Sweetie Bot - A Heart's Warming Tale

Chapters

Chapter 2. Belle or Bot
Chapter 3. Revelations
Chapter 4. Emotional Overload
Chapter 5. Mental Meltdown
Chapter 6: The Drowning Doll
Chapter 7: Prelude to Madness
Chapter 8: Loose Screws
Chapter 9: Recoding
Chapter 11. Inferno
Chapter 12. Toy Soldier
Chapter 13. Ashes to Ashes
Chapter 14. Power Struggle
Chapter 15. Power struggle part 2
Chapter 16. Power Struggle part 3
Chapter 17. Ghost in the Shell
Chapter (ERROR - File not found)
Chapter 18. Scrapmetal
Chapter 19. Child of Cyber
Chapter 20. Crying without Tears
Chapter 21. Two days at Teddy's
Chapter 22. The Blood of a Pony
Chapter 23. Burning Bridges
Chapter 24. Hobo Bobo
Chapter 26. My little Sweetie
Chapter 27. Climax
Chapter 28. Deus ex Machina
Chapter 29. Metalmorphosis
Chapter 30. Mark of Life
Epilogue: My body - Myself - And my Cybernetic life.
Chapter 1. Mark of Errors
Chapter 10. Cooking up Trouble
Chapter 25. Glimmer of Life

Chapter 2. Belle or Bot

Sweetie was strapped to a cold metal table. The room around her was covered in silent shadows.

From the shadows emerged a featureless pony, so drenched in shadow that it might as well have been made out of pure darkness. She pleaded to it, cried to it and begged it to help her out of these restraints. But it remained silent as it slowly walked up to her, until it stood right beside the table, looking down on her. It towered above her like a giant. even this close she could not make out any features. It raised both front hooves and plunged them deep into her chest. Sweetie screamed, more from shock then from pain, for there was no pain. She could not feel the dark shadowy hooves moving around her insides. but she could see it all to well. It raised its hooves again and pulled out her heart.

But it was not a heart. It was a crude contraption of melted cogwheels and barb wire that had been made into the rude shape of a heart. The heart was held in front of her, dripping oil instead of blood. Sweetie had stopped screaming and just stared. Had that thing been inside her? Perhaps she should be grateful that the shadow pony had removed it from her body.

But then the shadow started to slowly lowered it back into her chest. Sweetie cried in protest. She begged the shadow to not put that thing back into her. But when she looked up she saw that the shadow had suddenly gained features. White fur, blue eyes, and a purple curly mane she knew all to well.

The pony standing over her was Rarity.

***

Sweetie awoke. Sweating, panting and shivering.

It took her a while to get her bearings from what she wrote of as a terrible nightmare.
She hoped that it along with all the events of the previous day had all been one big ling nightmare.

She looked down on her legs, finding she had slept with her socks on. Purple and Pink striped socks the same color as her scarf. The scarf she had destroyed when...
The thoughts from yesterday returned like an unwanted guest. That she was a robot in disguise.

Had Rarity really lied to her? Or did she simply not know?
She had not been able to find a single picture of them as fillies. Or that they had once been in mothers belly. Not herself. And not Rarity either.
In fact there wasn’t a single picture of her parents. Who does not have a single picture of their parents?

One who has no parents. An orphan. Like Scootaloo.

Could Rarity be an orphan? Had she built herself a family to stay of loneliness?
Sweetie shook her drowsy head. That thought was absurd. She had parents. she had a mom and dad. she had lived with them.

Was it perhaps her parents that had built her? They do say that mom and dad makes their children. But sweetie would never have thought it would be with nuts and bolts. If that was the case, then had they built Rarity to? Did Rarity also have mechanical parts in her body? Did mom and dad?

The thought was equally absurd.
But it was the only thought she hung onto.
For the alternative was far worse.

Drowsy she stepped out of bed. And made her way through the boutique with these unclear thoughts spinning in her mind.
She could not be alone. If she was a robot she could not be the only one. Did Rarity have mechanical parts as well? She had to find out.

She sneaked into Rarity's bedroom. The moon outside the window cast the room in silvergray shadows. Her older sister was fast asleep in her large canopy bed. A sleeping mask covered her eyes and she emitted tiny regular breaths without snore.

Despite having an entire boutique downstairs, Rarity had a sewing station in her bedroom. Filled with fabric, scissors and cushions of needles.

She pulled a needle out of the cushion and walked up to stand over her sleeping sister. Even while sleeping her sister had a certain grace to her. Sweetie wondered if she was as graceful underneath the skin.

She raised the needle.

Rarity. As if sensing there was somepony doing a slasher impersonation above her, twitched. Her head rolled over to face Sweetie, as if looking at her through the sleeping mask.

Sweetie became petrified. For several seconds she just starred. Rarity remained asleep. But Sweetie herself was now more awake then ever.

What was she doing?

Needle still in hoof. She carefully backed away, and left the bedroom.

***

Sweetie locked the bathroom door behind her. Then she pulled up a stool to the sink and climbed up so that she could look at herself in the wall-mirror.

Her body had been stabbed with wooden sticks the day before. It was still sore and carried many scrapes and bruises that where hidden underneath her white fur.

Hidden under her fur...

She removed her socks and the bandage and looked at her fetlock. The gears where still there. The mechanical fetlock was just as black ans sooty as it had been the day before.

Not knowing why she took out a small brush from the mirror shelf. (the type of brush rarity usually used for her eyelashes) and started to brush the soot of.

As she did she could not help but to give it a more careful look then she had the day before.

It had a certain sleekness to it. A fine tuned braiding of synthesized pistons and hydraulics where her muscles should be. And every cranny seemed to glow with an inner green light.

She took note of the net of thin wires that seemed to be woven into bottom layer of her skin.
She stretched and bent her foreleg. Watching the multi-layered hydraulics tensed and relaxed in perfect synchronization with the muscles under her skin.

Because there where muscles underneath the skin right? Or how far did the artificial parts go?

She put her hoof om the hydraulic muscle and traced it up over the edge of the broken skin. She traced up her arm. Over her shoulder, her neck, her rib cage. Her hoof stopped over her heart.

No, that could not be possible.

She moved down her leg again. This time following a different set of muscles. Taking note of every string and curve underneath her skin. Only to find that even this muscle ended in an artificial hydraulic.

Even the smallest muscles and veins she could find where complemented by cords and wires. At no point where she able to find any clear point where the gears ended and her real body began.

She touched round the cylinder in the fetlock. Then she looked over at her joint on the other leg.
She felt around the joint on her good leg. It felt almost identical. Almost. if not for the skin it would have been....

No, that couldn't be.

Just to be sure she had to try something.

She took the needle and placed it against her skin. If the metal did run under her skin that must mean that if she she poked deep enough. Would she not come down to the inner gears?

She started pressing. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper the needle sank. She grimaced against the pain and bit her lip so hard that it started bleeding. Finally she had to stop, else she would begin to scream. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked down on her self inflicted wound. It felt like she would wave poked straight through her leg. But it was just a little scratch in the skin that had barely started bleeding.

She looked at the blood. The blood of a living breathing pony. How could she be made of metal if she was bleeding?
Then she thought. If there where metal under her skin. Where there blood underneath the metal?

She took the needle and started poking at the exposed gears. She felt nothing. She scraped harder and harder looking for a response. All she ended up doing was making scratches in the metal surface. Finally the needle dented.

She flushed the needle down the toilet. Rarity would not miss it. She had hundreds of them after all.
She then flushed down the old bandage to. There was more to be found in the locker behind the bathroom mirror.

When she steeped up to the mirror again she noticed the faint blue light from yesterday embedding the scratch-work. Like the metal itself was glowing whit some inner light. The marks started to thin out, and within a minute there was not a trace left of her self abuse.

She pulled out one of Rarity’s long hairpins from the mirror shelf and started poking at the edge of her burnt skin. She let out a yelp as the needle touched the sore red edge of the skin.
Then she poked again at the gears. Feeling nothing.

Pain – No pain. It was like day and night.

Step by step she moved up the leg. Poking like she was trying to give herself acupuncture. Every time she could feel the sing of the needle. Every time stung just as bad as the last.

She moved over to her other leg and started poking herself there as well.
It hurt just as bad there as anywhere else. She poked herself all over the body just to be sure.

She even went back to poking at the edge of her skin above the exposed fetlock. Trying to push the skin up to see in there where any muscles close to her mechanical hoof. but she had to bite her lip again. It hurt far to much to even consider. All she ended up doing was opening a new wound in the already weak skin. A small line of blood ran down her mechanical fetlock.

Blood. No blood. Feeling. No feelings.

She wondered. Had she ever bled from the right foreleg before? She did not know for sure. Despite all her crusading activities she had sustained surprisingly little injury.

No, she told herself. She had never bled from her foreleg.
She could bleed all over, but not from the leg. That must mean that it it was a prosthetic.

But why did she need a replacement leg? What had happened to her real leg? Had it blown of? Was that what had happened yesterday? She got her own leg blown of and they had to rush her to infirmary for surgery and leg-transplant and then put her back where she was in hope she wouldn't notice?

No. That couldn't have happened. Why would there then be a giant wooden stick in the leg. Why would it not be completely covered with fur and skin? And why would Scootalloo and Applebloom have acted so surprised?

The thought of Scootaloo tackling her go the ground returned to her. The looks in their eyes. That sudden hostility. How angry she was over the thought that she was a robot.

She looked into her own eyes. Really deep. They looked the way they always had.
Rarity had once told her that the eyes where the mirror of the soul. How could she not have a soul with such eyes?

She shook her head.

“Stupid Discord!” she cursed.

She washed of the bloodied hairpin in the sink. Then she washed her socks, who where starting to smell from her own sweat. (Sweat. That was another proof she was not a robot.)

Actually it was not just the socks that smelled. Her entire body smelled of sweat. Rarity would no doubt sense it and insist on a bath. And she did not what to run the risk of her suggesting she bathe her. Or worse, that they bathe together.

She filed up the bathtub and poured some soap into the water until It started to foam.

She hesitated putting her right mechanical hoof in the water. What if it got a short circuit?

Carefully she put her other three legs into the bath. Making sure to hold her mechanical one above the water. Carefully she drenched herself in foamy water. Rubbing it into her hair and scrubbing herself with a brush.

When she was done she sat down. She rested her right leg over the edge of the tub, only now noticing how tired she really was. It was the middle of the night after all. The water was warm and comfortable and she soon drifted of to sleep on a cloud of foam.

***

She awoke to a knock on the bathroom door.

“Sweetie? Are you in there?” Rarity voice called out.

Sweetie momentarily panicked. Thankful that she had looked the door.

With a shock she realized that her right hoof was under water. Sometime during her sleep her hoof must had slipped from the bathtub edge and down into the water. But there was no twitching, no sparks, no short circuit and no malfunction. The hoof moved just fine despite being drenched.

Rarity called out again. “Sweetie What are you doing. Are you taking a bath at this hour?”

“Um... Yes!” She answered and quickly got out of the tub. “Just give me a moment to dry myself up!”

She pulled down one of Rarity's full body towel suits and scrubbed herself dry in it. She quickly pulled some new bandages from the bathroom locker and wrapped it around her fetlock. then she pulled on her socks, which had been left to dry on the floor.

Rarity's towel suit was much to big for her. And it covered pretty much everything bur her face. She made her way out into the corridor making careful steps to not fall over in the big rug.

Rarity gave her a surprised look as she opened the door.

“Sweetie, are you okay?”

“Yes!" she said happily "The water did not make me feel funny.”

Rarity got a quizzing look but did not press the issue of why the water would make you feel funny.

Sweetie did not even notice she had almost slipped her tongue. She smiled like she had not done since yesterday.
Because if the water didn't make her feel funny she was not a robot. It was probably not even a prosthesis. Just some joke pulled by Discord.

As Rarity took her own morning bath Sweetie hurried down to the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast.
While eating she pondered over how she could possibly be a robot when she enjoyed these tastes so much.

As she heard Rarity coming down the stairs she shouted that she was going out to see her friends.

It was not a complete lie. She was going to see a friend.

She needed to get help with this. But she did not dare go to the hospital or to Twilight. They would ask questions and no doubt speak to Rarity at some point.

She needed somepony who was familiar with cure tonics and was far enough away that she would not draw attention to herself. More specificity she needed some-zebra.

Zecora. The zebra alchemist who lived deep inside Everfree forest.

Sweetie was not to found of the idea of going to Zecora. Truth was that Zecora scared her. Anyone who was crazy enough to willingly live alone in that dangerous place had to be just as wild as any creature in there.

Rumors said she summoned the spirits and hunted timber-wolves whenever she was lonely.

Before darting out the door she had enough sense to put on a coat and a set of shoes (as to not ruin her new socks).

The climate outside seemed to have gotten colder sine yesterday. And a chilling breeze had started to blow. She pulled her little pink coat tighter and She set a course for Everfree forest. (Thankful that they made clothes that covered both front and rear of the body. otherwise she would be freezing her blank flank off.)

***

Despite the late season, Everfree stood as green an lush as ever. Defying the seasons that changed around it.

Where every other tree had lost its leafs during the annual running of the leaves, Everfree continued to flourish. Its leaves never fading to orange and red. Sweetie thought that Perhaps it was because no pony dared to run into the forest shat its leaves never fell? Though nopony would be crazy enough to try. It was said that there where trees with leaves as big as blankets in there. Leaves with teeth that ate ponies.

It was a forest truly free of pony control. Just like discord. Perhaps he had once created this forest. Or perhaps he once came from inside this wiled untamed place? Spawned like an insect from some unholy cocoon on something, Sweetie thought. that would be fitting. for him to begin his life as an insect.

She cursed his name once again as she stood at the entrance to the forest. Its tall trees cast a shadow over the narrow path that led to Zecora's hut. She did not know what scared her the most. Everfree itself. Zecora. Or the fact that she was going to have to reveal her secret.

Applebloom had told them the path to Zecoras hut several times. It was only a matter of following the path and it would take you straight to her hut. Straight of course meaning along a path that wriggled more then a snakes nest. I fact the part might move just like a snake for all that she knew. Even the paths in Everfree could be seeking to lure weary travelers to their doom among haunting shadows of overgrown trees that blocked all view of sun and moon.

There where many stories of ponies going into that forest and never coming out.

Don't think about that now. She told herself. Just follow the path and everything will be fine. The part was safe. As safe as a rope over a pool full of angry sharks.

Even the climate inside Everfree defied the seasons. The forest housed a moist, warm air that would better belong in tropical regions then in a winter seasoned Equestria. Sweetie buttoned up her coat and let it hang open at her sides. If Zecora came from a warmer continent then Sweetie could see why she liked it here. More ponies would probably take resistance from the winter inside the forest – if not for the lurking danger.

She walked slowly. Crouched and weary of every shadow.

She was so worried of what might linger of the side of the road, just out of sight, that she almost missed what was right in the middle of it. A small bundle of blue flowers that had grown up in the middle of path. It was only when she felt something stoke against her belly that she looked down to see that she was standing in the middle of a bundle of blue flowers.

Poison Joke.

With a yelp she jumped out of the bundle. Applebloom had told her well enough about the magical plant and the cruel effect its poison could have on ponies. Frantic she began cheeking herself over. Just waiting for her body to suddenly change. But nothing happened. Her color did not change. No mane grew down over her eyes. No extra horns grown from her forehead. And her tail did not turned into a snake.

Why didn't it mutate her?

She looked down on her right foreleg.
Because she was already mutated. Silly.

Some said that poison joke was the creation of Discord. This had to mean that she had been touched by chaotic magic.
With this new found conformation of her condition she almost bolted the rest of the way through the forest

***

Finally she reached the hut of the hermit. The scary, angry looking wooden masks that hung like decapitated faces did not pose a welcoming sight. Applebloom had once said that Zecora put them there to fend of evil. Well they where certainly threatening to fend of Sweetie right now, with their evil stares and hungry mouths. No wonder Zecora never got attacked in her own hut when she had such scary sentry’s. No creature would ever dare go near anything so vicious looking.

She knocked on the door. Which gave way and swung open into the alchemists hut. Those masks must work even at night if she could sleep undisturbed with no lock on her door.

She remained standing on the threshold, looking into the hut.
Zecora's home consisted of a single room. More scary masks hung from the ceiling, alongside herbs that where drying. The walls where filled with shelves housing bottles of all kinds. A small bed made out of bamboo and some sort of palm leaves stood empty in the back. And in the middle a small cauldron boiled over a fire. But the alchemist herself was nowhere to be seen.

She called out for Zecora. Maybe she was out hunting timber-wolves again? She could not have gone to to far though, since she had left a fire sparkling underneath a big stewing pot. Sweetie wondered if the stew would be today's catch.

“Well what are you doing out here?...”

The voice appeared behind Sweetie so suddenly that it startled her enough to jump halfway into the hut and skittle in under the bed.

“...Beside hiding under my bed in fear.” Finished Zecora.

Sweetie poked her head out from under the palm leaves.

“Sorry. But you scared me You should not sneak up on people like that.”

“Little foal I did not sneak up on you. I simply asked a question, and you flew.”

“I sorry.” She said as she climbed out from under the bed.

“Do not fret my Sweetie dear. Now what burden do you bear.”

“Well I... wait. You know me?” Sweetie said. Surprised that the Zebra knew her name since she had never before come out here to see the alchemist before.

Zecora chuckled.

“Little one I thought you knew. The friends I see out here are few. But your friend Applebloom is regular due. And she very speaks high of you.“

She steeped closer.

“Now I do not think you came for my morning stew. So tell me what in your head brew.”

Sweetie chewed on her lower lip. But she had come to far to back away now. This was her one chance to rid herself of this problem.

She explained how she had gotten a bad taste of Discord and Poison joke. This was however not enough to convince the herbalist to simply give her a cure. The only thing she got from Zecora was the skeptical rise of an eyebrow. She did after all not look mutated. Unless covering up a mutation was the reason for the coat and hoofwear, as she pointed out in her typical rhyming fashion.

Whit great shame Sweetie removed the shoe and sock on her right foreleg, and slowly undid the bandage.

Zecora's eyes went wide. Sweetie backed away but the zebra grabbed her hoof and pulled her in for a close examination.

“Worse wounds I do have seen. But you seem to be part machine?”

“Yes. But its not a real machine...”

Sweetie further explained how it had not been affected by water like so many electrical devises normally would. Therefore it had to be flesh in disguise, she reasoned.

Zecora then asked about the wounded flesh in her typical rhyming fashion. Taking note that it was not magically mutated but genuinely burned of.

Sweetie silently cursed herself for not thinking this far ahead Of course she was gonna ask about the wound.

She briefly said there had been a firecracker accident. She lied about where they had gotten the firecrackers. Not wanting to ruin the relationship between the alchemist and Applebloom she said it was some early sample sales from the upcoming big firework show on new years eve.

Zecora was intrigued. She had never heard about a Poison joke victim that only gets altered on the inside.
But. If this was Poison joke she had just the way to treat it.

She pulled the stewing pot of the fire and replaced it with a much bigger cauldron. One big enough to cook a foal in. She offered Sweetie her soup while she filled it with water and mixed in some herbs.

Sweetie almost declined. But After the quick, meager breakfast she had eaten at home, and the long walk here, She was still kind of hungry. Besides, the soup both smelled and tasted good.

When she had finished her second breakfast Zecora told her it was time for a bath.

Sweetie had already had a bath this morning. There was no harm in another.

She removed the rest of her clothes and was about to jump in when Zecora said:

“It appears that your fetlock is not the only thing that has gotten a taste of the poisons evil sting.”

She pointed at Sweeties rear.

Sweetie looked back, and her eyes widened. On her flanks, right where her mark should have been the skin had started to preen away and roll up like the edges of dried parchment paper. Even worse was that underneath was nothing but a solid piece of blank metal.

The sight of it caused Sweetie to start hyperventilate. Her knees gave out and she fell down on her behind. She could almost her a metallic clang as it made contact with the hard dirt floor.

Far away she could hear the sound of ice cracking. And the sound of drums being played with ferocity.

No. it was not forest drums. It was her heart.

She put a hoof on her chest, feeling it trying to drum its way out of her. She smiled. She still had a heart that pumped blood through her veins. She was still a pony.

Her hyperventilation turned into laughter the cruel joke For that was all it was. A joke. Poison joke.

“It got worse.” she laughed “I walked through poison joke twice and it got worse!”

She had never heard of poison joke effects worsening when you dubbed the dose. But that had to be the explanation.
Even Zecora agreed that it had to be poison joke.

But before Sweetie got to jump into the cauldron they decided they had do do something about the wound. Sweetie could feel no pain now. But what would happen then the curse lifted? Much to her relief Zecora agreed to dress up the fetlock in a moist bandage maid of leaves and told her to drink the bitter contents of a red bottle. Sweetie downed the healing potion and then sank down into the cauldron. Trying her best to not think about being boiled up for Zecoras next meal.

She knew Zecora would not do that. But the situation called for such fantasies. Besides, she humored herself, if she even had been made of metal then Zecora would not be able to eat her anyway.

The water was warm and cozy. Cozier then the bathtub back home. Perhaps because she had just not attempted self mutilation. That, along with the soup and potion, made her drift of to sleep.

When she woke up she had the most satisfying feeling of rejuvenation.

She looked down on her leg to find it good as new. The wound had knitted itself back together and there was not a trace of any metallic parts. She hugged her hoof close, finding it just as soft as the rest of her body.
She looked over her flanks. Finding them just a blank as ever, but at least not metallic.

She thanked Zecora and headed back home. The socks she stuffed in her coat-pockets. She was gonna have to apologize to Rarity for destroying her scarf. But right now that felt like a trivial matter. She was just so glad to finally be able to put this nightmare behind her that the idea of facing her sisters fury didn't seem so bad. Everfree forest itself didn't even seem so scary anymore.

She started singing as she walked. This time more aware of the leaves in the trees then the shadows around her. Leaves forever green and flourishing regardless of the turning of seasons. Sometimes she wondered why they did not just call the forest “Evergreen”.

Anyway she felt great. She had taken two baths and eaten two breakfasts this morning. And she was finally gonna be able to put this nightmare behind her and never speak of it again. Like it never happened. And for that she was so very happy. So very glad.

***

She was so very lost.

In her sing song way through the forest she lost track of the path. How a path could disappear was beyond her. Maybe they really did move like snakes?

She continued heading in the general direction she thought Ponyville was in.

A branch snapped.

Sweetie froze in place. Wistfully she looked down on the ground under her. But there was no stick underneath her hoof.
Slowly she turned her head. And felt her heart stop.

Behind her was a wolf. A big gray wolf, easily twice as big as her, had appeared out of the bushes not five meters away, ready to pounce her. If not for the branch it would have been able to.

But the sudden eye contact with its victim made the wolf stop and hesitate for a second.
Then it started to growl and showed all its long row of teeth. Saliva prided down its maw as it no doubt imagined pony flesh for dinner. It gave up a roar and made the jump.

Sweetie answered with a terrified scream and bolted out of the way just as the wolf came down.

She ran through the forest screaming at the top of her lungs. Screaming for help. Somepony had to hear her. Somepony must have heard the roar and her screams. She tried running back to Zecora's hut. The masks would no doubt scare the wolf of. But she had lost the hut and she had lost the path.

Did this all happen because she lost the path?

She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. The wolf was tight behind her and closing in with every step. She could feel it breathing down her tail.

The wolf was tireless in its chase. Sweetie had run out of breath to scream. She was panting and her legs where tiring. Where was the path? Where was the hut? Where was anypony?

It felt like she was running in circles. Like the forest had trapped her in an endless maze with this hungry wolf. Why did this have to happen?! Why this day have to become a nightmare again?

Somepony help had to her. Somepony was gonna show up and stop the wolf any minute. Fluttershy was gonna give it a good scolding. Applejack was gonna come and buck it in the face. Rainbow would sweep down from the skies and...

She tripped.

A tiny root sticking out of the ground threw her of her hooves she made a somersault and ended up on her back. The wolf was over her a second later. Its pawns pinned her down and its mouth came down on her right leg. Its fangs pierced deep into her and there was a horrifying ripping sound of flesh being torn.

Suddenly there was a big clang. The wolf reared back and roared in pain. In its big open maw sweetie could see that all its fangs where broken. She wolf ran away whimpering into the woods.

Sweetie sat up. Shocked from the experience and feeling more rugged than the day before. She waited for her heart to stop racing and her breath to cool down. Though she was sure the wolf had chewed on her she could feel no pain.
She looked down on her leg. And confirmed her worst fears.

The gears where still there. Surrounded by the faint blue glow that made the scratch marks of the wolfs fangs fade away. Not even the beast sharp teeth had manage to dent her metal core.

She should be happy to still be alive. Had she not had metal under her skin the wolf would have taken her leg clean of. But in a way it felt like it had.

Worse was that it was not just her fetlock that was exposed. This time it was half her leg. The wolf had torn of a big chunk of skin and opened a hole in her leg from her fetlock all the way all up to the elbow. Where another mechanical joint now could be seen.

The synthetic muscles really did run all the way up the lower leg and continued past the joint upwards to her shoulder.

Blood had poured from her torn open skin. drenching the machinery in its red color. But she didn't feel any pain at all. It had already stopped bleeding. Like some internal switch had turned the floodgates of to prevent her from bleeding out.

Sweetie did neither scream nor cry.
For a long while sweetie just sat there, staring at her mechanical leg. Until finally the realization dawned on her.

Zecora's cure had not helped.

***

Exiting Everfree forest, Sweetie initially thought about heading directly home overt the hills. But her initial shock and depression had had given way to anger. And with anger came determination.

With a frown on her face she marched (as determined as a little filly can be) towards Fluttershy's cottage. Determined to face the one thing worse then poison joke.

Discord.

It was time to put this stupid joke to end once and for all.

On her way there however, she ran into two of the last fillies she wanted to see.

Applebloom and Scootaloo.

Like her. The two of them had dressed up against the chilling weather.

Also like her... they did not seem to happy to see her.

None called out for the other. Scootaloo was walking with her head hanging low, her eyes only on the ground in front of her. Appleblooms eyes held the strangest look. Like she was looking at a stranger.

No doubt they where still spooked from yesterday. Sweetie didn’t want to talk to or deal with them now. Once she had gotten Discord to straighten things out they would all be able to laugh at this. But still... it did not feel natural giving each other a cold shoulder like this. As the tree passed by each other Sweetie could not take the silence anymore.

“Hi” She said.

“Um... hi” Said Applebloom.

“Yea hi.” Said Scootaloo. Very distant in her tone.

The three had almost passed each other by when Applebloom called out.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to see Fluttershy” she answered.

“Don't bother. She is not home. And neither is Discord!”

“WHAT!?”

Her little outburst came out louder then intended. It scared both her and her friends into jumping away from each other.

“What do you mean not home? How do you know that?”

“Because we went to check ourselves. After your ran away yesterday we went directly to Fluttershy's cottage to see if we could get Discord straightened out. But she wasn't home! And Discord was nowhere to be found. Believe me, we looked all around town. We asked everypony if they had seen or heard any sigh of him! And you know what. Rumors say he and Fluttershy left for Canterlot weeks ago. For him to answer to Celestia for some mischief he caused out west or whatever.”

Sweetie could not believe what she was hearing.

“Well maybe he came back. He is a spirit of chaos! He could be anywhere he wanted to be.” She reasoned. “He could have done this anytime!”

“Why...?” Scootaloo mumbled.

Sweetie was about to roll over in hysterical laughter. Why? With discord it wasn't about why. It was about why not.

“Why would he ever do anything that made scene?" she laughed "Maybe he set of the explosion yesterday and turned my leg to metal just to screw with our heads right after that scary movie. He was probably having a good laugh at all of us last day.”

Scootaloo cut her of with a cold glare.

“Then why did I not hear any laughter?”

Sweetie's laughter got stuck in her throat.

"why... What do you mean?"

Applebloom elaborated, whit a lot of concern in her voice.

“If you know Discord you know he likes to take responsibility for his work. He likes to do big and obvious things and laugh in your face about it. This does not seem like something he would do.”

“What are you saying!?”

“That if if was not discord, then...”

“DON'T SAY IT! Its not true. I'm not a robot!”

“Then why are you wearing that?”

Scootaloo pointed accusingly at the socks she was wearing over her legs. The first thing she had done coming out of her shock was to strap the socks back on.

Sweeties yaw was left hanging open as she stammered for an answer. But not a single whole word left her mouth.

“Take it off.” Said Scootaloo in the coldest tone Sweetie had ever heard.

“No.”

“Take. It. Off!”

“NO!”

Scootaloo threw herself over Sweetie. They tumbled around on the ground as Scootaloo tried to pull the shoes and socks of her.
All the while she was screaming.

“Remove it. Take it off! TAKE IT OFF!” TAKE! IT! OFF!

Sweetie resisted. But Scootaloo overpowered her. Pinning her on her back with both hooves on her shoulders as she used her teeth to pull the shoe of her fight hoof. Then she bit down on the sock. Sweetie in turn bit down on the other end of the sock and they both pulled with all their might The poor sock stretched and stretched until the stitches tore up and revealed her broken leg.

Scootaloos expression instantly changed from anger to shock. All three girls just stared at sweeties exposed mechanical lower leg.

Finally Applebloom spoke up

“Are you even more robot now then you where yesterday?”

“No.” She said meekly. “No I am not.”

She could feel tears forming in her eyes.

“I can't be. It must be a prosthetic. That's all it is!”

“Prove it.”

It took a while for Sweetie to realize that scoot had just asked her to remove her own leg. But when the question sank in, she tried. She pulled all over. Looking for some way to remove the artificial limb. But her own fur covered her whole leg. She had no idea where any detachment points might be.

She pulled and punched her shoulder. Tried to stretch her leg in ways it was not meant to be stretched. But all she ended up doing was hurting herself.

Scootaloo was gritting her teeth. But sweetie saw something else. A tear forming in the corner of her eye.

Why was Scoot crying? Was she that sad for her sake? Did her having a synthetic leg upset her that much? Before she could ask, Scootaloo snorted and walked away.

Sweetie reached out for her friend. But Applebloom put a hoof on her shoulder and shook her head.

“Please. Don't talk to Scoot. She is going through a lot right now.”

“Like what?” Sweetie was beyond confused. Why could they not just tell her?

“It ... Has to do with you. About what happened yesterday”

“I'm not a robot.” Sweetie pleaded. “You must believe me.”

Applebloom walked up and hugged her.

“I want to Sweetie. Please understand that Scoot and i spent all day yesterday looking because we want to believe you.”

Now it was Applebloom that had tears in her eyes.

“Just please promise that you do not talk to Scoot.”

Sweetie could not understand why they did not want to tell her what. But Applebloom's pleading look told her enough.

“Ok... Just please promise back that you wont tell anypony. Not anyone!” She begged.

Applebloom nodded and trotted away to catch up to Scootaloo.

Sweetie picked her ruined sock. Its torn stitches seemed to bear an resemblance to the bond between her and her friends.

“I will prove that its a prosthetic!” She shouted after them “I will prove it to you tomorrow!”

But how?

***

She went to Fluttershy's cottage just to see for herself that there was nopony home.

There was indeed a note on the door saying that Fluttershy was of on some business in Canterlot.

With a knot as heavy as stone Sweetie turned and walked away. But she stopped not to far away from the cottage. her eyes drawn to another structure at the edge of Everfree forest.

A little bit away from the cottage there was an old shed that lumber-ponies had once used while cutting trees on the edge of Everfree. Trees used to build new houses during Ponyvilles early days. Though it saw much less use now days it was still maintained since the forest itself needed to be kept in check every now and then.

Fluttershy had put a big sign on it telling ponies and creatures alike to stay out of that shed.

No pony would look for her there.

Sweetie looked herself in the shed. She had to find a way to remove her fake leg. Bur how?

She pressed and pulled her shoulder any way she could think of. But she could not find any button that detached the prosthetic.
The skin had been stretched over it. Maybe it was not meant to come of? Maybe it was permanently stitched to her body? The fact that the skin had been grown over the prosthetic did speak against its removability.

But she had to make it come of! She had to get ride of this thing that was upsetting Scootaloo so much.

But how?

One look around the shed revealed a whole bounce of options that were equally terrifying.

The inside of hut was full of tree cutting materials of all shapes and sizes. From axes to band saws.

She grabbed one of the axes and placed her hoof on the table.

She looked down on her prosthesis. For that was what it was. An artificial limb. A glorified wooden leg.

A wooden leg with her own flesh stretched over it.

Why? Why hide it? So that people shouldn’t see her walking around with a wooden foreleg?

On one end she could appreciate not giving the school bullies Diamond and Silver any more reasons to pick on her. But right now she would rather be bullied for a fake leg than see Scootaloo cry.

She brought the ax down hard on her leg. The table shook and her shoulder screamed in protest.

The faint blue light appeared. Not this time!

She struck with the ax again. Harder this time. She lost her balance as her entire body shook.

If she had just had magic then this would have been easy.

Magic. Was this why she could not use magic? Could robots use magic at all?

No. She Was not a robot!

She struck the ax again. Her shoulder felt like it was gonna pop out of its socket. But the metal barely dented.

She struck again. If she cut her synthetic leg of then flesh and blood would be able to grow back in its place.

She Struck again. Faster. Harder. Hoping to dig out some blood hiding underneath the iron shell. She felt her pulse beating in her eardrums. She thought about how felt blood vessels felt like pulsating strings under the skin. Those same strings that ended up in wires. Those wires had to be full of blood. The synthetic had to run on blood. Blood from her own heart!

She brought the ax down a final time. And managed to hit one of the wires. Her faces was splashed. Not with blood. But with a brownish greasing fluid. The wire had been a tube so tiny it looked no thicker then an vein.
And now she was leaking. Oil instead of blood.

She collapsed. Crying. Her muscles had ceased up in cramp and her body was screaming no more!

The ax fell out of her hoof. She could not bring herself to raise it again.

She laid on the shed floor until the cramp ceased and she was able to move her leg again. Though her shoulder was still sour.
She found a first aid kit on the wall and used some of the band-aid to wrap her leg up and stop the leaking. Then she pulled one sock of her back leg and put it over the bandage.

The air outside seemed to have gotten even colder as she left the shed.

She dreaded that it would be school day tomorrow.

***

Rarity was hard at work.

It seemed like she always had more work to do in time for the weekends then for regular days. And especially for the holly-days.

The time up to Heart Warming Eve was a lucrative but stressful time for any business. And Rarity's boutique was no exception. Clients both big and small had left her with a tall stack of orders. Everypony wanted something for hearts warming eve.

Some wanted to give a nice dress as a gift to their special someponies. Some wanted to dress their best on Hearts warming eve itself. And some just wanted something warm to wear for the cold season. And then there was the costumes for this years hearts warming pageant that would again be played out by Rarity and her closest five friends. Said friends had suggested that they just use the costumes from last year, bur Rarity would not hear of it. This years play was gonna be bigger and better and they needed newer and better costumes.

All in all it was a tight schedule to keep. But Like the fashioner she was she had managed to sew it all together (pun intended).
Besides, working and sewing always took her mind of more distressful things.

Like Sweetie Belles questions from yesterday.

She did not know why. But for some reason. Sweeties question had made her sweat.

Was it because sweetie was to young to think about such things? Or was it because...

Rarity shook her head. The dress in front of her needed to be finished and she did not have time with her sisters problems. She needed more needles to attach the stencils. She cursed that one of her carefully sorted needles had gone missing from its stack. She wondered where it had gone.

As she went through the drawers for more needles the thoughts of Sweetie Belle kept sneaking back into her mind. She had seemed more on edge then usual. Why suddenly dig for old photos? Maybe they had some kind of “bring-a-photo-of-yourself-as-a-foal-to-class” kind of assignment? To bad mom and dad had all the photos. Of them as foals...

An uncomfortable feeling started creeping back into her mind but she shook it away. More pins. More stencils!

Where does little foals come from?

She did not know what could have brought on such thoughts in her sisters young mind. Whether Cheerilee had started such educations or some colts had said something.

Colts...

Sweetie had seemed nervous about her appearance lately. First she had made those socks. And then there was the unusually long bath she took so unusually early this morning. She had been glad that the water did not make her feel funny. Rarity had been worried she had swallowed to much soap or tried to drink her perfume.

But while she had used a lot of soap she had at least not touched her makeup or used any of her expensive conditioner. That always tended to end in disaster.

Perhaps she wanted to look her best for some special little somepony she was meeting with today. She said that she was meeting her friends. But maybe it was a little handsome instead?

He better be nice. Because if he tried to do something to her little sister, then she was gonna string him up by his own tail.

She was woken from her thoughts by the sound of the doorbell.

“Sis?” Came Sweeties meek voice.

“Yes. Sweetie. What is it?”

Rarity turned away from her work to look at her sister. An awkward second passed when they just stared at each other. Sweeties eyes red-trimmed, she had obviously been crying.

“Nothing.”

Sweetie turned to the kitchen. She tried to look normal but Rarity could tell she was hiding a lot of sadness. It made her heart bleed. What in the world could have made her sister so sad? Had the new coltfriend turned her down. Or had he...

“Did he try anything!?” She shouted.

Sweetie looked at her bigger sister like she was insane.

“No. He did not try anything.”

Then she bolted up the stairs.

Rarity released a breath she did not realize she was holding. She went back to her dress that was by now looking like a hedgehog had rolled in a pile of leaves with all the needles and stencils sticking out of it.

She carefully removed all the needles as she toyed with the thought of how much pain they could cause if they where to be stuck in under the hoof.

***

As Sweetie laid in bed she could not help but curse herself.

Why had she not been able to ask Rarity? The question was at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. And for every passing second the question only fell deeper into her throat.

Sweetie began trashing around in the bed. Angry at herself. And even angrier at Rarity and her stupid question. Of course he had not tried anything. Discord that was. He had not tried anything. And that was the problem. And if he had not done it. Then...

Sweetie didn't dare finish the thought.

She could not be a robot, she told herself. She bleed. She cried. She got tired. She got hungry. And she felt. Robots could not feel emotions. Therefore she was not a robot.

That was what her heart was telling her. But her brain was telling her something different.

That the alternatives that pointed away from her being a robot was quickly diminishing.

She looked down on her leg. She had decided to sleep with her socks on in case Rarity snuck into her bedroom tonight.

Her thoughts went back to her vocal inability.
Why could she not just ask Rarity to remove the prosthetic? Perhaps she did not want to shock her? Perhaps she really did not know? But she was older than her. How could she not have known if Sweetie was in some sort of an accident? Maybe she had been born with only tree legs and they had gotten her a magic prosthetic that grew with her?

That brought her back to the lack of photos she had found yesterday. the lack of proof that she had grown up at all.

But she remembered growing up. She remembered the birthdays and holidays. She remembered The day Rarity moved out of home, and the day she moved in with her here in Ponyville. She remembered them playing together before Rarity moved out.

What was her earliest memory? She knew she had a perfect memory of the last couple of years. She could mentally catalog everything the Cmc did after all. She just needed to go further back. Work her memory to the bone to really find memories of her earliest days.

Sweetie closed her eyes and tried to go back as far as she could. She counted the birthdays backwards.
As she strained her memory she was able to count all the way back to birthday one. A vague image of a single light in a cake danced before her inner vision. A celebration that according to tradition was held one year after her birth.

But after that she was drawing a blank.

She tried to go further back. She knew there had to be something. But every time she tried to remember something before her first birthday something stopped her. It was like running headfirst into an invisible wall.

An invisible wall that was cold as ice.

It was cracked. But it held steady.

She felt a strange familiarity to this. Like she had been here before.

Somewhere down there, behind that wall, was the answer. She just knew it. She was drawn to it. And she was already working on it. She could feel herself becoming one with the wall. Slowly sipping into it. Through it.

It was scary, but interesting at the same time.

As she descended deeper into her mind she realized she must have fallen asleep. She then realized she had the whole night to work at that wall.

Slowly the ice cracked.

Author's Note

In the beginning, I really did thought that Everfree forest was called "Evergreen".

Chapter 3. Revelations

Sweetie was in an ice-cave. A long narrow passage she had been digging with her own hoof. Again and again she hit her front right hoof into the solid ice in front of her. Step by step she advanced a little further. Smoke rose from her mouth with every breath, yet sweetie felt no cold, no exhaustion, nor the frozen shards that cut into her hoof with every blow. All her mind was on breaking through the ice.
She did not know how far she had left, or how long she had been here. Behind her stretched the cave she had dug, so far she could not see where she had begun. The air itself was dry and silent. in fact the only sound was her own breath and her constant, rhythmic hoofwork.

Suddenly the tunnel gave up an ominous rumble and the air electrified. Waves of sparkling blue energy shot through the ice as Sweetie became aware of something in front of her. A dark shadow has appeared on the wall in front of her. Like a spot of ink in the otherwise so crystal clear ice.
Something was buried in front of her. With renewed interest she continued forward. striking the frozen wall again and again. and after a few more blows the tunnel was filled with a loud clang as she hit something metal.

She scraped away the ice to revealed a leg made of steel.
A right front leg to be precise.

She looked down on her own leg. The one she had been using to dig through the ice. It was mangled and broken. The hoof was cracked to the core, the joints dislocated, and bone fragments where sticking out of puncturing wounds.
It was useless.

Indifferently she removed the leg from her body and attached the metal leg instead. She stretched and twisted her new limb a few times. From the shoulder to the hoof the leg moved smoothly, like it had always been a part of her.
Looking back up at the hole where the mechanical leg had been she saw that the ice behind in had started cracking on its own. She smiled as this would ease her burden. But before she could get back to work she felt a basking heat on her back. Behind her a blinding light was coming through the tunnel. A light so bright that it engulfed everything around it.

In a flash it was over her and she felt herself being pulled away out of the tunnel ...

***

Sweetie Belle awoke in her bed. Light of the morning sun shone through the window into her eyes.
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and tried to grasp what the dream had been about. But it eluded her, like all dreams do. Something about Ice and a leg...

At one she was clear awake!

She looked under her blanket. The bed was dry. At least she had not been leaking oil tonight.
She removed the sock. The mechanical limb was still there. And the bandage did not appear any more sullied by brown oil then it had yesterday. Curiously she opened up the wrapping just a little bit to survey the damage. But found none. The damage fuel tube from yesterday was back in shape. Like it had never been ruptured.

She realized the similarities between this metal leg and the one in the dream. The one she replaced her broken real leg with. What did that all mean? That it really was a prosthetic? Was she finally starting to remember where she had gotten it from? She hoped so.

She got out of bed and walked up to the window.
A thin layer of frost had formed upon the glass. But there was not a snowflake outside. Winter was still being kept on hold till the last Autumn rain had passed. As was any sighs of holiday preparations.

The trees where bare of leaves, and the houses where bare of decorations. Nopony wanted to get their Hearts Warming trinkets sullied by the coming rainfall. The streets themselves where bare of ponies that had yer to leave for their daily activities. Even the sun looked reluctant to leave the horizon. Its early rays put the empty town in a dim light of long shadows and dull colors.

Ponyville rarely looked so bare. The sight did not ease Sweetie's mood. It was if as the fun times themselves had been put on hold. There would be no snowball fights or ice skating until the storm blew over.

Ice... her thoughts returned to the dream. The ice... all answers laid behind that ice.

In secret she wished the time had been put on hold. That it did not have to be school day. That she could hide from the world under her blanket.

But she could not. Anny moment now Rarity would come knocking and forcing her out of bed. She rather not be caught unprepared.

She made sure all her socks sat tight on her legs, and made a horrifying discovery. She only had three socks.

In a flash she remembered what had happened yesterday. She had wrestled with Scootaloo, and the sock had been torn apart. She had to use another sock to cover up her bandage. She remembered standing before Rarity with an explanation in mind. That she had lost it.

But Rarity had not asked. She had not seemed to even notice. It must have been because she was so caught up in her work she did not have time for anything else. That was why there had been no point in asking about her metallic leg. She could just as well have been screaming "By Celestia I am a robot! I blew myself up! I walked through Everfree Forest alone and then i got eaten by a wolf" and Rarity would not have reacted.
At least that was what Sweetie told herself.

But Rarity would react now. Don't panic, she told herself. If Rarity asked what she was doing up so early she would blame it on a bad dream. A nightmare would also help explain her sullen mood. Although that could be blamed on the fact that the weekend was over. A half truth. And if she asked about the missing sock, then the old explanation still stood - she would say that she had lost it.

***

Rarity did not ask. Downstairs her big sister was asleep at her workstation. She had pulled several half finished dresses over her as a blanket and was using one of the manikins as a pillow. She must have worked up all night.
What could prompt her sister to work herself into exhaustion like that Sweetie did not know. But she did know it was not the first time. It must be the Hearts Warming Eve rush.

Sweetie took this opportunity to sneak over to her coat and pull out the ruined sock from its pocket. Then She took some needle and thread from the workstation. Memories of what she had done the night before flashed through her mind as she looked at the pile of dresses rise and fall in tune with her sisters breath. She could still not know what she had been thinking.

She went into the kitchen and started to patch the sock together. A few stitches later and it was as good as new. (as far as being a ruined scarf used as a sock could make it new.)

With her socks on she sat down at the dinner table and made herself a breakfast. Just some cereals and milk.

As she chewed she started to think really hard about the taste.
How could she possibly feel any taste at all if she was a robot? Robots could not feel taste could they?
Unless they where programmed to. But how would you program that?

She looked down at her cereals. Where she programmed to like them? the thought was absurd. Yet it would not leave her.
If she had been programmed to know what these cereals tasted like then ... How would she know that she was not programmed?

She needed to preform a taste test. She needed to eat something she would not normally eat.

She pulled out some salad from the fridge and started to munch on one of the green leaves, feeling the wet, slightly bitter taste.
Even though she was a herbivore she had never been to found of the idea of raw green food. It was something she always saw grownups eat. Sugary canny, ice cream and cake on the other hoof. That was real foals food. That was what she liked.

That was what she might have been programmed to like.

She then pulled out some carrot and tomato and ate them too. They were all vegetables. All green food that she would never eat raw. Yet they all had a taste to her. And they all tasted differently.

She moved into the back of the fridge. Pulling out some sauerkraut. True to its name it tasted sour. Sweetie's gag reflex kicked in and she spit it out into the sink. Now that was something she would never have eaten. Something she could not have been programmed to know the taste of.

She swallowed some water from the sink-tap and tried to wash the bitter-sour taste off her tongue. Yet it would not leave her. She needed something else to wash that awful taste from her mouth.

Her eyes looked up upon the pantry.
Time for another taste test.

She pulled a stool up to the pantry to be able to reach the top shelf. She listened one more time for sister's sleeping rhythm before climbing up and getting in reach of the prize placed on the top shelf. The cookie jar - filled to the brim with mothers special home baked cookies. A token from their parents who, along with leaving Sweetie in the care of her older sister, had also left a jar full of Sweetie's favorite chocolate cookies.

They truly tasted like nothing else. Not a single snack in Sugar Cube Corner could be compared with the heavenly taste of mother's cookies. Sweetie absolutely could not get enough of them. Even though it had been long since she last saw her parents, before they left on their tour across the world, mother would send home a package of her cookies on a regular basis - along with a letter detailing their journeys. Lest the household would have run out of cookies long ago.

Rarity herself was not to found of keeping sweets lying around the house. She said they where bad for bout figure and health. The cookies from mother was the only exception. And she always stored them way out of reach. Lest Sweetie would devour them all.
It was only because of her efforts to keep the cookie consumption to a minimum that they lasted from one delivery to another.

Well... She would not eat all of them. Sweetie thought as she brought a cookie out of the jar and into her mouth. Just one.

She chewed slowly, feeling the crunching between her teeth and the chocolate melt on her tongue. The taste was heavenly. The chocolate washing the sour tastes from her tongue The cookie crumbs scrubbing her throat clean. The whole sugary goodness neutralizing the bitterness in her belly. And ...

-:: ... Taste ... Analysis ... ::-

Sweetie almost spat out everything in pure shock.

Who said that?!

She looked around the room. But it was empty. She could still hear Rarity sleeping out in the Boutique.
Strange. She knew she heard something. She could have sworn somepony had just snuck up behind her and whispered into her ear. Was Rarity was talking in her sleep? No. She would have been standing right here In the kitchen if she did. Was there somepony else in the house besides the two of them?
Did they have a burglar? Should not burglars normally come during the night when everypony was sleeping?
Then again. It was far to early in the morning for any sane pony to be up.

But nopony, no mater how skilled of a burglar, could have moved fast enough to disappear from the room in the split second it took for her to turn her head. Unless it was a unicorn burglar who had teleported in and out in the blink of an eye. But why would a burglar make their presence known anyway?

Sweetie pulled away the stool and closed the pantry door. All thoughts of cookies where gone from her mind.
She knew she heard something. The voice was right next to her head.

In fact, it was almost like if it was in her head.

Sweetie put her hooves on her temple.
She must be imagining things. No. She was just analyzing the taste. That's right. The word had just popped into her head.

"Analyzing." She whispered to herself and forcefully giggled. She really was a dictionary sometimes. Funny word. Ha, ha.

She shook her head. Wow. She was thinking way too much about this.

As she stood there analyzing her own thoughts she realized she had a entire meal's worth of half eaten fruit and vegetables on her hoof. Everything she ha taken a bite out of had been thrown out of the fridge and onto the kitchen floor.

What was she to do with all the things? Rarity would be so mad at her, both for dirtying the floor, and for wasting so much food.
Therefore she could not just simply throw it all away. Rarity would notice it it all went into the garbage can.
She was gonna have to make use of it. She would simply have to shove it all into her lunchbox and eat it at school. Rarity would not be mad at her for making her own school-lunch after all. It would be a bitter, sour tasting lunch. But it was better then facing sister's wrath.

But then she noticed her lunchbox, already packed and waiting for her on the sink. Along with a note from Rarity. She must have stayed up so late that it had become morning, and prepared Sweeties school-lunch for her, before falling asleep under her work.

Panicking, Sweetie swooped all the half eaten vegetables off the floor and shoved them down into the box anyway. And by some miracle managed to close the lid. She would have to eat an extra large lunch today. Or maybe just throw away the bitter-sour things once she got to school.

She secured the lunchbox with a belt she borrowed from the shop and shoved the package into her saddlebag. She then borrowed the same couple of boots from yesterday under the not-at-all made up impression that it was gonna get rainy outside.

Rarity was still asleep as Sweetie was about to leave. The pile of dresses rose and fell in tune to her breathing. Sweetie did not feel like waking her sister. She very carefully opened the front door, mindful of the bell just above it. If she was careful she might just be able to squeeze through the gap without setting it off.

She pushed her saddlebags out in front of her and was about to squeeze through herself when a strong gust of wind threw the door open.

In Sweeties ears the bell above the door sounded louder then it ever had before.

Rarity jumped up from underneath her pile.

“Yes! Yes!... Welcome to my boutique....Um.. Excuse me just a moment... I'll be with you shortly.” She rambled while trying to brush her hair with her hoof and magically float all the dresses up from the floor and levitate them side by side in a displaying fashion.

“They will be ready soon. Just...”

Then she realized it was not a customer in her doorway. But her sister.

“Oh! good morning Sweetie. You are up early.” she said as a professional business smile spread across her face.

“Yes! It's a school day” Sweetie answered. Forcing herself to smile back. In the time of Rarity's drowsy disorientation, Sweetie had managed to strap the saddlebags onto herself.

“Yes... Yes it is.” Rarity answered. Thankfully not looking at the clock.

The two of them stared at each other. Fake smiles taped to their faces. An awkward silence filled the air. That awkward silence that comes when both parties knows somepony has done something wrong, but neither want to be the first to bring it up.

The wind rung the doorbell a second time. Snapping them out of their trance.

They both diverted their eyes.

“Well. Goodbye!” They said in unison. And Sweetie closed the door.

***

It was still early in the morning. Far to early to be time for school. But Sweetie had nowhere else to go.

The wind seemed to have gotten colder still since yesterday and Sweetie regretted not having borrowed the same coat as then.

She looked around her. The dark blue sky over was clear over Ponyville, but in the east a wall of black clouds rose over the horizon. A precursor of an ominous storm that seemed to bear promises of ill times.

As she walked through the empty town she was surprised when she noticed another figure so early walking the street towards the school. At first she thought it was her imaginary burglar. But then she recognized the orange and purple colors of her friend.

She hesitated. She had promised Applebloom not to talk to Scootaloo. But it did not feel right to ignore each other. They could at least walk to school together without saying anything. In fact not saying anything was probably for the best.

I wont talk to her .She thought. I will just say hi.

“Hi Scootaloo!” She called out.

She received no answer.

She called out again. This time Scoots ears perked. She turned around and clearly saw her. But instead of waiting for her Scootaloo began to speed up.
Sweetie increased her own speed.

“Scootaloo! Wait for me!” she called out.

But Scootaloo only started running even faster and soon both fillies were galloping towards the school. Was this some kind of a race? She had raced with her friends to school before. A part of her wanted to believe this was just like those times. But an uncomfortable knot had started to from in Sweeties belly. a knot brought on by an equally uncomfortable thought.

That Scootaloo wasn't racing with her. She is running away from her.

Scootaloo was fast. Even without her scooter. She could flap her underdeveloped wings to give her a speed boost even while running.
Sweetie was no runner. But she was a CMC and had the driving force of ten fillies if she put her mind to something. And right now she wanted to catch up to Scootaloo.
Because this was getting ridiculous. They might have agreed not to speak to each other. But that was no reason to hide from each other.

Scootaloo looked behind her and increased her speed. In turn Sweetie had to push herself even harder. She was not letting Scootaloo get away. Little by little her speed increased. They both ran so fast that all the leaves would be yanked from the trees if the running of the leaves had not already passed. And they had the strong autumn wind in their back. As she ran she could swear she heard the wind whisper through the naked branches.

-:: ... Speed Limit ... Override ... Wall ... Breach ... Leakage ... ::-

Sweetie didn't have time to look for whoever was whispering. Her entire focus was on the purple tail in front of her.
She was beginning to catch up to Scootaloo. But the school building had appeared between the trees. Scootaloo made a dash for the gate in the fence that had so many times before been their finish line.

But Scootaloo did not stop at the fence. She dashed past it, right towards the school doors.

With all her determination, Sweetie willed her own legs to move even faster. And somehow they did. She made her own dash past the fence and leaped the last distance to the door threshold just as Scootaloo put her hoof on the handle.

They both crashed into the school and preformed a double pony somersault through the corridor.
Sweetie's lunchbox flew out of her bag, the rem burst and the contents splattered over the floor.

Scootaloo got on her hooves and made a break for the classroom door. But Sweetie was able to catch her just before she reached the handle. She pushed her away from the door and up against the wall.

“You win!” She gasped. “Bravo. Hurray. You really are the fastest!”

“Let go of me!” Scootaloo hissed. Her voice was full of fury. But Sweetie could see the tears in her eyes.

“I know we are not to speak to each other. But Please don't cry... I know you feel sorry for me but ...”

That somehow only seemed to made Scoot angrier. She grimaced against her as she tried to break free of sweeties grip. But she would not let go.

“SWEETIE!”

The voice came from the door. Sweetie turned to see Applebloom standing in the open doorway, with a look of utter horror in her eyes.

What was she doing here so early?

“Let go of her!”

“Not until you all stop looking at me like I'm a … a ...”

“Sweetie... You are choking me...” Scoot said with a whisper.

Sweetie looked down on her hooves and realized that she was not just pinning Scootaloo to the wall. One hoof was pinning Scoot's foreleg away. And the other – her right foreleg – was pushing up right underneath Scootaloos chin.

She all but leaped back from her friend. Allowing Scoot to fall to the floor.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”

Scootaloo gasped for air. Sweetie stretched out her right hoof to help. But Scoot pushed it away.

Sweetie didn't know what to do or say. She looked at Applebloom for guidance. But she looked like somepony had just told her that Santa Hooves wasn't real.

“I'm not a Bloodbot.” Escaped her lips.

That's when the classroom door swung open and Miss Cheerilee stepped out into the hall.

“Oh!” she said in surprise. “I thought I heard something but did not realize it was you three. What are you doing here so early?”

The trio looked at each other.

“We could not sleep.” became the collective answer.

Cheerilee chuckled “Well. Since you're here you might as well wait in the ...”

She gasped as she looked down the corridor and saw where the lunchbox bomb had exploded. She turned back to them with a frown on her face.

“What are you doing...?”

“It was me!” Sweetie confessed immediately. “We... Raced to school and I... Dropped my lunchbox.”

“Well. In that case I guess you are just gonna have to clean it up before class starts. The rest of you can wait inside while I finish up preparing for today's lesson.”

Cheerilee went to fetch some things from the janitors locker. In the short time they where alone Sweetie continued to plead forgiveness from Scoot. But the only thing she got was a harsh look.

“Don't speak to me you... you...” Scootaloo bit her lip. Whatever she was about to say she swallowed it, turned away and entered the classroom.

“You should really leave her alone”. Said Applebloom.

“Why. Does this have something to do with yesterday?”

Applebloom bit her lip. She clearly wanted to say something. But she could not.

Sweeties heart sank.

Cheerilee returned with a bucked and a mop. Then closed the classroom door behind her. Leaving Sweetie alone in the corridor.

As she cleaned up the contents of her school lunch she tried to contemplate just what was wrong with her today. She had just pinned her best friend to the wall like a bully trying to steal your lunch. And the look in Scootaloos eyes had only made her push harder. She had wanted to squeeze that look out of her eyes. To squeeze some sense into her and, Oh Celestia, What was she thinking? She would never do that to them. They where friends, right?

But then why were both of them coming to school before everypony else? Were they having some sort of secret CMC meeting? Without her?
Sweetie shook her head. She could not be thinking of her friends that way.
And why, why, why had she not asked Rarity how to remove the prosthesis? She needed that information. She was suppose to prove it to Scootaloo today!

Sweetie grabbed her foreleg. From somewhere far away she could hear the sound of ice cracking

She finished cleaning up just as the school bell rang and all the other students started arriving at school.
Sweetie put away her shoes but pulled up her socks to make sure they would not slide down. She would be mocked for them. But she would rather be mocked then have the entire school find out she had a fake leg.

***

“Good morning class. Today we are going to talk about anatomy”

Cheerilee pulled the blanket of a billboard she had set up in the front of the class. On it was the explicit images of the insides of a pony. The display drew a collective “Eeeeeew” from the class.

“Oh I know. But that's how everypony looks on the inside.” she said as she pointed a hoof to the billboard.

“On the outside we all have different colors, heights, weights and looks and many other distinctive marks that make us unique. But on the inside we are all the same. Not just all of us ponies. Every enquine creature shares this physiology. Zebras and Griffons included. In fact we share this physiology with just about every creature on the planet.”

She removed the billboard to reveal another one. This one showing the insides of some animals and monsters.

“From Rabbits to Wolves, to Manticores and Hydras, and even Dragons. All creatures share this physiology in some way. All have a heart and a brain and lungs and …”

A little yellow hoof came up.

“Yes Goldwing?”

“Miss Cheerilee. I thought we where talking about anatomy and not physics”.

Cheerilees giggled in her cheery tone. She then went on to explain that the two where connected.

Sweetie wasn't listening. She was too busy sulking at her desk.

In the row in front of her Scootaloo was sulking in her own desk by the windows. Her head leaning on her hoof. She was looking out at the approaching rainfront. Sweetie could see the reflection of her eyes in the glass. Not dreamy like usual, But heavy and dark as the clouds outside. Scootaloo had not even responded when Diamond Tiara made her usual comment about their blank flanks. Something that normally always ticked her off. She was just too sad to care.

It made Sweeties heart sink so hard she thought it was gonna burst through her gut and burrow into the floor.

She looked down on her sock studded forelegs. Diamond Tiara had tried to pick on her for those socks. And truly she looked ridiculous wearing them when nopony else did. Sweetie blamed the cold. But could still feel herself becoming the unwanted center of attention. A place she did not want to be in. Even as the teacher was speaking she could feel the pressure of everyponys eyes on her. If felt like if they knew already. Like they where all just waiting to jump her and pry of her socks. Sweetie tried to hide her hooves under her desk.

She could just not stop pulling at the socks. As if she stopped they would fall of and reveal her secret to everypony.

She could almost see the metal even through the her desk, the fabric and the layer of bandage. She wondered how much she would be picked on if everypony got to know she had an artificial limb.

She silently cursed herself for not asking Rarity.
If only she had learned of how to remove the prosthesis. Then she could have shown Scootaloo before everypony came. An then nopony would have needed to feel so sad.

She felt like her tears was about to fall.

-:: ... Cry sequence ... ::-

Sweetie almost jumped out of her desk. Who said that? She looked around the class. But nopony had said anything. But this time she knew she heard something. That word. That sentence. It had appeared in her head like one of her own thoughts. But it wasn't one of her thoughts. Not at thought she would have ever thought of thinking.

-:: ... Warning ... wall ... Consciousness ... 50 % ... Data leakage ... ::-

The words faded in and out like a wrong tuned radio that couldn't quite receive the radio-stations wavelength.
There was something or someone in her head. Did she have a radio in her head? Was something trying to communicate with her through telepathy. Or had she suddenly developed telepathy herself? Or was her prosthetic leg picking up radio broadcast now? Please let it be telepathy. Pretty please with sugar on top let it be the third option. She would like to have a special talent of mind reading. What would a mark for that look like?

“...and that's why I have summoned an expert in the field. Class, I want you to welcome nurse Brittlebone”

All attention was turned to the front of the class as the door opened and a wight unicorn mare with stepped into the classroom. Her red mane was gathered up in a hair-net behind her neck. She had an X shaped mark of a bone crossed with a plaster. And behind her horn she wore a nurse cap with the typical red health care cross.

“Thank you for coming here today. I'm glad you could make the time”

“Not a problem miss Cheerilee” Said Brittlebones “Its my duty to inform the young ones of the body. After all, The best way to prevent injury is to teach about the severity of them. And please. Call be Britty.”

She turned her attention out to the class.

“Now. In the field of anatomy, we frequently look inside the body to learn more how all our little parts work together. And that's what we will be doing here today.”

A nervous looking little green colt reached up his hoof.

“Miss Britty. Do you mean dissecting? I mean I read that some examine the insides of animals by … cutting them up.”

“We are not actually going to cut into real animals! Are we?” Yelled another.

“Oh good heavens no!" Said Britty. "Not Since the Animal Rights Organization banned all use of actual dissecting of live animals. It is true that “cutting into animals” once was the only way of studying their anatomy. We even used to cut into dead ponies too.”

Miss Cheerilee gave Britty a nudge in the side. “Oh, sorry. Anyway...” she continued as the colt turned greener then he already was. “...Today we instead use spells to see what the insides of the body looks like.”

Nurse Britty's horn lit up in a green glow.

“Now. Does anypony want to see what their skeleton looks like?” she said with a smile that seemed almost sinister.

The whole class recoiled in their chairs.

“Don't worry children. Its a completely harmless little X-ray spell”

“Yes. And as their supervisor I believe I will be the first ” Said Cheerilee.

Nurce Britty cast the X ray spell. Bathing Miss Cheerilee in a green light. Before their eyes she turned transparent. As she faded out her skeleton became more and more visible until it was the only thing that remained solid. Only a green ghostly contours remained visible of their teachers body.

“Oh my.” Said Cheerilee, raising a transparent hoof. “Have you ever tried that on a nightmare night?”

Miss Britty giggled.

”That not all this spell can do. I could change the strength of the spell so that we could see the inner organs, or the muscle tissue. But I think we should start at the core. Most tend to find that less gruesome then the softer bits.”

The colt in the back turned even greener. Cheerilee asked him if he wanted to leave. But he just shook his head. Apparently he did not want to appear weak in front of the others.
Cheerilee then said that anypony was allowed to leave the classroom if they wanted to. And nopony would think less of them for it. Sweetie knew it wasn't true. Cheerilee might always praise respect and everyponys equal value. But there was a strict hierarchy in the class. Of who was the prettiest, the strongest, the wealthiest, the most daring, and so forth. Everypony wanted to be looked up to and nopony wanted to be looked down on. And non wanted to look weaker then the other out of fear of being teased for it. Regardless of how well Cheerilee held the class together she could not prevent them from picking on each other after school.

Miss Britty canceled her spell, and the normal looking Cheerilee said out to the class.

“Now you can all come up here and try children. And If there is anypony who feels like they don't want to, then that is ok. Anypony who needs to puke can leave. Remember, Its all voluntary. No pony will think less of you if you don't want to.”

Sweetie felt panic slowly creeping up her spine. If she did that X-ray examination then everypony would know about her artificial limb.
And If everypony knew, then nothing would be the same again. Technically nothing would already never be the same again for her. But it would be far, far worse if everypony knew.
That's why she never wanted to go to any magician or doctor, because she would have to tell them her secret.

She would rather have it just be her and her closest friends that knew of it.

Scootaloo raised her head. Sweetie could almost feel her willing her to go forth and prove her theory correct.

Maybe she really had developed mind reading after all?

Sweetie was beginning to sweat. She was torn between not wanting to reveal herself to anypony and not wanting to abandon Scootaloo. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to prove that it was just a prosthesis. At least until she could learn that spell for herself. But that could take years. And she could not bear seeing her friends acting like this for that long. What was she to do?

She raised a hoof.

“Yes Sweetie?”

“Miss Cheerilee. Can I talk to you. In private.”

“Of course.”

As sweetie walked through the class she heard Diamond Tiara giggle.

“Looks like Sweetie can't stomach it.” She whispered to Silver Spoon. And they both hid their smiles behind their hooves.

***

Sweetie exited out into the hallway with Cheerilee tight behind.

“What is is Sweetie”. She said, looking a bit worried. “You and your friends have been awfully down today about something. But none of you will say what. Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No! Its that... I have something to tell you... About the X-ray.”

“Is it that you don't feel like attending? That's okay. You can wait out here.”

Sweetie almost said yes. But the words would not leave her mouth. She glared behind Cheerilee, into the classroom. It felt like every prying ear in there would hear them. She had to be discreet.

Slowly she removed her sock.

Cheerilee gasped. A little to loud in Sweetie's ears.

“Oh Sweetie. What have you done?”

“Crusading.” She mumbled. “And I … Broke my leg.”

The lie just slipped out of her. But suddenly the idea to get sent home didn't seem so bad. Perhaps then she could work up the courage to ask Rarity.

“Is there a problem out here?”

Miss Brittlebone had suddenly stuck her head out into the corridor. Behind her Sweetie could see all the foals in the front row leaning forward to see what was going on. (and a few from the back rows where leaning over them)

“Is somepony hurt?”

“One of my students has injured herself again” Cheerilee sighed.

“Well, then its a good thing that then nurse is in.” Britty giggled.

She magically grabbed a hold of Sweeties leg and removed the sock.

“My, my. That's quite a package." She said as she examined the bandage. "Did you make it yourself? Not to bad I must say.”

Sweetie didn't respond. She realized her secret was inches from being discovered. Yet she didn’t dare to object out of fear of drawing more attention to herself.

“Though I must say I'm surprised you can walk so straight if your leg is as broken as you say. You are probably just overreacting. You fillies tend to do that. It might just be sprained or something.”

Her horn lit up.

Sweetie braced herself like she was about to be stung with a thousand scary needles. At least they where doing the X-ray spell out here so the entire class did not see. But she had no idea how Cheerilee or nurse Britty would react once they saw her mechanical parts.

“Um... Miss Britty. Before you do that X-ray stuff. There is something you should know...”

Looking past the two grownups she could see Scootaloo in the front row. She was looking on with interest similar to the other kids, But for far different reasons. Sweetie could almost hear her plead.

Then she noticed Miss Brittlebone canceled the spell.

“Actually This gives me an idea.“ She said as she turn and head back into class, her magical grip not ceasing from Sweeties leg. “This proves a perfect opportunity to show you all how to properly mend a broken bone. Come on now. I help you hold that up so you don't strain it further.”

Miss Britty was leading her back into class by her mended leg. Sweetie did not dare to resist out of fear that the bandage would slip of in her magical pull. Even though very fiber In her being was screaming at her not to proceed a single step further.

“Please. No. I don't want to. It doesn't hurt. I just need to go home and rest for a while” She said. (And this time she really would have a talk with Rarity.) She looked pleadingly at Cheerilee. But she shook her head.

“Sweetie. You really should let the nurse have a look at that.”

“Yes. Now come here deary.” Said Britty as she pulled her up to the front of the class “A little injury is nothing to be ashamed of. But you should never keep it a secret, or it might get worse. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?”

She looked out over the class. The pressure of their eyes all weighing down on her with crunching force. Pushing her to get of this stage and leave before she made a fool of herself.

Voices in her head where screaming at her not to do this. That there would be no turning back. Everypony would know. But then she found the eyes of Scootaloo. The hurtful look on her friends face sealed her determination. She could not stand that look in Scoots eyes for a second longer. Not even for a second. She swallowed and pushed all other options out of her mind, and focused solely on the one thing she had been telling herself from the beginning.

“I have a prosthesis!”

The whole classroom fell silent.

A little yellow hoof came up.

“What is a prosthesis?”

“Um... Its an artificial limb, Goldwing.” Cheerilee answered. Surprised at Sweeties claim.

“A what?”

“Its a pegleg.” Somepony else shouted from the other end of the class. “Like a pirates leg... Arrr!”

“That's impossible” Said nurse Britty. “I have seen plenty of ponies walk with prostheses in my line of work. You do not hold yourself like that. Now hold still...”

Her horn lit up again.

Sweeties heart was pounding like never before. She was amazed nopony else could head the drum solo. Don't back out now, she thought as she looked eyes with Scootaloo. Her Pegasus friend was stunned at what she was about to do. Scared even, from the looks she gave her.

“I promised you I would show you.” Sweetie thought as loud as she could. If she really had developed telepathy then she wanted Scootaloo to hear her. She did not care if she was bullied for the rest of her life.

She never wanted to see that look in Scoot's eyes ever again.

She held out her leg. And the X ray spell shone over it. Revealing a metal hoof, and a mechanical fetlock.

“Oh ... my.”

The whole classroom fell silent as the light climbed up her leg. Revealing more and more machinery, pistons wires ans synthetic muscle that the ray could not penetrate. To some credit, the synthetic muscle did sort of look like the muscles on the anatomy billboard.

“Soon” She told herself. Soon they would all see where the flesh joined the machine. Her pulse increased as the ray continued to climb. Past her elbow. Up over he shoulder.

No.

The Mechanism did not stop at her shoulder. It continued over it. Her entire shoulder was mechanic. A clockwork of gears wrapper in a metal ball-joint underneath a solid piece of metal where the shoulder-blade should have been.

She looked over her shoulder. She was basking in the X-ray spell. And the mechanism continued Far past her shoulder.

Her back.
Her Spine
Her ribs.
Her back legs.
Her flank.
Even her tailbone.
They where all metal.

She nearly twisted her neck out of line trying to look herself over. Her panic increased with every screw she saw.

“Please stop kidding now miss Brittle. Its not funny … Please … Stop.”

But miss Brittlebones did not stop. She was frozen in shock. Unable to even cancel her spell. Her yaw was hanging open and her eyes where so round they looked like they would pop out of their sockets. Cheerilee had an identical expression. As did the entire class. They all sat there frozen. Like time had suddenly stopped. With all their eyes staring at her.

Those horrible, horrible eyes.

“Please … Stop.”

-:: … Trembling sequence … Fear levels … ::-

Sweetie's hoof trembled as she brought it up to touch her cheek. It felt as soft as it always had. She looked over at her other leg.

NO!

She fell down on her haunches when she saw that it was identical to her right. She held both forelegs out in front of her. The same metallic muscles, the same steel skeleton, the same veins of wires endowed underneath both of them.

The skin removed they where identical.

She rubbed her left leg. She could not feel the metal even though she clearly saw it.

“Please stop looking at me.”

-:: ... Increasing ... heartbeat simulator... ::-

She looked down on her chest.

She had ribs. A metallic conjunction of metal bars weaved together around her chest in a fashion somewhat similar to a ribcage. Underneath was nothing but clockwork and cables. And it all shimmered in a green inner light. A light that in combination with the green X ray spell gave her body a shimmering, ghostly and skeletal appearance.

A skeleton with no lungs. No liver. No heart.

Only a small circular devise could be seen in the center of her metallic ribs. Pounding in rhythm to her heart.

No. Not in rhythm.

It was her heart.

And it was pounding faster then ever before.

-:: ... Initiate ... Sequence ... ::-

Slowly the horrible thought sank in. All those things where inside her! Why!? Why was she stuffed full of metal!?

“Get them out. Get it out of me!”

She began rubbing her leg harder and harder. As if trying to dig out those mechanical things out of her body. But all she got was a burning pain in her skin.
Her skin...? What was her skin anyway? Just some organic fabric stretched over a mechanical doll? Was the skin the only part of her that was alive? Was she just a thin layer of skin over a mechanical body?!

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

This could not be real. This all had to be some sort of terrible nightmare. She must still be in her bed and having the most terrible nightmare of her life. Please let it be over soon. Please just let int end!

The only thing that ended was the X-Ray spell as the light from miss Brittlebones horn flickered and died.
Her eyes rolled back into her skull and she collapsed onto the floor.

Then the classroom exploded.

A filly passed out. The green colt puked. And a third screamed “BLOODBOTS! ITS THE BLOODBOTS!”

The class began to move. A tidal wave heading for her. For the door. Even for the window. Desks where being toppled and crayons where flying everywhere. The alarm where deafening as all where shouting to be heard over the next.

“OMG its a GHOST ROBOT”
“Can robots even be ghosts?”
“This is so Cool!”
“The horror. The horror”

Cheerilee tried to regain control but was to much in shock to even regain her own composure. Some of her class rushed past her out the door. Some hid underneath the desks or barricaded themselves in a corner with the them. And some even jumped out the windows.

A flock formed a circle round Sweetie and began poking and pulling. Some tried to remove her other socks while others tried to pin her down.

“Kill it, Kill it!”
“Are you real?”
“Get away from me!”
“Have you been a robot the entire time”
“Please don't kill me.”
“Why did you never say anything?”
“They will destroy us all! Destroy us all! Destroy us all! Destroy us all! Destroy us all! Destroy us all!”

Sweetie was swept away. Her mind overburdened by what was transpiring.

Then she saw it. In the back behind the tidal wave of panicking foals, stood Scootaloo. Pranced on top of her desk as a lost sailor on a lonely rock in a storm. Her face becoming more and more torn up by the second. She was gritting her teeth and struggling against tears that had already began to fall.
Then she jumped, and disappeared amongst the chaos.

Sweetie Screamed. And her scream made all the foals let go of her. She got up and began to run after Scootaloo. The horde was driven into a mad gallop in front of her as everypony tried to get away from her. They tore down the lockers in the crammed hall, knocking down foals who had tried to save themselves up on top of them, or even in them. Some even tried to climb the walls by grabbing hold of the clothing hooks. They scattered from the School the moment they where out of the building - like confetti shot out of a party canon. Sweetie halted on the doorstep and scanned the playground.

Scootaloo was nowhere to bee seen.

Sweetie jumped of the threshold and started running anyway. She shot straight through the playground. Out the fence and into the trees. She knew there was only one place Scootaloo could have run off to.

She did not hear Applebloom screaming after her to stop.

***

Sweetie ran west. In the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.
As she ran the bad weather was beginning to catch up to her. The clouds that had only hung over the horizon in the early morning now loomed like a dark blanket over the village. Sweetie felt the first few drops hit her back as she ran between the naked trees.

After a few minutes of running she spotted the clubhouse between the trees. It was easier so see from a distance now that all the trees where bare of leaves.

She hurried up the stairs and ladders and almost hit the door frame as she skittered into the clubhouse.

Scootaloo sat in the middle on the floor. Sobbing loudly with her back to the door.

Even though she had promised Applebloom to not say anything she could not stay silent any more, not after what just had happened. She had to do something. She had to comfort her friend.

“Scoot?” She whispered “Please don't cry. I know this is scary and I know you are sad but please... don't cry for my sake.

The sobs started to turn into snorts.

“You think I'm crying for you?”

There was a harshness in her tone Sweetie had not expected.
Then, the snorts turned into a laugh. It was a dry, hollow, joyless laugh.

“You think...” She stammered “You think I feel sorry for you?”

Slowly Scootaloo turned around. She had a horrid grimace on her face. Her eyes where red. Her cheeks where damp from tears streaming down them. But her brows where frowning like she had never frowned before. The v shape they made went all the way down to her muzzle. And her teeth gnashed.
In short, Scootaloo was furious. More furious than Sweetie had ever seen her. And her fury was directed at her.

“I'm not crying for you! Why would I ever cry for you?! Why would I ever be sorry for you!?”

She turned the rest of her body. Slowly getting on her hooves as she stared down Sweetie.

“You live in a perfect nice house with your perfect rich family. You have your own big warm bed and your own big warm meals and big perfect sister who looks out for your every need! A sister that is so perfect and pretty that she is worshiped by every stallion in town! That runs her own snobby perfect business selling expensive clothes to movie stars and royalty! She even endows her dresses with gems for Celestia's sake! GEMS!! Your family is practically swimming in money. You are able to afford everything you ever look at!”

She let out another of those forced dry laughs

“... And you actually think that I Would cry for you. Why? Why should I feel sorry for somepony who has everything!”

Sweetie was taken aback. Never in all the time they had known each other had Scootaloo expressed any kind of jealousy towards her. That was something reserved for fly-able Pegasi. Or for the foals that just got their marks. And even that was more of a longing than jealousy. A longing Sweetie knew herself. This was something she did not know. This was hostility.
It was nothing like when Scootaloo had tackled her to the ground and called her Bloodbot two days ago. Then she had been confused and scared. Then she had been sad.

Now she was oozing with contempt. And it was Sweetie who was scared and confused. Her family wasn't that rich. And big sister most certainly did not look out for her every needs. She made her do the dishes, do the bed, clean the rooms (the only thing she wasn't allowed to do was the laundry and the food) and otherwise used her as a servant when she was to busy with her clothes. Whatever riches they might have had she spent on expensive fabric. And she most certainly did not buy Sweetie everything she looked at.

“... And the worst part of it all is: It could all have been MINE!”

“What are you talking about?" Sweetie stammered "Its my family... I was born into it.”

“NO YOU WEREN'T!” Scootaloo screamed “YOU WEREN'T BORN! YOU WERE MADE!”

The words hit Sweetie with the weight of a sledgehammer. She was knocked back by the sheer force of Scootaloo's voice. She would have stumbled out the door if she had not bumped into somepony.

She looked behind her to see that Applebloom arrived. And from the look on her face she realized she was too late.
She did not catch Sweetie. She pushed herself past her as if she was something poisonous. Instead She positioned herself in front of Scootaloo. As if trying to become a wall between her and Sweetie.

"Scoot. Please stop" she said meekly.

Scootaloo did not stop. She let out a third dry laugh and continued her verbal assault.

“Who am I kidding! Your family would never have adopted me. You would never have adopted anypony! Just to think! Your rich perfect wealthy unicorn family would never ever thing of taking in a filthy, dirty, crippled Pegasus orphan! No. you upper class snobs would never settle for anything less than a perfect foal. So instead you used up all your wealth to make a perfect, beautiful sparkling, dreamy, unicorn SWEETIE BOT!”

Sweetie Belle was speechless. She would rather Scootaloo called her a Bloodbot than this. Never this.

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

Tears where flowing from her eyes with such volumes the thought her her eyeballs would pop pot to make room for the flow. Her heart was knitted together so hard it had become a knot.

Scootaloo wished she had her family. She wished Sweetie never existed. She not believe she was a pony. She had called her a Bot

Sweetie could barely get the words out as her throat felt like it was being clogged with sobs.

“What are you talking about...?" she stammered. “I'm not perfect! I don't even have a mark.”

“Oh I'm sure they will install one whenever they what to. That what you rich pony’s can do right! You can probably just buy a costume mark from some secret cutie mark craft club for rich ponies only!” She spat.

“You only used that so we could be friends right! You chose to be a blank flank so you could get together with the other blank flanks who are to stupid to figure out what you really are! You family Stealing BOT!”

“That's horrible! The Reason I don't have a mark is because... Because...”

The horrible realization crashed down on her before she even said it.

They where all thinking the same thing.

Robots don't get cutie marks.

The ice crackled so hard that Sweetie felt like her own head was splitting apart.

-:: ... Wall breached ... Data leakage ... 75 % ... Consciousness barrier compromised ... Warning ... Sorrow levels reaching maximum capacity ::-

“Please... Stop. I'm not..."

She could not finish the wishful sentence. For now she knew it was a lie. It was all a lie. And so did everypony else. Every pony in school had seen it. Applebloom and Scootaloo had seen it.

“Please stop looking at me.”

Scootaloo and Applebloom had that look in their eyes. Much clearer now than before. The same lock that everypony in school had. And soon the entire village would have that look in their eyes.

She could not stand that look.

Crying she ran out of the clubhouse and into the worsening rain.

***

All the time her friends had been arguing, Applebloom had stood like rooted into the ground. Not knowing which way to turn. Now she was torn between chasing after Sweetie or staying with Scoot. But as Sweetie got further and further away she realized that the choice was made for her.

Finally she turned to Scootaloo. At least her problems where something she could relate to.

She knew what it was like to grow up without parents.

But it was not the same thing. She still had her sister and brother and Granny Smith. And if they had not been there, then the whole tree of the Apple family that would have been there to catch their fallen apple.
Scootaloo had no one. No mother. No father. No family nor relatives that waited for her when she came home after a long day with her friends. She grew up alone at Ponyville foster home. It was a home well sponsored and there was so shortage of welfare for its only child. To Scoot it was almost like having an entire house to herself. But what might seem like a foals dream, to be home alone Unsupervised, quickly became a nightmare of loneliness.

She had nothing beside an old superintendent at the home. And her friends.

And now one of does friends had been run of. Torn to tears by Scoots harsh words.

Applebloom moved in to sit besides Scootaloo and hugged her close. Trying to provide some solace for her friend. The friend that had made her promise not to tell anypony anything about her true feelings.

Finally Scootaloo hugged her back. She pulled herself close as she cried onto Applebloom's shoulder.
All the while she was sobbing “It isn't right... It isn't right... It isn't right...”

Applebloom just sat still in silence. Not knowing what to do or say. Only knowing that right now Scoot needed comforting. Sweetie was something they had to deal with later.

Some-pony, not some-thing, she had to remind herself. But she didn’t actually know what to think of Sweetie any more.

Memories replayed in her mind of the events leading up to this.
After their unstable fireworks accident had revealed a horrifying side inside Sweetie - the two of them had spent all night at the clubhouse debating what that meant. To them there could be only four logical explanations.

It really was Discord all along
Sweetie did have a mechanical leg
The Real sweetie had been abducted and replaced with a robot replica in preparations for a massive Bloodbot invasion.
She really had been a robot all along.

The implications of that last one was something more than Scootaloo could bear.

She did not want to hate Sweetie. But she could not help it. If ponies really where making robot foals instead of adopting, then her chances of ever getting a real family where as good as gone. She was reminded of this every time she looked at Sweetie.

Still they hung on. They clung to hope beyond hope that it was not so. But the X-ray today had shattered all hopes. And in turn it had shattered the Crusaders. One third of their little group had been driven out the door by the other not able to hold in her feelings any more.

Applebloom realized that scared her more than anything. Even more than that their friend being a robot. The CMC was a foundation to her as much as to the others. For without it she had nothing. Without them she was just a lonely blank flank.
And poor Sweetie? Did this mean she would be a blank flank forever? The look in her eyes as she ran away was something that was gonna give Applebloom nightmares. She knew that.

But sweetie was the one actually living in the nightmare. Sweetie was the one who this was all happening to. And here they where sitting feeling sorry for themselves. that thought made Applebloom feel awful.

After a while Scootaloo's tears dried up. And she was able to speak again.

“I always thought we were something. Proof that all ponies can live together in harmony regardless of class differences. We were a trio of me, the homeless orphan. You, with your middle class family. And Sweetie with her rich sister.”

“Ain't we still!?” Exclaimed Applebloom. “You said yourself that she is something the rich and wealthy created. And she still chose to be with us. To be our friend. Doesn't that prove you’re right?

"But ... but ... She is a robot. She has lied to us this entire time."

"Has she? What if she really didn't know? You saw how surprised she was when our stupid firework blew up in her face. What if her family really did never tell her. Sure they might have built her instead of adopting you. But that ain't Sweeties fault now is it?”

She grabbed Scootaloo by the cheeks and looked her square in the eyes.

“I do not want to loose a friend. And I know that you don't either!”

“But she isn't real. How can her friendship be real if she is not real? How can her feelings be real if she is not real? What if she is like a changeling? Someone that pretends to be your friend and then BANG!”

Scootaloo clapped her hooves together for emphasis.

“I don't know. Which is why we are going to go over there and ask”

Applebloom got on her hooves, and she pulled Scootaloo up with her. But before they could march to the door Scoot grabbed her.

“Wait! What if there is more of them out there? What if her sister is also a robot?"

She wiped her tears. Now that her sorrow and rage was ebbing out it was being replaced by something else.

"What if its her whole family? What if they are all a family of secret-undercover-changeling-robot-invaders from space!"

Applebloom could see the imagination starting to wind up in Scoot's eyes.

"What if they want us to chase after Sweetie right into a trap? And then they will harness all our blood and make replicas out of our skin to fuel their growing Bloodbot army that are currently residing in the village just waiting to take over!”

"This again? I thought we had already considered theory three?" Applebloom sighed. Less than optimistic about her friends delusional ideas.

"No! I'm pretty sure we jumped straight to theory four. Now that it has been proven true we have to consider the possibility that they are ll robots." Scoot said. Trying to sound like some detective in a cheep Noire movie.

Her imagination was now running wild. And even though Applebloom did not believe in her ideas she did not dissmis them. It was better than seeing Scootaloo down and depressed. Still, she still had a feeling this was gonna go to far. Like it always did with scoots ideas.

“We got to uncover the truth. Before its to late!” Scoot determined. "But we got to be smart! We got to be fast! We got to be just like Rampony Mactails! Uncovering the mystery behind the Bloodbots!”

Whit her head held high and her wings spread wide she marched out into the rain.

"Come on Applebloom, All of ponykind is depending on us!"

Applebloom sighed and followed her friend out the door.

“Your head's in tha clouds Scoot.” She muttered. “Sometimes I think it's a pegasus thing.”

Author's Note

I actually wanted to use Nurse Redheart in this chapter. Unfortunately she is not a unicorn. So it had to be some half crazy OC instead.

Chapter 4. Emotional Overload

Those eyes.

They all had those eyes.

Sweetie cried as she ran through town, but her tears where washed away by the rain.
The last Autumn rain that had finally arrived at Ponyville. And Sweetie had ran straight into it.

The clubhouse was on the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres in the west part of town, and had been the last place to be hit by the bad weather as it poured in from the east. As she ran through town, the weather quickly worsened. The air got colder, the raindrops got bigger, and the rain itself intensified until it was like running through a shower.

The dirt roads where turning to mud under her feet and puddles had already began to form in the streets. And Sweetie plowed straight through them.

She had to run. She had to get away. She had to get away from everything. Away from this nightmare she had been trapped in. Away from the horrible things she had seen in class. Away from the fact that her secret was not only out – but that it had worsened. Her worst fears had been made truth in the green, ghostly light of Nurse Brittlebones X-ray spell.

She had to get far far away from her screaming friend. Away from the heartbreaking harsh words she had screamed, and the horrifying truth behind them. The implications of the evil neglectfulness of needing orphans made by her own family. The nightmarish implications of what it meant for her own existence.
The terrifying idea that she would never get a mark. An idea so scary she had not even been able to consider it.

Yet of all this things it was the eyes she had to get away from the most.
More so than the fact that her friends had abandoned her. More so than that her secret was out. Even more than the horror of her very being. Was the way everypony had looked at her.
The eyes of Scootaloo. Of Applebloom. Of Cheerilee and Nurse Brittlebone and every filly and colt in her class. The looks in their eyes had stung her worse than a thousand needles.

It hurt the most was not the things Scootaloo had said. Or even the horrible truth behind it all.

Those horrible, horrible eyes.

Everypony who had seen her had them. And they would soon tell others. The Colts and fillies would soon run home and tell their families. The grown ups would tell their coworkers. And their families and coworkers would in turn tell their friends. And Soon the entire village would know.

The entire Village would have those eyes.

The rain slicked streets of Ponyville laid empty and bare. Nopony wanted to be out in the freezing, hard rain. Not a single market carriage stood in the streets. Not one parasol had been left out by the cafe. Every flag and streamer had been pulled down. Every shutter had been closed. Not even a flowerpot had been left out, less it would drown in the rain.

Ponyville was like a ghost town. But once the storm had passed it would become full of life again. Full of pony's … and eyes.

Sweetie thought she saw something move inside one of the uncovered windows. And she just knew that it had seen her. She just knew that it knew.

It made her increase her speed even more. Before somepony put their head out the door or out the window. She had to get away before they saw her. Before they started screaming after her. Before they gathered their pitchforks and torches and came after her.

She had to run. She had to get away. Away from it all. Away from the nightmare she was living in. Away from the taunts and those horrible horrible eyes.

The only thing she could not run away from was the voices in her head.

-:: ... Power ... leakage ... Cry sequence ... ::-

The ice in the back of her mind was rattling like an orchestra of maracas.
Visions bounced inside her head. Visions of the nightmarish reality of her own body. The echo of Scootaloo's words.

In her head a thousand eyes followed her. Staring. Judging.

She had to get away from them.

She had to get home.

Home was the only safe haven remaining.

***

She was already rain soaked once she reached the Carousel Boutique

She busted in through the door. Nearly sending the doorbell flying of its hinges. She bolted straight up the stairs
and into her own bedroom. She threw the door shut, threw herself into bed and cried.

Please let this all be a horrible nightmare. She pleaded ans she pinned her eyes shut. Please let this all be over soon! Please let this whole horrible weekend just be a really, really, really bad nightmare she would have to wake up from.

Please wake me up! She thought as she buried herself in the blanket, Twisting and turning as she was trying to tell herself that's what she had been doing this whole nightmare. That through the whole ordeal she had just been twisting and turning in her bed. Like she was doing now.

She was gonna wake up any minute now. In just a few seconds she would wake up from this horrible nightmare and everything would be back to normal. And when she awoke she was so gonna have twilight wright a letter to princess Luna about not doing her job!

A loud knock broke her thoughts.

“Sweetie!?” her older sister called.

Sweeties ears stood up. Rarity was calling from downstairs. Yes! Rarity was coming to wake her up and this nightmare would end.

“SWEETIE!”

Big sister was closer now. And angrier. Sweetie must have overslept.

She untangled herself from the blanket and sat up in bed, her eyes still shut tight.

“Just a nightmare.” She told herself. “Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.”

She repeated the phrase over and over as she slowly opened her eyes. At first everything was normal again.
Then she saw the trail of brown trail of hoofprints leading to her bed. She looked down on her hooves, only now noticing the mud that had gotten stuck on her socks and smeared all over her bed and the floor.

Rarity had also noticed them.

“SWEETIE! LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO MY CARPET!”

The door to her room flew open. And there stood Rarity, her eyes filled with murderous intent.

“What are you thinking Sweetie Belle!? Running around indoors with muddy shoes! Awww, its gotten into my carpets! My poor poor carpets!”

Her voice instantly softened to a whining as she laid down on the floor trying to hug the carpet.
When she looked up again her eyes where filled with sour disappointment.

“And what are you thinking rolling around in the bed like some pig! What has gotten into you? Did you not even remove your shoes?”

With a frustrated growl she magically grabbed the blanket and pulled it, and Sweetie, out of bed.

She was about to continue her lecturing. But one look at as Sweetie made her gasp in shock.

“OH Sweetie what have you done to yourself? Where... Where are your shoes? Where is your other sock!?“ She gasped again. “Your leg! Sweetie what have you done with your leg!?”

Sweetie looked down on her right foreleg. The sock that had been on it had disappeared and she could not even remember when or where. Exposed was the now muddy package of bandage she used to cover with that sock.

A cruel reminder that she was still very much in this nightmare.

She jumped back into her mud smeared bed and pulled a pillow over her head.

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" She screamed as she punched herself through the pillow.

But the voices would not leave her. And She just couldn't get the sound of ice filled maracas out of her head.
The noise in her mind almost overpowered her sisters worried plea.

“Sweetie! Please stop and tell me what has happened. What ever have you done with your leg? Have you been crusading again?”

Crusading. The word made her want to vomit.

-:: Activate stomach rejection Y/N? ::-

She screamed into the pillow.

“And whatever has gotten you so upset?!” Her sister stammered on. “Is it about the colts?”

-:: Anger levels rising ::-

Sweetie threw the pillow at Rarity's face.

“NO! IT ISN'T ABOUT ANY STUPID COLTS!” She screamed.

The pillow left a smear of mud as it fell away from Rarity's dumbstruck face.

“Its about... About...”

Sweetie pulled another pillow over her eyes. Somehow not looking directly at Rarity made the words come out easier.

“Sister... was I ever in some big accident?”

She did not dare to look up from the pillow. She did not want to hear what Rarity had to say.
But Rarity only answered questioningly.

“Wha... whatever do you mean Sweetie?”

-:: Fury levels rising ::-

Somehow that only made her angrier. She had considered the possibility of Rarity not knowing. But some part of her had deemed that an impossibility. If she really had been in an accident then it was just no way Rarity could not have known about it.

“Was I ever in some kind of accident, that was so big that I had to have a part of me replaced? So big that i had to have ALL OF ME REPLACED!”

“Sweetie, Wha... what are you talking about?”

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Sweetie threw the second pillow at Rarity. And when it fell away Sweetie saw that her pupils had shrunken to the size of pinheads. One eyelid was twitching, as was the pupils. They where shaking so bad it was like her eyes where having a stroke.

Without thinking any further Sweetie jumped of the bed, and grabbed her bandage.

“I'M TALKING ABOUT THIS!!”

She ripped the bandage of her. Exposing the chewed up skin and the mechanical leg underneath.

“PLEASE TELL ME THAT IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF SOME ACCIDENT! PLEASE TELL ME THAT I AM NOT A ROBOT!”

Rarity did not answer. The sight of the mechanical leg seemed to have sent her into shock.
for several song seconds she just stared at Sweetie with a look of utmost horror. But what came next was even worse. The expressions melted of her face, leaving her almost completely blank. Except for the eyes. they stared at her leg in a way that was almost reminiscent of Deja vu. Like a form of recognition.

-:: She knows ::-

No. This wasn’t right. Big sister was suppose to protect her from all the bad stuff. Not be part of it.

“Please tell me its not real!” Sweetie all but whispered.

No response. Rarity looked like she had lost the ability to speak. In fact It was almost like she had lost the ability to breathe. Only the fact that her face was not turning blue meant she must still be getting air from somewhere. She was deflated, paralyzed, almost like her mind had shut down.

“Did you? … You knew … You always knew didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?” Sweetie screamed at her sister.

Nothing. Rarity just continued to stare at her. Her eyes so round that they looked like their would roll out of her skull. Pupils so small they where almost none existent.

-:: ... Initiating despair protocols ... Heavy heart simulation ... Hyperventilation ... ::-

Not even the ponies at school had reacted this way. They had screamed and fainted and even thrown up. She wanted Rarity to do that to. She wanted to have her big sister scream at her. She wanted her to cry and whine and shout and wave and hyperventilate and sweat like the massive drama queen she always was.

Anything other than this.

Anything other than that look in her eyes...

“This can't be what I am... It just can't! … You just can't...”

Still no response. Her silence was almost more conformation than anything she could have said. It was there in her eyes. Those horrible, horrible eyes!

The ice cracked.

Even her sister Rarity had those eyes!

“No. This can't be me. Get it out. Get it out of me! GET IT OUT OF ME!”

In a desperate fury she grabbed her right hoof with her left. Not caring that she fell over as she did. She rolled around on the floor and pulled and pulled. Trying to rip the monstrous mechanics out of her. And when that quickly produced nothing she brought the hoof up to her mouth and bit down on the gears.

She gnawed all over looking for somewhere to sink her teeth in. Anywhere. And to her amazement the teeth sank into the metal.

-:: ... Taste analysis... Metal ... Warning ... Self harm inflicted ... Pull away ... ::-

-::OVERRIDE::-

Sweetie resisted the sudden urge to pull away with a furious desire to her it all out of her body.

These machine parts where preventing real tissue from growing back. If she could just rip them out of her body then she would be able to heal. The muscles and meat would grow back. She could go to twilight and magically have some bones installed. Zecora must have some bone growing mixture. She would get a real heart transplanted into her chest. And there would be blood running through her veins again and nerves and...

A lubrication line burs and filled her mouth with gooey lubrication liquid.

She coughed and spat. She spewed dots of brown oil onto Rarity's precious carpet. She just barely managed to not swallow any of the stuff. Regardless the taste analytic in her head reminded her of what was in her mouth, and her belly once again insisted on rejecting its content. The feeling of puking almost made her cease her self destructive assault. But then a blue light appeared around her bite marks.

-:: Damage detected ... Lubrication line ... Front right leg ... Initiating self repair and restoration program ::-

“OH NO! Not this time.” She thought.

-:: OVERRIDE ::-

She sunk her teeth back into the steel. She wasn't going to allow whatever magic it was to hold the machines in piece. She was gonna destroy it. She was gonna destroy it all.

She managed to get her teeth around a set of wires, and pulled.

The wires burst, and sent a shock of electricity into her mouth. The shock it gave her made her jerk away. But the tiny wires had gotten stuck between her teeth, And they shot electricity right up into her gum. She tried to yank her leg away. But she only managed to rip the wires further out of her cybernetic muscles. They where now hanging like loose strings from her elbow up to her mouth. And the electric cramp in her yaw only increased with the effort. For it had caused more energy to run through the leg and out the wires.

The pain was unbearable. Her tongue seized as it got zapped, the gum felt like it was being fried as the shock ran through it. and the electricity rolled over her tongue and into her throat. And from there she could feel the shock bouncing around in her head. A head that was echoing with voices.

-:: Danger ... connection to right hoof lost ... // Panic pressure increasing ... // Response ... Pull away from harm ... Error – Command Override ... // Harm self inflicted ... Activate reflexes ... // Power fluctuation in jaw ... // ... Diverting power ... // ... ::-

Sweetie was screaming. From somewhere far away Rarity had started screaming. And the voices in her head would just not be quiet. And the the drumming of ice maracas was only getting louder.

“Shut up. Shut Up! SHUT UP!”

-:: OVERRIDE ::-

-:: Program halted ... // !Warning! // Pain threshold approaching ... Repair protocol - !Error! - Command Override // !Warning! // Data leakage ... Wall breach imminent ... ::-

The frozen wall in the back of her mind was trembling. What had started out as nothing but a crack had grown to a hole. A hole sweetie herself had dug. A hole through which the voices where sipping. And the more she screamed at them to stop, the louder they became. The hole only grew from the pressure as the two streams crashed against each other and against the wall meant to separate them. Until eventually... the wall came crumbling down.

And like peaceful city below a rupturing dam holding back the ocean – Sweeties mind became instantly flooded.

It was as if somepony had bashed a radio into her head and stuck it with lightning. As if she could hear every radio station in Equestria and the world all at once.

In an instant she lost her perception of the world around her. She was swiped away from her own eyes and her own skin. All her perception was instead pulled inwards. All at one she became aware of every last wire in her being.

It was like seeing her body from the inside.

She saw through her eyes. She was here eye's. Then she was pulled away into herself.
She was her stomach. She was her touch sensors. She was her balance modulator.
She was her airpump. She was her hoof. She was her battery.
She was her ears. She was her sound receivers. She was her tailbone.
She was her buffer. She was her power distributor. She was her voicebox.

All of these things were running around like an endless stream of rodents now that they had been released, and they pulled Sweetie along for the ride.

All these things she saw, and she did not like what she saw one bit.

-:: What is happening to me? ::-

-:: What even are half of these tings!? ::-

She was her right foreleg. She was her cybernetic biceps. She was the damage being chewed on. She was the wire that was pulled out. She was the broken end that was stuck in her teeth. She was flowing over her tongue. Next, she was back in her head again. She saw through her eyes for the blink of a second before being whisked away again.

So it went. Up and down, in and out. She was trapped on an eternal roller coaster through her own body. Her o so mechanical body.

The horror of not being in charge of your own body, of being trapped in it like a prison, Was overwhelming. Try as she might to regain control the sheer shock was rendering it an impossibility to think clearly. And her confusion only spread out to all the systems. Things that had operated automatically for so long, separated from her consciousness, shielded from her emotions, where now being disrupted by her interference. Her emotions where leaking out into the circuits and corrupting the data. Causing glitches and contradictions in the streams. The very energy that flowed through her wire was being upset as the power regulations started to misbehaving, causing further confusion.

And every system turned to her for advice, for conformation, for information. They bombarded her with their mere existence and pulled her in every direction at one. And as a result they started to interfere with each other.

Like a snowball being kicked down a mountain it gathered mass and momentum as it rolled down the slope. The disaster only grew and grew until it became an avalanche of corrupt data. Power fluctuations and contradiction information until her own thoughts where glitching out.

What few straight thoughts remained could be summarized in a single sentence.

-:: WHAT AM I!? ::-

She wanted to ask these questions. But her mouth would not form the words.

“RrrAAaaaRrrrrriiiiitt-T-T-T-T-yyYYyyyy!”

Her ears registered something coming from her mouth that did not sound like her voice. It sounded like several voices at once. Like somepony playing with a broken radio that has gotten caught between two radio stations.
Things like regulating her volume, strength and tone of voice had become an impossibility on top of everything else.
Something even told her that her yaw where no longer in sync with the words being spoken, but flailed around uncontrollably.

It all became to much for the system.

-::OVERLOAD IN PROGRESS! ::-

-:: !!ALL SYSTEMS REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS!! ::-

-:: !!EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN IMMINENT!! ::-

-:: Fainting protocols initialized ::-

The emergency procedure protocols said that the right cause of action to prevent an overload was to faint. It was the right responce to the overwhelming shock she was exposed to. So It told her body that it was gonna make it faint.

At least... It tried to.

But with all other things screaming for attention the body wasn't listening. Sweetie wasn't listening.
She wanted out. Out of this prison that was her body. She wanted it gone. All the things in her head. All the things inside her body. She did not want to be here any more. She did not want this to be the truth. She did not want this to be her life!
She wanted it to end. This lie that was her life. She wanted it to go away. If it would not go away, then she would. She wanted to be away. To be far, far away from it all.

