So, Twily, seems you've just been visited. And abducted. Fortunately, there's a guide for everything, including how to survive and thrive in the hellhole you've found yourself in. This is that upbeat, lemony, weirdly specific guide!
So, Twily, seems you've just been visited. By a bunch of murderous alien monstrosities that call a moon-sized biomechanical sphere home. Who've abducted you and want to do some truly horrific things to you. But don't worry! This inappropriately upbeat, inexplicably specific, admittedly somewhat lemony guide is here to guide you through every nightmarish, horror-laden step of the way!
Just a quick note before we get into the story; if you’re gonna downvote this, I’d appreciate a comment explaining why you did so, preferably something a little more constructive than just “this story sucks” with no further elaboration. Thank you.
Dear Twilight, I have some bad news for you. You have visitors.
Normally, this isn’t a big deal. You’ve hosted visitors before, you can handle it.
The thing is, visitors don’t always come from across the street, or from another town, or even from another nation. Sometimes, they come from a big gaping hole in space and time, in a spherical, colossal organic spaceship, to lap at a river of pony blood.
Okay, now you’re starting to freak out. That’s okay; I understand. It can be scary meeting new creatures, especially when those creatures are the shock troops of a bloodthirsty, brutal alien civilization whose greatest minds developed FTL travel while Ponykind’s distant, herd animal ancestors were just beginning to develop magical talent.
This may seem hard, but try not to panic as you feel the first gentle tugs of their tractor beams, or focus on the looming bio-mechanical vessel producing those tractor beams.
Instead, just close your eyes and imagine that you are flying through the air, like a bird. Or Rainbow Dash.
Atta girl; now you’re flying for real! …not that you’d need an alien tractor beam to do that. You have wings after all.
When you come too, you’ll probably find yourself shackled to a slab hanging from a giant pony conveyor belt setup, a magic-suppressing collar clamped around your neck as you sail through the churning (and sometimes literal) bowels of the gargantuan biomechanical orb the aliens call home.
It’s sorta like a rollercoaster. You’ve been on those before, no? Remember when Celestia dragged you outta the library for a day so you wouldn’t miss the traveling carnival, and you lost your lunch after riding the Twist n’ Turn? This is a lot like that!
Of course, there are a few differences. Like, say, the fact that there are no lines. Or the fact that this ride is a lot smoother. Or the fact that, for most ponies, the end of this ride consists of a machine that liquifies ponies alive.
Y’know, a machine like the one you just passed. The one that you just saw grinding poor Gilda into a pulp and slurping her slimy remains into the guts of this unfathomably massive planetoid-shaped spacecraft.
Settle down, Twily. Yeah, I know, having to watch somepony die is a great way to end up traumatized for life, but Gilda was an unapologetic jerkass. Besides, that’s not gonna happen to you. The aliens in charge of this place have something a little more… invasive in mind for you.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You’re strapped down by a buncha tentacles in some kind of surgical theater, there’s a half-mechanical, half-anatomical contraption suspended above you that makes most alien abduction movies seem tame, that contraption just amputated your legs, your wings, and your horn, and you need to get the buck outta dodge before it chops off anything else.
Too bad you’ll need legs, wings, and a horn for that, especially considering the fact that you couldn’t squirm your way free of the tentacles holding you in place even when you still had all your limbs. Fortunately, the contraption’s about to fix that for you.
Again, try to relax. Try not to focus on the gleaming, claw-tipped, semi-mechanical prosthetic legs that are being attached at your shoulders to replace the legs that were chopped off, or the wires and cords being painfully threaded through your flesh, or the black, slimy, nanotech gel that's being pumped into your bloodstream. Yeah, yeah, you're being turned into something straight outta a particularly horrific science fiction novel, but don't worry, you'll have an opportunity to escape in a second.
How, exactly? Well, for some reason, this space-faring hyper-advanced civilization still needs manual labor. And for some reason, they need to abduct sapient creatures and surgically alter them into half-alive, cybernetically enhanced mind-controlled slaves to sate that need. Hence why the mechanism above you is currently implanting a quartet of segmented biomechanical arms into the sockets your wings used to occupy.
Thing is, they’re leaving the chip they’ll affix to your brain stem to hijack your body’s nervous system and leave you in an “I have no mouth and yet I must scream”-esque predicament for last. And the magic-suppressing collar that’s still clamped around your neck? It doesn’t suppress the particular brand of magic that piece of metal they’re replacing your amputated horn with channels.
That's the opportunity I was talking about earlier; once that horn's firmly in place and the nanotech goop in your bloodstream wires it into your brain, a short window will open up where you have free reign to use magic, or at least a form of magic. All you need to do is power through the pain, figure out how to use your new horn to cast a quick, easy spell, and…
…okay then. An actual spell, or even a less dramatic display of telekinesis would’ve achieved the same effect while not being quite so strenuous, not consuming almost all of your mana, and not running the risk of compromising the integrity of the room and bringing the roof down on you, but it’s not like I could’ve stopped you from reducing that contraption to a messy, dripping, bronze-colored stain on the ceiling even if I'd wanted to. You do you, Twily.
