> The Broken Toy
>  by DarkKnight_RUS
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------






The end of the 21st century was quite eventful for mankind. Cascades of local conflicts that together could be considered as one world war, economic crises, environmental disasters, mutated viruses, and other blessings of civilized society reaped billions of lives.

It also brought a technological breakthrough in developed countries, where blase citizens, unwilling to leave the cozy nests of their prosperous cities, preferred to close their eyes to everything that happened beyond their technological heavens.

Many believe that one of mankind’s greatest achievements of the era was the invention of synthets. Many names were given to them: “bio robots”, “synthetic organisms”, “artificial beings”, but “synthets” was the catchy commercial sobriquet.

The point remains: humans learned how to create artificial living beings and to shape them with almost no limitations.

At first, it was thought they would work miracles like ending world hunger. Growing artificial quasi-animals, basically living blobs of meat, seemed to be the obvious solution, but the expense of growing them vastly outweighed their nutritional value. Synthesis of proteins turned out to be a much simpler task than synthesis of protein lifeforms and eliminated the need to kill those lifeforms.

Synthetic body parts that could be built to any specification brought a revolution in medicine, but only for those who could pay for them— and pay a lot.

Artificial humans with the DNA of great scientists, artists, warriors, and athletes never became great themselves.

The breeding of extinct and legendary creatures didn’t show any prospects. Synthets were either infertile or produced weak, hopelessly mutated offspring. The great mystery of life still kept its secrets. And so artificial children never became popular.

At some zoos and parks one could meet mammoth, saber-toothed tiger, tyrannosaurus, diplodocus, dragon, or chimera. But all that was already available in Virtuality, and live beasts in cages couldn’t hold a candle to the spectacle of interactive virtual monsters.

But still, business did not perish.

One enterprising lawyer, Mr. Richard Owens, found that, legally, every synthet was exactly what was stated in its technical certificate: “synthetic bio-product”.

Such "product" could mean no more than a piece of meat from a nearby mall, even if it looked like a human and could talk.

The bureaucratic machinery of international law failed to react in time. New business flourished. Philistines, wearied of dreams of Virtuality; businessmen, seeking a pliant workforce; armies, searching for perfect soldiers — everyone appreciated the innovation.

Of course there were protests against the “neo-slavery”. Of course they were ignored. With huge amounts of money at stake, ethical values could be swiftly shifted to the background.

The entertainment industry gained a whole new trend, where EVERYTHING was possible.

Want to hunt some “real monsters”? Make barbeque of dinosaur, dragon, or even human you killed? Grab your gun and have some fun!

Or maybe you want to feel like a Roman patrician and stuff your house with obedient living slaves? Or arrange a gladiator arena with fights to the death? Or train your own dragon to ride?

Do you want the girlfriend of your dreams? Or maybe a boyfriend? Your own character from a movie, a video game, or the pages of the book? Voila! Just describe the appearance and character traits.

Everything is possible. No problems. Just pay.

There could be some hitches with characters played by real persons. Most of the actors or their right-holding successors opposed the possibility of cloning their images. After a series of lawsuits, Mr. Owens’s growing company made concessions and stopped copying real persons. Until the legal problems were solved, anyway. But by then the craze for celebrity doppelgangers had already faded into the past.

It had been a long time since anyone would give a second glance to a dinosaur-drawn carriage riding down the street, driven by an elven coachman. Or to a dragon with a palanquin on its back, flying through the traffic of airmobiles.

There were even restaurants and hotels where all staff was property of the owners.

Soldiers needed no pensions, insurance, or wages anymore, only orders and basic maintenance.

Dwarves and goblins, “aliens” and “superheroes” appeared on the city streets. People tattooed with brand logos. People that had no real parents. People that were not considered humans by the law.

And characters from old TV shows have found flesh and blood... and masters.
> Chapter 01
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





Victor Stewart stood before a small building. Holographic projectors gave it the appearance of a medieval castle, though it was looking… childish, somehow, with its rounded corners, bright colors and oversized ornamental plasterwork. Still, the holograms were quite high-grade: one couldn’t tell the illusions from the real decorations without taking a closer look. 

A holographic banner that read ‘Solaire Club’ and adorned with a stylized image of the sun on a rainbow field swayed over the entrance.

A high carved tower with a bright light on top loomed over the structure. One would notice its somewhat ghostly appearance: the tower was yet another holographic illusion.

Vic once again rechecked the address that a gamine lass from a virtual site had given to him. Apparently, it was here. Do you really need this date IRL, pal? he asked himself again. In Virtuality she was a lovely girl with a huge bush of rebellious curls on her head, so cheerful and sincere, at first Vic couldn't help doubting her identity. To think that someone could be so open and straightforward to another – to a stranger, no less – without asking anything in return was something bordering on fantasy in the modern world. It was just too good to be true and, probably, she would turn out to be some old hag, a romantic child, or a fat pervert.

But, too tired of staying in his apartment with only walls to stare back at him, Victor decided to take his chances. After all, he didn’t promise anything. One would hardly even call it a date. Just a friendly meeting to share a cup of coffee and have a look at each other, nothing more. 

Victor had been wandering Virtuality dying of boredom back then. The Cybercity, a grotesque copy of the European Gigapolis in the realm of digital reveries, teemed with all kinds of pleasures. But the thing was, Vic had got tired of indulging his base desires back in high school. The thrill of it dulled down, and reality seemed sickeningly grey and uninviting. The negligence or sugary pretence of people around, the estrangement of relatives, and the lack of friends made matters even worse.

Every day Victor felt an overwhelming, all-absorbing sense of loneliness. It even came to him entering a virtual brothel and spending all the paid time just talking. Young ladies there stayed professional and listened stoically, although sometimes Vic suspected they were scripting their avatars to nod and agree and leaving during his monologues. 

And so it went, until he met her.

In cyberspace Vic’s avatar was faceless and nonchalant; the most dependable mask. But his new peer seemed to see through him. And her cheerful chatter, banter, and infectious laughter stirred something inside Vic.

Therefore, when invited to meet in person, he agreed, and not with the ritual “Okay, maybe later,” but with genuine interest, an obligation to honor.

There’s no mask to hide behind when confronted face to face. At least, not literally. 

He belatedly thought they probably should have shared photos, though in his opinion there was nothing extraordinary about his appearance: blond hair, grey eyes, proper features, everything typical for a citizen of the upper city levels. All congenital malformations were strictly inhibited: the legacies of past wars, epidemics and mangled ecology were not to be ignored. And although the contemporaries of those glorious events could hope to escape the worst of the consequences, their descendants would be plagued by the radiation and weaponized viruses for generations to come.

Vic approached the entrance. The monitoring system buzzed and fizzled with its camera to match the entrant’s identity with their personal chip ID, and heavy doors, concealed to look like oaken planks, silently opened outwards.

He passed a short entryway furnished with sofas and found himself in an unlit main hall that looked empty and abandoned. Some vague forms loomed in the darkness, and once again Vic thought he got the wrong place.

“SURPRISE!” a choir of voices boomed, making Victor jump in bewilderment. 

The lights came on, and a long table, laden with treats for a tea party, spread before his eyes. He also saw a few dozen smiling people and... ponies. Not ordinary ponies, but synthets, the characters of an ancient TV show that had been rebranded and revived years before. 

Ponies about three feet tall that looked a bit like grotesque bobble-headed parodies of the actual animals, wore clothes, and acted just like humans, only not bipedal.

Those talking technicolor horses had swarmed the Cybernet of late, and, frankly, got on Vic’s nerves: the screaming colors, the cloyingly rosy fairy-tale for kids, and the adults for some reason so obsessed with it they followed their perverted desires and bought synthetic ponies. Vic was aware all too well where such relationships could lead.

The club filled with the merry sounds of chatter, clopping of hooves and music. Some ponies, he saw, could fly on short wings. And those horned ones seemed to wield telekinesis – Vic saw a glass of punch fly on its own to the mouth of a white pony with a well-done purple mane that strangely reminded him of an elaborate female coiffure.

Why the girl would make a date in a such place was completely unclear.

Vic ruminated over these matters while being dragged to the table and treated with punch and a huge piece of cake. He automatically acknowledged a cascade of greetings from both humans and ponies, without paying them any real attention.

“I’m deeply grateful,” he said meekly under the stares of dozens of eyes, “but I think I probably got the wrong address…”

“You’ve been invited by Pinkie, haven’t ya?” asked a plump man wearing simple jeans and a T-shirt with a silhouette of a winged pony.

Somehow Vic felt a deep sense of relief: at least it was the right place. “Right, by Pinkie,” he replied. “We have appointed a date over the Cybernet.”

“Serge Troyanovsky.” The man offered his hand, and Viс shook it hesitantly. “Chairman.”


“Victor Stewart, but it seems you already know,” Vic replied. “May I see Pinkie?”

The man laughed heartily, as if Vic just told a witty joke.

“Which one?” he asked, then sipped his punch.

I never realized “Pinkie” is such a common name, Vic thought. “Pinkie Pie McGee,” he clarified aloud.

“Sure! There she is.” Mr. Troyanovsky pointed at a group of humans and equines playing Twister. It seemed the heap of bodies had almost reached critical mass.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Over there, trying to reach the... Okay, no matter. Pinks! McGee!! Can ya stop hooping around and come here, please?!” the man yelled.

Vic didn't believe his eyes when a pink pony deftly wriggled itself out from a pile of tangled bodies and approached their table with a bounce in its step. It had familiar features that made Vic’s heart skip a beat: an unruly cloud of pink hair and the symbol of three balloons. Vic had already seen the same emblem in Virtuality on one very pink dress, and now it was placed on a white T-shirt and tight green shorts. A poofy pink tail, sticking out from shorts, looked like a strange addition to the hairdo. Then Vic saw a familiar mischievous sparkle in huge blue eyes.

“Hi, Vic!” exclaimed Pinkie with a familiar squeaky voice, jumping on the couch between Victor and Serge, who was chuckling at his plate. “I finally get to see your face!”

She laughed delightedly, covering her muzzle with a hoof. Vic noticed a crown-shaped blue hoop lying askew on her exuberant curls. But where there should have been a jewel or a symbol of power, he instead saw a laughing smiley face.

Struck to the core, Victor merely managed to ask:

“Pinkie… is it really you?”

“Of course it’s me, silly!”

“But I... ”

“Didn’t think I’m a pony?” Pinkie laughed merrily, then somehow scooped up a handful of candies from a bowl with her hoof and shoved them all in her mouth at once. “You’re so funny! You could’ve guessed if you saw the show!”

“But it is…” Vic mumbled. “But I...”

The pony interrupted him and started jabbering just like in VR.

“You haven’t seen it? Oh, it’s okay! When we met, you seemed so sad, I could see it by your avatar! And when I saw you, I went AAAHH and realized you needed help stat! You didn’t smile, you were sad, you didn’t even have a mouth to smile. It’s very-very sad when no one smiles. It means I simply must throw a party ASAP to make everyone smile and solve the problem!” Suddenly, the pony narrowed her eyes, and, her voice filled with determination, finished, “Pinkie Pie style!”

Victor, who was deeply stricken by sudden reveal of Pinkie’s true nature, didn’t know how to act. On the one hand, he didn’t doubt her identity anymore: her manner of speech and sugar-rush level of hyperactive happiness were all too recognisable from VR. On the other, he came to the club for a date. A real one. But the pink ray of light that painted his world bright and filled his days with kindness and joy turned up to be a synthet pony, a character from some stupid TV show.

Victor stayed at the hall for a while out of courtesy, and even took part in some games, but once Pinkie moved away to organize the pinata hunt, he seized the opportunity to get away from the crowd. He walked up a flight of stairs which inspired thoughts of kings in high palaces, and found himself at the middle of a wide balcony hanging over a street in one of the prosperous districts.

The trees planted along the street below whispered softly in the fading light. Wind brought in the sounds of slow footsteps and quiet conversations. Rare groundcars swished by the asphalt roadway. Somewhere a motorcycle roared and a siren howled – the music of the city night, unchanged for centuries, so unlike the eternal silence of the Spires.

So much for the first nice girl, Victor thought bitterly, leaning over the balustrade, Childish fantasy with hobby horses!

“... Steve, it’s about Fluttershy,” he heard a hoarse voice say.

Victor turned his head and spotted the figure of a fair-haired man at the opposite side of the balcony. The man seemed young, but what did appearance matter in the age of genetic engineering? He sported a mustache and goatee, and his long hair fell on the shoulders of the expensive-looking grey suit he wore over a light blue jumper.

His posture showed neither the swagger nor the fussiness of an inhabitant of the Spires come down to a common district of Greytown.

In front of the balcony, wings flapping, hovered a pegasus synthet black as night, with a cropped light mane, wearing a dark jacket and pants made of something reminiscent of riveted leather. But the weirdest thing about the pegasus was the long sheathed sword hanging from its neck. 

I wonder how he holds it in combat. With his teeth? Victor thought.

“How is she?” the man asked the pegasus.

“I worry about her,” the synthet replied. “After all she’s been through… I’m responsible for her now. And, you know, I guess I have feelings towards her...”

“Then why are you still here? Fly to her, dammit!”

The huge eyes of the pegasus widened.

“Right now? And this is your advice?”

“But of course.” The man nodded. “She’s scared and alone. And she has no one closer than you. When you are there for her, the past will dare not approach, ronin. You shouldn’t have left her alone. What was so urgent at the club that Snow and I couldn’t handle?”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, I’m such a moron!”

With that the pegasus dashed into the night.

“This is a long and confusing story. Though, I can tell it someday, if you wish” the man said, turning to Vic.

Victor averted his eyes sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it seems I’ve unwillingly overheard your conversation.”

The sound of quiet footsteps broke the silence as the man approached. Vic squinted at the offered hand and reluctantly shook it. 

“Steven Aguilar,” the man introduced himself. “Call me Steve.”

“Victor Stewart. Vic.”

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you new here?”

“I’ve come at the invitation of Pinkie McGee. And, frankly speaking, I was quite shocked to learn she is…” Victor paused mid-sentence and squinted at his new acquaintance.

Steven didn’t smile, but a spark of understanding flashed in his grey eyes. 

“... A pony?” he finished for Vic. “Yeah, that Pinkie came up with a great prank. She wears a mask of a girl in VR, and doubles her fun. You would never guess how many times she has been asked out on a date.”

Vic felt these words hit a raw nerve. He had hoped for a romantic evening, and all he got was a farce by a pink horse that mocked him to amuse itself.

“Came up with a prank?” he repeated bitterly. “Very funny. Enough to make a pony laugh.”

Steven frowned a little as he caught his companion’s gloomy mood.

“She bore no malice at heart,” he retorted, “and she never wished to hurt your feelings. Or do you just hate parties in general?”

“I must admit I never liked this sort of thing very much,” Vic shook his head.

“Well, yes, me too. But believe me when I say it, this place is much better than you think, and also much more... complex. Pinkie Pie was sincere when she spoke of friendship and fun. She doesn’t want anything from you, not your money and not a relationship. She just wants to help, and she really does help those who come and accept her... aid.”

Victor didn’t reply. All he wanted now was to leave this place. His disillusionment was slowly turning into deep frustration, and it felt like his heart was pumping black acid made of hurt and his deceived, shattered aspirations.

I should have known, he thought bitterly, no real person could be so humane.

“Well,” Steven said quietly, “Thunderlane’s left, my business here is done. It’s time for me to go too.” He advanced to the balcony exit and called, “Snowdrop, we are leaving!”

There was a rhythmic sound of clattering hooves that accompanied all the equines here if they didn’t wear any kind of slippers or soft socks. Vic turned in surprise to see a silver blue winged pony with a lily-white mane as it… she?... trotted towards Steven. Her small skirt and jacket were almost shining snow-white, and a few azure strands streaked her mane. A strange barrette like a flower of interwoven silver and crystal held her forelock.

Vic hadn’t noticed when she’d entered the balcony. Or maybe she had been there the whole time, silently blending in with the white marble wall in the shadows of night?

The pegasus turned to Victor and looked at him... no, through him... with the gaze of her light-blue, almost crystalline eyes. Then she looked up at Steven, and he squatted to face her as her lips moved and she whispered something. The man frowned and cast Victor a sidelong glance, then seemed to relax.

“Victor, Snowdrop says you’ve been lonely for a long time, and that’s why you took umbrage at Pinkie. You were looking for friendship, for a way to dispel your loneliness with a nice girl, but met a pony,” he said, rising.