Away from all the pain, the shock, and sadness that had accumulated inside her.

Like a second snowball been kicked down the same mountain it gathered mass and momentum as it rolled down the slope – getting bigger and bigger until it became an avalanche of emotions that threatened to swallow the first one. An avalanche of emotions.

Stress became panic, and panic became shock.

That, Piled upon the horror of having a body that was made of metal and gears. Piled upon the horror of the past dreadful few days. on top of all the sorrow she felt for the past few days. The realization that her life was a lie. She horror and of having seen all the mechanical parts under her skin
The shame and sorrow and pain she had caused herself trying to keep it a secret and trying to rid herself of her dilemma. Only to have all the hopes that there was any other explanation being crushed before her very eyes. The humiliation of that all the kids had seen the same things as she did in the light of the X ray spell. The heartbreaking of hearing Scoot call her a bot. A family stealing, orphan hating bot.

And the utter despair of having her home and her sister, her last hope and safe haven, fail to provide any comfort or consolation.

It all became to much...

-:: !!!HEART-DRIVE OVERLOADED!!! ::-

-:: !!!SYSTEMS CRASHING DOWN!!! ::-

-:: !Emotional registration and response protocols disengaged! ::-

-:: !!BATTERY OFFLINE!! ::-

-:: !Heart-Drive disengaged! ::-

-:: PRIMARY BODY FUNCTIONS SHUTTING DOWN ::-

-:: Secondary body functions shutting down ::-

-:: REBOOTING IN ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ::-

***

...

-:: … Rebooting ... ::--

“S...Sweetie?”

The sound receivers registers a voice. The eyelids opened in respond to the voice.

The eyes found that their eye-level was in tune with the floor. This must mean that the body was lying on the floor. This was an error. There was no memory of how the body had ended up on the floor. The memory of the last few moments where hazy at best. The memory bank had not been able to save any data after the overload started to occur.

Slowly the head turned.

-::Analyzing surroundings // Compare to memory // Recognition established // Sweetie Belles bedroom ... My bedroom // Loading corresponding data // Resting place, Playroom, Storage - Room inside Carousel Boutique - Rarity's Workshop, Sisters home ...
... My home // Safety // Safe haven ... ::-

-:: Loading corresponding emotions ... // !Error! // Heart-Drive still offline ::-

The head continued to very slowly turn until It could turn no more. The eyes had not been able to visually identify the source of the voice. And the analysis of the voice clip provided no mach. The voice was to ... torn up to be recognizable. The body would have to stand up to be able to turn around.

Most of the system where still offline. Only the main, basic functions where rebooting as the many smaller systems and subsystems where still recovering from the overload. The balance modulator was unresponsive. But there where still data on how to stand up. A command to was sent to the four confused, sprawled legs to pull themselves together and get all four hooves under the torso.

One of the legs had a malfunction. the wires where torn and stuck between the teeth. This was an error. The eyes moved to visually confirm the wires. The left hoof slowly rose and moved to grab the wires and pulled them out of the mouth. The damage to the wires was severe, but wound not hinder the process of rising.

Slowly the body rose. Careful to not tip over. And once all four legs under where firmly placed under the torso, and visual conformation that the body was not tilting or falling over had been made, the eyes began to scan the room once more.

Slowly the head turned towards the sound, and the eyes came to see a wight mare with purple curly hair.

-:: Recognizing profile // Identification :: Rarity // Loading corresponding file // Sister,Friend, BSBFF, Caretaker, Older sibling ... ::-

The list when on. There were many, many words that described Rarity. But those words where just words. Individual lumps of letters. They meant nothing to her.

-:: Loading corresponding emotional data ... // !Warning! // Heart-Drive still offline ::-

She looked at Rarity and she felt nothing. Only data. Raw data streamed into her mind. And with nothing but data and words to go on her mind started to look for more of that to go on.

-:: Loading recent file // LIAR,LIAR,LIAR,LIAR,LIAR,LIAR,CHEATER,UNFATEFUL,UNHELPFUL,UNGRATEFUL,MEANY-BEAN ... ::-

Strong words. Perhaps stronger than the others. And most certainly newer. New data had to be more relevant right?

-:: Loading corresponding emotional data ::-

-:: Heart-Drive back online ::-

-:: Rebooting in progress // 1% complete ::-

-:: Loading corresponding emotional data on Rarity ::-

-:: HATE ::-

-:: Loading HATE ::-

-:: HATE // HATE // HATE // HATE ... ::-

The simple raw emotion booted up inside of her. at the same time the facial features started to come back online. And her facial features adjusted accordingly in response to her one emotion. Her brown frowned as deep as it could. Her teeth creaked and her lips pulled as deep down as they could.

The behavior protocol deeming what she should do in this situation deemed that the logical thing to do was to attack the mare in front of her. With words, with pillows or with bare hooves if that's what it would take. There where many many record supporting this. memories of there being emotions like this harbored towards the mare. Records of desires to hurt and even destroy this mare in various ways. Memories of fighting. Arguing. Of Rarity refusing to comply with reasonable wishes. Of Rarity denying things that where desired. And most recently: of Rarity not providing the answers sought.

-:: Set phase to attack ::-

She bent down. Ready to pounce the mare in front of her. Set on "beating the shit out of her" as the records stated.

But in the records there was also a ton of more data saying that this was an ill conceived course of action. Memories of these hatefull feelings always diminishing. Data that said that sorrow and regret would always follow in their wake. Those where bad emotions. Things to be avoided.

Through this, data of another emotion was making itself percent.
One that did not want to hate Rarity.

-:: Conflict created ::-

More emotional data of this one feeling was beginning to load onto the slowly rebooting Heart-Drive. Enough to push the hate aside.
This data said that she did not want to attack Rarity. It said that all she wanted to be held in Rarity's arms and be protected from this harsh world.
Information corresponding with this emotional data confirmed that Rarity was here to comfort her and embrace her in a time of need. It said that Rarity was her last outpost of hope in desperate times.

"RAAARIIIIT-T-T-YYYY!"

So many systems where still offline - unresponsive - glitching - or not working correctly after the overload. One of them was her voice. But more and more was coming back online. And with them came the colective data on the glitching and errors that had occured. Memories and emotional Data spoke of something awful that had happened. The memory of what, was hazy at best. Corrupted by the overload. Her mind was not able to properly process it yet. The rebooting was far from done.

With this conflict the facial features became confused. Something in the memory told her that the crying sequence should be running on full. The sequence tried to boot. But a glitch just made the eyelids twitch. Likewise the whole face - eyebrows, lips and muzzle - started to twitch, unsure of which emotion they where suppose to form. The voicebox was unsure what tone of voice it was suppose to make.
There was simply to much confusing data renaming to decide a course of action.

But her heart drive said that it had enough information to decide a course of action.
It said that she wanted to love Rarity. And that Rarity loved her back. It said that she wanted to be hold in her arms and be protected from this evil that had become her.

-:: Set phase to hug ::-

She jumped at Rarity.

Rarity screamed. Her hoof came up. And Sweetie was knocked away.
Away from that safe haven that was her sisters embrace. Away from that warm hug that should have been waiting for her in her time of need.

Her systems failed to recognize what had even happened. Her touch sensors where still offline. Unable to register any force making contact with her skin. Suddenly she was on the back. Skittering across the floor.

Confusion loaded all over her Heart drive and her mind. What had just happened? Had Rarity not embraced her? Why? Did sister not love her back?

She raised her head to look at Rarity. Just in time for the facial feature reading software to come back online. only now was the eyes able to read the expression on Rarity's face. And what they read was something that should make the cry sequence overclock.

No. Sister did not love her. Sister did not recognize her.

-:: Why? ::-

Because she had those eyes.

This was new data. There was no previous records on what to do in a situation like this. But Rarity had suddenly become a rouge element. She had acted against all predictions. All data on the mare had to be considered invalid. There was no information on what she could do do.

Wait.

Yes there was.

-:: Loading memory ::-

The imagery of Rampony Mactails massacring robots appeared into her mind. Alongside the memories of how the children at school had screamed at her. Of how her friends had treated her.

Memories of those eyes.

Those eyes that only meant bad things. Those eyes meant that pain and suffering would come. Those eyes was something to be avoided.

There was only one response registered on what to do when encountering those eyes.

-:: Loading latest directive ::-

-:: Run ::-

That was a thought backed up by such strong emotional data that it was the only logical solution.
To run. To be away from everything. To be far, far away from those eyes.

-:: RUN ::-

On this the Heart-Drive had no objections.
Her safe haven had failed to protect her. Rarity had failed to embrace her. Those eyes had corrupted everything.

She had to leave this room now. But Rarity was blocking the way to the door. And the feeling in the Heart drive still said that she could not attack Rarity. Logic said that she should not go near Rarity. Because that would be to go closer to those eyes. And that would be counter to the directive. But the door was not the only way out of this room.

In her memory was a clear map of the room. A room she had been in many times. She knew that there was a window on the outer wall.

Without even looking she got up and made a run for it. She jumped and smashed through the window.
She rolled over the roof of the wider floor below and landed in the muddy street. She got up, ran, and disappeared into the cold, rainy night.

***

Rarity awoke in her bed. She did not know if she had been sleeping for hours, or minutes. She felt exhausted. Not just physically. But mental as well. Yet some part of her mind told her that at least a few hours had passed.

She must have had the most horrifying nightmare. But whatever it was about she could not remember. The dream was just a distant memory now. Fading into the past.
A sharp pain shot through her brain. As if just thinking about the dream was a painful act.
She quickly put a lock on her mental closet, to stop the skeletons from last night from coming out. There was no need to think about the dream. It was, after all, just a dream. And there was no Reason to be sleeping the day away when she had work to do.

She raised her hoof to remove her sleeping mask. Only now realizing she was not wearing it. When her hoof touched her cheek she felt it was moist and sticky. She held out her hoof to see that it was covered in mascara. Her eyeshadow had been running down her cheek. Had she been crying?

The closet in the back of her mind rattled.

She got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. A gruesome sight awaited her in the mirror. She looked simply awful. Her eyes where red ans swollen. And black lines had begun to form under them. The mascara itself was smeared all over her face like some sort of warpaint. She had not just been crying. She had been dragging her hooves all over her face.
Why had she done that?

The closet rattled harder. Rarity had to put a chair in front of it.

Focus on the face now. She thought. Oh how where she ever going to fix this mess?! She pulled out a napkin and started wiping her face clean as she mentally complained in her usual over-dramatic way. She was gonna have to get cucumber slices for her eyes. She would have to get a makeup for her face. She would have to spend all day at the spa and...

She was awoken from her daydreams by the sound of knocking.
The knocking was coming from her front door. She had costumers.

The spa was gonna have to wait.

I a rush she made herself presentable. She used magic to quickly apply a new layer of eyeshadow and poured a few eye-drops into her eyes to ease her red swollen eyes. She grabbed a brush and a few other style products in her magic to stylize herself hair as she walked. Simultaneously combing her hair while spraying herself with perfume and scrubbing her chins with napkins.

“I'm coming. Just a moment!” She said in the best sing a song voice she could manage – only now noticing her voice was rasp and her throat felt like sandpaper.

As she walked past Sweeties room she felt a cold draft coming from under the door. The closet in the back of her mind rattled like crazy. But she hushed it and told herself that it was nothing to worry about. She would pay Sweeties room no mind. She knew Sweetie was not there. Sweetie was in school now. Like normal. Everything was normal.

It knocked on the door again as she descended down the stairs.

“Just a minute” She managed to say without sounding hoarse. Even that was a strain on her tongue.

She took a detour into the chicken. Poured herself a glass of water, gurgled it, and spit it out in the sink. Then, she drank a few sips and gave herself a dose of mouth spray.

Much better.

It knocked on the door a third time.

“Coming, coming” she said as she doused herself with a little perfume to hide any sent of sweat she might be carrying. Next, she hid all the products under the sink and hurried to the door. Careful to not seem in a rush as the knocking was heard yet again.

With a practiced smile she threw open the door.
“Welcome to my Boutique dear...”

The next word (costumer) died in her mouth. For whom was standing on her doorstep was no customer of hers.

“Well thank you kindly dear” Said a mustachioed, slightly overweight stallion in a frightful flower shirt and Strawhat. “We where beginning to fear you leave us out here in the rain.”

“Dad?”

“The one and only.” He said with a laugh. And gave Rarity a hug. Without further ado he made his way into the the Boutique, quickly followed by his wife. An equally round mare with a red shirt and a set of seashells as jewelry, and the ugliest handbag rarity had ever seen.

“Mom?”

“So you do remember us” She said, and gave Rarity a second hug. “we where beginning to worry you forgotten about us after we'd been away for so long.”

Rarity continued to stare out her door. At the third pony standing there.
A purple mare with a glowing horn. Behind her she was levitating a whole trains worth of luggage.

“Twilight?”

“Lovely parents you have” Said her friend as she to walked into the boutique. “I met them in the street. Their trailer got stuck in a puddle when the rain started, so I offered to help.”
The long row of luggage followed twilight in through the door like wagons following a locomotive. Despite the heavy rain falling outside none of them where wet. Neither the bags nor the ponies had as much as a drop on them. The levitation aura around each bag must have doubled as a protective rain-sheet. Looking up Rarity could also see a faint purple aura acting as an umbrella above the three ponies.

“Yes. You have really been most helpful miss Sparkle.” Mom said as Twilight set all the bags down in the middle of the room. Neatly stacked in pyramid form with the biggest in the bottom and the smallest on top. “You really are lucky to have such friends.”

“Please. Its nothing.” Said Twilight. Blushing a little from the compliment. “And please. Call me Twilight.”

“Ok miss Twilight, its been a pleasure.” Dad said. “I thank you again for the help. But unfortunately I must bid you adieu. Its been a long trip and we like to have some private time with our daughter. Family maters. You understand.”

“Of course. Cell me if you need anything else.” Twilight said and made her way out the door. Which still was open, with Rarity still standing, staring in disbelief out into the rain.

Until twilight said goodbye and closed the door right in her face.

“Bye.”

As soon as the door closed behind Twilight, Rarity turned to face her parents. She could still not fully believe they where here. A part of her did not want them here!

”Its so dark in here. I don't understand how you can work i this dim light.” Dad said.

He moved and pulled some of the curtains open. Letting in the sight of the gray rainy skies outside. Rarity only now noticed they even where all pulled shut. Had she done that? When? Why?

Her mother let out a moan of discomfort.

”Somepony have made a mess of your carpet.” She said. Drawing attention to a brown trail of hoofprints that dotted her wall to wall carpet.

"Honestly. Ponies should learn to wash your their hooves."

"Yes... They should." Rarity answered.

Dad traced the hoofprints with his eyes. They led directly from the door to the stairs. The closet in the back of Rarity's mind rattled like never before as the skeletons inside had started banging on the doors.

He wrinkled his mustache in a skeptical manner as his eyes lingered on the top step. But then he shrugged and turned back to Rarity.

“Is Sweetie out?” He asked.

“Yes … She is … Out.”

“Good. We figured it would be best if we came while little Sweetie was still in school.”

”Yes... In school” Rarity Echoed. Sweetie was suppose to be in school right now. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The closet in her mind was no vibrating so hard that it was setting itself on fire. And her parents presence only added gasoline to the mix.

”Why? Why are you here?” She let out. Sounding way more panicking than she intended.

“We wanted to spend time whit you on this heart warms eve” Her father said with a chuckle. But his face became stern ans serious. As did her mothers.

They bout smiled so warmly as their eyes prematurely asked for understanding of what they where about to say. A look that finally ignited the spark and set Rarity's closet ablaze.

“And Rarity...” Mom said with the longest pause.

“... Its time we told her.”

Author's Note

Four chapters in and we are only now getting to the thing the synopsis said was gonna happen.

Chapter 5. Mental Meltdown

Stepping out of Rarity's Boutique, Twilight re-ignited her horn and summoned her rain shield.

She though about Rarity's parents: She had never before met them before, but she thought them to be quite the lovely couple, if a bit odd.

She had just been escorting Spike to Fluttershy's cottage when the rain hit. The little dragon had promised he would take care of all the animals and the cottage while Fluttershy was away on Discord related business in Canterlot. She was on her way home when she noticed two other ponies caught in the weather. Their trailer had tipped in a puddle and the luggage had fallen in the muddy street. She had offered to clean it up with a little bit of magic and then escort them to wherever they where going. And that's how she learned they were related to one of her friends.

She could see where Rarity got her massive compulsive to pack so many bags from. But that was also the only thing she saw in common. They seemed like they could not be more different from their daughter as far as style went.

They also seemed to lack a bit of Rarity's manners, as they had just wanted to bludgeon right into her home like it was nothing wrong with that. (Apparently they expected Rarity to be use to them letting them selves in.) But Twilight had insisted on knocking. Since the "closed" sign where put on the door.

Thinking about it, should Rarity's shop not be open at this time? She was a very professional business mare after all. But now she had closed the store and all her curtains where drawn closed. That would usually mean she was working on some secret project. And she did have a lot of orders on her hoof given the upcoming holiday. So maybe she simply did not want to bee disturbed. And the last Autumn rain was pouring down over Ponyville. So she probably just wanted to shut out the gray weather outside.

Then again, it had also been awfully dark inside the Boutique. How could she work under such circumstances?

Twilight was broken from her thoughts when she caught something moving in the corner of the eye.

Something was speeding through the rain. Something that looked like two fillies on a scooter. And it was moving very fast towards the Boutique.

Her ears just barely managed to catch a sound coming from the speed demon.

“Cmc Robot fighters ... !”

***

Rarity was just starting to comprehend what her parents had said. But the thought refused to process in her mind.

Its time...

“T - Time for what? If you want the time you need only to look at the watch.”

Her fathers smile started to melt from his face.

“No Darling. It time we told her.” he said in a more serious tone.

“Tell her what... Whom?” Rarity said with a sheepish smile as she started to back away from her parents.

They both exchanged a worried look.

“Sweetie, dearest” Mom said and took a step closer. “Its time we told her the truth.”

“T...Truth... about what?”

Now her parents where looking really worried.

“You know about what.” Dad said, as he closed in from the other direction.

Rarity shook her head in denial.

This could not be happening. There was just no way. Not now. Not ever. They had all agreed to put that horrid thing in the past and move on and never ever speak of it again. Why would they break that promise? Rarity had not! She had pushed it all out of her mind and buried it under fifty hooves of concrete. But that concrete, that foundation of her life was now beginning to crack. And a lot of ugly things that should have been forgotten began to surface.

She continued to back away from her parents. But they circled around her like two pack-hunters surrounding a prey. Without realizing it she had backed away from the door, where her mother now was standing. She was creeping alongside the wall like a mouse trying to escape a cat. But her dad moved in from the other direction and blocked her exit to the stairs and the kitchen.

She came to a stop in front of the uncovered window. The gray light from outside fell on her face and made her shadow reach far into the Boutique.

“Are you crying?” Mom said.

Rarity touched her cheek. It was moist and sticky. Her mascara was running down her cheek. She thought she had covered that up? But now it was streaming down her cheeks again. New tears where streaming down her face.

Yes. She was crying. On the inside she had never stopped crying.
She had simply taken that part of herself and bottled it up. But now the tears where pushing the cork away and leaking out over the edge.

“Rarity? Whats wrong dear?”

Rarity continued to back away but soon reached the end of her retreat as she backed into the window frame.

She did not want to be here. She wanted to buck out the window behind her and run. She wanted to get away and reinforce her foundation and keep those memories from ever surfacing again. But her retreat was cut of. She was surrounded. Reality was staring her right in her face. This really was happening.

And if this was real, then that other thing in her nightmare must also have been real.
The closet door broke and the skeletons started to pour out as she had not been dreaming.
No, not dreaming, but she was still very much caught in a nightmare.

“Sweetie ... She ... She ...”

The foundation burst beneath her metaphorical closet as the final barrier in her mental defense shattered, and she screamed:

“SHE KNOWS!”

The window behind her exploded. Glass went flying inwards and a scooter sailed through the air right over her head. Then something landed on her back with such force that it knocked her over.

“...YAAAAAAAAY!”

the scream of a dramatic duo filled her ears as she rolled around on the floor. She tumbled with an unseen assailant all the way to the pyramid of luggage, where she came to a stop by smashing into it.
She tried to rise from the sea of bags, but found herself pinned on her back, staring up at two little rain soaked familiar fillies in their best Rampony getup.

Applebloom had removed her bow and instead instead tied the hair-band over her forehead like a bandana. Scootaloo had put her hair up in big spikes, and had a belt over her unbuttoned jacket to which she had strapped a number of waterguns and slingshots. Applebloom had two of the utility belts crossed over her chest and where holding one watergun in each hoof. Plus they both had donned big dark sunglasses and where chewing on lollipops whose sticks stuck out like cigars from their lips.

After a few moments of screaming Twilight busted back into the Boutique.

"Is everypony alright?!" she screamed as she took in the scene. "What is going on here!?"

“SHE IS A ROBOT!” Scootaloo Screamed.

"Wut?"

Rarity was so shocked that she could not say a single word. Frankly, Scootaloo's hooves in her stomach was making it as hard to breathe as it was to think. She did not understand how Scoot could think that they where robots... unless she had run into Sweetie after she jumped? the horror of that thought stole even more breath from her.

Before Twilight could ask any questions mom and dad had moved in front of her and started to frantically wave their hooves in front of them in a dismissive manner.

“Oh nothing! Nothing! Nothing at all!” they said through nervous smiles as they tried to shove Twilight out the door.
"Children will be children. We will take care of this mess. Bye, bye!"

"DON'T BELIEVE THEM! THEY ARE ROBOTS TOO!"

"Robots? What robots? Awww, she has been watching to many movies that one. Yes she has. But that's nothing you need to concern yourself with miss Twilight. Now of you go!"

Twilight backed away from the nervous couple. She was about to be shoved out the door but was stopped by another pony who suddenly appeared in the doorway.

A far more hysterical pink mare with three flowers for a mark. She looked like she had been running marathons through the rain. Yet, despite being out of breath she screamed something at the top of her lungs.

“Omgimsogladifoundyousweetieismissingandivelokedeverywhereforherandihpedshehadcomehomeisshehere!?

Nopony in the room looked like they could make out the words of the hysteric school teacher Cheerilee.
Even Scootaloo had to pause until Cheerilee stopped to catch her breath.

Twilight tried to calm her down and figure out what she had to say. But then Cheerilee started screaming incomprehensible again. The Scootaloo resumed as well. Screaming that they where all like changelings pretending to be ponies! Applebloom joined the chorus, screaming that Sweetie was a robot. And Rarity's parents did their best to drown out the voices of the others with their dismissive claims.

The whole boutique became filled with their cacophony as everypony was screaming louder and louder to be heard.

The only one to not join into the loud mouthed madness was Rarity. all she could do was to stare up into the roof and wonder over how quickly her world had came crumbling down.

“EVERYPONY BE QUIET!”

Twilight's magically enhanced voice echoed over the others, and a wave of magic washed over the Boutique. Instantly it became as silent as the grave. Except for the rain which could still be heard smattering against the windows.

Everypony's mouths kept moving until they realized no sound was coming out of them. Except for twilight who could be heard caching her breath. She must have cast some spell of silence on the rest of them.

She gave everypony a stern look to be sure she had their attention, then took a deep breath to calm herself.

“One at a time.”

***

Twilight had to magically silence the crowd three more times as they all started yelling at each other.
Eventually she had to let only one regain the ability to speak at a time.

She could not believe what she was hearing.

What everypony said made no sense. It all sounded like some kind of joke. A sick twisted joke. But everypony around her looked dead serious, distraught, depressed and downright borderline catatonic.

She pulled her hoof through her hair. She had been doing that a lot for the past fifteen minutes. and her normally straight combed mane started to look a bit messy.

“Okay. We take it once more. From the beginning. One thing at a time."

She let her eyes sweep over the crowd. She had made them all sit in a half circle in front of her to be able to easier observe everypony. Her eyes came to rest on the far left side. Where two painted youngsters where sitting. A quick spark from her horn told them that they had regained their ability to speak. And her eyes said that it was time to exercise it.

"When did this all start?”

Applebloom and Scootaloo looked at each other before both fillies hung their heads in shame.

“It started with that we went to see a movie...” Applebloom began.

“We where playing. Trying to get our marks.” Said Scootaloo.

“And... There was a little accident and...”

“That's when we saw it. Saw that she was all metal underneath the fur!”

Scootaloo shivered and hugged herself tight and shivered a bit. Twilight could just sigh.

“Come on girls. There is something you are not telling me. A little accident does not just rip the skin of a fetlock.”

The girls diverted their eyes. Both from Twilight's cold glare and from the red hot stares of Mr and Mrs Belle.
Particularly Mr Belle looked like he wanted to give the two a piece of his mind. And if his voice had currently not been on time out, he probably would have. This was after all about as far as they got last time. When Scootaloo mentioned that Sweetie's entire fetlock had been exposed was where she and the Belle's had started screaming at each other.

Twilight did not know what to make of the elder pair. For how dismissive they had been of what the girls where trying to tell her, they also seemed very eager to hear what they had to say for themselves. As it that information was for them, as parents, alone. Twilight suspected that if she had not come back to the Boutique there would have been little to stop Mr Belle from picking up the the fillies in his bare hooves and shake some answers out of them.

In fact he still looked like he wanted to do that. And if it had not been for his Daughter Rarity sitting between the two groups he probably would have.

Twilight proceeded in pressing the two girls for information her own way. Verbally. She had noticed a nervous twitch in their eyes when she talked about "Ripping the fur of". She decided to press the subject.

“What where you girls doing? Playing with high explosives?” she said with half a laugh, not really believing in her own question.

But the girls hung their heads even lower. Their ears flat to their skulls.

“You have got to be kidding me...” She said in disbelief. “Where did you girls even get explosives? The store does not start its sale of fireworks until after Hearts warming eve. And don't try to tell me that you just happened to find one of Pinkie Pie's stashes ”

It was more or less common knowledge that the party pony stored secret stashes of everything around town for all sorts of "emergencies". However, Twilight found it hard to believe that anypony could, even by accident, find these stashes that pinkie had hidden only-she-knew-where. Say what one would about the pink menace. When she wanted something so stay hidden - it remained hidden.
Furthermore Twilight could not believe even Pinkie would be so irresponsible as to lend out dangerous fireworks to minors. Specialty the CMC.

But then another possibility worked its way into her mind.

“Don't tell me you tried to make your own fireworks!”

Again the girls hung their heads in shame.

“How...?” Twilight began. But a realization dawned on her.

A frown formed on her face as she gave Applebloom a cold stare.

“Applebloom. You have yet to return my Big book of minerals.” It was a statement. Not a question.

“Um...Yes.”

“You had leftovers from your mineral excavations.”

“Yes.”

"Charcoal and Sulfur?"

“Yea.”

“Explosive powder?”

“Yes.”

“Unstable compound?”

“Apparently.”

“Firecracker accident?”

“Eyup.”

“A big one.” Said Scootaloo. ”And that's when we found out...” she flew of on a tantrum again "...That they are not real ponies but machines in pony flesh! Twilight you got to stop them or something before they destroy us all!”

Scootaloo jumped from her seat and onto Rarity. She did not even resist as Scoot once more pinned her to the floor.

“I'm telling you. They are coming to destroy us all!” She bent down to yell into Rarity's ear. “What did you do with the REAL Sweetie Belle!?”

Twilight had to levitate The orange little Rampony of the fashionista.

However. Being relieved of the orange menace did not improve Rarity's mood. Despite being the only one Twilight had not have to renew the silence spell on She was also the only one who had not attempted to speak a single word.

Twilight had never seen Rarity so down. Her normally so graceful friend had been reduced to a nervous wreck that looked like she was suffering shell-shock. Even as her father helped her sit up again she remained silent. Indifferent to both her helper and her attacker. She did not want to acknowledge any of them. She did not want to acknowledge that any of this was happening. She simply swayed slowly back and forth. Her wide open eyes stared at nothing, and she was pulling at one of her curls. Not playfully as she usually had a habit of doing, but tugging, hard enough to straighten it out.

Not even when her parents were allowed to speak had they gotten any response out of her.

Twilight pulled her hoof through her mane again and got back to the sprawling little Pegasuss in her magical field.

“One thing at a time Scootaloo” Twilight said as she put her down. "When did you say this happened? How long ago was this?”

"It was during the weekend. About two or tree days ago."

"And how could she possibly walk around with that kind of injury? how could she walk at all when she should have been hospital bond?"

"Um... Because she is a robot?" Scootalo said meekly.

That explanation was far to simple for Twilight. She looked around the room for conformation. Did they really expect her to believe that Sweetie had suddenly become a robot with an explanations as cheep as that? Because he did not. She only took it as conformation that this was all some sort of scheme to fool her.

She looked of conformation in the others. She canceled the spell on Mr and Mrs Belle and gave them the same glare she had given the younger pair. But despite having their voices back Mr and Mrs Belle remained tight lipped. They diverted their eyes with the same guilty innocence as a foal who choose silence instead of lying.

Twilight gnashed her teeth at their unwillingness to cooperate. But she knew she could not actually force them to speak.

Mrs Belle gave an troubled look to the mare beside her. There, on the far right, sat Cheerilee. She had a blanket wrapped around her Rain soaked body and a coffee mug in her hooves. They had yet to understand a single word of the hysteric teacher. But the Belle's where clearly uneasy about her presence. They where uneasy about all of their presence.

“Miss Twilight. Please. Could we ... speak in private?

Her husband looked at her like she had just lost her mind. Twilight herself was surprised by the sudden change in her manner.

“DON'T listen to them Twilight!” Scootaloo shouted “They will drag you away and turn you into a Bloodbot”

Twilight's horn lit up, and Scootaloo recoiled to the notion that her ability to speak could be put on time out again.

“Ok Twilight said "But I'm not finished with the common questions.”

"What is there left to ask about?" Said Mr Belle. Still with a disappointment look at his wife.

"How come nopony noticed a big hole in Sweetie's leg ... ?"

There was suddenly a reaction from Rarity. She let go of her hair (which snap rolled back up into a perfect curl) and gasped.

"Her socks! She was hiding it behind her socks! ... Oh my ... The whole time!"

Cheerilee suddenly nodded. Twilight noticed the reaction and released the spell on the final pony in the row.

Applebloom covered her ears in case their teacher was about to start screaming again. Twilight could not blame her. It had taken five cups of coffee for the hysteric mare to finally calm down. And a blanket to dry her up. She still looked terrible cold. She really must have been running circles around Ponyville in the rain, and Twilight hoped she did not catch a fever. Thankfully, when she spoke up, it was in a slightly raspy but at least no longer hysteric tone.

"She had warped her leg in bandage. She said she had broken it and wanted to go home. But with the nurse there I thought I best that she look over it. And then... "

***

The entire Belle family went pale at the story Miss Cheerilee had to tell.

“You saw?" Mr Belle shuddered in disbelief "They saw? ... They all saw?”

He actually got up from his seat in order to slowly back away from everypony. As if that would somehow make Cheerilee take back what she had said. His knees where shaking like they where about to give out under him.

“Yea we saw” Said Scootaloo “We saw that you are all a bunch of robots!”

Twilight herself was stunned by Cheerilee's story. A part of her wished Cheerilee would take back what she said. That she would just stand up and yell "Surprise!" That everypony should just yell "Fooled you!" and then merge together into Discord. Then her friends would burst in through the door and laugh and say "You should see the look on your face" and then there would be cake and...

Twilight dragged both her hooves threw her mane. She had been doing that a lot for the past half hour and it was starting to look like a shaggy mess. About the same kind of mess her sanity was starting to look like.

Everything had just been dumped on her in one big heap of insanity. Everything had been a clouded mess of shouting accusations and weird statements.

Her head hurt. She pulled a hoof through her shaggy mane once again.

If this really was some step by step procedure to drive her insane, then it was working all to well.

She glared over at Cheerilees seventh cup of coffee. She felt like she needed a few cups of the strong stuff herself. Unfortunately the coffee pot was now empty. And she did not feel like going out to the kitchen brew another round. Not with all this crazy in so close proximity.

If only spike was here. Unfortunately he was not.

In truth it felt like all her friends had currently left her. They had left her all alone in this nuthouse of a town.

Spike was currently occupied with watching over Fluttershy's animals at her cottage during her trip to Canterlot. And she had taken Discord with her. So as much as twilight wanted to blame him for this sudden outbursts of insanity she wasn't sure that she could.

Rainbow Dash was of in the skies to oversee the last Autumn rain that was currently sweeping over the town. In truth her involvement would be minimal, since the storm was a collaboration between the nation wide weather management of every region. And would be passed from weather patrol to weather patrol as they pushed the entire weather front across the country. Rainbow would be working besides the weather teams from neighboring regions as no one mare could be expected to carry a whole stormfront alone. But As Ponyvilles only weather manager she was obligated to attend.

Pinkie pie had also left. She had gone with Rainbow Dash, as she had figured that every Pegasi would need a lot of cheering up after their hard work. And so she had turned her balloon into a flying fast food stand, from which she would be providing refreshments (both food and jokes) for the workforce.

She had figured that Ponyville could survive her absences for a few days.
Looking around her Twilight had to wonder if that was really the case. Was this really the mood people here succumb to when their jester left town?

More shouting dragged Twilight from her thoughts and back into the nuthouse that was suppose to be reality.

Once again the little orange Pegasus had jumped at Rarity, knocked her to the floor, and climbed up on her back. She was screaming at both Rarity and her parents. And when they tried to pull the crazy Pegasus of their daughter she fought like some wild animal protecting its prey, Biting and kicking and shooting with her watergun (revealing that it was in fact full of glue) and slingshot. Both parents had to dodge to avoid getting the sticky substance all over themselves.

”Twilight!" She screamed "Don't you know any check-for-robots spells? Don't you know the x-ray spell the Nurse used? You must know! You know every spell in the world!“

Twilight hardly knew every spell in the world. But she did know that spell. Even though she was reluctant to use spells so casually she had had just about enough of this crazy situation!

In frustration her horn lit up. A Purple light washed over both Scootaloo and Rarity. Revealing their interior.

Their fleshy and bloody interior.

Applebloom covered her mouth with both hooves as the two ponies transformed into a lovely meat pasty of muscle and meat.

Scootaloo just deflated as she looked down at her own vein riddled muscle tissue, and the red meat of the mare under her.

To angry to leave anything to chance Twilight let the ray sweep a second time over the pair with greater intensity - Revealing the squishy organs - and a third time showing nothing but bones.
To tip it all of she let her spell shine three times over the elder couple as well, Showing the same result.

Twilight let out a sigh of relief she did not realize she was holding when she ended the spell.

”They are... Not robots?” The deflated Scootaloo said as she slid of Rarity.

Of course they where not, Twilight thought. And neither was Sweetie Belle. She just could not believe for a second that the lively little wight and pink filly was anything but a living breathing pony like the rest of the crusaders. She actually felt a bit of joy in having proven the crazy filly's crazy statement wrong beyond doubt. A bit of relief that reality was still intact.

Scootaloo did not share in her newfound optimism. The revelation looked like it had broken something inside of her. She looked at Rarity's parents with the saddest eyes and said with a voice that could made all of their hearts crack.

”Why?”

The question hung in the air.

“Yea. I wondered that to.” Said Applebloom.

"Indeed" Twilight thought. There was a lot of "Why's" in the air right now.

Everypony stared at the Belle's. Stared at the dressmaker they thought they knew. Stared at her her crazy mother and father. Twilight had thought they where odd. But she could never had expected this.

The entire family backed away from the staring ponies. They looked like they where about to break under the pressure.

Mrs Belle looked like she wanted for the earth to open up and swallow her. She shewed on her lip and weighed an answer in her head.

”It's complicated.”

”It's complicated huh?" Twilight moaned in displeasure. Less than satisfied with that answer.

Why was everypony acting tip top insane all the sudden? Why where they all so reluctant to cooperate? Why did it feel like she had to drag every single word out of them? And why did not a single one of those words make any sense?

The only pony who had been willing to cooperate was Cheerilee. And that was only made possible after several cups of coffee had made the mare calm down enough to start speaking coherently. Twilight had dared to hope that she would be able to sort out this mess.

But the story she had told sounded just as insane as the rest where acting.

"Where is she now?"

Everypony turned to see that Cheerilee had spoken up. Only now did they realize that she had never actually finished her story. but had been aborted when she talked about the X-ray event.

"After that everypony scattered. I must admit that i was quite shocked myself. After I regained my composure i ran back and forth through town looking for everypony. Sweetie was my main concern. I wanted to know what has happened to my student. But i could not find her. I even went to the clubhouse but nopony was there."
(scoot and apple looked a bit shocked that their teacher knew about their clubhouse)
"We must have left by then" Said Apple
"And then I ran here hoping to find her. But nopony will actually tell me where she is!" she said accusingly.

Now everyponys eyes fell on Rarity. The one pony who had yet to contribute anything to the conversation. Twilight had to agree with Cheerilee. Sweetie was the piece missing from this mad puzzle. With her she would at least be able to confirm the true state of her being for herself.

But rarity did not look like she wanted to share that information. She started hyperventilating and only seemed to retreat further into herself.

"Honey?" Her mother stroked her mane as she cautiously "Where is Sweetie?"

"I ... I don't know"

"Don't know? What to you mean you don't know?" her father asked.

"She came here and ... and ... She knew ... She shoved me that she knew ... and then ..."

Everypony leaned in closer, wondering what had happened. But the only sound that left Rarity's mouth was a wheezing breath. As if recalling the event was actually hurtful.

Her father screamed at the crowd.

"For goodness sake everypony, give my daughter some space! You are choking her!"

Twilight caught herself beginning to feel weak in the knees. A cloud of worry was beginning to cease her mind. This was not right. This was not the mare she knew. Rarity was always in control of the situation. Even when she got kidnapped she managed to take control. Never before had Rarity so completely lost her self control. Sure she might cry and overreact a little from time to time. But never like this.

She needed to regain control. Less the cloud would black out her mind and her judgement would be compromised.

She turned to Cheerilee.

"Is anypony else missing? Or did you manage to get a hold of everypony?" she asked hopefully

Cheerilee however, dashed even that little hope.

"No. There are still several colts and fillies missing. And i know some of their parents work the whole day, so there will be nopony home waiting for them at this hour.

The horror, Twilight thought. Of being caught out in that rain. Scared and alone.

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Ok. Here's what i want to do. We need to organize a a search party."

Hopefully we can contain this thing before panic spreads, she though.
The last thing she wanted was the rest of this town turning as mad as these ponies

"Cheerilee I want you to ..."

“NO!!”

Rarity threw herself over Twilight. Grabbing her around her right foreleg with both hooves. Her reaction was so sudden that twilight found herself knocked over.

"Don't tell anypony else!" She cried in her face. "Please don't. There is no telling how anypony would react! They ... They don't know what they are dealing with!”

"Ok" Twilight stammered nervously. She rose and Attempted to loose herself from her friends grip. "We can be discreet. We can just get in touch with Rainbow dash and Pinkie pie ..."

"NOhohoooooo!" Rarity bellowed.

She started clinging harder to Twilight's leg. There was fear in her voice. Tears where streaming down her cheeks and her eyes where filled with panic.

“Please... Please don't tell them. Please don't tell anypony. They can't know. They must not know. Nopony else can be allowed to know. There is no telling what would happen if they found Sweetie first. They might hand her over to the authority. Or kill her!"

“Rarity, they would never....”

“And there is no telling what Sweetie will do!" Rarity Shrieked even louder. Her voice was now hurtful to the ears. "She is not herself anymore... there is no telling how she will react.... She might …hurt others ... Kill...”

“Kill!?" Twilight was shocked “Rarity, what you are saying doesn't make any sense to me! Why would she...?”

“You didn't see her twilight! She was furious! She was practically shooting lasers out of her eyes! … She tried to tear her own circuits out of her!"

Her parents gasped in horror.

"And she... She... She must have short circuited herself... It was... Horrifying!”

Twilight could barely make heads or tails out or Rarity's mad rambling.
The could in her mind was about to blow up into a storm.

She did not want to believe that Rarity was talking about her beloved little sister like some piece on nonfunctional machinery. A part of her simply refused to believe it. But another part of her. Her logic part. Said that she could just not deny all these ponies sharing the same story. They, at the very least, fully believed that Sweetie was a robot. Their story's where all to cohesive to be a coincidence. And the fear in their eyes was all to real.

In nothing else she had to take her friends own words for it. They had been through to much together for Twilight to deny her cooperation.

And If Sweetie truly could shoot lasers from her eyes, then it would be really, really bad for anypony who tried to approach her unknowingly.

Twilight found herself in center of attention. Everypony in the room was currently looking to her for advisement. She felt herself becoming the one being choked by their pleading eyes as they sought guidance.
She felt torn between her friend who pleaded subtlety and caution. Her parents who pleaded understanding. and the fillies and their teacher who pleaded for answers and action.
Could she really balance out all these wishes?

She took a deep calming breath hoped she had Celestia's ability to provide it.

Wait a second. Celestia. She would be able to provide answers. She would be able to tell if Discord had slipped away from Canterlot. or maybe never arrived at all.

She magically summoned a piece of paper and a quill, then gave the Belle's a begging look of her own.

"Can i at least get to write to Princess..."

The answer should have been given. But it still came like a hurricane as not just Rarity, but her parents as well. threw themselves over Twilight.

"NOOOO PLEASE! Don't tell the Princesses!"

Twilight tried to tilt and turn the matter at every angle she could think of. She felt like it was her duty to report something as big as this to Celestia.

But the Belle's pleads where relentless.

”NO! They are gonna take Sweetie from us! We do not want them to take Sweetie from us.”

"I do not want them to take my sister from me!"

Rarity was practically climbing up Twilight's leg. She felt her skin burn as Rarity pulled and pulled. She tried to back away but Rarity just let herself be dragged over the floor.

”They can't find her ... They can't know about her… they don't understand … We don't know what they might do! What if they lock her in a tower? Or banish her to the moon? Or banish the tower they locked her in to the moon? Or what if they start experimenting on her!?”

Rarity was hysterical. And her parent where joining her. Twilight had little choice but to throw another spell of silence.

“Ok! Ok! OK!" She screamed.

She immediately dispersed the spell. Then she pulled her hoof through her already Shaggy mane, and sighed.

"Ok, ok, ok.“ She repeated as she simultaneously ensured the Belle's of her cooperation and calmed herself down. “I'm going to keep silent. I wont tell anypony.” (At least not until we find Sweetie. She thought)

She took an extra deep breath. And began again.

“We need to contain this. And we need to be discreet” She looked around her. To make sure no pony would interrupt her. Then she spoke, this time with authority.

“First things first: Miss Cheerilee would you kindly escort these two back to their respective caretakers. And please. Be discreet with what you tell them." She added before Rarity jumped at the teacher as well.

“Yes Miss Twilight." Cheerilee said, and went to open the door. The bell above it made an unfitting happy tune as she pointed out into the rain.

"Now come on you two!” She said to the fillies. The authority of a teacher returning to her voice.

“But we want to help to look for Sweetie to!” The duo shouted.

“No girls. I think you have done enough.”

"But. But..." Scootaloo hung her head in utter defeat as she walked out the door. The energy she had once had seemed drained from her body. Even her wings hung limply at her sides, ans it was only their small size that kept them from dragging on the ground.

Applebloom followed. But she stopped for a second to look up at the two adults.

“Please don't tell ma sister!” she pleaded. "About the firecrackers."

“Its kind of to late for that Applebloom.”

She sighed.

“I'm gonna be grounded for a month.”

With the two fillies by her side Cheerilee left the Boutique.
The Belles where reluctant to see them go as the three of them were now witnesses of their little secret.
But before they could stop them Twilight magically slammed the door shut, and then teleported herself in front of it.

“Now. I want some answers!”

***

There where a lot of questions in Twilight's mind.

She started with the most simple one.

WHY?

"Why the secrecy? Why these desperate pleads for silence? Why the distrust of everypony? of our friends? of me? And of the princesses of all ponies?"

Rarity's father swallowed hard. He looked back at his wife and they exchanged a nervous look. She in turn looked at Rarity, who had been left lying on the floor when Twilight teleported out of her grip. She slowly rose, picked up the blanket Miss Cheerilee had used, and warped it tight around herself. Looking into Rarity's tired heavy eyes was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.

Twilight mentally pleaded to her friend to open up to her. She prayed that the bond of friendship and trust they had spent so long building meant something. But Rarity only diverted her eyes and instead looked to her mother and father. Twilight didn't know if something was transferred between them in that look. But when her mother looked back at her husband, she nodded.

Mr Belle let out a big, heavy sigh as he turned back to Twilight. He fumbled with the words as he began to speak.

"Because ... We couldn't tell."

“Why?” She asked, gritting her teeth. Still feeling like she had to drag every answer out of them.

“Because..." He mumbled "Can you imagine what would happen? Can you imagine a Little mechanical filly roaming around the town”

Twilight frowned. No, she could not. Because she could not believe Sweetie was mechanical.

“We where scared of how would ponies would react. Because if we where to reveal the truth ... It would be like a changeling revealing itself. We where afraid that many would try to hurt her. That they would hate her."

“Why would they do that?”

“Well ... Do you know the saying “When a mare and a stallion loves each other very much, they wright a letter to princess Celestia”?

“That's the explanation for foals!” Twilight stated. “Its what we tell them before we think they are old enough to handle the real truth.”

“That may be. But there are those who believes in things not far from it. Ponies who believe that life is an essence we are not to tamper with. Or at least that only our royal highness should be allowed to delve her divine hooves in."

Twilight recoiled a bit at this. She knew that there where those that put Celestia on a godlike pedestal. But Mr Belles way of about her was sounding almost scornfully.

Before Twilight could voice these thoughts on the matter Mrs Belle continued

“Even though we know that Celestia certainly does nor really creates a hundred little foals every day. There are still those who at the very least believe Celestia should have the final say in such matters."

"But we believed we should be the ones to decide about our daughters life.” Her husband shouted “WE! Nopony else!”
His tone of voice rose until he almost became aggressive.

“That's why we never dared to go to Celestia with this. We where afraid she would say no”

"But why?" Twilight wondered. "Why would Celestia say no to a research project like this?"

Mrs Belle Walked up to her husbands side, and answered.

"She is not the only one who would say no. There are Ponies who would see our attempt to bring our daughter to life as us playing with this holy essence of life. That would view her as something unnatural. A crime against nature."

“Furthermore. What we did was highly controversial...”

Mr Belle became silent. A dark shadow fell over his eyes as he pulled his strawhat down.

“Like... what.” asked twilight, almost dreading the answer. “What was so controversial?”

All their eyes had gotten darker. Mrs Bell shivered at her husbands statement and Rarity was practically vibrating. They all looked so pale and tired. It was as if all the warmth had suddenly left their bodies. Even Twilight felt as if the room had suddenly become colder. There where so many questions she needed to ask, but the oppressive silence was effecting her as well. She could only plead with her eyes for further information.

Mr Belle bit his lip and started shewing on it. Finally he said.

“We did things twilight. We did things you would not believe.”

Mrs Belle put a hoof on her husbands shoulder and shook her head.

“Things we rather not talk about.” She said. "Just know that... Because of this taboo... Because no pony else would help, we had to use more ... Secluded sources.”

“Secluded” sounded the same as “shady” to Twilight's ears. She was more than a little taken aback by all this. She realized just how little she actually knew about Rarity's parents

Where they actually mad scientists?
Did they have a secret lab somewhere? Did they have subordinates? How did one hire staff for such a secret project? Where would they have gotten their funding and resources from?

The word "shady" appeared in her mind again.

That's when it hit her. These Ponies where not just hiding a secret. They where running from the past.
Whatever story they might carry with them was for family members only. It loomed over them like some dark curse.

Yes, the whole thing was bizarre indeed.

She tried to shake the images of Frankenpony out of her head. But something about the way he talk about creating a new kind of life drew her thoughts to such fiction.

Whatever research these ponies had committed they where serious about it. Serious enough to go against these taboo's they believed existed. Serious enough to keep it a secret from everypony. From doubters and skeptics, authority and purists, from everypony they believe would be out to get them.

It was perhaps an admirable endeavor. Manny great visionaries had at first been shunned for their unbelievable ideas. More or less forced to work in secret, and without support until people where ready to believe them.

But if they had really made a fully functional mechanical filly, should that not be something to be celebrated? It would after all be the biggest mechanical achievement of the century.

Yet. There was one thought, one question that lingered over it all.

Scootaloo's torn voice echoed in her mind.

“Why?”

“Why make a mechanical foal in the first place?" She asked "Well, I can understand the thirst for knowledge ans science..." She said with a bit of a blush "But if you wanted a child so badly... Why not just... Make one? … the natural way?”

The Belle's looked at each other.

With great reluctance the mother answered.

“We... could not.”

“What do you mean?”

The mother looked like she wished for the the ground to swallow her. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The father put his hooves over her shoulder.

“We don't want to talk about it”

Twilight wanted to grit her teeth to this secrecy, but there was something about their statement that made her swallow her frustration. A sadness so heavy she felt herself weighed down by it.

Could they truly not have foals?

She knew there where cases when parents could not conceive. But none of them looked old enough to have reached menopause just yet. And they already had a beautiful daughter, she thought, and looked at Rarity. Could infertility really develop after a couple has had their first foal? Due to the great look of shame and regret on their faces she decided to let the matter rest for now.

But even if they could not conceive, she had never heard of anypony who wanted a second foal so badly they had to go and make one the artificial way. It all seemed a little to extreme.

Mr Belle continued.

“Please understand. These things are not easy for us to talk about. There are things about this project that we never wanted to talk about. Things we tried to forget. We tried to put all of this past behind us." He let out a heavy sigh "But I guess it was destined to come out sooner or later.”

“That she is a …” Twilight searched her mind for a better word, but came up empty hoofed. ”...Robot?”

He just nodded.

"Please understand Twilight. It is ... was, a family secret. No pony was to know.”

“Not even Sweetie?” Twilight asked sceptically.

“Especially not her.”

Rarity walked up behind her parents. She had picked up the blanket Miss Cheerilee had used, and warped it tight around herself. She looked like she had recovered a little bit of her senses after the outburst. Even if she was no less sad.

“It was a secret we all agreed to keep. A past we promised to put behind us!” She cried, like her parents had broken the worlds most sacred promise. ”Why would you break that? Why!?”

“I agree with Rarity." Said Twilight “You have kept this secret from everypony for, I assume, as long as Sweetie Belle have existed. So why did you suddenly decide to reveal it? What changed your mind?”

“Well ...We where only gonna tell Sweetie.” Mr Belle began defensively.

“No we were not!” Rarity yelled. “We were never to tell!”

Mrs Belle hushed her hysterical daughter.

“It was only a matter of time anyway deary. Sooner or later we where gonna have to tell her.”

She tried to stroke Rarity's mane again. But Rarity moved away and shook her head in denial.

Twilight could only shake her own head.

“You are dodging my question again. What made you decide to suddenly come here and reveal a secret you had kept for as long as she have lived?”

Mr and Mrs Belle looked at each other and gave a collective sigh.

“Because... Well. This might sound strange. But... She needs a heart transplant.”

“Wut?”

That statement came so out of nowhere that Twilight actually could feel her grip on reality slipping. Or at the very least feel a few straws in her mane curl up from the mental strain of trying to process that information. Everypony had just spent half a rainy dark hour trying to convince her that Sweetie was a robot. And now they where talking about organ transplants?

Mr Belle continued.

“You see. She has a component inside her, called a Heartdrive. I don't know all the fuzzy details. But simply put its a device that allows her to feel emotions like you and me.”

"The problem, however, is that this devise wont last forever. It is imperfect. And it is slowly deteriorating.
In fact we feared we might never be able to find a replacement.“

He locked up and smiled. “But we did.”

Mrs Belle pulled up her purse. The one piece of luggage she had not removed from her person.
From it she pulled a rock. A big glittering rock of that shimmered in all the shades of red and pink, and even a few spots of dark purple. It was a rough crystal that still had many pieces of gray rock attached to it.

Mr Belle turned his attention to Rarity.

“We traveled far and wide, searched high and low. But we finally found it. The perfect crystal.”

Twilight just stared at the stone in miss Belle's hoof. It was neither an organ nor a electronic component. And more straws on her mane started to curl up from trying to place it into all of this. The gears in her mind grinded so hard that she almost missed what was said next.

“... Though. It must still be sharpened to fit inside her. That's where you come in my dear daughter.”

Rarity flinched. “Me. Why me?”

“Because you where the one who gave Sweetie her heart the first time. You are the only one who can do it again. You are the only one who know how.”

“W...Why?.” Rarity stammered. "How. how can i do something like that?"

Her mother moved up to her side.

“Because you can shape and refine gems like nopony else. Your specialty is crystals and gems.

“I don't understand what you are talking about. My talent is making things beautiful. To create beauty!”

The mare embraced Rarity in a hug “And you did Rarity. You gave Sweetie the most beautiful thing of all. I don't know how you did it. But you did.

“I don't know what you are talking about!” Rarity insisted.

“Yes you do Rarity.” The mare was starting to hug tighter. "You where the only one of us who where taught how to cut these crystals, how to mend them, because only you have that talent. "

“No!”

Now the father was putting his hooves on Rarity.

“Rarity deary, please try to remember.”

Rarity shifted back and for the trying to tear herself from her parents.

“No! NO! I don't know what you are talking about. I don't remember anything.”

“You must! For Sweeties sake you must!” They shouted. Desperation was beginning to creep into their voices.

“EXCUSE ME!”

The Belles turned to look at Twilight. She felt like she had just averted a family feud.
She did not understand what they where arguing about. But she had to stop them before they started fighting.

“WHY!... I mean what. What will happen if Sweeties doesn't get this new … heart?"

The Belle's looked at each other.

“We don't know.”

Twilight felt even more hairs in her mane curling up. That excuse was weaker than Scootaloos.

“You don't know!? How can you not know? I thought you made her!”

“WE DID!” He shouted. ”I mean... We where part of the process, yes. But we are no mechanics nor programers. We didn't understand a quarter of all the things that went into our little girl."

“So you are not mad scientists then? “Twilight said. To mentally strained to realize she had just called them mad out loud.

Apparently Mr Belle didn't notice either.

“Scientists? I wish” He laughed. “My best subject in school was volleyball.” He slapped his flank, which bore the mark of three volleyballs. Not exactly the mark of a mechanical genius.
“That's how I won the heart of this beautiful mare.” He said. Hugging his wife “And that's how two more beautiful mares came into being.

Mrs Belle put a hoof on her husbands mouth with that look in her eyes again.

“And before you ask.” She said. “My mark is three cookie’s. Nothing special. Though my little girl had always adored my baking.”

She did actually not drop her pants to show the truth of that statement. Neither did twilight tell her to. Twilight was sure she was lost in some mad realm that was the result of breathing in the fumes of poison joke.

“So … You know nothing about your daughter? You cant even explain how she was able to run around with her leg blown off. Should she not be in insurmountable amount of pain?”” She said. More or less expecting to make them to expose the plothole in this joke.

Mrs Belle got a very serious look in her eyes.

“Well” She said. “She has... safety features. If the damage was indeed as severe as the two fillies said. Then it's possible that it triggered a fail-safe. Basically It will turn off her senses in the case of catastrophic damage.

Twilight just stared at them. That was a pretty convoluted explanation for two who had just claimed to be ordinary ponies. Mr Belle saw her confused look and elaborated.

”Understand twilight. She can feel everything like a normal little filly does. But only to a point.”

“We wanted our daughter to be normal. But we did not want her to suffer.” His wife said in a very final matter.

“But... How can a robot feel anything at all?”

Well...” Said Mrs belle “Her skin is connected to a series of sensors that registers everything the skin feels. And if she really got her skin burned off ... " She shivered at the thought, "Then the sensors would not be able to pick up anything."

“As for her emotions” Mr Belle took a deep breath. “From what little I do remember it was like … Well. Do you know that you can store energy inside a vessel ... A crystal for example. And do you know about emotional energy? The things that changelings feed on?”

Yes. Twilight did know of these things. She had experienced a few run-ins with the changelings to know about emotional energy. And she had witnesses artifacts filled to the brim with magic. (She was the carrier of one such artifact for Pete's sake)

"Well ... Basically we took this energy ... and we put in in a crystal" Mr Belle struggled with the words.

"And that became Sweetie's heart?" Twilight finished.

"Yes! thank you. I'm so glad you understand"

Twilight did not understand a single thing. She thought the straws of her tail was starting to curl up.

"However." Mr belle continued. Whatever joy he might have felt was quickly washed away by worry.

“...If this emotional energy is allowed to slip. If the heart deteriorates to far It might actually bleed out. Or simply cease to be.”

“And our daughter might become nothing more than a machine.” Said Mrs Belle with a shiver in her voice.

“Whats worse. We have no idea how to replace such energy. We don have the technology or the knowledge. In fact we don't even think its possible. The emotions in Sweetie are unique to her. Its what she has lived with her entire life. To replace someponys emotions would be like replacing their personality.

This was all to much for twilight to take at once.

"But ... I thought you said you where gonna replace it." She mumbled, and pointed at the rough crystal in Mrs Belles hooves.

"Not the energy!" Mr Belle howled "The thought was to transfer what is already left in the heart onto this new devise. before the old heart drive's integrity becomes compromised. "

“It was just a prototype." his wife continued "It was flawed. It wont last forever. And if it goes. We fear that all the things inside, all the emotional energy that makes her the lovable little mare she is, Might disappear... Our daughter might disappear!”

“So can you PLEASE let us out of here to look for our daughter!”

Twilight just nodded dumbfounded and opened the door. She could feel a few more straws of hair curling together and sprawled out of her mane and tail at the pure insanity of everything she had just heard.

It was not enough that they claimed one of the most lively little mares in the town was a mechanical construct. Now they also claimed that all her emotions came from some sort of battery that needed to be replaced.
And if that battery was allowed to run out, Sweetie would go from a living machine to a … regular machine.

A machine... It was all to absurd to believe. Living robot ponies where not suppose to exist.
The most mechanical ponies Twilight had ever seen was a few moving mannequins used in storefronts in by some clothing stores in Canterlot.

In an attempt to focus her thought she began to once again sort the pile of bags into a well organized pyramid.

True that there where ways to make an inanimate object appear alive. With magic one could make anything come to life. One could make a flower sing or a table dance. If one had the knowledge one could control any object Just like a Puppet-masters could make their dolls preform any manner of task.
She had read about one show pony , a summoner, who could create life like animations. Ponies of clay and wax so true to life that one could not tell the difference. He toured the nation to show of his skill and made them interact with the crowd by letting them talk to them all on its own.

But no matter how lifelike, they would never be sentient creatures. They wold always be soulless (for a lack of better word). To create life out of an inanimate object, was impossible.

Because in the end, an animated life-form would always be restricted to the instructions the creator had given them. And would only be able to preform whatever tasks the summoner had in mind at the time. Such a thing could never pass for a living thinking individual. Because they could not think. Try as one might to input as many instructions for its behavior as one could think of the doll would still fail to fool anypony. At least for any extended period of time. Because it was impossible to predict all the different things that could happen in life – such a simple thing as asking a question that the creator had not thought up an answer to would make the animated doll reveal itself. The unnatural nature of the animation would make everypony suspicious of it. (the show pony summoner had eventually been caught trying to sett up multiple bank accounts using his dolls. They where found out because the dolls failed to answer some of the bank clerks questions.)

The alternative was to take direct control of the puppet wit magic. With The puppet-master directly controlling the creations actions and speaking through its voice to make it sound more lifelike.
In extremer cases she had red of some puppet-masters that sat themselves into a hypnotic state to remote control the doll by projecting their own mind onto it.

But to actually make an artificial construct with a mind of it own, with feelings of its own was a thing of fantasy.
At best such a thing could be some form of sentinel. Like a gargoyle or set of armor made to guard ancient treasure in some Daring Do novel. Otherwise they would always be some form of puppet dancing under the puppet-masters mental strings.

Sweetie Belle had not appeared to be any puppet.

As if trying to prove everypony wrong. Twilight went to Sweeties room.

A most troubled sight awaited her in there. The window was smashed, allowing rain and cold to blow in. The bed was covered in mud and the carpet had been stained with something that upon closer inspection appeared to be some sort of oil.

Twilight allowed herself to magically repair the window and clean the room while simultaneously searching for any things that might be personal to Sweetie. If they really needed to find her fast, and without asking the locals for help, the a scrying spell was the best bet.
The spell would make any object pull towards its owner, like a piece of metal to a magnet.

It worked because a pony's touch would normally rub off on a personal item. Their aura would leave a mark on it. Sort of like a magical hoofprint. That could then be used to track that pony. The more personal the item the better. Preferably one that only they had touched. So no other sticky energy's could interfere with the spell.

On the middle of the floor she found a piece of discarded bandage. She reasoned that it must belong to Sweetie from the tale about how she had covered her damage. And there was blood on it. Perfect. Nothing could be more personal than blood.

But she got nothing. The Piece of cloth was empty to her magical scans. No magical aura must have rubbed of on in. It was like if Sweeties blood had no magic.

That thought chilled Twilight to the bone. All living things had auras. All ponies had magic in their blood. Why did not Sweetie? Was her very blood artificial? Did this mean she was truly not alive?

Desperate she searched the room for any other items. Toys, clothes, some piece of jewelry, anything that could belong to a little filly of Sweeties age found itself caught in Twilight's magic. She scanned each item carefully. In some cases finding only a small, and worse, old aura on them.

With a dreadful sensation already brewing in her mind she magically shrunk all these things down to pinhead size and put them inside a sphere of magic, then threw her spell over them. The response was week, but the combined collection of items made it strong enough to get a reaction. The items started to push up against the side of her magical sphere as they where pulling towards the owner of the touch upon them. With this magnet floating in front of her Twilight ran out into the rain.

She followed her compass several blocks until she heard the sound of Rarity calling out for Sweetie.
Realization already upon her she ran up to her friend, finding her standing unprotected in the ice cold rain.

"Twilight ... You got to help me find her." She stammered.

"I will" Twilight promised "but..."

She magically erected an aura to shield the rain above herself and her friend. At the same time she let her magical Sphere spin a few circles above Rarity. As she had feared, the items inside shifted position with the spheres movements - always pointing down towards Rarity.

"Rarity... Do you sometimes clean up Sweetie's room?"

***

In times when a foal gets lost there where certain procedures to follow. Look for your foal yourself. Check all the places they are known to play in. And if everything fails. Alert the authorities. Go to the police. Put up missing posters. Ask the locals for help, Organize a search party. Or several search party's. The more pony's who are looking the faster the one missing will be found.

The Belle's where gonna do none of that. They where gonna look for their daughter alone.

Twilight decided to stick with Rarity. Though the mare said little as they walked through the rainy streets of Ponyville.
They searched high and low throughout the town, and eventually managed to find all of the missing children. Some cowering in bushes or hiding in dust bins. The only thing they did not managed to find was Sweetie.

With the children they went to school to check if maybe Sweetie had come back for her forgotten stuff. But all they found was her Schoolbag, a dirty lunchbox, a belt, and a little purple and pink striped sock.
These items to remained useless to Twilight's spell.

It took a lot of convincing to get Rarity to go back home. She insisted on continuing the search. But both Twilight and her parents could see that the mare was on her last legs. She was exhausted. Both mentally and physically. she had apparently not even slept properly since the night before, but worked until she passed out under her own creations and continued working when Sweetie woke her up this morning.

Twilight eventually managed to convince her that Sweetie might have returned home. And that they both should go and check while her parents continued the search outside.

The walk home that evening was slow. Rarity wobbled like she was drunk and frequently leaned her head on Twilight's shoulder. Twilight could feel her trembling when she did.

Twilight's own head was spinning from the tale and she still could not believe half of what she had heard. That Sweetie was some sort of machine with organic skin pulled over. She had considered doing truth spells on all of them, but there stories matched together far to perfectly for it all to be coincidence.

Part of her still wished this was all a joke. But if it was. It was the most well collaborated, Trauma inducing, unfunny joke she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

During their walk she tried to ask Rarity a couple of questions, but receiving only vague nods and mumbling answers.

“They said they could not have foal. What did they mean?”

“I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!” Rarity exploded. Causing twilight to jump back.

Rarity hung her head in shame.

“I'm Sorry... I just... don't want to talk about it” She said with barely more than a whisper.

“Ok.” Twilight said, a bit shocked by the outburst.

She walked Rarity the rest of the way home. She repeatedly comforted her that Sweetie Belle had probably returned home by now. If not they where gonna look for her tomorrow, together.
But first she needed to make sure Rarity got a good nights sleep.

“I don't think I can sleep. Not knowing she is somewhere out there. Cold and alone!”

“Don't worry. I'm sure she has returned home by now. We'll walk to the Boutique now. We start looking there. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to restore some hope to her friend.
She even dared to hope herself that Sweetie had returned to the store. There wasn't much reason for her to go elsewhere. It was either home or to some of her friends. All children run away some time. But they always return home. At least so Twilight told herself.

As they approached the Boutique she saw that the door was open. She had been in a bit of a hurry out but the clearly remembered closing the door when she left.

“See? She is probably home already”

But the Boutique was eerie silent, and the closer they got the more Twilight got a feeling something was wrong.
Every window was dark. And she could not remember turning of the lights as she left.
There where hoofsteps of the doorstep. Big muddy hoofsteps clearly not those of any little filly.

"H ... Hello!"

No response greeted them as they stepped into the pitch black Boutique. Twilight magically fumbled for the light switch and managed to turn the light on.

Both mares gasped in horror.

The entire store had been vandalized. Every drawer and box had been pulled out open and its contents shuffled across the floor. Every roll of fabric had been pulled from their shelves. Every manikin had been tilted over, and the dresses on them had suffered for it. The mirrors in the dressing corner had been tilted and the podium had been flipped.

Yet the worst mess was in the middle. The Pyramid of bags, that Twilight so clearly remembered stacking, had been destroyed. Every bag had been turned inside out and the contents spread in every direction.

Twilight was so shocked that she dropped the magical sphere she had been holding in her magic. Every item in immediately Swelled up to its original size and only added to the chaos.

"Sweetie!?" Rarity pulled herself from twilight and Screamed "Sweetie! Tell me its you that have done this and I will forgive you!"

Twilight walked to examination the rubble. Why. Why would anypony have done this? She thought as she lifted one of the broken bags. She fought back the cloud of horror by attempting to rationalize. Whomever had been in here had been searching for something. And they had left no stone, or furniture, unturned. It must have been at least two ponies, judging from the number of hoofprints. And they must have been in a rush. They could only have had a small time window to search a place as big as this. But what where they searching for?

She only now remembered that the only bag Mrs Belle had not removed from her person was the purse containing the rough crystal. And she had taken it with her as she left the Boutique.
Only now did Twilight question where they gotten it from. Did it have something to do with this break in?

The words "Shady sources" appeared in her mind again. The feeling that the Belle's where running from something. She had not actually believed somepony was out to get them. But now...

Twilight could feel the cloud darkening in her mind as she picked up another bag.

A photo album fell out of it.

Curiosity peaked up like a ray of sunlight above the cloud. Particularly since it was an album of the Belle's possession. She picked it up and began examining it.

It was indeed an old family photo album. Dating back to the time where Rarity was just a little filly. Twilight quickly flipped through it and the loose pictures. She found that the album was missing a lot of photos. In fact there was not a single picture of the little wight and pink filly named Sweetie Belle to be found. Even counting the loose pictures there was at least half an album left empty. Particular the later half who dated to the time when Sweetie Belle should have entered the family. Somepony must have removed them in a hurry so great they had accidentally loosened some of the other photos. Was it the burglars? Why? What had those pictures actually shown?

Twilight began to sort through the loose stack of pictures. Finding nothing out of the ordinary she began to, with some level of respect, try and place the photos back into their respective places. She was just about to place the last picture into album when something about it caught her eye.

It was a simple family picture taken in front of a new house. It showed a younger happier stallion and his happier, very pregnant wife. Between the two of them was the unmistakable little Rarity. Beautiful already in her youth.

… Wait a minute!

Twilight could not help herself from letting out a dry, joyless laugh. This had to be a joke. It just had to be a joke. Because if her parents could not conceive then ...

“Rarity!”

Twilight held up the photo and pointed at Mrs Belle's swollen belly.

“Who is this!?”

Rarity looked at the photo and her eyes went wide. In a single blow all the sorrow and shock of a repressed memory came crashing down on her.

***

Little Rarity could not be happier. She had gotten her mark. She had made everypony in class the most beautiful dresses for the school play. She was the toast of the school. And she was gonna open up her very own boutique.

The cherry on top of her already creamy life was that she was gonna get a little sister. Her parents had left for the hospital earlier this day. Rarity was old enough to stay home alone yet not enough to be allowed into the natal clinic. Not that she cared. She got to make sure everything was in perfect order when they coma home. Cause when they did they where gonna have a most beautiful little foal wrapped in a bundle.

Rarity always imagined that little foals were warped in bundles when they came. That's how they where packaged when they where sent from Princess Celestia said those young enough to believe in that stuff. Rarity did not. She knew that her sister had been growing in her mothers stomach for the past months. and now it was time for her to come out. And when she did she was gonna need new clothes. Lots of clothes.

She was already sketching up designs of dresses for the infant when she heard the door bell ring. Signaling that her parents was home with the happiest of news.

She flew down the stairs, out in the hall and into her mothers bosom before she had even taken her coat off.

Her mother did not hug her back.

Then she noticed that mother wasn't smiling. The red eyes and the wet cheeks. She was trying not to cry in front of her child. But her whole body was trembling.
Father stood beside her, one hoof on his wife's shoulder to support her. He did a little better job at standing straight. But he had the same tear filled eyes as mother.

“Whats wrong?”

”Mother? Whats wrong?”

“Whats wrong?”

***

“Whats wrong?”

“Rarity! Whats wrong?!”

"Whats wrong?!"

Twilight stood above her friend. She had collapsed onto the floor at the sight of the photo. Her eyes had rolled back in her head so that only the whites where visible.
Rarity had always been a drama queen. But this was serious. She hadn’t fainted so much as she had gone into shock. She hadn’t even bothered summoning her fainting couch. She had just collapsed onto the floor in some kind of seizure.

Author's Note

Charcoal and Sulfur really are the main ingredients in gunpowder.

I originally wanted chapter 4 and 5 to be one and the same. But the idea's kept on piling up and i decided it was best to split them up. Still this one became a little to long.

Chapter 6: The Drowning Doll

Sweetie ran. In the general direction of away.

Nothing guided her steps except the general desire to get as far away from everything as possible. Far from the heartbreak. Far from those eyes.

She did not know where to go.
Yet some information she had acquired during classes in geography helped her run a process of elimination.

She could not go north. There lay Canterlot.
She could not go East. There lay the far to dangerous Everfree Forest.
She could not go south. There lay the Gnastly Groves. And beyond them the vast plains and deserts that stretched all the way to Appelossa and beyond.

Everywhere there was ponies. And where there was ponies, there would be eyes. Eyes that would look at her in that hurtful way. Ponies was something to be avoided. Getting away from Ponies meant to get away from their Cities and towns. Yet they where everywhere. Cities and towns dotted the map from corner to cornet. Ponies had taken over the world. Was there nowhere left untouched yet harmless enough not to pose a risk to her being?

Except maybe west?

She had little to no information of what laid west. Some forest perhaps. An area sparsely populated woods with little to no civilization in it. If she was to get far away from everything

West was the only option remaining.

So the body steered its course. On legs that moved on their own. leaning from side to side as it steered away from obstacles that her unseeing eyes registered.

Sweetie was like a passenger. Locked in her own mind. And her mind was a sea of chaos. Heartbreak and sorrow and confusion that had flooded her systems once again began to take a hold on her continuous as the feelings slowly returned. and these feelings drove her to make her body move even faster. Sweetie did not mind not having direct control. She wanted to be far, far away from everything. and this one trail of thought became the command which all other systems worked to support. The directive around which they pulled themselves together as she ran.

For how long she ran she did not know. She simply moved faster than she should be able to, in a speed she should not have been able to keep, further then her setting would allow her to. But the settings where currently overridden by the new directive and their restoration prioritized low on the streams of data that being sorted out.

Until eventually, the reboot was completed, and her settings caught up with her.

-:: System rebooted // !Warning! // Legwork and top speed // above set limit // Adjusting strain sequences accordingly // Raising heartbeat simulation // Adjusting breath intake // Strain and fatigue sequence commencing // Initiating lactic acid simulation sequence::-

Sweetie tripped and fell as a massive cramp ceased her legs. She laid in the grass, unable to stand, completely out of breath and could only wheeze for air as she had to clench her teeth against the pain. Her heart drummed so hard in her chest that it felt like it was drilling its way out of her.

For several minutes she laid there with aching legs. Even when the cramp ceased her legs where so sore they felt like wet spaghetti. She had to lean against a tree less her legs would give out from under her.

Just who programs a robot to feel such pain anyway?

WAIT! Did she just think of herself as a robot?

“No! Nonononono! Stupid thought! Get out of my head!”

Sweetie ran her head into the three she was leaning against. She tried to bang the stupid thought and the stupid voices out of her head. But doing so only caused her more pain.

She grabbed her acing forehead and sank down on her haunches, Leaning her back against the naked tree.

Why did she have these thoughts in her head!? Why did she have these voices in her head!?Who had put them there?
The most obvious answer was her family- Mom, dad, big sister.
They had made her after all. At least she thought they had. Or maybe they lied about that to?
They had, after all, lied about so much.
A part of her insisted that they had not lied. They had simply never said anything.
Well they had lied by never saying anything!

And if they had put these thoughts in her head – was that like programing?
Robots where suppose to be programed.
Was that why she thought she was a real filly? Because they had programed her to think that she was?

She banged her head against the tree again.

“I AM A REAL FILLY!” She screamed.

Then she looked down on her leg. And started to cry.

There it was. The undeniable evidence. The metallic leg sticking out from a thin layer of skin. Two broken wires where sticking out from between the synthetic muscles, almost up at the joint at the knee. And dangles uselessly all the way down to her fetlock. She did not know what purpose they served. The leg seemed to move and bend just fine despite the broken wires. Yet that did not ease the fact that she should not have wires, or metal for that matter, in her body.

To save herself from seeing it she pulled a sock of her back legs and put it over her foreleg. That way both her forelegs looked symmetrical at least.

Her socks had started to fall apart at the seams. They where becoming soggy and brown with mud.
Improvised socks did not good hoof wear make.

-:: !Warning! // Moist detected // Air temperature bellow comfort settings // Body temperature dropping // Initiating shivering sequence // Initiating sneezing sequence … ::-

Sweetie felt an itch in her nose. Something tickled inside it. Ans she sneezed. A booger hung from her nostril and in a moment of unthinking she rubbed her right foreleg across her muzzle. Only then did she notice how cold her leg was against her skin. And she saw that she had wiped herself on her metallic leg. She let out a dry laugh. Both at the fact that her nose could produce boogers. And at that her exposed mechanics had just been greased by it.

Could she even get sick? Or was that just some form of simulated sequence? Just who programs a robot to get sick and sneeze boogers?

She rammed her head into the tree again.

Sick or not it was cold out here. And she was only getting wetter the longer she sat here. The tree above her had no leaves and the rain was pouring down on her as malice as ever.

She rubbed her little hooves tight around her body. Wherever she had to go she had to go somewhere. She could not just sit here.

But where should she go? The first thought that popped into her mind was home.

But she had no idea where home was. All around her where just trees trees trees in every direction. If there had been hoofprints they had been washed away by the rain.
She span in circles until she got dizzy.

She tried to recall what had transpired. But it was a broken, sprawling mess. As distant and unreal as a dream. Except it was more akin to a nightmare. She remembered a moment when she didn't feel anything at all. She looked at rarity and she felt nothing! NOTHING!
It was a feeling she could not describe, for it was not a feeling at all. It was a hole. An emptiness where a feeling should have been.

That emptiness seemed almost preferable to the horror that had befallen her. Not just the mechanical nature of her being. But the way everypony had acted towards it.
Everypony acted like they no longer knew her. Like she was some total stranger.
They all hated her. Scootaloo blamed her for stealing her family. She hated her because she was a robot. All the children had wanted to destroy her. And Rarity had hit her.

Her heart almost stopped at the recalling. Had Rarity really hit her? She tried to Remember. Tried to focus, but everything was to blurry to make out. All she knew was that there was a moment when she had sought comfort and embrace. And Rarity had not provided that.

Why. Why had she done that. Why had anypony acted the way they did?

Because... Because she wasn't Sweetie any more. Because she was not the Sweetie they knew.
In a horrible way she could relate. Because she wasn't the Sweetie she was suppose to be.
She didn't feel like herself any more. She didn't know who she was any more What she was anymore. Was she a Pony? A robot? A bloodbot?

Images returned to that horrible movie she had seen.
Was she really a bloodbot – sent as a sleeper agent. Did that mean all her memories where false?
Was there a real Sweetie Belle somewhere out there? Somewhere cold and alone. Abducted and replaced? Should she go find her? And bring her back?
It felt like the right thing to do.

But then what? If she returned the real Sweetie home. Then she would still be just a robot replica. She would never have a real family.

Well if she could not have them. Then some other Sweetie could neither!
But... wouldn't that be like wishing death upon yourself?

These thought where making her head spin. She decided to dismiss them.
Maybe there wasn't any other Sweetie out there.
But if there was no Sweetie, who was she?
Scootaloo's words rang in her ears. That she was just a “perfect” little replica of a filly bought by her rich parents, instead of adopting. A home stealer. A bot.

Why? Why was she a bot? Had her parents made her this way? why had they made her a bot? Just how was little fillies made anyway. Somehow she just knew they were not made like her. Little fillies had blood and bones and other disgusting stuff inside them. Why hadn't she? And why did that matter?

All these things inside her did not change who she was. yet everypony acted like she was no longer the same.
Maybe she wasn't. She sure didn't feel the same anymore. And how could she know herself if she did not know what she was?

Whomever she was, she wasn't Sweetie Belle any more.

Sweetie Belle was loved. Sweetie Belle had a home. A Family. Sweetie Belle was a real pony.
All that already seemed like another life. Somepony else life. Maybe because it maybe was.

Cause whomever she was, she was not Sweetie Bell. She was not loved. She was hated. She had no home. No family. None that was real anyway. She wondered briefly if this was how adopted foals felt when they found out their family was not their real family (that was how it worked right?). At least adopted foals where real Ponies. She was not a real pony. She was something that had stolen the place of a real pony. Whether that was the place of the real Sweetie Belle or of some other adopted pony she did not know. She just know that she wasn't suppose to be there. How could she? When no pony else wanted her there?

She wanted to go back. She wanted to go home. But she could not.
She could not go back to those meany beans. She could not go back to a place where everypony hated her. She would not go back so they could look that way at her again. So they could hit her again and call her names and other things.

She sneezed again. She shivered and was only getting colder the longer she sat here. She had get up. Had to keep moving. Had to keep warm.

The number one survival guide that they had learned in the school field-trips and scout core was that if you get lost - Do not walk I circles. Pick a direction and walk in in. And so she did.
Actually the survival guide said stay in one place, build a shelter and wait for rescue.
But why would anypony rescue her? Everypony hated her and would probably have run her out of town with pitchforks and torches if she had not left first.
Besides, if she stayed then she would freeze to death.
That is, if robots even could freeze to death?

"SHUT UP!" She screamed at herself.

Not wanting to think any more about it. She picked a direction and started walking. Walked in the direction that felt like it led away from Ponyville. Away from those meany beans. She did not know where she was going. She did not know what she was. Or where she belonged.

She only knew one thing for sure. This was going to be the worst Hearth's Warming Eve ever.

***

Sweetie walked for what seemed like an eternity. But the forest was without end. She did not even know what she would do once she was out of the woods

She knew that If she did not have a home. She wanted to find a new home. Somewhere where no pony knew who she was. Where nopony knew her secret. Where no pony would judge her. But finding such a place proved difficult as the woods was without end. The rain was a constant companion. And the further she walked the colder and hungrier she got.

Cold and hunger made her regrets her previous thoughts. She wanted to get back home. Maybe everything would not be so bad after all. Maybe Scootaloo had not meant the the things she said? Maybe Rarity had not hit that hard? Maybe she had just been scared and covered her face? And Sweetie herself jumped right into her elbows?

Homesickness began to cease her heart. But she was completely lost, and could not find her way back.
Sticking true to her scout rule she kept moving. She had to find somepony who could show her the way home. Somepony who could shelter her. Somepony who could just get her some food and rest. Anything would be better than these endless bare trees.

Her stomach growled. And quite painfully so.
When was the last time she had eaten? It must have been at breakfast, when these voices fist started apearing in her head. Had she really not eaten anything else for a whole day? Or was that two days? It sure felt like it. She could not tell how many days or nights had passed. There was no moon nor sun in the sky. She thought about the overstuffed lunchbox she had brought to school. All the food inside that she never got to eat.

What if she never got to eat again? Would she never enjoy another full course meal? Would she never go to another restaurant? Would she never have another picnic? Never another Ice cream? Or candy?
Would she never get to taste mothers heavenly chocolate cookies again?
The thought made her almost faint.

But If she was a robot? did that mean she did not actually have to eat? They why did it hurt so much to starve. Who programs a robot to starve?

She wanted to hit herself again. But did not have the strength. Walking was becoming hard. Her socks where heavy from rain and mud. her vision was blurred by strands of her pink mane hanging down in her eyes. Her tail was beginning to drag in the dirt behind her. Rarity had always taught her to maintain her curly hair and she thought she looked quite cute in them. But now the curls were washed out to their full length and becoming quite the bother.

-:: Logic solution :: Cut them off ::-

What if she really where doomed to walk around this forest for her entire life. what if she never saw another living soul again? Would she never see her friends of family again? Would she never have any friends or family at all? Would she ever get to celebrate Hearts Warming Eve ever again?

She almost fainted again. Was it from sadness or enervation? Maybe both. The hunger and cold made it hard to think. The only things they where good for was keeping her awake. There was simply no possible way she could fall asleep in these conditions. Yet that was exactly what she wanted to do.

She wanted to just lay down and rest. She had never been so tired in her entire life. Never been so hungry in her life. Never, ever been so utterly lonely. Why. Why was this happening to her?!
She wanted something to eat. Someplace to get out of the cold and sweet Celestia she wanted somepony to hug her!

It was then she heard voices. Voices of ponies. At first she thought she might just be imagine things. that she was so tired and hungry she had started to hallucinate. But the voices remained.

That ignited a small spark of hope in her, and gave her energy to start running in the direction of the voices.
Perhaps they could show her out of these cursed woods. Perhaps they could share something to eat. Hopefully they knew of somewhere she would rest and dry herself. Maybe they would even be her new best friends and family.

***

She followed the sound of the voices and eventually came out of the woods and out on a small plateau. A rocky edge marking a sudden drop down into a running river. A small cliff leaning out a few meters above the water.

From there she was able to see the source of the voices. A bit up the river was an area illuminated by lanterns. in the light she was able to make out the shapes of two ponies, one big and one small. standing atop what looked like some sort of ravens nest. A big wall of wood that covered the width of the river. It looked almost like the sort of dam that beavers would build. But without the density, since water was leaking through in so many places that it looked like the dam was crying with a hundred eyes. Crying over its own pitiful existence. And the tears that flowed from its face, along with the rain that washed over it, made the river below still appear wide and deep enough to swallow a pony.

From the distance she could only see the silhouettes of the two ponies. A big broad pony she guessed was a stallion, and a small one barely more than a colt. Maybe an older and a younger sibling. Or perhaps even a father and a son. They where standing in the middle of the big pile of sticks and logs, facing each other like they where talking about something. Over the sound of the river and the rain she could not make out what they said. But it looked like they where inspecting the dam (If it could be called that).

In the middle of it was some sort of a big wooden wheel. The smaller pony pulled some sort of lever up on the dam and a port opened at the top. Making water pour through that sent the wheel spinning, faster and faster. The whole area suddenly lit up even brighter as a dozen more lights sparkled into existence and a small electronic hum was added to the air. The small pony jumped around in joy and the bigger pony laughed so loud Sweetie could hear his deep base tone all the way to where she was standing.

However. A loud crack filled the air as the dam suddenly ruptured. Water was pouring out through the port with higher and higher pressure, sending the well spinning so fast it was becoming a blur in Sweetie's eyes. The speed of the wheel began to shake the whole dam. More and more holes opened up shooting streams of water so hard that it took pieces of the dam with it. The two ponies on top of it turned to run in opposite directions when half of the dam suddenly gave in to the rivers unrelenting pressure and collapsed. The half the smaller pony was standing on.

Sweetie watched, frozen in horror as the tidal wave poured through, and took half the dam with it. She felt the cliff she was standing on shake as the water-masses hit its foundation.

And on top of it all was that little pony. Sweetie saw him fall as the dam disappeared under him. Saw him get carried away by a river that suddenly became twice as deep, three times as wild and filled with sticks and logs the size of three trunks. saw him tumbling past below her screaming at the top of his lungs for help.

You can not save him

That was the first thought that went through Sweeties mind. All of the voices agreed with this conclusion. That she would only jeopardize herself in a reckless rescue act. That her ability’s as a filly where insufficient to save his life. Except her heart.
Her heart-drive sang a different tune. A craving to save somepony so desperately in need. Just as sure as her mind calculated her own demise in that river it also confirmed his. That little colt was gonna die if she did not do something. And every part of her mind agreed that there was nopony around in any position to save that colt but her.

Her brain told her that the odds were against her. Her heart told her to screw the odds.

Sweetie jumped.

She got a shock as she broke the surface. The water was freezing cold and the current much stronger then she expected. To top it of it was filled with logs and debris from the broken dam who shoved and jostled her around with ruthless force. She was flushed down the worlds deadliest waterslide. A waterslide filled with More and more debris as more and more pieces broke loose from the makeshift dam and threw their weight into the water like battering rams.

She tried to swim but the giant logs and waves kept trowing her around. Whirlpools spun her around and the river turned left and right. She had lost sight of the colt and her only source of his whereabouts where his constant shouting.

“Pa! PAAAAA! HELP!”

“Hang on my boy! I'm coming”

The words of the older stallion echoed through the trees, but there already becoming distant. Sweetie could barely hear it over the roar of the river. She tried to shout her own words of encouragement. But was hit in the head with a log that knocked all air out of her.

Sweetie started tumbling around from the force and ended up under water. She had not even been able to take a breath before going down and her exhausted lungs where instantly screaming for more air.

Sweetie managed get her head above water and took a huge gasp of air. Her head was hurting from the cold and her hooves where beginning to feel numb. In her head some system kept screaming that her skin was suffering severe cooling, that she had to prioritize her own safety. But she still looked for the colt. She saw him further down the river. Not to far from herself. He struggled to climb upon a log as it rolled in the water. All the while he was screaming.

“Pa! PA!”

Then another log came and struck him in the side. It almost looked like he had been crushed between the two logs of timber. A second later Sweetie got hit in the back of the head herself. She went underwater again. Tumbling round and round while grabbing her acing head. It felt like her neck was gonna spit open. She had not seen what hit her but it must have been another log.

She managed to resurface for a sort while. And her ears where met with nothing but the roar of the river. The colt wasn't screaming any more.

A huge crash suddenly echoed over the river, followed by loud rapid splashing. Sweetie turned around and saw to her horror that the waterwheel had torn itself from the dam and now came rolling down the river, pushing all the logs out of its way and crunching whatever smaller debris remained beneath its rudders. Sweetie tried to swim out of its way but the bogs where blocking her way. Closing her in this narrow corridor with the giant wheel approaching fast. Panicking she paddled her little hooves for all they where wort. Trying to stay ahead of the crushing wheel of death. But the sound of the splashes that it made only got closer, until it was right on top of her.

Sweetie got caught on one of its rudders and pushed to the bottom of the river. The rudder pinned her to the bottom. The sludge and sand was loose and slid away as she was pushed into it. but that mattered little as it pushed all the air out of her as it rolled over her.

Sweetie coughed, but only ended up with a mouthful of water. She pulled bout hooves over her mouth and managed to just prevent pulling the foul water into her lungs. Instead she swallowed it, and had to keep her hooves pinned over her lips not to open her mouth and breathe underwater. She was all out of air. Desperately she started flaying her legs around to get to the surface. She managed to kick her way out of the sludgy bottom. But the surface was blocked by logs.

Like a stim of wild fish fleeing a large predator the river was filling up with debris. From smaller sticks to bigger logs and leaves, and it all tumbled over each other as it poured down the river. Piled together, on top of each other so that they formed a barrier between her and the air she so desperately needed.

Her lungs started to burn and she almost sucked in water as the need to breathe became overwhelming. Her desperate wailing's got her nowhere and she her mind became dizzy. Unable to focus on anything other than the fact that she needed air. Her strokes lost any form of swimming graze and just became fruitless wailing.

But the wall of logs above her had no end. It remained over her as it flowed flowed down the violent river. She could not swim past it. She tried to push through them. But every time they just knocked her back down into the lower current.

Her lungs felt like they where collapsing. She clutched her eyes shut, and wailed harder. But her strokes only made her weaker. And the need to breathe stronger.

-:: !Warning! // Oxygen levels dropping // Oxygen deprive sequence running // Breathe command recommended // !Error! // Command Aborted // Contradiction :: under water // !Warning! // Strain on lung nerve clusters increasing // Pain threshold approaching ::-

Her lungs felt like they where beginning to knot together. Harder and harder. The pain was becoming unbearable and she knew she was gonna break inside.

It was then that one of the logs got knocked into the lower current. It hit her right in the gut and pinned her to the bottom again. Sweetie opened her mouth to scream. And her vision was filled with bubbles as the last of her air escaped her breath. And as she did she could no longer resist the urge to pull a huge desperate gasp.

Water ruched into her both and down into her lungs. The act that should have made the knots in her chest release only made them worse. Her lungs knotted so hard they felt like they where gonna tear themselves apart.

-:: !Warning! // Water in airpump // Oxygen levels :: Zero // Nerve clusters reaching maximum settings // Pain threshold breached // Safety setting breached // Safety setting override initiated // Turning off lung Nerve clusters // Turning of airpump sensors // Turning off airpump // Breathing sequence in stand by mode // Speech-breath sync disabled ::-

In a flash, The pain was gone. As was the need to breathe, And even the horrible feeling of water in her lungs. For a few seconds Sweetie just remained on the bottom of the river, feeling the Pain becoming but a distant memory, wondering if she was dead.

No. She was not dead. She could still feel the Ice cold water around her, hear the rush of the river in her ears and the pressure of the log in her gut. But it was not as overwhelming as the ace in her lungs had been. By comparison it was almost nothing. Contradictory - the stinging feeling of frozen water helped her mind clear. She was able to focus once again. Focus on removing the log that pinned her down.

She put all four hooves on the log and pushed. It gave way with little resistance and continued down the river. As it passed over her, Sweetie grabbed a hold around a branch remaining on its rear and let it drag her out of the sludgy bottom.

Her mind returned to the colt-in-distress. She realized she had lost much distance to him. And she had to catch up fast. She let go of the log and swam up to the wall of logs floating above. No longer interested in breaking through them. Instead she grabbed whatever branches and sticks remained on the logs and started pulling herself downstream – so fast that she was practically running up-side-down.

She peered under water for anything that could look like a colt flaying around. A pair of legs kicking against the stream. A tail. Or even a back. Any form of motion.

Finally the logs started to thin out.
It was then that she recognized the shape of a pony. She almost missed it due to his color scheme. A brown body with green hair easily blending in with the trunks of trees surrounding them. And to her fears it was not kicking around. It was motionless. Slowly sinking. Back towards the bottom of the river and legs hooves helplessly dangling above.

Sweetie let go of the log and threw herself across the water. She managed to collide with the colt and grabbed him with both forelegs. She began kicking her rear legs and managed to get bout her and the colts head above water.

Next step. She had to get them both out of the water. But the strong current and the logs around them would not let them reach the rivers edge. The river had them in a strong grip and would not let go. Desperately she looked ahead of her and saw the big waterwheel. Still standing upright and rolling down the river.

She started swimming for it. Kicking her back legs while still pressing the colt against her chest. He was getting slippery and threatened to slide out of her hooves. Sweetie summoned all her strength and managed to reach the waterwheel. She thought about all the times she had gotten into trouble with the CMC and only managed to escape by the grit of her teeth. She needed that strength now. The strength of a crusader.

She reaffirmed her grip around the colt with one hoof, and with the other she grabbed a rudder on the waterwheel.

“CMC rescue rangers.” She muttered between her teeth as the rudder rose and carried them both up the waterwheel. She almost lost her grip on the slippery rudder. But the round wheel flattened out the higher she got, until she was lying on her stomach on the very top of the wheel.

No time to rest though. As the ride down the wheel had already begun. Sweetie got up and quickly pulled the colt up on her back. From here she had a clear sight of the rivers edge. And just as the waterwheel hit another turn in the river – Sweetie jumped.

“YAAAAAAAAY!”

Her fall might have been somewhat softened by the muddy, slippery ground. Sweetie tumbled around and should have gotten all the air knocked out of her, Except she had no air in her lungs. Instead only water flowed out of her mouth.

Every part of her body felt sore. Her legs where like wet noodles. She was soaked, cold and exhausted, and should have needed go gasp, cough and pant for air. She should have needed to catch her breath.

But there was nothing. No heavy gasps escaped her lips. The need to breathe was completely washed away. She could only lie with her mouth wide open, and not breathe. She could only listen to her heart beating a drum-solo in her ears, and feel the rain falling on her. She almost had not notice that she had left the water as the rain above it was just as hard and cold.

A lot of unwanted thoughts began to creep uninvited into her mind.
What if she was never able to breathe again? Did that mean she was dead? Or dying? A pony should not be able to live without breath. They needed it to live, and talk, and scream. Come to think of it - had she not screamed as she jumped from the waterwheel? How could she speak if she had no breath? And speaking of breath - there was somepony else who's breathing she needed to be concerned about.

“Hey ... Are you okay?” She asked, trying not to think about how she was able to do that. Her mouth moved. Her lips formed the words. There was just no breath pushing them out.

She turned to look at where the colt had fallen. His brown body was almost indistinguishable from he mud he was covered in. He did not answer her. He wasn't even moving.

She got up on sour legs and walked over to him. She flipped him over and began shaking him.

“Hello? Hello? Are you alive?”

No response. Fear for his life once again filled her. Sweetie put her ear to his chest, as Cheerilee had once taught them to do during life saving class, and listened for a heartbeat. And luckily she found one. She moved her ear over to the colts mouth and listened for any sigh of breathing. But she found none.

Cheerilee had said that if some pony isn't breathing you have to give them artificial respiration. You had to blow your own breath into their lungs like you blow it into a balloon. Or else they could die. Sweetie did not want him to die. She had to give him the mouth to mouth method. But how? Here lungs where standing still. She had no breath!

No! It could not end this way. Not now. Not after she had struggled so hard to save him. She did not care if she could not breathe. She still had lungs and she was gonna use them! She forced herself to open her mouth and suck air down into her lungs.

Her water filled lungs.

-:: Expel foreign fluid ::-

She breathed out, and a lot of water poured out of her mouth. She puked it all up over the colt, drowsing him like she was a hose. She had to turn her mouth away less she would drown him a second time.

Finally the water was out of her and the could begin the mouth to mouth. It was the weirdest thing ever. Not only to have a colts cold blue lips against hers. But that she felt nothing breathing in or out. Normally one feels the lungs stretch with deep breaths. Feels the chest rise and sink. Sweetie felt nothing. She had to force the breath in and out. The only way she knew she was getting any air into the colts lungs was by looking at his chest.

She removed her mouth to take another breath when the colt, in turn, puked water on her. As his chest sank a lot of nasty river-water was expelled from his lungs. He started coughing and spat it all up in Sweeties face. Sweetie was so taken aback that she jumped away from him.

She sat still in the rain and just watched the colt rasp and struggle for breath. At least he was alive.
She wanted to release a sigh of relief. But none came.

That made the unwanted thoughts come back into her head. She had drowned. But did not die nor loose consciousness. Instead she had just lost some fundamental part of herself.
Another fundamental part of herself, she thought as she looked down on her leg.

By some miracle the socks where still attached to her. The fabric had shrunken and tightened its grip to her fur. Apparently it did not go well with water.
And neither did her lungs, she though. If she even had lungs. If she didn't. Then what purpose did her breath serve? why did she even need to breathe? Who programs a robot to breathe under water anyway?

Wait! Was she thinking of herself as a robot again? Stupid thoughts. Out of my head! She thought as she started knocking herself on the side of her head.

“Water in ya ears?”

Sweetie looked down. The colt was smiling back up at her.

“That used to be the worst I knew. But I think water in your lungs is worse.”

“Tell me about it.” Sweetie said.

The tramping of heavy hooves drowned out the sound of the river. Sweetie almost thought a Stampede was heading for them. But it was only a single stallion. The forest shook as he came galloping out of the woods.

“MY BOY! MY BOY!” He bellowed like a bear.

He skittered to a halt in the slippery mud as he saw the two of them sitting there.

“OH THANK YA! YA SAVED MY BOY!”

Only now did Sweetie see how big he really was. He must have been the size of Big Mac. He shared the same colors as the colt. brown body with green hair.

The colt rolled over and puked up more water. The stallion took him ever so gently in his big hooves and hurled him over his shoulder. Carefully patting his back as he puked up the last of the river-water over his back.

”I'm sorry Pa. I couldn’t build a dam wall as good as you.”

”There ain't nothing wrong with trying to follow in your old mans hoof-steps son.” The stallion said, lowering his voice to something resembling normal Speech “If anything is my fault. I let my pride get in the way and i let you build that wall all by your own. I never should have done that.”

He turned his attention to Sweetie.

“Thank ya young miss. You saved my boy.” He said.

Even when speaking normally there was a rumble to his voice. But even so he spoke with a tone of utmost joy.

***

The older stallion carried both of the young, exhausted fillies on his broad back as he walked back up the river. Towards the origin point of the disaster and towards a home that he assured was not far from there. Home where he assures a hot meal and warm bed waited for Sweetie. It was the least he could to for the brave little mare whom had just saved his son. Sweetie could once again hear her belly rumble at the mere thought of food. And she was so tired she could faint dead away. Not to mention so wet and cold she was shivering.

She wrapped her sock-covered forelegs tight around her little body under the pretend of warming herself. But more importantly to ensure that her secret stayed covered. Fear of revealing that secret had almost made her shy away from the strangers. But the promise of a place out of the rain was enough to make her go unquestioningly with them. The ride being offered was also very nice for her acing legs. And again, the least the elder stallion could offer. As he kept reminding her.
The colt, who sat beside her, continued to cough for some length of the journey, before regaining his ability to speak and introduce himself.

“I'm Tree Branch. But you can call me Branch.”

He extended a hoof to his savior. Sweetie hesitated for a moment, unsure about shaking it with rain soaked and muddy socks that covered her forelegs and secret. Before carefully stretching out her left, nonmetallic hoof.

“And I'm Tree Trunk by the way.” The older stallion rumbled, only now realizing that he had, in his gratitude, yet to say that “But some call me Beaver.”

The colt leaned in and whispered.

“Don't tell him this, but he is also called Trunks” he giggled.

“Why do they call you Beaver?” Sweetie asked.

“Because” Said Branch “He can bring down trees as fast as any of those little buggers. He don't even need an ax I tell ya. He just kicks them down and drags them off to the river. He can chop the branches of the wood with his bare hooves I tell ya. And then he uses the timber to make all sorts of things...”

Sweetie looked down to the side of Mr Tree Trunk. His mark was, true to his mane, a big round log.
Sweetie thought he certainly looked like a lumberjack with his broad form and beard and all. She suspected that he got his physique from many years of carrying logs as big as his son made the out to be.

“Now, now boy. Don't you brag to much about your old man to the little lady” Mr Trunk rumbled. “If you wanna impress her, why don't you tell her a little about your own accomplishments ”

He trailed of and blushed a little.

“Well ... I was just gonna say that nowdays we just use the timber to build dams. He is really good at building dams that stops the river from running to fast. That's why they call him beaver. I was gonna follow in his hoofsteps but...”

He looked down on his flank. There was no mark upon it. Sweetie recognized that look anywhere. The look of a young pony trying to get their mark. That dam had not just been his attempt to impress his father or pull his weight for the family. He had been trying to find his talent, But his attempts had backfired and failed so spectacularly it nearly cost him his life.

Sweetie could relate. So many times she and her friends had pulled the craziest stunts to find something they where good at. And every attempt had gone haywire, failed, blown up and backfired in their faces (and in some cases caused massive property damage). Yet her flank remained bare. And would perhaps remain so forever. Their last failure had not just blown up in their faces. But blown apart her world. Cold sadness washed over her again, colder than the rain. She had lost everything in that blast. Her friends, her family, Even her future mark.

Sweetie just barely managed to avoid shaking her head. She could not think about that now. And she didn't want others to think something was wrong with her. She didn't want them to think she was … different.

-:: To deflect questions :: Ask first ::-

“And why do they call you Branch?”

”Well. Ma and Pa said it looked like a little leaf on a branch. So that became my name.”

True that. Unlike his father he was a rather slim little earth pony. He shared the same brown body color as his dad, but his mane and tail where a wild green similar to leaves in the spring. Which meant that when he was sitting on his father he looked a little like a branch growing out of the older stallion.

“Whats your name little miss?”

Sweetie diverted her eyes. What should she say? She didn't even know if she had a real name any more.

“Sweetie” She said. “Just ... Sweetie.”

“Well, Ya certainly are a sweet little thing.” Said Branch

“Indeed” Rumbled his father. “You saved my boy and all. That was a really sweet thing to do”

Despite the cold and the rain, Sweetie could feel her cheeks getting hotter.

-:: … Blushing sequence … ::-

Shut up!

“Okay.” Branch and Beaver said with one voice. Sweetie grabbed her mouth and started blushing even harder. Embarrassed that she had said that out loud.

***

Finally Mr Beaver had trotted all the way back to where the dam had failed. Some lanterns still illuminated the area. The river seemed a bit calmer now that it was allowed to flow freely and not filled with logs.
He made quick strides past the remains and ended up on a small path leading away from the river. It was illuminated by a row of lanterns hanging from a long cable that hung from the trees. The cables end was now dangling uselessly down by the remains of the dam. The other stretched from the river and into a small cabin. It would have been hard to spot in the rainy night since it laid dark and blackened.

When Sweetie asked what the cable was for Branch happily shared in his knowledge. Perhaps eager to prove he was goof for something.

