PART 1

>"Necromancy? You can't be serious, Anon."
"Serious as I’ll ever be. C’mon, Twilight, it’s… wait, what’s your stupid Not-Halloween called again?”
>”It’s Nightmare Night, and it’s late, Anon. I can’t believe you dragged me all the way out here just to do THIS.”
>When you first brought up the idea of necromancy to Twilight, you had no idea she’d get so riled up about it
>Apparently, that sort of magic is a lost art in Equestria; Starswirl the Bearded, her role model, had some mythical tome detailing it, but it’s been lost to time
>Now, you’re about to show her what science can really do in comparison to magic
>You’re walking together in the old cemetery now, Twilight looking up at you with a mixture of nervousness and annoyance on her face
>”How did you even get into the library anyway?”
“What? Oh, I used the spare key Pinkie gave me.”
>”Pinkie gave you… ugh. Why did I EVER think I could trust her with that?”
“She said things would be more fun if I had it.”
>”Yeah, fun. You shook me awake, screamed some story about Discord being loose again in my half-asleep face, and now you’re telling me it was for nothing at all?”
“Not nothing. You have no idea what I just discovered today. C’mon, keep up!”
>You climb the next low hill, the dim yellow lantern lights of Ponyville far behind you
>Ponies keep their dead far away from their living, for fear of some kind of superstitious curse that will manifest if the soul of a dead person transfers… well, it’s all made up anyway
>For creatures so familiar with real, tangible magic, ponies have all sorts of crazy beliefs with no basis in reality
>So now, about two miles north of the furthest northern stretch of the town, the two of you pass between the simple headstones of ponies long past
>”I thought we already had this conversation, Anon. There’s no surviving spell for resurrection. Once a pony’s gone, they’re gone for good, and not even Starswirl could bring them back without terrible consequences. They came back deformed, they came back… something else.”
“Look, Twilight. I’m doing this for you more than anybody… er, anypony. That’s why I brought you along. I think you’re the most rational of everyone I’ve met here thus far, and certainly the most interested in what I’ve got to offer you.”
>”Offer? If this is about that thing you talked about when you were drunk…”
“What? No, Jesus. Get your mind out of the gutter, horse.”
>”YOU get your mind out of the gutter! You’re the one that said it! ‘Oh, Twilight, why don’t we just get some tanning oil, get one of Rarity’s dress mannequins, and…”
“Shhh! Will you stop it! That isn’t what I’m saying!”
>”Then what?”
“I’m talking about science. Human science, Twilight. I’ll say it now so that there’s no confusion between us. I think I can resurrect a dead pony using nothing but what I know from Chemistry 101.”
>Twilight stops in her tracks and stares at you
>It’s a somewhat frightening stare, since you’re not sure whether she’s startled or enraged in this light, but all the same those giant purple eyes are looking into your soul
>What does she think she knows?
>”Anon… if this is some kind of practical joke…”
“It isn’t.”
>”Because the foals all went home at nine, and I thought I could finally get some sleep for once, and if you’ve brought me out here just to terrify me with one of your stupid practical jokes…”
“I’m not.”
>”Then you can just call it quits right now. Let me guess, is Pinkie hiding behind that tree there? Is she going to jump out all covered in corn syrup and toilet paper?”
>You sigh
>You completely expected this reaction, but you’re not going to get annoyed by it
>It’s natural, after all, to react this way when you’re at risk of getting your entire worldview overturned
>But this knowledge was presented to you so suddenly, so startlingly, that you knew you had no option but to test it in her presence
>If it doesn’t work, then you can both just pretend like this never happened, right?
>But if it does work… then you’ll have Twilight as a witness
>And you doubt anypony will have reason to doubt her when she backs you up
>So you kneel down and rest your hand on her wither, causing Twilight to spook away at first but then gradually become comfortable with your touch
“Twilight, this could be big. This could be the most important discovery you or I have ever made. Didn’t I teach you about the atomic structure to the best of my abilities? Didn’t I supply you with Maxwell’s equations, and their gravitational equivalents?”
>”Yes. But you’re also an insane person who delights in playing tricks on me. And to pick Nightmare Night of all nights for some hackneyed experiment with raising the dead… I’m not buying it.”
“Look. Pony bodies are flesh and blood, just like humans, right?”
>”Well… not exactly like humans. Pony cells are still mostly water and what you call carbon, but we lack nitrogen. You confirmed that much already. We have silicate compounds instead.”
“Hence why I need these.”
>You pull the case of nitrate supplements out of your pocket and juggle it in your hand
“Your proteins are silicon-based. Your muscles, your skin, your manes, your DNA… hell, I thought you were all artificial when I first examined you on a microscopic level. Some kind of robotics experiment cooked up by a demigod. But when I realized you weren’t, that you’re entirely organic, my next question was this: why don’t ponies EXHALE silicates? I mean, we carbon-based lifeforms feed our plant cousins with the nitrogen we exude, just as they feed us in turn with oxygen. So how does the cycle work here in Equestria? When you breathe out, what does your breath carry?”
>Twilight scratches her chin with one hoof and then brushes her mane nervously
>”Um… I don’t remember. You told me once, but it’s slipped my mind.”
“I’ll give you a hint: I’m not gasping for breath right now, nor are my blood vessels exploding. The air composition in Equestria is nearly identical to that of Earth; roughly 80% nitrogen with enough oxygen to sustain my species without any sort of breathing apparatus.  Ponies, and by extension all animal species in Equestria, still exhale nitrogen. That in turn is absorbed by plants, who produce the oxygen you and I breathe, yadda yadda.”
