Horse People Go Naked
Chapter 157: Chapter 156: You’re Diagnosed with… Something
Previous Chapter Next Chapter“Nervous?” Moonlight asked with a supportive smile as they sat in the castle infirmary’s waiting area. It was as plain and sterile as ever, but the temperature seemed colder than usual. Then again, she wasn’t wearing armor, hoping the more informal look would help set a more relaxed and casual tone.
“I guess that’s just a thing for doctors and me,” Thomas said in resignation as he sat beside the orange mare. “I’m an alien in a government medical facility, and there are too many stories for me to not compare.”
“Ah hear ya,” agreed Honey. “Doctors do good work, but somethin’ about ‘em jus’ don’t rub me the right way.”
“Well, you’re the professional rubber,” reminded Talon. “Maybe you should offer lessons?”
Thomas glowered at the griffon. “I have no idea if you’re being sarcastic or serious.”
Talon held her chin high, looking punchably smug. “Then I’ve done my job!”
“I know nothing of human anatomy, but stress isn’t healthy for ponies,” Jet stoically began. “In short, the tension exacerbates existing conditions while creating additional maladies. Stressing about visiting your doctor only gives the doctor more work in the long run.”
“She makes a good point,” Talon said as she stood. She walked the short distance to Thomas’ chair, turned around, and carefully planted her bare butt in his lap. Then, as she crossed her legs and wiggled her rump to get comfortable, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Is this helping?”
Thomas snickered as he shook his head and buried his face between the griffon’s wings. The blend of fur and feathers tickled his cheeks. “Fuck, you’re too much,” he sighed happily as he rested his hands on her toned hips. Talon was far enough forward that there was no risk of getting poked through Thomas’ loincloth, so he got to enjoy her warm weight with minimal awkwardness.
Talon’s avian head swiveled to face Moonlight. “Hear that? I’m too much,” she boasted. “I guess that makes you just enough.”
Moonlight’s eyes narrowed. Even knowing what was happening, the mare was still incensed by the challenge. “He means I have a basic grasp of manners. Also, I’m used to wearing my armor, so doing that wouldn’t have worked.”
“Ah’d’ve done it, but this chair’s creaking enough as is,” Honey remarked. “If the thing broke when Ah sat on ‘im, well, at least it’d be a short trip fer treatment.”
Talon snickered. “You’d need an iron to pry him out of there,” she said while gesturing at the green mare’s enviable plot.
“Nah, the little fella’s a nimble one. He knows how ta wiggle out ‘f tight places.”
“Out?” Moonlight questioned. “If you’d said in, I’d agree, but out? I’ve seen no evidence of such things.”
“He’s here, ain’t he?” remarked Talon. “So, clearly, he’s gotten out.”
“You can’t prove that,” Thomas countered. “For all I know, I got stuck somewhere a long time ago, and now I’m just living in some magical fantasy to distract from my inescapable prison.”
Talon blinked and looked back at Moonlight. “You guys are still writing, right? Cuz that sounds like a pretty good story.”
Moonlight nodded thoughtfully. “Hey, you’re right. A stallion goes through his day, living life like normal—”
“—and then there’s a flicker as he briefly wakes up to reality,” Thomas cut in. “Or, maybe there are flickers all the time, and he gets paranoid that reality isn’t real, and he eventually figures out how to trigger them to force himself to wake up.”
“Spooky,” Honey stated. “So, where does he wake up?”
“Well, we were just talking about your plot,” Moonlight reminded. “It could be, like, a romantic thing so that he can still be with his mare, even if just in a dream.”
“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Talon cut in. “You want the big twist of reality not being real to be that he’s stuck up his lover’s butt, can’t get out, so someone put a charm on him so he thinks he’s still free, and the whole thing is supposed to be romantic?” At Moonlight’s hesitant nod, the griffon added, “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life… and I think I love it.”
Moonlight chuckled her appreciation.
“Okay, that’s better than what I thought,” Thomas admitted. “I was just gonna go the classic horror route, like, he’s inside a giant stomach or something.”