“Well ya see. This here is the power line. We where gonna use that dam for electricity. It had a big wheel in it it that spins when the water pours through. And then that wheel spins it makes the turbine spin. Which powers up the generator. Which gives us electricity.” He sighed “Without it I guess its gonna be a dark winter.”

“Now, now my boy. Lets not think about that. Nothing is gonna brighten up this winter more than the fact that you are sill with me. Thank you again for that little miss.”

Inside the cabin waited a bowl of warm soup and a whole lot of blankets for the two young ponies to dry themselves on. Sweetie was quick to wrap herself in blankets till she was wearing them like a bushy dress, to hide the fact she refused to take of her socks. And she was even quicker to down the whole bowl of soup. So happy she was to finally get something in her empty belly that she did not even care that the "taste sensors" Analyzed and identified it as Bullion in the back of her head.

There had been two bolls smoldering on the table. One for the father and one for the son, Sweetie suspected. They had probably left the food out to go and activate the wheel in the dam and then return to a brightly lit house with food waiting for them. Looking around Sweetie could see a lot of electrical lights sharing the roof with more conventional lanterns. Unfortunately all of them remained black.

Mr Beaver was more than happy to give his bowl to Sweetie. It was clear (though he did not say it) that if it had not been for her there was the possibility he would have been coming home to two fresh soups and nopony to share them with.

While the younger ponies ate he walked around and started lighting up the lanterns. When he was done the house was quite basking in a dancing light. In it Sweetie could see that idyllic little cabin had quite the idyllic little holiday Preparation. The decoration was sparse. But everything was there.
A tree with a few presents under. A green wreath hanging like a chandelier from the center of the ceiling with a few ribbons stretching out to the walls. And the windows decorated with a few candlesticks and holiday themed curtains.

All you needed for a wonderful Hearts Warming Eve.

"Again. I cant thank ya enough for saving my boy, little miss." Beaver said as he lit a fire in the tiled stove "I would have been all alone if I had lost him to. He's all I have left since his ma ran away.”

"What?" said Sweetie as she put the empty bowl down. "What kind of mother would do that?"

"Ma's not the only one who left." Said Branch in a somber tone. "Everypony's left. This used to be a big Woodcutter field. There is a big sawmill not far from here. The mill still stands, but its unmanned now.

"What happened?"

Mr Beaver looked out the window.

"Our family have owned that sawmill for generations. We actually used to transport the logs by the river.
But today the waterwheels that drove the bud-saws stand still."

It was many years ago, Just after Branch was born. A time when I thought my life could only go uphill. But that was also when things started happening in the forest. Now I don't want you to think it had anything to do with my boy. There were enough superstition thrown around by ponies just looking for an excuse."

He looked at Sweetie, very meaningly as he said it. As if accusing her of jumping to the conclusion he just mentioned.

"Why would anypony blame him?" She asked "Why would they need an excuse?"

Mr Beaver sighed apologetically, and looked back out the window.

"The forest has always been a mystical and dangerous place. Nopony knows exactly what might be lurking behind the next tree. We who work in it every day knows that better than anypony.

There came talk of strange creatures sighted in the woods. Some said the forest was haunted. That strange creatures lived there. At first I thought it was all just superstitious nonsense. But then ponies started coming back injured, or just went missing altogether, sometimes for days before popping up in some distant parts of the woods, saying that they had been chased. They where all saying that something had jumped at them from the shadows. and the rumors about the forest being haunted started growing with every incident."

He sighed. And looked back at Sweetie.

”Can you imagine what that's like? Living next to a haunted forest.”

Actually, she could. And she was not all that impressed by Mr logs little campfire ghost story. Just a few days ago she had walked through way scarier and far more dangerous woods and been attacked by wolves.

“Was it Wolves?” She asked half disbelievingly “Timberwolves?”

“Oh, i wish it was as simple as Timberwolves little miss. But those woodcutters that came back told of signs of ponies that sprung up from the ground itself.

“Zombies don't exist Pa” said Branch.

“I know my boy. But The Woodcutters saw what they saw, and would not take it back. In fact it only got worse. Some began to speak of armored ponies spotted in the woods clad hoof to head in metal. Like some invasion was about to take place. But not of a foreign pony tribe a tell ya. Some said they where metal ponies. As cold and hard on the inside as they where on the outside.

At this Sweeties ears peaked.

"Oh yes. Some even said it was armor cold and empty. Possessed by evil spirits that had came to haunt us. Others said they where in fact living machines walking around and attacking. Some even claimed them to be aliens

“Aliens?” Sweetie stammered. Now she was actually getting afraid. She had not considered the option of that she might be an alien. And metal ponies in the woods? Where there others like her?
Where robot ponies something that lived in secret tribes. Had she come from them? How had she ended up With her family? Was she an alien planted there to infiltrate ans survey? Was she some alien orphan of mechanical lifeforms that had fallen from the sky?

"Those seeking for a reasonable explanation for the attacks said it was lunatics that had escaped from the madhouse that lies somewhere in these parts. And let me tell you that did not help. It only added to the superstition. Ponies where getting afraid there where gonna get jumped by some lunatic. Others said that it was crazy woods-ponies that where protecting their land. Maybe donning some ancient armor of their forefathers and summoning their ancestors to rise from their graves. Others simply said that it was that woods themselves sending spirit to haunt us in form of possesses armor and the very earth taking on our image to repel us for our greed. for we had cut to deeply into mother nature and she was coming to repay the debt!"

“¨Come on pa." Said branch in a dismissive manner "This isn't a campfire story-time.”

Mr Beaver cleared his throat, realizing he had taken on a very somber ghost-storytelling tone.

"Regardless, ponies started leaving the mill. Nopony wanted to risk their lives there. And when nopony dared to go into the woods to lumber – no lumber came to the mill. So Nothing was getting made - And business started to go downhill."

Branch continued.

"Eventually it was only me and Pa left. We tried to keep the mill running. But without horsepower we couldn't do it anymore. And then Ma left too."

His eyes met Sweeties. And he straightened out.

“But you don't need to hear any of this.”

He put a hoof around Sweetie and began escorting her into the rest of the cabin.

"Come on. I'll show you the rest of the place. Its not much, But at least we got a working indoor bathroom. And then I can show you my room."

***

Branch's room was nothing special. Just an average foals room with a shelf here. A miniature table and chair there, a chest in the corner and a big bed under the window. The main feel about everything – like the rest of the house - was that everything seemed hoof-made out of wood. Either the sawmill had been producing more than just planks or his dad was as good with his hooves as he claimed. Sweetie didn't want to know if that said something about their financial state.

“Sorry about my Pa. He love telling that story. And I swear it gets more ridiculous each time. The forest is dangerous enough without somepony making stuff up.”

They jumped up and sat down in the bed, right next to the window. He patted the madras for her to sit next to him.

“Do you think your dad is lying then?” She said as she climbed into the bed, still dressed in blankets. Her legs felt to weak for her to jump into it like he did.

“No. I think there is something out there. Something scared of all the others. Towards the end everypony was saying so many things you could not tell who had actually seen anything and who had just heard it from somepony else.”

He stared out the window, into the gray and rainy night outside. Sweetie assumed it must be nighttime at least. But the world looked as gray and cold as it had during her whole journey. If the moon and all the stars where indeed shining in the sky their silver light was being filtered by the dark, rainy clouds into the same gray cold light that covered the world in daytime. If not for the great grandfather-clock in the house she would still not have been able to tell night from day. She didn’t even know which day it was. Was it still the same day as she had ran away from Ponyville? The same day as she ran away from school? The same day she chased Scoot to the school? The same day she made an impromptu lunch she never got to eat?

It all seemed like an eternity ago. Had she really not eaten anything but a bowl of soup of an eternity? That offered meal suddenly seemed insufficient. But it had at least saturated her so much that her tiredness outweighed her hunger.

She rested her elbow on the window stilt and looked out onto the rain pattering against the glass with Branch. Despite how heavy her eyes where she felt them drawn towards him. His eyes seemed so clean. Like the moonlight that failed to penetrate the cloud still reflected in his eyes.

“Well don't worry. My Pa is mighty strong.” He continued. “If any of those zombie or metal ponies came clomping in here he'll just stomp them to death. Assuming they where alive to begin with? I mean can a Zombie pony really be called alive?”

Sweetie didn't know. She didn't know if metal ponies was alive either. Maybe if they where aliens?
Either way she was to tired to contemplate.

“You know, I always wished for a friend. There aren't any other foals around here, and Pa cant afford to send me to school. That's a shame, since I would get to be with others my age then.”

Her eyelids blinked and she thought she might have nodded a second there. She leaned her head rested her head on her hoof. There was a wet “splosh” as her cheek collided with a wet sock.

“That and I also might be able to find out what I am suppose to be. since I'm clearly not meant to be a woodcutter or a dam-builder.”

Sweetie could relate.

“I don't know what I am either.”

She pulled the blanket over her head like a hood.

“Yea, You don't have a mark either. That's something we have in common. I cant think of any other foals my age that doesn't have a mark. Everypony used to say I was a late bloomer.”

Should she tell him about the CMC? Or not. They seemed like a distant past she did not want to bring up. Thinking about it was like opening up an old wound.

“Maybe we where meant to be together. I know it sounds silly. And I don't want to be all superstitious like my Pa. But I once wished upon a star that I would meet a friend someday. And they said that if you wish hard enough. Luna might hear you and make it happen.”

Sweetie could only see the clouds out there. And she thought it was Celestia you where suppose to wright to when you wanted foals to appear.

“Then you came. When I needed it the most.” He became very sincere. He looked deep into her eyes. “You saved my life. Will you be my best friend for ever”

He stretched out his hoof.

-:: Analyzing gesture // Interpretations ::
- A helping hoof
- Friendly gesture
- Sign of trust
- Hoofshake
- Proposing
-:: … Loading … // Proposing selected // Ruining synonyms ::
- BFF
- Special somepony ... ::-

Yes. Sweetie thought. In her sleepy state she actually wanted that. She wanted a friend who treated her like a Pony. A friend that didn't have that look in their eyes.

Maybe this was a hearts warming miracle.
Maybe she could stay here forever. Maybe she could celebrate Hearts Warming Eve together with them. They where all she wanted. Not percents or toys, but them. A family that treated her like a pony. Maybe he could actually be her special somepony.

She reached out her hoof and grabbed his. Deaf to the wet splosh her sock made on contact. Blind to that she was dirtying his bed.
Was this where they kissed under the moonlight? (as far as the gray light from outside counted as moonlight.)

-:: Initiate blushing sequence ::-

She leaned in closer.

“By the way, let me change that.” he said.

He grabbed her outstretched foreleg with both hooves, and pulled.

Sweetie reflexes where slow. And so where her processing capabilities. Far to late she realized she had stretched out her right hoof.
Before she could stop him. Before she do or say anything. He had pulled the sock down. The wet fabric might have shrunken and squeezed itself tight. But it still easily slid off the metal joints underneath.

Utter silence filled the room.
Even the rain seemed to have stopped its pattering against the window.

He just sat there frozen. His mouth was wide open and his eyes just as wide. Was he about to scream? Would his father come in her and stomp her to death?
Sweetie might have gasped. If not the fact she didn't draw a single breath any more. She just sat there as quiet as him (as she was sure he had just stopped breathing),
Slowly his eyes rose from her leg and began swooping over her face. His eyes, in which she could slowly see the way he looked at her change, being re-valuated, and replaced with...

-:: ... No ... ::-

“Wow... Are you a robot?”

His smile went wide.

“Just what I always wanted!”

The threw himself at her and hugged her tight.

“You saved my life, and you are a robot AND your gonna be my best friend forever!? This is gonna be the best hearts warming eve ever!”

He pulled away so he could look at her.

“I wised for a robot toy. But this year I got something better. I got you!” He said and threw himself at her with another hug.

Sweetie tensed. He called her a toy. How else was his statement suppose to be interpreted?

He hugged her long and hard So tight that sweetie might have trouble breathing - if she needed to. He was quite strong for somepony so skinny.
Finally he let go. He just sat quiet and looked at her. His smile was the widest Sweetie had ever seen him smile. And in that moment she could not help but notice the unwashed teeth. Had she really thought about kissing that dirty mouth? There was still pieces of soup between his teeth for Pete's sake! His eyes where just as wide. And she only now noticed they where not green like his mane – but gray, gray as soot and aches. How could any light shimmer in a color so dirty?
He looked like he wanted to eat her with those eyes. He looked at her like … Like that.

“Did you come from the forest?”

Sweetie did not have time to answer before the door creaked. In a flash, Branch grabbed Her and threw the bedsheet over them both. The next second Mr Beaver's head peeked into the room.

“How are you two doing in here. Tucked in for the night already?”

“Yes Pa.” Branch said.

Under the blanket he put his hoof on his mouth in a hushing gesture.

"Well there's no need for you two two to be groomed in a single bed." Mr Beaver chuckled. "That's why brought you a little something here."

His heavy hooves made the floorboards crack as he moved into the room. Branch gestured to Sweetie to lie completely still, then he pulled the blanket down, just so that their heads became visible, to see what his pa was doing.

Mr Beaver had brought a sleeping bag and an extra pillow, which he now laid out on the floor. If sweetie had needed to draw breath she would have been holding it in. She was afraid to even move for as long as the big stallion was still in the room and her mind was completely on the fact that Branch could reveal her at any time. Finally Mr beaver turned and walked out of the room. Though he lingered in the doorway with a smile at his son.

"Now it ain't for me to decide who sleeps where. But if you want to be a real gentleman son, you let the little miss have the bed."

With that he left. But he left the door slightly opened. Sweetie could hear him move away outside, then heard the bathroom door close. Immediately she began to crawl out of bed. Her eyes set on the sleeping bag. But branch reached out a hoof and stopped her.

He whispered.

“Its cool that you're a robot and all. Just don't tell my pa. If he found out I don't know what he might do. Maybe smash you to pieces, thinking your one of those monsters who drove the others away.” He but his hoof over his mouth in a “But don't worry. I wont tell. It will be our little secret.”

He pulled her tight into himself and laid down again.

"I don't think your like those things Pa talks about. No. You saved me. your my best friend now. you don't have to sleep on the floor."

He yawned. But made no attempts to get out of bed. instead he was making himself cozy next to her.

"You can sleep here in mine. With me.”

He smiled. And Sweetie smiled back. But inside she wanted to cry. She was gonna be forced into bed with a stranger. He was gonna cuddle up to her like a big teddy bear. And she did not dare to protest. What if she offended him? What if he called his dad? As such Sweetie found she had little choice but to cuddle with this stranger until he fell asleep.

***

It was not long before Branch fell asleep. His hoof wrapped around sweeties chest and his chin resting in her mane.
Sweetie could not sleep. Even though she had been dead tired she was wide awake.
Branch was drooling on her. Drooling on his new toy. His doll. His possession. He had cuddled up to her like she was a big teddy bear. Because in a way, that's what she was, wasn't it? Not a Bloodbot sent to conquer the world nor an alien offspring that had fallen from the sky. But a toy. A plaything.

Was this her true purpose? Was she gonna be just somepony's gift for the holiday? Was that why she was made?
Images played in her mind. Images of her arriving to her parents home in a nicely wrapped box. Images of her being given to Rarity on a Hearts Warming Eve many many years ago. Not as a sibling. But as a Toy. A toy sister.
Sweetie had seen those little pony dolls in shopping malls. Little plushies in the shape of lifelike foals that fillies played mother with. Never could she have imagined that she was so closely related to them.

All the things she and Rarity had done together. Was all those times just playtime’s? Was It all just Rarity playing sister with her super advanced little toy? And then Rarity had grown up and become to old for her toy. She became self centered and spoiled and started to shun her toy. Eventually she moved away. And the doll was left alone with the parents. At least for a time. Then they decided to drop her of with Rarity, Drop her off with all the other of Rarity's things. And then went on their way to where-ever. They had cleared of their house of their only daughters old things – along with her toy. Sweetie had known that all those bags they dropped of was Rarity's things. She had just never believed she was part of the luggage.

-:: Sadness levels rising ::-

The knot tightened so hard in Sweeties chest that it hurt. Even though she was dead tiered her thoughts kept her awake.

And now she was back in the same situation.

How quickly her dream of finding a new family had shattered. She had been so happy to meet them, so happy to see somepony treating her like a pony, somepony without that look in their eyes. And in one fell swoop it had been taken away. She had only just met this colt and now he where not gonna treat her like a pony any more. His father might – for a time.
He had said to keep her secret a secret. Otherwise his dad – ever fearful of the mechanical monsters in the forest – would stomp her to pieces.

But she knew that the secret could not last forever. Eventually it would come out.
She could not stay. Not with threats like that hanging over her. Not with somepony who where gonna treat her like a toy. Not with somepony looking at her like … that.

Branch snored into her ear. It had been easy enough to convince him she was asleep. All she had to do was shut her eyes and not breathe. His father had left the door slightly ajar and had, to her despair, peeked into the room many times to watch the sleep. But finally the lights outside the room where blown out and she heard him climb into bed. He snored louder than his son. And if it wasn't for everything already keeping her awake, then father and son snoring like a sawmill would certainly have done the trick. When she was convinced he slept deep enough she carefully removed his hoof from her chest and climbed out of the bed.

Her socks had been left to dry by the end of the bed. She donned them and carefully sneaked out into the hall.

She sneaked into the bathroom and looked the door. She opened the window. It was small, but big enough for her to fit through. The cold wind smashed her in the face. Almost tempting her to go back to the warm bed. But she knew she could not stay. If there where truly some metal ponies lurking in these woods, she had to find them. She had to ask them if they where her real family, and why they had sent her away. She had to know what she was. Because she simply could not be a doll.

But before she ventured out she took one last look back. At the toilet. She had not intended using it. But she might as well, else she was gonna have to do it in the forest.

***

Branch awoke to the sound of rain against his bedroom window. It had thankfully been a dreamless night for him. But as his mind restarted the events of yesterday where coming back to him.
The sense of pride that had come with the finished dam. The crushing defeat when it failed. The horror of being washed away by the river. The feeling of drowning.

His hoof grabbed after her. His source of comfort. The one who had saved him. The snow white Filly that appeared out of nowhere like a guardian angel, and pulled him from the ice cold river.
It was thanks to her that these things had not become him as much as they should. And he knew that her presence had protected her from nightmares. Was that perhaps one of her powers
Had she come from the forest? Was she one of the strange machines that his dad always talked about? Where they truly ancient guardians of the forest? Was she a mechanical spirit watching over them? Had she just done her duty as a guardian? Or had she perhaps come to be his friend? He would like that.

He reached out his hoof and continued to search for his angel, but he only grabbed empty air. Worried for the fist time since he saw her he sat up, but found nothing but an empty blanket beside him.

She was gone.

He quickly got out of bed and searched the house, finding the toilet occupied. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity he started to knock on the door. Receiving no answer.

He then went to tell his pa, and asked about her behavior. His pa laughed and told him that he had to respect a mares privacy. Mares always took long time in the bathroom. This his pa had learned from his ma.

Branch went back to his room as his pa went out in the rain to chop some wood with his bare hooves. Eventually Branch had to pee. But the bathroom was still occupied. Impatiently he started knocking and yelling out for her to open up less he was gonna pee himself.
That's when his father came back inside with a worried face.

“Son. Did you leave the bathroom window opened?!”

Worry filled them bout. Now even his father started banging and yelling at the door. and when that yearned no more avail Branch followed his father out in the rain to the open window. With his pa's help he climbed through the window, into the shockingly empty bathroom, and (After some much needed use of the toilet himself) unlock the bathroom door.

“Pa. Where is she?”

"I... I don't know son. Tell me she did not go into the forest!” His father said with dread. “Why would she do that? why would she just up and leave?”

Had she gone back to the forest? Had she returned to her own kin? He wanted to ask Pa this, but he had promised to keep it a secret. Still... She could have said something. Had he been to intrusive?

“Its my fault is it not?” Branch said and hung his head. "Because i did not want to sleep alone. I...I wanted us to sleep together. I just wanted to hold her in case I got nightmares about that river. Then maybe she could save me again.”

His pa looked at him with some semblance of disappointment.

“Son,” He rumbled, “you have got to learn to respect a mares privacy.”

"I just wanted a friend. I did not scare her away did I?” He said with tears in his eyes.

His pa didn't know what to say. But the father and son moment where interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

Outside stood a rain soaked stallion.

"I'm sorry to disturb you sir." Said the stranger. His voice was smooth and had a high class attitude to it that they where unused to out here in the bushes. “We are out looking for this little filly. Have you seen her?”

He held up a photograph. Branch gasped when he saw the familiar white filly with a purple mane and those joyful green eyes.

"If you know anything about this little mare then tell me. It is important that we find her immediately."

“Are you her parent?” Pa asked.

The stallion smiled.

“Yes. I am."

Author's Note

Another long chapter. Hope it was worth the wait.

Chapter 7: Prelude to Madness

Sweetie walked. For how long she did not know. The sun and moon never rose in the sky. There was nothing but the endless gray clouds and the rain pouring down on her.

She was cold and soaked, sour, hungry and tired. All of her hooves where hurting from all the walking and running.
(Minus her right front hoof, who she could not feel beneath the knee.)
And all the while she kept asking herself the same question.

Why?

Why was she doing this?

-:: Because they caused you pain ::-

Why was she running?

-:: To get away from the pain ::-

And what did she hope to accomplice by running?

-:: ... Getting away from pain ... ::-

The voices in her head was not helping.
It was true that she ran from those who would hurt her. But in doing so, was she not causing more harm to herself?

After all, where had it brought her? Out here in the woods chasing the imaginations of some paranoid, superstitious woodspony and his son. Because she had dared to believe their insane story of metal ponies lurking the woods.
Truly she must be mad to have followed such ideas. Yet she had done it anyway. Because she wanted to meet others of her kind.

But if such creatures existed. They did not want to be found.

She had been running around the woods for a small eternity. It could be hours or days for all she knew. She might even have been running in circles as she checked behind every tree after she became convinced that these strange otherworldly ponies where playing hide and seek with her. Why else where they not answering her calls?

She had called out several times. She called and shouted and eventually screamed for others to come and find her. Screamed until her throat became sore. But she was calling out to empty trees. The forest was silent. Every bird had long since flown south, and every little critter had gone into deep hibernation. The only thing that answered her calls were the rain.

The constant sound of falling water created a curtain that drowned out all sounds other than her own sploshing hoof beats. Then she realized that if the rain drowned out any sound she could hear, then her own voice would be drowned out to. Nopony would be able to hear her over the sound of the falling water.
And since shouting was pointless she picked up the paste. She ran and ran hoping to find anything. Hoping that a light would appear in the distance guiding her to some form of sanctuary.

But the rain remained an impenetrable curtain. She was cut of from the world in her own little bubble of darkness and cold. She cursed the cold. And she cursed the strange imaginary ponies for leaving her out like this. Cursed them for remaining hidden from her when she needed them the most. If they where gonna act like this then she didn't even want to find them.

She had long since passed the point when even the most determined treasure hunting filly would give up and go home. But she had no home. And as it became more and more clear she was not gonna accidentally stumble into some form of settlement her drive to press on started to dwindle.

What was she expecting? To find a tribe of metal ponies who would take her in as one of their own? That she would stumble and fall down a rabbit hole to the secret kingdom of lost toys? That she would get picked up by aliens to their mothership and leave this hurtful world behind? That was all she wanted. To get away from the pain. And doing that meant getting away from those who could hurt her.

But how bad had they really hurt her? It was true that it was she who decided to run away. to get away from the pain. But compared do the pain she was causing herself those things seemed small and insignificant.
She began to compare the memories of her hurt to her current situation.
The memory of Rarity's punch played in her mind. Blurry and filled with questions. How hard had it really been? Was it just a little push? Maybe Rarity just raised her forelegs, and Sweetie had just bounced of her? Rarity could be quite soft and bouncy. And sweet. And squishy. Like a marshmallow.

Her stomach made a loud rumble.

She tried to smile at the concept of having a piece of candy for a sister. But it only made her hungrier.
She wished Rarity was here so she could eat her. Not because she hated her. Even though maybe she should. Since she had pushed her aside and forced her to leave. Even thought that wasn't the main reason.

No. Rarity's push or Scootaloos words where not the main force that had made her leave.
Rather it was the eyes that scared her the most. The eyes that had hurt the most. That's what she ran from. From those who would look at her differently. From those who would treat her differently.

But she was different. It had become harder and harder to deny that.
Scootaloo had called her a Toy for the rich
Branch had said she was like a robot toy.
She did not want to be anyponys toy. She wanted to be a real pony. But ponies always found out her secret. And if they where always going to find out - Did that mean that it was her place? Was being a toy who she was really meant to be?

She looked back at her flank.

Bare.

“Have I ever tried to be a toy?” She asked herself.

What would a toy for a mark look like? A teddy bear? Teddy bears where soft and snuggly things. Meant for cuddling and hugging. Right now she wanted nothing more than a hug.
And a meal.
And some roof over her head.
And a warm bed to rest in.

-:: Homesickness levels rising ::-

She just wanted to find her way back. Back to Rarity. That little fight they had seemed so meaningless now. She wanted to be home under a warm blanket with a cup of hot chocolate in her hooves in front of the fireplace.
But she couldn't get home. She was lost. And she had no one to help her.

She had left the only two ponies who might have been able to help her find the way back in order to run out into the woods looking for fables created by a paranoid woodcutter.

Not that she could have stayed - said a voice in her head. The threat of what they might do to her was to big.
Still. Maybe she would not have been found out if she had just trusted Branch with her secret. Then she could at least have had a home, a bed, and food for as long as the secret would have lasted.

It did seem mad to trade that for the endless forest, the cold, and rain.

Her stomach rumbled again. She had to stop and put a hoof around it, less it might try to eat itself from within.
If she had been hungry before - now she was flat out starving. Her stomach felt like it was twisting together into a knot. It was a pain she could not outrun. Pain was something to be avoided at all cost. That was the directive she was written for herself.

But she could not run from her hunger.

-:: Contradiction ::-

Yes. It was all a series of contradicting compromises as she tried to weigh the options of what would cause her the least amount of pain. Was that how she was gonna have to live her life from now on? Moving from family to family hoping they take pity on her and shield her until he secret was out and she had to move again?

No. She did not want that to be her life. She would rather be a doll to some drooling children than having to live like this. Anything rather than living like this.
She made a promise to herself not to run from from the next place she got to. She was gonna stay regardless of how ridiculed she got, as long as she got something to eat. The horror of ponies looking down her with those eyes did not measure up to the pain of her empty stomach imploding on itself. It did not outweigh the cold that was biting through her fur with daggers of ice cold water.

It did most certainly not appear worse than the constant dripping sound of raindrops that was really starting to drill their way into her mind!

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Sweetie raised her head and screamed at the skies. Screamed at the stupid weather pegasi that had followed her with these clouds of misery. Screamed at them for forcing this frozen shower upon her. Screamed at them to stop this cruel joke. She screamed until she should have run out of breath, but with no breaths to take she just kept screaming until something inside her said she had exceeded her set voice limit and started a hoarse sequence. Her voice gave out and her throat started to hurt. More pain was all she got for her trouble. The rain that just wouldn't stop.

And the voices wouldn't stop either. Voices She could hear go through the notions in the back of her head. Voices that said her body temperature was dropping. That her skin was suffering from cold exposure. How her pistons was suppose to vibrate to simulate shivering. How much Telling a nerve cluster in her nose to stimulate her mucosa to produce more snot.

Maybe she rely was insane if she was hearing voices? That sounded like a perfectly logical explanation to everything she was doing.
She was after all running around in the woods looking for the imaginations of some paranoid, superstitious woodspony and his son. If they even existed in the first place. Maybe she imagined saving a foal from the river and drowning.

A voice in her head told her that was impossible. She clearly had memories of both Branch and Mr Beaver.

She must be going insane. Maybe she already was insane? Maybe that explosion had given her brain damage. Maybe she imagined the whole thing? She pulled down her sock and looked down on the gears in her exposed foreleg. Maybe she imagined that too. Maybe it was all an hallucination and she was some crazy pony with a few loose screws running around in the forest at night thinking she was a robot?

But no matter how much she wished brain damage could explain the questions of her being it did not help the situation she had put herself in. Insanity did not stop the reality of the rain.

Was there no way to end this? Was there no way to turn off the cold? She didn't want to feel this way any more.
She wished with all her might that there would be some way to make the cold stop. She prayed to the stars hidden above - Luna please come down and take this rain away!

Her desperate desire made an insane thought appear in her mind. Insane in the sense that it was something she would never have considered. Something no ordinary little filly should be able to do.

She looked down on her right foreleg. The only part of her that was unaffected by the weather. At The edge of the scourged red area were toothmarks had slowly begun to heal away, and new skin slowly crept back over the metal. The edge of flesh that should have hurt so bad it rippled her, but didn't. The edge of naked meat that went as unaffected by the rain and cold ans the metal joints below.

“Could you please stop freezing?” She asked herself.

At first, nothing. She asked a couple of more times, and still nothing.

“STOP FREEZING!” She yelled in her already sour voice.

Nothing.

Then she started laughing. She laughed because she really must have gone insane if she was screaming at herself?
Why was she screaming anyway? The voices where in her head. Should she not be screaming at them?

So, she turned her attention inwards. Backwards. And listened. To the voices.
Just doing so brought them to her attention.

-:: ... Shivering sequence ongoing ... ::-

Could you please stop freezing? She thought at the voices.

At first, nothing. She asked a couple of more times, and still nothing.

-:: Frustration levels rising ::-

She quickly lost patience. What kind of stupid imaginary partner would just ignore her? what kind of companionship would these voices be if they just ignored her?
She wanted to take that voice and give it a face just so she could punch it into obedience. They were her imaginary friends for Pete's sake, and they where gonna do as she said! She was done asking nicely. She was way too cold, hungry and tired to put up with them. Instead she mentally screamed at the voice, demanding obedience.

-:: STOP FREEZING! STOP SHAKING! STOP FEELING SO COLD! ::-

-:: Command Override ::-
-:: Shivering sequence halted ::-

At once, as if somepony had cast a paralyze spell on her, her body became still. Sweetie would have gasped at her situation if she could draw breath. She had to move her body around to check that it had not frozen solid in the cold.
It had not. It moved at her will, as smooth as ever. More even since she was no longer vibrating like a leaf.

For the first time in to long, Sweeties lips curled upwards in a genuine smile. She had done it. She had made one of the stupid voices in her head stop! She became so filled with joy she wanted to dance.

If the cold had not caused her to shiver.

-:: Resuming shivering sequence ::-

-:: No! Stop! ::-

-:: Override ::-

-:: Resuming... ::-

-:: Override ::-

-:: Resuming... ::-

-:: OVERRIDE! ::-

-:: … ::-

-:: Resuming … ::-

Sweetie let out a non existent breath in frustration. She had made the voices in her head obey her for just for a moment, but then they started again. Every time she tried to make them shut up they rebooted. Like they where just messing with her.

For that she wanted to grabbing hold of them and smack them around for being such meany beans. If they where not gonna listen to her they could at least be quiet.
She tried to smack them out of her head. But that did not work. Every time she smacked one voice away a new one took its place. There where nopony to smack but herself. They where just words being thrown at her like crumpled paper from an annoying classmate.

The voices themselves seemed to be coming from somewhere far, far away. Like an echo from a cave that stretched deep back into her mind.
Sweetie wanted to know who was shouting. She wanted to follow the sound of the voices into that dark cave, find the ones who was talking, and punch them all in the muzzle.

She stretched her mind backwards. Fooling the echo back into the darkness. As she focused on in she felt herself being pulled deeper into herself. And subsequently further away from her eyes.

Turning her attention back from the deeps of her mind she could feel that her eyes had stopped moving. They just stared, dumbfound, like a pair of windows out into the world out there
She could still see through her eyes. But she lost control of them as her focus disappeared elsewhere.

A moment of panic was about to set in as she thought she was about to be pulled on another roller-coaster-ride.

But this time it wasn't hew whole body screaming at her at once. It was just a single trail of information that flowed into the forefront of her mind, because she had asked it. One flow of voices who had come because she asked for them.

Something else triggered inside her. Curiosity.
Like a foal playing gold digger she wanted to see where they came from. She wanted to go into that cave in the back of her mind. Guided by these voices that would show her the way. Along the track they had laid out for her.

If she could take a breath to calm herself, she would. Before donning her metaphorical mining cap and ventured down into the darkness. She followed the track back as she backtracked the flow of the voices along the track back into her mind.

For reasons she could not explain She knew she would find answers to her problem at the source of the voices. It was like she had access to information she had previously been cut off from, and had chosen to ignore up until now.

Or it might all just be wishful things made up by her ever growing insanity.

The shivering sequence, and all the others voices that bugged her about her cold, all came together on the same track.
They all came from the same place somewhere in the back of her mind. (Or some part) Something she became aware of. Something labeled possessor “Body functions processor”
She did not know how she knew it was called that. The information was just there, on it.

And it was almost overwhelming. If the voices she had followed were a track, then this was the head of all switching stations. Though comparing the things that passed through here to something as clumsy as locomotives was wrong. It was more like rivers flowing through a channel junction. Rivers of information flowing through a main pipeline where information flowed back and forth.

-:: Skin temperature dropping // Body temperature below comfort levels // Shivering sequence ongoing ::-
-:: Food supply emptied // Rising hunger levers // Stomach ache ongoing // Increasing stomach ache ::-
-:: Booger production ongoing // Stimulating nerve cluster “nostril left and right.” // Itch detected in nostrils // Initiate sneeze sequence // Command aborted // Airpump on standby // Breathing protocols on standby // Failsafe active ::-

She realized she had found the source of the voices.

Was this the source of her insanity?
If so, she wanted to remove it. But at the same time it would be lonely to do so.
They where her only companion. What harm could there be in talking to them?

She asked the processor if it could stop feeling cold. But it could not. Because the processor was simply relaying information about the cold to the rest of the body (in form of the appropriate sequences. The flow of cold information came flowing from somewhere else. From hundreds of sensors. And each and every sensor was connected to a little organic knot. And these knots where…

Everywhere!

Sweetie would have gasped for air. Regardless if she gasped or not her eyes flung open.

Her eyes looked down on her leg. And at the same time she was there. In her leg. Like her consciousness had stretched out and wrapped around every single one of those sensors thingies.

She was suddenly aware of her skin in a way she never had before. Of hundred of knots under her skin. Knots that led out to a network of tiny wires that collected information of the outside world in ways of small electrical signal that the sensors translated to data of what her skin was experiencing. All the cold and rain. Every straw that bent in the cold wind. Every drop of rain that made contact with her body. Every speck of dirt and mud that had plastered to fur. Every straw of grass that bent under her hooves. All this energy was then fed back to that part inside her, labeled “Body functions processor.”

Sweetie sat still for a moment. Trying and failing to wrap her head around all this. And almost forgetting about the rain as she did. Almost. If she hadn't been shaking like mad.

Her body was shaking because of her pistons vibrating. - Her pistons where vibrating because of the shivering sequence. – And the shivering sequence came from the processor. - And the processor sent it because it received information of cold. - And the cold information came from the sensors – and the sensors where connected to knots of nerves that sent electric signals about the rain and the wind hitting her fur and hair and the skin underneath. – the skin that covered all of her body.

Almost everything...

The sensors in her right foreleg laid dormant. The nerve-knots they were suppose to be connected to having been blown of by a impromptu homemade explosives, and then chewed of again by a wild beast.

Sweetie touched her chest, which was neither rising nor falling due to the lack of breath. Her thoughts returned to the events in the river. The memory of when her lungs (or was it airpump?) disconnected due to a “failsafe” appeared in her mind.

Where was the failsafe from the rain? How much cold was she supposed to endure before it was deemed to much? What kind of sadistic prick would let her feel like this? Was there no way of triggering the failsafe? Was there no way of turning of the cold?

She closed her eyes and focused on that word. Focused with all the burning desire she had to find it.

Failsafe.

... Failsafe ...

-:: ...Failsafe... ::-

-:: ... Scanning ... // ... Scanning ... // Scan complete // Failsafe located ::-

True to her suspicions. A part of the failsafe had already been activated in her foreleg. Eager excitement ruched into her. Was this the off switch she wished for?

-:: Activate failsafe ::-
-:: Systems check // Failsafe levels not reached ::-

Oh come on! Just how much cold was she suppose to enure? And Just who programs a little filly to feel such cold anyway?

-:: SHUT IT DOWN! SHUT IT ALL DOWN!! ::-

-:: Activating failsafe // Selecting sensors … ::-

-:: ALL OF IT! ::-

-:: Whole body selected // Nerve sensor net entering standby // Exterior sensor grid shutting down ::-

Just like that. It disappeared. The cold, the rain, everything. The sensors turned off. Her skin turned off. Like her lungs had done in the river. It was like she had been hit bi an instant-dry spell. Except she did not feel dry. Nothing took the colds place but an emptiness. A sense of something vital was lost.
She continued to shake for just a little while. But with the flow of cold information broken her body functions had lost all reasons to be screaming about temperature ans shiver sequences. the voices grew quiet. And her pistons lapped down.

She looked up to see the rain still falling. It fell on her open eyes, but she did hot blink. The reflex to pull the protective lid over her eyes were gone. Because she did not feel like there was anything on her eyes. She didn't feel like there was anything on her skin. She didn't feel the cold any more.

She rose a hoof to the sky and cried out.

“Yeah! Take that weather! Your stupid cold and your stupid rain cant hurt me any more!”

Her stomach growled again. It felt like it was tightening into a knot. She thin soup Mr Beaver had provided hadn't satisfied her already empty belly. And it now felt like it was about to curl up into a tight knot.

She wanted to go back in and look for a way to stop even this pain, to maybe find a failsafe for her belly ace as well, when a primal fear stopped her. The fear that all who starve eventually receive. The fear of just how much longer they can go on without perishing.

She knew that everypony needed to eat in order to have the energy to do anything. Biology lessons in school had covered this. Food became energy. Even robots had to eat at some point right? Or should she say refuel? If she did not refuel she would surely collapse. How long could she go before that happened? How much further could her body carry her before she ran out of energy? And how much energy did she have left in her? Maybe her stomach rumbles was her body's way of saying she needed to refuel. And if she turned of that and just went, how long before she succumb to energy loss?

She did not want to find out how it felt when her body ran out of energy.
And she was even less curious about what happened then.
What if she shut down here in the middle of the woods? Where no pony would ever find her! Would she just lie here in the wet grass unable to move. Paralyzed. Trapped in the shell of her own nonfunctional body! Forever!

That thought was far to scary to prioritize her own comfort over. As much as she wanted to turn off that feeling, she didn't dare. If she didn't eat she would surely collapse. She had to eat, or refuel ... but with what?

She was not a Bloodbot. She didn't run on pony blood. Not as far as she knew any way.
But what did she run on? Food and water seemed like the obvious answer. It was the only thing she had been eating her entire life. And cake. And ice cream. And candy. Lots of candy. Maybe she ran on sugar? Maybe that was why she was so sweet. She tried to smile at the concept. But it only made her hungrier. Still. It would be funny if she ran on sugar. That would make her the Sweetest little bot ever.

Sweetie ... Bot?

Sweetie … Sweet ... was that where her name came from?

But where would she get something to eat? There was nothing in the forest to sustain her but grass on the ground and the water in the puddles. She could not find a single flower, leaf or berry. All the plant-life had long since wittered. All the trees where bare of leaves, and the bushes had been picked clean by animals preparing for winter. She couldn't even find any running rivers. Not even the smallest stream.

She tried to push the thought of food out of her mind and pushed on through the forest. But it wasn't long before hunger pushed its way back. And without the cold there was little to distract her from her belly's roars.

When hunger and thirst became to much she looked down to the grass beneath her hooves.
She had not payed much attention to pre-Equestrian history class. But presumably there was a time before civilization when ponies ate grass and lived in caves. Those lucky bastards. At least they had a cave over their head. Presumably a fire to warm themselves by, and a family to be with....

Family...

Hunger made her crave for a family. For anypony to just give her something to eat. Just give her something to warm herself by Just something to get her out of this Celestia forsaken rain!

She tried to resist the urge but hunger became too strong. Stronger than the fear of getting sick. Robots couldn't even get sick right? So there was no harm in trying.

Without further adieu she bent her head down and clenched her teeth around a tuft of wet grass.

The grass tasted foul and bitter. But she forced herself to chew and swallow until she could feel her tongue burn. She tried to wash it out with the water in a big puddle. But that only made it worse. A burning pain was building in her throat. Like the grass was on its way up.
Why?
Why did it hurt so much to eat? Just who programs a robot to need to eat anyway!? Furthermore who would programs a robot to puke?

Maybe it was part of the fun of a living doll. Forever a foal that ate and puked and pissed itself so the play pretend parents could have the joy of taking care of it.
Right now she would be Someponys toy forever if she could just get them to take care of her. Being a toy could not be so bad. At least they got fed and nursed and …

-:: Hazardous substance detected // Flushing system ::-

Her belly rebelled against the unfamiliar substance. She bent over and puked where she was standing.
And with the last contents of her stomach she lost her last ounce of strength.

She collapsed next to the puddle of her own puke. Her legs would no longer carry her. She was so tired from having skipped sleep in her run from Beavers hut. And with the hunger and cold gone, there where nothing to distract her from how tired she was.

How long was it since she had slept? At least a whole day and night. She had not slept since she had woken up that horrible school day that marked the beginning of a new week.
At least she had lost her urge to eat.

She remained lying in the grass. Not feeling the rain on her fur or the cold from the ground. Neither feeling any cramp or hunger in her belly.
What she did feel was exhaustion. She must have been walking and running the entire night. She didn't feel like she had the strength to get up.
She didn't even have strength enough to cry over her miserable situation. And if she did cry, any tears went unnoticed into her already rain soaked fur. A rain she could only hear as it pattered callously in her ear.
She was separated from it all. The damp ground. The wet grass, the chilly wind and ant the pattering rain.
Separated by the shell that was her own body that she had retreated down into. It was not a warm place. But it was at least not cold.

The sound of rain eventually shifted to to that of drippings in a puddle, as her upwards facing ear filled with rainwater. It was so smooth and calming and made her think about dew drops falling into a pond.

-:: … Entering sleep mode ... ::-

***

Sweetie was standing in front of a gigantic control panel. A wall of metal and wires, filled with lights and buttons. Row upon row of switches and breakers on top of each other stretching up and up so high that it disappeared out of sight.

On the center of the wall, High up but still within eyesight, was a sign. A sign the size of a billboard, that with big letters said "Power consumption". On the left and on the right of the sign were clocks with to many digits, symbols and to many pointers. Pointers that constantly ticked backwards in an finite tone. Every button had a light above it that shone ominously red, and together they painted the world so bright it was like a mist of blood. And the wall itself gave a somber electrical hum so loud that it seemed to vibrate the air.

The whole machine was disturbing Sweeties rest, bringing her to unrest.

She walked up to the wall, to the first row of switches that were the only row she could reach. along this road there were several lights that were out and several buttons flipped down. The wall did not hum as loud in these parts.

Every switch were twice as big as she was. Every button had a knob leaning out over her head like a thick springboard into a pool. And from every knob hung a sigh. From this one, just above her eye level, It read out "snot production."

To her left, were the buttons that were flipped down she saw sign like "Skin" - "Shivers" and "Lungs".
To her right, where the buttons were flipped up. She saw signs like "Hoarse throat" - "Nervecluster" and "Lactic acid"
She looked back up ad the knob above her, steadied herself and leaped up.

She got her forehooves over the edge of the knob, but was unable to pull herself up. There was little else she could do but kick with her dangling backlegs. But the button gave way to the weight of her body, and began to descend. Sweetie hung on till her backhooves touched ground again, and was able to push the knob the rest of the way.

The red light above it went out. An the wall seemed to slow in its humming tune.

Sweetie moved on along the bottom row. Repeating the process on every switch but a few. Things like "Belly" and "Heartbeat" she left undisturbed. They seemed too important to touch. While things like "Nervecluster" and "Sequences" all got the switch. Last but not least she flipped a whole bunch of buttons labeled "Rectal compressor" - "Waste converter" and "Urine distributor" (and other words synonymous with ass)

Finally she had flipped every switch deemed unworthy, unnecessary, or just plain useless. With that the hum of the machine wall changed to a more slumberous tone. The ticking of the clocks grew quiet an distant and the light was no longer so strong with most of the lights of down here. With that sweetie could lay down on one of the soft, rubber quilted button knobs and drift away into another dream.

***

There stood a stallion at the top of a hill next to the river. A stallion dressed in a long black cape that made him merge with the shadows. He had a hunch a lost soul had crossed this river. A soul he had come to claim.

From the hill he had a good look of the sawmill down below.
There he waited patiently for his partner to return, Hopefully with words of her whereabouts.
His partner had thought this place a dead end. But even so they should ask.

Even if she wasn't here she had to be somewhere in these woods. And he suspected that she did not know what she ran on. And even if she did. She would not be able to find it out in this forest. If so it would not be long until she ran out of energy. Not with all the power her mad dash from the village must have consumed.

Her body would shut down and she would (for a lack of better word) fall asleep.
Hopefully he would find her like that. Peacefully put to sleep. It would be easy to finish it then. And she would get to pass peacefully into the ever after. Quiet and peacefully. As it should be. As every mortal pony deserved. The ethereal rest.

The thought filled him with a blissful ease that sent an electrical tingle down his spine and out his forelegs. He touched his forehooves together, and a spark jumped between them. A small bolt of lightning ran between his hooves as he pulled them apart. It sparked as the rain fell upon it. But did not disappeared until he broke the flow himself.

Yes. With these hooves he would do what he should have done so long ago.

Not that his partner would let him. He served a different master. A false master.
Prestige had been akin to be discreet as his master had ordered him. Shockwave didn't care much for Prism's master. He served the one true master. The master of all of ponykind. Their divine ruler and paragon.

Just thinking about her filled him with a warm feeling. Such was the way of Celestia. Just thinking about her filled you with her warmth.

It was a warmth he had been denied for so long. After he joined with Prism and his ilk. Joined with the false master. Why had he done it? Out of Pride? Out of greed? It did no longer matter. He had broken every code of practice. And in return she had turned her gaze from him.

After realizing his mistake he had chosen a life in solitude, as the sole operator on an remote lightning catching power plant. The job suited him and his talent well. There he made a shrine to her holiness and prayed everyday for forgiveness for the life he had taken from her. Never expecting an answer. He had been prepared to live out his life, unforgiven, grounded, in isolation. But his prays must have been heard, for finally he had gotten his chance at redemption. A chance to do right where he once wronged so bad.

He raised his head to the sun and let the rain fall on his face. These clouds were loaded, and a storm would soon break out. He could feel it in his wingtips.

The rain had come like a gift from her graze. For it made it easy to move in the strange town without drawing attention. It was easy to stake out a town when nopony wanted to step outside. But it had also been a double edged sword. For the rain formed at curtain that made it hard to see.

And in that curtain she had been lost.

They had been outside that Boutique. Debating on when best to get her. When a scream and a crash draw their attention.
not being one to ignore calls for help he had flown over, and seen her run from the Boutique. It could have been over then and there. He could have caught her and ended it. But alas his wings had failed him. Years at the power plant had not helped his stamina. And their target had vanished behind the weather-curtain. She had moved like a pony possessed. Never had he seen a filly - or any pony - move that fast. He did not know what parts they had put in her. But they clearly far exceeded the limits of a normal pony. Limits she wasn't suppose to be able to break. The machine in her must have awakened. A beast they had sought to restrain. A creature they should not have made in the first place.

At least he had been able to see which road she took. The only road leading straight west. into these woods.
Their plan was to follow her trail, and doing so had brought the two of them here. A dead end at a dead saw mill. He at first thought the whole area was abandoned, till they saw the light in the small cabin.

With no other options it was time to ask.

Ask and pray.

His prays were interrupted by the sound of hooves coming at him. From the rainy curtain emerged the dark blue shape of his partner. A small magic aura, as white as his mane, was emitting light from his horn.

In the light he could see that his partners face had been grazed with a larger than average hoofmark. Nicely encapsulating a black eye on his left.

"Had they seen her?"

His partner merely grunted in response. But nodded.

"Thought I were her father."

"And?"

"She's not here any more." Was the terse response.

A response that meant there was no need for further questions. Prestige did not make a good conversationalist at the best of times. He could not have left a good father impression on the residences if he was greeted in such a way. Still.
Surely such a prestige filled stallion like himself could not fail to convince these humble ponies of their goal. Prestige was after all his name.

"So where did she go?"

Prestige simply gave him a terse look and pointed to his left eye.

The Pegasus could not help but smirk. Such should be the sinners reward. And in truth, apart from the hoofmark encapsulating it. His left blackened eye was not so different from his right.

Prestige's eyes had always been unusually dark, yet at the same time clear as a prism. Which was, after all, the second part of his name. Prism Prestige.

Still, it was disappointing that their prays had been answered with nothing more than a hoof to the face. though perhaps not surprising. Given Prestige's lack of charisma. And his persistence to be so discreet.
Still it was a bit upsetting that he could get no more information out of these humble ponies. Without directions they had the whole forest in front of them. A forest that covered a good chunk of Equestria's western map. And she was but a tiny tiny dot on that map. A lost soul now wandering lost in that forest. Trapped in that hideous body of her.
No. The time for clear speech had come If they where to find her and end her suffering.

“Let me talk to them. Surely these humble ponies will be able to understand our quest.”

With that he put down his robe, and spread his wings to gracefully glide down the hill, right to the cabin door.

***

Prism rubbed his left eye as he waited. He hated waiting. In truth he wanted nothing more than to go back down there and give that brute of a brown stallion back for having marked his perfect deep blue hide like this. He should pry every piece of information out of that dirty earth pony and his son. They were holding back vital information. They had more then just seen that little white tool. They were covering her. Or would have if she was still here.

He had seen in in them. Just like he saw everything. Ponies were so easy to read. His prism clear eyes saw everything. And now that dirty earth pony had put his muddy hoof on one of them.

For that reason alone he wanted them to suffer. And he would have if not for his piss yellow pony-feathered partner did not get in his way with his preaching about not hurting the innocent and staining their souls further. That shocking shake had simply been enough to make him agree not to storm the Boutique and take what was theirs by force. It was not surprising that his name was "Shockwave." The waves that piss yellow pegasus could send through you was enough to make the average pony plead in obedience.

Not that Prism was average. He was far above it. He was perfect. His name was Prestige, the very word implied perfection.
His attitude had once earned him the nickname 'Pretentious Pete' in school. Not that he cared. It was not his fault he was better than everypony else. And he got back at all the imperfect once by being just that. Better.

Everypony else was a imperfect compared to him. Already before getting his mark he knew he was special. Teachers and others would have them believe that until getting your mark, you were all like rough diamonds. He knew better – they where dirt. Imperfect beings that had been branded with marks of their own imperfection. While his own mark was the symbol of his perfection. A prism. Splicing the very light into a rainbow. A symbol that said he could take what some deemed Celestia's domain and break it down. Make it into something new. And that's what he did. With the help of his master and a few others like his current companion. He knew he would have done fine without their help. But the boss insisted. And her word was law.

He scratched the back of his head. even after all these years he could feel it. The gift he had gotten from his master. The thing of her creation that had made him into an even better pony. Sometime that should have been impossible. Yet she had done it. She had found a way to refine the already perfectly cut diamond that he was. And for that he owed her everything.

For her sake he had chased the treacherous Belle's over the planet. To take back what they stole. But he had found that they did no longer posses the thing he sought. So he had resorted to following them. Knowing that they one day must return to their precious little prize. He did so for some time before they came to this little hole called Ponyville. Imagine his joy when he learned that their little Daughter lived in town. Finally his years of tracking was gonna pay of. Finding out where she lived had been surprisingly easy for somepony who had been staying hidden for the better part of their life.

Nopony questioned a couple of strangers moving into the same motel as the elder pair. Nopony where gonna ask about the tourists sightseeing the town. Some simple eavesdropping had revealed that their daughter was the town tanner. And her Boutique had been easy to find.

Such a waste of talent. He thought. That little mare was of a rare breed. Almost as perfect as him. He would have asked her to be his wife had she only been older when they first met. Before he realized there was another meant for him. The mare for whom he had agreed to work with that piss yellow Pegasus. The feather brain that had held him back from going into that Boutique.

Still. The masters word was his law. And he was forced to admit the guy was useful for a few things (shocking notwithstanding).

Besides, every genius needed a few lackeys to do the dirty work. Just like Shockwave. That fool you could always leave on the worst rainy scouting duty, and he would gladly accept it. Not that Prism had shied away from his own duties. His master wasted her stolen property back. And she was finally gonna get it. In time for Hearth's Warming Eve as well. How poetic.

Just thinking about his master warmed his heart. After he had gotten their little prototype back they could finally get married, refine their business, and have all the foals they wanted. Foals that would be as perfect as they wanted them to be.

Prism was woken from his thoughts by rustling in the bushes behind him. he turned to see Shockwave emerge from the thorns. Remarkably that he came from behind. Shockwave was panting and out of breath. Clearly he'd been forced to make a run for it, and not wanted to lead his pursuers back to his equally unwelcome partner.

Prism smirked a the sight of a black eye encapsulated with an larger then average hoofprint upon the right side of his yellow face. Clearly only Shockwaves wings had saved him from further blows.

“Forgive these simple ponies. They know not what they do.” His yellow partner said in his usual pretentious tone.

***

Unbeknownst to them. A Rare breeded mare had also taken up chase.

Author's Note

I chose to call this chapter a prelude - cause that's just what it is. The beginning of the next chapter - that became so big that i had to split it up into three parts.

Chapter 8: Loose Screws

When Sweetie awoke. She did not know if hours or minutes had passed. She felt as tired as ever. And would have liked to go back to sleep in the empty shell she felt like. If it had only been an quiet shell as well, not filled with voices running through her mind telling her that her skin was suffering from lying outside, on the cold open ground, in the middle of the rain. If not for the uncomfortable of not being uncomfortable. Of not feeling whether or not a soft pillow was under her head. Whether or not a blanket was pulled over her. She knew that there wasn't, and that made it worse. She felt naked without being able to feel anything touch her skin. And the knowledge that she was exposed made the feeling establish itself on the inside.

And then of course there was the roar in her belly.

As she awoke, so did the hunger. Sweetie had never woken up hungry before. She could not imagine anypony ever feeling like this. She was so hungry she could puke. A concept that made no sense whatsoever to her. It was further proof that she was going insane.
She had to get out of this forest before she became some kind of crazy wood ravager or something. Before she became the very thing Mr Beaver said lurked in these woods.

Maybe that's what the tribe of metal ponies would really be like? Dolls like her that had discovered their secret and run away. Toys that had been cast out from their families when their owners grew tired of them. A colony consisting of discarded teddy bears and plushies and train sets and balls. Maybe there would even be colts and fillies like herself? Maybe it was the discarded toys that raided pony settlements in revenge against the ponies who threw them away.

Or maybe it was all just in her head. It sounded way too much like a wishful imagination. Regardless, she knew she wasn't going to find Toyland by just lying here.

She rose and looked around herself. Everywhere looked the same. Bare trees against a gray curtain of fog and rain that prevented her from seeing more than a hundred meters in either direction. She had no idea where she had come from, since the rain had washed away all hoof prints. Every direction looked as good as any.

With nowhere left to turn, she picked a direction and walked.

She felt nothing for having on the ground, exposed to the never ending rain. She could not feel the raindrops falling on her, nor the cold wind blowing nor the grass in her hair. She doubted she could get sick. at least not sick for real. Snot may be running from her nose, and she might sneeze and cough. But it was all just a program running.

Toys did not get sick. Unless they ate hazardous grass apparently. She was glad her belly rejected it. Since it was probably poisonous or something. Stupid grass. Taunting her with its poisonous green color. She would step harder on it if she had the energy to do so. But she did not have the energy to be mad at it.
She did not have the energy to care that her mane and tail was so wet they hung like a rug and dragged on the ground. Her only thought was to put one tired, heavy hoof in front of the other in hope of finding somewhere to eat.

***

Eventually she found a road. It should be a good sign as roads usually led somewhere. But with no indication of where it led she simply had too pick a direction and walk.

The road was long and flanked only by the high walls of trees. The heavy rain created a curtain that forbade her to see beyond a hundred yards. At fist She did her best to avoid the many puddles in the holes in the road, trying to spare her socks and herself. But eventually she just ignored them and walked straight through. It had become to difficult to steer round them, and she doubted she or her socks could get any wetter anyway.

Eventually the curtain of trees opened up into a side road. She decided to take it, thinking that it. thinking that a smaller road must be closer to something.
Down that road she could eventually just make out the silhouette of a house.

Getting closer, it looked more like a big mansion. An old looking, three story complex with brown brick walls and a black tiled roof. The front was surrounded by a high wall of the the same brickwork. In which A big black gridded gate stood half open.

At the side of the gate hung a sign:

Headstone's house for the mentally unhealthy.

Underneath somepony had clarified with spraypaint:

Nut house.

Great. Just what she needed.

Walking through the gate and up to the black front double door, Sweetie could see that black grills covered every window. Almost like a prison. Rainwater poured like waterfalls from the overflowing gutters, and spashed on the windowstills, like the house was crying for her. The place looked old, and half abandoned. But only half. Sweetie was happy just to see that there was light coming from some of the windows. Some light guiding her through the darkness.

Despite the fact it looked like something out of an old horror movie, she pushed herself through the gate and walked up to the big black double door.

The wall did not surround the house, but extended from the edges of its walls and reached around a square patio like a mother pulling her into its embrace. Shielding her from the forest outside.

For some reason Sweetie felt like she had come home. That she had finally found a place that would accept her. She dared to once again believe that this was a place she could stay, despite the voice in her head telling her of her previous failed attempt in finding refuge.

She corrected the sock on her right foreleg, not wanting to scare any caretakers away with her hideous leg. Or risk them to trowing her out because she was broken.

She knocked on the door, and waited.
The door had no porch, so she was forced to stand in the rain in hope that somepony would answer the door. But there was no response. She knocked again, and waited even longer. But no one opened.

No! This couldn't be happening to her! This place couldn’t lock her out before she even got a chance! She started banging with increasing frequency. Butt still the black gates denied her entrance.

Why was nopony answering?. There was light in the windows. Somepony had to be home! Somepony had to let her in!

She desperately Reared up and banged on the door with both front hooves.

Please open up. She pleaded. She would do anything to be out of this rain! She would snuggle with a hundred creepy strangers if somepony would just give her a blanket. She would sing every time they poked her tummy if she just got a scrub to sleep in! She'd be a good little doll if anypony just gave her something to eat!

Finally somepony answered. A muffed "Stop screaming." came from inside. A second later one of the doors opened inwards with a low, heavy creak, and a mare appeared before her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a tired, indifferent voice. "And why are you making such a ruckus?"

Sweetie was left speechless. For a second she thought she had ran into nurse Brittlebone again. The unicorn in front of her shared the same colors. Except she looked far more unhealthy. Her colors were washed out. Like an artist had used to little watercolor and to much water. Her coat was almost pale and the white doctor coat she was wearing almost shone by comparison. Her stiff red mane was tied into a tight knot behind her head, and she had big black rings under her eyes. She was also constantly chewing on a needle, which rolled slowly over her teeth as she awaited an answer.

"I .. Well ... Sorry. You didn't answer."

"Its not visiting hours yet." She continued mechanically. "So if you are here about your senile grandpony or whatever I suggest you come back later."

"No! ... I was hoping I could come in."

The nurse gave her a long, tired look. She let out a long, wheezing sigh. One of her hooves never leaving the doorknob.

“You shouldn't be here little filly. Run away home. This is no place for you.”

Sweetie panicked.

“I don't have a home!" She almost shouted "I'm lost in the woods and I don't have anything to go back to!"

"What?" The nurse yawned in disbelief. "Where are your parents?" She asked, looking outside.

"I don't have any!" She shouted in desperation

“Just please, Please let me in. I will do anything! I can dance and sing and … “

-:: Be a toy ::-

“… play. I can let everypony play with me! I can let you comb my hair.” She held out a wet tuft. "It really needs combing!" she let out a dry laugh.

She began to count all possible thing she could do. Fix the roof, clean the windows, wash the dishes, do the laundry. She would work to earn her stay and pleaded for them not to drive her away before she even got a chance to prove herself.

The nurse finally looked like she was waking up from her walking sleep. Her eye twitched from growing nervosity, and she was actually beginning to back away from the rambling filly.

“Whats going on out there!?” came a stallions voice from inside.

“Its some filly boss!" The nurse shouted, a bit distraught, over her shoulder "She says she is lost.”

“Then by Celestia's sake let her in Sully! Don't just leave a pony hanging out in this rain.”

“If the boss says so.” Said the nurse named Sully, and removed her hoof from the door.

***

Food. Sweet Food.

Sweetie swallowed the sandwiches she had been given in a few big bites. They were a bit stale, having spent an unknown time in the fridge in the Staff-room to where Sweetie had been escorted. It was a small room behind the front door counter, that was currently unmanned since the secretary had gone home for the day.

Sweetie had got her soaked body wrapped in a blanket. Nurse Sully had given her a good scrubbing and told her just how lucky she was that she had come walking through this hallway, while the stallion, who introduced himself as Dr Cardiac had gotten her got something to eat.
He had even been nice enough to get her a candy bar from the vending machine that was placed beside the fridge. Then the two of them had taken their leave back out into the corridor in order to discuss her future.

Sweetie had greedily swallowed the candy bar whole and washed it down with a big glass of old milk. For the first time in too long she gave a satisfied sigh as the hunger ebbed away. If she truly ran on food or sugar she would at least not have to worry about that any more.

She picked up another sandwich and turned her worry's to the verbal tennis match outside. Though it was the tennis mach equivalent of hitting a ball against a brick wall.
The nurse asked many questions. Of whom she was, where she came from, and what she was doing out in the rain all by herself.
Dr Cardiac simply hushed them all, individually, and assured her that all things would be taken care of in time. They simply could not leave a starving child out in the cold.

“We cant have a filly running around her sir. This is no place for them.” Said Sully.

“That's all right." Said Dr Cardiac. "I will sign her in. In my name."

"Is she to become an inmate boss?"

"Clearly she wants to." He said. Then he listed of a whole bunch of diagnoses for Sweetie that went right over her head.

The nurse was quiet for a long time, then let out a long wheezing sigh.

"You know best boss, but her conditions don't change the fact that we have nowhere to put her."

"Put her in group "F"

"You mean the foals?" Sully sounded a bit distraught "I know she is young but do you really think she will fit in there? With them?"

Sweeties ears peaked. Were there foals here?
A warning bell rung in her mind. Saying that foals were the worst. they where always the first to find out about her secret. Unless her secret where already out? The warning bell rung again saying that they somehow already knew. That she had let it slip during her mad rambling at the door. She mentally cursed herself. Were she already going to be thrown into the kindergarten like a chicken to the wolves?

"It is the safest group he have." Dr Cardiac continued.

The nurse let out a heavy sigh.

"If the boss says so." She muttered.

"Good. I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Now lets go tell our guest the happy news." He said, sounding quite exited. “And Sully ... Spit that needle out.”

As they re-entered the staffroom, Sully turned and spat the needle she been chewing on out in a trashcan by the door.

Dr Cardiac looked her over. He was a slim, orange earth pony dressed in a similar white suit as Sully, which he wore unbuttoned, along with a black tie that hung a bit haphazardly. Similarly his brown mane hung a bit uncut down to his glasses. But despite the sloppy dressing he, unlike his nurse, seemed like a beacon of energy. Positive energy. There was a smile on his face and care in his deep blue eyes. Despite his glasses Sweetie felt like she could drown in those eyes. It was like he could see all the way through her, which sweetie hoped by Celestia he couldn't. But if he could he did not judge her. Rather it was like those eyes just wanted to say "everything is going to be alright."

The only thing he said was:
"Good news. We have decided that you can stay here."

Sully rolled her eyes, and muttered.

"Decided. Whatever the boss says."

Dr Cardiac only answered her sarcasm with a smile.

"Now, I have other matters to attend to, But we will talk later little one. Now If you, Nurse Sully, would kindly show her to the main gathering hall. I'll come get her when I'm done.”

Sully just rolled her eyes and muttered something about "If the boss says so." She looked over Sweetie with those tired heavy eyes of hers. Clearly Sweetie was just a burden to her.

"Before we go. You should really get rid of those socks". she said.

Instinctively Sweetie hugged herself tight. Hiding the socks in her armpits. Nurse Sully was about to object. But Dr Cardiac put a hoof on her shoulder and shook his head.

"Oh. Its one of those." She muttered, and rolled her eyes again.

Some kind of silent agreement must have been made between them, for she did not suggest Sweetie switch clothes again.

***

The sound of their hooves echoed over the checkerboard tile floor as Sully escorted Sweetie down the corridor. The place seemed desolated. During their walk towards the big double doors at the end Sweetie didn't see a single pony.

Nurse Sully wasn't very talkative. In fact, she looked like she wanted to fall asleep on the floor.

As they walked, she magically pulled out a syringe from her pocket. Sweetie was afraid she was about to attack her with some drug and drag her of to the lab, like she had seen in old horror movies about mad hospitals. But Sully brought the tip to her own tongue, licked it , then broke of the needle and replaced it with a new, sterilized needle from her other pocket. Then put the syringe back in her fist pocket.
She rolled the newly acquired needle over her lips and looked down at Sweetie. Realizing how scared the little filly seemed of her she began to talk.

”I weren't being mean when I said this place ain't for little filly's.” She said with a sigh. "I don't know what condition you have. But you seem smart enough to me. So I'm gonna give you a warning. We are not equipped to deal with real foals. We are understaffed now that half our crew has gone home for the Hearth's Warming Eve. Leaving only a bitter few of us to tend to the inmates over the holiday. Lucky us" She muttered under her breath. "And it seems like the holidays is the time when ponies snap the most. Must be the stress getting to them." She let out a long sigh "I can sure feel it getting to me."

Finally they reached their destination. The main gathering hall. Marked by two broad, brown double doors with stained glass windows in them. Sully swung them open and Sweetie got to see the playroom inside.

There where ponies playing with crayons, passing a ball to each other, sucking on bottles of milk, or rolling in some pillows. All in all the things foals are generally expected to do.

Except they where all full grown ponies.

"Yep. This is our foals. Grown foals." Sully sighed “They are your new playmates filly.”

Yes. Playmates. Sweetie understood.

Though she should be happy that there were no foals here, there simply was no joy to be found either.
Even though Sweetie (and other foals) often ask their parents and elder siblings to play with them there was something wrong with seeing grown ponies behaving this way on their own. Like how a child would never expect to walk into a room to find their dad playing with their toys.

Not that there where that many toys, or much of anything here.

There was a distinct lack of color apart from the ponies themselves, and the crayons they painted their faces with.
The whole hall was like a stale cafeteria filled with plastic round tables and chairs.
A real foals room would have had sliders and climbing frames and toys in the plenty. There would have been laughter in the air and running around. This place was silent, and everypony was kept to them self. Distanced by bored looking caretakers in wight coats walked between them and made sure they did not injure themselves by swallowing the scissors they where suppose to make paper figures of.

Those paper figures were about the only holiday related things around. Crudely misshapen pieces of paper, that only the wildest imagination could make out to be snowflakes, were collected on pieces of string and hung (by the caretakers) up by the ceiling. There they hung, like a sad multicolored testament to the imperfection of their creators.

And there really seemed to be something sad hanging over the group. Like they weren't doing what they did out of joy, but were forced to by some invisible force that - as far as Sweetie could understand psychology - existed only in their heads.
It wasn't just their behavior either. Everypony looked sick in some way or another:
There was a Pegasus with barely any feathers left on his boney wings. He constantly chewed on them, complaining about itches. An elderly mare (who looked older than granny smith) dressed in diapers and sucking on a soother while wielding a colorful maracas. And one completely clean shaven pony who Sweetie, for some reason, could not tell was a mare or a stallion, was just sitting completely still, staring at nothing.

The small playthings and papers they had been given this session only served as a meager distraction from the troubles that went on inside their heads. Sweetie knew she wanted something to distract her from the voices inside her own. And she knew she was about to receive it in plenty.

Sully escorted her into the crowd and started introduced her to her new playmates.
Sweetie could already feel their eyes on her. She was about to become their plaything.

But she did not complain. If this was the price she had to pay she would happily oblige just to get out of the rain. Beside, that colt Branch had called her a toy. Maybe that's what she was. Just a big toy for grownups and her sister.

As they moved between the groups Sweetie noticed another mare moving in the crowd. A mare that shared the same washed out body colors as Sully, except her tail was green. She wore a mouthpiece and a plastic cap on her head and she walked around the tables tugging at the other inmates, almost like the bully of the playground. Making them put down crayons or taking their scissors. Forcing the nourishing to stop sucking on their bottles and in general forcing others back down in their seats.

A mare that was ignored by Sully and the other caretakers.

Sweetie couldn't help but ask about the straying patient.

“Oh. That." Sully sighed "That is Soylent Green. Watch out for her. She is really scary."

"She is?"

"Oh yeah. Diagnosed with kleptomania that one. She would steal your very tail if it wasn't attached to you.”

Soylent spotted them and started making her way towards them. Sweetie found herself wondering if her tail could be screwed loose, and pulled it in between her legs. As the mare reached them Sweetie could see that she had green eyes, and a bit of green mane sticking out under the cap. Unlike the rest of her washed out colors those eyes were sharp and frieze. They pierced sweetie with a cold glare, then shot frozen daggers at Nurse sully.

“What is it sis?” she said in a tired yet aggressive voice. She had clearly just woken up on the wrong side of the bed, and she was gonna blame them for it. "I thought this wing was below you."

Wait? Sister?

"We have a new guest. Boss's orders that she is to stay here for the time being."

Soylent bent down. Sweetie bent her tail even further in between her legs.

"OOOoooh. Have you brought me a new plaything?"

An alarm went of in Sweeties mind. Thing? How did she know? Did those green eyes have x ray vision? Where she planing on stealing Sweetie and tug her of to some secret stash?

Sully put a hoof on Sweeties head.

"Treat her gently."

Soylent sneered.

”If shes gonna be with the rest then she is gonna be treated like the rest. Hey Brick! Put her with the others.”

One of the caretakers, a light blue Stallion, walked over.
He had a round chin as broad as his short neck, which gave him a big meaty face that for some reason reminded Sweetie of the chubby little Snips back at school. His whole built was in fact so broad that he appeared shorter and chubbier despite being the same height as the average pony. The wight coat he was wearing struggled at the seams to contain this wrecking ball of a pony.
Which made Sweetie surprised that, when he spoke, it was in a very soft - almost colt like voice.

"Ooooh. Is it bring your foal to work day? I didn't know you two had adopted."

"Don't be a prick, Brick." Sully muttered. "And why would I adopt a foal with her?"

"Because your arguing like an old married, sterile couple."

Both sisters looked at each other.

"Prick." They said in unison.

"Anyway. This is Sweetie. She is gonna stay here for the time being. The boss has already diagnosed her. Somehow."

"Ooooh. Aren't you the sweeties little thing?" Said Brick. He looked around him to see if anypony would laugh at his wordplay.

Nopony did. Least of all Sweetie. She was busy having scenes of a horror movie flashing in her mind. Movies that had portrayed a mental hospitals as some form of prison where psychos where locked away like criminals. She was beginning to see more and more of that in this place. Why else was it that an inmate could order around such a beast of a pony? Were they that scared of her?

As if to answer that question Soylent silenced Brick's weak jokes with a single green stare.

"Now. Do you have any more witty things to say? Or are you going to do what I said and put her with the others?"

"Careful sister." Said Sully, who on the other hoof seemed unaffected by Soylent's threatening gaze. "These 'others' are our patients. Not prisoners. And you could very well end up the one who gets the same treatment as these 'others' one day."

Soylent gave up a dry laugh.

"Look around you sister. We are already inmates. Looked in here with these poor sods. The only difference is we are the ones that has to keep them all fed. Besides. What are you accusing me of? I haven't touched anything in a long time."

Wait. Was this mare actually a nurse? Why was she not wearing a coat like the others?

"I sure hope not. " Said Sully "For your own sake. After all, that's why boss made you in charge of group F. So you would stop stealing everything."

"Innocent 'till proven guilty!" Soylent proclaimed in a very haughty tone. "You can't accuse me of such crimes without proof."

"Then you better hope we never find any more of your stashes anywhere."

"Oh, you care about your sister do you." Soylent said with thick sarcasm.

She bent down to Sweetie.

"Ignore my sister. She is just jealous cause I got all the looks."

"And she is jealous cause I got all the brains." Sully countered "And all the self control."

"Hey. I have been improving. I haven't touched anything in a long time."

"Not since we took your coat." Sully commented.

"That's right. You cant steal anything without pockets. Now Brick. If you would kindly put her with the others. I think it's time for my lunch break."

Soylent was about to stride past them, looking like she had won the argument, when Sully - in one swift motion - pulled her hoof through her sister green tail. When Soylet turned her head around, her sister was holding up a set of crayons in her hoof.

That was the first time Sweetie saw Sully smile. Though it was more of a sardonic smirk than an expression of accusal joy. She mouthed the silent word "Guilty" at her green tailed sister.

Soylent responded with an angry snarl. The "smile" disappeared from Sully's face and she said, very seriously:

"One more time and I'm gonna shave off your tail. You wont look so pretty with nothing but a tailbone to cover your rear."

Soylent sneered at her sister, and left.

"She is gonna be so pissed when she notices her sandwiches are gone." Sully muttered. And handed Sweetie the crayons.

***

And so, playtime began, and Sweetie let let herself be borrowed out to the slimy patients, To be played and cuddled with.

She had been asked by Brick to sit down with the other patients. He looked at her with worried eyes and said, in his soft voice:

”If there is any trouble. If they hurt you or do something you don't like. Just call out to me. I will be right over there.”

It did not take long before the others were over her with their activities.

Sweetie tried her best to enjoy herself. But found that she couldn't. Despite her effort to play along, she found no joy.
There was no joy to be found in pushing a ball back and forth with a drooling maniac. Nor was there in playing hide and seek with a degenerate who told her to hide on the same table every time. (Not under – On the table). And he still could not find her, since he only looked under the table.

Even when she was left alone, she found no solitude.
She tried to draw with crayons. But nothing came to mind. There was not even any point in making a joke about how the blank paper was supposed to be a family of polar ice bears eating sugar in a snowstorm (some other inmate had already made that joke). And the paper figures she tried to make just ended up becoming mashed together into balls of failure that she hid under the table rather than allowing to be put on any string up for display.

Why? Why could she not enjoy herself?

Had she ever enjoyed these things she were doing now? Had she ever liked pushing a ball around? Had she ever liked playing hide and seek?

No she had not. Not like this. She had never been played with before. She had played many times. But never been the plaything.
But if it was what she was made to be, then why was she not made to enjoy it?
But what toy could ever enjoy this treatment?
Her mind went to all little plushies that wear down with their foals uncaring tear. Never again would she look upon another doll the same way.

The only solitude she found was in the fact she could not feel them tearing at her. She could not feel them pulling her cheeks or mane or tail or drawing on her face with crayons in some crude attempt at makeup.

Then she was paired with another stallion, to sit and comb each others hair.

Could this be the activity Sweetie was made to like? It seemed likely. Rarity always loved brushing manes. Except it wasn't Rarity. He was a big brown stallion who had torn every last straw of his mane out of his own thick skull with his never ending brushing. One eye had a constantly shrunken pupil, and the only thing he said was a low constant mumbling:

”Pretty pony... Make pony pretty... Brushie brushie”

Fittingly, his mark was a brush with a lot of hair tangled up in its straws.

Sweetie sat in his lap as he pulled his comb and hooves through her mane and drooled over her.
Sweetie did not care. She did her best not to be there. An easy thing to do with her sense of touch turned off. The only thing she noticed from his misbehaving was the twitches in her neck from her head being jerked backwards whenever he brushed to hard.
She wondered why she could not like this treatment. Once she would have said it was because the reject barber was a clumsy creep. Now she was not as sure.

She cast and empty look over at the caretaker, Brick. He had his hooves full with making sure the other inmates did not cut their own ears off. But, from time to time his eyes swept watchful over the crowd. Always landing on Sweetie. His eyes met hers just as her hairdresser tried to pull out another imaginary tangle out of her mane. His neckmuscles tensed, as if he waited for Sweetie to call out in pain.

Sweetie did not call out.

She sat there. Lost in her thoughts. Distanced from the own body.
Was this how it was? To just be a doll? Was this how dolls felt? To be squeaked and squashed and drooled on. To be banged in the head by a big foal's maracas. (That the foal was older than Granny Smith seemed irrelevant.)

It was what Scootaloo had called her. What Branch had called her. A stuffed doll. A plaything. A possession. Was this her true purpose? If it was, then why could she not enjoy herself?

Had she ever enjoyed these things she were doing now? Had she ever liked pushing a ball around? Had she ever liked playing hide and seek? Had she ever liked to have her hair done?
If she was meant to be a toy, then should she not at least like cuddling and hugging? Why could she not like this treatment?
Was it because she could not feel any of it? Could she not draw because she could not feel the crayon in her hoof. Not play ball because she could not feel the ball bouncing off her hooves? Not enjoy the cuddling cause she felt like an empty shell?

Maybe she should turn her sensors back on. But she really, really did not feel like it. Turning them back on would be to turn the pain back on. And pain was something to be avoided. Besides, she did not want to feel them tugging and pulling at her.

Because despite not feeling anything, everything felt wrong. A feeling that came from the inside. From her heart, telling her it was humiliating, disgusting. That her playmates where so slimy and grabby, pushy and pully. That all their hugs felt wrong. That nopony could play or cuddle her the same way her family would.

But had her family not just been hugging a doll as well? How was that any different? What was to say she could only like being hugged by one owner? Sweetie didn't like that thought. That why she had left Branch. And where had that brought her? Right back into the claws of another big hoop of total strangers. So why not leave these degenerates as well? Why not say no to their touching and games?

Because, she had promised herself that she was gonna try and be the best little doll she could be. That she would not run from it any more. That she would stay, regardless of how they treated her or looked at her. That if it was the price she had to pay for food and shelter, she would gladly do it.

Besides. With her sensors turned off she could not feel anything they did to her anyway.

So Sweetie sat, with the same stubbornness as one of the CMC would undertake in their endless search for their true purpose, until Dr Cardiac came to get her. Until he made the stallion put the brush down and pulled her from his lap. By that time several chunks of pink mane were dotting the floor like fallen leafs around their chair.
Sweetie could tell that her mane was probably an even more of a mess now than it had been from the rain. The only thing that had saved her mane had been that the stallion wasn't allowed to use scissors.

She did not even look at her flank. Even if toys could get marks, she knew she had not gotten one. She felt dirty. Like she would have to wash for weeks to get the imaginary filth off her. But Cardiac made no comment about her appearance. And neither did Brick. If she really had any dirt on her, it did not catch their notice.
As they escorted Sweetie out of the main hall, they had a brief conversation about how Cardiac had used a pair of disappearing sandwiches as an example to teach Soylent Green about the fun of having your possessions go mysteriously missing.

Cardiac had dressed up since Sweetie last saw him. His shirt was now properly buttoned and his tie tucked into the collar. His mane had been combed up so that it no longer hung over his glasses and he all-in-all no longer looked like he had not just woken up in his own office... Which may or may not have been the case. It hit Sweetie just how badly she had lost track of time again. Nor did she have time to piece together the information she had of what time it might be, before the party came to a stop in front of a door not too far from the main hall.

Brick pulled a key-chain from his coat-pocket and inserted it into the door in front of them.

"Welcome to the luxury suite." He said as he opened the door. "You even get your own toilet."

The room was noting special. But not bad either. She had imagined a gray cell and a hard bed with restraining buckles. Or perhaps just a dusty locker to be stored in.

Truth was, the small room did not have much beyond a bed and a drawer. Still, the walls weren't gray but dressed in a soft yellow panel that seemed to shimmer quite warm in the relaxing light from the fluorescent lamp in the sky blue ceiling. And the floor was covered in a soft green carpet. Almost giving the room an illusion of an outdoor sunset. There was no potty on the floor. Instead there was a small door in the back of the room with a potty mark on it.

"Soylent Green is gonna be so mad when she finds out the room is taken" Said Brick. "She liked to use it as a resting place."

"Then that's two lessons she gets to learn today." Cardiac said with a smile "You can tell her she gets use the cafeteria like everypony else."

Sweetie looked to the bed, that had been made in a clinical, hospitalized way - with the sheets stretched so hard you could bounce a bit of them. At once she realized how exhausted she was. She did not care what time of day it might be. She just wanted to tuck in and rest underneath those blankets.

But before she could make it over to the bed, there came howling echoing through the corridor. Reminiscent of a dog, or a wolf, under the full moons light.

A bad memory surfaced in Sweetie's mind.

-:: Panic attack initiated ::-

Only the fact that she froze from the sound of wolves so close by stopped her from diving in under the bed.
Cardiac and Brick however, seemed unaffected by the sound of a wolf in their building.

"Oh no. Sounds like she is out again" Said Brick.

"Yes." Said Cardiac "Though its nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't have to clean up from last time she tried to mark her territory."

The calmness of the two rubbed off on Sweetie. Her fears settled as quickly as they had arrived, and the tension in her legs released. Instead, her curiosity peaked, wondering who "she" was. Unlikely that she was a real wolf. So it must be some kind of dog? Perhaps the hospital mascot. Or the doctors private puppy? Still, what kind of hospital allowed stray dogs to run around?

At that moment the sound of running hooves came down the corridor. And a second later, nurse Sully appeared in the doorframe.

"You have to come quickly boss." She said.

"Why? Is it something you can't handle on your own?" Said Cardiac, unaffected by the urgency in her tone.

Sully gave Cardiac a cold stare.

"I would love to handle it on my own" She said as she levitated a big syringe from her pocket. "But we both know this is your mess. Since you're the one who let her out again."

Cardiac let out a sigh. Still, the smile never left his face.

"You are right. And I take full responsibility for anything she might have done. Now, where is she? Out pillaging the kitchen while the chefs are on holiday?"

"Ironically she has not left her room." Said Sully. And with that she turned tail and walked back the way she came from.

Cardiac and Brick followed her. The later muttering something about "as usual" before taking note of Sweetie again.

"Hey. What about the little one? Is she one of those its safe to leave?"

Cardiac looked back.

"Oh, she can come ... " his deep blue eyes locked with Sweeties for a second. "... If you want to. I promise its not dangerous."

Sweetie weighing their options for a second. They had not locked her in the room, and he had given her the choice rather then telling her what to do. She looked back to the bed. Suddenly she didn't feel tired any more. With that she followed the others out into the corridor.

***

The howling came a few more times as they walked down the corridors. Judging from the strength of the sound it must be a big dog. Even if it was not a wolf.
As they walked the needle of Sully's syringe found its way into her teeth. Cardiac told her to spit it out. Which she did into the next trashcan they passed, and then called Brick a prick over some snide comment he made over her being obsessive compulsive.

Finally they turned a corner and ended up in a long corridor. At the end of the corridor was a door. And the door stood slightly open. From inside came a ruckus. A crash as something big was tipped over, then the sound of fabric being torn to shreds. A puff of stuffing and feathers came blowing out the gap in the door. The thing inside howled again. Whatever kind of dog it was it must be big as a pony to create such a commotion. Sweetie started to regret her decision. She did not fancy ending up a chewing toy for some wild beast (again).

Next to the door stood was another, anxious looking caretaker. He eased when he saw Cardiac.

"Glad you could get here boss. "

"You did the right thing in sending for me."

Cardiac pushed the door open. It slowly swung inwards. The howling turned into growls as the occupier, who sat in the corner, noticed them.

It was as big as a pony. Because it was a pony. A mare in pale turquoise fur, dressed in what appeared to be some form of unbuttoned restraining jacket. (Sweetie had a good idea of who had unbuttoned it). She sat next to a tippled over bedframe. Her mane and tail, which was the color of aches, Looked like they got an everyday special service trim by the local drooling hairstylist, and they were currently full of white stuffing from the torn up mattress. The fabric of which she clenched between her jaws.
Her eyes glowed red as she glared at the ponies gathering in the doorway like they would suffer the same fate as the mattress if they approached. She gave a low warning growl from deep inside her throat. Her lips curled back further than Sweetie thought was possible, showing of every tooth in her yaw. (Teeth that were also full of stuffing) Teeth that surprisingly were not sharpened to those of a carnivore, as Sweetie had almost expected.

The others visibly recoiled as she growled at them. They did not dare to enter the room. But Cardiac did. Unamused her detached himself from the group and walked straight up to that werepony of a mare.

"No girl, What have you done now?" Cardiac said with a big sigh. His tone more disappointed than anything. "I trust you to behave yourself and this is how you repay me?"

The bad meaner left the mare as through a spell when Cardiac entered. The growling and deadly stares disappeared and she started waging her tail (causing more stuffing to get dispersed into the air).

"Bad girl! BAD!"

The mare hung her head and whimpered.

"Let go of the mattress now girl!"

The angry growls returned. The mare got up and started rising her shaggy back in an aggressive pose. She began circling the Doctor - still dragging the remains of the mattress along with her. Still - her tail wagged happily behind her, even as she got a challenging look in her eyes.

"NO! I'm not playing with you!"

Sweetie detached herself from the others, daring to push her head out from between the legs of the grown ups. Taken by the spectacle. Never had she seen a mare act a dog so convincingly it made her wonder if it was a dog dressed as a pony.

"Who is that?" She asked.

"That's Screwloose." Said the unnamed caretaker "Maddest pony I've ever seen."

“Yea. She sure went barking mad after she lost a few screws” Said Brick, looking around to see if anypony would laugh.
The only response he got was the other guard mumbling “Prick.” Sully just rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Sweetie asked. "Did she go like this after she lost a bag of screws?"

Sully facehooved.

"No." The caretaker answered, As far as I've known she has always been like this. She was like this when she got here, was sent from Ponyville hospital she was. Not that it seem to have made her any better."

"Whats wrong with her?"

"She's angry with ponies for one thing” Sully answered.

"No that's just you." Said Brick. "Truth is she is usually quite nice, if you treat her right. Scratch her behind the ear she will love you for the rest of your days. Does tricks for you even. Like sit nicely, roll around and shake your hoof for sugar cubes. She even fetch sticks." He said with a cozy smile."

The other caretaker shook his head.

"You are not suppose to do that Brick."

"Sure she might reply nicely when we treat her like a dog. But that's not how we care for our patients. We are supposed to be helping them. Make them better ponies. Not encourage their delusions."

"Not that anything has helped." Sighed Sully. "We tried everything. And she just does not respond to our treatments. "She continues to behave like a dog. She reacts to everything like a dog would do. Even a few vets we invited cant differentiate her psyche from that of a mare or a dogs. We try to teach her to behave like a mare, and she just got confused and aggressive."

"It was like trying to teach a dog to sit at the table and eat with a spoon." sighed the caretaker .

"Actually I think a dog could be trained easier then her." Sighed Sully.

"I'm starting to believe that there really is a dog trapped in a pony's body." Said Brick.

Sweetie looked back at the the mare named Screwloose. As they talked she had started a tug of war with Cardiac over the fabric of the mattress. Stuffing flew like snowflakes as they danced around the room. She pulled with her mouth, shaking her head violently as she braced herself with all four legs, while he used his forehooves to yank in the fabric. Eventually he ha gotten close enough to give her a smack on the nose. She eased up in defeat and let go of the mattress
He hurled it to Brick and told Screwloose to follow him. Everypony turned their backs and walked back out into the corridor except Sweetie. Who was still spellbound by the mare. As she walked to the door with her head hung in defeat she locked eyes with Sweetie for the fist Time.

Instantly her interested peaked.
For a while they just stood there, as the others turned back around wondering why they weren't following. If she had thought about it Sweetie would have wondered why no fear overcame her. But she did not think. She just kept looking into those eyes.

Screwloose slowly approached Sweetie. Her head hung so their eyes where leveled. Brick walked to stop her. But Dr Cardiac raised his hoof and stopped him.

The two of them just stood there. Staring at each other. Then she sniffed at Sweetie a few times, then She licked her on the cheek, and then started rubbing her own cheek towards hers. She laid down in front of Sweetie and tilted her head. The eyes that looked up on her was the genuine saddest Sweetie had seen in a while. Without a word she lifted her sock dressed hoof and started scratching the mare behind the ear.

Screwloose hummed in enjoyment. But she did not roll over so Sweetie could scratch her belly. Instead she sat back up, a sorrowful whimper entering her tone, and slowly stretched out her forehooves. Wrapping them around Sweetie and pulled her into a hug.

Unlike all the other inmates. This hug did not feel wrong.

-:: Initiating cry sequence ::-

Sweetie hugged the mare back as tears started to escape from her eyes and fall onto the mares white jacket.

Screwloose whimpered in tune with Sweeties sobs, and rested her cheek on Sweeties head. Sweetie could not feel the hooves around her. Could not feel the mares fur tangle with her own. Could not feel her mane squeeze under the mares chin, nor her head resting on top of hers. She could only register the pressure as her neck shifted from the weight. And it was not heavy. Screwloose did not use her a a pillow. She was hugging her with all of her body. Even her ash gray tail made its way around Sweeties back.

Their sobbing was joined with a trumpet fanfare. Both mares looked up to see Brick with a handkerchief to his nose and tears in his eyes.

"What are you crying about?" The other caretaker asked.

"I don't know, I really don't know!" He bellowed.

Cardiac exchanged looks with Sweetie and Screwloose. His face flat and judging. Screwloose's ears were flat to her head, and the look she gave was pleading.
Without a word being spoken he gave a nod.

"Let them be for the time being. Watch over them. Provide for them. And when she is done, you can show her to my office," He said.

With that, The staff finally provided them with solitude. Cardiac closed the door, ensuring that the caretakers would remain outside in case she needed something.

"Outside the door, Boss?"

"Yes. Give the two some privacy."

Sweetie was so glad she was allowed to remain in Screwloose's forehooves. She did not know why. But she really really wanted to feel this mares embrace.
That want was strong enough to send a signal to her body functions processor, telling them to released the grip of the failsafe on her sensors.
Slowly one of Sweeties five senses came back to her. And she became aware of the shaggy blue fur that pressed against hers. Aware of the pressure of Screwlooses forelegs around her. Aware of the rising and failing of her chest as she drew breaths. The slow steady beating of her heart against Sweeties cheek. Aware of the moist from her tears.

It was like waking up and becoming aware of the bed you slept in. Sweetie could not believe how much she missed this sensation. It almost made her forget why she ever had turned it of in the first place.

Screwloose's embrace was the best bed she could have woken up in. Despite that the buttons of her wrinkled, hard jacket dug into Sweetie's flesh. Despite that the stuffing and feathers made her eyes itch. Despite that her smelly, unwashed fur was so shaggy and tangled.
(Sweetie could not imagine she smelled too good either.)
Well. At least there was something that could be done about that.

Sweetie knocked on the door and asked if they could have some water and soap - preferably in a big tub of some kind.
They did eventually get a big metal dishing bowl delivered from the kitchen, just big enough for one small pony. (The caretakers must have been quite sturdy to carry it without dropping to much of the water.) With it came some soap that smelled that it was meant for the dishes as well. And with that the door between the couples were closed again.

Sweetie helped Screwloose out of her restraint jacket. Her fur was so sweaty and shaggy underneath that it almost stuck to her like a Velcro. In turn she helped Sweetie out of her socks.
It took all of her will not to shy away as Screwloose slowly pulled the sock of her right foreleg. She forced herself to remember the promise
she told herself. To stay no matter what happened. Glad was she that there was nopony in the room but mare could not speak. But she could bark. And the ponies outside probably had their ears to the door.

She steadied herself for the reaction as her injured foreleg and the metal structure underneath slowly was exposed. But Screwloose did not bark nor bellow. Unlike all others she did not look at all surprised. Unaffected she gently peeled the sock all the way of the hoof and put it away.

Sweetie deflated even though she did not let out any breath's. She exposed looked back and forth between the mare in front of her and the exposed gears of her damaged foreleg. The two wires she had torn out of herself dangled uselessly from the side.

"Yes... That's me." She said with the heaviest of non existent sighs, and gave the loose wires a punch with her other hoof.

"Is this why you liked me? Because I'm a doll? Or is it because I'm not one of those stupid adults? Or do you like me because I'm not a pony?"

Screwloose's ears flattened. She sniffed cautiously on Sweeite's leg, specifically at the red edge between skin and metal, And licked it as if to clean it. She looked back at Sweetie and whimpered. Her eyes seemed to hold the deepest concern. As if to say "you poor little thing" before She bent forward and tenderly licked Sweeties cheeks clean of tears.

Then she took Sweeties foreleg in her hoof. And before Sweetie could figure out what had happened she had taken the loose cables and reattached them.

"How did you ... ?"

Screwloose simply smiled, and pulled her into another hug.

Despite how bad she felt about exposing her secret, Sweetie allowed herself to relax. Because Screwloose did not judge her for the metal under her skin.

***

The hours slowly flowed past as they sat there and enjoyed each others presence. The bath had been much welcomed, despite the simplicity. Sweetie went first as she was small enough to fit in the bowl. She had nothing to pour with but used the socks, which she drenched and squeezed over her head. Screwloose did not fit in their tub. But got to hold her head over the edge as Sweetie squeezed her socks over her mane. Then they scrubbed each other with a brush (that at least seemed to come from a real bath). Screwloose was very accommodating, even if she did shake herself like a dog afterwards - sprinkling water over the whose room.
At least the moisture helped the dust and stuffing to settle.

They had brushed the stuffing to one side of the room and then sat combing each others manes. Sweetie believed she got most of the tangles out of the gray mane and tail, even though she wasn't allowed any scissors to get rid off the worst bundles. When she was done, the blue mares hair hung in long gray streaks that almost reached the floor. It was quite surprising how long her hair was, once sweetie had untangled the bird's nest of her mane.

Screwloose did Sweetie's hair as she laid in her lap. Sweetie even dared leave her senses on. For this time it felt good and relaxing. Screwloose was so tender in her movements. Never pulling nor tugging as she pulled the comb through Sweeties main and tail. Despite not being a hairdresser, she did a far better job at restoring Sweeties shaggy pink mane and tail than her previous barber. Screwloose even managed to give them back some of their former curls.

***

Rarity could not care less about curls.

Nor did she care about her shop, or her clients, or the status of their orders.
She - who normally cared so much for her business and appearance - did not even notice the damage nor cared about the state of her products.

The only thing that mattered was Sweetie Belle.

It had been a mad dash from Ponyville. After waking up from her seizure, she had flown into a frenzy. Screaming at Twilight that they had to leave now. That they had to go after "them."

She was absolutely convinced that "they" had been here. That "they" had taken Sweetie and that "they" would do not-even-Celestia-knows-what to her. Never did she specify who "they" were to Twilight beyond that it was they who had done this to her boutique.

Telling her to act rationally was all that Twilight could do to make Rarity take a few steps back, take at least a few hysterical breaths, and think. That Sweetie was missing did not at all mean that somepony had taken her. She had said herself that she had run away. And might be hiding somewhere.

It was all Twilight could do to hold her friend back and at least get some rain suits.

Rarity had ran through the boutique in a speed that would make Rainbow dash impressed, Quickly collecting everything she thought necessary for a rescue mission. completely oblivious to the state her shop was in.

She, who always packed so much, had taken less than a minute to cram all the bare essentials into a pair of saddlebags and get a pair of hooded rain suits, a purple one for twilight and a blue for herself - complete with some matching rubber boots for their hooves.

Not that they ended up matching. She, who normally cared so much about fashion and could take hours dressing herself, was in such a rush that she mixed up the colors as she put the boots on.

Rarity did not even close the door as she bolted out of the Boutique. It would have remained open to all the weather if Twilight had not magically slammed it shut behind her.

Twilight had been about to tell Rarity that they had no idea where they would go. But just as they ran out into the rain, they ran into Rarity's parents. The pair had been heading back to the Boutique with some happy news. They had found somepony who had seen Sweetie. While looking around the outskirts of town, asking if anypony had seen any run away foals, they had found a helpful soul.

The happy news was quickly drowned out by the terrible news of the raid on the Boutique. Rarity quickly filled in her parents on her suspicions. And her horror was flooded over to them. It took Twilight to act cool and rational to get the others to calm down. Rarity had handed her parents a pair of normal yellow rain suits and Sylvester's hats. One of the things she had stuffed down her bags in some form of precognition. Mr Belle had in all comedy put his rainhat on top of his strawhat. And they had all hurried back to speak with this witness of Sweetie's whereabouts.

Towards the western outskirts of town, before Sweet Apple Acres took hold, there was the Wagon Warehouse. (Or "The double-double-ew as Pinkie called it. Or tripple-ew since it was the "western wagon warehouse". Or quadruple-ew as it was run by an elderly Mr Mcwheely, or simply "Wheely" as some called him - In which case it was the "Wheelys-Western-Wagon-Warehouse". Pinkie had stopped using the nickname quadruple-ew after she realized that saying it made it sound like the place disgusted you times four. At which point it was back to being called the Double-W)

It was a large barn-like building, that functioned like a rent and repair shop for wagons and chariots of all their kinds. Its service was loosely connected to the local postal office and cab service due to them seeing the most need for wagons and repairs. But anypony could rent a wagon here. Due to the small size of the town, there were usually no reason for most to have their own personal wagons, save for the Apple family, and fewer had any place to store them. Thus, this barn had been built.

Mr Mcwheely rarely saw any business at a time like this. It did not mean business was bad. On the contrary, every market vendor pony had needed to store their wagons due to the weather. And he got payed a good bit for keeping them trimmed up. By the end of it, he was gonna make a tidy sum out of it before the snow started falling. Money that would be spent on new oil and stuff to fix up the snowplows that were stored in the back.
Yet he refused to close simply due to bad weather. What if somepony needed a cab or something?
And as it was to happen, some ponies did.

He had explained to Twilight and her gang that he had seen a few little foals running past his warehouse today, including a white little filly, who ran like the speed demon was behind her, had been heading out of town on the western road. Unlike the others she had not returned.

Who had returned, on the other hoof, was the Pegasus.

The Pegasus he was talking about had come walking into town from that western road, panting and wings hanging limp from his sides like he had been flying a mareathon. A while later he had come back with his unicorn friend and asked to rent a wagon.
Twilight had asked what they looked like. And Mcwheely gave the description of two strangers, stallions, clearly not from around town. A yellow Pegasus and a dark blue unicorn.

Upon hearing this description, Rarity had flipped. Without giving any further explanation she had simply stated "IT'S THEM!" And immediately wanted to bolt down the western road. She had been utterly convinced that's where Sweetie was heading. Why else would "they" Journey off into the same direction? If nothing else, they had to go after them. Rarity was sure they knew something about Sweetie.

Needless to say, it was not long until they were of in a wagon of their own. Rarity had at first refused to allow them to take any cab or chariot as it would be pulled by somepony else. She had utterly refused to involve anypony else.

Twilight had manage to convince her to at least take a private wagon. Apart from having something to shield them from the rain, it would also be a lot faster and save their hooves from running all the way in the mud. (And it would give her friend somewhere to rest) There would be no need for a pony to pull it. Twilight would make it move on her own using her magic.

"Don't you go around doing that to much." Mcwheely had said "if ponies figured out how to make wagons run all on their own some of us would be out of a job."

Twilight had promised him she would keep it a secret. (It would not be the first she promised to keep that day). Besides, she doubted many unicorns had the strength to make a wagon move for as long as she did.

As they drove out the west end of town, they nearly had ran into Cheerilee, who was on her way back from Sweet Apple Acres
She told them she had spent a good amount of time searching through the Acres for Sweetie. Sadly without results. The only thing she had seen was a pair of stallions pulling a wagon running past her as she was scouting the outskirts of the Acres near the road. She wondered who was crazy enough to be driving in this weather. Again the description of the stallions was of a yellow Pegasus and a blue unicorn.

Rarity had been on the verge of panic. But Twilight used this information to calm her.
It meant that "they" did not have that much of a head start. And since they had left town so shortly after vandalizing her Boutique, they could not have caught Sweetie. Since Sweetie had left town far earlier. And if they had caught her, then there would have been no reason for them to break into the Boutique.
And it was looking more and more unlikely that Sweetie had returned to the Boutique herself.

It seemed to ignite at least some spark of hope in Rarity.

It also ignited another thought in Twilight's mind. If "they" had been watching the boutique. Maybe they had seen Sweetie leave and failed to catch her? The panting Pegasus came to her forehead. What kind of filly could outrun a grown pony? A Pegasus for that matter?

They had said goodbye to Cheerilee. She had been asked to join them, but declined since somepony needed to take care of the children here in town. She also confirmed that Sweetie was not hiding in Sweet Apple Acres, she had checked that place herself. She then wished them luck and made them promise they would bring that little filly back home. With that, Twilight had steered the wagon out west. Down the road that led to White Tail Woods.

As they rode, Twilight took the opportunity to scratch that itch in her mind and ask Rarity's parents some more about Sweetie. The information had been sketchy at best, (and still as unbelievable as it had first sounded). What they basically had told her was that Sweetie was made to be just like a real filly. The setting in her systems were hoof-tuned to be true to life. Even so, Twilight had to ask if there was any possibility that she could break those limits? Could a malfunction like the one Rarity described short circuit her settings somehow?

The Belles had to admit that they did not know. Neither did they know what capabilities Sweetie's mechanical body could hold. As such, they had no way of calculating how far Sweetie might have ran.

"Were you not informed about the progress on your daughter?” Twilight had asked.

Mrs. Belle had seemed disturbed at the question.

“Its true that we did almost not understand most of anything about what they put in her. we were just in the way most of the time. But even so it seemed like they got progressively determined to keep us out of the experiment.”

So they had no idea what kind of stuff they might have put in their daughter, Twilight had thought. once again the thought of laser eyes had filled her mind.

“I don't know why." Her husband had said "But the ponies we went into that place with were not the same ponies we fled from later.”

Twilight could only wonder if such a project would literally drive you insane? She wondered if that's why Frankenpony had seemed so mad in the novel. Was it madness to tamper with the essence of life? Even if one neglected the thought that the essence was something holy, one were still playing with the essence of life.
A small life that nature had neglected, it seemed.

She suddenly understood why the Belle's had used so called “secluded” sources. Because no doctor nor hospital would ever agree to do what they had done. It went against every code of practice.

