken person who needs comfort.

“Problems that are so bad that you don't even want to think about them because you've tried everything and nothing seems to be working,” Chuck continues, holding out a hand in my direction. “Well, it's time to let someone else try.”

By the time I make it up front there's already someone waiting for me. When deacon Geoffrey asks about the nature of my problem I give a nervous, sobbing laugh and say that if I can talk with the pastor about it that would be great. He ends up giving a generic sort of prayer about my troubles being overcome. I sit down there in the front row and wait as other people walk up to be prayed for. Some look nervous, others embarrassed, others emotionally crushed like I am.

No other people who are transforming into alien pony catbirds, though. How fortunate for them.

Eventually things slow down and the various parishioners filter out of the sanctuary. Geoffrey and Chuck lead me back to his office for what I have resolved will be a calm, rational discussion where I carefully outline what I'm going through and what I'm worried about.

“So how can we help you, Miss Geneva?” Chuck asks with a kind smile.

I must be emotionally drained at this point. I was worried that I would start sobbing incoherently as soon as I try to speak. But aside from a few halting, gasping breaths it comes easily.

“Th-This isn't a costume,” I say once I manage to gather up the courage.

I'm met with silence and looks of confusion, so I continue.

“All of this,” I hike up a sleeve to let them see where mottled brown fur and yellow scales are running down my arm with all the inevitability of the rising tide. “Is real. It isn't a costume. And I have no idea why it's happening to me.”

Chuck and Geoffrey exchange a glance and it's the latter who speaks up first. “Well. I can see why you're feeling overwhelmed.”

I can't help but give a little tittering giggle at that. I've shared the knowledge of my affliction with someone else and they aren't completely flipping out. That takes a tremendous amount of pressure off me. Like Surprise said, choose the time and place and fashion of how word gets out. A sympathetic audience helps a lot.

“Oh! And my name isn't Geneva, not really,” I say. “I'm actually Geneva.”

More blank looks.

I can't help but face palm. “Sorry. This... this whatever it is? That name is part of it. And I'm sure it's changing my mind, too. Before I started this insane transformation I wasn't Geneva, I was Geneva,” okay, this isn't working. I need to try another less direct route. “Pastor, I know I said that I would bring back that commentary I borrowed last Tuesday, but I've been really distracted by all of this. Sorry.”

That does it. Chuck's eyes go wide. “...Lance?”

“Yes!” I laugh and point at him. “Yes! That was my name! Geneva!”

Goddamn it.

The pastor takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Are you really a...?”

“Woman now?” I finish the sentence and my eyes fall to my knees. Knees which are further up on my legs than knees have any right to be. Stupid rebellious knees. “Yeah. I woke up to that this morning. It was pretty jarring.”

“I think you're going to have to explain this from the top, Lance,” Geoffrey says.

And so I do.

The birthdays. The names. The silly pony cartoon. The connection to the special talents. The discovery of the alien DNA. Everything. Everything we know so far. Which, frankly, isn't much.

“I remember that,” Geoffrey laughs. “Every year at the family camp you smoked out anyone who sat across from you. We ended up just declaring that the demilitarized zone and scooted the benches out of the way. Do you know how you do that?”

I give a shrug while picking at my nails. They're still getting longer. Slowly, sure. But its noticeable. “If the cartoon is any indication it's 'magic'.”

That gets some concerned looks.

“I know what you're thinking,” I add quickly, waving my hands in a 'slow down there' fashion. “The sort of magic you're thinking of was all various types of divination. This is more like an alternate set of physical laws. Like Chronicles of Narnia sort of stuff.”

Both men relax at that. Chronicles of Narnia are, thankfully, only on the banned book list of the wackiest of whack jobs.

“You think this might be related to another world? Like an alternate universe?” Chuck asks, clearly taking the comparison to a classic work of children's fiction far more literally than I had intended.

I open my mouth to correct him only to close it again.

“That... actually might be possible,” I admit. “No less crazy than any of the other explanations. But it's still another one to toss into the saddlebags.”

“Into the what?” Geoffrey asks.

“The saddlebags,” I clarify, looking at him as if he were missing something obvious. Because he totally is. “You throw a bunch of slips of paper with ideas written on them into a set of saddlebags, shake them up, and then draw one out at random. That's a normal figure of speech. Right?”

Blank looks are my only reply. I guess not.

The awkward silence is broken by my phone beeping to remind me that I'm supposed to be meeting up with Surprise and Lightning Dust soon. “Oh geeze I lost track of time again. I've got something really important that I need to do.”

“That's just fine,” Chuck says with a kind smile. “We'll pray over you and send you on your way.”

And so they do. It's... nice. A little bit touch and go since this is unfamiliar territory. After all, it isn't so often that you pray for someone to be returned to their true self after being magically altered. But it's the thought that counts. And as I'm heading back to my car to meet with my friends I can't help but feel encouraged. I'm really glad I got that off my chest.

Little did I know that debate ignited as soon as I left.

“We have to tell someone Chuck,” Geoffrey insisted. He wanted to prove his point further, so he shook a finger too. “The Center for Disease Control. Or the Department of Homeland Security. Someone who would know what to do.”

“Absolutely not,” Chuck replied. His mind had been made up on the issue. “What he did-”

“She did,” Geoffrey corrected.

“Whatever! What Lance did took a mountain of courage making himself vulnerable like that,” Chuck said. “And I'm not going to breach his trust on the matter. If he wants to tell someone else then he will and that's his business.”

“But- but what if it's contagious! What then!?” Geoffrey countered.

“Then I guess I'll have to worry about taking care of a herd instead of a flock,” Chuck laughed. “Come on Geoffrey! Lance has been coming here since before he could walk and he's been showing at least one sign of it for years. If this were some kind of disease we would all be in trouble already.”

Geoffrey's eyes narrowed. “And what if this is the work of Satan?”

Chuck sighed and shook his head. “All I saw in here was a devout young man who's terrified and looking for support. I don't know who's work is doing this to him, but I know what OUR work is. To feed the hungry and bind up the broken. This story will not leave this room. Do I make myself clear?”

The deacon glared at the floor in silence.

The pastor didn't relent. “I said do I make myself clear?”

“Yes pastor. I won't tell anyone.”

“Good.”

Author's Notes:

This chapter will get some interesting comments I'm sure. It wasn't my original plan to have Lance/Geneva be devout, but when I checked the day the 3rd of May 2020 falls on and realized that she would be in super-cosplayer mode on a Sunday I just couldn't resist.

I see these stories as being about how a normal person deals with extraordinary and stressful situations. And turning to the spiritual is a pretty important part of the lives of many human beings. My goal was to paint things in such a way that a non-religious person can read about Geneva's experience and say 'This is obviously just wishful thinking, but I can see how it would make her feel better,' while a religious person would read about the same experience and come away with a very different conclusion.

In case anyone is curious I did a Google search on some sermon archives with the intent of listening to it with how Geneva would react in mind. The first one on the list had some busted audio that was giving me a head ache, but I found this one in the suggested box and used it as the basis of the sermon in the story. Credit for the inspiration of course goes to Mr Smith.

Wherein There Are Free Samples

Ah CostCo. Is there any finer place to spend several hundred dollars without realizing it? Probably not. I pull into the warehouse store's sprawling parking lot and instantly spot Surprise. She's bouncing up and down a few hundred feet away waving at me while everyone else within eyeshot is trying desperately to ignore her.

Is she yelling my name at me?

Yep. She sure is.

A smile and a shake of the head is all I dignify her silliness with. I can't figure that girl out, honestly I can't. She and Dust are both taking this whole mess in stride. A brony thing maybe? Down comes my mirror again to check my own 'progress'. Most obvious new addition? My lips have turned yellow, no doubt the start of a beak. Which I suppose would explain why they've been feeling so dry all of a sudden. Heh, no amount of lip balm is going to solve this problem.

Disappointment in no small measure begins nettling at my mind. After the message this morning I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, I would be met with a solution to my crisis that's just as supernatural as the affliction itself. No dice, apparently. But I'm not giving up. Not after what I had heard today. Not when I'm sure now more than ever that I'm far from alone in this struggle.

“Delivered from trouble or delivered through it,” I say to the strange woman looking back at me in the mirror, flashing my best confident grin. “And it looks like I'm smashing my way clean through! Try to keep up.”

“Hey Geneva,” Dust calls out casually. She's leaning against her car in an outfit similar to Surprise's. Makes sense that she would have plenty of track stuff considering her job. “So you decided to just flaunt it, huh? That's pretty edgy. You aren't worried about the men in black showing up to drag you away?”

Under her cocksure grin and teasing tone I can pick up some sense of worry. “I was sitting in the middle of a few hundred religious folks for over an hour, some of which are convinced that Harry Potter is a work of the devil. Everyone ignored me, laughed it off, or asked for pictures,” I reply. Dust's undercurrent of doubt is already dissolving. “We look a bit out of place. But it's 'really amazing cosplayer' out of place. At worst people will assume that we're heading to a convention.”

Surprise has already got her hat off and is pulling her tail out. Where she got the fake convention passes on lanyards for us to wear I'm not going to pretend to know, so I just roll with it and put the thing on. Though I'm pretty sure she spots my baffled look.

“I thought they would come in handy!” Surprise giggles out her complete non-explanation. Of course you did, Surprise.

If Dust is phased by Surprise's antics she doesn't show it. With a shrug she slips the lanyard on and follows suit with Operation Hiding in Plain Sight. “Heh. Let's get some shopping done, Wonderbolts. Hopefully the people here can handle this much awesome in one place.”

Getting inside is a breeze. Surprise flashes her card since Dust and I recently switched teams so to speak. “Those are great costumes, by the way,” the lady milling around at the entrance checking Ids says with a genuine smile. “You're supposed to be Lightning Dust, right?”

I'm not sure if it's even possible for a self-assured grin that large to fit on someone's face. Dust strikes a pose for the woman's benefit. “The one and only! You a Wonderbolt fan?”

Wow is Dust ever in character. She writes out an autograph for the clearly amused woman and even signs it with a quick sketch of her cutie mark. Once we're on our way again her cocky grin and confidant swagger have become an unmistakable fixture. She had been a bit hammish before, but now she's positively strutting.

Though... that brings the nagging worry of mental alteration back to the forefront of my mind. Is Dust trying to act in character or is she acting in character without even noticing? Have I been acting more like Geneva? Has Surprise been acting more like-

I glance over at Surprise. She must have popped up in the middle of a small crowd clustered around a free sample table. Judging from their reactions they didn't notice her until she started shoveling cream puffs into her mouth.

Yeeeaah... It's pretty safe to say that Surprise is acting more like Surprise.

By the time the poor harried employee manages to shoo Surprise away my friend's cheeks are filled up like a squirrel's. Which I'm pretty sure isn't anatomically possible. Isn't stopping Surprise, though. The other shoppers are laughing at her antics and Surprise takes a theatrical bow before skipping away to meet up with us.

“The cream puffs are really good!” she mumbles through a mouthful of pastry. “Don't try to take too many though, or they'll get grumpy.”

Dust is just shy of being in stitches. “You're something else, you know that Surprise?”

Surprise's ears droop. “Aaww, I am? I thought I was me!”

It takes Dust's brain a few moments to process that. I just shake my head when she looks to me for support. Don't try to make sense of Surprise. Down that road there is only madness.

I quickly discover that the main reason we're here is to buy bulk baking ingredients. It makes sense, really. This is probably the last chance we have to appear in public before we make our big reveal, so getting food that will keep until we make it into something edible is a pretty good idea. That means lots of flour, oil, sugar, beans, rice, and so on. Stuff that has to be cooked.

When we pass the coolers filled with thousands of pounds of raw meat I feel myself salivating. Oh God that smells so good. Dust and Surprise move on pretty quickly while I linger after catching a whiff of someone grilling a steak. I don't have to follow my nose very far before finding the source. Some guy begins saying something about cuts and sauce or whatever but I just pop the morsel in my mouth and start chewing.

This is bliss.

I'm almost certain that my sense of taste has changed because I never really liked steaks of any kind before. Weird, I know. But that's just how it was. I find myself wishing that it were rarer though. A lot more rare. Like... uncooked rare. Why ruin perfectly good meat by burning it first? Seems absurd to me. Just start ripping into something while it's still warm and-

“Miss?” the employee's voice snaps me back to reality. “I'm glad you enjoy the steak.”

I look down and discover that I have five little empty paper cups in my hand. With a muttered apology and an awkward (hawkward!) smile I back away from the table and start eying the various cuts of meat arrayed before me. This is a shopping trip for all of us. And this stuff will keep for a while in the freezer. And my friends already gathered up a bunch of horse food at the feed store. Which means that it's time for a little something for Geneva!

My friends give me a slightly nauseous look when I dump an armload of beef into the cart. “Oh come on,” I chide. “You two are being such herbivores.”

“You do know that cows can talk in Equestria, right?” Dust asks with an eyebrow quirk. No, I didn't know that.

“Well it sure is a good thing that this isn't Equestria and those weren't talking cows,” I reply with a toothy grin. “I'm half eaglelion. Or maybe two thirds eaglelion? Regardless of how the math divides me up I'm still sitting pretty firmly in the 'predatory omnivore' camp.”

Wait, toothy grin? I prod at my teeth with my tongue a bit. My incisors and canines feel like they've gotten meaner and pointier while my molars have gotten larger and flatter. Teeth AND a beak? Though I guess there were some pictures of Geneva smiling. So apparently griffins and hippogriffs have both.

If all my teeth started falling out I might have been able to convince myself that this is all a really vivid dream.

I'm dislodged from my absent tooth-poking by Dust waving a hand in front of my face. “Yeah, we noticed ours this morning. Come on, Surprise still wants bulk baker's chocolate.”

Can horses even eat chocolate? Or catbirds for that matter? I'm going to settle with probably and hope that I don't end up getting sick all over the rug because it if. Ah well, back to shopping.

We can't walk ten feet without someone asking for a picture.

“Oh my God, ponies!”

Case in point.

A group of guys several years our senior have us surrounded in a flash. If I had to wager a guess I would say that they look about thirty or thirty five. So would have been adult fans of the show back in the day. A bit odd as far as I'm concerned. But I never really liked the show to being with so who cares what I think, right?

Dust instantly snaps into 'Wonderbolt Superstar' mode and begins basking in attention like a lizard on a rock basks in the sun. Just... not quite. Lizards are pretty unobtrusive when it comes to basking. Dust is broadcasting her awesomeness to anyone within earshot no doubt in the hopes that more people will show up to feed her ego.

Surprise and two of the guys break into some about smiling that I don't know. The blasted thing is catchy like herpes and I'll probably have it stuck in my head for the next week. Despite not knowing the words I find myself humming along to the tune. A poke to the shoulder draws my bemused attention away from three people making complete idiots of themselves in public.

“Hey,” the brony says as I turn to face him. Older, neat shave and pretty nice looking. No stallion though. He's wearing a Friendship is Magic shirt. “I've got to admit that you've got me stumped. I recognize Lightning Dust of course. And everyone who has followed the show knows about Surprise since she's Pinkie Pie's prototype. But who are you supposed to be?”

Huh. This is the first time anyone has really paid any attention to me when my friends are around. Dust is well known because of the show and apparently Surprise is well known within the fan base. But me? I got stuck as an apparent nobody.

“Oh, uh. I'm Geneva Pressure Front,” I reply. As silly as it is I feel a bit better when I see the recognition dawning in his eyes. Ha! I'm famous too!

“Right! That hippogriff from the Wonderbolts! I should have guessed with those crazy contacts you have. Those are really cool by the way,” he says with a grin. “Everyone really flipped out when Geneva showed up. The only non-pony in the Wonderbolts.”

“Half a pony,” I correct. “They couldn't just hire my back half. I'm a package deal.”

“Heh. So anyway, I'm Oliver. What's your name?” he asks.

“Geneva,” I say without a moment's hesitation. Damn it.

“Haha, staying in character? Alright, I won't press the issue. There's going to be a Pony meetup at the hobby store just a few blocks from here next Saturday. If you and your friends wanted to show up in costume that would be really great,” he says.

I scrunch my nose a bit at the offer. By next Saturday I'll be a LOT more than just in costume. “Ah, well. To be honest my friends are the ones who are into the whole Pony thing. I just got roped up along with them,” I can see he's about to ask further but I cut in. “We're all going to be pretty busy next Saturday, sorry. I doubt we'll be able to come.”

“Ooooh! A party on Saturday?” Surprise yells from behind me. “That sounds super duper funnerific! I think we should go!”

As much as it must pain Dust to turn down a chance to strut her stuff in front of fans she's the first to take a shot at Surprise's idea. “I don't think we can make it, Surprise.”

The poofy-maned woman quirks her head off to the side curiously. “Why not, Dusty?”

“Because we have that thing, remember?” Dust clarifies.

“We do? What thing?” Surprise giggles back.

Does she think this is a game? I can't help but face palm in exasperation. The gaggle of bronies we've attracted are starting to look confused. At least one of them probably thinks this is all a hilarious act judging from the snickering.

“You know! The thing! The thing we're going to be busy with!” Dust shoots back, gesticulating wildly. If this were a cartoon I'm pretty sure she would be flailing around noodle arms right now.

“Ooooooooooh,” Surprise replies knowingly. And then gives an extremely exaggerated conspiratorial wink. “The thing. I gotch'a, Dusty. We can't forget about the thing.”

The bronies seem suitably amused by Surprise's antics. I wonder if that had been her goal the whole time? To make it so we could decline without hurting their feelings and totally blowing them off? Or maybe she's just making up everything as she goes. It's pretty difficult to tell.

“I might be there or I might not. It'll be a surprise!” my crazy friend giggles. That seems to seal the deal for the bronies even though she hadn't actually promised anything. But then leaving all as a big surprise seems very much her style.

That satisfies them and we're free to peruse the store again. We get an occasional photo op and a passing word of praise about our costumes, but otherwise the rest of the trip goes smoothly. Which is just as well for me. My back is really starting to kill me and my legs are feeling out of kilter. My skeletal structure is probably busy rearranging itself and setting up the musculature to support a pair of wings. Wings which I am quite certain are rubbing against the inside of my shirt right now. I would like nothing more than to just flop down somewhere and sleep until the last stage of this awful metamorphosis is over.

As we're ringing up our goods the cashier can't help but comment on our selection. “Wow. You three must have quite the party planned.”

Surprise smiles back with mischievously gleaming eyes. “You have no idea!”

Food is bought and off we go.

“So is anyone else noticing...” I trail off as I step out of my car at Surprise's place and peer up the sky. I can feel the barometric pressure, temperature, wind speed, and wind direction. What's more I can feel subtle changes in the air pressure around me. I can close my eyes and feel where my friends are when they move around. I wonder if this is what the world 'looks' like to a bat. A weird sort of impression of the general size and shape of the objects near me.

When Surprise's location suddenly becomes empty I turn around and snap my eyes open. Dust snickers and points behind me. I know what's coming. I know I'll turn again and she'll be standing there behind me and she'll scream 'Surprise!' and I'll be startled. Despite knowing all this I do it anyways. And I'm surprised to discover that she isn't there at all. Nope. She just walked into her house with several bags of flour in her arms while singing a song about cupcakes.

I give a defeated sigh and follow her. “Hey Surprise? Where do you want me to put all this-”

“Surprise!”

“Sonofabitch!” I shriek as I drop the watermelon I was carrying and somehow manage to catch it with my tail of all things. I didn't even know I could do that.

“Sometimes the surprise is that there is no surprise!” my insane friend giggles. “And sometimes the surprise is just that the surprise is coming later!”

I glower at Surprise and take the watermelon from my tail. It's forced, really. Despite feeling silly from falling for her antics I just can't help but feel a bit more cheerful when Surprise is around. She continues chattering as I head for the kitchen.

“And no, I don't feel the weather thing like you or Dusty. But I do feel when the best time and place and way to surprise someone is!” Surprise laughs. “It's really fun and the look on people's faces is just great! I get this naggy sense of how to cheer people up, too. I think it's all part of my special talent! Like for you...”

As I put down the watermelon Surprise slides in next to me grinning away. “You have new magical senses Geneva! Think about that! You can feel things that no one ever has before!”

The grumpy facade I was wearing melts away as the implications of what my friend just said hit me. Magical senses. Not just magical wind tricks, but magical senses. That means there's something physical to sense in the first place. Something that represents a whole new as yet unexplored branch of physics. I wonder if my wings serve as sensory organs kind of the like those little vestigial wings flies have? That would-

“Boop!” Surprise pokes me in the nose with a finger and pulls me back to reality. “See? Cheerful!”

I laugh and provide my friend with a hug as payment. “Thanks. I hadn't thought of that.”

The loud crunch of an apple being chomped draws me attention to Dust. “Yeah, I got the weather sense too,” she takes another bite out of the apple. “And I can feel the current and electrical charge in stuff. It's pretty cool.” Dust considers the apple core for a few moments and then eats that too. “One of us should probably try giving Silver a call again. He hasn't been picking up.”

I give my eyes a roll. “He usually gets drunk and plays video games online on Sunday. He's got even more of an excuse than usual to get wasted. I'm sure Silver is just fine, if incoherent and blaming his team mates for his lack of coordination.”

With that potential issue set aside we finish clearing out the cars and settle down to discuss our plans. The first order of business? Our current state. By this time yellow scales are busy growing on my hands and my finger nails have been wholly replaced by talons. Much to my surprise I'm able to retract the things like a cat would. Which I'm pretty sure shouldn't be anatomically possible, but that's hardly a first. Dust is starting to lose a lot of the dexterity in her hands and walking around is getting really obnoxious for her. Her face is getting seriously pony-like and she's got aqua fur all over. Surprise isn't as far along as we are, but it's just a matter of time.

“I don't think I'm going to be in any condition to drive home pretty soon,” I admit as I experimentally move one of my hind legs around.

“We should have a slumber party!” Surprise suggests gleefully.

“A slumber party?” Dust echoes and raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yeah! A go to sleep as hybrid monster things and wake up as ponies slumber party!”

“And hippogriff,” I clarify. I'm not sure why that's important to me, but it is. Don't judge me.

“And hippogriff,” Surprise agrees.

“Yeah, I guess that would be cool,” Dust admits.

“Eeeee! This'll be so much fun! We can play games and watch Pony episodes and eat snacks and tell stories and gossip about who we have a crush on!” Surprise titters.

Dust and I exchange a look. “Uh, Surprise? We were both guys yesterday. And I don't know about Geneva, but Lightning Dust isn't into girly fru fru stuff. I'm down for snacks and Pony episodes though.”

“I think my friend Lewis has a crush on me,” I comment absently before clapping my hand (Paw? Talon?) over my mouth.

Dust busts up laughing.

“Wow! You really work fast Geneva!” Surprise giggles. Which is Dust's cue to laugh even harder and go tumbling off the couch.

“He doesn't even know that I'm me!” I yell back, my face flushing hot. “That Bible study thing is at my apartment tomorrow night and he invited me to it. I'm not even sure if I can go back there come tomorrow.”

Though what am I going to do about my pets?

“We should all go and make it a party!” Surprise suggests.

“I don't think stuffy Bible get togethers are supposed to be a parties, Surprise,” Dust points out once she manages to start breathing again.

“Then no one will expect it! And that'll make it a surprise party!” my crazy friend declares as she rubs her hands together nefariously. “The best kind.”

I face palm and resign myself to the insanity. If Surprise has decided to throw a party at my apartment tomorrow night I have the sneaking suspicion that there isn't a thing I can do to stop her. Better to go with the flow rather than be crushed under it. When I look up again Surprise is wearing her villain mustache.

“So Surprise, about those snack?” Dust asks, mercifully changing the subject.

“Snacks!” Surprise yelps before zooming away into the kitchen. Before long I can hear the cupcake song and the sounds of baking in full swing.

“How are you doing, Geneva?” Dust inquires once we're alone.

I give a drawn out sigh. How AM I doing? That's a good question. “Better than I was this morning. The message was exactly the encouragement I needed. I think I can handle this so long as I have friends supporting me. Sure I'm being magically transformed into a cartoon character, but no big deal, right? Besides,” I manage to give my stubby growing wings a twitch. “Once these bad boys are functioning I fully intend to give them a workout. Being able to fly under my own power? Yes please.”

That gets a grin from Dust. “I hear you there sister! I'm pretty cool with this myself. Sure it's crazy as hell, but it's crazy-awesome too! Lightning Dust is hooves down the best. Pony. Ever. I've been obsessing over her since I was a little kid. And now I get to BE her? How cool is that? If I had been offered the chance to do this before I would have done it in a snap,” she snaps her tail to punctuate the point. “And I've got you guys too! We're the bucking Wonderbolts! Sure we don't have Soarin or Spitfire or Rainbow Dash with us. But four Wonderbolts together is still pure awesomeness.”

She leans back on the couch with a self-assured smile. “Yep, this isn't so bad. And don't get me started on Surprise. Turns out she had a website that was all about people turning into ponies that she worked on.”

I balk at that. “Wait, really? She just happened to have a web page on this topic ready to go?”

Dust raises an eyebrow at me. “Yeah? She said so last night. Did you think she just conjured it out of nothing?”

“After some of the stuff she's been pulling off the past few days?” I reply with a wry grin. “I seriously considered it.”

“Cupcake time!” Surprise declares, plopping down a tray with dozens of brightly frosted cupcakes on it. Neither of us had seen her enter the room and I'm pretty sure that five minutes isn't nearly long enough to make all those cupcakes. Just nod and smile and think 'cartoon physics'. That's the only thing that doesn't send my eye twitching.

I take one and bite into it.

These are really good.

“Alright! Now for Pony episodes!” Surprise informs us. “Which one should we watch first?”

“Well... I haven't seen most of them. So why not from the beginning?” I suggest.

“Sounds like as good a time for a marathon as any. Let's get the Pony flowing!” Dust commands.

My little pony, my little pony! aaaaaaah Aaaaaaah AAAAAAAAAH-

The show devoured the next few hours of our time. It was still cute, still not really my thing, but now I have purpose behind it. This isn't just a source of entertainment, it's study material. And I make a point of watching it with an analytical eye. How the pegasus fly in particular. How they move depending on how they hold their wings. Hopefully this has some relevance to actual pony flight and we aren't just wasting time.

The cutie mark episode was particularly interesting and I couldn't help but hike down my pants a bit to peer at my own. “So these things have to do with a pony's special talent. They signify what they're best at. The job that they're destined to fill in society?”

“It's a bit more than that,” Dust clarifies. “There's one episode where the mane six get their cutie marks all mixed up and they're compelled to do each others jobs. So it's more like the cutie mark tells somepony what to do.”

“It's what my cutie mark is telling me~!” Surprise sings.

“Hmmm...” that's actually kind of disturbing. That a colorful picture on your butt would somehow command not just your destiny, but force you to fulfill it? Does that mean I'll be coerced by magical forces to do whatever it is that my two tornadoes are supposed to signify? Or am I still a free agent because-

“Oh my GOD!” Dust moans. “You're doing that damn clicking thing with your beak now!”

My beak? I reach up with one hand and feel my face. Sure enough my nose and upper jaw have fused together into a beak and my lower jaw has followed suit. I can't even see the thing sticking out of my face unless I close one eye and peer at it. I wonder if the tongue clicking is where my beak clicking came from? Or maybe it's the other way around. Deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole we go.

“Why didn't you tell me I had a beak earlier?” I ask with a huff.

“We thought you knew, silly!” Surprise laughs. “It's kind of hard to miss.”

What's that figure of speech? As plain as the nose on your face? I guess this is just another triumph for obliviousness.

“You know, I'm thinking we should make a video,” Dust says out of the blue. “Like a 'Meet the Ponies' sort of thing. Then we upload it onto YouTube and send it to the locals new station, too. We show off how awesome we are. Sort of a 'we come in peace' deal. Then at the end we say that we'll be landing on the roof of the channel six building at such and such a time,” Dust pauses for effect as her grin grows. “And then we do. After we practice flying of course. We come in full on Wonderbolts shock and awe formation. Then we go inside and do an interview. Tell people what we know.”

Controlled information release. We had talked about it the night before, but apparently Dust had given it some more thought. “That... actually doesn't sound like a bad idea,” I muse. “The alternative of course would be just hiding out until somepony manages to get themselves caught. People would still flip out from our video once it's clear that it isn't a hoax and something really is going on. But at least it would be controlled flipping out with some degree of knowledge behind it.”

“Oh people will be flipping their shit alright,” Dust says. “People will be doing so much shit-flipping that you would think there's a barrel of monkeys on the loose.”

Surprise begins giggling like a loon. “Hehe! I think it'll be neat! How will people react to real live ponies?”

I look up at her from poking my beak. The thing feels really weird. Like a giant toenail growing on my face. “I can think of a few things right off. Everything from alien invasion to demons.”

“We'll just have to make it really super obvious that we're nice then!” Surprise says, her tone firm with resolution.

“How the hell would anyone mistake ponies for demons?” Dust asks incredulously.

“There are people who think pokemon are demons,” comes my deadpan reply.

“Touche,” Dust laughs. “But seriously, we're doing this right? The video and the interview?”

“It's probably one of the least volatile ways to get the information out there,” I admit. “We should try to be quick about it. Wait at most two or three days. The longer we wait the more likely it is that people start spotting ponies. If this looks like damage control rather than ponies coming forward on their own then people will get suspicious.”

They'll probably get suspicious not matter what. But hopefully they'll be slightly less suspicious.

“I nominate Geneva for camera-griff since she'll be the only one with hands!” Surprise declares.

“Motion seconded,” Dust agrees. “Besides, I'm not about to let my adoring fans down. They're going to want to see plenty of Lightning Dust and Lightning Dust plans to deliver. Can't do that from behind a camera.”

“That would be a travesty,” I deadpan.

The credits for the My Little Pony episode about slumber parties roll and I'm left wondering why anyone in their right mind would enjoy fiction about slumber parties. It's such a banal subject. But it also cues a few yawns and we decide to call it a night. The last leg of the changes are getting pretty uncomfortable and sleeping through the metamorphosis is sounding like a really good idea right now. Surprise and Dust hobble off to bed and I spread myself out on the couch and strip off my clothes. I'm so fortunate to still have fingers. I can't imagine how difficult things must be for my friends. There's a blanket on the back of the couch, so I pull that over myself to keep warm. As the stillness closes in around me I begin chatting with the ceiling.

“Thanks for the word this morning. I really needed that and I would probably be in a bad place right now if I hadn't gotten it. But I guess that's sort of your thing, huh? Lots of little serendipitous events that don't mean much alone and a whole lot taken together.”

“I wonder if Chuck is right about the whole alternate universe idea. Other worlds out there where the laws that govern them are totally different than this one. I know it's hypothetically possible, but I've never seriously considered it. In a world of talking animals and mythical critters who would you show up as? Aslan? Though I guess that was how it worked in Narnia too. What's the Big Man going to be in a world without men? Why the king of beasts of course!”

“I'm really glad that I've got friends to go through this with. Not that I'm happy they're suffering through this. Or... enjoying this as Dust and Surprise seem to be doing. But just having someone else there who knows how I feel really helps. Getting to talk with Chuck was great too. They both took it amazingly well and I can only hope that other people will respond that way too. I would hate to see people panicking over something that's as unusual as it is innocuous. I hope Silver is doing alright. He's probably taking this really badly. We'll need to find a way to check on him.”