Talon huffed through her beak’s nostrils. “You would think that, freaky little monkey.”
“Whaaat? I just said that Moonlight’s idea was better. Mine kinda borders on cliché.”
“That’s a common idea fer humans?” Honey questioned.
“Kind of. The movie ‘The Matrix’ kind of made the whole reality not-being-real thing a pretty famous twist. I’ve seen it done in other places, and it usually works, but it’s not a surprise anymore.”
“Well, Ah’d be surprised either way.”
“Hmm. Is choose-your-own-adventure a thing in Equestria?” inquired Thomas.
“It’s mostly in foals’ books, but yes,” Moonlight replied.
“Well, what about a short story with multiple endings, or maybe having both as separate stories?” Thomas questioned. “I don’t know the process for publishing short stories.”
“I’ve read a few journals with short stories, and having them as separate entries seems like the more traditional course,” Jet casually informed. “Then again, you might be able to leverage your position to convince a publicist to go with multiple endings. It could be hailed as a novel experiment, or an embarrassing act of indulgence. It will all depend on the story’s quality, I suppose.”
While everyone pondered this idea, the door to the back opened, and the nurse invited them in. The harem mares had done their job of lightening the mood, but, alas, the hour of judgment was upon them. As with their last visit, Nurse Check went through the routine of taking the young man’s weight, height, blood pressure, and so on. Then, with a verdict of normal, the nurse left the sizeable group in the cramped examination room to await the doctor.
Five seconds later…
“Ah, welcome back!” proclaimed Dr. Feelgood, as boisterous as ever, the white spot on his red-furred face just as distinct as last time.
Thomas smiled and extended his hand. “I’d say it’s good to be back, but that’s still pending.”
“Ha! I missed that wit,” Feelgood said as he shook the man’s hand, his expression calming as he levitated a pen and notepad from the folder under his arm. “So, like always, are there any new developments you’d care to share?”
Thomas pursed his lips as he held up both hands. “There was this weird thing with my wrists I told you about. I was climbing a tree, and they suddenly started stinging.”
Feelgood nodded as his magically held pen scribbled away. “Yes, I recall. And why were you climbing a tree, anyway? You weren’t… uh…” He trailed off as he looked around, seemingly noticing the extra company for the first time. “I’m assuming you’re comfortable with everypony here being privy to your private details?”
Thomas shrugged. “They’re my closest friends, so I’d end up telling them anyway.”
Jet quietly assumed the human meant to say they were his friends and guard. Although, he was right that she’d find out anyway, even if he didn’t know it. On that note, she straightened her stance for their unseen audience.
“Alright,” Feelgood allowed. “So, when you were climbing the tree, you weren’t doing anything you shouldn’t?”
“Like what?”
“For instance, spying on unsuspecting ponies, or perhaps setting up for some prank?”
“Well, I was kinda chasing a squirrel,” Thomas admitted with mild embarrassment. He then noted the scribbling pen and added, “Does that matter?”
“Possibly. You may have a geas. That’s a magically induced compulsion. For example, somepony may impose a geas to prohibit you from harming the innocent.”
“I don’t think squirrels qualify as innocent,” Thomas countered.
“And shouldn’t you have already tested for that?” Moonlight asked.
Feelgood shook his head. “Geasa are a rare form of mind magic and difficult to perform. Granted, most of the ponies who could cast such spells are right here in Canterlot, but most of them are under the Princess’s control, at least, to an extent.”
“May I inquire something?” Jet asked and earned a nod from the doctor. “When Sir Thomas initially arrived in Equestria, and his potential threat wasn’t yet determined, wouldn’t it have been prudent to cast a geas to keep him pacified?”
Moonlight scowled at the bat mare for her insensitivity and notably closed the distance with her man.
“Actually, I think I remember something about that,” Thomas stated. “Um, I think I heard someone say they tried but couldn’t.”
Feelgood nodded. “Indeed. Given your unknown status and grandiose manner of arrival, magicians were called in to apply a geas. However, it didn’t work.”