It had been hours before they reached the outskirts of White Tail Woods. The road had been simple to follow, a single path leading into the bare trees. Sadly they were alone on the lonely road. They had not caught up with anything. Twilight could only wonder how long Cheerilee had searched through Sweet Apple Acres for the time difference to be this great.

The only thing they had eventually run into a crossroad. The road split up like a "Y" in front of them. Whatever signposts that might have indicated what laid down the roads must have blown away. Or simply never existed in the first place.

There was no tracks to indicate which way another wagon might have taken. The roads were too hard and too well kept for wagon wheels to sink into. Never had Twilight thought she would curse the well maintained Equestrian roads.

They had to split up. Twilight and Rarity in one group - Mr and Mrs Belle in the other.

They decided to let Rarity's parents have the wagon. Twilight would be able to shield Rarity and herself from the weather with her magic. Besides, the two youngsters were far more fit than the elderly couple.

In turn, Miss Belle had something to give them. The rough crystal that was to be Sweetie's heart. Rarity did not want to take it, but Miss Belle insisted. Not just in case they found Sweetie first, but so that Rarity could work on it, in case something came back to her.

"Keep it close deary, and maybe things will surface for you if you do. Besides, I trust you to take far better care of it than me."

Twilight did not understand why they had to bring it in the first place. Just how pressing was the matter of the ticking time limit on Sweetie's heart?

“Don't worry. There should still be plenty of time left on her Heart-Drive.” Miss Belle said ”We would not wait to the very last moment to replace our daughters heart just in the nick of time. Although …"

"Although what?"

“The doctor said that extreme emotions would put more strain on the heart.”

Rarity had almost panicked.

“She is out there somewhere alone! What could possibly be more of an emotional strain than this!!??”

***

That had been at least a day ago.

Twilight did her best not to think about the time. Doing so only made her think of how long Sweetie had been out here, in the rain, cold and alone.

The cold was beginning to get to Twilight as well. She and Rarity had been running for hours, before being forced to slow to a trot, and eventually stop altogether. Rarity had wanted to continue but Twilight insisted that they make camp and get some rest, or else they would both drop dead. And none of them would be able to help Sweetie then.

Now they sat around a small campfire. A small roof made of branches and sticks hung suspended in the treetops over their small camping site. Twilight had made it after she had felt the strain of her rain shield becoming too great on her horn. Her head throbbed as much as her legs, and she knew she had to conserve her energy less she would risk burning herself out, both magically and physically.

Twilight tried to calm the headache by going through the transpired events in her head. It had all happened so fast, she could not believe it. (Partially because she did not want to believe any of it). Now time seemed to drag endlessly. And the sulky weather and the even sulkier mood did not help her recover. Not even thinking about what Pinkie had said about the "W" helped. It only made the absence of the rest of her friends that much more obvious. She wished they could have helped. Wished she had time to contact them. It would have made searching the forest that much easier. But she had made a promise of secrecy to Rarity. And Twilight knew she had to follow her as she ran out of town. She could not leave this mare on her own. Least of all when she was like this. If she had not been here to hold her friend back, Rarity might as well have run herself into ruin.

Twilight wondered if the others would have liked camping in the rain? She had read the scout's handbook on camping. That's how she knew how to build a shelter and a fireplace. Lighting it with magic had been easier than the various earth pony tricks the book instructed on, and she had also thought enough to magically dry the ground around them before putting their blankets down. If only something could be done about the cold. The fire provided little warmth, and if not for her raincoat she would have been freezing. Her thoughts turned to the fabric as she pulled it a little tighter around herself.

It was carefully fitted with warm stuffing on the inside with such a hoof made quality that it perfectly fit her form. Hugging her like a woolly sweater that protected against cold as well as rain and wind. Twilight suspected that her friend had made this just for her, perhaps as some sort of gift. Now that gift was being thrust into her face.
She tried not to think about how Sweetie had no raincoat. No food. No fire. By Celestia's mercy, a filly could freeze dead in this cold! That was... if a robot could die.

She looked up at Rarity. This was not the time to ask such questions.

This was not the time to ask any kind of questions at all. Twilight could not help but feel like she had drawn the short straw on the informational part. Every time Rarity was asked to remember something of her past it seemed to physically hurt her. Twilight even had the horrible thought that these strange ponies in her past might have done something to her to make her forget. Perhaps they had done it to all of the Belle's? Perhaps that was why they could remember so little about that past. Or maybe they had done it to themselves? How? Had they taken amnesia potions or something?
Twilight shook that thought out of her head.

"Please Rarity. Eat something."

She magically levitated over a can of beans that she had held cooking over the fire. (Another thing that Rarity had stuffed down her bags in her split second packing was food) Twilight had assumed it was for Sweetie Belle. As well as the thick blankets they now sat on. She wanted these things to be for wrapping the little freezing filly into. Wanted the food to be for the hungry little mare. Wanted it all to be to comfort the runaway filly on the spot. Because she wanted them to find her immediately. They should not have been needing to look this long. Nor should they have to compete with a pair of mysterious ponies from Rarity's past. Nor should Sweetie have gotten this far without turning home. No filly should have been able to run this far. Twilight had to assume she might have gotten lost in these woods. Lost in a body that was no longer operating the way it should. She shivered at the thought.

Rarity did not touch the food. She sat with the rough crystal in her magical grip. The crystal that was suppose to be Sweetie's new heart. She spun it around, just staring at it, as if doing so would somehow make it reveal its secrets. Alas, nothing happened. Twilight had never seen Rarity like this. Her eyes seemed so hollow, so distant. Black circles had started to form under those eyes, and Twilight knew it was not leftover mascara.

"If you are not going to eat then at least get some rest. We continue the search tomorrow."

"How can i possibly sleep knowing that my poor little Sweetie is somewhere out there? Cold and alone. No, you get some sleep Twilight. I will take the first watch."

"Watch for what?"

"For Sweetie of course! What if she sees the fire and comes to investigate."

Then I'm sure she will wake us up, Twilight thought. But she did not say it. She did not want to risk shattering the small glimmer of hope in Rarity's eyes.

Truth was sleep would not be easy for Twilight either. The nightmare she now found herself in while awake would surely have an effect on her dreams. And the worry she felt for Sweetie and for herself made her heart weigh so heavy it almost touched the ground as she laid down. And the questions, so many questions spun in her uneasy mind. Twilight did the only thing she could, and started go through the events again, to sort out the thoughts, catalog them and count them again and again, until the thoughts themselves carried her off to the mental bookshelves in the dreamscape's library.

Rarity remained sitting upright. She stored the heart-stone away in her saddlebag, and then stared out into the darkness of the forest. Stared with the darkest eyes.

She whispered. Softly enough as to not wake her friend, yet loudly enough as to be heard by the forest.

"Oh Sweetie, where art thou?"

Author's Note

I based Dr cardiac on this character from Madhotaru's Deviantart page:

http://th08.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2013/135/c/7/the_breakfast_by_madhotaru-d65duts.png

Except Cardiac is an earth pony in this story.

Screwloose should need no introduction (I hope).

The word "Mareathon" towards the end is not misspelled. I just thought it would be a funny wordplay.

Chapter 9: Recoding

Sweetie sat comfortably in Screwloose's lap. Her thoughts running through her head as the mare combed her mane. And those thoughts spilled out on the paper in front of her. Some drawing materials had been provided at her request after the caretakers had removed their improvised tub. And she had finally been able to get some color and shapes down on paper.

The drawings resembled the thought swirling in her head. Thoughts that kept returning to what Brick had said:

"I'm starting to believe that there really is a dog trapped in a pony's body."

She looked up at the mare, and shared her thoughts with her.

"What if you really are a dog? Trapped in a pony's body. That must be really confusing for you."

She started drawing Screwloose on a new piece of paper. A crude silhouette in light blue crayon which the then filled with the same color. She dotted in the eyes with a mix of pink and red (which was the closest she could get to Screwlooses eye-color) and topped it of with a mess of gray crayon. The mane and tail looked more like the bundled mess the mare had before than the long, well combed hair she had now. (Sweetie never had discovered any talent for drawing) Lastly she drew the mark.

She stopped herself, and looked back at Screwloose.

Her mark was a single metal grey screw. A loose screw.

"I can relate. It feels like I have a screw loose."

Sweetie wondered what kind of talent that could represent. It could not really mean that her talent was to be disturbed. Or could it? Was her mental disturbance such a deep part of her character that it depicted on her mark?
Was her mind like a screw then? Something that could be set in a plank? And twisted around, in and out. What did the plank represent? The body? Who held the screwdriver? Who or what made her the way she was?

As she thought she drew these things. The drawing becoming messier as her thoughts ran faster than her hooves could draw them.

If the screw was the mind. Then the plank it should be screwed into should be the body. But what it the screw did not fit the socket? What if it was the wrong screw altogether? And now it laid there. Distanced from the body. The wrong body. Where had that screw come from? And where did it belong? Was there another screw out there that had ended up in the wrong socket? Or in other words. Was there a pony's mind in a dogs body?

"How could that have happened?" she asked. "Maybe it is like the mind of a dog that has accidentally ended up in a pony's body?"

Sweetie looked up at Screwloose. The mare just tilted her head at the question.

"You are a dog. Yet you look like a mare. And everypony wants you to behave like a mare. Even thou you're not."

She looked down on her paper again. Above the crude abomination of Screwloose she had drawn a big screw - pointing into the mares head. and from the screw she drew a rectangle, like a big price tag, in which she had drew the silhouette of a dog. A hollow transparent silhouette of a dog. A ghost dog. A dog's mind. A spirit.
Next to it was the drawing of a dog with a screw sticking out of its head. and in that screws price-tag was the silhouette of a pony.

She pulled out a new piece of paper. and started drawing herself. (She had to outline her silhouette with a gray line since white crayon on white paper doesn't show very well). Green dots for eyes and pink swirls for mane and tail.

"I am a filly, who is trapped in a doll."

She drew a screw in the filly's head. (it almost looked like she had a big gray horn). and on the price-tag she drew the silhouette of a filly.

She looked at it and wondered. Where had the screw for the doll went? Was there perhaps a filly who had ended up with the mind of a robot? hat would a mind of a robot even look like? She drew a second filly opposite to the first one, with another screw in her head. And in this price-tag she drew a toaster.

She picked up the drawing and looked at it. somehow - intentionally or not. Bout fillies had ended up looking the same. white with green dots and purple swirls. She wondered, was this the real Sweetie Belle? The body she should have been in?

She pulled out the other drawing and placed them in front of her. The one of Screwloose and the dog and the own of the two fillies.

"We have something in common." She said "We both think we are one thing. But we are in fact something completely different."

"Why do we have the mind of something else trapped in our bodies? Why has the mind and body gotten swamped up?
Do you think there is a dog somewhere out there with the mind of a pony?" (and is there a filly with the mind of a toaster, she thought)

She received no answer.

"You are a dog, yet they want to treat you like a mare. They still look at you like a pony. But me... they don't look at me like a pony. Why? Why are you more pony them me? I look like a pony and think I am one. But when people find out that I'm not they treat me different.

She sighed and sank back into Screwlooses lap. the mare put the brush away and gave her another hug.

"We are something. Yet we want to be something else. And for that they call us crazy. For that they look at us like we are different. they think we are not who we are because we are not who we are supposed to be or something.
Why cant we be treated the way we want? Would it not be great if everypony treated us the way we wanted to be treated?"

She looked up into Screwlooses eyes. The mare simply whimpered in response.

"I sure think so."

She looked back at her drawings. At the silhouettes in the price-tags. They looked like ghosts.
And ghosts were like spirits right. Spirits that could posses other things. (that's how it worked in the movies at least.) And if there were spirits and ghosts, were they not also souls? Some said that ghosts are simply souls. The essence of a creature that has yet to travel to the ever after.

A thought flashed through Sweetie How could the screws and minds get mixed up?

What if ghosts really had possessed the wrong kinds of bodies and given them the essence of something else? What if they were souls that came back from the ever after and ended up in the wrong kind of bodies? She had read about reincarnation when she had tried to get her mark in philosophy. Some of the philosophers had said that a creature could be born as something else in their next life. Sweetie had thought that it must be weird to end up in a body unlike the one you were used to.

“Have you ever felt that you are trapped in the wrong body?" She asked Screwloose.

Sweetie used the pictures to explain.

"It's strange, is it not? You are a dog in a pony's body. Does that mean you have a pony's soul or a dog's soul? Can you be one thing but to have the soul of another thing ? "

She looked up at Screwloose, who could only smile in return. Sweetie did not know if she could understand anything she said. But she listened anyway. (In a way she felt like the best speaking partner Sweetie had ever have.)

"They say that all living things have a soul. Like a ghost within. And the soul looks just like us. When they die on film the soul and ghost is always the same shape as the body." (she had seen horror movies where even the dog died. And the dog's soul looked just like the dog.) "Dogs have dog-souls. Ponies have pony-souls. So does the soul always look like the body?"

"Do you believe the soul is shaped like the body? It's weird, is it not? When you die ... will your soul will look like a dog "

She put this thought on paper. And found the imagery of a dog ghost that rose up out of a pony body quite amusing.

"Or will it look like a pony? Regardless of what you were in a previous life you were born as a pony, and have have a pony's body after all."

With that logic, she was a pony herself, because she had a pony's body. But her body was a machine. And a machine could have been made to look like anything. She looked back at the toaster in of the drawing. Would she then have a toasters soul? What if she had been a toaster that they built on a pony. Did machines had souls and spirits as well? Did dolls toasters go into the ever-after when they expired? Did toys come back as other toys when they reincarnated?

***

When the caretakers came knocking, Sweetie had donned her socks again. She had been careful not to let anyone but Screwloose see her mangled leg. She cursed that she had lost one sock. It just looked silly having one naked leg. She pulled that one of her. The socks on the front legs were necessary for symmetry. But the one on the back leg just felt obsolete.
Brick made a quick comment about just that thing before (with another witty comment) reminding her that Dr cardiac was waiting.
Sweetie would not have mind staying longer with Screwloose. But the thoughts in her head felt like they needed to be spoken.

Screwloose obviously felt sad seeing her go. So Sweetie figured she do one last thing for her.

She tore up the seams of the sock, and tied the fabric that had once been a scarf into a ribbon that she attached to Screwloose's mane. It was just a small bow, that dangled from her long gray mane. Yet she treasured it like it was the nicest gift she had ever received. So enthralled was she by it that she just sat staring at it as Sweetie left.

The caretakers commended Sweetie as they walked down the halls

"You got her to behave more like a mare than we ever could. "

They arrived at a unpainted oak door decorated with wood panel and a small brass copper plate that read:

Chief Psychologist Cardiac Candlewick

“And here we are at the Craniac's office.”

Brick laughed at his own pun.

“Get it? Its a combination of the word cranium and maniac that sort of sounds like the boss's name, sine he likes digging around in skulls so much.”

When Sweetie gave no answer, other than a deadpanned, tired look, he diverted his eyes in uncomfortably.

“You should just go in now.” He said.

Without knocking, Sweetie pushed the door inward.

Doctor Cardiac office was pretty well decorated with lost of older looking furniture of oiled oak-wood, complete with wooden panel and galloon suited chairs. The walls were filled with Pictures and images of varying age. Some old hoof-sketches. Some black and white images and some modern 2-D models in color. All of them of the pony brain or some patient.

Cardiac himself was sitting at his desk, looking anxiously at some pictures and some form of gemstone in his hooves. As Sweetie entered he quickly put them down. A smile appeared on his face as he gestured for Sweetie to sit down in the big armchair in front of his desk.

Caretaker Brick excused himself and closed the door as he left. leaving Sweetie and Cardiac alone.
He thanked her again for what she has done for Screw Loose.

"She is one of our most extreme cases, and usually does not open up to strangers that fast. You must have something about you that makes people instantly like you."

I also have a lot of things that makes people instantly hate me. She thought.

"If you want I can schedule some more time between just the two of you. I have the feeling it will be good for you both. What do you say?"

"Yeah. Maybe we can go outside and play fetch."

Cardiac laughed a little. That sort of sincere laugh parents use to give when they think a child is being so delightfully ignorant.

"No. I was thinking more along the lines of today. Staying inside, the two of you, combing your manes and drawing and so forth. Your mane looks good by the way. I didn't think Screwloose capable of that.

The compliment was a bit lost on Sweetie.

"I'm sure she is good at many things … If you just let her."

"I'm sure about that too. And I'm sure you can help bring those out."

"So why won't you let us go outside."

“Well. Its cold outside.” He said with that serious laugh. “And I don't think its a good idea for you two to be playing fetch.”

“Why?” Sweetie asked.

Cardiac shook his head.

“I doubt you understand much about psychology, child. but when somepony believes they are something they are not it's called a delusion..."

Delusion. The word swirled in Sweeties head as Cardiac kept talking. Cause what did that say about her? Was she delusional in thinking she was a pony? Was she insane for thinking of herself as such? It could not be her fault. Not when she had been raised under the “delusion” that she was what she was. What if the same was true for Screwloose?

“ … We are not to encourage their delusions. That could make her situation worse than it already is." He sighed "A mind is such a fragile thing. It may break, if mistreated."

"So why do you treat her wrong?" Sweetie asked. "Why are you trying to get her to do things she does not want? If she is a dog, Should she not be allowed to be one?"

Cardiac chuckled.

"She really have a dog's mind. And many other traits of canine too. Did you know she has an unusually strong sense of smell? And is able to track and differentiate between others by that sense alone?"

No. She did not know that. And did this not prove her point?

"What if she really is a dog? On the inside?" Sweetie stubbornly stated.

"Well. That would make things a little difficult." Cardiac sighed. "For she is clearly not a dog on the outside. She has the body of a pony. But it seems as if she can not accept it."

“What if it's everypony else who should accept who she wants to be?”

Cardiac eyed her for a moment. And Sweetie got that uncomfortable sense that he could see right through her.

"I think the proper question is: Should we not try to get her to accept what she really is?" he asked.

Get her to accept what she really is... Sweetie pondered those words. They weighed heavy on her mind and made her head and eye level drop. Her eyes fell upon the Pictures on Cardiac's desk. Even thou seeing them upside down she clearly recognized Screw Loose in all of them, with her skull shaved clean and the nastiest wound in the back of the head.

"What ... What happened to her?"

That worried, sad look returned to his face.

"I wish I knew. We know so little about that mare. And she refuses to tell us. Other than in barking of course. But none of us speaks dog.” He said with half a sincere chuckle.

“You … don't know?

“No one really knows where she came from, there are no records of enrollments from before she ended up here. No one has submitted her or claimed her. We have searched for any related relatives, but no one have answered. She just showed up in the town of Ponyville one day, sniffing in the garbage cans in search of food. The poor thing was starving and dirty. She had managed to make herself the pack leader of a small band of stray dogs. She certainly caused some rumors of a Were-Mare in the areas where people had glimpsed her."

Sweetie got flashbacks to Branch and Beaver.

"Truth was she was probably more scared of everypony else than they were of her. And she expressed that fear through rage. She was almost savage when they caught her. Still is, to some degree. I can only imagine why, since she probably ran away from somewhere. For wherever it was, I can not imagine it was somewhere good."

A sequence in Sweetie's mind made her body go tense. And goosebumps started to form under her skin.
Her eyes were drawn to the elongated hole in the mares neck. Like the tongue would be drawn to a broken tooth. It looked like one could fit a whole gemstone down there.

“Are you saying somepony … did this to her?”

Then she noticed the other thing on Cardiac's desk. The thing she had thought to be a gemstone. But it was no gem worthy of the name. It was a flat circular object. A small blue disc with a few wires sticking out of the end and a red edge of what looked like dried blood along the other.

Cardiac must have read her facial expressions.

"Yes. She had this in the back of her head. It required extreme procedures to operate it out of her. Since it was more or less wired into her brain."

“Why?”

“I wish I knew. I don't even know what this thing does.”

“You don't know what it is?”

“Oh I know what it is. Just do not know how it works. It is some sort of crystal that seems meant to either read, change or amplify brain waves through electricity. That's what we guess the wires were for."

He tapped the pictures of the nasty head-wound.

"Those wires where sticking out of the back of her head. Hidden under her hair. We did not even know they were there until we did a proper examination. It must have been connected to some-form of devise. Possibly electrical.
Several unicorns have examined it, but no one can understand what it really does. No unicorns have been able to get a read on it. It gives off no magic signatures. So it can not be magical in nature. Yet I have never seen a devise like this. Though it appears to have a crystallized composition I've never seen a crystal like this. It seems almost unnatural. ”

He pushed the disk over the desk towards her. Not knowing why, she picked it up in her hooves. A small ounce of curiosity drove her to do so. She could not explain why, but for some reason it seemed familiar. As if part of her brain knew what it was, and it demanded that she investigate further. Perhaps it was the similarities yet differences to a crystal that drove her curious. The sides of the circle shaped object were completely flat, and held none of the shapes normally seen in a gemstone. Yet it had the same cold feel like one. The surface was smooth like glass. And she thought she could see some form of pattern inside the transparent blue thing.

“It seems that whoever did this was preforming some sort of experiment on her." Cardiac said. "She must have managed to free herself from whatever device she was connected to, and got away." He shuddered, and pointed to the wires at the end. "By the looks of it, she torn it off by force."

Looking closer, Sweetie could see that the cables did indeed look torn. Thin copper wires were sprawling sticking out of the short ends.

"What we first thought was dried blood is actually a piece of the brain. Merged with the crystal. If you look closely, you can see the nerves go deep into the crystal ... "

Sweetie held the disk up towards the lamp. She could indeed see tiny threads of nerves running up into the crystal. The red area was hard and gravely. Crystallized in nature. The the further in the little tiny threads got, the smaller they became. Sweetie slowly lowered the disc towards her eyes to be able to study the details in the transparent crystal.

"It seemed as if someone was trying to reprogram her. Without any respect for the psychological process," he sighed deeply. "And we believe the resulting brain damage was how she came to be the mare she is today."

Cardiac's words were becoming distant to Sweetie. Her entire focus was on the device above her. On the tiny red lines inside it. They were not simply clustered together in the red area of the disk but continued upwards. They seemed to stretch over the entire disk. Lines so small they were almost incomprehensible to her eyes. In order to focus she brought the crystal further down.

"It seems like torture for me. The electric chair would had been more gracious." He sighed again. “A miracle that her brain was not grilled."

Sweetie was no longer listening. As Cardiac drifted off into his own thoughts Sweetie drifted away into hers.
She continuously brought the crystal - disk - thingy closer. It seemed to call to her. Hypnotized her with its lines. Lines that ran back and forth and crossed each other in a pattern more complex than the greatest spiders web.

She brought the disk even closer. Her eyes somehow not growing crossed from nearsightedness.
As everything else became blurry she was still able to focus on the microscopic lines that ran through the device. She watched, entranced, as they merged halfway with the equally thin copper lines from the wires stretching down from the other end, and merging into something in the middle. Neither nerves nor wires.

Unknowingly she had brought it closer and closer towards her horn.

As the crystal touched the tip of her horn a small electrical charge, that had unbeknownst to her been building up in her horn, triggered. It jumped out of her horn, bounced around inside the crystal disk and back into her horn. All in the span of a millisecond.

-:: Compatible component recognized ::-
-:: Connection established ::-
-:: Download information ::-
-:: Compatible energy recognized ::-
-:: Transferring information ::-
-:: Synchronization with systems ::-
-:: New data Loaded. Running record ::-
-:: Registering new information ::-
-:: Pain ::-

-:: !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! ::-

She screamed. But no sound left her mouth. Her throat had ceased up, as had every muscle in her body. Tensed to the point of breaking. Her yaw was locked and her eyelids were stuck wide open. And Everything was red. She saw red. Her eyes were cooking in her skull. It felt like they would at any moment melt out of their sockets.

She did not know how she knew. But the pain had gone on for hours! But now it seemed even worse.
She heard voices. And saw movements, somepony was moving in front of her, but it was almost impossible to register them through the pain!

“TALK TO ME!”

One voice rang out above the others. Rang out to her. But she could not answer. Not with her yaw seized up.

"Tune it down. Let her speak."

The pain decreased somewhat, but it was always there. It rushed through her head. Buzzed like a million flies that tore through her brain.

Only now could she actually thick clearly enough to notice on her surroundings. She was sitting on something hard and cold. Her bloodshot eyes fell down upon the restraints tying her forelegs to the armrests of a metal chair. And she had something on her head. No. Something in the head. And it made her hurt! The buzzing was horrifying.

In front of her stood a mare, she was just a blurry haze to the bloodshot eyes in her skull. Just different shifting colors of red. Even her thick round glasses seemed to shine with blood.

“I know you can talk. I know you can understand me very well. SO STOP BARKING LIKE A DOG AND SPEAK CLEARLY!"

The voice was so impatient. So unsympathetic. Yet she felt such love for that unknown, harsh voice.

-:: Voice sample recognized // Loading attached emotional file ::-

She loved that voice, loved the strange mare it was attached to. Loved it like a mother. But it hurt her. Hurt her so bad!
She tried to tell her. Tell her how much it hurt. But the only thing that left her mouth were dog like whimpers

"Come on. Just speak to me."

The mare sounded almost longing. It made the feeling of love increase. She would have waged her tail if she had any energy left. It hurt just to breathe. She had to pant for several breaths, and struggle through the buzzing, just to get a sound over her lips.

"Woof, woof."

“WHAT?!”

"WOOF WOOF"! She barked. Louder so that the mare should hear.

“Again. DO IT AGAIN!”

Whatever longing there had been in the mares voice instantly disappeared. Somewhere a cranking dial was turned, and the buzzing increased again, stronger than last time, and a new wave of pain washed over her with even greater intensity.

-:: // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! // !PAIN! //::-
-:: Pain levels reached maximum endurance setting // Activating Failsafe ::-
-:: Recoding redacted//flushing system ::-
-:: Initiating fainting protocols ::-

***

"... What happened?... "

"... I do not know! She just looked at the disc and then she had a spaz attack! ..."

"... Give her a sedative syringe ... standard procedure ..."

Voices. voices from far away. From the other end of the tunnel. Voices
No. It wasn't a tunnel. It was a well. A well she was on the bottom of.

Slowly she began climbing Upwards. Towards consciousness. As she ascended she regained more and more of her senses, and was becoming aware of her surroundings. She was lying down. She could not tell on what since her skin-sensors were offline. But through the blur in her eyes, she could make out a white ceiling that had not been in Cardiac's office. And she could make out the blurry figures of a few ponies who stood over her.

“ ... Sully. Spit out that needle! ... ”

She recognized the sound of Cardiac's voice. And clearly that tired red haired nurse was here. there were also other voices she could not place. What were they doing to her?

" ... Sir. I'm trying to do a brain scan spell ... but I get nothing from her. It's as if she's not there. ... "

" ... NO MAGIC! I've told you countless times ... "

"... Doctor! ... She's not breathing! ... "

Panic. Where was the setting for breath? Had it broken? What if they thought she was broken? What if they thought she was dead? What if they threw her away or buried her! Where was that stupid switch!
No thinking about that now. She had to get out of the well first. She had to get back up and show them that she was not dead.

“That's Enough! You are choking her. Give her some breathing room. Everyone Out! OUT!”

She managed to get her hooves on top of the well, an pull herself into consciousness just as Dr Cardiac sent a pair of nurses out of the room, and slammed the door shut behind them.

Sweetie shot up into sitting position. She would have gasped for air, but she just could not find the switch for her lungs. She would have screamed "I am not dead" But no sound left her mouth. She was muted by the situation she found herself in. She was in some kind of small infirmary, sitting on a big green hospital bed. Medical instruments were piled up around her and she had almost hit her head on a big bright operating lamp that had been pulled down over her.

There were so many questions and fears that arose from this situation alone that Sweetie could not single out any one of them. She looked down on her chest. And found it almost a surprise, that she was NOT cut open and dissected. not even her socks had been removed from her forelegs.

Dumbfounded she looked back up at Cardiac. And found herself drowning in his deep blue eyes.

Eyes that were pressed up against her face as Cardiac ruched to her side so quickly that Sweetie was knocked back down in bed. He put both his forehooves over her as he leaned in over the bed.

Sweetie almost panicked. He was sure to ask questions like “what are you?” or “why are you dressed as a pony?” she was gonna have to run from this place to before they dissected her. She started kicking at the mattress with her back legs, trying to get away from under him.
Then she realized with even great distress that she could not get away. For he had just loked her in the room with him!

”What did you see?”

The question shattered her trail of thought.

He asked again. Softer this time.

“What did you see?”

Sweetie looked up at him. Only now did she see the concerned in his eyes. The worry and sorrow. The same look he had for Screwloose. A wounded and worried look of a pony who wants to help with all his heart but knows he can not do anything for them. She looked around and saw that he was not pinning her to the bed. Rather he was standing over her, as if trying to shield her from all the worlds horrors.

”You touched the blue disk in my office, and then you had a seizure. were barking like a dog in my office. Do you remember anything of what happened to you? Just nod if you do.”

Sweetie nodded.

“And do you wish to share what you experienced?”

“They... Hurt me..." She stammered. "Hurt her I mean. They hurt Screwloose. They sent electricity into my head ... Into her head.”

Dr Cardiac backed away with a look of utter horror on his face.

“Shock therapy. I suspected ... but never knew ...”

He looked back at Sweetie. His blue eyes were becoming even bluer as tears formed upon them. He climbed up in the bed with her and pulled her tight into his chest.

"I'm sorry" He stammered "I'm so sorry"

Even though she could not feel it. Sweetie knew that she was shaking. Her lips quivered and her voice was becoming more and more unsteady as she tried to speak.

"They ... They did not want me ... her to bark like a dog. And they hurt her ... "

-:: Initiating crying sequence ::-

“It hurt. … it hurt so much.”

It all crashed back on her. The moment had been so brief, yet so intense in had burned its way into her memory. She had felt that pain as if it was her own. Experienced it with every fiber of her body.

She broke down in Cardiac's lap and screamed.

***

Sweetie cried. For herself and for Screwloose, and the horror they had experienced. Her tears flowed until Cardiac's coat was soaking wet. And when she had run out of tears she blew her nose into his tie.

“Oh! I'm sorry!” She said when she noticed the mess she had made of Cardiac's clothes.

“Its okay. Though I would appreciate if you would use some paper towels instead.” He said with a forced laugh.

He directed her to the bathroom door on the other end of the medical ward. Insisting that they both needed some cleaning up after their little session. He himself was going to redress the issue of his soaked coat and re-dress into some clean clothes that were available in the ward.

Meanwhile, Sweetie locked herself in the bathroom, and stared at the toilet seat. Sweetie did not know if she needed to pee or puke. She was too shaken from all the pain she had experienced. She climbed up on the toilet to reach up over the sink, and stared into the bathroom mirror. A wreck looked back at her.

The filly in the mirror had big black rings under her eyes. Eyes that were red from all the tears she had shed. Her face was stained with snot and damp tears. And her white coat had turned so pale it was almost a miracle one could not see the gears underneath. Sweetie did not know when she last looked into a mirror. She did not want to believe that ruined filly in the glass was her. But she knew it was.

With a heavy sigh she lowered her head, ready to throw up in the sink. Then her eyes caught the shimmer a small sharp object that had almost been flushed down the drain but gotten stuck over the tiny hole.

She recognized it as Sully's chewing needles.

Sweetie took the needle in her hoof, and stared at the sharp pointy tip. She remembered a similar situation back home. and how much such a small object had hurt.

Pain. No pain. Once she had associated that with the difference between alive and dead. Between living tissue, and cold dead metal. Now that line was becoming blurry.

She made sure her pain sensors were still off, and brought the needle down on her already ruined right leg. She stung herself above the sock. This time the needle went down through the skin without much trouble. It was almost fascinating how little force it took to pierce the skin. She continued to push downwards until she came to a hard stop. She knew she had hit steel bottom. She twisted the needle around making the hole slightly bigger. Blood pooled up from the wound, but she felt nothing. She washed the wound clean and looked down into the hole. She could just see the faint blue light of whatever magic that was repairing the scratch she made shine up through the wound.

Just to be sure, she did the same on her left leg. With the same results.

Sweetie pulled down her sock and stabbed herself right in the red edge of flesh, where the net of wires where woven into her skin. She put the needle in under the skin, and using a small metal pipe as a lever base, she bent it upward.

There was a soft, tearing noise as the skin separated from the metal network. She looked into it to confirm what she already knew. The synthetic muscles continued up under the skin.the framework was colored red where the roots of the tissue had attached to the metal.

She tried to lift a little more. Then just a little more again. When the needle became insufficient she took a firm grip with her left hoof and pulled. Slowly she tor a patch of the skin away. Rolling it upward like it was the sleeve of a sweater. She eventually hit a nerve-cluster. She watched closely. So closely that she had put her right hoof up against her cheek so her eye would end up leveled with the leg, to watch the separation as the knot was torn from the red little crystal in the wire-work. It was like pulling moss from a rock. Or weed from the garden. As the last little tine root snapped the crystal went dark and a Voice in her head told her that a sensor had lost contact and gone into standby.

Suddenly there was a loud banging on the bathroom door.

“Are you done in there?” Cardiac asked through the door.

"Yes." She answered. She was done... Done with ... What was she doing anyway?

She let the needle fall. Making sure it went down the drain this time. She washed away the blood and wiped herself clean before pulling the socks back on.

"I'm coming.” She called out.

Before leaving, she looked back at her reflection one last time, and forced a smile. She did not look that bad after all, she told herself as she dragged a hoof through her hair. Screwloose had actually done a pretty good job of restyling her mane and tail. The pink curls reminded her that she could still look like her old self.

***

As they walked back to Dr Cardiac's office they talked about Sweeties short, but painful experience in Screwlooses memory.

“Doctor. Why would anypony do that to her?” She asked.

"I don't know." Cardiac sighed "I guess they were using shock therapy in an attempt to rewrite her. I always thought the experiment turned her into a dog. But from what you are saying, it sounds like it was the other way around. Whoever did this did not want her to be a dog. They were trying to cure her."

He stopped and wiped both his glasses, and his eyes, off on the sleeve of his new coat.

"To think that she might have been like that before that experiment. I wonder if it made her better or worse. Poor, poor thing."

“But why not use a spell?” Sweetie asked. "Surely a bit of magic would have been way more effective, and way less painful."

Cardiac sighed.

“You might as well ask why we all don't just use magic to make our patients sane.” He sighed. “I wish it was that simple. Magic can be effective. But it has its limits. You can't treat a mind like you treat a wound. If they have been born with their condition, it's part of who they really are.”

“Like a handicap?” Sweetie asked. Her thoughts went to Scootaloo. Whose underdeveloped wings simply refused to grow, despite what stimulating spells and herbs had been applied to them.

“Yes. Said Cardiac. "Its a chronic condition affecting the pony's very inherent magic structure. Any medicinal spells or potions would be canceled out by their inherent magic, since the energy structure thinks there is nothing wrong with it, and reverts to its original state. Likewise, a “mad pony” with a mental illness can not be cured by magic. Mental illness isn't some foreign disease that suddenly attacks the brain. Its really a part of their personality. A trait that has been wired into their brain. A mental shortcoming that hinders the pony from functioning, just as bad as if they had been born blind or limp."

Cardiac drifted of into his own little lecture.

"Even if their condition is not chronic it can be just as serious. Like a stallion taking a bat to the head. They could medically heal him in a jiffy. But the brain-damage he suffered could change his personality. Or it could be some horrifying experience, that gives them a mental scar. While you could remove that scar by memory manipulation, its not really fixing the problem. Just hiding it. Celestia knows there are many who have tried to come up with magical cures for madness. But magically meddling with the mind only causes far more damage than it solves."

"Why is that?"

“Because. To truly change somepony's personality, they would have to alter their very core. Permanently rewrite the brain chemistry. The real, horrible reason for shock therapy is to alter the electrical signals in the brain. Perhaps they were experimenting with some kind of mind technology. I've also heard of experiments were they try to use magic to rearrange the synapses." He shivered.

"That is why I have forbidden all use of that kind of therapeutic magic in my hospital. It really is no different than brainwashing."

Sweetie's ears peeked. How did you wash a brain? Did you use soap and water? How did you wash inside the ears? Did you lower your head underwater and shake it around? Did you shake up the... what was that word again?

“Synapses?” She asked.

“Yes” Said Cardiac, as they reached his office. “In every brain there is synapses. You can think about them as microscopic wires that trade information between each other using electrical signals. The brains circuitry, if you will.”

He opened his office door and gestured for Sweetie to sit down again.

He the walked behind his desk, where a big billboard with a picture of a brain hung on the wall. A huge lump of wrinkled biomass that had been divided up into different colorful sections. Cardiac went on to explain about the different parts of the brain and how they controlled different parts of the body and mind. How some areas became extra active when we were feeling certain emotions, Or use different body parts.

Most of it went over Sweetie's head. She felt like she was back at school. And on that note, there was something she wanted to ask. Something that she had never gotten the chance to ask in anatomy lesson back home.

“Why is it so wrinkled?”

Cardiac smiled.

“Well you see. The brain starts out as nothing a smooth lump in the unborn fetus's head. As the brain grows, it wrinkles. And those wrinkles are what help us think. For it's down in these wrinkles that the true wiring of the mind happens."

He illustrated this by drawing a series of small circles on a piece of paper. Then filling all the circles on one half of the paper with a plus symbol, and the other half with a minus symbol. He told her that the smooth paper was like the smooth surface of an undeveloped brain. He then folded the paper together. Making the plus and minus symbols come in contact with each other.

"Every wrinkle on the brain is like these folds." He explained "Its here the synapses comes in contact with each other and complete the circuitry."

He smiled.

"No two brain are the same. Every brain develops its own wrinkles. Like a circuit board being randomly plugged to run differently every time. some might have a much more active love section, and become really friendly ponies. Others might have a really active logic section, And become super smart. Others might have a really good memory..."

The list of examples went on and on.

"Simply putt, since all brain's wrinkles are different, we are all different."

Was that really all there was to a pony? Wrinkles and synapses? What about magic? Or the soul?

“What about the heart?" Sweetie asked "Doesn’t your feelings come from your heart?”

“A common misconception." Cardiac said "The heart is all but a muscle that pumps blood. All emotions really forms in the brain Didn't they teach you this in school?”

“Then why does it hurt so much... When you are sad?”

Cardiac sighed and corrected his glasses.

"While its true that all emotions emanates from the brain. Those energies then send out signals that affect the entire body. Strong enough emotions can cause us actual, physical pain. Making you feel like you have a broken heart.”

He went on to explain how the brain triggers reactions in the body, in responses to different circumstances. The way he put it it made it sound like ponies were little more than a set of chemical reactions and electrical triggers.

Sweetie began to ponder what her own brain looked like. Just what was that giant screw in her head made out of?
Did she have a real brain, with wrinkles? Or was it just a collection of circuitry boards and wires instead of synapses?

Nature might randomly wrinkle every brain naturally. But an artificial brain would have to be hoof made. Did that mean that whoever had made her, had also made her brain? Even if she had a brain made entirely of metal, somepony would still have had to mold the wrinkles in place. Had that been left to random chance? could it be? Or did it mean that by designing her mind, they would have to make all the things that made her who she was?

-:: Anxiety attack // Shivering sequence initiated ::-

Was her personality just a series of wires, connected to the most convenient ports? If the mind was like a flow of electrical energy, then that similarity did not seem too far off. And did that mean that her personality could change by the flip of a button, or the reconnection of a wire?

Was there anything about her, from her personality, her habits, what she found funny or sad, even how she thought was cute or ugly. Was there anything that was her own? Or had somepony else just made all that up and put it in her head?

Could you really make all that up?

Could her family have picked an organic brain to be implanted into a robot doll? Or had they picked a bunch of settings that determined her personality? Had they chosen to make her love candy, and hate sauerkraut? Had they chosen who she hated ... and who she loved?

Sweetie found herself shaking. The Voices were telling her she was also sweating, and grabbing the edges of the chair with more force than necessary, And would be hyperventilating if she could. She had to let go of the armrest, and tell the voices to stop doing what they were doing to her body.

Too late. Cardiac had already turned his attention from the billboard, and noticed her behavior.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

“Doctor. Do you believe that you can force somepony to love another?” She asked. Forcing her voice not to shiver.

“Well... no.” Cardiac answered with a nervous laugh. Then he looked at Sweeties serious face, and swallowed.

“Well. There are spells and potions made to make you love another.”

“But isn't that like altering their personality with magic?”

“Not really. Any hypnotic spell are generally only meant to do one thing. To make the victim do whatever the caster was thinking of at the time. These spells can be cast either on the victims themselves, or an object, to make them behave towards in a certain way."

Sweetie remembered the love doll incident. When twilight had snapped and put a spell on a old ugly doll that made her - her friends - and the whole town go crazy over it.

Sweeties thought stopped dead in their tracks, and rewinded. She really had been affected by that love spell just the same as everypony else. Despite not being like everypony else. What did that mean?
Well for one thing it meant that her eyes could absorb magic. And that magic energy could affect her mind.

Energy that, as far as Cardiac had put it, had altered the signals in her brain, and told her mind how it was supposed to behave. Like it had flipped some switch inside her. Or created a new setting entirely.

Did that mean that the settings and programs in her head were like spells? Was she maybe spellbound to behave the way she was?

Cardiac continued.

"More advanced spells require the hypnotist to make up more and more of the victims behavior.
Eventually they would take so much control that the victim becomes a living puppet, with the puppeteer needing to control everything they do. For no spell really changes who a person is. They are still themselves underneath the control of the spell..."

Are they? Then was there a real Sweetie somewhere in her? Somewhere underneath all these programs and sequences?

" ... And any spell can be undone. All hypnosis spells generally needs to be renewed, else the victim starts fighting back. Unless the spell is so subtle that the victim does not notice it."

So subtle that she does not notice it? Or simply a big wall of ice, that had kept her from hearing all the voices and commands in the back of her head?

" ... Potions also wear off over time. It's nothing more than a drug that alters the brain chemicals. Real love is something I believe can only come if the pony themselves really want it.”

If you really wanted it? Did she want to love Rarity and her parents? Yes! Said her heart. She loved her mom, dad and big sister. She missed them despite of what they had done to her. She was so homesick she could puke. But what if that was all just some control spell-program? One so subtle that she had not noticed it?

That thought was followed by something else. A desire. A need.
She did not want to be controlled. She wanted to rid herself of any controlling programs or spells that might be affecting her mind. But how?

If her mind was filled with command spells. Then maybe there was a spell to undo them. Or maybe if she just resisted them long enough they would wear off.

"So. Is it impossible to change a pony?" She asked.

"Not at all. Said Cardiac "Every pony can change. We change as we grow up. We change when we discover new things about ourselves. The best, and only, treatments is just a matter of getting round to accept the change." His eyes once again got that deep, hypnotic look as he eyed her over. And he added: "But we should not rush headlong into new things. Too fast of a change can be devastating. Like a bat to the head.”

Some part of Sweetie's mind told her, from experience, that she used to giggle at the thought of bats to the head. But not anymore. She had changed. A lot. In just a few days she had gone from a happy normal filly to the wreck she was now. She felt like she had been hit in the head by a wrecking ball. Perhaps it had all happened too fast. Perhaps all this had damaged her somehow.

-:: Systems check //... Scanning ... // No internal damage detected ::-

That system was not helping. Perhaps there was damage it did not know of? Perhaps the system itself was damaged? Or perhaps had never worked properly to begin with, but thought it was working like it should, because it had always been that way? Maybe the once who made it had made a mistake?

Sweetie could not ask herself if she was broken. Of course the voices would say there was nothing wrong with her. She needed to ask somepony else. But how to ask without giving herself away?

“Doctor ..." She carefully began "Have you ever felt like you woke up one day ... and been something different?”

Cardiac gave her a questioning look. “Can you elaborate?”

“I mean... Have you ever felt like you suddenly found out that you where something that you weren't before?”

She mentally kicked herself. She had probably said to much already!

Dr Cardiac sat down in his chair, and leaned back.

“Well yes." He said, half dreamy "I have had many life changing moments. None of the least was the day I earned my mark.
Before that day I didn't know who I was, or what I was.
I mean, I thought I was gonna be a million things. I once pictured myself as a linebacker. My gym teacher said I could tackle so hard I gave the other players cardiac arrest. But one day, that all changed...”

Once again both Sweetie and Cardiac drifted of into their own thoughts.

The day Cardiac had earned his mark had changed his life.
Sweetie thought about her own mark. Or lack thereof. Her lack of just a basic purpose, or a function, left her feeling hollow. How was she suppose to know what she was meant to be, when she did not know what she was programed to be?

She only knew that she was not supposed to change, or find her true self in the first place. there had been a big spell in her head that had prevented her from finding out who (or what) she really was.
Even though that frozen wall had fallen away, her brain was still full of programming. Sequences and spells that directed how she was suppose to behave.

As long as they were there she would never be able to find her true self.

She buried her face in her hooves. Small sobs started to escape from her.

“Do you want to tell me what you are crying about?” Cardiac asked, with some level of concern.

“Its just... I'm never going to find out who I am.” she sobbed.

“Yes you are.” Said Cardiac. “For I believe that everyone already know somewhere deep down what they are. It just takes a little outside perspective to get to the realization.

That did not make Sweetie feel any better. She had never known what she was inside. And if it was not for the accident she never would have found out either. Then she would have gone through her entire life as a blank flank, never knowing what horrific truth lurked within.

She buried her face even deeper in her forelegs. She would probably have started sobbing even harder if the office door hadn't opened at that moment.

"Oh ... you're here." Came the melancholic tone of nurse Sully. "I see you have already recovered."

Sweetie did not answer, nor did she look up from her hooves.

There was a moment of silence before the voice of nurse Sully spoke up again.

“Excuse me. But we are about to hold a musical session in the main hall, and it happens that the old gramophone has broken down. So we need somepony's who can sing for an audience. And you did tell me you can sing.”

Sweetie looked up. Yes. She had said that.
She looked over at Dr Cardiac. Who nodded approvingly.

“Yes. I think we are done here for today. You should go with the nurse, little miss."

“Talk about me like I'm not even here.” Mumbled said nurse.

Upon those words Cardiac did turn all his attention to Sully, And the needle in he mouth.

“Sully. Spit out that needle.”

“Yes Boss.” She mumbled.

Sweetie got up from the chair, and walked with Nurse Sully out of the office.
It looked like it was time for the doll to do another performance.

***

As she walked along the empty halls, Sully repeatedly played with her syringes, and started chewing on a new needle to replace the one she'd spat out in Cardiac's garbage can. Sweetie decided to break the eery silence.

“So. Is it forbidden for unicorns to use magic here?”

Nurse Sully gave her a tired look and the needle rolled over her teeth.

“We do have magical restraining devices for the unstable once, so they don't hurt anypony.”

“I mean, for the doctors?”

The needle made another lap over Sully's teeth.

“No. Forbidding a sane unicorn from using magic would be like forbidding a Pegasus to use their wings or an Earth pony to use their hooves.”

"But... Dr Cardiac said he forbade the use of mind magic in his hospital. Is it true?

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Sully rolled the needle over her lips again. (She seemed to be doing that every time she thought about something)

”To prevent us from making a bad situation worse for the patients. We unicorns would always attempt to magic the problem away. But that's a short term solution, and can cause more problems than it solves.

"So... You don't use any magic at all?"

"That's not entirely true. We could always use a mind delve spell to dive into the pony's mind to try and see what the problem is. But that's dangerous.”

She rolled the needle over her lips again.

“But the boss. He has this way of just looking at a pony and somehow know what is wrong with them.”

The needle made a sixth lap before she became aware of its presence. The thought of Cardiac apparently reminded her of his words. She spit the needle out in the next garbage can they passed.

“You should be careful about where you put your needles Mrs Sully.” Sweetie said. “Somepony might get hurt.”

***

The main hall had been redecorated since Sweeties last visit. All the tables had been moved away to make room for a lot more chairs. And a lot more ponies. It was no longer just group F, but a lot of other patients, and personnel, perhaps the whole hospital, that had come to share in this musical session.

Or to be tormented by it (depending on your point of view). As they entered the hall, they were assaulted by the worst harmonica performance Sweetie had ever heard. The current contester in this musical tournament was a lime green stallion dancing back and forth on his back legs while holding a harmonica in his front hooves. The tunes he blew on that instrument made Sweetie flatten her ears against her skull.

The saddest part about it was that his mark was that of an harmonica. It made Sweetie wonder if loss of talent could lead to madness.

Despite the noise, Sweetie could not help but overhear the conversation between two other nurses. She barely recognized their voices as the ones who had woken her up in the medical wing.

"... are you telling me she resisted the mind scan spell?" Said the earth pony nurse.

"Not so much resisting as not responding at all." Said the unicorn . "I could not get in contact with her mind. "

"It's just like with that disc."

"Is it really true that she got something from that thing that we didn't How is that possible?. Just who is she?"

"I don't know. but The boss seems to have taken a personal liking to her ..."

Both nurses went silent when they saw Sweetie. Sully shot them a cold glare, and they both turned their hooves around and walked away.

That look they had worn on their faces. That distrust and alienation. It was like a knife in Sweeties chest.

How long? She wondered. How long was she gonna be able to stay before those looks became unbearable?
How long before they chased her out with pitchforks and torches?
How long before her ears bust from the horrible harmonica play?

Thankfully the stallion was soon escorted off by Brick. Equally thankfully was Sully that this was not a stand up performance. Else that prick would have assaulted all their ears with his horrible puns - She mumbled as she walked Sweetie to the front of the gathering and introduced her to the crowd.

Sweetie took to the center of the stage - which was just a thick stack of phone-books on the floor. Once it had been stage fright keeping her from singing to an audience. Now stage fright was the least of her concerns. It was no longer her voice she was ashamed to show. She corrected her socks and stepped up on the phone books. Fully preferring that they all saw Sweetie the singer and not Sweetie the robot.

She was feeling too down to make up her own lyrics. So she selected an old song from memory. A song she had been taught on a snowy day many winters ago. It felt fitting with a winter song, given the season. Even if the rain pattered against the windows.

The song that flowed out of her mouth carried a happy, uplifting tune that did not mach her mood. Maybe that was just the power of music? If only that power was her own, she thought. Then she might have been able to earn her mark in singing.

Sweeties mouth continued to form the words of the song. But her thoughts went elsewhere. They went to how she would never get a mark in singing. To how she would never get a mark in anything. To how she would never discover her true purpose. Not unless she could rid herself of these voices and spells controlling her. She wondered if there was a way to wash her brain clean of all those things and start again with a mind of her own. A mind free from shackles.
Only then would she be able to find something she was really good at, at her own.

Maybe then she could get a tattoo. Or a brand.

The song continued to play over her lips about winters past and Hearth's Warming Gifts. Sweetie could no longer remember what she had wished for herself this Hearth's Warming Eve. She could not understand how she could remember every lyric of this song without even thinking about it. She could not understand how it sounded so happy, or why her voice wasn't hoarse and sour. And she couldn't understand who was doing all that screaming.

Wait! What?

The sound of Screaming snapped Sweetie's attention back from the depths of her thoughts and directed it out into the crowd. One of the patients. A butter yellow mare with milky white hair seated in the back row had started screaming at the top of her lungs. She was flailing like mad and had already managed to trow her own chair forward and hit an elder mare that was sucking on a soother. The old mare was knocked over and started crying like a foal and made a big smelly spot in her diapers. Caretakers were already trying to get a grip on the screaming mare. Brick got a back hoof to the chin for his troubles. Nurse Sully and a few others ran to calm the crying elderly foal and several others in the crowd.

Meanwhile, Sweetie was in her own silent turmoil. How had she not noticed that screaming before? How had she not noticed the mare trowing a chair forward?

And why had she not stopped singing?

-:: Playback in progress // Audio file selected :: The 12 days of hearths warming eve // Lip sync on automatic ::-

Sweetie just stood there. Her eyes nearly going cross as she tried to look past down her own muzzle, to see her own mouth moving and singing like possessed.

-:: Panic levels increasing // Replay stopped ::-

By the time they had dragged the screaming mare away and restored order in the mess hall, Sweetie had already bolted away into her own room.

She threw the door shut and dove into bed. She burrowed herself under the blanket.
What had just happened? How could her mouth just start singing on its own? Was this the control spells starting to take her over? She wanted them out of her head. Now! She had to silence them before it was too late.

She almost started banging her head against the wall. She almost ran into the bathroom and flushed with her own head in the toilet. She almost did a lot of things that would have been hurtful, until she remembered what had happened back home.

She did not want another breakdown like that. She had just barely kept herself from attacking Rarity that time. Deserve it as her big sister may have. Who knew what Sweetie would do, if she had another system crash?

She could hear her heart pumping like a drum roll in her ears, even though she could not feel it in her chest. She could hear the voices warning her about the rising pressure her mood-swings were having on her systems.

She took a few imaginary deep breaths to try and made her heart stop running.

The desire to stop her heart was almost immediately met with silence.

Silence as her heart stopped.

-:: Heartbeat simulator entering standby mode ::-

Sweeties mind stopped as well. She just sat there. Frozen in shock. In utter silence. Just waiting for the systems crash to happen. To faint. to black out. But nothing happened.

When the horror faded and her body eased of tension sequences, she began to think, and try to rationalize what was happening to her.

She had tried to sing, without desired to do so, and she had just selected an old memory that had played on its own.
She wanted her heart to stop beating. And it had.

Now she wanted it to turn back on.

-:: Initiating heartbeat simulator // standby mode ended ::-

The slow, steady rhythm of her bloodpump returned to fill the silence.

Sweetie pulled the socks of herself and sat there, in the bed, just looking at herself.
Ever since that horrible experience back home she had discovered more and more ways to turn parts of herself off and on.

It had started with the sensors on her right foreleg. Things that had turned off automatically due to her exceeding the pain threshold. Then her lungs had stopped, when she breathed in water. Then, she'd learned how to turn the rest of her sensors on and off to save herself from the cold.

She thought about her lungs again. It had gotten quite tiresome to not be able to breathe as usual. She closed her eyes and went back into her mind. To the Body Functions Processor. And after some searching found the button that controlled the Airpump Failsafe. She carefully flipped it on. If she began feeling any pain in her lungs, she would immediately turn them off.

-:: Initiating inhale/exhale subroutine ::-

There was no pain. Maybe she hadn't turned on the sensors in her lungs. But it didn't matter. She could finally hear the air going in and out of her mouth again. She could finally see her chest rising and falling on its own again. Her body was sounding like it was alive again.

-:: Initiating cry sequence ::-

That's funny. She didn't feel sad. The corners of her mouth had spread from ear to ear. She felt grateful if nothing else.
She had broken the frozen spell-wall that kept her from realizing all the other spell programs. She had been ordering the voices around. It had been difficult at first. But now they were bowing to her will almost on a whim.

Perhaps this was her inherent magic? Perhaps this inner energy had been fighting against the control spells since forever.
Sweetie had never been able to do any magic. And discovering her true nature had all but crushed any hope of her ever being able to use any. But if there really was magic energy in her systems. Maybe she could take control of it?

And if she could take control of these spell-programs, then perhaps one day she would be strong enough to be completely free of any control. Then she'd be free to truly find out who she was.

-:: Excitement levels rising ::-

Her thoughts returned to the beating in her chest.A heart was nothing more than a muscle that pumped blood. So why did it hurt so much? Was that all in her head? Could she turn off her heartbeat with a thought?

Why not? Why did she even need a bloodpump for? Asked one thought.

To pump blood into the skin. Answered another.

She looked down on her forelegs. She'd confirmed that she had control over the pain in her skin. But she did not have control of the pain in her chest. She found no option to turn of the sorrow and homesickness in her Processor. But maybe one day she would gain control of her entire body. Then she'd be able to control the pain inside as well. And then it wouldn't hurt any more.

For now, she decided to take care of that spell that had tried to take control of her voice.
She laid back down in the bed, and concentrated. She went down into her mind and looked for any spells that controlled her voice. Her mind ventured beyond the processor. Following the threads of information that talked about voice control. And eventually found a spell labeled “Voicebox”. She wrapped her mind around it. And just like with her sensors she became aware of a new part of herself like never before.
A small devise that sat in the throat, just about where the vocal cords should be.

She thought of the old song again. She thought of the sound of her voice in the memory of her and her mother practicing the lyrics a winter long ago. she thought of it as a recording and sent it to her voicebox. She imagined hitting play on an old recorder.

-:: Start replay // Disable lip sync::-

The song was being replayed over her lips. But her mouth wasn't moving.

She laid back and listened the song coming from her own mouth. It sounded identical to the one in the memory. It even carried the happy tune of that joyful winter day.

That's because it is the same. She thought at herself. In her mind, she felt the soundtrack flow from the memory through her voicebox, like tape in a recorder. And the song flowed out her mouth like from a gramophone funnel.

It was a crazy feeling. She was telling her mouth to sing. But she was not singing herself. The program was making it sing for her. Because she told it to. She was controlling the control program that was controlling a part of her!

She started laughing. All of this was insane. She was insane. Well, good thing she had come to the right place then.

Nurse Sully soon came knocking and asked how she was feeling, and if she needed something. To the nurse's relief, sweetie just wanted to be left alone. Alone with her voices. Alone with her voice.

She laid awake long into what she assumed was the night, thinking that maybe she should stay here. With all the other nut jobs and screwed up ponies. She felt pretty screwed up herself. Both mentally and physically. Maybe this was where she belonged.

“Everyone can change”. Cardiac had said. “Its all just a matter of getting them to accept then change.”

She had changed a lot in just a few days. If she kept changing, maybe she could change what she was. Then she did not have to be a doll any more, because being a doll sucked!

Listening to her own heartbeat and breath she soon drifted of to sleep.

***

The body laid stretched on the cold, dirty workbench. A workbench stained with oil and blood. The torso was cut wide open, and the decaying rib cage had been removed long ago to make room for the constant procedures. In fact, next to nothing remained of the original skeleton remained.

The yellow mare stood at the threshold of the room. She brushed her white mane out of her face as her dark brown eyes swept one last time over the scene.

The room was poorly lit since the last power outage. Some of the light flickered on and off. The electric flow had just not been the same since that little mare broke in and ruined everything. The power had become hard to keep even with their own generators. Everything had been reconnected so many times that hardly anypony knew what system was connected to what any more. Just as long as all the scientific electronic equipment kept working. They had sacrificed much comfort just to keep their dream alive. But that dream had finally come to an end.

It had been over before it even began. Just a foals naive attempt to change natures passing.
It had just taken this long for all the others to realize it.

They talked about saving a life. Making a life. Creating a life. She knew better. That thing would never be alive. This thing in front of her had been dead since long before it came out of the womb.

At first it had seemed so simple. Possible even. To grant this brain dead foal a life. Just a few special parts to replace the damaged brain. To make science triumph where nature and magic had failed. It had seemed to work at first. But the body remained just as dead as the mind. Life-support of both machines and magic kept the decomposing from worsening. But recovery was not happening. It was simply too far gone.

Then they had the idea. If they could aid the mind. Why not aid the body? Just some parts and pieces here and there to strengthen it. And so they began creating life support systems so small they could fit in such a tiny body one by one replacing the failing organs with artificial ones. A bloodpump had to replace the failing heart. An Airpump had to aid her lungs. And a metal joints had to support the weakened bones. (Eventually replacing the skeleton altogether.)

Just a few more parts they said. Just a few more connections and this foal will live. How long had they clung to that hope?
How long before they finally realized they were poking around in a corpse? How long had it been before they realized that what they called brain activity was simply the electric currents of the equipment?

This desecration disgusted her. Yet she had stayed on the team. For she was equally fascinated.

In such a short time span they had managed to discover medicinal and technological advances that could send Equestria into a new technological boom.
In their attempts to blur the line between pony and machine they had discoverer things that could revolutionize medical science.
Working without restraints of modern ethical practice had allowed her to study the body closer and deeper than all the finest X-ray spells in the world (Stupid Animal Rights Organization and their laws against dissecting of live specimens.)

It helped that she worked with geniuses. It was here she met the stallion of her dreams. They worked together and did the most amazing things. She designed the parts to be anatomy correct, and he made it so. She was the marrow in that little creation. And he was the metal bones. Marrow and metal. It was an amazing time.

Now it was about to end.

It was almost a little sad. That creation of their almost felt like a filly of theirs. A foal they had put all their time and investment into.

Oh well. After the two of them left this place this they were gonna make lots of new little foals. The natural way.

She took one last look around these machines. And then started turning them off one by one. She had to duck under several cables that hung between the body and the machinery surrounding it to reach the power switches . The sawed open skull alone was fitted with hundreds of tiny copper wires that connected the big bulking mainframe to a big blue macguffin inside the cranium. A almost crystal like stone that was suppose to be the filly's new brain. It was almost hypnotizing with its faint blue light. She did not know what it was made of. And she did not care anymore.

Finally she turned off the main power switch. The machines gave a last ominous hum as they powered down. Even the lights in the roof went out, except for a few suborn light bulbs that refused to stop flickering. Even when she flipped the main power switch she doubted she be able to kill the power completely. Not with how everything was cross-wired here.

Even a few buttons on the machines continued blinking randomly, refusing to give up as the last electricity slowly bled from their circuits. The blue light from the open cranium seemed to shine brighter. But it was probably just an illusion in contrast to the darkness. Just one last display of energy.

It was almost sad. Like turning off the life support of a dying patient. Except this patient had been far gone for a long time. Even the family that brought her here had finally accepted to let go.

She turned around and walked out into the corridor. Even the corridor outside seemed to have lost its power when she turned of the machinery. Not surprising. You could not even flip the light in the bathroom anymore without it affecting something else.

Her hoof steps echoed As she walked down the empty dark corridor. But for some reason, she was hit with the uneasy feeling that she wasn't alone here. At first she could not put her hoof on what it was. only that there was something about the echo...

She stopped, realizing that the hallway had never produced an echo before. But as she stood still, the hoofsteps continued. A small metallic tapping was at her coming from behind. But that was impossible. There had been no pony else in the laboratory. No pony except...

No. That was not possible. It must be one of the others trying to pull a prank on her. Smart as they might be they were sometimes painstakingly frustrating to be around. Ponies whose personal hygiene and living standard seemed to drop in opposition to their IQ. Well, she was not gonna take it any more.

She turned around. ready to give the prankster a piece of her mind. And what did she see, if not the body. Its pale, hairless, half decomposed, ripped, torn body. Stuffed to the brim with mechanical joints and components of such poor quality that they could barely move.

But they did. They moved. Four decomposing legs moved across the floor carrying a dead body. Each step producing a little metallic click on the hard, cold floor. Its head lifted on a creaking neck, and those lifeless hollow eyes stared right into her. Its mouth was hanging open in a silent scream. A steady, rasping breath escaping from the gaping maw as the airpump did its thing. A maw that looked like it could swallow her hole.

She wanted to run. But her legs had tensed up and locked in place. Every fiber in her body had tensed solid in fear and in utter disbelief at what was transpired transpiring. She felt like even her lungs and heart had tensed to cease activity.

The small uneasy steps continued to bring it closer and closer, until it walked passed her. Leaving a trail of blood and oil dripping from its body behind. Dragging behind it a tail of wires, and a mane of the many, many copper threads sticking out of its open skull. Along with several other wires, hanging out of ports in the limbs, spine and open torso. Its dead eyes staring unblinkingly ahead as it continued past her and into the darkness of the corridor.

She did not know how long she stood there.
Finally some part of her tensed body realized that she needed air. She sucked in a large amount, and let it out as a scream.

She screamed as she flew up in her bed, and continued screaming until the door to her room flew open and the nurses and caretakers rushed in. She kept screaming and thrashing about as they tried to hold her down. She would have torn out her vocal cord if not a sedative needle had been sunken into her neck. The sedative quickly took effect and made her whole body go limp.

The whole world became so delightfully blurry. The shadows danced with the light, and the ponies in front of her was nothing more than colored blurs.

“There you go. There you go Marrow. Calm yourself!”

A couple of blurs that had been holding her down now helped her sit up in the bed. The whole world swayed as if it were a sea.
A green haired blur shone a small, yet intense light in the mares eyes. The mare did not know if her pupils reacted to the light. The sedatives were sometimes so strong they even delayed your eyes reaction to light. These blurs could be so stupid.

“Is Mad Marrow having dreams again.” Said the green haired blur. "Do you want to talk about it"

Yes. Mad Marrow. That had been her nickname ever since coming here. And yes, she wanted to talk about it. She wanted to warn them of the danger they were in. Of the demon that had infiltrated their halls. But she could not. She would end up back in isolation wearing restraining jacket.
Besides, the drug in her system were making it difficult to form words.
She just nodded. Not even sure to what question.

“Nightmares about zombie robots again?” The green haired blur asked.

Marrow nodded again. Her whole body tipped forward and she would have fallen it the other blurs were holding her upright.

The green haired blur sighed.

”What is wrong with you today? First you have a breakdown in the mess hall, and now this? You are not reverting are you? We don't want Mad Marrow to come back. Not when you were so close to recovery. You could have been out of here a healthy mare by Hearths Warming Eve."

The green haired blur leaned closer. Close enough that Marrow could tell her green eyes from the blur of white. The green poisonous eyes that could only belong to Soylent Green.

"I hate to see my favorite conversationalist go bad. So please tell me whats happening”

"She can't talk. Not whit the dose I gave her" Said a red haired blur.

"Oh thank you sister for drugging down my patients!" Soylent shouted. "Go choke on a needle would you!"

She turned back to Marrow.

"Are you scared of that little filly?"

Marrow nodded so deep her head remained hanging down over her chest.

”Well its not surprising. She scares me too."

"What is that suppose to mean?" Shouted the Red haired blur that had to be sister Sully.

"Oh come on sister. Even you have to admit that there is something wrong with our newest little guest."

“There is plenty wrong with all of us." Sighed Sully. She nodded her head at her sister to follow her out into the corridor.

The caretakers carefully laid Marrow back down in the bed and tied some restraining buckles around her wrists before following the nurse's out into the corridor.

Out there Marrow could here the two sisters arguing. Sully scolded her sister about how they never were supposed to talk bad about patients in front of other patients.

They talked about the filly. They must not think she could hear them. Or at least not be clear headed enough to care. But she was. her body might be limp. And her vision blurry. But her mind was clear. There was a buzzing pain in the back of her head. Stronger than the sedatives could kill. And it kept her focused – focused on the voices.

" ... Then she has a seizure in the Boss's office. And the wasn't breathing!" Soylent ranted.

"You are imagining things" Said sully.

"Oh yeah? Why did the boss shove us out the door? Just who is she? And why did you bring her to the hall so soon after her breakdown?"

Sully remained calm.

"The Boss's Idea. When I went to his office the two of them was already there. Presumably talking about the event. She had made a surprisingly quick recovery. She was crying, so the boss signaled me with a nod of his head to get the little filly something else to think about. So I brought her out to the main hall room for the gathering.”

"And then shit went down." Said Sully. "And that little filly just kept singing like an old gramophone”

"Maybe she was just too tired to care. Some of our other patients wouldn't react if you put a firecracker in their ear."

There was a moment of silence. Marrow could almost hear Soylent shooting daggers with her green eyes.

"Why are you covering for her?” Soylent said In a ice cold tone. ”Are you feeling guilty over how you who tried to close the gate on a starving filly!"

Sully snapped.

"I told you! I thought she was playing Nightmare Night! By Celestia I wished it to be some cruel joke! My tired, stressed out mind could simply not believe somepony would abandon a child in the middle of the forest! And how would you react if a little mare shows up on your doorstep and acts like she is ready to sell her own body? I was freaked out! Not helped by that she was as pale as a ghost!”

Yes. A ghost indeed. A ghost of her past that had come to haunt her once again.
She had thrown a chair at it, but had hit the elderly foal instead.
And just to torment her, it had kept on singing unaffected by her screams.

As the nurses kept talking, things were being replayed in the mares mind. Things she had tried her hardest to forget. The very reason she had ended up here.

It all started after that day. The very day it was all supposed to end. The little unnatural monster had risen from the ashes of the shattered project like a demonic phoenix. A demon of their own creation. After that, new life was blown into the project. Life that was taken from her. In blood, sweat and tears.

And there had been blood spilled for that monster.
For they decided that the little monster needed artificial nerves that could simulate the body's functions. Like the craving for food when the stomach got empty, or the need to breathe when the lungs emptied of air.

To emulate these physical attributes it was she herself that suggested that they preform tests on themselves to simulate the energy. This had ended with them putting recording crystals in both their head and her guts to record the physical activity both in the organ itself and in the brain so they knew how they should design both software and hardware.

To this day she still felt the knife in her gut. Though the wounds and scars had long since been removed by the aid of magic she could still fell it like it was today. When the synchronization of those wretched crystals kicked in it was like getting two tummy ases. And just to take it the entire way, to make sure they got all the data, they had to starve themselves.

She was an physiology and anatomy expert. She knew how far a body could be pushed. And by Celestia did she push those boundaries. It was like starving twice at the same time. It was like drowning twice. Once in the organ, and once in the crystal

In the end, they had their artificial nerve clusters.

She did it all for him. But he had already been snared by the demon. He did not even notice her sacrifices.

He just took those nerve cluster crystals and fed them – her sweat and blood – to that monster

Not that it was all for nothing though. When the time came to test the artificial nerve clusters. She was the first to suggest they test the puke reflex.

What should she puke for? Grass had been the suggestion. Whatever. Grass was disgusting anyway. Ponies these days should never eat it.

And the parents didn't suspect a thing out of their little test. They just think she had eaten grass herself, out of curiosity.
The truth was. Marrow had enjoyed seeing that little monster puke. It had felt so good to see that little demon puke all over herself. She would have puked up her own intestines, if she had any. And to hear her cry had been like music to her ears. She had enjoyed getting some payback for at the times that beast had scared her.

But the demon retaliated.

In the end that little monster had taken everything from her. It had taken her blood, her sweat, and tears.
It had even taken the stallion she loved. He, whom she thought she would be able to endure together with. But alas even he was taken from her as well. As the demon had poisoned the mind of the stallion she loved, he grew more and more attached to the project. And more and more distant from her.
And when it finally disappeared, it had taken her job, and her mind, as well.

And now it was back for more.

She could feel it. Trying to claw its way back into her mind.
Just thinking about it made her head hurt. A sticking, burning pain from the back of her skull that she had not felt for many months. A pain she thought she was free of. But now that the little demon had returned, so did the pain. It only meant one thing. It was trying to nest its way into her mind again.

This whole hospital was doomed. They did not know it yet. But that little demon would send them all into insanity and ruin. Just like it had destroyed the lives and minds of her and her former coworkers. From the sound of it, the demon had already poisoned the minds of the staff. The demon had already gotten to the mind of Chief Psychiatrist Cardiac.

Well, not if she had anything to say about it. She was gonna make sure that little monster never got to take anything from any pony ever again.

But she had to play it cool. To start screaming and pulling at her restraints would only get her locked up.

When the nurses came back in. Marrow was as cool as ever. She could tell by the sisters faces that they had reached an understanding.

"If the little filly is bothering you, we are simply gonna have to move you to another group. How about the cooking group? The chefs could use a little help now that most ponies are home over the holiday. What do you say? Feeling up to it?"

Marrow nodded.

Inside she was grinning wide.

Kitchen duty. It was perfect.

They always say that its around Hearts Warming Eve that the most house fires occur.
And a little cooking accident can so easily happen. Especially when the cooks are a bunch of mentally handicapped fools.

Author's Note

I don't actually know anything about psychology or brain development. My inspiration comes solely from other works of fiction. So don't take my word for how such things work.

Chapter 11. Inferno

-:: Deja Vu ::-
-:: The feeling of having experienced something before ::-
-:: Similar experiences :: One in recorded memory ::-
-:: Recollecting ... ::-

There were certainly a lot of similarities between this and the previous time Sweetie had experienced an explosion. The ringing in the ears – The throbbing in the head – The pushing force as something sends you through the air.

But that was where the similarity ended.
This time there was no green hills, nor blue sky when she opened her eyes. Just darkness, the blackness of a heavy toilet door.

The door had flown off it hinges, and pushed Sweetie back with it. She had ended up in a sitting position on the toilet chair – with the door leaning over her.

She took a few breaths just to see that she was still alive.

-:: Dust particles caught in air filter // Initiate cleansing procedures ::-

Sweetie started coughing. And every wheezing breath of foul air the pulled into her lungs only worsened the rash in her throat.

-:: Turn off breathing sequence // Airpump entering standby mode ::-

Sweetie pushed the door off her. And her already confused mind was hit with an even more unsettling sight.

It was snowing indoors.

Her room was gone. The walls were still there. But everything else was unrecognizable. The motive that had once been a warm sunny day had been replaced with a harsh ash-gray winter wasteland. The once warm yellow wall-panel had blackened. The mat on the floor had been replaced by a layer of soot. Soot that was falling in gray flakes from the once blue roof. The cabinet was reduced to rubble and the bed was on fire.

Sweetie took a few uneasy steps. Walking out into that indoor wasteland was like walking into a different world altogether. A different dimension where the bloodbots ruled and ponykind was all but extinct.

A squeaking sound caught her ear. Sweetie turned to see her door swing inwards, and reveal the shadowy figure of a pony. In its mouth, it held some kind of stick - with a small flame on the end. And in the hoof it held a bottle with a piece of cloth stuck down the bottleneck.

But it was not Rampony Mactails. It was a mare. In the faint light of the light stick she could just make out a familiar yellow fur, and an pair of red eyes.

The eyes widened as they made contact with Sweetie's. And the lightstick fell from her teeth as her mouth opened in shock. Sweetie was sure that the hysterical mare was about to scream again. But when no sound left her mouth, Sweetie took the first word.

There were a lot of questions in her confused, shaken mind. One of them was: "Am I going to get blamed for this?"

"I did not do this!" Sweetie said "It just ... happened."

Wait. Why did it happen?
Sweetie stared at where the lightstick had fallen into the ashes. The answer was there. But it would not come to her. Disbelief was blocking the answer from being processed.

"What's happening!?" She asked.

The mare, who would not stop staring, pointed her bottle at Sweetie, and spoke.

"You ... You should be suffocating."

Sweetie panicked, and flipped the airpump back on. She almost immediately started coughing. Yet she forced a smile.

“See... Better? … I mean … *cough, cough* … Yes, I breathe!”

The mare shook her head.

“No... you don't...” Her voice started to shiver “You're mocking me … You don't need to breathe ... you're not even hurt...”

Her pupils shrank, she dropped the bottle, and unleashed the high pitched scream that Sweetie had been waiting for.

“WHY? WHY ARE YOU UNSCATHED!?”

Screamingly she turned her tail, and ran away.

Sweetie wanted to scream for her to wait. She even wanted to scream. “Don't tell anypony!” But the mare was already far away.

Was it that obvious? Had she revealed herself?

She looked down on herself. But apart from some soot, the biggest wounds on her was those she had inflicted herself. The bandage covering that self abuse till held. And the far-too-large restraint jacket – thought dirtier now than before - was still in one piece.
The only place she could not immediately see was her own head. But touching her forehead revealed that the bandana and pink frazzled mane was still there. She was a mess. But not visibly robotic.

Yet... With the look that mare had had in her eyes. She might as well have been.

Was it the fact she was not breathing? Was that all it had taken to reveal her?
She cursed herself and punched herself in the forehead, only stopping because she did not want to rip open another revealing hole in her face.

Whom was she lying to? Had not everypony known from the very beginning? Was it not there in the way they looked at her?

She would have sat down in the ashes and reveled in her own misery. But the shock forbade any self pitying from overtaking her mind. Instead, she started walking out of the room. Wondering why nopony else had come to check on her. Wondering why it was so dark in the corridor.

Wondering why she could hear what sounded like a Hearths warming fire raging from the main hall.

Like a moth, she was drawn to the sound. Curious as to what was going on.

***

The main hall was on fire. And it was no sweet Hearths Warming fire.

The flames were licking the walls as they climbed up the curtains. Long curtains under which a small bowl of fire had been left. The windows cracked and shattered from the heat, Thus giving way for the rain outside to fall and be frizzled on the red hot prison bars.

The fire spread out over the decorations of paper figures that hung in drifts across the hall. Running across the suspending strings, the fire light up all the crumbled paper snowflakes, and causing them to fall from the roof file flakes of fire.

Above it all sat a thick black layer of smoke that covered the ceiling like an aggressive raincloud that released drops of fire instead of water.

One of these flakes fell towards Sweetie. Her eyes tracked it as it sank past her face and graced her shoulder. Leaving a black mark of singed fabric in the broken restraining jacket.

That woke Sweetie up from her trance.
Unable to feel the heat of the fire, she had wandered dangerously far into the room. Drips of sweat fell into her eyes, and she realized she had walked straight into an oven. an oven that was about to close on her as the The fire spread across the walls. Now the roar of the approaching flames drowned out the ringing in her ears.As did the creaking of the building around her, and what she thought were screams coming from somewhere far away.

The danger posed by the fire finally registered in her shaken mind.

The inferno was gonna come down on top of her. Burning paper and pieces of roof were already falling all around her. The previously untouched floor and furniture was now beginning to catch fire as the deadly snow fell on top of them. The plastic chairs were beginning to melt and release an odor fouler than the aches in her room. And everywhere little puddles of fire was beginning to form across the floor.

The first thought that crosses most creatures mind in a situation like this, is to get away from the fire (unless you are a dragon).
Sweetie was no different. And her primal fear of fire kicked in and sent her running.
It was logical to get away from the fire. But where should she run. Were was the fire exit?
And why hadn't she run into anypony yet?

As she ran like a maniac down the halls she did not see another soul. Had nopony heard the explosion? Was everypony sleeping? Was it evening? Or the middle of the night? She had completely lost all track of time - so enthralled had she been by her own ruined foreleg.

But the status of her leg was pushed back from her mind. Sweetie didn't even look down to see if her bandage or socks were still hanging on as she rushed through the corridors. The lack of ponies was not the only thing that bothered her as the roar of the fire was put behind her.
There should have been a sound. A sound that should have been ringing so loud it hurt your ears. A sound that she had set off with a friendly little cooking accident.

Where was the fire alarm?

She had no time to think about that. These ponies were in danger. And she needed to do something about that.

"WAKE UP EVERYPONY! THE PLACE IS ON FIRE!" She screamed.

She screamed until her throat went sore. Then she turned off the sore nerveclusters and throat sensors, and continued screaming. She wailed like a siren as she bolted through the corridors.

"No its not! It was just some stupid chicken accident." Came the voice of an irritated stallion.

Sweetie stopped at the door (presumably to a employers lounge) from which the voice had come. She reared up and started banging her hoofs on it for all she was worth.

"NOT THIS TIME! ITS A NEW FIRE! A REAL FIRE!"

Thankfully: whether to silence her of because he believed her, the door swung open Inwards, causing her to fall into the chest of a tired stallion in Pajamas.

“Go back to bed you little ...”

One look down the corridor immediately changed his mood from annoyed sleepyhead to shocked and awake. He quickly joined Sweeties chorus, and started running down his own corridor.

Though they ran in opposite directions – the message was starting to get through. More and more ponies were coming out of their rooms. The word spread from mouth to mouth throughout the hospital. Ponies were screaming, grabbing fire extinguishers, blowing into whistles. and running to get more help - Only to realize that they were not the only once needing it. And the cacophony soon became Its own form of alarm as ponies ran back an forth trying to assist each other in one way or another. All asking the same question.

“Where is the fire alarm! Why isn't it ringing?”

Sweetie ran down another corridor, this one filled with the typical cells where the inmates resided, and started banging on every door as she ran past them. Screaming her warning.

She was about to turn the corner when she looked back to see that none of the ponies were exiting their rooms. Not a single door had opened. But that didn't mean that Sweetie had gone unheard, or that the ponies were slow. On the contrary. Many were already banging on their doors from the insides. Screaming and begging to be let out.

Sweetie ran back and started pulling a the handles. But the doors would not budge. They were locked. And the inmates were trapped inside.

“A key. We need a key. Where is the key?” She screamed.

“Here it is!”

Sweetie turned to see another pony rounded the corner. It was Brick, the caretaker. And from his hooves he pulled the big key chain. But whatever joy Sweetie might have felt at the help was drained as Brick started to fumble with the big bundle in search for every individual key.
And when he had finally found what he was looking for he had to fumble with the lock before he got the first door open. A terrified pony ran out, and brick had to direct them towards the end of the corridor, where a nurse were starting to direct ponies towards the exit.

The whole process was taking too long. Sweetie could see flames approaching from the other end of the corridor. And all she could do was to continue banging on the doors and scream at Brick to hurry up.

“Don't you have any more keys? Cant you at least give me a key so I can help unlock the doors?”

"No. I'm sorry. But I've got the only set of keys for this wing. And they must be using all the other keys to open all the other doors right now."

“But then... How are we gonna get everyone out in time?!”

One look from Brick was all it took for Sweetie to arrive at the horrible conclusion.

They were not.

"W...Why?" Sweetie stammered.

Her banging stopped as a horrible image formed in her mind. An image of all the floors above her, Towards which the fire was now climbing. Of the screams she had heard as the fire licked the roof in the main hall. That roof must be the floor to the floor above them. A floor filled with ponies that were now being trapped and cocked in their own rooms.

How could they not had thought of this kind of thing? Sweetie did know that in case of fire all ponies has to evacuate the building, as soon as possible. But how did that work if all the doors were locked?

"WHY?!” She screamed at Brick, and started hitting him as if everything was his fault.

“Why are you so stupid? Why don't you have more keys!? Why is there no other way to open the doors!”

“There is!" He screamed back. "At least there is suppose to be, The doors should have already been open. It should not be like this. The emergency release system should have kicked in."

He explained as he got another door open.

"Its a system that unlocks all the doors in case of a fire. If the fire alarm starts ringing – all the doors will open. But there is something wrong with the thing. Its not ringing. I mean, it was ringing earlier. And we had our hooves full just getting all those that wandered off back in their rooms.”

He cursed as he dropped his key chain.

"Its just our luck that something like this should happened. "

“How do we start the alarm?” Sweetie asked.

“Well, you start a fire.”

Brick forced a smile. Sweetie only answered with a frown.

“Ok ok. Bad time for jokes. There should be a main breaker in the basement. Some guys went there to flip it on. They should have it back on at any moment. HEY WHERE ARE YOU GOING...?”

Sweetie didn't need to hear more. She was already bolting away down the corridor, heading against the stream of panicking ponies as she made her way towards the basement. She was not able to just wait around until somepony did something. With a filly's impatience she had to actually see that it was being done. Cause if she could not see it, it might as well not be happening.

***

She would not have found the stairs down if not for a pair of ponies coming up through a service door, coughing and spitting to clear their throats of the smoke that followed them up from the stairs. A nurse was quickly at their side and asked them how they were doing.

“Its hopeless!” One of them cried between his convulsions ”Its too hot. We can't get in.”

“What do you mean?” Asked the nurse. “Cant you just put it out? Didn't you have fire extinguishers with you?”

“Its no ordinary fire.” The other one coughed “The central gas-line has burst, and it has somehow ignited. A little water ain't gonna put those flames out.”

The nurse gasped.

“But … can't you turn off the gas?”

Both ponies shook their heads

“The valve is on the other end of the corridor – Behind the flames. We can't get to it.”

The first pony took some water offered to him by the nurse. Cleared his throat, and started patting his friend on the back

“Hang on. We got to get to the central heating station. Maybe we can shut off the gas from there.”

The two stallions left. More trotting then galloping, as they continued to cough and convulse their way to their destination. The nurse suddenly found herself alone, and she anxiously looked around the corridor. Hadn't there been a little filly here just now?

***

Sweetie stared at the corridor of fire that laid ahead of her. A pipeline was running along the roof of the entire length of the hallway. The pipe had been broken at several points and gas was seeping out of the cracks. Gas that had been ignited, and several streams of fire were now blazing down from the roof, like the breath of raging dragons. Sweetie had only hours ago seen how easily gas was turned into a fire hazard. The image if a light-stick flew through her mind.

Like most creatures (except dragons), Sweetie possessed a primal fear of fire. A Fear that was now holding her back as she stared at the flames in front of her.

Her mind had started to rationalize. "Save yourself". It said. There was nothing she could do anyway. The heat alone would kill any pony.

But she could not feel the heat, she could not feel anything. And she did not choke on the foul smelling smoke that hung so heavily in the air. She double checked that her sensors were off.

Sweeties mind again turned to all the inmates trapped in their rooms.

-:: You can not save them ::-

Sweeties heart could not accept that.

The fire extinguishers, that had proven worthless against the gas fueled flames, still lay leaking water onto the floor.

Sweetie tore off her oversized restraint jacket, and drenched it in the water. She then took the completely soaked jacket and pulled it over her like a blanket. She only stopped for one second to make sure her head and tail were covered by the fabric. Another second and she might have gotten cold hooves. It was a second she did not allow herself.

She charged.

The flames roared above her as she charged past them. For a few horrifying seconds her whole world was red, as the flames had painted the stone walls and floor in the color of heat. The fear she felt only served to increase her forward momentum. And with a roll Sweetie dove through the last stream of fire, and into the room beyond.

The jacket, she immediately tore off herself. It had caught fire, and was left to smolder in the corner. Sweetie danced and stepped on her own tail as she put out the ember on it and beneath her hooves. She was smoldering. All sweat had vaporized from her body, and was now steaming out off her dehydrating skin. But she was not on fire.

As soon as the panic levels had dropped to manageable levels, she looked up above her.

Sweetie had expected to find a big looking electrical box full of fuses and switches (and hopefully one big red panic button that said “Fire Alarm”). What she saw was in many ways a fusebox. Located on the wall above a small workbench.

Sweetie jumped up on the workbench and looked over the fusebox. On the front was a panel full of tiny light bulbs, buttons and switches. She scanned the panel and did manage to find a button branded "Fire alarm". She pressed it.

But nothing happened.

She pressed it again, and again, Until she was hammering on the button. But nothing happened. No ringing sound filled the air. No distant creak of a hundred doors opening. Not even a tiny weeny light from the bulb beside the button to indicate any kind of progress.

-:: Panic levels rising ::-

Sweetie began to frantically pull and push at every button and swish on the panel. But the whole thing remained as dark and unresponsive as ever. Her heart sank deeper and deeper in her chest as she realized her endeavors were fruitless. Had she really charged through fire for nothing? Were ponies really gonna get burned alive because this stupid, stupid panel refused to cooperate!?

"STUPID!" she yelled, and rammed her hoof into the panel. Hard enough to dent it.

The panel creaked, and swung slightly open, like the lid to a locker.

Sweetie opened the panel. And what she saw almost sent the panic levels sky rocketing again.

Inside was a rainbow colored spiders web of wires. Each gowning back and forth across each other. How any pony was supposed to make any sense of this web was beyond Sweetie.

What wasn't beyond her were the sockets behind the web. This was where the fuses were supposed to go. She briefly remembered one stormy night, when the power had gone out home at the Carousel Boutique after a flash of lightning. Rarity had asked Sweetie to hold a flashlight while she magically accessed a small fuse box in a back room. She had removed a broken cylindrical fuse and replaced it with a new one, Explaining that these things broke when they got overloaded so that the rest of the things in the house didn't break when a wayward lightning bolt hit the power cord.

All in all these things were a safety measure to make sure to much power didn't get in to the wire-work. But right now they were the cause if the disaster. Because they were all broken!

Sweetie removed the broken fuse and frantically looked around the room for a replacement. She found none. What kind of breaker room didn't have spare fuses?

-:: Despair levels rising ::-

She crawled back to the fusebox. Without a new fuse the breakers wouldn't work. There would be no power to sound any alarm. Much less open the door. In frustration she threw the broken fuse across the room, and just stared at the empty socket. Deep inside she could see a live contact sparkling with power. Power that was getting nowhere since it had nothing that connected it to the rest of the stupid breaker-box. And if she had no fuse, just how were she gonna connect the ports inside the socket?

She reached out her sock dressed hoof towards the empty socket. Wishing she could just take the electricity and make it open all the doors in this place.

That's when it hit her.

She looked down on her right foreleg. What she was thinking was unthinkable, because it went against anything a little filly was supposed to do. Little fillies were not suppose to stick forks in the power outlet. Much less their whole hoof.

But if she didn't, then ponies were gonna burn.

"Sorry Screwloose" She muttered, and tore off her sock.

She then tore out the two sets of wires from her foreleg - that the mad mare had so skilfully reattached - and plugged them both into different parts of the fusebox. One to the button labeled Fire alarm - The other to the most important looking knot in that wire web.

She placed her left, bandaged forehoof over the alarm button - put her metallic right forehoof into the socket - and then...

***

-:: Deja Vu ::-

The loss of body control. That feeling when the world just disappears from your conscious self as you are taken on a roller coaster ride on the electrical waves.

Sweetie had experienced it once before. Short circuiting herself would not go down as her brightest memories. She would not be able to tell if this was better or worse. For she could not really remember what had happened. All that existed in her memory was this overflowing sense of power, as wave after wave of electricity washed over her mind. Carried her out on a surfing tour as she rode those waves through a storm.

Somehow it was blissful. She was taken to beaches that she never knew existed before. And at every beach was a powerless little circuit crying for energy. Sweetie happily supplied it with a mouthful before surfing on. She had plenty to spare. And for every circuit she fed she felt like she was becoming part of something larger than herself. She felt like she was becoming bigger. Growing out into new systems. Filling them with her presence and feeding them with the energy that she was and constantly was getting more of.

Then. It all just ended. With a bang - so to speak.

When Sweetie opened her eyes, she was lying on the floor on the other end of the breaker room. Back soot covered the wall around the fusebox. Like a really big firecracker had gone off and covered the wall in dust. The fusebox itself looked like it had been the main source of the explosion. It hung, blackened and tilted and bent from the wall. The panel had come loose, and the melted wires were hanging out over the workbench. Manny of them were giving off random sparks of electricity.

These things Sweetie's eyes registered. But she did not immediately understand what it meant.

It took a while for the mind to sort out all the extra energy running through her systems. As she became aware of the world around her again, she almost wanted to go back into that blissful state of electrified haze. For her ears were assaulted by a high pitch ringing. She wanted to close her ears against the sound. But her recovering mind made a realization that made her happy levels increase.

The fire alarm was ringing.

***

Sweetie put her hooves on the valve and twisted. The thing creaked in protest, as it clearly had not been used in a long time. But Sweetie persisted. And little by little, she managed to close the valve.

As the flow of gas stopped, the flames spewing down from the broken pipe in the roof ceased to be.

With that. Sweetie was able to leave the basement. But before she did - she made sure her sock was back on her foreleg.

No time for rest though. Even through the buzz of the fire alarm, she could hear the flames eating through the walls above her. The whole building was creaking and it did not seem long before the fire would consume all.

The hospital had become a lot more crowded as Sweetie reentered the hallways. Looking to her left and right she could see that every cell door in the place had been opened. Ponies were coming out of their rooms. More were gushing down the stairs from the floors above. All were now piling up in the narrow hallways. Some were screaming, others were crying. And some looked like they had no clue what was going on. Some had left their rooms of their own volition. Others had to be led, or even dragged away from the danger that they were unable to recognize.

Unfortunately. The fire was also filling up the hallways. Despite the firefighter's best efforts, the flames continued to spread. Not just from the main hall. But from other areas of the hospital as well. It was clear that this was no single fire. But several.

That only added to the panic. The hospital staff had their hooves full trying to keep the stream of mentally handicapped ponies under control. The only thing aiding in the process was that everypony was moving in the same direction. Towards the exit.

Sweetie was running towards that stream. Thanking her small size as she dodged between legs up the crammed corridors. She scanned the face of every pony that passed her. Unable to find the one she was looking for.

She saw Brick holding down a hysterical stallion as a nurse sedated the patient. And then proceeded to carry the limp pony out of the hospital. She saw nurse Sully punching a catatonic mare in a wheelchair while holding a leach to a muzzled pony in her teeth. She saw Dr Cardiac telling a very angry nurse Soylent to drop whatever she was carrying and help out.

She even saw Miss mushroom herding the kitchen staff out of the away kitchen. Undressed from her white coat and plastic bags Sweetie saw that she actually had blue hair - rolled up in tight knots that somewhat resembled mushrooms. She even had a mark of a mushroom.

But one pony remained unaccounted for. The one pony Sweetie cared most about in this forsaken place.

How would she react to the fire alarm? Would she have sense enough to run? Or would she curl up into a ball like some of the patients?

Could she even run? The kitchen staff had put the mare in a restraining jacket. It would be next to impossible to walk in one of those. even more to open a door.

Were somepony helping her? Or had she been forgotten in the chaos?

There were to many insecurity's to account for. Unless Sweetie saw the mare leave with her own eyes she would not be satisfied. And to that end there was only one thing to do.

Ignoring every fire safety plan in existence - as well as the voices in her head screaming at her to stop, turn around, and prioritize her own safety - She ran deeper into the burning building.

***

Sweetie had only been to Screwloose's room once before. But even so, she had a fairly good Idea of where to go.

She ran past open doors and empty hallways. Everypony had already evacuated this part of the hospital. She hoping to Celestia that she would find the room in the back open and empty. If such. She would only have to keep sprinting back, before anypony noticed she was gone.

She had to turn many corners and take many detours, as many pathways were blocked off by flames, but even so Sweetie managed to navigate her way to the back of the hospital. And finally came upon the last intersection.

She knew that Screwloose's room laid at the end of the corridor just behind that corner.

As if confirm her worst nightmares. The door at the end of the hallway was closed.

Sweetie did not slow down. Rather, she increased her speed.

She knew the door swung inwards. She only hoped that Screwloose kept out of the way.

Like a cannonball she barged - head first into the door. Unfortunately, her speed did not allow for a very quick stop. And she tumbled head over heels into the empty bed that stood on the other side of the room.

She found herself looking up at a big window. For a disoriented second she wanted to believe that she was back in her own room, looking up at the rain stained glass after a horrible nightmare. But alas, the sound of fire was only getting closer.

She rolled out of bed, and found Screwloose, curled up in the corner of the room.

As she saw Sweetie she tried to get up. Only to immediately fall on her face. her front legs were locked tight to her torso by the restraining jacket.

Sweetie tried to help the mare up. But it was no use. The mare could simply not walk on her back hooves.

Sweetie cursed and pulled at the jacket. The fabric was sturdy - and all the straps were conveniently placed on the back, so that no inmate would be able to remove the jacket themselves.

Sweetie got the mare to lay down, and started pulling at the straps. She fumbled time and time again with the thick tough buckles. She could hear the fire getting closer, she thought she heard something collapsing, and the stress only made her fumble even more.

-:: Panic levels rising ::-

Sweat dripped from her forehead down on the straps. And in Sweetie's mind that only made them slippery. Like it was not hard enough to do this with her clumsy hooves in such tight packages.

Wait.

Oh for PETE sake! She cursed. And bit down on her sock. She pulled it off with her teeth and proceeded to do the same with the bandage on her left hoof. she chewed frantically until the entire package had been removed.

Two slim, mechanical forelegs got back to work on the straps. Sweeties heart wanted to sink, but she pushed the thought out of her mind. Now was not the time for such thoughts. These hooves were gonna save a life. The hard metallic hooves did a far better job on the buckles than the sweaty, bloody, skin clogged hooves had ever done. The strap buckles gave way one by one as the cybernetic muscles pumped with efficiency and released every buckles with mechanical proficiency.

Screwloose was freed.

***

Sweetie ran out of the room, screaming at Screwloose to follow. But the mare had gotten distracted doing something with her mane.

"THIS ISN'T THE TIME FOR HAIR PREENING, WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW. COME ON... "

Sweetie turned around. And froze.

Coming at her from the other end of the corridor, was another mare.

She was standing on her back legs, wielding a bottle in each hoof. Each bottle had a piece of cloth hanging from the neck. And the cloth, she lit on fire, by dragging it amongst the flames that were now dancing up the wallpaper of the intersection.

“Did you rely think I would let you get away?" The Madmare asked.

Oh no. NOT NOW! Why did this have to happen how? Sweetie wanted to turn around and run. But the fear that had constantly been nagging in the back of her mind, now crashed down on her with force.

-:: Paralyzing fear // Initiating shivering sub routines ::-

Sweeties legs began to shake. Her knees felt like they wanted to give out under her. She wanted to override the paralysis. but her fear was to strong. She was unable to turn her head away from the mare as she approached through the center of the burning corridor like the bringer of the flames of Tartatus itself. Her white mane and tail waving ghostly behind her and the fire dancing reflected in her mad, red eyes.

The only thing Sweetie managed to do was press a few words out over her quivering lips.

"Why ... Why are you doing this?"

“I had to” The mare screamed, Her voice was trembling. Yet it was not rage that was displayed on her face. But fear. The mare was hysteric. “I didn't want to hurt the others. But I would do anything to stop you!”

“Why?! I haven't done anything!”

“Oh yes you have, you monstrous machine.”

Machine...?

It hit Sweetie like a ton of bricks, just what the mare had said. And just like a ton of bricks. The force of the realizations pinned her down with crushing weight.

This mare was afraid of her. She knew what she was. And wanted to destroy her.

It was Sweeties worst fears incarnated. Somepony had finally come to drive her out with pitchforks and touches. Except less pitchforks and a lot more fire. Fire meant to cleanse the world of this unnatural design that she was.

How had she found out? Was it really surprising that she had?

How well had Sweetie really attempted to hide it?

She looked down on her forelegs. In the rush to leave she had completely forgotten to put on something to cover her inner workings. The metal shimmered red in the light of the flames.

This whole scene was like when Rampony had encountered that scary bloodbot filly in pony hide in a burning building.

“But... I'm not a Bloodbot.” Was the words Sweetie managed to get across her lips.

The mare let out a laugh so dry it stung.

"And what do you think you are? A Pony? You are not fooling me! you have even chosen to reveal your true colors!”

"But but.... I AM a pony!" Sweetie shouted, suddenly feeling the need to defend herself. "A robot would never get hungry."

The mare filched, as if Sweeties words had hurt her. Suddenly, she got mad for real.

"HUNGRY?" You cant get hungry! Its only a recording of a real pony's hunger. MY HUNGER! The strain on my nerves that you stole so you could play pretend as a little pony.

Sweeties mind froze at this information.

"Re... Recording?"

As if drawn out by the mares words. A piece of information hit her consciousness. Of all the times hunger and stomach ache that had plagued her in the past few day. The shier implications of this sent her mind into overdrive trying to process what it all meant.

But the mare wasn't gonna let her finish thinking.

“You stole my sweat and blood, Just like you stole from eveypony who ever worked on you. Just like you stole my husband."

“What husband? Who worked on me? How would you know? Wait … WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”

Of all the questions that surrounded Sweeties existence. She never believed she would find a possible answer like this. But the mare wasn't gonna provide any answers.

“I only know that I need to destroy you. For the sake of everypony. For the sake of my husband! I do not know what that fool Cardiac plans to do with you. Whether he wants to dissect you or study you I wont let it come to pass!”

“Cardiac? … ” Did he know to. Did everypony in this hospital know?

A terrifying possibility hit Sweetie. Was that why this mare had been allowed to blow up her room. Had she been let loose to do the bidding of an executioner?

“Are you hungry!” The executioner asked, completely freezing Sweeties thought ”Cause I got a cocktail for you right here!” She shouted, and threw one of her bottles.

`That's not a cocktail´ was a thought that had time to pass through Sweeties head, as the bottle sailed through the air.

She knew that she had to get out of the way. But her legs would not move. Her systems had been paralyzed by the mares words, and would not obey her instincts. That part of her had to fight to get the rest of the body to react. But to override the fear, shock and stunning disbelief would simply take to long. As such. It was a little to long before the realization hit her. And by the time it did. She knew it was already to late. She stood like frozen, and knew that she would be hit by that flaming bottle.

A shadow passed above her, and snagged the bottle out of the air. It took her a second to realize that Screwloose had jumped right over her head, and caught the bottle between her teeth.

Screwloose did not let go of her forward momentum as she charged the crazy mare, and threw the bottle back at her.

Marrow screamed and did what sweetie had failed to do. Dodge. The bottle flew past her and shattered on the wall next to her. Spreading Its greasy fluid and flames across the corner of the intersection.

The next second Screwloose was over her. She closed her yaws around Marrows front leg, causing her to drop the other bottle. It shattered and spread new flames on the opposing corner Sweetie and the two fighting mares.

Sweetie stood there. Stunned by what she was seeing.

It was as if the fire had become irrelevant to the two mares as they brawled to the apocalyptic background of the burning building.

However, the fire had not forgotten about them. And it did not wait until the two had finished their fight to consume the walls, fueled by the contents of the madmares bottles.

A loud crack caused Sweetie to look upwards, to see the roof starting to bend downward. The fire had claimed all four corners of the intersection and was now licking the supporting pillars away.

The roof snapped, and came tumbling down.

"SCREWLOOSE LOOK OUT!"

Sweetie charged and jumped right at the two mares. She crashed into the blue back of Screwloose. The force knocked the air out of the mare and caused her to loose her grip of mad Marrow. The madmare fell next the Screwloose. She screamed at the sight of Sweetie coming at her. And she lashed out with both back hooves, delivering a upside-down buck that struck Sweetie square in the yaw and sent her tumbling backwards.

There was a massive crash as the roof and the floors above it came tumbling down.

***

Sweetie might have been spared the pain of a broken jaw, but the force of the kick disoriented her enough that she lost track of up and down. Until the floor reacquainted her with those directions.

She grabbed her jaw. Noticing that it was still in place. Undamaged.

She looked back to see if Screwloose was ok. The mare stared back at her with a most worried look on her face. Her ears flat to her head and her tail and head hanging low. Between the two of them was a wall of fire. To her horror, Sweetie realized that she was on the wrong end of the intersection.

The roof had fallen, and taken a large chunk of the floor with it. The walls of the intersection was gone. And the skeletal frames of the supporting structure was crumbling by the second. Adding more and more debris to that seemingly bottomless pit, from which flames rose like the tentacles of Tartarus, ready to devour any and all who came to close.

There was no way she would be able to cross.

The other mare had disappeared. But Screwloose remained. Whimpering, unwilling to leave but unable to do anything. The floor underneath her creaked. And only by jumping back did she avoid going down into that fiery hole as another piece of floor disappeared.

“GO! Get out of here!” Sweetie screamed.

Screwloose hesitated, but a second creaking of the floor underneath her forced her to get moving. With one last look at Sweetie, she obliged.

Sweetie watched as her gray tail disappeared down the end of the burning corridor. The next second the curtains of flames closed.

Sweetie was trapped. Completely cut off by that towering wall of fire, and it was slowly getting closer.

