Introduction, The Unsolved Mystery of Cybernetic Aura Distortion Syndrome
Shine University Herald, issue 132
Daybreak, D.M.S.
February 1040
Even before the term Aura Distortion Syndrome was coined, nearly all unicorns and pegasi had an aversion to cybernetic enhancement. At first, many Mundanes considered the fear of augmentation to be either squeamishness or superstition, but the fears of magically active individuals would turn out to be well founded. As cybernetic enhancements and medical devices became more commonplace, hospitals began to notice consistent decreases in patients’ magical abilities.
In the fall of 1029, Dr. Lamplight began a survey that would finally provide scientific evidence for the link between cybernetics and reduced magical power. His data, which spanned six years, eleven hospitals, and three thousand patients, showed that unicorn amputees who chose neural-linked limb replacements had, on average, significantly weaker telekinesis than individuals with ordinary prostheses for equivalent injuries. Today, we call this phenomenon Cybernetic Aura Distortion Syndrome, or CADS, after the "damaged" appearance of an augmented pony’s aura.
The following year, Dr. Lamplight conducted a case study on a pegasus named Gale, who had lost use of her wings and hind legs after a midair collision with a VTOL cargo vehicle. None of the hospital’s unicorn staff reported any unusual changes to Gale’s aura while she was in intensive care, nor during the hospital’s minimally effective attempts at restorative therapy.
Disappointed by the failure of magical restoration, Gale agreed to undergo nerve replacement surgery. At the time, nerve replacement was a relatively new procedure that used materials and instruments that have fallen out of favor today. Of particular relevance is the use of microchips and conductive “nanowires” to reattach the functional parts of Gale’s brain and spinal column to her paralyzed areas.
The procedure was successful, and after mere weeks of physical therapy, Gale had nearly fully functional legs and hindquarters. However, even though her wings quickly regained their full range of motion, they were never able to lift her off the ground or direct her movement in safe-fall tests.
So, what does any of this have to do with myths, legends, and ancient history?
Recently, a close friend of mine underwent cybernetic surgery as a preventive measure against heart failure. She trembled as she signed the waiver, fearing the consequences for her magical abilities, and sure enough, the artificial ventricle that the doctors installed in her chest was enough to almost completely remove her telekinetic abilities.
Experiments have so far failed to find any single criterion to determine exactly what type of body modification is destructive to magical auras. As far as anypony can tell, magic somehow “decided” that it didn’t like cybernetics. Like so many things in our Awakened world, this mystery refuses to be boxed in by observation on the material level.
I believe that answers regarding the finicky nature of auras can be found somewhere amid the sweeping implications that were thrust upon the scientific community by the Awakening. On Hearth’s Warming Eve, 1011, fantasy became reality. Myth is now studied as a subset of history, and what was once superstition is accepted as truth. In the years following the Awakening, scholars searched for meaning in every single story of the Old World, from great epics to quaint nursery rhymes. Our current theories regarding the Cataclysm, the Cycle of Ages, the War of the Sisters, and the Six Heralds come at least partially from this period of mass guesswork.
In a very real sense, my Doctorate of Magical Studies designates me as an expert on fairy tales and bedtime stories, and it was to fairy tales that I turned in my search for answers. With my research, I discovered several possible explanations for the mysteriously antagonistic relationship between cybertechnology and magic.
===To read the full text, access Dr. Daybreak’s journal.===
Yeah it's rotten of me to cut it off like this, but going on for much longer would've been boring, don't you agree?
I'll write more of Professor Daybreak's magic theory explorations eventually, even if I just write it in a google doc and say "here, here's some world-building if you really want it."
Don't worry, a real chapter is sorta-almost plotted, along with another intermission bit to provide background for Spectra.
This is a very interesting look at the world you've built. I must say, you haven't failed to pique my curiosity even more. Bravo!
Totally a minor thing, but I really love how the end was in blue text, like a hyperlink. When I moused over it to check, I was confused that a url didn't pop up. then I realized that it's an in-universe hyperlink. Well done.
1731120 Yeah, that one caught me, too.
It's nice to see the interspersed pieces, as it's like reading a JackPoint piece. It fits well, and isn't intrusive.
Well done.
Nice little bit of world-building here, although a bit disappointing with its implications. Since magic and technology very rarely join together, does that exclude the possibility of magitech?
I like how the magitech is genuinely nonscientific, in that it seems to actively defy examination. I mean, there's a lot I like, but that's the big thing I like about this Chapter.
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Yeah, that is disappointing, and the idea that ponies whose natural bodies have failed them are SOL on the magic front is even more disappointing. I've never liked the idea of cybernetics somehow killing your soul, or magic causing technology to fail (or vice versa) because of reasons.