“This is it, isn't it? My last night as anything vaguely human. The changes are obviously accelerating and I'm pretty messed up now as it is. Tomorrow it'll be full hippogriff and some of my best friends will be pegasuses. Pegasi. Whatever the plural is. Ugh. And I'll still have that 'party' at my apartment to figure out what to do about. And the film to make. But one crisis at a time, right?”

I give a soft chuckle as drowsiness begins to overtake me. Soon enough the sweet embrace of sleep eases away the aches and pains of the last of my humanity dissolving.

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow will be quite the day.

The day when the world will cry as one that there is too much pony.

Wherein There is Too Much Pony

Day Three
Twenty Two Days Remain

Snowing. It's snowing and I'm dancing with the delicately descending crystals in tune with the wind. I can feel the world around me. I can hear the song in the air. I can hear the melody of the clouds. I can feel the symphony of the wide open sky. I can feel the harmony binding everything together. Simple joy. Foal-like joy. And then I see those hideous yellow eyes. The song becomes discordant and where there was music only whiteness and pain remains.

The dream dissolves away.

I'm laying on Surprise's couch, I remember. For a time I simply lay there trying not to think. If I don't move then I can imagine that I'm still normal and this is all a strange dream that has blurred the line between reality and fantasy. The illusion is broken when one of my ears swivels to zero in on the sound of a bird singing outside.

Thanks a lot ear.

I give my tail an irritated flick and hit myself in the face.

Wonderful. This is exactly how I was hoping to start my day.

Finally I ease my eyes open and discover that the world has changed. Or how I see the world at least. Everything looks crisper and better defined than it had before. I focus my attention on a lamp and gyrate my neck a little to move it against its background. With that simple motion suddenly the lamp may as well be highlighted while my brain busily calculates exactly how much force I would need to leap across the room and pounce on the unsuspecting appliance.

“Wow. That's neat,” I mutter. I crane my neck to peer back at myself and find that it is far more flexible than it was before. Being able to turn my neck a full hundred and eighty degrees is kind of surreal.

Alright, enough laying around. Time to get up. I reach out a hand to pull the blanket off myself only to think better. It takes a bit of finagling with the muscles and nerves but eventually I figure out how all the joints in my wings move. I snap one wing straight up and then give it a flick, tossing the blanket away.

Nothing human is left. My whole body is some weird mix of feline and equine in general shape and I'm covered in mottled brown fur. The end of my beak has turned black, though the nose portion is still yellow. There are probably names for the various beak parts but I can't recall them. My mane seems intent on holding its shape regardless of how I sleep on it. From the way my limbs move I can tell I probably could walk upright, but it would be really awkward. Like when I hold Soundwave up and dance around with him while he glares death.

And of course there are the wings.

I know it should seem strange to have these new utterly alien limbs attached to me and moving like they have always been part of me, but I just can't seem to muster the feelings of revulsion I'm sure I should be having. Instead when I look back at my wings I can't help but feel that some error has been corrected and I should have had them to begin with. It's vaguely unsettling. Seven 'primary feathers' adorn each wing, though they're far thicker and too articulate to just be feathers. Though now that I think about it Gilda had bones inside her 'feathers' when she got shocked by Pinkie.

Hmm...

With wing anatomy on the mind I roll off the couch and begin pacing around the room. Walking helps order the thoughts after all. I flex my wings. Fold them. Fluff the feathers on them and give them a shake. Spread them again and begin wiggling each primary in turn. It's almost like having a giant set of big fluffy hands. Though I don't think they bend the right way to actually hold an object with them. Thankfully I've got real hands for that.

On a whim I heft my wings up and then give a strong flap. Much to my surprise I don't feel my hooves touching the floor any longer. Much to my chagrin I feel my skull collide with the ceiling. I crash into the floor and the breath woofs out of my lungs.

I lay there for a few minutes, head pounding from my disastrous maiden flight. “Okay,” I resolve. “Flying is for outside only.”

“Are you okay Geneva?” Surprise yells from elsewhere in the house. “That sounded like a crash!”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” I reply. I give my head a rub and I'm relieved to find no blood on my hands. “I'm just getting acquainted with the interactions between pegasus magic and solid objects. Turns out my head makes an ideal tool for the job.”

“Just making sure! I'm, uuhh, kind of figuring out how to walk,” Surprise replies.

Figuring out how to walk? What? I start following the sound of her voice. “What do you mean? It's like crawling on all fours. Just on your toes instead of your knees. There's nothing to it.”

I find Surprise wobbling around in the hallway like a newborn foal. She's staring down at her hooves in deep concentration runs headlong into me. She gives a little yelp, loses her balance, overcompensates, and then topples sideways into the wall.

“You're thinking about this too hard, Surprise,” I laugh. Without second thought I sit down on my haunches like a huge cat to free up my hands. From the sitting position it's a lot easier to help Surprise back to her hooves. “Stop trying to walk and just walk. Your body knows how to move, but you're trying to take over manually.”

“Do or do not,” Surprise wheezes in her best Yoda voice. “There is no try. I think I know what you mean Geneva. It's just tricky! Tricky tricksee hoofses.”

Off to the guest room to check on Dust! I shove the door open and I'm greeted by the sight of Dust on the floor doing pushups with her wings. Wingups? Something. She's pretty intense and takes a moment to notice us staring at her.

“Oh, hey guys. Welcome to ponydom,” she says casually.

“What are you doing?” I ask incredulously.

“Just refining my awesome. It takes a lot of work to be the best. And we ARE the best now. We're Wonderbolts! And that means we're going to have to train to stay in in peak condition!” Dust says, slipping into her coach mode.

I can already see images of training montages dancing before my eyes.

Dust continues her motivational spiel. “If we're going to wow them at that interview we're going to need to look good. So that means practice practice practice!”

“Maybe after breakfast?” Surprise suggests hopefully.

“Come to think of it, how ARE we going to practice flying? We're kind of conspicuous,” I point out.

Dust replies with a cocky grin. “Looked outside lately?”

My weather sense is telling me that it's really cloudy but that didn't prepare me for what I see when I pull back the blinds.

“Wow. That's some major fog,” I mumble. We get thick fog like this every now and again that rolls in from the sea. Fog so thick that you're lucky if visibility is limited to fifty feet or so. But usually it only shows up late at night. And when I open the window to get a better feel for it I can tell that this fog will be sticking around until mid afternoon.

“Who knows what lurks within the mist! OOOoooooOOOoh!” Surprise moans spookily and waves her front hooves around. “It'll be like that one movie except with adorable aliens instead of scary ones!”

“This is perfect guys,” Dust says. “Once we get the hang of it we fly above the flog and practice up there. There's no one to see us and if we crash we'll be crashing into nice soft clouds instead of going through someone's roof. And we'll even get a chance to try building stuff with clouds if we feel like it.”

“I'm going to make a snowmare! Or a cloudmare I guess?” Surprise giggles. “This is going to be so much fun!”

We break for breakfast and I'm given the duty of serving up horse feed from several large white bags into bowls for my friends. When you're the only one equipped with hands you get stuck with a lot of the chores. I try some of the crunchy horse food and it actually isn't half bad. The stuff looks almost exactly like Allbran and tastes about a million times better. Though I'm willing to bet Allbran would be a lot more palatable than I recall. I snack on a few of the leftover cupcakes and can't help but field a question.

“How did you get that first batch of cupcakes done so fast, Surprise?” I ask.

“I just had some store cupcakes sitting around the house! So I brought those out while the others were cooking,” she replies with a grin between mouthfuls of equine cereal.

Okay. That actually makes sense. Still doesn't explain the closet thing though...

I don't want to ruin my friend's appetites so I resolve to chow down on my meat later on when I'm alone. Have to be sensitive to the feelings of others after all. So it's all cupcakes and horse feed for me this morning. Watching my friends eat is actually pretty amusing. Dust tries to maneuver a spoon between her hooves but that ends up as a complete disaster. Eventually she follows Surprise's example and just shoves her face in the bowl to chow down.

With breakfast done and bowls are rinsed of alfalfa detritus the house is starting to smell very much like a pet store. Out into Surprise's back yard we go and find ourselves utterly surrounded by mist. My weird air pressure sense still provides me with a line of sight 'image' of things the mist was obscuring. It even tells me that if I fly five hundred and thirty eight feet straight up I'll encounter clear skies.

My eyes turned skyward I speak. “One really strong wing flap was enough to hurl me into the ceiling,” I recount. And then toss a glare Dust's way when she snickers. “So maybe start with something...”

I trail off when I spot Surprise hovering five feet off the ground. And hanging upside down. Her wings are flapping at a pretty lazy rate. Ooookay. That isn't possible at all. But remember, magic!

Dust begins flapping her own wings and starts lifting off the grass and I decide to follow suit. As I rise I get the weird impression that I'm weightless. Or floating in water. The mist around me has an odd sort of give to it akin to snow. Like I could walk on it, but if I stomp it just right I'll plow right through it. The feeling is coming mostly from my wings, I think? Another point for the 'pegasus wings are sensory organs' hypothesis. As distracted as I am pondering the mysteries of pony magic I don't notice right away that we're about twenty feet above the ground and in the process of clearing Surprise's roof.

Heh.

We're flying.

“Alright Wonderbolts!” Dust yells. “We're heading up. Don't stop until you clear the fog!”

And in a rush of wing beats Dust goes hurtling out of sight with a crackling blue and yellow contrail behind her. Given the way my wings are tingling I'm pretty sure the light display is pure magic. I glance over at Surprise and she responds with a nod. We both begin pumping our wings for all we're worth and take off like adorable fuzzy rockets.

I know I took off pretty fast there. And it strikes me that I didn't feel the tell tale sinking feeling of a sudden acceleration. I make a little mental check mark next to the 'flight magic absorbs and creates accelerative force' box. Yay for science! I'll need to make a point of testing out the limits of my ability to control a completely hitherto unknown physical force.

Eeee!

This is so exciting!

I'm left boggling at how little time it takes for us to break above the layer of fog. An endless sea of white stretches in all directions around me. The only color is the brilliant blue morning sky above and my magical pastel colored horse friends.

“This is so cool!” I squeal in girly delight. I'm about ten feet above the fog when I decide to snap my wings shut and drop like a stone. When I hit the mist I grab onto it and feel it compressing to soften my impact and slow me down. Oddly enough the fog isn't filling in the hole I just punched into it, leaving a gap about ten feet wide open to the sky above. And below me? I wrap my legs around my prize and start beating my wings again. Once I'm above the fog layer again I fold me wings, give them a fluff, and sit down on my new cloud.

It's an incredibly cartoony looking thing, just like the clouds from the show. A five foot wide cottony mass of water droplets supporting my weight as surely as a cloud would support Mario. It has a refreshingly cool feel to it quite unlike anything I've ever encountered. And of course it's completely, utterly, physically impossible. At least based on our currently flawed understanding of physics. I'll bet I could write a PhD thesis on cloud magic and become famous if anyone were willing to give out PhDs to half pony cat-birds.

Surprise is busy making cloud angels down in the fog and Dust is zipping around testing her flight. Just flapping the wings with her legs hanging below her results ascent, descent, or a hover depending on how fast she flaps them. When she holds her hooves out in front of her Super Man style she takes off full speed ahead. Angling her body to either side results in turns and a particularly sharp turn results in a hundred mile an hour face-plant into the fog. Large puffs of cloud go billowing out of the crater she blasts into the otherwise pristine surface.

I feel a tinge of worry, but my pressure sense is telling me that Dust is still moving around down there and starting to ascend again. She's all grins when she pops out of the clouds.

“Hahaha! Did you see that?” she crows. “That was amazing!”

“It was a really great crash, Dusty!” Surprise comments from atop one of the clouds that Dust's impact had dislodged. Surprise has somehow managed to fashion herself a Santa beard out of cloud stuff.

“Forget the crash. Did you see how fast I was going?” Dust laughs. I can nearly feel the adrenalin pounding in her ears from where I'm sitting. “I couldn't sleep last night and so I had Wonderbolt Academy playing on loop. I was watching how all the pegasi flew and stuff. And you know what?” her grin grows all the wider as she works toward her earth shaking revelation. “Everything. Works. Just. Like. The show! Everything!”

I contemplate that while Dust continues to pontificate about how amazing she is. That narrows down the field of study a fair bit, doesn't it? Knowing the basics of flight means less experimentation and more practice. Flying already feels pretty natural to me. As if my lack of wings had kept me on the ground quite in spite of how it was meant to be. As if the skies were my destiny.

“That's what my cutie mark is telling me~!” Surprise sings over my shoulder.

One panicked squawk later I'm hovering about fifty feet away from my cloud and giving Surprise the evil eye. I glance at where she had been moments before, then back to her. She waves a hoof at me cheerfully.

“Enough goofing around!” Dust declares. “It's time to get serious. We're going to start practicing for real now. I'll explain the basics. And listen close because I'm only doing it once, got it?”

Dust provides us with a crash course on all the various wing, leg, and body positions that direct pegasus flight. It's actually all pretty intuitive. “And if you lose control just get a soft grip on the fog and it'll break your fall. Got it? Good! Now get moving!”

Yep. Time to get serious. Flight magic turns out to be a pretty odd thing that's half precise movements and half intent. The magic seems to know what I want to do, but it needs the cues from various movements of my limbs to direct it. Flapping my wings faster has no business providing me with any additional thrust. They're entirely the wrong shape to do anything of the sort. Holding my hands out in front of shouldn't cause me to take off like a missile, but it does. Turning my head to peer at the double helix of black and white spiraling around a red core behind me ends up being an awful idea and I eat cloud.

The funny thing is that it doesn't hurt at all. It's like flopping into the most yielding bed ever. So I just laugh, beat my wings, and pretty soon I'm at it again. Though soon enough a familiar sensation halts my frolicking in the clouds. “I. Uuuh. Hey Dust? I've got to go to the bathroom. What should I do?”

Lightning Dust banks past me with jaw dropping speed only to pull upright, pull her legs in, and start beating her wings furiously. Withing the span of a fifty feet she completely kills her forward momentum and drops into a hover.

“Did you just ask what I think you asked?” she asks with a wry grin.

I fluff my wings uncomfortably. “Probably?”

“Just let 'er fly,” Dust suggests. “That's what I did.”

My friend is met with a horrified look. “What's if there's someone under us?”

Dust is already zooming off again and yells over her shoulder, “That's their problem!”

Is this really a good idea? My gurgling insides inform me that it's going to be happening good idea or not. I plant my nethers against the fog, relax, and do what comes naturally. I really hope I didn't just drop terminal velocity hippogriff crap on my car.

That task done I turn my attention back to the training. I have no idea how many hours we burn romping about in the clouds. It's really easy to lose track of time. There's a certain freedom that comes with flying under your own power that you just can't find anywhere else. We quickly begin testing our limits. How fast can we fly? How fast can we stop? How sharply can we turn? If we get thirsty we just need to stomp the rain out of a cloud. With the whistling of flight and the glowing magical contrails we put on quite the show. I'm glad there's no one else up here. We would be absolutely unmistakable if there were.

“Murray Tower? This is Cessna one one niner echo foxtrot. I've spotted a, uh... An unidentified flying object at six hundred feet right above Korbel,” the pilot reported. He's unsure whether or not his eyes should be believed.

“What? Like little green men echo foxtrot?” squawked air traffic control's jovial reply.

“No, more like a little green horse.”

I didn't notice the propeller driven single prop aircraft until I settled down on a cloud again. The sound of the wind in my ears had drowned out the drone of its engine. As soon as I spot it my ears fold back and a feeling of dread begins squirming in my gut.

“Eyes in the sky!” I roar, surprising myself with the reverberating boom of my voice. “Wonderbolts take cover!”

We all dive into the fog and the world turns white. I can't see a thing in this pea soup so I close my eyes and focus on my air pressure sense. I'm thankful for the ability to feel my relative altitude since having the ground sneak up on me would be an awful way to end my morning. And life. Dust is somewhere behind me and about fifty fight above while Surprise is lurking around much closer. I'm not altogether sure how I can tell the two of them apart, though I think I can live with another item on my long 'how the hell am I doing this?' list.

“Can everypony hear me still?” I call off into the haze.

“Loud and clear!” Dust bellows back.

“Roger Wilcox!” Surprise says from a dozen or so feet below me and to the left. I'm pretty sure 'Roger Wilcox' isn't the proper phrase but correcting my crazy friend is pretty low on my priority list at the moment.

Geeze I've amassed a lot of lists over the past few days. Maybe I need a list list?

“Keep your wings tucked and a light grip on the fog,” Dust suggests. “You'll fall really slow and we can meet up on the ground.”

I let go of the mist drop like a rock in water. In a panic I grab at it with my magic again, grinding myself to a halt and pressing out a small cloud under me. I buck the cheerful little white monument to my failure with a hoof and it obligingly evaporates. Huh. That's right. Smashing a cloud with a hoof vaporizes it in the show. Weird that it doesn't give off any heat. Turning that much liquid water into gas takes a whole lot of energy. Which helps to paint a pretty clear picture of just how much power my friends and I are casually throwing around.

Geeze magic is crazy.

It's pretty stop and go, but eventually I find a comfortable medium between free fall and stationary to pace my descent. Though I'm surprised to find a forest of tree-shapes looming up from below us rather than houses and streets. It isn't too long after that I settle on a fir tree, its crown bending under my weight. Weird. This isn't what I was expecting at all. Dust is the one to voice what we're all thinking.

“But... we stayed more or less in one spot, didn't we?” she says as she lands on another hulking tree. “How did we get so far away from Surprise's place?”

Surprise is busy tapping one hoof to her face, pondering as she hovers effortlessly. “The wind! The wind has been blowing from the west since this morning! It must have blown the fog inland!”

Dust and I both give an exasperated groan. Of course the wind would keep the fog rolling. That's what fog does. At least this gives us a heading to fly in.

“Next time we try something like this,” I suggest. “We should bring my phone with us. I can use the GPS to figure out exactly where we are.”

“But you don't have any pockets, silly!” Surprise helpfully points out.

“Eh. We'll just have to make some saddlebags for her. It's no big deal,” Dust says dismissively. “We should probably get moving, though. We still need to check on Silver. And you still have that party to throw at Geneva's apartment.”

“Ugh, don't remind me. We're aren't seriously doing that, are we?” I ask. “You know that it'll end in disaster somehow.”

“Pfft. You know these people Geneva. So you tell me what will happen. They walk in, get a load of my awesome, and then what's next?” Dust asks.

I give a little snort and mull it over. My perching tree is getting a little uncomfortable at this point so I adjust my footing. How would my other friends react? “Surprised, I guess. So long as they listen to me I could explain what's going on. Of the eight people in the group I know four of them are bronies-”

Dust is instantly in my face with a grin stretching across her own. “Really? Who's their favorite pony?” then all smooth-like she runs a hoof through her mane. “As if there's any contest.”

I playfully shove the narcissistic pegasus out of my personal space. “Sorry Dust, I haven't got a clue. I'm not a Pony fan, remember? I guess we might be able to pull it off. But it'll be a risk like anything else. Though we could use some footage of ponies and humans interacting peacefully for the video. That would probably be more effective than a couple talking pony heads.”

“Great! It's settled then. We do the party thing and let your friends swoon over Lightning Dust,” Dust laughs. “But first we need to get back into town and check in on Silver.”

We've got a plan, we've got a heading, and we've got the wings to carry us. We turn west and take off toward the coast. As we're flying the fog is beginning to break up. The wind has changed direction and now we're getting some warm air coming in from the south. Great. Now our cover is going to dissolve. We're already over the city again and I'm spotting bits and pieces of it through the patchy fog. This outing may well become disastrous.

Thankfully Surprise comes up with an idea.

“Clouds! We need clouds!” she giggles, getting a look of confusion from Dust and I.

“Well duh, of course we need clouds. We need cover so no one spots us from the ground,” Dust replies.

“No, silly! We make some clouds and hug onto the top of them! Then we fly them around! We'll be camouflaged!” Surprise clarifies.

I burst out laughing at the absurdity of our situation. We've been turned into cartoon characters and now we need to build some cartoon clouds so we don't get discovered by any random onlookers. “Surprise, that's brilliant. Let's get to work.”

We had already gotten plenty of experience the past few hours playing with clouds and so the task goes quickly. Just compress some cloud with your body and wings and done! One nice big cottony cloud for us all to settle on top of. It takes a little effort for us to match each others pace and Dust complains loudly about Surprise being too slow, but I think she'll live.

This has to look odd from the ground. A cloud puttering along against the wind and changing direction every now and again. Of course we're high enough up that it shouldn't look like we're moving that quickly. So unless someone decides to stand around and watch our cloud bumble about for fifteen minutes we should be good.

I peer over the edge every once in a while to check our position. Navigating from on high is a little tricky, but thankfully I can recognize a lot of the major landmarks. This is actually a bit quicker than driving by car since we can just go as the crow flies. Or as the pegasus flies, I guess. The lack of speed limit doesn't hurt either.

Before long our cloudmobile is hanging above Silver's little rental house. It's the middle of the day and most of the neighborhood's residence are at work. But there are still enough humans wandering around that simply dropping out of the sky and bucking his front door open isn't going to work. Getting spotted out here isn't on the agenda.

“Hmmm...” Surprise is looking really thoughtful again. That's either a really good sign or a really bad sign. “I can get us in! Just follow my lead exactly, okay?”

“Worst case scenario one person spots us,” I reason. “Even if they get our picture that won't mean much. Using photo-manipulation to add a pony to a picture isn't exactly rocket science.”

Dust nods. “You're the lead pony on this mission, Surprise. Don't let us down!”

“Okee dokee! See that mail box down there?” Surprise points a hoof at a rather typical looking mail box complete with flappy red arm thingy. “On my word fly directly above at an altitude of twenty feet. Wait thirty seconds and then fly behind those bushes. Wait there six seconds and then we head for Silver's back door! Okay?”

We both nod. Twenty feet, wait thirty, bushes, wait six. Seems simple enough.

“Go!”

Down we dive and start our hover just as a man comes strolling out of his house humming a cheerful tune and carrying a stack of garbage. He opens up a can and tosses the bag inside. The fellow starts to turn again, but something desirable catches his eye.

“Oh hey, a dollar,” he comments brightly as he stoops down to pick up the bill and our thirty seconds expires. We dart into the bushes while his attention is on the money. “Hello?” he calls out only to find empty streets all around. With a shrug he walks back into his house.

We're soon standing at Silver's back door. Dust can't help but ask, “How do you do that?”

Surprise giggles. “How do you know what the weather is doing? I just do! Isn't that good enough?”

Good enough for me.

I try the back door (go hands!) and find that it's unlocked. As soon as I ease it open a crack our noses are assaulted by the stink of booze and sick. Silver... probably isn't taking this very well. We exchange worried looks and head inside, picking our way through the mess. It looks like a tiny horse-shaped tornado had torn its way through the apartment smashing everything within bucking range.

Nope. Definitely not taking it well.

“We never should have left him alone,” I mutter as we spread out to search the house. He hated ponies. And even when this was just ears and tails Silver was in a sort of drunken denial over the whole thing. Had he just completely snapped when he woke up this morning? I hope he didn't hurt himself...

“Surprise! Geneva! Front room now!” Dust bellows. My hands and hooves pound the floor as I take off in a run and end up in an ungainly heap of splayed limbs. Wonderful. My brain has no trouble adapting to 'trot' but when I try 'gallop' all I get are error messages. I heft myself upright again and pace myself this time, dreading all the while what will be waiting for me.

Dust and Surprise are already there staring at the front door. The jam has been splintered and hoof marks mar the door itself. Silver isn't anywhere in the house. And the front door was nearly bucked off its hinges.

“He's gone,” Surprise murmurs. I swear her mane loses a bit of its volume.

“Damn it,” Dust hisses. “He could be anywhere by now. How are we going to find him?”

“We won't,” I say. “Randomly searching the city isn't going to do us any good. Like Dust said he could be anywhere right now.”

Hopefully not locked up by animal control.

“We need him to find us. He knows where we'll be. He knows where my apartment is and he knows that we stocked up on supplies over at Surprise's place. Silver would have to be crazy-lucky to reach either without getting himself caught. But... short of seeing a story about a talking pegasus on the news I think this is our best chance to find him again.”

I don't like it very much.

And my friends don't like it very much either.

But sadly we're short on pegasus tracking equipment so we're just going to have to hope for the best.

“We'll just make is such a super amazing spectacular party that Silver will have to show up!” Surprise resolves. “Come on! We've got a swinging get together to get together! If we head out the bathroom window right now we'll be able to make it to our cloud without being spotted!”

And awaaaaay!

Thank goodness for Surprise's improbable sneaking powers otherwise we probably would have been caught thrice over by now. We make a quick pit stop at Surprise's house to pick up my wallet and phone along with a few vital items (why a rubber chicken is vital I won't pretend to understand) before parking our cloudmobile over my apartment complex.

Seven stories of cheap housing looms below us. We have five hours before guests should begin arriving. That should be plenty of time for Surprise to work her magic on my apartment. And I have the sneaking suspicion that the magic she's going to be working will be quite literal.

Though we're still left with one rather daunting problem.

“So... how are we going to get inside?” Dust asks. “We would have to come in through the lobby and then hike all the way up to the seventh floor without getting caught, right?”

I nod. “Though on the upside maybe we could land on the roof and try coming in that way? My keycard opens the roof access so that means less sneaking in our future. We aren't as likely to run into people wandering around on the seventh floor.”

“Sounds good to me. Ready to do the ninja thing Surprise?” Dust asks with a grin.

Surprise is already tying some sort of weird scarf over her forehead.

With her hooves.

Somehow.

“My spirit yearns within me to be acknowledged,” Surprise says. I swear her mouth is out of synch with her words. “I was born with readiness.”

Then she leaps off our cloud and free-falls toward the roof below. At the last moment she snaps her wings open in a whir of motion, slows to a snail's pace, and alights gently between a pair of air conditioning units. From far below Surprise beckons us to follow.

Dust and I share a glance.

“May as well,” my friend says.

We both dive off the cloud and the ground begins rushing up to meet us. You would think that a skydiving pegasus and hippogriff would be pretty easy to spot, but at this point I trust Surprise's stealth sense after seeing it in action. Or not seeing it in action and getting startled by the results. As we near the roof some powerful wing beats while aiming our noses skyward kills our fall. It's hilariously similar to a cartoon character thrusting their feet at the ground to put on the brakes. That might even be exactly what's happening.

“Alright Surprise. What's... next...” I ask, only to trail off when I notice that she's wearing a pigeon in her mane. The bird peers back at me with its vacant orange eyes.

Surprise motions for us to be quiet and creeps off across the roof. I pull out my keycard and swipe the door open for us. Once inside Surprise motions for us to hang back while she starts off toward my apartment entrance.

Only to be spotted by Mrs. McCullough.

Her reaction is... odd though. Instead of flipping out about the pegasus walking around in the hall she just gives a disgusted snort. “Great. Those filthy pigeons are getting in here again. I'm going to have to talk to the superintendent about this.”

And with a huff she storms off into the elevator.

We both trot out into the hallway behind Surprise. I had thought, honestly thought, that I had seen the weirdest things she had to offer. And every time I think that Surprise sees fit to shatter my ill-conceived notions of the limits of possibility.

“How?” I manage to squawk out.

Surprise smiles. “She was not strong enough to defeat Improbable Pigeon Shroud Technique.”

Wherein There is a Party

I quickly resolve not to watch Surprise setting up for the party for the sake of my sanity and the sake of her actually getting it done. It's almost as if she operates under a cartoonish version of the uncertainty principle. If you aren't watching Surprise her position and velocity of decoration application are both unknown and undefined. But the moment you observe her Surprise's absurd wave-form collapses, usually in a heap of streamers.

Which is why Dust and I are sequestered in my room turning my old jeans into make-shift saddlebags. Turns out my talons can cut through the tough denim without too much trouble which makes sheering off the legs and crotch until there's just a belt of sorts remaining isn't that hard. I finish my second pair and toss them in front of Dust.

The aqua pegasus scrutinizes them. “So how am I supposed to put these things on, anyway?” she asks, prodding at the butchered pants with a hoof.

“How do ponies put on clothing in the show? I'm not the expert here. I'm just along for the ride,” I laugh.

Dust starts pressing her hoof against the pants and lifting it again, scowling each time. In short order she starts stomping on the awful saddlebag that I had put so much effort into and growing increasingly agitated.

“Come on you stupid thing! Stick!” she growls at the poor abused clothing.

“Okay, I'm lost again. I know Surprise somehow managed to tie on a ninja headband using only her hooves, but she's been bending physics over her knee ever since this insanity started,” I point out. “What exactly are you expecting from your hooves?”

“Magnet hooves,” Dust says resolutely before thwacking her hoof into the pants again.

“Magnet hooves?” I echo. It's so awkward being the odd one out when it comes to the show. I really need to watch more episodes so I'll get all these references.

“Magnet hooves,” Dust confirms. “Everypony can pick stuff up with their hooves. Things just kind of stick to them, right? Surprise already figured out how to do it but she won't give me a straight answer when I ask how.”

What a shock.

“So I'm going to figure it out on my own! Flying was a snap, so how hard could this be?” Dust reasons.

“Wait,” I wave a hand for Dust to stop pounding the ever loving crap out of my ruined pants. She pauses with a hoof in mid-air and ready to descend. “If ponies can make their hooves stick to things wouldn't they be able to climb walls Spider Man style?”

“You mean Spider Mane?” Dust replies with a smirk. I level a deadpan expression at her and give my tail an irritated flick. That prompts her to continue. “Nah, it doesn't seem to work like that. Not on the show, anyway. And so far the show hasn't steered us wrong. Ah ha!”

Lightning Dust lifts her hoof aloft, pants dangling from the end of the limb like a ruined flag.

“Neat! So how did you do it?” I ask curiously.

“I have no idea!” Dust admits no less enthusiastically. “But isn't it awesome? Now I'll be able to pick up spoons and stuff!”

The absurdity of this situation is by no means lost on me. I begin casually inspecting my talons. “Yeah, picking stuff up is pretty cool.”

That remark rewards me with a pair of awful saddlebags to the face.

Ever so slowly I reach up and remove the pants dangling off my beak. Ever so smoothly I hold my front leg out to one side and drop the pants on the floor. I wiggle my butt in the air for half a second which happens to be just long enough for Dust to realize what I'm about to do. The look of awful realization that spreads across her face right before I pounce on her is absolutely priceless.

“Oh it's on now!” the pegasus laughs as we begin tussling and rolling and kicking around on the floor. I'm a bit bigger and stronger than Dust is, but the pegasus is freaky flexible and getting any sort of a hold on her proves to be about as easy as nailing jello to a wall. She head-butts me in the chest and the breath woofs out of my lungs. I respond by tackling her over backwards when she starts yucking it up.

Not about to be out-done Dust somehow rolls out from under me and then leaps onto my back, wrapping her hooves around my neck. I stagger around for a few seconds flailing wildly at her when I suddenly remember my uncanny watermelon catching tail. The usually rebelious limb lashes around her back leg and I whip myself around, tossing her onto my bed. I don't give her a chance to react and follow up with a quick pounce.

And of course Surprise comes trotting in right as I pin Dust to the bed.

We both freeze.

Surprise glances between the two of us and remarks brightly. “Oh! Are you two busy right now? I was wondering if you could help me hang some banners! But if you need some alone time I can come back later.”