The young man stared at the couple in bewilderment, his mind full of the wildest assumptions.

“You stalked me, didn’t you?” he finally asked.

“What? No!” Steven laughed. “My little Snow has extremely acute senses, though. She can feel much more than others see even though she lacks eyesight.”

“Stevie, I am a big pony!” objected the pegasus with obviously feigned pique.

The man just laughed again lightly and ruffled the pony’s mane, which looked like a soft dollop of ice cream.

“You’ll always remain a little filly for me,” he said affectionately.

“Her eyesight?... Wha?...” he mumbled, his thoughts a complete stuttering mess.

“She is blind, yes.” Steve nodded as he kept stroking Snowdrop’s sticking ears, while she just squinted with delight.

“Is she a telepath?” Victor finally squeezed out.

It was the pony who replied.

“I’m empathic.” Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid to produce a loud noise. But then, the sharp hearing explained that. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it, your emotions are just so... loud.”

Victor sighed. He’d never thought he could be read so easily, like an open book.

They act too playfully, just like lovers. There must be some unnatural relationship between them, Vic decided.

“Pardon me, Steve, but friendship with a pony looks… unhealthy. Or is it more than just friendship?” he managed to ask.

Victor expected an instant denial of the obvious. But Steve appeared to be deep in thought for a few seconds and kept stroking Snowdrop, who leaned against his leg. 

“You know what, I’d rather not elaborate,” he replied at last. “If you want to understand, just watch the show. I suggest you start with the hundred-and-fifty-year-old one. Spend some time on it, and maybe you’ll find the answers you’re looking for.”

“Is it even worth it?” Victor asked.

Snowdrop lifted up her unseeing eyes, and Steven smiled, although the pony would never see it.

“Oh yes… ” he replied. “Absolutely.”

“But heed my warning, Mr. Stewart,” Snowdrop added, her voice dead serious. “As you value your life or your reason, keep away from G3.”

> Chapter 02
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------






The User Manual was creatively entitled:


‘My Little Pony’ © Hasbro.
Sapient Educable Synthet model OBE 01106-18-49
‘Lyra Heartstrings’, unicorn mare, mature.
Behavioral software version EQ 3.4.1


Well, Vic thought, it’s relatively understandable. “Sapient educable” meant the synthet could perceive information from the outside world, store and process it beside the base behavioral program, and talk. “Mature” meant the synthet had already passed its infancy and period of growth.

OBE meant “Owens’ Biosynthetic Engineering”, the company everyone associated with bioengineering itself. The company that had recreated “Hasbro” and many other remnants of the past as IP-holding subdivisions.

The numbers probably meant something too, but Vic, like every end user, ignored them completely.

The “EQ” index in the version of the program meant the pony would consider itself an Equestria-born that came to Earth. Bronies usually bought “Equestrian” ponies: Vic was told it was more interesting and entertaining that way. Somewhere in the User Manual were the approved “explanations” why ponies on Earth have “twins”. Actually, there was a whole chapter containing the standard answers to the common pony questions helped to prevent glitches in synthets’ behavioral software.

At first, when a “Hasbro Synthets” catalogue fell into Victor Stewart’s hands, he decided to buy a character from the “My Little Pony” TV show, which among the others found a second life and a fandom after a century of oblivion.

The timid Fluttershy was Vic’s initial choice, but then he realized almost every other brony owned at least one of the Mane Six. Or even a few ponies of the same type, ignoring “Hasbro’s” warnings about possible behavioral software crashes.

Such a common choice of a pony felt too trivial to Vic.
 
“Rainbow Dash” had held its position as the best selling model for years, almost since the rebranding day of the show. It seemed everyone who purchased an azure pegasus believed her presence in their house would make them twenty percent cooler. However, more often than not, they requested to replace her standard behavioral program with a submissive and gutless one. No one likes to be mocked by a synthet, and the athletic pegasus was known to possess a headstrong temper and a sharp tongue.
 
No one seemed to mind that the modifications were turning a lively and active creature into a shadow of herself, eventually making her waste away inside the colorful shell of her degrading body. Of course, nothing should hamper the whims of the customers!

Vic wasn’t ready to switch to the active lifestyle in order not to turn into a “lame nerd” or a “slowpoke” in Rainbow’s eyes. Besides that, his apartment was relatively small, and pegasi require space to fly. That was, by the way, another reason against a Fluttershy, if a rather strained one.

On the other hand, Victor didn’t wish to purchase an unfamiliar pony. Who in Celestia’s name are Scrappy Rag, Fluffle Puff, DoubleWSisters, Erin ‘Sunflower’ Olsen or Blackjack? he thought, turning the pages of the catalogue. While he’d heard the names of Littlepip and Snowdrop, others were completely unfamiliar.

And alicorns were expensive enough to make his hair stand on end. One could buy a decent hovercar with that tot, for crying out loud!

But the marketing move did allow “Hasbro” to kill two birds with one stone: the high prices allowed for improved abilities more similar to the original characters’ and kept the alicorn population limited and exclusive.

A few months had passed since Vic had followed the advice of Steven Aguilar. That day, full of doubt and irony, he found a virtual site with ancient 2D-cartoons, chose the right one… and resurfaced twelve hours later.

He watched the old episodes, and then he watched the new ones. With a rising sense of wonder he found an inexplicable delight in that strange cartoon. Then, as if some puzzle piece slipped in its place and finalized the picture, Victor realized he had discovered a whole new world: bright and full of joy and kindness.

And then there was the fandom and fanfiction. The old recognized creations, borderline classics, silently approved by Hasbro itself, and the new ones, which recently emerged in the Cyberspace of Gigapolis. Beautiful and inspiring, or sad and heartbreaking, or disgusting and gut-wrenching. Once again Victor was astonished by his sympathy with the characters, be it sincere happiness or deep sadness about their destinies.
 
Naturally, Vic couldn’t read everything. But even what he familiarized himself with was enough to form his opinion about ponies and their relations with humans in the real world. One day Victor understood he could no longer consider himself outside the brony community. And so he made up his mind.

Although Vic adored the yellow pegasus for her calm demeanor and a solitary disposition, soon he came across a more exquisite choice.

Lyra Heartstrings was considered an unsuccessful model. Her behavioral program probably contained some undetected bug. Lyra had an unhealthy adoration towards humans, bordering on worship, which for unknown reasons often led to disappointment. This pony was prone to depression, loss of will to live and – an unthinkable situation for a normal synthet – suicidal tendencies. As a result, Lyras’ owners often asked for refunds or simply abandoned their synthets, some even disposing of them with the most radical of methods.

Hasbro’s top managers declared Lyra’s behavioral program, developed following the fandom’s wishes, an unfixable one. The model was unpopular, unprofitable and barely recouped its costs. Her software had been frozen at its third version, while Mane Six models already operated on their eighth. In the modern Gigapoleis the law of the market was the ultimate law.

With the mint-colored pony in short demand, her name was placed at the end of the catalogue… and she was a third of the price of the top-selling Rainbow Dash or the runner-up Fluttershy. And so, a week after the order was placed, a big brightly colored box with a Hasbro logo appeared at Victor’s apartment.

The package held a special container, where in a state of deep hibernation lay the little pony, dreaming calmly – alive and real. Not a doll or a robot, but flesh and blood, a mercurial mind. And a soul, the existence of which would be rejected by any religion, but so obvious to any brony.

Having removed the packaging and the shockproof casing, Vic spent some time eyeing the container, where, as if in a crystal egg, the pony snuggled. Her sides were slowly rising and falling, her huge eyes were closed, and her muzzle wore an expression of calm serenity. Her mane and tail were braided in tricky knots and held by soft bands so that they didn’t hinder the awakening process. Three tubes led from the transparent breathing mask to the recirculation module.

In such an anabiotic state, with all biological processes slowed down, a synthet could sleep for years.

Do ponies dream of magic lands? Victor thought. I think they do. They probably see their foalhood in Equestria, remember growing up with their friends, and recall their journey to the alien world. As for me, I would never leave Equestria voluntarily. Do ponies miss home, or do they, perhaps, accept their destiny? Maybe they just forget about Equestria eventually? I should probably ask Lyra when she wakes up.

Sometimes awakening is the first step into a nightmare for a pony. The things some… people (including bronies)… enjoy doing to synthets cannot be described otherwise.

Looking at her cute face, her amusingly sticking ears, her smooth mint-green fur and neat miniature horn, Victor pondered what kind of a person could be cruel and heartless enough to harm such creature: put it on a chain, clobber and torture it and… more. And then record everything and upload it to the Net to boot.

Every time a new synthet is awakened, Victor thought, the gods toss a coin in the air, but no one holds their breath to see how it will land. Will a new pony meet a caring and true friend, or will they be welcomed into a living hell?

As it was stated in the User Manual, if a pony was being awakened at home, the whole process should have taken place in a clean bathtub. A liquid oxygen-enriched nutrient inside the special container must be drained and the pony should be carefully washed with a supplied shampoo to remove the chemical smell. The washing process also allows the user to establish a “primary emotional bond” between the synthet and the master. Huh.

Vic carried the heavy container to the bathroom and rechecked the manual. Remote control in the package? Ah yes. Though technically every synthet was supposed to follow verbal commands, in case of emergencies there was a remote control with a built-in diagnostics unit and a short-range tracking device.

Note to self: do not forget to pre-pay the long-range tracking, Vic thought while entering and confirming the activation code.

A straight cut split the surface of the container. Liquid poured down into the bathtub, filling the room with a pungent medicinal smell. Vic waited patiently. No rush, pal. You’re on vacation, and the day is young.

As the container emptied, its transparent shell became mushy, then sagged into a jelly-like puddle and slowly drained following the nutrient. Vic rechecked the manual and removed the breathing mask from the pony’s muzzle.

The pony’s eyelashes fluttered slightly: she was about to wake up. The breathing mask was slowly decomposing into something that resembled a squished jellyfish, and Vic hastily tried to scrape the remains of the mask from the pony’s face. From a light touch of his fingers, the huge yellow eyes opened, and the first thing the little pony saw in her life was a human’s face breaking into a wide happy smile.

She tried to say something, but started coughing up the remains of the nutrient, flowing out of her expanding lungs. Vic wanted to pat her on the back but stopped himself as it was not recommended by the manual.

As soon as Lyra cleared her airways, she reached out with her forelegs and tenaciously caught Vic’s arm. Her hooves felt very soft.

Ah, Vic thought, amazed. Does she have suction cups on her hooves or something?

“Oh, Celestia, a human!” the unicorn wheezed, burying her face in Vic’s arms. “With ha-ands!”

“Do you feel well? Does anything hurt?” he asked as calmly as possible, barely stifling a laugh growing inside.

She stared at the man with those enormous yellow eyes of hers.

"No… Nothing hurts, no” she said, then cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly. “Everything feels funny, though. And my throat is raspy. And for some reason I’m covered in muck.”

Her voice was somewhat husky but sounded exactly like in the TV show. When did people hear her voice for the first time? Victor thought. More than hundred years ago. And she still sounds like a young girl.

“It will pass,” he said softly, trying to release his hand from Lyra’s grip. “I’m going to give you a bath now, then we’ll eat and you’ll certainly feel much better.”

“Ri-ight, I’m dreaming,” the unicorn said and made a failing attempt to rise on her legs. “There’s a living, tangible human that somehow wants to wash me and feed me. Yep, I’m dreaming, right?”

“No, you’re not. Quite the contrary, you woke up!” Vic said and grabbed the pony by her sides, helping her rise.

“That tickles!” Lyra squealed nervously and shook her legs. Her hooves rattled against the bottom of bathtub.

“Actually, I’m a grown-up mare and I can definitely bathe on my own,” she said, “but I’m very tempted to put myself in a human’s hands. It’s like a free visit to the human spa.”

“It will be my pleasure to assist you, Lyra,” Victor said reassuringly and turned on the shower. “Please tell me when the water reaches a comfortable temperature.”

“O-okay. But how do you know my name?”

“That’s a long story. Let’s finish giving you a shower first, and then I’ll tell you. Or, rather, show you.”

“That would be great. But can I ask you at least one question right now?” Lyra asked carefully.

“Of course.”

“Well…” Lyra took a breath. “Then what the hay am I doing in a bathtub covered in goo inside and out?!"

Vic blinked.

“Side effects of the transfer!” he pattered. Yeah, transfer alright, from the store to the buyer.

The mare nodded contentedly and straightened up.

“Good… that’s… good. Both the transfer’s success and the water temperature,” she said, shooting Victor a glance. He moved his hand away from the temperature controller.

What thoughts are passing through that cute head? he asked himself.

“What’s your name?” the unicorn asked.

"Victor Stewart. But you can call me Vic.”

“Deal.”

The supplied “Lyra shampoo” smelled like mint. Vic untied the ribbons around the unicorn’s mane, and wet green strands with white streaks fell on her neck and back.

Hasbro produced a lot of synthet-care products. Synthets are living beings with their own hygiene, nourishment and handling needs, after all. Victor picked up a special brush but could not resist the urge to timidly run his bare hand through the lathery pony fur. Lyra gave him a joyful squint; it seemed she enjoyed the touch.

“Tee-hee, fingers…” she whispered, and her tail suddenly wagged from side to side, spraying water and suds around.

Victor staggered and tried to wipe the lather from his face.

“Whoopsy daisy! That was an accident!” Lyra stuttered, blushing fiercely.

Is her blush visible through the fur, or is fur itself reddening? Vic thought, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, that’s alright", Vic said. He thought about the synthet activation procedure described in the User Manual and asked, “Tell me please, what do you remember about the time before the… transfer?”

The pony thought for a moment, her eyes raised, as if could read the answer from the ceiling.

“Well, I guess I didn’t lose any memories, if that’s your concern,” she said at last. “I was born, grew up and studied in Canterlot. Moved to Ponyville after graduation. There I met Bon Bon and we lived together for a while. My hobby was ancient history and mythology, and my studies led me to the discovery of humanmankind…”

“The correct pronunciation would be mankind,” Victor corrected automatically. “Oh, sorry, please continue.”

"Yes, right, thank you. My studies led me to the discovery of human civilization in Equestria’s past and I asked Princess Celestia to clarify the matter. She told me that humans were extinct in Equestria but they inhabited another world, almost devoid of magic, where their population was enormous and technologies were highly developed.”

“And?”

“And of course I asked the Princess to send me there. She tried to dissuade me at first, but then she agreed on one condition: I was to leave my clone in Equestria. I visited the Mirror Pool and then the Princess sent me here with her magic. I remember water and darkness. I swam through it. And then I woke up in your bathtub.”

The man beamed. He decided it was time to give Lyra the next prescribed message.

“There are many Equestrian ponies living in our world,” he said, “so don't be shocked by that. The Princess sent your clones here before, and many other ponies’ too.”

“Really?” asked Lyra in astonishment. “Wow… Now I see. That’s why there was a well-trodden path to the Mirror Pool! Silly me, I was worried I’d be alone here.”

Hats off to Hasbro, the story with that lake was quite ingenious, Vic thought. And surely there are logical chains and safety protocols implanted into a pony’s mind for such cases that will make it ignore any discrepancies.

“Now close your eyes and I’ll wash your head,” he said aloud, and the mare gently dropped her eyelids.

When he lathered her mane and ears, Lyra smiled. “Could you wash here a bit more? Yes, right there! It feels sooo good!”

“Oh, of course!” Victor replied. Stroking the pony, burying his fingers into her silky mane, scratching her behind her ears, turned out to be a very pleasant experience. It’s like stroking a cat. No, like stroking hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats! Victor thought.

When Victor reached her horn, Lyra suddenly gasped, and for a second a radiant flash of green light filled the bathroom.
 
“Oh!” she exclaimed, blushing wildly, her eyes squinted. “Don't touch me there!”
 
The green light around her horn faded and the mare shuffled her hooves nervously.
 
Damn, I forgot! There is a sensitive spot near the base of the horn! he thought belatedly.
 
Naturally, all synthets were living creatures with the flaws and needs of all living creatures, even if “Hasbro” had no wish to deal with litigations from customers sexually harassed by technicolor toy ponies.
 
So, every synthet’s behavioral program contained the so-called “stop-script”. Well, maybe not Princess Molestia’s program, or some other programs, designed for synthets with highly specific purposes, but every standard program issue anyway.
 
