>You sit down heavily upon your bed, weighing your options.
Lyra, are you sure this will work?
>"Sure?  Of course I'm sure!  I did it for BonBon, remember?"
>Well, that is true
>BonBOn even testified for you that it worked
But BonBon's a p0ny, and I'm...
>"Aww, forget about that.  It's the same principle, right?"
Yeah, but the same can be said about surgery and butchery...
>"Hey man, relax.  This is why we're doing this, remember?  You just aren't yourself!"
>You sigh, and rub your eyes
>Your crow's feet are growing by the hour
I guess.
So where do we go from here?
>Lyra rubs her chin with a hoof
>"Hmm."
>"Well, first off, why don't you lay down."
>You really are out of other options at this point
>Warm milk didn't do it, vigorous exercise didn't do it
>Not even having a couple faps did it, and that usually puts you out like a light
>So, you oblige the minty mare
>And lay down on the bed
 
 
>Lyra climbs up onto the bed
>You blink drowsily, and when you open your eyes again she's above you
>Hooves planted on either side of your prostate body
>As you watch, she begins to lower herself onto your torso
>You put your arms up
Woah, hey, what's-
>"Ssssh... you need to relax.  And we need maximum contact for this to work, remember?"
>Hu-
>The synapses in your overtired mind fire, and you do remember
>She said something about contact helping with the connection
>Or something
>At this point, you don't much care
>You let your arms fall to your side, and Lyra resumes her descent
>She lays now upon your torso, looking down at you with those luminous golden eyes
>The strangest things run through your mind
>For example
>Your shirt is riding up a little bit above your pants
>You know this because Lyra's laying on top of the gap
>And the alien feeling of her soft, warm belly fur is giving you goosebumps and minor shivers
 
 
>Lyra makes herself comfortable
>You swear, she must be enjoying this
>Then she finally speaks
>"Hold me."
Okay, the laying on I can understand.  But why?
>"Maximum contact, remember?  You got lots of surface area on those arms of yours"
Oh.
>You figure, what the hell
>She's warm anyway, and your extremities are starting to get cold
>So you reach up
>And wrap your arms around the green p0ny on your chest
>"That oughta do it."
>You here her mumble.
>her horn glows for a moment, and then the lights flick off.
>"Now, close your eyes."
>You blink a few times, working up the moisture
>And then your second and third set of lips slide closed, reducing your vision to blessed darkness
>You feel the being in your arms shift
>And then hot, moist breath blowing down over your face
>it pauses there for a moment, as if considering
>And then the line of soft warmth runs up your neck
>Lyra has laid her head on your chest, it seems
>Her horn runs up your face, over your left eye
>With the tip resting on top of your forehead
>An incredibly brief, brilliant instance of aquamarine glows through your eyelids
>And then true unconsciousness comes to you like a lost dog returning to its master
 
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7DQ1Gx9iO3Y (Mood music, I guess.  Listened to this while I wrote this bit; ignore lyrics.)
 
 
>You tumble through a spectral, sparkling green tunnel
>Huh
>Usually it's not this rough
>Then all thoughts leave you as it spits out out
>And sends you rolling across the hard ground
>When you finally cease your tumbling, it's because you slid into something
>Something that groans behind you
>You open your eyes and emit a groan of your own
>You're sore all over...
>Then you begin to examine your environment
 
 
>...Well, this isn't good
>You seem to be in... some kind of city?
>You think it's a city
>That's the closest thing you can think of
>Canterlot
>Although even that's a far flung comparison...
>The only real similarities are that the buildings are packed close together like in Canterlot
>But everything's all big
>And... drab
>The buildings, the walls
>Even the ground underneath you
>It's mostly made of this run down looking, grey material
>Which, your body handily reminds you
>is incredibly hard
>And unforgiving
>The entire scene is bathed in a pale, translucent glow from a fat moon that hangs overhead
 