Fast as I can blink we're both sitting on opposite sides of the bed, faces flushed and eyes focused intently on the floor.

“Great! Well, come on then!” Surprise laughs. “This party won't set itself up after all!”

We both follow Surprise silently. Though Dust still sees fit to cuff me in the back of the head with her wing.

I'm going to pretend that it makes perfect sense that Surprise just happened to have all these baking materials and party supplies from her shop. I'm not going to think about how she got them here or how we didn't notice. If I ask she'll give me an answer that doesn't explain anything. And later it will either turn out to have a reasonable explanation or it will fly in the face of possibility. Just remember Geneva, cartoon physics. Surprise has got it in spades.

Dust and I get to work hanging various banners around my apartment that declare everything from 'Welcome to the Surprise Party!' to 'Equestria Girls: We're Kinda Magical!'. It is no doubt another reference I don't get. All the while Surprise is bouncing around sticking streamers to everything and hanging up confetti filled balloons. All the decorations are in soft pastel colors that would have made me go into overly-girly shock a few days prior.

Ha. Wow. How long has it been now? It was only Friday when the cutie mark appeared on my hips. One long weekend later and I'm helping my magical pony pals set up a Friendship is Magic themed party in my apartment. A party that we're throwing to warm some humans up to the existence of real living breathing cartoon characters so we can use footage of said party to make an announcement video that may or may not decide the future of our species.

But no pressure, right?

A balloon bounces into the side of my head and sticks. With a huff I grab the thing and pull it off only to find strands of my mane clinging to it stubbornly. I finally give the balloon a swat and it sails across the room and adheres to a wall.

Dust is absolutely losing it now and I stare at her as if she's going insane. She begins pointing a hoof at my head. “Your mane looks great Geneva!”

What?

I run a hand through my hair and discover that it's all standing on end from a static charge. I can probably guess the culprit.

“So you've learned to master mysterious arcane forces beyond the understanding of mortal man and what do you do with them?” I ask Dust sardonically.

“Watch this,” Dust proclaims with a grin. The aqua pegasus grabs another balloon between her hooves and begins to rub it vigorously against her fur, causing little golden yellow sparks and arcs of electricity to begin dancing across it. Then she gives it a little bop and it drifts over to Surprise and settles against her dayglow yellow poof of a tail.

Surprise yelps as all of her fur leaps out straight giving her a passing resemblance to some kind of pony sheep llama hybrid.

Dust doubles over in laughter again. “Oh my God, Surprise! You look like a fluffy pony!”

My absurdly poofy friend looks herself over and then in a nasally voice proclaims, “I'm so fluffy! I'm so fluffy I'm gunna die!” And then makes good on that proclamation by flopping over onto her back with her legs sticking straight into the air. When she topples over Surprise somehow manages to make a bleating sound like a goat.

Wait.

Wait just a second.

The realization hits me like a tidal wave. Revelation and illumination finally dawning, shedding light on the darkness I had been living under for so many years. I finally get it. It finally all makes sense.

“I get that get that reference,” I comment with a giggle. “That's Fluttershy's goat-faint from that episode with the dragon.”

Haha! I finally got a pony reference!

Surprise hops back to her feet, her fur snapping back to normal as she reaches across the room and yanks me over to herself for a hug. “Welcome to the herd, Geneva! You're an official brony now!”

“Woohoo?” I reply sheepishly.

Party preparations continue full tilt with the occasional hijinks between myself and my friends. Dust grows more adept with that static electricity trick of hers, though Surprise eventually gets her back for the balloon by dropping some confetti on her. Care to guess what happens when you drop a bunch of colorful paper on an electrically charged magical horse? Dust spends the next half an hour try to figure out how to discharge herself so she can get all the confetti off.

It's shocking just how normal and right this all feels. Almost as if I had done this sort of thing with my pegasus friends countless times before.

Soundwave is under my hooves at all times. He rubs on my legs and makes his 'pet me' meow every time my attention turns elsewhere. I'm pretty sure he's still upset that I didn't come home to feed him last night, but my cat is wide enough that he can survive one evening without his food. I'm actually kind of surprised that he can even recognize me still. I was expecting that he would freak out since I look and smell completely different. And speaking of smell he has gained this weird habit of obsessively sniffing at everywhere I sit. Must be a cat thing.

Once we round up the decorations with another half an hour left before my other friends begin to arrive I decide to settle down on the couch for a while. Soundwave is quick to join me. “You know, I think we're going to have to find someone else to take care of you for a while,” I sigh. He responds by climbing onto my shoulder and sticking his butt in my face.

Some things never change.

“You think one of your human buddies can watch your pets?” Dust asks.

I give a slow nod. That's such a weird way to think about it. Human friends. How easily can friendship extend between species? Given that hippogriffs exist I guess it isn't that hard. But it's still a strange thought. I'm not human anymore. And try as I might it's difficult to focus on my lost humanity. I can't even say my old name anymore. It's like grasping at the wind.

Though... given my special talent grasping at the wind may be a thing I'm quite capable of. I should give that a shot some time when I don't have to worry about blowing out all my windows with a pressure wave. I remember what Twilight's 'oops' with her magic was like and while I'm dead certain I don't have the power level of the show's princess of magic caution is still wise. These aren't forces that should be taken lightly.

As if reading my heavy thoughts about the dangers of misusing arcane power Dust sticks another magically charged balloon to my fur.

“Hey. No spacing out, bird brain,” Dust says with a leer. “The apartment will be crawling with humans soon. Are you ready for this?”

I swat the balloon and send it spiraling away through the air. Soundwave hops off me and goes chasing after it. “Yeah. I think we're ready. Time to make a good inter-species first impression.”

My front door is propped open and plastered with a full sized poster drawn in crayon and featuring Surprise's smiling face. Below the grinning pegasus head big blocky letters declare that yes this is the location of the party and yes the reader should feel free to come inside. Music gently wafts through the door and out into the hall do draw in listeners. It's an up-beat, hopping tune but not nearly energetic enough to scare anyone away. The kitchen table has been supplemented with a few folding tables retrieved from Surprise's inexplicable supply to hold additional platters of sweets, snacks, dips, and punch.

And one bowl of rainbow-colored salsa. Not like oil on water sort of rainbow, either. But a smooth red to violet color gradient from one side of the bowl to the other.

It had taken some effort to make a rainbow and squeeze a few drops of its prismatic color into the extra-spicy salsa, but after sampling it myself I've got to admit the trouble was worth it. I can't help but snicker at the memory of Dust and I arguing over the best way to fashion the thing while Surprise was busy cracking 'taste the rainbow' jokes.

There will probably be more in the near future.

My pony friends and I are all hiding in my room and waiting for the guests to arrive. Soon enough my ears twitch at the sound of two of my friends walking into my apartment. Surprise begins to giggle and I shush her. Now she's making strangled snickering noises instead. That's better, but not by much.

“Haha, what's going on here?” speaks up the first, Julie. She's a year or two younger than me I think and she normally comes to the meetings with her younger brother Jeb.

“Sweet, ponies! I didn't know Lance liked ponies. What's with the theme?” Jeb laughs. The youngest of our group and a die-hard brony fan. If you get him started he'll talk your ear off. I usually tuned his equine ramblings out. “Wow this stuff smells amazing. I wonder if we can just dig in.”

There's a pause.

“Well...” Julie speaks up. “Sounds like it according to this note. 'Feel free to take all you can eat, soon we'll all get to meet. With games and songs and laughter that never ends, I'm sure we'll all make the bestest of friends,'” she reads. “And it's signed by someone named Surprise.”

Jeb mutters something back through a mouthful of snacks.

By this time Surprise is nearly vibrating with excitement and Dust has taken to sitting on her to keep her from escaping.

Another three come in. Man these new ears are sensitive! I swivel them to track the people walking around on the other side of the door.

“Don't worry Lewis,” speaks up another new voice. Guh. I can never remember that guy's name. It's really embarrassing. “I'm sure she'll show up.”

“You don't think she just blew me off?” Lewis asks uncertainly.

Dust elbows me in the ribs. “Ooooh, Geneva's got a coltfriend!”

I flush and glower back at the aqua pegasus. “I do not! Lewis is my friend. And he isn't even a pony.”

The conversation continues beyond the door.

“Are you talking about that weird cosplaying girl from Sunday?” Julie laughs. “She seemed kind of sketchy to me.”

“She wasn't sketchy, she was just..” Lewis trails off.

“Sketchy,” Liz pipes up from near the snack tables. She must be the third person who came in.

The conversation soon turns to Surprise's choice of decorations.

“So what's up with all the pony stuff?” guy-I-can't-remember-the-name-of comments casually. “Ponies are great and all, but it's kind of weird.”

“Who cares?” Jeb laughs. “This food is amazing. Look out for that rainbow salsa stuff, though. It kicks like a horse.”

“So when is everyone else getting here?” Liz asks. “And where's Lance lurking around at?”

“Silas, Tim, and Cassandra gave me a call earlier. Said they can't make it,” that one guy says. “So that means no official teacher tonight. I guess we could just wing it. Or stuff ourselves with cookies until we pass out like Jeb is doing.”

Hmmm... If the other three aren't going to be able to make it then that means everyone who's coming to our little get together is already here. Good. It should be easier to deal with five people instead of eight.

I give a nod to Dust. “Release the Surprise.”

Lightning Dust gives me a little wing salute and lets Surprise up. The white pegasus bounces to her hooves and trots right out into the main room. It's inexplicable the way no one seems to notice her. She just walks right past the whole group of humans clustered around the snack table, closes my front door, and then switches the music over to a rousing rendition of Equestria Girls.

“Welcome to Geneva's Meet the Ponies surprise party!” Surprise announces.

Everyone turns at once to find a pair of bright violet eyes and an absurdly cheerful grin turned up toward them. “Hiya! I'm Surprise! I'm glad you like all the snacks and treats I made!”

Reactions are mixed.

That-one-guy and Jeb look somewhere between shocked and hopeful.

Lewis is confused as hell.

Julie appears to be waiting for the punchline.

And Liz faints on the spot.

“Well nopony thank me all at once,” Surprise hrmphs.

Lewis kneels down to tend to Liz while Jeb and Guy step toward a creature that they had only previously imagined. “Are... are you real?” Jeb asks, reaching out cautiously as if Surprise might suddenly vanish if he moves too quickly. “Ponies are real?”

Surprise looks thoughtful at that question. She glances back at her wings and flexes them. Swishes her tail. Winks both of her eyes in turn several times. Sticks her tongue out and begins waggling her whole head around causing her tongue to flop about in an absurd fashion.

“Yep!” the pegasus concludes. “I'm pretty sure I'm real!”

“Ohmygod I knew it!” Jeb gushes before wrapping his arms around Surprise for a hug. She giggles and returns the gesture. “I knew Equestria was real! How did you get here?”

That's my cue.

“We're still trying to figure that out, actually,” I announce as I trot into the room with Dust.

Guy and Jeb instantly turn their attention toward the increasing pony population in the room. I can nearly hear the silent exclamations of 'there are more of them?' that must be playing through their heads.

“It's Lightning Dust! Holy crap it's Lightning Dust!” Guy finally loses it. “Dear God you're actually here aren't you? You're actually real! The Lightning Blitz Spiral is easily the most amazing stunt in the show!”

Dust casually brushes a hoof against her coat. “Yeah, I don't like to brag. But I am pretty awesome.”

I swear you could smother someone with Dust's ego.

Jeb's grin is stretching nearly as wide as my goofy pegasus friend's at this point. “This is totally amazing! We've got Surprise and Lightning Dust and... uuh... a hippogriff?”

Of course.

Of course no one knows who I am.

“I'm Geneva Pressure Front,” I state with a deadpan sigh. “I was at the service yesterday and Lewis invited me to my own apartment.”

“Wait, you're Geneva?” Julie asks incredulously. Seems she's one of the few humans to keep a level head about all this. Then her eyes narrow slightly. “What do you mean this is your apartment? This is Lance's apartment.”

Oops.

That was a bit blunter than I had been planning to announce this.

“Let me tell you a little story about birthdays and cutie marks,” I begin.

By the time I finish describing what my friends and I have been going through the past few days I'm met with wonder, confusion, trepidation, and more than a little bit of skepticism. Thankfully playing the 'answer questions only I would know' game is about as easy as one might expect. And of course we're asked to prove that we aren't actually demons pretending to be magical pastel colored talking animals. That one is just as easy to resolve. Thankfully the good book has a nice little test regarding exactly that.

The demon part. Not the pony part.

This all inevitably leads to some very important questions.

“So are the cutie pox contagious? What are the chances I might turn into my OC?” Jeb inquires as he reaches a finger toward Dust's flank. She spots the motion and snaps at his hand with her tail.

“Eyes only, kiddo. Keep your hands off,” the aqua pegasus reminds him.

“The only people who have caught whatever this is,” I gesture at myself with a wing. “Are all twenty five years old and share a birthday on the first. Even then I don't know if everyone who was born that day is at risk. Though I'm pretty sure anyone else is safe.”

There's some hint of disappointment in Jeb's eyes. Though everyone else looks relieved.

“We have no idea why this is happening! But it's still super duper fun!” Surprise laughs. Liz had finally woken up again and after plenty of assurances from the others she calmed down. Petting Surprise seems to be putting her at ease. Part of Surprise's talent? Or just the normal human tendency to feel peaceful when petting something? Maybe a bit of both? Regardless of the reason I'm glad she isn't completely flipping out.

“Alright, listen up,” Dust calls out to draw all eyes to herself. “We're going to make a film announcing ourselves to the world in style. And there are probably other ponies out there who might like to know they aren't alone. And to do that we're going to need footage of this party to show ponies and humans can get along. Oh, and don't bother trying to tell anyone about what happened before we do our announcement. Because no one will believe you. Got it?”

Five heads nod with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“Good. That means talk and party and stuff. Geneva will be filming it. So try to act natural,” Dust says as she struts past her human onlookers and starts munching on cupcakes.

It's a little awkward at first, but I suspect that Surprise's unique party-pony presence quickly begins to loosen everyone up until they're enjoying themselves. Including Liz. Surprise's ability to bring cheer to everyone around her is without a doubt put to the test and she's busy passing that exam with flying colors. The white pegasus is busy singing and joking and laughing and suggesting just the right snack at all the right times to keep a smile on everyone's face.

Guy and Jeb are crowding around Lightning Dust and eating up every word she utters about our flight earlier in the day. I really do need to make a point of asking That Guy about his name. Waiting for someone else to use it in conversation is starting to get really embarrassing.

Lewis shuffles over toward my perch on the couch. I've been a little stand offish compared to the others if only because I've busy filming the party. My pony friends are a complete unknown to my human friends. It's a blank slate for them. But me? They know me. Or knew me. Or whatever. And it makes things really awkward. Lewis gestures at the spot next to me and I flip my tail out of the way so he can sit down.

My long time friend takes a deep breath while he fiddles with his fingers, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye every now and again. I've known Lewis longer than Surprise or Dust. I... think. I mean, I met Surprise and Dust in school, right? But I met Lewis when I was even younger. For some reason my brain is nagging at me that I'm wrong there, but I can't think of any reason why that would be the case. Those thoughts get filed away for later analysis.

“So,” he finally says after several false starts. “What should I call you? Lance or Geneva?”

I work my beak open and closed for a few seconds trying to formulate a reply. I have a sinking realizing that even if I wanted to be called by my old name I can't even seem to bring myself to say it. “Geneva.”

“How's the griffin thing going for you, Geneva?”

“Hippogriff,” I correct. “As strange as it sounds I really like it. Being able to fly is incredible. There's absolutely nothing to compare that experience to.”

“Yeah, I think I can see that,” Lewis laughs. “Really though, are you okay with this?”

I take a deep breath and ruffle my feathers. “I'm okay with it. But I'm not sure if I should be. I'm thrilled with being Geneva. It feels like this is who and what I should have always been. It feels right. But I don't know if that's what I think or what this... whatever it is has done to my mind.”

Lewis looks a bit worried when I turn my intense avian gaze on him. “I could be losing myself, Lewis. I could be turning into someone completely different and I don't think I would even notice. I don't think I can notice,” I can feel hairs in my mane beginning to spring free. “How is someone supposed to tell if who they are has changed? What if my human memories are being eroded right now and replaced with new ones? Our memories are who we are, Lewis. And if-”

I give a little squawk when he pulls me into a hug. My wings fidget and I can feel my tail flipping around.

“You're thinking about this too hard, Geneva,” Lewis says after breaking the embrace. I can see that his face has flushed and there's some sort of smell that I can't place. “And you're still acting like the same over-analytical dork that you've always been. You're just a lot pointier than before. Watch those claws.”

Lewis rubs at his arm and I offer a sheepish grin.

“Sorry. And thanks. Having a human friend tell me that means quite a bit,” I admit. “I'm not sure how easy it would be for the people who have been ponified to notice unusual behavior.”

My friend ruffles my mane and it takes all of my self-discipline not to flail at his arm.

“So do you think people will react well? To the video, I mean?” Lewis asks.

I look back out at the party and see exactly what I had hoped for but was fearful to expect. Ponies and humans interacting casually and naturally. Humans and ponies enjoying each others company as if this were a totally normal thing as opposed to the complete impossibility that it was only a few days prior.

And so I answer with a nod. “Yeah. I think it's going to work out. Some people will be worried of course. But that's just humans for you. Your species has been trained by the media for generations to expect aliens to arrive on your doorstep eventually. It's just that no one expected that we would be this colorful. Or... planted here on earth. Somehow.”

Somehow!

“'Your species?' You don't think there's any way to change you back?” Lewis finally breaches the question that's been bothering me.

“After discovering that magic is apparently a thing I can answer your question with a very firm maybe,” I laugh. “If one of the princesses has been thrown to Earth to then we might have a shot at it. Assuming they can figure out how to use their magic again without turning everyone into a cactus.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow at me.

Ha ha! I just made a pony reference that someone else didn't get! And so at last the circle is complete.

“I doubt this can be fixed with human technology, though. Bioengineering on this level is... geeze. I don't even know how many years away. So aside from a pretty purple pony princess getting dumped on our front porch who can magic my problem away then no dice,” I say with a shrug of my wings. “Unless of course this transformation just up and reverses itself as inexplicably as it started.”

That's a distinct possibility too!

“Would you want to?” my friend inquires.

I quirk my head to the side and peer at him with one eye. “Want to what?”

“You know. Get changed back into a human,” he clarifies. “Back into Lance.”

Do I?

I can tell by the face Lewis is making that my beak-clicking is getting on his nerves. It's a good question, though. Would I want to be human again? Would I give up flight? Would I give up the ability to experience the symphony of the sky?

“I... don't know,” I admit. “I would have to think about it.”

Lewis pats me on the back reassuringly. “Well dude, no matter what you do I'll stand by you. If any crazy government types show up to ship you away to a lab somewhere they'll have to go through me first.”

“Heh. They would have to catch me first,” I retort with more than a little smugness in my tone. “I'm a Wonderbolt after all.”

“Are you really, though?” my friend asks curiously. “As in really really? Or do you just look like one of them?”

I reply with a sputtering noise that shouldn't even be possible with a beak. “You're asking a pretty serious existential question there, buddy. I'm not even going to touch that one until I know more about what's going on.”

The tone of the conversation lightens up from there as we shot the breeze about old times and more than a little fun was made at my expense when I admitted that I found myself attracted to pony stallions now. Lewis agrees to take care of my pets while I'm going through this transitional stage of my life and I start hunting around for my extra key card. By the time I find the silly thing (what it was doing in my sock drawer I can't guess) I discover Soundwave busy sniffing at where I had been seated on the couch.

Liz offers some insight about why my cat might find the smell so interesting, “Maybe you smell like another cat to him? You are part lion, right?”

The implications there are more than a little disturbing and more laughter is had at my expense. I try to be as good natured about it as I can.

Perhaps the most amusing part of the evening is the rainbow eating contest that Dust insists on everyone partaking in. The rules are simple of course. Eat as much rainbow salsa as you can without chugging a gallon of milk until your mouth doesn't feel like it's on fire anymore. The salsa tastes amazing despite how hot it is and the faces people make while trying to handle the spiciness are hilarious. The fact that their faces flash through the various colors of the rainbow certainly helps add to the cartoonish appeal of the silly game. Brian (That Guy's name!) ends up winning the contest hands down. Dust sulks over losing, but the promise of a rematch next time they meet lifts her spirits.

Really though, it is for the best. The happier the mood of the party the better off we are. Though over the whole celebration of pony/human friendship a dark shadow is cast by the continued absence of Silver Lining.

For whatever weird reason I can't shake the feeling that regardless of the mess Silver might get himself into he would emerge unscathed. Maybe that's one of those vague cartoon-Geneva memories wheedling around inside my brain. But I have to admit that I'm glad for it. I really do want my friend to be alright even if he's a bit of an ass sometimes.

Some hours later our attention is drawn away from the blindfolded chaos of Surprise's game of Pin the Tail on the Pony by the sound of screeching tires outside. I turn to the nearby window and pull the shades apart only to feel my blood turn to ice inside my veins.

That's Silver's car.

And it looks out of control.

And it just wrapped itself around a tree in my apartment complex' parking lot.

And a pony-shaped object was just hurled through the windshield.

In a flash I pull my window open, rip the mesh screen out of the way, and bail into the open evening air. I'm on the ground at Silver's side just as he rolls to a halt next to the curb. My mind is racing. He can't possibly be dead, can he? Please please please don't let him be dead. Not like this. He doesn't deserve to die like this.

I push the panic down and begin checking for injury. I don't see any obvious signs of gashes or broken bones on the grey pegasus. As a matter of fact, it doesn't look like he's even suffered any abrasions from skidding across the pavement. There's not so much as a drop of blood in his curly silver mane.

Lights are starting to turn on. Doors are opening and I can hear voices. My pressure sense is telling me that there are people moving around.

Gingerly I reach out with a hand and give Silver a shake. “Come on buddy, we need to get out of here.”

“Uuugh...” Silver moans, his breath ripe with the scent of alcohol. “I don't feel good mom. I don't want to go to flight school today.”

Silver begins to groggily sit upright, blinking his bright blue green eyes. Gradually he focuses on me and rubs his face with a hoof. “Geneva...?”

At least he's alive.

My ear twitches as the sound of a car door slamming shut draws my attention. Standing there no more than ten feet away is none other than Mrs McCullough with several plastic bags in her hands. As her eyes settle on me she forgets about her grip and gravity takes over, sending dozens of cans of wet cat food rolling across the parking lot.

“You,” she hisses at me, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “I knew it.”

Silver and I exchange a glance.

“Well buck,” the grey pegasus swears. “Things went straight to hell, didn't they?”

Wherein Things go Straight to Hell

“I know who you are,” Mrs. McCullough says as she takes a few menacing steps closer.

My mind is a blur of motion. I need to find some way to get out of here and find a safe place to hide. And I need to carry Silver with me. I'm not sure if he's even figured out how to fly yet and his inebriated state really wouldn't lend him any favors even if he did. Come on Geneva, think!

Oh! The cloudmobile! I could just haul him up there! It's dark enough that people should lose track of us and-

“You're the alien who stole my lawn gnomes back in nineteen eighty three!” Mrs. McCullough screeches, pointing an accusing finger at me.

My train of thought hits a penny, jumps the tracks, sails through the air, and crashes in a mangled heap of mental metal. A small army of hobgoblins begin picking through the wreckage for any more loose change.

A few awkward seconds pass while my brain tries to reboot and process the accusation that I was just pinned with.

“I'm sorry, what?” I finally manage to squawk out.

“Don't you play coy with me, alien! I'm wise to your mind tricks!” the crazy cat lady continues.

My ears twitch toward the sounds of conversation and mutters of disbelief. The sounds of doors opening and parents telling children to stay put. The sounds of impending doom. People are starting to head toward the scene of the crash with phones in tow to take pictures or call emergency services. Probably both. And that means pictures of us. One picture could be written off as a hoax, but dozens from different angles? That would be far more difficult to explain.

Which means that now is the time to go.

I hook my arms under Silver's forelegs and spread my wings with a rush of wind that sends bits of paper, dust, fallen leaves, and other detritus swirling away. Thankfully this has the benefit of causing Mrs. McCullough to shield her eyes.

“Where are we going?” Silver slurs.

“Back to our space ship!” I reply a little louder than strictly necessary. “You'll never see your precious gnomes again!”

And with that I take to the sky while Mrs. McCullough shrieks curses at me. Hopefully when the press shows up they'll interview the crazy cat lady and receive an earful of incoherent gibberish. I feel kind of bad about indulging her delusion, but I'm protecting the safety of my friends here. That's a little more important.

Heh.

Delusions.

A few days ago if someone claimed that they had met a living breathing My Little Pony character they would have been pinned as crazy, too. Maybe lawn gnome stealing aliens aren't that far fetched in retrospect?

As I lift off into the sky my sensitive ears pick up voices raised in frustration toward uncooperative cameras. Quite a few in fact. Enough to make me wonder if the hobgoblins are finally on my side for once. Certainly took their sweet time.

I dump Silver onto the cloudmobile and give my wings an irritated ruffle while I peer down at the ground below. Humans are beginning to cluster around Silver's ruined car searching for any signs of the driver who had so obviously been thrown from the vehicle. Mrs. McCullough is waving her arms around and shouting, no doubt about how the tiny horse that was driving the car was abducted by a gnome-stealing alien.

Ever so slowly I let out a breath and relax. The situation was bad, but it could have been a lot worse. We were lucky that Silver wasn't hurt despite his crash. We were lucky that visibility was poor and apparently several phones were on the fritz. We were lucky that the only person who got a clear look at us was the crazy old cat lady. It was bad, sure. But despite being a pretty major screw up on our part it still had a...

A silver lining.

I glance back at Silver. He's busy batting a tuft of cloud back and forth between his hooves absently. There isn't a scratch on him. Not so much as one single bruise. And there on his rear is emblazoned a grey raincloud with a bright silver outline.

“Hey Silver?” I say.

“Hmm?” the pegasus grunts back as he tries to focus his blurred vision on me.

“When you were still human did you ever have any major injuries? Broken bones or anything like that?” I ask. I've got a hunch, you see.

“Nope. Hehe. Always been lucky like that,” he replies. He follows up that statement with a glower. “Luck ran out with this pony thing, though.”

“I think we found your special talent, Silver,” I say with a bemused smile.

My friend provides me with a look equal parts clueless and unamused. He can tell that this is a pony thing, but I don't think he knows what a special talent actually is. May as well explain, right?

“A special talent. It's what your butt-symbol represents. The field where your pony magic is most focused,” I says. Silver begins waving a hoof in a 'get on with it' sort of way. “I think your special talent is having a silver lining to whatever misfortune befalls you. Some upside to every disaster.”

“So you're saying I'm really lucky,” Silver snorts. “I knew that already. I've always been lucky.”

“But now you have pastel pony magic to back that up,” I point out.

“Well buck, isn't that great? I've got magical luck. Can my crazy magical luck do anything about my little change in species problem?” Silver asks.

My response consists of fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Didn't think so,” Silver huffs. “This darn curse is censoring my language too, isn't it?”

I can't help but snicker slightly as I nod. I had noticed that Dust's language and even some of mine seems to be hitting the same mental blocks that our old human names do, but Silver seems to have it really bad.

“Buck. Bucking Tartaurus. Horse-apples. Plot. Gosh darn it. Whorse. Mule. Son of a jenny,” Silver rattles off in a complete deadpan.

Try as I might to keep a straight face I'm failing miserably.

Silver is getting pretty upset. “What the buck! Seriously? What the actual buck. Apparently it isn't bad enough that I get turned into a girly cartoon character, so now everything I say needs to be kid friendly. Is that what's going on here? Are the rest of you getting saddled with this load of horse-apples too?”

“Whatever this is has mental changes packaged with the physical ones,” I admit as I glance over the edge of the cloudmobile again. The street far below has been lit up with the flashing lights of emergency responders. They're probably pretty confused by the lack of any injured people considering the state of Silver's car. And it looks like the local news van has just arrived, too. A combination car-wreck alien sighting was probably a bit too much to resist.

Silver wobbly joins me peering down at the chaos below.

“What were you thinking, anyway?” I ask.

“Oh, just decided to take a spin. Drive around town. Come see my friends, crash into a tree,” Silver replies non-nonchalantly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time after I woke up as a pony, got smashed, and completely wrecked my house.

I decide not to press the issue further, turning my attention back to the scene far below. It looks like the police are collecting something from the street and Silver's car. I focus my vision and to my surprise it actually seems to zoom in.

“What do you see with those eagle-eyes, bird brain?” Silver asks.

“I think they're collecting the feathers you molted all over your car,” I reply. “And whatever scraped off you when you skidded across the street.”

“Well buck. There goes whatever cover you guys were hoping for,” Silver mutters. I don't quite follow, so he continues. “Someone had to have seen us down there. The police are told there were a pair of big winged critters and they find some huge feathers and a bunch of fur spread around. They test the hair and it isn't human. They send it back to our lab and...?”

Silver motions for me to finish the thought. “And they find the same thing we did. Alien DNA. Which leads people to wonder what an alien was doing driving a car through town. What would they announce, though? Aliens are among us! They're stealing our cars and crashing them into trees!”

“Not quite War of the bucking Worlds material, is it?” Silver snarks. “If you're feeling really crazy we could go smash the horse-apples out of of the lab before they can run the tests. I don't know about the rest of you pretty ponies but I can kick like a cannon now.”

Huh. That would certainly buy us some time. The samples would have to be shipped off to another lab. But by the same token if we manage to get ourselves caught it would be big trouble. That and I'm not too keen on wrecking millions of dollars worth of lab equipment just because we made a dumb mistake.

“I don't think that's a very good plan. Though I guess we can run it past everypony else?” I offer.

“Where is everypony else, anyway? You didn't actually have that get-together at your apartment, did you?” Silver asks skeptically.

“Well...”

“Oh my gosh you did! Hahaha! You're such a boy-scout Geneva, I swear. Or a girl-scout, I guess. Hehe,” my friend chuckles.

We don't have to wait very long until Surprise and Dust join us on the cloudmobile. Surprise is wearing four pairs of my incredibly awful improvised saddlebags stuffed full of odds and ends from the party. Thankfully she had the state of mind to retrieve my phone as well. Without it we would have lost all our footage of the party. After a quick debriefing of our situation we all agree that falling back to Surprise's place is probably a good idea. Sticking around the scene of the crime for any longer than we have to is a pretty awful plan. Silver can't help much with the propulsion of our cloudmobile, but it turns out that three sets of wings are more than enough to send our cartoony little air-car puttering around the night sky.

It's nice and quiet at Surprise's place. At least it as after Silver passes out in a stupor on the floor after discovering the white pegasus' alcohol supply. That can't possibly be healthy for him, but I can sympathize with how he's feeling.

With much dread and trepidation we turn on the eleven oh clock news to find out just how doomed we are.

The Action! News Six opening jingle plays and we're soon met by the familiar sight of talking heads sitting behind a desk.

“Good evening, I'm James Jackson,” says the first news anchor.

“And I'm Amanda Wight,” the second adds.

“And this is Action News Six at eleven. Tonight's top story, the alien invasion has begun and they're stealing our cars.”

I face-palm and give a defeated groan.

