Get Armored, Dummy

 

Those ominous words were addressed directly to him in the Discord chat. Attached to the message was an embedded link to a transformation sequence featuring a familiar pink pony becoming a suit of plate armor.

 

Josh rolled his eyes nonchalantly. Of course they'd ping him for this, he'd been waiting for this one ever since they teased Pinkie Pie being the next victim of that Nightmare Moon TF series. Despite the pink mare being his favorite pony, he wanted to see what fate Nightmare Moon had in store for her, and judging from the artwork, they really went all out with her sequence! He'll have to get a closer look at it later, right now he was busy doing other important-WOOOAH!

 

While looking at his phone, he was too distracted to notice that he had stepped onto an empty stone plinth on the ground that surely wasn't there a few seconds ago. He stumbles as his feet came to an abrupt stop, somehow stuck to the odd surface like glue. As he tries to move his unresponsive legs, he fails to notice the tiny licks of malevolent purple light beginning to creep up from his feet. He doesn't know it yet, but his fate has already been sealed.

 

The magic works its way up his legs, transforming his feet into something more hoof-like. His cheeks feel numb, and his mouth forces itself open into what appeared to be a gritted smile. Josh reaches a hand up to his face, although the movement is stiff, his limbs starting to become increasingly uncooperative. He could still move, but the thought of doing so just seems... pointless now. Maybe he should just give in...

 

Wait a second, that Discord message! He tries to unlock his phone, only to find out that he... can't. The magic had started to work on his arms now, leaving hollow metal shells in place of hands, shaped to look like pony hooves tipped with cruel spurs. His body shifts downward, the free hoof-shaped appendage coming to rest on the stone plinth with what could now only be described as his back hooves.

 

Now stuck on (almost) all fours, Josh begins to feel... empty? He feels a strange, hollow feeling within himself, like his insides were just... evaporating out of existence. Josh shudders as he realizes that the emptiness inside of him was meant to be filled... just not on his own. His body continues to change, becoming crusted over with chain mail and leather, his shoulders and cheeks jutting out into hardening points as his thighs flatten into solid plates over what were once his hips. His phone, if it could still be called that, remained fixed to the metal appendage he had held it in, taking on the shape of what appeared to be a large battle axe, the hardening shell coming to rest around the weapon.

 

Josh tries to look down at his transforming body, but his form feels stiff... unwilling to move on its own. If only he had someone that could help... someone to use him, to wear him and move him around freely...

 

The magic begins to close in around the last few scraps of his human flesh. His face aches, and his lips grow hard, teeth stretching out into a grill-like visor for his wearer to see from. His eye sockets, on the other hand, begin to darken and shift backwards, while his ears migrate to the top of his head, taking on the shape of pony ears. Two glowing red points of light form in place of his pupils, peering out from the hollow eye sockets that have just begun to merge with the opening of the ear guards.

 

Josh's half-helmet head seems to twitch, creaking down to look at its transformed body. He could move if he wanted to, but... does he really want to? He was armor, and armor was meant to be used by someone else. They would move for him, and the concept of being worn just felt... right. Deep down, he knows that there was no turning back, but does he even have the option to fight it off at this point? And why should he have that option when the thought of someone wearing him just felt... so, so good?

 

Slowly, he turns his head back to face the front. Josh gives in.

 

His head stiffens into a hollow shell, the eye sockets fully melding with the ear holes, leaving a perfect metal helmet, meant to house a pony. Concepts of humanity begin to fade away, along with his ability to move, and Josh lets them. After all, he wasn't meant to have an identity, other than the identity of his wearer. He was an it, and it was armor. A puppet, moved by an internal master. Armor is not meant to move, unless moved by the will of its master. Armor have no thoughts, master will think for it. Armor... have...

 

Two red wisps of light evaporate, leaving behind a perfect suit of plate armor, fitting for a normal pony to wear.

 

Somewhere in Canterlot, a bat pony dons their armor, ready to serve their mistress of eternal night...