 
>The thing behind you coughs
>"Lyra?"
>The voice is familiar
Anonymous?
>"Yeah, it's me"
>You roll onto your belly, and then rise
>Then you turn around
>Anonymous lays prostate on the concrete before you
Hey man, how are ya doing?
>He coughs again
>"I've been better."
>He pulls himself into a sitting position against the wall
>"So this is it?  Or, uh, what is this?"
>You frown
Well Anonymous, this is your mind.
>His response is sharp
>"What?"
>You stare at him
This is your mind.  From here, we need to figure out what's wrong, and how to fix it.
>Although the moonlight is pale
>Your friend somehow manages to become paler
>"You- what?  We're inside my mind?  You said all we'd have to do is-"
I said we'd have fix the problem, didn't I?
>He's silent for a moment.
>"Well, yes."
 
 
So, does any of this look familiar to you?
>Anonymous warily clambers to his feet
>"Well, yes.  It's the city I was in before... before I came to Equestria."
>He steps forward, onto a black strip of ground
>Then he stares at a metal pole across the way
>"...Yeah, we're on Eisenhower boulevard."
>This piques your curiosity
>Anonymous has never spoken much about the place he came from
>He always changes the subject before much can be learned
>You could learn a lot here, you think
>Then you laugh at yourself
>Of course you could
>It is his mind, after all
>"Lyra, listen to me."
>Anonymous's tone catches your attention, and you look up at him
>"You have to stay close to me, okay?  Stay with me, and don't wander off.  It isn't safe here."
Alright.
>You agree
>You have your own motives for being here, of course
>But better to stick with Anon
>For his peace of mind, at least
>Presently, Anonymous starts to walk
>"C'mon, Lyra.  Let's... try my old place.  See if there's anything there, I guess."
Sure
>You placate, trotting off after him
 
 
>"So, Lyra" You hear from him a few blocks later
>"Is my mind like other minds you've seen?"
I really can't say it is.
>"Heh, thought so."
It's... darker, I guess.  Which could be part of the problem.
>"Really?"
>You ponder for a second
Well, yeah.  I mean, minds are normally brighter than this.  More well lit.  
Cheerier, I guess?
>"Huh.  Well, I can see how I'd be different..."
How so?
>"Nevermind" he says abruptly.
>Motion in the corner of your eye catches your attention, and you look
>There was white there, you think
>Pure, unspoilt white
 
 
 
Anonymous?
>You turn left, and then right
>Where did he get to?
>You were following behind him just a minute ago
>But now he's nowhere to be found
Anonymous!
>You call out, to no avail
>Your cry echoes throughout the streets, returning to you sounding like a taunt
>"Anonymous!  Anonymous!  Anonymous! Anonymous..."
>You are lost.
>Okay, you can find your way out.
>You helped BonBon, right?
>...except you were with her the whole time
>You know what you have to do
>You need to find one of those huge glass huts again
>Yeah
>Then you can just find the part of the map labeled "Anon's house"
>That'll do it
>A yawning doorway beckons to you
>You saw one just back on the other street, and the door offers a shortcut
>So you head for the door, purpose once again in your step
>It's dark inside, and raise your hoof to hit the light switch...
 
>A terrible screeching sound drags you to consciousness
>Along with a rhythmic jarring
>...And your head hurts
>Wow
>The jarring isn't exactly helping
>You are, you think
>Being carried by something
>There are two hooves wrapped around your left side
>And your right side is pressed up against a solid slab of something
>Something that's  warm, and dense, and heaving
>It smells like sweat, and exertion, and... charcoal?
>With a heartbeat as steady as a grandfather clock
>But wait
>The hooves are too long
>And the end in... something
>Each one is wrapped around one of your left side legs
>Is it Anonymous?
>You groan, and decide to open your eyes and find out
 
 
>The sound is some kind of screeching, horrid wail
>Sort of like how you imagine Tartarus sounds
>Except occasionally, words can be discerned
>Hissing screeches of words, that is
>"yyyyyoourrr moom!"
>"iiiiimplying"
>"Mummy?"
>"I want my mummy!"
>Much closer, from right behind your ear, you hear another voice
>This one is much more... alive, you guess.
>Familiar.
>But still not Anonymous
>A deep bass rumble, it sounds like someone dragging a Tom-sized boulder down a gravel road
>"Don't look back"
>Of course, that's what you were doing to begin with
>Your head twists slightly, but the thing
>No, the hand
>on your front leg reaches up and grabs your jaw, twisting it abruptly back forward
>The glimpse you got was more than enough
>you're not looking back ever again
 