>”You didn’t tell me this part before. What’s in the duffle bag, anyway?”
“A few things. For starters, this.”
>You throw the black bag off your shoulder and unzip it, producing from its folds a periodic chart you brought with you when you were transported here
“Recognize this?”
>Twilight giggles
>”I should. You only emphasized its importance about a million times when we were first sharing information.”
>You point to the square labeled ‘N’
”Nitrogen. Element 7. Atomic weight approximately 14.006 u, that’s seven protons and seven neutrons. What’s seven times two?”
>”Fourteen. I may be smaller than you, Anon, but I’m not in grade school.”
“Element 14. Silicon. Atomic weight 28.084 u, fourteen protons and fourteen neutrons in its base state, but most commonly found in nature as one of an assortment of oxide compounds.”
>You lick your lips in anticipation of Twilight’s expected reaction
“Semiconductor.”
>Surprisingly, this single word doesn’t immediately make the sparks fly, as Twilight continues to merely look at you
>”You’re saying… silicon turns to nitrogen within a pony’s body?”
“I’m saying it occurs instantaneously, that as soon as the compound within you that’s analogous to our own ATP carrier degenerates into waste silicates, those silicates at some point during the exhalation process fission into nitrates. Fourteen divided by two, Twilight. Do you see?”
>”You told me… you told me fission… you told me it was a dangerous process. Destructive!”
>Growing tired of kneeling, you stand and continue, letting Twilight follow closely behind
>Though this time, she doesn’t follow; instead, she stands her ground, as though demanding an answer
“The horizon’s nice this time of night. There’s a bit of a glow to it.”
>”Don’t, Anon. You told me—”
“I told you that nuclear fission is what powers the atomic bomb. I told you it also powers nuclear energy sources. When stabilized, it can result in something beautiful, something highly efficient. When unstable, it can cause devastation. Within your body, Twilight… within every pony’s body… well, this is only theoretical, of course. I’ve had no way of proving it until now.”
>”Tell me.”
>You’re surprised by the command in her tone
>You suppose she does have to wrangle her friends from time to time in saving the world, or whatever it is they do when they’re not just jacking it over the power of friendship
“Within every pony’s body, there may well be a miniature nuclear reactor. Some miracle of biology, something crafted by a divine hand, what have you… but the energy that powers your heart, your brain, your everything, is nuclear in nature. Very small amounts at a time, but when concentrated in bursts… well, you didn’t think a unicorn’s magical energy came from nowhere, did you? The pegasus’ ability to lift their body off the ground with those tiny wings? An earth pony’s feats of impossible strength?”
>”No… that can’t be, Anon. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then magic is…”
“Magic is a force I’ll probably never understand. But if this works out, then I’ll at least know how ponies are able to use it without destroying themselves. Which brings me to the next item in my little bag here, and… by the way, do you know if there’s any rhyme or reason to the layout of this place?”
>”Uh?”
>Twilight shakes her head and finally starts to trot behind you
>”I’m still trying to process what you just said to me. Nuclear fission within ponies... but yes, the cemetery’s apparently organized by year, but there’s always a few outliers who—”
“Never mind. I found it.”
>”Found what?”
>You gesture ahead of you at the headstone you’ve been searching for
>”’Pumpkin Spice, 939-957. Our little unicorn. May she rest in harmony.’ Only eighteen. That’s horrible.”
“It’s just what I need. A young unicorn, the body preferably between thirty and fifty years old. Under these conditions…”
>Before you can even pull more than the hilt of the shovel you brought with you out of the bag, Twilight realizes it
>”Anon, no.”
>The magenta pony backs away from you and stands fiercely, her horn glowing with elemental magic
>”If you’re even considering what I think you’re considering, then I won’t hesitate to stun you right here and now. I’ve never stunned a friend before, but—”
“That’s what you consider me? Your friend?”
>”I…”
>The magic in Twilight’s horn dims slightly, giving you an opportunity to move closer
>”Of course you’re my friend, Anon.”
“Then don’t fight me on this. Have you never considered what your precious Starswirl had to do to test his own necromancy spells? You think he never plundered a graveyard?”
>”It was a different time. And that’s neither here nor there. If you want to play with cadavers, then you can go ask the mortician, but I won’t go along with this.”
“No. You just think you won’t. You hope you won’t. See, Twilight, the process that gives your body energy is both simpler and far more difficult to replicate than with humans. We can stimulate human corpses with electrical impulses, but we can do nothing to restore brain activity. To put it in the simplest terms, we don’t conduct well enough. It isn’t self-sustaining like a chain reaction is. But you… if we could get Pumpkin Spice here breathing again, if we could stimulate her lungs…”
>”Then WHAT? Even if you could do all that, she’d still be vegetative! She’d have no memories, she’d have no… oh. Oh, Celestia. That’s why I’m really here, isn’t it?”
>You can do nothing but grin, and plant the shovel deep into the earth
“You’ve got experience with restoring memories, haven’t you, Twilight Sparkle?”

PART 2

>In the end, she went along with it
>You knew from the beginning she would, that she only needed a little convincing that what you’re doing has merit
>If it were just digging up and defiling a corpse, then sweet little Twilight Sparkle, guardian of friendship, would want nothing to do with it
>But if it were for science, and if it had a chance of working, well then…
>”This thing is heavy, Anon. And I’m afraid we’re going to be seen. Will you hurry up?”
“Relax. Everyone’s just gonna think we’re carrying a decoration or something. Look around, huh? There are fake coffins everywhere.”
