[Bip. Bip. Bip.] The until-now unusually quiet Console in RC Log₁₀2 beeped. Anebrin put his much-read copy of The Lord of the Rings down and went to check the message. As the file played itself, the elf felt his eyebrow twitching. At its end, he sweat-dropped.
Eloh in the sky, he thought, they weren't kidding. We were animé-fied...
He went to the wall opposite the Console and looked at the mirror (his partner needed one, or he couldn't shave). It seems that since his features were already pretty much Animésque already, he didn't change a lot. He sighed with relief, and was disgusted to see that it caused a small, white, keyhole-shaped something to escape his mouth. He sweat-dropped again and went to check his equipment. His shortbow seemed unchanged, but his sword was now longer, and curved. So it – whatever caused the animé-fication of HQ – messed with his sword. He felt blood rising to his face – it was his sword, Eloh damn them!
Then he noticed that four veins positioned on his temples, were popping. With difficulty, he calmed himself, and went to wake his partner.
When he saw Des, he recoiled. The teenager was much more affected than him. First of all, now he was sleeping with his mouth open, and a small bubble was attached to his left nostril, inflating and deflating as he breathed.
“Wake up, Des, wake up,” said Anebrin. He shook the teenager. Des blinked.
“Tazovoti,” he muttered in his native Hebrew. He turned on his side, obviously wanting to continue sleeping. Anebrin shook him again. With a groan, Des sat in his bed. He blinked groggily.
“Hey, Anebrin,” he said, his voice muffled, “why are your ears so exaggerated?”
“Look at yourself,” the elf replied, pointing to the mirror. Des nodded sleepily. He took his glasses from the night-table, got up, and went to the mirror. He blinked. He could feel that his eyes' shape was abnormal. Worse, he saw that now, instead of being normal, he looked like an animé version of himself: his short beard was now drawn on his face, his eyes were, indeed, abnormally large, and his hair was longer. He had sidebangs – sidebangs! - too.
He moved a little to the side and began hitting his head on the wall. Anebrin pulled him away.
“Ow,” muttered Des. He cursed. It was a very foul curse; thankfully it was in Hebrew and thus, the only person around that understood it was him. Shaking his head, he went to the bathroom/shower to dress.
With a sigh, Anebrin returned to his chair, picking The Lord of the Rings up again.
After a while, the sound of the shower's closing door announced that Des finished putting his clothes on. Anebrin lifted his gaze from the book and sighed (visibly) again. Des's attire was changed, too: His brown longcoat became even longer, now reaching his shoes; his shirt and cargo pants looked like drawn version of those articles; instead of a single, normal belt he had too many, and their buckles looked like dragons; and he now wore black half-gloves.
“Now what do we do?” asked Des. “Nanoka.” he added, and immediately covered his mouth. Please, he thought, don't tell me that I've got a verbal tic now... nanoda!
Apparently, not even his thoughts were exempt. (Nanoda!)
“Have you any idea what was that addition?” asked Anebrin in reply.
“A verbal tic, curse it, nanoda,” answered Des. He went to his pack, only to discover that his greatsword – okay, great wooden sword – was transformed into a bokken. He looked at Anebrin.
“Did it also affect your weapons, nanoka?” he asked.
“My sword. Look,” said Anebrin and showed it. Sunlight (Des didn't know how sunlight got into HQ, but was too occupied with other matters to care) glinted off the long, curved blade.
“It's a katana, nanoda,” Des said. “Japanese hand-and-a-half sword, nanoda. Used to be the best in the world for two-hundred years, from circa fourteen hundred to circa sixteen hundred, nanoda.”
“I hope it won't stay that way,” said Anebrin. “We should probably go outside.”
“Okay, nanoda,” said Des, and the pair exited their RC.

Dr Kindheart (well, technically she was a nurse, but she DID have a doctorate in medicine from Equestria) was having a lovely dream. She sat at a banquet table, just filled with dishes made of dandelions, and daisy salads, and, oh, an arrangement of orchids off to the side; the sort of plant-based delicacies she’d missed since she’d come to the PPC. Even if your bosses were quite understanding of the fact that you were an herbivore, it still wouldn’t be good to rub it in their face. Kindheart licked her lips and reached for the sunflower soup, when suddenly all the lights flickered out. An annoying beep began to fill the banquet hall, and all the soups turned into stuffed turkeys, staring at her. She squeaked and backed up, scrabbling off the floor, when another, louder beep came in and broke through her peaceful sleep.

“I’m up, I’m up,” she grumbled, trying to reach out with her telekinesis to shut off the little console in the room she slept in when she wasn’t pulling shifts in Medical. Strange, something felt off about her mouth, and her hooves, and really everything...

She tumbled to the floor and shrieked when she saw her hooves. Or what USED to be her hooves. In their place, she had grown hands, hands of all things. She gritted her teeth (her teeth, why did she have four sharp teeth in her mouth?) and struggled to sit up. She bit back another yelp when she saw her body. Instead of a perfectly sensible quadrupedal pony body, she’d become a pale, human female. She tried to focus.

“Celestia, Luna, and Cadenza. What happened?” she ground out, struggling to put her back to the wall. She took in a deep breath and looked at herself. ‘OK, human body. Thank goodness I’m not naked,’ she thought, ‘though this pink thing isn’t much better. Looks like some anime’s idea of what medical personnel wear.’’ She looked around the room, noticing out of the corner of her eye that her dress had a patch shaped like her cutie mark on its shoulder. She was about to complete her scan of the room when she saw a small, pointy object just next to her bed. She crouched down, thanking the Alicorns that her dress wasn’t as hard to maneuver in as it might’ve been, and picked up--was this her horn?

Kindheart scrambled into a sitting position, checking her horn for cracks. She frowned, carefully running the pads of her fingers over it. It didn’t seem to be injured, luckily. Kindheart held her horn and tried an experimental bit of telekinesis--the horn glowed, carrying her first aid kit over. She picked it up, and sent a telekinetic push towards the buttons of the console. “Attention, all PPC Personnel...” She sighed as she tucked a few strands of hair underneath her pink cap. Well, this was going to be a long 24 hours...