“Could you clarify?” Jet asked, trying to not let anyone realize how much she was tensing. “I was under the impression that only high-tier magicians could cast such protective wards.”
“And those would have been the same magicians who tried applying the geas in the first place,” Feelgood confirmed. “However, something about Thomas makes him impervious to most known forms of mind alteration magic.”
Jet could almost hear Firestorm’s chair creaking as he doubtlessly leaned forward to better examine his crystal ball.
Thomas’ brow furrowed as he thought. “Then how come Luna can enter my dreams? Isn’t that a kind of mind magic?”
“A kind, yes, but we’re not sure,” Feelgood admitted. “It might be that your mind is open to only her because of the bond you share, but that’s yet to be tested.”
“So, why’d ya bring up the geas thing if ya already knew it couldn’t work?” Honey asked.
“To clarify, it didn’t work when we tried it, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Feelgood elaborated. “As I said, the bond you share with Luna may have been enough to circumvent whatever enables your natural resistance. Magic is notorious for such workarounds, which is why unicorns are taught to cast smarter, not harder. While unlikely, it’s possible that some third-party caster may have found some loophole. We’ll just have to add that to the next round of testing, but I wouldn’t worry. The majority of ponies even capable of such a thing are all loyal to the crowns. So, even if they did cast a geas, I’m sure they had a good reason.”
Thomas pursed his lips and looked around. When no one spoke out against the doctor’s words, the human eventually realized they were swayed by the argument. “Okay, this might be a different culture thing, but that doesn’t reassure me at all. I think I’d rather just do the test than assume the people secretly controlling my mind have the best intentions.”
“Fair enough,” Feelgood allowed.
“Not to get back on track, but what about his wrist pain?” Talon inquired.
“Ah, yes.” Feelgood began flipping through the papers in his folder, keeping his expression relatively neutral as he read. “Hmm, is there, perhaps, a human explanation?”
Thomas shrugged. “Carpal tunnel syndrome is, uh, inflammation in the wrists joints caused by certain repetitive movement. Though the biggest cause is handling technology that I haven’t touched since I got here, so I don’t think that’s it.”
“Repetitive movement, you say?” Feelgood inquired. “You wouldn’t consider your harem duties as qualifying?”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s more like if I was writing with a pen every day for hours on end. I think it’s about holding my wrist at an awkward angle for extended periods. If there’s a way to test for that, go for it, but I’ve been doing exercises that are supposed to alleviate the risk.” He then extended his straightened arms and began rotating his wrists to demonstrate.
Feelgood nodded as he studied the human’s motions. “Well, looking at your test results, the G4-Mage Sight, Mark V didn’t pick up anything resembling joint inflammation. In fact, the only thing we found around those areas is, well…” The doctor trailed off as he pulled a large, semi-shiny photo from the folder, and presented the paper for everyone to examine.
Thomas recognized the x-ray-looking image from back at the CRSA facility. Only this time, the red line connecting his wrist to his knuckles seemed brighter, and there were green and gold globs spackled randomly around his hand and arm. Curious, he looked around to check everyone’s reactions, but they seemed as confused as him.
“So, what ‘r’ we lookin’ at?” Honey asked, thankfully ending the silence.
“An anomaly, to say the least,” Feelgood said with a sigh, his boisterous enthusiasm gone as he stared at the image in scrutiny. “Part of the reason we brought in the Mark V was in response to anomalous findings from your tissue samples.” He looked around at the unfamiliar faces and added, “We’ve been taking periodic samples for testing since Thomas’ initial arrival, and the results have been… interesting, to say the least.”
Thomas swallowed and asked, “So, how bad is it?”
“First, I think I should explain about the samples we’ve been examining,” Feelgood began. “They’re mostly hair, tissue, and various fluids, and my team has been running them under a variety of tests. So far, the most interesting has been fiddling with the magic concentration in the area. You remember we discussed this last time.”
“A little,” Thomas confirmed. “Something about my wrists having no magic, but still giving off a magical reaction.”
