//------------------------------//
// Chapter 03 
// Story: The Broken Toy 
// by DarkKnight_RUS 
//------------------------------//






Next morning Vic woke up earlу. With quiet admiration, he watched the sleeping pony snore for some time, then he gave a few commands to the home appliances system and went for a shower. The kitchen came to life, delivery service switched on, manipulators whirred, putting fresh bread in the toaster. Vic didn’t hear any of it. He knew that when he was done showering, his breakfast would be waiting for him with a cup of strong, hot coffee.

Just like always.

The man looked in the mirror and winked to his reflection. What a wishy-washy, generically-handsome human face, he thought. Still even has a touch of baby fat in the cheeks.

There is something different about my face today though. Victor leaned close to a looking-glass and thoroughly examined his reflection. Oh, it’s a smile. Even the eyes are sparkling with joy. Those grey eyes are my father’s legacy, and proud members of the Stewart family don’t do smiley things with their eyes. What an utterly unnatural expression! I know where it comes from. Friendship and happiness, the plague of Equestria. Now I’m infected too!

It felt like a piece of Equestria painted the world with startling, majestic colors. And how dull and uneventful his past life seemed to be, when a mint-colored furball was dreaming peacefully on the couch. 

The feeling of water streaking down his body and the pleasant thoughts of spending the whole day in Lyra’s company drove Vic to hum a merry tune, right till he was cut short by the sound of the opening door. 

Dressed in a tunic, the pony entered the bathroom, yawning sweetly. 

“Lyra?!” Vic exclaimed and tried desperately and unsuccessfully to become invisible.

“Yep, that's me,” the unicorn replied sleepily. Her horn glowed for a second, and water poured into a sink. ”Good m'rning. Do you have a spare toothbrush?”

“Lyra, I’m taking a shower here!” Victor stated with some amount of self-control. The pony remained impassive.

“Mhm? Oh, yes, I can see that.” She scooped some water with her small hooves and splashed it in her face. “You are not bothering me, I don’t need the shower right now. Keep up the good work!”

It’s peculiar how the point of view affects one’s perception of a pony trying to wash her muzzle with her hooves, Victor thought absentmindedly. She would look painfully cute if I weren’t standing naked in a shower cabin. Does it make shower cabins universally bad points of view?

“Lyra, do you remember what I told you about clothes?” he asked, trying to reach a towel.

“Yes, I do. Don’t trot around naked,” the unicorn said, studying Victor with an impish smile. “Well well, who’s clothed now, huh? What an uncouth human! Taking a shower without his jacket on. Tee-hee-hee!”

“It’s impolite to observe someone’s nudity, Lyra…” the man said. The unicorn looked surprised for a moment, then her smile grew wider. The impish sparks in her eyes blazed into a wildfire.

“Oh, boy. Just don’t ask me why,” Victor pleaded.

“But yesterday you watched naked ponies on your screen all day long.” Lyra dealt a final, masterful blow, squinting with delight. 

“Oh, boy. Can you just… just leave both the matter and the bathroom for a minute, please?” Victor facepalmed in desperation.

He heard the sound of the door closing and took a deep breath. A small green troll has been unleashed and is ready to bring doom to all bathrooms in the world. It seems the old versions of “EQ” pony software didn’t have the human etiquette installed. And who thought living with a magical unicorn would be an easy job, eh?

Meanwhile, Lyra seemed to be calm and content. She wasn’t too horrified by the mentions of human aggression and wars in Earth history earlier, and she showed no symptoms of software glitches. Of course the popular science kid’s programs she watched provided few details, and Lyra was probably still too happy to be in the world of her dreams. I’ll just have to keep it up for the rest of my life, and everything will be just fine, Vic thought, grabbing a bath towel.

“Vic! Your bed just folded on its own and caught my tail!” came a cry of panic from his bedroom. “Vi-ic! It’s pulling me in now! I think it’s hungry, Vi-i-iic!!! YOU WON’T GET ME THAT EASY, YOU... FURNITURE!!”

Uncertain if he should laugh or groan, Victor dropped the towel, threw a bathrobe on and dashed to the rescue.

* * *

Somehow, Lyra had managed to activate Vic’s automatic bed-folding sequence while sitting on the bed. Her tail was stuck between the folding modules, and Vic had to save the pony from the clutches of the mechanized furniture as the laughing embodiment of chivalry in a white bathrobe.