 
>Pursuing your courier are all manner of...
>The word that comes to mind is abominations
>Red and black and blue and brown, they slip and slide along
>Uttering that terrible shriek
>Ranging in size from a filly to... bigger than anon, the come
>Covered in scabs and cuts and horrible bleeding gashes
>And just as numerously, improbably large teeth and claws
>"Don't need you fainting on me again" says the voice
N-no
>"Good, you understand me."
>And then whoever it is that's carrying you trips
>Or something
>Because there's a massive lurch forward
>And then you're tumbling again
>When you finally recover, and regain your hooves
>Your savior is nowhere to be seen
 
 
>The horrible howling rises in pitch, so you steel yourself and turn
>Your previous exposure seems to have inoculated you
>As all you feel is the pressing need to vomit
>The horrible, toothed horde approaches more slowly now
>...and the words shift from nonsense to something entirely more sinister
>You fight through the bile
>You know a defensive stun spell, of course
>Everyp0ny had to learn it, after the timber wolf attack...
>You just hope you can remember how to cast it
>You lower your head, aiming your horn and watering eyes
>And so fail to notice the glittering metal cylinder that arcs over top of you
>Your spell goes off in a wide arc, stunning the front line of the horde
>And slowing it momentarily as the abominations in back have to knock them over and out of the way
>In that time, a massive detonation sounds in front of you
>The flash renders you blind
>So you are unable to see the majority of the abominations splatter against the walls
 
 
>The next sound you hear, even through your ringing ears
>Is what sounds like thunder
>Except it's happening over and over again
>You also that same deep, gravelly voice from before
>It's yelling
>When your vision recovers, you almost wish it hadn't
>Most of the horde is gone
>And the walls around where it was are painted a mixture of blood red and bone white
>In front of you stands a human
>Presumably the one that was carrying you before
>But this human is not Anonymous
>Oh no
>He has the same body shape as Anon
>But he's... thicker
>There's more to him
>you've seen Anon with his shirt off, and Anon has professed to "keep himself in shape"
>And for some reason, that does something for you
>But this human is another level entirely
>His muscles bulge in ways you didn't know that kind of frame could bulge
>The olive... tank top?
>Yeah, that's what that's called
> it barely its
>Camouflage pants tucked into black... boots, you think they're called, complete the ensemble
>Along with a red band of cloth tied around the head
>Sorta like you saw Anon do once
 
 
>The human holds in his arms an irregularly shaped black stick, which seems to be making the thunder
>There's a dull green box hanging off the left side of it
>And the right side spits out a steady stream of dirty brown sticks and black crumbs
>The front is emitting small bursts of flame, instantaneous to see
>And this human is pointing it at the functional remains of the horde
>Whatever... thing he points it at, erupts into blood and falls over
>The last of the horde falls just a second before the thunder stops
>The flashes stop from the stick too, as does the stuff coming out the side
>The human sets the stick down
>For rising from the remains of the horde is a new monster
>As tall as some of the buildings, it roars
>The human draws from his being a long, wicked looking knife, and charges the beast
>It swipes and snaps at him ineffectually, grazing his back at best
>He slides between its legs, and then springs up from the back
>One arm hangs around its shoulder, while the other does something with the knife
>The beast roars again, this time in pain, and reaches back to swat the impudent man
>But the man is gone, dropped off the beast's back
>It lumbers around to face him, and then detonates
>Splattering the already gore covered walls to absolute saturation
 
 
>The human casually wipes his knife off on his pantleg, and then sheaths it
>From the plethora of objects around his waist, he draws a canteen, and drinks deeply from it
>Then he approaches you
>You cower a bit
What... what are you?
>"I could ask you the same" he grunts
Well, I'm a p0ny...
>"And I'm a human."
What... agh...
>He picks up the stick as you cough, choking a little on the fumes it emitted
What's your name?  Why did you help me?  What is this place?  Do you know where Anon is?  Is he safe?
>He chuckles darkly
>"Easy kid, don't stain yourself."
>Then he crouches, peering at your face
>"Can you walk?"
I... yes.
>"Good.  We need to get out of here.  I'll tell you as we go."
O-okay.
 