The User Manual stated that any synthet would not willfully develop an attraction to a human beyond the limits of normal friendship.
 
The manufacturer warned that the owner’s attempts to bypass the stop-script by force could lead to irreparable damage to the synthet’s behavioral program. Sometimes it could lead to escape attempts, or even aggressive behavior towards the owner.
 
The company also claimed not to be liable for any effects of misusing the product. Because everybody knows well: people have some very kinky hobbies.
 
“Sorry!” Victor said indistinctly. “I didn't mean to!”
 
“Um… no problem. That’s okay,” Lyra replied, shifting her hooves. “And could you please make the water a bit cooler when you start washing off the lather?”
 
“Cool water. Right. Right.” Vic nodded.

***
 
Once Lyra was bathed and wiped dry with a big towel, she shone brighter than a new pin. She combed her mane and tail, and Vic observed the work of her horn with fascination, while the manebrush flitted and danced in her telekinetic field.
 
A unicorn’s horn was a biotechnological masterpiece. It could generate a low-power forcefield that passed for telekinesis. It also could emit light and sound, and do some other tricks. Pegasi had antigravs in their wings with feather-like resonators. Alicorns had both, but of better quality. And the ponies were explained that it was impossible to cast powerful spells because of the “low levels of natural magical energies” in the human world.

“Would you like to get dressed?” Vic asked.
 
“Get dressed?” She spun in front of the mirror girlishly.
 
“"Yes. I’ve prepared some garments for you,” Vic said. In fact every pony was supplied with a set of necessary things, including clothes. Lyra came with a white tunic, some fancy gown Vic never studied closely and four long white socks with mint-green stripes.
 
“Why? Are we going somewhere?” the unicorn asked.
 
“Well, not now. You see, here on Earth only animals wear no clothes, while sapient beings should usually be dressed.”
 
“Got it!” The little pony beamed. “Whoa, is it okay that I’m all, you know… animalistic right now?”
 
“Naked? Well… I guess this rule can’t be applied that strictly to ponies. You’re virtually newborn after all,” Vic tried to explain.
 
“Am I? Oka-a-ay,” the mare drawled, then drove the thought away. “Alright, show me what you’ve got!”

Victor had bought a few sets of pony clothes besides the standard one in case Lyra wanted variety. Of course she’d want diversity. She’s a gal, for Celestia’s sake!

The unicorn opted for a taupe pantsuit and tied a feminine tie, grabbing them with her telekinesis. It seems she likes to be clothed, Vic thought, even if I can’t believe it is comfortable to wear a garment over fur.

“Well, how do I look?” she asked, gazing upwards at the man.

She’s barely waist-high when standing on four legs, Vic thought absently. The average pony height just exceeded two and a half feet. Stallions could usually grow a quarter of a dozen inches taller. And of course alicorns were the tallest: Celestia surpassed the average man’s height without even counting her horn.

“You look splendid.” Vic smiled. “Dressed to kill, or go to a soiree. Actually, you don’t need to wear a jacket at home.”

Lyra blushed slightly. Her small jacket got enveloped in a pale glow and hovered to the back of a chair.

“You promised to tell me how you know me,” she prompted, changing the topic.

“Oh, of course. Let’s go, shall we?” Victor said, heading to the living room. He turned on a 2D-visor, and a huge rectangular screen appeared in midair.

“We’ll watch a couple episodes to give you a basic understanding how humans know about Equestria,” he said. “But first let me show you around.”

Victor gave Lyra a tour of the apartment, and taught her how to use its amenities and appliances, just to avoid haphazard explanations in the future. It took less than half an hour. The unicorn easily compensated the lack of hands with her telekinesis or surprisingly prehensile front hooves.

I’m curious how earth ponies and pegasi would do the trick, Vic thought, watching the remote control for house appliances flitting around, luminescent in a fake magic glow.

When he told Lyra humans never used magic to make their machines work, the unicorn bombarded him with tons of technical questions, the answers to which were either unknown to Vic or could not be explained to Lyra. The curious mare calmed down only when Victor promised to show her a documentary about human technological achievements.

Soon Lyra and Vic settled on a big couch in front of a holographic screen and spent the next couple of hours watching the show.

From a century of oblivion rose Equestria, the Elements of Harmony, and the Princesses. The characters came to life on screen and lived and talked and sang…

Victor left the room a few times to bring more snacks and some lemonade from the kitchen.

Every time he met the look of the golden shimmering eyes, he felt as if a pair of wings was unfolding behind his back. Every word of the little unicorn that was sitting in a perfectly human pose on his couch filled those wings with wind. And she just munched peanuts merrily and slurped lemonade with a straw.

“Look, Vic, I remember that moment! Oh, that’s me again!” she exclaimed upon seeing herself on screen. “Everypony looks so funny, drawn that way!”

A robocourier arrived with a pizza from the Italian restaurant a hundred levels below. The unicorn was fascinated by the looks of the hovering drone, and when Victor explained that the delivery robot was not a magical creature, her excitement reached happy puppy levels.

The setting sun painted windows red and orange.

“We don’t need to watch everything in one go,” Vic said, throwing a look at the dusk.

Here at the top levels of the White City, the sun was not hurried to hide beyond the low horizon. Dirty concrete multi-levelled mazes of transport interchanges, rough brick walls and smoking communications – everything lay far beneath. Here the steel and glass and spires of buildings pierced the skies. Constellations of holograms shined here forever, encircled by coils of invisible roads for hovercars and drones and the green tendrils of high-altitude parks. And only the sun glowed above covering everything in red gold.

Truly a majestic view, the triumph of human creativity and ingenuity, of architecture and engineering, bringing the visions of science fiction to life. The Spires. The future today.

Lyra observed all that unimaginable magnificence with a wide-eyed stare. The White City glistened in the dusk, and Lyra’s eyes shimmered with tears. This was the human world, her cherished dream – now a reality. Right here, right now.

With a corner of his eye Victor saw the rapture in Lyra’s golden eyes.
 
“Vic,” she whispered, not looking up from the window, “this… this is incredible… How many humans live in here?”
 
“Here in the European Gigapolis? About one and a half billion now,” he replied. “But if you mean the whole planet, Earth, the number might be somewhere about twelve billion in five cities similar to this one.”
 
“Twelve… billions…” the pony squeaked, wonderstruck by the number. Indeed, the biggest city she could imagine before was Manehattan with its population of less than one million ponies.
 
“But why would anyhuman build a city this huge?” she asked after calming down somewhat.

Victor recalled the history class and began the story.

“After the end of the Third W… ahem… Well, when the problem of livelihood of the human population became a burning issue, the Gigapoleis project emerged. The Gigapoleis are giant cities with highly-developed utilities, designed to reduce fares and optimize industry, population density and resources distribution. Mankind couldn’t afford to be wasteful anymore.”

Vic sighed and continued.

“Some… differences between people complicated their natural cooperation. Anyway, the major corporations and the United Nations approved and supported the project. The Global Assembly, the world’s government agency, was formed on the basis of the UN. The corporations committed themselves to bring the megacities to life. As you can see, they even succeeded for once.”

Victor did not bring up the fact that most parts of Gigapoleis were not like the Spires. Not shining castles over a grey sea of concrete and asphalt. He didn’t highlight that only the most well off citizens could afford a life in the White City. And the farther one moved away from its high walls, the gloomier and more dangerous the streets around became. Well, at least the media say so. Not that I’ve been there myself. Not that I want to discuss any of that with Lyra.

And Lyra? Lyra watched the human city with innocent eyes. Nothing could penetrate the unicorn’s awe-struck expression. She saw the new world from its brightest, most beautiful side, and her conviction in the wisdom and grandeur of the human race grew even stronger in her heart.

She wanted to know it, to understand it. She wanted to learn everything. So Vic switched to science channels.

Before her eyes unfolded the views of national parks and ancient history reconstructions, science and culture and the history of Gigapoleis. Every bit of mankind’s pride.

Technological progress seemed to be Lyras favorite topic. Humans didn’t have wings or magic, and required none. They had thermonuclear power, bioengineering and unipolymers – the three pillars upon which the modern world stood. And robotics! And astronautics! And many more!

Nightfall sneaked in and settled. The science programs playlist wasn’t even thirty percent completed when Lyra turned the screen off, handling remote control with ease.

“I’m gonna collapse right now,” she said, and yawned so eagerly her small ears almost touched each other on the back of her head. “Guess that’s enough excitement for one day.”
 
Victor smiled. Then he looked around. The place reminded him of a battlefield. Cookie wrappers and empty peanut bags, pizza boxes (cheese, paprika and mushrooms) and ubiquitous Coca-Cola bottles were scattered around the floor in a crumpled, torn, battered and scattered mess, like a fallen warhost.

“Indeed, you’re right,” he said, “it’s high time to go to bed. We probably should postpone the cleaning. We can do it tomorrow. I’m on vacation anyway. I’ve no errands to run anytime soon.”

The unicorn yawned again, which he took as an affirmative.

“Vic,” she unexpectedly said, “you haven’t told me anything about yourself.”
 
“Um, maybe tomorrow? You’re literally falling asleep,” Victor replied.
 
“Oh, sweet Celestia!” Lyra theatrically raised her foreleg and covered her eyes in a dramatic gesture. “I’m spending the night with a complete stranger, a human to boot! Whatever would I tell Bon Bon! Whatever would ponies think of me?”
 
Is she really afraid of me? Vic thought frantically. But she’s smiling. And there are these mischievous sparkles in her eyes. That could probably mean she’s joking. Yes. Apparently joking.
 
“All right,” he said. “Change of plans! Let’s clean this mess together and I’ll tell you about myself a little. How about that?”
 
“Yay! Nocturnal daily routines!” the unicorn exclaimed and jumped off the couch.

Magical unicorns are convenient for housecleaning, Vic thought as he observed wrappers, crumpled packs and even the smallest crumbs being enveloped in telekinetic radiance and hoverdanced into a trash bag he held. We could activate cleaning drones but those clods always miss something.

“So, will you tell me about yourself or what?” Lyra asked when the trash bag was half-full.

The man slapped his forehead hard. “Oh! Sorry, I just watched you working… Ahem.”

He tried to collect his thoughts. Thoughts frantically escaped. “Well, my name is Victor J. Stewart and I’m a manager. I work… um… in an office in a company you never heard of and probably will never hear about.” Oh, I'm rambling. “I have plenty of money and work for… um… education purposes, I suppose. I’m twenty four. I live here… um… in this apartment in the higher levels of White City of the European Gigapolis. Which is a giant urban complex, a conglomerate of multiple cities of old Europe and you already know it–” And it’s obvious so why am I even telling this I’m rambling again stop rambling Stewart! “Um… And I have parents. Yes. They live in Sidney Arcology. And my great-uncle lives in the Siberian taiga.”

He stopped and took a deep breath. Wonderful response, Stewart. So elegant.

“Do you have a special somehuman?” Lyra asked quickly, then blushed. “Sorry!”

“Somewho man? No! No, I don’t have a girlfriend, a fortiori, a wife,” he replied. “And there’s nothing to be sorry for!”

“Then I’ll ask more,” the mare said. Her voice suddenly became dead serious. “How did I happen specifically upon your bathtub, what is my status here and what will happen next?”

This question brought Victor’s mind back to life. According to the User Manual, questions like this were typical for recently activated synthets. Victor meticulously studied every possible one of them and was ready. I locked the Manual in the safe after reading it, didn’t I?

“Do you remember the company logo at the beginning of every episode? Hasbro?” he asked. When the pony nodded, he continued, “In the past this company produced toys and cartoons… generally speaking. Now it deals with situations like yours. I don’t know any details, but they reached some form of agreement with Princess Celestia. And now the way to Earth is open for Equestrians.”

Victor paused. Lyra peered at him, her head cocked. “You didn’t say in what capacity I’m here,” she said quietly.

This is it, the point of no return. The Manual states, I must make a choice, and our whole relationship depends on my next words, Victor thought. But I’ve made my choice long ago.

“I’ll be honest. Right now you’re my guest. But I hope it’s the beginning of a true friendship,” he said.

A wide smile returned to the pony’s face.
 
“Thank you!” Lyra said sincerely, then suddenly approached the man, rose on her hind legs, reached up and hugged him. “Here, in an alien world, it means so much to me!”
 
“Me too, Lyra. Me too,” he whispered. With the pony’s muzzle just below his face, Victor felt the urge to peck her on her funny soft nose. That would be inappropriate! Keep it together, Stewart! he encouraged himself and instead simply embraced the unicorn just below the bottom edge of her mane where he assumed her shoulders were.
 
They stayed still for a minute. Then Vic coughed awkwardly, released Lyra, grabbed the trash bag and promptly carried it to the utilizer. The mare followed him. She was interested in every bit of human technology and fascinated by the column of the pneumatic utilizer, which sent waste to a recycling station humming softly.
 
“Where am I sleeping?” Lyra asked when they returned to the room.
 
“There are two possible options,” Victor said. “Either you can stay here on the couch, or you can have a shakedown on the squab in my cabinet.”
 
“But if I take your squab where will you sleep?”
 
“Oh, I’ll sleep in my bed!” Victor smiled. “There is a double bed in my bedroom.”
 
The pony thought for several seconds.
 
“Could you remind me, can humans sleep together in their big comfy beds instead of sleeping separately on squabs in cabinets?” she asked. Her voice carried apparent cunning notes that went completely over Vic’s head. The Manual mentioned such questions from synthets as low priority but he was ready to answer them and waited for such possibility.
 
"Sleeping together is socially appropriate for spouses, special somehu… couples and friends.” He reported eagerly. “It is also acceptable as a desperate act in situations with zero alternatives. It’s awkward to offer you to share my bed the first night after we met, though.”
 
“Okay, I’ll sleep here on the couch.” Lyra said. “I can watch movies from here. Couches have their advantages!”
 
“One minute please!” Victor smiled happily, oblivious to the sarcasm, and headed to the closet to get bed linen.
 
“Um, one more thing", the pony said, timidly shuffling her hooves. “Is it really necessary to wear clothes all the time? Even when sleeping?”
 
“Ah, the possibilities are wide!” Vic said. “From no clothes at all to a minimal amounts of clothes to full pajamas in case of especially cold nights. I guess the same works for ponies. It’s a question of personal choice I suppose.”
 
“Okay, got it!” The pony smiled with relief. “Good night then?”
 
“Have a good night, Lyra.” Victor nodded and headed to the bedroom.
 
Behind his back he heard the rustle of clothes and soft humming of some song. He heard the words “human beings” and “way they are”.
 
Victor felt something the bronies at the Club were talking about. Something they connected with ponies in their lives: serenity and joy.
 
Is this happiness?
> Chapter 03
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------






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… 


> Chapter 04
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





When they returned to Vic's apartment, Lyra decided to try to have some more fun with technology. While Vic was busy making tea, Lyra dressed back in her tunic, let her mane down and settled comfortably on the couch in the living room.
 
"Visor, on," the unicorn said, recalling Vic's words about voice-controlled appliances, then added meekly, "please…"
 
"Select channel," inquired the system's artificial voice, startling the pony.
 
The unicorn bolted upward. It was strange to talk to thin air. It was just like magic.
 
"Uhm… some… something… fun?" Lyra replied.
 
A well-kept lawn resembling a schoolyard appeared on the screen. It looked even more so when a dark-haired boy came into view. He wore jeans, a cap and a T-shirt. As he walked, the camera followed him, and other kids flashed in the background.
 
The boy cried into an old-fashioned mic clutched in his hand. "This is Ash, and today we're reporting from the White City's own Gamma District School friendlies! Welcome to the ‘Pokémon Arena!’"
 
He stretched out his words ceremoniously. The spectators broke into resounding applause, and holograms flashed in the background, replacing the school stadium with the illusion of a huge arena.
 
The young show host continued, "Our first contestants are Thomas Groß and the steady audience favorite, Pikachu!"
 
The applause roared again, and the camera turned to a scrawny curly-haired boy dressed in a dazzling white shirt and a tie clipped with a lightning bolt pin. A small yellow creature with pointy ears was bouncing impatiently near him, squeaking furiously.
 
The frame switched back to the host again as he reached out his hand to the other side.  
 
"And their opponents—Harry Carpenter and Ekans, the two-time champions of Gamma District School!"
 