“Actually, you didn’t need help, Lyra. Everything here is voice-controlled, don’t you remember?” he reminded the unicorn as they finished handling the furniture crisis and went for breakfast.

“Whoopsies, I panicked and forgot. Sorry… Am I a nuisance?” the unicorn stooped with embarrassment.

“What? Of course you aren’t!” the man replied. “Take a seat please. Here, this is your meal. I guess the kitchen made some toast with jam for you.”

Lyra attacked her toast with savage brutality and predatory efficiency. Victor took his sandwiches and coffee. They ate in silence for some time, interrupted only by Lyra’s occasional purrs of delight.

“Whatcha eatin’?” the unicorn suddenly asked. She apparently noticed the difference between their meals.

“Meh, it’s just a sandwich,” Vic answered nonchalantly.

“May I?..” she asked, her voice filled  with curiosity. Before Vic could answer, one of his sandwiches glowed green as the mare levitated it to her mouth. She took a bite, chewed with scientific meticulousness and calculation, and swallowed. The man choked.

“Not bad, not bad!” the unicorn nodded approvingly. “You should’ve offered me a sample of human food earlier.”

“That...  can’t be good for a pony’s diet,” Vic wheezed. 

“Yeah, obviously! If some food is delicious, it just has to be unhealthy.” Lyra giggled.

Oh, she makes that pawky eyes expression again.

“What kind of a terrible poison could be there?” the mare asked as she cheerfully bit into the sandwich again. “Ah, an olive! Noice!”

Uh, “noice” indeed. Vic examined his sandwich, hoping his eyes would refute what his tongue had told him. “Oh, for Derpy’s sake, Lyra, the kitchen put salami in there!”

“Sounds good. What’s salami?” Lyra asked, her mouth full. Vic hesitated for a moment. Yes, do tell an equine what salami is, pal.

“It’s a meat product,” he responded diplomatically.

The mare’s eyes opened wide. Very, very wide. Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Oh, boy, here we go. Slowly she stopped chewing.

“Whose meat?” Lyra asked in a tiny, strangled voice.

“Pigs’ probably?” Vic ventured. “Artificial of course. Humans haven’t consumed real meat for a long…”

The stool fell to the floor. Vic’s words were addressed to the unicorn’s tail, as the mare whirled away in unsteady dashes. Moments later the man heard a very distinctive puking sound from the bathroom’s general direction.

Oh, boy, now you’ve done it, you managed to poison the little pony. How do the Grey City dwellers put it? Kick me sideways?

He jumped up from the table, searched for a medikit, activated an emergency medical module, then turned it off. Too early!

Where is that manual? What did it say about pony synthets diet? Vegetables, hay and special Flowery Friendship Pellets® for only 249.99? Pastries with high amounts of sugar?

“Sugar is a pony’s general source of energy, vast amounts could be consumed with no harm to a synthet’s health,” Vic quoted by memory. He realised he was pacing around the kitchen.

She definitely shouldn’t eat meat! Why haven’t the software safety protocols kicked in? Someone ought to have foreseen the possibility of accidents such as this! Were there any food-related safety protocols in version 3 firmware at all?

When Lyra came back he was just about to dial the OBE tech support number. The unicorn slowly stepped into the kitchen, her yellow eyes full of silent reproach. Droplets of water were falling from the wet fur on her face to the floor.

“How are you?” Vic asked with a nervous smile. He was worried sick. Some misplaced thoughts about how funny and cute the dishevelled pony looked were passing through the back of his mind.

“Everything is... fine,” Lyra said expressionlessly. “I just felt sick when I realized I ate some... someone.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Vic said with relief, then coughed awkwardly. Now you must explain it to her. You should‘ve done it earlier, pal.

“In our world no animal is sapient. Cows, pigs and others, they all are, well, mindless,” he began.

The pony put the stool back in its place and slowly set down to the table, her eyes lowered. A cup of tea floated up and touched her lips.

“Would you eat a mindless human? How would you feel if somepony devoured one in front of you?” she asked in a quiet, monotonous voice and suddenly raised her eyes to face Vic with a piercing glare.

“Humans have produced artificial meat for generations. What I ate has never been even remotely sentient, it was just tissue grown in a vat-tank!” Victor felt embarrassed, as if he did something wrong and had to explain himself, while, objectively, it was uncalled for.

“It is disgusting anyway!” Lyra tried to raise her cracking voice.

“Lyra, please understand, humans are omnivores. We need animal proteins to survive… probably. Well, we definitely can’t get by just on fruit and cupcakes! Ponies associate with griffins in Equestria, and griffins are hunters, aren’t they?” the man argued.