Just make sure to keep your head about you. Your captors may not have heard the noisy crunch that device made when you squished it flat, but they’ll definitely notice that it’s stopped working at some point, and probably send something undesirable to check it out. You should probably gather up whatever magic you have left, get the tentacles wrapped around you off, and find somewhere to hide before that something shows up.
…what’s the holdup? What’s taking you so… oh.
Oh, Twily, don’t cry! Look on the bright side! Take a moment to appreciate your new lease on life! Sure, you’re now a twisted cyborg freak who makes King Sombra look like friggin' Celestia in comparison, but you’re a twisted cyborg freak who's now free to do whatever you want to do! …just so long as you do it within the confines of this unfathomably huge, inescapable alien torture-plex.
See that, Twily? You know, that thing that’s poking around the room while you spy on it from the little bolt-hole you found? That’s a Hunter. They’re like those humans Lyra keeps prattling on about every time you’re in earshot-
Wait. What was that?
Oh, you can hear me now? Good to know.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. These things are like the humans Lyra’s so obsessed with, but with scales and claws rather than skin and fingernails. Oh, and my earlier description of this place as an “Alien torture-plex?” These guys are that torture-plex’s guards. They’re lean, mean, sporting alien death rays, and will do everything in their power to drag you kicking and screaming off to a fate best not dwelled upon, or failing that, kill you.
That is, unless you take initiative, and kill them first.
What was that? You aren’t a killer? The very thought of being one just made you puke?
…pretty sure the thing heard you spilling your guts all over the floor, if the way it’s heading toward your hidey hole is any indication.
But before you do anything you’ll regret, take a moment to think about everything you’ve been through. Seriously. I mean, this creature is in service to a force that has sucked up the entirety of ponyville, is currently in the process of enslaving, vivisecting, killing and/or eating everyone you’ve ever known, tried to do the formermost two to you, and is directly responsible for you complete and utter inability to make any lists for these past few minutes. How does all that make you feel?
It makes you feel mad, right? Mad enough to kill, right?
…no? It doesn’t?
Well, it’s just found you, and it’s trying to kill you now. Remember the golden rule, Twily? Do unto others as they do unto you? Right now, this particular ‘other’ is trying to murder you.
So go ahead.
Do unto him what he’s doing unto you, and murder that reptilian son of a bitch first. Murder him in cold, black, alien blood.
Taste that, Twily? That’s vengeance. It’s got a sweet taste, doesn’t it? Like Pinkie Pie’s Cupcakes?
…it doesn’t? The taste of it makes you want to puke? Again? Do you even have anything left in your stomach to puke up?
…nevermind that, seems you do have stuff left to puke up. To each their own, I guess.
Anyway, once your stomach has stopped doing flip flops, take a quick look around. There’s something you’re gonna need.
Getting warmer… a little to your left… look down a bit… there! See that gun? Y’know, the biomechanical half-alive laser rifle the Hunter you just murdered was carrying? Steel your stomach, Twily, and snatch that gun up. You’re gonna need it. No need to be shy; the thing doesn’t bite. I promise.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Alien technology can be a little weird, and wasn’t exactly designed with the comfort of pony users in mind. But you’re gonna need it if you want to survive.
Before you bolt, there’s a little something you need to see. See that nub on the handle, about where the Hunter’s thumb was? Take a look down the thing’s scope, and give that button a squeeze.
Relax, Twily! I told you it wasn’t going to bite, right? Just let that little tendril give your eyeball a good lick… and there! That, Twily, is the gun’s zoom gland. It’ll let you kill things the way these Hunters do: from afar.
And that’s not the only fun little toy this place has to offer! Look past all the visceral biomechanisms and industrialized evil, and you’ll find plenty of nifty little gadgets. There’s a fleshy bulb that shoots exploding spiders, a tube that spits acidic slime… oh, and a glowing wormhole in the space-time continuum. Go ahead, hop on through!
Remember what I said about nifty gadgets? One of those nifty gadgets lets the guys who built this place treat all the regular rules of creation like opt-in policies they can toss right out the window the instant it’s even remotely convenient to do so. Like the rules of gravity. That’s why that Hunter on the other side of the portal’s walking upside-down on the ceiling. Or maybe you’re the one that’s upside down. Kinda hard to tell when walls can become floors at the pull of a trigger or the drop of a grenade.
What was that? You wanna know what laws these creatures do pay attention too? Here’s one: The law of the jungle. Y’know, kill and be killed, survival of the fittest and all that.
Stay on the right side of that law, my little pony, and you’ll be juuust fine!