The True Nightmare: Replication
Quiet. Nothing could be as unsettling as the utter silence pervading the air throughout the large crystal room. The room was decorated with royal finery: a king-sized bed, the curtains of the bed matched the hue of the room’s purple crystal walls. Pictures hung on a few of the surrounding walls. From outside of the window the sun’s light shone through, lighting a third of the marble floor. But the other curtains hung in front of the last few windows, blocking the other bits of luminescence.
A broken-hearted hiccup shattered the still air like the shattering of fine china on the castle’s crystal floor; it was an unfamiliar sound within the royal suite, where before the sound of laughter, coos of adoration and murmured compliments had once radiated from the royal chamber. On the floor was Cadance, her left foreleg held against her eyes.
Tears stained the fur beneath her eyes. Rubbing her eyes again, she lowered her foreleg and opened them halfway. She did not wail or scream her grief as some ponies were prone to do, which seemed to make her grief all the more pronounced. The sight of her castle’s maid staff moving throughout her suite so soon after her husband’s death felt disrespectful. Cadance was not given the privacy to grieve the loss of her beloved without somepony invading her suite. Her grief, anger, and frustration discouraged others from entering her darkened abode.
Each breath turned into a body-wracking sob. Looking down to her stomach, she slowly glanced over the bulge protruding from her. Her unborn baby — the last connection to her husband. The thought only drew even more grief-stricken sobs from her.
Cadance swallowed thickly, noticing the dry sensation in her mouth. It was as though somepony had used cotton swabs to absorb any moisture in her mouth. The air reeked, as Cadance had become uncaring about petty concerns such as regular bathing or brushing her teeth twice a day. She could barely recall the hours she had spent in isolation. Time ceased to have any meaning to her; sometimes Cadance could be found asking her servants if she was dreaming a horrid nightmare and she would wake up with her Shining Armor sleeping peacefully next to her.
No other ponies, aside from a few trusted servants were allowed to see her like this. She did not dare to subject her ponies to her unkempt, disheveled, gorgon-like appearance. Her malady was an ailment that none of her subjects could fix — wounds that could not be healed by outside help. She glanced down to the papers scattered throughout the room. She could read some of them — hoof-written by herself, though only some of it legible.
Yet she dared to further contemplate the suicidal thoughts which plagued her waking mind and haunted her dreams. Her sobs of sorrow and grief changed into choked gasps as she glared at her fetlock in self-revulsion, hating herself for even thinking about committing such a cruel and selfish action. Her body continued spasming even more as her sobbing intensified, and she then buried her eyes into her foreleg again to blind herself from this horror.
Even considering the thoughts that brought her to this state made those hateful feelings towards her own bodily existence that much stronger. But she had to work through it. She had to. For the soul resting inside her womb. Such an act would deny her unborn foal the right to live.
She wanted to see him again, even if it was only as a ghostly apparition, so that she might ask him for forgiveness for having even entertained such a cruel and selfish act as suicide and be reassured that he still loved her despite her succumbing to this moment of weakness. Nopony else should ever have to feel what she was bearing. A gloomy attitude that plagued her thoughts. Wounds that were still fresh only two weeks after Shining’s death. Despite being intensely grief-stricken, she was not yet without any hope.
Her ears flicked upwards, and she removed her forelegs from over her eyes. Blearily she opened them and rested her gaze on the door to her room. The sound of many galloping hooves came quick and purposeful from far down the hallway. Behind the door she could hear a quiet commotion of voices, her guards communing with two mares whom she had summoned immediately for the danger that she had put herself in. Cadance, however, was afraid to face her aunts. They knew that she had been thinking about suicide. All thanks to the letter of desperation she had sent them. A shudder went through her body as though the room’s temperature had dropped to the chill of a morgue. How would they react to this? And what was the consequence in store for her?
A stream of light shattered the darkness around Cadance. Growing brighter with each second. She raised a hoof to shield her eyes. When the light faded just a little, she lowered her hoof. Yet the tears only flowed anew under the concerned gazes of her aunts, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. The door closed behind them in Celestia’s light gold aura and left the three in an uneasy stillness.