The view shifted to the other side of the arena. A black boy stood there, a wicked grin on his face. He was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, and held a snake. Barely restrained violence boiled beneath the snake's calm demeanor.
 
"Let's hear what the contestants have to say!" the host exclaimed. The camera panned to a close-up of the yellow creature's owner.
 
"Pikachu always wins!" the boy stated confidently. "That's what the show's taught me, and mine's never let me down!"
 
The picture shifted back to the host. He nodded and gestured to the serpent's owner, the camera following the motion.
 
"Ekans has already defeated Pikachu," he said. "Not this one, but others. Four of them. Piece of cake."
 
Lyra smiled. This was something familiar in an alien world. She loved sports, and not just from a spectator's seat. She had participated in the Running of the Leaves and a triathlon or two in Equestria, and was even somewhat skilled in the unicorn martial art, "The Path of Tranquility." Not that she thought of it as a sport; it was not an art of body control, but magical prowess. Alas, she could not pursue it anymore: her telekinesis was pretty weak in this world, hardly fit for combat. Lyra enveloped a cookie from the jar on the table in a magical glow and brought it to her mouth.
 
It was wildly exciting to watch the top-notch aerobatics of pegasi or the plain but immensely exhausting earth pony races. I wonder which kind of sport the kids with these funny creatures are going to compete in?
 
As if to reply to her thought, the music roared and the host exclaimed, "Let the battle begi-i-i-in!!!"
 
The camera zoomed in on the combatants.
 
Lyra could not believe her eyes. The almost seven feet long snake attacked the tiny yellow creature.
 
"Pikachu!" the squeaking furball cried time and again.
 
"Eka-a-a-an-s-s-s!" the snake hissed in reply.
 
At that, the fighters traded blows. Lyra would bet anything that the little furball was doomed. Worn out by the lashing tail blows, suffering from the bites, it could hardly evade the ceaseless attacks.
 
The camera switched to the faces of the young owners. Lyra saw their excitement and ardor but not even a hint of sympathy.
 
Finally, the serpent managed to coil around its little furry opponent. Pikachu was struggling desperately, trying to claw and bite its way out of the deadly grip, but all its attacks didn't even scratch Ekans' thick scales.
 
But when the serpent was about to deliver the final blow, the yellow creature suddenly lit up with a bright flash of unknown magic. The serpent's angry hiss turned into a painful shriek. With a clap of thunder, a blazing ball of lightning engulfed the tangled fighters.
 
When the flash subsided, it was the serpent who was vanquished. It lay on the ground convulsing, body twitching with residual discharges, eyes rolled into its head.
 
Lyra watched in horror as the masters rushed up to their beaten, bloody pets.
 
What's going on? These poor creatures are in dire need of medical attention, stat! Lyra thought, panic rising inside her.
 
"Pika… Pika-chuu!" the furball squeaked, getting weaker by the second. "Pi…chu!"
 
As if not noticing its suffering, the master hugged his pet tightly, staining his white shirt. 
 
"I love you too, Pikachu!" he cried.
 
"…What are you're watching?" asked Vic, stepping into the room.
 
A grav tray hovered before him. Vic gestured to the coffee table, and the smart house system guided it there.
 
Victor cast a look at the visor screen and grimaced.
 
"Uhm, what nonsense. I mean, it's a kids show, you know."
 
"I don't understand. Who are these…" Lyra mumbled.
 
"These are pocket monsters. They are created for the sole purpose of fighting each other in tournaments to earn badges for their masters."
 
I wonder how absurd that sounded for her, Vic thought.
 
Lyra's huge eyes stared at him, uncomprehending and grief-stricken.
 
"But… but why?" the unicorn asked, her voice faltering, as a new fight was unfolding on the screen. "Suppose they are monsters, they're still living beings… why were they created? Look how they suffer! They're screaming in agony! What kind of entertainment is this, watching somebody writhe in pain?"
 
"Some people enjoy it," Vic grumbled in embarrassment, then hastily added, "I don't."
 
Lyra took the man's hand into her hooves and looked up at him plaintively. Her ears pinned back affectingly, the unicorn asked, "Does this boy not realize his pet is going to die?"
 
Vic tried to explain it. "Look, I don't know all the fine points, but here's the gist of it. These monsters, these… pokémons, are bred specifically for the arena. Did you see the orbs those kids were holding?"
 
Lyra nodded in response. A spark of curiosity shone through her eyes.
 
"Well, those things are called pokéballs, if I recall correctly. They work as pokémon control modules. Pokémons aren't actually conscious during the fight. At that time they are controlled by their owners. Trust me, Pikachu's going to be fine. It'll be healed in a few minutes after its young master carries it to the school medical block."
 
"Goodness gracious!" Lyra exclaimed. "And you let children do this? And for what? Badges? Trinkets?"
 
Vic shrugged and said, "Well, I told you this show was nonsensical." 
 
"This show isn't nonsensical! It's atrocious!"
 
"Visor, National Geographic," Vic commanded, and the picture of the chirping host was replaced with a majestic mountain landscape. "Unfortunately, there are too many… bad things happening in the world. I'll explain some before long. I just need to prepare. Until then, don't let it go to your head, okay?"
 
Lyra felt perplexed. She was dying of curiosity to see how many more puzzling facets humankind had yet to show. Her fear was slowly fading. Yes, this is savagery from a pony's standpoint. But, considering the human omnivority, it doesn't seem all that bad. After all, pegasi hold martial arts tournaments in Cloudsdale. Maybe this monster arena is also an integral part of human culture, Lyra thought.
 
Moreover, the unicorn desperately wanted to trust Vic, the first human she had met in this novel world.
 
Lyra forced a smile.
 
"All right. Although I still don't get it why you bother with me…"
 
Victor scratched Lyra behind her ears. The pony giggled shyly, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. Then, suddenly, she rose on her hind legs right on the couch and folded her front legs around the man.
 
Her soft muzzle touched his face.
 
Lyra gave Vic's cheek a friendly nuzzle and noticed him blush. Giggling again, she returned to the couch and said, "Thank you for all your effort. Now, how about some tea?"
 
Victor nodded and sat down beside her.
 
As the night slowly took the reins from the sun, the VR system remained unused for the first time in years.
 
***
 
That night, Victor was awakened by a rustling sound from the kitchen. He carefully left the bed and put on a bathrobe. His feet bare, he walked through the corridor making no sound.
 
He gingerly peeked through the doorway, and what he saw almost made him laugh out loud.
 
He and Lyra had decided that they would go to bed early and spend the next day exploring the city. After the incident at the opera, Victor wanted to show the unicorn something more decent, like the National Natural History Museum, the Geneva spaceport or the cyclopean Galaxy-Plaza entertainment complex.
 
The pony refused dinner, having stuffed herself full with sweets and pastries… Well, it seems that was her mistake.
 
Dressed in a tunic and soft socks, the unicorn stood by the fridge, a half-eaten cake froze in her telekinetic grasp. She stared at the parted door, eyes wide open.
 
"Itf not what you are finkin!" she blurted out, "These… pokébones freaked me out! And besides, you should have knocked! You said it yourself!"
 
Lyra looked so touchingly cute with a piece of cake near her mouth that Vic couldn't help smiling.
 
"What?" she said after a few seconds, the cake finished and her nose stained with cream.
 
Victor glanced once again, and finally cracked.
 
"You have a real sweet tooth!" he let out. "You've got no idea how… cute you are!"
 
"Am not!" protested the pony, stomping her hoof. "And besides, pastries go straight to your flanks. And on top of that, it's just one itsy bitsy little cake!"
 
"You're welcome," Vic reassured her. "Don't worry, I bought it for you anyway."
 
"Really?"
 
"Yes really," he nodded. "And as for the fat flank, tomorrow we can go to a gym or a dancing class."
 
The unicorn chuckled, spraying the cake around.
 
A small drone carefully crept out from its burrow and started to clean the floor.
 
"Thank you." She smiled.
 
"Good night, Lyra," said Victor, about to leave.
 
"Vic…"
 
The man stopped mid-turn and gave the pony a puzzled look.
 
"You're so kind, taking care of me… thank you," she whispered. He could see her blush even through the unlit kitchen.
 
"Don't mention it," said Victor, his heart melting. "I'm just happy that you came into my life."
 
Having said that, he went back to bed. He heard the sound of the fridge door opening and some faint words along the lines of "just one more…."

* * *
 
Victor stretched, woken up by the morning sunshine. His heart was light.
 
I still can't get used to this feeling of serenity.
 
The crack of a whip came from the living room, followed by a muffled moan.
 
Victor sprang to his feet and dashed to the rescue in his pajamas.
 
Has someone broken into the apartment? Impossible, it's floor 200…ish… but why does it sound like something very wrong is happening?
 
"You are a bad, bad filly!" boomed a voice from the room, mixing with the sounds of whimpers and lashing blows.
 
Vic's heart skipped a beat. He threw the door open, ready to rip the one who dared lay their finger on Lyra apart with his own bare hands. She was so happy and carefree just yesterday!
 
Lyra was alone.
 
The holoscreen floated close to the ceiling. Victor glanced there and stifled a groan.
 
Lyra was a pity to behold. She cowered under the blanket she had pulled up to her eyes and whimpered as she watched the scene play out.
 
On the screen there was a yellow pegasus pony with a pink mane. She was a synthet, of course, but it had little meaning whatsoever. For Lyra it was a scene of utter horror, with a timid Fluttershy, two humans and lots of leather and steel instruments.
 
Each strike of the whip scourged the yellow coat and made Lyra shiver. She felt like it was her on the receiving end, in the hands of tormentors… her golden eyes, wide with terror, streamed tears down her muzzle.
 
"Visor, off!" Victor ordered, though he realized it was far too late. There was no going back now.
 
The screen blinked off and silence fell over the room. The only sound left was Lyra's quiet weeping.
 
Vic's heart sank. Drunk with happiness, he had absent-mindedly forgotten to turn the visor's parental control on. This was the reckoning.
 
He came up to the couch and whispered, "Lyra…"
 
Weeping grew into sobs. The pony curled into a ball with her back turned, and shuddered. The lack of answer was the worst of all.
 
Vic risked reaching out and touching the unicorn gently, but that blew her fuse.
 
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, jumping off the couch. "Keep your hands off me!"
 
Despair crept up his heart. He watched Lyra back away from him and didn't know what to do. What's going to happen now? Is it a behavioral program glitch? Or will Lyra refuse to associate with me? Or anyone at all?
 
"Lyra…" Vic repeated helplessly, but the pony's hysteria was in full swing.
 
"This is what you need me for, yeah?!" she cried, pointing to the visor screen. "For this?!"
 
Lyra didn't have any sleepwear on. She now stood shaking, trying to wrap herself in a blanket in fitful fruitless attempts. Telekinesis failed her: the stubborn cloth wouldn't do the right thing.
 
"No no no," the man tried to object and made another step forward, "this is not what—"
 
"Not what I'm thinking?!" the pony cut in and retreated yet another step, backing away to the door. "Don't touch! Stay away from me!"
 
"Lyra, please, listen…"
 
"I don't wanna hear it!"
 
Having screamed that, the unicorn galloped through the open door, dropping the blanket. The clatter of her hooves ended in the bathroom. She slammed the door shut and locked herself inside.
 
Silence settled in, occasionally pierced by despaired sobs.
 
This is it. This is when she is going to glitch. How did she even manage to find this? What channel is it? Oh, for the love of… It's bloody "PonyPlay'X," she just searched for "pony play!" Freaking bastards! Damn. Blast it. This is all my fault. Victor's shock was slowly turning into numbness.
 
He slid down the wall next to the bathroom door. Every sob was like a nail piercing his heart. It would have been a piece of cake to forcefully open the door or override the lock by voice control, but he didn't even consider it. When the sobbing on the other side started to run dry, he decided to speak once again.
 
"Lyra, allow me to explain…."
 
After a long pause, she answered, "Vic. You're… not going to do such… things to me. Right?"
 
"Never," he assured her instantly, "not in a million years."
 
"Promise?"
 
"Promise."
 
The lock clicked. Vic got up and opened the door. Lyra was sitting on the floor, a small puddle of tears having formed on the bathroom tiles beside her.
 
The man knelt before the pony. He wished to hug her, but was afraid to destroy that narrow bridge of trust thrown across the gap between them.
 
"Tell me this wasn't for real," the pony asked quietly, even though she knew what his answer would be.
 
"Lyra," Victor replied, squeezing out every word, "now I'm going to acquaint you with the other side of our world… I intended to do it later, but it seems I have to now. Otherwise, you probably would not understand what happened.
 
"You see, the human nature is such that destruction is an integral part of civilization. What's more, most people don't really care about one another. They only care about themselves, about how to get their pockets full and their base needs sated. And they go to any length to pursue their ends, no matter the cost.
 
"Also, nowadays there are many creatures living side by side with humans. They are supposed to bring us love and affection, but some of them are victimized by some particularly bad people.
 
"Many of us try to stand up for them, but the world is still often cruel and unfair…."
 
They talked for quite a while.
 
"I didn't want to tell you this so soon, Lyra," repeated Vic, "but there was no choice left for me. Only the truth could repair the damage, so here it is. This is how human society works. I seem to have told you about bronies, whose ranks I've recently joined. You know, the people who like little ponies. Most of them are nice guys. Sometimes they act weird, but the magic of friendship has firmly settled in our hearts. And I implore you to give us a chance. We could visit a brony club tonight. You would meet both people and ponies. You can ask ponies in case you’ve lost faith in us. Deal?"
 
An uncertain smile grew on Lyra's tear-stained muzzle.
 
"Okay…" the pony said softly.
 
Victor let out a sigh of relief.
 
The pony sniffed and stretched out her front leg. The man smiled and bumped his fist against the outstretched hoof.
 
* * *
 
To distract Lyra from her gloomy thoughts, Victor piloted his flyer around the central district of the Spires. Lyra even smiled looking at the majestic buildings which propped up the sky like white needles, their polished facets glittering in the light of the morning sun. Peeking at her in the rear view screen, Vic mentally gave a sigh of relief.
 
Soon the flyer left the downtown area and headed for a quiet suburb close to the Northern hyperloop line. The number and length of the trains also impressed Lyra, but all of a sudden she forgot all the questions she was going to ask.
 
A huge cigar-shaped stratoliner floated across the sky, heading to the main airport. Its long shadow slowly crept over the city, covering whole blocks. Lyra could not take her eyes off the gargantuan machine even though she had already seen such things on visor.
 
"I couldn't imagine they are so… big," she said with a giggle. "Someone's definitely making up for something."
 
Victor gave an uncertain chuckle. It seemed like all the technological wonders made Lyra forget about the things she had seen recently. At least, he hoped so. He intentionally plotted a course past the main airport, the sea harbor, the industrial area, the power plants, the business district and the central park.
 
Judging by the gleam in her eyes, she'd left behind her fears, at least for the moment.
 
Their final destination, however, wasn't the great shining spires of the White City far above; it was the small, hologram-decorated building of the Solaire Club, barely visible from the air.
 
The club holograms had recently been updated. The new glowing signboard boasted a stylized image of a boat riding the waves. On the boat's deck stood figures of a man and a pony.
 
The building itself was ordinary, but now Victor could see that the club was designed to resemble Canterlot Castle. Holograms of plasterwork and waterfalls, which Vic hadn't noticed before, completed its fairytale atmosphere. Vic realized he had never entered the club from the front door yet. On the sides of a wide staircase stood statues of rearing alicorns, and the door was decorated with the flag of Equestria.
 
Lyra met his gaze and smiled shyly. She clearly felt better being in familiar surroundings.
 
Having descended from the Spires, Vic felt like he'd stepped a century into the past. The streets here were divided into a sidewalk and a roadway; wheeled transport was still very common outside White City. Garbage that hadn't made it to recycling was scattered here and there. The street lights, piercing through the enormous shadow of the White City, were dim… except for the advertising banners.
 
Victor had already warned his friends he would bring his pony that noon, so that they asked one of the Pinkies to throw a party. He decided not to mention the PonyPlay channel issue for now.
 
The main hall greeted them with dimmed lights and silence. Vague outlines could be seen in the darkness, and ominous shuffling surrounded them.
 
Lyra giggled, "This reminds me of that time in Ponyville, when we arranged a…"
 
"SURPRISE!!!" boomed a chorus of voices.
 
The lights turned on. The main hall was filled with people and ponies.
 
