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// Prologue 
// Story: Digitized 
// by OfficialDerp 
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There are generations that are smarter than others. There are generations that are cleverer than others. There are generations that are more imaginative than others. Ponies from these generations make new things. They have new ideas. They are new ponies.

These new ponies make things like technology. Technology is new. Most ponies don’t know about technology. They know magic, flying, and other natural things. They don’t know pixels. They don’t know data. They don’t know how a computer works. They don’t even know what a computer is.

This story does not follow the progression of an idea. It does not follow the progression of the technology itself. It does not follow the brilliant mind that made the machine, nor any of the ponies who helped. This story follows the poor soul who had the bad luck to have the number 4894736 called out from a randomizer in an industrial dining room on a clear, bright Thursday night. She didn’t know it was bad at the time. In fact, her workmates patted her on the back and congratulated her for her good luck.

How wrong they were.