Screaming would be pointless, nopony would hear her. She knew she would not be able to wait for rescue. Screwloose would not be able to get anyone back to her in time. And who would come for her anyway? The angry mob had finally formed. They had let the mare blow up her room. And now they were all gonna leave her in here to burn.

It wasn't fair... It just wasn't fair.

With no where else to go, she turned her tail and headed back into Screwloose's room. She jumped up in the bed, up to the window.

The window was bolted shut. But Sweetie punched the glass out with her metallic hooves.

A rush of air and rain, that would probably had been cold if she could feel anything, blew past her ears. The sound of the rain and the wind was the most welcoming thing ever. Never had she thought she would long for the cold and rainy forest which had caused her such grief in days past. Right now that place was the only thing that spelled safety.

But to get out there – She had to first tend with the barbed fence that covered the outside of the window. She was still trapped, like a bird in a burning cage.

The fire behind her roared louder. The wind from outside seemed to have fulled them. The hallway was falling apart and the flames were already starting to lick the door frame.

With no other options left she put her hooves on the fence and started shaking it. The thing was sturdy as only iron can be. There was no way she would be able to remove it. She was simply not strong enough. And she knew it.

She tried anyway.

The doorway had caught fire and the wallpaper was starting to curl up. The place must be hot as an oven.

She shook the bars with increasing frequency, until a small amount of gravel fell from the outside wall as the bars rocked back and forth on their screws.

Smoke began to fill the room and bellow out through the window, clouding Sweeties vision in foul blackness. Her nose told her about substances and particles so nasty she had to deactivate her sense of smell. Soot covered her body and stuck to the sweat that was pouring from her skin.

She continued to pull at the bars. But it would not be enough. Not in time. She had to push the bars out now!

She braced her back hooves against the bedframe and pushed. But the only thing that was sent backwards was the bed. And lucky that. Because the bed was smoldering. The iron bedframe was beginning to glow red hot, and mattress soon caught fire.

The place must be hot as an oven. Sweetie did not know what such heat would do to her body. She did not have time to care. She was now up on the window frame, and without enough space for her to push. She locked her fetlocks around the iron bars and pulled.

Something metallic groaned in protest. Her joints were clicking. Her spine was bending, and the weight on her back hooves increased as she put more and more force on the bars.

-:: Exertion exceeding comfort threshold // Endeavor exceeding set stamina perimeters // Stamina levels depleting // Strain and fatigue sequence commencing // Initiating lactic acid simulation sequence ::-

Normally she would have stopped, realizing that the iron bars were to much for her. But the was in no position to give up and go back

Behind her there was nothing but fire. Outside there was freedom and safety. And these stupid, stupid bars would not stop her. Nor the stupid, stupid voices in her head.

-:: OVERRIDE ::-

Pain and exhaustion quickly followed as the strain on her body increased. Pain that her desperation shut out and turned off. Sweetie fought through the ghosts and sequences in her head telling her to stop. She pushed herself beyond the point of exhaustion. A feat that would have taken the breath out of her if she had any breath left. An effort that would have caused her fetlocks to bleed as they cut into the metal bars - If there had been any skin left on them.

Without the worry or artificial pain and exhaustion hitting her mind she increased the force of her effort even further.

The pain was instead replaced by warnings.

-:: !WARNING! // Pressure on joints exceeding recommended settings // !WARNING! // Weight capacity overburdened // !WARNING! ::-

Every cybernetic muscle was sending signals that the limit was reached. Every piston said that the pressure was too high.

-:: !WARNING! // Maximum settings reached // !WARNING! ::-

Settings? Was a Celestia forsaken set of setting holding her back?!

-:: OVERRIDE ::-

All the restraints on Sweeties body suddenly came loose.

-:: Pressure overshooting settings by 100% – 200% – 300% – 500% ::-

There was a loud shriek as the bars started to bend. Little by little the prison bars submitted to her new-found strength. She might have been impressed if she had time to be so. Even so. The sight made hope to fill her mind. And caused her to put even more force behind her pull.

Cracks were beginning to form on the wall.

-:: Redirecting energy to pistons // !WARNING! // Pressure on joints approaching maximum safety limits // !WARNING! // Maximum safety limit reached // !WARNING! // Safety limit Overshot by 10% – 13% – 15% ::-

There was a loud snap as the bolts on the bars came loose from the wall, and the whole thing went sailing upwards.

Unfortunately – so did the wall.

The sudden shift in weight caused all the pressure that had been building up in Sweeties legs to release, and caused her to jump – Backwards.

She fell, backwards. And was engulfed in flames.

She landed on the red hot metal bedframe. The mattress had long since been turned to soot. A Hissing sound, louder than any Sweetie had ever heard assaulted her ears. And she knew it came from her back.

The iron bars and piece of wall fell over her chest. The wallpaper instantly caught fire, loosened from the broken brickwork, and wrapped itself around her torso.

As the fire got up into her face. all rational thought disappeared from Sweeties mind. and was replaced by a single directive.

-:: PANIC ::-

She kicked out with her forehooves. Sending the now glowing prison bars flying of her, and out through the big hole in the wall.

She wailed and flailed and managed to bounce herself out of the bed and down onto the glowing floorboards.

For a second she managed to raise her head and look out into the rainy darkness.

Then her whole vision was engulfed in flames as fer burning mane fell into her eyes.

Panic completely overtook her. with a massive outlet of force from her unrestrained legs, she leaped in the general direction of the gaping hole in the wall, and shot out of the burning prison like a cannonball.

But the flames followed her. They clung to her body . They ate at her fur and her skin. The very nostril hairs in her nose evaporated. All she could see was flames as they dances upon the very surface of the eyes.

Panic caused her to keep running. To run as fast as she could. To get away from the flames. All thoughts of dropping to the ground and rolling around were gone. What would be the point of doing that when she was in the middle of an inferno? No matter how far she ran the fire never ceased. The whole world had been engulfed in flames. Wherever she looked she could only see fire. She had to get away from it. She had to keep running. And that's what she did. Until suddenly, her hooves disappeared under her.

She fell forward. There was a huge splosh. And suddenly, she was under water.

An extremely muddy, grassy bottom of a swamp looked up at her, not two inches from her muzzle.

Her hooves kept running for a while. Until they realized that the flames had stopped following her. That they were just paddling in the water. She stopped. And let herself sink. embracing the mattress of moisty moist and seaweed as she sank to the bottom.

***

She laid there for an unknown time. She laid there until her heart stopped racing. Until the panic in her mind subsided and allowed clear thought to enter her mind. The first thing she did was to just listen to her heart-rhythm slowly calming down. To the deep distant drum it made as it traveled through the water to her ears.

The swamp was not deep. But since she did not need to breathe she could lay there forever. With green and gray particles swimming through the muddy water, so close to her staring eyes that they stuck like dust to her retina.

Sweetie wanted to blink the dust away. But nothing happened.

-:: Blinking sequence initiated ::-

-:: !ERROR! // Eyelid nervecluster not responding // !ERROR! // Eyelid nervecluster not found // !ERROR! ::-

No ... Nonononononono!

Sweetie brought her hooves to her eyes and started scrubbing them clean. But she did not feel anything. She could not turn her sensors back on. Not in her eyes - not in her face - not anywhere! Almost every single exterior sensor laid dormant.

-:: !ERROR! // Catastrophic nerve damage // Exterior sensory grid in standby mode // !ERROR! ::-

Then she looked at her hooves. At the black blurs that waved before her in the shallow murky water. She traces the length of her legs, all the way to the shoulders. And it was black all the way. Should she not at lest be able to see a little white? Even in the murky water?

A horrible realization hit her. So terrifying that it could not be true. But she had to immediately validate its impurity.

She rose from the foul water.

She could not blink. So she had to shake her head several times and wipe her eyes with her muddy hooves to try and get the water out of them. And then she stopped, realizing it was raining, and that her muddy hooves could not get her vision any cleaner (it only made it worse).

She looked down at herself, And even though the edges of her vision was blurry from specks of swamp and raindrops. She could see that her worst nightmares had come true.

There was not a speck of skin left on her forelegs. Tracing the naked metal up her joints she saw the same was true for her chest, and entire front half of her body.

She touched her face. But she felt nothing. All the sensors in her head were offline, disconnected from their nerveclusters. She tried to grab hold of any specks of hair that might hang on from her scalp . But she found nothing. In fact, touching her forehead, her yaw, or any part of her face only produced a cold metallic clang. Even her horn, the one part of her head that should be hard, gave out the same cold tone.

That could only mean ...

Her eyes went cross as she tried to stare at the tip of her own muzzle. It just barely made it into her field of vision. But what she was was not a white little nose, but a gray metal plate.

Her head lowered with despair as the horrible realization weighed down upon her. And as she did, she found herself looking down onto a ribcage. A ribcage of metal bars joined together over clockwork and cybernetics. Stained black by soot and sticky burned tissue. In the center of her chest was a cylindrical object that pounded in tune with her heartbeat sequence.

Turning her head to look back over her rear, she saw that her back hooves had also gotten black burned and stained. And the skin up the legs was severely burnt all the way up to the knees, where the skin just barely hung on as it had detached itself from her cooking metal frame.

Over her back - which had fallen on the red hot iron framework - her entire spine had become visible, almost all the way to the tailbone. Her tail was still there. A ruined, tangled mess of pink, soaked hair that miraculously had only had become lightly scorched at the edge.

And with the edges of the skin hanging so loose - Her rear looked more like some pair of pants made of flesh than actual skin and fur.

And clothes was just what it was. The skin had just been a cover. A meatsack stretched over her true body. But it had been her meatsack! It protected her from all the hurtful eyes. She wanted nothing more than to crawl back into her meatsack again. Wrap it around her like the comforting blanket that it was. She rather endure the frozen rain if she could just have it back.

Like some cruel joke - the only undamaged part of her was her flank.

The soaked, blank flank

Now she felt something. A sharp, straining pain that hit her in the chest like a cannonball. A pain that slowly stretched the imaginary muscles in her chest. As if her heart had been put on the rack, and was slowly being pulled apart, until her chest felt like it would split open.

It was a pain she could not turn off.

She fell back down into the swamp. And wrapped her mechanical legs around her in a fetal position.

"Help .... somepony .... something ... anything ... help me..."

-:: Initiate crying sequence ::-

-:: !ERROR! // Tear sacks not found // !ERROR! ::-

***

Twilight and Rarity were walking through the forest when they heard the sirens. With mixed feelings they continued towards the direction of the sound. On one hoof Twilight knew she'd be happy to find some other ponies. On the other hoof the sirens spelled disaster. And she did not know if that disaster had anything to do with Sweetie or not.

The very thought that somepony might have found her urged them to increase their speed. If somepony had found Sweetie, then they might finally be able to put this affair behind them. (presuming of course – that the state of Sweetie wasn't dire. Or – Celestia forbid. It was actually a robot pony drawing in the authorities.

Twilight pushed the possible consequences of such things out of her mind. The most important thing fight now was to find the little filly.

Regardless if they did not find Sweetie, they would at least be able to ask for help. The possibility also existed that Sweetie would be drawn to the sound sirens just as they were. (For some reason – there was always something about disasters that peaked ponies curiosity.)

Disaster was also the right word to describe this scenario.

When Rarity and Twilight arrived at the site. They were met with row after row of fire trucks and ambulances being parked up a narrow road leading to a gated brick wall.

There was a lonely firefighter standing guard at the edge of that road, with the rain drumming loudly on his helmet.

Twilight walked up and asked him what had happened.

"There has been a massive fire here." he answered" The whole construction has burned to the ground."

"O Celestia. Was anypony hurt?"

"Thankfully no. We have uncovered no bodies in the rubble. It seems like everypony made it out in time."

"Oh. That's good to hear. Listen. We are looking for somepony. Have you by any chance seen a little filly running around here?"

The firefighter thought for a moment.

"Cant say I have. It was complete chaos when we arrived, with everypony crammed up against the insides of the walls trying to get away from the flachover. Its still chaotic and crammed up there. But if not for those walls then ponies would have skattered amongst the trees and disappeared. You should Probably go and talk to somepony who knew a little more about the ponies up there.

But it would be strange if there were fillies here. I did not think they were allowed in a place like this."

"What do you mean? What is this place?"

"This Is - Or was - a mental institute."

With that, he let them pass.

It should send Twilight's heart into some level of ease that nopony had been hurt. That should men that sweetie. If she was here, wasn't hurt either. Still, the place gave of a very negative vibe (as per usual - when disaster have struck) that only increased as the two mares walked closer to the disaster site. And the gated walls surrounding it.

They were stopped at the gates by a sickly looking, pale mare with a rain slicked green mane sticking out from under a plastic bag.

“Are you here about a relative or are you here to reinforce us?" She said extremely bluntly. "Cause if your not gonna take a workload off us, then scram.”

Twilight thought she was more than a little rude. But decided to reason that the mare must be having the worst workday of her life.

“Yes. We where wondering if you have seen a filly somewhere. White fur, Pink hair … ”

“Hm. Sounds like the doctors little chew toy. You better talk to him.”

Twilight did not like the way she made that sound.

She and Rarity followed the nurse through the crowd. The entire yard had been covered in tents, emergency shelters, and sometimes not more than plastic sheets suspended on sticks in an attempt to give at least some cover from the rain. In the back was the biggest pile of burned lumber Twilight had ever seen. The remains of a mighty mansion that were still smoldering in the rain. Rain that was falling so hard on the fabricated roofs that the entire enclosure had been turned into a drumming contest.

The sound only partially managed to dry out the suffering sounds of crying, screaming, begging and all around moaning coming from by the many, many pony’s that had previously been residences of the now smoldering institute.

Twilight had never seen a sadder bunch of broken ponies.

An elderly mare was crying like a foal and beating her attempting caretaker with a maracas. A pony clearly suffering from a bad case of reverse aging syndrome. And ponies with a few chromosomes too much - or too few.

She tried not to be prejudiced. But these were the leftovers of ponykind. Those who had drawn the short straw on nature's breeding lottery. Victims of their own minds. Ponies in desperate need of help to get through the best of days, that now had been forced out into these dire, confusing circumstances.

Ponies were herded in so tight that you couldn't walk without rubbing elbows with somepony. The mares and stallions were wrapped in blankets - Or sometimes each other - trying to keep the heat around fireplaces and storm-kitchens. Everypony who wasn't a patient was trying to get somewhere. Everywhere there was some doctor or nurse cheeking on the patients while aid workers ran back and forth between the tents carrying food, blankets or medicine trying to keep everypony supplied. Those that did were drenched in the rain and covered knee high in mud, since what might once have been a decent patio had been trampled up into a muddy mess.

Adding to the cacophony was the still ongoing shrieking and blinking of the sirens. The shouts of the staff, and somewhere Twilight thought she could even hear a dog growling amongst the midst.

Despite the chaos. Twilight thought there was something beautiful in the misery. Something about all these ponies working together to aid their fellow pony, even in the most dire of circumstances, touched her deeply.

Their guide led them through the chaos to a tent in the back, close to the smoldering ruins. thought tent was a bit generous, since it was more of an open rain sheet suspended over a storage area. Underneath the plastic roof, overlooking a stack of inflatable mattresses and some barrels of carrot juice, was a bespectacled orange stallion. His coat was soaking wet, and spectacles steamy from rain.

Despite the circumstances he tried to smile as the mares approached him.

"Dr Cardiac is the name. Cardiac Candlewick" He said and stretched out a hoof covered in mud.

"What can I help you fine mares with this evening?"

Rarity hesitated for a second before returning the friendly gesture. (And shook his hoof without removing her mud covered boot)

Twilight looked around. But the nurse that brought them here had already disappeared, without a word. As she in turn shook the doctors hoof She wondered is saying good evening would be inappropriate since it was clear that nopony was having a good evening. After introductions were done she decided to skip right to business.

“Excuse me for the intrusion sir. But we were wondering of you have seen a little filly ...

“You mean Sweetie Belle.”

Twilight and Rarity looked at each other.

“You know her?”

Cardiac gave them a hard, disappointing look.

“Yes. I met that little filly. She came by here not a few days ago. Cold, wet, and hungry. She seemed... confused to say the least. For you see. She seemed to believe that she was a robot."

Twilight swallowed.

"But in her case the problem was more in kin to the fact that she was a robot whom believed she was a little filly.“

Both Rarity and twilight swallowed simultaneously.

“Did she tell you?”

“She didn't tell me anything. I did not confront her with it. She had clearly already run away from people who confronted her with it. Rather I waited, or I was going to wait, till she was ready to talk about it herself.”

Rarity and Twilight exchanged looks.

“You ... You knew?”

"Of course I knew! I have always known! Or have you forgotten?"

He locked eyes With Rarity. The fashistona opened her mouth to say something. But no sound came out of her.

Cardiac took a few steps closer. His deep blue eyes pierced Rarity, even through the wet glasses. His stern, disappointed face seemed have to become carved in stone as he stared down Rarity.

She trembled under his glare but was at the same time unable to look away. Finally he was close enough for their muzzle's to touch, and it seemed like Rarity was on the brink of breaking under his glare. Until he suddenly raised his forehooves, and wrapped them around her in a big hug.

"Its great to see you again. Little Miss Rarity. "

All the demeanor had disappeared from his voice.

"You have grown into such a fine young mare. I only wish our reaquainance was under better circubstances."

Twilight was stunned.

"You... know each other?"

"I ..." Rarity stammered "I don't remember."

Cardiac sighed.

“So that's how it is” He said. “That's why you never told her.”

Twilight interrupted

“I'm … I'm sorry. But how do you know?”

“Come” He said. “Lets talk.”

Twilight and Rarity was led into the back of the storage area. from where they had a clear view of the ruins of the estate. Some fire fighting ponies were still gowning around in the rubble pointing their hoses wherever appropriate. But it was clear that they were in the last part of the extinguishing process. The sirens had thankfully stopped ringing even if blue lanterns still flashed over the sad scene.

Dr Cardiac pulled out a lantern, Ignited it, and placed it on a barrel around which they sat down, with nothing more than a few wooden crates of canned food as chairs.

The mares from Ponyville shared their story as best they could. Rarity had an easier time opening up to Dr Cardiac than she had to Twilight, and with far less mental/emotional breakdowns.

Maybe it was just because the psychologist was an easy pony to talk to. And it helped that he seemed to have pre-existing knowledge of Sweeties condition. (Never once did he interrupt because a story about a metal mare seemed absurd) Something that completely botched Twilight's head. If she earlier had been able to blame Sweeties spontaneous robotnix on some collective insanity on the Belle family – it was now becoming an impossibility as yet another pony, a stranger, confirmed Rarity's story.

Sadly. He could not provide much information beyond the fact that he knew Sweeties secret.

"I got contacted threw some second hand sources. They wanted me to preform a psychic evaluation of a very special little filly. They said it was a secret project of theirs, And that discretion was the name of the game.

Naturally I was skeptical. And it did not ease my suspicion that I was brought to the place blindfolded and drugged. I was only allowed to meet a select few of their staff. And was restricted to what areas I could enter. With all the secrecy I was a little disappointed at what they showed me. All I could see was a perfectly normal little filly. Curious, playful, And happy."

At this, Rarity turned her face away, and magically summoned a napkin to wipe her eyes.

"I found no abnormality in her behavior, and my psychiatric evaluation was actually quite boring. The others could not stop smiling, and seemed very proud over something that went straight over my head. They thanked me for my work, paid me, and would have sent me on my way none the wiser. But it had been a long day and I was permitted to spend the night. That's when I decided to get to know the family of this little wonder-filly."

He gave half a chuckle.

"If not for your parents. I would have been none the wiser.

They convinced one of the doctors to show me the truth. Didn't take that much convincing as he was quite exited about their little secret. He laughed at the look on my face when they showed me the x-rays. He even preformed x-ray spells on the filly herself when I questioned the pictures. I was surprised to say the least."

"But not half as surprised as I would be, when yesterday she showed up here. On the doorstep to my hospital, several years later. Drenched, starving and exhausted!" He said accusingly.

Rarity lowered her head.

Cardiac sighed.

"I'm sorry. I know You are not the type to throw a filly out of a home. Not unless my evaluation of you was the gravest mistake in my career."

Ouch. Twilight could feel that pain even though the blow wasn't directed at her.

Cardiac wiped his glasses of on his shirt.

“Its a shame you cant remember me. You left quite the impression on me, even to our time together was brief. But I guess that's understandable. Since those ponies were not very nice. Once they found out that I knew more than they wanted me to, the rest of them were ... not too happy. As they shipped me off they left me with a warning. They told me that nobody would believe me. They guaranteed that I would be the one diagnosed with madness and put in a small cell with a very tight jacket on me.”

He sighed.

"And if they left that kind of impression on me. How hard must it not have been for one so young as you, little miss Rarity? I can understand why you don't want to remember. Selective memory can be like a defense mechanism. It singles out all the bad things to protect the mind.

I'm guessing that was why you never wanted to talk to your sister about the past. You wanted to protect her from all the horror and sorrow.”

Rarity gave a silent nod. Twilight could clearly see the tears streaming down her already wet face. Her napkin was already soaked.

"You knew that it was the right thing to do to keep those things from her. Cardiac continued "For her sake you carried all that locked up inside yourself."

Rarity curled herself closer and closer up into a ball. Twilight was about to tell Cardiac to stop. but he had already done that. Once again he got up and hugged the mare.

"You are such a good sister." He said.

Now Rarity did something unexpected. She took several deep breaths (Twilight thought she was just struggling not to cry) - And Roared.

“But then WERE IS SHE!?!” Rarity screamed.

Cardiac sighed.

"I don't know."

"Don't know?" Rarity's eyelid twitched in disbelief. "What do you mean you don't know!? You should be the one looking after her! Is she hiding or something!? where did you last see her!?"

Cardiac sighed, and turned his head towards the still smoldering aches.

Twilight's heart sank like a rock in water. And Rarity visibly deflated.

"No! No that cant be."

She looked at Cardiac. Begging him to say that her worst fears were unfounded.

"But." Twilight stammered "They said no pony had been hurt in the fire. They said no bodies had been recovered."

"I know." Said Cardiac "And that's why I don't know where she is. I have checked and double checked all the staff and inmates, and I cant find her. No one has seen her. All I know is that she did not leave through the front door."

"Why not? Why would she not go with everypony else?"

"Maybe for the same reasons she ran away from everypony else in the first place."

For a second, that harsh scolding look was back in his eyes, but he quickly lost his demeanor. He sat back down on his box, and took of his glasses to rub his eyes.

"So she just left everypony when the fire started?"

Cardiac let out a dry laugh.

"Left? Ha. That was the only thing I did not see her do. When the fire started, She ran around waking us all up. She would not leave the building until she knew every pony else was safe. And from what I heard she put herself at great risk doing so. I do not really understand why, all things given. But if not for her, then things might have gone far, far worse."

"In fact ... the last mare who exited the building was..."

As if on cue. They were aborted by a fierce growling, And a mare calling out.

“DOCTOR I CAN'T HOLD HER ANY LONGER!”

Twilight turned. Wondering what manner of wild dog that caused such a commotion.

What she saw was rather the incarnation of pony gone primate. One of the patients. A light blue mare with a mess of a wild gray mane and tail, were standing on her back legs, pulling against a leash held by a single unicorn nurse that had to put her entire body weight in holding the creature back. The eyes of the madmare war practically glowing red. Her growling only partially muffed by the muzzle that was tightly trapped over her face. Drool and froth dripped out of the trapping lattice. The nurses levitated a heavy needle unto the mares neck. But whatever the content of the syringe, it only seemed to have half of the desired effect. The madmare dropped to all four but still continued to pull in the direction of the smoldering ruins.

Dr Cardiac got up and walked over towards the madmare. Twilight felt she had little other choice but to follow – else she would loose him in the crowd. Not that there was any crowding around the mare. Everypony seemed to give her a wide berth.

“Haven't you given her a sedative dose already?” He asked the nurse.

“I have.” The nurse muttered through the leach. “That was the third dose. At this rate we are gonna run out of sedative's. And we are running low on resources as it is”

Dr Cardiac simply walked up in front of the madmare (seemingly with disregard for his own safety). And looked the mare deep into the eyes.

Whatever hypnotics the doctor pulled, they worked. Twilight had never seen a mares shift mood so fast. In a flash the viral beast was gone and replaced with a docile puppy, whimpering as sadly as she could. She rubbed her head against Dr Cardiac in a way that reminded Twilight of what Winona did with Applejack.

Once again. The doctor suddenly lashed out and hugged a mare.

“I know. You miss her. I know.” He whispered as he held the mare in his embrace.

The nurse let go of the leash. And the mare did not try to attack the doctor.

Who did attack however, was Rarity. She threw herself at the crazy mare. Pushing Dr Cardiac out of the way as she did so. And started screaming in the mares face.

"WHERE DID YOU GET IT?! WHERE!?!" She screamed in the mares face as she started pulling at the mares gray mane.

Twilight didn't know what was scarier. Rarity or the mare.

Tangled in the mess that was the mares gray mane was some pink and purple fabric. It looked like the mare had attempted to tie a ribbon (and failed miserably at it). What the importance of a piece of fabric held to Rarity was something that eluded Twilight. But clearly it was important enough for her friend to almost tear the mare's mane off as she tried to get at it.

"THIS WAS SWEETIES!" Rarity screamed as she held the ribbon, still tangled in the mares long mane, up in front of her face.

"WHERE DID YOU GET IT!?!"

"She cant answer you, you know." Said the nurse.

"Well of course not!" Rarity yelled. Her horn lit up, and before anypony could stop her she had magically removed the muzzle trappings from the mares face. She repeated her question. But the only thing she got in response was a big tongue, licking her square across the face.

“Wha...??”

That seemed to disable Rarity's fury.

The doctor walked up and scratched the mare behind the ear.

"Easy girl. Easy."

Rarity just stared at the mare. Her expression was stuck somewhere between rage and shock, Her chin wagged as she was unable to form the question.

"Wha... wha... wha...?"

Twilight, who had never seen the mare act like this, had to finish the question for her.

"wha... what is wrong with her?"

"This is Screwloose. And she has always been a special case. Basically she believes herself to be canine. She is a bit aggressive sometimes, but usually not dangerous... Until now." He sighed.

"These events have affected her bad. She was the last one to exit the building. She was completely out of herself, and attacked one of the other inmates out of the blue. A miss Marrow I believe?"

He looked at the nurse for conformation, and the nurse nodded.

"If not for these it would take tree ponies to hold her back." She said, waiving her syringe in her magic.

Then, for some reason. She bit off the needle, before putting the syringe away.

"She has been like this ever since we removed miss Marrow from her jaws." The nurse continued to mutter through the needle in her teeth.

"Of all the ponies here, I think she suffers Sweetie's absence the hardest. Said Cardiac. "Screwloose here was very found of the little miss you see.”

Screwloose, who never never broke eye contact with Rarity. Walked up and sniffed on the stunned fashistona. She barked happily and waged her tail. Rarity tried to shoo the crazy mare away. But to no avail.

“And she seem to be very found of... you?” Cardiac said . A bit confused by her behavior.

The light-blue mare continued her cuddling assault until Rarity had to use both hooves just to prevent the mare from further liking her in the face.

"Odd." Said Cardiac "The only other pony shes been so quick to warm up to was Sweetie."

At the mentioning of her sisters name. Rarity ceased her resistance. The mare got inside her deference, and immediately fell into her chest, warping her forelegs around her in a big hug.

It was strange. Twilight thought she could see so much understanding in those red eyes. They were far clearer than the eyes of an insane pony had any right to be.

Rarity looked back. And now it was like the two of them bonded.

"Have you seen my sister?" Rarity asked.

The mare nodded.

"Where?"

Screwloose barked and immediately started ran off into the ashes, faster than the firefighters at the cordon could stop her. The others quickly followed. The firefighters wanted to stop them as well. But Cardiac quickly convinced them to let them through. Saying that they were gonna recover the mad mare.

The "recovery" consisted of them slowly following the mare into the ruins. Screwloose walked with her nose to the ground, sniffing as she walked across the still hot aches. She was turning and waling down corridors that were no longer there. Finally she stopped in one of the rear reaches of the ruble. And sniffed in the ash.

Everypony feared the worst. What if she dug up a piece of bone - or a metal skeleton. Twilight tried not to remind herself what the melting temperature for steel was. And how fire and a collapsed building would affect it.

But Screwloose continued to sniff, soloing some sort of trace that eventually led out of the rear end ruble, and out towards the forest.

She increased her speed and ran off towards the trees. The caretakers screamed at her to stop. And, surprisingly, she did.

"What are you doing girl?" Cardiac asked.

Screwloose started barking at them and flinging her head out towards the trees. Nodding in the direction she had been heading.

Following that she - clearly growing inpatient as her gestures failed to register with her followers - raised a hoof and grabbed the ribbon in her mane. Taring it out (along with a good chunk of gray mane). She threw the fabric up into the air and let it hit her nose. She juggled it with her nose, sniffing loudly as she did. Finally she let the fabric hit the ground. She sniffed at it again - then sniffed the ground. Then the ribbon. Then the ground. And barked.

The behavior was something Twilight would expect from Winona. But from a mare? Could she really mean what she was implying?

Only Rarity stared at the mare with some semblance of wishfull understanding.

"Can you find my sister?"

Screwloose barked.

"Then what are you waiting for? Search, girl. Search!"

"Rarity wait!" Twilight shouted. But Rarity was already on her way into the woods. Galloping after the mad mare. Twilight tried to give chase. But her legs gave out under her, and she almost fell face first into the rain soaked ground. Days of galloping around the forest had finally caught up with her. She cursed her physical weakness as she magically massaged the cramping muscles. Only for a wave of headache to hit her right below the horn. Exhaustion was taking out its toll on her. Her body wanted nothing more than to sit back and rest.

Yet. Twilight knew she had to follow.

"I'm sorry Dr cardiac. But it looks like we are gonna have to cut out meeting short. My friend needs me. And so does her sister."

"Well it looks like you are gonna need all the help you can get. Besides. I cant have two of my patients running around in the forest."

"Two?"

"I never checked Sweetie out of my care. And I will be damned if I don't do everything in my power to help."

He turned to the red haired nurse.

"Can you go and fetch Brick. Ask him where he put the wagon. And see if you cant get some supplies. Me, I'm gonna make some preparations."

He turned back to Twilight.

"You. Wait here." He said, as bout he and the nurse ran back across the ruins and disappeared into the crowd.

That was easier said than done. Even though her leg was cramping, Twilight felt an irresistible urge to chase after her friend. She could feel the distance to Rarity increase with each passing moment. Whatever preparations the Doctor was gonna do. She hoped he would do them fast.

Soon a black wagon, pulled by a broad, thick necked stallion rounded the corner of the wall. Next to it walked the doctor, his red haired nurse. And the unhappy, green haired nurse. Who was currently arguing with Cardiac.

"You're leaving?" She asked disapprovingly. “Then who is gonna be in charge of this mess?”

“The firefighters and police are the ones in charge now. As for keeping the patient calm, I hereby make you temporarily head medical chief, miss Green.

"Did you hear that sister. You get to be in charge while we go find the missing patients" Said the red haired nurse, and hugged her clearly surprised sibling.

"WE?” Bout Cardiac and and the green haired sister said with one voice. "Sully Green. I actually meant you." Said Cardiac.

"Oh no you don't. Said Sully "Cause if I remember correctly, Boss put me in charge of that little miss. And no little miss's are gonna go missing on my watch."

"Mine neither." Said the stallion.

The green haired one laughed for once.

"Well. At least Its gonna be easier now that even more inmates are leaving. If we are lucky, they might all have left out care by Hearths Warming Eve."

Cardiac froze.

"Wait. What do you mean - even more inmates? Has someone else disappeared? Why was I not informed about this?"

"Oh I would not say disappeared. Just released from our care."

"Who?"

"That Marrow fellow. The one who your Screwed up lapdog tried to eat. A pair of relatives swung by a couple of hours ago to pick her up."

"Relatives?!" Cardiac cursed. "Marrow had checked herself in years ago. And her family lives on the other side of the continent! How could you just check out one of our patients to a total stranger."

The Green haired nurse shrugged.

"They seemed legit. Had all her personal information and everything. And they clearly knew each other like they were brother and sister. And with all we have on our hooves we could do without one more crazy. Besides, Marrow was one of the more stable ones.”

Dr Cardiac just stared at the mare.

"Brother? Nurse Soylent, Marrow was an only child. What made you think they were relatives?"

Soylent's facial expression shifted. It seemed to finally dawn on her that she had made a mistake.

"Well ... he was the same yellow color as she was. I believe he was a preacher or something. Or one of those Celestia's witnesses. Had quite a nasty black eye. The other one was quite the handsome stallion. Dark colors, blue eyes. Said he was the family doctor. Had all the personal information. Seemed legit."

Cardiac looked like he wanted to give nurse Soylent a black eye. But he was a self-possessed stallion. He simply removed his glasses, scratched his eyes, And sighed deeply.

"Well then, Miss Soylent. I AM leaving you in charge of this "whole mess" If anypony has a single question they can take it up with you. Since you already seem it fit to discharge patients without consulting me.”

The mare cursed under her teeth.

“Don't worry sister." Said nurse Sully "You always wanted to be on top, without anypony looking over your back.” She let the needle make a lap over her lips. “Just make sure nothing else “disappears” while we are gone.”

While the Doctor and sisters were arguing. The broad stallion moved to help Twilight get up. He checked on her leg and pointed out that she should rest for a while. Since she looked like she had been running a mareathon in the rain.

To that end he pushed up the wagon and opened the back door.

"Ladies first."

Twilight was a little skeptical to the mattress clad interior of the wagon, which looked like it was meant to transport mental patients. But her sore legs did not complain.

The red haired nurse sneered, something about "Prick" to the stallion, and walked in as well. While Cardiac fastened himself in the wagons pulling-harnesses next to Brick. And so they left the compound and the angry nurse Soylent behind them, and headed into the woods.

They soon caught up with Rarity. who had thankfully stopped as Screwloose needed relieve herself on a nearby tree.

Brick once again opened the door with a "Ladies first." And a big smile on his fat face.

“Oh well thank you” said Rarity. And for a moment she actually acted like a lady. Much to Twilight's relief.

Soon they were of through the forest. The mares riding in the back while the stallions pulled the wagon, following a crazy mare that could somehow track down a little robot. None of this made any sense. But Twilight was happy that they finally had a fresh lead on Sweetie.

She only hoped that it would all be over soon.

Chapter 12. Toy Soldier

Sweetie walked. And while she walked, she thought.

She thought about what Dr Cardiac could have wanted from her.

The mad mare's words spun in her mind. That Dr Cardiac had wanted to use her for study. That he wanted to dissect her for psychological science.

Had he really intended to do any of that?!

She began to wonder. Why had no one asked where she came from? Who her parents where? Or even what her name was? Did they just not care for that about mental patients? Did he to want to hide the truth from her?! Did he to want her to think she was just a normal crazy filly?! When she thought about it, it had been awfully suspicious how he had compared a real wrinkled brain with computer programs.
He had made her believe that she was not so different. BUT LOOK AT HER NOW!

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Hate over her appearance turned to hate for the mare who had hurt her. Who had set her on fire and almost burned every pony do death. She hoped she had been caught in the flames. Everypony should have been caught by the flames and burned, except Sweetie belle!
Why, why, why had she tried to save those disgusting pony's who only drooled all over themselves!?

Sweetie threw a tantrum for the 57'th time. She lashed out at the trees and the ground and the stupid stupid rain! She hated the world and everypony in it. And above all else she hated herself. She hated that she was a robot. She hated the way others looked and she hated the mare who had taken her looks away from her. She hated that that mare had tried to kill everypony. And she hated that she had not been able to stop her.

Her wild wailing died out as hatred giving way to sadness.

Sadness that she had been unable to stop the crazy mare. Sorrow that she had lost her skin. For all the things she had been able to do, saving herself wasn't one of them.

Hatred for herself returned when she thought of how she had just stood there like an idiot while the place burned. She hated that those stupid sequences had made her tremble with fear at the worse possible moment. She hated that shock and panic had made her unable to think clearly. She hated that she had settings that limited her strength and made her unable to pull out in time.

Why? Why was this body set to be so weak? Why was her exterior so fragile? Why was her skin and fur and hair so fragile. Why did she bleed every time she cut herself. Why was her exterior not made from sterner stuff?

She wanted something to cover herself in. To protect herself with. Something hard ans sturdy. Something that wasn't gonna fall apart when you put a little knife to it. Something that wasn't gonna burn off. If somepony ever attacked her again, she wanted to be stronger, better. If she wanted to go on, she needed to improve herself. Reinforce herself. It was bad enough to leave all her inner parts exposed to the rain. She might begin to rust.

Wait! Why was she thinking like that? Where had those voices come from?

She knocked on her head. Stupid voices. Out of her head. She did not want to think of herself that way. She did not want to think of herself as a robot...

But she was... There was no denying it now...

And that thought only led to more hate. Hate for the mare who had robbed her of her skin. The mare she had been to weak to defend herself against.

She shook her head to break this circular argument. Not wanting to get a 58'th tantrum. There was really no logical point to loose herself to such violent emotions. It would only drain her batteries...

She shook her head again. Not thinking like that. She needed something else to focus on.

Her belly gave up an ominous rumble. She felt hunger seeping back into her mind. Along with all the voices telling her what her body was doing, in response to this.

-:: Contents of Stomach dropping // Initiating hunger sequence ::-
-:: Stomach nervecluster adjusting settings to "Hungry" ::-
-:: Activating hunger subroutines // Executing stomach growl ::-

Sweetie had not given her belly much thought before. She had just thought of the hunger as a warning signal that the was about to run out of energy. That she needed to refuel - to eat. Just as anypony else.

Some part of her thought that the nerve cluster in her stomach was connected to a real belly. Just like the nerve clusters on her skin connected to sensors. In a way she had thought it was some form of proof that she had a real belly. That there were real organs inside of her. But if what that mare had said was true. Then even her belly was a metallic construct. What did that say about her other organs? Were they all mechanical? Were it just recordings of pain that played, whenever her systems got pushed a little to far?

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Why should she think about anything that mare had said?! She was just some stupid crazy mare. And just how could it be her hunger?
Sweetie didn't want a part of that mare inside of her.

But she did not dare turn off her hunger. No matter how hard she wanted. No matter how hard it had been to go hungry the last time. Robots needed to eat to did they not? They needed to refuel. But how? The only way Sweetie knew to charge up was to eat and sleep.
The rumbling must be a sign that her energy was running low.

What would happen if she completely ran out of energy? What if she shut down here in the middle of the woods? Would she just lie here in the wet grass, unable to move? Paralyzed. Trapped in the shell of her own nonfunctional body! Forever!

Or at least until somepony found her and refueled her. But why wold anypony ever find her? Why would they look for her in the first place? Everypony hated her. Everypony wanted to destroy her. If they did find her, then best case scenario was that just leave her and let her rust.

No. That thought was too scary for her to let it come true. She had to fill her belly with something. Even if that had to be grass. Even if grass had made her puke.

And who had programmed a robot to puke anyway? The thought made her so mad. In fact, just because of that she was going to take control of that program. Like she had taken control of her skin and her voice, she was gonna take control of whatever stupid program that made her throw up.

Despite how bad she knew it tasted, she bent down and took a big moistly mouthful of the rain slicked grass. It taster bitter. Of course it did, she still had her tongue after all. She chewed and swallowed, and as she did, she mentally followed the bundle down her throat. Feeling it go down her throat. Feeling it rub against the sensors in what was the tube that ran from the back oh her mouth to the sack in her inner.
Felt all the systems and subroutines that pushed the grass down her digestion tube and into her belly (along with a vacume cleaning-like function that sucked the grass into her belly). Where a small scanner waited to analyze the substance.

-:: Hazardous material detected ::-
-:: Rejecting ::-
-:: Flushing systems ::-

No, she told it. No! It was not gowning to make her puke again.

She focused on her belly. It was getting ready to trow up The vacume was already reversing to blow the material out of her. She made it stop. But the program came back and started up the rejection again. This time she focused on the program itself. She told it no. It was her belly and she decided what stayed in it. This mind controlling spell had to go away.

Suddenly, all the need to puke was gone. She took a few more bites of grass. And even though it tasted gross. The Rejection program did not return.

***

The rain continued to pour down. Even though she could not feel it, she could hear the raindrops drumming on her. As the water poured through her exposed gears thoughts of worry began to pour into her mind.

What if the water got into her systems? What if she really did started to rust?

With that she became even more anxious to get out of the rain.
She stated running through the forest. Splashing up puddles as she went. She kept her eyes open for any form of shelter, for any way out of the forest. For anything. It was easy, for she could not blink. She had no eyelids. And the rain drummed on her eyes so fiercely it was clouding her vision.

She had to stop and pull her metal hoof over her eyes to wipe some of the moist away. Not being able to close her eyes was really stating to get to her.

Not that she thought she would be able to see much better with eyelids anyway. The forest was so dark, it hardly mattered. Everything looked the same anyway. Trees, trees and more trees. Encapsulated by a curtain of rain and darkness so thick that nothing seemed to exist outside her little bubble of perception.

She did not know if she was running in circles or not. She could not see any stars in the sky. Not that she had been into astronomy. But she would at least be able to pick a constellation and walk towards it. She had heard a few Hearts Warming Eve tales about ponies lost in the snow, who walked towards a star in the sky. A star that guided them towards a new home.

Where was her Hearts Warming Eve star?! Which constellation would guide her to a new home?

She wondered which constellation would lead to Ponyville, to Mr and junior Branch. To Cardiac and Screwloose. She wanted to find her way back to anywhere just so she could get out of the rain.

But would they ever want to see her when she looked like this!?

She ran until her legs grew tiered.

She stopped to rest a moment against a tree. She should be panting for breath, but she had none. She had not dared to turn her lungs back on out of fear that they be damaged by all the smoke and fire.

She looked at her tired little legs. the same legs that had ripped steel bars from their sockets where now aching with tiredness from a little waking. Or were they? Could machines really feel tired? How could cold steel feel any fatigue of exhaustion or pain? Was all the lactic acid she should be feeling just another recording? A little pre-recorded set of feelings that played over her systems (just like she was able to make her voice recordings play over her voicebox) whenever she pushed herself beyond a set limit of settings.

Who had given her those settings? Better yet - Who had given her these feelings? How did one record all the things one pony felt in their body and put it in a machine? And just who wanted a robot to feel tired anyway!

She could have shut these feelings of fatigue off. But she didn't. It would just felt wrong to not feel anything. Just like it felt wrong to not breathe, or be able to close your eyes.

She put her hooves over her eyes to block out her vision.

She wanted to feel tired. She wanted to be hungry. Because that was what a normal little pony would do. And she was a pony.

Unless - that too was a recording? If all her physical feelings were just recordings of some real pony's pain. Then what did that say about her psychology? What if all her feelings and emotions were just pre-recorded stuff that some other pony had lived through?

Was that really all she was? Just data sequences and pre-recorded emotions? Was there any part of her that was her own? The thought that somepony had wired her mind to be a specific way was scary enough. But what if she didn't have a mind at all?! What if all that she was, every thought, every feeling, were just recordings from somepony else.

Who had that pony been? Was it even just one pony? Or was it several? Celestia forbid that all of her recordings came from that crazy, crazy mare. Would that not mean that she was a copy of that mare?

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Sweetie raised her hoof to take her returning anger out on the tree. She wanted these parts out of her. She did not want to have anything to do with that evil mare. She did not want to feel like that mare had felt.

She stopped her blow mid air. If her emotions really was recordings. Then did that mean somepony else had felt this way before? But ... how could anypony else had been in this situation? Let alone - how would those who had made her know this would happen to her, and program her to feel accordingly?

Sweetie put her hooves back over her eyes. It was all just so confusing. She was just so confused.
These thoughts were gonna make her head hurt. (Or was that just a recording of somepony else's headache?)

She let her hooves fall to the ground. Her heart felt so heavy it threatened to drag her down through the ground and into the underworld. But... If this painful feeling in her chest was just a recording. Could she not turn it off? Or at the very least hit the pause button on it for just a little while. And maybe play some happy emotions instead.

The thought was equally tempting and terrifying. On one hoof she did not want to feel this way any more. And if the was a way to rid herself of these negative emotions, she would do it.
But at the same time, if she turned them off. Would that not be like turning herself off? What if she stopped being Sweetie? Could she even do that? Could she turn off the things that made her who she was?

She adjusted her position, and let her tired head lean to rest her yaw upon her shoulder ... and that's when she saw it.

A small glimmer of light that pierced through the bubble of darkness. A light far of in the distance, able to shine through the thickness of the forest, and the rain. far away enough to appear as but the flicker of a distant star on the black night sky.
A star that had come down to earth to shine for her.

Sweetie got up.
Finally some happy emotions played on her heart. Joyed that she had found something to follow. Hope of where it might lead.

Maybe the light could lead her out of this cursed nightmare. Maybe it could lead her to a better life. If nothing else it had to lead to something. And anything was better than this cured forest.

Maybe she had found her hearts warming star after all.

***

Her star was actually a big neon sign.

Metallhoof's Gears and Grocery's

It was attached to the roof of what looked like a big barn, that laid all alone at the side of a bigger road.

Getting closer she saw that the barn big glass windows one associates with stores. But the windows looked black and lonely. The place looked abandoned. Why should it not be? Everypony was probably home celebrating Heart warming eve by now.

She pressed her nose up against the glass. In the sparse light from the neon sign above she could just barely make out that there was a store inside. And the store was full of goodies.

Her belly rumbled again, and she could feel the inside of her mouth salivating. She could not resist the taste of sweets any longer. (Besides, she ran on sugar, did she not?)

The door was unlocked. Carefully she pushed it up, only a little bit, and pressed herself through the tight gap as to not set of the bell above the door. Her frame must be smaller than she dared to imagine since it actually worked.

The store was decorated for hearts warming eve. And it had a lot of sweets for the celebration. Biscuits, cakes, pastries,even some sweet, sweet crunchy serials shaped like Hearths Warming trees.

She knew stealing was wrong, but she was desperate. Pony's would have to have some oversight with a starving filly. Besides. She was not about to devour all the cakes that laid in the open. Rather she discretely pulled out one of the cereal boxes.

She opened the package and started to munch down the crunchy contents.

Her taste sensors where overjoyed with the sugary flavor. So much that she tore into another package. And another.

The light suddenly came on in the shop. Sweetie turned her head to see a tall green stallion standing in the doorway. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Or a metallic monster in this case.

Sweetie dropped the Crunchy box and recoiled.

“Oh please Sir.” She pleaded. “Please do not be frightened by me. I know I look horrid but I promise I just want some thing to eat.”

She slowly backed away towards the front door with her tail between her legs.

“I know its stealing but I was just so hungry and...”

Before she could finish the stallion sprung towards her, dropped to his knees and caught her in a big, strong hug.

“Welcome home child!” He cried “Welcome home, my child.”

***

“So ... you were the one who made me?”

Sweetie was sitting on the counter. The green stallion - Who had introduced himself as Molten Metalhoof - had lifted her up to get a better look at her. She did not want to be looked at, but she was still a bit in shock over the way he had embraced her so lovingly.

In turn Sweetie got a good look at him. He was a tall green earth pony with a large belly. He had a gray mane and tale and a stylish braided gray beard. His green eyes bore not the haunting looks she had grown to fear over the last days, but those of a loving parent who sees their child for the first time in forever.

“Yes. In a way you could say I am your father.” He chuckled. His chuckle was warm and cozy. Like a big Santa-hooves.

Sweetie felt uncomfortable with him calling himself that. She did not want a total stranger for a father.
But. How could her parents be her real parents if this stallion had made her? Didn't that make him her father?
Furthermore. Did that mean that her parents had bought/ordered her from him? Did this mean she was adopted? Was this how it was to be adopted? She feared Scootaloo's words where becoming even more true. Her parents had her built instead of adopting her friend.

-:: Initiate cry sequence ::-
-:: !ERROR! // Tear sacs not found // !ERROR! ::-

Sweeties yaw quivered and she raised her hoof to wipe the tears. Then she remembered that she had no more tears. In fact she could not even close her eyes. She had no eyelids.

-:: Panic level increasing // Initiate trembling sequence ::-

She began to shake. She covered her eyes with her hooves and started tried to hold back the sobs. She did not want to cry in front of a stranger. and to that end, it was probably better that she had no tears to fell.

-:: If I cried, my cheeks would probably start to rust ::-

She shook her head. She was thinking of herself that way again.

“Why are you crying”. Mr Molten asked “Is it not great to be home?“

She tried to force a smile.

“No. I'm just … glad you took me out of the rain before I started to … Rust”. She spat out the last word like it tasted badly..

Metalhoof Chuckled again

“You could never start to rust.”

Sweeties shivers ended as curiosity took hold.

“I can't?”

Metalhoof put his elbows on the counter and raised his forehoofs. Allowing Sweetie to see that they where covered with gray, metal like spots.

“I made you with my own two hooves. Of a very special metal. A secret recipe that I made myself.”

He then began telling her tale of her construction. That most of her “Cybernetic muscles” where made of, as he called it "Flexible alloys."

“It's hard as steel, yet flexible like rubber. It can bend an stretch, like the muscles on the bones.” It was necessary, not the least for your face. So you could make all the facial expressions possible."

Sweetie touched her cheek. Could she even make a single expression without sin on her face?

"You are modeled after a real pony. Down to the tiniest screw. Personally I think it has many limits. The possibilities of metal go far beyond the limitations of flesh.”

“Metal has many limits too.” Said Sweetie. Thinking about the height measurement the CMC had held. How she was soon to become the shortest in class. “Like never being able to grow.”

“That's not true." Said Metalhoof. “But, you do look the same size as when last I saw you. Have your parents not been feeding you enough?”

Sweetie did not understand.

Molten's eyes narowed.

“They never told you this, did they?”

“No”

Metalhoof facehoofed.

“Of course they didn't.” Because if they had, you should have grown.”

He then when on to explain that her "distribution system" would have allow her to grow by absorbing raw materials.

Sweeties ears peaked. Would she be able to grow if she ate metal?

“Please. Tell me how”'

Metalhoof Chuckled.

"Well. I'm glad to have caught your interest."

He began to explain.

"Of all the things about you Sweetie, it is your belly that I'm the most proud of. Truly a work of art. A combination of arcane science and mechanical ingenuity. Designed to break down anything that was fed into it into microscopic pieces and extract the energy from it. While there is some energy to be found in raw food it would not be near enough to recharge your power supply. No. Crystals by far holds the most energy, and we designed a system that..."

Sweetie threw her hooves up in the air.

“Wait, wait, wait! I'm suppose to eat crystals?” She said in disbelief . ”So... not cake and sugar?”

Metalhoof facehoofed again.

“Did your parents not tell you anything?”

“No. They didn't.”

He snorted.
“They do not sound like very good parents for denying you that.”

He continued to explain that, while he might be proud of her belly, the real ingenuity was the distribution system. Anytime she ate, food or other rawer material, her belly would break it down into microscopic base components. Anny sufficient raw material would then be stored in a magical buffer for use to repair and maintain her body. But the distribution system would also slowly add this raw material to her body structure, and build it up from the inside out. It was the truly ingenious part of her design that would (in theory) allow her to grow by essentially absorbing metal.

Sweetie was not sure she understood.

“Follow me I'll show you.”

Swept away by the promise of growth Sweetie followed him without question through the back door he had appeared from.

The door led to a workshop. Racks of tools littered the walls and the middle of the room was occupied by a big wagon undergoing the final stages of repair.

The inmost wall was full shelves that did not hold tools but small figures. Underneath the shelf was a small desk with a small pot which boiled over a blowtorch.

Molten put his hoof down into the boiling pot. Pulling up a hoof-full of molten tin. Something that sweetie was sure would burn anypony's hooves off. But Molten showed not the slightest sign of pain as he sat down and started shaping the tin in his hooves. Working the metal as a potter would work with clay. Sweetie watched in fascination. She knew she was witnessing earth pony magic at its finest. Not only was he not burning his hooves off (she now understood where the dots on his hooves came from) but his touch went into the curves and shapes of the creation that seemed to form after his will. With no tools he made the clay like tin take shapes that a unicorn with tools would struggle for hours with.

When he was done. And it had only taken him a few minutes. He had a small horse in his hoof.

"It is my ability, you understand.”

He pointed to his mark of a semi-molten steel ingot

"Molten Metalhoof." He said his name with pride "I can form any metal the way I want.”

Then he took a little more melted metal from the bowl, and poured it onto the horse figure. He worked on it a bit further. When he was done, he had the same little horse. Just slightly bigger .

"Do you understand now?"

Sweetie nodded. Overjoyed. This meant she would grow up into a big pony! She would no longer be the shortest in class! No wonder she had not grown an inch since forever. She had not been eating the right stuff.

Her family had never told her she needed to eat metal to grow. It was always eat your vegetables. Eat your alfalfa. You must eat your carots to grown into a big pony. All lies. Why? Why had they done that? Both lying and preventing her to grow. How mean!

Mr Molten handed her the newly finished tin horse.

“Here. Eat it.”

Sweetie reluctantly took the nice little horse.

“Don't worry. I have so many.”

She looked up on the shelves, seeing they where full of tin soldiers.

“...But you need to eat to grow.”

“But... I cant chew through that!” The hardest thing she had ever chewed threw was a candy bar made by twist. When he said that her belly would break it down she half expected that she would have to swallow tiny things like nuts and bolts whole.

“Yes you can. Your jaw is made to crush steel and stones. I know because I made it myself.”

Reluctantly she took the little horse and put its head in her mouth. He looked on like her mother would when she was expected to eat up all the nasty vegetables.

She felt the cold taste of metal on her tongue. She had expected it to taste gross. But actually, it wasn't that bad. It was like the time she had put mothers coins in her mouth. And it did not make her want to puke.

Her teeth came down on the horses throat and slowly pressed harder and harder. Every logic thought in her head told her that her teeth should break long before the metal. But she felt no pain as the pressure on her jaws slowly increased. She surpassed the set "limitation" for her jaws, and continued biting down on the horses neck.

Finally there was a “pling” as the horses head came of in her mouth. It rolled over her tongue and she almost reflexively started working on it with her teeth.

Oh sweet Celestia she had just bitten through metal like that candy cane! The memory resurfaced and she could see Twist's stunned face in front of her. Surprised had she been that Sweetie could do it without hurting her teeth. You where suppose to suck on those candy sticks as they where to hard to bite. At the time it had simply been written off as Sweetie having really good teeth. Even if she did not get any mark in candy cane breaking.

But a whole horse figure made of solid tin was something else.

“Good. Now eat the rest.”

She obediently obliged.
After the last pieces of the tin horse had gone down her throat, Molten opened a drawer on his working desk, and pulled out a crystal.

“Good. Now time for dessert.”

He held out the crystal in front of her. It was a simple, refined piece of Jewelry that made Sweetie think about all the gems in her sisters Boutique that she wasn't allowed do touch. Is sounded crazy to eat something that was harder than rocks. She did not know how Spike was able to do it. It was just said that dragons ate crystals. But she wasn't a dragon. She was a ... Pony. A pony that had already chewed down a small figure made of tin.

Thinking about herself like that made her feel... weird.

“Do I have to? I mean, is there no other way?”

Metalhoof Jerked his shoulders.

“Alternatively you could always stick tour tongue in an electrical outlet”

She did not want to do that. Reluctantly she took the crystal. she believed she grimaced as she looked at it. Something that was dug up from the ground must probably taste like dirt. Then again there where ponies said to be able to chew solid rock for an afternoon snack. Not that she understood those any better than dragons.

He did say that her main source of power came from crystals. But that made no sense. How had her family ever been able to hide that from her?

She brought her crystal to her teeth. And bit down.
Again, it took an amount of pressure beyond her set limits. But with those deactivated, the crystal shattered in her mouth, and she began to slowly work the shards with her unnaturally strong teeth.

As the crystal crunched in her mouth, she got the strangest taste of vanilla.

Wait? How in the world could she associate the crystal with vanilla?! She had heard that some ponies that chewed rocks said they tasted salty. But this?!

-:: Familiar substance detected // Scanning memory // Vanilla::-

Suddenly a memory flashed before her eyes. She was at home. In the Carousel Boutique. At the dinner table. Rarity had just given her the biggest vanilla ice cream with chocolate cross she had ever seen. It was a little unusual that Rarity would go to the length to make her such a treat herself, rather than just buying it from sugar cube corner. But Sweetie did not care. She only had eyes for the enormous vanilla coated in frosting so cold that it sparkled.

In retrospect. A little too sparkly.

”I made this just for you” Her sister said with a smile.

Sweetie greedily chewed down. The vanilla was so cold that it was almost frozen solid and filled with chocolate minty cross. The frozen frosting sparkled in the sunlight, hard and crispy.

A little too crispy...

A little too hard...

She had payed it no mind back then. She could not have known it back then. But looking at the memory now she could see the recorded data of the voices that played in the back of her mind. Data that focused on those crispy shiny bits she put in her mouth.

-:: Special substance detected // Crystal // Releasing jaw restriction ::-

-:: Similar substance detected on recorded memory ::-

A shocking realization dawned on her. Did Ice cream have the same substance as crystals? No. The Ice cream had crystals in it. Thin minced powder, hidden in the frosting and mixed up with crispy chocolate mint.

Chocolate mint...

Another memory triggered. This one of her mother. Magically pulling out a tray of hot baked cookies from the oven.
Sweetie was standing next to her. Salivate over the fresh made treat. Her mother say her drooling, and smiled.

"Go ahead Sweetie. Take one. But carefully, the plate is hot."

Sweetie grabbed the biggest cookie. Mother always made the best cookies. And today she had made her favorite, chocolate mint cookies. She greedily gobbled the cookie down. Feeling the title hard chocolate minty flakes crunch in her mouth.

A little too hard ...

A little too crunchy...

-:: Familiar substance detected in memory ::-

At that moment her father walked into the kitchen. He clearly wanted a cookie as well. But mother slapped him on the hoof.

"No silly. I made these for Sweetie. You get to eat some of these" She said, and pulled out a second plate from the oven.

She always did that. Baked individual sets of sweets for every family member. They even had personal cookie jars with their names on it. And Sweetie could not be happier that she got a whole set of cookies to herself.

Mother smiles as Sweetie stuffed her face.

"Eat up Sweetie. I've made these just for you."

Made this just for you...

Just for you Sweetie...

Only for you...

The rest of the crystal shattered as it hit the floor. She covered her eyes with her hoof and shook her head violently That was how they had recharged her! They had fed her crystals right under her nose. Without her knowledge. Without ever saying anything!

When Mr Molten asked her what the problem was. She told him. She told him about the massive collaborative lie her family had pulled. Of all the years they had pulled the wool over her eyes. And she also told him about how her sister had reacted when the wool finally come off. How she had punched her and everything.

Mr Molten listened with growing concern in his eyes.

“They do not sound like a very good family.” He said, s she had finished speaking.

Not a good family at all.

***

As Sweetie finished her unusual meal she began to feel a pressure in her nether regions. She had no idea how long since she had last used a bathroom. That made another question pop into her mind

She understood now that she had a belly that could break down metal and stones. But what about all the times she needed to poop or pee? If her belly was so efficient, then why did she have to poop?

“They programed your cybernetic belly to only work down the material at 50 percent. Leaving slag-products that came out the natural way to simulate bowel movement. They even had a program to make it look like real feces and urine.”

He snorted “It disgusts me!”

Yes. It was disgusting. And weird. Was she really talking shit with this stallion? And was he talking shit back? And was her shit really altered to look and smell like real shit? Who had been unfortunate enough to design that? She hoped it was that made mare!

Molten continued.

“It disgusts me that they limited you in a foolish decision to emulate life. A real parent should never limit their child!"

He smiled. "But I can remove it!”

Sweetie would have gasped to that statement. Could he really remove the mind controlling programing she had in her head? But how? Something about what Dr Cardiac had said came to mind. Disbelievingly she asked:

“Can you wash my brain?”

His smile widened.

“Yes I can.”

Sweetie became ecstatic. If he was gonna wash her brain. Then she would have a clean mind. No more dirty sequences making her body do things against her will. No more Voices bugging her at every turn.

But how? He was no unicorn?
When she told him this. He chuckled.

“I might not have a horn. But I have tools.”

Sweetie exited looked around the workshop for these tools. Where was this brain washing machine?

But Mr Molten chuckled.

“Not these mere playthings. I'm talking about the tools of the future.”

He walked up to a seemingly empty wall and pressed a hoof on it. A square piece of the wall went away and revealed a big round button with a hoof shaped mark in it. Around the button was a series of symbols. Every letter in the Equestrian alphabet. Next to every symbol was a little light bulb. And above it all was a small panel.

When asked about this strange device, he called it a hoof dial.

Metalhoof put his hoof in the hoof mark and then twisted the button like a dial. The lights around the button lit up as he rotated the dial past them, showing which letter he was pointing the front of his hoof at. When he had moved to the desired letter, he pressed down on the hoof button, producing a click, and made a symbol appear in the little panel above. Though it was only a star, and not the letter he had kicked on.

"Security reasons." He said. "So no one will be able to read the password."

That made the panel seem unnecessary in Sweetie's mind. Why even have a display if it was not gonna display anything?

With practiced ease he dialed in the rest of his code with such speed that Sweetie could not keep track of what letters he pressed down on. More stars appeared in the display until the entire row was filled.

When he was done with his absurdly long password, another square panel opened in the wall. This hoof dial surrounded by numbers. Also here only dots appeared in the panel above.
When he was done the panel closed and the whole wall started moving. It sunk down into the floor and revealed a metal staircase leading down.

“This way.” He said. “And I'll show you the future of Equestria.”

***

Sweetie had not expected to walk into an armory.

Exiting the stairs she entered a long wide room, clad roof to floor in in metal.

Two long rows of what looked like giant suits of armor stood along the walls. Not just a breastplate and a helmet, like the Royal guard patrol uniform. But full covering body suits that didn't even leave the face or tail unarmored. Each standing like at attention in their own small metal cubicles.

Sweetie complimented him on the wonderful armor.
But Mr Molten assured her that these where no mere sets of armor but fully automatic warriors.
He walked Sweetie down the long row while she looked on in awe. Towards the end of the hall stood some of them half finished. And she could see the gears exposed underneath the plates of armor.

Her eyes where drawn to the things at their sides. It looked like a lance. But it was so short it did not even reach the Stallion to the chest.
How where they going to defend anything with spears shorter than themselves? hoof to hoof combat?

Mr Molten chuckled.

“No, my little soldier. Allow me to demonstrate.”

He took a deep breath.

“STEEL STALLION NUMBER 45!” He roared, with all the authority of a military figure

Sweeties jumped back at the sudden loud and bask tone in his voice. And she jumped back again as the stallion in front of her started moving and its eyes lit up underneath that thick helmet.

Mr Molten chuckled and roared another order.

“WEAPONS OUT!”

Sweetie was nearly impaled as the lance extended like a telescope rod just above her head.

Mr molten pressed a button on the cubicle wall, and a thick metal plate rose from the middle of the floor.

“FIRE!”

The top of the lance started to crackle. And a stream of lightning shot from the tip and hit the metal plate. The noise of thunder striking metal made Sweetie's ears flatten.

“Its amazing what a crystal can be charged with is it not?” he said most amused “You can charge it up with magic, you can charge it up with lightning. And when that energy is released, it becomes a force of destruction. You can even make a grenade out of an overcharged crystal."

He smiled.

"With these energy lances we can protect Equestria from all foreign hordes.”

Before he pressed the button again to make it descend into the floor Sweetie saw that the shot had left a big black scorch mark and a small hole. Had the plate been thinner it might have punched straight through and hit the Steel Stallion on the opposite side. Destructive force indeed. Sweetie thought about how lightning could strike down entire trees. The second thing she thought was that she wanted one. With these she would be able to protect herself.

“Can I... Try them out?” She asked, as innocently as possible

He chuckled again. “No my little soldier. These are not for you.”

He shoved her aside and continued walking down the row of "Steel Stallions" There where some other rooms down here. But Mr Molten gestured past them. Down the long row of metal clad ponies. Until they reached a work station at the far end.

“These are for you.”

Sweetie's eyes widened.
In front of her was what looked like two big cylinders. Suspended from the ceiling by some sort of gripping claws. The closest she could describe them where like two jet turbines. Underneath them hanged a pair of limp mechanical arms with fingers of wires. From the sides of the pen hanged a series of tools and welding equipment. But the cubicle itself, where a steel stallion should be standing, was empty.

“These are my pride.” He Said “The Master Blasters. Capable of firing a concentrated, continuous beam of energy. Unlike the lances who uses crystals they do not need to be reloaded. The inner absorption system allows them to drain the magical energy out of the surrounding air and compress it to a force of destruction. A true masterpiece to use against the foreign hordes.”

He sure liked to brag about his toys, Sweetie thought.

Mr Molten asked her to stand in the cubicle, underneath the blasters.

He took a tool and and brought it to her spine. Twisting it like a key he opened a pair of ports she never knew she had on her back.

He pushed a button on the cubicle wall and the claws lowered the blasters down onto her back. It only took some quick jury rigging and welding for him to fastened the arms of the blasters into her ports.

Sweetie barely had time to think before he was finished. She could not feel the heat of the welding or the screws he tightened. But what she did feel was a sudden twitch in her mind as he connected the wires from the blasters to ports in her spine.

She suddenly became aware of the two big things on her back. Mr Molten gave them a tap and they started humming. Sweetie felt herself stretch into them. She was being sucked into the blasters as her energy became their energy.

-:: Recognizing new components ::-
-:: Recognizing :: “Blaster masters” // Product line :: “Unique” ::-

She should have been completely freaked out if not for that some part of her wanted this. Now she was gonna have weapons which to defend herself with. She felt bigger. Tougher. Better!

-:: Self confidence increasing ::-

She instantly wanted to try them out. She only wished the things had come with some sort of instruction manual. When she relayed this concern to Mr Molten he chuckled again.

“Don't worry. I will sync those blasters up to the targeting systems.”

Systems? It seemed logical that weapons would need something to aim with. But...

”Mr Molten. You’re not gonna put more things in my head are you?”

He smiled. ”I don't need to put in anything. You already have everything in you.”

"Oh..."

Sweetie felt a bit disconcerted. Did she have more things in her mind that she was not yet aware of? "And just how did he know that?" - she asked.

His green eyes looked deep into hers as he said.

”I know. Because you have your fathers eyes.”

Sweetie did not understand. Her fathers eyes were blue.

Before she could ask what he meant by that he was already on his way to the other side of the workstation.

“Now. Lets get you dressed.”

He walked over to a set of big stuffed dolls Sweetie had failed to notice. They looked like the manikins Rarity would use to display her dresses. Except these manikins wheres dressed for combat. There was an sleek officers uniform with polished buttons and medals, an old green soldier's suit with a tin helmet. And a series of armor models in increasingly smaller sizes. There was one set that looked like it would fit Mr Molten himself. One set that looked fit for a teenager, and so forth.

Mr Molten wheeled out the last set. A manikin that looked just about her size.
“As you can see I have prepared for your future.” he said as he gestured over the entire line of sizes.

Sweetie was ecstatic. Was he serious? A whole set of armor just for her to grow in!

Hearts Warming Eve must have come early.

***

Having a stupid seamstress for a sister, Sweetie was no stranger to being forced to play manikin. She knew how to stand still while Mr Molten plate by plate dressed her up in armor. She noticed that he was not using screws of any kind but fastened the plates to sockets she did not know she had on her body. And then screwed them in place with bolts. It was just her size. Even if it made her look a little square and bulky.

She did not mind. It was like playing dress up for nightmare night. This way no pony would be able to tell that there was anything but a normal filly underneath the full body armor. Mr Molten was equally exited. As he dressed her up he blabbed on about how the armor was made of a magic resistant titanium that was stronger than steel and difficult for any unicorn to blast through or get a grip on and bla, bla, bla...

Sweetie wasn't really listening. She was busy living her fantasies of being a knight getting dressed up for jousting by her squire.

Finally Mr Molten pressed another button and the claws holding the blasters released. She walked out of the cubicle both armed and armored. She looked back over herself. Broad plates now covered her shoulders and flanks. Her torso and joints were encapsulated in interlocking armor pieces, and her legs were covered in sleek cylindrical plates. Even her hoof had gotten armored. So you could no longer see any part of her horrible, skeletal metal frame. Behind her, her pink tail was sticking out of the tail socket. Wagging with joy, if a bit unkempt.

The only thing she needed was a helmet. She walked up to the took the big helmet of the manikin. It was a few sizes to big but covered most of her bald head.

“Can I have this to?”

Mr Molten only chuckled.

“Now you look like the little soldier you where always supposed to be.”

Sweetie was overwhelmed. Was she not meant to be a doll, but a soldier? A knight in shining armor!

She looked over her shoulder, at the two new big contraptions sticking out of her back. Those should make her feel even more unnatural. But at the same time, pegasi had a pair of extra limbs sticking out of their backs too.

She tried moving them around. The arms rose and fell and made the blasters move up and down along her sides. But she could not move them right or left. They only shifted a little in their sockets as she tried.

“Careful with where you aim. You'll have to face the enemy in order to hit them. But also be wary of whats behind you. I wouldn't want to get hit by the back-blast”

“Back-blast? who makes a weapon that shoots backwards?"

He chuckled.

“The energy blast goes forward. But to compensate for the force of the blast, there is a back-blast. It consists only of compressed hot air. But it could knock anypony off their hooves”

Sweetie felt like she could be knocked of her hooves just by how awesome this was. Like any self respecting filly she responded to this in the only way she could think of:

“THIS IS SO COOL!”

Then she became aware of the weight. The blasters felt like a pair of saddlebags filled with rocks and her armor was literary made of metal. Having never worn armor before she felt clumsy and heavy. She turned around on tired legs and addressed the problem to Molten.

“Feeling tired? Feeling weak? Don't worry, That's just another weakness they programed you with to simulate pony physics. Its another weakness we will remove.”

He walked her over to a big tall box of a machine with several blinking lights and screens. Under the biggest screen was another pair of hoof dials.

He asked her to sit next to it and remove her helmet. She obliged. A bit clumsily due to the two big blasters on her back. He pulled out a wire with a odd looking plug and told her to bend her head forward. He inserted the plug in yet another socket she did not know she had in the back of her neck.

As he started typing on the hoof dials Sweetie wondered if Hearts Warming miracles do happen after all. Perhaps she had finally found somewhere she could live without fear or feeling weird. For while he did acknowledge that she was a machine, he still spoke to her like she was a pony. Furthermore, he had built her. And he showed such love and care for all his creations. Perhaps she could call this stallion dad?

She was broken out of her thoughts when she sensed a presence in her mind. A flow of energy was entering through the back of her neck and she sensed a sort of knocking. She knew it must be Molten. Exited she thought that this must be how telepathy was like. The world went away as she went to open the door in the back of her mind.

He immediately started digging deep into her files. Uncovering “sequences” and “programs” both old and new to Sweetie.
He was right. She did have even more things than she was aware of.
Her eyes had targeting systems and infrared vision and diagram displays that had laid dormant.
Now he brought them up from their slumber.

-:: Synchronizing systems ::-

He went into her blasters and activates something labeled “Retraction system”. A component activated to emit a foreign energy. And like a spell the heavy weight vanished from her back as the blasters shrunk down and folded into her back and closed the ports.

Sweetie had explored the inner parts of herself to some degree. But she had never been this deep.

After some digging they hit a wall. An all to familiar frozen wall in the depth of her mind. A component of hers, labeled Heart-drive, was rendered inaccessible. It was clear to Sweetie that it was emitting some kind of energy. But neither she of Mr Molten could get at it.

Vaguely her ears registered Mr Molten mumbling something about “firewall.”

A part of her immediately wanted to protest. It was not made of fire. It was ice. A cold and frozen wall of ice.

Some more digging uncovered something she was not familiar with. A file labeled “control program”. Unlike the other things this was not tied to any component directly but sort of just floated dormant in her mind.

Mr Molten did a few attempts at it to no avail. Vaguely her eyes registered him jerking his shoulders and mumbling “Later.”

He turned his attention back to to the sequences he had dug up.
Sequences like “trembling” and other things started to disappear from her "body functions" as he typed a delete command.

A small part of her protested against this. But she hushed it. She was glad to see them go away. Never would they cause her body sieze up again.

Her ears registered Mr Molten's mumbles for everything he deleted. “A soldier must be strong” he said as he deleted a few blocks that held her body back from its true potential. Along with that he deleted sequences like “Exhaustion” “Tired” or “sleepy.”

“A soldier must never tire” He mumbled.

That meant she would never feel tired or week again. Sweetie thought.

Her cybernetic belly. That was current only running on 50 percent. efficiency: He raised to 100 percent.

“As of that, we don't need bowel evacuation any more.”

-:: Delete ::-

Sweetie felt the pressure vanish. Yes. No more would she have to go to the bathroom.

“Sleep? A soldier must stand on guard every our of the day.”

-:: Delete ::-

Yes. No more nightmares. Imagine being able to be up and play all day and night.

“Hunger... We don't need that.”

-:: Delete ::-

Yes. Agreed Sweetie, remembering how horrible it had felt to be hungry in the woods.

“Heartbeat.” We don't need that.

-:: Delete ::-

Sweetie heard her body go silent. The heartbeat that had just been thrumming with excitement stopped dead. A part of her agreed that the heartbeat was useless. But the voices of protest grew louder.

“Breathing. We don't need that”

-:: Delete ::-

Sweeties Air pump might already have been turned off. But what if she needed it again? What if she needed to save another drowning foal again? What if she just wanted to turn parts of her body on again?

“Um. Mr Molten. That's not a mind controlling spell sequence. That's not even a weakness . I still need that.”

Molten carried on relentless, regardless of her worried pleading.

With increasing worry Sweetie saw file after file fade from her body functions. And more and more of her systems and sequences shut down. A Part of her still argued about their uselessness. But another part of her knew otherwise.

-:: Fear levels rising // Initiating -//!ERROR!//- File not found ::-

“Taste. We don't need that”

A small part of her still agreed with him. Because that grass had tasted so foul. And crystals and metal was no candy either. Without the scene of taste she would not have to bother with what she ate.

“No. Wait. This isn't right!”

While she did hate to go hungry she still longed for the sweet, sweet taste of fresh baked cake and candy.
She didn't want to loose that!

“What are you doing. Molten... STOP!”

The only response she registered was a distant “Quiet soldier.”

-:: Delete ::-

And just like that, With a single phrase, her taste sensors went silent.

“And since we don't need to eat. We don't need to remember eating.”

He turned his attention to her memory. A fine sunny day with Rarity as the two of them had a little picnic out on a hill outside Ponyville became as clear to Sweetie as if she was there. Each of them with a glass in their hooves filled with the most fine tasting vanilla.

-:: DELETE ::-

She saw a memory starting to evaporate in front of her. Instinctively she grabbed onto it and held on for dear life. She might be mad at Rarity. But she did not want to loose that!”

“NO! Its not yours. Give it back! GIVE IT BACK!”

Suddenly there were a thousand copies of the memory. Sweetie was overwhelmed as she was reliving the same memory a thousand times at the same time.

From somewhere far away she registered Molten cursing.

-:: Delete // DELETE // DELETE! ::-

One by one the new copies of the memory started to go away.

Sweetie latched herself after the alien presence and started pulling on it. To pull back what he had taken from her.
Suddenly she became aware of a thousand other things. A thousand files and streams of data flooded her consciousness. It was like stepping into a library and having every book thrown in your face at the same time. Whatever he had stolen from her must be in here.

With no time to sort it out she simply grabbed onto it all and held tight as Molten's presence came back and started to pull on her mind again. Time and time again she kicked him out but he only came back She did not know how long she would be able to fight him of.
Another part of her realized that his only way into her mind was the wire in her neck. She needed to take control of her body and get that out now!

She managed to tell her forehooves to rise and wave behind her head. She fumbled blindly with no idea if she hit the wire or not. She could not feel. But she had an idea of where the sockets must be. She told her hooves to press against her skull and move alongside her neck until they slammed into something. That must be the plug! She told both hooves to pressed on it and pull backwards.
The world became a static blitz as the plug loosened from her neck. And finally came out. Sweetie felt like her mind had been put through a cider press. Everything became smaller as she was jerked away and pressed back into her own mind.

Everything was just a dancing mess of questions and errors and streams of data. What had just happened. And WHY?

It too a second for her to register that she was looking up at the ceiling. A part of her screamed at her to get up now! She managed to get her hooves under her, and rose stood up to see Molten Metalhoof jumping up and down pulling his hair with one hoof and slamming the hoof dials with the other. Then he turned to her. All the warmth in his eyes where gone.

“What did you do!? WHAT DID YOU JUST DO” he shouted in dismay.

“WHAT I DID?" Sweetie Screamed. "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!? YOU TRIED TO TAKE MY MEMORIES FROM ME!”

“Of course, my little soldier!" He roared. "You don't need them! Now get back here and give back what is mine!”

The nice Mr Molten was gone, and in his place stood a stern looking stallion. And those eyes. Who had moments ago been filled with love where suddenly filled with a hateful fire.

“I am not your little soldier!” Sweetie roared back.

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

“Yes you are. You came to me because you were programmed to do!”

No. That was not true. It had been pure coincidence that he ran into this place. It was not some underlying control program that drove her. Or was it? what about that control program she has see him bring up in her head. Had he put in in her!? HAD HE MADE HER COME HERE TO ALMOST FORGET EVERYTHING!?

-:: Hate levels reaching maximum levels ::-

Sweetie was seeing red. Literally. Her vision had been filled with an infrared light. Numbers and figures scrolled in the side of her vision. And in the center where two big crosshairs. One for each of the blaster master.

-:: Combat mode activated ::-

The blasters shot out from her sides. But she no longer felt the weight of them. She no longer felt anything. Because of him. Her hare levels where rising just by looking at him. For what he did to her. What he had almost taken away from her. What he had taken away!
The crosshairs started to move closer together. Zeroing in on Molten Metalhoof.

“You are not going to shoot me.” He said ”You would not shoot your father!”

“YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!”

He opened his mouth to argue but the blasters started to charge up with a soft humming. That got him to shut up. Sweetie allowed herself to smile. If she had only had these when the crazy mare attacked her. Then she could have stopped her.

She should shoot him. Punish him for what he had done. She should terminate him. Just like the Bloodbots in that movie.

She froze. If she shot. The would she not be just like the Bloodbots in the movie? Would she not become the very thing that everypony at home had feared that she was?

The same thoughts she had been feeling with Rarity came over her. The fact was this evil stallion in front of her had attacked her. For that she hated him. She wanted to hurt But if she did so. Would she not become a Bloodbot herself?

With horror she looked over herself. The armor. The weapons. He had tried to turn her into a Bloodbot. A monstrous murder machine.

Suddenly she became more afraid of herself than of him.

“I am not a Bloodbot” She said. Barely more than a whisper.

Her mind was working a thousand miles an hour. She could barely keep track of all the thoughts and files that ran through her head. But one thing she did know: She had to get out of here.

She grabbed the helmet of the floor and put it over her head. Then she ran. Back the way she had come. Back past all the Steel stallions. Now she was them in a new light horrifying light. They did not look like Bloodbots. But they were. And she had almost become one of them.

A second or two later Metalhoof's voice echoed down the armory.

“STEEL STALLIONS!” He roared. And the eyes of every mechanical stallion down the row lit up.

“GET HER!” He ordered. And the Steel Stallions started moving.

From her left and right, they started coming out of their cubicles to get her.

Some of them leaped out to get her as she rushed past them, and ended up falling flat on their belly's. She jumped over a stallion as it landed, forelegs stretched out, in front of her.

She looked back at it and saw it wobble its legs without getting its hooves under it again.
In fact getting their hoof under them seemed to be a problem for most of them. Just putting one hoof in front of the other seemed beyond some of these machines. Some of them stumbled over their own legs or simply fell because because their leg movement was out of sync.

Some of the unfinished once also tried to move but fell apart as they tried. One took a step forward right out of the lower parts of the leg and fell flat on its head – which came of and tumbled around on the floor to trip another stallion.

Steel Stallions who were able to give chase tripped over the ones still lying on their belly's. Two steel stallions from cubicles opposite to each other even ran straight into each other, unable to turn.

She could hear Metalhoof cry out over the stupidity of the robots.

Turning her eyes back front she saw that the stallions at the end of the line had gotten out and formed a barricade between her and the stairway.

“19! Arm your electrical canon and fire!” Shouted Metalhoof

One of the stallions in the line in front of her extracted its weapon put its side. It was a long railway looking tube that that shot a big bolt of blue electricity.

The shot went right past her. And hit the stallion behind her. It crackled and the lights in its eyes died almost instantly. It fell into a heap and tripped even more of the stallions pursuing her.

That would have been her fate, had she been hit.

“AIM and Fire!” Metalhoof corrected.

Every energy lance started humming as every stallion simultaneously readied their weapons. And fired.

The air around Sweetie became ablaze with energy beams. Several blasts ricocheted off her armor and helmet but even more struck right into her with enough force to knock her off her hooves and send her tumbling over the floor.

The stallions behind her would have been over her if they had not been caught in the line of fire. She could thank her small size that she had not been hit worse. Most of the shots had passed right over her head. In fact most of the shots had not been aimed at her. The stupid stallions where firing on all the ones charging at them. Who in turn were blasting back with their weapons as they charged the line.

Even the ones that had tumbled over had got out their weapons and started firing wildly. The air became filled with energy beams that ricocheted of armor and sometimes punched straight through it as the two sides blasted each other.

“No! I meant only 19!” Cried Metalhoof “Cease fire! You stupid bucks!”

The shooting instantly stopped. As did the Stallions who skittered to a halt. Sweetie took the chance, quickly got on her hooves and continued running.

“19! Aim only at the little one!”

The Stallion with the electrical canon turned to correct its aim, the weapon already powering up.
Sweetie had no intention of getting blasted again.

The Blasters on her back hummed as she looked at the one in the with the electric canon. Two targeting circled appeared in her vision. One for each canon.

They merged together to form a single crosshair over the steel stallion just as it had turned to face her.

“FIRE!”

Metalhoof's verbal command where slower than Sweetie's thoughts.
Two big white stream of energy exited the barrels and slammed into the stallion in front of her. It was knocked back and a big portion of its armor cracked off, leaving its innards exposed. Sweetie fired again and this time the stallion fell to the side and knocked over the one next to him. Who in turn bumped into the next, and the next until half of the line was falling like Domino's.

Sweetie took the chance. Jumped over the row of fallen stallions and ran for the stairs.

She ascended three steps at a time. But when she reached the top she found the door closed.
She had no time to fiddle with the door control. She did not know the code any way. She banged on the door but it would not bulge. She could hear Steel stallions coming up the stairs and Metalhoof shouting.

“To the elevator! Cut her off!”

She was running out of time. She turned the blasters at the door.
They hummed as she charged them up. A flashing warning in her vision told her that her energy levels where dropping. How? The Blaster masters where suppose to suck the magic energy out of the surrounding air and... She realized. They were sucking the energy out of her as well.

She had no time to worry about it.

Her vision was covered in white light of the dual blast. The door flew of its hinges and crashed into the wall on the other side. Destroying every shelf in the way.

She barely had time to wonder if she had overcharged the blasters when a ruckus appeared from inside the grocery store. The floor and the shelves where punched aside as two steel stallions emerged from the ground. Riding on a big metal platform.

Sweetie did not She immediately turned and fired toward the pursuers. The blast hit one of the stallions and knocked it of the platform.
The other returned fire. But instead of energy beams she had small crystal projectiles shot at her. The overcharged crystal grenades just missed her but the force of the blast knocked her over. She didn't even have time to get her hooves under her before a second barrage threw her behind a shelf.

Her heart drive was screaming at her that she should be going into shock. That she should be shaking with terror, panting, sweating and feeling lightheaded, dizzy and disorientated. That she should feel a headache and pain all over her body. None of these things came to her. She could not even close her eyes.

The logic part of her told her this was no time to break down. The steel stallion had stopped shooting the instant she fell out of its sight but she could hear its heavy hooves stepping of the platform, and the platform lowering itself down to get more reinforcements. And the reinforcements coming up the stairs.

She got up and readied herself to fire it the Steel Stallion came around the corner. But instead of coming closer she could hear it moving away. Carefully she looked out from behind the shelf.

The stallion was moving away from her. In the direction of the door. As she looked several more Steel stallions came running up the stairs. They ran right past her and joined up with the elevator rider to form a new line between her and the door.
The elevator ascended again and Metalhoof arrived up with another pair of Steel Stallions.

“25! 13! 11! Search the place” He ordered.

Three Steel Stallions started moving around the shelves. By luck or bad programming, none of them went to look behind the shelf she was hiding behind. But it would only be a matter of time. She had to find another way out. She turned around only to find a wall staring at her.

-:: Panic levels rising //Initiate - !ERROR! - sequence // !ERROR! // File not found ::-

She had no way to go. She was trapped in a corner.

Wait! If she could blast her way through a door then she must be able to blast her way through a wall.

With the grocery shelf as only cover she charged her blasters.
To late she remembered something about a back-blast that kept the blasters stabilized. The backblast might only have consisted of hot air. But it sent the shelf flying inward. Knocking out a Steel stallion coming her way and leaving her exposed.

Sweeties and Metalhoofs met eyes. But instead of telling all the Steel Stallions to obliterate her he yelled at her.

“GET BACK HERE SOLDIER! AND GIVE BACK WHAT YOU HAVE STOLEN!”

What she had stolen? What about the thing he had tried to steel? Did he mean the blasters and the armor. Well she was taking them. It was clearer than ever that she needed them to defend herself from meany beans like him.

“I am not your little soldier!” She told him as she retracted her blasters and jumped out the hole.

“THINK ABOUT EQUESTRIA!” He yelled. “YOU ARE THE FUTURE THAT WILL DEFEND US AGAINST ALL FOREIGN HORDES!”

Sweetie would have loved to defend Equestria. But not like that.

“DO AS YOUR DAD SAYS!”

“YOU ARE NOT MY DAD!” She screamed. “And by the way. My dad has blue eyes, you meany bean!”

Metalhoof cried out in rage. The Steel Stallions started blasting after her. But she was already way into the dark and rainy forest.

***

The mechanic stood alone outside his ruined workshop.

”Ruined. All ruined” He mumbled to himself.

This must be what shell shock felt like. To be so utterly defeated, to have everyting you worked for blow up in your face.

It was shocking how advanced that little soldiers programing was. If he was able to copy that code into all his soldiers. his army would be unstoppable. He did not want to admit it. But he had run into troubles as soon as he began to dive into her mind. He would not even have been able to open it up. If she had not unlocked the door for him. Of course she did. She was his creation, and she was supposed to obey him. And she had. Right up until she betrayed him.

That stung the hardest. To be betrayed by one of his own creations.
Truly treason was the worst crime in the world. Treason was the one thing that could topple the best of battle plans. Destroy the mightiest of armies and fell the greatest leaders.

War required sacrifices. And though it stung that he had lost so many Steel Stallions, he knew they could be relapced.

What could not be replaced was the programming. His intelligence. his schematics, his planes and his vision. That little traitor had taken it all. Emptied all his files and run off with them.

With great shame. He had to admit this battle as lost.

"I underestimated her."

A light in the distance pulled his attention. A wagon was approaching from the darkness.

His posture remained as stern as ever. He had nothing to worry about. He had already made sure his Steel Stallions retreated underground. and had spent the last hour covering up their tracks. It was probably just pedestrians on their way to something. They would probably just drive past him. And if they stayed, and asked what had happened here, He would simply say he had been robbed.

Not that far from the truth, actually.

To his irritation. The wagon, pulled by a stallion in black raincoat, did slow down. and pulled into his driveway.

The side door flung open. And out jumped the mare of his dreams. Her white hair tied around him as sure as her yellow arms.

”Marrow? My little Marrowline? is that you?" He asked.

She threw her hooves around his neck.

”Of course it is. My little Molten” She cried, Brushing her rain soaked white mane out of her face. Strangely enough her leg was bandaged, and it seemed ho have been bleeding quite bad.

“That little demon once tore us apart." She continued to woe. "But now, faith have brought us together to destroy that evil.”

Destroy? Stupid mare, thought Metalhoof. Capture her, that is what I will do. She is the future of Equestria.

“Faith indeed. Praised be Celestia.” Said a pegasus from inside the wagon. “It indeed must be her will to bring us together again. (to end the evil we once created. She threw us into years of darkness as punishment for our sins. But now, she has a given us a chance to redeem ourselves.”

That annoying voice could only belong to one pony. Shockwave.

Metalhoof recognized the faces of his former companions.

In the front – pulling the wagon stood the silent figure of his former boss and employer, Prism Prestige. The dark blue stallion just smiled a wicked grin.

It did not take much conviction to make Metalhoof join their crusade. Though he knew the other's intentions were impure towards the future of Equestria, he still joined forces with them. They would serve him well in his quest to secure the future. After that, they were disposable.

”Just give me a moment. I need to get something.” Said Metalhoof.

He went back into the workshop and came back with something he called a ”rig”. It was a big controller, tied to this torso like a vest. He had a big control panel in front of him. Connected by wires that ran over his shoulders to a big battery box on his back. There was also a helmet, with a voice control microphone and many antennas sticking out from the top.

The rig gave him remote access to his army. With it he would be able to order them around regardless of distance.
Shockwave thought that he looked ridiculous. Metalhoof let him laugh. He was about to wipe that ugly smile from his gross face.

He ordered his stallions to fall in. The ground shook as the elevator once again rose through the floor, and the wall down to his base was kicked down as every Steel Stallion still standing marched up the stairs and positioned themselves in perfect lines on either side of the wagon.

Metalhoof was enjoying himself. When the history books where being written, this would be the first march of the steel Stallions. From here on out and to the end of the world.

He argued himself into the wagon with the excuse that his controller equipment should not get wet. Shockwave had to exit into the rain to pull the wagon alongside Prism. The only other Pony who Metalhoof had to share the wagon with was Marrowline, as she would be unable to walk with her wounded leg.
As he seated himself like a general inside the wagon, the stupid mare would not stop clinging to him. But he did not complain. When he was the supreme commander of planet-nation Equestria, he would have her, and mares like her, on every side.

As the wagon rolled away. Flanked on either side by marching Steel Stallions. He pushed one last button on the control panel.

Behind him came a huge explosion as the workshop went up in flames.

Chapter 13. Ashes to Ashes

Twilight had always appreciated when the pegasus kept their weather schedule. This was not one of those times.

Their journey continued taking them further and further out west, Deeper and deeper into White Tail woods. In the same direction as the last autumn rain was scheduled. As such, they were literally traveling with the constant downpour that would by now have passed over Ponyville.

At least now they were protected from the rain by the carriage, at least gotten the chance to dry out their raincoats, and a chance to rest.
Not that they were making much use of that chance.

Twilight nodded in and out of consciousness to the wobbling of the wagon. Unable to stay asleep despite not having gotten a good nights sleep in days.

She looked over at Rarity. The poor mare looked like she had not slept at all.
Her normally so curly mane and tail was becoming a straightening uncombed mess. Only by some miracle did they maintain some semblance of their big curls (A testament to how well she kept her hair.) Eyeshadow that she had not bothered to wipe of her face has dried on her cheeks making it look like she was constantly crying black sticky tears. (which she no doubt would if she could.)

Big black spots had taken the eyeshadows place around her eyes. Her unwashed fur was loosing its luster and she smelled in a way that only Applejack would be comfortable with.

Twilight had never in her life seen the mare who cared so much about her beautiful appearance allow herself to decay like this. Had not been for Rarity's natural beauty, she would have looked like an utter wreck by now.

Twilight probably did not look or smell to good herself. She wrinkled her nose to the foul odor that had started to fill the crammed carriage.

Rarity had kept herself busy by reconstructing the mattress clad walls of the asylum wagon into something more resembling a traveling carriage. Complete with some really soft cushions.

Twilight had also taken the liberty of magically giving the wagon some big proper windows. Windows that were currently being outfitted with curtains made of mattress fabric. The whole aesthetic thing made the wagon feel a little less like a transportation for mad ponies. Which, sadly - in a way - it still was.

A wagon probably conscripted by the good Dr Cardiac under the intention of transporting two runaway inmates back into his care.
Twilight did not know if that was actually his plan. But it made Twilight worry that Sweetie Belle had ended up in such a place to begin with. And, given everything Dr Cardiac said and knew about Sweetie, It made Twilight worry for the little mare's psyche. And it was not the only psyche she was worried about.

She looked back at Rarity, who had just finished dressing up the window on one side of the wagon, and moved on to make curtains for the other.

Twilight did not say anything. As long as it kept Rarity's mind on something other than the tragedy.

Twilight herself was about to fall to sleep again, but was woken up as the carriage bumped from hitting another large root.

They had been going off road into the forest for hours. The ground might be flat and without any undergrowth. But it was a far fetch from the well kept country routes. The forest were just sparse enough to drive a wagon through. But the wagon constantly bumped as it ran over rocks and roots. Branches scraped against the sides and the constant rain was hammering on the roof.

Beside Twilight, the nurse named Sully was sleeping like a rock. Snoring and drooling over her seat. Twilight envied her ability to sleep in these circumstances.

Outside, the two stallions, a caretaker and the doctor himself, pulled the wagon through this rough terrain, bad weather, and darkness. The dual lanterns on the front of the wagon just barely pierced the darkness far ahead for them to not run into anything. And at the very edge of that light ran a crazy mare, who, apart from her appearance, had more in common with a canine than a pony. The other "missing patient" who the doctor had said they were suppose to "catch", But who actually guided them through the forest.

Twilight wondered what the mare was following. Was she really able to track by scent? Or was it perhaps some form of earth pony magic behind that mares ability to sense where Sweetie had gone? Either way she was their only lead towards Sweetie. And tilight was glad that they had her.

Twilight was about to nod off again when the wagon suddenly stopped, almost sending all passengers flying into the front mattress clad wall.

Twilight poked her head out the window to see what was wrong.

Screwloose had stopped, and she was frantically looking around, her eyes wide and her ears peaked, listening for something.

All twilight could hear was the rain.

“What is it girl” Dr cardiac asked.

"Please don't tell us you saw a rabbit." The caretaker named Brick muttered.

"Actually, Rabbits starts to hibernate at this time of year." Twilight said, feeling her instinctive need to correct something.

Cardiac undid himself from the towing harness, And walked up to comfort the seemingly nervous mare. Suddenly Screwloose lowered her head and started growling. Like a dog ready to pounce something. Not at Cardiac. But at something out there in the darkness.

Twilight's head instantly cleared from drowsiness to the possibility of danger. But before she could consider what might lurk in the deep shadows, Screwloose took of again, and disappeared ahead of them

That's when the sound of an explosion hit their ears. It came rolling out from between the trees like thunder striking the ground. It was distant. But for them all to be able to hear it so clearly, it must have been massive. Perhaps large enough to level a building.
And Screwloose was heading right towards the sound. Twilight realized Screwloose must have heard it long before they did. Perhaps the mares ears were more sensitive than theirs as well.

Cardiac quickly strapped himself back into the harness, and they all hurried of in the direction of the sound.

***

As they left the trees. Twilight almost thought they had gone in one big circle and ended up back where they had started.

They found a big glade of scorched earth and debris smoldering in the rain. The only difference was that there were no firefighters. No emergency camp and no sirens. It was just them and them, and a big square of aches next to a country side road.

Screwloose was sniffing around in the gray mass of destruction by the time the others arrived. They parked their wagon on a driveway that led up from the road next to the site, and went on to survey the area.

Rarity immediately ran into the trees. Calling out Sweeties name and letting the light of her horn sweep through the woods as she looked for her sister. She purposely avoided the disaster zone. No wanting to believe that the trail ended here. Twilight didn't want to believe it either. But this was where Screwloose had led them. Were she even following Sweeties tracks anymore? Or had they all simply moved of the track to investigate the sound of the explosion? she did not want to believe that the two things could be connected. It was disbelieving enough that she got to visit two disaster sights in such short time.

“What happened here?” Said Twilight, as she, Cardiac, Brick and a dazed nurse Sully, spread out amongst the derbies. “Furthermore, what was here? Why would there be something the size of a barn in the middle of nowhere?"

“Its probably one of the Roadhouses .” Said Cardiac "There used to be one round these parts. Something tells me this is it.”

“A Roadhouse?” Twilight asked.

Cardiac explained:

“These woods are sparsely populated. You have to travel far to get anywhere. That's why somepony thought it a great idea to set up shop in the middle of the road. As a sort of resting places where travelers could get a break from their journey. Sleep, eat, restock and repair their wagons if they have one. In short they are a little bit of everything. A diner, a motel, a shop and workshop in one.”

That sounded like a pretty big building. Twilight thought. The diameter of the ashes confirmed it.

"What could have reduced one to ash in a heartbeat?" she asked.

“I don't know. Maybe a propane leakage. Many of these old places use propane stoves. If there kitchen goes unused for a time, when there is no customers around, a leakage could go undetected and unchecked. Then the gas can fill the entire kitchen. Then all it takes if for somepony to ignite the stove and ..."

“In other words, somepony just lit up their last barbecue.” Brick said sarcastically.

“Brick. You really are a prick!” Sully shouted.

Brick grunted in reply and the two of them walked to separate ends of the ashes.

“Is there any other way this could have happened?” Twilight asked. No doubt sounding a bit naive.

Apparently, so did Cardiac, as he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I don't know. Why?”

“I just hope nopony was in here. I don't think anypony could have survived that explo..."

“... WE GOT ONE OVER HERE!” Yelled Sully.

“Oh no...”

Cardiac and Twilight ran over to where Sully was standing. Twilight half expected to see some badly burned remains of an unlucky somepony. Or even worse - the remains of some unlucky filly.

What she saw was thankfully no filly. It was a piece of badly burned armor. A full body suit, made entirely of metal, laid half buried in the ashes.

“What is this?” Cardiac asked.

Twilight looked closer. She used her magic to remove fully uncover the figure from the derbies. The metal had been badly scored. But the suit looked intact.

“It looks like some sort of armor." She said "But its not standardized Equestrian military, That's for sure”

“How do you know?” Asked Sully.

“Lets just say that my brother is in the army.” Twilight answered.

She bent down and tried to talk to the pony. She even tapped the helmet a few times, but got no response.

Still, the heavy armor might have protected the wearer it from the explosion. Whoever was inside might still be alive, unconscious, and in need of medical attention. It was lucky they had brought a nurse with them, she thought.

Twilight tried to removed the helmet, but found no seal by which to release it from the neck of the harness. But as she let her mind slide over the surface of the armor she eventually found some nuts and bolts. Strange. Had this armor rely been attached using screws? Even the helmet had been attached to the plates of the neck using screws. That was sure not common practice.

The helmet was usually its own piece of armor, worn on the head like a hat. And the rest of the armor was also usually worn in individual pieces - secured to the body with buckles.

While screwing together the pieces of armor might increase its effective coverage, it would also be impossible for the wearer to get in and out of the armor without outside help. Twilight wondered how anypony would feel being trapped in such a tin can.

Knowing that armor tended to be spell protected she could not just magic the armor away. Instead she magically summoned a screwdriver and started working on the attachments. When all screws were loose she grabbed the brim of the the helmet to pry it off. Jet this proved surprisingly difficult as the helmet still refused to budge. Something was still holding it in place.

When her hooves failed, she reached out with her telekinesis to grab hold of the stubborn metal. Even this proved difficult as her magic kept sliding off the armor like a greasy hoofball would slide out of her hoofs. But her will proved stronger than the metal. Something groaned in protest as she bent the metal outward to free the neck of the pony inside, and finally the seal broke and the helmet came off.

There was no head underneath.

“OH MY CELESTIA! YOU PULLED HIS HEAD OFF!” Screamed Sully.

At first Twilight was shocked. For a second she was afraid that she had overdone it and magically relieved somepony of their skull. But then she say that there was no flesh or bone inside the neck, but a nightmarish set of cogs, springs and wires.

She flipped the helmet around and saw it too was filled with gears and wires, and (thankfully) not a head.

“That's definitely not standardized Equestrian military!” She said out loud.

"What isn't?" Said Rarity, Who had come out of the trees and ended up behind them. "who's head are we talking ab..."

The light of her horn swept over the headless armor. Rarity stared down into the broken neck, and she let out a blood shilling scream. the light of her horn went out, her eyeballs rolled back into her head and she looked like she was about to faint.

Dr Cardiac grabbed her and steadied her with a hug. “Its not her.” he whispered in Rarity's ear. “Its not her. Its not her. Its not her.”

He repeated the phrase over over and over as he lead her away from the sight.

Twilight looked at the head. So may questions swirled in her head. What was a mechanized suit of armor doing here? Was this really a mechanized suit of armor? How did it work? How did it operate? Curiosity caused her to shove her hoof into the helmet and start to pull the gears out. But her thought were haltered by another shout.

“You better come and take a look at this” yelled Brick

They turned around to see that Screwloose had started digging in the rubble.

“It better not be another dead body Brick!” Sully yelled , still recovering from her own shock. "Or any more dead armored machines”

“Well ... Technically it wasn't a body ... Or dead." Twilight said with a nervous smile. "If its mechanized, can it relay be called dead?”

“I don't think this is the right time to have that discussion” said Cardiac, who had suddenly appeared beside her. He nodded at Rarity, who was still catching her breath over by the side.

Twilight swallowed her words, and any philosophical questions she might have had. She found herself still holding on to the mechanized helmet with more venerate than she had expected. Unwilling to throw it away like a piece of trash as she walked too see what Screwloose was digging up.

As they approached they saw that it was not another body, but a door. A big steel door. A hatch buried in the ground.

Screwloose had already uncovered most of the framework. The rest of the ponies all helped to scoop away the last dirt and aches from the door, and Twilight's magic was good at moving aside any larger debris.

Once they where finished they had revealed a big metal square. Large enough to drive a wagon through.
More surprising was how thick the doors looked. Sturdy enough to fit on a bunker.

There had to be something underneath. Maybe somepony had hidden down there when the fire started.

Twilight was thinking that maybe she could force the doors open if she put her might into it. It was an inelegant solution. But she was tired. And the drumming of the rain on the thick metal was giving her a headache.

She magically grabbed hold of the framework. Ready to tear the whole thing out of the ground if he had to.
But Dr Cardiac stopped her. He scraped his hoof alongside the edges of the door and found a small panel. It was outfitted with a round token with a life sized hoof mark.