The little pony opened her mouth to say something and stopped.

“Yes...” she whispered.

The mysterious griffin kingdom wasn’t Equestria’s staunchest ally, but as far as Lyra knew, the Princesses were doing a lot to bridge the gap between the two nations. While Lyra had no real knowledge about the culinary preferences of the proud catbirds, she had heard some very believable rumors about their hunts. Still, she never considered griffins savage monsters.

“I was unfair to humans,” she said quietly, then paused and gave Victor a weak smile. “It was hypocritical of me to apply Equestrian morals to Earth. To judge you as if you were a pony. But I just felt so... betrayed. I adore mankind, you know, I probably idolize...”

She failed to finish the sentence and looked into Vic’s eyes helplessly. He let himself relax just a bit. It seems Lyra’s behavioral program copes with stress relatively well and is stable for now, but I shouldn’t expose Lyra to such stressful situations it the future. I knew I must isolate her from some aspects of human life and history for as long as it possible, but I never thought about her possible reactions to a simple meal!

“I understand your feelings. We, humans, aren’t perfect. We eat meat and… ahem… fight sometimes,” Vic admitted. “Do you feel better?”

“Um… Yes, I guess.” Lyra reluctantly reached for a slice of toast. “I was just shocked. I guess I panicked. Neuro-psycho-something-something reaction.”

Well, that settles it for good. Time to change the topic.

“How about some human music after breakfast?” the man asked. “I’d love for you to listen to a couple of tunes.”

The pony quickly swallowed the piece of toast she was munching.

“Sounds tempting!” she replied. “What instrument do you play?”

“None actually. To play the best pieces one would need a band or even a whole orchestra. But I have lots of records.”

“You know how to intrigue a mare.” Lyra smiled.



* * *

In a moment Victor’s apartment was filled with the roar of powerful bass and heavy drum rhythms. Lyra wished to hear the best, after all. What can be better than the undying classics of heavy metal and some modern stuff, that accompanied me on my journeys through Virtuality?

On screen, dark figures flounced about in strobe lights. They were covered in spiked leather and armed with bladed musical instruments. The drum kit shuddered under the mighty hits of a green orc, while a winged person with the head of a bird was striking power chords on the electric guitar with his talons.

Without additional information one couldn’t tell if they were synthets or modified humans: these days any willing and solvent person could rebuild their body almost completely, far beyond recognition.

Modificants quickly met the consequences of their choice to upgrade their bodies; they usually came in the form of revocation of some civil rights and the contemptuous nickname of “genofreak” heard behind the modificants’ backs and from the screens of mass media.

Victor had enjoyed heavy music since he was a teenager. The musical thunder produced by the mercilessly mauled instruments made adrenaline fill his bloodstream and grim thoughts flee from his mind.

But no sooner had the music shook the apartment walls, than Victor noticed Lyra’s mint-green ears droop, and her muzzle take on an expression of sudden searing pain. 

Victor lowered the volume and asked, “Are you alright?”

“N-no... It sounds like the music the teenage griffin bands play. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, what with meat and all”, Lyra answered, abashed. 

“Too loud? Should I quieten it down?”

“Y-yes, please. It’s so heavy my ears hurt. And do humans have calmer music?”

Victor mentally slapped himself on his forehead. He smiled and said, “Sure! We’ve got a lot of classical pieces, for instance. Like the ones performed by Oct... oh, fiddlesticks whatwashername... Octavia Melody.”

Lyra perked up her ears. “Oh, sounds great!” The unicorn smiled. “I’ve always loved her recitals.”

Victor turned the music center off and said, “You know, we could listen to classical music at home... or we could go to the opera house instead.”

Her yellow eyes lit up. Victor noticed he was on the right track and decided to press on. 

“Do you remember that science program about the old Megapolis-Opera in New York? See, the new opera house was built after it here. Let me check what’s on today.”

“Deal!”

“Dress up then. We’re going to the opera!”

Beaming enthusiastically, Lyra pranced away to doll herself up. Meanwhile, Vic ordered the tickets via the CyberNet. It turned out there were some plays staged during the day, and Vic and Lyra could just make it to one.

I guess it’d be too much to ask for her to share my musical tastes. On the other hand, I don’t mind listening to classical music at all from time to time. Not its modern version at least. 