“Indeed. Based on our observations, we can definitively conclude that there is zero magic in your body, which extends to your samples. We’ve been encasing them in low-tier wards for preservation, but the cell samples still have a relatively short life span compared to those of pony samples in equitable circumstances. However, the absence of magical wards seems to have a disproportionately profound effect on that lifespan. Further”—he paused and glanced at Thomas—“for those unfamiliar with the nature of magic, our world is filled with ambient magical energy averaging at about 100 sparks per square millimeter. Magical constructs, like wards, tend to attract that energy to them. The same goes with unicorns who cast too much. It’s like those things ponies throw in the wash to collect all the excess lint; only it’s your horn or a shield spell.”
“Oh, yeah, I learned a little about cleaning horns,” Thomas said, glad to actually have a point of reference for a change.
“Right, well, wards are a bit different than a horn. The magical gunk isn’t able to affix itself to anything. That’s just the ward doing its job of keeping unwanted things out. Instead, the ambient magic just gathers around like an invisible and easily dispatched cloud. It’s harmless, and, for us, we rarely need to do more than just wave our hands over a sample, so the scans don’t get clogged. Now, normally, the density of these clouds is proportionate to the strength of the spell cast, along with however long it’s been active. Hypothetically, if somepony as strong as Shining Armor were to cast his signature bubble shield on a room of this size, the ambient magic would concentrate to approximately 400 sparks per square millimeter, well above average. After an hour, that concentration would increase to roughly 800 sparks, thanks to all the magical gunk magnetized to the shield.”
Thomas nodded, following as best he could.
“Well, for the standard ward spells normally used by medical personnel to preserve samples, the concentration is only about 120-130 on initial casting and maybe 150 if maintained over the course of a year.” The doctor sighed, took another image from his folder, and set it up on a board for all to see.
Thomas couldn’t make heads or tails of the charts he was looking at. It looked like a nasty piece of modern art with numbers randomly scrawled all over the place.
By contrast, Moonlight and Jet could read the figures just fine, and they tensed.
“You see it, don’t you,” the doctor affirmed. “Assuming they’ve been maintained since their initial casting, the wards on Sir Thomas shouldn’t have a concentration heavier than 300.”
“So why is it 120 thousand?” Moonlight asked, gritting her teeth.
Thomas’ heart skipped a beat. If 800 was considered a lot, what the hell kind of number was 120 thousand?
“That’s the question we’ve been trying to answer,” Feelgood admitted grimly. “As I mentioned, we’ve been taking pinpoint readings from the start. We’ve timed the exact moments the wards were dispelled, as well as the moment the cell cultures died. What initially alarmed my team and me was the window of time between the dispelling of the wards and the beginnings of cell death. At first, the timeframe was pretty standard, with only minor variance. However, after a while, each dispelling saw a smaller and smaller timeframe before cell death. During that time, the ambient concentration didn’t disperse like it normally does during dispelling. In fact, the concentration only increased.” The doctor set some additional charts on the board next to the previous one.
“Oh, Faust,” Moonlight whimpered.
“Each time a sample was dispelled, the ambient magic would only increase in concentration. At first, it jumped from 120 thousand to 180. Ten tests later, it’d grown from 150 thousand to 220. Even samples being stored in different rooms were afflicted by this strange phenomenon. More perplexing was just how evenly the change happened. When the ambient concentration around one non-dispelled sample went up to 200 thousand, all of its fellow sample wards would experience equitable changes with minimal variance.”
Moonlight swallowed the lump in her throat. “Its… it’s almost like…”
“Like it’s being coordinated,” Feelgood finished grimly and reached for another paper on his desk. “We sent in for an expert in the behavior of ambient magic, and this was her take.” He cleared his throat. “All magic has a quasi-consciousness about it. Many researchers have theorized that the world as we know it can be thought of as a singular magical macro organism, with concepts such as Harmony acting in the role of a specific body organ or even organ system. When a unicorn casts a spell, or an earth pony feeds life into the dirt to encourage plant growth, it can be likened to the brain sending signals to cells to maintain regulatory function. We act on the world’s behalf, she says.”
