You find Twilight at her desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and piles of books, the scene chaotic and cluttered. She looks completely disheveled—her mane is frazzled, and the stress is written all over her face. Standing on her hind legs, she’s furiously writing a letter with a quill, suspended in the air by her magic as usual, destined to be sent to Princess Celestia.

She had just finished talking to Nurse Redheart, who’d brought grim news. There was a sickness spreading through Ponyville, turning ponies wild—feral, even. The normally peaceful town was on edge, as more and more ponies were succumbing to the mysterious illness. Twilight’s worry was palpable as she worked tirelessly, hoping to find answers before it was too late.