>You point out the Carousel Boutique across the street, where Rarity has lovingly positioned several of her mannequins in horrific poses as they rise out of wooden caskets like zombies
>”But this one’s REAL… and the smell, sweet Celestia…”
“Everyone’s inside, Twi. The party’s over. And besides, even if we did get caught, what’s the harm? It’s a science experiment, nothing more.”
>With Twilight’s levitation spell assisting you on one end, the two of you haul the coffin containing Pumpkin Spice’s body through the candlelit streets of Ponyville
>The air’s quiet at this hour, even on Nightmare Night; with all the foals back inside enjoying the spoils of their trick-or-treating, the festivities have died down
>You’ve seen a few ponies strolling here and there, but none of them have paid you much mind
>This really is the perfect night for something like this…
>“What makes you think this body’s even going to be able to sustain life, Anon? Despite all the scary movies you might’ve seen, if a body hasn’t got a brain at all it’s not going to come back to life.”
”Ponies decompose slower than humans, don’t they? That’s what you told me.”
>“Slower doesn’t mean not at all. This body was buried almost forty-five years ago, it’s not going to be a pretty sight.”
>You sigh as the weight of the casket starts to get to you
>What kind of wood is this, tungstenwood?
“I couldn’t get a more recent one, those parts of the cemetery are more frequented. We don’t want someone tripping and falling into the hole we just dug out and blowing the whole thing before it even gets started. But more so than that, you also told me unicorn bodies are a bit less susceptible to the effects of age than other ponies due to their intrinsic magical field.”
>”But aging isn’t the same as decomposition. Aging is cellular breakdown, right? And decomposition is mostly bacterial in nature.”
“Partly. But the biggest cause of that breakdown is the shortening of telomeres in chromosomes, and—”
>”Chromosomes? That thing you told Rainbow Dash she has too many of?”
>You stifle a chuckle, and continue
“Yes, those.”
>”She should really get that checked out.”
“Telomeres are protein caps for our DNA. Humans have them, ponies have them. The amino acids in YOURS, however, contain silicates. Silicates we can electrically polarize and isolate.”
>”And if I applied a restoring charm just to those silicates in a static field… Anon, you’re a genius!”
“I like to try.”
>”But wait… all this extra work, just because the body isn’t as fresh as it could’ve been? There were other workarounds, you know.”
“Avoiding detection wasn’t the only reason I chose a body this old, Twilight. We can reverse the effects of the decomposition using telomere restoration, but not only is that assuming the DNA is intact, but also that the body won’t just explode into fluffy little bits as soon as we charge every cell in it at once. I did some rough math, and it looks like a cadaver thirty to fifty years old would have just enough silicate deposition to let us charge it, but not enough to cause a catastrophe like that. It’s a safe zone, if you will.”
>”I still don’t feel right about what we did back there. What we’re about to do.”
“Look, Twilight, the worse that might happen is that we shock a body and nothing happens. That’ll be the case if the brain’s already got too much missing to regenerate when we fire the telomeres off. But the telomeres of an eighteen-year old should be long enough that regeneration shouldn’t be a problem with an isolated burst, and even if, say, 70% of the brain is still there, we might just be in business.”
>”And if this doesn’t work the first time… you promise we’ll just go right back and bury this pony again?”
“Bottom of my black, twisted heart. Well, what do you know? We’re here.”
>The arched doorway of Twilight’s tree home stretches over you, and you practically kick in the door just so that you can set this casket down sooner
>”Be quiet, Anon! Spike’s sleeping, you know.”
“Would he tell anybody if he knew what we were doing?”
>”I… I don’t think so. He can keep a secret.”
“Good. Then go wake him up, we could use an extra pair of hands… er… claws.”
>While Twilight heads upstairs to retrieve her faithful assistant, you set the casket down gently on a tabletop and carefully unhinge the lid
>Now that you think about it, you never did even check to see if there was even a body inside… that would’ve been awkward
>But sure enough, you open the lid fully, and below you lies the small, withered body of Pumpkin Spice
>Bacteria in Equestria must really like hair, because the first thing you notice is that she’s completely bald save for a few short strands of pale orange mane
>Her fur is the color of cardboard, either naturally or due to decomposition or both, and it’s matted and moldy in spots but mostly intact
>Her muzzle is eaten through; so many mucus membranes attracted a lot of hungry customers, because her teeth are totally exposed through what used to be her lips and her nostrils are about three times the size they should be
>Other than that, however, aside from a few sticky puddles here and there where certain things used to be, she almost looks like she’s sleeping
>Her eyes… you wonder if her eyes remain
>You part the lids with your forefinger and thumb, and while they’ve glossed over and lost their pigment the eyes are also intact
>God, decomposition in Equestria is fucking bananas…
>You close the eyes and lift her head and neck together so as not to break anything
>There’s no apparent decay in the brain from the outside, but just to be safe you’re going to cut her open and see for yourself
>”Anon? He’s up. He’ll be down in a few minutes.”
>You turn around to see Twilight silhouetted against the staircase
“Good. Thanks. He’s got no problem working with a dead body?”
>Twilight squirms in place
>”I told him… that it’s a decoration. For a haunted house. That you’re trying to make it look as realistic as possible.”
“Pffft. Nice cover. What’ll he think when he smells it?”
>”The smell’s not THAT bad, I doubt he’ll—oh Celestia!”
>Twilight reels away from the sight of the corpse as soon as she lays eyes on it
>For a second it looks like she’s going to retch, but after a few heavy breaths she seems to control herself
“All good?”
>”N-no, it’s not ‘all good,’ Anon! Celestia, it’s terrible…”
“What exactly did you expect? And if it makes you feel any better, human corpses look and smell a hell of a lot worse. This is downright peachy in comparison.”