“And what does that have to do with Thomas?” Moonlight asked.
Dr. Feelgood clucked his tongue and resumed reading. “If nature can be said to hate a vacuum, then magical nature can be said to take a vacuum as a personal insult. The figures we’ve shown here have only ever been replicated in labs. Voids without magic, as far as has been observed, almost never form naturally. When they do form, they’re short-lived as the ambient magics wash in to fill them up with remarkable haste.
“In previous experiments where voids were constructed artificially, she saw much the same results as we’re getting. The concentration of ambient magic around the wards starts within normal parameters, but, with repetition, grows with remarkable speed over time. The density of these concentrations is furthered by numerous factors, including the size and quantity of each void, as well as how frequently the wards maintaining them were dispelled. The behavior of the magic in these circumstances can best be likened to an animal living out in the untamed wilds. At first, it’s skittish of anything new intruding in its environment. However, as time passes, the animal grows more and more bold, keeping an increasingly close eye on the intruder as it anticipates its opportunity to pounce… assuming carnivorous behavior, of course.”
Finally, Feelgood folded up the paper. “In layman’s terms, the magic of the world is aware that Thomas is a void. It can’t move through the wards, though. At least not yet. Right now, although the ambient magic senses the void, it’s held at bay by the wards. However, the instant those wards go down…”
“Cell death,” Thomas lifelessly droned. “Most of that stuff went over my head, but I think I get the picture. The magic is aware I’m not magical, and it’s trying to kill me.”
“That’s a rather gross mischaracterization of the situation,” Feelgood corrected. “The magic isn’t trying to kill you, but fill you.”
“Which ends badly,” Talon interjected, her clawed hand on Thomas’ shoulder.
Feelgood pursed his lips as he stared off in thought. “It might be too early to say, but my colleagues have speculated that the ambient magic might be trying to not cause injury.”
“Explain,” Jet stated with blunt urgency.
“The differing concentrations. They follow an experimental mentality. The ambient magic is trying to do more than just fill the void. And with centuries of thaumatological research at our disposal, it’s not outlandish to theorize that the ambient magic is trying to achieve its goal with minimal harm.”
“But you just said magic is just like nature. Why does nature give a damn?” Thomas asked, shaking.
Feelgood seemed taken aback by the question. “Because… magic cares. Those with wicked intentions may twist their personal magic toward malicious ends, but on the whole, magic ranges from neutral to benevolent. It doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“And what about mistakes?” Thomas darkly countered. “You just said that all the cell samples die, so whatever the magic is doing, it’s not working.”
Feelgood needed a moment to think about that one. “If this theory holds, then the most prudent action might be to continue as we have. If we continue our dispelling experiments, then the ambient magic can likewise continue its own testing procedures. And with this new goal in mind, we can try guiding the dispelling method, like digging a trench to guide the river down a desired path. All we need is for you to maintain your current wards while we continue taking samples for study. Although, if you’re willing to increase your output, that could give both us and the ambient magic more to work with. Eventually, with enough trial and error, one of us is bound to succeed.” Feelgood’s smile finally returned with optimistic zeal, but it was tempered by Thomas’ lack of response.
“So, the only thing we can do is stay the course?” Thomas clarified. “No new drugs or anything?”
“Are there stronger wards we should apply?” Moonlight added.
Feelgood thoughtfully clucked his tongue. “The present wards are relatively minor, providing mild protection against temperature and low-level damage to your soft feet. Stepping on a sharp rock won’t hurt as bad, but a nail will still pierce your flesh. However, that actually works to our advantage. Lower-level wards aren’t as complex, which means they won’t break as easily. Going back to Shining Armor for an example. If his shield takes enough damage—”
“Then the whole thing comes down,” Thomas cut in. At everyone’s wary looks, he elaborated, “Yeah, that’s gonna happen, but I already told the Princesses.” His thoughts filled with images of the season two finale. Only, instead of a swarm of changelings pouring into the city, it was bacteria-shaped magic pouring into his body until he either popped like a balloon, or shriveled into a mummy.