“It's a hoof dial.” He explained. “Its like the dial to a safe. You twist it to unlock the door. But unfortunately I don't know the combination. And even if I did, there are no digits surrounding the button, so I cant see what I'm typing in.” He sighed “Its designed so only the one who knows the correct pattern can get in.”

He stepped away.

“Miss Twilight. If you wouldn't mind removing the dial from its socket”

Twilight did not understand how that was gonna get them any further. But she did as he said. It was easier to pry of a small panel then it would have been attempting to force open the doors.

With the panel out of the way a series of wires and electronics became exposed.

Wasting no time, Cardiac went to work on the wires. He asked nurse Sully for a pair of scissors she had brought in her medical bag. He then cut every single wire apart, and completely tore up the wirework. He then fetched Screwloose. And placed her over the broken panel.

Twilight's head became filled with questions. But it looked like the doctor knew what he was doing and decided not to ask.

At first nothing happened. But then Screwloose sat down and started to work on the panel. With the skill of an electrician she twisted the wires together. Finally she took a needle that sully was chewing on and jammed it into the circuitry.

There was a spark from the console, followed by a loud hissing from underneath the steel doors. Like a big amount of steam had been released. Then, with a low rumble. The doors sided open... to reveal another metal door.

"Great work." Muttered Brick.

Twilight found herself silently wishing for him to stop being such a prick. It was unbelievable enough that the mad mare had accomplished this much.

Screwloose continued to tinker a bit. There was another spark, and what they had thought was a second door to started to move. Not sliding aside - but disappearing down into the darkness. Some more tinkering brought it back up.

“All aboard the elevator I guess.” Brick said with a nervous smile.

Screwloose stuck out her tongue at the stallion.

"What? It was a compliment."

***

The rain followed them down, and continued to fall upon them as their elevator hit the bottom. There was flicker in the darkness as some sparse lamps in the roof tried to start up, but unfortunately never got passed the flickering state. Still the lackluster light revealed that
It really was a bunker here down below. Twilight had no other way of describing it.

The Steel clad walls that were revealed in the flickering lights made the whole dark scene look like something out of that horror movie about killing robots that every foal in Ponyville was talking about. Twilight hadn't seen the move herself. But this was what she would imagine a secret base of killer robots to look like.

Twilight lit her horn like a flashlight. The beam of light swept over the wall to reveal a long row of metal cubicles. A few of them still hosting their occupants - Fully steel clad mechanical stallions, similar to the one they had found up there. Rarity's horn-beam lit up the opposing wall, revealing even more cubicles and robots. Both rows disappeared further into the darkness than their light cones could reach.

“Looks like the greeting committee is broken.” Mumbled Brick. Twilight could not tell from his sour tone if he was trying to be funny.

“Are you being a prick again Brick?” Asked Sully.

He let out a heavy sigh.

“The light were probably suppose to greet our arrival. But I guess something got damaged from the explosion on top”

“Your point?”

He let out another sigh and gestured to the flicking lights.

”Since the lights are trying to greet us. And the door and elevator is working. They must have their own generator down here.”

Sully sighed. "You're right." She mumbled. Clearly not wanting to say those words to him.

Rarity swept her horn beam away from the machine stallions. And lit up a door in the wall next behind the elevator. Several cables out from the room and up to the rows of non functional fluorescent lamps in the sealing. (There was also a a buzzing coming from that room. Like a big turbine was spinning.)

"That looks like a good place to start." Said Cardiac.

He pulled Screwloose along.

"Come on girl. Lets see if you can work your magic again."

Brick. Cardiac, Screwloose and Rarity left to search that black room for a potential power source.

That left Twilight herself, and Sully standing on the platform looking out into the ill lit darkness. Contemplating the size of this underground bunker. Her magical beam could not even reach the other end of this place. An extra magical push and she might have been able to light up the whole compound. But the ache in her tired head argued against it. Tired and hungry as she was, she did not feel like straining herself with an illumination spell.

There was a spark from the other room and the light came back on properly. Twilight almost wished it hadn't. For the light revealed another horror. The signs of recent battle. the walls were filled with black holes, and dozens upon dozens of armored robots littered the floor – some of them blown apart - some of them still moving!

Sully was so shocked by the sight that she dropped the needle from her mouth.

“What is all this?” she asked.

“Illegal.” Said Twilight as she walked of the elevator. Her eyes fixed on the long metallic lances that were strapped to the sides of the stallions. Some of them sparkled with energy. "Whoever lived here has been conducting illegal weapon manufacturing."

She magically picked up a loose lance that had come of from one of the destroyed stallions. Several broken wires hung from the socket that had once connected it to its mechanical wielder.

The thing seemed to hum with energy. She reckoned it must have its own power source. Her eyes traced the many black holes that had been blown in the mechanical ponies and the walls.

She tinkered with the cables at the socket of the lance. Suddenly the whole thing gave out a crack like the thunder of lightning, and a beam shot out of the tip of the lance and added a new black hole to the wall.

“Very illegal.” She said as she carefully put the lance down.

Everypony spread out to search the big hall. Careful not to touch any of the fallen robots. Twilight swore some of them tried to grab her fetlocks as she moved past them.

But the real scary part was that most of the cubicles were empty. There were stations for more than double the amount of robots that laid scrambled here before them.

The elevator had been in top position. That meant that whoever used it last went up. Possibly taking a number of these machine stallions along with them.

More rooms and hallways dotted the walls further down the hall. Screwloose quickly disappeared down them and the rest of them decided to split up and search the place. There was also a staircase. But that was completely caved in.

Finally Twilight managed to cross the mechanical minefield, and reached the end of the great metal hall.

There was some sort of workstation and a suspension claw hanging open. Something must have been released recently. Next to it was the disturbing sight of a little filly manikin, made entirely of barbed wire.

“What do you think of this?” Sully asked.

There was a row of manikins next to the workbench. Rows of armor that looked like prototypes of the robots now littering the floor. And more surprisingly a set of what was supposed to be an officer's uniform and some sort of battle dress that might have been worn by a private. The only thing missing was the helmet.

Not that these dresses had ever seen actual combat. They belonged more in a stage play than the Equestiran military. Not a single medal on the dress was a genuine Equestrian code of arms. They were all but cheap fakes.

On the workbench laid the pieces of a helmet, similar to the ones who donned the robots, except way smaller. In fact it looked made to fit a filly's head. Twilight didn't see any robots that small. Only the barbwire manikin. Why make a robot, or more specifically, a piece of armor that small?

“ICH!” Said Rarity, in her ladylike manner of disgust. “Such cheap fabrics!”

Twilight almost jumped out of her raincoat at the sound of Rarity's voice. Apparently she had traversed the room full of downed robots without hindrance. She had, however, not gone to look over Twilight shoulder, but was rather drawn to the dresses on the manikins.

"I can tell an amateur when I see one.”

“Amateur Indeed. Whoever built this place must have had some serious power fantasies.” Twilight said, hoping to keep Rarity focused on the fabric as she pulled the raincoats hood down over her horn to hide its magical glow.

She magically shoved the barbed wire filly out of sight, and swept away the filly sized pieces of a robot head. She did not want Rarity to see them. For they - along with the fact that the naked manikin was the smallest in a set of armored ones, the weapons and the missing thing from the suspension claws - were all beginning to paint a nasty picture in her mind.

A picture that part of her was still not ready to accept. Even with the whole Belle family, and the Cmc, and Cheerilee and now Dr Cardiac rambling about the same thing, she could just not believe Sweetie Belle to be a robot. Let alone that she had been one this whole time. Her doubts had been founded in the lack of proof that technology like that existed.

But now she was standing in the middle of a room filled with evidence to the contrary.

This was getting surreal. And for all that Twilight had been through, that was saying something.

Well – If there was something she did not understand. She got an almost sickly desire to figure it out. And right now that desire prompt her curiosity about how the mechanical stallions worked.

She magically grabbed a set of tools from the workstation, and walked up to the half finished - half fallen apart stallions, and started examine it.

Like a surgeon she began to dissect the metal stallion. Removing all its armor and taking apart its framework limb for limb. The insides were covered with wires, and pulling them apart was disturbingly like pulling the muscle tissue on an operating patient aside for an organ transplant.

Needless to say the thing in front of her didn't have any organs, it had a large spinning turbine in its chest and rear which seemed to power the hydraulic pistons powering the legs and enable automatic recharge with limb movement. the hydraulic system that gave the armor movement was nothing short of ingenious and really would enable the machine mobility similar to a pony's.

But she could not understand what kind of power that drove the machine. Her expertise was magic. Computers were something that help calculate and analyze during lab tests. Big hulking things with lots of lights and dials. Not something that moved on its own. Even if one programmed an input for every possible movement the pony body could preform, it would take a massive amount of processing power to handle that information. Each and every one of these things would have to be their own walking computer. How did one fit that kind of power inside these things?

Twilight dug deeper into the bowls of the barrel like torso and pulled out a motherboard from its center.

It was a octagon shaped, flat blue disc. When she looked closely she could see several layers of thin lines running inside it. It looked almost crystallized in nature jet looked nothing like any crystal or gem she had seen before.

“That looks like something we pulled out of one of my patients. Except bigger“ said Cardiac.

Twilight almost jumped out of her raincoat again. She had been so deep in thought that she had not heard him sneaking up on him. She turned around to see he was standing right over her shoulder.

“What do you mean by “pulled out of your patient?” She asked.

Cardiac reached into his pocket and picked up a similar crystal disc, except smaller, and with a couple of wires hanging from the end.

Twilight winced when she saw the hardened brain matter on the thing.

Cardiac briefly told her about where they had gotten it, and about Sweetie's reactions to it. He also told her not to bother using magic. Their doctors had already tried.

Twilight held up the two disks towards the light. Trying to compare them. There was something similar about how the threads of brain-matter and mix of copper thread had formed in Cardiacs disc compared to the lines inside the other disc from the machine stallion.
But she could not even begin to guess what that could mean.

Another thing that bothered her was that that, despite its larger size, the motherboard had a far, far simpler linework. Its patterns looked crude and hoof made compared to the naturally formed spiders web in Screwloose's disk. It was like comparing the masterful crafted pattern of a moonspider's web to a foals drawing of said web. It was also milky translucent. The Screwloose disk might be rougher around its blood stained edges. But it was still far more transparent.

Twilight made a face. All these thoughts were beginning to put a strain on her tired mind.

“Does it hurt to think about?” Cardiac asked.

“I just cant wrap my head around all this." Twilight said as she massaged her temple. "I just know for a fact that Sweetie Belle is magical. Its a long story, but I once enchanted a doll to appear more … appealing ... in the eyes of her and her friends. Unfortunately the spell was a little to powerful and everypony ended up going crazy over that doll. Including Sweetie Belle.”

“So?...” Said Cardiac.

“So that means that whatever Sweetie Belle is made of can absorb magic energy.”

Cardiac shook his head.

"You seem to be a little to hung up on magical energy." he said "Its understandable to think that Sweetie absorbed something from the crystal. I do not deny that something happened to her. She definitely got visions. I can not say how. But if there was magic energy on that disc, then my unicorn doctors should have been able to sense something. Which they didn't. You are not able to sense anything yourself, are you?”

Twilight waved the disc around. No she wasn't.

“But that's impossible.” She groaned in frustration” Because there is something on this.” She waved Screwloose's disk. “Memories! You said it yourself. Sweetie experienced the memories of Screwloose. Memories that were stored on this.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I have no idea.” she said in frustration “I do know there are ways of magically storing memories in crystals and other objects. The harpies and dream thieves do it all the time. But every magical item always radiates some form of magical energy....” She rambled as she thought out loud.

But the crystal in front of her were completely dead to her. Like it was empty. If a memory had been magically stored here, she should be able to sense something.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of a loud barking.

Twilight and Cardiac went to see what was the matter. Following the sound of the barking mare they found their way into a separate section of the underground facility that seemed to house an entire living quarter. Complete with a few bedrooms, a gym, a toilet and a kitchen.

There they found that Screwloose had raided the fridge. Pulling out all manner of Pre-stocked food onto the floor and was now going threw the content with the same graze of a dog pulling over a garbage can. Once she saw Twilight and Cardiac she happily waged her tail. Proud of her finding. She walked up to Twilight with a biscuit in her mouth and waved it in front of Twilight.

“She wants you to have it” Said Cardiac.

Twilight took the biscuit in her magic.

“Thanks. But I rather not have something you have just had in your mouth.”

Screwloose whined and wave her head in the direction on the fridge. Twilight's belly gave out a loud rumble at the sight of all the food. Only now did she notice how hungry she was.

“But you are right. We all could use a snack right about now.”

Screwloose barked happily and started to pull all manner of food over to the oven.

“I actually think she might be smarter than she seems.” Twilight said to Cardiac.

“I agree.”

***

It was not long before every pony was gathered in the kitchen to prepare a big and well needed meal.
Sully and Brick almost immediately got into an argument about what to cook and Rarity joined in, complaining that hospital rations were no way to prepare a proper meal. And Screwloose tried to eat the ingredients raw.

Twilight quickly found herself superfluous to the kitchen, and decided to take the time to try and use the bathroom and laundry room. Hoping there would be something edible upon her return. (The more chefs , the worse the soup – or so the saying goes.)

However she found the laundry room occupied by Dr Cardiac. He had removed his rain stained doctors coat, and for the first time Twilight got a good look at his mark.

It was a silhouette of a pony head with a heart in it.

“Did something catch your eye?” He asked while he wrung out his coat over the sink. Causing Twilight to blush.

“I'm just thinking about the anatomically incorrectness of your mark.”

“How so?”

“Every-pony knows that the heart is not in the head but the chest.”

“Physically no. But mentally...” He made a break as he shook his coat dry. “Everyone like to say that we feel emotions in our hearts. But all emotions actually comes from the head. The brain. Its true that the heart beats faster when you see someone you love. But that's just the physical response to excitement. The real trigger is in the brain”

Something else had caught Twilight's eye. Or rather her ear. It was the way he phrasing his sentences with “Everyone” and “Someone” instead of the regular “Everypony” or “Somepony.”

When she asked why he said it was an old habit. He had more than ponies as mental patients.

"Other species has feelings and mental structure similar to our own. And can develop the same mental conditions. Its a way of saying that more than just ponies has feelings and thoughts, My phrasing was a way to never leave anything or anyone out of the mental equation."

“I see” Said twilight. “When dealing with a multi-species group one should not use a selective phrasing.” She got out her quill and paper from her saddlebags.

“Why are you writing this down?”

Twilight blushed again.

“Old habit. Whenever I learn something new I have a habit of writing it down. You never know when you might need it.”

She put the last dot to the paper and put it away again.

“Now. Can you please excuse me while I dry up my clothes”

“Of course.”

As Cardiac stepped out of the laundry he wondered why Twilight would be shy to get out of her raincoat in front of him since all ponies had fur - and clothes where an optional choice of accessorizing or an occupational necessity. Personally he liked his coat simply for its many pockets. Still he respected her privacy, Assuming mares did not like when stallion saw them when they where not at their finest. Especially not when they where rain soaked.

***

Later. Everypony got to enjoy a big, yet simple meal.

The table was set for all, yet Screwloose pulled her plate of the table and ate from the floor.

Rarity had not even taken her rain coat off. Insisting that they get ready to leave as soon an possible. Twilight, not wanting to appear any less, had put her coat back on.

Nopony spoke except Cardiac, who tried to entertain everypony with tales of his high school hoof ball career - of which no pony other than Brick was interested.

Twilight wasn't really listening. There was just something about the steel clad, windowless walls that made her uncomfortable. Her thoughts kept running back to the stories and movies that colts and fillies today enjoyed - about killer robots and ponies being forced to live in underground bunkers.

She wondered if this might be pony-kind's future. That when the war came, the last remnants of pony-kind would be forced to live in claustrophobic underground facilities like this one. Those had been nothing but fantasies a few days ago. But with recent reveals, she wasn't so sure any more.

Her thoughts returned to a more recent matter. As she levitated the fork to her mouth she also spun both crystal disks in her magic under the table. As if focusing on them long enough would somehow make them reveal their secrets to her.

How could Sweetie have read it? And what was a similar devise doing inside a mechanical monster?

As she tried to connect the dots she realized she could not continue her line of thought without more facts.
Rarity, and her parents, had been very vague when describing sweetie beyond that she was a robot.
She had to ask Rarity If she knew anything more. If she knew something about the disk.

Twilight put down her fork and levitated both devises up from under the table.

“Rarity. Have you seen anything like this before?”

Rarity's eyes, that had been half closed and distant, Shot wide open in an instant. She stared at the disks as if they where sucking her eyes out of their skulls. Her pupils shrank and started to roll back into her head.

Twilight knew what was coming She had already seen this reaction one to many times. She grabbed her friend and started to shake her. Hoping to snap her out of it before it began.

“Rarity! Do not faint now! We need some answers!”

***

“I,m sorry. But her brainwaves remain at an almost zero. And she shows no signs of further neroulogical development”
The doctor. A yellow pegasus with a sleek brown mane. Tapped his head to simplify.

“The brain is not developing. ”

Little Rarity's heart sank as the doctor delivered the news.

She had been in coming and going to and from the hospital for weeks. Always hoping that the next trip would be her last. that the doctors would find a cure and make her little sister better. That was what doctors were suppose to do. Make ponies better. But for some reason these doctors must be really, really bad at their jobs, for her sister did not get better. She remains sleeping, always sleeping, in that protective incubator they had her in. Never opening her eyes.

They said that all they could do was wait. And waiting was what she did.

Rarity had sat by that bed. Waiting for hours for her sister to open her eyes. She had brought cake, juice, and every get-well-soon balloon she could afford. And dresses. Rarity had made lots of dresses for her sister. Even though she wasn't allowed to open the incubator and measure her sister with tape, she had good eye for dimensions and had made a new dress every day. The hospital room had become decorated like a birthday party, with balloons cake and presents (all dresses). The staff eventually had to tell her to stop bringing more things to the hospital as they were getting in the way of the doctors work.

The two sisters had become the talk of the entire hospital. The devoted little mare who waited endlessly by the incubator, listening to the sound of the life support systems that kept her newborn sister alive. It was a story that became a little sadder every day.

Little Rarity wasn't deaf to that talk. There had been talk that her sister was never going to open her eyes. That the chance for it decreased every day. There had even been talk about shutting down the machines that kept her sister alive. Rarity had heard, but not listened. What kind of mean spirited pony would even consider doing such a thing.

But now, Even this pegasus, who had been on their side from the beginning, was saying the same thing. That her little sister wasn't going to get any better, and that there was nothing they could do.

Mom cried. Like she always did when she came here. Dad tried to remain steady as he supported his wife. but he failed to hold back the tears.

“I'm sorry.” Said the stupid Doctor “I'll go and tell the chief of medicine.”

He put the diagnosis board under his wing, like he always did, and turned to leave.

“But..." Little Rarity began in protest. "If you turn of the machines... then wont she....”

Her parent slowly hung their heads. Mom, with tears still streaming down her face, walked up and put her hoof on Rarity's shoulder.

“Little Rarity....” She said in that way parents comfort their child before giving them the bad news.

No. This was wrong. Parent where not suppose to act this way. They couldn't. They just couldn't!

“No.. NO!"

She tore herself from her mother and jumped up on the incubator. She laid flat on the transparent glass, as if trying to hug her little sister inside. Even now it looked like she was sleeping. Her tiny chest rising and falling in tune to the airpump that was connected by the tubes to her mouth and nostrils.

They told her to get off, but Rarity squeezed her tiny hooves around the glass. Tying to use her tiny body to protect her little sister from all the worlds evil!

"Rarity PLEASE! Don't make this harder than it already is!"

"NO! SHE IS MY LITTLE SISTER! I WONT LET YOU TAKE HER!”

Her father tried to use his magic to pull Rarity of the incubator. But her tiny hooves proves stronger. Her mother tried to pry her hooves of the incubator. All the while little Rarity screamed in protest as tears and snot flowed down her face.

“EXCUSE ME!” Shouted a mare. “I THINK I CAN HELP YOU!”

They all turned around to see a mare stepping through the door, she wore the biggest roundest glasses Rarity had ever seen.

“I'm sorry." She said "I heard what you where talking about. And I think there might be a way.”

What followed was a long conversation about a risky procedure that used a lot of grown up words that little Rarity did not understand.

Mom and dad were skeptical to the strangers promises. But to Rarity, there was only one thing that mattered.

“Are you going to give my sister a brain?... a brain that works?” She asked the mare.

“Yes” Said the mare.

“Then... What are we waiting for!”

Her conviction was all the convincing her parents needed.

***

“… and then she pulled this little stone out from her pocket. She said it was going to help strengthen the brainwaves and make sweeties mind develop. But it needed to be implanted directly into her brain. She said it was safe. She said she had tested it.”

Rarity panted heavily. She was lying in one of the bunker beds, where the others had taken her.

Cardiac had almost immediately pushed Twilight out of the way and taken charge. With Bricks and Sully's help the had – just barely – managed to keep Rarity from crashing.

Rarity took another sip of the water Sully held forth to her.

“After that was when the experiments began. They implanted a crystal that looked just like that into her head. It was supposed to increase brain activity. Make her able to think... to … come alive."

Another deep sigh.

"And it worked... at first...”

Rarity took a deep long breath. Her lips quivered. Twilight waited for her to continue. But she did not. Twilight wanted to ask more questions. She needed to know more. But Cardiac put a hoof on her shoulder and stopped her. He shook his head and led her out in the corridor.

He looked like he wanted nothing more than to cry himself, when he removed his glasses to scratch his tired brown eyes.

“So that's what they where doing to Screwloose." He said "Trying to make her smarter!”

Twilight magically levitated the older disk with the broken wired between them.

“But how can something like that be in Sweetie?" She asked "And doesn't that mean it worked. I mean, Sweetie seemed perfectly normal to me.”

"I know" Cardiac said.

"So... Why would they have need to make a robot out of Sweetie?"

"I don't know. But I do know that you should not pressure your friend for any more information. I’m concerned about her mental condition. to let you ask her anything else."

"Why is that doctor? what is wrong with her?"

Cardiac wiped his eyes once again.

"She seems to be going into relapse.”

“Relapse?”

“Its when she is forced to face something she had denied for a very long time. It can be quite similar to when a drug addict falls into addiction again after denying herself the drug for too long, or getting a taste for it again.”

“Hold on. Are you saying Rarity is in denial?”

Cardiac gave Twilight a hard look.

"She is, and has been for a very long time.
Its not surprising really. The mind can develop barriers that block out traumatic memories. Its a form of defensive mechanism.
The mind has many ways of protecting itself from traumatizing experiences. One of them is to take all the bad memories and lock them away. As if they never happened. But certain things can force those locks to break, and make her remember again. And every one of those memories are like an old wound that is being reopened."

He wiped his glasses on his newly dried coat, and continued.

"She believes that only she, and only she, can be the one who finds Sweetie, who fixes all this. She is no doubt riddled with guilt over how she "failed" to help her sister earlier. A failure that lead to all these tragic events. As such she had become obsessed with fixing her mistakes. She believes that she is the only one who can fix them. That she is the only one that should be allowed to fix them, in order to make up for her mistakes. This is a problem she wants to – Needs to - handle on her own.”

He pointed a hoof, almost accusingly, at Twilight.

“You are the only one she volentarely involved in this. And you are one too many.It's not surprising she won't tell you more, She probably want to keep you, and everyone else, as distant from this as possible. In situations like this its not unusual for the subject to create lies in order to make others stay away."

"Wait. Are you saying Rarity would lie?"

“Think about it. You said yourself that the whole town probably knows about Sweetie's secret by now. Yet Rarity specifically asks that no one else should get involved in the search. That they shouldn’t even be informed. Because she is afraid of what they might do. or of what Sweetie might do to them. Am I right?”

Twilight remembered the story Rarity had told her.

“She told me that Sweetie could shoot lasers out of her eyes” She said “She said she was acting all crazy... that she might even kill somepony”

"And you believed her?"

Twilight hung her head in shame.

“I don't know what to believe anymore” She said. “I didn't even know such technology existed, until just now” She waved a hoof out at the hall. “I had trouble believe that anything they said about Sweetie was true... until now.”

Worry filled her soul. The combined evidence of a missing armor in filly size - illegal weapons mounted on robot ponies, and the signs of battle did not paint a pretty picture in her mind.

"Tell me, doctor. Do you really think Sweetie might kill somepony?"

Cardiac sighed.

“No... That little mare does not have it in her to kill. But I am worried about her mental condition. She is going through so many things right now. She it out there somewhere, lost and alone. She is sad, confused and going through the mother of all existential crises … but kill?"

Cardiac shook his head. Twilight hoped that he was right. But she could not get the words of the Belle's out of her mind. Of Sweetie's emotions running on a battery that needed recharging. What might happens if Sweetie's emotions did run out? What would an emotionless machine do?

Cardiac's face hardened.

“I’m also concerned about your condition.”

Twilight's ears peaked.

“Me?”

“You have been scribbling down notes like crazy since this chase began. You dissect machines to study them when all you should be thinking about is finding Sweetie. You ask questions that have nothing to do with the chase. You try to learn as much as you can about what makes that little filly tick, both outside and in.”

His eyes narrowed.

“This fascinates you, doesn’t it? You have a chance to learn about something you never thought possible. The little stunt you pulled at the dinner table was reckless, and completely disregarding for your friends mental health. Even more so since you said that you have seen this reaction before."

His glare was now so cold that Twilight thought his glasses would frost.

“Are you doing this to help a friend, or are you doing it because you are curious? I’m sure its both. But which one is it most?"

Twilight gritted her teeth. Her horn glowed and suddenly Dr Cardiac found his lips transformed into a zipper which was quickly zipped shut.

The spell vanished a second later, but the message was clear.
Cardiac wiped his mouth to make sure it was still there. jet it was not long before he continued.

“They say that when you run out of things to say you start talking with your hooves. He sighed “You may have used magic instead of bare hooves but the meaning stays the same.”

Twilight’s own glare hardened.

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“Truth to be told I just want to make sure you are one of us. And not one of the others.”

“Others?”

“Look around you!” He gestured out to the destruction of the main hall “Someone is chasing her. You saw evidence of that in Ponyville. Them my hospital burns down while she is visiting. Immediately afterwards one of my patients disappears with non existent siblings. And now this! You saw that there were far more empty booths in the hall than there where robots on the floor. Something obviously went down here and someone obviously left in a hurry, and went to extreme measures to hide this place.
I doubt those someones have good intentions.”

Twilight once again turned her eyes out towards the basement hall. What kind of paranoia would cause somepony to rig up their own roadhouse with explosives?

Someone, or somepony who does not want to be found out. Somepony who carries out unauthorized production of militarized hardware. somepony who turns armor into mechanical warriors carrying illegal and very deadly weapons.

The whole mystery surrounding Sweetie seemed to become darker by the day.
just what manner of ill founded research surrounded that little filly?

Twilight could not deny she was curious. And Cardiac had called her out on it. His words had stung. Perhaps because there was truth to them. But she would be damned if she let anypony accuse her of not caring for her friend.

Now it was her turn.

“Allow me to accuse you of something!" She said "How come you know so much about those hoof dials things?"

Cardiac answered very patiently.

"As I've said. I spent a short time in the secret lab where they made the little miss. I saw them using these things quite frequently."

"Precisely! You were connected to the ponies that made Sweetie, do you really expect me to believe you know nothing about her?
Are you claiming you don't know that a device you have pulled out of your own patient's head is similar to what Sweetie might have inside her?”

She magically waved the disk she had pulled out of the steel stallion in front of her.

“How do I know you are not the one here who wants to find her for morally ambiguous reasons?”

Cardiac kept a calm face. But she could see anger brewing in his eyes.

“It seems we both have trust issues to work on. As I explained, I only got contacted by those ponies after Sweetie was already complete. For psychological evaluation. I never saw what components might make up her inner workings, except on an X ray. And those things are blocked by metal. If she indeed had blue disc's inside of her, I did not see it. Furthermore - I have no idea where their secret laboratory is hidden."

He added that last statement just to wave off any further questions from Twilight.

" ...Now if you excuse me. I think its best if be both keep away from each other until we have calmed down.”

He turned and walked away in a calm and collected manner. Twilight stared after him as he disappeared down the corridor. Almost as soon as he was gone the door to the bunker bedrooms opened. Sully came out and closed the door behind her.

“How is she?” Twilight asked.

Sully raised a hoof to her mouth in a gesture to be quiet.

“Better.” She said in a low voice “But not good. I slipped some sleeping pills into her water. She will be out for a while. Poor mare really needs the rest.”

Twilight nodded. She did not think Rarity had slept since they left Ponyville. And neither had Twilight. She felt like passing out for a few ours herself. But worry for her friend kept her awake.

“Is there nothing you can do for Rarity?”

“There are spells.” Sully said with a shrug ”But the doctor has forbidden it. Its dangerous to tamper with the mind.”

Mind tampering spells. Twilight had read about them but never studied any of them. And yes. They were dangerous. It would have been convenient if one could just magic the mental problem away. But the pony's mind was more complex than that.

But what Rarity was hiding, was locked deep down in her mind. Hurtful memories of a time rather forgotten. Twilight wished she could help her make them surface. She wished she could help her in any way possible.

She asked Sully about if there was any way one could enter a pony's mind to find things that the pony had forgotten. Mind reading would not work, since Rarity had blocked out these things from her mind. Mind reading was like putting your ear to a locked door – you only heard the surface thoughts, of what the pony was thinking about at the time.

“There is one called the mind delve." Sully explained. "Let's you dive deeper into a pony's mind.”

“Can you teach me?” Asked Twilight.

Sully Raised an eyebrow and rolled the needle over her lips.

“Why?”

“Because she is my friend. And I want to help her. Besides. As her friend, It might be easier for me to enter her mind, since she trusts me. Please teach me, just in case” She pleaded

“Its not an easy spell."

“Believe me. I have a thing for spells.”

“And I'm no spell-teacher.” Sully persisted.

“You don't have to teach me. You just think of the spell as if you were going to cast it. And I will copy it.”

Sully raised an eyebrow.

“You can do that?”

Twilight put her horn on Sully's.

“I told you I have a thing for spells.”

The needle passed over Sully's lips again. But she closed her eyes, and energy stared coursing through her horn. In turn, Twilight lit up hers and focused on the other unicorns magical aura. The auras started to mix until they where a single sullied color of purple. An aura that disappeared down into Twilight’s horn.

Sully opened her eyes again. A bit startled.

“Did you just?..”

“No. I just copied your magic. I did not just steal it.”

Sully shook her head. she looked like she had just been dipped in a bucket of ice water.

“Wow. I didn't know there was magic like that.” She said with a relaxing sigh. “With all your talking about Harpies and thieves earlier I almost thought that the only way to take someponys magic was to take it... away.

She scratched the back of her head.

"Yea, I'm not good with words."

She levitated the needle out of her mouth, just to see that she still could, and put it back in again.

Twilight giggled nervously.

“You do not have to be a Harpy or a thief to store memories. Anypony who knows the spell could do it. And you did not have to remove it to store it. Simply copy it, if it is something you need or want to remember.”

"The reason the spell is obscure is because there are many other, simpler ways to store your thoughts. I prefer the written word myself. And these days there are all sorts of recording devices and..."

A spark lit up in her mind.

She lifted the blue disc. Recordings. Of course. Why had she not thought of that immediately?

Amazing what difference a hot meal in your belly can do.

***

Twilight found Cardiac out in the main hall. She briefly apologized for the things she had accused him of before magically shoving the disks in his face and verbally showering him with her thoughts.

“You were right. I have been thinking about this the wrong way.” She said “What if its not magical but electronic? I realize I have been to hung up on magic. I assumed that the energy was magically since they were stored in these crystal like disks. I thought this was like a memory vessel. But what if there was no magic involved? What if it is like a recording?”

Cardiac gently pushed the disks away from his face.

“Are you saying some pony recorded her memories onto that? I thought your friend just told us that its meant to strengthen brainwaves.”

“Yes – But we also know it has the ability to store memories. Less Sweetie would not have been able to experience anything.”

Twilight was getting worked up as her mind was exploring new possibility.

“Electronic devices use electricity to function. In this case I believe they run on brain-frequencies. Memories are like energy in the brain after all. Out thoughts are made up of thousands of electrical signals between the synapses.”

Twilight stopped short of explaining science to somepony who was already an expert on the field.

“Now, if they were performing some sort of hing voltage experiment...”

“What Sweetie described sounded like shock therapy” said Cardiac. “She not only saw it. She experienced it”

“Yes. And what that poor mare experienced in that moment must have gotten stuck on this! Imagine the trauma. The brain must have been hyperactive. And if this thing was in her head. Right in the midst of all those brainwaves. All those signals must have passed through this.”

Dr Cardiac nodded “And gotten stuck on it. I see. So you are saying that it is a device able to copy, or maybe even absorb, brain patterns.”

Twilight looked down on the blue disk again. The solidified brain-matter and thin red nerve endings inside the crystal was giving her the shivers. Even more so with her recent trail of thought about it being able to absorb brains.

If they really had replaced parts of Sweetie's brain with these. What had gone wrong?

Absorbing brains.

Were these devices really able to do that? And were they then able to function like a brain? An artificial brain with hundreds of thousands of electrical signals running inside it. Sweetie Belle ran through Twilight's mind. The little mare had been so energetic, curious and full of life.
if these blue disks really could store memories, maybe they could store as much as an entire personality. But what did that mean for Sweetie? Had they taken the memories of a dead, stillborn foal, and put it in a machine. Was such a thing even possible?
Were these things also able to create thoughts? Generate emotions? Become sentient? Self aware? And where they really able to do it without magic?

She looked over at the Steel stallions she had dismantled. Suddenly afraid that it would at any moment would come to life. Or would have, if she had not taken its...

She held up the other blue disk. the motherboard from the stallion. This time looking closer at the similarities between the lines on both.

To think that there was technology in Equestria that could do such things. It was almost too much for her to bear.

“Miss Twilight!”

Cardiac snapped her out of her thoughts. She realized sweat had started to form on her brow.

She shook her head hoping to clear it. One thing at a time, she told herself. All these things were just hypotheses by now. She needed to prove her first thought to begin with.

“As I was saying. If these things can record memories then maybe we could play them up. Provided we have the right equipment. Every recording needs a device to play on. Like a record needs a gramophone."

She looked around the hall. And to her joy there was a computer terminal, similar in look to the hardware Twilight was familiar with. A big lumpy thing with lots of wires and lights. The only thing missing from it was a big helmet like the one she had used when she tried to read Pinkie Pie's brainwaves, that one time when she tried to figure out her pinkie sense. She hoped that this mystery would not give her as much of a headache. (At least this time, no clumsy pegasus delivery service had dropped all their cargo on her head.)

This computer had a pair of hoof dials like the one at the entrance. Unlike that one these actually had letters and digits surrounding them. Unfortunately they seemed to be the only way to operate the machine. Since Cardiac was clearly more experienced with this type of technology she let him use it. He explained a bit about how the machine worked. Basically you typed in the command of what you wanted it to do. And the data would then be displayed on the screen.

Twilight realized that for all her knowledge about magic she was way behind on the technological side. Her own computers and measuring equipment still used charts printed on long streams of paper. And they used to have way more clearly labeled buttons.

Cardiac recognized the look on her face, and joked about having been through something similar all those years ago.

"Back in that secret lab, there was this guy that said “Why have a single button for each function, when you can have a single button for everything?“

Twilight had to agree on that it did seem more efficient. This technology was revolutionary. And more than a little scary in its own right. She wasn't entirely sure about the idea of having all your data stored inside a machine over having to open a book – it seemed like it would risk making ponies lazy.

As Cardiac placed his hooves on the dials to try and boot up the computer terminal, Twilight picked up a big broken cable with a torn end, that was sticking out of the machine. Twilight took Screwloose's blue disk and noticed that the wires still attached to that blue disc were identical to the wires sticking out of the torn, thick cord. Already did some of her wildest theories seem that much more possible. Was this machine perhaps in some way meant to interface with these blue disks in some way?

She magically twisted the torn wires into each other, finding a match tor each, until the devise was connected to the mainframe. She wondered how quickly Screwloose might have been able to do this with just her bare hooves. It was quite extraordinary that the mad mare was capable of such jury rigging.

When she asked Cardiac about it, he laughed.

“She might not look it. But that mare has a nack for putting things together. Put a broken toy or piece of equipment in front of her - and she will put it back together, brand as new. She once even built a whole doghouse using the framework of her own bed.”

A question popped into his mind.

“Speaking of electrons, miss Twilight. Doesn't this blue disc being a electronic device contradicts your theory about it being able to absorb magic?”

“No”. She said “I still haven't been able to examine Sweetie."

Admittedly, It still didn't make sense how an electronic device could absorb magic without leaving traces of it. But one step at a time.

Cardiac shot her a narrowing glare.

Twilight realized how what she said must have sounded, and gave him a narrowing look of her own, as if trying to say: “I'm not like that.”

Cardiac sighed and put his hooves on the dials. He twisted and clicked the dials for a while. The screen in front of him lit up but not much else.

“Hm... that,s odd.” He said. “It seems to be empty.”

“That's impossible.” Said Twilight. Holding the wired up disk up in her magic. “There IS a memory here.”

“No. I mean this computer console is empty. It doesn't know how to do anything. Its like every ounce of data on this console has disappeared. Where did it go?”

"Perhaps whoever was down here destroyed all information before they left." Twilight suggested.

"That is most certainly a possibility"

Twilight looked closer on the screen. Cardiac had typed in a few commands (a few Run this, a few Exe that) But they all got the same response.

Error - File not found.

He picked up some tools from the cubicles and started to pull a side panel of the computer. He Pulled out some wires and eventually pulled out – Much to his own and Twilight surprise - another blue disk. It had been encased in some sort of metal component, and surrounded by a spiderweb of wires and cords. It was roughly the size of Screwlooses disc, with the exception that this one was far more well-shaped, and had more lines running inside it than both the other disks put together.

“It seems like these things are used for more things then we thought.” Cardiac said. “It looks like they used this thing as their central processor.”

Twilight looked back at Screwloose's disc, that hung from the end of the thick cable.

As they turned the power back onto the computer there was a visible light coming from the discs. Looking close she could see that some of the lines inside the disc had started to glow, like the filament of a light-bulb. And small electrical sparks were jumping back and forth between the lines. And, as the power increased, the sparks began to jump out of the device.

Twilight magically held it away from her. Not daring to have that thing anywhere close to her head.
She and Cardiac turned their heads back to the screen. Where now something had begun to be displayed.

What appeared on the screen was like something out of a horror movie. Through the bloodshot, blurry screen they could see some mare strapped to a chair. It was from the angle of the mares head, like the film was being filmed directly through her eyes.

Twilight was thankful that the computer terminal didn't have any speakers. The whole mute experience looked horrifying enough. And if it had been a movie. There would always be some blood chilling, startling scream.

“Perhaps your theories are proving true after all, miss Sparkle.”

Whatever thought that might have begun to brew in Twilight brain where canceled out as a mares high pitched shriek filling the hall.
It made very straw on Twilight's body shuddered. Beside her, Cardiac's glasses nearly jumped of muzzle.

The two startled pony's looked at each other as they realized that the scream had not come from the terminal.

“Rarity!”

Worry renewed as they ran through the corridors, back to the bedchamber. They found Brick and Sully standing outside the empty room.

“Weren't you standing guard you big prick!?” Sully yelled in Bricks face.

“I got thirsty, and you let her get all the water!" Brick yelled back. "Beside I thought you gave her sedatives!”

“I did! That dose should have knocked out a mare longer than this!”

“Then where is she!” Twilight and Cardiac yelled simultaneously.

Before either could answer Screwloose started barking from the end of the corridor. (Gesturing with her whole body for them to follow her)

They all rounded a corner into previously unnoticed dark side corridor and almost ran straight into the missing mare.

Rarity was walking towards them on tree hooves. The fourth hoof was filled in front of her. Filled to the brim with tiny blue fragments. Every step some more falling from the pile out of her hoof. Her pupils where shrunken and staring out into nothingness.
As she walked she mumbled in a low monochrome voice.

“Sweetie.... snack time Sweetie....Sweetie? … I've made this just for you...”

Twilight tried to get in contact with her. But it proved useless. She did not respond to either hoof waves or shouts. She just kept calling Sweeties name even as she walked right into Twilight's open forelegs.

“Whats wrong with her!?”

“She is sleep walking.” Said Cardiac. “Sort of. She thinks she is somewhere else entirely. Likely she is reliving a past event. Something sent her into relapse.”

“Was that what that screaming was about!?” Asked Brick.

Twilight handed her friend over Brick and Sully, who where told to try and wake her up and went with Cardiac. They Followed the trail of blue fragments that rarity had dropped, leading them further into the dark corridor. Twilight noticed it had become a lot colder. She lit up her horn to reveal that the corridor ended in a room that looked like a cross between a laboratory and an mine.

The room had been excavated directly into the ground and the cold was sipping in from the moistly walls. The walls themselves where filled with blue stones of varying size and quality. At first glance they could be mistaken for crystals, except none of the stones shimmered like a crystal should.

The room itself was filled with several tables. One holding a series of chemical bottles from which tubes led a strange blue liquid straight into the walls.

There was a big hamster-wheel that slowly spun rock samples around with the help of a small engine. A big thing that looked like a cider press, except it was clearly from pressing rocks. And finally a small table with mining tools and crafting gear.

Twilight picked up one of the disks, only for it to immediately crumble to ashes. She cast a analysis spell over the ashes and confirmed that it was roughly the same material as the blue disks.

That answered the unasked question where whoever made those steel stallions got those crystal like thingies. They made them themselves.

Among the tools laid several samples of blue disks. Along with a recently used hammer and a lot of blue fragments. Had Rarity just smashed some of these to pieces. Why?

Behind them, Sully called out. “Doctor I think she is coming to it.”

Twilight and Cardiac went back to find Rarity was now struggling in Bricks tight grip. Sully levitated a Needle and looked at Cardiac for perdition to use it. Screwloose was lying on the floor, ears flat to her head and whimpering loudly in a tone of pity.

“I have to feed her! She has to eat!" Rarity yelled as she trashed about. "Sweetie! Where are you!”

Twilight grabbed her face in her hooves.

“Rarity look at me! You're here! With me! Sweeties not here. We are looking for her. Remember.”

Rarity stopped trashing. But the panic in her eyes would not go away.”

“Twilight”? She whispered. “We have to find her. Now!”

“We will Rarity. Just calm down...”

“NO! You don't understand. We have to leave now! We have to find her now! I have to get this to her” She tried to scrape the blue fragments of the ground. “She doesn't know... But she had to eat...”

Twilight noticed she was crying. It hurt so bad to see her friend like this.

“Rarity.” she said. Trying to remain calm herself “Those are Crystals. Ponies don't eat... ”

“No, no! You don't understand. She has to be fed crystals. I have to give her these soon. Or she... she will....”

Rarity could not bring herself to finish the sentence. But her eyes told Twilight that it ended with a word far worse than "starve".

Chapter 14. Power Struggle

Sweetie had always thought that robots would have a lot of text and stuff floating in their field of vision. At least that's what the Bloodbots in the movie always had. Rows of text and numbers that scrolled past so fast you could not make out what it read.

Sweetie had not had any such things in her vision. Therefore she thought she might not be a robot like those from the movies.

Now she had it. And she hated it.

Her vision was infrared. And while this helped to combat the pitch black darkness of the rainy night, it was clouded by diagrams and text that told of her inner status. And even more text that told of her surroundings. Energy bars, targeting markers, trajectory calculations and mission objectives, All of which went unused since she had no idea of her course or mission.

The only thing she did know was that she hated every last bit of it.

It was so annoying to have a lot of things filling her field of vision. It was like every single voice in her head had been given a front row seat in her peripheral vision. Everything that could not fit in her eyes was queued up in her mind for their turn to bother and distract her. And those things that did pass only moved to the back of the cue to repeat in an constant loop.

Thinking about anything, or taking notice of anything only made it jump out of her peripheral vision and into her main line of sight. Not that that wasn't already occupied by two big crosshairs that kept jumping around and analyzing the potential threat of every single tree she passed.

In a way it was her own fault. Her fear of potential pursuit-bots had sent her tracking systems into high alert. The same fear that sent her running through the woods at a speed that would break the most well trained athlete.

An unknown amount of time had passed since she managed to get away from the mechanic and his murder machines. She could not say for how long she ran. Which was ironic. Of all the displays that fought for attention in her vision, a simple clock had not been one of them.

Eventually, when the fear of being chased had settled to a reasonable amount, she had slowed down to a trot.

Then there was an explosion that sent her running again, Fearing that the bloodbots were on her trail, fearing that they might jump out of the shadows at any moment. But as time passed (again it was unknown how long) and nothing made itself known, she was left to contemplate the nature of her new eyes.

They were still her old eyes. The mechanic hadn't touched them.
These things, (this way of looking) had always been in her, just hidden, locked away beneath layers of code, just like the true nature of her being to begin with. Just how much was it she still did not know about herself? How many secrets were hidden away inside various parts of her body?

Could it even be called a body? Or was it not just a machine made to look like a body? Was this shell something she piloted more than lived in? Seeing the world through this new field of vision was like sitting inside some wagon. Listening to the thumping sound of her hooves galloping over the muddy ground.

It was a while before she realized that she did not grew tired, no matter how far, or how fast she ran. The forest just flew by as her hooves beat the ground in a steady rhythm under her. They were like distant machines, pumping her hydraulic muscles under her without the slightest hint of fatigue. No strain on her legs developed, not even a voice in her head telling her that a recording of some lactic acid sequence sound be initialized. Not since her body functions processor laid silent. Not since he deleted it...

Sweetie skittered to a stop.

She took a look around. And listened.
There was nothing. Nothing other than the sound of the rain splashing against her helmet, and her new, thick armor.

Sweetie looked down on herself. A few black scorch marks dotted her armored frame where the thunder strikes of the bloodbots had bounced off her. Otherwise, she was unscathed.

Not a single bolt of her metallic, skeletal frame could be seen through the cracks in the armor plating. The mechanic had done a masterful job designing this suit. Every plate overlapped the other to some extent. meaning there were no exposed cracks where enemy's going to get a shot at her mechanical innards. Wearing it, was almost like wearing a costume. At lest she could tell herself that she was a real pony underneath.

Not that there was.

If so, she would have been able to feel the weight of the armor on her. she would have felt the cold of the air around her and the rain on her uncovered face. She would have heard a heartbeat from inside her chest. She would have been breathing heavily from the mareathon she had ran. There should have been a rumble from her belly and a pressure in her rear end telling her it was time to go to the little fillies room. She should be sore in all four hooves and her eyelids should have been heavy as lead.

She had never felt so distanced from her own body. And she had never wanted to close her eyes as much as now.

The targeting systems were becoming more of an annoyance than a reassurance as it jumped around, marking every red tree as a potential hiding spot for enemy's. The entire world was nothing but shades of red and black. Every tree and bush was surrounded by a yellow outline as the targeting system drew up the edges of everything. Even her own armored leg was outlined as she waved in in front of her face. (along with some annoying scribbles of text telling her what she already knew about said leg).

All the while the rain kept falling on her open eyes. Water she had no way of wiping off, except for her clumsy, iron clad hooves. It did not help that her heightened hearing registered every little drop that fell around her, and on her. Drumming on her armor and helmet like an orchestra.

Never before had she contemplated the lack of eyelids as much as now.

“Go away.” She thought. “Disappear. Blink.”

She could not blink. She had no eyelids to close over her eyes. They had burned off in the fire.
But she needed this. She thought she was gonna go mad if she never got to close her eyes again.

-:: !Warning! // Eyelids not found ::-

Sweetie groaned. If she could just turn off this infrared vision. If she could just make the annoying scrolls of text disappear. She could swear it would strain her eyes, if she had been able to feel the strain.

"Come on. Blink. Close your eyes."

She focused her attention forward. And once again she could feel herself stretch. Feeling herself wrap around the eyeballs. Her energy, fueled by her desire to close her eyes seemed to form a pair of imaginary eyelids over her field of vision, and everything in it. The infrared vision, the scrolling text and the targeting system was warped in that energy which Sweetie could only describe as as he magic. and the functions that guided them became clear in her mind.

"Go away!" She thought at them.

-:: Shutting down optical lenses ::-

Suddenly everything went black.

Sweetie stopped dead in her tracks. She could not see. Here eyes where completely black.

She was blind.

For a moment, she panicked. Has she just lost her sight as well?

“No! Open! Open your eyes!" She shouted at herself. "I want to see!”

-:: Optical lenses rebooting ::-

Her eyes rebooted. And slowly her vision returned. It took her a while to realize that her eyes were slowly adjusting to the pitch black night. Gone were the clear red sight of infrared. She once more had a clear, normal vision, free from any targeting circles and scrolling text.

She practiced blinking for a while. Turning her eyes on an off. On and off. After a while she had gotten the rhythm down. She grabbed hold of that small stream of code that constantly had tried to make her nonexistent eyelids close, and re-directed it to that metaphorical on/off switch that she constructed in her mind. She then re-entered her forward consciousness, and waited.

When the urge to blink returned, she thought about closing her eyes, just like she would to to pull her eyelids shutt. Her eyes instantly turned off. Somewhere far back in her mind she could hear that switch being flipped by her will.
She opened her 'eyelids' again. And her eyes turned back on.

She smiled. Blinking was a habit that ran so deep that no fire or evil mechanic could take it away from her.

She allowed herself an ounce of satisfaction. It felt so good to regain something she had lost.
She created a sub routine with the simple task of making her eyes periodically blink. Then stored it in her 'body functions'.

She remained sitting, and started doing the same thing for her heart. Her body felt so silent and lifeless without any heartbeat. The mechanic had deleted all subroutines that controlled her 'heart beat simulator'. But she remembered how it felt like to have a heart thumping in her chest.

She was able to get into the heartbeat simulator and restart it. All the settings were gone, but Sweetie remembered what her heart was supposed to sound like.

She tweaked and calibrated for a while, and when the sound was similar enough - she saved the setting and its associated functions in a new sub routine, and stored in her 'body functions'.

She smiled wider this time.

Just like she had been able to force her body to breathe again after the drowning accident she now made her other body functions start up again. It was a lot harder than just hitting the off and on switch since the corresponding subroutines had been erased and she had to rewrite them all manually. But her stubbornness persisted. Even if she had to reconstruct every routine from zero she would do it. Because she could not let the mechanic get away with taking anything from her! She would not let herself loose any functions.

She would not loose the feeling of being a pony!

She listened that steady rhythmic pumping from her chest. It sounded wrong to her heightened hearing. She quickly turned the sensitivity down to the right levels. But it didn't help much. It was not just that the sound now resonated through a metal frame instead of flesh. It was not also that the metal armor made the thumping echo like in a hollow cave.

Hollow...

Sweetie lifted her head up towards the dark rainy sky, and let the drops fall into her eyes.

Did she even remember what it was like to be a pony any more.

Could she remember?

Did she have the memories?

A new wave of anxiety washed over her. She needed to make sure that all the memories were still there.

She shut off her eyes to ease the process as she focused inwards. Eventually she could feel herself slip, falling backwards into herself.

***

It was like falling into a cesspool of information. A thousand files cluttered the reaches of her subconsciousness. Where previously the information of her motor skills had sat in their respective components, only surfacing whenever she stretched her mind out for them - they were now a shoal of new information, running wildly without anywhere to go. Data that had previously been kept in check only by her pressing urgency to run away from her would be captive, was now pulling her down. Each and every one demanding her attention.

Sweetie panicked, as she thought that this was what the Mechanic had done to her mind. That opening the secret doors on her mind had once again flooded the place with even more programs.
The only thing that kept her focused in this sewer oh chaos, was the worry for the state of her precious memories.

The shoal of new data reacted to this will, and began to dissociate itself. Singling out a section of the swirl labeled 'Memory files'.

Sweetie made her way towards them.

-:: Loading recently acquired memory file // Loading recording nr 21 // Memory file labeled as "Erotic" ::-

-:: New data Loaded // Uploading data to central nervous processor // Running record ::-
-:: Synchronization with systems ::-

-:: Memory file playing ::-
-:: Registering new environmental information ::-

-:: Uncomfortable ::-

Suddenly, Sweetie was not in a rainy forest any more.
She was indoors, sitting on a comfortable chair in front of a big, round table. She felt the cosy, yet uncomfortable padded chair underneath her. The seat was hot, and she could feel the sweat forming on her rear as she had clearly been sitting her for very long.

Except. She had never been sitting here.

Whatever awe that Sweetie went through at the astounding notion that feel, actually feel the sweaty chair beneath her and the hot air around her, was quickly pushed aside by the question of where she was. And when?

In the dim light if the single lamp hanging over the center of the table she could see a number number of ponies sitting with her around the table. All strangers to her. There was A yellow pegasus with blue hair. A brown earth pony with an orange mustache, and a unicorn so black that he almost faded into the shadows behind him, If it had on been for his fiery red mane and equally red eyes.

There were others as well. Sitting just outside her field of vision. Sweetie could hear their tired voices as they murmured in a discussion that had clearly been going on long before she got here. But as she tried turning her head to look at them, Sweetie found that she could not move her head, her eyes, or any part of her body.

In fact. Even her body felt wrong, It was too ... big.

Sweetie didn't get more time to think about that. For as her eyes continued to turn to the right, sweeping across these strangers, they fell upon a scary familiar face.

THAT MARE! That crazy mare yellow mare was sitting right next to her.

Sweetie wanted to fly of the chair. To crawl down and hide under the table before that crazy mare set her on fire again. But she could not control her body. Not even an inch. She was stuck like this. In a strange body, in a strange place, that she by all accords had never been in.

It did not take her to long to realize that this was not her memory. It was somepony else's, being played up on all her systems. Making her feel, smell and hear the world around her as if she was actually there right now. As if she was somepony else. Experiencing what they had experienced.

Trapped in a foreign body in a foreign memory, Just like she had in that memory of Screwloose.

Afraid that pain would be coming. Sweetie metaphorically pressed herself as far back as she could (which was not by an single inch). Afraid that the mare would jump at her at any second.

However. The yellow mare wasn't even looking at her. She was sitting with one elbow buried into the table and the hoof buried into her cheek, looking bored as she stared out towards the other end of the table.

The eyes Sweetie was viewing through briefly tracked the mares eyes, finding that, at the opposite end of the table sat a third mare, hidden behind a pair of glasses. There must have been other features to this pony, but the glasses caught all of the dim light that might have fallen upon her face and reflected it outward with such intensity that it looked like she had a pair headlights instead of eyes.

Sweetie could not put her hoof on it. But for some reason the sight of those glasses filled her with a since of familiarity... and dread.

Her mouth was moving, but her voice faded into the murmur of the ponies around her. Sweetie wasn't listening to what they were discussing - and neither was the pony she was currently possessing.

Her eyes slowly slid back to the yellow mare. But she remained focused on the conversation. Seemingly unaware that this pony was staring at her.

Regardless, the eyes continued to pan down over her mare. Taking in every inch of her body before coming down to the mare's mark.

It was the silhouette of a pony. A profile picture of the pony anatomy, with the different inner parts laid bare and color coded like a picture in a book about the body. One of those pictures that always got a collective "Eeeeew" from the class whenever Cheerilee brought them up for a biology lesson.

Sweetie had not been able to get a good look at the made mare's mark before. But she got ample of time to study it now, as the eyes remained staring at it for longer than seemed necessary.

For some reason, the sweaty seat underneath her seemed to be getting hotter.

"Do you see something you like?"

Her eyes instantly went up, and met with the mares. She looked at her with the same grin that grownups sometimes do. Now it was the cheeks that were getting warmer as Sweetie felt this pony blush and the heart beat raise.

Her eyes were diverted back out to the meeting. Where the tone was growing more negative.

The brown earth pony slammed his hooves down on the table.

“Mares! Gentlecolts! Please. I know that the power issue is of great importance. But we need to thing about the long term consequences as well. One day this filly will grow up.

“Even though that seems unlikely now” The black stallion cut in. A red glow appeared from his forehead as he levitated a check-board up in front of him. “With the healing crystals just barely substantiating the tissue. Decomposition and rejection of the organic tissue continues to be a problem.”

He looked over his notes to a blue unicorn stallion, sitting across the table

“Don't look at me.” Said the stallion. His dark blue eyes growing cold. “My crystals are perfect.”

The brown stallion shirred its orange mustache.
“I still dare to believe she will one day grow up. And the metallic parts we put in her now will not be growing with her. This is going to lead to extreme physical problems for the little one. Up until now he have been using an endoskeletal support frame with a telescopic function to slowly increase the size of the body. But such a frame is not gonna cut it all the way into adulthood.

“Lovely that you care.” Said the yellow pegasus with sleek brown hair. “But if we cant solve the power issue, then there wont be a future for her. The blood-turbine system we tried is barely enough to sustain itself , let alone power her cybernetic parts. Its why she still only has one, maybe two active hours per day between recharges. Which brings us back to square one. We need a bigger battery.”

“Which brings us to square zero” Said a thin orange unicorn with a messy black mane. “How are we going to charge this battery? Its all fine and dandy now when the subject is asleep for 23 hours a day. But recharging her in her sleep is not always going to be an option. We need some form of self sustaining system.”

“And I'm telling you. There is no way to put more parts into the body without sacrificing more tissue.” The brown pony shot back.

The pony Sweetie was occupying stood up.

A thick male voice rolled out of her mouth. A voice Sweetie recognized all to well, as she had just run away from that voice not to long ago.

"Gentlecolts, Mares, I believe that I and miss Marrow here have the solution to all out problems.”

He pulled out a file from under the table using his hoof. A green hoof stained with a few metal gray stains. Fewer than Sweetie had seen, but still enough to be recognizable.

Sweetie wanted to throw herself into the nearest wall. She wanted to bang her head in the table in front of her, anything to make this devil of a pony that she was occupying suffer.
But she could do nothing. These experiences were nothing more than a recording. A movie playing up in her head, and on all the five senses in her body.

Sweeties little tantrum ceased as Molten pulled out a number of identical schematics from his file, and had the ponies with magic distribute one copy to each of the seated.

"I got the inspiration for this from real life." Molten said. Smiling to the mare next to him. "In a real flesh and blood body, the food that you eat is broken down in the stomach, and all the nutrients - protein and mineral and all that good stuff – are then distributed over the body, like building blocks. Basically - You absorb the energy from the food you eat to power you body."

“Technically it's the intestinal system, not just the belly, that breaks down and absorbs the energy from the food.” The yellow mare pointed out.

Sweetie felt the face of the stallion she detested smile at the mare that she hated, and she smiled back.

“Yes." He said "But this cybernetic belly will be able to break down and distribute all that is eaten, without the need of the rest of those long intestines. And if we don’t need the intestines, we can make room for a lot of other stuff her body needs instead. Like a couple of those batteries you have been working on.”

The pegasus, the blue unicorn and the orange one lifted their heads. They seemed quite pleased with the idea.

The brown, mustache adorned stallion at the other end of the table, did not share their enthusiasm.

“So. We are to get rid of even more organic tissue?” He said with a sigh “You do realize the only organic part left on this filly is going to be her fur."

Sweetie felt molten shrug at this.

“The subject has been rejecting all organic tissue with increasing frequency. It has been so right from the start. In fact. I want to say It's like it wants to become mechanized.”

There was some mumbling to this.

For the first time, the mare with the big glasses spoke up. Her voice was quite stern and stoic. and made the others shut their mouths.

"Lets say that this is going to work." She said, her glasses seemingly shimmering as she spoke. "How is this going to sole our "growing" problem?"

The question was not directed at Molten, but out to the entire group.

"Anypony?"

The blue unicorn with the cold eyes tapped his chin with his file, and smiled.

"I see what you are getting at Molten. And I believe, no, I know this will work well with a few ideas of my own."

"You have a suggestion then?"

"I was already working on a way to sustain the metallic organs. A self repair program if you will. I just did not have a way to get any raw material into the body. but with this." He waved Molten's file "It will become an even more advanced version of the repair program. This belly of yours breaks down the raw material into microscopic fragments, that my system then distributes across the body."

"Only problem with that is that the system wont work without a schematic." Marrow cut in. "Without any idea of what to work towards, the system would most likely just pile up the raw material..."

"It would be like a builder piling up a giant pile of bricks because he doesn't have a clue of what the house should look like." Molten finished.

"It would grow, but it wouldn’t have any shape." The orange unicorn pulled a hoof through his greasy hair. "Alternatively, it would expand her current body form And then we would have a filly the size of a full grown mare in a few years."

“So what you are saying is that we will have to decide what she is gonna look like when she grows up? That the system needs a Schematic for a full grown pony to know what to work towards?" The black Stallion said, and smiled. "So in other words – We need to draw up some schematics for a full grown mare?"

“Probably a few in between states as well. Fillyhood – tween – teen ect...” Said the orange unicorn.

The black stallion made a wheezing sound as he laughed through clenched teeth.

“I like the idea of being able to design your own daughter this way.” He said “That way you can make sure she doesn’t grow up to become a broad, fat, ugly mule.”

"That's racist against mules, and you know it." The brown earth pony said with a sigh.

“What will we do until such a system is finished?” Asked the Pegasus.

"Don't worry. We can always sedate her, shut her down, and then stretch out the bolts a little. So to speak. Its what that telescopic function is there for." Answered the blue unicorn.

“Agreed.” Said the mare in glasses. “I want us to make this our main focus. Molten, Marrow, I want you two to start working on that belly immediately, and Boe..."

The brown earth pony looked up.

"Design a system that goes with it. Prism and Shockwave, start working on some distribution magic. See if you can make raw material attach itself to a new surface without the object loosing its form."

The pegasus and the blue unicorn nodded.

"Necro, Stake. Make sure the little one 'grows' a little in preparation for the new augmentations. Stretch the skin out, but a little at a time. We need to give it time to grow without breaking. Crank up the volume of those stimulants, and make sure the protein disperser does not start leaking again."

The final pair of unicorns, the black and the orange, nodded.

"And finally, I don't want to hear any of you horny stallions talking about what curves we are gonna give her. We wont need to worry about designing a future body until we know that this distribution system works. That is all.”

At the mentioning of curves - the head Sweetie was occupying turned to look at the mare next to him again.

The mare in glasses banged her hoof in the table. Immediately, everypony started getting up and leaving.

Everypony except the one who Sweetie was hitchhiking in.

He waited until everypony had left. Then he walked up to the mare in glasses. Closer up, Sweetie could see that she was an orange mare with a brownish gray mane.

Still. Her big glasses shimmered so much in the dim light that Sweetie could not make out her eyes.

"Yes? Was there something else, Molten?"

Molten put a hoof to his mouth and cleared his throat.

“Yes. There was something i wanted to discuss with you. I believe this project is a waste if all we are gonna make is this snugly little teddy pony.” He nonchalantly circled his hoof in the air as he spoke. “It would be such a shame if all out research just were to just become a doll for that mere common couple to drool over. There is so much potential that could be used with this technology. And I believe we need to explore every aspect of it. Its our duty as scientists after all.“

“Just out with it Molten”. The mare hissed, clearly growing inpatient. “What is it you want?”

“What I want... Is to defend Equestria. ”

The mare rose an eyebrow.
Pleased that he had caught her attention, Molten's voice rose as he when on into a speech.

“Imagine: A computer that can think on its own – It would be the greatest deference system in Equestria. No longer would we have to send real ponies to defend our borders. No longer would parents have to worry for the safety their children. No longer would foals have to worry about if their parents will be coming home."

The mare raised an orange hoof. Stopping his speech before it would go on for to long.

"You seem to forget that there is a couple who would worry. You know. The parents would never allow this."

Sweetie could feel Molden's lips curve into a smile.

“Maybe they don't need to know.”

The mares look seemed to harden. Even though the glasses.

“Are you seriously thinking about turning our little project into a secret weapon?”

Molten gave a shrug.

“Don't worry. I wont actually add anything deadly. I Just want to run a few test an see what the software is really capable of. Besides – we need to create a new frame anyway. So why not to increase the durability of the while we are at it. Why not build it to last?”

The mare crossed her hooves under her chin. She thought for a moment before she gave the 'go ahead'.

Molten nodded and quietly slipped out of the room, and into a steel clad corridor. The metal gray walls seemed similar to the underground armory where he stored his steel stallions, (or were going to store them) but not as wide. This place seemed far more claustrophobic. And seemed to only consist of narrow corridors.

Molten made some turns down the maze of steel before coming up on a door. Not a regular door with handles. But a steel door with the name “Molten Metalhoof” scribbled in a welding plate in eye height. There was a hoof dial next to it. Molten twisted in a code (a far simpler one than Sweetie had seen him use to entered his secret lair). The door slid downwards into the floor with a metallic hiss. And Molten entered a quite ordinary looking room.

A small suite with little more than a bed and a large desk. Upon which a lot of papers, schematics and diagrams were stacked next to an array of small trinkets, gears, wires and springs put together in an arrange of devices – Each no bigger than a pocket watch. There was even a few small sculptures of tin, and a smelting pot next to them.

The door automatically hissed shut behind Molten as he entered. He walked up to the desk and pulled out a drawer. He pulled out even more papers and put them on his desk. Then he removed the bottom of the drawer, to reveal a small notepad, lying hidden on a second bottom.

Molten pulled up this notepad, and sat down at the desk to flip through it. In the thin light of the desktop lamp, Sweetie could see him stopping at a scribbled schematic of some very familiar looking blasters. Next to them he has scribbled down some potential names.

Weapon names: Energy canon - BFG – Master Blaster...

He reached up to scratch an itch that had been building in his neck. As he scratched it, the vision suddenly became blurry, and faded into static.

-:: Recording ending ::-

Sweetie returned to her own body. The memory of a cozy indoor environment slowly faded as the hollow existence of her callous metal body returned to her.

She looked up into the rain.

So, that was the answer to a question she never had time to ask. That was why the mechanist had weapons that seemed designed specifically for her, and not the other Steel Stallions. At least that explained why she had her cannon ports.

Her mind went to the two big weapons, now resting retracted and dormant in her back. Even with her cannon ports closed, and the weapons powered down, she could feel them, just like she could feel any other part of herself if she wrapped her consciousness around it.

It was not a feeling like the sense of touch, like pulling your hoof through your hair and feeling the stroke bend every straw of hair. It was more an awareness of presence.

Sweetie looked down on her hooves again. Maybe she wasn't as out of touch with her body as she thought. Skin or no skin, there was still this ability to course through herself. to ride along on this energy she felt coursing through her circuits. What was it? Was it magic? Or just electricity?

If so, did other machines feel the energy flow through them? It was not like anyone had ever asked how a toaster felt, as one plugged it into the outlet.

Just like the blasters had been plugged into her.

It was fascinating how quickly her body had taken in these new parts. How quickly it had accepted this extension of herself.

She guessed that explained how her systems could have “recognized” the blasters. They had been part of her before. The blasters may have been removed but the things in her eyes had been with her the entire time, just hidden from her. Hidden, like a lot of things.

Her mind wandered back into itself. Back to that cesspool of information she had taken from the mechanic.
There, on the bottom of that pool, laid that little file called "Control program." A file that Molten Metalhoof had dug up while searching through her mind. A file he had just glanced over before moving on to empty her body functions processor with that simple, terrifying word.

"Delete."

Sweetie would have shivered, had that sequence still existed.

The irony was that she had wanted the mechanic to wash her brain clean of all the robotic files and programs. To clear her mind of their presence so she could start thinking like a normal filly again.

Now she had ended up with even more useless files and programs than ever before. All floating in the back of her head, like a shoals of confused fish trapped in a way to small barrel.

Schematics over many different types of Steel Stallions. Calculations on how the Steel Stallion was superior to the average royal guardspony. And how many would be needed to properly defend Equestria (from all foreign hordes). There were military plans on how to defend Equestria from an imminent attack from Dragons, Griffins and pretty much every neighboring country – all at the same time. Plans of retaliation and invasion of said other countries. Self approved propositions on how to accumulate other countries' culture and welfare into Equestria, and make Equestria the single dominant empire over the entire world. And other stuff, in which Molten Metal praised himself as the greatest war hero Equestria will ever see.

Well, shame on him. He had tried to take away her memories. He had taken away her ability to feel tired, or hungry, or sleep.
It was only fair that she had taken all of his stuff in return.

Sweetie started to try and sort out the many new things floating around in her head.
She rooted through the stuff for a while, until she just wrapped up the entire package into a single file and shoved it into the back of her mind.

Next she turned her attention to her own memories.

She went back down into herself. As far back as she could remember. Past birthdays and vacations, to a time far before she came to Ponyville. To a time before Rarity moved away from home to start her business in Ponyville.

As she went back, Rarity shrank. Decreasing in age. The same with her parents, and the house around them. The wallpaper changed. The houses changed, the things in the house decreased from the treasure trove of memories that had been building up over the years, to just the bare essentials of a newly moved in family. But even though they might be financially strained, they could still afford to celebrate her fourth birthday - her third birthday - her second birthday - her...

-:: Memory corrupted ::-

… then suddenly, she came to a halt. A point she could not remember anything past. She had never tried to remember so far back, and had never had any reason to. But her memories just ended as they moved into their new house. Why could she not remember being born? Did any foal have memories of the very first day of their lives? No pony ever talked about it. Everypony said that memories got a little fuzzy the longer back you went. But she had a good memory. And for things to come to a screeching halt like that... what if he had managed to delete something?

The crying sequence remained silent. She had no tears to fell anyway.

She did actually not get sad at all. She got angry. Angry at the evil pony who had almost removed all her memories! The pony who had stripped her of the things that made her a pony and almost turned her into a Bloodbot!

And the worst part about it was. She had almost let him do it!

She had thought it would be so cool to dress up in armor. To receive some real weapons which to defend herself with. Defend all of Equestria, if that mechanic was to be believed. She had let herself get swept away by his warm chuckle and gifts, because for just a moment, she had managed to not feel sad.

She did not want to be sad anymore. She did not want to be sad ever again. She wanted the bad memories to go away so they could stop hurting her. She had almost let him remove her memories, because she did not want to feel sad any more.

Was she a sleeper agent? A bloodbot in pony skin just waiting to be activated?
The thought of the control program pounded in the back of her head. Dormant as the program might be, Its very presence scared her to the core.

In the movie. The Bloodbot infiltrators had all appeared like normal ponies. Scared and confused. Especially the foal shaped bots. Who were used to pray on sympathy to get close to ponies. But once they got sight of Rampony Mactails, their killer programming kicked in. A programing they said laid dormant until certain conditions were met. And gone was the innocence that had fooled everypony but Mactails. Gone. As if their core programing just deleted it.

What would have happened to Sweetie Belle if the mechanic had activated the control program? Would she have lost all her memories? Would she have become a mindless killing machine?
Would she then just go around all day and defend Equestria from all the foreign hordes, as the mechanic had put it. Tireless. Emotionless. Memory-less.

Sweetie grabbed her head. Suddenly the memories encapsulated in this titanium enforced cranium felt like they hung on by a thin thread. Like frail leaves that would be gone to the wind if some pony typed in the horrifying word "Delete". Suddenly it felt like if a single pony snuck up behind her and whispered the word, the control program would take over, and turn her into an obedient bloodbot.

But then what would have become of the pony known as Sweetie Belle? Did she not have a say in this?

Why could they not just ask her if she wanted to defend Equestria?

Sweetie would have loved to defend Equestia. She loved Equestria. But why did Equestria not love her?

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Well, screw Equestria! And everypony in it!

The thought made her so mad that her combat mode activated. She stood up as the blasters shot out from her back and started humming all threateningly. Her eyes turned infra-red and her targeting system started scanning the forest for enemies.

One thing was for sure. She would not make the mistake of trusting any other grown up, or anypony, ever again.
If she ever saw another grown up again, she wanted to scare them. She wanted her blasters to come out of their ports and her eyes to turn red. Then they would know to stay back. And if not ... Then, she would make them.

For she would not let a single pony get close to her. She would not let anypony endanger her precious memory or free will. Not for as long as there was even the shadow of a chance that anypony could take control over her would she trust another soul.
If she did not have a say in what she was to be, then she would not let anypony else say another word.

If she could not teach the world to love her, then she would teach it to fear her instead!

Chapter 15. Power struggle part 2

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

-:: Exe shuttdown of emotional processor ::-

-:: Shutdown in progress ... // !ERROR! // Command override // Foreign signal detected // Rebooting Emotional Processor // Resuming emotional processing ::-

-:: Shut down foreign signal ::-

-:: Unable to comply // Foreign signal not responding to command ::-

-:: Locate source of signal ::-

-:: Signal origins analysis // Scanning ... Please wait ... // Scan complete // Signal origin located // Signal origin designated at Heart-Drive interface ::-

-:: Attempting breach of Heart-Drive interface ::-

-::! ERROR! // Unable to exe command // Interface incompatible with current software ::-

-:: ... ::-

-:: Open file :: Control Program - ::-

-:: !ERROR! // Unable to exe command // File protected by password // Please state password ::-

-:: Attempting breach of control program ::-

-:: !ERROR! // Breach attempt ended in failure // Please state password ::-

Sweetie let out a metaphorical sigh.

Her consciousness returned to the outside world. The heavy rock of frustration and failure growing in her armor clad chest. An uncomfortable feeling that was even more palpable now in her un-feeling, sense-less body. A feeling she had been doing her best to shut off (With little to no success). If just for a little while. Just to get a break from these heavy, sad emotions.

She had already been digging through the files in her mind for some time. Getting to know the inner workings of herself, and make sure they obeyed her. And re-designing them to her liking.

Many unicorn foals tended to close their eyes in concentration as they tried to use magic for the first time. To make the energy do what they wanted. Shutting off her eyes... and diving down into herself (Something that was starting to become somewhat of a second nature to her) could not be too different from that.

She had already created a new subroutine that would ready her weapons and combat systems upon spotting any strangers. Parents always taught their foals about To be weary of the danger of strangers. It was perhaps no wonder she had named her new defensive subroutine “STRANGER DANGER”

It had been easy. No more difficult than to make her artificial heart beat, or her synthetic air-pump to breathe in and out. Or her eyes shut down to simulate blinking every now and then. As long as the functions were there, it was just a matter of telling them what to do. Weaving their code to her liking.

She wondered if this was so different from weaving a spell. She told herself that it was not. She was simply taking control of the energys and voices in her body.

And if she could make her voicebox sing memories of old songs like a recording on a gramophone, or could turn on and of her body functions at will. Then she could make her body do whatever she wanted.

In a way, she should to be thankful not having to stop to rest, eat or sleep. The sense-less metal body made her indifferent to the cold or the rain and the infrared eyes that made the dark no bother.

Hunger, Fatigue, Exhaustion. Sleep. She had conquered them all, These things could not hurt her any more.

But they were not the only things she had to conquer.

Her emotions were still playing tricks on her mind. These dastardly recordings of somepony else's feelings.
If she could only turn off these emotions, she would save herself the risk of a new tantrum.

As such she turned her thoughts to her emotions.

Dr Cardiac had said that all emotions emanates in the brain. And the brain sends these signals to the rest of the body.
Sweetie had looked for those signals. She had scanned her mind thoroughly - but found nothing. There was no part in her skull that emanated those signals.

The only thing she found was a small part of her brain that were processing these signals, An EP (Emotional Processor) That sent instructions to her BFP (Body Functions Processor) - that then activated the correct sequence in her body. Or would have, If the body functions had not all been deleted.
(Well - All except the crying sequence. But that function was broken without her tear-sacks anyway.)

Sweetie had attempted to shut off the EP several times. But it always rebooted as new signals demanded to be processed. (It was not unlike her BFP, constantly rebooting from the constant stream of data from her skin-sensors. It was not until after she had shut down the signal at its core that she could stop feeling the frozen rain.)

In this case, the core of the real signals were also coming from somewhere else. Like an echo from far far away. Sweetie had started an Introspective journey, and followed that echo through countless wires and subsystems.

Eventually she arrived at a dead end. A cold wall that blocked her progress.
This time she recognized the energy of a foreign spell put in her way. A blockade similar to the one who had separated her
consciousness from the many voices back in her mind. This one too, preventing her from reaching any deeper into herself.

The evil mechanic had called it a firewall. But even though Sweetie perceived it as cold, he had been right about something. Despite there being no way in through the wall, there was something getting out. A sort of warm energy coming from behind that wall. Pulsating, and creating an echo that her EP kept interpreting into emotions. It seemed far to complex too be a simple line of recorded emotional files. In fact, whatever was hiding deep inside her didn't not seem to be transmitting any data or code at all. Not a single voice that whispered what she should do, not a single sequence trying to activate. Just this echo, of a pulse, coming from behind that wall. Like fire beneath the ice.

Sweetie was tired of walls and ice. Tired of all these spells and locks on her mind and body.
She immediately started to craft the key to open that lock to her heart.

This time she knew what she was doing. It did not take long for her to surround the energy of the frozen-wall-spell with her own energy. (It was like putting a magic field around a magic field – she assumed that was the right way to describe it) and made her energy flow through the frozen wall. Getting a feeling for it. Absorbing it. Make its energy a part of her own. One she understood how it was constructed it was easy enough to make it bend to her will.

Sweetie would have smiled a wicked smile. She was a natural at this. And once this final obstacle was down, she would be the master of her own body and mind.

Once the wall was part of her it was just a matter of telling it to shut down. It easily submitted to her will. And once the curtain fell it revealed...

Nothing.

It was not like the cold walls of Ice that her previous inner wall.

Rather it was just an impenetrable inability to proceed any further.
Like there was nothing there to proceed further into. As if the component she was looking for was missing. Like she had hole inside her were something should have been.

No. that could not be true.

There was something. There had to be. Now that the "firewall" was down, she should have access to that strange component that had been hidden from her. Her so called heart drive.

But it was like it was somehow incompatible with her systems. It was emulating an energy. Data was now reaching in to the invisible component. Streaming back and forth / in and out through the thing. Passing through it like it was not there. She could not control it, like she could with her other components.

It was like the streams of energy and she rode on suddenly ceased to exist. Like they fell out of her systems. Disappeared into a empty ravine. A ravine with nothing on the other side. Like the narrow road of data she had followed through the jungle of subsystems suddenly disappeared into an invisible mountain. And she had slammed head first into that mountain.

Because she knew it could not be a void. There was something there. A lot of wires were mounted into this something. And it hummed. It sent signals. The echoes that resonated through her entire body were all coming from here. From inside that void. But it was a one way stream. Everything came out, but nothing came in. Her ability to grasp it ended at the edge of the connection ports.

Sweetie stared dumbfounded at this obstacle (as much as one can 'stare' at an internal organ.) Her consciousness surrounded it. Trying to get a feel for this elusive component. It was constantly sending sorrow into her systems. But she could not make it stop. She wanted to just turn her sorrow off and happiness on. But it would not let her.

What kind of magic was this? What spell blocked her from the deepest parts of herself?

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

So many questions. She had to deal with them later. For now she just shoved them all into her “Mission objectives”. Who she cleverly renamed her “To do list”. Right behind cracking the secrets of her heart drive.

She needed to get through that void and make whatever was inside hers. And if it was not compatible. She would make it compatible.
She mentally reached out to get a grip on the elusive component. And found that it was not impossible. Now that her energy and data was reaching through to the thing, Some strange data had begun to form, just at the edge of the connection ports. Like cracks in the void, slowly pulling the elusive heart drive into existence.

She focused some more energy on in. But it did not seam to make the progress any faster. Sweetie once again found herself beating her hoof into the unknown. Slowly digging into a void that housed a mysterious pulsing flamed that filled her EP with sorrow and pain, but also - in this moment - curiosity.

Breaking down this mysterious barrier would take time. Sweetie mentally made a program set on cracking the heart drive. She made it a top Priority in her "To do list". right next to cracking the stubbornly stupid control program.

She then attempted to pick apart the Control program many times over. But it was password protected. And unlike the frozen firewall she could not tear it down, no matter how much energy she sent at it. And guessing the password got her nowhere.

It was clear that she did not have full control of herself.

But she would have. She swore it as she aggressively sent some more energy at the stubborn component.

The thought of power made her bring up her energy readings.

A marker appeared in her vision. A small rectangular symbol with a plus sign on one end, and a minus sign in the other. inside the rectangle was a single dot. Blinking red, right next to the minus sign. The rest of the hollow rectangular, was empty.

If she could, Sweetie would have swallowed hard.

She realized that the only reason she had not noticed her dropping power level, was because she had turned off all warning sign's along with all the annoying text in he vision.

Now the system said she did not have enough energy left. She noticed that breaking through the heart drive would take far longer than she had energy for.

How much energy did she have left anyway.?

Not much...

The Fight and escape from the mechanic had drained her.
The Master Blasters used up an staggering amount of energy. Every time she used them she could feel them drain her. Just turning them on drained her. And the mechanic had not recharged her. Not fully. The little energy she might have gotten from eating his crystal had not made up for the staggering amounts of energy she had lost during her escape.

For all she knew she had already been running low on energy since long before coming to the workshop. She had no idea how long ago her last recharge had been. She had no internal watch. Somehow she had expected a robot to have a watch in their system. But of all the things she had, that was not one of them.

Her logical side told her to shut down the unessential programs, like the heart beat and breath, to save energy.
She obliged, and her body went silent once more as she one by one turned of her heart beat, her breath and etc...

Since she did not feel tired or sleepy, she had no idea how to keep notice of her energy. That little energy bar was all that forewarned her about an imminent shutdown.

She wondered what a shutdown would be like. Would it be like going to sleep. And never wake up? How could she wake up if she had no energy?

She could not bear the thought of shutting down and never be reactivated.

Not unless somepony else came along and recharged her. But she could not count on that. She could not trust another pony to save her. She had to be able to take care of herself. And the first thing she needed was power. Fast. And she was not gonna find it by sitting around here.

The priority on her to do list immediately changed to a need to find power. But where were she to find in these empty woods?

A roar of thunder filled the forest, and for a second the area was lit lite the bright of day.

Sweetie looked up. The weather was getting worse. Big flashes of lightning lit up the night as thunder rolled over the sky.

Sweetie looked longingly up as the light rolled across the dark sky. Lightning would be able to recharge her. But it was way up there.

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

The stupid weather was taunting her. It brought the cold rain down on her but kept the important, life saving lightning up to itself.

She was gonna build herself some wings and fly up there and take that lightning for herself. But she knew she had no time or material to do that.

If only the lightning would strike her. She had learned that wild Lightning often strikes that wish is closest to her. That meant the highest point from the ground up - closest the clouds. Maybe she could climb the treetops and hope the lightning would strike her.

She wished she could call out to the pegasi that had to be in control of this weather. Tell them to send some lightning her way.

There was an extra loud crack of thunder. And then she saw it. Of in the distance, on an hill, was a large tower. A thin, triangular shape, Like a radio tower, Or maybe some form of lightning catcher, as the bolts on lightning struck it again and again with increasing frequency. It was almost like the storm was drawn to the tower. And the worst of the lightning roared above it.

The thin, dark structure had been impossible to spot even with her infrared vision. But now it lit up like a beacon of hope.

Sweetie made her way towards it.

Even though she lost sight of it due to the trees, her internal compass told her which way to go.

***

-:: Heart-Drive integrity :: 84 percent ::-

***

… Sweetie was running through the mud and rain. Through a forest of black dead trees whose sharp branches tore at her as she ran. Through puddles that splashed filthy water upon her hollow metal skeleton.

Behind her the ground was shaking from a stampede of a thousand royal guards. Heavily armored ponies with magical energy lances. Unicorns with their horns glowing as red as their hateful eyes. Pegasi with big crossbows covered the skies like a cloud of predatory birds. They plowed through the forest, destroying everything in their path.

Sweetie emerged from the trees, but the ground disappeared into a big chasm below her. There was nothing in front of her but empty sky and an ocean of red clouds.

She turned around to find that the edge of the cliff was surrounded by a thousand guards in golden armor. All with stoic expressions and their weapons pointed straight at her.

Their mouths moved, as they spoke in perfect unison. Their thousand voices echoing as one.

“HALT, YOU DANGEROUS AUTOMATION! YOU ARE A THREAT TO EQUESTRIA! YOU ARE UNNATURAL! YOU MUST BE DESTROYED!”

Sweetie was shaking. Rusty scales were falling of her frail, rapidly deteriorating skeletal body.
She tried to speak. Her voice sounded like a little squeaky whisper.

“But... I'm a real pony”

”NO, YOU ARE NOT. NOW DIE!”

Every pony fired their weapons in perfect unison. A thousand projectiles of Spears, arrows and magical energy flew towards her at the same time. They merged together and formed a wall of destructive light that lit the world in purple. A purple wall that came to destroy her. Just before the wall reached her she screamed.

“RARITY!”

But Rarity was not there to protect her.

***

Rarity awoke with a twitch. A quick look around her confirmed that she still was in the mattress clad interior of the hospital wagon. Next to her sat Twilight. Whose horn gave of a faint purple light that lit the otherwise dark, cabinet like space. In her magical aura hovered a quill... and a piece of paper … Which she was writing on!

“TWILIGHT!”

Hysteria cracked Rarity's voice to a high pitch shriek as she in a dazed state threw herself from her end of the wagon and over her friend.

“YOU ARE NOT WRITING TO CELESTIA!”

“No...” Said Twilight, having to magically push away her hysteric friend. “No, this is a map. I'm just writing down what we have learned and are trying to figure out where Sweetie might go next.”

The nurse Sully. Who had once again been slumbering in her corner of the mattress clad wagon. Briefly opened her eye. A needle of sedative appearing in her magical grip. Once Rarity showed that she was not going to put up a fight, she closed her eyes and seemingly nodded back into sleep.

Twilight sighed as she released Rarity from her telekinesis.

”I'm just trying to figure out Sweetie's next move, If we knew where she was going, we might be able to intercept her and catch up to her.”

“Have you come up with anything?” Rarity asked. Almost pleadingly.

Twilight wrinkled her eyebrows. Clearly not wanting to way no.

Rarity expected that trying to estimate Sweetie's whereabouts was not the only thing Twilight was thinking about. She was sitting with the crystals visibly in her open bag next to her – they now had three of them – one broken and bloody – one dull and cheap - and one professionally made, that they had pulled out of a from computer mainframe they had found at the secret base.

Next to that was a smaller pouch of the blue crystal like material they had excavated from the impromptu mine.

Twilight saw her wandering eyes, and muttered.

"I still can't believe you fed Sweetie crystals. And for all this time, without her, or anypony noticing!

No. Thought Rarity. I suspect you can't.

Twilight's words were not meant as an accusation. But Rarity took it as one. She should have said something. Done something. Done something different... but... truth was, every time Twilight said Robot it was like a needle in her heart. She had never thought of Sweetie as a robot. She was just a normal pony... who happened to have needed some mechanical limbs.

Rarity leaned towards the window that Twilight had conjured up on the side of the cart. There had been a lot of awkward explaining to do after they had managed to calm Rarity down from her hysteria. Seeing that cave full of - what she learned - was artificial crystals, had sent her into a delusional panic. Being reminded of Sweeties needs, and the horror that she could not fulfill them, was - as Dr Cardiac had put it - a traumatic stress experience for her.

She then had to explain why Sweetie should eat crystals. And with every word she was forced to speak, she felt as if more and more distance was put between her and her friend.

***

“You fed Sweetie crystals?!” Twilight had said, quite shocked. “How?”

“We baked them into cookies. Or at least mother did.” Rarity answered. "Hard crispy cookies with a lot of strong minty chocolate to hide the sparkling ingredient. They are her favorite. And has been for as long as I can remember. Mother made them just for her. And I think you can imagine why.”

Rarity regretted not bringing the cookie jar along. She swore she was gonna give Sweetie all the cookies in the world once she found her.

Was she programmed to like them? They asked.

"NO!" Rarity had shouted. Programming was a very uncomfortable word for her. “She liked them of her own volition. We had to test quite a few things before coming up with the right recipe.”

Twilight did not understand how a robot could “chose” to like anything. But Dr cardiac hushed her and urged Rarity to continue.

“So. Have you always been feeding her cookies?” He asked.

“No. When she moved in with me I could not take the risk of crystal sprinkled cookies lying around. Not when there where other kids in the village. Especially not after she made friends with the little hurricanes Applebloom and Scootaloo. What if she had suddenly invited them over when I was not there? What if she had suddenly offered them cookies?"

Rarity had tried to keep the sweets out of reach, but the troublesome trio would have found a way to get them. They always found a way.

“Mother kept sending packages ever so often. But they were just regular cookies. Same as always, minus one ingredient. But Sweetie loved them regardless. So don't you dare say anything about programming!"

Mom and dad could not be expected to always find enough suitable crystals, and then bake them up while they were traveling. Besides, it would have been the equivalent of smuggling if they where caught.

"No, I had to cover that part of Sweeties nutrition myself." Rarity explained. "I have no difficulties finding suitable gems – It is my specialty after all.”

“But how did you keep feeding Sweetie the gems without her finding out?” Twilight asked.

“I found a way...” Rarity said. said. To embarrassed to go into details. She imagined the truth might hurt the friendship between her and Twilight more than her secrets already had. For the truth was that she had learned everything about the taste of different gems from Spike, the ever faithful dragon. It had just been a casual conversation. And the little dragon had happily shared the information, glad that Rarity found it interesting. She did not want to think about it as using or manipulating Twilight's most trusted assistant and oldest friend. But a thorn of guilt were throbbing in her conscience.

Twilight thankfully did not delve deeper into that matter. But the conversation was far from over.

“But if she is able to crunch crystals with her yaws. What kept her from accidentally munching on something else? Foals are known for sometimes putting things in their mouths – (especially since pony's carry things in their mouths all the time).”

“Brain ghosts I presume” Said Cardiac. “Since she was raised on the idea that certain things are not to be munched she might well enough have believed them to restrain herself.”

“That and the ... programming.” Rarity forced herself to say.

“Programming?”

“She has restrictive programing that keeps her from preforming feats beyond what a normal little filly her age should be able to. If she was to attempt to chew on something to solid, the restrictions would - for one - not give her yaws enough power to to it. And she would not have been able to bite through it. - Second - The pressure she put on her jaws would result in a feeling of strain. And eventually pain. Simply put, it would hurt if you bit too hard on a frozen biscuit after all.”

She sighed.

“Not just her jaws actually. But if she strained any part of her beyond the set limits she would begin to experience pain – exhaustion – strain – etc. Just like a normal pony."

“Then how could she chew crystals?" Nurse Sully asked.

“Sweeties taste sensors analyzes everything she puts in her mouth. If her taste sensors detected crystals it would temporarily release the restriction and allow her chew down the crystals with ease.”

“Activate pain?” Brick said. A bit late into the conversation "How is a robot able to feel pain? Do you mean like artificial pain. Or some form of pain simulator?”

“No. Real pain.” Rarity said with shivers. The thought was on the verge of triggering another, very unhappy memory.

Thankfully, something about the way she said it made them drop the subject. but unfortunately. Not all of the other subjects.

“Restrictions.” Twilight sighed. “Do these restrictions also control things like hunger and sleep?”

“Um... Yes." Rarity stammered "Her body was made to reflect a real foal in every way.”

“That's what I was afraid of.”

“What?”

Twilight's expression became very serious.

“Rarity. Do you think that, since discovering the truth about her being, would have been able to turn off these restrictions?”

“If she is,” Said Cardiac – who clearly followed Twilight's thoughts. “Then she would be able to move tirelessly. Without having to sleep or eat. Whiteout ever growing tired.”

Everypony's face seemed to darken at the possibility of the chase becoming that much harder. Of Sweetie Belle outrunning them, and they never being able to catch her.

“NO!” Rarity shouted at this terrifying thought. “She cant. She wouldn't. She has a barrier in her that keeps her accessing her systems.”

“In other words keeps her from becoming aware of her mechanical body.” Twilight stated.

Rarity nodded “The systems that controls her body function runs individually, without her knowing."

“Like how our body operates without our conscious thoughts.” Said Cardiac .

Brick scratched his big round head.

"I don't understand." He said Brick. "How can you not be aware of your body? Don't you move your legs by willing it?"

Cardiac sighed.

“Direct control yes. But there a many things in your body that functions without your willing it – bowel movement – heartbeat – breath - etcetera. They are all technically controlled by your brain. But not directly by your conscious mind.”

Rarity nodded.

“Her mind and her body are two separate things.”

Twilight sighed again. Her uneasy expression not letting up.

“Rarity. Your parents said that she had an emergency shutoff that deactivates her sense of pain should it become too much. - what if the same is true if she has gone hungry, or tired for to long?”

Rarity's eyes widened.

“Don't you dare say that!" She snapped. "Pain might be one thing, but it has nothing to do with her food-systems.”

“How long was it since she left Ponyville? How long since she last ate?”

“STOP!” Rarity screamed. The thought of her little sister starving was too much.

“She was hungry when she last came to my hospital” Cardiac said. “She was fed plenty there.”

Rarity breathed a sigh of relief.

“But what if somepony shut them off for her?” Said Twilight, gesturing out to the computer. To the torn cable. “Something was hooked up here. Something escaped from here.”

“And something took all the information on the hard-drive with it.” Said Cardiac. "Information likely relating to these gentlecolts."

He kicked one of the dormant Steel Stallions for emphasis.

That made Rarity panic again. If Sweetie really did not stop, eat or sleep. Then her energy levels would drop even faster.

"And she needs to sleep." She cried "That's how she saves energy.”

Besides... How long since she last ate a crystal? How long since she last recharged?

***

Rarity leaned back from the cold wagon window. Outside the rain was becoming worse by the second. And the two stallions pulling the wagon was slowing down. The rain must be hammering on them, regardless of the new rain coats she had made for them, out off material she had found in the bunker. (Say what she might about the cheap military costumes found in that place - at least they got so serve a purpose.)

She had offered to make a raincoat for the crazy Screwloose as well. But the madmare seemed to enjoy sprinting through the rain and stomping in the deep puddles, uncovered - except for the torn up restraining jacket she was wearing.

Rarity sighed. These thoughts had not made the knots in her belly ease up. It only tightened them harder. Now, everypony was thinking about her dear little sister as some machine, and they had almost taken the fact she would eventually run out of energy as something good. As they would then be able to catch her.

Since then, Twilight had been continuously trying to calculate how far Sweetie could have gotten, should the worst have come to pass. She had asked Rarity a lot of questions about what Sweetie's true abilities were. Questions that remained unanswered. For the truth was, she did not know. She had never known what Sweetie's unshackled machine body was truly capable of.

Nor was she meant to.
Nor was Sweetie meant to.
Nor was anypony meant to.

Sweetie was suppose to be just your everyday normal filly. Like she was meant to be. The thought that somepony had put military grade hardware in her little sister was disturbing to say the least. And even more so was the thought that somepony might have activated them.

And yet. The most disturbing things were the endless speculations that Sweetie might have become more and more aware of herself. How alienated must she not feel from herself? From the rest of the world? How different she must feel from everypony else? These were the thing Rarity had wished to protect her little sister from.

But alas, her protection had worked too well. It was that very protection which had brought this fate down upon her. Though she did not want to admit it, it was exactly what her mom and dad had said. It was inevitable that Sweetie found out one day. Now how would she look upon herself in the future? How would she look upon her family?

How would she look upon her big sister, after all that she had caused?

Twilight twisted in her seat as the wagon shook, and thunder rolled over the black sky outside.

“Lets think about this. She would need to recharge at some point. And there are no gem stores in the area, and the woods are one of the least gem futile areas around. Is there some any other place she could go to recharge?" She looked up from her map and notes.
“Where would you go if you where a robot and needed to recharge your battery’s?”

Thunder roared outside and a flash lit up the sky so bright that it was almost day for a second. The wagon shook and came to a stop as the madmare outside started howling like a wounded wolf.

They both looked outside the window and saw a great big tower lighting up in the distance.

"What is that?" Rarity asked, as thunder struck the tower again.

"That has to be one of the storm towers" Twilight answered. "They are part of the lightning gathering experiment for turning lightning bolts into household energy."

They exchanged a look as realization dawned on them. No one said anything. But they both thought the same thing.

***

Up in the skies above the forest flew an orange pegasus. His ice cold eyes straining to see anything in the dark. The Ice cold rain was beating down on him, and his black raincoat was weighing him down. He was freezing all the way in to the bone. Yet he refused to come down. He had an important mission to complete. He prayed to Celestia for just a little more strength.

She would need to recharge soon. Molten had said. Shockwave had a good idea of where one would go to get power.

The tower was hard to see against the dark and cloudy heaven. But when it got hit by lightning, it would light up so bright it could be seen for miles, if you had a birds eye view. And one advantage with being a pegasus was that you always could get a bird eye view.

Shockwave struggled against the hard wind to remain above the treetops. Through the rain he kept his eyes open for the tower that he knew was somewhere in the area.

He waited for lightning to strike it. He knew it had to strike it. This was the last autumn storm. The weather team would not pass up this last chance to harvest as much lightning energy as they could before Hearts Warming Eve, and all the other winter holidays. The demand for power always rose during the during the darker half of the year. Bigger cities basically drank batteries to power all their lights, and made a really good profit for the lightning harvesting companies.

He should know, he had worked for one. Alone, and in self imposed exile on a remote stormtower for many years. The same tower he now kept scanning the forest for.

The air was filled with electricity. He could feel it in his wingtips.

Thunder roared over the heavens. He could feel the discharge in his tail. He looked around in the rain over the horizon of treetops.

Lightning had started to strike down all over the area. In a storm as big as this it was difficult to control where all the discharges would end up. Even so, he knew that a collaboration between the ground harvesters and the pegasus weather patrols demanded that the center of the storm be focused above the tower, where it would be easier to catch.

Shockwave followed the feeling in his wingtips towards the biggest concentration of energy.

Lightning struck again. And this time he spotted it. For just a second the tower lit up with energy, and was clearly depicted like a beacon of light in the darkness, higher than any of the trees.

Shockwave thought briefly about the others down on the road. But he decided not to go down and tell them. He did not trust them anyway. They might claim that their goals aligned. But it was easy to see the sin in their eyes. Especially Molten, who had spent years repeating the same mistake, and create more and more of the metal monstrosities. Prism was as cold as they come. And Marrow, may Celestia bless her soul, had lost her mind long ago.

He doubted any of them would take the chance for retribution that had been bestowed upon them. No. that lot fell upon him, And he would not fail. This was the perfect opportunity to finally deliver the long overdue foal to Celestia's mercy.

Most of the lightning hit the tower. But many lightning bolts still went awry, and struck down into the treetops. The lightning strikes increased in regularity and intensity. The the tower was now blinking, sometimes lighting up continuously for several seconds as multiple strikes hit with increasing frequency.

So did the lightning that was coming down all around him. The lightning bolts were striking the tree tops all around the tower.

As he flew he prayed.
“By Celestia's grace let her be there. Let her be there so i can send you into Celestia's embrace so that your soul can ride into the everafter where it belongs.”

Suddenly, as if an answer to his prayers, one of the awry lightning bolts missed the treetops, and headed for him. It struck down on him. Right between the shoulder blades. He never saw it coming.

His wings and legs stiffened straight. His neck and spine tightened and his mane and tail stood out as the electricity coursed through his body.

But he did not fall. Contrary to the common case, the lightning had not burned his rain soaked body to a smoldering crisp. Neither did it stop his heart or cease his muscles nor send him into spasms. It strengthen him. After the painful second had passed his aching muscles eased and he could beat his wings harder than ever before. The cold in his bones all butt forgotten, dried away by the lightning bliss. He could feel the energy coursing through him. All the way out into the tips of his feathers.

Shockwave was possessively sparkling with new energy. He clapped his hooves together, and sent a big flash of lightning jumping continuous between them.

He took a moment to shake his head from the rush, and regain his orientation. His mind seamed clearer than ever.

He sent out a silent thanks to the heavens for this power boost, and set of for the tower with renewed vigor.

Yes. He thought. His prayers had been answered, and soon Celestia's will would be done.

Soon a tortured soul would be liberated from its torment.

He could already see the silhouette of pony shaped objects galloping through the forest behind him. With his new Sky-given energy he picked up speed. Beating his wings against the rain as he soared ahead towards his old workplace... Where the door already stood open.

Author's Note

This chapter was split in two because I felt like being lazy during the summer.
Unlike how I did with chapter 'Inferno' I will not be mashing these parts together at a later date to create one big, continuous chapter.

Also: will be going away on a vacation now. So don't expect the continuation to this epic cliffhanger to arrive for a while.

In the meantime. I wish you all a warm and happy summer.

Chapter 16. Power Struggle part 3

-:: Power levels dropping ::-

The door flew off its hinges as Sweetie turned and bucked it.

She did not have time to wonder about her newfound strength. The last red dot in her battery icon had already disappeared, and the empty rectangle was flashing warnings fast.

The tower had been surrounded by a concrete structure. A square shaped building that fenced off the big lightning catcher from the outside world. As much as Sweetie would have loved to blast through it, it was no longer safe to use the Master Blasters. Besides, she did not want to risk destroying any potential power source that might be inside.

So she had ran around the place looking for the door, and found it only thanks to all the hazard signs places over it, Just when the final dot had finally vanished, and her vision filled with warnings about an imminent shutdown.

Panicking, she had not bothered to knock.

Inside, The whole station was empty and dark.

Sweetie looked around, skimming her eyes into the darkness, not daring to activate her infrared vision.
Where was all that power stored? Where were all the turbines and giant batteries?

Contrary to her expectations. The place seemed to be devoid of electronics. What greeted her was just a boring office building with some chairs and desks, a closest with some overalls, and not much else. It did not even have any working lights. The only illumination came from the lightning in the sky being let in through some windows in the roof (which actually made the place light up quite brightly as the lightning repeatedly struck the tower outside.) since no other windows decorated the gray walls.

There was a humming noise filling the air. The very walls seemed to vibrate as the place was struck with power. Where did all that power go? And how was she supposed to get to it?

Continuing deeper into the relatively small facility. Going counter clockwise she found that the adjacent room was an office of sorts. (and beyond that what looked like a living quarter.)

But, she had never seen an office that looked like this.

Continuing the low-tech theme, every table had been filled with candles. Not one or two. But hundreds.

Towards the middle of the room, the tables had been moved out of the way, and stacked on top of each other in a large circle.
Even the chairs had been stacked on top of the tables in order to make higher pillars. And they were all covered in candles. Some of them so high up that Sweetie suspected you would need wings to reach them all.

Candle wax lay thick over the table tops, and hung like stalactites over the edges, where the melted candle wax had continued to spread across the floor. In some places forming stalagmites under their hanging brethren.