Wait a minute, Vic caught himself thinking. This is going to be her, no, our first public appearance together. I wonder if synthets are allowed into Gigapolis Opera at all. Let’s see... Alright, here it is. Oh, shucks, all synthets are required to pay an entry fee in addition to the ticket price.

Not willing to catch side-long glances of the opera patrons, Vic ordered a box just for the two of them. 

Victor was about to call Lyra when the pony herself entered the study. 

To say she looked gorgeous would be a massive understatement. 

She wore a sequin gown and exquisitely designed Hasbro shoes, a decorative saddle embroidered with golden tracery, and an elegant band to hold her elaborate mane-do. How she managed to do that while Vic was ordering tickets was beyond him. Unicorns and their magic.

“So, how do I look?”, Lyra asked, striking a coquettish pose and fluttering her eyelashes. 

Victor caught his jaw dropping and hastily set it back in its place. 

“You look impeccable! Just perfect for the walk down the aisle. White becomes you so well.“

The pony lowered her gaze and blushed coyly. “I… am ready then!”

* * *

The hovercar had Lyra completely enraptured. It was a tear-shaped car with two thrusters on the sides, a not-too-old Jaguar S70. They closed the cockpit canopy and started moving, and the panoramic view of the city district had Lyra glued to the window.

The European Gigapolis Opera made a lasting impression on the pony. Like a mountain glistening in the daylight sun, the enormous castle made of glass, ultradense steel and holographic projections rose in the middle of a vast park. Though the interior design of the opera house was done in accordance with the undying classics, the architects really outdid themselves with the exterior. The fluid curves and angles, and the glinting surface of the building gave it the look of a sci-fi spaceship visiting from far far away. And just look at the turrets. I’m sure they have a lot of hidden holographic projectors to light it all up. The twinkling lights dancing on the walls look simply majestic.

Hovercars circled around the parking area, landing only to let the passengers out before taking to the air again. Vic also steered his car to the landing pads and gallantly offered his hand to Lyra. She acknowledged the gesture like a true Canterlot filly and exited the vehicle leaning on Vic’s hand. Her yellow eyes blazed with excitement. It was one thing to watch the colossal structure via the visor, but something completely different to gaze upon it with her very eyes. 

Smartly dressed patrons mingled around, forming a loud motley crowd of traditional culture connoisseurs.

Lyra turned her head every which way, nothing escaping her astonished gaze. Victor watched his surroundings as well, albeit for a different reason. He wanted to be the first to catch the disapproving glances of the patrons eyeballing the pony who clopped merrily down the path with him. Luckily, no one seems to pay us any attention.

Vic even noticed a lady in a luxurious dress accompanied by an elf with stereotypical pointy ears, and a richly dressed young man walked arm in arm with a blue-skinned girl, who had tentacles sprouting from the back of her head. Both could very well be modificants, but as far as Vic knew, the movement hadn’t gained a foothold in the White City.

Frankly, I’d feel so relieved now if there were a pony synthet around. An Octavia, at least. Alas, synthets are few and far between here today. And if there are more than the handful I’ve seen, they’re all humanoid, totally indistinguishable from real people.

A stately old porter passed a scanner over Lyra’s head at the entrance. It showed a blue signal and short information about the synthet owner.  

“She’s with me”, said Victor.

The porter cast the pony a disapproving glance, but she didn’t flinch. She made a curtsy with her front hooves and said, “Good day to you, sir.”

The porter’s look became surprised for a moment, but then he regained his focus. No one has ever called him ‘sir’? Vic thought.

The old man handed Vic his tickets. Although all the tickets were ordered via the VR, it was traditional for cultural facilities to copy them on paper, or fiber polymer, to be exact. One couldn’t tell the difference between the two, at least not by touch.

“Victor Stuart and...errm.. Lyra Heartstrings? A box for two, sir?”

“Yes, that’ll be us”, Vic said. “Thank you… sir.”

They passed through crowded corridors that would do any palace justice with their golden workmanship, sumptuous draperies, and paintings depicting the scenes of the undying classical works.

To his shame, Vic recognized almost none of them and hoped dearly Lyra wouldn’t ask questions. But she was too excited about the performance that was about to start. 

Victor calmed down when they settled down in comfy chairs in their box. No one said anything about a man bringing a mare to the opera, so I guess everything went well.

"It's very beautiful", Lyra said, copying the human sitting pose and looking around. "It looks even grander than the Royal Canterlot Opera! Actually, the whole Royal Canterlot Opera could fit in a corner here."