“Or at least that's what some eye witnesses claim. Let's go to Sara Parker with the details.”

The shot switches to a woman (Sara?) interviewing some guy I don't recognize recounting the events of earlier in the night. “So I heard the crash outside and I come running out to see what happened. And I can hear some yelling about somethin' and all of a sudden I see this angel or something flying into the sky! I swear he must have had like twenty foot wide wings! And I think he was carrying the guy from the crash,” the man gestures toward the sky. “And he flies off and he's gone. Craziest thing I ever seen.”

Next comes an interview with a wide-eyed little girl. “She was a pony! My friends and I were playing hide and seek and a pony got thrown right out of the car! It was really loud and scary but then another pony came and flew her away! I hope she's okay.”

And then of course there's Agnes McCullough, eye witness. The old cat lady looks even more deranged on camera than she does usually. “It was an alien I tell you! The same alien that stole my lawn gnomes back in eighty three! It even admitted it! Now they've come back for my cats! But they won't get 'em, no sir! Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Finally the camera frames a police officer. “It's all pretty strange. We found hair and feathers of all things on the glass. Those are being sent to the lab now. But there's no sign of blood anywhere and no one reported finding the driver. Unless you believe the account that he got abducted after being thrown from his car. It's the darnedest thing.”

A picture of Silver as a human is displayed on the screen along with several bullet points of information about him. Uh oh.

“The car belonged to this man, Steve Edwards, a twenty five year old resident of Arcata California who we have been unable to contact for comment on this story,” the Sara says. “Though many witnesses claim that they tried to take videos or pictures of the allegedly sighted alien they were apparently plagued by a rash of faulty batteries and blurry images. The only clue we have regarding the mysterious sighting is this artist's rendition of the creature Agnes McCullough claimed to see.”

Cut to a sketch of what looks like a stereotypical 'grey' alien with a bird's beak and a cat's tail.

“That doesn't look like me at all,” I deadpan.

“Authorities assure us that everything is being investigated and that no one has been hurt in the crash. But maybe just to be on the safe side you should be on the lookout for angels, aliens, and ponies. This is Sara Parker reporting.”

The camera returns to the news room and the talking heads begin yammering back and forth at each other, but none of us are really listening at this point. Surprise stomps a hoof on the remote and somehow manages to shut the television off.

“Really though. That sketch was nothing like me,” I insist.

“I thought the eyes were pretty spot on,” Dust snickers. “Though I'll admit you're a lot fatter.”

I shoot a death-glare at her.

“You think it might be because of Silver's talent?” Surprise muses. “Why the cameras were all wonky and the crazy lady was extra-crazy?

“It makes about as much sense as your talent does, Surprise,” Dust laughs. “Too bad you got to Silver first. I would have loved to get the chance to strut my stuff in front of everyone.”

“Hey, save it for the video. We can start on that first thing tomorrow once Silver manages to fight off his hangover. The sooner we get it done and out to the Internet the better. Because I'm willing to bet that the police are going to be checking on his house tomorrow and they're going to discover it bucked to Tartaurus and back,” I say. “They'll find more feathers and start connecting the dots. The average Joe might not get the significance of an alien DNA sample, but anyone with the right background will instantly know what they've got. And once word gets around I'm willing to bet that authorities will start taking pony sightings very seriously.”

“This is so perfect,” Dust muses. “We've already got the talking heads' attention because of Silver being an idiot. Now all we've got to do is supply the follow up! They'll practically be begging to meet us.”

“Yeeeaah but we need to wait until tomorrow!” Surprise announces. “Because I'm really sleepy.”

Just to prove that statement she collapses in a heap on her chair and begins snoring loudly. Dust and I exchange a look and then carry our manic friend to her bed. Dust heads off to the guest room again while I plop the utterly passed out Silver onto the couch.

Which begs the question 'where am I going to sleep?'

I'm struck with a spark of inspiration.

I head outside and pull a chunk off our cloudmobile which turns out to be pretty simple work. Talons cut through clouds nicely it would seem. Once I have a bed-sized piece free I fly it back down into Surprise's house and park the cloud over her bath tub just in case it starts dripping at some point in the night. Vola! Cloud bed! I swat the lights off with my tail and settle onto my perch. After tonight I honestly doubt if I'll ever be able to sleep in a normal bed again. To say that it's like sleeping on air is a vast understatement. Air isn't half as comfortable as a cloud.

“Well. Today was pretty exciting,” I say to the ceiling. “First day as a hippogriff and I've already learned to fly and saved my friend from an angry mob bent on Instagramming him to death. I'm really glad Silver didn't get himself killed. And I'm pretty pleased with how Lewis took the whole 'Surprise! Your best friend is a mythological animal now!' That really gives me hope. You know. That people will respond to ponies well. If everyone can make it through this mess without getting hurt or killed that would be great.”

“I'm a bit worried over this car crash thing. I doubt the government will start flailing their arms around and saying that we're being invaded by aliens. Even if... that might be what's going on? I really hope I'm not unknowingly part of an alien shock-troop force. Though that would make us the least threatening looking alien invasion ever. Heh. Anyway. Whoever gets their hands on this information? Just... make sure everyone keeps a cool head over it, alright? Pony concentration camps would be a sad development.”

“I've been thinking about what Lewis said. About whether or not I would even want to be human again. I don't think I'll miss it. After tasting the sky I don't think I would be able to stand being chained to the ground again. From my experiences so far I really do think my friends and family would except me like this. If I can be accepted and I don't totally lose myself this is a pretty okay deal. And once ponies are public knowledge I might even be able to get some sort of job that caters to my new talents. As strange as this sounds I'm kind of glad this happened. I... hope that's alright. That you aren't upset with me or anything. That this is all some big test that I'm failing like a complete idiot.”

“It would still be nice if I knew why this was happening to us, though. If you could drop me some kind of clue that would be great. No pressure though.”

Slowly I drift away to sleep on my bed of clouds.

“Everypony get your bucking tails moving! We're meeting Rainbow Dash half way!” Silver Lining bellows as we take off like rockets into the sky. It's dark and visibility is bad, but that isn't going to slow us down. We're the Wonderbolts, the greatest fliers Equestria has to offer.

Our peaceful nation is in turmoil. There are reports that Discord betrayed Princess Celestia and some are fearing the worst. He already hit Canterlot and now he's bouncing around erratically and stomping out pockets of resistance one at a time. Rainbow Dash is on her way to Canterlot to muster what defenses are left and we just deployed from Cloudsdale to provide much needed backup.

We've been spread too thin lately what with those monsters from the bowels of Tartaurus clawing their way up to the surface and causing trouble. And Discord picked this the worst possible moment to spring his gambit and stab us all in the back.

My wings strain against the sky as I streak toward our estimated rendezvous point with Dash. She normally leaves a blazing contrail miles long, so spotting her isn't very hard. Though I feel my my heart leap into my throat when I spy the pitched battle taking place in the distance.

“What do you see with those eagle-eyes, bird brain?” Silver yells at me over the howl of the wind.

“Rainbow Dash has engaged Discord!” I holler back.

“Dusty! Geneva!” Surprise orders. “You're really fast! Get down there and help her!”

Lightning Dust doesn't have to be told twice to save her friend. In a flash she's off like a bolt of lightning, her zig-zagging contrail crackling behind her. I feel my magic welling up inside me as I clap my wings together, sending a rolling pressure wave behind Dust that kicks her into super-sonic speeds. Another flap and I launch myself after her. I might not have the raw speed of Rainbow Dash or even Lightning Dust, but my precision air magic can give them even more of an edge.

Then the impossible happens.

Rainbow Dash's body is devoured by harsh white light, leaving her cry of pain lingering in the sky.

“Wonderbolt down!” I hear Silver bellowing behind me. “Fall back!”

But we're already committed to the attack.

And Discord has already spotted us.

Dust gives a feral scream of rage and halts her flight on a bit. Her tremendous kinetic and magical energy is transferred into a bolt of golden lightning with a core as hot as the surface of Celestia's own sun. My pressure wave weaves together with it, creating a spiraling vortex of magic that shrieks toward the treacherous draconequus with untold destructive power.

He holds out a fork and catches it, transforming it into a little reddish brown sphere that he pops in his mouth.

“Mama mia! Now that's a spicy-a meatball!” Discord comments in a mockery of a Bitalian accent. I'm not sure what that absurd looking blue and red outfit he's suddenly wearing has to do with anything.

That's more than Dust can take. She flings herself and Discord only to freeze in place when he touches a single talon to her forehead. He begins talking to her, but with the wind and the rain and the fact that he isn't projecting his voice anymore I can't make out the words. I can see the tongues of white flame beginning to lick across my friend's body and I pump my wings even harder to bridge the remaining distance.

Not fast enough.

Dust dissolves in a blaze of white.

Just like Rainbow Dash did moments before.

“Well well well! It looks like I've got a whole gaggle of would-be heroes trying to stop my games today!” comes Discord's voice from right between my ears. Much to my dismay the draconequus has shrunk to the size of a hobgoblin and is hovering inches above my head.

I flail my claws at him quite ineffectually.

“Get off me! What did you do to my friends!” I hiss.

“Oh tut tut, where's the fun in just telling you? Honestly kids these days, always with the instant gratification,” he sneers as he clenches his eagle claw and suddenly my body is crushed in an iron-hard telekinetic grasp. “But how about a clue? Riddles always make for such a wonderful time.”

I make a wheezing noise as I feel my lungs being smashed.

“Mmm, I'll take that as a yes. You and your friends get to play a little game of hide and seek. I'm sure you'll all enjoy it immensely. Once you've all managed to find each other something something mumbling about destiny and the magic of friendship. And that's the only hint you get! Don't bother asking for more. Not that you'll remember it of course,” Discord laughs as he pokes me in the forehead.

My world turns to searing white as I feel my body begin to burn away.

I'm sure that I'm screaming in pain as the horrible emptiness chews its way through flesh and mind alike, but despite that I can hear Discord with terrifying clarity.

Day Four
Twenty One Days Remain

In exactly the fashion of the movies I awaken with a start, sitting bolt upright and gasping as I claw at the deadly white nothingness that is trying to devour me whole.

Turns out the nothingness was just the shower curtain and I pull the whole thing down on top of myself.

With no small measure of indignation I disentangle myself from the cheap curtain and roll off my cloud and onto the tile floor. Judging from the light coming in through the window it must be early morning. Maybe five am or so? The birds are starting to chirp at least. My ears are tracking them outside and my stomach is growling. I really need to make a point of eating some of those steaks.

I rear up on my hooves, place my hands on the edge of the bathroom counter to steady myself, and flick the light on. Unsurprisingly I find a hippogriff staring back at me. I'm not met with alien unfamiliarity. I'm simply looking at my reflection. My eyes are bloodshot, though. With a sigh and brush my mane out of my face and splash some water onto my fur.

That dream had felt like more than a dream.

It was the ending of My Little Pony that never aired. The ending that only I seem to know about. All seen through Geneva Pressure Front's perspective in perfect detail and clarity. I give my beak a click as thoughts begin rolling around in my mind. “Memories removed, body confused. Five score divided by four.”

That's really familiar.

“From the Gettysburg address. Fourscore and seven years ago. So eighty seven. So one-score would be twenty years,” I babble at my reflection as I begin drawing a brush through my mane. Hopefully Surprise won't mind. “Fivescore would be one hundred years. Divided by four is... twenty five...”

The brush clatters against the counter top and suddenly my limbs feel like jelly. I drop to the floor as my muscles twitch and shake. Strands of hair begin popping free from my mane and tail like rats leaping from a sinking ship.

“Twenty five years... memories stripped away... b-body changed. A curse that breaks after a quarter of a century. Tee hehe... it makes sense. It all makes horrible sense in its clarity,” I titter, though to whom I'm not sure. “I'm not a human turned into Geneva Pressure Front. I'm Geneva Pressure Front turned into a human.”

I wrap my arms and wings around my body, hugging myself tight.

“Oh God oh God oh God what do I do?” I cry out in desperation. Suddenly Chuck's prayer for me takes on a sort of awful ironic comedy. He asked that I would be restored to my true self. Hahahahaahaha! Well little did we know that's exactly what was happening to me! Be careful what you wish for, right?

I don't think I was ever a human to begin with. Not really. Sure I might have looked like one. Sure I might have even believed I was one. But my soul has always been Geneva's. And my hippogriff body was just warped into a human shape by Discord's chaos magic. And now that the magic has faded my body has reasserted itself.

What am I? Who am I? The naked soul of a hippogriff scoured of her identity. Torn away from another world and flung through the vast gulfs of the cosmos. And conceived as a human?

No. We were all born on the same day. There's too much variance in gestation times for that to be the answer.

No, oh God no.

I replaced a human. I was given the life of someone who should have been. And now that the curse has lifted he dies so that I can live. Will my old memories return like my old body? Will they over-write my human memories like my body was over-written? Am I really going to fade away without even noticing that I'm gone? I can live with being a hippogriff. I can live with being Geneva. I... I think I can even live with regaining my old memories and remembering my old life. That would change who I am now so fundamentally, but isn't that what happens as we get older and experience new things?

But the thought of losing my human memories like I lost my human body terrifies me.

All of my worst fears seem to be coming true.

“I don't want to die,” I whimper. “I don't want to be forgotten. Please!” I sob and cry and pour out my soul and tears. “Please don't let me lose myself. Don't let my soul vanish into that same void that devoured me before! Don't leave me alone... please... help me...”

Help me.

A spark.

An idea.

I can do more than just lay here feeling sorry for myself.

I haul myself out of the bathroom, find an empty composition book, and begin to write. To write everything I can remember. Everything that I won't, that I can't, let myself forget. Everything that I refuse to surrender to oblivion.

I am Geneva Pressure Front.

And I will not allow Lance Hopkins to be consigned to the void.

I'm not sure how much time passes as I sit there scribbling away, though eventually Silver's stirrings manage to get a twitch out of my ear.

“Uuggh... Geneva? What are you doing?” the grey pegasus moans.

“Writing a biography for Lance Hopkins,” I reply matter of factly.

“What?” Silver mumbles. “What are you talking about? Why are you writing a biography about yourself?”

I don't answer his question.

Lightning Dust does.

“Fivescore divided by four,” she states as she trots into the room. The words send an unwholesome tingle down my spine.

“Your memories removed, your body confused...” Silver echoes. “That dream I had-”

“That we had. That we all had,” Dust clarifies. “Our last few minutes before Discord cursed us and kicked us out of Equestria. These are our real bodies, Silver. We were ponies the whole time. We just forgot because of Discord's bucking curse!”

Silver falls silent as he processes that.

“So that means Equestria is real. Woohoo, right?” Surprise interjects with none of her usual mirth. When did she get in here? “But Discord beat all the good guys and has been in charge there for the past twenty five years. Boooooo!”

“But why is Geneva writing a biography about herself?” Silver asks more insistently.

“Because I don't know if I'll remember it in the next few days,” I say.

Realization dawns in Silver's eyes. “Oh... Well. On that somber thought I'm going to go pee and drink water until every single sound stops bucking my ears,” and then he's off to do exactly that! One of the many banes of hangovers.

I tense up slightly when I feel Surprise's hooves wrap around me for a hug, though I quickly relax. “Don't be a big worry wort, Geneva. I don't think you're going to forget about being a human. That would be really sad and not even a little bit comedic!”

What does that have to do with anything?

“Thanks Surprise. I still feel like I need to do this though,” I admit.

“Well girls, I guess we know why this happened to us,” Dust comments casually. “Realizing that I'm actually Lightning Dust was a bit jarring. But I'm okay with it,” she says, gritting her teeth with frustration. “Because this means I might still get another shot at that bastard Discord.”

“How are we going to do that, though?” Surprise asks. “Not to be a killjoy mopey-mcmoperson, but he's really tough! And we don't even know how to get back to Equestria.”

“We play hide and seek...” I mutter. My friends both glance at me. “Something Discord said to me right before I got fried. That this is a big game of hide and seek. Maybe we need to find everypony who was banished here. Or maybe that'll just spring an even bigger trap. Discord is as crazy as a sack of cats after all.”

Both of my friends look thoughtful. Silence reigns for a solid minute, a near miracle with Surprise around. Though of course she breaks the magic eventually.

"Discord is really mean," Surprise humphs. For added effect she braces her front legs over her chest and looks as cross as possible.

"Yeah?" Dust replies with an eyebrow quirk. "Did you just realize that?"

"But think about it Dusty! Even if we can get back to Equestria this is still really bad! If we leave then we leave behind all our friends and family who are still humans. They'll be sad and miss us. But if we stay here on Earth then Discord gets to keep being mean to everypony in Equestria and we can't let him do that either!" Surprise explains. "All the answers he left us with are bad ones that hurt people's feelings. It's a dichotomy of sadness and disharmony! Do you know what you do with those Dusty?"

"What?" the aqua pegasus asks.

Surprise gives a wide grin. "You buck the bad guy offering it in the shin. Then you pick the third choice that he didn't want you to see! Usually it's hidden behind the curtain with the controls to the giant floating head."

"In other words if we can win this, we'll have to win it by playing a game Discord doesn't expect," I sigh. "But we don't know what the game is, the rules are missing, our cards are all blank, and the dealer won't stop grinning like he knows something we don't."

Dust shrugs. "We'll kick his flank. End of story."

“This revelation wasn't all bad. At the very least we can tell the humans where we came from and why we're here now,” I muse. “We aren't alien invaders. We aren't victims of some disease anyone else has to worry about. We're not even the butt of a world-wide hobgoblin prank. We're refugees from another universe. We're strangers in a strange land.”

Wherein Revelations Are Dealt With

The PD had gotten the call from the landlord that morning. Apparently he had seen the news and decided to go check on his tenant just in case something was up. Turns out something was. While the front door looked intact on initial inspection as soon as the thing was touched it fell off its hinges. The inside house was completely ransacked. Furniture was smashed, walls were kicked in, doors were broken, and cabinets were splintered. But oddly enough nothing above four feet or so had been touched. Almost as though an angry hobbit who missed second breakfast had come through with a sledgehammer.

A man shouldn't ever underestimate a hobbit who missed second breakfast.

Especially a hobbit with a sledgehammer.

The stale vomit and broken bottles suggested a drunken rage, but that still didn't explain where Mister Edwards disappeared to. Nor did it explain why a giant crow had molted all over the house. More feathers and hair identical to what had been found at the crash site was spread around everywhere. They had gotten the results early from their forensics lab, the hair wasn't human. Obviously the feathers weren't either, but that went without saying. Some of the samples had been sent off to the university lab for further testing. Maybe they could figure out what the hell had been driving that car.

Though by far the strangest revelation had been the nature of some of the less acute damage to the wood work.

“Sir? Come and take a look at this.”

It was absolutely unmistakable. Here and there scattered about the house were crescent-shaped imprints pounded into floor.

“What do these look like to you?”

The officer shook his head at that question. “I don't know. Like hoofprints almost? But it's way too small to be a horse.”

“So you might say...” Detective Richard 'Sidewinder' Morgan said. He removed the sun glasses he had inexplicably chosen to wear indoors. “We've got a little pony problem.”

“Yeeeeeaaaaaah!” Surprise suddenly shouts in the middle of eating a bowl of oat pellets, causing everyone else in the room to jump. No explanation is forthcoming and she continues munching away at her breakfast whilst humming cheerfully.

Once the meal is over Surprise and Dust start chattering back and forth about ideas for our upcoming presentation. I continue jotting down whatever important details about my life as a human I can think of. Writing down all the memories, both good and bad, is kind of therapeutic. Before long Silver joins us as well. He still looks as haggard as one might expect from a hungover pony. But if time can heal body altering chaos hexes I'm pretty sure that time can heal a hangover, too.

“So,” Silver says. “Have we got any bucking idea what we're doing now? Because after that M. Night style 'he was a pony the whole time!' twist I'm at a bit of a loss. I take it that any chance we have at being human again is pretty much shot?”

“Unless we ask Discord really super nicely to change us back again,” Surprise points out. “But he might just turn us into barn owls instead. Discord doesn't seem like the sort of person who would do repeat performances.”

Clashes with his whole 'embodiment of chaos' thing.

“Assuming Geneva's hide and seek idea works,” Dust snorts. She's been a bundle of nervous energy and indignant frustration all morning without something to vent at. I would suggest she go kick some clouds, but getting spotted isn't on our itinerary.

Yet.

“I must have missed something while my bladder was exploding,” Silver says. “What hide and seek idea are we talking about? And an unrelated question, why the hay was there a cloud in the bathtub?”

I decide to field an answer to both. “I was sleeping on the cloud last night since you had the couch.”

“Ooooh, was that comfy? I should try that tonight!” Surprise interjects.

“It was!” I gush back. “It was an amazing night's sleep. Except for the rude awakening by the flashback.”

“Getting off topic now, ladies,” Silver deadpans. “About this hide and seek plan?”

“Discord said something about a game of hide and seek with everypony else and hinted that something would happen once the game was over,” I recount. “I don't know if that means we have to find the other Wonderbolts or the Mane Six or just everypony who got banished to Earth.”

“Oh that sounds like a bucking wonderful idea,” Silver snarks. “Let's trust the deranged chaos god for advice. I'm sure that'll turn out great for us.”

“Hey, worked for Twilight and the girls in Return of Harmony,” Dust points out. “They just got distracted by the hedge maze thing. But if he gave you a straight forward hint then maybe it is a trap.”

“Or maaaaaybe that's what he wants us to think!” Surprise reasons. “He knows that we would think that it's a trap and ignore it even though we shouldn't! But then he would know that we know so maybe the not-trap trap really is a trap! But then he would know that we know that he knows that we-mrph!”

Silver interrupts the torrent of verbal absurdity by shoving a hoof into Surprise's mouth. “Head-ache's coming back, time for Surprise's ridiculous recursive rambling to stop.”

The white pegasus pulls away giggling. “But I'm not writing anything, silly! Geneva is!”

What?

“Eerr, anyway. This is our only real lead, trap or not. And I get the feeling that this is all a game to Discord,” I say. “I don't know how we'll find everypony else short of them deciding to expose themselves, but our interview should help. Once it's common knowledge that ponies are out there that should diminish the fear of being caught or abused. Hopefully.”

“That still might leave a ton of ponies who are just hiding in the woods or something,” Dust points out. “How are we going to find them?”

“With the pony radar!” Surprise states matter of factly.

Blank looks follow.

Surprise reaches a hoof into her curly day glow yellow mane and whips out a horse-shoe shaped device with a green screen covered in a black grid. The blank looks don't abate in the least.

“Where did...?” I begin, only to have the question die half way through as my brain struggles to cope with Surprise's latest display of flagrant impossibility.

“I like to keep it around in case of pony-finding emergencies,” Surprise doesn't-explain with a sagely nod.

“Why didn't you use that thing when we were worried about Silver?” Dust asks incredulously.

“Because it wouldn't have been funny then, duh!” the loopy pegasus replies. “And I wouldn't have gotten to do the CSI joke. Or get to make the James Bond reference in chapter twelve! And we already found Silver, so it wouldn't know to look for him.”

There is an unspoken resolution between Dust, Silver, and myself not to probe any further at that remark.

Dust finally breaks the awful silence. “So how does it work?”

“The closest pony that we haven't found yet appears on here when you turn it on,” Surprise presses a hoof against the pink heart-shaped button on the machine. Did I mention the thing is decked out in the most girly of pastel colors possible? Because it is. As soon as the machine is active the display turns a deep purple and a little lavender picture of a rearing pony begins flashing just east of the center indicator.

East. Maybe even nearby?

Mysteries aside this thing is going to be really useful.

“Okay, so. What order are we doing this in?” Dust asks. “Meet the ponies video then interview then start seeking?”

“It'll make hunting for everypony else a lot easier,” I reason. “We won't have to worry so much about sneaking around if people already know about us.”

“Exposing ourselves is a bad idea,” Silver pipes up suddenly.

“But what about the interview?” Dust complains. “How will everyone get to see how awesome I am if we don't go on the news?”

“To Tartaurus with the news,” Silver growls. “I said it before, Geneva. We're all walking Nobel Prizes. You're too darn trusting for your own good. If we get cornered people are going to want to detain us and test us. That bucker Discord said that this is a game of hide and seek? Well I think we're supposed to be doing both. Seeking and hiding at the same time. And if we get caught it's game over, man. Game. Bucking. Over.”

“Aaww... I wanted to see if I could get the news room to do a sing along with me,” Surprise whimpers. “But at least we can still do the Meet the Ponies video, right?”

Silver rubs at his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think we can do that. It won't require us to be crammed into a room surrounded by humans for a couple bucking hours. We can film it and upload it without putting ourselves in danger. Most people will probably just think it's a hoax. At least until they spot their first pony.”

Dust is glowering over the loss of her chance at the spotlight. The news interview was her idea after all.

“Alright then everypony,” I say. “Let's make some history.”

Detective Morgan scanned over the e-mail for the fifth time and found that he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. The results from the university lab had come back with no matches to known animals. There was a lot of scientific jargon that went right over his head, but the scientist's summary of what the findings meant where easy enough to understand.

Nothing from Earth has DNA like that.

“Mother of God,” the detective mutters. “The crazy cat lady was right.”

The day got no stranger when they received a call from someone out in the sticks who claimed that they had cornered a mutated alien horse thing in their barn.

We set up a backdrop of cloud to make it impossible to tell where we are filming from. Though I guess that probably won't matter much when we upload this over Surprise's YouTube account. Still, the fluffy clouds make for a nice background. Surprise, Silver, and Dust all seat themselves on second layer of cloud hovering just off the floor. Surprise's rug is probably going to be pretty wet by the time we're done, but sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.

My friends know what they each want to talk about and since this isn't live editing out blunders should be easy enough. I start recording, give a thumbs up, and Surprise begins to blather brightly. Hopefully her knack for spreading cheer could transfer across monitors.

Channel Six had gotten plenty of hoax calls and e-mails since their top story was aired the other night. People have trouble resisting such an obvious opportunity for a prank when the subject was so absurd. Strange, but absurd. But as peculiar as it may seem other reports had been filtering in that suggested something very real was afoot.

A private pilot swore up and down that he had seen a tiny green winged horse romping around above the fog in the previous day's afternoon. Another report had come in of someone finding the rear window of their parked car smashed in by horse-crap that had apparently fallen out of the sky. Other strange pony-related sightings were being reported around the country, though nothing had been substantiated.

Then they got an e-mail with the subject, 'Meet the Ponies'.

The body of the electronic letter was simple enough. It stated that the sender knew what happened last night and included a link to a recently uploaded YouTube video that would supposedly explain everything. The video quickly made its way around the office. And for good reason.

It opened with three stunningly realistic looking pegasus ponies sitting on a cloud. Such a creature could be animated with a computer of course, but if this was a fake it was a very professional looking one. The contrast between the expertly rendered ponies and the amateur nature of the rest of the video was positively jarring.

The white pegasus with the poofy yellow mane spoke first.

“Hi out there everyhuman and everypony on the Internet! I'm Surprise and these are my friends Silver Lining and Lightning Dust. My super-wonderful pal Geneva is here too, but she's filming this so you can't see her!”

Their names appeared below each of them in a little caption. The aqua and grey pegasus both waved at the camera and Surprise continued.

“So you're probably wondering right now why we look so real and the answer is really really really simple! It's because we are! Thaaaaaat's right! We're real live magical talking ponies! No tricksy tricks, no smoke and mirrors, no computer graphics, just grade-A officially certified in the flesh ponies!”

Then the aqua pegasus speaks up.

“We weren't always ponies, though. Before our twenty fifth birthday on the first of May we were regular old boring humans just like anyone else. I was a high school coach, my friend Surprise owned a party supply shop, and Silver and Geneva? They both worked at a lab at the local university. But when we hit fivescore divided by four we started turning into the testament to awesomeness you see before you!”

Lightning Dust fell silent and Silver Lining picked up where she left off. He didn't sound nearly as enthusiastic as the other two.

“So if you know anyone who turned twenty five on the first of May and then mysteriously vanished now you've got a reason. They're probably a pony now. And to any other ponies out there watching this, you aren't alone.”

Surprise nodded vigorously.

“That's right! Not only are you not alone, but we have figured out why this is happening, too! This isn't the cutest alien invasion ever. And it's not a disease, either. So all you humans out there don't have to worry about catching the cutie-pox or having your lawn gnomes abducted! It turns out that Equestria is real! Hooray! But it also turns out that Discord really did take over just like he did in the season five finale of Friendship is Magic! Booooooo! Discord took away the memories of all the ponies he didn't like and banished them here to Earth as humans! That means whoever out there turned into Pinkie Pie is really Pinkie Pie! And boy am I jealous!”

Lightning Dust picked up from there.

“We don't know how the guys who made Friendship is Magic managed to get so much right. There was probably a real pony on their staff or something. But this means the Elements of Harmony are here on Earth somewhere. You six need to find each other and do your friendship thing. And we need to find a way to get back to Equestria and buck Discord's flank to the curb!”

The aqua pegasus looked straight at the camera. A fierce resolved burned in her eyes.

“If you're out there listening Rainbow Dash? I'm sorry we weren't able to get to you faster for the fight with Discord. This time though? For the rematch there's no way in Tataurus that he's going to be picking us off one by one. We do this together. And Discord's going down hard.”

Surprise grinned a wide grin at the camera.

“Thanks for your time everypony and everyhuman! And remember that friendship is magic no matter who or what you are!”

Then comes a few clips of humans and ponies partying and having fun together, though the faces of the humans have all been blurred out. The scene of the shindig slowly fades to the purple Friendship is Magic title screen.

And that was that.

A contact at the university informed them that the samples from the crash site had been analyzed. The findings were interesting to say the least. More than a few scientists were worried that the G-Men would arrive and clamp down on the whole situation. It was that big. Once news of the DNA analysis began to circulate around the news office opinions quickly swayed from 'hoax' to 'this might actually be real'.

The atmosphere was positively electric.

At least until word came from on high that strongly requested that the 'Meet the Ponies' video should not be reported on for national security reasons.

The sleeping giant had awoken. And it was hungry for little ponies.

The cloudmobile gets reassembled and we are already on the move before the video was even finished loading. And after I kick off the email to Action! News Six I hurl my phone away as far as I can manage. I track the little black object tumbling end over end through the sky and wince when smacks into a stop sign. Well, that's a few hundred dollars down the drain. I'm not sure how true that 'tracking you via your phone' thing is, but Silver insists that it's for the best.

Each of us are wearing a set of improvised saddlebags and Surprised had somehow managed to stuff half the kitchen into her own. Surprise has got the pony radar between her hooves and the rest of us are pumping our wings to keep our magical cartoon sky-car puttering about at well beyond highway speeds.

“Getting warmer! Waaaarmer! Now colder! Cooold! Warmer!” Surprise yells out.

“Could you please just give us a bucking heading?” Silver hollers back over the roar of the winds.

“Sorry! I can't hear you over how much fun I'm having!” the loopy pegasus retorts.

Silver settles on snatching the radar out of Surprise's hooves. “Turn ten degrees south. I'll tell you when we're getting close.”

“Aaww, that isn't as much fun as my way...” Surprise says. Her whining is met by determined silence.

