Galatea

Your magic is completely gone now, and will probably be mostly gone in the future. I’m so sorry Twilight. But we saved your strongest asset: your mind.

Honestly, it’s not even the flying. I’m a unicorn by birth, and I not never really got used to the wings. I, heh, I guess that’s what caused this whole thing, wasn’t it, Princess…”

“Cadance”

“Right, Cadance. I have to remember that. Pretty pink one is Cadance. But anyway, Cadance, I’m not going to miss flying. I suspect if were Rainbow D… D… --That thing that looks like a hyphen but is longer.—I would be more tramatized than I am now. By the lack of flying. But

What should be the role of technology in society? Is it ever okay to impede progress? What does it mean to be a pony?

What is brain loss like?

What is memory Loss like?

There, in the center of the room, lies a brain. It is unassuming, and in fact could be that of anypony. But it is my brain. It sits, verisimilitude-inally? To one of those cheesy science fiction film-reels in a small transparent glass tube, or vat if you will. It is connected to pumps and hoses and wires, and it sits in a clear liquid. That clump, a blob as soft as butter, so fragile and mallable and so easily destroyed—that clump holds all my memories, all my thoughts, all my dreams and aspirations. And it’s sitting there, surrounded by arcane machines, some powered by magic, some by electricity (in part thanks to research performed by yours truly.). It is keeping me alive. Well, not me. Me is pretty much gone. It is keeping my mind alive, more accurately. What a terrifying thought. And to think, when I was first waking up, if it can even be called that when one is trapped within ones mind, that was what it looked like, with alicorns and unicorns beaming their thoughts into my head and reading my own. Quite a trip I tell you.