When they reopened, it was daylight. Lyra crawled to the stairs and slowly thumped her way down to the kitchen and to the island in the center, kicking away debris as she went. She reached out and touched the corner, depressing a hidden switch.

“It’s so real to me: Anthropology.” *click tick!* The corner opened, allowing the island to open at the side. Inside was a large metal contraption that honestly made no sense to me. “I don’t have to horse around now. I can stand on two legs.” The robot whirred to life.

“Good morning, Mrs. Heartstrings. How may I be of assistance today?” it asked.

“I would trade my magic powers for a set of new legs.”

“Oh dear. May I take a look at the extent of the damage?”

“Grab your camera. Come on, zoom in.”

“You look absolutely horrible. Would you like a full reconstruction, or merely a repair?"

“‘Cause your favorite mare’s a human. Me!”

“If you insist. Are you sure you want the full reconstruction?”

“That’s who I’ll be.”

“Acknowledged. Full reconstruction selected. Please provide password.”

“Anthropology.”

“Password accepted. There are some appendages in the way, so I’ll have to remove them. This may sting a little.” The high-pitched grind of a buzzsaw pierced my ears as a pair of metallic claws gripped just below where my legs connected to my torso. Oh shit! No! No no no no no no no no no no no BAD! Bad memory! Bad saw! Go awAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!

I watched in horror as the robot slowly tore through her limbs. Lyra seemed prepared for this, however, as not even a squeak passed through her throat. She ground her teeth together, but the griffon was right. She is very tough.

That doesn’t mean I was glad to be going through it with her.

The saw carved a neat curve out of my body, leaving a smooth if bloody cavity. The robot sprayed a healing mist over the area which used to be my left foreleg, sealing it. “You’re doing wonderfully, Mrs. Heartstrings. Just need to remove one more appendage and smooth out a couple rough patches, then the reconstruction may begin.”

I determined to be as tough as Lyra this time around, but it was incredibly difficult. Her eyes closed, which made it easier, but the squeal which ground into the bones of her hindleg still caused me to cry out. Again, the spray of healing potion soothed the searing flame that burned in her flank. The saw died down, and Lyra opened her eyes. I saw both of her left legs lying in bloody heaps next to her. If I could’ve made this body puke, I would have.

*schick* Pain flared through her right side, this time from the scalpels that dug through the nubs of her right legs. Round and round they went until the stumps were removed, exposing my insides to the open air once again. The robot pulled a magnet from somewhere and applied it to the bloody area, drawing out the shotgun pellets that had been embedded inside. Finally, the procedure was over, and Lyra was healed for a third time.

“Very good, Mrs. Heartstrings! I am highly impressed by your fortitude. The removal process is complete. Commencing prosthetic reconstruction. Attaching nerve reception plate.” A large metal plate contoured to Lyra's body and adhered to her belly, covering her entire underside and around the flank.

“Nerve reception plate in place. Please apply magic to seal the bond.” Her horn glowed a weak blue, touching the edges of the new attachment with her magic.

“Magic applied. Attaching prosthetic limbs.” Four oddly shaped chunks of metal issued from beneath the island. Those didn’t look anything like pony legs! The limbs attached to receptacles which held them in place and interwove them into the nerve system. “Arms and legs attached. Test of new features recommended.”

Lyra rose to her hindhooves and tested the functionality of the new parts. She held her forehooves-- No, these are hands! Fingers and all! The fingers flexed and balled into fists, then straightened out again. She swung her arms forward and backward, up and down, in and out, all the while maintaining her balance incredibly well. I suppose that happens when you practice standing on two hooves all the time.

She then looked down at her hoo-- feet. Toes and all. Not claws like a hellhound’s, but actual toes. She wiggled them individually, then rotated her feet, flexed her legs, and even tested balance on a single foot. Surprisingly, it worked! Those new toes really help out when standing, compensating for slight imbalances.

“Excellent tests, Mrs. Heartstrings! You have full functionality, and have adapted to your new limbs extremely well. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Bon Bon, I’m coming for you. Just one more thing I need to grab.” Lyra turned and faced her robot. “Babies, children, teens and elders, all alike have clothes to wear.” I inwardly sighed. In my opinion, Lyra's sing-songing was quickly getting old.

“Ah, yes! It is stored here!” The metal creature opened itself, revealing a terrifying suit of armor designed specifically to match Lyra’s new body. It was black from horn to boot with the eyes tinted a deep crimson, made of a tough metal and leather at the joints. Its slanted eyes exuded a look of menace. Just looking at the beast sent chills through my mental spine. “Would you like to wear it now?”

“It’s so real to me: Anthropology.”

“Very well. Here you are.” Lyra put on the the suit. The leg guards were fastened in place around her mechanical lower half, jointed at the knees and hips for mobility. They contained slots for pistols at the hip, as well as small pouches lining the waist. Next, the torso armor was buckled around her body; essentially a pair of thick slabs of metal which contoured to the curves of her flank, leaving gaps around the limbs. A band of leather connected to a metal belt attached to the leg guards, providing for some protection of her waist without sacrificing movement. On the back were several large holsters, filled by weapons that I couldn’t quite identify.

On her feet, she fastened a pair of thick, armored boots, jointed at the top of the foot to allow free movement. On the underside, a set of wheels lay hidden in the sole. A set of enormous bracers reaching from the shoulders down to her hands were attached to the chestplate, again jointed at the shoulders and knees for mobility. On the tops of the arms were two scabbards. Lyra picked up the sharpest of Bon Bon’s kitchen knives and placed them inside, leaving only the tips of the handles showing. She brushed a small switch on the sides of the scabbards. There was a click, and the two knives jettisoned directly into her hands. Satisfied, she placed the knives back inside.

Once the ensemble was complete, she picked up her helmet. The place for her eyes was covered by a dark visor, but it immediately sprang to life once she put it on. The world looked much like it had when Lyra had shot the griffon that tried to grab a gun, only not in slow motion. In many ways, it reminded me of a PipBuck. Several images appeared before my eyes, indicating my limbs had a sufficient supply of gems. What that meant, only Lyra knows. Talismans all functioning correctly. Weight negation, ammunition restoration, condition restoration... Damn, Lyra! What the hell was this monstrosity?

“You look ready to battle the world, Mrs. Heartstrings.”

“Not the world,” said a dark, electronic voice. Was that really the ancient mare I had grown to respect? “Just those responsible for stealing Bon Bon. Thank you for everything. You can go back to sleep, now.”

“As you wish. Until we meet again, Mrs. Heartstrings.” The robot returned to the space underneath the island.

“Mark Waypoint: Riverside. Primary Objective: Rescue Bon Bon.” A small arrow appeared on the compass at the base of the interface. “You wanted my research? You’re about to get a full blown demonstration. Secondary Objective: Destroy the Talons.”

Author's Note

Inspiration for the interaction with the robot - Anthropology