Under the "Welcome, Lyra!" banner, in the middle of the hall, bounced… no, not a Pinkie Pie, like Victor was expecting, though all four of the club's pink ponies were there too. The partymeister's crown rested on the head of a white pegasus with purple eyes and a blonde stack of unruly curls.
 
The blonde pegasus rushed to the newcomers and announced in a loud theatrical whisper, drawing them in with her hooves: "You are thinking 'why isn't a Pinkie organizing the party'! Well, I'll tell ya!
 
“Once there were so many Pinkies at the club, they ended up bickering which of them should entertain the others. Then a white pony named Surprise—that's me, nice to meet you—joined them, and thought it would be great to make partymeister a rotating position! So everyone can be a partymeister! Just in shifts. And today is Surprise's shift! And that's me! Nice to meet you too!"
 
Serge Troyanovsky, the chairman of the club, coughed politely to stop the rushing flow of the partymeister's speech and announced, "Let's welcome Victor Stewart, one of our newcomers, who was brave enough to take in Lyra Heartstrings!"
 
People and ponies in the hall burst into rapturous cheers, applause and stomping.
 
Lyra turned her head to Victor to ask what he meant by "brave enough," but Surprise flew up to the door, and handed each one a glass of punch to get them started.
 
"Help yourselves!" she commanded with a wide smile. "We are always glad to make new friends!"
 
When the greetings were finally over, the party began in earnest, thanks to four Pinkies and one Surprise whirling like a tornado. Victor always felt a little uncomfortable on such occasions; however, he was soon dragged from Lyra by his VR friends.
 
Vic hadn't been to the club for a while, except for some occasional virtual visits. He didn't want to admit it, but he still held a grudge against Pinkie Pie McGee for her prank. It wasn't that Vic had regrets about anything, no—but the carefree attitude, of how the pink pony played him, hurt the man. What if someone really fell in love with that mischievous lass from the Net? Pinkie would break someone's heart without ever noticing.
 
Sometimes the pink ponies' carelessness seemed to be just criminal. Especially McGee's. Other Pinkies did not indulge themselves in such thoughtless behavior. Her owner, Timothy McGee, a real piece of work on his own, did nothing about it, silently encouraging her pranks. However, it was considered to be in bad taste to refuse to come to the club in person with your new pony.
 
Vic looked around. He wanted to see Steven to finally thank him personally for the silver lining to the mediocrity of his existence.
 
"Glad you finally befriended a real pony," Zelda Miras said, approaching him with a springy step. She stopped next to him and looked at Lyra. Zelda's fingers touched a cloud-shaped medallion with a rainbow lightning bolt on her neck.
 
"Ah, hello, Zelda," Vic said. "I, ahem, guess my time had come, so to speak. Heh."
 
How does she manage to startle me every time? he thought. What a gal. So gusty. How can a person be so slender and muscular at the same time? She's more rainbowy and dashy than her pegasus.
 
"So you made up your mind at last?" she asked, throwing back an unruly strand of blue hair from her forehead.
 
Vic shrugged. Truth be told, he had no idea why he finally made that purchase after a whole month of doubt. Everyone came to this at their own time, though. Some preferred not to own a real pony at all, limiting themselves to MLP-related content.
 
"You know Lyras are glitchy, right? So what's your plan?" she asked.
 
"To be careful," the man said, frowning. He immediately recalled the incident from this morning.
 
Vic was saved from this unpleasant conversation by another brony, Shannon McStout, accompanied by Big Macintosh. The red stallion chewed on something and seemed to pay little attention to the environment. However, everyone had long been used to him doing so. They knew Mac was just shy and didn't usually talk first.
 
"Hi, Vic!" said Shannon and shook his hand, "Thanks for bringing Lyra to the club. Lyra Heartstrings Stewart, how cute!"
 
As far as Victor knew, it was very hard to distinguish twin synthets. The rule of thumb was to add their masters' last names to their full names during registration. Also, bronies did their best not to dress them in the same clothes. The pastel colored horses were aware of this, and swapped their clothes to prank their owners. Pinkie Pies especially loved such pranks, since they accepted the existence of their "other selves" easier than others.
 
The Mirror Pool was the perfect excuse for doubles. It was hard to question it, at least for those ponies whose behavioral program had the "EQ" index.
 
"You don't have to use my surname," Victor replied, "There's no other Lyra in the club, right?"
 
"I remember Cynthia had one," Zelda replied, "but she moved to West Side a long time ago, so that doesn't count. I heard her Lyra's program caught a glitch. Don't know what happened to her."
 
"Hey, just look how excited the guys are!" Shannon said, a smile on her face.
 
Victor rejoiced that the conversation had shifted from a slippery topic. Looking at where his friend pointed, he saw the flustered and blushing unicorn surrounded by the club members. They bombarded her with questions.
 
He overheard strands of conversation: "…like our world?", "would you want to have hands?", "…make a pass at you? Just say the word, and we'll…"
 
Rainbow Dash dove down from the ceiling, deftly landing on all fours. Judging by her T-shirt and a baseball cap with a university logo, she was definitely Zelda's friend. Besides, it was a rare case for a rainbow-colored pegasus to wear a skirt: usually all Rainbows preferred sportswear that didn't constrain movements.
 
Zelda smiled and ruffled the pony's already dishevelled mane. "Hey, grab some juice, Dee!"
 
Dash wriggled out from under the caressing palm and stuck out her tongue. No rainbow pegasus liked the "pony-mushy stuff," though they never got angry about it for real.
 
"Na-ah," she said. "Today Dash Troyanovsky called me out to a height contest. Tomorrow, in the country. Will you come to witness my awesomeness?"
 
"You bet!" Zelda said, giving her a brohoof.
 
They are madly similar, just like twins, Victor thought. Same gestures, striking resemblance in appearance. And their eyes have that gleam when they are together. 
 
Vic smiled. Less than half a year had passed since his following the advice of Steven Aguilar and watching the first episode of the show. It was an instant hook, just like with all those people. Grown-up people, often with families, most of them from White City. What was that special something each brony found in a centuries-old two-dimensional animation? Nobody would attempt to give a conclusive answer. Studies were conducted. Some tried to prove or disprove something… just like in the past.
 
Meanwhile, bronies just made friends—both with ponies and with each other. Oftentimes, this changed them beyond recognition.
 
Lyra Heartstrings felt a little shy. She was surrounded by people who seemed to tower above her in such a crowd. Some dropped to their knees to be on the same level with her. They overwhelmed her with questions or tried to introduce themselves. The request to scratch her behind the ears drove the unicorn to blush even more, but before things escalated further, Surprise squeezed into the circle with the "make way for the partymeister!" cry. She deftly slipped between the human legs and found herself next to Lyra.
 
"I'm snatching this little Lyra out of here, guys!" she declared, then switched to a loud whisper. "We need to talk… you know, mare stuff!"
 
The crowd chuckled, and it wasn't difficult for the pegasus to lead the unicorn aside to where ponies mingled with one another.
 
"Phew." Lyra exhaled and looked in Surprise's eyes. "Thanks. I was totally lost in there."
 
"Ah, don't get angry with them," the pegasus said, winking and shaking her hoof dismissively. Her voice and her movements gave Lyra the impression she was talking to a winged Pinkie Pie rolled in flour. "The guys here are nice and fun! They are just curious and all too cheesy-huggsy when they see a new pony!"
 
Lyra couldn't even begin to imagine what could possibly unsettle the pink sweet tooth and her pegasus counterpart.
 
Surprise led Lyra to a group of club ponies. She was surrounded by familiar faces, but everypony introduced themselves anew. They all found their way to the human world the way Lyra did, but nopony cared who was a copy and who wasn't. Lyra felt she didn't care much either.
 
If an OBE bioengineer happened to be here, they would have a lot to say about emotional modulation and logical nodes of behavioral programs. Sadly there were none, so no one could come up with these nerdy matters, not even the two Twilight Sparkles that sat at a table and played some extremely convoluted logic game. The unicorns were so absorbed in the game they hardly ever found time to make their acquaintance with the new pony. It seemed that the Twilight in a blue and silver dress was winning over the Twilight in a yellow tunic.
 
"Surprise, is there a Bon-Bon in the club?" Lyra asked all of a sudden.
 
"Not now, no," the white pegasus replied, hovering two feet above the floor. "Stevie has one, but he took his herd to the sea, so she went with him. They'll return tomorrow."
 
"How do you mean 'his herd?'" asked the astounded Lyra. As far as she was concerned, a herd was an ancient type of polygamous family.
 
"Well, yeah, what else would you call lots of ponies living together?" Surprise giggled. "Steve is quite a pony collector."
 
In her mind, Lyra went back to what she had seen in the morning. One can collect stamps, pebbles maybe… but living ponies? Sentient beings? She couldn't wrap her head around it.
 
The pegasus noticed the change in Lyra's expression and poked her slightly in the side with a hoof.
 
"Lyra, you're looking at this the wrong way! Steve and his ponies are like Fluttershy and her little critters. He takes care of them, nurses them, and would never do them harm."
 
Lyra nodded, although she did not particularly believe it. She had already overheard a snatch of conversation on how Steve "might marry all his fillies eventually."
 
A soft electronic melody flowed from the DJ booth. Sure enough, having glanced there Lyra spotted Vinyl Scratch dressed in an outfit that seemed to be entirely made of golden sequins.
 
In fact, even familiar ponies seemed different when dressed. Funny how this attribute became a part of everyday life for everyone who found themselves in the human world. It even helped many ponies bearing identical looks to highlight their individuality.
 
Little by little, Victor left the partying crowd. He stood leaning against the carved column and silently observing Lyra. She made her acquaintance with so many ponies and people. How does she manage to be so open and friendly to everyone? How can she even remember all those names, while there are no unique cutie-marks to help her? You never were as good at this as she is, pal, and you probably never will, will you?
 
Meanwhile, the party rolled on. Somebody was dancing on the raised tile dance floor, saturating the background music with stomping and clatter. A sparkling disco ball spun under the high ceiling, and a few pegasi dashed around it. Others simply sat at their tables or at the bar, and enjoyed the abundance of snacks and drinks available in the menu.
 
The classic berry punch went down a treat with the clubbers. Its familiar taste brought back a lot of Lyra's fond memories of parties in now distant Equestria. There also was cider poured into huge tankards, just like it was at Sweet Apple Acres. The pony pouring it from a huge cask was, of course, Applejack in her signature stetson, now worn askew. She completed her daring look with jeans, a shirt with rolled back sleeves and a bandana around her heck.
 
Lyra was asked to join at almost every table, but after making some small talk she excused herself from the groups of merry party patrons and moved on. She couldn't shake off a feeling of uneasiness.
 
Ponies and people here looked happy and serene. They chatted merrily or played "pin the tail on the pony" or Twister, ignoring the anatomical differences. Some guy in a smart suit was busy playing chess with seemingly his own pony incarnation: the earth pony was of the same gray tint as the man's suit. Their similar hairstyles and the old-fashioned glasses on both noses further emphasized their likeness.
 
The last time Lyra saw Vic, he was talking to a tall blue-haired girl, but then he disappeared from her sight. Lyra was about to start searching for Victor in the crowd, but the partymeister came to the rescue once again. Surprise had just finished organizing another game of Twister which naturally ended in a dogpile and an uproar of laughter.
 
"Lyra!" Surprise darted at Lyra. "You have to play us something, stat!"
 
"What's the rush?" Lyra was clearly surprised. She hadn't even brought a musical instrument! For that matter, she didn't even know whether Vic had one.
 
"Because you should be the one in the spotlight at your party!" Surprise giggled and jumped into the air.
 
"But I—" She didn't have a chance to finish her phrase as the partymeister attracted everyone's attention in the simplest of ways.
 
"Hey, folks!" Surprise shouted so loud that every single head turned in her direction, and the Twister players fell to the floor. Again. "Lyra is going to play right now! The lyre-a! No, not herself, the instrument of course, tee-hee!"
 
The audience burst into applause. Under the stare of nearly a hundred eyes Lyra blushed again, but amiably trotted to the stage, which was already crammed with Vinyl's equipment.
 
The white unicorn with an electric blue mane and signature glasses covering half of her face waved her front leg at Lyra.  In a white glow of magic a low, pony-sized stool levitated to her, a familiar instrument resting on it.
 
"The previous Lyra left it," Vinyl explained from behind her console, "so have fun. You start, and I'll add some effects. And don't be afraid, everypony's a friend here."
 
A wave of applause reverberated through the hall once again. Even the restless pegasi took seats wherever they could, and the club plunged into relative silence. Vinyl touched some keys on the console with her telekinesis, and suddenly all the lights focused on the mint-green unicorn. She shuddered nervously at the sight of all the stares looking back at her.
 
The shimmering copper-colored lyre rose into the air, shrouded in pale radiance.
 
Lyra closed her eyes and imagined invisible fingers touching the strings. Although she never had fingers, somehow she knew precisely what they felt like.
 
The strings produced the first quiet sound. A tranquil, soothing motif spread across Solaire. Vinyl touched something on the console once again, and an entire invisible orchestra began to play along with the simple sounds of strings. The melody spread across the hall like a cool wind in the midday heat. Noisy a minute ago, the club turned into an island of silence, washed by the sounds of an ancient motif which Lyra had learned back in Canterlot….
 
In the dim light, one could see the people and the ponies moving closer to each other. Even the restless Pinkies calmed down and sat on their haunches, smiling and squinting in pleasure. One of the Rainbow Dashes embraced the weeping Fluttershy as a skinny guy with a freckled face stroked her pink mane. The two Twilight Sparkles paused their game and stared at the scene in astonishment. It seemed that there hadn't been a live musical performance in the club for quite a while, not one that masterful at least.
 
The dance floor also changed its appearance. Blinking to the melody, the flooring now pleased the eye with rolling waves of blue, green and yellow. A guy asked a girl for a dance. Another one asked a mare. A slow dance began.
 
Then Lyra started to sing. Just the emotions she could no longer contain flowing freely, a serene harmony. Lyra sang and wasn't noticing anything except the strings and the music pouring from them.
 
That was what she needed so bad. What all the people in the club needed so bad.
 
Surprise would be proud.
 
When the melody ended, the audience did not recover right away. Soon, the applauding people and the stomping ponies showed how hungry everyone was for real, impassioned music.
 
"Lyra, you've got to keep the instrument," Vinyl said from behind her console, "no one can play it like you."
 
The green unicorn blushed and replied, "N-no, thanks, but… it does belong to Lyra Heartstrings, but not to me. I can't…."
 
Vinyl smiled and shook her head. She didn't seem to be offended.
 
"Princess Celestia!" Surprise yelled, darting down from the ceiling.
 
Lyra flinched and turned her head, almost dropping the instrument.
 
Indeed, from a service door walked Her. Celestia, the goddess of day and light, the elder princess, the solar mare, and so forth, and so forth…
 
A fanfare of trumpets boomed from the speakers, and all bowed before the Princess.
 
Lyra noted that people dropped to one knee and bowed their heads, while ponies fell on their front legs, and she hurried to follow suit.
 
Looking up, the unicorn was involuntarily lost in adoration of her ruler. The white dress embroidered in gold seemed a bit old-fashioned, but it didn't ruin the general impression. The dress matched the ivory princess splendidly, making Lyra assume that its maker was none other than Rarity. The gold of the regalia casting specks from the lights of the club made the alicorn shine in a rainbow of colors.
 
"Rise, friends," she said softly. "I heard wonderful music and decided to join the occasion."
 
People and ponies rose. The Princess did not cause any commotion: apparently, the presence of an august person was a matter of habit for everyone. Their reaction was unlike that of the Canterlot residents who strived to pay their respects at every opportunity.
 
"Your Highness! You're here!" Lyra exclaimed. Celestia gazed upon her subject.
 
"Calm down, my little pony." She smiled, and then turned to Victor. "I will talk to her, Vic. It's all right, don't worry."
 
Lyra grinned.
 