“Cadance?” Celestia murmured as her ears folded back; Luna was also sharing that same worried expression.
It was hard to bear. Cadance felt that overwhelming torrent come back over her again. “A-aunties … I-I’m s-so sorry …”
Celestia was the first to act, rushing over to Cadance’s side. Cadance flinched, but Celestia pulled her closer. Resting up against Celestia’s chest, she instinctively leaned her muzzle against the welcomed warmth. Its peace only lasted for a brief moment before she was wracked with another fit of sobs.
Luna followed Celestia’s example and came closer, approaching Cadance’s hooves before kneeling close by her rounded stomach. “You worried us both.”
“Why would you say such hurtful things about yourself?” Celestia nuzzled Cadance’s muzzle, eliciting more pained cries. Like a mother to a foal, Celestia gently hushed Cadance, the best she could do for the mare in distress. “In that letter you wrote to us. You talked about yourself as if your life was meaningless.”
“I’m so sorry … I-I can’t ex-excuse myself from what I-I’ve said.” Cadance hiccuped as she finished her sentence. She pressed the top of her head against Celestia’s chest and feeling Celestia rub her chin over Cadance’s neck while Celestia’s forelegs went over Cadance’s shoulders, with Celestia holding her niece in a tight embrace. “I just miss him so much … everything’s been so difficult without him. R-running this empire … . It’s so h-hard w-without any help.” She could feel her body compress, throat tightening and chest aching. “Shining … he’s dead and it’s a-all my fault!”
Celestia and Luna could only do their best in calming down Cadance. She felt Celestia’s hoof run through her mane, the tingling sensations sparking some warmth. But it barely released any of her pain. “There is no need for that now.” Luna nuzzled Cadance’s left shoulder. “It does hurt to lose those you care about.” Cadance thought she saw a spark between the two, knowing all too well of their own battle all those years ago — a flash of regret from the two towards each other that lasted for a second.
Cadance held Luna’s gaze, watching as she followed where Luna’s attention was focused. She trailed it until she saw her own rounded stomach. It threw Cadance into another fit of shakes, triggering a sensation from Celestia. Looking up, she could see Celestia fidgeting as well, a similar pain in her eyes. “I know well about the pain of losing somepony you love so dearly.” Even Celestia’s tone, as Cadance listened, had undertones of grief and anger to it. A mother scolding her filly, pained that her niece would even consider committing such a heinous act. “When Luna was banished to the moon. I was overcome with grief. I even considered hurting myself. All because I felt like she would never forgive me for what I did.”
Celestia took a quick breath. “Please… rethink your actions. It would pain us both if we lost you and your unborn foal.”
“But… have you ever lost a pony that meant more to you than somepony like your sister?” Cadance dared to argue with her aunties. But it seemed that they barely understood her pain. She looked to Celestia and narrowed her eyes. “After five hundred years… I’ve never seen you commit to a single relationship.” The surprise on Celestia’s muzzle was all too real. Yet she continued — anger driving her words. “You’ve never lost a husband before. You can’t know how I’m feeling right now! Both of you!”
There seemed to have been some shock on her aunties’ gazes. But it seemed to subside quickly. “Yes … we’ve never had a strong relationship like that.” Celestia glanced to her sister. A single tear trickled down her muzzle. “But … when I lost my sister for those thousand years, I never felt so alone.”
“B-but she came back …” Cadance pointed out. “You get your happy ending … . Where’s my happy ever after? Where’s my miracle? I love him so much that it really hurts!” Wracked in another fit of sobs, she lost the words to continue.