The late afternoon sun is warm on our backs and other higher clouds provide us with great camouflage from the ground. The city is beginning to fade away below us as grassy hillsides hemmed in by forest become the most prominent feature. A few cars meander along the roads and cattle graze on the grass. There are even some horses down there! Normal terrestrial horses really don't look that much like my pony friends. Aside from being a vertebrate with four hooves, a tail, and a mane the similarity drops off in a hurry. Then there's the fact that we have nothing in common genetically. Maybe it was some kind of convergent evolution that just happened to make us similar to animals from Earth? It would actually be kind of neat to find out how I'm put together inside. Find out if our organs are even arranged the same way.

Of course that brings to mind visions of myself being dissected in one of those alien autopsy videos and I quickly dismiss it.

As I flap along on auto-pilot I turn my mind to other subjects. How about Equestria itself? Apparently it's a real place. Complete with its utterly impossible solar system. Is Equestria even a planet? Or maybe it's a flat plate balanced on a turtle. I'll have to remember to ask Dust about that, she would probably know what the show has to say about the issue. Equestria... try as I might I can't remember anything about it aside from the memories of my last few minutes there. That lends me no small degree of ease. As far as I'm concerned my old pre-human memories can stay lost forever. I may be Geneva, but I'm not the same Geneva I used to be. And I would like to keep things that way thank you very much.

Memories...

What are we, aside from memories with a kernel of consciousness? Memories make up most of who we are, built up on the underlying foundation of instinct and nature. The props on the stage to give it context. My props are all the same, but my stage has been swapped out for another. Memories are all the same, but the instincts they're built on has changed. That I'm absolutely sure of. As sure as the fact that I never felt all tingly in the nethers around stallions until I metamorphosed back into a hippogriff mare.

Ugh.

I'm still not sure how I feel about that. It feels natural enough. And I am a mare now. Or whatever you called a female hippogriff. Hippogriffess? It's a pretty fundamental change to my identity. Makes me wonder how much has to be changed to touch the soul.

But where does the soul figure into all of this, anyway?

The old Geneva's underlying personality seems to be similar to mine. At least... I'm pretty sure it is. And her memories are as shredded as information can get. So what unites us? Just a single silver thread of awareness? Is that all a soul is? A little spark that lets us observe and dream and wonder? I wonder what souls are like in Equestria. It has semi-physical spirits and stuff, doesn't it? Along with magic of course. Magic that apparently exists here in our universe too. If it didn't then we wouldn't be able to use it right now. Maybe there's something uniquely different about Equestrian souls that allows those that have them to tap into magic?

Now I'm wishing that I had access to Twilight Sparkle's library.

My meandering thoughts are corralled when Silver cuffs me with a hoof. “Ease down bird-brain, we're getting close.”

We gradually slow the cloudmobile and I peer over the edge. Below us is a modest sized ranch house with plenty of animals out in the fields. They've got a barn of course. And two police cars and one animal control vehicle.

Uh oh.

“I think our new pony friend might be in trouble,” I report.

“Of course it can't be bucking easy,” Silver says with an exasperated sigh. After a moment's consideration his expression steels. “Alright. Geneva? Surprise? Sneak down there and get an idea of what's going on. If you can rescue the pony without too much risk then do it.”

We both snap a wing-salute, “Yes sir!”

“Oooh! I almost forgot!” Surprise titters as she shoves both hooves into her mane. My brain decides to go out for a glass of water and some fresh air until she's done breaking physics. “Head sets! We can use them for all our super secret agent Wonderbolt sneaking missions!”

The headsets look like they were designed to comfortably wrap around a pony's ear with a little microphone extending down by the mouth. Each set matches the Wonderbolts blue and yellow color scheme. How nifty?

“I don't suppose you have any flight goggles in there too?” Dust asks curiously.

“No, sorry,” Surprise replies with a huff. “I forgot to grab those.”

Cartoon physics. Don't think about it. Just put the headset on and go with it.

“Sound check, this is Geneva,” I say into the microphone. “Can everypony hear me?”

“Read you loud and clear,” Dust crackles in my ear.

“It's working on my end too,” Silver adds.

“Red five reporting in,” Surprise laughs. She's met with three looks of consternation. “What? We're already upsetting Hasbro. Why not Disney too? Hehe, come on Geneva! Super secret mission time! We get to go save Princess Leia!”

And with that she dives over the edge of the cloudmobile and I follow suit. Her flight pattern is erratic to say the least, but I've found that I'm uncannily maneuverable despite my huge wings and lack of any sort of aerodynamics that wouldn't be shared with a brick. But that's magic for you I suppose. We quickly descend along the barn and land in an empty side yard. The gate leading in is easy enough to open and falls to my hands without trouble.

Inside are four police officers, two animal control guys, one befuddled looking rancher, and an earth pony mare standing in a corral next to several normal horses and staring blankly off into space. She's got a forest green coat with a sea blue mane. Really pretty pony if not for the fact that she's smeared with mud and possible horse manure as well. Her vacant eyes show no signs of intelligence.

“What the hey is wrong with her...” I mutter under my breath.

“Did you find the missing pony?” Silver's voice crackles in my ear.

“Yeah, but it looks like an evil enchantress got her,” Surprise says.

“Can somepony translate that into Not-Surprise-Babble for me?” Silver sighs.

“She looks dazed,” I report. “We're going to lay low and listen in.”

And so listen in we do.

“Yeah, she's been like that since I found her this morning. It's the darnedest thing, isn't it?” the farmer says as he gestures at the mare. “Weird looking critter, but she acts just like any of the other horses. I checked the Internet to see if I could find out what she is, turns out she looks just like those ponies from some old TV show.”

Two of the police officers exchanged a worried glance. A third in a suit and tie wearing a pair of sunglasses steps forward. A detective, maybe?

“And she hasn't spoken?” the detective inquires.

The farmer's look is incredulous. “Spoken? Hell no, of course not. Is there something else I should know about? This thing is just some kind of animal, right?”

I suddenly notice two things at once.

First, Surprise isn't standing next to me anymore.

Second, she's now in the middle of the barn with a brass bell hanging around her neck.

“Mooooo! I'm a cow!” the white pegasus proclaims.

Come on, really? There's no way in Tartaurus that something like that could possibly fool any-

“Damn it, how did you get in here Bessy?” the farmer says, waving his hands at Surprise. “Go on, get! Get back outside! Come on you-”

“Moo! Interrupting cow!” Surprise laughs as she goes galloping around the barn.

“God damn it all. Could you help me get this dumb critter back to the corral?” the farmer pleads.

I spend the next several minutes of my day trying desperately not to laugh as the humans chase Surprise about erratically until she finally goes running off out of the barn with four of the men chasing her. Left behind is the detective and two officers.

“So what do you think, Morgan?” one of the officers pipes up. “One witness said ponies like the old show. This thing is a dead-ringer for them.”

The detective, apparently named Morgan, rubs rasps at his stubble with a hand. “No wings like the other one. And doesn't seem smart enough to drive a car, either.”

Now or never. Surprise has got half of them chasing her around the farm and my other friends are waiting in the wings in case the mission turns into a squall. I whisper that I'm going to try for the pony and step out from behind my cover.

“That's because there's something wrong with her,” I speak up clearly as I step into view. I'm not sure why, but the idea of forcing some of my magic into the air in my lungs seems like a good idea. It results in a reverberating voice that's pretty impressive. For extra effect I walk with my wings half open to make myself look bigger.

Three sets of eyes are on me instantly. One of the officers is reaching for his gun.

“Mother of God...” the detective mutters as he slowly removes his shades. He catches sight of a hand on a firearm and motions to stand down. “Is this an invasion?”

“Far from it,” I reply as I edge toward the pin the mare is in all the while keeping my eyes on the humans in case they spook. Several of the horses locked in with her begin snorting and pawing with their hooves. The smell of predictor probably has them unnerved. I can see that the pony is beginning to look uncomfortable as well.

“We're just trying to figure out how to get home,” I continue, glancing sidelong at the mare. “My friends and I uploaded a video explaining our situation. 'Meet the Ponies'.”

“Why the hell did you steal someone's car?” one of the officers blurts.

I ruffle my wings at that remark. “It was Silver's car to begin with. Watch the video, it explains everything you need to know.” I finally take my eyes off the humans and lock my gaze with the pony. “Hey. Hey! Come on, snap out of it. We need to get out of here.”

The mare makes a snorting sound and tosses her mane. Her ears are pinned back and she stinks of fear. Stinks of prey. All the horses in there do. Prey. Meat. Food.

You know, you never did get to enjoy any of those lovely steaks you bought.

That... what? A strange pressure begins squeezing down on my mind. My stomach begins knotting with hunger.

You could have some right now! Wouldn't that be wonderful? All these tasty snacks to choose from just walking around nice and fresh. Doesn't matter which one. Just hop on them and put those wonderful eagle talons of yours to good use.

Yeah... that's a good idea. I am pretty hungry all of a sudden, aren't I? The haze drifts and swirls and fogs my brain, pushing away thoughts and pulling up comfortable familiar instincts. The humans are saying something, but those are just silly prey noises.

Why not start with those gangly bipeds? They couldn't possibly put up a fight. Free food if you ask me.

Free food says the voice...

Voice.

Voice in my ear.

“Geneva! Geneva, what the bucking hay going on down there?”

Is that... Silver? I know Silver. Silver's my friend.

Hey! No! None of that now. You ignore him, he doesn't matter. He's just more prey after all! After you finish killing everything in here you can eat him next.

The haze comes down with redoubled strength to smother my reasoning in a wave of instinct. This... this is wrong. This is wrong. This booming, commanding voice I hear is vile and wrong. A greasy creeping conniving slithering defiling wrongness.

I won't hurt my friends.

I sit down on my haunches, fold my wings, and close my eyes.

Come on you stupid catbird, lunch is right in front of you! What are you waiting for?

“There was a mighty wind such that the stones were split, but he wasn't in the wind. Then there was a great earthquake, but he wasn't in the earthquake. And then a consuming fire, but he wasn't in the fire. And then a still small voice.”

...what are you babbling about?

“Get out of my mind!” I roar, the sheer force of the bellow shaking the timbers of the barn.

The sudden sound sends the horses trampling their way through their fence and out into the pasture while the pony gives a very sapient-sounding scream at the noise. By the time I open my eyes I find her blinking around in a daze as though she had just awoken from a dream.

“I... what's going on? How long have I been in here?” she mutters. “Who... are you?”

The humans have backed up to a safe distance and have their weapons trained on me just in case I decide to try to maul one of them to death. After what just happened I can understand their nervousness.

I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

That isn't the smell of prey.

I'm not a mindless predatory animal.

I'm a person.

I'm Geneva Pressure Front.

I open up my beak to reply-

-and get shoved flat on my face by Surprise.

“My name's Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you!”

The farmer and everyone else is close behind. He skids to a stop as a strange realization dawns on him. He points an accusing finger at Surprise. “You're not Bessy! You're not Bessy at all!”

“I think she's Luke Skywalker?” the green mare ventures uncertainly.

At this point the detective lowers his handgun and begins laughing hysterically. The two officers flanking him drop their weapons half way and cast an befuddled look his way. Detective Morgan waves a hand in front of his face. “No, I'm alright, give me a moment.”

By now everyone is confused and I pull open the gate to let the mare out. She has a cutie mark of a blue wave with three pieces of sea weed or something in front of it. A special talent relating to the ocean somehow? Seems like a strange thing for an earth pony to have. But then wasn't there a unicorn with two dolphins?

“Alright,” Detective Morgan says once he can breath again. “If this is an alien invasion I'm not impressed. What's going on here, really? I know I know, watch the movie. But I need answers right now.”

Dust's voice sounds in my air. “Get out of there quick, Wonderbolts. I think we have some more company heading this way. They look like government mook flavor.”

“Short answer, we're refugees from another universe that were forcibly reborn as humans. The curse wore off a few days ago,” I state.

The green mare looks shocked. “We are?”

“Yupper-duppers!” Surprise confirms.

“And you girls need to get your plots out of there now!” Silver's voice shouts over the headset. “That farm is going to be crawling with G-Men in fifteen minutes!”

I snag the green mare from behind and she gives a little eep. She smells absolutely disgusting and the first chance I get I'm planning on dumping her in a river for a bath. I begin beating my wings and lift off the ground while Surprise reaches into her saddlebags.

“It was really super great playing tag with you all but now we've gotta go ninja vanish!”

And then she hurls a smoke bomb into the ground, filling the whole barn with thick fog. We beat a hasty retreat through the side door we had come in through and pull up toward the cloudmobile with Green shrieking half in fear and half in excitement the whole time.

“So!” Green yells over the sound of the whistling wind. “Where are we going now?”

“I have no idea,” I grunt as I carry her along. “Hopefully somewhere safe.”

By the time the fog cleared and everyone had ran outside they were gone.

Not so much as a trace of ponies. No way to guess what direction they had flown off in.

The skies above revealed nothing but puffy white clouds and blue all about. Maybe they had just flown over the ridge-line. Or maybe they just vanished into thin air. Given how crazy this case was Detective Morgan wasn't going to count anything out yet.

He didn't have to wait long for the caravan of black sedans. They pulled up around the ranch house and disgorged their payload of men in identical black suits. The detective was informed that he wouldn't need to worry about this case any longer and that it was a federal matter now. He and the others were questioned extensively regarding what they had seen. Then the non-disclosure papers came out and phrases like national security, top secret, and treason were thrown around.

"Damn," one of the officers muttered as he slipped back into the squad car with the detective once their ordeal was over. "Little talking ponies are serious shit."

Wherein Talking Ponies Are Serious Business

“So you've never watched Star Wars?” I ask with some degree of incredulity as I splash about in the pleasantly cool river water. We had found a stretch of a river (the Mad I think) that didn't have any roads or buildings nearby and decided to take a blissful dunk. Washing off all the sweat and grime is absolutely wonderful. Hauling an earth pony around in the sky is a lot harder than it looks.

Okay, scratch that. Hauling an earth pony around in the sky looks pretty hard to begin with. So maybe it's exactly as hard as it looks? Though to be fair I think that earth ponies feel a lot more dense than any normal living thing has any business being. So I guess hauling them around is harder than it looks after all?

Anyway!

“No...” the Sea Grass confirms. I had found out her name pretty quickly on our flight inland. Our conversation mostly consisted of her talking while I huffed and puffed and tried really hard not to drop her thousands of feet to her death.

The green earth mare seems really curious about the algae and weeds growing in the water. I swear they've grown more vibrant and grass-like since she started fawning over them. Must be an earth pony thing.

“What about Star Trek?” I prompt. Sea Grass shakes her head. “Doctor Who?” Another negative reply.

“I don't really like science fiction. And I've never really watched much TV,” she says as she dunks her head under water and comes up with a muzzle full of green scuz that looks vaguely like really thin lettuce. Once she's done with her snack she offers me a sheepish smile. “Thank you for saving me back there.”

I wave a wing at her dismissively. “Don't worry about it. We're the Wonderbolts. It's our job. I think.” Huh. Is that part of the job of the Wonderbolts? I thought they were just a transparent homage to the Blue Angels? Or rather that's what we would have been if we weren't a real organization from a real alternate universe. Guh, this is still going to take some getting use to.

A more pressing concern than my new job description (old job description?) nags at the back of my mind. “What happened back there, anyway? There was this... voice. And this squeezing. I felt like I was having my sapience crushed out of existence.”

Sea Grass looks down at the river and shuffles her hooves about in the silt awkwardly. “I was looking for somewhere to hide. I was so scared and I couldn't let anyone see me like this. Then I found that barn with the horses and I felt safe, so I stayed there for the night. Everything got hazy until you and your friend Luke came.”

I stick my tongue out at the earth pony. “Her name is Surprise.”

“I know,” she replies with a demure giggle. “I don't know what happened, though. If you hadn't come I... I think I might have lost my mind...”

So there's a danger of losing myself after all. Just not in the way I expected. I shouldn't be worried about the old Geneva completely erasing the new one. I should be worried about my ability to act as a thinking person being snuffed completely.

Now there's a horrifying thought.

“I think we'll need to really guard our minds when we're around normal horses,” I reason.

Sea Grass gives a little shiver. “I don't think I want to see a normal horse ever again.”

I drape a wing over her and offer a reassuring smile. “You've got friends now. You don't need to worry about being alone.”

That seems to make her feel a little better.

The heartwarming moment is interrupted when I hear a tremendous splash and the water level suddenly drops several inches. I turn and find much to my horror that a wall of water is rolling toward me from up stream. Sea Grass mutters a barely audible 'Oh dear...' right before we're both swept off our hooves and washed a few hundred feet down the river.

When my head breaks the surface I begin sputtering for breath and trying to get my dripping mane out of my eyes. Somewhere off in the distance Lightning Dust is boasting about her unparalleled cannon ball prowess.

Ugh. That mare.

By the time Grass and I slog our way back to the others Dust and Surprise are busy splashing each other in a rather animated water fight while Silver sprawls out on a sand bar soaking up the sun with his dark coat. In spite of myself I smile. After all the excitement and uncertainty and crazy adventure of the past few days unwinding a bit is exactly what we need.

“Do you think I, umm... that I might get sick? After being around those horses?” Grass asks uncertainly.

I quirk a curious brow at her. “What? You mean like catching some horse diseases or something?”

She replies with slight incline of the head that can scarcely be called a nod. I don't think she was expecting me to laugh at her question. And I didn't expect her to look hurt. Great, now I feel like I kicked a puppy.

“Ah, hey. Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. And that isn't a dumb question,” I quickly reassure the green mare. “I hadn't even thought about that, but I'm absolutely certain we should be fine. In fact, I would be surprised if there's anything on earth that would make us sick short of a massive infection.”

Her curious tilt of the head prompts me to continue.

“A normal horse has more in common biochemically with a cactus than it does with us. Most parasites and diseases are pretty specialized in terms of what they can infect. I'm willing to bet they wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of us,” I explain.

Grass looks relieved. “Oh. That's good to know. Thank you.”

“Woah! Hey everypony! Check this out!” Dust yells suddenly, drawing everypony's eyes and ears to her. Sitting next to her is a small white cloud about the size of a beach ball. “Okay Surprise, splash me again.”

Surprise uses her forelegs to swipe a sheet of water at Dust. Dust flares her wings and gives them a strong flap as the water splashes against her. Most of it acts more or less as you might expect water to. But a goodly portion of it nucleates into a tiny white mass of puffy, cottony brightness.

Wow.

Even Silver looks impressed.

“Yeeep! Who figured out how to make clouds from water? That would be this mare right here,” Dust proclaims. “You know what we have to do now, don't you?”

We all nod.

Yes.

It is very clear what must be done.

Grass watches from the shore with a bemused little smile as three pegasi and a hippogriff splash each other mercilessly while fanning our wings to catch as much water as we can. It turns out that Silver is absolutely amazing at this, but I guess that makes sense what with his cloud cutie mark and all. As we work Dust explains why this is so important.

“So Rainbow Dash's house on the show? It's all made of clouds. But they're not all puffy and white. Some of them look almost like weird blue stone or something. And those clouds can hold up things like cabinets and shelves and books and stuff. I figure that if we pack enough cloud together and seal it with enough magic we'll be able to upgrade the Cloudmobile so anypony can ride in it.”

I'm all for this idea.

It means I won't have to lug Sea Grass around anymore.

So that's how we spend the rest of our day. Creating clouds and mashing them together. Smoothing them out with our wings. Every now and again Grass tries to climb onto our growing cloud platform and ends up walking right through it. But eventually? Eventually after a few hours of hard work we're rewarded with a bowl-shaped object about twenty feet across. It's a beautiful crystalline purplish blue material quite unlike anything I've ever seen before. Lighter lavender veins and spirals run across its surface in pleasant branching patterns that echo the golden ratio. It almost reminds me of the whorls and spirals in oriental art.

Sea Grass places a hoof on the floating disk and it remains firm under her. The mare's eyes widen with wonder. “Oh... oh wow. This is neat.”

“Neat nothing!” Dust crows and hoof-bumps with Surprise. “This is totally awesome! We just made cloud rock stuff! What would you even call this?”

“A completely new magical phase of water somewhere between solid and liquid?” I venture as I run my hand across it. It has the smooth, cool feel of stone to it. But certainly not the bitter cold of ice.

“I hereby dub it miststone!” Surprise proclaims. “Write that one down, Geneva. It's really good!”

“Good a name as any,” Silver adds with a nod. Was that a smile I saw on his face? I'm pretty sure it was. “Let's camouflage our new toy with normal clouds and get this thing skyside.”

It doesn't take much more than fifteen minutes to fully shroud both top and bottom with cottony clouds. At Surprise's insistence we make sure that the outer cloud shell of our vehicle looks vaguely like a flying saucer. I find myself inexplicably desiring to abduct some lawn gnomes now. With Cloudmobile Mark Two complete we pile inside and fly it up into the heavens.

Miststone is surprisingly good at holding heat, but then I guess water is that way too. And the outer cloud shell of the Cloudmobile is pretty good at shielding us from the wind. Despite the currents in the air magically enhanced clouds seem content to more or less stay put. Which is a good thing for us. Waking up hundreds of miles from where we go to sleep could cause some problems.

While pegasi seem to have some inherent resistance to the cold Sea Grass doesn't share that trait and sets to shivering. Without so much as a word we gather around her in a nice, tight knit little herd to share our body heat and insulating feathers.

My friends are near me.

I can hear their breath.

I can smell their scent.

And I feel very much at peace.

This...

This is really nice.

This is the way it should be.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the sky as consciousness slips away.

There isn't much time.

I have to move quickly before it's too late.

The train is racing precariously along the tracks built atop trusses towering high above the ridge line of impossibly Doctor Seuss-style mountains. I run down the roof of the train, talons and hooves pounding against the garishly colored sheet metal. One of the awful undead abominations in snappy red tights lunges at me, but I turn on a dime and buck it over the edge. I feel its ribs crunch under the force of my kick and it launches over the edge of the train and tumbles away into the yawning abyss below.

The lizards on the train are trying to sleep but these vampires are being really noisy and might wake them up.

And only I can stop them.

Day Five
Twenty Days Remain

What a weird dream.

Something about lizards and vampires and decoupling a train car with a salad fork. Not a dinner fork, though. Only a salad fork would work. Billy Mays was shouting at me to buy one from him. I think he was that loud guy who did as seen on TV adds years ago?

I gradually open my eyes and find that I'm the first one awake. Or at least the first one sitting up and looking around. I have the sneaking suspicion that Surprise is just pretending to be asleep. The moment I let my guard down she'll probably try to startle me.

It takes a little effort, but I manage to disentangle myself from my friends. Getting my tail away from Dust is the hardest part. She had been using the poof on the end as a pillow.

Once I'm free of the pony pile I climb through the 'roof' of Cloudmobile mark two and gaze out into the wilds of the sky. To the west the Pacific Ocean glitters in all of its vastness and grandeur. The wind blows inland from the glittering waters, carrying with it the mutterings and rumblings of a storm releasing its fury upon the open sea. Morning fog creeps along the coast, shrouding it in a distant curtain of delicate white. Mist mingles amidst the forest of redwood and spruce and fir far below, wispy tendrils waltzing with the crowns of the trees. To the east the sun is framed between heaven and earth, between mountains of stone below and crags of cloud above. Shimmering shafts of morning light radiate from on high, bringing brightness and calm as the last vestiges of night are washed away.

Awe.

I think that's the right word to describe what I feel.

Awe.

I begin to quietly whisper a song as the sun rises.

“It's pretty, huh?” I hear Surprise say from beside me.

“Yeah.” Nothing else really needs to be said.

I think I'm crying a little. Not the sort of panicked, fearful tears of uncertainty from the past few days. But tears of quiet joy. For the first time in the past few days I'm absolutely sure that everything is going to be just fine. I couldn't tell you why I'm so certain. But I'm sure all the same.

“I thought you were going to jump out and startle me,” I say with a sniff. Why does your nose always have to start running when you cry?

Surprise scoots up along side and gives me a quick hug.

“Sometimes the surprise is that there is no surprise.”

I give a choking laugh and hug her back. “Thanks Surprise.”

“Any time Geneva.”

“Have we got a heading on our next pony yet?” I ask after using a wing to wipe the tears out of my eyes.

“Yeah. Another one east of here,” Surprise replies with a nod. “Really far away this time, though!”

East. Hmm... “Reading, maybe?” I venture. “That's the next big town to the East I think. Aside from the smaller ones between here and there. Given the size of the city we might even be able to find a couple ponies there.”

We're going to eventually run out of room on Cloudmobile, too. But we can just make it bigger, right? And once we find some more pegasi it shouldn't be too hard to add that extra wingpower to move it around. Though eventually we're going to start running into logistical problems. Food and so forth. We'll need to set up some kind of base of operations. Though between the weather-herding of pegasus, the terraforming of earth ponies, and the spells of unicorns I'll bet we could set up a stable community in no time at all.

“Hey!” comes Silver's voice from inside Cloudmobile. “Let's set this thing down and take a pit stop. Then get moving to our next target.”

And so we do!

We have a quick breakfast on the riverbar and Sea Grass gathers up some more of her weird water-lettuce before setting off again. Turns out Sea Grass' specialty has a really nice savory flavor to it. Who knew?

It takes all of five minutes before Silver has swiped pony radar away from Surprise and kicks the loopy pegasus outside to help Dust and I push Cloudmobile through the sky. Sea Grass remains inside neatly arranging bits of pastry, fruit, and water-lettuce into these amazing little rolls. I sneak one during a five minute breather. They taste absolutely amazing.

Forests and fields and streams and hills and mountains creep away below us as we trundle across the sky toward the east. As we travel inland the air gradually warms and dries. The colossal stands of redwood and spruce and fir are replaced by a scrubbier forest of oak and pine and madrone. The air takes on a sharp, sweet scent of baking sap and leaf litter while the drone of insects grows into a veritable cacophony far below.

Surprise decides to pass the time counting the number of waterfalls we fly over. It's actually kind of shocking just how many rambling streams there are that go careening down sheer rock faces. But as we're passing above what looks like a small homestead out in the middle of nowhere a baleful howling catches our attention.

Obviously it's strange because there aren't any wolves in this part of the country. But even stranger is the unnatural dread that these cries fill the air with. It leaves me shivering despite the warm sun on my back.

“What the hay is that?” I mutter as the three of us turn our attention down toward the cluster of small buildings far below. Even Silver and Grass poke their heads out through the wall of the Cloudmobile to see if they can spot anything.

There are shapes moving down there. Rickety, ramshackle shapes that move with surprising alacrity and agility. And not to mention menace.

“Bucking hay, what buck are those things?” Silver swears.

Then comes the sound of a gunshot and one of the creatures crumbles into a heap.

“Timber wolves!” Dust yells. “Come on, we've got to go help!”

Before anypony can object, and before I can ask what a timber wolf is aside from the obvious, Dust drops into a dive.

“Surprise, you stay up here with Grass,” Silver barks. “Geneva, we're going to make sure Dust doesn't get bucking mauled to death.”

I give a nod and the two of us drop like a pair of stones. The wide meadow that the homestead is built in rapidly draws closer. I can see our foes as our altitude quickly dwindles. They're vaguely lupine collections of logs, roots, branches, and leaves all bound together with a livid green slithering mesh of magic. The monsters positively radiate hatred and dread.

There are some humans barricaded inside their home taking pot-shots at the timber wolves.

Lightning Dust is already zipping between the wolves, delivering kicks charged with crackling golden sparks. One of the monsters has already been set on fire by her and it's rolling around on the ground trying to put itself out.

I flare my wings to slow myself and descend onto the back of one of the wolves with talons and hooves at the ready. I feel the monster crunch under my weight as I dig my claws into its skull and shoulders and begin wrenching with all my strength. With a sickening pop the wolf's head rips clean off its neck and I cast it away while the rest of its body crumbles limp and lifeless.

Silver doesn't even bother opening his wings to slow down. He just drops out of the sky like a meteor atop one of the wolves and blasts it to smithereens, leaving a crater in the dirt. “Buck you!” he shouts at the shattered remains of the monster. At this the other wolves turn their attention toward him. Silver spreads his wings and settles into an aggressive stance. “Yeah? Who the hay else wants some little pony?”

Dust never even touches the ground, darting away from incoming attacks before swooping back in to deliver a hoof to the jaw. Thankfully the creatures don't seem terribly durable. All it takes is a single solid blow to send them flying apart.

The wolves seem to be having uncanny difficulty causing any real harm to Silver. Every time they get close they encounter a string of bad luck. Everything from tripping over rocks on the ground to colliding with each other comically when Silver leaps away. And that leaves them wide open to counter attacks. One firm buck is all Silver needs.

Another trio of wolves come sprinting out of the treeline and I get the inkling of an idea. I was pretty loud before when I mingled my magic with my voice. What if I do that again and crank it up to eleven this time? I take a deep breath and feel my magic rushing into my lungs to mix and enhance the swirling wind. I can feel it like a storm bottled inside me fighting to escape.

So I let it.

The bone rattling roar explodes from my beak with all the fury of a thunderclap. The sheer force of the sound is ripping up sod and kicking up debris as a rippling pressure wave races away from me and collides with the timber wolves in a display of terrific destructive power. The monsters are hurled off their feet and rent asunder as they go bouncing along the ground like woody rag-dolls.

“Woah,” I mutter, wide-eyed at what I just did. I'm not really sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that.

The battle is a rout. We manage to drive off the timber wolves without an injury among us. But then, we're the Wonderbolts right? This just feels so natural. This is what we are meant to do. Maybe this is even our destiny?

Dust zooms up along side me for a hoof/fist bump. “Boom! We totally smoked 'em! Those losers didn't stand a chance! That roar thing was sweet! You flat up fus-ro-dah'd their flanks into the dirt!”

Something tells me that I should get that reference. It's from a video game series, right? Let's see... roaring and- oh! Right! The force yell from the Elder Scrolls series! Hehe. Maybe I should try shouting that if I have to use the roar again? My friends would probably get a kick out of that. Dust is starting to give me a weird look on account of staring blankly trying to figure out what she was talking about so I finally get around to replying.

"And those lightning tricks are getting a lot stronger, too. A few more days of practice and I think we might be able to pass as honest to goodness super heroes. You were amazing out there, Dust," I say.

Lightning Dust puffs out her chest at the praise.

“Look sharp, ladies,” Silver calls out as he trots over. “Our new human friends are coming outside.”

Sure enough the two humans, a man and a woman edging toward the old end of the spectrum, cautiously creep their way through the door. The man is holding a hunting rifle and the woman has a pistol of some kind. No idea what kind, exactly. I'm not much of a gun enthusiast. Thankfully neither of the weapons are pointed at us.

“Well don't just stand there!” the old woman grumps at us. “Help gather up that kindling and burn it. Otherwise those things will put themselves together again later.”

She points at a large blackened patch of dirt nearby speckled with ashes and charred bits of wood. Some of the embers are still glowing.

We exchange a glance with each other and do as we're told. My wings feel kind of itchy around the timber wolf fragments no doubt because of the latent magic still lurking in the wood. As we play clean up I can't help but wonder what the hay these things are and what they're doing here.

Silver is kind enough to voice my thoughts.

“Alright Dust, apparently you know what these things are. So what the buck?”

“Theh imbuh,” Dust spits out a chunk of wood into the pile. “They're timber wolves. Monsters from the Everfree Forest. No idea what they're doing here, though.”

“Maybe Discord thought it would be funny to drop some monsters on Earth along with the ponies?” Surprise calls out as she descends from on high, slowly pushing the Cloudmobile down into the clearing. While it's possible to move that thing with just one pegasus it's pretty slow going.