Equestria is fated to face a force that will overpower the Captain’s signature spell? Lovely, Jet thought, making a mental note to inquire if Firestorm knew anything.
Feelgood nodded. “Yes, well, Shining’s spell is high-tier and designed to keep physical and magical forces from passing through, but dispel upon failure. By contrast, your low-tier spells are much softer and won’t break as easily, even if overpowered. That works for our purposes because we’re more worried about the ambient magic than any nails on the floor. So long as the wards stay up, you’re fine. However, for the time being, I’d advise against applying additional or stronger wards. You see, wards are of the same class of magic, and have been known to stack and even blend together if different spells are applied to the same subject. That runs the risk of turning your soft protection hard, which could leave you vulnerable to the hypothetical nail.”
“Wouldn’t a sufficiently hard spell stop the nail from causing damage at all?” Jet asked.
“Yes, but there’s a limit,” Feelgood countered. “Stepping slowly onto something like a sharp rock is different from stomping down with all your might. One is a mild annoyance, while the other might break the skin. Somewhere between the extremes, there’s a threshold for skin breaking, and the only way to know where it is, is to test levels of force. As things stand, your current wards are tantamount to carefully stepping through sharp objects at a safe level, but amplifying the wards would be like increasing the force of each step, which could potentially breach the threshold under the right circumstances. It might seem counterintuitive, but my assessment of the current data is that adding extra protection is not in your best interests.”
“What happens if a situation arises where additional wards are necessary, like an attack?” Moonlight asked.
Feelgood nodded. “Yes, thank you for reminding me. There are ways to apply wards to keep them from blending so that breaching one ward won’t undo the rest. Now, where did I put that?” Feelgood patted his lab coat until he pulled a pamphlet out from one of his pockets. “This should give you a basis for the casting method. But if that doesn’t seem sufficient, then there are references at the end for more in-depth reading.”
“Thank you!” Moonlight’s breathy voice was nearly a shout as she took the paper.
Curious, Thomas watched the mare unfold the item like a brochure. Only, instead of walls of text artistically scattered about and broken up by relevant pictures, there were mostly elaborate symbols he recognized from magical textbooks. Magic had its own language, similar to music, but Thomas couldn’t read either. The only parts he understood were the book titles in the bottom right corner.
Thomas watched Moonlight as she fervently studied the pamphlet. Her horn randomly gave faint glows in what he understood to be the equivalent of reading while moving one’s lips. She was being proactive in his treatment, already assuming the role of a spousal nurse taking care of her sick loved one. It was moving, but also painful to watch. This wasn’t something Thomas could do on his own, like remembering to take pills at specific times throughout the day. A magic user was needed to solve a magical issue, and he was utterly at the mercy of both. More so, it hurt to think how this was just one more thing that his pony loved ones were doing for him while his contributions seemed less and less substantial.
It was easy for the human to detach himself from the moment and look at things from a more analytical perspective. In terms of a cost/benefit analysis, all the effort put into keeping this one human happy and healthy seemed like a net loss. Of course, Thomas knew better than to even suggest such a thing. To voice such thoughts would only anger those who cared for him. It would also be disrespectful to so callously disregard the effort Moonlight was prepared to put into his care. She loved him, after all. Of course, were their situations reversed, Thomas wouldn’t be angry if his loved one said that his help wasn’t worth the effort. He’d just ignore them and help anyway. Then again, if they fought back enough, or made a compelling argument to simply let things end, then he might stop.
However, Thomas wasn’t strong enough to fight a pony on anything, least of all one as precious as Moonlight, and he doubted he could conjure a decent argument. Besides, thinking things through, the doctor had essentially said to just keep doing what they were already doing, so it wasn’t like there was any added burden. They just had to be wary that what was once a mundane routine was now vital to his life. All things considered, things could definitely be worse. It’s not like he was a bedridden invalid or losing himself to a failing memory. However, the gravity of the situation was still daunting and oppressive.