 
>As you walk, this new human answers your questions, more or less
>His name is "Action"
>It suits him
>And he tells you he knows you brought Anon, because he was watching.
>He informs you that Anon is having problems sleeping because something tripped a valve way down in the city sewers
>And that same something has been spawning these hordes of nightmares...
>He's tried, but he can never get close
>The whole thing is underwater
>And it needs to be drained, somehow
>He also tells you that Anon is currently hiding out in another human's house
>A human by the name of "Ingenuity"
>And that he'll get you as close to Anon as he can
>The discussion finally ends when you arrive at a particular building
>This building is heavily fortified
>Covered in barb wire and surrounded by small, green square boxes that read "This side towards enemy"
>Action goes to the front of the building and pushes some buttons set into the wall next to a section of rectangular panels
>The rectangular panels rise, and lights flicker on beyond
>Revealing the front of a massive plow painted to look like an equally massive maw, with the letters "RAPE TRUCK" stenciled along the top
>And a glass box above it
>"Well C'mon, kid"
>He says
>"We're goin' for a ride"
 
 
>You follow Action into the building
>The walls are covered in pegs
>And resting on those pegs are more of the metal sticks
>Some of them have wierd tubes on the top
>And others have wood parts
>The grey floor is stained in places by a black substance
>And there are stacks of green boxes with yellow stenciled lettering
>Metal cabinets, metal tables, metal tools and a massive bed with a metal frame take up the rest of the wallspace
>Then you look to the left
>Behind the plow is a big metal and wood machine
>Most of the body is camoflage metal
>But there are wooden rails on the back
>The entire thing rests on six wheels that are nearly as tall as you are
>They have metal centers and rubber outsides
>You've never seen wheels like that before
 
 
>While you're staring slackjawed about the place, Action is living up to his namesake
>He pulls a lever on the side of the machine, revealing a compartment behind the glass window you saw earlier
>Inside, you see a wheel on a stick, several metal pedals, more sticks sticking up out of the ground
>And a worn looking bench with a backrest
>Then he grabs two belts
>one is black, and is covered in rectangular pouches
>The other one is brown, and has loops
>Which hold significantly larger brass and red cylinders
>Action drapes these across his torso
>Then he goes to the piles of green boxes
>He grabs four of them and puts them in the... the Rape Truck
>Then he goes to the walls, and rubs his chin
>After ensuring his previous metal stick was put down on a metal bench, he pulls from the wall another metal stick just like it
>Then he pulls one that looks... different
>This one has a center block with a rectangular hole in it
>Inside that hole is a shiny cylinder
>The back part is wood
>And the front part is two metal cylinders
>The top cylinder is longer and open at the end
>The bottom cylinder is shorter and capped off, and there's a piece of carved and checkered wood wrapped around most of it
 
 
 
>As you watch, Action pulls the red cylinders out of one of the belts
>He pushes them into a slot on the bottom of the central rectangle
>"Still with me, kid?"
>You shake your head
My name's Lyra.  And yes.  
And...
>You rub your eyes with your hooves
There's so much here I don't understand.
Presumably from Anonymous's world.
For example, what IS that thing?  And how does it work?
>Action considers the object in his arm
>"This?  This is my baby"
You have children?
>"Figure o' speech, kid."
>He does, accordingly, look at it like one would view a very dear object
>"No, this is a gun.  More accurately, a shotgun."
>Action pulls on the forward wooden part, and it slides back
>The shiny metal cylinder inside the central rectangle slides back as well, and one of the red sticks appears inside the chamber
>Then he pushes forward on the wooden handle, and the stick is pushed inside the upper tube
>"When I pull this trigger, the powder in the shell lights and this thing belches a cloud of lead at whatever doesn't deserve to be alive anymore"
>You scratch your head...
Why would you need such a-
>Action tenses
>He raises the shotgun to his shoulder, and points it in your direction
>You gulp
 