>”Fine. I’ll try to suppress my conscience for a little while.”
“That’s the spirit.”
>Twilight approaches your makeshift operating table, and together you lift the body entirely out of the coffin so that you can toss the latter aside
>You give the limp body entirely over to Twilight’s levitation field, then lay a few sheets of cloth over the table for her to rest it on
>”You know, this could’ve waited. Under different circumstances, this wouldn’t have felt as wrong as it does. We could’ve gotten a cadaver from donation, we could’ve made a PROPER procedure out of it, we could’ve… why are you smiling?”
“Does any of that sound like something I’d do, Twilight?”
>”What, planning ahead? NOT throwing something insane together on a whim? You’re right, what was I thinking…”
“Speaking of throwing something together, I’m still expecting someone to show up…”
>”Show up? Don’t tell me you invited… no. Please no.”
>”YES!”
>Before Twilight even has a chance to smack her hoof against her forehead, the front door bursts open again, and a terrible shadow is cast across the floor
>It’s bobbing up and down, practically trembling from excitement and fear, and it’s also covered in… wait, are those bits of rubber?
>”Nonny! You didn’t tell me Twilight would be here too! Now it’s a party!”
>”Pinkie…”
>You step forward to greet the pink pony, but she bounds twice as fast towards you and nearly tackles you to the floor
“Guh… you hit harder than you think you do, Ponks.”
>”I didn’t hurt you, did I, Anon?”
“Nahhh. You know I’m made of tougher stuff than that. And how could Twilight not be in on this? We’re meeting at her place.”
>”Ohhhh… didn’t even think of that!”
>”Yes, and without my permission, mind you. Apparently the two of you had this all figured out before you even clued me in, did you?”
>You scoop up Pinkie and squeeze her against your side, which elicits a giggle from her
“I gave her the broad strokes. If ya know what I mean…”
>”Heehee! Don’t be WEIRD, Nonny!”
“I could say the same to you. What in the hell are you wearing?”
>Pinkie jumps down and does a twirl, showing off what looks to be a bunch of brightly colored rubber strands taped to every inch of her body
>”I’m the scariest thing known to any partygoer… a POPPED BALLOON! Nopony likes a balloon after it’s been popped!”
“You never cease to amaze. So, you ready to get started?”
>”Ready freddy! Let’s take a look at the—oh!”
>Pinkie rushes up to examine the corpse strewn across the table, laughing as she pokes at various parts of its withered figure
>”It’s so squishy!”
>Twilight sighs
>”Wouldn’t have thought she’d have the stomach for this… she knows that’s a real body, right?”
“Like I said, broad strokes. She doesn’t know where we got it from, just that we’re going to be reanimating it. Since she’s got a penchant for getting herself out of sticky situations, I figured I’d keep her handy. For luck.”
>”Luck. We’re going to need a lot of that, Anon.”
>Together, you and Twilight move to join Pinkie around Pumpkin Spice’s body, with you donning surgical gloves as they watch
>You reach into your duffle bag and pull out a scalpel, which you carefully incise into the top of the head
>Twilight cringes, while Pinkie seems more intensely focused than she’s ever been in her life
>After cutting vertically about three inches, you pull apart the folds and examine the brain
>Thank God ponies are so soft, otherwise this would take forever
>The brain is stale and dark, and there’s no blood flow from the incision, but it doesn’t seem to be decomposed in any meaningful capacity
“Let’s see… there are patterns of decay around the occipital lobe and prefrontal cortex, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. If your regenerative spell does its job, Twilight, those should be restored given enough patience.”
>”There ARE limits to what my spell can do, Anon. If we can isolate the telomeres and prompt rapid cellular growth, fine, but who’s to say there won’t be mutations? Who’s to say the regenerated tissue will come back just the way it was?”
“The brain’s a complex instrument, but like everything else in the body it’s replaced bit by bit over time. Leave the details to the DNA. It won’t be an exact science, but it’ll be close enough for a first go.”
>”Close enough? We’re talking about reanimating this pony. What if she comes to life and she’s blind, deaf, and screaming in agony?”
“Then we put her out of her misery. That was the arrangement, wasn’t it?”
>”Nonny… will this pony remember who she was? Will she… be a zombie?”
“Twilight and I discussed this earlier. Twilight, why don’t you tell her?”
>The unicorn sighs, and reluctantly complies with your request
>As both ponies continue watching your fingers pry at the corpse’s scalp, she begins to speak
>”I have a rudimentary understanding of memory restoration magic. When Anonymous arrived in Equestria, his memories weren’t complete. He knew who he was and that he was in a strange place, but the details of his arrival eluded him due to trauma he’d endured in the transportation process. I was able to acquire a tome from Celestia’s collection in Canterlot and performed an incantation that restored those details. Restoring a pony’s entire memory from a cadaver, however… that’s another story.”
“See, Pinkie, as a raging fedoralord it’s difficult for me to invoke the concept of the soul, but the latent magical fields surrounding the brains of ponies endure even after brain death. They last indefinitely so long as the matter keeps its relative shape, and once we jumpstart the respiratory process Twilight will be able to… how did you put it, Twilight?”
>”Ugh. I MAY be able to perform the same memory restoration spell after everything else is functioning again, including the brain. But the problem is that the spell uses existing memories to extrapolate the lost ones, albeit extraordinarily accurately. If we let the jumpstarted brain go for too long without performing the spell, the old and new memories might start to overlap. It could… complicate things. Corrupt the mind.”
>Pinkie swoons at this
>”So it WILL be a zombie! Nonny, don’t let the zombie eat our brains! Hoh! What if it eats YOUR brains!? If human brains are tastier than pony brains, that might buy us some time, Twilight!”