And, getting back to the point, Thomas refused to let others handle everything. He needed to also take a proactive approach in his care. “Just to be clear, going with the nail analogy, what do I need to be on the lookout for?”
Feelgood nodded. “Although this is somewhat uncharted territory, some of Equestria’s brightest medical minds came up with this theory. So, if it holds, then you shouldn’t have to worry about nails at all. How often do you renew these wards?”
Thomas looked to Moonlight. “Don’t you do them every morning?”
“Most mornings, but I may skip a night if they seem strong enough.” Moonlight then looked to Feelgood and added, “No more skipping, right?”
“That’s advisable, yes. However, these kinds of wards can last days in a single casting. While daily renewal would be best, there’s no reason to fret if you miss a morning or two. In fact…” Feelgood leaned forward and lit his horn, shining a broad spotlight that traced across Thomas’s body. “By my assessment, if this is your standard casting, then this ward should last about five days or so. Anything beyond that is pushing it. So, if you’re ever in a situation where you can’t renew your wards, you’ve got some wiggle room.”
“That would be a guard’s ultimate failure,” Jet grimly stated.
Moonlight nodded and put her hand on Thomas’ arm. “I promise I won’t let that happen to you.”
Jet thumped her fist to her chest in a salute. “So long as you are in my care, you shall not leave my sight,” she vowed. She’d have to talk with Firestorm about reassessing their strategy if it ever looked like Thomas might be captured by an enemy. She doubted if the doctor knew the odds of Thomas exploding if the wards failed, and it wouldn’t be wise to ask at this time. However, Firestorm was likely already calling on his connections to assess this possibility, and determine if killing the human was in Equestria’s best interests.
“Also, because someone’s gotta ask, what exactly happens if the wards fail?” Thomas inquired.
“They won’t,” Moonlight assured. “I won’t let that happen.”
“I know you won’t, but sometimes, things are out of our control.” Thomas turned from his mare, already feeling guilt over seemingly questioning her commitment and abilities, and faced Feelgood. “But I have to know. Worst-case scenario, what happens?”
Thank you, Jet thought while remaining stoic.
Feelgood’s nostrils flared with a snort. “Based on the latest available data, total cell death should occur in a matter of seconds. We haven’t tested for the potential for pain because we won’t let that happen. However, whatever ends up happening, it would be over quick.”
“So, I’ll just shrivel up like a dehydrated corpse, or something?” Thomas’ words made those around him flinch.
“Stars, chimp! You are one morbid little alien,” Talon stated in alarm.
“To be clear, I trust in the abilities of Moonlight, Luna, and any other unicorn assigned to your care,” Feelgood stressed. “More likely, should the worst happen, and given our projected acceleration in experiments, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground with no immediately visible cause. Your body will simply cease to function.”
“So, you don’t foresee any other likely outcomes?” Jet inquired.
“We’ve projected a few possibilities, including an explosion.” At least Feelgood had the self-awareness to realize and feel guilty about how his lack of bedside manner affected those around him. “But, that’s so unlikely, it’s not even worth mentioning. You’d have better luck playing the national lottery.”
Thomas nodded with a sigh. “So, that’s it then? Just keep applying wards until the magic in the air figures out how to not kill me?”
“In a manner, yes,” Feelgood confirmed. “Though, you have my word that my team will be working around the clock to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Thomas decided against pointing out how that line was getting repetitive. The guy was only doing his job, and being dickish to someone working to save his life seemed counterintuitive, to say the least. “Is there anything else?”
“At this time, no, unless you had any further questions,” Feelgood inquired.
Thomas looked between those surrounding him. No one said a thing, faces sullen as the facts sink in. “I guess not.” He hopped out of the chair, and his bare feet hit the floor with a soft thud, making Moonlight flinch. Shit, he thought, already seeing how this revelation would impact his life, and dreading the impending conversation with the others.