 
>Action pulls the trigger, and there's a massive flash that singes the top of your mane
>Along with an accompanying sound of thunder that hammers your eardrums
>You don't, however, go dark
>Or feel hurt
>or whatever it is that you feel when you're dying
>It appears he shot over you
>After his shot, he pulls the wooden part again
>The red stick flies out of the central block, bouncing off across the floor
>He points grimly over your head
>Then he says something that you can't hear because he just MADE BUCKING THUNDER TEN FEET AWAY
>You turn around
>The message is clear
>One of the horrible monsters stands just outside the garage door
>Well, stood
>It's laying in a pool of blood now
>THAT'S why Action needs guns
>Behind you, you hear shouting
>"WE MADE WAY TOO MUCH NOISE"
>You turn around
>Action's throwing a final few effects in the machine
>"WE NEED TO GET MOVING BEFORE THEY GET HERE"
>He waves you on
>"COME ON!  GET IN THE TRUCK!"
 
 
>You're in no mood to argue
>So instead, you jump up into the truck
>Well, bound would be more accurate
>You have to stretch a good ways to get onto the first step
>And then from there, move fast enough to get your hooves up
>Then jump onto the seat
>You see Action start to climb inside, so you scoot further into the internal compartment
>He pulls himself up in front of the wheel, and pulls a key from his pocket
>The key goes into a keyhole on the front wall
>Which has a number of needles and dials on it
>Action pushes a few buttons, turns a few knobs
>Then he stomps on one of the pedals and turns the key
>A dulled roar erupts from the front of the vehicle, which settles into a steady, bass rumble
>The seat beneath you begins to vibrate ever so slightly
>Then Action pushes another one of the pedals, moves one of the levers, and releases it
>And the entire thing lurches into motion
>Further proddings, pushings and occasional cursings from Action serve to propel the 'Rape Truck' to velocities you'd never thought you could achieve
>You wonder if this is sort of what it's like to be a pegasus
>Going this fast
>Action navigates the streets of the nighttime city with practiced ease
>The lights mounted just above the plow pick out your route as you rumble along
>You shake your head
Where are we going?
>"Ingenuity's place, if we can manage it."
 
 
 
>The headlights pick out something up in the distance
>You squint
>Action curses
What...
>The bestial howl of a hundred throats splits the air
>Ahead of you mills a crowd of the abominations
>It makes a picket line across the street
>"They're onto us!" shouts Action
>To your rising alarm, however, he makes no effort to slow down
ACTION, WHY AREN'T WE STOPPING?
>"THE RAPE TRUCK HAS NO BRAKES!" he screams
>Then the plow hits the mass of fleshy beasts with a sickening squelch, and the entire truck lurches
>The momentum of the thing, however, carries you over and through the crowd
>But now you're in the clear, right?
>You hope
>Next to you, Action is working the instruments of the Rape Truck like a p0ny possessed
>He glances at a mirror attached to the front glass window, and curses
 
 
>Action has to raise his voice to make himself heard over the roar of whatever it is that keeps the truck moving
>"Get in the back, there's a Ma Deuce mounted on the tailgate.  Push the V shaped metal plate on the back to shoot the quicklings"
What's a ma deuce?
>You ask in return
>"A big fucking gun"
>He practically shouts
>Then he smashes out the rear window with an elbow
>"Now git going!"
>You know what will happen if anything like you're imagining catches up with the truck
>So you do as you're told, jump through the window
>And hope for the best
 