>You chuckle, removing your fingers from the brain tissue and stitching up the hole hastily
“Relax, Ponks. Nobody’s eating anybody’s brains. We’re talking some mild disorientation, maybe a readjustment period, but now we’re talking extreme hypotheticals, and there’s no point in that. All we need to say right now is that the memories are the key to the consciousness. We need Pumpkin Spice here to recognize herself first before she can recognize her surroundings.”
>Twilight peers at the body’s head, particularly into its lifeless eyes
>”Is the… ahem, incision properly stitched?”
“Believe so. Where’s Spike?”
>”I don’t know. Maybe it’s better he’s not down here for this.”
“He can suit himself. Ready for the moment of truth?”
>”As I’ll ever be. How are we going to charge the telomeres?”
>You decide to answer Twilight’s question with action rather than words, reaching again into your duffle bag
>From it, you produce a large battery, a bundle of jumper cables, syringes and needles, saline solution, a voltage regulator, insulation pads, a microscope, three pairs of goggles, a pacemaker, and a respirator valve
>Simple, but effective
>”Celestia, is that bag bottomless, Anon?”
“Nope. Just very heavy. Pinkie, jot this down, will you?”
>”Aye aye, Cap’n Nonny!”
>Pinkie dashes out of the room in the blink of an eye, and returns with a notepad and pen drawn between her lips, ready to write
“Alright, to review. Step one is polarizing and reanimating the telomeres. Regenerating the lost cells so that respiration can begin.”
>You fill two syringes with saline solution and insert them into Pumpkin Spice’s throat and hindleg, much to Twilight’s dismay
“We need an arc through the heart. That should stimulate the brain if we can get enough live blood flowing.”
>You carefully pull the plugs from each syringe and replace them with cable ends, attaching the other ends to the battery on the table
>With the regulator then completing the circuit, you gradually increase the voltage passing through the body
>Slow and steady…
“Mary Shelley, eat your heart out.”
>”What was that?”
“Nothing.”
>The low hum of your apparatus raises in pitch as the resistance within the body diminishes
>You cut a small portion of dead flesh out of the body’s flank and pass it under the microscope
>Once in focus, the dead cells seem to be wavering slightly from the current which had just been flowing through them
>You eye Twilight across the table; she’s looking more nervous than ever
>Pinkie, on the other hand, is waiting attentively on the wings for her next order
“Just so this is repeatable, Pinkie, go ahead and mark down the current voltage. Twilight, I’m going to raise it slightly, because I think the proteins might be close to being ionized. The silicates are all about to align. I need you to focus very, very hard. This is going to require some precision.”
>”I… I’m ready. I think.”
“You sure?”
>”I’m sure.”
>Nodding, you grab the respirator and pull it over what’s left of Pumpkin Spice’s mouth, also making sure that her throat is wide open enough to accept oxygen
>You align the pump and start its cycle, listening to its low, artificial breath as oxygen is pumped into the space of her lungs
“Look into the microscope, Twilight. Envision the telomeres, the proteins within the very DNA of this body. Watch them align with one another, charged by the system. You need to restore them, Twilight. You need to cast a restorative spell on just a single one of those telomeres. Doing so will cause a chain reaction. Not THE chain reaction we ultimately want, but still necessary. Can you see it?”
>”I… I see something. I see a strange shape. I see something floating in the blackness. What you’re describing… I can feel its energy. I know it’s there, if I can just… yes. I think I can do it. I really think I’ve got a hold of it, Anon.”
“Good. On my mark, fire it.”
>In an instant, you spike the allotted voltage, and the hum reaches a fever pitch
“Mark!”
>Twilight gasps as her violet aura cracks through the air, arcing towards a single point on Pumpkin Spice’s outstretched body
>And then, a miracle happens
>Color returns to the corpse’s coat, even if just a little bit; a few of the decayed regions strewn across the surface of the body begin to close and heal
>Twilight’s spell isn’t healing the body, per se; it just accelerated the natural processes of the body to an extreme degree
>But what this means, ultimately, is…
“It’s working. By God, it’s working. Pinkie, keep that respirator tight!”
>”Stat!”
>”Ohhh, Anon, it’s starting to hurt!”
“Just a few moments longer, Twilight! It’s going to be self-sustaining soon!”
>Now that the body’s self-repairing, you plunge the pacemaker into the soup of flesh surrounding the heart, flicking it to life and letting it stabilize the organ
>Though there’s no blood flowing yet, there will be if you can just make the bitch breathe…
>Pinkie clamps the respirator tight around the dead skin on Pumpkin’s muzzle, which is currently transmuting into what you’d expect from a pony
>The lips swell and surround the exposed teeth, the nostrils close into a long pointed shape, and the equine contours of her face become more apparent than ever
>You watch the pump push pure oxygen into her lungs, imagine the processes occurring within, that somewhere along the line those silicate carriers are splitting at the nuclear level, splitting into nitrogen…
>”Anon!”
“Almost there!”
>”Anon, I can’t… I can’t hold the spell… I’m slipping…”
“Twilight… God, there’s too much blockage! There’s got to be a way to permit passage, jumpstart the chain reaction… if just a single fission reaction occurs, the rest’ll go off like dynamite!”
>”Twilight… ugh, what’s with all the noise? I thought you were—”
>”Spike! Celestia, Spike…”
>”Twilight!”
>Out of the corner of your eye, a small purple figure launches itself down the staircase on stubby legs, rushing towards Twilight’s shuddering form
>He grips Twilight’s side to keep her upright; she looks like she’s about to pass out, after all
>”What are you doing? What’s happening?!”
