>Beep beep...
>Beep beep...
>Beep-
>You slam your fist down on your alarm clock
>Beep beep...
>Fuck... Looks like you're not on the ball this morning...
>You try again, this time pressing the exact location of the accursed button
>Beep beep...
>This thing has to be shitting you...
>With a disgruntled sigh, you open one of your eyes and roll over, peering at the clock
>5:34
>Your alarm shouldn't even be going off at this time...
>You pick it up, and give it a shake
>Beep beep...
>No effect...
>In fact, you're pretty sure this thing is 'beeping' one to many times...
>Two consecutive beeps isn't the wake up call you're used too...
>Oh wait, your alarm clock isn't beeping...
>...
>Then what is?
>You sluggishly swing your legs over the side of the bed, and slip your feet into the padded slippers conveniently left there
>Did you leave the oven on again?
>No... As far as you're aware you didn't cook anything last night...
>You trudge across the room and flick on the lights, illuminating your quarters in a soft yellow glow
>Squinting at the sudden radiance, you pull back your curtain and peer outside
>Not much going on out there... Just other bungalows, some with lights, and some with occupants rightfully asleep
>You snap the curtains closed and turn around, reaching for the door
>Being as quiet as possible, you sneak out of your room, and approach the main living area
 
>You don't want to risk waking your guest, if she hasn't already been roused by the infernal racket coming from somewhere in the room
>Much to your combined relief and dismay, the slowly rising and falling hump that is Celestia remains immobile
>Perhaps she's just sleeping deep, considering the noise seems to be emanating from somewhere in her general direction
>With as light a step as humanly possible, you tiptoe across the room
>Oh shit...
>A new challenger approaches!
>Something flat and circular comes round the side of your kitchen counter, humming in its threatening tone as it fails to pick up even the largest dust particles
>You narrow your eyes at the Roomba, which continues its path of damnation towards your location
>With a practiced grace, you narrowly avoid its path, allowing it to continue onwards
>Phew...
>That was a close one...
>You turn your attention back to the source of the beeping, which has now grown considerably louder
>How the fuck is she still sleeping? Any regular person would have been driven insane by this point, presuming it's been going on for long...
>After a few hesitant steps over discarded items, you reach her bedside, and briefly reconsider what you're doing
>If she is asleep, then perhaps you should just leave her be?
>You can suffer an early morning wake up for her sake, she's already done it for you many a time
>But then again... Perhaps it's better to remedy the problem as opposed to simply ignoring it
>It could be important, perhaps even hazardous, and the longer you stand here, the more likely she is to wake up and see you
>Without giving it further thought, you reach for the wardrobe by her bed, opening it slowly
 
>Inside, sits a few of the items you gifted her earlier this week
>None of which are beeping...
>You squint in displeasure and raise your head out of the wardrobe, turning your focus towards the bed itself
>With a shaking hand, you reach over to pull back the covers, revealing the tip of the incubator
>As the duvet retracts further, it becomes blatantly obvious to you that something isn't right
>The nanites that had been doing their job for the past week or so, visible as the waft and weave of the pulsating grey liquid within the tube, had ceased their currents
>The grey matter was still, suspended inside the incubator like milk in a jug
>You immediately thrust you hand down, looking for the access panel you used to input the instructions a week prior
>Beep beep...
>Welp, there you go
>Astoundingly Celestia appears to have slept through your ongoing panic attack, a strand of drool linking her mouth to the pillow beneath her head
>Gross, but none the less endearing
>With haste, you pull open the top drawer of her bedside cabinet, and retrieve the instruction manual you placed there for safekeeping
"Let's see... Beeping red light... Two consecutive beeps..."
>Flipping through the pages, you find what has to be the audio cue setup
>'Two consecutive beeps + green light = system reset required'
>Jesus, these are some of the lowest common denominator instructions you've ever seen!
>Anyone who was able to acquire such a device and get it working should know how to read basic galactic English without the help of fucking word equations
>People these days...
>You forego your train of thought to continue reading
 
>'Rapid beeps + green light = System failure or incubator damage'
>Shit... Green means bad?
>In what fucked up universe does green mean bad?
>Who made this thing? Was it Edward?
>Is he senile and colourblind?
>This explains the mixed messages you were receiving from the tube when Celestia smashed it...
>Luckily it stopped once you taped it up.
>'Two consecutive beeps + blue light = Addition biomass required'
>'Rapid beeps + blue light = Biomass corruption, replace immediately'
>Neither of those apply to the current situation, so you ignore them
>'Two consecutive beeps + red light = Incubation process complete, please remove incubator'
>Oh shit! It's finished!
>You breath a sigh of relief and snap the manual shut
>It's still beeping, but at least you now know why
>You suppose you better wake your sleepy sun horse up before the noise does permanent damage to your conscience
>You lean in to give her a shake, only to have a neat idea
>You rub your hands together mischievously, and lean behind her, turning the incubator off
>The beeping stops
>Celestia's soft snore/whiney hybrids are now the dominating sound in the room
>It's still enough to hide the treacherous activity you have planned...
 