The embrace Celestia gave Cadance only tightened. “You’re hurting … I know.” Even her voice began to crack. That solid barrier finally falling apart as Celestia too gave into her emotions. “It is unfair that Shining Armor was taken away from you. But don’t let your grief blind you. It’ll only lead to more pain. Try and remember the good times you had with him. Celebrate and remember the life you had together, the time you spent together. Tell your foal what his or her daddy was like, the values he cherished. The honor and chivalry he embodied and his strong desire to protect others.” Even as Cadance continued to cry, she listened to every word. “It really is up to you. We can’t be the heroes you deserve. But you can … you can save yourself and your unborn foal.”
Cadance’s eyes lowered halfway, tears ceaselessly pouring out. There was no denying what Celestia and Luna were trying to say. Cadance could only nod before her body shivered in that same overwhelming grief. Ashamed could not even begin to describe what she felt. “I-I’m so-s-sorry … I didn’t mean to h-h-hurt you …” Celestia only shushed her again, tightening her grip around Cadance’s shoulders.
“I know … I know.” Tears finally ran down Celestia’s muzzle. Luna added her own embrace to Cadance, twin streams of tears flowing from her eyes. Despite the soul-crushing grief she was experiencing, Cadance took solace from somepony caring enough about her during her time of grief to help support her and encourage and comfort her. That there was still somepony who cared about whether she lived or died, that her life mattered to somepony.
Her aunts had come to her rescue. Even as selfish as it felt, Cadance could feel a tiny piece of comfort course through her. However, her comfort was much diminished and tempered by her far more intense feeling of grief. Her grief provided a new perspective on comfort, and she examined this feeling of comfort as though encountering something strange and new for the first time — a comfort which had almost been lost to the dark claws of grief and sorrow which now seemed to inhabit this world. And with the help of her family, she would fight against her suicidal thoughts, so that she might not add sorrow upon sorrow, or rob her unborn foal of its chance to live.
So little had seemingly changed. The sun shone its billions-of-years-old light, unchangeable, like the rising of the tides and the breeze carried by the trees. Life never altered its constant routine. Such was not the case for Celestia. Glancing up at the sun, she hummed at the warmth she received from its glow. With a sigh, she felt herself relax.
Yet only for a few moments. Voices brought her back to reality. She looked down to the seven ponies in front of her, all sitting with straight postures. Celestia had been seated for over an hour by this point, greeting these new ponies and informing them of their tasks. If it wasn’t for the formal clothing they wore as well as how they constantly complimented her, it’d be less awkward for them all. Such was the way these meetings tended to go. Leaning forward, the cartilage in her forelegs popped a little, relieving her a little bit of the stress which had been building up in her legs.
It was time she got up for a little while. “Thank you for attending this meeting.” With great clarity in her tone, a benevolence that seemed to ease the ponies. “I’m glad to have met each and every one of you. It assures me that my choice in nominating you seven as my personal senators for the governing and decision making of Equestria has been met with great success.”
Those once-serious expressions worn by the row of stallions and mares quickly switched to assured smiles, a couple even taking a few breaths of relief, which Celestia silently chuckled at. Standing up, she nodded to the ponies. “You may take your leave now.” Each pony stood up and, one by one, bowed towards their princess, then took their leave.
When the last pony left, Celestia stepped off her throne. She stretched each individual leg. The tension from earlier left and felt replaced by a new vigor. Yet Celestia stared ahead of her for a brief moment. Her smile faltered, and she gave a small frown. With a step forward, she moved towards the door and down the left hallway, the echo of gilded shoes vibrating off the walls; a familiar sound, one that was common when she was alone.
Even with the amount of staff located here at the Canterlot Palace, most were usually busy with their own work. Sometimes ponies were just too scared to talk to her like some other normal passerby. With Luna back, that homely feeling had returned. Still, while so much of life had remained the same, the world continued to grow. What wasn’t affected was the nature that constantly circled around them, unaffected by the process of time. Celestia looked upwards again to be greeted by the sun once more.
The sun would never change. At least not yet. She glanced to her right and saw a row of windows. Pausing in her step, she turned her attention to the outside: the green leaves shaking in the wind, branches rattling in their own rhythmic dances. Sounds pleasant to the ears, Celestia thought, as was the smell of summer carried by the wind. It was only then that she noticed her reflection against the glass. While it was certainly bright outside, she could make out her own body.