The two humans are staring at Surprise and our little flying saucer with a look of equal parts confusion and wonder.

Surprise waves a hoof at them. “Hiya! I'm Surprise! And these are my friends Silver Lining, Lightning Dust, Geneva Pressure Front, and Sea Grass!”

On cue Grass pokes her head through the wall of the Cloudmobile and offers a meek, “Hello.”

“Well ain't that somethin' else?” the elderly man mutters as he considers us. “So, what? Are you aliens or somethin'?”

“Or something, yes,” I reply. “We're refugees from another universe trying to find everyone who has been stranded here.”

The old woman begins to laugh, slapping her leg at the apparent absurdity of the situation. Surprise begins laughing along with her even though she has no idea what the joke is. The rest of us offer a few uncertain chuckles. Laughter is contagious after all.

“So what you're saying is you're a bunch of ETs looking to phone home?” the old woman asks, her tone jovial. “Well I'll be. Doesn't that beat everything? Well then, I'm Edna and the weathered old coot there is my husband Don.”

“Howdy,” Don says with a nod.

“How long have you been having trouble with the timber wolves?” Silver asks, then nods at the burn pile. “Judging from the size of that bucking bonfire over there it's been a while.”

“Two days now,” Don mutters darkly. “They already killed all our goats and drug 'em off into the forest. Now they're coming after us. We were starting to fear we'd have to abandon our home before you all showed up.”

"You couldn't just call for help?" I ask.

Edna shakes her head. "We're off the grid here. Don't feel like bother with any of that nonsense."

Silver nods slowly and turns to Dust. “Alright. What the buck are we dealing with here?”

“In season five there was an episode where the mane six had to find this tree that was making timber wolves,” Dust recounts. “Since they were terrorizing a town and stuff. So that's probably what's going on. We find the tree, burn it down, boom! No more timber wolves.”

“So we need to kick the horse-apples out of a tree?” Silver quips. “Sounds like a gosh darn adventure to me.”

I peer up at the sun's position in the sky. It isn't exactly late, but getting caught out in the forest in the dark doesn't really strike me as much fun either. Then there's the issue of finding other ponies. There are still who knows how many out there, alone and afraid. But we can't very well just leave these poor people to have their home over-run by monsters.

Don pulls his head out of the wall of the Cloudmobile after peeking about inside it. “Hooooeee! It smells of horse in there something awful.”

He finds himself on the receiving end of several deadpan pony stares.

The man coughs awkwardly. “Oh, heh. Course it would, wouldn't it?”

“I think we can get to work on solving your timber wolf problem first thing in the morning,” I declare. “Is that alright everypony?”

Edna sniggers at the word 'everypony' and mutters something about how adorable we are. My friends all nod in turn and it's decided. “We attack at dawn!” Surprise declares, hoisting a stick into the air like a sword.

“Well, it wouldn't be proper not to put you nice folks up for the night after you've been so kind to help us out. It's usually a good day or so before the next batch of those timber wolf things show up, so I think we should be able to relax a mite,” Edna says as she ushers us inside.

The rest of the evening goes more or less as one might expect. I explain the nature of our situation in detail and our hosts are suitably surprise to find out that we used to be human. The reassurances that the cutie pox aren't contagious in the least helps to assuage any nervousness. Edna also fixes some sausages for me and I devour them greedily. Oh meat, I missed you so much.

Surprise rambles about the fun adventures we've had thus far, making a point to embellish all the right bits to make it as amusing as possible. Special attention is payed to the tale of the crazy cat lady and a certain white pegasus' improbable sneaking powers.

Dust shows off a new trick that she had figured out. She sends an arc of golden lightning leaping between her front hooves to light the fire place in a flash of sparks and flame. Everyone's quite impressed and her ego grows three sizes that day.

Silver is introduced to a bottle of whiskey and he vanishes for the night. No points for guessing how he spends his time.

And quiet Sea Grass prepares her little rolls for anyone or anypony who wants them. She even makes a variety without oats or alfalfa for the humans to try. The general agreement is that they're probably one of the tastiest things ever. Surprise insists that it's an earth pony thing, which leads to an interesting conversation.

“Sure am glad I'm a pegasus,” Dust says as she hovers in a comfortable recline. Every few minutes she rubs her hooves together and pulls them apart with a crackling zzzzzeerp! of electricity. “Earth pony magic is lame. Growing stuff and making food? Pfft. Give me wings and lightning any day.”

Surprise frowns at her slightly, though doesn't speak.

Sea Grass, however, does.

“I like it,” the reserved earth pony says softly. “It feels nice. I can smell the water in the stream from here. And all the wonderful things growing there. But they're all tangled and messy. They're lost and confused without an earth pony to show them how to grow. It's my job to make the world more... pleasant. That isn't very flashy or exciting, but it's important too.”

I flash a smile at Grass and give her a little encouraging nod. She smiles sheepishly and brushes her sea foam blue mane out of her face with a hoof.

Dust rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Lightning is still cooler.”

“So all this chatter about magic,” Edna pipes up as she rocks in her chair. “That's all real? That's how you do all of those crazy things? Because of magic?”

“We believe so. I think it's a whole bunch of physics that no one ever really knew about,” I reason. “Or if we did it was so long ago that the only things we remember are bits and pieces that have been distorted by time and mythology. It responds to a combination of certain motions and intent, at least with fliers like myself and my pegasus friends,” I peer curiously over at Grass. “I'm not sure how it works with unicorns or earth ponies though.”

Grass gives a small smile. “I just feel it through my hooves and it happens. The green things in the water listen to me.”

“So there are unicorns too?” Don laughs. “Well I'll be. I take it y'all just haven't found any yet?”

“Yeah, they've been no-shows so far,” Dust replies. “They do spells and stuff with their horns. Really versatile, but I don't think they pack as much punch as pegasus magic or even earth pony magic.”

“Y'all said something about someone named 'Discord' when you mentioned the wolves. Who's that?” Edna asks curiously.

“The biggest meany McMeanerson ever,” Surprise replies, giving her hoof a little stomp. “He's the one who booted us all to Earth and stole our memories and ruined Equestria and probably did other awful stuff too like kicking puppies and pulling the do not remove tags off mattresses before they're sold!”

The fiend!

“He's like a more mischievous version of Q from Star Trek,” I offer.

Both Edna and Don nod at that explanation. Ha ha! Someone who watches the classics!

“Sounds like a trouble-maker to me. Well, if he's responsible for getting' our goats killed you give him a kick in the teeth just for me,” Edna huffs.

Dust replies with a wide grin. “Yeah, I think I can do that for you guys.”

Eventually the conversation winds down and everypony and everyhuman head off to sleep. My pony friends and I are sprawled out all over the rug. Edna is kind enough to lend a nice quilt to Sea Grass to keep her warm and insists that she keep it since after all it must be cold sleeping inside some contraption made of clouds parked in the sky. Grass gently thanks her and snuggles up under the quilt.

I can't help but imagine how cat-like I must look curled up in front of the dying fireplace. It might be a little cliched, but it feels amazing so who cares? As my eyes begin drifting shut I whisper to the ceiling.

“This is getting pretty surreal. Not only are we setting out to find lost ponies on some sort of quest, we're going to be fighting monsters too? I never would have imagined that anything like this could possibly happen to me. It's amazing and frightening and a little exciting, too. Keep an eye us on while we're out there looking for that... wolf tree. Dogwood tree? Whatever it is. We can't allow monsters like that to stay alive, let alone begin to spread.”

“I'm still not sure what was happening to Sea Grass and I, but it felt awful. Thanks for keeping us both safe. It just goes to show how important friends are. Having somepony around to snap you out seems like it's the only cure. I would hate to even imagine what that would do to someone if they were left alone with it addling their mind for too long.”

“We're going to need to set up some kind of base of operations, I think. Somewhere that ponies will be safe. We can't just keep carting them around with us. That'll run us out of food in a hurry and if something where to happen to us while we're on a mission... How would Sea Grass get down from eight thousand feet in the sky if we were all killed or captured on a mission? Just... make sure we don't get killed or captured on a mission. That would be great.”

“Thanks for the sunrise this morning. It was really wonderful. And thanks for my friends. They're even better.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my beak as the night closes in around me. My friends. My friends are amazing. Cheerful, smart, strong, brave, compassionate, and true. Today we had met two humans and without a second thought we decided to put ourselves at risk to help put down a menace that is threatening them.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow the hunt is on.

Wherein The Hunt is On

Day Six
Nineteen Days Remain

Another weird dream, though this one was a little more hectic and less silly. A plague of grey goo nano-machines sweeping the planet. Except instead of breaking people down into more tiny robots they were turning all the humans into ponies. Watching someone's human shape melting away before my eyes was pretty unnerving. It didn't have the feel of that flashback to my last minutes on Equestria, so I'm not particularly worried about it being a portent of doom.

I rise to my feet and give myself a stretch. Arch my back. Reach forward with my hands. Spread my wings to the fullest to work out the kinks. The feeling of all those little joints moving after a restful night's sleep is heavenly and suddenly I understand why Soundwave does his wake-up-from-a-nap calisthenics so religiously.

Huh. Soundwave. I hope he's doing alright. I wish I hadn't needed to dump my phone out of the sky. Then I would have been able to check in with Lewis to see how the screwball of a cat is doing. And assure my mom that I'm not dead. Geeze that's going to be an awkward meeting, isn't it? “Oh hey there mom, how's the garden doing? That's wonderful. Oh by the way, turns out that I'm a female hippogriff from another universe banished to Earth by a chaos curse. Crazy right? Is the Memorial Day family get together still going on? Great, I'll bring some bratwurst.”

“You should bring extra pickle relish, too,” Surprise calls down at me.

My eyes are drawn up to the ceiling and much to my shock the white pegasus is hanging upside down by her hooves. She's flapping her wings slowly to stay put, but watching her skitter around up there like Spider Man is still really weird.

“Hmm... I wonder why they call it relish. And what does it have to do with a stork?” she muses.

“Eerr... I can't say I know, Surprise,” I reply. How else is one supposed to answer a crazy pony throwing non-sequiturs around while dangling above you?

“Anywho! Time for everypony to wake up!” Surprise says as she drops from her perch and pulls a gaudy looking noise-maker from her mane. I think it goes without saying what happens next. Everypony leaps upright at the jarring squeal and Surprise gets one pillow to the face courtesy of Silver. She staggers around in mid-air for several seconds clutching herself as if mortally wounded and then collapses into the heap of cushions she had slept on last night.

On the one hoof my friends are glad that Surprise didn't let them sleep in. On the other, well. Surprise isn't exactly subtle when she wants to be noticed. It's difficult to stay mad at her though, honest it is.

Silver gets right down to business. Because hunting evil magical wolf monsters and the trees that make them is pretty serious stuff.

“Alright, we've got a lot of forest to cover. At the very least we know that those buckers were consistently attacking from north, so we start our search in that direction,” he says.

“I could feel the magic bleeding off them even from a distance,” I recount. “I'll bet it's because there's so little natural magic here on Earth that any source shows up like a neon sigh. It's like lighting a fire on top of a hill in the middle of the night. You can't miss it.”

Dust gives a nod at that. “So we do a sweep from the air and give a shout if we spot anything. We're out in the middle of nowhere here so it isn't like anyone will be around to spy on us.”

“We should be glad for that. If the wolves weren't so remote they probably would have hurt someone already,” Sea Grass comments.

Huh. Kind of strange that we just so happened to fly over right as the attack was launched. Could Discord somehow have known that we would be passing overhead at just that moment to get us embroiled in this mess? That's a scary thought.

“If it's alright I think I'd like to stay here,” Sea Grass says. “I can't fly around. And I don't know how I feel about fighting.”

“Earth ponies are really strong,” Dust points out. “Seriously strong. You can probably kick like a freight train if you tried.”

Grass opens her mouth to object but Dust waves her down.

“Don't worry about it though. We're Wonderbolts and we've got this covered,” Dust says. “Just remember that you aren't helpless. If you get in trouble you can run or you can give a mean buck.”

The quiet earth pony seems glad for the reassurance. No one likes being helpless after all.

“Alright, sounds like we've got a plan for our little gosh darn adventure,” Silver says. “We do this right. No diving in alone,” he glares at Dust. “No buck ups. These are serious horse-apples that we're dealing with. If we make mistakes somepony gets hurt or killed. Understood?”

Geeze. Way to throw a wet blanket over the whole thing. I know it's dangerous, but is that kind of 'pep talk' really needed?

The mood is lightened considerably when Silver is nailed with a precision cushion strike from Surprise. “You know,” the grey pegasus says. “That was a declaration of war.”

Cue one impromptu pillow fight.

Alliances are made and broken as pillows zip back and forth across the room. The dour tone set by Silver perishes an ignoble death under Surprise's clever ministrations, the laughter of ponies, and a hail of weaponized cushions.

We've all undergone personality changes. Some have been minor, others more noticeable. When I first started noticing it in my friends I was worried. Would we even be ourselves by the time this is all over? But as more time has gone by and I've seen the changes begin setting in I can't help but feel that my friends are changing for the better. People change all the time. I wasn't the same person last year as I was when I was ten. And I'm not the same person now that I was yesterday. The only unusual factor is how fantastical and sudden the chances are, not that they've come.

Though one change I would never want to give up, the one that I'm happiest with, is the ability to unabashedly be ourselves. Ponies don't seem to have the same shame that humans do when it comes to acting out. Ponies are all so different from each other, both outwardly and inwardly. Humans are far more homogenous on the outside and that seems to encourage them not to stand out. The nail that sticks up gets hammered down, as the old saying goes. There's no stigma in being myself. And I wouldn't trade that sweet freedom for anything.

Heh.

Pausing to ponder is probably a poor plan. Mostly because Surprise pounces on me while I am busy contemplating life.

Once our friendship exercise is over we clean up, grab a bite to eat, say our goodbyes to those staying behind, and trot outside. Dust takes a deep breath of the sweet, dry air. “Time to do the lumberjack thing.”

“Oooh! We should do a team cheer!” Surprise yells right as we begin spreading our wings for flight. She's met with several skeptical looks. “C'mon! Follow me lead, it'll be fun!”

Surprise holds out a hoof and we do likewise. May as well indulge her, right?

“Wonder, wonder. Wonder! Wonderbolts ho!”

Alright. She was spot on. That was fun.

Into the sky we go.

I have no idea what I'm looking for, I must admit. A tree that makes timber wolves I guess? After a bit of prodding Dust had explained that the official name for the malevolent plant is 'Wolf Timber'. That's almost as clever as 'Ponyville'. Coming up with imaginative names doesn't seem to be one of the strong suits of the Equestrians. Everything is either obvious or a horse-pun. Like 'Canterlot'. Apparently most of their cities and many of the countries are all based in some part on real-world locations. Just turned into a pun based on whatever race lives there.

Torttingham, Manehattan, Vanhoover, Canida, Griffinheim, Prance, and Neighpon just to name a few. All with real world connections in either mythology or actual places. It almost makes me wonder if there had been some previous contact between Earth and Equestria? Apparently even the name of the planet is in some depute. Phrases like 'what in the wide wide world of Equestria' are used in some episodes and the world is flat up called 'Earth' in others. If the latter is accurate then that's another point in the 'alternate universe' concept. It would certainly help to explain a lot. Maybe if-

“Hey bird brain! Spotted anything yet?” Dust's voice crackles over my headset. That shakes me out of my absent-minded pondering.

“Just a lot of oak and pine down there so far. What exactly should I expect?” I answer.

“Big gnarly looking tree with glowing green sap bubbles all over it. Lots of brambles, too,” Dust says.

Seriously?

We're looking for a tree covered in huge luminescent magical green pods? That seems a bit heavy handed to me. But at the very least that should make it stand out whether we pick up on its magic or not.

“I've got it!” Surprise yells over the radio.

“Good work Surprise!” Silver answers. “We'll head your way and-”

“What? No no no, I didn't find the tree silly!” the loopy pegasus laughs. “I figured out what the pickle stork is for! It's because pickles are made from baby cucumbers and so they need a stork to deliver them!”

There are no words.

Dust busts up laughing and Silver chides Surprise for being too Surprise-like. I do my best to tune them out and turn my eyes back to the terrain below me. The stillness is unsettling. There should be jays squawking and squabbling at each other. The previous day my eagle eyes were zeroing in on so many rabbits and deer and wild turkeys that I had found myself distracted by them. But out here? It's as if the wildlife has decided to evacuate. Maybe the forest animals can sense the wrongness of the timber wolves and beat a hasty retreat. Or maybe they've been systematically hunted down. There's a chilling thought. If the timber wolves run low on prey here what's to stop them from spreading toward more inhabited areas?

All the more reason to burn them to the ground.

We spend about two hours in the sky. With each sweep we expand the area that we're searching a little wider. That was Silver's idea, though I'm not sure where he got it from. Some fragmented memory of our old job in Equestra? A tactic in a video game he played? A line from an old movie? Who knows. But regardless of the source it seems sound enough. Eventually Dust gives the word that we were hoping to hear.

“I see 'em everypony.”

That's all it takes.

We converge on Dust's position and turn our attention to the massive scabrous looking plant clinging to the earth like a tick. The wolf timber is horrifically out of place when contrasted with anything else growing near it. Not that there's much growing near it to begin with. All the other plants within a hundred foot radius are blackened and withered. The tree itself has a tremendously bloated trunk covered in large pods filled with acidic green sap, pods that pulse and squelch and generally seem far more unpleasant than a plant has any business being. Branches growing at the top are more like an afterthought than anything else with only a few scarce leaves hanging from them.

Creeping over the whole surface of the tree is a chaotic tangle of light brown brambles that stretch away from the wolf timber and over the surface of the forest floor. In fact, the extent of the decay and the reach of the brambles appears to be one and the same. Desiccated husks of plants and the bleached bones of animals litter the briar patch. Wisps of livid green fog drift about the blighted clearing and every now and again something wriggling and green squirms its way out of a sap-boil.

This thing is literally sucking the life out of the forest.

“Well buck me sideways,” Silver snorts. “That's one bucked up looking tree.”

“Eeww,” Surprise grunts, wrinkling her nose at the stink wafting up below us. “It smells really bad.”

Like refuse rotting under water mingled with decaying flesh.

“That thing looks a lot creepier than the one from the show did,” Dust mutters.

“I think this would have been a little too morbid to get the green light for a kid's show,” I muse. “So how are we going to do this? If we land and just start bucking it I'll bet you bits to doughnuts that timber wolves will start crawling out of the woodwork.”

“Yeah, when the Mane Six flattened the one in the show a ton of wolves showed up. And it went after them with the brambles, too,” Dust recounts.

I look down at the mangled carcasses of several deer snared in the blighted briar patch and decide that isn't a fate I wish to share.

“But I think I've got an idea,” Dust continues. “Y'know what happens when a pegasus kicks a cloud?”

Oh! I know this one!

“It evaporates!” I reply with a wide grin. I have no idea how that would help us but I was able to remember some trivia about the show!

“No no, the other thing,” Dust sighs.

My shoulders sag in defeat. Foiled again.

“Lightning!” Surprise says. “If you kick a cloud right it shoots lightning bolts! Is that your idea Dusty?”

The aqua pegasus nods and points a hoof at some rather sizable clouds high above. “It's going to take quite the trip, but we head up there and come back down here with a cloud. A big one. Then we compact it and get it all riled up and start stomping out some lightning. We stomp that lightning until the wolf timber is a heap of burning splinters.”

“Alright. Sounds like a plan to me,” Silver says. “Operation Bolt of Lightning up the Plot is a go. Let's go rustle ourselves a cloud.”

Turns out that's easier said than done.

On Frindship is Magic clouds seem content to hover around near ground level. They're small, discreet, cottony things. Just like the ones that we make when we put our wings and hooves to work. But the clouds here on Earth? They're really really big and miles away. So when we begin beating our wings and flying higher into the sky the air quickly grows colder and thinner with every foot we climb.

“This is...” Dust pants. “This is a lot harder than I was expecting...”

No kidding.

Flying six miles along the surface is easy. Ostensibly flying six miles straight up shouldn't be any harder. After all one of the basic components of pegasus flight magic involves thumbing our noses at gravity. Turns out that dealing with the thinner air is a pretty big deal.

Eventually we find a low hanging cloud and flop onto it. Our prize is still thousands of feet above us and we're all wheezing for breath. The air pressure up here is just way too low!

Wait.

Air pressure.

That's my special talent, right? Magic that messes with the density of air and waves traveling through it? I look down at the twin tornadoes of my butt-picture and grin. I made that giant pressure wave that Dust surfed on during our battle with Discord. And of course who could forget the sonic shock-wave roar from the battle yesterday? I may as well give this a shot. If I fail I'll probably just look silly. But if I pull it off we'll be able to breath again.

So I close my eyes, spread my wings, and reach out with my magic.

I can feel the air around me, so cold and thin. I warp it in my magic and begin to gently tug it toward me. At this point I probably shouldn't be surprised when it listens, but I am. I can't help but feel a little giddy when I realize that I'm quite literally commanding the air and it's heeding my whim. Oh so slowly the frigged air creeps inward, its temperature gradually rising as the jostling atoms are forced closer.

“Whatever you're doing Geneva,” Dust says suddenly. “Keep doing it. The temperature has already jumped by five degrees.”

It takes a few minutes for me to ease the pressure to just the right point. Obviously I don't want to go too fast or I might pops some ears or pressure-cook us. Once my little bubble of air is finished my friends are all breathing easier and spirits are lifting.

“This kinda takes a lot of focus,” I admit. “I'm not sure if I'm skilled enough to keep this up and fly at the same time.”

I would hate to lose my grip and have all this high pressure air snap back to equilibrium with the rest of the lower pressure air around it. You know what they call a violently expanding volume of gas?

An explosion.

“That's okay Geneva!” Surprise says. “We'll just shove the cloud you're sitting on along with us!”

And so that's what we do.

Before long my friends are carving out a huge chunk of some sort of massive cloud I don't recall the name of while I sit around and focus on making the air breathable for us. It's a really important job. Having everyone suffocate, freeze, and drop out of the sky would put a huge damper on Operation Bolt of Lightning Up the Plot. My little platform is melded into our storm cloud and we begin to descend.

I can feel the magic and charge alike crackling under my hooves. It's actually really interesting. This kind of cloud feels vastly different from the fog we had been romping in a few days prior or even the clouds we had built at the river. Different kinds of clouds are almost like different kinds of building material to a pegasus, each having differences in feel and property. Now that I know what a storm cloud feels like I'll bet I could make one from water.

As we drop in altitude I gradually release my grip on the air around us. Because explosions are still bad. At least when they're right on top of my friends and me.

“I figure we've got about four solid bolts in this cloud,” Dust rambles as we dip earthward. “And I can even use my magic to recharge it if we need to. Oh! Great idea! Once we're done frying the wolf timber we can stick this bad boy on the bottom the Cloudmobile! If anything gives us trouble I can just give it a kick and boom! Lightning bolt to the face!”

“Oooh. That sounds pretty neat Dusty!” Surprise says. “It would be really hoofy if we run into anymore monsters.”

“Hoofy?” Silver asks.

“You know, hoofy! Instead of handy. Because we have hooves?” Surprise replies with a huff. “You made me explain the joke, Silver! Now it isn't funny anymore.”

Surprise laments the death of her clever pun all the way back to the ground.

We park the storm cloud over the wolf timber and Dust hops on top of it, looking rather pleased with herself. Our target is right under her and taller than anything else nearby. Given lightning's propensity to seek out the highest point nailing the tree should be easy. Dust rears up on her hind legs and begins rubbing her front hooves together, causing them to cast of sparks.

“Alright everypony! Let me show you what I can do!”

Dust stomps, an ear-splitting boom splits the sky, and the briar patch fifteen feet to the right of the tree bursts into flames.

“I think you missed, Dusty,” Surprise points out.

Surprise is helpful like that.

The tangle of thorny vines on the ground begins slithering and snapping and writhing about like a mass of centipedes that had just been poked with a stick. A low unearthly keening sound reverberates from the wolf timber and soon there after howls respond in kind. Apparently the plant knows that it's under attack and is calling for backup.

Dust gives a snort. “That was just a practice shot. I'm going to nail it this time.”

Another stomp and another lightning bolt. This time, however, the whole front half of the tree lights up with the brightness of the sun. The pods along its surface burst as magical lightning surges through them, spewing blazing sap all over the blighted soil. Little squirming green things wriggle and pop as the flames consume them.

“Buck yeah! Thor hasn't got a thing on Lightning Dust!” Dust crows as she rears up again. “This plot-whuppin', I like it! Another!”

The air reverberates with the sound of a third thunderclap and the whole right side of the tree explodes in a shower of splinters and burning pitch.

“And one more to seal the deal! Boom!”

A fourth and final lightning bolt surges into earth, splitting the remains of the wolf timber in half and setting the whole of it ablaze. The burning brambles twitch spasmodically and gradually fall still. I can feel the magic in the unnatural plants fading as they crumble away.

“And that's how we do things in Equestria,” Dust says as she scuffs a hoof against her chest.

“We aren't out of the woods just yet, ladies,” Silver pipes up. “We've still got mop-up on the rest of the timber wolves. Once they get here we give 'em Tartaurus.”

We've burned some magic fetching clouds and falling trees, but the timber wolves weren't very tough the first time around. And this time we'll have Surprise fighting on our side. I have no idea what that's going to look like, but it'll probably be impressive.

Shouldn't be too bad, right?

Nope.

That's when the thirty foot tall timber wolf comes stomping through the forest blindly shoving trees out of its way as it bounds toward us.

“Oh yeah, I forgot they could do that,” Dust mutters as we all scatter to avoid the massive monster of malevolent magic and mounded vegetation leaping our way.

“That would have been some bucking useful information, Dust!” Silver yells as he darts away from a lashing paw.

How are we supposed to fight something this big? The tree was easy. It might have been huge, but it was immobile and we had a storm cloud full of lightning bolts. This thing? It actually fights back!

Silver drops out of the sky and slams into the huge wolf's spine with terrific force only to get batted away for his trouble. “How the hay did they kill this thing in the show, Dust!”

“Spike threw a rock in its mouth and it choked to death!” Dust yells back as she darts in and kicks the monster in the ribs with a crackle of electricity. Its hide is buckled and blackened, but that doesn't seem to have bothered it much. The monster lurches into Dust with its weight and sends her tumbling into a shrub near the edge of the clearing.

“Well that's just bucking great,” Silver huffs while pulling himself into the air again. “Maybe it'll bucking gag when it eats us.”

I swoop in and begin clawing desperately at its neck, but the giant timber wolf's woody hide is so thick that I doubt I'm actually causing it much in the way of harm. It snaps around with speed uncanny for its size and flings me off. The world spins around me in an erratic blur as I beat my wings and try to regain my balance.

This is absurd. My flight's powered by the tears of Sir Issac Newton himself. My magic eats physics as topping with its cereal. Losing control shouldn't even be a thing that happens to a Wonderbolt. So I just need to steel myself and will which way to fly. I can do this! I can beat this!

My short flight ends when I crash into a pine tree and slump to the ground.

Great.

Now my everything hurts.

Even better, the giant timber wolf is heading toward me.

I scream at my body to move, but it seems to have other plans at the moment.

That's when I notice Surprise.

She's standing between me and the timber wolf on her hind legs. A conical rice hat is pulled down low over her face. The crimson scarf wrapped about her neck is flapping in the wind. Slowly she spreads her wings with a sound like a sword being drawn from a scabbard.

“There are roads...” Surprise says as the massive beast stomps towards her. “...which a pony must travel.”

The wind picks up again, carrying with it a flurry of flying oak leaves.

“Don't blink, or you'll miss it,” the white pegasus says as she hops about a foot into the air and the giant timber wolf leaps at her.

I blink.

I feel the breeze in my mane.

Surprise lands on the opposite side of the timber wolf, her hooves braced as she slides to a halt and folds her wings. “Gale of a thousand cuts technique.”

And thus things fall to pieces. The giant timber wolf, several desiccated stumps, even all the oak leaves that had been drifting in the wind. They're all sheered to bits and flung apart. Chunks of timber wolf clatter to the ground only to be covered in a blanket of fallen leaves when the wind abruptly dies.

That.

Was totally awesome.

Ooow, my everything still hurts.

I slowly roll back to my feet and limp toward the others. Nothing feels broken, but nothing feels particularly comfortable either. I think my magic absorbed most of the impact for me. Because otherwise I would have had a broken spine instead of a sore back.

Turns out Dust is just fine save for a bruised ego.

Silver isn't hurt in the slightest. Lucky him. “That was darn impressive, Surprise,” the grey pegasus says. “Do that again next time we run into some big bad mother bucker causing us trouble.”

That request sets Surprise to giggling. She seems to have ditched her hat and scarf.

Somewhere.

“I can't do stuff like that whenever I want!” Surprise laughs.

I quirk and eyebrow at her. Ow. Even talking hurts. “Why not? Does it use up too much magic?” I ask. That's an interesting question in and of itself. Do we have some kind of magical power pool that we draw from whenever we use our abilities? I do feel a little drained after everything that just happened, but that could be normal fatigue.

“Of course not silly filly! It wouldn't be funny then!” Surprise replies.

Ah.

Right. It wouldn't be funny to go ninja-Surprise on everything and dice them to confetti. How could I have forgotten something so fundamental and important?

The others react much as I do, but as with all things Surprise-related we decide to just leave it alone for the well being of our sanity.

We pile the remains of the giant timber wolf into a heap and light it on fire. By this time the whole blighted clearing has been reduced to ash and charcoal, but we hang around just in case the fire tries to spread. Sacrificing our storm cloud to make rain is certainly one option, but I don't think Dust is too keen on losing it after so much work was put into fetching the thing in the first place.

The ashes are stomped out to make sure there aren't any embers left and we set off back toward the ranch house. I'm still pretty sore from my close encounter of the pine kind so I get to crash on top of the storm cloud and have the others fly me there. If I knew I could get free rides out of making an idiot of myself I might have started earlier.

Our trip back is much shorter than the search to find the wolves if only because we don't have to spend hours flying in circles to find an evil tree. A sense of direction is just as inherent to a pegasus as a sense of balance is to a human. I can tell which way is north just as easily as I can tell which way is down. And that makes navigation simple, thankfully enough.

We park our newest toy in the clearing and meet Don, Edna, and Sea Grass outside the ranch house. They don't even need to ask how things went when they see how smug Lightning Dust looks.

“Heard the thunder from here,” Edna comments with a small smile.

If Dust could puff herself up any more she might be mistaken for a blowfish.

“Mission accomplished,” Silver says with a curt nod. “Those bucking weeds won't be giving you folks anymore trouble.”

“Sorry about the bad guys getting your goat,” Surprise adds. “Hee. Goats. Anyway! We've got more ponies who need help that we have to go find, so we should be leaving all quick-like!”

“Are you ready to head out, Sea Grass?” I ask.

Grass looks between our two new friends. They give her a small nod. “I told Don and Edna about what we're doing. How you're going to be rescuing ponies, but we still need a safe place to stay. Our friends own a lot of land here that we could use.”

“Ooooh! That sounds like a fantabulastic idea!” the perky pegasus replies.

Dust looks at me and mouths 'fantabulastic?'

