Automaton Soul

The passive action of following Twilight left Sprocket's mind to wander. It had been difficult at first to perceive the current situation as reality. Being that she can't feel, which is a sign of dreaming. Yet, dreams, they tend to make little sense, or last only moments. The events so far, while nonsensical, have moved forward in a realistic fashion and covered a span of minutes.

Surely the afterlife wasn't this, the gods wouldn't turn her into an automaton, right? It wasn't likely at least... She expected to meet family, like her great grandparents that had passed a couple years back, possibly living up in the clouds.

Death had surely jabbed its gnarled finger into her soul and taken her...

She stops, the thought had been interrupted before, Twilight gave her no time to think. Shutting her down before, and asking things of her when she awoke, she hadn't the time. However, this is her current situation, an automaton created by Twilight Sparkle. Once human, now equine.

Her legs shake, home is gone, her body a new foreign form. She can't cry, she could barely walk, much less throw a fit.

*Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack*

Her eyes dart about, the colorful houses and ponies weren't comforting, they were alien. Said aliens gawking at her in amazement and Twilight trying to ask her questions the looks of amazement turn to concern. The racket of small pieces of her metal form shaking violently fills her mind... and then nothing.

~

"I thought you were ready, let's try another test run, can you open your eyes?" Twilight asks.

Sprocket complies, still with an unsettled mind, yet, there was no whining about it. The ability to whine in the way that she had known was unavailable to her. Back in the library two ponies stand in front of her Twilight and...

"Gosh, that thing really works, course I didn' doubt ya Twi, but it hadn't sounded real." Applejack adjusts her stetson and examines Sprocket, walking around her. "What all can it do?"

"She can do anything a pony can do... well, except speak." Twilight admits.

"Well, why not?"

"It's all really complicated, to say it simply, I couldn't find a way with my current resources."

"That's too bad, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to talk to."

"It would be interesting, to see how an artificial soul thinks." Twilight sighs, "But for now I have to find out what went wrong, It was likely she started processing too much information at once with all the new things I exposed her to, bringing her outside for the first time."

"Well good luck Twi. I gotta get back to the stand, Big Mac ain't one for drawin' in customers." Applejack takes her leave.

After Applejack departs, Twilight takes a seat in front of Sprocket. "I've got a great idea, I thought of how much it'd help me understand you if you could speak, but since I can't make that work, raise a hoof." Upon complying a quill levitates to her hoof and snaps to it, even after Twilight releases her magic. Then a scroll is held in the air in front of her in a faint aura of magic. "Oh, right, can you write?" Sprocket nods in response. "Oh good, If it's any help I'll wait to read it until you're done."

Maneuvering the quill wasn't too hard, but it still felt strange, thus Sprocket made use of only lines:

I AM ALIVE

Would that be enough to convey that she wasn't some simple automaton? She added more to be sure:

I AM REAL

The curve on the R had been a trial, and yet there was so much more to say, to ask, to grieve about. Everything she could write invaded her mind.

"Done?" Twilight asks, yet gives no response time as she pulls the scroll away to read. Six words that could be read in seconds, Twilight looked them over for nearly a minute. "This isn't good, you can't think like this." Twilight rubbed the side of her head with a hoof and groaned. "The spell I used takes so much work, and you seem willing to learn, I don't want to chance creating something out of control."

Twilight took her time to think of a solution, Sprocket didn't notice this over her own devastating failure. Twilight had no intention of believing her, and maybe if she had a voice she could explain, or just more time to write. Sprocket heads past Twilight and towards one of the blank scrolls on the table. Her quill strikes the scroll, and yet the scroll is ripped away.

"No, Sprocket, listen to me!" Twilight demands in anger, but calms herself with a long breath. "I know you think that you're a living creature, but I made you a bit too... perfect. I don't know how else to tell you, and for the first time I feel bad for doing such a good job... You're completely artificial, down to every thought you may be having, it's all something I created. I wanted you to have enough free will to solve any problem that might come your way while you're doing what I need of you. I didn't think I'd instill any emotions in you. I'm sorry, but if you don't stay in line with what I expect of you... I'll have to shut you down, for good."

Maybe to Twilight, who in her mind is speaking to a lifeless object, that sounded like a quite alright thing to say. To Sprocket however, it was a death threat, and coming from someone who saw no life in her in the first place, it was a real threat.

There was much to say, or write, but Twilight wouldn't see any of it for what it was. Sprocket needed to cry, to panic, to ask for help.

Yet, more than anything, Sprocket didn't want to die, again.