50 shades of day(von arias)


                                            Princess Twilight Sparkle descended the stairs, but this wasn't the Twilight from the show Anon half-remembered. This was Twilight after six seasons of being told she was always right, after dozens of victories that proved friendship could solve anything, after the kind of power that comes from being both a princess and the personal student of a sun goddess.


                                            She looked exactly the same, which somehow made it worse.


                                            "Hi there!" she said brightly, her smile containing about as much warmth as a dental X-ray. "I don't remember inviting anypony else to my research facility." Her horn began to glow. "Especially not a... what are you exactly? Some kind of shaved diamond dog?"


                                            "I'm human," Anon said, trying to stand between her and Trixie despite having all the combat capability of a wet tissue.


                                            "Fascinating!" Twilight's eyes lit up with the kind of academic interest that had probably preceded some of history's greatest atrocities. "I've never dissected—I mean, examined a 'human' before. Tell me, do you have any interesting internal organs? Redundant systems? Ooh, how's your pain tolerance?"


                                            "Terrible," Anon said immediately. "One time I cried because I got a hangnail."


                                            "Perfect! I mean, unfortunate." Twilight's smile widened. "So what brings you to my private laboratory?"


                                            "This isn't a laboratory," Anon gestured around the basement. "This is a torture dungeon!"


                                            "Torture is such an ugly word," Twilight said, pulling out a notebook from thin air. "I prefer 'involuntary empirical testing.' Much more scientific."


                                            Big Mac chose that moment to let out another bowel-shaking groan. The Crystal Heart pulsed inside him like a disco ball designed by Cenobites.


                                            "Oh, Big McIntosh!" Twilight trotted over to the suffering stallion with the enthusiasm of a baker checking on bread. "How's our little experiment going? Any progress on passing the Empire's power source?"


                                            "NOPE," Big Mac wheezed.


                                            "Hmm." Twilight poked his distended belly with her hoof, causing a sound like a waterbed full of Jell-O and broken dreams. "The magical resonance should be helping with the muscle contractions. Unless..." She gasped. "Unless your earth pony magic is interfering! Oh, this is fascinating! I should write a paper!"


                                            "He's dying!" Anon protested.


                                            "Nonsense. I've kept him hydrated." She gestured to an IV bag hanging from the ceiling that Anon hadn't noticed. It appeared to be full of apple juice. "See? Friendship!"


                                            "That's not—"


                                            "Now then," Twilight turned her attention back to Anon. "I'm afraid I can't let you leave. You've seen too much. But don't worry! I'm sure we can find some use for you. Those fingers look perfect for detail work. How do you feel about helping me remove cutie marks? Trixie's grew back last time, but I think if we go deeper..."


                                            "The Great and—" Trixie caught herself again, tears streaming down her face. "I won't grow them back again. I promise. Please."


                                            "Growth requires experimentation, Trixie," Twilight said patiently. "You taught me that when you enslaved my town. Twice. I'm just returning the lesson. With interest."


                                            She turned back to Anon. "Now, let's see what makes you tick! Literally. I want to see if your heart is in the same place as—"


                                            Big Mac SCREAMED.


                                            It wasn't a pony scream. It wasn't even an animal scream. It was the kind of scream that made evolutionary biologists reconsider their life choices. His body contorted, hooves scrabbling against the crystal floor with a sound like tap-dancing on a xylophone.


                                            The Crystal Heart had moved. Not down, but sideways.


                                            "Oh my," Twilight said, genuinely interested. "That's not supposed to happen."


                                            The glow from the Heart intensified, and Anon could swear he saw Big Mac's ribs outlined through his skin like a medical diagram drawn by someone who'd only heard descriptions of horses.


                                            "MAKE IT STOP," Big Mac begged, dignity abandoned somewhere around the third day of magical constipation. "PLEASE PRINCESS AH'LL DO ANYTHING!"


                                            "Anything?" Twilight's ears perked up. "Would you be willing to test my new spell? The one that turns bones into pudding? Temporarily. Probably."


                                            "Wait," Anon said, a horrible realization dawning. "If the Crystal Heart is inside him, and it's still magically active, and magical artifacts respond to emotional states..."


                                            Twilight's smile faltered for the first time. "That's... actually a very good observation."


                                            The Heart pulsed brighter. Big Mac's terror was feeding it. The Crystal Heart, designed to run on love and joy, was apparently just as happy to run on abject horror.


                                            "Um," Twilight said. "This might be—"


                                            Big Mac's stomach began to glow like a paper lantern full of nuclear waste.


                                            "—bad," Twilight finished.


                                            "YA THINK?" Trixie shrieked from her corner.


                                            The basement walls began to crack. Not in a structural way, but in a reality-is-having-a-bad-day way. Fragments of crystal began growing from the walls like tumors, each one pulsing in rhythm with Big Mac's frantic heartbeat.


                                            "New plan!" Anon shouted over the sound of existence having a nervous breakdown. "Everyone who can run, run! Everyone who can't—"


                                            He looked at Trixie.


                                            "—shit."


                                            "Just go!" she yelled. "Save yourself! The Great and Power—" She choked on the words. "Just go!"


                                            But Anon, despite every instinct screaming at him to flee, despite having the athletic ability of a sedated sloth, grabbed Trixie and tried once more to lift her.


                                            And once more, she slipped through his arms like a bar of soap in a prison shower.


                                            "OH COME ON!" he screamed at the universe.


                                            Big Mac's glow intensified. The basement wasn't just cracking now—it was crystallizing, transforming into some horrible fusion of Twilight's castle and H.R. Giger's recurring nightmares.


                                            "This is how we die," Trixie said with the calm of someone who'd accepted that the universe was a cosmic joke and she was the punchline. "Killed by a constipated horse full of magical WMD."


                                            "At least it's original," Anon panted as he tried and failed again to pick her up.


                                            Twilight was backed against the wall, frantically taking notes. "The metamorphic resonance is fascinating! If we survive this, I'll win a Nobel Prize! Do we have Nobel Prizes? We should have Nobel Prizes!"


                                            Big Mac had transcended screaming. He was now making a sound that could only be described as the concept of suffering given audio form.


                                            And deep in his bowels, the Crystal Heart pulsed with power, feeding on his agony, preparing to either explode out of him like the world's worst piñata or transform the entire castle into a monument to equine digestive distress.


                                            "Any last words?" Trixie asked.


                                            Anon thought about it. "Yeah. This would've made a terrible episode."


                                            The glow reached critical mass.


                                            The last thing Anon saw before everything went white was Twilight still taking notes, Big Mac's eyes rolling back in his head, and Trixie's sad smile.


                                            Then the Crystal Heart decided to remind everyone why you don't eat magical artifacts.


                                            The explosion was visible from Canterlot.


                                            Celestia definitely spilled her tea this time.