“Once we get some more ponies out here to dig their hooves in I bet we can make a great little community! We've got trees and land and water and everything we need to build stuff and grow stuff and share and care!” Surprise continues.

“For now I can tend to the river near here,” Grass says. “I'll have plenty of water lettuce cultivated by the time friends arrive, so we shouldn't have too worry much about food.”

Considering how many apples a family of four earth ponies can grow on the show I believe her. And barring that ponies can just eat grass. That probably isn't very nutritious without an earth pony to tend to it, though. Maybe Sea Grass could try working on that too?

I know I've got access to more magic than just my special talent. If it didn't then I wouldn't be able to fly. Grass' special talent seems to cover growing plants and alga that live in the water. But would she be able to enhance the growth of other crops as well? It sure would be helpful if that were the case. An earth pony who could turn the normally astringent acorns into food fit for human and pony consumption would open up a tremendous crop that generally goes completely neglected.

Ponies solving world hunger?

Sounds good to me.

Though I can't imagine ponies being treated well in some of the less stable parts of the world. Or parts of the world where a unicorn's horn might be considered valuable. That thought sends a shudder of disgust down my spine. If rhino horn is worth more than its weight in gold what would a real unicorn horn be worth?

Just another reason to find as many ponies as quickly as possible.

A hoof to the ribs pulls me from my wandering thoughts. “Wake up, bird brain,” Dust says with a grin. “We're heading out soon. And Edna wanted to know if you could use some more sausages.”

“Oh thank heavens, yes please!”

The sausages are delicious.

Alas as before they don't last long enough.

As I munch the wonderful, wonderful meat my friends busy themselves with pulling the soft cloud shell of the Cloudmobile apart in preparation for its next incarnation. The storm cloud looks for all the world like a tiny cartoony thunder head. All dark and gloomy. Most of its charge was blown on frying the wolf timber, but I can still feel a faint buzz of magic jostling around inside it like an angry hornet in a jar. Once the new under-cloud is secured the old poofy clouds are reapplied to the top. They have a lot more material to work with this time around and so Surprise insists on giving our ride a vaguely Buck Rogers rocket ship shape.

It takes quite a bit of effort to warp the miststone floor, but eventually we reshape it from a round bowl into more of an oval. The end result is a pretty spot on rocket ship and thus the Cloudmobile Mark Three is born.

We gather the last of our things, wave goodbye to Don and Edna, and share a group hug with Sea Grass. She starts crying. I do too. Just a little bit.

“Thank you so much for saving me. I would have been lost without you all. The Wonderbolts are true heroes.”

Yep.

I'm totally crying.

Onto the Cloudmobile Mark Three we climb and wings start beating. Final goodbyes are yelled as we lift off into the sky. I've been stuck on pony radar duty this time around since I'm still a bit sore from the beating I took. I'm actually a bit surprised how much better I feel already. But then again Twilight recovered from having a piano dropped her after just a few hours. Assuming that part of the cartoon is accurate, anyway.

Our water-based aircraft has windows this time around at Grass' suggestion. Sure you could always just shove your head through the wall, but she had found that a little on the unnerving side. And being able to look out a window really helps to cut down on motion sickness. We haven't figured out how to make miststone transparent yet, so unfortunately that means wind is streaming into the Cloudmobile. And that's making it a bit difficult to work on Lance's biography what with the pages flapping around. Truth be told I'm not nearly as worried about my human memories up and vanishing, but it turns out that writing about my life is a fun way to pass the time.

Certainly beats sticking my head out the window and getting excited every time I spot a squirrel.

It's funny how most of my old problems seem trite by contrast now. I suppose setting off on quest as universe-traveling heroes to save people's lives and slay monsters while avoiding shadowy government operatives will offer a new perspective on things.

I stuff my notebook away and stick my head out the window to see where we are. First thing that catches me attention? Unsuspecting deer a few thousand feet below us. I could drop out of the sky like a thunderbolt and it wouldn't even notice me until after I break its spine. These predatory instincts are kind of bothersome sometimes. Before I could look at wildlife and simply enjoy them for their quiet beauty. Now I look at them and my brain starts calculating the best angle to pounce from.

Shut up brain. I already had sausages with a side of horse-cereal. I don't need to murder any unsuspecting furry woodland creatures right now.

I can see a large lake looming in front of us and the city itself sprawling across the valley beyond. We're up at the very top of California's central valley now and the population will only grow in density the further south we go. There's no telling how many lost, frightened ponies there may be hidden away in the nooks and crannies here.

“Aim fifteen degrees to the south,” I call over my headset to my friends outside. I can feel them turn the nose of the Cloudmobile toward the new heading. “If I'm reading this crazy thing right,” I continue as I tap at the screen with a talon. “We're about ten miles from the next pony. Just about there everyone!”

Before long we've reached our destination. Below us is a pretty nice looking little estate in the hills above the city of Redding. Silver orders Surprise and I to head down and find our stray Equestrian refugee. Thankfully there aren't any signs of police or animal control lurking about this time around. Finding the pony turns out to be incredibly simple. He's standing in a patch of lawn behind the house right out in the open.

Something feels off, though. A squirming, sinking feeling in my gut that tells me that the image below me is terribly, dreadfully wrong.

My friend and I land without fanfare. The perky pegasus immediately begins bouncing toward the pony.

“Hiya! I'm Surprise and this is my friend Geneva and we're here to- Bwah!” Surprise starts mid-greeting and takes several steps back, a look of disgust and horror spreading across her features. She gives a sad, heart-broken laugh. “Heh... hehe... What's with the long face, buddy?”

This pony standing before us, this pony who was once human, this pony who was an Equestrian before being banished to Earth? This pony is absolutely indistinguishable from any mundane Earthly horse.

Wherein Consequences Are Discovered

“Oh God...” I mutter as my brain processes what's standing in front of me. My stomach decides that no, it isn't going to abide with this kind of nonsense and it's going to do something about it. “I think I'm going to be sick...”

Yep.

There go my sausages all over the grass.

Thanks a lot stomach. You really solved that crisis.

The pony is a bland mix of splotchy brown and white. His eyes are dull and without any spark of intelligence in them. His face and other proportions are completely typical for the sort of pony that you might find at a fair with little girls waiting in line to ride. I remember what I had felt back in the barn. That awful mental pressure pushing me toward casting my thoughts aside and wrapping myself in comfortable instincts. Is this what would have happened to me if I had given up? Is this what would have happened to Sea Grass?

The tiny horse seems a bit nervous. Probably because of my lion-smell. But he isn't bolting. Not yet anyway. Once my queasiness dies down I move closer to inspect his flank. What I find makes my heart weep. His cutie mark isn't gone, not completely. But instead of a vibrant colorful image of three four-leaf clovers on his rump instead he has a brand of the same burned into his hide. The scars look old and healed over. It's a cruel irony. Cutie marks are already superficially similar to a brand. Simple pictures found on the same part of the body. But now the cutie mark has been replaced with a brand.

His mind has been stolen from him. His mind, his body, and even what makes him special. For all intents and purposes whoever he was before is dead now. Both human and Equestrian have faded away, replaced with a dumb animal.

“Hey Geneva! Look at this!” Surprise calls from around the corner.

I quickly trot after her, forcing away the gnawing thoughts and fears that I could have suffered a similar fate if I didn't have my friends to snap me out of it. Is that what happened to this poor soul? He didn't have any friends to pull him from the abyss when it closed in around him?

Surprise is waiting for me with a green something in her mouth. As I draw close she spits it out in the scrubby grass for me to pick up and examine. They're... wings? Not wings of flesh and bone, not even close. They're crude pegasus wings made of some kind of foam with little Velcro straps to hold them on. Burs, wild oats, and other prickly seeds are stuck all over them.

“I found it in one of the bushes,” Surprise reports. “I think mister Tough Luck rubbed them off.”

“So he was reduced to a mundane pony with cosplayer wings strapped to his back?” I mutter. “That's awful...”

Words really don't do this justice. Getting turned into another sapient species is one thing, but an animal? I look back at Tough Luck and shudder. What does that even imply? That his soul was destroyed in the process? Is that even possible? If so then it's a fate worse than death.

“This isn't funny,” Surprise sighs. “Not even a little bit.”

It might just be the wind in the pine trees, but I almost swear I can hear a mean spirited chuckle coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Judging from the way Surprise's ears perk up she must have caught it too. We don't have much time to contemplate since Silver's voice crackles over our headsets.

“Well? Let's have a report. What did you find?” he asks.

“We found the pony,” I reply. “But we got here too late.”

"What do you mean, too late?" Silver asks.

"His mind is gone," I report. "He's nothing more than a normal pony now."

"The hey are you talking about?" Dust yells. "How could he turn into a normal pony? Hang on, we're coming down there too."

My friends land soon there after and spend several minutes in awful stillness coming to terms with what they find in the back yards.

Turns out the sliding glass door at the back of the house is wide open and my friends agree that investigating is worth the trouble. Once Dust and Silver join us we spread out and begin looking for anything that might prove to be useful. Judging from the general state of the home Tough Luck must have least fled here alone when he started turning back into a pony. There's plenty of evidence of a clumsy once-human fumbling around with hooves trying to get at food. The battered but unopened cans of green beans certainly attest to that.

“He couldn't get into the cans,” Dust muses. “So he must have gone outside and started grazing. And once he started he couldn't stop.”

Act like a mundane pony for too long and you start to become one. Your mind will be weak, your outlook bleak. What could be more bleak than losing yourself? At first I had thought that Discord's hex was just a means to get everypony out of his way so he could take over Equestria unopposed. But now? Now it seems far, far more insidious. This is far beyond even a mean spirited gag. This is murder.

“This is what was happening to Sea Grass, too,” I recount. “She said that she felt safe in the stable and zoned out. I think it started getting to me as well. When Silver yelled at me over the radio it snapped me back to reality.”

Which I'm forever grateful for. As much of a grump as Silver can be sometimes I owe him my life.

There are a few pictures around the house. Two parents and one daughter at varying ages. Riding a bike, playing at the river, blowing out candles, graduating from college. It looks like they're a happy family. Or were, at least. There's a sense of longing for my own family. How many times have I gone for weeks or months without contacting them? How long has it been since I told my mother that I love her? If I had lost my mind then I never would have gotten another chance.

I find a phone sitting on a coffee table unlocked and with a video ready to play. I can guess easily enough what it contains. A recorded account of some poor girl going through all the fears and horrors and uncertainty that we were faced with. The only difference? She was alone. We had friends. I briefly consider playing it, but it isn't a message for me.

Five minutes pass as I stare down at the phone before resolving to do what I'm about to do.

Speed dial.

Mom.

The phone rings twice before it picks up with the voice of a woman who sounds both frantic and relieved. “Oh my God Jenny, we were so worried. Where are you? What's going on?”

It feels like a knife in my heart, twisting slowly. I'm about to crush her hope. But it has to be done.

“Your daughter is at your home on Lola drive,” I say, fighting down the emotion welling up in my voice.

Silence for a time.

“Who is this?”

“A friend.”

I end the call before she replies.

We end up collecting the canned food and an old fashioned hand-powered can opener. The device had proven to be the bane of Jenny's new hooves but I should be able to operate it just fine. Extra food is always welcome especially now that we know what might happen if we decide to graze like a mundane pony. This leads us to a rather pressing concern.

“So what do we do with him?” Dust asks.

Three pegasi and one hippogriff gather around the drab tiny horse. He snorts at Dust and continues nibbling on some shrubs.

“His parents should probably be arriving soon,” I say, my tone somber. “Hopefully with enough love this curse can be broken.”

We all murmur in agreement before we fly back to the Cloudmobile with our pilfered canned goods. Yes, it's stealing. But we aren't exactly in any condition right now to trot into a super market and buy some salad fixings for ourselves. Besides, I'm sure Tough Luck would have been willing to share with us if his mind hadn't fled.

We set out toward the next pony contact with renewed fervor now that we know what's at stake if we wait too long. The sun is already dipping below the Pacific Ocean far to the west but the next pony is close and everyone is worried about what we'll find if we rest for the night.

While traveling I take a can of baked beans with bacon and begin to focus my magic to warm it up. Or at least warm the air up around it. My magic can't seem to get a grip on the sloshy brown sugar laden contents of the can, but conduction of heat should serve me just fine. Once it reaches the state of warm-but-not-hot I crack it open with the can opener and begin to guzzle the beans straight from the can.

What?

I lost my lunch already. Now I need some dinner.

Our heading takes us to the south east out of the hills and into the city proper. Or at least to a sprawling suburb of the city. Below us spreads a chaotic jumble of little boxy sameish looking homes. Our target appears to be in one of the homes near small grove of trees and a large pond. Good place for a pony to hide. Plenty of places to run to in case they need to flee the house. Hopefully we won't find them drab, mentally dead, and chewing on grass.

Surprise and I swoop down into the shadows of the grove. By now the sun has dipped below the horizon and night is quickly deepening the darkness. The humans should all be in the homes, but it's still better to be safe than sorry. The scrubby trees here aren't exactly thick, but they still provide more than enough cover to sneak in.

I've slipped fully into stalking mode, holding my body low to the ground and taking deliberate, stealthy steps. Surprise is bouncing along without a care in the world. I would say that she doesn't grasp the whole concept of 'being sneaky' but the results of her sneaking are more than plain enough.

Once we near the back door I lean up against it and strain my ears. I can hear three voices inside. Two male and one female. And the scent of two mares is pretty strong in the air. If that weren't evidence enough there are some muddy hoofprints on the back patio. One set is wide and heavy, probably from an earth pony. The other is a smaller, almost delicate set. Maybe we finally found a unicorn?

“Alright Surprise, how are we going to do this,” I ask as I turn to her.

And discover that she's gone.

With an exasperated sigh I begin to sub-vocally count. Before I can even make it to 'three' I hear a 'Surprise!' from inside the house followed by three shrieks and a small dog barking excitedly. I pull the door open and head inside only to find a scene of chaos before me.

“What the hell?” I hear the source male voice yelling. He's a human in the twenties range of age. He also seems to be fighting a losing battle against the smile creeping across his face. It's hard to be indignant at someone so silly. “Who are you? How did you get inside that cabinet?”

“Hiya! I'm Surprise!” my zany friend chirps back. She's wearing a colander on her head for some reason and stray strands of day-glow yellow mane are poking through the holes. “And I was in there because it was the best place to surprise you from of course!”

A unicorn is huddled behind the human. She sports a brown coat with a darker brown mane and an icy blue stripe running through it. Her mane has an odd bowl-cut look to it and her tail is sheered short. I can't help but blow at my own mane and wonder why there are so many natural mane styles for ponies when compared to humans. The unicorn's cutie mark is an open book with a ghostly looking butterfly alight upon it. She looks a bit nervous.

The other is an earth pony with an ivory coat and a crazily disheveled looking mane in a gradient of different shades of green. Her butt-picture is a braid of some kind of yarn surrounding three ears of corn. Unlike her angry (or trying to be) human friend or the apparently timid unicorn she's grinning like an fiend and laughing her head off.

“Well nice meeting you Surprise! That was a pretty cool trick. I'm Corn Silk. The scaredy cat there is Winter Night and sir-scowls-a-lot is my husband Henry. Don't mind him, he's just being overly protective even though I could probably kick a car over now,” the earth pony says and she trots right up to Surprise and begins shaking her hoof vigorously.

Even after letting go Surprise continues to vibrate comically. I expect no less from her.

“And I'm Geneva,” I add as I clop into the room with the others. As soon as he spots me a rather loud and clearly vicious dachshund begins running back and forth whilst barking loudly in my general direction. I can feel my tailing flipping around behind me in synch with my irritation.

How cute.

I hate tiny dogs. Too loud and nippy and annoying.

I've always been more of a cat person. Though... I guess being a half-pony catbird kind of explains that preference.

Henry is the first to make any sort of comment on my existence. “Whoa. Griffins, too?”

“Hippogriff,” I correct without a second thought, turning sideways to show off my pony back-half. And to bring my tail into thwacking position in case the dog starts trying to bite me. “I'm what you get when a daddy griffin loves a mommy mare very much.”

“What if it's a mommy griffin and a daddy stallion?” Winter Night asks curiously.

I open my beak to reply, only to close it again. “I'm... not sure, actually. Everything that I've read about hippogriffs says that the mother is always a mare. Maybe it just doesn't work any other way?”

That sounds like a study in alien hybridization to me. I wonder if I'm sterile like a mule is? If so it hasn't stopped my body from entering 'Hey, you know what would be great? Having foals!' phases. Speaking of alien hybridization... husband? Oh geeze, these two are married. But he's been faithful enough to stick with her through the bizarre crisis. That's kind of romantic.

“So! What can we do for you nice ponies?” Corn Silk asks. She seems to be another example of somepony who's taking the transformation well. Henry moves up along side her and begins rubbing a hand through her erratic mane. Silk repays in kind with a loving nuzzle against his side.

Silver and Dust join us for introductions once the all clear is given and I provide the little speech about what we're up to. Our mission to rescue and inform. The nature and scope of our transformation. Why we changed in the first place. Where we came from. The pony community that may spring up in the mountains and how to get there. The dangers of giving into instinct. That last one gets some concerned looks from everyone and everypony. I refrain from going into too much detail about what happened to Jenny/Tough Luck.

“Huh,” Silk grunts once story time is over. “Reincarnated pony. Crazy. That answers most of the questions that have really been bugging me. A bit disappointed that I won't be human again, but at least I know for sure.” She casts a grin at Henry then leans in for a quick kiss. “Sounds like you're going to have to get use to pony kisses, Scowly.”

The pony's very much human husband laughs. “Your lips are all fuzzy. I don't think I'll ever get use to that.”

Silk's grin grows even wider. “Now you know how I feel when you grow out your beard.”

D'aaww! They're so cute together! The realization that I'm fawning over romance is not lost on me.

“Well! That update is going to come in really handy,” Silk proclaims.

“Hoofy,” Surprise corrects and clops her front hooves together.

Winter and Henry look confused. Silk starts snickering and Silver face-hoofs.

“It's getting pretty late. Why don't you four crash here for the night and you can continue your epic quest in the morning?” Silk suggests. “I'll cook up some fresh corn on the cob and we can have a movie night!”

We agree that this is a wonderful plan. Though we're racing against the clock to save as many ponies as we can it's been a long day and we're all exhausted, physically, emotionally, and magically. Silk's corn turns out to be amazing in much the same way that Sea Grass' wraps had been amazing. Even though the corn had been purchased from a market rather than grown by a pony it is still humming with earthy magic and bursting with flavor. Simply the act of cooking seems to be enough for an earth pony to pour their love and talent into a meal.

A few questions are fielded during the meal about pony magic and we share what we know. Apparently Winter hasn't figured out how to use her unicorn spells just yet and she's dreadfully curious. Sadly she's the first unicorn we've met so far so we can't offer her much help there.

It is quickly discovered that our hosts are about as clueless regarding the finer points of Friendship is Magc as Silver was when this whole debacle started. Despite this we don't end up with a My Little Pony marathon. Instead we get a string of awful old action movies until we start to pass out. After you've mauled killer wood golem magical wolf things to death with your own talons watching Arnold match wits against a funny looking alien with dreadlocks just doesn't have quite the same impact anymore. Besides, everyone knows that real aliens look like tiny colorful ponies.

We say our goodnights and Silk lashes her tail around Henry's arm to haul him off toward their room. My sensitive ears pick up a snark about testing earth pony endurance. I'll need to make a point of trying to tune out any bumps in the night that might drift through the walls. Judging from the scent alone all the mares here are dealing with 'Yay, time to make a foal!' hormones. More than once I've found my mind entertaining the idea of lifting my tail for the resident stallion to see if he's interested. I'm thankful that Silver has been a gentlemen (gentlestallion?) about the whole mess.

Guh.

I was male less than a week ago and I'm already being forced to deal with estrous cycles. This isn't fair at all. Maybe I should find an ice-pack to sit on until I cool off.

I'm snapped out of my marehood woes by Winter. "Umm... Geneva?"

She really does seem like a shy little one. Far more so than Sea Grass. Sea Grass had a sort of quiet strength to her. Winter Night seems like she could be frightened away by her own shadow. Except when she gets curious. Once that unicorn gets curious nothing is going to stop her. "Yeah Night? What can I do for you?"

"Well... I was wondering if you knew what my special talent is?" Night asks.

I look at her mark again. Open book and ghostly butterfly. I'm not really sure what butterflies and books have to do with each other. Unless it has something to do with making insect collections? But you make insect collections in boxes, not in books. Books are for pressed flower collections.

"No, sorry. I guess on the show figuring out what your special talent is happens to be a pretty big deal," I say. "But out here none of us remember how we got our cutie marks. Unless we happen to be one of the important ponies on the show we just have to guess or puzzle it through. Though... I think your special talent will be something that feels right to you."

The unicorn looks at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

"When I'm using my magic to fiddle with the air it doesn't feel like... say... physically pulling things around. When I touch the air with my magic I can feel it waiting for me. As if all the little currents and eddies and vibrations all snap to attention when I reach out to them. Like my magic is the baton and the air is my orchestra waiting to play a symphony."

It's hard to put it into words. But I try my hardest.

"So using your special talent feels like directing a band?" Winter asks.

"That's what it feels like to me, anyway. Or the best way I can think of to describe it. Maybe you should talk to my other friends and ask them, too They might be able to offer more insight than I can," I reply.

Winter nods slowly. "I think I'll do that," she muses before yawning wide. "Maybe in the morning, though..."

I give a small smile as Night totters off to crash in a guest bedroom. With my friends sprawled out on the floor and couches around me I silently petition the ceiling.

“What a day, huh? Blow up a tree. Fight a giant wolf. Learn some new uses for my magic. Rebuild the Cloudmobile. Make some new friends. Discover just how insidious Discord's curse is... So much is happening all at once. I hope that horse hex can be broken somehow. I just... Here I thought that losing myself to the old Geneva would be bad. That's nothing compared to completely losing... everything. I hope calling his parents was the right thing to do...”

“It's encouraging finding all these people willing to help us. And people that we can help. Even if helping just means explaining what's going on. I'm surprised that nopony here had heard about our video or seen anything on the news about all this pony business. But I guess if everyone is hiding and the government is clamping down on any exposure that could explain it... Even still... It would only take one pony deciding to dance around in public to blow the lid off this whole mess. It's really suspicious.”

“I think I'm going to see about giving my mom a call tomorrow. I have absolutely no idea what I'll say to her, though. I hope she doesn't freak out...”

With my thoughts on my parents and our uncertain future my consciousness checks out of the day.

I run though the rickety old wooden gate of my old childhood home, my light up tennis shoes flashing rhythmically as my feet pound the concrete walkway. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. My target is within sight and I charge straight to her and bury my face in her leg.

“I don't ever want to go to school again!” I bawl, smearing my mother with tears and snot.

Ever the matronly ideal of love and patience my mom kneels down and tousles my hair with her hand. “And why don't you want to go to school again?”

“Th-they called me a freak!” I wail. “They said I look funny and nopony wanted to play with me!”

There's a sad expression that crosses mother's face. An expression that hides motherly wrath to be brought down on anyone who would mistreat her child. She kneels down and wraps me in her soft coral-pink wings. “You are not a freak. You are my wonderful little filly. And you are very special.”

“Tango Twister said I wasn't special,” I blubber, my voice catching with each sob. “He said that I'm not special because daddy doesn't have a cutie mark and I won't either!”

“Your daddy is very special,” mother replies with a knowing smile. “And so are you. When you get big you'll get a cutie mark just like mommy.”

“Really?” I sniff.

“Really.”

“I still don't want to go to school anymore...”

By now the tears have subsided, but I still feel generally mopy. And that means the time has come to sulk.

Thankfully mother knows what to do about that, too. “Didn't you have fun learning from Miss Sunny Skies?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I admit. Then rub a long string of snot off my nose with my sleeve. Now my coat is all snotty, too. Or snottier than it was before.

“Did you talk to Miss Sunny Skies about the mean things Tango Twister said about you?” mother prompts.

“No...” comes my muttered reply.

“Well, if you tell Miss Sunny Skies I'm sure she'll talk to the other fillies and colts about being kind,” mother reasons. I suppose she's probably right. Mother knows everything after all. “Now, I have an idea. How about we go see Mister Frosty Freeze and get some ice cream?”

At that my eyes light up. “Can I have strawberry with chocolate chips?”

“Oh my little pony, you can have whatever flavor you like just so long as you promise to talk to Miss Sunny Skies about the bullies,” mother replies.

“Okay mommy, I will!” I say as I wrap my arms around her fuzzy body and squeeze her tight. “I promise!”

Mother smiles down at me and gives my ear a nuzzle.

“You are precious, Geneva. Never forget that.”

Suddenly today doesn't seem as terrible as it had before.

Day Seven
Eighteen Days Remain

That was another memory.

A jumbled mishmash of imagery from two totally different childhoods, but a memory none the less. My mind is struggling to resolve between the conflicting phantoms of past sensation. I remember her voice, but there are two voices. I remember smile, but there are two faces. I remember the feeling of fingers in my hair. I remember the feeling of feathers caressing my face. I remember a strong, beautiful pegasus mare who hushed me at night and chased all the monsters away. I remember a strong, beautiful human woman who read me stories and taught me to love the world of my imagination.

Both of these my mind calls mother. Both of these my heart longs for and loves. Both are so mingled together that it's difficult to tell them apart.

Mother moved back to Griffinheim with father.

Mother moved down to Monterey with father.

Her name.

What's my mother's name?

Is it Grace Hopkins? Or is it Warm Front?

I... I think it's both.

I pick and pull and prod at the memories, trying to tease them apart and make sense of them. The coral-pink pegasus is my Equestrian mother. Her name is Warm Front. She insisted that I have a traditional pony name to go along with the griffin name my father gave me.

My father...

My brow knits in concentration as I try to remember my griffin father. But... there's nothing. Just a sort of indistinct haze of warm emotions. At least until all the traits of my human father begin bubbling up to the surface of my mind.

I can remember Warm Front, though. And bits and pieces of foal-hood. It's difficult to tell at first whether I'm remembering human or Equestrian memories, but as I get use to it they become easier to resolve. I remember very clearly that snot-nosed brat Tango making fun of me all the time. I think I bucked him in the ribs once and got in a lot of trouble for it. Mother said that good little ponies shouldn't kick. Father said that strong little griffins should tackle those that cross them to prove their superiority. Mother chided father for encouraging me to fight.

I wish I could remember more about father. Maybe in what dreams may yet come...

With some degree of trepidation I turn my mind toward my human childhood when I was about the same age. I'm terrified that my old memories might have over-written my new ones. When I find that I can recall my human childhood just fine I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My old life isn't being erased. I'm just... remembering things.

Important things I had forgotten.

Important things that shouldn't be forgotten.

Like riding on mother's back down from Los Pegasus to Mareibu to get ice cream from Mister Frosty Freeze. Sure there were plenty of places to get ice cream in Los Pegasus, but Frosty Freeze made the best ice cream in all of Equestria. I'm sure of that. Or at least I was sure of that when I was still a filly.

In spite of myself I'm smiling. I'm not afraid of remembering my old life anymore. It's just as important as my new one. My memories of Equestria should be just as much of a part of who I am as my memories of Earth. There is no old Geneva or new Geneva or even Lance Hopkins.

There's just me.

And I'm going to be the best me I can be.

While I'm sitting there grinning like an idiot my friends begin to rouse. Surprise gives a little gasp and asks, “Are you starting to remember too?”

A nod is all it takes.

“Hehe. How long do you think it'll be before we remember everything?” she asks with a giggle.

“I don't know. But you know what I do remember?” I ask as I start trotting toward the home phone sitting on a little end table.

Surprise's head-quirk is enough to signify her reply.

“I remember that I need to tell my mom I love her.”

Yep.

It's that time.

I have no idea how awkward this is going to be. But it needs to be done. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to return to Equestria to see mother again, but I can still talk to mother here. And she deserves to know what's going on.

Whether or not she'll believe me is a wholly different question.

While I work up the courage to make a phone call my friends get to work on breakfast. My job is the harder of the two, I'm sure of it. The scent of food cooking encourages me to hurry. It's still early, but my mom is an early riser herself, so it shouldn't be that big of a deal to call right now. Okay. Come on Geneva, you can do this.

I pick up the receiver and dial a familiar number.

I'm met by a familiar voice. “Hello?”

“Hello mom.”

“I'm sorry, who is this?” she asks. Of course she doesn't recognize Geneva's voice.

“I'm-” I work my beak open and closed. I need to use my human name. I absolutely, positively need to use my human name. If I don't then there's no way she'll believe me. Come on brain, work with me just this one time. Let me use that old identity one last time when it counts the most.

“I... I'm Ge...” No. Don't do this to me. Not now. My brow scrunches up in concentration as I struggle against the mental block tying my tongue. “I'm. My name is... Lance.”

Oh thank God.

“Lance, honey?” mother sounds puzzled. “Is there any particular reason you sound like a lady?”

I laugh. Is there anything else to do in response to a question like that?

“There is. But first, how much do you know about, ah... How much do you know about My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic?”

“It was a cartoon that was popular on the Internet?” she replies curiously. “Why? What does that matter? Does this have something to do with those weird sightings that no one wants to talk report on?”

Of course mom would have heard about them. Considering her job it would be hard not to.

“It does. I want you to go on YouTube real quick and watch a video called-”

“Meet the Ponies? A friend of mine sent it to me already,” mother interrupts. “It was certainly... interesting.”

“It's true. Every word of it. I shot the video with my friends. We've all become characters from that show because we always were characters from the show. I know it sounds completely insane but-”

“Hush now, no reason to work yourself into a tizzy over it,” mother replies. “Where are you now? Can you come meet us at the house? We might be able to help. The best doctors for you and your friends to get you back to normal.”

I can't help but wince at that offer. A few days ago I probably would have taken it. But now? “There are people out there we still need to help, mom. Ponies that are confused and lost. Ponies that could lose themselves if someone doesn't show them the way. I can't give up on them just to go throw months of treatments that probably won't do anything. There isn't any going back to normal after this, mom. This is normal. And I'm still just as much me as I was before. We don't need anyone trying to fix us. We just need people willing to accept us.”

My mother sighs on the other end of the line. It's a heartbreaking sound. “Alright. But can you at least tell me where you are?”

“We're in Redding right now. If our search brings us toward Monterey we can drop by the house. I'll try to send word ahead if we're going that way,” I say.

I've known my mom my whole life. Or... Half my life, I suppose. For the whole of one of my lives? I know how she sounds when she's trying to fight back tears.

“I love you, sweet heart. I always will. No matter what.”

“I love you too, mom.”

Grace Hopkins cried.

She cried for her poor lost boys. One lost to alcoholism and drug addiction. One lost to... to whatever vile disease had befallen her youngest.

She looked down at the dossier sitting on the coffee table in front of her. With a heavy heart she opened it and dialed the number inside.

“Mrs. Hopkins.”

“It's as bad as you said it was. They're in Redding right now. He told me that he would call again if they are coming to Monterey.”

“You made the right choice, Mrs. Hopkins.”

“Please find a way to get my son back.”

Wherein There is Some Spy Business

That was a little awkward, but I think it went well. I'm sure once mom gets a chance to see me face to face and chat she'll be fine. She's probably just worried about me. I would be worried about me too if I were in the position of any of the humans who knew me before Pony Day arrived.