 
>On the far side of the window, you land on the wooden slats with a thump
>There are two objects covered in tarps on either side of the back
>And mounted into the truck bed at the far end is the Ma Deuce
>Or at least, what you're guessing is one
>There's a long, thick central black box mounted on a tripod that appears to be bolted into the flooring
>And the biggest green box you've seen yet hanging off the left side
>True to form, on the nearer end are two of Anonymous's "Handles"
>Took you a while to get that term in your head
>And on the far end is a tube
>Sort of like the tube on Action's first gun
>But bigger, thicker, longer
>And with less stuff on it
>What's beyond the end of the truck bed, however
>That's what's truly terrifying
>For there is a veritable pack of the creatures
>They are different from the ones you saw before, however
>Their limbs are elongated, almost freakishly so
>And their huge bounds eat up ground with frightening speed
>With no time to lose, you scramble for the Ma Deuce
>There is indeed a V shaped metal plate on the back
>With your magic, you depress it...
 
 
>By far the loudest thunder clap of them all sounds off, and the tube emits a scorching fireball that warms your fur, even all the way back here
>In your wake, one of the quicklings explodes into a fountain of gore
>The shock of the firing causes you to let up on the trigger
>A single, massive brown stick falls out of the bottom of the center box and rattles off across the floor
>In the horde behind, another quickling pulls forward and occupies his former comrade's position
>You grit your teeth, and plop down behind the gun
>With your hooves, you hold the handles
>They're a bit slippery, but you assert your innate magic
>Then you depress the plate again
>The gun jumps and bucks against your hooves, sending a volley of projectiles into the oncoming horde
>You find that if you brace your back hooves on the legs of the tripod and push with your entire body, you can move the gun back and forth
>And so this is what you do, sweeping it back and forth, back and forth across the oncoming horde...
>In a straightaway, it seems, the Rape Truck can keep its distance
>But in the turns, the creatures gain ground, and this is when you punish them the most
>The truck under you inclines slightly, and your worldview goes down, indicating a hill
>You chance a glance forward
>You seem to be going up on some sort of extended bridge
>Rests on pillars, and goes up and over the city
>Then your head goes back to the facing of your weapon
>And you resume firing
 
 
>Then, all of the sudden, the gun just...
>Stops firing!
>You push the plate in a couple times, unable to comprehend
>It's...  Empty?
>"Hey kid!" comes a shout from too close behind you
>You scrable to your hooves and turn around
>It's Action
>He's removed the tarp off of the right side object
>Which appears to be a massive grey tube with black, red and yellow patches
>And a handle on the front
>"End of the ride for you!"
>He grunts, thrusting the handle of a black box into your mouth
>"Hang onto this tight"
>While you're busy gagging at the taste of dirt and sweat, Action hefts the enormous tube onto his shoulder
>He holds it the way you've seen Anonymous carry long pieces of lumber
>Except that there's a handle on the front for him to hold onto
>You finally spit the case out, careful to catch it with your magic
Who's driving the truck!?
>You almost shout
>"A stick and a bungee cord.  Get into this thing!" He returns, doing something with his free arm and crouching
>A massive yellow panel that covers a section of the top half of the tube slides forward, revealing a hole
>"C'mon kid!  Now!"
>For reasons that not even you comprehend, you oblige him
>Carrying your case with you, you hop into the tube
>The yellow part slides back in place above you
 
 
>The inside of the tube is grey and cool
>The box pokes into your chest
>A faint voice floats down the opening in the end
>"I'm sending you to...."
>You can't catch the rest
>Sending?
>What?
WHAT ABOUT YOU?
>You shout
>"I... be fine" Comes the return
>Then a massive force kicks you thoroughlly in the haunch
>And for a brief second, you're flying
>Time slows down as you sail through the air over the drab, dismal city
>Your box floats along in front of you, and your head pans about
>All over your body the wind rushes, like when you were standing on top of Pike's peak
>You look out over the moonlit landscape
>A particular flash of white catches your eye, but before you can look at it harder, you realize that the ground is coming up rather fast
>In particular, a cozy looking three story house
>Your trusty box shatters the window directly in front of you
>And the last impression you have is of the color red
>Then you impact, and everything goes black
 
 
 
>Back on the Rape Truck roaring down the No Brakes Highway, Action sighs.
>"I miss fighting commies and nazis."