“Glad you could make it, little fella! Now, can you do me a favor?”
>”A favor? Mister Anonymous, I really have to—HEY!”
>You pluck Spike off the ground and steady Twilight against your own leg, putting the dragon face to face with the body on the table
>”AAAHHHHHHHHHH!”
>You pull the respirator to the side, leaving Pumpkin Spice’s mouth wide open and level with Spike’s
“BREATHE!”
>With one hard slap to the back, you force Spike to spew green fire into the open mouth and down into the lungs
>With any luck, it should open the cavity for good, and the regenerative spell should take care of any incendiary damage within
>You set down the apparently traumatized Spike and wrap the respirator mask back around the body’s mouth, letting the pump do its work
>Then, it happens
>Pumpkin Spice’s barrel begins to heave, first a little, then a lot
>Up and down, up and down…
“Release it, Twilight! Now!”
>”Agh!”
>Twilight’s regenerative arc dies, and her rapid breathing matches that of the body on the table
>She stays on her hooves, though; that’s the important part
>Her usefulness here hasn’t yet expired
“Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Pinkie, make sure the breathing stays normal. Don’t let apnea occur, that’s a break in breathing. If that happens, and it becomes erratic, then we can’t get the brain working again.”
>”Roger, Nonny!”
>”Anonymous!”
>Spike’s stout form looks you squarely in the eye, and you meet his frenzied gaze
>”Twilight told me this was just going to be a decoration! Is this a real body?”
“As real as the world is round, my friend. And we’re about to make it sing.”
>”I’m gonna be sick…”

PART 3

“Pinkie. Checklist! What have we done so far?”
>Pinkie flips through her notepad from behind the respirator pump, which is now pushing a steady pulse of air into Pumpkin’s body
>”Ummm… we went to the park dressed as frogs, we played Strip Monopoly, we already set our tongues on fire…”
“Not that checklist. The one for right now.”
>”Oh! Oopsie!”
>Pinkie flips forward a few pages, and you can see she’s drawn a crude flip animation of her whacking a corpse with a hammer on the margins
>Maybe this was a mistake after all…
>”We polarized the telo-thingies. Twilight made a biiiig lightshow and made all the holes in the body seal up. You put your little metal heartbeat machine around the heart to make it beat, but I don’t think it’s actually doing anything…”
“Not yet, at least. But I had to get it in there while the regeneration spell was still active. No more super-healing now that Twilight’s recovering. Twilight, you okay?”
>The purple pony nods at you from the corner, where Spike is tending to her
>She’s not injured or anything, but you can only imagine how much strain casting that powerful a spell for so long can put on her body and mind
>Best to let her rest until she’s needed again for the memory spell
“What came after the pacemaker, Pinkie?”
>”Ooh, I know this one! You made Spike breathe fire right down her throat! That was fantabulous!”
“To clear the tracheal passage of any accumulation, yes. With the respirator pump on her, her body’s naturally doing what it does best: converting silicon into nitrogen. A goddamn miracle of nature, but somehow you’ve all got fission reactors for adenosines. Every time you little marshmallow horses breathe in, you should blow up from the sheer energy release. But you don’t. You don’t…”
>”So what’s next, Nonny?”
>You scratch your chin and take some time to just observe the body you’ve been working on for what seems like an hour
>She’s still braindead, but with her decayed cells restored, her lungs acting as a much more efficient generator than your little battery kit could ever hope to manage, and her heartbeat stabilized, there’s only one thing left to do
>She needs blood, fast
>Her body was a husk when you got to it, mostly intact but still dried out, and since you can’t be sure of her blood type you really don’t have a reliable donor on hand
>The marrow…
>That’s it! If Twilight’s regeneration spell was causing ALL the bodily functions of Pumpkin Spice to work in overtime, accelerating the very growth of her DNA…
“Pinkie. Scalpel.”
>Pinkie nods and hands you the shimmering blade
>Pony bones are soft enough that you won’t even need a bonesaw for this, it’ll be like cutting into a cold block of cheese
>For that same reason, you’re especially careful not to break anything as you slide the knife deep into the body’s hindleg, into her femur
>The stem cells within marrow, at least for humans, are prohibited from crossing a certain membrane without a specific type of protein found only in mature blood cells
>If you can cut just carefully and precisely enough to not damage the membrane, while still providing direct access to the outer region of the marrow…
>”Look Nonny, look! Blood!”
>Blood!
>As you twist the scalpel within the bone, causing some minor fractures but nothing that can’t be healed, a small spurt of dark blood sprays out of the wound
>Your marrow theory was correct; in only a matter of minutes, with Twilight’s spell targeting the proteins in Pumpkin’s cells, her long-dead marrow was able to produce this much mature blood from nothing at all
>You gesture loosely, and Pinkie seems to get your meaning, grabbing the IV tube and clean syringes left over at the bottom of your bag
>You nest one syringe inside the small cavity you’ve created, watching it fill with new blood, then connect it by tube to another syringe that you plunge into the body’s foreleg at the vein
>The blood pumps steadily from one syringe to the other as you manually draw it out from the marrow, until enough has been drawn that you feel it’s enough to survive on
“She’ll be wanting for more blood if she wakes up, but this’ll at least get the brain going again.”
