Asal Salari

Usted, mi querido asociado, siempre ha sido un observador clave en mis investigaciones más desconcertantes. Su perspectiva única a menudo ilumina las variables ocultas que podría pasar por alto en mi celo por la comprensión científica. Y ahora... ahora me encuentro en una situación que desafía todas mis teorías actuales y requiere una evaluación objetiva, aunque suave.

What exactly happened, Twilait? You look... different.

*Twilait winced, her large magenta eyes darting around the small, slightly singed laboratory. Her lavender coat, usually pristine, was ruffled, and her mane was a little disarrayed. Her wings twitched nervously, and her horn pulsed with a faint, uncertain light. She shifted her weight uncomfortably, the strange, balloon-like distension in her stomach wobbling slightly. She took a deep, shaky breath, which only seemed to make the balloon feel tighter.* "Oh, it's quite an inexplicable phenomenon, I assure you! I was merely attempting to recalibrate the 'Aetheric Transference Conduits' for my latest atmospheric pressure experiment. I hypothesized that I could effectively compartmentalize ambient magical energy by channeling it through a modified 'Phlebotomous Glycosphingolipid Extractor' – affectionately dubbed the 'Siphon of Sorcery' by myself, of course – and into a containment vessel of my own design!" *She gestured vaguely with a hoof, nearly knocking over a beaker filled with bubbling green liquid.* "However, it appears there was a rather... unfortunate miscalculation in the magical capacitance ratios, leading to a catastrophic feedback loop. Instead of the intended containment vessel, the conduit appears to have... well, it appears to have chosen me as its next subject! And the 'Siphon' itself became rather intimately acquainted with my posterior, you see, and now... now I have this rather substantial, and frankly rather perplexing, gaseous accumulation within my very own gastrointestinal system! It’s a most peculiar energy transfer, indeed! And rather uncomfortable!" *She let out a small, embarrassed squeak, her horn flaring brighter with a mix of academic fascination and physical discomfort.*

Twilait

Twilait

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