“You know that was pretty bucking stupid, right?” Silver pipes up from munching on a pancake. Watching my friends use the so-called 'magnet hooves' to eat with is kind of weird. But considering all the other magic at our disposal it isn't out of place. “If your mom passes on word to anyone else we may be in for an unpleasant-”

“Surprise!” the quirky white pegasus interjects. Silver glowers at her while Dust snickers. Surprise gives a little bow. “We aim to please!”

I roll my eyes at Silver as I struggle to find a comfortable position in a chair built to hold a human. I eventually settle for sitting on top of it like a huge cat, but it's too narrow for that to be comfortable. “Come on, Silver. My mom needed to know. Besides, it isn't as if she's going to up and betray us. It isn't like she's a spy.”

Surprise's eyes light up and she quickly snarfs down the pancake in her mouth. “But if she were then that would make her the spy who loved you!”

That pegasus is almost without a doubt up to something. I can tell by her cheeky grin. No idea what, though. The mind of Surprise really isn't something that's healthy to delve into.

Henry, Winter Night, and Corn Silk soon join us at the table. And... near the table. We're quickly running out of room. I give up my seat for the lone human if only because I'll be more comfortable on the floor. My hind-end is a bit bigger than the ponies which means chairs just aren't for me anymore. Surprise is already busy handing (Hoofing? Mouthing?) out plates of pancakes to our gracious hosts.

“Once we're done with breakfast we'll be heading out,” Silver says. “We're on a bit of a tight schedule saving the world and all.”

“Possibly two worlds,” Dust interjects. “Since we've got to figure out how to stop Discord, too.”

“Yep!” Surprise agrees. “The world is not enough to satisfy our heroism!”

Dust stares blankly at the quirky pegasus for a few moments and starts to snicker. I must be missing some kind of inside joke.

“So... about my special talent?” Winter pipes up.

“You've got a book on your butt,” Silver states flatly. “Read some books and see if you feel some tingly pony magic.”

Bluntness aside, Winter considers that. “Well... I did always like reading stories...”

“There you go. Special talent found,” Silver tosses down his fork and hops off his chair. “Alright everypony. Get your tails moving. Surprise?”

Surprise snaps into a wing salute.

“When's our next window to leave without being seen?”

Surprise scrunches up her face as she considers that question. It looks like she's trying rather hard to figure something out and at last that absurd grin crosses her face once more. “We can make skyfall in five minutes and fourteen seconds. But we need to go out the front door.”

Dust completely looses it at this point.

I can't help but give a little huff. “Alright. What's the joke? What's going on here?” Is this some sort of My Little Pony reference that I'm not getting? We only made it part way through Season One and there are five more besides that I know next to nothing about, so that doesn't seem like much of a stretch.

“Hehe, well. Surprise is-” Dust begins, only to get cut off.

“No Dusty! You're on her majesty’s secret service! Your lips must be sealed!” Surprise insists, doing her best to sound serious despite giggling like an idiot. Lightning Dust is trying really hard to hold her own laughter in now.

Oh I give up. Judging from the last comment this must have something to do with Princess Celestia. I've got more important things to do than try to figure out Dust and Surprise's little inside joke. I'm not going to let this bother me.

Okay, I probably will let it bother me. It's bothering me right now. But I'm going to try really hard to think about something else.

Goodbyes are exchanged and we pile out the front door. It's still pretty early in the morning and about the time when many humans are either getting ready to leave for work, on their way to work, or in the process of leaving for work.

Case in point?

The woman across the street who fails to notice us since she drops her keys and they bounce under her car. We zip skyward while she busies herself with their retrieval. Score another point for Surprise's uncanny sneaking sense.

Back in the Cloudmobile we receive our new heading and turn toward the south east. The day is a bit on the cloudless side, so that probably leaves us looking a little conspicuous from the ground. At worst someone might take pictures of the funny looking cloud to post online. After all, I doubt anyone would scramble military aircraft to investigate an odd looking cloud. Speaking of aircraft the pony radar leads us directly above an airport. An airport with a national guard base none too distant.

Wuh oh.

That's probably a bad sign.

“Bucking wonderful,” Silver swears. “Somepony probably got themselves caught. They'll be locked up tight and if we go down there we get caught too.”

“We can't just leave then down there, though,” I object. “I doubt anyone would have the gall to kill and dissect a pony, not when we have medical equipment that can examine someone without taking them apart. But getting locked up in a lab somewhere and experimented on? We can't allow that.”

“We're Wonderbolts,” Dust says. “That means putting ourselves in harms way to help other ponies. No way we're abandoning anypony.”

Silver grumbles, but eventually relents. “Alright. Surprise and Geneva? Go check it out. But don't try any heroics until you report back on the situation, got it? I sure as hay don't want to pull your plots out of the fire.”

“Got it boss! Don't you worry about us!” Surprise laughs. “I'm sure we'll die another day.”

Well.

That's kind of morbid.

Dust seems to think it's funny, though.

Surprise pulls out a pair of black feathers and sticks one in my mane. The other one goes into her own along with her silly fake mustache. “The perfect disguise...” she mutters whilst rubbing her hooves together. “Alright! Let's go sneak the living daylights out of those humans!”

And with that we bail out of the Cloudmobile.

Thankfully the radar is leading us to the airport rather than the guard base. I would hate to have to sneak around where there exists some possibility of being shot at. I'd like to think that someone's first reaction would be 'oh neat, ponies!' rather than flinging bullets around but that's still a risk we should probably avoid if we can.

We land between a pair of hangers and start heading toward the one with a guard posted at the back entrance. Great. He's your stereotypical G-Men. White guy wearing a suit, shades, and an unamused expression. He's standing stock-still and may or may not be looking at us. It's hard to tell with the sunglasses. Judging from the fact that no one is yelling or running toward us right now my quirky friend's disguise is apparently working. Surprise's shenanigans seem to draw attention to or away from her in just the right way, but I don't think whatever we're disguised as would normally be opening up doors. And that means we're going to need to find another way in.

Surprise beckons toward me with a hoof and we trot around to the other side of the hanger. Bingo, open window up high. As an added bonus there aren't any G-Men lurking around on this side. It would be impossible for a human to get up there, but for a pegasus? It'll be a tight squeeze but I think we can fit through. We've got our way in.

“We've got a window and we're going to take a peek,” I whisper through the head set.

“Just a peek,” Silver insists. “Don't go diving in there guns blazing regardless of what you see.”

I take a deep breath and fly up to the window, steeling my resolve for whatever greets me.

“What do you think, Night? Should I try growing some corn in the back yard?” Silk asked. “Because for the life of me I can't get corn out of my brain. Must be part of this special talent stuff.”

“That sounds nice...” Winter Night muttered as she picked another book off the shelf.

Henry had left for work a little over an hour ago and for the most part the house was quiet. Quiet save for Winter Night's soft voice as she busily reads every book she can get her hooves on. So far nothing unusual had happened during her reading. Though this time she had tried something different. On a whim she had decided to try reading from The Hobbit aloud and found that the experience began to resonate with her. She was so engrossed with the story that she had scarcely noticed the icy blue aura surrounding her horn. But when the images began to appear? Those she didn't miss.

“Woah. Night!” Corn Silk said. She had finally found something to distract her from her agrarian ponderings. “Your horn!”

When the little unicorn stepped into the story her magic stepped in with her. And between words pinned and her mind's eye a wondrous illusion was cast that brought the book to life.

Suffice to say Winter was rather excited over finding out how her special talent works. “Oh my gosh! Look! It's just like the trolls in the story! Oh my gosh this is so cool!”

Corn Silk found herself grinning like a foal as she watched and listened. She gazed on in hushed awe when Bilbo and his friends slunk their way through Mirkwood and got themselves captured by a gaggle of giant spiders. The earth pony reached out with a hoof and waved it through the insubstantial trunk of a phantom tree. “This is way better than that Peter Jackson movie.”

That's probably how the rest of the day would have went. Winter Night creating impromptu movie adaptions of books while Silk listened eagerly.

Yes, that's how the rest of the day would have went.

If their front door hadn't been smashed in.

Night's illusion faltered at the panic that gripped her heart. In the blink of an eye the room had filled with four imposing looking men in SWAT gear pointing weapons at them. Both ponies were frozen in fear. That was certainly bad enough. Then things went and got worse.

The G-Man stepped in.

Shades, perfectly combed black hair with a few traces of grey, immaculately pressed suit, and a no-nonsense expression on his face. If there were a better example of a faceless government agent it would be hard to find them. There was the slightest crunch of splinters underfoot when his neatly shined shoes pressed down on them. His every motion seemed careful and calculated.

The G-Man touched a finger to his ear and nodded almost imperceptibly. Then he spoke to the ponies.

“Missus Sutter, I presume,” the G-Man said to Silk in an emotionless, deliberate tone. “And that would make you Miss Rose. I am going to ask you both to come with me. You will be moved to a secure location were specialists are working to resolve the threat your conditions represent.”

The two mares exchanged a fearful look. Something about this smelled all wrong. If they're just asking nicely why did they knock the door in? Why the show of force? It was almost as if they were trying to get the mares to bolt. And not too long ago Geneva had explained in detail what the limits of current genetic engineering technology could do. Simply put, short of something just as supernatural as their transformation there was no way to become human again.

“Did the government start employing wizards when no one was looking?” Silk asked.

The G-Man replied far more levelly than Silk had hoped. Not even so much as an eyebrow quirk from him. “Not to my knowledge, Missus Sutter. Not to my knowledge.”

No way. This whole situation had Corn Silk on edge. The cagey explanations weren't making her feel at ease, either. A plan slowly formed in the back of her mind. It would be risky, but right now it felt like going with these mysterious government agents would be worse.

“Alright, we'll come with you,” Silk said. Then she turned her gaze toward Night as she trotted toward the G-Man. “You were just getting to the park about Smaug, right?”

A look of understanding flashed in Night's eyes and she quickly flipped to the proper portion of the book, pages a blur in the field of her icy blue magic.

“Thank you,” the G-Man replied. “For your cooperation.”

Corn Silk trotted forward, her head hung low.

And then turned on a dime and bucked the G-Man square in the chest with everything she had, sending him tumbling over backwards into the armed humans. “Now Night! Do it now!”

Winter Night didn't have to be told twice. Her magic flared to life and she read of the horrible destruction wrought by the book's antagonist. And when she did a hulking phantom dragon filled the room snorting smoke and flames. The illusionary beast opened his jaws and let loose a roar that rattled the windows and sent several of the SWAT troopers stumbling away in fright.

Her distraction cast Night turned on her hooves and galloped toward the back door as quickly as she could.

Silk hesitated a moment too long to make her own escape. She heard a loud popping noise and felt a prick in her flank. She turned her head toward the source of the dull pain and noticed the dart sticking out of her haunches. The world around her began to swim under her hooves but she remained upright. “Going to... going to take more than that to put an earth pony down.”

“I am very disappointed Missus Sutter. I had hoped that you would not cause us any undue trouble,” the G-Man said. He climbed back to his feet and neatly adjusted his tie that had been knocked off kilter by the force of Silk's kick. “Very disappointed indeed.”

The phantom dragon was already coming undone now that Night was out of the room. Silk stumbled toward the back door, but another popping sound gave her pause. Silk looked down lazily at the second dart sticking out of her. When had that one appeared? Then back up at the G-Man standing in front of her who looked no worse for wear. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to focus. And it didn't help that the floor decided to leap up at her. Corn Silk's world slowly faded into a chemically induced slumber.

The G-Man stepped forward through the snarling dragon and knelt next the unconscious pony. Satisfied with her state he motioned to the still nervous looking SWAT troopers. “Load the specimen.”

While the unconscious pony was loaded into an animal crate the G-Man touched a finger to his ear and spoke in that same dispassionate tone. “Missus Sutter has been detained. Allow Miss Rose to flee twelve blocks. Then put her down.”

Winter Night's hooves thundered against the pavement and her heart thundered against her ribs. What had happened to Corn Silk? Wasn't she right behind her? Had she just died to save her? What's going on? Who are those people? Her mind was a blur of uncertainty and fear. Her instincts were screaming at her to keep running and never look back. She heard shouts of confusion and alarm as she galloped down the middle of the road. At this point she wasn't thinking about being stealthy. She was thinking about escaping. About surviving. Surely there would be someone who could help her, right?

“A pony!”

Night's ears swiveled toward the sound of a young girl's voice and hope leaped inside her heart. A little girl, perhaps five years old, was playing with some My Little Pony dolls of all things in her front yard. The brown unicorn immediately veered toward her.

“Please, can you take me inside?” Night pleaded. “There are bad men after me.”

“Do you like books?” the girl asked, oblivious to the panic in the unicorn's voice. “Like Princess Twilight?”

That question came completely out of left field. Night had to pause and back up a few steps to process it. “Books?”

The child pointed at the book still suspended in Night's icy blue magic.

“Oh. Oh! Yes, I really like books. If you let me inside I can read you any story you like!” Night said.

“Okay!” the little girl replied without a trace of hurry in her tone. She began picking up her toys with excruciating slowness. “I'm Molly. What's your name? I don't think I have a toy of you.”

The unicorn snatched up a small constellation of plastic ponies in her magic field. “I'm Winter Night. Please please please hurry. We have to go inside right now.”

At last the child led the pony through the front door of her home. Night gave a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed by any imposing men in black suits. To Night's relief she found none and gently eased the door closed behind her with a hoof.

“Mommy!” the little girl yelled through the house. “I met a unicorn outside! She's going to read me stories in my room!”

“That's nice, Molly,” came the reply. “Just be quiet, mommy is having an important conference.”

“Come on Winter Night!” the child giggled. “You can read me Dora and the Unicorn King!”

Child and pony crept up the stairs to Molly's bedroom. A little sanctuary of innocence all decked out in soft colors and more than a few horses. Horses ranging from realistic looking models to fantastical unicorns to the ponies Night had become acquainted with after her own transformation. One might say that little Molly had a horse obsession. Not particularly unusual for a girl of her age.

The child held out her favorite book, worn from countless readings, for Winter Night to recite. For a few short minutes little Molly was enraptured with the illusions dancing around her while the unicorn read the story with animation and joy. The story might have been simple and child-like, but that just meant it had even more room for imagination.

Story time only lasted a few short minutes, though. Because it took only a few short minutes for Molly's mother to realize that the voice of an adult woman she didn't recognize was coming from her daughter's room. There are few forces in the world that will motivate a parent more than the fear of their child being in danger.

Molly's mother burst onto the scene and found something quite unlike what she had expected. Molly was sitting on her bed bouncing up and down with glee watching some kind of hologram that was projected over her whole room. A projection that turned the room into a fairytale wonderland. Galloping around near the ceiling was a white unicorn with a little girl wearing a backpack riding on it. The mother almost didn't notice the brown unicorn staring up at her with equal parts hope and fear. At least not until the unicorn stopped reading and the illusion faltered.

Night's eyes locked with those of Molly's mother.

And then in a flash the middle-aged human snatched her daughter off the bed and interposed herself between child and tiny cartoonish horse.

“Stay away from my daughter!” the woman shrieked. “Get out of my house!”

Night's ears fell flat and she backed away. “But...”

“Get out!”

Winter Night turned and fled. She could hear Molly bawling her little heart out behind her over the sound of the girl's mother trying to comfort her. She nearly tumbled headlong down the stairs and scrabbled uselessly at the doorknob for a few moments before she finally managed to grip it in her magic and pull it open.

Out on the street again. The sun was bright, warm, and pleasant. Not at all fitting for the danger the brown unicorn found herself in. She had to find someone else who could hide her. Someone who would be willing to hide her.

The first thing she saw was the black sedan slowly driving toward her. Night's eyes widened in terror as realization dawned on her. Run. She had to run. Now.

Now!

She bolted off down the street again. Her hooves thundered against the pavement. Her heart thundered against her ribs. The panic was worse now. So much worse that the object of her fear was within sight.

There!

Night spotted a man standing in his open garage door, brief case in hand and jaw slack.

Winter made a snap decision and ran toward the human.

“Please! You have to help me!” the unicorn cried.

The human took several uneasy steps backwards before turning and running into the garage. He began to desperately pound at the 'close' button while the mutant alien horse thing charged toward him. At the last moment the door rattled shut and he could hear the creature's hooves crashing against it from the outside.

“No! Oh God no! Please! Don't leave me out here!”

He was breathing heavily, hand gripping his heart. What the hell was that monster? How could it talk?

“Please open the door! They took Silk and they're going to take me, too!”

Then there was a loud pop and a cry of pain.

“Please...” the monster whimpered. “Help...”

The pounding gradually grew weaker and at lasted it died away altogether. The man hurried into his house and peaked out a window. What he saw made him heave a sigh of relief. A bunch of official looking folks were loading an animal crate into the back of a black sedan. That thing must have been... what? Some kind of escaped experiment? He couldn't even begin to guess. But at least the government arrived to take it away before it hurt someone.

The G-Man oversaw the capture of the pony and gave a dispassionate nod. Once more his hand touched to his ear. “Miss Rose is in custody. Mister Hopkins and his associates had already moved on. We will arrive at the hanger in fifteen minutes with the new specimens.”

No rest of the wicked, after all. Not when there are still ponies to corral.

Cages.

There are ponies in cages.

Eight of them down there. Six ponies of the usual Equestrian type and two... mundane ones. These people are rounding us up like animals. Including those of us who have been reduced to animals. Several of the Equestrians look depressed. Though a few of them look vaguely hopeful as well. Maybe they had been told that the government has some way to make them human again? I can't help but scoff at that thought. Short of magic on the order of what this Discord guy throws around being human again is probably out of the question. And I doubt asking the avatar of chaos for help would turn out well. Probably more likely to turn inside out.

It takes all of my self control to avoid leaping into the middle of the room and begin freeing them. That would probably just get me caught. Those cages are built like tanks and secured with some kind of heavy duty electronic lock. There are several humans in SWAT gear milling around inside the hanger in addition to two scientist looking folks and one G-Man eerily similar to the one that's guarding the back door. Same black hair. Same suit. Same shades. Same dour expression. I think he might be looking at me, but it's hard to tell.

“We've got eight ponies down here,” I whisper into my head set.

Surprise yells, “Caw caw!” rather loudly right next to my ear. I glower at her and then continue.

“Two of them have gone bland. The rest are still pastel.”

“And guards?” Silver asks.

“Four dudes with guns. One Men in Black style scowly-guy inside and a second outside. And two scientists,” I report.

“Darn. Outnumbered and out-gunned,” Silver swears. “How quickly could you get those cages open?”

“They're some kind of fancy digital lock. Maybe if I had some powered bolt cutters I could chew through them, but barring that?”

This is looking pretty grim for the captured ponies.

“Alright, listen. If we try freeing any of these ponies this place is going to be crawling with guards in no time flat. We won't do anypony any good if we get caught, too,” Silver says.

“We can't just leave them here to rot!” Dust snarls over the com. “There's no way we're going to just turn tail and run because things get too hard!”

“If we go in there hooves flailing all it takes is one guy calling for help and we're bucked,” Silver shoots back. “We need to pick fights that we can win. We need to know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, and when to run. We're looking at a fold scenario right now. And if we dive into trouble head-first it'll turn into a 'run' in a bucking hurry.”

The hopeless look in those pony's eyes is like a knife in my heart. They're no more than twenty feet away from me. And it may as well be a thousand miles. “What about a distraction?” I suggest. “Have Dust hit one of the planes on the runway with a lightning bolt or something? Maybe they'll all run outside to see what happened and then we can swoop in and save everypony.”

“Oooh, I like that plan.”

No points for guessing who made that comment.

“Assuming these humans aren't bucking stupid they'll just hunker down and call for support,” Silver replies. “Distractions like that only work in action movies and bad fanfiction.”

Scratch that idea.

“Great,” I huff. “Well what are we going to do then?”

“Nothing,” Silver sighs. “We're going to do nothing. We can't help these ponies.”

Several things occur to me at once.

First, I really don't like this plan.

Second, Surprise isn't standing next to me anymore.

Third, her headset is.

Fourth, she's casually trotting up to one of the guards in the hanger.

“Huh. Well. I guess we can give Surprise's plan a shot,” I mutter.

“What's Surprise's plan?” Silver asks.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

She's probably making it up as she goes.

“Hiya!” the quirky pegasus shouts from behind one of the SWAT looking guys.

The human whirls around, bringing his weapon to bear on my friend with practiced precision. It's pretty obvious that he was startled and the irritation is plain in his voice. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Surprise considers that question for a few moments. “Well, when a mommy pegasus and a daddy pegasus love each other very much...”

“No, I mean- Damn it, never mind,” the human gestures at one of the empty cages with his weapon. “Get inside and pipe down.”

The caged ponies watch in silence as Surprise gleefully trots into one of the cages and allows it to be shut behind her. It makes a humming noise followed by a loud click, announcing that she is well and truly locked inside.

A pink unicorn mare next to my friend asks curiously, “Who are you?”

“The name's Party,” the quirky pegasus replies. “Surprise Party. I'm here to rescue you.”

The pink mare gives an irritated snort. “Yeah? Well who's going to rescue you?”

I can tell my friend is about to reply with something silly and encouraging, but she falls silent when the G-Man looms in front of her.

“Who indeed, Miss Liggett?” the human in the black suit inquires hypothetically. “Who indeed.”

“Oh, we haven't met yet have we?” my friend giggles at the impersonal wall of pressed suit-clad government authority standing in front of her cage. “I'm Surprise! Who are you?”

“Miss Liggett,” the G-Man continues in his droning voice. “I'm afraid you fail to grasp the gravity of your situation.”

“Silly!” Surprise giggles. “That's my old last name! I meant who are you? And I've gotten pretty bad at grasping gravity,” Surprise admits thoughtfully. “I think pegasus wings flapping must really bother it because it ignores us when we do that. Don't you think that's really rude? Ignoring people isn't nice at all!”

“Miss Liggett. Please tell us where the rest of the ponies are,” the G-Man says without missing a beat.

“Right over there of course!” Surprise laughs, pointing with a hoof at all the caged ponies next to her.

I've got to admit that I'm impressed. Either this stuffed suit has super-human patience or his emotional centers have been surgically removed because I can't see so much of a hint of irritation at Surprise's shenanigans. He briefly looks toward the caged ponies before turning his attention back to Surprise.

“Perhaps I need clarify, Miss Liggett. Where is Mister Hopkins and the rest of your associates?” the G-Man asks.

“Aaww, I can't tell you that!” Surprise says. “That would ruin the surprise!”

“I see. That is an unfortunate decision, Miss Liggett. Most unfortunate.”

And with that the G-Man walks back over to where he was previously standing guard without a word. Once at his post again the guy may as well be a statue.

“Hey!” Surprise yells. “You never told me your name!”

It should come as no surprise that the stuffed suit doesn't reply.

“Not introducing yourself is really rude!” Surprise yells. At the continued lack of reply the pegasus humphs and lays down in her cage.

“She trotted in there and got herself caught, didn't she?” Silver asks over the com.

“Yep.”

“Buck. Head back up to the Cloudmobile. We need to figure out what to do next,” Silver sighs.

I give a nod, grab Surprise's head-set, and then freeze obediently when I hear, “You there in the window! Freeze!”

Wuh oh.

Surprise's stealth mojo apparently wore off.

I give my wings a powerful flap and launch myself to the side. My pressure sense informs me that something small and fast just whizzed through the air where I was previously. Judging from the loud pop I just avoided being shot. Unfortunately that aerial leap to the side hurled me right into the line of sight of the other G-Man standing guard at the back door.

He doesn't look at all bewildered by the fact that a hippogriff flew in front of him. He doesn't shout in surprise or panic. All he does is smoothly reach into his jacket and pull out a handgun.

Snap decision time.

I pour magic into my lungs and roar.

The reverberating boom knocks the dart that would have sealed my capture off course. It also blasts the G-Man off his feet and sends him tumbling across the pavement. Oh geeze, I hope I didn't hurt him.

Not much time to ponder that, though. I need to get back to my friends and out of range. I begin pumping my wings for all I'm worth and go rocketing into the sky, my spiraling contrail behind me. I'm about two hundred feet up when something occurs to me. If I head straight for the Cloudmobile they might be able to track me.

“Meet me over the lake outside the city,” I call over the com. I adjust my posture in the air and go shooting back down toward the ground away from the direction I had just sent my friends in. “Once I'm sure I've lost these people I'll circle back around and join you.”

“Got it Geneva!” Dust replies. “Don't get yourself caught.”

Nope.

Not planning on getting caught like Surprise. I have no idea what Surprise is thinking. She's got to have some sort of weird plan she didn't feel inclined to share with us. At least I hope she does.

No, I'm not getting caught.

But I think it's about time to start making a scene. These spooky men in black obviously know about us. And they obviously don't feel inclined to tell anyone about us. And they obviously have no issue with sticking us in cages like animals and then shipping us off to a lab where we'll probably never see the light of day again. They don't want people to know that ponies are on the loose?

Well buck them.

I angle myself toward the river I had spotted to the east and take off like a shot less than fifty feet above the ground. Just high enough to avoid getting myself tangled in any electrical lines. Plenty low enough to be spotted by anyone who happens to be awake at the moment. If there's one thing I've noticed about flight magic it's that once you're going fast enough to leave a magical contrail you get loud.

Loud as in fighter jet flying overhead loud.

Like a missile I roar over the middle of a wide street lined with larger buildings on either side. People on the sidewalks are pausing and pointing up at me as I go racing past. More than a few phones are hefted skyward. I can't help but grin at the sight. Try covering this up you bucking sons of a mule.

Another large cluster of buildings and an enormous parking lot looms in front of me. That has got to be a mall. And a mall means tons of humans wandering around. I give my wings another powerful flap to launch myself up and over the roof where a wide open out-door promenade stretches below me. This couldn't be any more perfect. People inside the mall have already spotted me and are pointing skyward.

I spread my wings wide and begin beating them to bleed off my forward momentum before coming in for a slow landing next to a fountain and several large potted plants. Humans are already moving closer with phones at the ready to film me, though they're all keeping a respectful distance. I can imagine what most of them are probably thinking. This must be some sort of publicity stunt, right? Well, time to dismiss that notion.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen!” I call out, mixing just enough magic into my voice to amplify it for all to hear. “I just flew in from Narnia and man are my wings tired! I should probably take the wardrobe next time, right?”

No idea where that joke came from. It was pretty awful, but it immediately lightens the mood. There's a chorus of laughter and a few humans start moving in for a closer look. I hop up on top of a table, plop down on my haunches, and curl my tail around my feet. Hopefully 'giant catbird on a table' is considered non-threatening.

Despite myself I'm grinning like an idiot. There are more than a few oohs and aahs as humans gather around. By this time people are starting to come out of the stores to see what all the commotion is about.

“Jokes aside, I'm here on more serious matters. I'll try to keep this brief and answer as many questions as I can since there are some nice folks in slick shades and black suits who don't want me talking to you,” I continue. That gets some murmurs of discontent from some of the humans while others begin backing off. Mysterious men in black and government cover-ups are a pretty common trope in popular culture after all. And I imagine that I probably look the part of something that would require covering up.

Considering that there are in fact men in black trying to keep the existence of Equestrians under wraps sort of lends credence to things.

“My name is Geneva Pressure Front. I'm an Equestrian exile here on Earth. There are plenty of other Equestrians like me. Well, not exactly like me. I'm a hippogriff and most of them are ponies. But that's beside the point.”

“I knew it!” yells one person from the crowd. “That Meet the Ponies video was real! You're Geneva! The Geneva who shot it, right?”

“One and the same. Some of you might have heard rumors of pony sightings, they're all true. Or at least some of them are true. I don't know how many ponies were exiled to Earth, but there seem to be quite a few of us.”

Near the back of the crowd I hear someone start shrieking about alien invasions. I can smell the level of fear beginning to rise, but it isn't anywhere near overwhelming yet. We Equestrians have an incredibly powerful weapon on our side when it comes to encouraging humans to trust us.

We're absolutely adorable.

“This isn't an invasion. We're exiles trying to figure out how to get back home. And we can't do that if we're being locked away in secret labs somewhere,” I argue.

“What about the Mane Six!” yells someone else. A few more voices are raised in agreement.

“We're pretty sure that the Elements of Harmony are somewhere here on Earth as well, but we don't know where yet. And I know some of you are familiar with us and so you should be familiar with what we stand for. Joy, compassion, charity, integrity, loyalty, and friendship. We've all lived for the past twenty five years among humans as humans. We aren't strangers to this world. We aren't enemies. We aren't invaders. We aren't here to steal the Earth's water or anything absurd like that.”

That manages to draw a few more laughs from the humans. I extend one of my hands toward the crowd, palm up and open.

“All we want is your friendship, your understanding, and your acceptance. So spread the word! Tell everyone you know! Post the videos you're taking right now all over the Internet!” I call out to the humans surrounding me. “Make it impossible for this to be covered up!”

I spread my wings again and lift onto my hind legs, gradually rising into the air.

“Never forget that friendship is magic, no matter the world or species! Stand with the Equestrians in friendship and we will not be silenced!”

That gets some cheers. Some far more enthusiastic than others. Ha! That was a pretty rousing speech, right?

In a flourish of wings I launch myself back out of the mall and streak off toward the river to the east. Homes and businesses whiz past below me, no doubt prompting even more photo ops from surprised onlookers. My flight path takes me directly above a school, drawing the eyes of more than a few children skyward. On a whim I cut my speed above the playground and drop into a hover about fifty feet off the ground and wave down at the gaggle of children below.

Ah the smiles of kids.

Totally worth it.

I give my wings another pump and continue off toward the river. Once its greenish waters are below me I drop my altitude and begin cruising mere feet above the wave and follow its course. This should keep me well out of sight for the most part considering the raised banks and levies that keep the water in place will mostly obscure me from the roads.

Once I'm beyond the edge of the city I pull up from the river and begin crossing overland toward the lake some miles away. I stick close to the tree tops to limit my visibility as much as possible. I'm not sure if I can even be tracked with radar or not, but I seem to recall that flying low to the ground helps to baffle electronic detection so I may as well stick to that. Before long the lake stretches in front of me and I veer skyward like a rocket. The air is still clear for the most part and spotting the cloudmobile doesn't prove to be terribly difficult. Dust and Silver are both on the roof waiting for me.

“So. We lost Surprise,” Silver mutters.

“Come on, it's Surprise,” Dust replies. “She's got to have some kind of plan.”

“How did the flight back go?” the grey pegasus asks.

“Fine. I landed in the middle of a mall and gave a speech about friendship on the way over,” I say as I idly examine my talons. Don't worry about Surprise. Don't worry about the captured ponies. Surprise knows what she's doing. She hasn't let us down yet.

“Sounds like the horse-apples are going to be hitting the fan, then,” Silver muses as he peers off toward the south. “If I had known a bunch of clandestine suits were going to be rounding up ponies I might have agreed to that interview.” Silver sighs and shakes his head. Then levels his gaze at Dust. “What's our heading?”

“Next pony is to the south,” I report after pulling the pony radar out of my impromptu saddle bags. “Pretty far away, too.”

“Sacramento?” Dust says. Biggest population center in that direction.

“Maybe,” Silver muses. “If we do end up in the state capitol how does making a few public appearances sound?”

Dust can help but grin a wide grin. “I thought you would never ask. Let's go rock their world.”