>You are Celestia, and it's that time again...
>Up! Up! Up!
>You've got coffee to make!
>With perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, you sit up in bed, before swinging your back hooves over the side and reaching for your brush
>The cracks and pops emitted from your stiff limbs as you stretch are as satisfying as ever, and though it's early you already feel a spring in your step
>Not that you can remember why, but that doesn't matter
>It seems spending time around Anon has increased your positive outlook on this strange world you've spent the last good while cooped up on
>You are thankful for that, it makes you feel welcome...
>This is the closest thing to a home you've had in... A long time...
>You hum an upbeat jingle as you brush your strawberry mane, taking care to get as many of the tugs out as possible
>You probably shouldn't be as concerned with this as you are, but now that your appearance is finally back under your own control you feel that it couldn't hurt to try and look presentable
>A jab of pain signals that the last of the knots have been removed, so you place your brush back on the bedside table and get up
 
>That's odd...
>The lights in the kitchen are on...
>The kitchen lights are never on, not unless you put them on, which you didn't
>The sound of footsteps approaching causes you to blink
>Anon appears from behind the kitchen divider wall
>"Morning Sun horse, coffee?"
>A frown crosses your lips
>Didn't you talk to him about this last night?  
"Anonymous, what are you doing awake at this hour?"
>"I couldn't sleep, too much to think about... How many sugars?"
"Anon... Did you wake up just to make me coffee?"
>"No, now how much milk do you want?"
"You look like you've been awake for a while..."
>"I'll take that as a splash then, now where did I leave those bags..."
>You sigh, not unlike a mother with an unruly child
"Anon, you need to go back to bed..."
>"Why? I'm a free man am I not?"
>A small walk across the room, and you now stand by his side, observing the monstrosity he's created
"Be that as it may, what you've made here isn't coffee..."
"It's tea, made backwards..."
>You shoot him an apologetic smile
"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but I think I'll stick to the coffee making, and you stick to what you're good at, sound okay?"
>Anon attempts to stifle a yawn
>"I guess..."
>He half heartedly tips his 'coffee' into the bin underneath the sink, and fetches a new pair of mugs out of the overhanging cupboard
>As you begin to make real coffee, he fidgets and hovers around the kitchen, picking things up and placing them down again in a different spot
>You ignore it, but he's acting weird today
 
>After a few moments of toiling, you have both mugs made and on the usual platter, which you then transfer to the coffee table and take a seat on the couch
>Anonymous takes a seat next to you, and sips from his mug
"Do you mind if I turn on the TV?"
>"Not at all..."
>Hmm, odd
>You never really understood human television...
>When you first saw it you were amazed! The way the images just magically appeared and moved around effortlessly
>But over time the novelty wore off, and what little TV you saw was often associated with cleaning your previous owners ghastly living room, or rooms, since he had many...
>The news was one thing, they never cover anything cheerful!
>Just 'conflict' this and 'assault' that, would it kill for a happy news report once in a while?
>As for the other content they put on the air, it's truly bizarre...
>You forever fail to understand why anyone could possibly care about the quality of a complete strangers wedding garments
>Perplexing... But at least it isn't the live footage of labour camps you used to be forced to observe...
>A shudder runs down your spine involuntarily at the memory, Anon picks up quickly
>"You cold?"
"I'm fine... It was just a twitch..."
>He shrugs
"If you say so..."
 
>You both return to watching the news, while Anon takes notes on his tablet of the changes to the 'trade routes' she showed you the other day
>"God, sometimes I wish people would just stop fighting all the time..."
"Sometimes? Surely that's something that you'd wish for all the time?"
>"Not necessarily... If people are fighting, they need weapons and supplies, I deliver those supplies. So people fighting puts food in my, and thereby your, stomach."
"Well I suppose I can't argue with that... Do you not wish for a less dangerous job?"
>He chuckles
>"Nah... I enjoy my job, even if I do get shot at occasionally. I don't expect you to understand..."
>In all honesty you do understand, if only slightly
>Your time as a ruler, especially dealing with the more aggressive occupants of neighbouring kingdoms (and space age civilisations), had taught you that though certain things seemed dangerous, they were ultimately worth doing
>You carried that philosophy right up until you first encountered the humans...
>Perhaps it was for good that you swiftly worked out you held none of the cards
>To think those idiot Gryphons actually tried to strike a trade deal, on their terms no less...
>You know for a fact that they're all long gone...
>If there's one mercy you feel the universe granted your ponies... It's that they don't taste particularly good...
>"Celestia? Hellooo? Anyone home?"
>Oh, you must have fazed out for a minute
"Yes, hello! I'm here..."
>"What day is it?"
"Huh?"
>"What day is today?"
"If I recall, it's Sunday... Why?"
>He frowns
>"Not the the weekday you horse, what happens today, why is today special?"
>You think on this
>Why is today special...
>...
>...
>Wait...
 