Princess Celestia is here. Everything is going to be all right. For sure. It just can't be otherwise.
> Chapter 05
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Princess took Lyra away from the main hall. Walking beside the alicorn, unicorn couldn’t take her sparkling eyes from alicorn, noticing nothing around…
Painted door lead both ponies into big room, though not as big as the main hall. Everything here reminded of home world: furniture, designed for ponies, pillows instead of chairs, lower ceiling, stained glass windows…
A very big and fluffy carpet was occupying the center of the room, beside it were resting a pile of paper and a small computer with a printing device. Obviously, the Princess was busy with something.
“Dear Princess Celestia, today I…” — a brief glance at computer caught some words out of text.
Lyra looked around carefully.
It looked like ponies were back in Equestria, right into Canterlot Castle. A wide bed, cloaked in shadows of opposing wall, a few shelves filled with books and scrolls, a dressing table with a huge mirror. Closed cupboard filled, obviously, with clothing, and a burning fireplace, that setted home comfort atmosphere.
Yet outside of the window were not the pastoral beauties of Central Plains and Ponyville, that were seen from Canterlot Peak, but the lights of a human city.
— Do you want some tea? - asked the Princess, and Lyra nodded negatively 
— Thank you, Princess, but it’s not necessary. I’m so grateful, that You would listen me out!..
A hardly noticeable smile appeared on alicorn’s muzzle.
— You want to tell me something, my little pony, - sayed the princess, and it wasn’t a question.
— Of course! - the unicorn couldn’t figure where to start, as she was overwhelmed by emotions. — I... I am so happy to end up in human world, Your Highness, but just this morning...
— If you wish, lie down. It looks like we will have a long talk.
Alicorn circled scattered pillows with her leg, and Lyra lied down onto one of them, feeling a little shy and unconsciously choosing a green one. 
Unicorn talked, and Celestia didn’t interrupt. Little pony’s emotions were rushing between complete delight and bone-chilling horror, and she didn’t know what to do with all that... 	After some time, when Lyra was out of words, it was time for a cup of tea: Overwhelmed by flooding emotions, pony was talking fast and loud, her throat become dry. Alicorn suggested to take a break.
Lyra was sitting on the floor beside the rug, that was replacing the desk. Princess filled the cups with tea, and levitated plate with cake from buffet. Another plate came down in front of Lyra. The unicorn gratefully smiled, and bowed her head.
— Your Highness, — Lyra sayed a little after, — I’m so happy that you listened to me, but… Please, tell me, how did You end up here? 
Alicorn smiled, yet her smile was bitter.
— I couldn’t send my little ponies, even ones from the Mirror Pool to a fate, I haven’t experienced myself… — she answered, and added — unfortunately, there is no way back to Equestria. It truly was a wise decision not to go here by myself…
— You too are from the Mirror Pool?! — Lyra nearly choked on tea.
— Your friend is worried about you, Lyra, — the princess changed the topic of conversation, — And taking into account that I heard, you need something more, than explanations.
— Yes! Your Highness, it’s…
— Trust me, my little pony, there is a lot of good people in this world, and the best, that ponies can give back are friendship and love. And throughout both series, ponies gave humans a lot of both.
Lyra closed eyes, and again saw grim casemate, filled with muffled moans and whip strikes. 
“You’re bad, bad pony!” — rude voice echoed through memories…
— If ponies gave people so much love and friendship, why some of them treat us like that? — unicorn quietly asked. 
The Princess took a deep breath and hesitated, before giving an answer. 
— Many people just can’t understand what ponies want to teach them. Or their understanding is twisted. But we can’t turn on them because of that.
— But why? — Unicorn almost started to cry, but held back — Where did this loathing came from? 
— That’s just it, Lyra Heartstrings, —  There was pain in alicorn’s voice, — Many of the people cloak their love in such an ugly form. Just because they don’t know any other way. 
— But if people distort meaning of kindness so much, what can we do?
— We? We can bring love and friendship. As we were doing hundreds of years ago. And if just one of them would change, it would mean our victory.
— But Princess! You haven’t seen that Fluttershy!..
Celestia hugged Lyra with her wing, (and rested her head on top of Lyra’s head). 
— I saw a lot, my little pony, — Celestia whispered — Even things I would prefer never to see. But since this evil exists, we can’t pretend that it doesn’t. Besides, you are partly right, and some people just hate anybody, who doesn’t look like them. But it there were no ponies, they would hate someone else. Sadly, this is the part of most people’s nature.
Alicorn felt how unicorn under her wing started to shiver due to coming tears.
— But why won’t You interrupt, Princess? — Lyra asked — There was so much pain, so much fear! It’s like I was there myself, in that dungeon, to be tortured by monsters in the guise of human… 
Celestia took a breath, as if unicorn raised a very heavy topic. When Alicorn spoke, her voice was full of feebleness: 
— Lyra, I’m princess only within the walls of “The Lighthouse”. Bronies venerate and respect me, but, essentially, they are the hosts here. Everything is different of the club. For the good being of my little ponies, and those, whom we gave the light of friendship, I’ve accepted it. Magic cannot move the Sun and Moon around in this world.
— But what about other ponies? — Lyra asked, — Do they have to suffer because of humans’ vices?
— One can’t just fill the world, sunken in darkness, with light. Unfortunately, “Do everything right” spell doesn’t exist neither in Equestria, nor here.
Lyra didn’t look up. One by one, bitter tears started to shed onto the carpet.
— But Fluttershy… She was in such pain…
— Within the walls of “Ponyplay” much worse things happen. And worst of all, some ponies took an awful example from such people… — Celestia sighed, — But we can stop it only with kindness and love. There is no other way.
— I saw that word - “Ponyplay” on a TV ad… What is it?
— A very, very bad place, Lyra. Ponies and humans gather there too, but… They are different. Do you know, what I mean? That kind behavior is considered normal there.
— Princess, Your magic…
— Is weak here, as your. I think, it because the source of my powers - the Sun, located much, much further. However it’s my hypothesis, and it’s hard to prove.
— But the Sun here is just a little bit smaller, than Equestria’s!
— Oh, Lyra… The Sun here is so big, it is hard to even imagine. It appears small, because it is in an unthinkable distance.
Lyra raised her desperate gaze upon Celestia.
— But what can we do then, Princess Celestia? How can I accept all of this? 
— You can take care of your friend, Victor. Then darkness will take a tiny step back, and when Victor will bring the magic of friendship to his family and friends, that tiny step will become wider. Majority of people does not believe in magic of friendship, but it does exist, and it is as powerful as in Equestria. Wonders can happen even here, in this gloomy world of technology.
Lyra let it sink for a few seconds, then closed her eyes and hugged solar alicorn.
— Thank you, your majesty, — she whispered, swallowing tears, — it’s all that was bothering me. It was just eating me from inside. I couldn’t imagine, that humans’ world could be brought before me like that.
Celestia smiled, supporting minty-green unicorn with her wing. In moments like this, she could believe, that she is the one, who others prefer to think about.

***

When Lyra and Celestia left, Victor got nervous.
Alicorn, obviously, was a synth. Bronies from the club chipped in to buy her, gathering money for several years. Also, princess didn’t have “EQ” index, and knew the truth from the beginning. When she’d  got settled, she accepted the rules, and started to help ponies and people with advice when needed.
Celestia become the beacon around which gathered those, who lit their fire of friendship, in the darkness of apathy.
By sorting out mail, by helping and supporting, Celestia has become the spiritual leader of people, who called themselves “Brony”, and also become the bearer of Equestria’s spirit for ponies, who came into reality from the lands of wonders.
Victor knew it, but still couldn’t calm down.
— Had you already told her, in what kind of world she came? — Shannon asked Victor.
— So far, mostly the good things, — he answered — But warned her about us eating meat, and that we tended to make war a lot. She reacted kinda calmly.
— “Kinda” ?
— Without tantrums, cries, and jumping out of window. 
Maxtaut shaked his head:
— Alright, then. I mean, you shouldn’t throw everything at her at one time…
When doors opened again, Lyra was there. And as Victor’s eyes met with the shining glance of Lyra’s golden eyes, he felt relief.
Pony run towards kneeling Victor and flew into his arms, hugging and nuzzling him.
— I’m so sorry, please, forgive me, — she whispered, ignoring cheering rumble around — For being scared, for not trusting you! You are my friend! The first and the best friend in this world of humans! Please, promise me, that you won’t leave me…
Victor, got rid of a lump in his throat, stroked pony’s silky mane and whispered into twitchy ear:
— I will never let you go. I promise. And forgive us for this cruel world... 
Some of present delicately turned away. Some watched, and didn’t hide tears. One of Pinkies, dressed in white and red dress started to cry. Two bronies started comfort her.
Victor hugged slightly trembling Lyra, and warmth of gratitude to Celestia filled his heart. She always managed to deal with “Equestria-borns”, and Lyra wasn’t an exception.
Unicorn felt, how human firmly hugged her to his chest. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry.
— hey-hey-hey! — Surprise spoke — Why there is sadness on the party? Not on my watch!
White pegasus swooped down from somewhere above, and blew three horns at once. Lyra and Victor, almost jumped because of surprise, instantly were given party-hats. Partymaker flew up, and sang to the funky music: 

	— Why you all have to be sad?
	Why are you looking down?
	Smile, dance a little,
	And laugh for a while! 

 	Burst of applause and laughter were the answer. Lyra smiled, turned to Victor, and met his eyes. He smiled in answer.
— And now - fun! — declared Surprise — No objections! 
No one even wanted to… 

*** 
Flyer took them late at night. Lyra, which were taken into every dance and game by Surprise, fell asleep in the flyer’s cabin. Victor was yawning himself, so he’d turned on the autopilot. Last thing he needed, is to smash into one of the Spires. Electronics would take control in that situation, of course, but dealing with air-police would be a pain.
When they came home, Victor took pony to the sofa, and laid her down without taking off her clothing, in order not to bring back morning fears. He put blanket over the unicorn, left the room and started preparing for the night…
Victor had almost fallen asleep, when he heard clatter of hooves, muffled by a rag.
He tried to fall back to sleep, but the soft voice of the unicorn intruded his dreams: 
— Vic, are you asleep?
— No, — he answered and turned to the pony. Their faces were on the same level now — Something happened? 
Unicorn looked a little embarrassed. 
— I… Can I sleep with you today? — she asked, looking away — I… I’m still feeling bad after what I had sawn this morning.
Victor’s heart missed a beat, he moved a bit and got up on his elbow.
— Of course, Lyra, hop on.
When Lyra lied down, Victor noticed, that she changed her clothings to a long and baggy t-shirt, that was covering her down to the tail. Lyra lied with her back toward Victor, but even her presence here was a miracle. 
— Hug me, please. — She asked very quietly, and with a smile, Victor put his hand on her flank.
They hadn’t spoken a word, and Victor fell asleep, feeling pony’s heartbeat under his hand and breathing minty mane. Thinking about what a great gesture of trust was her deed.
Lyra didn’t fall asleep right away. 
She had came here for several reasons. The first was what she said to Victor, it wasn’t a lie. But there were other reasons that she didn’t mention.
She wanted to test, if human would try to molest her after what he had sayed. And get over herself, get over the fear, that was instilled by human culture.
Minute by minute the time passed. Victor didn’t even try to get under her t-shirt, to forbidden places, though one of them, close to the horn, was just a few centimeters away from his face.
But Victor’s breath soon become deep and calm, and his arm, that was on Lyra’s flank, relaxed and got heavier.
Pony calmed down, her thoughts gradually become ones about safety, and tiredness took over...

***

— ... Victor!!! — Loud voice woke him up as good as cannon fire — What does this mean?!
He jumped up on his bed, sleepily blinking. Beside him, with the same face expression, sat Lyra, obviously woken up by the voice.
At the bedroom doors stood his mother - mrs Sally Stewart dressed in unchanging outfit - jeans and snickers. Her lush hair pulled into a ponytail, sunglasses resting in top of the head - classical image of a housewife... Misleading impression. She was co-owner and commercial director of family business inheritor of which Victor will become. 
But only if you would become at least little successful by himself - that was the only condition. 
— Dear, what’s happening?! — came father’s voice from the corridor — I’ll be in a second!
Steps came closer, and John Stewart, the head of the family himself, showed up. Muscular, square-built man in his 40s, actually was almost 70 years old, and took a nano-rejuvenate courses. Victor knew firsthand, that his dad was not only a good businessman, but also a hunter and a boxer. 
Victor’s childhood was full of hiking and sports training, but his father didn’t make him do it, rather he inspired Victor by his own example. He was a man, that Victor could rely on any time.
— Victor, Sally, is this what I think it is? — mr Stewart looking at his son and a pony. 
— No! — Simultaneously said Victor and Lyra.
Victor felt, how he blushes. He knew, that his parents had the keys, but he didn’t expect them to show up today. It’s been 4 years since Stewart Jr. left, to make his own life, but parents were still helping and visiting their son, who, because of being lacking on business grasp, already beared two finance fiascos. Victor decided to apply for a proper job, to prevent third fiasco and gather some experience.
— Mom, Dad, — Victor didn’t come up with something better, than introduction — Meet Lyra Heartstrings. Lyra, say hello to my parents - John and Sally. Mr and Mrs Stewart...
Mom pursed her lips and took an ice-cold look at Lyra.
— Sweetie, I understand, that you are a grown man, and you have needs... But for the sake of all things holy, couldn’t you find yourself a normal woman? I haven’t noticed your odd tastes before!
— Please, don’t talk like I do not exist, — quietly said Lyra, — I am an intelligent creature!
— This plushy even talks... — ruefully said mrs Stewart, but the father stepped in: 
— Sally, go to the living room, I will talk to him. Like a man with a man. Ok?
Smile appeared on Sally’s face.
— Dear, you’re the best! — She said and left the room.
— There was nothing between me and Lyra... — Victor started, but father raised a hand and called to silence.
— We don’t judge others tastes, son... And if you like your horsie... — he threw a glance on Lyra — Lyra, right? Then, God bless you, I will accept your choice. And I mean it. You are a smart cookie, and won’t date with just anyone, and the bed is your personal choice. We live in a modern society, and moral decline of it is not fault of synths, but you do understand, that I want to see grandchildren, right? Preferably not foals, and preferably without visiting another rejuvenation. Did you get it?
Victor could only squeeze out:
— I presume, it’s useless to repeat, that we are just friends, right? 
He looked at Lyra, who covered her muzzle with blanket and was red as beetroot.
— Of course, son, — elder Stewart smiled, and patted son on his head. — Your dad have lived 4 times longer than you. And, as I’ve said, I won’t interfere with your feeling. Just promise me, that you will think about the other perspective. Ok?
— Okey, — Victor smiled, he expected at least a thunder.
— Thank you, mr Stewart — Lyra said — But we really are just friends. I just got cold during the night.
John smiled looking at pony’s giant golden eyes
— And Victor didn’t show how to use AC?
Lyra got caught and dropped her ears.
Mr Stewart smiled patronizingly.
— Never lie to elders, girl. I’m sure, that you weren’t the one, who initiated the whole progress. But trust me when I say, that I won’t judge neither you, nor Victor. I always taught him, that live is a 
sequence of choices. And everyone chooses for himself.
— Sorry — The unicorn peeped
— Think as you wish, but we ended up  in the same bed
 not for the reason which you and mother think of. — Declared Victor.
He wanted to add something, but mrs Stewart peeked through ajar door.
— I hope, you’ve explained everything to him? — She asked.
— Of course, dear — John answered, and conspiratorially winked to his son, — Could it even be otherwise?
— Then get up, and make yourself presentable, — She demanded — We hadn’t came here for no reason.
When Victor and Lyra have entered living room, parents were drinking coffee. The table was full of sweets, and holovision were muttering something about last stock summaries. 
Lyra she put on a tunic, that gave her kind of an ancient appearance. She managed to comb herself, and definitely were trying to make a good impression.
Family sat around the table, and Lyra lay down beside Victor’s armchair.
— Would be presence cause trouble? — Asked pony, glancing from mr Stewart to mrs Stewart.
Before Sally could say anything, John spoke:
— No it wouldn’t. Do you want some coffee?
— Thank you — shyly whispered pony.
Inner struggling showed on mrs Stewart's face.	She definitely was annoyed by pony, but didn’t want to make a scene.
Cup, filled by John got cloaked in telekinetic glow, and flew to pony, which were pretending that she is watching H.V.
Victor painted a smile. Mr Stewart sipped from his cup and said:
— Let's get straight to the point, son. Your grandfather wants everyone to gather up a month earlier.To be exact - today.
— Today? — Asked Victor, — Had something urgent happened?
— I’d sent you mail yesterday, — Noted John. — But it looks like you were not in the mood. 
— And now we know why, — Added Sally, and forcibly smiled to Lyra — Victor, I hope you won’t bring your... Pony with you, will you? 
— I think, my presence on a family meeting would be... Odd — Unicorn raised her voice.
Mr Stewart smiled.
— I’m glad, that we understood each other, — He said — Victor, get yourself ready, you will fly right behind us.
Victor looked at his parents. Why would Grandfather, the Patriarch of a small family clan, decided to call them all to his mansion, located in the middle of Siberia, where he’d lived for the last 50 years?
“It’s october - thought Victor - Brr... I hate snow...”
However, knowing Grandfather, there was no doubt, that the reason was extraordinary. 
— Alright. Give me half an hour.
— Our flyer is right beside your, — said mother, standing up — Just don’t mess around.
When parents left, Lura walked up Victor, stood on her hind legs, and leant on his chest with her front legs.
— Victor, Had something happened?
He found strength to smile.
— Aside from the fact, that we were spotted in one bed, and now parents think nonsense? 
Light-green hoof lightly bumped his chest, and blush appeared muzzle. In this proximity it was noticeably, that it was fur becoming red.
— You’ve perfectly understood, that I wanted to say! — Giggled unicorn.
— Grandfather is the head of our family — Victor started to explain — and the head of the family’s business. No one knows, how is he, but at least he is 120 years old. There was no Gigapolises, only The Great Building... But whatever. Grandfather never does something for no good reason. And if he wants to gather up whole family, I must go there, and probably be there till late night. Going there and back, and gathering itself... It will take some time.
There was slight annoyance in his voice. He wanted to spend the day with the pony, become friends with her for real. Get rid of that feeling of loneliness, that was building up until his soul was touched by the beautiful world of Equestria...
Lyra dropped down on all 4 and archly looked at Victor.
— If you are going to leave for the whole day, then can I... Go for a walk? — She asked.
Victor got slightly confused by the question. Not that she was in any danger outside. There was many “free” synths with green registration in White City, and in Gigapolis in general, who didn’t have owner and were living for themselves. Besides, damage to someone’s else property probably would cause court trial, and Lyra was registered in White City. 
On the other hand, she was so naive, that Victor didn’t want to leave her alone.
“She is not a prisoner” - he cut his train of thought and said to Lyra: 
— Alone? Well... Only in White City, so you’ll be out of danger. Or take a taxi, and visit “The Lighthouse”, would it be okay?
— Yes! But.. I’m scared of being lost...
— Don’t worry, — He stroke her mane, and tapped on pony’s occiput —  You have... a magical mark here. It says, who are you, where do you live and all that kind of stuff. If you will get lost, just approach a policeman, and ask for directions.
Lyra smiled, and shyly poked floor with her hoof.
— Victor, I’m embarrassed to ask... But could you give some coins?
— Coins?.. Of course, here — He reached his pocket, and pulled out some bills. Money got cloaked with telekinetic glow, floating in air. — Look, there are numbers, that depict, how much each piece of paper worth. 
— Thank you... Is this a lot? 
— Enough, to have a good day — He smiled, and ruffled pony’s mane, — Also, is not accepted to bargain is this world.
— Why? — Lyra genuinely got surprised. She looked up — It is so natural!
— To be fair, vending machines won’t even accept less. And salespeople do not have any control on cost. Also, there is no bazaars in Spires.
— Alright, then — Said pony, and put money into her pocket. — Then so be it. But it’s confusing.
— Have a good time. Just be cautious, alright?
— Alright, — Pony promised, looking directly into human’s eyes.
— You could also visit “Galaxy-Plaza” — Victor recommended — There definitely will be something, that can interest you. When I was a child, I wished to live in that castle filled with VR, attractions and cafes. And you won’t even need to leave the Spires, where it’s safe. 
Lyra didn’t answer, only smile.
Victor didn’t know, that the unicorn already had a plan...
> Chapter 06
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening, the hovertaxi landed at an unremarkable house in the southern district of the Grey City, near the skyscrapers-needles of the White City. The high towers shined in dusk like fairy-like torches lighting up streets of lower levels better than any kind of illumination.