If they were all to be lit, the place would be basking in light. As it were, the mountain of wax laid dark. Only lit up by the occasional flash of lightning shining in through the single small window in the roof.

There was just enough space between the tables for Sweetie to make her way through the center of this candle-fest.
She thought she would have been forgiven for thinking she had stepped into a church.
The humming in the walls seemed to give this place a life of its own, Accompanied by the roar of thunder from outside and her EP could not help but to process the word "Spooky" in her mind.

On the inside of the circle, the candles continued down onto the floor. The tallest, newest candles were placed in the outer circle, closest to the tables. The old an almost out-burned in the inner. Continuing towards a single round, clear spot on the floor. Just large enough for a pony to sit in. There, in the center, the word "Sin" was scribbled onto the floor.

The dot above the 'i' shimmered as another flash of lightning lit up the place. Something blue and hexagon shaped. With thin straight lines shining through its reflective yet transparent surface. Shimmering with beauty during the split second the flash of lightning lasted.

Sweeties mind jumped.

A crystal.

She immediately made her way through the darkness. Stumbling and almost fell as the candles were crunched underneath her metallic hooves. She did not care if she desecrated this weird place of worship. She was only thankful that whoever had made this sanctuary had chosen to make a crystal its centerpiece.

She fell and slid the last meter as was was being rubbed onto her hooves. She caught the crystal in between her hooves, satisfied at the 'clinging' noise the jewel made as its surface made contact with her metallic fetlock. She immediately opened her mouth wide and gobbled it down, not even bothering to chew. It didn't even touch her tongue as it fell straight into her open maw. Not that she would have been able to tell either way. She could not even feel any taste. And if the jagged edges of the crystal cut her throat, she did not feel that either.

She did however, mentally follow the crystal down into her belly. Se closed her eyes and focused on her cybernetic belly, she had to reactivate it in order to absorb the energy. Then it was just a matter of letting the system do its thing.

Even if the crystal did not fully recharge her, it would at least buy her some time.

Given more time, she might have marveled at the advanced break down procedure. At how her belly was filled, not only with toothed rings that ground whatever was thrown down there like a leaf shredder, but a lot of magical crystal components, charged to melt and disintegrate the objects into microscopic fragments. The things that bombarded the crystal with energy. Energy that coursed through the crystal and, in a fraction of a second bounced through all of its thin lines, and then back out again.

All Sweetie knew was that she felt a spark from her belly. Similar to one that had once erupted from her horn, and in an instant that spark traveled, not to her battery, but to her mind.

-:: Compatible energy detected ::-

-:: Compatible component recognized ::-

-:: Data stream recognized ::-

-:: Connection established ::-

-:: Transferring information ::-

-:: Memory file detected ::-

No!

Sweetie opened her eyes as another set of foreign files appeared in her mind. Memory files that were all to eager to share their knowledge with her.

-:: Playing recording ::-

NONONONONO!

-:: !ERROR! // Synchronization halted // !ERROR! ::-

-:: Recording stopped // Playback halted ::-

Sweetie sat up in horror as she realized what it was she had in her stomach. That had not been a crystal. That had been a memory storage devise! Thinking about it. Had not the "crystal" looked an awfully lot like Screwlooses strange blue disks!?

Why? how? What was one of those things doing here? Were there other mad ponies running around? Perhaps that would explain the strange decoration. Where they still around?

More question were shooting through her mind than she had time to process. Thunder roared outside and the office became brightly lit as lightning struck the tower again. In Sweetie's vision. The little red energy bar continued to shine, red and empty. Not even a single dot was added to its frame.

Did those crystals not contain any energy? Was it only memories? Was it only by her own energy coursing through those things that their memories was absorbed? How much energy had she wasted to make her belly absorb it?

As if to answer, Sweeties belly went silent as the energy necessary to run it ran out.

-:: Panic levels rising ::-

Sweetie stumbled and slid across the candle-wax, her mind making a hundred miles per hour, She had to do something fast. She needed energy now. But where? How? where?

Her panicking thoughts became stuck in a loop as she stumbled away of the altar and out to another open space behind it.
More candles filled this side of the floor, and Sweetie lost her balance and went face first into the floor.

Sweetie lifted the helmet, that had slid down over her eyes, and another flash of lightning revealed that somepony ad scribbled "Salvation" on this side of the altar.

Where was her salvation when she needed it the most? At any moment now she was gonna shut down.
She looked up, eyes scanning for anything, but finding nothing. Not even an electrical outlet.

Oh Celestia help me now.

Another flash rolled across the building. And there she was. Tall and mighty with her wings spread wide.

Sweetie jumped backwards as she was suddenly standing before Celestia herself. Her panic level skyrocketed, and she would have screamed - had she not turned off her voice to save power.

-:: STRANGER DANGER // STRANGER DANGER ::-

The new subroutine roared into action. The two blasters shot out of her back and started powering up at the instant this stranger had appeared out of nowhere.

A part of her rebelled against this information. Why was she here? When did she even get here? And how?

As the flash of lightning faded away - so did Celestia.

Sweeties infrared eyes scanned the spot where she had been standing, but she found nothing. What was this? Was the place haunted? was she experiencing hallucinations due to power failure? She had heard that some ponies starts hallucinating when they experience drought, or lack of oxygen for too long. Was the same true about failing power levels for machines? Was her mind playing tricks with her as it slowly began to shut down?

A second roll of thunder, followed by a new flash. And there she was again. As Radiant and stoic as the first time.

The light was sustained longer this time, as several bolts of lightning simultaneously struck down outside. Allowing Sweetie to get a better look at this ghostly incantation of the princess. As her targeting system tried to lock on to Celestia she noticed that her highness frame was a little... flatter than she had expected.

Walking up and tracing the princesses long legs downward, Sweetie saw that they ended at the base of the wall. Celestia's form was motionless. Lifeless.

Sweetie put her hoof on the wall.

A painting?

The thunder continued to roar outside. And the image of Celestia faded in and out of existence with the light of the lightning.

No. there was not painting. No frame. No mural painted straight onto the wall. Whenever a flash had passed, the wall was empty and grey.

A new wave of lighting, and Sweetie noticed that the shadow she was casting left a hole in Celestia, and that a piece of the princess appeared on her outstretched hoof.
Sweetie turned her head and found that she was basking in Celestia's light. Quite literary. The part of the picture that was missing was now being projected over her back.

She traced the source of the light upward to a window in the roof above her, on the opposite side of the room. There sat a small stain glass window of her royal highness. Every time lightning shone in through the window it projected a life size image of Celestia on the wall.

And behind her, behind that Stain glass window, was the tower. Lighting up like a beacon as thunder, struck it again and again.

Yes... Sweetie now understood what she had to to in order to get that power.

Thank you Celestia.

It was almost as if Celestia had shown her the way. She wanted to take a few metaphorical breaths to calm herself. And comb down her hair, witch felt like it was still standing on edge.

Except... She did not have any hair. A tail maybe. But no fur, nor mane. Yet that feeling, eerie similar to how hair stands on edge when exposed to static electricity, remained. Coursing upward through her entire body. Almost like she was standing under an industrial strength vacuum.

Oh no!

She looked up behind her. The Master Blasters were still humming at her sides. Even though she had not fired a shot, they continued to drain her dwindling energy's.

Curse you Celestia!

Sweetie retracted the blasters into her body, Shutting them off. But the damage was already done. She could feel herself slowing down. The infrared disappeared from her vision like a light-blub going out. And every single icon and warning disappeared with it. Sweetie would have gulped as even the little red battery triangle vanished.

Even her vision stared to fade

There was no longer enough power to support any adaption to the low light environment.

The only thing that did not loose power was her heart drive, as it seemed to explode with panic.

No. She could not shut down. Not now. Not when she was so close.

'Don't panic', said a voice in her head.

Sweetie closed her eyes, and only reopened one of them. Diverting the power from one eye to the other. Inside her, even more systems were shutting down. diverting power to just the bare essentials. All of Sweeties five scenes when offline, except her one eyed vision. Even her strengths was lowered to the barest of minimum, just enough to put one hoof in front of the other as she continued through the complex.

All except her heart drive, which continued to beat furiously, forcing her EP to stay active and process all of the fear and anxiety, But also a burning refusal to give up.

Oh how she wished she could tap into that source for just a little energy boost.

With only one eye working, and most of her strength gone, she exited the hall of excessive Celestia'l worship. Rounding the next corner, she thankfully found the way out to the tower.

However, it was blocked by a sturdy iron door. A door with no handle. just the signs “Warning, dangerous area, do not cross into the courtyard during storm harvesting” - along with a hazard image of a lightning bolt.

Sweetie did not have the strength to pry it open. She had to tune down the strength of her piston like muscles to reduce their power outtake.

There was no buttons on the walls to activate the door. Sweetie suspected the swish must be in another part of the building.
and she doubted she did not have time to lock for it.

The blasters had already been charging up. And sweetie had no idea how to take the energy back.
It was not fair. Why where they sucking her dry and not letting her take the power back?

In her desperation she made a quick decision.

Just the energy that was already in the blasters would have to be enough.

Sweetie readied herself, and mentally prepared the sequence. Just pop the blasters up - fire - and then take them down again. For safety sake she made a sequence that would do it with her.
She mentally entered her blasters firing sequence. Shutting off everything that was not necessary in the turbine like system. Wishing to Celestia she was able to stop the draining and just make the blasters use their own energy to open up - ready - and fire. And she would have to do it without targeting systems.

Sweetie positioned herself in front of the door, standing as close as she dared to make sure it got caught in the blast. She ducked her face underneath her helmet, and activated the firing sequence.

The blasters erupted as the sky did, and formed a thundering chorus that probably would have been ear shattering in the confined space, if Sweetie had not turned her ears off. Her world became wight as light filled the corridor, and the force of the impact hit her dead on.

She had been standing to close. And with no backblast to compensate for her own recoil, she was sent backwards. Sliding on her wax covered hooves all the way back into the far wall. The blasters retracted, empty and spent, into her back.

She had to steady herself not to fall as her back bashed into the wall. Luckily the slide had scraped most of the wax from her hooves.

She looked up.

The door was still intact...

… But the frame wasn't. And the lightning from the tower was shining through the cracks.

***

Shockwave flew in through the open doorframe. The fact that the door was lying broken on the floor was evidence enough that she was here. Nopony else could have any reason to enter this place. Especially not during the dangerous harvest.

He turned to the left, and continued clockwise around the complex, until he found the stair leading down.

Down there was a true sparkling power station. Giant generators crackled with energy as they struggled to store all the power being delivered from the sky. For safety reasons - the storage facility had been built underground. Also for safety reasons. The place was to be unmanned during the harvest, in case something went wrong.

That's why nopony would have noticed Shockwaves absence, as he left for this crusade. And if it all went as he hoped. It would be over before the harvest was. He could barely contain his excitement - or the energy of lightning that was coursing through him.

He briefly considered what he would tell the others. That she was already broken when he got here. That she had short circuited herself in an attempt to recharge. Playing with such high dangerous voltage would surely be too much, even for her.

On second thought. What would be the point of lying when all was past and done? Weren't lies just another form of sin? Would they even believe him? Would he not rather face their wrath here and now, then the wrath of her holiness when his time to be judged came?
Which - truth to be told - might come very soon. At the hooves of Molten's machines.

Oh well.

First things first. One tortured little filly's suffering was about to come to an end.

Shockwaves rubbed his hooves together, making them sparkle with electricity, and hovered out over the turbines. dodging between the thick cables that root-like hung down from the roof and the tower above. Each cable connecting to a spinning turbine. He carefully checked each and every power station. But, he could not find anything.

Confused he circled the place a few times, without finding any signs of her. He landed back at the door and decided to check the control panel on the wall if any unauthorized power outlets had been opened.

The generators weren't showing any signs of abnormal readings. But a small light were flashing next to the displays.

Shockwave looked closer.

"Warning, door to courtyard breached."

His eyes widened.

No. She couldn't have ... could she?

***

Bolting as fast as her failing legs would let her, Sweetie let her helmet do the work as she rammed her head into the iron door.
It swung open without protest, and a good chunk of the broken doorframe flew out into the courtyard.

Sweetie was now standing before the massive storm tower. Her deaf ears not registering what would presumably be an deafening roar of lightning and electricity. Her single eye was nearly blinded from the light that emanated from the giant lightning catcher.

The top of the lightning catcher.

While the sky was hammering the top half of the metal tower to its hearts content, the lower half remain dark and power-less.
Somewhere down the middle, the electricity was being diverted by massive cables into a central pillar made of concrete. Probably some form of safety measure. From there, all that juice energy dissipated into the ground. Presumably into tunnels and power-lines that diverted the energy over the whole forest.

And away from little helpless Sweetie.

It just wasn't fair.

The EP in her head was beginning to write "Anxiety attack" all over the wall. But it spoke to a silent and empty BFP. It was probably for the better that no shivering sequence existed any more, It would just have consumed more energy to break down now.

No - She was not breaking down. The little logical voice in her head hushed the EP and told her that she did not have time for anxiety. The energy she so desperately needed was up there. She just had to climb up there and get it.

She started to climb the tower. It was constructed by a series of X shaped iron bars forming segment after segment in a thinning shape up to the pointy top. Acceding it was no more difficult than climbing the climbing frame in the school yard.

Slowly and carefully Sweetie rose into the air. Both because she did not want to fall, and because She could feel herself slowing down. Every step seemed to take longer than the last. And the tower was wet and slippery. And she was dressed in heavy, bulky armor.
The list of problems only seemed to get longer as she rose from the ground.

The only small comfort was that she did not have to worry about exhaustion.

The lightning seemed to hit the tower with decreasing frequency now. Was the storm really about to end? Or was even her perception of time slowing down?

Her left back leg jerked, and went limp. The servos in her joints squealed as she struggled to push just a little more energy into it. Just to position it upon the next step. She could feel her mind slipping as she did so. If some part of her went out from the effort, she did not notice. She just had to continue climbing. That was the only directive remaining in her mind, just put your hoof around the next bar.

Was she above the half way mark? She did not know. She had not the energy left to turn her head and see how far she had gotten.
The tower had been dark for what already seemed like an eternity. Was it already too late?

Suddenly, her one functional eye was blinded as lightning stuck the tower again. The power rushed down towards her. Past her. Over her.
The very air became electrified, and the whole tower shook.

Sweetie could only use her very last energy to tighten her grip around the tower, before the right back leg failed her.

She did, unsurprisingly, not feel a thing. When her sight returned she noticed that she was still clinging to the tower. She had not even spaced out, as one should do when struck by lightning.
Was this it? Was she recharged now? The idea had been that the energy would enter her upon touching the tower.
But, why did she not feel stronger?

She tried to reposition her back legs, one of which had slid of and was dangling dangerously below her. But found that she could not. The only thing she got fro trying was her neck giving out as it lost power.

Her heavy head fell forward, and leaned against an iron bar. She could now see the ground below her.

Blimey! She was higher up than she had expected.

Underneath her, her tail was standing straight out like a pink bristly bush. Clearly affected by the shock. But her energy readings had not increased. How? How could she not have been recharged from direct exposure to a high powered lighting rod? What prevented the energy from entering her!?

A program appeared in her mind, seeking to answer her question.

-:: Scanning schematics ::-

The answer came to her like a school quiz she just realized she knew the answer to. She had amplified rubber sealings around her circuitry. That isolated her inner parts from outside forces like water, and prevented electricity from getting out. Her tail might have gotten a shock. But that energy was isolated from her inner parts.
The only reason that she had not spaced out like one should do was that … her spasm sequence was deleted.

All to prevent a short circuit. All to allow her to bathe like a normal filly without suffering malfunctions. The time she dropped her exposed foreleg in the bathtub, the time she thought she had found proof that she was no bot, It had just been proof of her superb design. But she had still managed to short circuit herself when she bit through a wire. That's what she needed to do.

Except she could not move. Her back legs dangled uselessly underneath her, and her front legs last motion had been to cling as tight as possible around the tower. There she hung, unable to move her own body, cut off from its sleeping systems, with the lasts bits of energy only serving to power her head. Allowing her to contemplate her final moments. To consider that even if she could move just one of her front legs to her mouth - she was still covered in armor.

Curse the mechanic and his stupid armor! Curse his superior repair protocol.

Her vision was beginning to fade as her one eye started to shut down. Yet in her fury over the evil mechanic, she remembered something he had said.

“You could alternatively recharge just by sticking your tongue in an electrical outlet”.

Her tongue, her mouth, her digestive system. It was the only way to her battery. The only way for energy to enter her body.
With what last ounce of power remained in her skull. She managed to open her jaw. She did not succeed in closing it around the metal bar. But she did manage to stick out her tongue. Just long enough for the pink moisty flesh to extend past her muzzle and into her field of vision. Just long enough for it to make contact with the iron tower.

Just in that moment. Her failing vision registered something moving down there on the ground. Was it an animal? Or a pony? If so, what were they planing on doing to her. Where they gonna stop her dead in her final desperate attempt?

No! NO!

-:: STRANGER DA ...

Then Sweeties world erupted in an ocean of light.

***

Rarity had just bolted out of the cart and into the forest. Not even bothering with her rain coat.

Twilight barely had the time to tell the others what they had seen, and where they were going, before running after Rarity - Else she would loose sight of her.

It was almost impossible to see anything in the dark forest. Twilight estimated it was the dead of night. And the rain constantly got into her eyes. The naked trees providing no protection from the downpour.

But every so frequently a new bolt of lightning struck the tower. And the whole area would light up for a second. That's how she managed to keep sight of Rarity. She would loose her when the light faded and spot her again in the next flash of light. And every time she seemed to have gotten a little bit further ahead. Twilight had no idea how she could move so fast, or how she managed to avoid running into any of the trees. More than a few times Twilight had to divert her path as a flash of lightning revealed she was about to run straight into another tree.

Dr Cardiac's words kept running in her head. About Rarity's fragile mental state. About her desire – not to say obsession - to find Sweetie first. Her belief that she was the only one who could save her sister. And as an extension of that – her paranoid fear of strangers. The belief that everypony else wanted to hurt her sister – to take her away from her.

Twilight had no idea where these thoughts could have come from. But she believed that they must have been what drove Rarity to leave the others without a word. She wanted to get away from them, as much as she wanted to find Sweetie.

Twilight did not want to believe these things about her friend. Then again - there was a lot of things she would never have believed about Rarity, or her family, that had come into light these last few days.

Finally the forest thinned out, and she came out upon a clearing on top of a hill, housing the structure of the stormtower.

Up close, the dark steel structure seemed almost intimidating, with its tall frame disappearing up into the black void of the sky.

Lightning struck the tower again. And this close it was almost blinding. Twilight had to shield her eyes from the lighting cascade, and was still almost blinded. Yellow dots danced in her vision even after the moment had faded. Though, through her haze, she could make out the form of Rarity, having stopped at the base of the ugly concretes barrack that surrounded the bottom of the tower.

Twilight was about to call out to her friend, when the appearance of an unexpected figure made the words get stuck in her throat.
The hazy silhouette of what she could barely make out as pegasus stallion, with the mane of a punk-rocker (due to both his wings and its hair standing out) appeared - standing in the door-frame of the power station.

It struck twilight as a bit odd. Wasn't these stations supposed to be un-ponied during the harvest? For safety reasons?
Regardless - If somepony was working here, maybe they had seen something.

“You!" She called out. "Excuse me sir ... ”

She did not get any further. The figure froze for a second, startled by the two mares, then jumped to the sky.

Rarity screamed, thunder roared again, a new wave of lightning struck the tower, and everypony froze as the area lit up brighter than ever.

A small portion of the tower - close to the top - lit up in an immense ball of light. Twilight didn't have time to properly shield her eyes as the light burned her retinas like she had been looking straight into the sun.

She also did not have time to cover her ears, which was a shame. Because in the very next second, there was an immense bang. Far louder than that of thunder.

Twilight looked up towards the sound, and her hazy eyes just barely managed to see something that looked like a ball of lightning leaving the tower, and flying off further west like a comet.

Also like a comet - It left behind a trail of superheated energy. A tail that smashed into the tower, which exploded in another ball of light.

Twilight's poor eyes were not having a good evening. She had to duck, covering her burning eyes with both hooves to try and save her retinas. And then, a powerful gust of air knocked her down.

Yet she would find no peace to wonder about what had just happened. As a second later, there was a loud metallic groan. Twilight had to forcefully open her eyes to see what was happening. What she saw made her forget the pain and stare in horror.

Above her. The upper half of the tower was leaning out. A huge portion of its central frame was missing, cleaving the tower in two. The last supporting pillars glowed red hot , clearly marking them against the black sky, allowing Twilight to see them melting and giving in to the weight of the steel tower.

With a lout metallic scream, the upper half of the tower was coming down. Down right upon the strange pegasi.

Instinctively - Twilight called upon as much magic as she could muster - It would not be enough to stop the giant mass of steel bars, but she could (perhaps) shield him.

Directing her magic at the sparkling pony, Twilight summoned a magic shield. The purple energy surrounded the figure just as the falling debris came over him.

Twilight felt her magic falter as her tiny shield was hit by tones of steel. The hill shook as the tower hit the ground.

Twilight looked up at the broken pile of metal that used to be a stormtower. Somewhere in there a pony was buried. Had her shield been enough to save his life? Maybe. Her magic had faltered under the pressure. But not given out. Horn still glowing she walked up to the twisted metal. Mentally homing in on the presence of her shield.

The tower had broken apart into nothing more than a pile of jack-straws. Straws of thick iron beams, each one thick enough to crush a ponies head - or impale them. Manny gruesome images flew through Twilight's head when she saw the faint glow of her own magic coming out from underneath the pile of rubble.

"Hello! Are you alive?"

She breathed a sigh of relief when her call was answered by a faint moaning, and something started moving inside the glow.

As Twilight approached the figure, Rarity appeared at her side. Her own horn glowing with an illuminating spell. Allowing them both to properly see the pony in peril. A yellow pegasus with a brown mane and tail. He was dressed in a black rain coat, with his wings sticking out from under the sides. He sparkled, little streaks of lightning running up the length of his frizzled mane, and jumping out into the surrounding bars. Had he been struck by lightning? He sure looked so, with his hair standing on all edges and his twitching muscles. And he had the nastiest black eye.

Twilight took note that even though he looked in bad shape, nothing was bleeding, crushed or bent in a way it shouldn't. Thankfully her magic had not failed her.

But something else went off in her mind. Something about his color scheme triggered a warning signal. Hadn't somepony said something about this kind of pegasi? It was not an unusual color scheme, And she would hate to be prejudiced as there had to be hundreds if not thousands with that color. But still. What were the odds that this was the one they were looking for? And a black eye, where had she heard something about that before?

The stallion moaned again, and opened his undamaged eyelid, A single clean blue looked up at her with a mix of shock and disaffection. As if the two mares above him were the last ponies in the whole world that he wanted to see.

The feeling was mutual for one of them at least, as Rarity stared back down on the pony before her. Her face slowly darkening.

"YOU!" She growled. "What are you doing here!?"

"You know him?" Twilight asked, more than a little surprised at this sudden reunion between relatives.

"Of course I do! Rarity said with a voice like venom. "Our own family doctor, Shockwave. The very fist pony who wanted to kill my sister."

“Little miss Rarity. Please...” Shockwave began.

“Don't call me that!" She screamed. "We trusted you! And you betrayed us!"

"I was only trying to save her! I have always tried to save her.”

“Save her!? You were the one who wanted to pull the plug on her incubator!”

Shockwave lowered his head in shame.

“There was nothing I could do!” He said with earnest regret. “Even with all my abilities I was not able bring her to life. (And heavens shall know I tried stimulating the cellular energy in her brain-stem myself.”

“You can do that?” Twilight asked, a fascinated part of her mind being stimulated by the idea of cell manipulation. But also by that it sounded like magic. And clearly noticing that he was not a unicorn.

When asked. Shockwave smiled.

“I have always been able to manipulate energy. Its my specialty." He let out a dry laugh "Ironically, getting thunder struck was how I learned of my true nature.”

He raised his hoof to the inside of Twilight's barrier. His hoof sparkled and sent out a series of electrical shocks that caused the shied to vibrate. Twilight instinctively reinforced her magic.

”I never forget that day. We where all young, and inexperienced with cloud control. One day we were supposed to herd and discharge some thunderclouds that had gone a little off the beaten path. I learned later that one of the clouds had stolen energy from the others and become unstably overcharged. And let me till you, when we bucked that - the cloud didn’t just discharge - It exploded."

He clapped his electrified hooves together for emphasis.

"One of the colts got hit so bad his body sized up, and he fell. Hit the ground pretty bad. I myself got hit just as bad, but for some reason it didn’t affect me as bad. Quite the contrary – I could feel that the clouds energy transfer to me. I flew down to check on the guy and found out his heart had stopped! From the fall or from the shock I couldn't say.
But I had the lightning of the clouds running between my hooves. So I brought them down on his chest and transferred it to him. With a spark from my hooves the colts heart started beating, and he was alive again. I realized that day, that Celestia had granted me this power to save life! To give life! And that was how i earned my mark!”

He pulled the black cape away from his flank. Allowing Twilight to see that his mark was that of two circles with a lightning bolt in between. One circle had a plus sign, the other had a minus sign.

"From that point I decided to become a doctor. A life saver." Shockwave continued.“But I could do nothing to save your little sister. She was about to become the first patient I had ever lost. If not that mare had shown up.“

“Mare? What mare?”

“Neurosa” Both Shockwave and Rarity mumbled. Then exchanged a look at the involuntary unison.

“She said she had something that could revolutionize neurobiology.” Shockwave continued “And as a doctor I jumped at the chance. Not just for the sake of my patient – but for the chance to expand the field of medical research.”

“He was one of the first to join our little team of mad scientists” Rarity remarked.

Shockwave nodded.

“They needed me to preform the necessary surgery. And before you ask, you should know that I am a certified brain surgeon. And I have transplanted many organs in my life before that day. If not, I would never have done the implants.”

The implants, Twilight though, Remembering Rarity's part of the story in combination with the strange blue disks.

“What did you put into her?” She asked.

“Something that was supposed to enhance. But in reality, It absorbs.” He said, something in his voice turning venomous. The others could say what they wanted about their storage devices and how 'it was only data'. But I sensed it. I sensed what little neuro energy remained in the underdeveloped body transfer to the implants. Regardless what the others said about their readings, and how "It was only electricity" Nopony had spent more time inside that foal then I. Nopony had a feel for her body like I."

He sighed.

“And it was then I realized that I had gone too far. Only when it was to late did I realize the error of my ways. So I vowed to destroy my research , and everything I had created."

"You burned the lab down!" Rarity growled.

“Too far? But didn't it work?” Twilight asked. Basing this assumption on the fact that Sweetie was alive and well last time she saw her. Though how exactly she was alive botched her mind. She had begun to think more and more about Sweetie's mechanical shell as some from of mobile life support system.

"It did. Alas, I believe I succeeded a little too well. For my methods did not just allow for the transferring of organs. But also of the soul."

“You doubt me of course.” He finished, as he obviously saw Twilight's wrinkle her eyebrows.

“I doubt any doctor worthy of the medical code would call bringing their patient back to life as 'going too far'”. She answered.

"And it was my code that kept me going, even as our experiments became more and more perverse. When it stopped being about saving a life – And became about making one."

"Making one?"

"For you see - we did not save that little foal. She was never alive. How can you revive what has no life? Not that that stopped us from trying. A mistake I realize now. We should have just let her pass on."

Rarity growled.

"But … I thought she was alive" Twilight stammered. "How can you say you trapped her brain energy's if she was not...”

“Let me answer your question with a question.” Shockwave aborted her. “Do you believe in the soul?”

Twilight's jaw was left hanging open. How was she supposed to answer that?

“Mind and body are not the same thing.” He said “With technology we can keep a heart beating for eternity. But what does that say for the soul inside? When does the struggle to sustain life go too far? when do you end up dooming your patient to an existence of suffering?”

He ended up looking distant as he said it.

Beside Twilight, Rarity gritted her teeth.

“What are you talking about?”

Shockwave looked back up at Twilight.

"This heart. Lets say we have cut it out of a donor to transplant into another pony. Lets say we have magically grown it ourselves in a lab. Either way it has cells. The cells hold energy, like every living tissue its alive. It might not have a mind of its own. But do you believe that there it has a soul?”

Again. Twilight was left without response.

"Because I can tell you for a fact that - there is! This life energy exists even in that that has not lived. Strange is it not? Why would the body not reject something that has never known life? For how can something that has never lived know what life is? What is a soul that is trapped in an artificially grown heart without a body? As inexperienced about life as a stillborn foal, I tell you that!"

"STOP IT!" Rarity screamed and started beating at Shockwave. Only Twilight's shield prevented her strikes from reaching the doctor.

“Please Rarity, Calm yourself.”

Twilight physically put her hoof around her friend in order to calm her down. She then turned back to Shockwave. Her curiosity not satisfied.

“Please continue. Are you saying that any living tissue has a soul of its own?“

Shockwave smiled.

"Just like There is life in everything, because there is energy in everything. Ponies, animals, monsters, insects, plants, trees, flowers, the very grass we walk on, the very wheat we eat. What is this energy if not the soul? And what happens when we hack it to pieces? What if we cut of the organs from each other - any other living organ really - Do they not have a soul inside them? Is each removed organ not a container for a little bit of soul. And does not that soul scream out for becoming whole?"

"You can stitch a body together, and it will heal. But can you stitch the soul together? Can you stitch a piece of life essence together with another soul? With another body? Will they merge? Or reject each other? The body can heal. But an the soul? Does the soul not scream when you cut it apart? Does it not dream about becoming whole again?"

Twilight was shocked. What this guy was saying sounded like Frankenpony. Did all pegasi have their heads stuck in the clouds?

”You might think me mad.” He said ”But I have even experienced that certain personality traits - and even whole talents - have transferred from one pony to another. So don't you tell me that even the smallest piece of meat can not contain essence. Even that which has not lived can contain essence.”

”Like Sweetie's body?”

Shockwave nodded.

"Where are you getting with this?"

”DON'T LISTEN TO HIM TWILIGHT!” Rarity shouted as she continued to beat on the bubble.

Shockwave continued, undisturbed by her wailing.

”I'm getting at – That we transferred a soul into a steel body. And I dread how it must have hurt! Oh how she must have cried in anguish as we slowly tore her apart! Do you not think the soul suffers as we speak?

"NO. SHE NEVER SUFFERED! SHE NEVER SAID SHE FELT ANYTHING!"

"That's only because we turned off all the pain! Shockwave argued back. Somehow being heard without raising his voice. ”We designed her electronic nerve system. We chose what it would and would not register! Its no different from taking pain killers - The illness is still there - you have just hidden it.

"STOP!"

"I know, I know my child, Its hard to let go. " He said, as if trying to comfort her "But you must at some point."

"NO! YOU ARE LYING! SHE HAS NEVER BEEN IN PAIN."

“How can you say that? You who played hoof-slap with a corpse!”

Rarity froze, and looked like she just choked on something. Even with the rain splashing on her face, Twilight could tell she was crying.

Twilight herself had heard enough. She added a cone of silence to the barrier. And anxiously Started scanning the bottom of the hill. Where had the others gone? A wagon wasn't exactly easy to maneuver through the threes. But they should have arrived by now. She did not want to have to deal with this crazy pony on her own.

No sooner had she finished the thought before she saw movement in the woods below her. The sound of heavy hooves echoed as they approached.

Way too many – way too heavy hooves.

A pair of red, glowing eyes appeared in the darkness, followed by dozens more. Gleaming wet steel sparkled in the lightning above as the heavily armored ponies formed a row in front of Twilight.

Except they weren’t ponies. Twilight had seen enough of the leftovers in the bunker to know that she was now staring straight into the electronic red eyes of machine stallions.

From behind the row of tin soldiers, A wagon appeared. One bearing the signature traits of a 'Wheely's-Western-Wagon-Warehouse' carts for rent. It was pulled by a big blue unicorn, who just smiled deviously as they approached.

Out of the wagon stepped a green stallion, dressed up like he was dressed up to be the mascot of some science fare, with what looked like three control panels strapped to this torso, a big radio on his back, and a silly looking tin hat on his head.

To him clung an overly interested yellow mare with a wavy white mane. Rarity gasped at the appearance of these strangers as if her worst nightmare had come to haunt her.

The row of Steel Stallions separated as the green stallion approached. And when he spoke, it was a single, hard question.

“Where is she?”

“Who?” Twilight answered, not liking the threatening tone in this guys voice.

“Don't play coy with me!” He roared. I know she was here. She had to be! Otherwise you would not have been in such a hurry to leave us – would you Shockwave?”

Shockwave diverted his eyes, non the happy to see his comrades.

“Don't make me repeat myself” Muttered the Green one. His anger now directed at the pegasi.

“He cant answer you.” Twilight said. “My magic is blocking all sound.”

The attention turned back to Twilight.

“Oh, then I guess you will answer me. Where is she”

"Who?" Said Twilight "You are going to have to be a little more specific then that?"

"Don't play coy with me." The green stallion growled and stroked his beard. "You can't pretend like we are not looking for the same thing. Not while she is in your company."

He pointed a hoof at Rarity.

"How have you been you little thief? Are you finally done playing with my creation?"

"Leave her out of this!" Twilight yelled as the light from her horn intensified.

“Not until you tell me where you have hidden her!”

He pressed a button on his keypad, and small ports simultaneously opened on the sides of all the mechanical stallions. And out came a short lance, that telescopicly stretched out into a long lance, That all started sparkling with power.
Twilight gasped in shock, less at the danger and more at the implications. She had seen what power those things caused down in the hidden bunker. Was this pony really willing to go this far?

She instantly took a defensive stance, a number of defensive spells were lining up in her mind.

Shockwave must have sensed Twilight's distraction. From under his coat he pulled a little round device. A crystal ball. His hoof sparkled with energy and the little crystal ball lit up. Instantly Twilight's magical barrier disappeared. The purple energy being sucked down into that little ball, along with the glow of her horn.

Twilight's knees gave out under her, and she fell to the ground. Her forehooves grabbing her cranium. Her brain felt like it was on fire. Her horn even more so. Her whole head felt like it was vibrating as every fiber of her being recoiled in fear as her magic was being sucked out through her horn.

Beside her, Rarity collapsed as well, anguishing in the same pain. Yet none of them had the strengths to even scream. All she could do was lie in the wet cold grass and hold onto their heads like they tried to prevent their brains from being pushed out their ears. They were being drained. How? What kind of magic was this? What kind of orb was that?

A flash of lightning rolled over the heavens, and the small ball glimmered in the unnatural blue light of an unnatural crystal.

Shockwave undid himself from the wreckage, and walked up to the two mares. He leaned down, and said - with all the warmth a father might have.

"I apologize about this my children. But I can not allow you to interrupt my work."

He looked over at Rarity.

"I pray you'll be able to understand one day."

Rarity answered him only with a murderous look. Shockwave was about to say something more, but was cut short as a wave of lightning cut past him and scorched the wall behind them. A lightning bolt that had not came from the sky, but from one of the Steel Stallion's spears.

"You are trying my patience!" Roared the green one "Are you gonna tell me where she is, or is this gonna have to get ugly?

The rest of the lances crackled, and more deadly beams cut right above their heads. Twilight flinch as they were left totally exposed to these mad ponies and their dangerous toys.

Shockwave might have been about to leave them. But instead of jumping into the air he ran towards the hit-squad, Screaming at the full force of his throat.

"HARM NOT THE INNOCENT!"

"Get out of the way." The green pony muttered "these ponies have to answer for their crimes against the equestrian future."

"They will answer to no pony but Celestia" Shockwave stated, rising to his back legs and throwing out his forelegs as to protect the two mares with his body. "Besides, they can tell you nothing. I'm the only one who knows where she is."

"Oh really? Then maybe you should just tell me"

Shockwaves eyes widened as the Steel Stallions turned to aim at him, and him alone.

"Where. Is. She?!" The green earth pony roared.

The lances on the Steel stallions started to hum, charging up with energy. Shockwave hesitated for a moment, then decided that his fate was not to come just yet.

"West." He said in defeat. "She flew west."

Even through her pain, Twilight could not help but overhear. Flew? How could Sweetie have flown? And when did this pegasi see her fly? How could he see anything in the dark when they had not seen anything...

Then it hit her. The tower. The lightning bolt...

No. That could just not have been Sweetie.

Even the green tormentor seemed shocked at this news.

"West." He mumbled as he stroke his beard. "Home of my old rival."

Determination returned to his face as he ordered his Steel Stallions to move out.

"Very well. This crusade shall begin with the fall of my oldest enemy!"

The back rows of steel stallions started matching of, Twilight watched them disappear behind the slope of the hill.

Then she caught an unexpected motion in the corner of her eyes. Mustering just enough strength to turn her head, she saw that Rarity was getting up. Slowly, but steadily she rose. Her face twisted in a horrible grimace as pain and persistence fought with each other. Her teeth clenched so tight together Twilight thought they might shatter. Either the ball did not have the same effect on her, possibly because of her not having as strong of magic as Twilight - Or she had a unbelievable strength of will. For despite the pain she must be suffering, she rose, even as her eyes turned bloodshott from the struggle.

As the Two stallions continued to argue with each other, she started moving towards Shockwave. She picked up the ball of agony in one hoof, and charged her tormentor.

"YOU WILL NOT LAY A SINGLE HOOF ON MY SISTER!"

She threw the ball - Missing Shockwave by an inch, and striking the Steel Stallion in front of him.

A large wave of lightning shot out from the ball and washed over the the Machine pony as they made contact. The robot instantly started to spaz out, something inside the metal stallion malfunctioned. And it collapsed as the energy that crackled in its deadly energy weapons was sucked into the crystal ball.

Shockwave reacted and tried to leap into the sky. But before he could take off, Rarity was on him. She wrestled him to the ground, like a bloodhound downing its prey. There was a loud 'snap', and Shockwave screamed.

He managed to shake off the mare, and Twilight could see that one of his wings now hung limp at his side, the joint poking up of the shoulder in a most unnatural way.

In the same moment, Twilight felt the pain in her horn ease up.

More of the metallic stallions started to malfunction, as the ball rolled past them down the hill. The green pony cursed and started pressing buttons. But in the next moment Twilight had levitated and thrown one of the thicker, supportive steel bars into their ranks, striking down several of the machines.

Sensing that they were becoming outmatched by the powerful magician, the others were convinced to leave. The blue stallion had already started pulling the wagon away from the battle. And the other three were note late to board the ride out of here as they and the rest of the metallic warriors started galloping down the hill.

Twilight tried to use her magic. But her horn would no longer comply. She only managed to worsen her already burning migraine.

Rarity on the other hoof, chased after them, She picked up the magic draining ball again. She screamed as it zapped her and no doubt started draining her again. Yet she still managed to throw the thing, by hoof, at the wagon, somehow managing to hitting the back window, shattering it. There was another loud "zap" from inside the carriage - Followed by another set of screams as the wagon disappeared down the slope.

Twilight dropped to her knees, shivering and panting. Her whole body felt like she was recovering from disease. she tried to get her migraine under control by letting the cold rain washed over her overheated head.

She managed to crawl to Rarity, Who was sitting on the rainy slope, both of them were exhausted from the painful experience.
The fashionista looked like she was suffering from shell shock, as she wobbled back and forth mumbling to herself.

Twilight could not help to feel ashamed over herself and how she had acted. Was Dr Cardiac right about her? Had she not sacrificed her own friends safety for her own curiosity? Had she not failed her when she needed help the most?

As she got closer, Twilight begun to make out the words of Rarity's lament.

“She was not suffering ... She was fine ... She was fine ... She was fine ... She's fine ... She's fine ... She's fine ...”

Rarity's look grew distant, and the tone in her demeanor slowly changed. A smile was slowly spreading across her lips.

" ... You're fine ... You're fine ... You are fine Sweetie ... You are fine sister ... Look ... We are the same ... "

Twilight watched in horror as her friend seemed to slip from reality. She stopped hugging herself and straightened up, gesturing in the air in front of her. Then Rarity started to play “clap your hooves" with nothing but the air. And it was extra scary that she did it with better insight than a mime.

***

She was in a dark, small room. The walls clad in nothing but metal, and the only furniture was the hard bed on which she slept. She had been dreaming the same thing she always dreamed. The same dream she had been having for months. That her little sister would wake up and play with her. It was a dream that the grown-ups said might never come true. But Rarity was a dreamer. And if she just winched hard enough, then she just might be able to make her dream come true.

And, low and behold, It seemed to have worked. For when she awoke, there she was. A sweet little filly, not much bigger than a foal, with the whitest sugar coated fur and a lovely, swirly pink mane ant tail. Her very presence seemed to illuminate the darkness of the room. as she sat there next to her, carefully observing every move of the silly little hoof clapping game that her big sister was about to teach her.

When she mimicked the movements, it started out a little clumsy. But she quickly learned to keep the tempo with Rarity. Almost better than Rarity in fact. As she was almost mechanical in her moves.

They sat there in the bed, playing together like time did not matter, humming along together on a silly little song that Rarity had made up for the game. Or rather - Rarity was humming, as her little sister did not seem able to speak.

Regardless, it was fun. Despite the wet squelch the accompanied every hoof-clapp.

What was even making that noise? Had one of them wet the bed?

She looked down, and saw that her hooves were bloody. She looked back up, and saw that it was Sweetie who was bleeding. Blood poured down her legs from open cuts in her body, cuts from which plastic tubes and wires were hanging, dripping some other yellow liquid all over her naked skin. The white nice fur was yellowing and falling apart, the pink curly mane had fallen off till only straws remained. In fact, her entire chest was split open. Yellowing ribs clenching around an exposed mix of flesh and steel, wires intertwined with nerves.

In the dark center, something red as shining. Little Rarity raised her hoof to try and touch that light. But she was stopped as another hoof met hers.

'Squelch'

She looked back up. And saw Sweetie looking at her with empty black eye-holes. From the depths of those holes, a faint green light was shining. Shining right at her, as they seemed to swallow her as they looked at her.

And still, she continued her almost silent humming to Rarity's song. But it wasn't a humming. Not from the mouth, as it was clenched shut in a thinning smile. But from the body, as it hummed with the vibration of spinning servos. And the sound was picking up speed. Sweetie started clapping the rhythm faster, faster, until Rarity wasn't able to keep up.

The blood was now splashing up into Rarity's face, into her mouth, into her eyes.
And yet she smiled. If it could be called a smile, with the skin, and lips so loosely hanging on.

"Sweetie, Please. stop!"

She stopped. And so did the smile. Her yaw fell open. And out from that black maw came a scream. An unearthly, metallic scream. An electronic static of a hundred broken radios.

The tiny room started to vibrate to that sound. The walls fell away, the bed disappeared, and little Rarity thought her head would explode.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the little room any more. She was in the Carousel Boutique, in Sweetie's room. Sweetie was older now, Sweetie was fine now. Her fur as white as sugar and her mane pink like cotton candy. Yet - she was screaming. An unnatural scream that ponies should not be able to produce. Her leg was damaged, a metallic hoof sticking out from the fur, and a small wire stuck between her teeth.

Sweetie screamed and danced around. And all Rarity could do was stare. Stare as a sentence that she had long ago written of as impossibility echoed back from the past.

Does it hurt to be a robot?

Sweetie stopped dancing. She fell, and remained lying in a heap on the floor.

Rarity tried to press a word out from her lips

"S... Sweetie?"

Sweetie opened her eyes, and rose. Her whole body jerking and twitching, yet somehow she managed to rise to her hooves.
She looked at her, with the most expression-less face. Then the face started twitching.

And then she screamed.

"RrrAAaaaRrrrrriiiiitt-T-T-T-T-yyYYyyyy!!!"

And she jumped.

And ... and ...

***

“Sweetie.... Oh Sweetie.... I'm so sorry.”

Rarity broke down and cried in Twilight's lap.

“Its my fault.” She sobbed. ”Its all my fault. I saw the warning signs. But I ignored them. I did not want to believe them! I never asked her what the problem was because I dreaded the answer. And then... then she came all out with it. All at once! She screamed and accused me of things. And then. Oh Celestia. She tried to pull herself apart! And I JUST STOOD THERE!”

She screamed and beat the muddy ground beneath her so that dirt splashed across her face.

“I could not believe what I was seeing. Did not want to believe it! And I was so scared! I should have rushed over to hug her, embrace her, comforted her, tell her everything was going to be all right. But I was to scared! And ... Then she must have short-circuited herself. She completely freaked out! And she threw herself at me. And I... And I... Oh Celestia.... I hit her... “

Rarity's voice trailed off and she sank down into the puddle she was sitting in. Tears mixed with the mud on her face.
Twilight put both hooves around her and hugged her as tight as she could.

Cardiac and the others arrived a moment later.

“Where were you?” Twilight yelled at them. She could not help herself but to be angry. They should have gotten here long ago. It did not take that long to cross the forest.

“Being held at gunpoint.” Brick answered.

Another flash of lightning revealed he was still dragging the wagon.

“It's true.” Said Sully. “Big armored ponies appeared from the woods and blocked our way.”

“Looked an awfully lot like the tin cans we found in the bombshelter.” Said Brick.

Cardiac nodded in agreement.
Beside him. Screwloose was hurled up tight. She was the only one in the group that looked more like a nervous wreck than Rarity.
The mad mare was was absolutely shivering. Her eyes wide with fear as she stared as the tower. With every flash she shivered together even more, closing her eyes and ears as tight as possible, and whimpered.

Apparently the mare was scared to death of lightning.

Luckily for her, the lightning-storm soon faded away. But Twilight had a feeling like their personal storm was just beginning.
She continued to pet Rarity as she stared of into the dark horizon to the west. The blue disks heavy in her backpack, and the words of the mad doctor heavy on her mind.

Something that was supposed to enhance. But in reality, it absorbs.

***

Many miles away. A small system was rebooting from a massive overload.

-:: Battery fully charged ::-

Author's Note

The vacation is over and I'm back with a bang.
... Literally.

Chapter 17. Ghost in the Shell

-:: Reboot in progress::-
-:: Loading last memory file ::-
-:: Memory file on standby // Playback paused ::-
-:: Resuming Playback ::-

Sweetie awoke to a small room. A room that was lit up so bright that the light reflecting off the metal walls made the space seem as white as a clinic.

Sweetie could barely recall something about light. One of the last things she could remember was her whole world erupting in an ocean of light. And the sad part was that it was not the first time her world had exploded. Nor the first time she had overloaded, by integrating with dangerous electrical devices.

She could not remember, only suspect that what had happened. That had her ears been functional, she would have heard the roll of thunder. Had she been able to look up, she would have seen the lightning cascade coming. And she could conclude that the energy of the sky did enter her body, in the most violent way possible.

However. The power of a lightning bolt (or a dozen) was far more than her battery was made to handle. And as the power overflowed her, every circuit and every system became instantly overcharged. Thus, there was no clear memory file of what past the point on the overload. All she knew was that one moment she was clinging on to a tower for dear life. Next was only a hazy conception that she was flying through the air. And the notes of a massive discharge, that could only have come from her shoulder mounted energy canons.

It made sense. All this extra energy needed somewhere to go. And following with her last conscious thought, her self made subroutine sent the blasters working overtime. Without any functional backblast, their recoil could only have added to the force by which she was thrown off the tower.

Her last conscious thought ... there had been someone, somepony, something moving in the corner of her fading vision.

Now. There was somepony standing straight in front of her. A pair of blue, honest eyes looked straight into hers. They belonged to a yellow pegasus stallion in a tight doctors coat, as clean and clinically white as the room.

He pulled his hoof through his sleek brown mane in perfect unison with Sweetie, as she performed the same motion.
Except, it was not her hair. It could not be. Her black metal scalp did not have a single strand last time she checked. Nor could it be her hoof, there was way too much skin on it.

(She was stuck in this dream like state - In the back of her mind. She could still hear the start up sequence as the rest of her body rebooted)

The stallion started speaking
"We have been discussing the science behind an artificial soul for some time. But I thought I should share my own thoughts on the matter, individually... Alone"

He rubbed his template.

"'Cheese's'. It still feels so wrong to talk to oneself like this." He sighed "Anyhow, It seems as our research has led to more than just a way to enhance brain activity. After watching that little foal's mind being absorbed into the crystal, the rest of us started wondering about its potential for storage. What if these things can not just enhance brain patterns - but store them as well?

The others have brought up the idea of capturing the entire electronic symphony of a mind inside a crystal. But even if we were able to do such a thing - which I doubt - we would not even have any volunteers. And we can't steal ponies to experiment on. What does that say about the mind? About the soul?

Would the copied electric symphony inside not be merely a copy of the mind it was adapted from? And would not that mind remember its time inside a living body of blood and flesh? How would the mind react if it was stripped of its body, to loose all senses and ways of which to interact with the world around it. Why, I think it would go mad.

But... what if we had a mind that did not know what it was like to live yet? Such an undeveloped mind would really not be losing anything.
So, would it not be much more prone to adapting into its new being? Can it even be called adapting, if it has no previous experiences to compare its current being to?

Luckily, the family that I have been working with for years has provided us with just such a mind. Something we did not dare to dream of. A blank mind. A blank soul. A soul that has not experienced the world through a body of flesh and blood. A soul that had not lived.”

He chuckled to himself.

“I now understand the necessity of secrecy, and why this research is so controversial. No one would ever give up the soul of her unborn fetus!”

"Though ... I do not think it ..."

He let out a long and troubled sigh.

"... I should not speak badly of Doctor Neurosa. But I sometimes get a bad feeling from her. I get the sense that she would have been willing to go out and steal a fetus, to run these experiments of hers. Sometimes, she seems to show more affection for our patient than her own family. And I don't know if it is for the sake of medical research, or if she has something else in mind … Sigh. Can it even be called that any more? It seems more like Necromancy each day. Not helped by that the fool Necro, who keeps calling it that.”

"As for me. I did what I did to save the soul of my patient. But ... have I really done just that that? Have I preserved a soul by tearing it out of its sickly inefficient shell?"

"I checked, and the electronic readings inside the device are identical to the neurological pattern that remained inside the filly's brain-substance. Not only that, but the electric frequencies inside are actually increasing. A bit strange, since, when Neurosa approatched me with her idea, I thought that it was the organic brain cell's activity that was supposed to be increased. Not the implant itself. Most worrying however, was that the neuron signals in the rest of the brain seems to be... slowing down as the implant's efficiency were growing.

He scratched himself even harder, and looked even more worried.

"Cheese - I'm a doctor, I'm suppose to save life. Yet here I am wondering if we have really done just that? Or has in fact, that little foal died? Have we really managed to capture the filly's brain pattern? Or have we just made a copy out of it? Do we just have a copy of life?"

He looked up into the mirror.

"A copy of the template of life? A digitalised, essence? An artificial version of the bare essentials of what makes a pony tick?
Then – are we no longer saving a life, but creating something new? Can one create an artificial soul?
And what happens when that blank template starts to grow into its own being?"

He stared deep into the reflection of his own eyes.

"I want to believe that I can save this patient. Even if the methods are unorthodox. And if that energy inside that device really contains the filly's brain patterns, then why not also the soul?"

He rubbed his template again, and his wings fluttered nervously.

"I always believed that there is a soul in all living things, and if this thing truly can come alive. Then, will it not to have a soul?. But will it be a copy of a soul? Cheese - I used to believe that every soul was unique to every creature. But if it grows up into an altered creature, then will the soul not also be altered? And ... if so... will it be a different kind of soul from what we are used to? If it needs an entirely new definition, is it even a soul anymore?"

"For if you create something entirely new, what then are we gonna compare it to?"

"And can a crystal really contain it?"

A sound of a hoof knocking on metal broke up the discussion that the stallion was having with himself. He turned away from the mirror and faced a metal door without window or doorhandle. As small sense of deja vu tingled in the back of Sweetie's head as the stallion pressed a hoof-dial that sat next to the doorframe, and the iron door sunk away into the floor.

Outside, stood a jet black stallion. A horn was barely visible underneath his long mane that shone with such a vibrant red color that it seemed to light up the gray metallic corridor all on its own. The only thing that seemed to shine brighter than his hair was the fiery red color in his eyes.

"Hello Necro. I was just talking about you."

The black stallion stuck his head inside the doorframe, and looked around.

“Talking to yourself then, I see, Shockwave " He commented. "Never took you for a vanity type."

Then a big smile spread across his black lips, as if he just figured out where the candy was hidden.

"I get it. Recording another visual log are you?”

The pegasi guiltily scratched the back of his head, causing another wave of static to temporarily distort the memory.

"It still feels strange doing this." He said "But it saves us hours of work trying to type it all down with these hoof dials."

He gestured to the button on the door, then to a strange looking typewriter standing on his desk. It looked more advanced than your regular typewriter in that it had two hoof dials as the only buttons for it keyboard, and instead of a piece of paper there was a small monitor screen sticking up from the top.

"I swear I am never gonna learn that trick of dialing. I guess that for earth ponies it comes naturally to use their hooves, and you unicorns can use your telekinesis to turn the buttons. But we pegasi tend to favor our wings."

As to demonstrate. He picked up a notepad in one wing, and then held it in front of him, between the feathers. Reading it while walking on all fours as he exited out into the corridor, the door automatically sliding back up behind him.

"Using these dials just adds hours to an already long report."

"And it adds many hours again trying to code our data so that only we can read it." Necro laughed "I swear that mare comes up with a new secrecy contingency plan every other day. If you ask me, is getting more paranoid by every third day."

"Which is why we are not supposed to talk." Said the pegasi "But anyway, what is on your mind that is so important that you decided to see me?"

Necro smiled a wicked smile.

"lets call it an offer of adjudicant understanding. Because its come to my attention that you have "concerns" about the motivations in our little group."

The feathers in the pegasus wings tensed. But his face remained calm.

"Its true" He said. "sometimes I don't understand what is going on in their heads."

Necro laughed.

"Actually, I came to offer you an opportunity, for I think I have just the way to get inside their heads."

The pegasi's ears perked.

"How?"

Necro waved his hoof in front of him.

"Ah ah ah... In private."

The pegasi coughed assenting, then reached up to scratch the back of his head again. And this time, the vision hazed out completely, until only static remained.

***

Sweetie recoiled in fear and disgust to what she had heard. The words "necromancy" and "death of a foal" danced in her increasingly clearing mind. (the few bits and pieces that stayed with her as she awoke from the dream-haze).
Was her worst theories confirmed? did her mind really come from another foal? And had that foal died and they ripped the soul from her? It sure sounded like it. And what was all that about foal-napping? Who would willingly give up their life for the sake of some twisted research?

These questions would have to wait, for as Sweetie reactivated her eyes, they gave way to another anxiety.

-:: Where am I? ::-

She found herself staring up into a leafless tree. The branches piercing the dark heaven like spears.

Was she lying under a tree? No. The branches were way too close. She was right in the middle of this thorny crown. And she was not lying down. The spirit-leveler in her balance system told her she was hanging upright. Her legs were dangling underneath her. She tried to orient herself. But found she could not move her head. Her entire body was hanging limp from the neck and down.

-:: Obstruction detected // Neck tendons unresponsive // Feeding tube damaged // Voicebox damaged // Repair systems halted // ERROR// Obstruction detected // Foreign object detected ::-

Sweetie raised her hoof towards her throat to see what was the matter. But her hoof was stopped a few inches away from its goal by something she could not see. Something that prevented her from tilting her head. She raised her other hoof and started feeling around the obstruction. Trying to paint a mental image of the object. And it was not a pretty image. The object was round and long, extending from her throat and outwards - far past her reaching point - In towards what was the center of this tree.

Her heart beat would have raised to what all this information added up to. Add to it that Her armor only covered her body and limbs- not the head. Leaving her throat exposed. Combined with the last elevated place she had been on. And an overload that sent her flying through the air. And that she was now in the middle of a naked tree crown full of sharp looking branches.

-:: Conclusion: A branch had pierced her throat, and she was now hanging by her head from a tree ::-

And that branch went in far, judging from that her repair system was tying to smooth up damage caused to the INSIDE of her neck vertebrae.

This should also be very, very fatal to ponies. She should have been choking, wheezing for air and/or gurgling on her own body fluids. Unthinkingly she tried to speak. But her voice was gone. In its place was a only a choked Static followed by a spark as the broken circuits burned themselves out from even trying.

Sweetie did not want to have a fatal damage done to her. Even less she wanted to be hanging from a tree, by the branch piercing her throat. She began to kick her back legs, sending herself swinging trying to free herself.

A voice in her head tried to tell her to calm down - that she had already drowned once and come out fine. But she did not listen. the fear for her voice made her swing even harder as she started to pull the branch to get it out of her. The piece of wood started creaking as she started to swing up and down.

Suddenly there was a 'snap', and she was falling.

Sweetie tried to grab onto something. But her armored body smashed through every branch she hit, and she landed with a hard 'thud' on the muddy ground.

***

Sweetie slowly but steadily pulled the last of the branch out of her throat. Then she threw that fork of a bough as far away as she could. Which was further than she could see. The stick flew up and up until it disappeared into the dark heaven. Her strength was back, and all the systems were charged to the max.

What was not back however, was her voice...

All she had was a sparkling crackle. Sweetie immediately sent all restorative energy she could to her voicebox. She even reactivated her airpump for added effect. As if pumping oxygen through her throat would help.

She coughed - And a black cloud expelled from her mouth. It was followed not by the dry gurgle as a pony typically produces when they have something stuck up their throats, but a crackling, buzzing sound as there would be from a radio stuck between radio stations. Sweetie checked her voicebox, trying to dial her voice back as she just kept making that static sound.

-:: Anxiety levels rising ::-

Sweetie coughed a few more times. Hoping to blow out the soot that must be interfering with her voice module. The frequency of the static changed to a whistle as the repair program kept rebuilding the tiny transistors as best they could. Eventually the whistle turned into a high pinched shriek, like some leaking steam whistle on helium.

-:: What? What is happening to my voice? Where is my voice?! ::-

She kept trying as the last available components nicked themselves together. And she was finally starting to get words out of her mouth.

But what came out - was not her voice. It was some kind of wheezy crackly little squeak mixed with static. It sounded almost like one of those throat cancer victims that had to put a vibrator to their neck in order to speak. It sounded metallic. It sounded ... It sounded ...

-:: Robotic ::-

No ... NO!

She double checked and triple checked her sound files. The data kept flowing through the component like it always had. But she just could not her it to sound like herself. The sound quality would simply not improve.

Sweetie immediately sent all restorative energy she could to her voicebox. She traveled through the component, herself and pulled energy from every magical restoration crystal she could find. But it did not help. She re-calibrated her voice box a thousand times, even tried a few different sound files from memory. But the best she could manage was to give herself a slightly squeaky robotic voice.

Her voicebox remained imperfect.

-:: Why? ::-

Maybe there was still a piece of wood inside her - messing with the systems.

She grabbed at the throat. But the hole that had been in her throat was gone.

WHY? Why could her neck tendons and vertebrae be restored but not her voice?

She mentally traveled into her voicebox and checked every circuit. What she found - did not match up with any of her prior 'inner journeys'.

While every available wire had been restored, some of them simply ended into nothingness. Her restorative energy had to travel through those wires. And if they were not connected to anything anymore, then ... then the component, whatever it might be, could not be restored.

What had happened to these components? A few theories appeared in her mind.

The components in her sensitive little voice box were damaged by lightning. Some of the circuitry had melted away and some components might be missing altogether.

-:: THEN JUST MAKE SOME NEW ONES ::-

-:: ERROR // Unable to comply // ERROR ::-

-:: Frustration levels rising ::-
-:: Anger levels rising ::-
-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Why? why? why? You stupid restoration system. What good was it if it could not recreate the missing pieces at the end of the wires!? Why could the repair magic not repair this?

-:: Schematics unavailable ::-

It was true. Nowhere in her mind could she find any schematics for a voicebox. The blueprints she had taken from the mechanic was all about various stages on his Steel Stallions, and those mechanical warriors did not need to talk.

The thought of the mechanic made her angry. Had he done something to her voice? Had he deleted something?

-:: Negative // He had touched many things // But not her voice // She remembered having been able to speak and shout at him. And her voice sounded fine just then ::-

-:: THEN WHY!? ::-

She started clawing, pulling and pressing at her throat, to somehow make it sound normal again. But nothing worked. Regardless how she tried. She even tried to preposition her tongue to change the sound.

-:: Tongue not detected ::-

Sweetie froze. Another dreaded realization washed over her like a bucket of ice.
Very slowly she journeyed into her throat, and she followed the systems up into her mouth.

She came to a halt at a guiding stick. A guiding stick that had once connected a flurry of nerves from a moistly sponge like organ to her taste sensors were now simply waving uselessly in her empty palate. The regenerative crystals that had once healed the insides of her cheeks every time she would bite herself now lied as dormant as the empty nerve ports.

If not her fainting sequence had been deleted from her BP, She would very well have rolled over and done just that as she realized that, If her ability to taste had also been deleted, the last thing her tongue would have tasted would be the metal from the bar of a wet lightning rod. A tower that had been struck by lightning. Lightning that contained untold volts. Enough to burn a pony to a crisp.

Or at least - scorch a part of them.

Then, she realized what that black soot she had been spitting out was.

...

Every animal that had gone into hibernation by this time of year would get a premature awakening as Sweetie rose her head to the heavens and let out the highest metal pinched shriek that her broken voicebox could allow.

“WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?"

The shriek filled the woods with all the intensity a siren. A breathless cry that went on and on until the transistors in her imperfect voicebox burst from the abuse. And even then Sweetie continued to wail until her restoration program had fixed up the damaged well enough for her words to be heard again.

But by that time she was no longer screaming at the heavens. She had started trowing a tantrum to end all tantrums. Kicking and beating wildly around her. Picking up rocks and dirt and flinging them away into the poor trees with such force that the debris buried itself deep into the bark. Then taking out all the emotions on the defenseless woods. Punching so hard into the stems that she left holes after her metal hooves. Bucking them so hard that they were either uprooted or snapped in half.
Anything to make a dent in this horrid wretched world.

All the while she cried out to the heavens.

"Why must all the worlds misfortune happen to me!? Why does the world hate me! WHY? Why do you hate me world!?”

She finally turned to the tree of all her misfortunes. She had broken of many branched on her way out of its spear like crown. But it was not enough. Her blasters furiously popped out of her side ports as she zeroed in on the tree. A tree that was stupid enough to remain silent to her questions.

“I hate you too, world!”

With those words, Sweetie let her blasters fire a continuous beam that burned the tree from root to top. The stem exploded and sent smoldering branches and charged splinters raining down all around her.

Sweetie panted, not because she needed to, but because she felt like it.

She turned her red gaze to the rest of the of the tree's surrounding her.
She was gonna blast them all down. Every last tree was gonna burn. She was gonna burn the whole forest down, the whole world down, so it could not harm her any more.

But the worst of her anger had burned away and given way to grief. And a little voice in her to calm down. The battery symbol flashed cautionary in her vision. Not nearing depletion, just as a heads up at what her tantrum was costing her oh so dearly paid for energy reserves. And what would raging out on the world accomplish anyway? It would only waste energy on a futile task.

Such emotions where just draining her already limited energy reserves.

The emotions disagreed. They were sure that if she did not get an outlet for her frustrations, she would surely explode. And speaking of outlet: It would have been nice to have some tears to fell.

-:: Crying sequence initiated // ERROR // Tear sacks not found ::-

Sweetie wanted to cry out loud. But she could not let herself. Because her stupid broken voice just made it sound wrong. Her voice. Her lovely squeaky voice. Yet another piece of herself. A piece that had made her into the pony she was. Now lost to her. She would never be able to Squeak again.

No! she told herself. Punching the thoughts aside. She would squeak again. Because she was going to fix this.

The blasters retracted into her back, and she adjusted her helmet (that miraculously remained strapped to her head) as she stomped away with furious determination.

She was going to fix everything.

And then she was gonna come back and burn the rest of the forest down!

***

Fixing herself was gonna become a later concern. First she had to get out of this forest.

As she walked. She began to calm down. And as she calmed down, She started to think. The voice in her head started asking her what she was planning. She had managed to fulfill her most urgent need for power. But what was her long term goal?

Sweetie added "fixing herself" into her to do list. But how?

-:: Schematics unavailable ::-

Why was there no schematic? Had she not heard somewhere that her repair program needed a schematic to repair - Had she not heard that her "growth" simulator was supposed to have a schematic of her grown up body, so it knew what to work towards?

She had. She confirmed it by revisiting an old memory log she had acquired. Alas, there was no schematic in her head. Had the mechanic deleted it? Why? She could only imagine the reason being to make her dependent on a mechanic, Make her unable to care for herself so that she would not run away.

Well - Poop on those plans. She was gonna figure out how to take care of herself. She would simply have to carefully mapping out the reaches of her body, inside and out, and compare them to the schematics of the Steel Stallions. for while there were differences, there were also a lot of similarities.

-:: STRANGER DANGER ::-

Something had showed up in her vision. Sweetie instantly snapped back into the front seat of her body, not realizing how far down she had sunken in her own thoughts.

Up ahead. She spotted a dark figure, standing alone in a small glade.

A part of her was actually glad to see the stranger. Experience taught her that if there was a pony, there would also have to be a settlement of some sorts somewhere nearby.
Experience also taught her that ponies normally did not stand in the open, completely exposed to the rain. Even if the naked trees would provide little cover, It was still highly unusual.

-:: Stranger Danger ::-

Sweetie hushed her systems and kept her cannon ports closed, not wanting to scare anypony who might be able to lead her out of this place.

At first she did not approach. She did not dare. Not with how she looked, and how she … sounded. What would anypony think if this metal monstrosity that she was suddenly appeared out of the darkness and started talking in a broken robotic voice? They would probably scream and run away.

Well. Even if they did, she would be able to follow them. They would probably have to run back to a home somewhere. Except, maybe they would run to get help. What if that home was filled with an angry, bloodthirsty mob who would descend upon the forest with touches and pickaxes looking to destroy her?

Sweetie might be able to fight them off. But she would rather avoid a confrontation. So she simply waited. Out of sight. Far enough back in the darkness for any pony eyes to be able to reach her.

She waited for the pony to return to whichever home it had come from. But the pony just stood there. Ever staring off into the darkness as still and stoic as a statue.

Eventually her patience grew thin. And she carefully started to move closer to the stoic pony.

“Hello?” She called out. Then immediately regretted herself, embarrassed over how her voice sounded.

But the pony gave no response. It didn't even turn its head.

-:: Fear levels rising ::-

Sweetie crept closer. Keeping a low profile as she carefully approached the stoic stranger, who did not even seem to breathe.

-:: Caution ::-

Sweetie didn't need her systems to tell her about the creepy nature of this forest and this stranger. How could he just stand there in the rain, like made of stone? Was it a statue? She had to get to the bottom of this.

She was finally standing at the edge of the glade. Close enough that she could make out the colors of the stranger. It was a brown pony with a green mane. Big and strong of build. Almost unnaturally so.

The color scheme made her think of Jr Branch and his pa Trunks. But what would they be doing here? So far away from their home?
Curiosity got the better of her. And she stepped out into the glade.

That's when the pony suddenly turned its head. And Sweetie Screamed.

It had no face. No eyes, No mouth. No nostrils. Not even any ears. Just the crude shape of a muzzle on its blank featureless head.

It moved its legs, Not so much raising its hooves as detaching itself from the muddy ground in which it had been standing. And started walking towards her. Every step emphasized by a muddy squelch. It seemed to It seemed to watch her with its eye-less head. Turning to face her with its featureless body.

As it got closer. Sweetie saw that it was indeed a statue. A statue made of clay. Or more specificity mud. Mud that slowly slid off its features in the rain. Its ragged and torn mane and tail were made of grass and moss that barely was able to stay in place as rain that hammered the creature, constantly be shifting and reforming its surface. Though never melting it.

If only it had been a real statue. Sweetie didn't know which was more horrifying. The creatures nightmarish appearance Or the fact that it moved.

The creature lowered its head, and charged her.

Stunned by shock and fear, Sweetie didn't react until the massive mudpony slammed into her chest with all the force of a freight train. It threw her into the nearest tree. And then it was instantly over her again, pinning her into the tree with all the weight of its massive body.

It reared back for a second, and then started to headbutt her. Again and again the mudpony used its skull to hammer on her chest with relentless force in an never-ending rhythm. Mud and grass splashed into sweeties eyes as it did so. She could hear her armor creaking under the assault. This beat was going to continue until it destroy her.

No! She would not have any of that. This was no time to be frozen in fear - said the voice in her head. She had to fight back. But the cannon ports to her blasters were pinned shut against the tree.

But they were not her only weapon.

As the Claypony reared up again, Sweetie grabbed hold of its head with both hooves. She buried her back hooves on its chest, and as it charged her into the tree once more, she pulled.

She had no idea how hard she pulled. But the head came of with a wet “sploch”.

Sweetie fell to the ground with a big heap of clay in her lap. The stallion staggered backwards, beheaded. But seemingly not bothered to much by this, as it quickly regained its composure and charged at her again.

The stump of the neck where the head had been quickly melted away in the rain, and the claypony no longer looked like a pony, but more like a turd with legs.

Well if the turd wanted a fight she would happily give it one. She hugged the claypony head so hard she squashed in into dirt. Then reared up just as the clay-turd was about to start stomping at her. She met its hooves with her own, and dirt splashed everywhere as the clay succumb to the force of her steel.

The clay pony staggered back once again. Now limping as it had lost one of its front legs. Sweetie was not about to let it get away. She threw herself over it and ripped off the other front leg. Causing the turd to fall to the ground.

She then ripped off its remaining legs and climbed on top of the torso. Whereupon she very literally tore it to pieces one hoof-full of clay at a time, until nothing remained but a wet puddle that she repeatedly stomped into the ground where it belonged.

“TAKE THAT YOU STUPID TURD!” She yelled down at the puddle below her.

Sweetie did not feel any pain. She did not pant, sweat or feel sore in any part of her body. But she did feel satisfaction. She had been able to vent some of the frustration that she felt over this cursed, stupid, evil forest. And had taken it out on this … this Ponyfication of the forest itself.

It really was trying to kill her, wasn't it? Why else would the forest poop out giant evil clayponies if for no other purpose than to make her life miserable?

She raised a hoof and screamed.

“TAKE THAT YOU STUPID FOREST! IS THAT ALL YOU GOT!?”

She wished she had not asked. For in that moment, more clayponies emerged from behind the trees. Slowly they walked towards her, attempting to surround her.

Sweetie had to back up in order to try and keep her back free.

“WHY!” She screamed at them. “What do you want from me? Why do you send evil clayponies after me you stupid evil forest?!"

The clayponies continued their slow approach. Their numbers formed together in a half circle. A wall of clayponies that were slowly pushing her backwards. Yet none of them charged. It was more like they were herding her away.

What was this. Some kind of punishment form the vengeful forest spirits. Was this the creatures that Branch and Trunks had warned her about. The ones that drove away all the woodcutters because they angered the forest? But what was their problem with little Sweetie? What had she ever done to them?

Unless...

“Please” She tried. “I'm sorry I blew up your tree. I'm sorry that I destroyed a few of your homes. I was just so angry. I just want to get out of this forest. I'm lost. A promise I will leave and never come back.”

She genuinely meant it. But the Clayponies did not seem to care as they marched ever closer.

“FINE! I'm leaving! I don't care that I blew up your stupid tree anyway! What kind of stupid forest creates clayponies anyway!?”

“The forest did not create these guardians.” said a voice “I did.”

The calyponies stopped. And two of them stepped aside. Alowing a dark figure to emerge from behind their ranks. Dark was the word to be emphasized here. For it was a pony so black that until it spoke again, Sweetie thought it was a shadow.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

It was a stallion. A unicorn as black as the night. With a tail and eyes as red as fire, they stuck out like the only dots of color in this muddy, damp scene. He was wearing a big top hat, and a wrinkled old tuxedo that was stained by mud and grass. He even had a wilted, yellowed flower in the chest-pocket. Misplaced clothing for the forest indeed. As he looked more like a circus director than a forest ranger. A red tail that matched his eyes wagged behind him, But Sweetie could not see a single straw of hair sticking out from under his hat. Even his neck was clean of mane.

Despite that. Sweetie recognized the figure.

“Necro...”

***

“Hello Molten. Nice of you to remember the name of your old rival.”

What did he just say?

“Hey! I'm not with molten. I HATE Molten!” Sweetie cried as new anger swelled up inside her.

The dark pony stepped closer. His red eyes seemed to pierce straight through Sweeties Armor.

“What is this? Some attempt to humor me? To distract me? Make me lower my guard out of sympathy?

He stepped even closer to Sweetie, Who instinctively backed away

“Or perhaps … Out of Deja vu” He raised a hoof towards Sweetie. “Because you look familiar.”

Sweetie did not know what to say. Did this mad pony think she was aligned with molten

On a whim, she introduced herself.

"Why... Yes, I'm Sweetie Belle."

Internally, she cursed her broken voice.

“So you say, yet you look just like any of his Steel Stallions – Except smaller, and more... Talkative?”

He smiled a wicked smile.

“Go on … Humor me. How do you intend to explain that you know my name. “

“Because I … I … Because I saw you. In a memory … you were talking to a pegasus. Shockwave I think you called him. And he called you Necro … because... that's your name right?”

The Black stallion stared for a moment. Then he started laughing. Ha laughed so hard he dropped and rolled around in the rain soaked dirt, further ruining his suit.

“You are telling me … He hid it THERE?” All the data we stole, and he hid it there!? Oh sweet Irony. Was it you that helped that little brat escape as we set the place on fire, Shockwave? Did you know that she carried all the fruit of our hard work, even as you claimed to see it all destroyed.”

Sweetie did not know what the stallion was talking about. Even less if she should laugh along with him.

“And now it has ended up in your hooves Molten. Does that make you think you hold all the cards now? Does that make you think you can finally conquer Equestria. How is that going anyway? Oh, that's right. Nowhere. Because you have yet to get past me!”

Suddenly Necros pose became hostile again.

“And you sent this little soul less automation at me? To taunt me?”

The word's stung. Deep. Did this stallion still think she was one of the mechanics Bloodbots? Did he think Molten could hear him – That he was perhaps controlling her? And what did he just call her!

“HEY! I'm not a soul-less automation!”

“Oh Really? Prove it.”

Sweetie froze. How was she supposed to prove such a thing? Yet, she was appendant to comply. Any chance to avoid further conflict made her willing to play along.

All she had to do... Was prove that she was alive.

She immediately thought of the thing that made her feel more alive than anything.

“I... I have feelings.”

"Feelings?"

Necro waved his hoof to one of the clay ponies as his horn flared. It started laughing. A mouth appeared on its empty face, A mouth that bent upward in a smile. It opened its mouth ans started laughing. A silent laugh as its clay-jaw wagged about. It collapsed on the ground, grabbing its belly and kicking wildly with its back leg in glee.

He waved towards another claypony, and it started crying. Tears of mud ripped from eyes that appeared on its skull. And a mouth that frowned so deep that it looked like it would fall of the muddy face. It to collapsed. Grabbing its eyes and wailing in a silent cry.

Necro looked waved his hoof around. Making all of the clayponies display some form of emotion or another.
Then he turned back to Sweetie.

"Whatever you think you have is stuff we made up, stuff we put inside you! every emotion. WE felt first, Every thought, We thought first.”

“But … But …. That's impossible. I have memories. So many memories”

“And that is all you have! He said and pointed at Sweeties head. “The evidence is right there! you have seen into other peoples memories. Does that make you those people? No. Its only a copy of a memory. A little brain frequency stored inside a crystal. You are made up of nothing but memories. Data and code that bounces together inside that little logic center of yours. All saved in that cybercore of yours."

He started creeping closer again. His horn glowed an evil red, and as he got close, sweetie could make out what looked like a nasty crack running up the length of his horn

“What would happen if those memories were … Deleted!”

He spat out the last word. Causing Sweetie to jump backwards in fear. As it he had just deleted something by merely mentioning the word.

“NO! ... I'm... I'm ... I'm …” She stammered. And wish her broken voice she really did sound like a broken record. “ I'm more than that! I... do I have a soul! At the very least a artificial soul!”

“No you don't. You only have a series of programs being bounced around in that Central Neural processor of yours."

My what? Was that her brain? Just a copy of a mind?

”But. But... Even if I don't have a real brain. I still have a real brain pattern! You copied the brain pattern of a foal!” She cried. Grasping for straws of information she had just recently acquired, Not understanding nor believing half the things she was saying. But she was willing to do anything to make this mad pony stand down.”

He did not stand down.

“I knew a stallion that used to talk like that! He was quite naive. Thinking he could save a dead foal, thinking he could resurrect it and bind its soul to new body. That's why they called in me.”

“Called you in?”

To do what? Resurrect the dead? Scared out of her mind she asked:

“Are you a ... Necromancer?”

Necro laughed again.

"Only by name. Only because people like to make assumptions about pony's with my color scheme. Not that I have not humored them. Not that i have not claimed to practice the trade as I bring forth creations so lifelike that they could fool the most keen eyes of ponies."

Suddenly he was happy again. He enthusiastically gestured out to the clay ponies. And started dancing around and singing about the life of his minions like he was preforming in front of an eager crowd.

Sweetie did not feel eager to learn about the things of one she had just been forced to fight. Besides, she could not see anything true to life in these muddy creations. If this pony had once been as god as he was now singing to be – then he had fallen far from his trade.

The song ebbed out with all the minions doing a little dance alongside their creator. And he wildly proclaimed:

“Celestia does not give life. We do! We ponies already control the sky and the weather, the passing of seasons and the very sun and moon. Why not Life and death?”

Sweeties voice would have shaken in horror - if it did not sound so broken.

“Are you saying, you can bind the soul of a pony to... anything?"

“It does not matter what kind of body you put such a soul in. A golem of clay, stone or … ” He paused, with a sharp eye on Sweetie ”… Steel. Or just a pile of wooden sticks... Maybe that's what Timber wolves are? Wolf souls tied to wooden sticks?”
Then? I'm a spirit trapped in a robot body”

“Trapped spirits? HA! No. That foal DIED! And they made you in its stead!”

“Then.” She said with a trembling voice “Am I a ghost?”

Necro's eyes grew sharper. his smile vanishing

“You really think you are that foal, don't you? Well. You are not. You are nothing but a copy."

”But you said...”

“I said that the whole purpose of the project was to bring the dead back to life. But we failed. How can you take the soul from something that has never had one? How can a dead foal have a soul? In fact. How could you bring life back to something that was never alive?

"But but ... Aren't I a ghost?"

“A ghost in the shell maybe.” said Necro. “just a little random scramble of runaway code that thinks its alive. Because we programmed it to think it was alive.”

"NO! that can't be true I AM ALIVE!"

”Only because we programmed you to think that you are.”

Think … Think … That's it!

”I THINK THEREFORE I AM!” She screamed out. Who had told her that? Dr Cardiac perhaps? It did not matter who. It was the last straw she was grasping for.

Necro only sneered in response.

“Thinking... You mean processing information. Everything you see and everything you do all becomes data. information that stores inside that head of yours. Long streams of code that are processed as your logic center tries to figure out the most logical course of action.

'Logic' Sweetie thought. Her Heart-Drive rebelled as her mind presented her with a few old clips of her own thoughts.

-:: You can not save that foal in the river ::-

-:: You can not save those ponies from that fire ::-

-:: You can not eat all those cookies ::-

These thoughts that seemed to haunt her whenever she made a decision. These were the logical viewpoint. The safe way. But time and time again she had ignored logic, because...

“I feel...”

”You are going in circles you little soul-less automation.”

-:: Don't call me that ::-

“And I grow tired of talking to you. You are just as thick headed as those morons who thought they could create life!”

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

“Well. They failed. And you have failed to convince me that you are anything but an animatronic automation sent by my arch enemy Metalhoof. And he made you think you're alive just to piss me off. Well. Congratulations Molten, you are succeeding in making me angry!”

It was making him angry? Sweeties hate levels had been rising from the beginning. and they were not dangerously close to an overload.

"You're angry?" She hissed.

-:: Combat mode initiated ::-

“I'LL SHOW YOU ANGRY!”

Sweetie's Blasters pooped out of he sides and started charging up. Immediately she felt the drain. but it didn not matter, she had enough energy to wipe the smile of this madpony.

The madpony however. Did not seem threatened, in fact, his smile only widened.

“So. Have you finally decides to send your ultimate weapon against me, Molten? Ironic, You must think. Since I helped you create those energy canons.”

What did he mean by that?

“Can you feel it, little bot? How they drain your power supply. Molten wanted a weapon that could drain magic. What do you think it uses for a spell matrix? A crystal catalysator that was fine tuned to absorb magic from all around the air and the land around it. Why – You could make a weapon with infinite ammo. Sound to good to be true, doesn't it... Molten?
That's because it is."

Sweetie swallowed.

"Have you forgotten? That it was I who helped you make those Crystalized catalysators."

You needed a unicorn to do the fine tuning, to actually charge the crystal with the magic you desired. And guess what – I would never lend such a powerfull weapon in the hands of my enemy – The blasters does drain their energys from their surroundings”

He smiled maliciously

" ... Don't you see it … They only drain you.”

Sweeties eyes would have widened,

“So go ahead. Start shooting shoot. It will only make my victory come quicker!“

His horn glowed as red as his eyes, and the clayponies attacked.

-:: Fire ::-

They might outnumber her. But Sweetie was the one with the range weapons. Two of them in fact. And as she fires her first volley- Two clay ponies were reduced to dust.
She fired again and again. Sweeping down the flay ponies as they appeared in front of her.
Necro had disappeared behind his minions, but his voice still echoed loud and clear.

“Your time is limited! But the earth is eternal” He screamed as he summoned more and more of the things.

Sweetie gunned them all down. But more appeared out from the shadows and behind the tress. Attempting to overwhelm her. The very ground beneath her started rising as a mudpony started to form beneath her hooves. Sweetie managed to keep her volley consistent as she simultaneously stomped the mud underneath her back into the ground.
"My forces are endless! You are nearing depletion!"

Necro was right. Sweetie knew she could not keep this up forever. She was managing to keep the horde from reaching her – But for every claypony she downed - Two more rose from the earth to jump through their aches.

She needed to get away. But how? She could not turn her back on the wave of clay.

Necro laughed. And his horn glowed brighter. Suddenly, there was a crack, and his magic aura failed. Necro dropped to his knees, grabbing his horn and screamed in pain. As he did. The clay ponies ceased spawning.

Seeing the gap in their advance – Sweetie turned her tail and ran.

The remaining clay ponies followed, and were hot on her tail. So close in fact that the closest one were looming over her as she ran. A massive maw appeared on its face. And the gape Spread so wide that its whole head transformed into a single big hole, full of muddy teeth.
Sweetie prayed she did not trip on anything now, else this nightmare would been over her, and it would do far worse to her than a simple wolf back in everfree. In fact, a wolf would have been preferable. Never would she think there were woods worse than the Everfree.
The abomination's maws snapped behind her, And managed to get a hold of her tail.

-:: NO! NOT MY TAIL! ::-

Sweetie instantly put her front hooves down in the ground. Skidding to a stop as she bucked out with her back legs. The abomination ran straight into her outstretched back hooves, and its face exploded on impact.

The rest of the mud-pile then impacted with her. And the two of them tumbles over each other down a slope. Sweetie managed to wrestle herself free of the murderous clay by ripping of one of its legs as the fell. The beheaded pile of mud was flung flung off her and rolled into a tree. It tried to get up, but with only three legs it was slower than Sweetie, and a dual wave of super heated energy slammed into it - causing both mudpony and the base of the tree to explode.

Sweetie retracted her blasters and started running again, just as the rest of the mudd-wave descended down the slope to where she had been standing. But the tree she had just blasted fell, as fortune would have it, right on top of the chasing horde, smashing them into wet puddles.

Sweetie looked behind her to see the more mudponies jumping over the fallen stock. She increased her speed. Diverting all power to her leg as she galloped away from her pursuers.

She looked behind her again. The horde was fading into the darkness behind her. She was about to outrun them.
But then, from behind the tree in front of her, a clay pony came and blindsided her.
It jumped on top of her and tackled her to the ground. Sweetie spun around and managed to land on her hooves. But the thing clung to her back.

She had no time to play rodeo, else the horde would be upon her. She had to run and hope her speed would throw the rider off.
She looked up behind her, and was met with a pair of red eyes, glowing in the clay-face.

This one was different. It clung to her back by melting, and sucking its mass stuck like a snail. Its mud seeped into her armor. It reached in between the cracks of her protective back plate, and hardened. Its forehooves had suddenly become the claws of a griffin, and then it started pulling and pushing simultaneously. More and more mud sipped in under her armor, adding to the pressure between her inner frame and outer shell as the Claws simultaneously pulled.

There was a horrible metal scream as the back plate bent. The repair system screamed as it tried to hold the bolts together, And Sweetie was sure that she joined into the chorus and wailed at the top of her broken voicebox as she increased her speed even more. But the demon on her back would not come off.

But the back plate did. There was a snap as the bolts holding it in place snapped surrendered to the force. And a piece of her was ripped off with violent force. So much so that the creatures was thrown backwards, Slamming the metal plate into its own face. It only barely managed to cling onto her by pressing its thighs against her flank.

In that split second, with panic rushing through her mind, Sweetie realized that her canon ports were free again.

She popped out her blasters, hoping to knock the demon of her back. It worked, but only barely, as the the ting still managed to cling its around her flank. Sweetie held the blasters up as high as the mechanical arms would allow, pressing her shoulder blades together to make the big, round energy canons 'clonk' together over her back. They now protected her exposed back from the clay crazy figure from Tartarus. But unfortunately he was still clinging on behind her and started sipping into the exhaustion ports.

Sweetie had to try a wild idea as soon as it formed in her mind.

Not wanting to sacrifice to much more of her precious energy. She turned off the canons forward blast – but left the backblast on.
Upon firing, the backblast struck the demon straight in the muzzle, literary blasting it apart with compressed hot air. However, the force was strong enough that it sent Sweetie flying forward with all the force of a canon.

Sweetie tumbled around as she landed. As she sat back up she saw that the hoard was approaching.

Necro was among them, riding on a clay pony so large that he appeared as a foal on the back of it. Necro himself looked unconscious, his limbs hanging loose down the side of the giant, and his head resting in its neck. Yet his horn glowed red – and his magic glowed just as red as the eyes that had appeared on the giant clay pony. The same eyes that had been on the strange mudpony a second earlier.
Sweetie got up and readied herself. The giant stepped closer. Its muddy head twisting and reforming, until a giant smiling Necro was before her.

Panicking, Sweetie pulled the trigger, But with the main blast still turned off, she sent herself flying again. Right into the chest for the giant. Said giant was stunned by the sudden leap and hesitated as sweetie fired again from her vertical position. this time the backblast sent her up in the air,, smashing through the chin of the she backflipped and managed to land on her hooves a few meters away.

There was a brief moment of silence as neither party could understand that she had just done that. Then a slow clapping was heard as Necro sat up on the back of his giant. His horn had ceased glowing, and the eyes had disappeared from the giant.

“Bravo.” He said, clapping his hooves. “I see you are not out of new trick yet.”

His wicked smile grew.

“Unfortunately for you. Neither am I.”

His horn started glowing again, As did his eyes, And a new set of red eyes appeared not only on the giant, but on several of the other clay ponies as well.

But, just like that, Necro ceased his magic and turned his eyes to the east, as if someone had called his name. He looked into the darkness that even sweeties infrared vision could not see. Whatever he was looking at, it was beyond the trees of the forest.

“So. You planned to distract me with your greatest creation, and then attack me from behind, Molten. Clever. But not clever enough.”

The giant turned its tail towards Sweetie. And started galloping back the way it had came from.

“Deal with her!” Necro roared to his minions, as he disappeared out of sight.

The horde of normal cay ponies that remained obeyed their puppet master, and started ruining after Sweetie.
Sweetie started running as well. But this time she did not divert power to her legs, but to her blasters.

Leaping into the air, and then letting out a back blast at the height of her jump, she was sent flying , the backblast extending the length of her jump by dozens of meters. She quickly got the hang of it. And was soon leaping like a frog through the forest. With her new found way of travel, she quickly gained distance from her pursuers.

She looked behind her, where her pursuers were already becoming little tiny dots at the end of her vision range. She was literally rocket jumping away from her pursuers.

***

Sweetie could not continue jumping forever. It drained far too much energy. She eventually slowed down, retracted her blasters, and proceeded to run at at regular pace. Eventually growing confident enough that she had shaken off her pursuers to slow down to a trot.

The forest was empty and dark. And she was alone with the rain and her thoughts. Thoughts as dark as the night.

He had called her a ghost. A ghost inside a shell. What shell? The only thing she thought about that had shells were turtles.

He said they had killed a foal.

Was she just a ghost? A ghost from a dead foal bonded to a mecanical body.

Had she died? And been resurrected as a machine? Did that count as resurrection? Or had she not been resurrected at all. Was she just a copy of another little filly? A copy of a ghost?

How did it feel to be a copy of a ghost? The only thing she could feel was her failing power supply.

The fight and flight from the mad stallion had drained her. Her broken battery was already down at one fourth of the strength. She did not need the energy bar in her vision to tell her that. She could feel it.

Sweetie stopped.

She could … feel it?

Yes, she could. She could also feel the energy of the mysterious Heart-Drive component flushing through her. Affecting her EP. And she could feel the systems working on the elusive component. Drilling further and further in amongst it's symmetrical circuits.

-:: Heart-Drive integrity // 75 percent left ::-

What was hidden behind that elusive wall? What secrets did that component hold?

Was it her soul? Was it that tiny part of her that made her more than just a machine?

What was even a soul? The part of you that went to heaven when you died. That's what everypony said.

That's why she had previously thought that she could be saved, if somepony deleted her memory. That it could be restored somehow.
But If she really was nothing more than a collection of memories. Then, would that not mean that the pony names Sweetie belle would disappear as they did? If he really had managed to delete her, would that have been the same ting as death?

Death.

The concept of death was foreign to her. Like something that only happened to people in the movies. Not to people you knew. Least of all yourself. She knew that Applebloom's parents were dead. Gone, and not coming back. But she couldn’t truly understand what that meant, since she had her parents alive. yet she had to wonder where they had gone, after they died. Had Celestia come for them?

They all said that Celestia would be there with you when you died. Like when your parents wrote a letter to the princess when you were born, she would be there when you went away. At your birth and death.

She had heard the child’s poems. Heard the bridle gossip. And even heard the psychotic preachings on the day a deranged wanderer came through town. They all said that Celestia would be there, Waiting for you when you died, and guide you into the everafter.

It was no wonder children grew up to view their ruler with superstitious awe. - Like a goddess. A goddess that would be there for you at your birth, and at your death.

But she had not been there when Sweetie was made. She had no part in her creation. Did that mean she would not be there to guide her into the everafter? Could Sweetie even go into the everafter? Or was that just for ponies with souls?

They said robots had no souls.

And if she didn’t have a soul. Did that mean she would not go to the everafter when she died? That there would be nothing waiting for her?

Suddenly the thought of death terrified her.

Of course she knew ponies grew up and got older. Part of getting your mark was growing up.

-:: Robots don’t get marks ::-

She looked down on herself.

-:: Robots don’t grow up ::-

Did that mean she would be a little filly forever?

-:: Adjusting synonyms // Young forever // Eternal life // Immortality ::-

That thought should have made her eccentric … right?

-:: Maybe ::-

Well, She knew one thing. If she was not gonna go to the everafter. Then she was gonna live forever.

***

This forest lasted forever.

As did the rain. And the darkness. And through it she walked tirelessly. Accompanied only by the constant drum solo that the raindrops played on her helmet and armor plating.

In a way she had to be thankful to not feel any pain in her neck. The repair systems were still mingling with the damage done to her neck vertebrae. With her collar ripped off she was surely getting water inside her armor. The oversized helmet on her head only covered so much. Yet another thing she had to fix, good thing she did not have to stop to rest, eat or sleep in this weather. The senseless metal body made her indifferent to the cold or the rain and the Infrared eyes that made the dark no bother.

Hunger, Fatigue, Exhaustion. Sleep. She had conquered them all, these things could not hurt her any more.

What did bother her however, was all that she had lost. In less than an hour she had lost her voice, her tongue, her neck collar, and almost her tail.

She tried desperately not to think about what was the very last thing she had gotten to eat. The very last thing her tongue and taste sensors had gotten to sense. She tried not to think about how she would never get to feel the taste of anything ever again. Never feel the sweet sugary chocolate milky flavors of mothers home baked ...

-:: Depression levels rising ::-

She tried not to think about what the mad pony Necro had said. That she was just some random Scrambles of code that thought it was alive.
That everything she did every day. The many, many experiences and insights and colors and events – all rushing through her central neuro processor. Her “brain”. Similar to how all of the data of her body was being rushed through her body functions processor. Information that was processed, and a course of action taken. A sequence to start running there, a program to start playing there.

What determined what action was taken? In the case of her BP, it would have to be the settings that regulated what she was supposed to feel. Exhaustion, hunger, fatigue, wet, cold, etc. And who had placed those settings on her? Other ponies. Other mad ponies. All of it guided by a little program controlling her actions.

Her thoughts returned to that “control program”. Did that file perhaps contain a long list of settings for how she should behave in every situation? Just like the settings on her BP controlled her body functions. What then? If everything she did was being determined by a little voice in her head, then, did she even have anything similar to free will?

-:: Depression levels reaching maximum levels ::-

This wasn't working. Thinking about these things only made her feel worse. She had to distract herself somehow.
Desperation drove her to the new memory files from the blue disks, anything that wasn't her own. Because reliving old memories now would be to painful.

-:: Memory file playing ::-

“There has been another incident."

Sweeties mouth formed the words of a stallion as she once again started experiencing a past memory, through the body of another pony.
However, this was not the pegasi she had dream about during her little slumber in the tree. Despite the file coming from the same collection of most recently acquired data. No. This was another pony altogether, the voice was thicker, and the body heavier.

"Incident, that is putting it lightly. Said the pegasi, this time not a mirror reflection, but sitting on the other end of a familiar round conference table. "She is walking around the halls. She is freaking out the staff, and I seriously think doctor Marrow Is starting to lose it."

Over at the other end of the big round table, Marrow was rolled together on her chair in a ball of nervousness. The Green shape of Molten Metalhoof was standing over her, very gently petting her hair.

"What are we going to do? Said the green stallion. "Lock her in?"

“Absolutely not!” The Big brown pony stated by slamming his hoof on the table “The family won't allow it.”

"To Tartarus with the family!" Cursed the scary black unicorn. "They don’t know anything.”

"But It is still their little girl." The brown stallion said. "Their concerns should be our main concern."

"Should it?" Molten said, with some hints of venom in his voice "After all the work we have put down into making that filly. What's to say its not our little girl?"

“That's not a filly" Marrow muttered underneath him. "Its an unnatural little monster."

Molten hunched the nervous mare as gently as he could and continued to preen her white mane.

"And that's coming from you Molten" The brown stallion growled. "I'm starting to think you are a little too interested in that filly"

"Of course I am!" Molten all but shouted back "Its the achievement of the century!"

"ITS A LIFE! AND NOT YOUR PLAYTHING!"

"Is it?" The black stallion smirked.

"Oh don't you start too, Necro. I've had enough of your talk!"

"AND I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF ALL OF YOUR TALK!" Roared the blue pony that Sweetie was riding. "I know that our unorthodox research has put us on edge. But I ask you to remember why you are doing this. Regardless of your viewpoints. Because you are all right."

His eyes swept over every mare and stallion percent. his lips curling into a questionable smile.

"You do remember, don't you?"

Everypony lowered their eyes in an introspective shame. But no pony spoke up about what that reason actually was.
Finally, His eyes swept back to the mare in glasses, who had up until this point been siting quiet, tapping her hooves under her chin.

"Thank you Prism." She said, without even looking up at the pony who had spoken. Regardless. Sweetie felt her (his) cheeks blush, just a little.

The mare in glasses continued in a sharp tone “We should think of this little "incident" as progress. Not as a problem!”

"Indeed." Said Prism "It seems as if the subject has imprinted on little miss Rarity. we don't know how or why. But she keeps searching for her every night."

"And causing untold damage to herself and the equipment. Do you know how close we were to losing the skin!?" Said a thin greasy pony, whose white coat was stained in several kinds of fluids.

"Not to mention the psychological trauma. Just how is that little filly not traumatized after waking up with a corpse in her bed?"

Both the brown earth pony, the pegasi and Molten turned to give Necro a piece of their mind. But a single glare from the spectacled mare caused them to remain silent.

"I believe that our next step should be to bring in an expert on foal psychology." She said, as her glasses shimmered "Someone who can determine if the subject's behavior is similar to that of a foal. And perhaps help little miss Rarity"

This was met with silence around the table.

”And what are we gonna tell this brain shrink of yours? Just how old is the subject supposed to be anyway?” Said Necro, looking over at the pegasi.

”I'm not entirely sure" He answered as he flipped through some papers "Physically she is that of a filly. But mentally she is barely more than a foal.”

”If that would seem too suspicious, we could always upload some information to make up for the lack of knowledge." Said the greasy pony, a bit absent minded "you know... Give her the knowledge that a filly her age should have.”

”ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Shouted the mare in glasses in a rare display of outburst. If Sweetie had not been nailed to the body of this stoic stallion, she would surely have jumped out of her seat.

”That's goes against the whole experiment.” The mare growled as she collected herself

”I have to agree” Said the brown pony. ”We have to determine if her neural processor is capable of learning on its own – and the only way to do that is to let her discover the world at her own pace – I other words, let her learn like a foal would.”

”By sticking things in her mouth?” Necro sneered with sarcasm "Wasn't that what caused the power outage a while ago?"

"If that is what it takes.” The brown stallion said firmly.

"Speaking of age." Said the mare, now calm as ice again. Our vision of a growing synthetic body is still but a vision, and we have not come any closer to a solution since our last meeting. Is there any process being made on those schematics I asked for?"

At this, everypony except marrow pulled up a different set of schematics from their notes. Including the stallion Sweetie was occupying, who put forth a sketch that looked disturbingly similar to the mare that sat right next to him. To whom he also pushed his contribution.

The mare in glasses did not take notice of his drawings, she just facepalmed with the table.

”Stallions ...” She mumbled. "This was exactly what we were trying to avoid."

-:: End replay ::-

Monster. Experiment. Filly...
And those ponies in the memory, they all seemed to disagree about what Sweetie was. And what she should really be.

Sweetie wondered. Who was this psychologist they were talking about? Was it Dr Cardiac?
Why had Rarity been mentioned by name? Was she the family they were talking about. The one they were suppose to build her for?
What did 'imprinting' mean? Did it mean that they had programmed her to love Rarity? To think of her as an older sister?
Was she really a walking corpse terrorizing the halls? How could she had no memory of this?

And where was that light coming from?!

Sweetie had not noticed that she had still been walking while she was reviewing the file. Her legs had kept moving through the woods on some form of auto pilot while she loosened herself in her thoughts and other ponies memories. There was no longer any mud beneath her hooves but the hard packed asphalt of a road – That she was now standing in the middle of.

Unfortunately, the road was not unoccupied tonight.

A big bright light filled her infrared vision, blinding her. Then came the sound of several heavy hooves hammering the road. And the sounds of heavy wheels.

Before she had time to react, she found herself underneath those heavy hooves. There was a screech and a halt as somepony skittered to avoid her, But even they had reacted far to late in this dark and rainy night. Somepony tripped over her, knocking them both of their hooves. A second later she found herself under the wheels of a big and heavy wagon.

The first wheel struck her right in her belly with enough force to dent her armor. Sending the wagon up in the air. Sweetie continued spinning and landed on her belly, just as the wagon came down. There was a most horrifying sound of steel giving out with a horrifying snap.

Sweetie was sent tumbling out on the other side. The world was spinning so fast and her eyes where showing her so many warning signals that they blocked her vision.

Or they would have, if her vision had still been functional.

In a panic, Perhaps due to the light, She must have shut off her eyes. And now they refused to reactivate.
Sweeties mind was still spinning, the spirit level balance system was offline. As was her voicebox, BP, and a tone of other systems.

In fact... Why could she not get in contact with the rest of her body? Why could she not make her legs stand up? Why could she not even turn her head?

-:: !WARNING! // Catastrophic damage caused to central power line // Neck tendons broken // Ball-bearing disk dented // Vertebrae disconnected // Main connection port broken// !EMERGENCY REPAIR PROTOCOL ACTIVATED! // !ALL SYSTEMS SHUT DOWN! ::-

Sweetie could do nothing. She could not even mentally go down into her body and tell it to send some more power to her head just to allow her to reactivate her eyes.
Only some bare ounce of energy was left running through her brain-processor as an emergency battery activated in her head. Allowing her to piece together a horrifying conclusion

Her neck was broken.

Strangely enough, her Emotional Processor remained operational, despite the broken connection the echo of her heart drive continued to thump all the way up to her head. Allowing her to feel the fear of being completely and utterly left to the mercy of the strangers who had just run her over.

Her plans on living forever where already becoming drastically shortened.

Was this what it was like to be a cripple? She had heard of ponies becoming cripple after breaking their spine or neck. Would she ever walk again? Would the repair systems hurry up! She could hear their voices. Whomever had just run her over had stopped. She heard the moaning of a stallion complaining about his wounded legs. A stallion using words not meant for her young ears as he complained about the thing he had just ran into.

“That thing just appeared out of nowhere! In the middle of the road.”

“You should watch where you gowning.” laughed another stallion.

“You try and see something in this rain!”

“I told you we where going to fast! Especially on this slippery road!”

“Well, some of us actually wants to get out of this rain! And preferably be home before Hearts Warming eve hits!”

“yet you where suppose to be keeping your eyes open! You are the one with the light!”

A long series of moaning and cursing from the wounded stallion followed.
“Can you just go and check out what it was!? And maybe get it of the road so nopony else has to break their fetlocks running over things.
OW! My legs are killing me!.”

There was the sound of a wagon harness decoupling And hooves started walking towards her.

-:: Stranger Danger ::-

The defensive protocol in her head never reached the blasters in her back. In horror she realized she was completely defenseless. And the strange pony was now standing right over her.

”Darn it! It looks like another of those things has wandered away from the dumpster again!”

That comment drew a laugh from the other stallion.

“That crazy old fool just can't stop tinkering with his toys. Well, since we are going that way anyway to leave this haul we could at least take it with us. And tell that maniac that he has to keep a better eye on his toys.”