"Indeed, it was a project of colossal scale!" Vic nodded, feeling a wave of somewhat unmerited pride for mankind's achievements. "This hall was designed to accommodate ten thousand people, without deviating from classical opera halls’ designs."

"It certainly follows some canons," Lyra said. "Reminds me of home. Not Ponyville where I moved, but, you know, Canterlot. Everything is so big, ceremonious, solemn..."

"Yes, I think it's grandiose too!" Victor smiled.

"...It makes me feel so small," she finished.

Victor laughed. He wanted to pat the unicorn on her head but stopped himself. That hairdo is a masterpiece; it would be a crime against fashion to ruin it.

"But you are small!" he said lightly, "A little pony on a brave journey of exploration and discovery of the enormous human world!"

Lyra snickered, raising her hoof to cover her muzzle.

"Are we in a royal box, Vic?" she asked after a short pause. "There are only two of these sumptuous chairs here and they look worthy of a princess. Come on, you can bury an average- sized human in all this silk velvet!"

"Um, no, this is not a royal box, Lyra. I'm afraid, it’s is just a regular VIP box," Victor replied, feeling embarrassed for his poverty.

"Then what, for Luna's sake, does royal box look like?" Lyra gasped.

"Well, there are no royal boxes. Earth hasn’t had royalty for the last century," the man explained. "But there are diamond VIP boxes over there."

Lyra stretched her neck to look at the specified direction and saw a couple dozen richly dressed patrons. They were evidently bored waiting for the performance to begin, looking around or engaging in small talk with their companions. Lyra met eyes with a beautiful lady with an antique fan. Suddenly, an expression of disdain flashed on the woman's perfect face, and something cold and menacing appeared in her eyes under her long eyelashes. A moment later the lady turned away, and fluttered her fan, concealing her face from the unicorn's sight.

Lyra, feeling ill at ease, looked aside. She saw an anthropomorphic mouse in an elegant tuxedo as he entered his diamond VIP box and sat down into a chair. Two mountain-sized guards with square jaws and butch haircuts stepped in behind him. The guards wore sunglasses in the half-dark hall. Are those goggles magical? Lyra guessed. Tuxedos are a bad fit for those guys. I bet something military would suit them much better.

The mouse looked strange. He had smooth round ears, a goofy muzzle… He looked cute but Lyra thought the look in his huge eyes was all but bereft of kindness. 

The mouse met the pony’s gaze, but, unlike the lady before, smiled gently and inclined his head courteously, then resumed watching the stage. He seemed to say something, probably addressing his bodyguards, but Lyra didn’t catch it from such a distance. 

Lyra was about to ask Victor about him, but, accompanied by a growing wave of applause, the lights dimmed and the opera began. 

That day the European Gigapolis Opera put on Aida, an opera immortalized as a classic centuries ago. Naturally, time left its stamp on the performance, but any changes in acting or lyrics would irredeemably knock the opera off the pedestal of classics to the bottomless pit that is widely recognized as avant-garde and contemporary culture. The only things tolerated by the incisive critics were the moderate use of special effects like weather effects, and the use of holographic subtitles sparkling above the unfolding act. Traditionally, the opera was performed in Italian, a language spoken only in the southern districts and subdistricts of the European Gigapolis... 

Lyra sat still for a few minutes, then leaned closer to Vic's ear. "Their costumes and whole scene props remind me of Camelia!" she whispered loudly.

Victor strained his memory to recall the camel country from the show. "Been there?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm just educated," she replied. "But such similarities... quite remarkable! Well, it looks more like ancient Camelia. With the zebra tribes and stuff, ya know."

Lyra watched and listened to the ageless story of love and betrayal with deep interest. Vic gave her a few stealthy glances to make sure she liked it, and was delighted to see her fully absorbed by the unfolding act. "This pony likes music" they say. "Let her listen to the music" they say. It seems that statement has more nuance behind it than I anticipated.

The first act ended, lights came up and viewers slowly dispersed to bars, cafeterias and viewing galleries. Without any delay Lyra started to share her impressions with Vic. He listened to her merry twitter with half an ear, deep in thought. That's amazing. She acts so natural, like a real girl from outside the White City would act in these circumstances. Probably. Not that I've met a lot of provincial girls in operas.

"...A-and you are definitely not listening to what I'm saying. You didn't hear a single word, now, did you!" the unicorn exclaimed, offense in her tone.

Victor's face immediately lost its dreamy expression. "Cafeteria!" he announced in frantic attempt to use the environment for his own salvation.