Her body had slightly thinned due to the lack of sweets. A change to her diet — a hard obstacle. A new attitude from the days of that dreaded Xenomorph. All that death. All the sorrow from that Alien, and the others born from the “hard” work, done by the late Bishop Neighland. Each dead pony she saw only ruined any appetite she had. She ate of course, but not as unhealthily as before.
Her eye color had remained the same as always. The only exception being her light pink eyeshadow. She glanced at her ethereal mane and reminisced on the old colors that used to be there. Another sign of her age. Instead she was greeted by a familiar sight. That familiar light pink color had returned, like she was reversing in her age. She gave a chuckle. “After a thousand years … I thought I’d never see this color again.” It was only a matter of time before it either fully changed, or something new would come from this transitioning appearance.
Peeling her gaze away from the reflection, she returned on her intended path and continued down in a straight line. Up a flight of stairs and moving down a right corridor, she slowed her walk. Two more steps, and she stood a few feet from a door: a door marked with a moon, her sister’s room.
Behind it, she could hear her sister’s voice, as loud as it usually was around this time of the day. “Here again, teaching her pupil.” She giggled this time. The thought of her sister’s pupil brought back the days of her teaching Twilight Sparkle. With a gentle hoof, Celestia knocked on the door. Luna’s voice cut off before a set of hooves approached the door. The door clicked, swinging wide open to a room filled with only the light of candles.
Luna’s pupils shrunk, adjusting to the light. Her gaze softened as she stared up to her older sister. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Celestia asked.
With a shake of her head, Luna’s smile brightened. “You are fine, Tia.” Luna smirked as Celestia gave her a playful smile at the nickname. “I was just nearing the end of my lecture.”
Celestia looked her sister over. The exterior of her sister’s mane had brightened, now a pale grayish persian blue. The interior darkened to a lighter purple color. The twinkling added an effect as if you could see the deep of space within her mane. She had even added a new bit of bright blue eyeshadow to her eyes. She was going to continue to grow. But no matter what, her sister was always going to be her little Lulu.
Looking past her sister she saw a familiar set of eyes; the same as her sister’s. However, they belonged to a familiar young mare. The pony in question came closer to the light. “And how are your studies coming along with Luna, Nyx?”
She stared up at Celestia before that ever-innocent smile greeted her. “It’s coming along pretty well. It’s been fun learning from Luna.” And Nyx too seemed to have been growing up as well, her mane having stretched past her left shoulder, and her tail also nearly touching the ground. As tall as her adopted mother — how much had Nyx grown these days.
Celestia smiled at the news. “It has been an amusing process,” Luna added, glancing at Nyx to her right. There had been some concern from members of their entourage when Luna announced that Nyx was to become her pupil. They feared that this mare was putting on some type of mirage to get closer to them. That she’d return to her evil ways. As of late that had not been the case. “I cannot thank her enough for spending a bit of her own time with me.” Luna reached forward and nuzzled Nyx, who only giggled in return.
So much was changing. However, for a being who was at least over a millennium in age, many of the changes which happened around her seemed to happen so quickly, thanks to having lived as long as she had. However, regardless of her personal feelings with regards to the topic of change, it was coming nonetheless. A shadow passed over them, which Celestia turned to look towards the sky. A few fluffy white clouds were blocking the sun. However, it was nothing much to worry about.
“Celestia.” She brought her attention back to Luna, who held an air of concern in her eyes. “Did you already see to your … ‘helpers’?” With a frown, Celestia nodded. What Luna called them, however, was a little rude. “Nyx,” Luna murmured. “Can you wait in the room for a few minutes? I would like to talk with my sister for a moment.”
Nyx stared at the two, that same questioning gaze in her eyes. She slowly nodded before returning to the familiar environment of Luna’s room, yet not without glancing over her left shoulder with a worried frown. The door closed within Luna’s dark blue aura, vanishing just as it appeared.