>Your eyes travel upwards, crossing as you stare at your forehead
>Anon follows you gaze and nods approvingly
"I-It's done?"
>"It is... I'm sorry I didn't tell you, my plan was to make you coffee and get it started, but you seemed to have forgotten about it..."
>You feel a smile spread across your muzzle
>"Wanna see it?"
>It takes all of your willpower not to grab the human and wrap him in the biggest most grateful hug ever conceived
>You would, but he hasn't finished his coffee, and you don't want a repeat of what happened last time...
"I-I would love that..."
>"I though you might..."
>He shuffles over to you, and wraps his hand around the base of the incubator, sliding open a little panel and fiddling with its technically intricacies
>"Now... Fair warning, your horn may be a little sensitive at first..."
>He grunts awkwardly as he begins to slide the incubator off your head
>"That plays well into what we'll do next, but I want you to be especially careful around doors, trees and other low hanging objects... Okay?"
>You give your head a slight nod, being careful not to throw him off balance
>"Right..."
>He gives a final grunt, and the device separates from your head
 
>It finds its place on the table, and the human passes you his tablet, which has its camera focused on you
>"How does it look?"
"A-Anon... It's..."
>It's beautiful...
>That's what it is... Beautiful
>The parts of your old horn had been merged seamlessly with the new addition, which extended to its original length, finishing in a sharp point
>No amount of filing could have possibly given a result as perfect as this... Not in a million years
>"Now, I'm sorry if it's a slightly different colour than you're used too... I'm sure with time it'll grow to match what's left of your old one..."
"Oh Anonymous... I couldn't care less... It's perfect... So so perfect..."
>He hums in agreement
>"We're almost done... But as far as I remember, that horn isn't just for stabbing, right?"
>You give an involuntary chuckle, choosing to ignore his violent statement and crude language
>"So I took the liberty of sorting that out for you..."
>He gets up, and walks over to your bedside
>"You probably spotted this stuff a while ago, and now that your horn's done-"
>He reaches into the cupboard by your bed, and pulls out the three vials of magic he had stored there previously
>"We can finally put them to use..."
 
>Wait, what is he saying?
>Surely he doesn't intend to restore your power... No, that's stupid of him, no human would take such a risk...
>"I don't know much about this magic stuff, to be honest I'd rather stay ignorant, but as far as I'm aware you guys kinda need it to tick over properly, so yeah..."
>He's actually doing this...
"Anon... Anon do you have any idea what a risk this is, too you?"
>"No... Uh, will you explode or something?"
"No, no... It's just, humans usually prefer their ponies... Without magic..."
>"And why is that?"
"We become dangerous, a threat... Especially a pony like me..."
>He frowns
>"And are you planning to become a threat Celestia?"
"No I-"
>"Then what's the issue? You sound as if you'd rather stay without it."
>That's the real question, isn't it...
>What is the issue?
>You used to dream of having your magic back, all those nights cooped up inside the prison cell you were forced to call home
>And now, right in front of you, is an opportunity to regain that which you had lost so long ago...
"I'm sorry Anon, I just keep forgetting you're on my side..."
>"Hey... Don't apologise for that, God knows I'd think the same were I in your situation..."
>He gives you a pat on the back, and returns his attention to the vials
>"Now if I remember correctly... All I had to do was open them..."
>You remain silent, tail twitching in anticipation
>"Well... Here goes nothing..."
>He twists the lids off the containers, allowing the magic within to spill out at great speed
>It arcs through the air and makes a connection with your newly formed horn, rushing down its length and into your body
>You can feel your limbs begin to quiver, and a rush of adrenaline overtakes you...
 