"Masterful rhetoric won't get you out of this one, mister human," Lyra gave the man a sharp glance, then pouted and trotted ahead. "I'm not the one to fall for such... CUPCAKES!!"

With all pique forgotten and all slights forgiven in an instant, the unicorn almost galloped to the brightly lit cafeteria showcases. She greeted the sweet abundance inside with a happy smile.

There were no queues around the counter, thanks to the well organized squad of swift cafeteria employees. Victor told the unicorn she might choose everything she wanted, and that was all the encouragement required for her to fill the order with a long list of candies, cakes and ice-cream flavors. Following all Lyra's whims, Victor bought a heap of sweets and went to a table. He could not help smiling.

The pony applied all her willpower to keep her discreet ladylike appearance, but the moment they set to table, pastry plates started emptying at a terrifying rate.

They say vegetarian synthets use sugar as an energy source to power-up their nervous system and energy-intensive organs, like horns and wings. But look at her, she isn't recharging, she's just got a huge sweet-tooth.

A casual look at a nearby table made Vic start. Some lady, her face contorted with disdain, was telling something to her gentleman companion in an angry whisper. She was pointing in Victor and Lyra's general direction and was giving them a contemptuous look. The man sluggishly waved her off and sipped his whiskey. When Lyra giggled, he slightly distorted and gave the mare a short sideways glance.

Lyra's cheerful chatter stopped. Vic looked at her and met her serious eyes. She wasn't eating and she definitely wasn't smiling. He failed to read her expression. Damn, she's obviously followed my look and noticed that bloody couple.

Someone who could pass for a beautiful young lady at first glance walked by their table. Her slender figure was wrapped in artistically shaped layers of clothes made of something strongly resembling natural fur. Lyra looked at her and choked. The young looking person gave them the cold stare of an evil old witch.

Hello there, you too-rich-to-die rejuvenated one. Vic thought. Their appearances and tastes can sometimes be a tad extreme for someone who never saw a really old rejuvenated person before. Lyra was probably scared. She'll get used to it. Half the people here at the Spires are so old they wouldn't last a bloody day without a swarm of nanomachines. Well, who am I to criticize? My grandpa is what, hundred and fifty or more? Who knows how old our patriarch really is.

At that, their spirits faded. Well, that wasn’t unexpected.

“Do you remember I told you the opera house reminded me of Canterlot?”, the unicorn asked. Victor nodded.

“Guess why I took off.”

Vic gave the patrons at the nearest table a sidelong glance. It didn’t seem anyone was eyeing the couple right now, but the man couldn’t help feeling a piercing gaze at the back of his head. Many people did not have a fondness for synthets, and although such thoughts were not something to bring up in a civilized conversation, the general coldness towards synthets still hung in the air. It was no more than a whisper, or a fleeting look, a cold air breeze...

“Because one cannot be different... be themselves there, I suppose”, the man suggested and sipped some tea. A lonely half-eaten piece of cake lay on the saucer, and a spiral pyramid of ice cream melted slowly near it. 

“Mmhm.” The pony nodded, looking in the distance. “Let’s leave.” 

“And what about the treats?” Vic said with a stiff smile, looking over the table. “They’ll be thrown away. What a waste of perfectly good pastries.”

The unicorn forced the same smile and then said, “You know what? Let’s leave altogether and take all the shortcakes with us.”

“...And let them be ashamed of themselves!” Victor picked up the unicorn’s tone, feeling like a rebellious teenager being naughty to spite the lame grownups. 

During their walk to the hovercar parking lot, Lyra couldn’t stop giggling, levitating a bag of shortcakes with her. The couple pushed and shoved each other merrily as they went, fooling around like children. 

Suddenly, Vic realized he couldn’t behave like that with anybody he knew. It was like returning to his carefree childhood, when he could play and fool around just because he felt like it. Looking back, his past loneliness seemed so horrifying he felt a chilly sensation pass through his back. 

Lyra’s thoughts were quite similar, but the looks some people were giving her, scared her. Those eyes were full of contempt and even hatred. But the most terrifying were the young faces with old eyes, imbued with such frigidity and ice, their look seemed almost palpable. Or was it just my imagination?

A child’s ghost story about Slender Pony and the shriveled souls from the depths of the Everfree Forest sprang in her mind. 

But that night the fears parted before the unbridled merriment and mutual trust, and, who knows, perhaps even the beginning of a true friendship between a human and a pony…