“It still does not make sense why you are putting your faith in seven random ponies.”
“It is to help us both, Luna.” Despite her frown shrinking, Celestia sighed. “With Crystal Rune still under my tutelage, and Nyx under yours, I feel that this is the most logical action.”
“To trust seven different ponies? Who may or may not have agendas of their own? What is to stop them from abusing their power?”
That shade from the sun seemed to be lasting forever, yet it was an appropriate shadow for the conversation. “I understand your hesitance. But with the technology of both Equestria and the other countries around the world changing — at a rate which I fear is too fast for us all — having a council of advisors with the viewpoints of our mortal subjects may help you and me make better judgements.”
Luna’s gaze sharpened. “I can make perfectly clear decisions, Celestia. I do not need other ponies looking over my back as I determine what is better for us, for our citizens, our ponies, and for Equestria.” With an added snort, she continued, “I understand that you are trying to do what is right… but between us two, you having governed Equestria for a thousand years by yourself in addition to your experience as Equestria’s princess, both prior to and after my banishment and eventual return. You certainly did not require the assistance of others back then, nor did you require it after my return home.”
How much of a truth that was. Her sister was right on all of those accounts. But too much was going on. Both had students to teach. Equestria was changing towards a new and cleaner source of power. So much was going to happen while Equestria rushed headlong into the Age of Industrialization, Invention, and Innovation; the management and regulation of such would surely require a team and the attention of the Bureau for Commerce as well as the Board for Equestrian Laborers.
Not to mention that the economy could take a drastic plunge if it was not properly regulated during this progression forward. The light of the sun beamed upon the two princesses as the cloud-mass which had obscured it was blown away by the wind.
Celestia raised a hoof towards Luna, whose gaze softened. She felt the gentle prod of her younger sister’s hoof. “I know you are wary of this new system, Luna. I’m uncertain if my decision will help us, but I have to put faith into this new system. Everything is changing so quickly. So many things have taken place in these past few years, things which I had failed to anticipate. And we need a way of making sure that our subjects aren’t hurt during this new period of transition.”
It was Luna’s turn to huff, while nervously scuffing the floor with her right forehoof. Yet she gave a soft smile. “I know, Tia. I, too, am concerned about adjusting to such a fast pace.”
Even after these last three years, after the last Xenomorph Queen was finally killed, Luna had a long way to go in order to figure out the new ways of this far more modernized world. She was a mare trapped in the past, but she was always making strides in adapting to this strange new world.
“I promised to give these ponies a chance, Luna. But even so, I will confess to being apprehensive about whether or not this the right choice.”
With that, Luna moved forward. The two sisters embraced one another, pulling away a few seconds later. “I shall see you in a little while.”
“Of course.” Luna nodded her farewell before returning to her room, closing the door as she entered into her candlelit chamber. Celestia stared for a moment at the symbols engraved into her sister’s door. Yet her mind was somewhere else than studying the intricate details of the lunar symbols. Did she trust these ponies to make the right decisions? Could she even trust herself with this blind hope that she was leading herself on?
Three years had passed since the turmoil of those days when she had killed ponies in order to save those she cared about; she had made hard choices, but they were necessary if Equestria was to recover from the extraterrestrial invasion. And even to this day, that part of her remained. While it was an aspect of her that rarely needed to be used as Equestria marched into the modern age, she could still feel that stern authority which had overtaken her once before. It was there lying in wait — like any tool which had been created, awaiting to fulfill the purpose for which it had been made for — waiting for the chance to be made useful to her once more.
She would not let that happen again. She would do everything she could to ensure that it would not come to that. Shaking herself of her gloomy musings and the self-recriminating thoughts from her mind, she walked down the hall to the left of Luna’s room and towards her own. She left the door open as she went in. Crystal Rune would be arriving within the next few minutes. It was time to clear her head and welcome her old faithful student once more. She took solace in the familiarity of this age-old routine. It had remained one of the few parts of her life which hadn’t changed. It was one of the few things in her long life that she was glad to keep the same.