“Pony-Play” -- this was the discreet sign hung above a heavy door, between the pillars. A brawny man in jeans and a guard's jacket walked back and forth beside it. His heavy boots made the same heavy sounds with every step.

Lyra paid the taxi driver and walked up to it. She was overtaken by a man and a pony. In the twilight, the unicorn couldn’t discern who it was, but both of them were in a hurry.

When the door opened, music and noise came from inside, the type of music usually appropriate for the wildest fun.

Surely that’s Pinkie Pie, making a party with or without an occasion, thought the unicorn with a smile.

The fact that Victor had not harassed her the previous night, as well as the Princess's words, came into sharp conflict with what she had seen. Lyra decided that she should figure everything out by herself and at the same time arrange for herself another test of courage.

She had imagined dark torture chambers, filled with imprisoned ponies. A black castle, an ominous manor, or a tower of evil wizard… However “Pony-Play” was a common building, with a none-too-catchy holographic sign and a gray facade typical for the area. Windows, glittering with sprays of reflective paint, polished to a mirror-shine, hid what was happening inside, but the club did not stand out on a brightly lit street full of round-the-clock establishments.

The bored guard at the entrance stared, a little surprised at the mint-green pony walking alone into the club. It wasn’t weird by itself -- many synthets liked such pastimes. But this pony reminded him of a schoolgirl from the White City, one that had escaped from educators: strict suit, neat hairstyle, wide-open naive eyes, and no trace of cosmetics on the muzzle…

“Good evening, sir, may I come in?” she asked, her head slightly tilted to one side.

The guard, on whose chest was a badge with the name “Jack”, overcame his surprise and ran a scanner over the pony’s head. It blinked with a blue indicator -- the mark was ok, the pony was neither free nor ownerless.

“Where is your master, filly?” Jack couldn’t resist asking “Inside?”

“No,” the unicorn was slightly embarrassed, “My... friend has no idea where I am.”

The human smiled and jokingly shook his finger.

“You’re a naughty pony if you’re going in such places without asking. If I were him, I’d give you a good beating if I knew where you were going.”

Lyra, whose heart sank after the first of Jack’s words, could barely restrain herself from stepping back.

Vic would never hit me she wanted to reply but said something completely different.

“So...can I come in?”

“Oh, ‘course,” Jack stepped aside “Come on in. Rainbow runs wild today... again. Have fun.”

“Thank you, sir,” sang the unicorn with girlish voice, before she joyfully clattered inside, telekinesis sliding the revolving door.

Jack grinned.

It seemed that this pony didn’t know where she was going…

Quickly passing a small hall, Lyra Heartstrings found herself in the vast room, filled with the uneven light of strobing lamps. 

The center was a dais, surrounded by a circular recess, and directly above which was a stage, hanging over the room and its deep pit, like a rock.

The rest of the free space, which was shaped like a horseshoe, was occupied by tables and sofas, separated by low partitions into cozy nooks. Actually, “Pony-Play” seemed much larger than the Solaire Club, and there were clearly more people. And ponies.

But that was not the main difference.

Lyra was a little uncomfortable when she first saw the pony-waitress. A blue unicorn with a white mane, she quickly passed by, carrying a tray of five foaming mugs in the glow of magic. She was dressed in high black socks with embroidered stars and a rather frivolous harness that left little room for the imagination. Her croup was covered by a short skirt, lifting by the tail and hiding only the cutie mark.

Lyra, who swiftly got used to humans’ customs, thought that  these ponies were dressed to immodestly. Every intelligent being in this world dressed themselves, after all, but these waitresses barely did. 

All the other waitresses were dressed exactly the same, except in different colors that were in harmony with their coat. None of those present gave a damn about this, and the unicorn decided that it was common here. 

Something thundered from the side of the stage, and tongues of flame mixed with fireworks soared into the air. A man in a black suit and a top hat on his head appeared on the dais, raised his hands and proclaimed, “And now, ladies and gentlemen, mares and gentlecolts, we have an occasion to listen to our very own celebrity -- Rainbow Dash, the one and only! Welcome!”

The audience burst into applause and tramping, whistling and hooting. A few pegasi flashed through the air, and Lyra noticed that all of the Rainbow Dashes that were present tried to fly away from the stage. 

The only? thought the unicorn, That’s interesting, is that really?... The first one? Or just a braggart?

The first chords of the music pounded, but for Lyra it was like dead silence. In the strobing light of the special effects, the mint pony examined the other ponies who were in the club. 

At first glance, there were no essential differences from the “Solaire”-- except for the decorations, maybe. Well, the music was more dynamic. Also the pony-waitresses, again. 

But Lyra could see what the main difference was.

In that small corner of Equestria, there were happy friends gathered under the wing of the Sun Princess, and the eyes of both ponies and humans glowed with similar joy and fun. Here...

Here Lyra could notice that there were no happy smiles. Malevolent and mocking ones -- yes, no doubt, but nobody seemed to be having actual fun.

Many ponies here were barely dressed, even compared to the almost naked waitresses. Defiant and sometimes pointedly strict outfits of aggressive colors only made the effect stronger.

Some of the ponies did not move - the ones that sat next to people on leashes and chains leading to collars or halters. And it didn’t seem that these attributes of subordination were put on willingly.

Her heart throbbed violently on her ribs at the sight of the ponies, bridled and twisted with black belts. It was in their eyes that most often flashed fear or indifference, and they almost didn’t participate in the reigning fun around. They only glanced at some other ponies, looked at the stage, or one of the screens. And the people sitting nearby, often holding the ends of leashes and bridles in their hands, paid almost no attention to their captives.

Lyra flinched whenever she saw this or met another hunted down look. Obviously, many ponies here were just slaves. And Celestia knows how far people went in such “entertainments”. Quite far, it seemed.

Her imagination thought up bad people, of capturing ponies in slavery where they were waiting for a tragic fate…

“You are a bad, bad filly!” -- again flashed through her head.

At this time Rainbow Dash appeared on the stage, clutching an electric guitar in her front legs. Spreading her wings for balance, she looked around at everyone present. The roar of discordant heavy music, which stun the unaccustomed unicorn, played.



The rainbow pegasus started to sing. At the limit of her vocal cords, even closing her eyes from the tension. The familiar voice sounded with some strange intonations as if something bad and gloomy was settled in the soul of the performer:

— Покажи же мне, как лгать,
Ведь тебе равных не сыскать,
Искусству судьбами играть
Не так-то сложно научить.
Ввернешь одно словцо -
И результат уж налицо,
Ты растворяешься в толпе –
Уже кого-то идут бить...

Lyra was ready to swear that this Rainbow Dash was bursting with wild delight. And if not for her singing being filled with spiteful aggression, maybe the mint unicorn would have found even such music attractive.

At that time Rainbow hit the strings of the roaring guitar and raised her voice, although it seemed it was the limit of possibilities.

Пляши же, гад, пляши,
Жизнь за сущие гроши.
Никто так не узнал,
Почем кому ты их сдавал.

И вот опять ты улизнешь,
Его с дороги уберешь,
Молодец, так держать!
Далеко же ты пойдешь!

There was a pause in the song, allowing the vocalist to catch her breath. But it seemed that Rainbow would fly up from her rapture, closing her eyes and completely surrendering to the roaring music.

“I’m afraid all the tables are taken today,” someone suddenly said beside her, and Lyra almost jumped.

Turning her head, she saw a young black-haired man in a suit with a badge, informing her that the person in front of her is the administrator Harlon.

“Excuse me, what?” asked Lyra, trying to out-shout the music from the speakers and the screams of the audience.

“Today all the tables are occupied,” the man repeated louder with an artificial flattering smile, “Because the Rainbow Dash is having fun and wasting money for three days in a row. I can only offer you a seat at the bar.”

Lyra was uncomfortable with his gaze. Not that he was openly staring or undressing her with his eyes, the unicorn just felt uncomfortable.

“That’s... great, mister... uh... Harlon,” she mumbled and walked carefully to the center of the room. The administrator, holding a hand over the pony's head, redid the guard’s gesture and was surprised by the blue indicator on the bracelet.

Rainbow Dash from the stage joyfully and shouted under the hysterical roar of power tools. She was helped by the stocky man on a drum set and a creature resembling a dragon with human proportions. The strange keyboard instrument, like a mixture of a guitar and a piano, in his clawed paws seemed quite unnatural, although it sported spiked-scaly dragon paraphernalia.

— С этой ложью без конца,
Не открыв лица,
Бей их прямо между глаз!
Бей их прямо между глаз!
И вот ты уходишь прочь,
Говорить не в мочь,
Глаза молнией искрят -
Врагов твоих разят!

Я покидаю их ряды,
Жертв бессмысленной вражды,
Сыграй теперь со мною, друг,
Ведь эта сцена про меня!
Посмотри же впереди -
Это плата за грехи,
А не получишь, что хотел -
Знай, это все из-за меня!

Пляши же, гад, пляши,
Жизнь за сущие гроши.
Никто так не узнал,
Почем кому ты их сдавал.

И вот толпу ты за собою
Ведешь за светлою мечтою.
Молодец, так держать"
Далеко же ты пойдешь!


One of the three bars located in the “Pony-Play” was very close to the recess in the center, which now looked like it was filled with ink darkness.

Passing by the cavern with tables, Lyra threw the resting people and ponies curious glances, trying however, not to make it look too impolite. 

Rainbow on the stage, meanwhile, had gone wild, and her voice hoarse with anguish sang the last words of the song.

— С чередою небылиц,

Герой бесчисленных страниц,

Бей их прямо между глаз!
Бей их прямо между глаз!
И вот ты уходишь прочь,
Говорить не в мочь,
Глаза молнией искрят -
Врагов твоих разят!


(http: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLhk0MdW9Fo — hear Dash sing on the stage in English)

Rainbow stopped singing and gave herself to the music. Now, when it wasn’t possible to either turn it off or down, Lyra suddenly caught herself thinking that she had even begun to like this kind of music. To some degree.

Lyra noticed a thin man in jeans and a sweatshirt kissing Applejack in one of the nooks. The earth pony, having her eyes closed and her hat on the back of her head, hugged the man with her front legs. He, in turn, hugged the pony with his hand, and the second one was feeling around her back, which covered with a plaid shirt. The tail, sticking out of her tight jeans and tied with a red rubber band, was swinging back and forth, not being too chastely.

The unicorn looked away a bit embarrassed, and continued on her way. She felt her muzzle started to redden. Looking closer, Lyra saw a lot of such acts, and others even more vulgar. And ponies. And people. Together and with each other. Or all at once. Kisses and vulgar embrace, hands and hooves, fumbling over bodies. Even ear-biting. Thank Celestia, Lyra hasn’t met any entirely explicit scenes, like that frightening show. 

Although some alcoves of the club were tightly closed off by folding partitions, Lyra had no wish to imagine what was beyond them.

It was quite wrong to do in a public place, something which was customary only to happen between the most special friends. It's one thing to affectionately poke a muzzle or hug a friend, or even a peck on the cheek. But a kiss on the lips or to even bite an ear -- it was a little indecent. And, as Lyra realized, among humans, such acts were even stricter.

Then why were the people and ponies behaving like this here?

The unicorn went to the bar, where people and ponies were sitting on high chairs. For the latter, the furniture was too tall and not too comfortable, but Lyra was used to sitting like a human in Equestria, hanging her tail.

The bartender, a stocky man with noble gray in his dark hair, reminded Lyra of an elderly earth pony. The same calm strength, full of dignity, far from wasted over the years.
“What will you have, young filly?” the man asked, setting aside the mug he was wiping with a clean cloth.

“Uh, cider?” Lyra asked with a blush, feeling like a colt who had run away from his parents for a night dance.

The human grinned, and after a couple of seconds a huge glass mug topped with foam stood in front of the pony. The pleasant aroma of sour apples tickled her nostrils. The handle was familiar to ponies, although to Lyra, as a unicorn, it was not too important.

Lyra barely had time to drink a good cider before she was about to talk to someone at the bar, but the music abruptly stopped. The audience burst into applause, stomping, and cheering.

“Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash!” chanted several voices.

The blue pegasus threw the guitar away and jumped down in one motion. The light of the floodlights followed, and Lyra heard the voice of the man in black again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, mares and gentleponies! Make your bets! The evil creature of darkness will be put in a fight against the Rainbow Dash! Bane Blade Preston, a bat pony, warrior of the night!”