>The heart’s still beating by the pacemaker’s command, and you can tell that the blood’s being circulated just by the way the pallor is beginning to return to Pumpkin Spice’s face
>For all intents and purposes, she’s “alive” right now; she has a pulse, she’s breathing on her own, she’s generating energy from the leftover protein deposits, and her motor functions should all be working now that the brain’s getting blood
>All that’s left now is to bring back the brain, and it’s easier said than done with what just happened
>You leave the body momentarily in Pinkie’s hooves to join Twilight and Spike by the bookshelves at the back of the room
>When you weren’t looking, Spike seems to have retrieved an ice pack and is now rubbing Twilight’s horn up and down with it
>Kinky
>You want her to get all the recovery she can afford, but at the same time she can’t wait too long
>For all you know, the brain could be rewriting memories at this very moment
“Twilight. How’s it hanging?”
>Spike gives you a halfhearted sigh while Twilight grimaces in pain
>”It’s a little better. That spell took more out of me than I thought. When I was in it, I felt like I had it, even though it hurt… but the second I released it, it just struck back at me that much harder. My aura was in a feedback through the whole body. It’s like… it’s like her magical field was fighting my own… even though that can’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
>Twilight makes a face like she’s trying to roll her eyes at you, but just ends up clenching down and closing them
>”Because… she’s dead, Anon. A unicorn’s magical envelope persists after death, that’s true, but it should have no direction. It should just be a static field with no particular force attached to it. This one felt like a raging river… it engulfed me once I was inside it, and when I tried to get out it dashed my against the rocks.”
“This may have been a worse idea than I thought.”
>”Y-you think? Anon, that thing there, that corpse… we’ve brought back everything but its brain. If there’s something wrong with her magic, I mean, if it’s skewed in some way or if some part of her lives on in it… well, not only would that change everything we know about death, but it would present some insurmountable challenges for us right now.”
“The only insurmountable challenge I see right now is retrieving her memories while our only unicorn is out of commission.”
>”I can do it, Anon. I can… oh… it’s coming back. Just a few more moments…”
“We may not have that.”
>”Celestia, Anonymous, don’t you have any conscience at all?”
>Spike’s pointing one long claw at you as he makes his accusatory stand here in the dark
>Outside, the wind’s howling, and the moonlight cast from the window is barely enough to see the anger on his face
>”You made her do this! You made her cast some spell she’s never cast before, and now you’re asking her to do it again? Now that she’s hurt so badly? It’s not happening. I w-won’t let it happen. I—”
“Spike.”
>From your kneeling position, you stand tall, towering over Spike’s miniscule frame
>With your black clothes, surgical gloves, scalpel and the most serious face you can muster, you imagine you must look like the Grim Reaper himself to this little dragon
>You’ve always felt a little bad for Spike, and you’re glad to see that he’s got some balls under all that fluff
>But you’re not going to let him get in the way of progress, not after you’ve come so far
>Spike’s brave face melts away, and his eyes are on the gleaming knife in your hand
>You’d never in a million years use it on him, but you’re not sure he knows that
>”Spike… it’s okay…”
>Twilight’s voice is weak, and she reaches out to push him aside with one hoof
>”I can do it… I can cast the spell.”
>You grin, bending down to lift her back onto her hooves
“That’s the spirit, bookhorse. Because we may not have much time.”
>”Nonny! Something’s happening!”
>You divert your attention away from the struggling Twilight back to the makeshift surgical table, where Pinkie seems to be getting frantic
>You stride across the room to calm her down and to see what’s exactly the problem
>When you reach the edge of the table, you’re greeted with a sight you didn’t expect
>First, the eyes have begun to move in patterns resembling REM cycles, spinning wildly in their sockets
>The irises have taken on an orange hue, very similar to that of her mane
>And speaking of her mane, it’s also begun to grow out in silky tufts; she’s no longer bald, at least
>But the more pressing matter is that her breathing seems to have become erratic, her chest heaving up and down in random intervals, some intakes larger than others
”Damnit, Pinkie, I told you to keep your hooves on the pump! To stabilize if this happened!”
>Pinkie’s eyes start to water, and she gives you the saddest look you’ve ever seen
>”I-I-I’m sorry, Nonny! I did my b-best!”
>God, you forgot how delicate ponies are…
>”It’s fine, Ponks. Don’t worry about it. But actually do worry, because now it’s gonna be harder to reset the cycle. When did her eyes start spinning like that?”
>”A-about ten seconds before I called. They opened wider, too. Nonny, I reaaaaaally don’t like this.”
>”Yeah, me neither.”
>Spike strolls up beside you and lifts himself over the edge of the table to get a better look at the subject
>”This isn’t right. This can’t be how it’s supposed to look.”
“The energy output… gah, I should’ve considered this. She’s not burning any calories, she’s just lying there producing. No wonder it’s destabilizing; I bet her heartrate’s all over the place too. Twilight, I’m sorry, but we need you now. The brain has to be stirring by now, she could be responding to all kinds of negative stimuli. If you don’t rewire her brain for us, she’s going to end up either vegetative or…”
>”Or what? What, Anonymous?”
“Don’t worry about it. It won’t happen. Twilight!”
>”I… I’m on it. Just…”
>Twilight manages to lift herself up and weakly march across the room, her horn glowing a dim blueish hue
>She hasn’t got much left in her, but the act itself shouldn’t take much energy; it’s the precision of the spell that counts
>Her mind doesn’t look so geared towards precision either, though…
>You think about what she said about Pumpkin’s latent magical field resisting her own
>You’re not going to pretend you know much about magic, so if Twilight thinks it unusual or potentially dangerous then you’re inclined to believe her
>It makes some kind of sense, after all; these things persist after death, and they’re manipulated by their users, so if a user is dead then the field should be dormant, static
>But it was flowing, and what’s more it was flowing AGAINST Twilight…
>As if it didn’t want to be brought back
“Twilight, cancel that. We’re stopping now. We’re pulling the plug.”