The progression of the world as it entered the Age of Industrialization occurred at a rate which boggled the minds of many of the ponies who were living during this time of rapid change. What was to come was anypony’s guess. Yet for Nenne Seion, she could feel nothing but excitement as she stared down at the holographic projection below her, her body slightly shaking. ‘What a great time to be alive,’ she thought. Numbers were constantly shifting, never staying the same for very long. Blue lights dotted the dark room all around her. Machines whirred, thereby making the room far from the quiet refuge which many of her peers thought it to be. Glancing to her sides, she could see several other ponies, six others to be exact, helping with the new project.
Ahead of the group stood several large pods, each one of which had come to be called the Growth Pod. Inside floated a row of creatures which these ponies recognized. While three of them had some odd features they were similar to normal ponies, all with the exception of one being that everypony still saw as an alien; even after having been exposed for long periods of time. As Nenne had come to learn, these beings were known as humans. “Life signs seem nominal, Dr. Seion,” one of the scientists said. “Her heart pulse is stable. No immediate changes so far.”
Nenne nodded. “There’s no need for alarm, either. We were able to introduce life once before. We can do it a second time.” The first time was not a failure. Some of the side effects had not been known, but only hypothesized before the first clone breathed signs of life. Now it had been theorized. The side effects had been fatal. However, they were more prepared to keep the next bio-engineered life form alive for what they hoped would be a much longer lifespan duration than their first artificially created human.
“Scans are looking good. There is a ninety-nine percent chance that this one will meet our projected longevity goal,” a mare scientist near to her right added.
“Good.” Nenne smiled, a modest one at that. What was coming had only been a dream to her. No longer could this reality be prevented. All the technology they’d had at their disposal prior to these days was too primitive to create these new beings. Magic could have brought them to life, but even with magic, the events leading up to and after their birth could have been unpredictable. Here Nenne could monitor and control the process of this artificial human creation in an orderly fashion. She had full control of the entire process all at the tip of her hooves. She could decide what shape her creation had and how her creation looked.
She enjoyed having full control over the entire process of creating artificial lifeforms. But even with the ability to play creator, there were always going to be added genetic side effects that she could not foresee. A beep on the monitor sounded off, flashing with a red light. “Monitor says that she’s ready. Cut the life support and empty the tank.” A pony farther to her left nodded and pressed a pattern of buttons. A hissing sound echoed from the containment room.
It was slow at first, while the bright blue liquid in the pod slowly filtered out. The human inside only seemed to fidget around, still appearing unconscious. Two complex mechanical tentacles that had once been connected to the human detatched from the human’s back and retracted upwards toward the ceiling; a small mist of blood followed but for a brief period of time. An alarm rang out. This was all just like last time. “Life support systems have been cut off. Opening the pod now.” Nenne watched as another stallion in front of her pulled a few levers, pressing a few buttons afterwards.
This was it; after six years — six years since the destruction of Neighland-Yupony, six years after the death of Bishop Neighland — Nenne’s dreams were finally going to become a reality. Standing up on her hooves, she quickly paced to a door, the only entrance to the room. As she stood at the ready, another mare gazed into the room, moving to stand by her side. “You think we can manage to keep this one alive?”
“Positive,” Nenne said. “The results from our first failure have been carefully studied. We’ll be ready to keep this one from dying.” When she finished, another hiss caught her attention. Looking into the room, she saw the pod opening up, some of the blue liquid pouring out onto the floor. The human slowly followed afterward, slipping onto the metal floor in front of the pod. With a swift move of her hoof, Nenne opened the door and trotted in. A faint salt smell greeted her first. She slowed to a halt and leaned closer to the newly-born human, one that had purposefully been made to recreate the young adult who had landed on Equus.