Lyra shuddered. She had only heard about thestrals, a legendary race of bat ponies. And what does it mean: put in a fight against Rainbow Dash? Were they going to have a competition? Under a roof?

What happened next plunged Lyra into a state of mild shock.

A huge stallion in armor, who got up on the stage, attacked the azure pegasus to the roar of the crowd.



Obeying the gestures of unfamiliar yellow-green winged pony on the turntable, the music struck, as if specifically designed for this moment. The pegasus vaguely reminded Lyra of Vinyl Scratch. It even seemed that she specifically copied DJ Pon-3, and quite successfully, in her eyes.

(http: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW1-pN7pfsw — Rainbow Dash, Fighting is magic, arena’s theme)


The unicorn watched with rounded eyes as the night pony chased after Rainbow with a roar, who was repeatedly raining down on him a hail of hoof attacks. The bat pony kept up, and the ponies were exchanging blows with incredible speed and fury. 

It just stunned her. Ponies, peaceful creatures of the kind world, fighting on a stage for someone’s entertainment? Of course, pegasi were the descendants of great warriors, and the winged ponies have kept many martial arts which had given birth to breathtaking competitions in strength and agility.

However, the times when one pony really raised a hoof on another had sunk into oblivion thousands of years ago, along with Dark Ages, when Discord was sowing hatred and odium for his joy.

Lyra, looking on the fighting gladiators, thought,Well, those monsters were specially designed for this purpose, though battles for entertainment are savagery in its purest form. But ponies? And Rainbow Dash?!

The fight in the arena was absolutely serious. Hits weren't held back, roars and screams let out by both ponies, were full of genuine pain and wrath. Sometimes red spray swept through the air when hard hoofs hit on their pelts, leaving abrasions and bruises.

"This is for Spitfire, rainbow bitch!" growled the night pony, slamming his hoof into Rainbow's nose.

Red splashed through the air. The pegasus flew off to the very outer rim of the arena. With choked curses, she stood up and spat blood onto the dirty floor.

On the flashing holographic scoreboard was glowing the number of bets. The azure pegasus obviously was on top.

"On the Rainbow Dash!" yelled Pinkie Pie, dressed in a white suit with a shining with million tinsels. The girl next to her, dressed similarly, echoed the pink pony, and both were giving the man with a tall hat more and more money, which joined the yet more as it traveled down the esophagus of some grotesque machine.

“On the Bain Blade!” roared a big man, holding a leash, on the end of which sat a dejected Fluttershy. The mane of the yellow pegasus was braided in a brush (or ponytail, as she would later learn) and her muzzle was hidden behind a leather mask.

The gong sounded and the betting stopped. Rainbow Dash seemed to be waiting for this. Soaring into the air, she dove on the bat pony like a rainbow vortex. He desperately fought back with his hooves and tried to grab the pegasus with his sharp teeth, but she didn’t seem to feel any pain. Having missed a felling blow in the chest and the jaw, Rainbow hobbled the hefty stallion, having clamped down on his membranous wings and front legs. 

For a while the stallion snarled and struggled, but Rainbow Dash, under another wave of enthusiastic shouts, tightened her grip. Bain Blade, howling, buried his face in the sand of the arena.

“I’m going to be kind today!!”  Rainbow shouted, so that it could be heard by the audience, “I'm not even going to kill you! So live, sucker, and remember my kindness. And that you couldn’t avenge that yellow bitch Spitfire!”

With those words, she jerked up the howling night pegasus and sent him flying towards the wall of the arena with a rakish kick.

The bat pony, whose helmet had been knocked off during the fight, hit his head on the side and crumpled to the floor without any movement. The stands roared, and their cries were drowned out by the indignant cry of Bain Blade’s master, the loud announcement of the winner by the man in the top hat, and the battle cry of Rainbow Dash herself. 

The azure pegasus flew up and made a loop under the high ceiling, suddenly landed right beside Lyra Heartstring, who was frozen in horror.

Now the unicorn could take a close look at that Rainbow Dash.

The famous rainbow mane was cut short and stuck out with a short crest. In the ear of the pegasus gleamed the ring of a piercing, and around her eyes was some defiantly bright eyeshadow, miraculously not flowing even after the fight. Dash's skintight outfit consisted of black leather and did not cover her legs. The worst part, however,  was that the entirety of her skin was covered with the uneven stripes of healed scars. One of the largest even had  broken up the pattern of her cutie mark. A little above each hoof Rainbow wore wide bracelets with spikes. At the sight of the red-smeared sharp pieces of metal, Lyra felt sick. But the pegasus contemptuously sneered again and spit to the side, slamming a hoof on the counter.

“Sam, damn it! How long will this poor filly suffer from thirst?”

The bartender smiled and a glass with ice went along the counter to Dash, and a rectangular bottle of brownish liquid soon did the same.

“Applejack Daniels,”  the label said. Above the inscription proudly shone the emblem of Equestria and a stylized apple of "Sweet acres".

The pegasus splashed some liquid into the glass and drained it in one gulp. And one more. And more. Sniffing, Lyra realized with horror that Rainbow Dash was pumping herself up with something much stronger than cider right here and now.

“Ah… Heartstrings,” the pegasus said suddenly, as if she had only now noticed Lyra. “I haven’t seen your mint mug here for a while.”

“I'm here for the first time…” said the confused unicorn, but Dash interrupted:

“I don’t give a shoot. As you can see, there is a lot of me here.” Lyra looked around, and indeed, quite often in the crowd flashed a rainbow mane and blue fur. “But it doesn’t make this sub-rainbows veritable, does it?”

“What’s the party about?” Lyra asked, changing the subject, calling a smile to the face of this strange Rainbow Dash, like when a foal recalls his recent birthday…

“Freedom, Heartsrings,” spoke the azure pony, “Luna-damned freedom! I've been going wild like this for three days. The show must go on, motherfucker!”

The hoof slammed on the counter again, leaving a banknote on it. Lyra spotted that after that performance, nobody had come up to Dash to either congratulate or to express gratitude for such a specific, but exciting, contest.

“Rainbow, why do you fight in the arena?” asked Lyra, “Is it necessary?”

“At first, the owner made me, after I got in. For years it was almost the only place where I could let off steam.”

“Made?” inquired Lyra, wincing at the word, “He didn’t love you?”

“Oh, he did. Every day he loved me. Especially after the arena -- he was excited when I was made into a horse chop…” Rainbow touched a scar that crossed her cutie-mark. “And the marks of his love will stay with me forever.”

Lyra felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest.

“And you're so calm about it?”

The sky-blue pegasus, with creaking leather clothing, reached out and downed another full glass of booze. Repeating it again and again, she was smiling at something, and Lyra realized that Rainbow Dash, a champion and a sportsmare, the Element of Loyalty, simply got drunk. Purposefully.

A pack of cigarettes was fetched -- Lyra already knew what it was. Deftly taking one, the pegasus sent it in her mouth and lit it with a lighter that was carefully brought by the bartender.

The acrid smoke stung her eyes, and Lyra made a gentle breeze by her telekinesis to ward off the stench. Many people in “Pony-Play” were smokers, but over the fenced tables hung powerful cones of hoods, and the smoke almost did not penetrate into the main hall.

Rainbow Dash released a stream of smoke upwards and said,“I'm in the mood today, Heartstrings. Do you want me to beat up your master?”

The golden eyes stared at the pegasus.

“What for?!” 

But Rainbow didn’t hear her anymore. Standing on her unruly hind legs, she leaned on Lyra, who had not managed to dodge, and holding the almost finished bottle in her front leg, proclaimed, “T-today your little Dashie is kind...” The pegasus almost fell but stayed on her hooves. “Eh, tore my ass!.. Well, I won’t even beat you, dump sub-rainbows! O-only in the arena! Vicky, rounds for everyone! On my account! Old Apple Daniels!”

Several people came to the bar to enjoy a free drink. A couple of toasts to the health of the champion were shouted, and someone called her to their table… Rainbow just grimaced and fell back on the chair.

A wad of cash tied with a rubber band flew onto the bar.

Lyra leaned over to ear of the blue flyer and quietly said,“You won’t find friends by pumping up everyone around with alcohol, Rainbow Dash...” 

“F-friends?” she asked in a slurred language, “I don’t need f-friends! In this world nor in another! F-friends’ll give you up as soon as you turn. Your loving owner will kick you into the arena, and at night will bandage you to bed and fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for two days! You can trust only in yourself.” 

“No, it isn’t so!” retorted Lyra with horror, she finally understood why leather bands had not only spikes but also steel rings.

“It is so,” a wry smile crossed Dash’s muzzle, and the last sip of whiskey was sent into her mouth, this time right from the bottle, “L-look at me. I am what I am because... hic… of my... master… owner, who has brought me the biggest gift in my life. Just the gift of my whole l-life, tore my ass!”

The empty bottle flew to the arena and stuck in the sand. The bartender, with an indifferent expression on his face, sent another one, which was deftly caught by Rainbow.

“What gift?”

The azure pegasus pulled out bottle’s stopper, made a couple of gulps and happily laughed.

“He just died! Died! At last! Oh, how I dreamed of it, you would know!”

She couldn’t get it. Rainbow Dash, joyful, perky, the fastest and the most reckless pegasus in the world, has been celebrating… the death of her… friend for three days in a row? Or master? That’s what she said?

Celebrating someone’s death -- it wasn’t even weird. It was unthinkable.

“But…” started the unicorn, however, Rainbow was immersed in a state where in tipsy fog you get very loose-tongued and your ears seem to be plugged with cotton.

“R-remember, little pony, no… hic!... no one can be trusted, especially people. Especially those, who want… to become” – even in Rainbow’s drunken condition, a bitter irony was heard in her voice -- “ a ‘true friend’! Remember, all that people need from you – show and porn! So, watch your croup, little pony, until it… wasn’t… hic!... until they made it useful!”

Lyra really wanted to get away from this Rainbow. A smell of the tobacco smoke was mixed up with alcohol and unpleasantly irritated her nose. According to the behavior of the azure pegasus, she didn't seem to be herself anymore. 

Who did that with her, and why?

Meanwhile, a man sat nearby the two ponies. Rainbow didn't show interest, because she tried to hit a bottleneck of a new bottle in the glass. A few drops of whiskey were already spilled on the counter. Lyra noticed that man who looked at the pegasus, who was barely maintaining a vertical position.

The stranger was wearing jeans and a leather jacket over a t-shirt, which in ‘Pony-Play’, seemed to be about the most common style. On his sleeve there was a silver mark in the form of three apples, obviously depicting Applejack’s cutiemark. The pony herself, however, was not with man. 

The man ran his hand over his shaved bald head, which was covered with a cobweb pattern.

“Rainbow Dash Vendar?” he asked, “Is that really you?”

Dash could hardly focus her ruby eyes on the new participant in the conversation and spoke, confused in her own language:

“I-If you call m-me the na-ame of this as-shole again, I'll count your bones! I, fuck, am the on-ly Rainbow Dash, the only… hic!... and unique. And let all the other fakes t-take the names of their… hic!...” the voice of pegasus was filled with endless contempt “owners! What do you need?”

“Listen, Dash, since Alex is gone, you're kinda on your own?...”

A surprised expression appeared on Dash’s muzzle:

“Ah, Franky…. I r-remember ya. Y-you visited us… several times. A lover of rough p-penetrations.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. It seemed you liked it, how about a repeat?”

“Franky… b-bitch… Molestia’s brat,” There was boiling hatred in Rainbow’s voice. The pegasus turned to stunned Lyra. “And w-why do only morons stick to me all the time?..”

The human wasn’t fased by her refusal.

“I’ll give you a cut, baby..., Synthets like you always need money. Moreover, I really like you.”

Rainbow Dash found some strength to stand up on her four hooves. The human stood up too and tried to stroke the pony on her short crest. The pegasus bowed her head with a muffled roar and twisted her ears, dodging the palm.

“Oh, I’ll give you a cut,” she said through her teeth.

Lyra had no time to do, or even to understand, anything. The human suddenly doubled over, gripping his groin where he had been hit by a shod hoof.

Paying no attention to the numb unicorn, Dash spun around and added one more blow to the face of man, who started to fall. A few drops of blood flew into the air, accompanied by a pair of teeth.

“H-how long I have waited for this, dammit..” Rainbow hiss out the words, “B-bitch… I hate… Today is just an unstoppable party, tore my ass.”

With those words, Dash sat back at the table and again reached the bottle. From the hall there was a certain amount of applause and ponies’ approving trampling. Lyra noticed that the trampling came from ponies who wore visible collars or other signs of slavery. Some of them earned a slap or jerk of their leashes from their masters for showing their feelings.

The moaning man was carried away by a burly guard, who quietly gave Rainbow thumbs - up. She didn't pay attention to that.

“Who are synthets, Dash?” asked Lyra, causing a blast of drunken laughter, “What was so funny about what I said?”

Rainbow barely coped with a fit of homeric laughter and replied,“Oh, y-you… cutie, you think you’re from… ha-ha… from this… Questria?”

“Equestria, yes. What do you mean ‘think'? Have you forgotten your home?”

A new burst of laughter shook the azure pegasus.

“Well if it’ll be easier for y-you to believe… I was already born in this w-world. And if I was in your country of fairies, I’ve forgotten about it.”

“What’s the first thing you remember?“ Lyra tried to cheer the pegasus up, but saw a severe look in return.

“Collar.”

The short answer shook her to the core. Well, if you take a very, very flexible morality, you can understand the close relationships between a pony and a man. After all, love doesn’t know species. But putting a collar on a foal?

“I-I have news for ya,” said Rainbow between teeth, and leaned closer to the unicorn, “There is… NO Equestria! All this is a human deception, a game. To be e-entertained! Previously there was only the L-luna damn... cartoon. Now we’re here. Synthets. Toys for humans… hic!”

“I am not a toy!” Lyra replied sharply, “I am alive and remember my home!”

Rainbow burst out again with mocking laughter.

“Oh, I can’t!.. Home, she remembers! You were born at the moment, when… hic!... you saw your master! All, that was before -- it’s an ar-hic!-tificial memory, a sweet lie to make it fun for him to play with you. Naive... hic!...horse...”

Lyra felt that the world which was barely beginning to line up, start to crumble again.

It couldn’t be true. It was too monstrous to be.

Golden eyes getting wet and looking into the ruby ones that were clouded by alcohol.

“Welcome t-to the real Luna damn world,” said Rainbow, “Sam, more!”

“I think that’s enough, Dash.” He cautioned, “I don’t mind as a bartender, but you’ve never drank so much.”

“I’ve never LIVED so much, tore my ass!.. Shit!” the hooves slammed against the counter, attracting few third party glances. “Pour, Sam, damn you! Give me the fucking whiskey!”

Lyra, shrinking down, began to back away. She thought that the human world had already shown her all its ugly facets, but if what Rainbow said was true…

The unicorn looked at Sam hopefully, but he shrugged.

“Sooner or later you would have known the truth. Accept it, little pony. Because there's no choice.”

“No!” Lyra nearly shouted, “No, it can’t be! It’s not true! I don’t believe it...!”

In tears, she rushed to the door. The unicorn waited for threats, laughter, even a chase, but the atmosphere of the “Pony-Play” did not change. The music was the same, and from the arena sounded sudden strikes, ringing of metal on metal and shouts of people and ponies making their bets. The air was filled with the smell of smoking potions and alcohol, laughter and other sounds that accompany the daily life of the club…

All of them didn’t care.

The human world didn’t care.

After she escaped the grim place, angry music and a morose chorus sang:

— In the Rainbow Factory, where your fears and horrors come true…

In the Rainbow Factory, where not a single soul gets through…

Lyra ran out of the bar and, without picking her way, ran somewhere, choking back sobs.

Equestria, home, all of her life… It was a lie? A cruel, merciless lie created by humans for... entertainment? 

Her foalhood, her happy, carefree life in the magical land, Princess Celestia -- it was all a lie? Magic of friendship and sincere, warm feelings and words? And Victor knew about it? He, after all, couldn’t have not known.…

Her hoofs pounded asphalt, and soon it was followed by a walkway of some kind of square or park.

The unicorn stopped at a lakeside. In the misty haze around the piece of nature towered and glittered with the lights of the large city, huge world that did not want to notice the tiny pony.

“Who am I?!" screamed Lyra desperately, shutting her eyes. Although no one was around, she  then repeated quietly, “Who am I...?”

Tears no one saw flowed on her cheeks.