>You are Anonymous, and you are unsure of how intelligent you current course of action is...
>Having just removed the lids on Edwards magic vials, you watch as the plume of prismatic energy makes contact with your pony, her horn vacuuming it up like a sponge left in a sink
>You honestly have no idea what to expect... But from the shaking in her legs and the bright light that shines from her eyes, you are beginning to doubt it's anything good
>Is this just what they do? Do they emit laser shows every time magic stuff happens?
>You can only begin to imagine what their planet might have looked like if shit like this was a regular occurrence
>*CRACK*
>That was a fucking bolt of lightning!
>Inside your house!
>Arcs of whack electricity and spirals of energy are beginning to curl around her, forming a maelstrom of colour and sound
>You back away slowly, stopping only when you reach the TV, which remains on
>Her wing spreads outwards, extending to its full length as the twitching in her limbs intensifies
>The screen behind you begins to flicker, disrupted by the immense amount of electromagnetic interference Celestia is undoubtably spewing
>The air around you crackles and sparks, and the room temperature starts to fluctuate sporadically
>"Uh... Is this normal?!"
>You attempt to shout over the obscene racket she's creating, and you'll be lucky if the Feds don't get called here
>Hell, you were lucky they weren't called last time...
 
>A bolt flies past your head, striking the wall behind you
>You sigh internally as the smell of singed wallpaper and melted plastic fills your nostrils
>The shit you go through...
>Whatever this is, it thankfully appears to be winding down
>The sparkles in the air begin to fade, and the frequency of her electrical pulses diminishes
>"Alliance- Unidentifi- Pilot-"
>The TV appears to be working again...
>Joy...
>Slowly, her wing settles at her side and she returns to silence, her only moments being the occasional twitch or muscle spasm
>Flashes of magical lighting run up and down her new horn, which seems to be caked in some kind of bizarre blue dust
>Hesitantly, you reach out to touch her
"Celestia? Are you... Are you okay?"
>She remains silent
>As you hand draws closer, you can feel the static fuzz around her form, like a capacitor about too...
"OH SHI-"
 
>There is a brief moment of still, before an eruption of light bathes the room, humbling even the apparent magnitude of the great white star that had previously rendered you visionless
>It shines for a solid ten seconds as you stumble blindly around the snug looking for leverage
"God dammit FUCK! Why didn't I see that coming..."
>Furiously rubbing your burned retinas, you attempt regain your primary sense
>Things are blurry, smudges of light and shades of blue, pink and green fill your damaged vision
>"Ano- Anon answer-"
>The ringing in your ears is deafening, but with every passing second it continues to subside
"WHAT?! CELESTIA IS THAT YOU?!"
>You can't tell if you're shouting or not... Experience has told you that perhaps this is the case
>"I can hear- -ou don't need to shou-"
>In your tinnitus fuelled blunder, you find your hands running through something soft and warm to the touch
>It flows through your fingers like silk, fluid and ever changing...
>"Anon?"
>The piercing shriek in your ears finally ceases, leaving only your vision to clear
>"Oh Anon. Sit down dear, rest your eyes."
>You feel a light touch guide you, before seating you on what you presume must be the couch
>A brilliant white shape wafts infront of you, a pair of sparkling magenta orbs piercing through the haze of your clouded vision
"Celestia? Is that you?"
>"Yes Anon... Oh I knew I should have warned you about that. How silly of me..."
>Something about her seems, off...
 
>From the blur alone you can tell she's different, but just how different remains to be seen
>She seems brighter, warmer...
>You rub your eyes again, this time to some effect
>You can now see what has become of the weak and dirty little horse you found just over a week ago
>She is...
>There is few words to describe it actually
>You'd say beautiful, but it's more than that
>Everything about her seems to radiate power and command, yet also an almost tangible feeling of love and warmth
>You stare at her new form on awe, the last ripples of magical energy spiralling down her legs and into the well singed carpet
>"Anon? Anon can you see me?"
"Yeah."
>"And... W-what do you think?"
>What do you think?
>You think a lot of things
>Amazement, admiration, confusion...
>Fear.
"I- I don't know yet."
>You stand up again, with expected caution
>The two of you stare at eachother, trying to predict what will happen next
"You're taller."
>"Yes, I am."
"That's uh... Something."
>She almost looks disappointed
"I'm sorry I just, I don't know what to say... I knew you once looked like this, but seeing it in person is a bit of a mind bender."
>You notice her mane  is now flowing on its own, as if pushed by an invisible wind
>"A mind bender?"
"Yeah, I'd ask how, but we both already know what the answer is, don't we?"
>She giggles, causing you to let out an involuntary chuckle
>This chuckle quickly grows to laughter, and before you know it the tenseness in the air has completely evaporated, leaving the two of you in stitches for no discernible reason other than 'it feels good to laugh'
>And laugh you do
>Sure, you now have to micromanage a house filled with weapons, spare parts and an interstellar godlike horse you know next to nothing about
>But this is just one step in your journey, a journey which starts now
>After you've had a shower of course.