It was like before; the size comparison was similar. While she herself was a bit taller than most other ponies, the newborn human dwarfed her in size. The human’s stature was a little off-putting as well. Continuing her observations, Nenne surveyed the sides of the human. They were expanding and contracting. ‘She’s breathing. That’s a good sign.’ Then came the coughing, that familiar tone like before. It was the same gentle sound from before, even if it was a little bit of a rough cough. “She’s trying to adapt to the air. Send in a little more oxygen.”
The vents buzzed to life; the wind carried a little chill, but nothing to worry about. Nenne continued to note all of the human girl’s differences. She raised a hoof towards the human girl, and as tenderly as she could be, rested her hoof against the bare skin, one that, even as the oxygen came in, still held that familiar saline scent. This one had no fur to her body, nowhere else except for the top of her head. Her hair extended down at the same length as the original version; past her shoulders but nowhere close to the middle of her back.
When the human girl turned towards Nenne, she flinched and swatted the hoof away. “Easy,” Nenne murmured in a soft tone. The naked human girl only backed away, scrambling on her hands and feet back to the wall, her breathing a little fast. “It’s okay,” Nenne continued to reassure her. Slowly she approached. She knew it was best not to frighten this newborn human. It was better to be careful — for even being newly born, she was quite dangerous.
The girl’s breathing seemed to decrease a little. And with a hesitant move of her own, she reached out a hand towards Nenne’s hoof. “Yes … it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you,” she said in that same motherly tone. The human flinched when her hand came into contact with Nenne’s hoof, but she hesitantly brought it back and rested her hand on the hoof. Her breathing slowed, yet she still held a fearful gaze. Still, it was good progress. Nenne took another opportunity to survey the new being in front of her.
As she had noted in her head, the specimen was born without fur. She had a similar set of feet and hands. When she had touched the girl, the skin was of course wet. But it felt smooth even without the slippery water that still clung to her newly born body. Her gaze rested on the more feminine bits to this human being. The layout of course was different. The mammary glands were on her chest, more fully rounded out than most pregnant mares.
It would take a little bit of time to get used to the idea that she wasn’t pregnant. As a scientist, however, curiosity was quick to take over as she lowered her sights past her navel and towards the more intimate area. Her vulva looked pristine; no unsightly pubic hairs. Even her slender thighs brought a halt to her thoughts — further experiments would be required to see how fast she could run.
The other observations brought Nenne’s attention upward and to the top of her head. The eyes that stared back at her were a moderate rose. Such familiar eyes. It brought another pony to mind. But she quickly dismissed the thoughts. Turning to her hair, the human’s hair extended all the way to her shoulders, even a bit below them. Auburn, mostly, with familiar pale pink accents to it. That was the new bit to her. Nenne reached forward and brought a gentle hoof to the right of the girl’s face.
One last detail caught her eye. On the left side of the girl’s face, there on the human’s left cheek was a cutie mark, a surprising addition to her notes. How this could be a possibility was unbeknownst her own knowledge. All ponies had to earn their cutie marks. Yet this being here seemed to have been born with it, like a gift because of her birth. The mark itself was a familiar sight indeed, with a red sun hovering above a tidal wave.
She had not reacted with violence so far. A good sign indeed. The human girl sighed, closing her eyes as she softly gripped Nenne’s hoof. “There we go. You see? I’m a friendly mare.” Much work would be required to prepare this human for the new world around her. But at the moment, it could wait.
“Dr. Seion.” Nenne glanced over her right shoulder. “Should we move the specimen to her room?”
She shook her head. “I think the need for the word ‘specimen’ is a little harsh. This human is a living, breathing creature after all.” Nenne returned her attention to the girl. She opened her eyes a little, a new curious stare now overtaking her fear. “You are the improvement of another, after all. In that case, you need a name.” It didn’t take long before she came up with one. “How about … April?” The girl’s eyes glimmered with that same curiosity, and yet almost seemed to show a familiarity with that name. “April it is, then. Welcome to Equus, April.”
Author's Note
Yay, yay, yay! It's finally here!
