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# Microsoft - Short and fast mutation

By: mothpone on Feb 18th, 2014 | syntax: None | size: 1.29 KB | hits: 43 | expires: Never
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1. Ugh, how did it come to this? The preceding day had been normal enough - wake up, say hello to your friends, take a walk along the river. Your routine was pretty well-established. You'd reach the crossroads and head back. Today, however, was different.
3. You knew what was ahead. You'd heard the stories. They'd been told to you even since you were a filly. And you'd heeded them, until now. "It couldn't be THAT bad," you thought. After all, you'd never seen or even heard of anypony being infected. They were probably just stories meant to scare. Meant to keep ponies from wandering too far from home.
5. Nope. Here you were, sitting in the middle of the forest, part of you green and black and ugly, because you decided to stop believing the stories. Just because some implementation of logic, some communication between neurons, some facet of your brain had decided that it would be a good idea to keep going, despite what you've heard.
7. You're at the end of your rope. Nothing seems to be working. You can barely even move. The infection's spreading quickly. It has almost half of you now. You feel like crying, but you can't find the tears. Is this it? What happens next? Thoughts race through your mind at the speed of light.
9. Some language desperately escapes from your lips-
11. "N-no... I don't want to mutate!"

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Ugh, how did it come to this? The preceding day had been normal enough - wake up, say hello to your friends, take a walk along the river. Your routine was pretty well-established. You'd reach the crossroads and head back. Today, however, was different. You knew what was ahead. You'd heard the stories. They'd been told to you even since you were a filly. And you'd heeded them, until now. "It couldn't be THAT bad," you thought. After all, you'd never seen or even heard of anypony being infected. They were probably just stories meant to scare. Meant to keep ponies from wandering too far from home. Nope. Here you were, sitting in the middle of the forest, part of you green and black and ugly, because you decided to stop believing the stories. Just because some implementation of logic, some communication between neurons, some facet of your brain had decided that it would be a good idea to keep going, despite what you've heard. You're at the end of your rope. Nothing seems to be working. You can barely even move. The infection's spreading quickly. It has almost half of you now. You feel like crying, but you can't find the tears. Is this it? What happens next? Thoughts race through your mind at the speed of light. Some language desperately escapes from your lips- "N-no... I don't want to mutate!"