>”Wh-what? Nonny, no! I promise I tried my hardest!”
“It’s not that, Pinkie. It’s… we can’t do this now. Not without knowing more. We flung ourselves into it too fast. We all got sloppy. I got sloppy.”
>Spike smirks
>”Finally grew a conscience, huh Anonymous?”
“Listen here, you little shit—”
>”Anon!”
“Ugh. Listen here, you little poop. The only reason I’m not drop kicking you across the floor right now is because of Twilight. You may not believe it, but I care about her safety as much as you do. If casting another spell into that pony’s field is going to hurt her, then we’ve got to keep working to find a safer solution.”
>”Anon… no. It wasn’t that bad! I-I can do it. Watch me.”
>Twilight reaches the table and stares at the pulsing body, the eyes twitching about, the arrhythmic breathing still pumping what little energy into the brain it needs to operate
>She takes on a combative stance, as though she’s trying to prevent herself from getting knocked over, and her aura becomes a tad brighter
“Twilight, come on. Since when are you so enthusiastic about this, anyway?”
>”Since you ROPED me into it, Anon! If I didn’t want to see this happen just like you, I wouldn’t be here! I wouldn’t have helped you dig this body out of a cemetery!”
>”You WHAT?! TWILIGHT!”
>Although Spike explodes at this news, as you expected, your eyes are on Pinkie, who’s looking back at you quizzically
>”Nonny…? Is that true?”
“Damnit… yeah, it’s true. It had to be aged enough, and I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask permission. Better to ask forgiveness, Momma Anonymous always said. God rest her zombie bones.”
>”Then it’s settled. I have to do this. If we’re bringing her back into the world, then we should go for it all the way.”
>”I agree with Twilight! I didn’t stop baking my special ectoplasm-puff cakes early tonight just to BAIL, Nonny!”
>Your mind is racing
>For whatever reason, you thought this would be simpler, just a straightforward process and then BOOM, life!
>You hardly even factored magic into the equation, despite the whole thing relying on Twilight casting her two spells
>But the brain must be working overtime now to fill the space of the lost time with terrible corruptions of past memories
>And those memories in turn are overlapping with the new memories created by this strange new half-alive experience
>If Twilight doesn’t do it now, NOW…
>Ugh
“Fine. FINE! Do it, Twilight! You’re right, you’re all right. I brought Pumpkin Spice back into the world, the least I can do is give her a chance at remembering. There’s no precise moment now, just do it when you’re ready. But do it QUICKLY, she’s overclocking already.”
>After all, the micro-reactors in the cadaver’s very cells are releasing explosive energy into a vessel that’s about to be filled completely, and you don’t know what happens when it overflows
>Twilight nods, determination back on her face, and she gestures at Spike, who’s biting his claws frantically, to move aside
>Pinkie adopts a look of worry too, but it’s mixed with barely-concealed excitement
>”Okay, I’m ready. Just like last time?”
“Just like last time. You made me, an alien, remember my past. How hard could it be for another pony?”
>Twilight breathes in, then out, the dim aura shimmering around her horn brightening rapidly
>Her lips move as though uttering an incantation under her breath, then she grits her teeth and thrusts her head forward
>Sparks turn to a beam of pure violet energy, blasting out of Twilight’s horn and warping around Pumpkin Spice’s shuddering head
>”I see the mind inside! It’s still… still fighting me, but I can ring it in! There’s more darkness than there was in yours, WAY more!”
“Makes sense! She’s been dead!”
>The implements scattered across the makeshift operating table, the scalpels, the syringes, the respirating valve, all vibrate as the intensity in the air rises
>The spell is pushing them away, it’s so powerful!
>Menacing organ music is playing in your head, as you realize that this is really about to happen
>You are no longer Anonymous, you’re Victor goddamn Frankenstein in the flesh!
>”It’s working!”
>It’s working!
>”I can see… I can see what’s at the bottom! I can make it rise! I can make her remember!”
>Make her remember!
>Restore her very being!
>Yes! YES!
>A split second after it matters, you notice that the tools on the table are not being pushed away from the body, but rather attracted to it
>And only the metal ones, at that
>The whole body is conducting, morphing into…
>”Dear Celestia…”
“What is it?!”
>”She’s reforming! She can see how she… I can see how she died!”
“How did she—”
KRAKKOOOOOOOM
>…
>
>
>
>Screaming in your ears
>Whiteness in your eyes
>Horror in your mind
>A psychic explosion, more than anything, but you’re still splayed out on the floor
>You can’t see, you can barely breathe, and there’s a sharp pain in your thigh
>You should’ve seen it before it happened, should’ve seen the way the body was conducting like a wire
>The conductivity was the key, it was the body overcompensating for the lack of discharge
>Everything was working, everything WOULD have worked, had the telomeres not suddenly REVERSED their polarity to prevent the body from physically exploding
>You would laugh to yourself at how obvious it was if you could stand to laugh without passing out
>It’s a natural defense mechanism, how did you THINK the ponies could withstand electromagnetic currents, their chemical composition being what it is?
>The body compensates naturally, if you’d only prepared for this you could’ve prevented…
>But that doesn’t explain the images that were just broadcast into your mind
>Fragments of memories of a life you never lived, someone else’s memories
>Pumpkin Spice’s memories, dredged up from her dead consciousness
“Wh-where… where…”
>Your voice comes out as a dry croak
>Maybe it really is that quiet, or maybe you can’t hear shit at the moment; you can’t even tell
>But when your sight returns, you don’t know what you’ll see
>You don’t know if you WANT to know
>Twilight… where are you, Twilight?
>Where are you?