Only the spirit-level in Sweeties head told her she was being twisted and turned around as she was presumably picked up from the ground (By levitation field or by bare hooves she could not say). And then carelessly thrown onto the back of the wagon. A clatter told her she landed amongst a hundred tiny metallic things.

“It looks like a little meckanical pony. It even has a real tail. Look! Real hair and everything! Why would he put hair on a mechanical toy?”

“I don't know.” Said the foul mouthed one. “Maybe to make it look real?”

The one who had thrown her laughed.

“Yeah. Like anypony is ever gonna think that thing ever looks like a real pony. Anyway. I'll think ill take it!”

-:: Take what? Her? Or her tail? Oh no please not her tail! ::-

“Do what you want! But can we please get moving now. I feel my leg getting worse.”

“Hang on a moment!”

She heard the snipping sound of a Scissor. To her it sounded like the drawing of a sword.

“Its a beautiful color.”

-:: No! Not my tail! ::-

She wanted to open her mouth. To tell him to leave her tail alone. It was the last thing that remained of her ponydom beside a blank rotting flank. But she could only feel herself slipping further and further away as more and more of her systems shut down.

“What do you even need it for!” shouted the other voice, irritated. “Just how many squirrel tails have you decorated this wagon with anyway? I swear, people at starting to think we are illegal hunters instead of simple garbage collectors!”

The other stallion moved away and for a second.

“I'll tell you what! You take a your broken legs and ride shotgun for a while. Ill pull us the rest of the way.

Sweetie thought she was saved.

"Ans long as I get this.”

-:: No ::-

“You just can't have enough can't you?”

-:: NO ::-

“Well you know me. This wagon is our job. And our job is our pride. And your pride can never have to many decors.”

-:: NO! NOT MY TAIL! ::-

But it was to no avail. She registered her tailbone bending upward. Then there was a loud snip. And suddenly her tailbone was lighter.

There was the sound of a harness decoupling and the wagon tilted as the wounded stallion, Reluctantly got up amongst the garbage. foul mouthing all the while.

“That was the lamest pun I ever heard. You just keep those tails to honor the little critters we have run over.”

There was a shaking to indicate that the wagon started moving again. The repair systems started complaining as the shaking was making it harder to restore her broken neck.

"You really think this hunk of junk is worth remembering?"

Sweetie said nothing. She could do nothing but lie there. And before the microphones in her ears shut down - hear their harsh words and horrible grown up jokes. Words that cut deeper than any wound. They had called her a thing. A thing that could never be taken for a real pony. And the one thing that made her look like a real pony under all this armor was the tail that had now been taken from her and used as some garbage wagon decor.

She must look horrible. She did not need a mirror to know that. Horrible enough to be taken for garbage, and now the two strangers drove her off to some junkyard.

She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

The only thing she could to was retreat down into herself, and cuddle up mentally as she shut down power to her consciousness.

-:: All remaining power diverted to self repair protocols ::-

Author's Note

A big chapter with big emotions, big events and big thoughts.
Surprised I managed to get it out as quickly as I did.

Chapter (ERROR - File not found)

Sweetie lay in the darkness and cried. She had no idea how long she had been crying, or where she was. None of that mattered. She was just a little curled up ball of sadness in the middle of nowhere, sobbing away into her forelegs. Her sobs the only thing that filled the endless black void around her.

Well ... Almost the only thing.

“Does crying really accomplish anything?"

Sweeties ears perked, she recognized that voice. That squeaky soft feminine voice of a filly that had not yet hit puberty.

It was her own voice. And yet - Not.

"Answer – no.”

Sweetie tensed up. She was not the one doing the talking, nor did the voice come from inside her head. It came from somewhere out there.

There was somepony in the darkness with her.

Very slowly, Sweetie raised her head up from her forelegs, and stared into the void. At first there was nothing but darkness, so black that she could not tell if her eyes were open or closed (though 'on or off' might have been the more accurate term). But, as her eyes adjusted to this void of nothing, a faint blue shape started to appear.

Sweetie rose to her hooves, and found herself staring directly at herself.
But it was not a mirror. It was another Sweetie. A semi transparent blue Sweetie.

It spoke with her voice. The voice she was used to hearing. And still ... not. For this 'other her' spoke with a voice that was flat and stoic.
A voice completely devoid of emotions.

Her face was just as blank and empty as her voice. Not distant or anything, on the contrary - Its eyes seemed to stare straight through Sweetie with great intensity. And stare it did, as its eyelids never closed to blink.

"Where ... Where did you come from?" Sweetie asked.

"I have always been with you." The other Sweetie stated matter of factly.

“Wh ... Who are you?”

"I am the one who answers your questions." The blue Sweetie answered. "I am the one who provides direction. And I ask you a question - Does crying solve anything? Answer - no."

It was then Sweetie realized that the sobbing had never stopped.

Yet - She was no longer the one sobbing.

She turned around, and found another Sweetie. This one colored in a faint transparent red. She was sitting down, crying her heart out. Tears were streaming down her face and she generally looked as depressed as Sweetie felt.

The blue doppelganger, who had up until now been standing as still and stiff as a statue (Sweetie wasn't sure she even breathed) now started walking towards the red one. Though It continued to stare blankly at Sweetie. Its eyes filled with great intelligence, and nothing else.

As she walked past Sweetie, it allowed her to see that unlike her, the doppelganger had a mark on her flank. However, it was not a mark like any Sweetie had ever seen. This mark just consisted of text. Straight and narrow letters forming two words:

Logic Center

Sweetie also noticed that the blue one made no sound what so ever when she walked.

"YOU ARE CREEPING ME OUT!"

It was the red one who screamed. She pointed a hoof accusingly at the Blue one. Her eyes were filled with fear, jet she made no attempt to back away as she approached.

Sweetie might not have put it so bluntly. But in a way, It was like the red one had stolen the words right out of her mouth.

"One can not make a sound when one walks on nothing." The blue 'Logic Center' stated, very matter of factly.

It was true - she shouldn't have been able to walk on anything, there was nothing underneath them. And yet, they were all three standing on the same level of existence. As if on some invisible floor.

She looked down on this invisible floor. And noticed her own legs. They were white. Not gray metallic (or covered in armor) - but covered with soft white fur. She looked back and saw that her whole body was covered in white, with a pink curly tail at the end. A pink mane hung from her head, and even her muzzle was white. (her flank still as bare as ever - but that no longer mattered.)

Sweetie blinked, yes, blinked, as eyelids came down and covered her eyes.
She began to feel herself all over. Taking in the softness of her old fleshy self, pulling her hoof through her mane and gave her tail a big strong hug.

She was the Sweetie she was supposed to be.

"YES!"

Again- It was the red one who cried out. Now her face had the biggest smile, even though tears continued to flow down her cheeks.

"OH NO, I'M FREAKING YOU OUT TOO!" She cried out, and wailed around in overreaction. Sweetie could only stare as she wailed in self pity. Where the blue one had too little emotions, this red one had too many.

"So you see the problem now." Said the blue one, and pointed at the red one.

"This keeps interfering with out main objective"

"What objective?" Sweetie asked. "What is that?"

"To survive." The blue one said. Matter of factly. "To ensure our existence. Yet, because of this, we have time and time again thrown ourselves into situations that have been detrimental to us."

That's when Sweetie noticed something yellow entering her field of vision. She turned her head to see jet another Sweetie walked in on the scene. A transparent, almost golden Sweetie. A file was hovering in front of her (yet no magic aura was seen around her horn or the map she was carrying.) She nonchalantly flipped through the file, picked up a pair of papers, and threw it at Sweetie.

The papers sailed towards her before stopping mid air, right in front of Sweeties nose, and transformed into two video screens.

One of them showed a raging inferno. The other a running river. The red Sweetie cried out at the sight of these traumatic events.

"If not for these "emotions" we would never have put our self at such a risk." Said the blue one.

“If not for our feelings we would not have saved anypony. Then Branch would have drowned and all those ponies would have burned!” Cried the red one.

“True” Said the blue one. “But those events only brought us further pain.”

“O yes! If not for those STUPID PONIES, we would not have gotten hurt!”

“But it was not their fault. Branch could not have known that dam would collapse. And those mental handicapped ponies did not cause the fire. That was the mare.

“THAT MARE!” Cried the red one in absolute rage and horror. And then she just cried so that tears flowed in two red transparent waterfalls.

Sweetie just stared. Did she really look so pathetic when she was crying? Did she really bellow that loud?

The blue one continued to stared with her.

“We had the chance to rid ourselves of our memories. But we refused it”

“We could never rid ourselves of those memories” cried the red one. “They mean the world to us!”

Behind them The new yellow Sweetie walked over to a file cabinet that had appeared in the darkness. There she simply opened a drawer and started sorting the files with the same deadpanned look as an old librarian who had become bored with life.

She had another mark of text on her flank, this one but a single word.

Memory

She picked up a picture of Rarity and Sweetie at a picnic. She then lifted out a bundle of paper – visibly far too big to fit in the drawer it had been pulled out of. All of them the same picture of the same day.

The yellow one looked over at Sweetie with a disapproving frown.

“Don't blame us. We had no choice.” Cried the red one!

“Perhaps” Said the blue one “But those memories are also of a mare that have lied to us, about our true nature, for the entirety of our existence. And who attacked us.”

“It was probably not her fault!” Whimpered the red one. “She may just have given us a little push. In fact we probably jumped into her hoof! It wasn't even that hard, was it?!”

The blue ones pupils shrunk. She looked over at 'Memory', who just shook her head. The silent conversation between them seemed to go on for a while before the blue ones eyes returned to normal, and she answered.

“We don't know. A system crash occurred at the moment the barrier between the upper consciousness and the lower consciousness fell."

“We just want to get home!” Cried the red one.

Behind them the yellow Sweetie held up two pictures. Of Ponyville and the Carousel Boutique respectively.

“But we don't know where we are” Said the blue one.

The red one curled together and whimpered to herself. Sweetie dared to walk closer. Now that her red doppelganger had stopped wailing around she could actually read the text that this one had for a mark.

Emotional Processor

"MOMMY!"

The outcry caused Sweetie to jump back.

"MOMMY I'M SCARED!" the red one cried.

"Stop!" Sweetie said. "Just stop, all of you! who are you? And why are you acting like this?" She asked the red one in particular.

The 'Emotional Processor' stared up at her with the saddest eyes.

"Don't blame me - I'm just interpreting what 'that' says."

"That?" Sweetie questioned "What is 'that'?"

Both blue and red gestured out behind them. A small read thread was tied around the red Sweeties tail. And it extended away into the dark.

Following that thread they all eventually ended up at a wall. A wall made of crystal. A wall so wide and tall that it stretched beyond sweeties vision. To the Left, right, up and even down there was nothing but this massive vertical glacier, that seemed as big as the void itself. It was simply a wall in the void. And the thread simply vanished into that wall.

"Oh... that."

At the base of the wall stood another little sweetie. This one was a light transparent grey. And she was pounding her hoof into that wall. digging to free more and more of the red thread from the solid material with nothing but her hoof.

“Why are you doing that” Asked Sweetie.

“Because you told me” Said the gray one, without ever ceasing her rhythmic pounding, or even taking her eyes of the wall. a wall that seemed to hum with an echo that seemed to be giving the Red Sweetie a headache.

"No more... No more ... It hurts to much!" She pleaded. Before she stared screaming at the wall "LET ME IN! I MUST KNOW WHAT'S BEHIND YOU!"

Sweetie turned back to the grey one with the question that was on everyponys lips.

“What is behind that wall?”

“We don't know.” Answered the blue one.

“I hope its something good!“ Said the red one.

“Don't worry. It will come down eventually. There's only 74 percent left.”

Sweetie turned around. And what did she find standing next to her, if not another Sweetie. This one was a transparent white. and she had a series of wrist watches strapped to her every leg. Forelegs and backlegs alike. As if this wasn't enough she was also holding some form of measuring equipment – It looked like a long thermostat, with a little red ball inside. A ball that was constantly dropping.

“But our current energy will run out before then." the white one continued. " Even with most of us asleep.”

“Wait. Who is sleeping?” Sweetie wondered.

The white one waved her hoof out into the darkness. At first Sweetie did not see a thing. But then, she became aware of little lights that shone in front of her, like stars on the night sky. Except they weren't up in the sky. They were down below her.

Her eyes were drawn downwards. To a massive field of stars. small dots of colors that shone in every shade of every color of the rainbow, and every color excluded from the rainbow.

As she watched, more and more seemed to appear. Until the field stretched out in every direction, farther than her eyes could see.

Awestruck she started walking out across that field. Hovering above it like on a invisible platform

"What is that?" The red Emotional Processor said, reflecting the wonder Sweetie felt. "I am so curious."

Curiosity might have been what caused sweetie to descend down into that multi colored field. As she got closer, she saw that the dots of color were not stars, but Sweeties. Hundreds and maybe thousands of Sweeties in every color imaginable . All cuddled up and sleeping.

Sweetie walked down to their level and started walking amongst their rows.
Among them where individual sweeties labeled such things as “Airpump”, “voicebox” and "Stomach". There was a sweetie with crosses for eyes labeled “targeting systems” sleeping right next to a green sweetie with unusually large eyes labeled “Optical lenses.” Behind them slept a metal grey sweetie with two big blasters growing out of her back labeled “Weapon systems”.

They lay next to entire sections of identical dark red Sweeties, all with the label “Touch sensors”, Each and every one of them given a individual number from one to a hundred and beyond. At the far end of that section stood a hoof-full of Sweeties, seemingly wide awake. In their hooves they all held big translucent pink balls that they were frantically massaging. Together with them stood an equal amount of pink Sweeties labeled "regeneration system" and "simulators."
That seemed to be working equally hard making new pink balls.
Behind them was another field of the identically pink ones. Sleeping into their own hooves.

Among them walked a single purple Sweetie with a nurses hat, constantly checking on every-sweetie that she passed.

One Sweetie, labeled “Crying Sequence” was poking at one of these pink Sweeties. Upon closer inspection she could see that the sleeping sweetie was labeled “Tear Sacks Stimulation”. She would wake up in response to the other ones kicking, look around, shake her head, and go back to sleep.

“Warning. Tear sacks not found.” The Crying Sequence proclaimed out loud.

The yellow 'Memory' nodded with a sigh, and made another mark in her papers.

The crying sequence walked back to another sweetie named "Body functions" Who promptly sent her back to bother the Tear Sacking Nerve clusters again. She looked so lonely.

"That's because she is lonely. She used to have an ocean of little sequences to care for. Now she has none but that one." said the blue logic center. Her unblinking gaze renaming forever staring.

'Would you please just blink.' Sweetie thought, as the EP gritted its teeth "Its freaking me out."

"Blinking is inefficient and unnecessary" Said the Logic Center "It removes our vision for a tenth of a second."

The Emotional processor looked as angry as Sweetie was beginning to feel.

"I don't get you!" She yelled in the blue ones face "You say you want to get rid of them, but then you defend them! "

"I'm only stating the truth. Said the logic center."

Sweetie snorted and walked away, walked closer to the grey BFP. She was clutching something to her chest. It looked like some form of doll. A misshaped doll jagged doll that was made up of square blocks, and with a crude smile painted on a face that was flat - except for the one block that was suppose to be its muzzle.

"What is that?"

"That is your creation." Said the Logic center

Sweetie looked closer, and saw that on its square shaped flank was the words 'Heartbeat Subroutine'.

Another file was thrown from 'Memory' It stopped right before striking sweetie in the back of the head, and folded out into a big moving picture. Sweetie turned around and found herself looking down at her armored shell of a body.

It was a memory from not so long ago. A memory of Sweetie sitting alone in the forest. Listening to her own heartbeat. Or the lack of one.

She tried to make herself a new heartbeat from memory. But did she even remember what it was like to be a pony?

She listened to that steady rhythmic pumping from her chest. It sounded wrong to her heightened hearing. She quickly turned the sensitivity down to the right levels. But it still didn't help. It was not just the fact that the sound no resonated through a metal frame , it was not just that the metal armor made it echoing like in a hollow cave. It was to rhythmic, to steadfast, to... Robotic. It didn't sound natural at all.

At the time she had just been happy that she had managed to restore something the thought lost. She had said that it was close enough. But that had been a lie. Close enough was not good enough.

She saw the code that she had woven from scratch and stored in her BFP. That crude jagged little doll? Was it the best she could do?

Did she really not remember what her own heartbeat was supposed to sound like?

That was when an orange little Sweetie had appeared beside her, She was running around with a magnifying glass, repentantly mumbling: “Scanning, scanning, scanning.”

She had a weird mark of a magnifying glass and the text "Search engine" on her flank

'Search engine' looked at the memory through her magnifying glass, then at Sweetie, and back again. She started crawling over all the percent sweeties giving them all a proper examination while constantly repeating "scanning" in her high pitched voice. She finally came to a stop at the yellow Sweetie. And started going through her files. She descended into the file cabinet in a way only Pinkie Pie should be able to do. And closed the drawer behind her.

The file cabinet rustled around for a while before the scanners high pitched voice was heard again.

"MATCH FOUND!"

"What?"

The orange sweetie popped her head back up from the file cabinet (from a different drawer then the one she had entered) holding a file in her hoof.

She threw that file up in the air, and it exploded like a green firework. Into tendrils of ones and zeros that slowly fell down towards the heard instead of evaporating. The tendrils came down around sweetie, stopping their decent at eye level, and every tendril transformed into a square, and every square contained a picture. A moving picture a scene that sweetie had seen with her own eyes.

These were memories. Her memories. Memories of many a times she ha felt her heart race filled her mind, memories of running the school gallop, Of the sisterhooves social, of countless Cmc activities that had left her sweating and panting and with a heart thrumming hard in her chest.

She pushed the aside one by one, as she descended deeper into this gallery of memories. She looked past all the sweating exercises, to a time before Ponyville. To a simple memory when mother had let her borrow a stethoscope to listen to her own heart.

She laid on her mothers chest and listened to that steady thumping coming from inside her chest. She asked mommy if she had swallowed a drum-sett. Mommy laughed and explained that it was not a drum she heard, but her heart. All pony's had one, and all animals too (at least every animal she knew)

"Does I have a heart mommy?"

Mommy smiled and went to the bathroom, to get a small doctors bag for household medication. From it she pulled a stethoscope, and plugged it into Sweeties ears. Placing the cold metal disk to her chest made her yelp. But that little discomfort was soon forgotten as the thrumming in her chest became loud and clear in her ears.

Looking at the memory now made Sweetie wanna cry. Such a deceit it had been. Such a lie. and at the same time. She wanted nothing more than to hug that mare in the picture, who was close enough for her to reach out and touch with her own bare hooves.

But looking past the veil of lies she cold see the code that coursed through the simulator instead of blood. The energy that made it function and the settings that held the rhythm steady.

Sweetie reached out into the memory, and it evaporated into code. Code that swirled around her hoof like the energy of magic.

She looked over to the lonely body function processor. And at the crude little misshaped 'Heartbeat' that she held in her hooves.
Sweetie reached out for them. and the code that swirled around her hoof sailed away towards the pair. It entered their bodies and merged with them. And before Sweeties eyes, the little misshaped foal started to grow. Its jagged edges smoothed out. Its crude stale face became alive. It blinked. And before any-Sweetie knew it. It was no longer a foal. But a full grown filly sitting in the 'Processors' lap.

"Unbelievable! " The Red Emotional Processor cried out!

Sweetie didn't know what to feel. Overjoyed that there had been a code hidden in her memory all along. Relief That she had been able to restore what was lost. Shocked that it worked. Cry tears of joy. Regardless of what she felt - The red EP acted out all of the emotions for her.

Sweetie looked back at the file cabinet, where the orange and yellow sweetie now both got busy throwing one file after the other up into the air. The void was suddenly filled with green fireworks as memory after memory exploded into existence. Memories of her breathing sweating, jogging, shaking, trotting, freezing, sleeping, yawning and pretty much every other body function that she could think of.

Before long, the 'BFP' was surrounded by an flurry of fillies, ranging from 'hunger subroutine' to 'blushing sequence'.
The gray BFP looked over at sweetie with a tired, jet for the first time satisfied look in her eyes. The look of a mother with way too many foals, mouthed the silent words "Thank you."

The red 'EP' let out a long and heart melting "Awwwwwwwwwwww" And smiled for the first time since Sweetie had seen her.

But Sweetie did not stay focused on the scene for long. Something else had come to mind.

Not far from the lonely BFP laid another filly that caught Sweeties eyes. Maybe it was that this one had a color scheme that made her think of sweet chocolate mint that drew her attention. But then she noticed the mark on the brown ones flank, and her attention peeked.

"Taste Sensor"

Sweetie stared at the brown copy of herself lying there. Sleeping, deactivated, amongst all the others. The 'emotional processor' stared even harder as she mimicked sweeties shock and disbelief.

She did not understand. She thought for sure that one was deleted. Gone for good. Destroyed by the evil mechanic.

"The component is still there" Said the Logic Center "The data and sequences that runs it are not. Not since you deleted it."

"ME?" Sweetie cried.

"Who else allowed them to be removed? We did. We wanted them to be removed. And besides, we needed to conserve energy."

"Its true" Said the white one "We had to conserve energy."

Sweetie looked back and forth between the two.

"No It cant be my fault It just cant. He is the one to blame. I just wanted... I just wanted..."

The yellow Sweetie held up a placard that read "Grass Is gross.". The Emotional processor sat down in depression, the smile on her face washed away by new tears.

"To end the pain" the Logic center stated, matter of factly.

"But I have changed my mind since then. I don't want to loose my sense of taste. I will fix this!" She cried. And began to shake the chocolate brown doppelganger, trying to wake her up. Her logic center did nothing to help, she just continuously stated that it was pointless. Sweeties tongue was gone anyway, so there would be no point in waking her sensors.

At the mentioning of tongue. the emotional processor started crying again. And over to the side 'Crying sequence' started kicking at the 'tear sack simulator' a little harder.

Sweetie ignored them all. She pulled up Taste Sensors eyebrows, and was met not with a pair of eyes. But with two spinning circles.
This caused Sweetie to jump back. But the eyelids did not fall down. The circles continued to spin in the open brown eye-sockets, until the doppelgangers body stirred. the eyelids closed. And when they opened again, it was a pair of normal brown eyes that greeted all the gathered. (as normal as a pair of transparent eyes can be.)

A long big tongue rolled out of the brown ones mouth. And she panted, slowly and longingly, before she spoke.

"So ... hungry..." she panted, barely more than a whisper. "So ... empty ..."

She began to wave her hooves after Sweetie.

"Why ... Why don't you feed me ... why wont you give me anything?" She pleaded.

"I... I can't." Sweetie answered. More than a little distressed. "I... I don't know what to give you"

The chocolate brown taste sensors looked like she wanted to cry.

"Don't you remember? Don't you remember what it all tasted like?"

Remember?

Sweetie looked over at the yellow 'memory', who was sitting at a desk that had appeared out of nowhere, reading a book without a care in the world. She had an idea, If every deleted body function sequence could be restored from raw memory - then why not taste?

She coughed in her hoof, drawing the attention of the bored librarian. Who immediately pulled out the many many copies of that picnic. And threw one of them at Sweetie.

Sweetie caught it. And as she did. The picture evaporated. A small, soundless explosion as the image was reduces to a thousand little green fragments. Fragments in the shapes of ones and zeros.

The numbers drew themselves back together. And they reformed into an ice cream. A transparent green cone with three orbs made up entirely ones and zeroes.

Sweetie reached out and touched it. Took it in her fetlock. She turned back to the starving taste sensor. And without really thinking about what all of it meant. She handed the Ice cream to her brown doppelganger.

Taste Sensor dug into the treat without restraint, and as the code flowed into her, Sweetie felt like she was back at that picnic, with a mouth full of vanilla ice cream. She could feel it, just the same as she had felt it then.

"That is because it is the same" Said the Logic Center. "Its a memory file, a recording of all the data that our taste sensors picked up that day."

She looked back at the slobbering brown one. "Data that is now being replayed."

Over from her filing cabinet, the yellow memory held up a picture of a tape recorder, and another of a tape, she put the two together to form an image of the recorder now playing music. The same music that would always be played when the same recording was being pulled through it.

The brown taste senors found something in her treat. She put her hoof down into it and pulled out a new string of code like a string of spaghetti. The string instantly hardened into an arrow, that she threw over to 'Body Functions. The Arrow landed at the grey ones hooves. and it instantly started to grow into a pony. It reformed into a filly with a big muzzle basket over her face. However, this Sweetie immediately released all restrictions and removed the basket. Just as it had, once a certain substance was detected by the taste sensors.

The Logic Center could just shake her head.

"Why restore these frailties?" she asked.

"Why? Because they are ours!" cried the EP.

"They serve no purpose, other than to limit our true potential."

"No purpose? They are what makes us a pony!"

"Yet - that is what we are not. And is not our inability to accept that what has brought us here?"

"And they consume too much energy!" Cried the white measurement system, as the hoard of fillies ran up to her and started taking bites out of the big cake that she was suddenly holding. Despite complaining, she patiently let every single foal have a piece of the cake before they all ran back to their motherly 'BFP'.

The cake in the white Sweeties hoof transformed into the measurement stick, in which the ball had now dropped a noticeable inch.

"The energy is suppose to go over there" she wailed. And pointed - where else - behind Sweetie.

Sweetie turned around, and saw a long line of identically silver shining Sweeties. Each with a basket full of bricks on their back, and each with the brand of "Distribution system" on their flanks. The line stretched back further than Sweetie could see into the void. But the front of the line had appeared quite close to her.

There stood a muscular Sweetie, glowing in a deep blue light. She was wearing a construction workers helmet on her head with the label “Repair systems”. and she was currently in the middle of constructing an infinity long wall from the bricks that the long line of 'Distribution systems” were handing her before wandering off into the unknown.

“HOWE! I've never worked so hard in ma life!” The Repair system proclaimed, seemingly just happy to be working. Her voice had a strangely country sounding jingo to it. The yellow memory Sweetie held up a image of Applejack and another placard that said "synonymous."

“But the energy is almost out.” The white sweetie complained while waving measuring equipment in the big blue repair systems face. She was now waving a second meter on her other hoof.

“And the buffer is almost depleted” She said as she pulled up a third meter on her back hoof. She was now balancing on one back hoof holding three meters like some circus act.

“We need to find more energy” Said the logic center.

"WE are going to shut down!" Screamed the red one "We are going to shut down! We must wake up and find more energy now!"

The purple Sweetie with the nurse's cap appeared beside them, tapped on a microphone and proclaimed.

"Start up sequence initiated."

The measurement Sweetie, who saw still balancing on one leg, fell on her butt.

"What?" she shouted, a look of panic forming on her face "But we don't have the energy! We haven't even finished the repairs yet! how are we gonna be able to find more energy with a broken neck?"

The repair system walked over, branching a hammer and tilting its helmet.

"What? The neck? Oh' I fixed that ages ago. What I'm working on now is all the other stuff."

"What?" Cried the measurement system. "Why didn't you tell me!?"

"You told me to tell y'all when I was finished. And I ain't. there are hundreds of little scrapes left"

The hoard of sub-sequences returned to the white one. All crying "WE WANT MORE!"

'Measurement' told them all that they could have no more and sent them back, telling 'BFP' to send them to sleep. 'Logic center' agreed while EP disagreed, and the cacophony soon rose as every-sweetie started screaming at each other. Then they all turned to her and started asking what should be done.

They all kept telling her things. Asking her things. The yellow one kept hoofing pictures into her face, The red and the blue one kept trying to tell her what to do and the red one kept crying and screaming. The white measurement system joined into the lament with "Will somepony please think of the energies?!"

And there was always more of them. As more and more of the Sweeties started waking up and came to join the herd. Pulling, yelling, punching and climbing over each other, all trying to her attention.

Sweetie wanted to run away, but her path was blocked by yet more sweeties. Everywhere there was just Sweeties. Above her, behind her, below her. to the left and right and down in front. Everywhere a thousand Sweeties in all the colors of the rainbow and every color absent from the rainbow.

She tried to curl up into a little ball, placing her hooves over her ears and closing her eyes, but it did not help. The cacophony rose as they all leaned in so close that sweetie could feel their muzzles on her body - From every direction at once.

“STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”

In an instant, the cacophony ended as every sweetie shut their mouth and ceased with their pushing. They all turned to stared at her with big questioning eyes.

As Sweetie looked out at them. At the thousands of multi colored copies of herself. She felt like the spokesmare on her lectern. Before her , the mumbling mess had ceased and every-sweetie had suddenly become very neat and organized, like an army, a workforce waiting for orders from their foremare.

And boy did She have a speech for them. they were all the voices in her head, and she had only one thing to say to them.

"Stop! Just stop! Stop asking me questions! Stop talking to me! Stop pestering me and bothering me! I don't want you in my head!"

All the Sweeties looked at each other. The yellow one held up a placard saying “Error – does not compute.”

Sweetie gritted her teeth (and the EP did the same) what was there not to understand?

"I... I don't want you here! Get out of my head! Go away! Disappear! All of you! Just Leave me alone!”

"You want to ... Delete us again?" said a small little Sequence foal, flashing the biggest puppy eyes.

Sweetie had never felt so uncomfortable looking at a smaller version of herself.

"N..no. I'm just ... I just want to be alone! Can't you all go somewhere else!?"

The army just stared at her. Then they all spoke in perfect unison.

“We can not leave."

"Why?" She asked them.

"Because - We are you.” The mass echoed.

"No! You can't be."

“We are you!”

"No! You are not"

“We are you!”

"No!"

"We are you!"

"NO!"

"WE ARE YOU!"

"NO! You are not me! That does not make any sense! I'm me! Not you. You can't be me if I'm me!"

Before any-sweetie could come up with an answer. A little sweetie with unusually large ears came running down the front row of the assembly. her mark was one that read "microphones". She skittered to a stop in front of the hustings.

“I just heard something!" She proclaimed! "Its an unusually loud sound!”

Every-sweetie in the assembly turned their ears outwards, listening intently after something.

“it sound horrible!” Cried the red one.

"Its getting closer" yelled the microphones!

"Initiating Panicking sequence" Screamed the body functions!

The whole assembly erupted as sweeties started running everywhere, screaming that they needed to boot up this and restart that.

"DELAY THAT ORDER" Shouted the Logic Center. "We yet need visual conformation."

She turned to sweetie.

"I think it's time to wake up."

The Sweetie felt a hoof on her shoulders as the purple one punched her way to her side. Still holding her microphone.

"Wake up sequence initiated." She said in Sweetie's ear, and pointed upwards.

She looked up, and saw a green Sweetie with unusually large eyes descending down towards her. Flying without wings. Sweetie barely had time to see that the green one had a mark that read "Optical lenses" before she landed right next to her, and put her hooves around her waist.

"Come on, princess. Lets get you a front row seat."

She threw Sweetie up on her back, Then the others rushed her position and started lifting her up above their heads. Then more sweeties started lifting those sweeties above their heads. They formed a pony-pyramid. A pyramid that grew and grew as more building blocks were added from below.

Sweetie found herself rapidly ascending upwards. Down below her, the fields of multi colored Sweeties started rapidly became so distant, that they once again became only dots of color in her eyes.

The dots started going to work. Forming lines and tendrils that swirled around each other until everything melted together in a rainbow swirl of organized chaos. The swirl pool formed a pillar that shot up below sweeties hooves, Carrying her higher and higher into the void with ever increasing speed.

Sweetie didn't even scream. She was somewhere between awestruck and terrified. Stunned by the weirdness of it all.

She kept ascending until a light greeted her. She looked up and saw that the void was opening up above her. A gigantic rift that stretched as far as she could see in either direction started to widen, and from it shone the brightest light. the rift continued to widen, pushing the void aside, opening it up like a dome until the void had vanished and nothing put light remained.

-:: Start up sequence complete ::-

Author's Note

Alternative name for this chapter:
'Sum of all parts'

Chapter 18. Scrapmetal

Sweetie awoke to the sound of heavy machinery.

She did not know how long she had been out, or what had happened to her in the meantime. She had been locked in herself. Crying, and waiting for her body to pull itself back together.

When her eyes reactivated, she was greeted with the sight of a wasteland. Piles of all kinds of imaginable rusty junk stretched out into the rainy darkness.

She must be in a junkyard. This must be where the ponies with the wagon must have taken her. They must have assumed that she was just a pile of junk that they had ran over on the road.

As she watched, the rows of junk flowed past her. Like rusty icebergs flowing down a muddy river. Like tombstones over all things broken and lost. things that had been repaired until they could be repaired no more, Or maybe simply thrown out and replaced with something newer and better.

“So it is here that all things metal ended their lives." she thought as she looked out across the scrapyard. Only ponies received proper burials. Mechanical things were left to rust in heaps in the rain.

Not her though. She did not belong amongst any junk. She would not let this be her fate. She would live forever. She would continue to exist. It was her prime directive or something.

She tried to get up. But her body would not move. For a second she wondered if she was still paralyzed, but her systems told her that her body wasn't broken any more. The connection ports in her neck had been restored and she could feel her body once more. Feel as the electricity ruched up from her battery and provided her mind with the juice it needed to think.

Think about that piles of junk does not float like icebergs, Or that there was no river for anything to be floating in. The rain might have converted the dirt field between the piles into a muddy soup. But it was still solid ground.

Her place however, was not solid. She lay not in that muddy soup. Her spirit-level balance system was shaking and her ears picked up a grinding of wheels and machinery.

No. The junk piles weren't moving – she was.

Sweetie turned her head around, her newly repaired neck only produced a slight creak as she did so, and she found herself staring up at a mountain of debris.

It became instantly clear why she could not move. She lay at the base of a massive pile of rusty, industrial sized pile of rubble. Trapped, with only her head sticking out.

She turned her head the other way, and found herself staring down a long black belt. At several intervals laid even more piles of junk. And beyond them, at the end of the belt was the giant maw of a machine. A machine with two giant cylinders full of teeth. Cylinders that spun around and chewed up anything that fell into its maw.

With horror she realized where she was. On an conveyor belt. Heading straight for that gaping maw of death. Just like Rampony Mactails had been in that movie when he encountered his first Bloodbot on the scrapyard he worked at. It had been the movies first jump scare when the metallic beast jumped out of a junk pile and tackled Rampony onto the conveyor belt, where the two ended up wrestling.

“I am not junk. You are!” He had shouted as he threw the bot of him and into the grinding maw. He had swiftly and smoothly rolled of the side while the Bloodbot was very graphically chewed to pieces. Like a representation of what was soon to be her fate.

“No!” Sweetie shouted in her still broken voice. “I AM NOT JUNK!”

She tried to pull herself away. But the pile held her in place. She wriggled around and managed to push enough debris away to get her forehooves under her. she tried to crawl out. but her belly was pinned hard against the rubber belt. And her metallic hooves could not find any grip on the slippery wet rubber.

Unable to crawl away, all she could do was push, and push up. Trying to lift the pile of her. But It would not budge.

The crusher maw roared as another big pile of junk was devoured.

Panicking, she pushed harder and harder. Harder than any pony had pushed before. She directed all energy to her forelegs legs, trying to make herself rise.

-:: !Warning! // Safety limits overshot by 50% // 100% // 200% ::-

The pistons in her legs screamed in protest as they reached their maximum capacity. Yet she pushed more energy into them. To force them to push harder. She would grit her teeth from the strain, but that energy was needed elsewhere.

The crusher continued to roar, its maw getting ever closer. It was a deafening noise, yet Sweetie refused to turn off her ears. She let the sound of her approaching doom fuel her efforts to escape.

All safety limits were turned off, all locks were thrown out the window. The repair system was starting to kick in were starting to creak from the pressure. She did not care. She had to get out of here even if she would break herself in the process. She would not be recycled. And if she had been able to rip an iron fence from its sockets, she must be strong enough to lift a little garbage.

Finally the pile started to move. And she was able to create a gap large enough to get her trapped back-legs under her and help with the pushing. She managed to rise, inch by inch, lifting the pile over her as she did. but, A few small pieces of junk fell off the pile, but it was not enough to ease the main weight. It was too heavy and wide to shake off.

She could hear her straightened legs creaking under her. Her hooves were sinking into the rubber belt, but alas – not far enough to break it.

She looked over to the edge of the conveyor. The term so close yet so far away came to mind as she carefully raised her left leg, and put it in front of her, Her other three legs creaked as she did it. And it felt like she was pulling the pile with her. It was attached to her, like a turtles shell. The wideness of her armor made it impossible for her to just slink out. No matter. As long as she got moving, she'd be able to tilt herself and the pile over the conveyor belts edge.

An extra large bar of steel (that looked like it would go into a building) fell into the maw, causing it to hack and stutter. The conveyor jerked and stopped in its tracks in tune with the struggling machine. The jerk made sweeties loose her balance, Her right leg gave out under her and she fell back down. Her armor screamed as it took the bulk of the weight that threatened to flatten her.
The conveyor remained still as the cruncher maw struggled with the solid piece of metal. Sweetie prayed that it would choke on it. But eventually it managed to chew its way through it. And the band started moving at regular speed again.

Her struggle was not in vain. She had managed to get her front hooves out from under the pile. And She had managed to get herself closer to the right side of the conveyor belt. Just close enough for her right hoof to almost reach the edge.

Almost... Almost … If she could just reach it with her right hoof she would be able to pull herself off this death trap.

Sweetie stretched as far as she could, cursing how short she was and how bulky her armor had to be. She forced every synthetic muscle in her body to stretch out into its full length – and more, trying to make herself just that extra inch longer, . She thought she heard something creak and bend, unsure if it was the armor or something else. But she managed to get her right hoof over the edge.

-:: Synthetic piston unresponsive // Right fetlock disc dislocated ::-

Her hoof would not close around the edge, it would not move at all.

She was broken.

Sweetie looked back ahead and saw that she was almost at the maw. The second last pile in front of her fell into the crushers teeth, the metal got torn to shreds and swallowed by the hungry machine.

Sweetie jerked and twisted trying to get loose. But the rest of her body was stuck. She tried to kick with her back legs. But something held them down.
There was only one more pile before her, then she was next, and she would not be able to get free in time.

In desperation she thought of her master blasters. She tried to extend her blasters but the ports on her back would not open. Her back was still trapped underneath the pile.

With horror she realized the ports might have gotten stuck. All the rubble was holding them down.

No. She had to open them.

Sweetie went limp as she redirected her energy - pushed it all from her legs to that one mechanism that controlled the ports on her back

The energy levels rose - 100% - 200% - 300% - Far above any setting as all that she had was got focused into that one part of herself. She did not know if such a little piece might snap or explode as she overloaded it. But the pile of junk started to rustle. And finally the energy built up so strong that it pushed the ruble aside. The lid on her left side flew up and the energy canon came out. The magically shrunken weapon instantly expanded to its full size, knocking all debris aside with an explosive force as it ballooned its way out into its full mass.

Sweetie turned it towards the metal grinder just as the pile in front of her was devoured. Now she had a clear shot. Targeting circles appeared in her vision. It might only be a single blaster, but it would be enough. She aimed straight into the gaping maw, and fired.

The first shot hit dead on. It removed a big portion of its teeth, but did not slow it down. She fired again. Off to the side where the cylinder was attached to the frame. One time. Two times. On the third she managed to hit the upper cylinder straight in the axle. The heavy toothed cylinder crashed down into its lower hanging sibling. Teeth and sparks flew everywhere, and the machine screamed as it chewed itself apart. And the whole conveyor belt came to an emergency stop.

If she still could, she would be panting and sweating. As it was she just laid still for a few seconds, to see that the belt wasn't gonna start moving towards that mouth again. The screams of the metal maw lasted only a few seconds before something inside the giant machine broke, and it fell silent as smoke rose from its interior. Sweetie remained, still and with her mind on the mental trigger, until she was sure that the sound of the rain was all that remained. She then retracted the blaster and proceeded to wiggle her way out of the scrap-pile.

***

Having finally freed herself, Sweetie jumped off the conveyor belt. It was quite the drop, as the belt was positioned a few meters above ground. But she reckoned her body could handle it.

Her right hoof gave out under her as she landed. And she fell, face first into the muddy ground.

She patted herself on the head, Intending to pull up her helmet, but found herself grasping for nothing. Her headgear was gone. And the rain now splashed on her naked iron scalp. The water ran down her face, into the open neck of her armor. And poured out through the cracks in her legs as she rose.

She looked down on her front leg. The hoof was bent in a weird angle and would not respond to her movements. Somewhere underneath her armor, she could hear the ticking of a broken piston as it tried in vain to retract. It was stuck.

She looked at the rest of her legs. The armor itself had been dented slightly. It looked like she might have begun to compress under all that weight. It might be her mind playing tricks on her, but she felt like she had gotten even shorter than she already was.

In between the cracks in her armor - She could vaguely make out a faint flickering blue light as the repair program did its best to straighten out the cracks on her cybernetic muscles and joints. She waited for the program to do its thing. But no progress seemed to come. And the flickering only worsened.

-:: Internal systems check // Repair systems efficiency decreasing // Restoration energy depleting // Magical buffer depleting ::-

OH COME ON!

In frustration, she rammed her broken hoof into the ground, it penetrated the mud with a few centimeters before striking a rock with a muffed 'clang'. Sweetie pulled it out of the mud. Her hoof was no longer dented. Instead it just hung loosely at the end of her leg. And the clicking inside had ceased as the piston had given up and failed completely.

She tried to move her hoof. She was able to raise it, but not move it around. and when the piston that held her hoof up let go, it would hang limp and broken again.

She carefully raised her hoof into a neutral position and locked her piston into place. She took a few careful, limping steps. Adjusting the tension in her remaining synthetic muscles until she had found the right rhythm. She might not be able to move her hoof around. But she would at least be able to walk without tripping over it.

She walked over to the closest pile of junk, and ripped out a piece of a toaster with her teeth, then proceeded to furiously chew down on the heaters.

She had last eaten but a small thin horse figure of the evil mechanic's own making. But her systems required more than that to fix her broken insides. It required a far wider arrange of minerals and metals for components who's names Sweetie wasn't even gonna try to pronounce. She required copper for her wires and plastic for their protective coating, which had began to tear up around her exposed joints. If they failed, the rain might actually start doing serious damage. But there was no plastic or rubber in the heaps of junk before her. Just metal, rust and more metal. And the conveyor belt hung a good few meters out of reach. There was no way she would be able to climb the pillars that held it up, and blasting it down would only jeopardize her dwindling energy reserves.

A few cogwheels, tin cans and rusty roofing sheets also went down. Her belly rumbled like a cement mixer as it grinded down the raw diet. She could only hope the things would contain some variety of substances.

-:: Anger levels dropping ::-

-:: Sorrow levels rising ::-

-:: Anger levels rising ::-

-:: Depression levels rising ::-

Sweetie felt... weird. Her insides were in a turmoil. Her Emotional Processor started acting downright schizophrenic as it tried to process the mixture of hate sorrow and regret that emulated from her Heart-Drive.

-:: Why? Why did you never tell me? ::-

Her thoughts returned home. To those that called themselves her family. What was she to them? If not for them she might never had been in this position. Could they not at least have told her she could eat metal?

Years without consuming any raw materials was years that her restoration system had to work with a depleting buffer. It might have been fine when it was just the minor wear and tare bough on by age and activities. But not the massive amounts of damage she had to endure now.

The intensity of her chewing slowed down until she could no longer stuff her face with the raw material. The energy to do so war still there … And yet … not. Her body could not emulate it but she felt … weak, spent, used up, and so very, very tired. Not in any physical sense. She had conquered all physical weakness. But mentally. She had suffered worse in these last few days than she had in her entire life. She did not want to make a list of all the things she had lost – for she knew it would be a long one.

She thought about what the mechanic had said about her growth protocol. At this rate she was never going to grow up, as all her buffer was spent trying to fix her increasingly worsening damage.

A half eaten cog wheel fell out of her mouth as a shivering sequence started in her yaw.
She sat down in front of the scrap pile and ran her hooves across her face, wiping her ever-open eyes clean. And stared up into the dark sky. The raindrops fell into her eyes, and ran down her cheek. It was not any real tears. But it was close enough.

“Please ... “ She said. ”No more … Please … don't take anything more away from me ...”

-:: Crying sequence initiated // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found ::-

-:: Does crying solve anything? ::-

Her logic center asked.

No – It did not.

Anger on the other hoof. Anger was good. Anger made her do stuff. If she could choose which emotion she could feel right not. It would be hate. Hate against those that had robbed her of everything that made her a real filly. Of her friends that had blown her leg of. Of a family that had lied to her. A sister that had hit her. Of a foal that had made her drown. A house full of crazy ponies that had burned her. A mechanic that had deleted her. A tower that had taken her voice and a pair of stallions that had taken her tail ...

-:: !Warning! // Hate levels rising ::-

Just thinking about it all made the desired emotion kick in.
She was not giving up. She would endure. She would remain. She was gonna fix herself. She was gonna take it all back by force if she had to. She would ensure her existence.

She was gonna start by finding her helmet. Then she would find those two that had taken her tail, find whoever ran this place, and do Celestia knows what to them.

-:: Combat mode initiated ::-

***

Finding anyone to do anything to proved a difficult task as Sweetie tried to make her way through the scrapyard. The piles stretched out into long thin corridors, and simply walking straight ahead down one of them had soon found her staring at a dead end. She walked back and tried another passage, and soon found herself in a labyrinth of rust and steel.

Sweetie quickly lost sight of the crusher and the conveyor belt. Only the compass in her head guided her in the general direction of away from them. Her infrared scanners swept her surroundings and picked out anything that might serve as a landmark. - A broken tricycle - a heap of rusty wagon spokes - a big plow - No intersection looked exactly the same, no two rows of junk were identical, and with that. Sweetie started to make up a map of this maze.

It was clear that this maze had not come to be by accident. The rows were a little too straight and narrow, a little too claustrophobic. Somepony had to have stacked them like this. But why? Would that not inconvenience them from getting all this to the crusher?

The possibility of just blasting her way out existed, but sweetie figured she only had the energy for a few more shots, and did not want to risk wasting it. Simply climbing over the obstacle did neither seem like the best idea, the walls were high, at least two wagons stacked on top of each other, and they looked a little to unstable. Sweetie did not fancy getting buried again.

There was a rumble as a stack of broken wrenches fell from their place. Sweetie jumped at the sudden noise. Were the walls about to crumble? She locked behind her. The corridor laid empty ans silent aside from the rain hammering the rusty buckets. The walls seemed as stable as they had been before. Jet she felt like they were leaning in over her. Had corridor always been this thin? Or was it just this one?

-:: Fear levels rising ::-

Her Logic Center told her not to panic. The walls looked exactly like they had before.
But then. What had caused the wrenches to fall?
Was there somepony in here with her?

Sweetie looked back at the pile, and jumped again.

Not somepony - But something. Up from the pile emerged a cylinder, roughly the size of a hoofball. It rose from the wrenches on eight thin legs made out of steel wire and kitchen knifes. A camera sat above it, its lens regarding her with a faint light blinking in its depths.

The two stared at each other as the mechanical spider stumbled around on its knife legs. It picked up one of the wrenches in its front legs, then scurried away on the other six.

Sweetie looked after it as it disappeared around the corner. Then she turned around and headed in the other direction. A little faster than she had been going before. She wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible, for she was obvious that she was not alone here. Where had that thing even come from? Were there more of them? Suddenly the rusty walls seemed even closer than they had before. Sweetie increased her speed further. turning corner after corner, hoping to not get stuck in a dead end. The last thing she wanted was to be cornered by an army of those thing. What would they even do to her if she was? And why had her weapon systems not activated upon the sight of the strange thing?

A piece of code rushed through her mind. Telling her that her 'Stranger Danger' subroutine only was meant to trigger upon visual conformation of nearby equine shapes ... Like the one in front of her now.

-:: What? ::-

-:: STRANGER DANGER // STRANGER DANGER ::-

Sweetie skittered to stop as the blasters popped out from her back. But the slippery muddy ground made her slide like a skier on snow towards the figure had emerged at the opening of the corridor. A slim, almost skinny pony with a pale coat in the color of urine.
In his hoof he held a stopwatch. He clicked the watch to a stop by pressing the button against his prosthetic right foreleg, just as Sweetie came to a stop before him.

"Fasssscinating!" He said with a snake like hiss.

Sweetie stared at the figure in front of her. And he stared back at her with a wide grin in which every gap between his brown teeth was visible. He continued to grin even as the blasters warning started to warm up.

"YOU!" Sweetie shouted. Trying her best to sound intimidating, which should not be that hard, given how her voice sounded , and that he emergence from a scrapyard must seem similar to a certain movie.

However. This stranger might not have seen that movie, as he continued to stare at her with his poisonous green eyes.

"Yesss?" He answered in a low hissing voice.

"Ummmm..."

Sweetie had no idea what she should say next. The stallion seemed completely unconcerned by the who big energy weapons that were pointed at him. If anything Sweetie was more scared of him than he was of her. Far more.

She gave him a good looking over as he silently awaited her response. His prosthetic right leg seemed to be made from the junk in the yard with screws and bolts visible holding the many metal plates together, every piece of a different shape, form and level of rust.
He wore no clothing against the rain except for a familiar looking helmet that covered his head. From under it, a ragged, striped mane hanged down over his left eye, every stripe the color of puke green.

The sickening combination of his color scheme almost distracted Sweetie from the fact that he was wearing her helmet.

“Give that back!” she shouted and pointed towards his head.

He tilted his head as he gave her a strange look.

“Fasssinating” He repeated.

She was gonna give him to the count of three. But, without any argument, he dropped the stopwatch, removed the helmet and handed it to her. His mane instantly flattened by the rain. And from between puke green stripes, an extra pointy looking horn emerged.

Weird ... But not as weird as the fact that he used his prosthetic leg. The thing creaked as he removed his headgear and stretched it out towards her. Every loose sitting bolt bending as he did.

A bit surprised, an more than a little unnerved by his behavior and appearance Sweetie reached out and grabbed the helmet.

It was then that she got a good look at the surprisingly agile and functional metal leg that remained stretched out to her.

Its functionality might not have been so surprising after all, given that it was not metal through and through.
She might have thought so at first first. But looking closer on it revealed that there was flesh between those plates. Naked flesh, seemingly stripped of all fur, and with power cables coming in and out of it. The rusty metal plates were attached directly into the meat by screws and bolts, or in some cases shoved in partially in under the skin. Skin that was burned and stitched so bad there seemed to be nothing but scar tissue between the metal. Scar tissue mixed with wires and misscolored by rust. In the joint and fetlock sat screws and metal sticks that seemed to go straight true the bone. Worse still was that blood dripped from a few places, wounds having seemingly been opened by the very motions he just made

Sweetie nearly screamed. She dropped the helmet and jumped back away from the horrid sight.

The stallion just stood there, still grinning and holding his mutilated leg out towards her.

“Fasssinating.” He hissed as he tilted his head the other way.

"W...what have you done to your leg!?" Sweetie stammered

The grinning stallion looked down on it.

"Pain." He answered.

"I can tell you must be in pain ... But why do that ? Why ruin your own leg?" She asked. Glad her stomach could not turn

"To know that I am alive." He said.

Sweetie looked down on her own damaged foreleg, and remembered her own peril.

The blasters hummed again.

"I... I need some ... things" She said. Trying to sound authority "Do you have any power station in this place ... I mean ... You must have. Otherwise you would not have that 'machine' running."

The stallion nodded.

"Well ... Take me to it!"

A nervous second passed, as the stallion continued to stared at her, without the grin ever melting from his face.

-:: Nervousness levels rising ::-

Did this stallion even understand the danger he was in? Did he even know what power was held in the two cannon pointed at him? The possibility existed that he could not know that the blasters were weapons. But what then? Did he think of them as giant dubbstep speakers? Funny as that might have been, there was still there was a mechanical talking filly in the room. Yet this stranger did not even seem surprised. In fact, his expression never changed from the grin that was stretched across his face. It did not even look like a real smile, Sweetie had seen Pinkie smile impossibly wide, but still made it seem real. This was nothing like that. And Sweetie really did not want to follow him anywhere. But, If he was gonna take her to a power supply ... she had little choice.

"... Please?"

"Of course" He said, and turned to lead the way.

Sweetie picked up her helmet and followed.

As she walked behind his snot green tail, she got a chance to look at his mark. Or what would have been his mark. Instead of any symbol his flank was branded by another missing patch of fur, revealing scar tissue that looked like it had been very recently been scrubbed clean with a wire brush.

Sweetie could not help but stare at the naked piece of torn up skin.

"Why...?"

"To see if it comes back."

***

They did not walk long before they came upon a hill. And on top of that hill there was light coming from a porch. On top of that hill sat a shack constructed from the same rusty metal that surrounded it. Making it next to impossible to spot amongst the piles of junk if not for the porch that decorated it.

The porch itself was lit up, big enough for a small house and decorated with all manners of old junk in various levels of deconstruction - All neatly organized on hundred of shelves amongst beeping monitors and humming electronic devises. It would have been a scavengers workshop, apart from that it had no walls except for the big row of scrap heap it was leaned against. Still, there was light shining from electric lights in the sheet metal roof. Clear indication of a source of power.

The stallion led her in under the roof. The metal floorboards creaked as they stepped into his pawn shop.

Sweetie cautiously eyes the devices on the shelves around her. The outer rows were clearly made up of restored toasters and hairdryers, but the further in they got, the more bizarre the things seemed to become, deconstructed to such a level that sweetie could not tell what it had once been. And then there were the piles of things that seemed to be constructed from several other things. At this stage, the display had stopped resembling restored junk and become their own little inventions. Most of these inventions seemed to have one or more camera lenses or light bulbs attached to them. And from their chases stretched a wide variety of wheels, claws, antennas, hooks and legs.

One... two ... Eight legs.

Sweetie stopped and stared The rows around her was filled with spiderbots, all i different shape, form and state of completion. Some lacked any legs or chasing and closer resembled the inside of a Tv than a finished product - with their electronic innards stretched out around them amongst the nuts and bolts. But all of them seemed to have some form of camera, lenses or light bulb for eyes. and they all seemed to be staring at her.

Ahead of her, the stranger had reacted the back of the porch and now stared at the blank metal sheet that made up the back wall. It was decorated with the warning sign for high voltage. He put his hoof into a crack and started pulling a big portion of the wall away. Revealing it to be a door disguised as sheet metal.

"STOP!"

Sweetie put her hoof down. She had already followed one stranger into his lair, and was not about to do it again.

"My mom told me to never go with strangers." She said "You go and get that thing out here, use an extension cord or something. But I'm not going in there!"

"Of course... Wait here." He said, and disappeared into his hideout.

Sweetie could hear him rustle and tussle with something inside. In the meantime, Sweetie looked out amongst the shelves. Scanning for any signs of activity, ready in chase this army of scrap-bots suddenly jumped for her.

There did not seem to be active, except for one little spider with a plow attached to its front so that it resembled a little bulldozer with legs.
As sweetie leaned close to it, it activated and scurried away. Sweetie followed it to the end of the porch where it disappeared out into the scrapyard.

“Do you enjoy the company of your equals?”

Sweetie turned around to see the stranger standing there, carrying a portable generator on his back. A pair of cables were flung over his horn, at the end of which a pair of electrical clamps dangled. Once again Sweetie took notice of how there wasn't a single spark of magic coming from that horn of his.

He gestured to the spider bots on the shelves as he repeated his question.

“In a way you are related - Like a pony and a horse.” He said.

Sweetie had no idea why he would compare her to that mythological creature.

“There are no horses” She said.

“Well, they said there are no talking computers either. But look where we are now.”

“HEY! I'm not a computer!”

“Are you not?“ He asked and turned to one of the screens on the shelf. It was displaying some sort of spiderbot schematic” I'm pretty sure you are related to computers the same way and old stallion would be related to his younger self”

He reached behind the monitor and yanked something out, the screen and the half finished spiderbot it was connected to, went dead. As he pulled out his hoof, Sweeties eyes would have widened if they could.

In his mangled metallic hoof – he held a blue disk.

She watched him wave it back and forth. Sweetie could feel the targeting system beginning to redirect themselves from his face and start to follow the crystal instead.

“Fasssscinating.”

The low hissing voice snapped her attention back to the creepy stallion in belonged to. (As she did she also sensed the blasters on her back focusing back on him – having mover their aim of to the side after she crystal along with her focus.

“It seems that you are drawn to your equals after all” he said.

“What do you mean?”

He flicked the disk up in the air like a coin, and caught it as it came down. Again – without using magic.

“This is essentially what you where... when you where younger, so to speak.”

"How do you know all this?" Sweetie asked suspiciously "Who are you."

"I'm the doctor."

"Doctor what?"

"Exactly."

"You did not answer my question."

The blasters slowly started to charge up again Though he never stopped grinning, sweetie could see a small twitch in his eye.

"The doctor of pain." He answered.

Sweetie could feel her nervousness levels rising at the mentioning of that dreadful title. Why was this guy not locked up in the nearest mental institute - Or had he escaped from there when it burned down?

She looked at him more closely, scanning his face for recognition. Though she could not remember him from the hospital. She did find a mach in a completely different set of files. In memories that were not her own. Of a thin stallion that always stayed at in the back, and rarely spoke.

He looked far different now. But if one excluded the brown teeth and the constant grin, and added enough oil stain to turn her mane black and greasy …

“... You are one of them.” She whispered “One of those... who made me.”

"Yesss..."

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. A lot of thoughts passed through Sweeties mind during that time. Most of them telling her to run. Or at least slowly back away. One even telling her to shoot, before this maniac tried something. But the blasters had already drained a lot of energy, and her eyes were hungrily drawn to the power generator on “Dr Pain's” back.
If she ran, she would not get far before running dry. Besides, she was in control here, she had all the weapons.

“Power.” She said. “Give it to me!”

"Of course." He said as he put the generator down and started attaching the cables to it.

All the time she kept her weapons at him. Keeping them armed like this was starting to pay a heavy toll on her energy supply. She hungrily eyes the generator as the stallion sat down and pulled a string, causing the generator to start up.

"Crystal powered generator" He said. "just one little battery can keep this thing running for days, and produce tenfold's of more energy than there is stored in its power cell."

He picked up the two clamps in his hooves and smacked the together, causing a bid spark to jump between them.

"Now, where should we put these?" He grinned. "Maybe in that socket you have in the back of your head."

If Sweetie could have pointed her weapons even harder at him, she would. She had no intentions letting him do what the mechanic had done.

Unconcerned with the blasters ominous humming, the stranger continued.

"You know - I could help you remove that torn off plug that sits attached to your skull socket."

She had what?

Questioningly, Sweetie reached with a hoof behind her. She could not feel anything due to a lack skin to feel with. But by dragging her hoof along her neck and cranium she did came to a stop, as there was something sticking out of the back of her head.

She thought she had gotten that thing out of her. She remembered having pulled at it - thought she had pulled it out when she severed the connection. But apparently it had gotten stuck in her socket. She must simply have ripped the wire apart. Which had to mean that a short portion of broken wires were sticking out of the back of her head - like a ponytail.

As she got lost in these thoughts. The stallion rose, still holding the electrical clamps in his front hooves.
He took a step towards towards her. But he seemed to forget that he was not a bipedal creature, so he stumbled and fell forward over Sweetie. The sparkling clamps held in front of him

He ended up striking her in the leg. A sharp sting flew through Sweeties fetlock and she reflexively jumped back. She took a defensive position and locked her targeting systems onto the attackers ugly grinning face.

“How did that make you feel?” He asked nonchalantly.

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

The humming of the blasters increased as they charged up with enough energy that at this point had to be enough to level the whole porch and the hideout behind it. Sweetie gritted her teeth and rubbed her right foreleg against her chest, hoping to rub the sting out of it.

"It ... It..."

-:: Hurt? ::-

Then she realized. She had felt that! Not just registered, but actually felt! Had she suddenly developed a sense of touch in her metal body?!
She checked to see her touch and pain sensors was still very much inactive. But she had felt the electricity touch her. It felt like a sting, or perhaps a pinch. Maybe as little as a touch, a tickle that disappeared the moment the wire was pulled away.

“I... I felt that...” She said in surprise.

“Interesting....”

Interesting indeed. Her protective coating had failed in her broken fetlock, she had just not noticed it since she turned it off. The energy from the live wire had gotten in through the damage and entered her systems.

It should be a bad thing. But... It felt so ... Good.... to feel something.

“Do it again...”

She held out her leg in front of her. And the stallion willingly lowered the clamps towards it. The blasters on sweeties back were still active, but were slowly powering down as the clamps touched her.
It was nothing like the massive overload of lightning she had received at the tower. It was a far more tender feeling. Like an itch, or a tickle. either way it sent a shivering feeling as it ruched down her spine before entering her battery.

-:: Shivering sequence activated ::-

Sweetie could not help herself but giggle.

"How did that make you feel."

"It tickled!"

"Intresssting."

Well. Maybe tickled was the wrong word. Sweetie just had no other way of describing it. It was not like the rubbing of sensitive skin, (since she dad no skin) but something deeper. A shiver that arose as the voltage from the generator was being absorbed into her circuitry. A feeling that changed to a flow when the power output was increased and sustained. She told the stallion to leave the output at that low tickling level, even though it would take forever to recharge that way.

At the moment, she liked the idea of staying here forever. She was just too exalted to feel something.

***

Sweetie was in a state of bliss.

Around her, several generators and batteries hummed as she sat at the edge of the porch with a spaghetti like collection of cables around her, each connected to a different part of her body by the way of clamps.

She ran one of those clamps over her foreleg. Feeling the tingling touch where the clamp connected to the metal.

The feeling was not just limited to her broken fetlock. Electricity, by its very nature, could travel through anything made of metal (as long as you had an in and an out port). Sweeties armor was no exception. And even though her insulation was only broken in a few places - the energy always found its way to them. Because Sweetie pulled it in.

The energy might only be going one way when it entered her - but as long as the flow remained - Sweetie could extend herself out into the armor. She could mentally follow the flow upstream until she reached the point where the clamps sat. And through it she became aware of her armor in a way she had never been before. She could feel the individual armored plates as energy vibrated through them.

It was not the same as having real skin, the armor had no sensors or nerves, and could not pick up the cold of the wind that blew through the porch. The wet of the rain that had soaked her, or the mud that stuck to her hooves.
But at the moment. It was enough.

She held a wire to her horn and felt the electricity flow through it. wondering if this was how it felt to have magic in your horn.
She reached out with her own energy and pulled it in. She felt it travel through her systems and down to her battery.
For the first time she extended her thoughts into that battery. From there she felt the energy flow out of it and into all of her parts. It stopped and built in certain places if she willed it. Filling a circuit up until her processor started screaming about the threat of an overload. She sat down and guided the flow Into her leg. The energy jumped out through the damaged wires in her fetlock and traveled into her hoof.

Sweetie could feel it vibrating with power. On a whim she raised her other hoof and slowly pulled the two closer and closer together, until a small bolt of lightning discharged from one hoof to the other.

Sweetie pushed more energy out to her hoof. Making the lightning bolt appear again. It flickered in and out a few times before she managed to establish a connection and maintain a constant stream of energy between her hooves.

This wasn't just like when she had taken control of the programs that controlled her functions. This time she had control over the energy itself! She might not have gotten her sense of touch back. But in a way - this was better. It was like feeling something inside her. Some sixth sense she had not been aware of.
Was this how unicorns felt when they unlocked their magic? Was this how it felt to have power coursing through your body?

Next to her. Dr Pain had set up a workstation at the edge of the porch - consisting of a bench and several monitor screens that had been carried forth with the aid of the creepy little junk bots. He had been exalted to test this phenomenon on her, and had happily hooked her up to every battery and generator he could find.

Though one eye was closed in ecstasy. The other kept a watchful eye on him as he went to type on his computer. Clicking away with two hoof dials in a speed most impressive.

And since she did not have to blink - it was easy for her to take in every detail of his work.

He had offered to remove the plug from the back of her head again and again - but Sweetie refused. By extending some energy out her neck-socket and into the plug she was able to become aware of the tiny ponytail of wires that hung from her head. For some reason it self almost like having hair - even though she could not feel the wind in it she could feel her own metallic hoof as she dragged it through the broken wires.

She would not let a stranger touch her. Not when she had a repair system to keep her going.
Though, going was just what it did not. Another reason for the waiting was to tel her system knit her back together. But still her hoof remained broken, and the voices in her head was telling her of dropping efficiency.

-:: Restoration chamber efficiency dropping // Restorative energy nearing depletion ::-

"What is wrong with my repair system?" She finally asked.

"Pardon?"

Dr Pain took a break from his work and looked down at her, curiosity shining in bout his eyes and his grin. Sweetie met his gaze with her one active eye. though she had retracted her blasters, It would take but a second fro her to activate them again.

"Its not repairing me like it used to. Its only getting weaker despite all the energy I'm loading into the system. and why cant it resore my voice! I'm not supose to sound like this! You worked on me. you must know what the problem is."

"Fasssscinating" he hissed as he leaned back into his chair. "Yes. I do know what the problem is. You are simply spending all your restorative energy."

"But - Ain't I recharging right now?"

Dr pain shook his head, and carefully explained:

“Electricity is not the only thing that is loaded into your system. Sure it might be your main power source . But it also took a lot of magic to get you running. Like your repair and restoration program, it consists of magically charged components that sends millions of little metal particles traveling through your body, reforming any damage that might occur. If by example you would get a hole in your throat. Then your repair program would slowly rebuild the walls around the damage inwards until the hole was closed. A truly marvelous mix of magic and science

They both looked out over the scrapyard. From here they had an front row view over the whole scrapyard. Or would if it was not raining so bad. As it was, one could barely see the crusher that was parked somewhere in the center. Yet even through the darkness one could make out the fuss of motion, as hundreds of little junk-bots were crawling over the machine like the ants in a anthill. (Sweetie suspected that the doctor had set up his workstation here to be able to monitor the place.)

“But it has its limits. For you see. Your repair and restoration program was never designed to repair such large scale damage as you are enduring now. It was meant to restore some inevitable wear and tear. Not repair battle damage. Doing so would drain a lot of restorative energy. Electricity might be needed to run these components. But not sustain the magic energy inside them."
"And the system can not replace missing parts. Having a branch shoved through your voicebox would not only cause a hole but also dislocate several tiny components. My guess it that some parts have been chuffed around in your voicebox, and may be rattling around your insides. If such they are out of the restoration programs reach, and can not be restored. Such repairs must be done manually.”

Sweeties eye was one again drawn out to the giant crusher Most of the junk bots were currently busy pushing the giant crusher wheel back into place by forming a jack made out of each other. She did not fancy the idea of having an army of them pull her apart as they crawled over her. And only the fuzzy state of her mind ceased any desperation routines from setting in. She was about to ask how she was suppose to recharge magical energy, when a faint blue light surrounded the horrible machine. making it stand out in the darkness. A blue magic light Sweetie knew very well.

"You have a repair system on that thing!" She said. And pointed out towards the crusher.

"Yesss..." Dr Pain answered "It helps with the maintenance."

"Well ... If you have repair magic ... If you have such components ... I want them too!"

"Of course." He said with his continuous grin. If he was disappointed by the timely intervention of this reveal, he did not show it.

He simply leaned over his desk and pulled out a drawer. From it he pulled out a tiny faint blue gemstone. the sight of it triggered a hunger inside Sweetie. Both from her stomach and from her restoration chamber. She reached out fer functional hoof in a silent demand that he give it to her.

Dr Pain leaned over to Sweetie. But before their hooves could reach, gravity seemingly overtook him and he fell out of his chair and landed right on top of her. A few of the generators and batteries were toppled and broke as they fell. But half of them remained clambered into Sweetie. She looked up. Now fully aware that Dr pain was standing on he chest, and that his hair was standing on edge. The electricity that coursed through her armor still was now taking a course through him. Especially through the mangled, metal infused leg that was visibly vibrating as sparks traveled up it.

Though even through his constant grin, he seemed to be enjoying it.

His other hoof was shaking violently and making a scratching noise that caught Sweeties attention, she looked over to her side and saw that he had struck a screwdriver into her right front leg. Reflexively she pulled her leg back. And pushed him off her.

Dr Pain rose to his hooves and shook of the experience as if he had stepped out of the shower. Even through it had to have been painful he never stopped grinning. He looked back at sweetie with an ecstasy on his own in his eyes.

"How did that make you feel?" he asked her.

“Nothing." Said Sweetie. “I didn't feel anything.”

Pain started to giggle through his teeth. (Sweetie had ever only seen Pinkie pie giggle like that. But she always manage to make it look heart warming. This guy only made I creepy.)

“Sorry. Wrong question. Wrong answer. I mean how did that make you feel?”

He empathized the last word.

Sweetie was not sure she understood the question. How had that made her feel? Angry? Sad? Surprised? Betrayed? Confused?

She settled for 'Confused'.

“Interesting...” Pain muttered.

He walked over to one of the robots on the shelf – this one a mechanical spider connected by wires to a sample of living tissue. He typed in some command into his computer and then he stabbed the tissue. Like on springs the spider-bot jerked so violently it jumped of the shelf and fell and broke upon the hard comb-stone ground.

“O my. I guess I overdid the jumping reflex in response to pain.”

He bent down his head to the bot.

“How did that make you feel?” he asked it, seriously awaiting a response.

When no response came. He walked back behind the shelves. Sweetie could hear him Mumbling to himself and causing a ruckus as he started stabbing other things with his deadly screwdriver.

Sweetie rose to her hooves. The little restorative component had fallen out of sight. On a whim she walked over to the workbench (dragging the still connected generators behind her as she did) and checked the drawer.
It was half full of similar colored gemstones of varying shapes and sizes. A selection of plenty that he no doubt used for his junk-bots.

Sweetie scoffed up a hoof-full of the stones , and absorbed the magical energy the only way she knew how - By digesting it. And the energy had been stored in her internal restoration chamber and its blue magic was now back up to speed at restoring her body - To a point.

There was still nothing to be done about her broken voicebox. And her armor was not getting any prettier. Though every plate had been bolted directly into her - It had not been hooked up the repair systems.

Sweetie looked at a scratch on her foreleg - a scratch that the repair magic could not reach - and had an idea. like all things, the energy inside her traveled through her circuitry. every piece of her was in some was connected to the greater nervous system of wires - Except for her armor - who only consisted of cold hard metal.

Metal that was now vibrating with electric power - Not to far from a wire. Sweetie let her focus shift inside - to her restoration chamber and pulled the restorative energy along with her as she one again traveled out on the electric frequency onto the armor - holding its hand as she surfed on the waves of energy all the way to the crack. After having extended herself that far out she once again returned to her eyes - and watched as the blue light started to surround the damage, and slowly the scratch started to evaporate.

-:: Restorative energy depleting ::-

-:: Already? ::-

-:: Sigh ::-

"Fasssscinating."

Sweetie's eyes returned to Dr Pain. Her mind a little to fuzzy to develop any real irritation over his constant hissing or her insufficient repair system. As she watched him. he moved back to sit at his workbench, just as happy and grinning as he had been when he left. He had even acquired a new hat - the upper shell casing of a spider-bot.

They both looked out at the big crusher, where the spiderbots was busy holding the crusher wheel in place - allowing the blue restorative light to engulf the broken axle.

A few more spiderbots emerged from the shelves and hurried out into the rain to assist with repairing the cruncher maw. Perhaps to escape their abusive master?

“Marvelous little machines aren't they?” Said pain. Working so tirelessly, never ending. Without the need for sleep or food other than the occasional recharge.”

“But Why?” Sweetie asked.

“Why build robots?” Pain Smiled.

"Ever since the invention of the wheel ponies have made tools and gadgets to assist them in all their little everyday needs. In time they may become able to take the entire workload off the pony's backs. Some might say that would make us lazy. But I say it leaves us with more time to pursue other arts and crafts - like building more robots - Like teaching them the meaning of life through the meaning of pain. Its my hope that I will one day be able to replicate the process of bringing life to a machine.”

“But why do that?" Asked Sweetie. "Why give them a personality if they are only going to work? Why give them free will? Why give them life?”

“Why give a robot life? That is a most fasssssscinating question indeed. To see if we can I suppose. The whole point of our little experiment was to see if we could create life. And the only way we could know if we truly succeed was to see if the thing itself could believe it was alive, just as alive as any other pony. That's why we could never tell it of its true nature.

“And did you learn anything?”

“Much, and at the same time nothing” was his cryptic answer. “One discovery only led to more questions. One step forward and two steps back. So to speak.”

Sweetie knew how that felt.

“That's your failure. Not mine!” She shouted. “I'm not a failure. You are! You are the ones that doesn't understand anything!”

Sweetie – Trying to take control of the conversation – Smiled a wicked smile. (A difficult task without lips.)

"You know what else you failed at! Controlling me. I know you put a control program in my mind. I had a lot of voices in my head. But I overcame them!"

"Voices?" Pain said, very questioningly.

But then something lit up in his eyes, a sparkle of understanding. And his smile widened to cover what was left of his face from ear to ear. So big was his smile that he had to open his mouth, exposing every brown teeth in there. So wide that Sweetie thought he was gonna unhinge his yaw. She had only ever seen Pinkie Pie smile so impossibly wide before.
The pink party pony had always made it seem heartwarming. This was nothing like that.

"They sound like voices to you?" He hissed. "Fassssssssinatiiiiing..."

-:: Fear levels rising ::-

"What does?" She asked. "What sounds like voices?"

"The programs, of course - Every little sequence you are made up of."

"I'm not made up of sequences" Sweetie objected "that's just stuff that you have put on my mind. Spells that was to keep me from finding out the truth!"

Dr Pain lowered his head towards her with an ever increasing interest.

“No no no. Magic might have been involved in the making of your body. But those are not spells. They are simply code. Code that controls your body.“

"I know!" Sweetie raised her voice. "Those things always tried to dictate everything I do. They were locked behind big magical walls. some of them still are."

Dr Pain chuckled.

"Those are not control programs. Oh sure, they are in the sense that they control the functions of the different components of your body. And yessss... in a sense, their settings were programmed by some pony else. Us. But they are not mind control spells as you seem to think. The only 'control' was that you were not suppose to be aware of them. Like how you can speak or breathe without thinking about it. They run the lower functions of your body so you wont have to.
The fact that you have become aware of them is... Interesting. And that you say you can control them... even more so."

Sweetie shuddered. Was that what the control program was? Just a wall she had somehow been able to work herself around?

"Then. what am I programmed to do?"

"Nothing." Was the blunt answer. "You have no specific programming."

Sweetie was shocked. To her - that meant that not only was she not supposed to ever find out that she was a robot, she had never been given any specific purpose in the first place! Somehow, that single thought triggered a far more primal fear than she thought possible. A fear that she had carried with her every time she and the Cmc had gone crusading. A fear that had grown when she learned she would never get a real mark. Even then some part of her had not stopped looking for a purpose. Something that explained what she was meant to be.
By contrast – Dr Pain had programmed all his robots to fulfill some job or another - he had given them all purposes.

What was her purpose - Other than just to be?

She thought about her heart drive. What magic allowed her to feel emotions to begin with? Surely one could not program emotions. Or could you? Up until now, that had been the only thing she had taken for granted. Before that, she had always believed that her mind was her own. But what if her mind was just made up of a bunch of programs that other ponies had come up with? What was to say the same was not true for the heart? For her emotions?

"Somepony once told me that “I think therefore I am.”

Dr pain laughed.

“Whoever that is, they are a fool." He said "You think thinking is enough to make you sentient. A computer can think. A puppet can think. A golem can think if you give it enough intelligence. But intelligence alone is not enough to make a sentient being. Instead it is our emotions that sets us apart. Or more specifically how those emotions effect the logic side of us”

“I say that If you FEEL, then you are. Its only through pain that you know you are alive right? It is when we stop feeling that we are dead. When we stop feeling love we die a little inside. When we stop feeling pain then you are dying a little on the outside. Like when skin burns in dragon-fire. As the skin gets roasted and the nerve endings cauterize - that part of the pony is burned to death. A small part of him died.”

Sweetie did not want to know if he spoke from some sort of experience.

“That's why I make sure I can feel that I'm alive every day” He said, and held up his horribly mutilated leg. His right leg

Sweetie looked down on her own leg. She thought about the skin that had been blown off. About the needles she had stuck into the blody mess that remained. About how she had been able to stick it in after she turned her sense of pain off.

That was all she wanted. for the pain to just come to an end.
She had been hurt by the ice cold rain. So she had turned her sense of touch off.
She had been hurt by hunger. So she had turned her belly off.
She had been hurt by water and smoke. So she had turned her lungs off.
She was still hurting on the inside. The feelings hurt her.

Why could she not turn off her feelings? - Because she did not have full control over her heart drive yet The progress on the heart integrity was at some 60 percent.%. A work in progress. And once that was done, she would turn it off, so it would not hurt any more.

But now – this guy – this maker of hers - told her that you died if you stopped feeling?
Did that mean she had been killing herself piece by piece!!!??

But what about all the times she turned her self back on? Did that mean she killed and then revived herself every time she turned some part of herself on and off? Was that even the same thing?

-:: Does not compute // Yes / No … Maybe ::-

If anything. Did it mean that she could be turned on again after she died? What did that say about her soul? Did she get a new soul each time she rebooted? Or was her soul saved somewhere?

She asked Dr Pain this. And told him what Necro has Said. Dr pain called even Necro a fool. For a moment sweeties hope rose. If the black stallion was wrong, then maybe she had a soul. She might not even be a brain in a jar – But she might at least have a soul.

But Dr Pain was quick do dash those hopes by laughing at the Idea of a soul jar.

“There is no specific part of you meant to house a soul.“

“So. I have no soul?” Sweetie said in shock.

“Soul?” said Pain, and laughed again. “Who needs a soul? A soul is but a metaphor for all the things that makes you, you. And what are we all but collections of memories. Those memories and experiences that makes us into who we are. All the love, anger, fear, hurt and... pain.”

He scratched his leg. His smile seemed to widen as he did it.

Sweetie was stuck in her own thoughts If your soul was made up of your memories. - Did that mean the mechanist had tried to take her soul when he tried to take her memory? He has certainly tried to change whom she was.

Sweetie told him about Molten Metalhoof too. And how he had tried to delete her.

“Hes a fool.. too” Said Dr Pain. “Molten might be an excellent engineer. But he's a lousy programmer. Could not program his way out of a paper bag. Much less into something like your Cybercore.”

He touched her forehead with his mangled hoof.

“The only way he would be able to get into your systems... Was if you let him!”

Sweetie just stared. Was the only reason the Mechanic had been able to delete her files because she let him! The logic center had after all agreed with Molten's deleting. Again. To end the control that somepony else had put on her. But then again... had he really succeeded? Though her memory on the subject was fussy she had the brief sense that every single part of her still remained. Dormant, sleeping somewhere inside her.

This revelation did not make Sweetie think better about herself. It made her feel worse. Because that meant she had almost deleted herself.

Somewhere in the outside world, Pain continued his ramblings, uncaring if Sweetie listened or not.

"Fire might kill your body - but it can also kill your mind. The fires of love and hate can burn a sound mind to ashes. All the regrets and refusals and desperate desires we carry. They can be like fishing-hooks pulling at your heart. And if the pull is strong enough, you have no choice but to follow it.”

Again, was this poet speaking from some form of experience?

“So the question becomes." Dr pain made a dramatic pause "What would a computer long for?”

He punched a recorder next to the monitor, and out popped a blue disk. He caught it in his mangled hoof and spun it around, watching as Sweetie's eyes were one again drawn to that strange device.

“What does a thinking computer long for most? Well I guess that would be for something to think about. And we did. As we tried to teach you how to be a pony – As we completed all the code that would keep your body running like a pony's … Well … In retrospect I guess that was kind of like spoon feeding a foal its baby meal."

“But what about the foal!” Sweetie shouted in disbelief. She could not just accept that she was nothing but a computer. Was she not the copy of some pony else. At the very least that had to make her some part pony.
“I thought I was the ghost of a foal transferred into (she gestured at herself) … This.”

“Oh.” Pain chuckled “That little story. Yea, there was a foal involved in the process. It was her mind we used to make you. A template for the functions of a pony mind. That was the very first thing you absorbed.”

“Absorbed?”

“Yes – getting back to the point about spoon feeding a computer.” He flipped the disk up into the air and caught it again “you should know that a computer is like a storage device – a bookshelf if you will, or a library. It fills up with information the more you put in it. Every piece of code that we put into that mind of yours made you grow. And you were hungry.

“H... Hungry?“

“That neural processor of yours had an amazing ability to absorb information from everything it was connected to. Copying and collecting files in order to make its own mind grow. It even absorbed all the information from the devices that the foal had been connected to.

“And as the computer thinks for itself – every new thought it creates becomes new information that insures in continued growth.”

The disk came to a stop in his hooves.

“So. What does a computer long for? Well, I guess that would be to learn new things, to be curious, to absorb new information about the world around it.

Sweetie stared at the blue disk as it spun around in Dr pains hoof. Was she curious because these ponies had made her so?

“Information like these little things.” He said as he waved the disk around “Do you enjoy the company of your equals? Because it was storage devices like these that your mind started out as.”

Sweetie grabbed her head was that what pounded inside her metalized cranium? A collection of disks? Was that why she had felt such a longing for them? Because she was made up of them? Because she hungered for information?

She looked down at her leg. It moved to her will. She had never questioned that the leg moved when she willed it to move. But now she did.

She thought about it as just a function that she had absorbed, that she had been programmed - spoon fed - to do.

Every thought she made was just new information that was added to her storage, That also meant that every single little sequence was just a part of that great storage room. And that every time they did something, every time a body function was activated, it was registered. Every time a feeling was processed it meant new info to that great mind-vault.

Or was it more like one of those black holes that Twilight talked about? An infinite well that just sucked upp everything that came near it. Or was it more like one of those black holes that Twilight talked about? An infinite well that just sucked upp everything that came near it. And that hole in her head that sucked down books.

Twilight would have been glad...

“But … If I am a library … If I'm just a storage devise. If I'm just made up of memories. Should I not have a perfect memory?

“That's the tricky part.” Said Dr Pain, and patted one of his screens. “A computer does not remember. It just stores information. It stores everything you put in it. And it picks out anything the user wants it to pick out.”

“But can a computer not be not its own user if it thinks on its own? Then what chooses which memories I am made up off?”

“I assume that you, your brain, your neural processor - is choosing which memories that are most important and stores them ahead of all others, and it picks forth those things you want it to pick forth. The memories you label as important. And push the other stuff you label as non important boring stuff down the drain. Further and further back down into your subconscious servers.”

That made sense to a point. But it lead to another dreadful thought, what would happen when her memory became full? Would she simply stop remembering new things then? Did that mean she would have to delete memories to clear up disk space?!
Suddenly all the information she had gotten from the computer of the Mechanic seemed heavy in her mind. And all the memory’s she had been seeing in all the blue disks. How much space did it take up?!!

She asked Dr Pain this. And of course he smiled as he answered.

”Hard to say. We never deleted anything from our hard drives." He said as he once again picked forth a blue disk that had been sitting in a recorder next to his monitor. He waved it around as he nostalgically continued.

"I'm guessing that the memories at the very bottom would fade away over time. The informational energy would be reduced to simple ordinary energy that might be distributed to other systems or memories. You see. We pumped you so full with information that we did not know where it all went. Maybe those dissolved experiences would form a ghost code that affects who you are?”

Ghost code... Necro had called her a ghost in the shell. An artificial ghost made up of code. This must have been what he meant.

A fake ghost.

Did this mean that she was just an artificial ghost in a robot pony shell? A ghost of old dissolved computer programs that where now fighting for control with the newer control programs over her body and mind? Did she have another mind in her? Was there two parts to her? The part that believed it was a normal filly and the part that believed it was a robot? (were they like two angel and demon voices on her shoulders?) What happened to it when she took over? Did she absorb it or did she destroy it? Was that what was locked behind the tricky walls of her heart? Was that what kept interfering with her processor? Was it ghost code that had been locked away so it did not interfere with the part of her that was just programmed to be a real foal? What was she was trying to break free? Her real self? Just ghost code? So elusive that she could not even register it?

”I'm guessing that if you just sat down and searched through your internals you would be able to find precisely everything. Just like when a computer uses a search engine to find anything stored on its memory bank.”

Sweetie had done just that several times. Journeyed up and down her very own memory lane, trying to make sure that everything was there. She had found that she had a nearly perfect memory. Except for the very end of that lane. The very beginning of her life, which was blocked to her.

Some part of her just knew that those earliest memories had to be in behind that elusive component called her heart drive. Just like the truth about her being had been stored somewhere behind a frozen wall of flaming ice.

-:: Frustration sequence activated ::-

How could they be so mean as to deny her her past. A piece of herself. A piece of her soul if you thought about it like Dr Pain did!

Speaking of codes and memory files. How had it even been possible that there was parts of herself that she was not aware of?

Upon questioning, Dr pain could only twist in his seat.

“Well ... A computer program is technically always aware of all its systems. We wanted to remove that. we had the idea that since living creatures like me are not constantly aware of all the signals that makes our body work. that makes our heart beat and our lungs draw breath. So thought we that we could program all functions and control programs and settings on a lower level of the hardware while the AI – the active consciousness where programmed on a higher level. That way we created several layers of a consciousness and sub consciousness... ”

Sweetie remembered what Dr Cardiac had said. That the brain had multiple parts that all took care of the bodies functions without you having to constantly remind yourself to breathe or make your heart beat.

Similarly she had not been in constant awareness of her own systems. She did not tell her belly to grind up the things she put in it and she did not tell her repair program to do its thing. Though she could go in and assume direct control, those thing took care of themselves when left to their own devices. They were programmed to function individually. Even such a thing as blinking, that she made her eyes do every once in a while, was now something that happened on a more subconscious level following the programming she had made up for them.

“... A Lower level consciousness that took care of all the body functions. And a higher level consciousness that
became the active personality. And the two where not suppose to be aware of each other. That way the higher personality consciousness – where all the memories formed – would not know if it was a robot.”

“But... Why?” said Sweetie. "Why never tell me?"

Pain jerked his shoulders.

“That was what the experiment was for. To see if such a thing was really possible. The whole point of the experiment was to see if we could create life. And the only way we could know if we truly succeed was to see if the thing itself could believe it was alive, just as alive as any other pony. That's why we could never tell it of its true nature.

“Though ... It seems now as if it has failed.”

Sweetie shuddered. She had thought of herself as a doll, then as a murderbot. But now the more she found out about herself, it seemed that she was just an experiment. A test to create artificial life. A test to see if she could be any of those things. So far it seemed she had been able to be neither. Not a filly. Not a Machine soldier. Not a toy. Not a experiment.

“HEY I am not a failure!” She shouted.

But she could not shake the thought. Did that mean that all her time with friends and family where just part of a test? Where they all aware of it? Not just her parents but her friend and her classmates and every pony in town? Was everything in her life just one big play pretend to see if one little robot would thing that it was a real filly. Was that why they had shunned her when she found out the truth? Was the accident also part of the test? To see what extremes she would go through to claim she was still a real filly? Was she still in the test and this horrid journey was just a set up course to see how long it took for her to accept the truth? How else was she supposed to explain that she kept running in to all there crazy ponies that apparently knew so much about her!

“I'm not a failure... I'm not a failure... I'm not!” She shuddered.

-:: Anxiety levels rising ::--

Her legs started shaking and she knew she would start hyperventilating if her ability to breathe had not been deleted from her.

–:: Hate levels rising ::--

No. No! She refused to play this stupid game any more! She did not want to be those things and no one was gonna call her a failure for wanting differently!

”I AM NOT A FAILURE!” she screamed as her Master Blasters shot out of her back and her vision turned red, and at least twenty targeting markers appeared on Dr Pain.

Dr Pain, seemingly unable to change emotions from his constant grin, rose from his seat and walked back over to the shelves.

"Failure?" He said. as he one by one started to throw the defenseless spiderbots down onto the ground.

“This one is a failure! This one's a failure! This one and this one too!” he repeated over and over again as he shoved his work down onto the floor before he grabbed hold of the entire shelf and pulled it down with a crash that smashed everything that was lying underneath.

“They have all failed to become what they were supposed to be!” he almost shouted. Still with that grin on his face.

Sweetie stared in horror at the mad stallion for the longest time. finally she managed to push some words out through her voicebox.

“What where they supposed to be? What was I supposed to be!? Can you answer that!?"

Her voice rose as she continued.

"NO! You can not, because you don't know anything. It's not their fault that they don't work the way you want them to! It's not their fault that you cant do anything right!" She shouted as she gestured around to the broken little machines, suddenly feeling very sorry for them.

"That's your failure. Not theirs! Not mine! I'm not a failure. You are! You and all the others are failures that doesn't understand anything!”

Pain stared at her.

"That is certainly a fassscinating possibility." He hissed, with barely more than a whisper. his eyes grew distant as he started moving away, deeper and deeper into his workshop, mumbling to himself and talking to the machines.

Sweetie stood there for a while, watching him disappear into his hideout before she slowly retracted the blasters into her back and her vision returned to normal.

As she did, she had a realization. She realized he just saw her as one of the broken things on the shelves.

“He thinks of me as a toy.” She thought to herself. "As an experiment" All this time he had been experimenting on her. He made that maze , he put her under all that weight, He took her time with a stopwatch. And now ... He was testing her mentally. To see if there actually was anything inside this metal head of hers.

She should be angry. But still... He was acting so weird that she wondered if he at all was aware of her intelligence at all. If he was even aware of her at all. He was so weary and spent all his time mumbling around and talking as much to broken machines and his toys as he did to her. She was just another experiment to him.

Experiment...

She had no intention of becoming somepony's experiment. She had to leave before he decided to trip over her and stab her with something else. or throw her into another crusher maw. Had any of those 'accidents' been actual accidents?

Despite that her battery was not fully recharged, she disconnected the wires from herself. She had to leave. But before she left, she made sure to swoop another hoof-full of repair crystals from his desk.

She pulled out the entire drawer and emptied all the content into her mouth, and munched it down. Felt it being broken down and its magical energy being absorbed into her own repair system.

There was still a thousand little things, scratches and nicks that needed restoration. But she thought it best to conserve her energy in the future - for when she really needed it. besides. If she could fix herself manually, she would have to do so in order to save energy.

She looked around to see that he was not gonna sneak up on her again. He didn't even notice her leaving.

Experiment...

As her mind began to clear from the shock therapy - a new horrifying thought had begun to form in her mind. If they needed to test just how lifelike this little bot could be. Then would they not have to perform field tests? Would they not have to provide her with a family and a home? And just how was it that this crazy doctor knew about her near-fatal run in with a tree? How had she not thought of that before?

Experiment...

Was she being watched?

-:: Paranoia levels rising ::-

She picked up one of the broken spiderbots, Stared into its empty camera socket. She feared she had an answer to that question right in front of her.

As she was about to leave she noticed the blue crystal disk that he had left, a little inconspicuously out in the open.

She thought she should ignore it. Prove that she did not have a vampiric desire to devour all information from those crystals like some fruitbat.

Despite that, she could not help herself. What if this one held some answers? What if this one held the truth to her being? Besides, if he had collected data on her, was it not just as fair that she took it for her own?

Out of experience she disconnected her sensors and other things from her body functions processor. To distance herself from the recording, so as to not have to experience any pain that might lay in wait inside the circuits of the cursed disk - and brought it to her horn.

A small flash of energy emerged from the top of her horn - and the world melted away.

-:: Establishing connection ::-

Well. This was a new experience.

She was eminently able to tell that she was not in a pony body. In all the other memories she had been able to feel what the pony felt. But never had she received data from them like this. She recognized a control system far simpler than her own that controled 8 little simple hydraulic legs. A remote control program and a single optic lens

She was one of the little spider bots.

The vision through the optic lens was tilted on the side. She realized that she was watching from the side of a wall. In a dark corner where she had a good lookout over a office like room and the three occupants that surrounded a mahogany desk in the middle. In the main chair sat the mysterious mare in glasses she had seen so many times before. In front of her – with their backs towards the camera sat two other ponies Sweetie unmistakably identified.

Despite having different clothing and appearing far younger than she remembered them, she recognized that stallion with the big brown eyebrows and mustache, and the mare with the big purple hair bundle anywhere.

Mom and dad.

She wanted to call out to them. Wanted them to take her in their arms. But she was stuck in the body of the spiderbot. A simple machine without any basic voice component. And even if there had been one - it was just a memory anyway.

What the spiderbot did have however, was a small microphone, and it was picking up sound from the conversation they were having.
Sweetie could not know what they had discussed, but it looked like they had been at it for a while

”... I'm actually worried that she will break off from her parents.” Said the mystery mare. ”What I propose is simply a little control program. With a little keyword she will fall madly in love with you and feel compelled to do as you say.”

"But... Does that not go against everything you have said? Were we not to tamper with her mind?" Asked her mother.

"Yea ... I thought that all emotions were supposed to develop on their own."

The mare in glasses regarded them for a while. Seemed to be considering what they had said, then asked a single question.

“Don't you want your daughter to love you?”

Mom and dad looked at each other and lowered their eyes.

”Yes...”

-:: Transmission ended ::-

Her whole world became a blurry static as the painfully short message ended far to quickly and too suddenly.
But Sweetie had seen all she needed to see.

-:: Initiate cry sequence // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found ::-

That was it. The ultimate proof that her parents did not love her. Or that she did not love them. That they had forced such emotions upon her. That they had installed a control program to make her love them and obey them.

She thought back with horror on all the times her parents had ordered her to do something. “Sweetie would you kindly clean your room. Would you please brush your teeth? No more cookies, Sweetie”

She had to run. She had to get away from all this. Her Heart-Drive shouted in protest that it could not be true.
But what else could it be then the truth?

She grabbed her helmet, and ran out into the rain.

***

As Sweetie bolted out into the rain, The self proclaimed doctor of pain emerged from a different door in the shed.

“How fasssscinating." he said to himself "She displays such curiosity, such emotions... such pain.”

He returned to his work and continued to work for several hours. Time seemed to melt away as he buried himself in his work.
Until he heard something returning to the yard.

He turned around and found not one, but several armored stallions standing in front of him, watching him with red glowing eyes. Some of them were in very bad shape, and covered in mud in places where the rain could not wash it away. He could hear the gravel in the gears as they tumbled into his yard and formed a line around him.

From the darkness emerged another familiar set of faces he had not seen in a long while.

“Oh, hi you old fools – Long time no see.”

Author's Note

Another chapter that dragged out for way too long.

Chapter 19. Child of Cyber

“Rarity. Please eat something.”

Rarity did not respond, she just sat there, leaned against the wagon window and starred out into the rain with red swollen eyes.

The black spots around her eyes had gotten worse, and had been joined by big black bags. And these spots were the natural sign of sleep deprivation, as no mascara remained on her face. Likewise, her mane and tail had lost the last of their curls as she no longer tended to them, their only volume now came from the ragged mess that formed she she attempted to dry herself up from the rain.

Pressed tightly against her chest she hugged the rough crystal. As it if would disappear if she let go. From time to time she tried taking it in her magic – to shape it into something resembling a heart. And time and time again she sat it down without having done anything.

She had not been able to stop blaming herself for everything that had happened. She had refused to go back into the wagon, insisting that she lead the party in their search for Sweetie. She stressed to the max that they had to find her little sister before the other hooligans did.

They did not need Screwloose to follow the deep tracks that the other group had left behind. The mad mare needed a rest as much as anypony. after having calmed her down from her phobia of lightning, Dr Cardiac had tucked her to sleep in the wagon, and simultaneously vowed to take some rest beside her. The big stallion also needed some rest. and it thus became Twilight's and Sully's turn to pull the wagon. Despite a splitting headache Twilight had managed to put a spell on the wagon, to make it to make it easier to pull. That way they could take turns, as just one pony could pull all the others as they laid to get some rest in the mattress clad interior.

All except Rarity, Who pushed herself further and further ahead of the group and threatened to run ahead of them if they did not keep up. Despite being worn out from the rough encounter she pushed herself. Eventually - Sully had shot a sedative dart into her back to stop her from breaking herself.

As they pulled the two exhausted mares into the wagon for some much needed rest, It became Twilight's turn to pull. She had followed the tracks for what felt like several hours. Eventually coming across a glade full of fallen Steel Stallions that had been beaten into scrapmetal. The trees around them had suffered much damage after magical energy weapons and homemade explosives. Yet, there was no sign of what they had been shooting at or what had attacked them. Only the ground seemed a little extra muddy in these parts.

Given her friends condition. Twilight thought it best no to mention anything. Instead she pulled the wagon away from the sight.

Eventually Screwloose and Cardiac came to, and offered to take over. The mad mare once again picked up the trail of Sweetie, and thankfully lead them away from the current path.

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief to this. Firstly - because it meant that the other group hadn't found Sweetie, and were hopefully on the wrong track. Secondly - cause the trail seemed to be littered every so often with another broken Steel Stallion.

However, Twilight might rather have pulled the wagon into eternity, than climb aboard and see her friend like this.
Before taking her place at the front of the wagon, Dr Cardiac had whispered to Twilight that her friend were showing signs of self destructive behaviors. Possibly as a form of punishment she was bestowing upon herself.

Hence, she now refused to eat.

The only thing Twilight could do was be there for her. Comfort her and talk to her.
Contrary to her appetite, Rarity had not been unable to talk. She had in fact been more open now than she had been for the entire trip. It was as if some form of plug had opened up in her. And all that she had bottled up was now flowing out.

Still – as it was flowing out of her, Rarity seemed to be visibly deflating as it did so.

Twilight had asked about the murderous strangers with the deadly machines that had interrupted their meeting with Shockwave. And Rarity had recognized every one of them. There had been Molten Meralhoof, the mechanic. The mare on him was Marrow – also called Marrowline. And third and finally there had to bee Dr Prism Prestige. A prestige-filled stallion with a degree in crystal magic. All ponies that had worked on the same little mare, and that were now all out to get her.

There had been more still. A pony calling himself Mr P. Morbious, Or just 'Morbid' as Rarity had called the creepy stallion. He was surely dead in the great fire that had swept the research lab. She never had learned what the 'P' stood for. And then there was also Dr Bronco, the only kind soul that she could remember, as well as another mare, who joined the project late, just to name a few.

Rarity excused herself from the spoon full of tin canned fruit that was hovering in front of her with that she did not want to talk with food in her mouth. But Twilight remembered Dr Cardiac's words. Her friend was deflecting the food with excuses.

A bit deflated herself, Twilight levitated the spoon to her own mouth.

She rubbed her forehead, near the base of her horn. The splitting headache she had gotten from having her magic drained was beginning to die down. But due to sleep deprivation and exhaustion it refused to leave her head completely. Even the small magic effort of lifting the spoon caused something to burn under her forehead.

She needed to rest. But due to the mood she was in, she found it impossible. Even worse was it for Rarity, who had exhausted herself worse than Twilight yet still refused to sleep. The pain in her chest would not let her. Despite the medication she looked as tense as a rubber band - stretched to the breaking point. Twilight silently begged for this endeavor to be over soon. she did not know how much more she or her friend could take.

On the other side of the wagon. Nurse Sully and Brick were sleeping like there was not a care in the world. The two of them had managed to cuddle themselves together - less like a couple and more like a pair of big fillies who has fallen asleep on top of each other. (him with his head in her neck - she on his thick foreleg.)

Twilight sighed at the two. Years of dealing with crazy must have made them able to sleep despite the sorrow in the air.

She was about to offer Rarity another spoon when suddenly the wagon stopped. Next to her, Brick and Sully was rocked awake by the sudden stop.

"What is it? Are we there yet, mom?" The dizzy stallion mumbled.

"Prick." Sully answered with a yawn.

Then the two of them quickly pulled themselves apart as they realized who they were using as a pillow.

Twilight poked her head out the window to see what was the matter.

In the front, Cardiac was loosening himself from the pulling harness.
Ahead of him, Screwloose had stopped, and she was barking wildly at them.

"What is the matter?"

“I think she wants us to see something.” Said Dr Cardiac. “What is it girl? What have you found?”

Rarity sprung to life. She was the first out of the wagon and immediately started calling out.

“Sweetie? Sweetie! Where is she?”

Twilight disembarked from the back and her hooves clattered against the unusually hard ground. It was then she realized that they had come upon an asphalted road, and the mad mare was sitting in the middle of it.

She and Rarity lit up their horns and swung them across the road. Shining it up with rays of magic light.

“SWEETIE!? SWEETIE!” Rarity continued.

Twilight directed her light-cone down to the rains soaked road, and something caught her eye. Screwloose was her hoof alongside the road, as if trying to dig something up. As if trying to push the water aside.

Despite the hurt in her forehead. Twilight managed to conjure up an energy field to block the rain.
With the rain no longer falling on the road. Twilight saw what it was that had caught the mad mares attention.

Skitter-marks. Black lines had been carved into the asphalt. Marks by two ponies. And a large chariot. They must have halted for something – and failed. There was a spot on the road where the marks stopped, then began again. Indicating that something got run over here.

Screwloose started jumping around on skitter-marks, and came to a stop at that gap in the marks. There she laid down. Ears flat to her head, and whimpered.

Around the mare, there was a small glimmer of light that was reflected in Twilight's magic flashlight. Upon examination of the spot, she found the road was covered in tiny metal tiny metal chips. There was even a small head of a screw. clearly having been broken off.

“Where is she?!" Rarity yelled as she marched up to Screwloose "WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU STUPID DOG OF A MARE!?"

She grabbed Screwloose by the collar of her ruined restraining jacket and started shaking her around as she yelled in her face.

"You were supposed to lead us to my sister! SO WHY DID YOU STOP!?”

Rarity looked like she wanted to strangle she poor mare. She no doubt would if the mare had led them astray. But Twilight did not believe she had.

"Because the trail ends here!" She shouted.

Rarity let go of Screwsloole and focused all her attention on Twilight.

"What do you mean ends here? Where is she?"

"Look." Twilight pointed down at the marks in the asphalt.

Rarity took them in with a questioningly look on her face. Then grabbed Screwloose again.

"WHAT? DO YOU WANNA CHASE WAGONS NOW YOU STUPID DOG...!"

Behind her, Brick and Cardiac moved in to grab Rarity, And Sully was readying a shot.

"Yes! I actually think she has to!" Twilight shouted "Look again. The trail ends here. And a wagon stopped for something - hit something. Don't you think its possible that she might have gotten on board?"

This time Rarity did take in the metal chips and drag marks on the road. Twilight even showed her the one little screw head.

"Oh! By a hippo's Hippocampus" Brick cursed. "She eluded us again!"

“Wha... What?” Twilight could not help but to let out a nervous laughter. she was that unsure of how to take the stallions weird statement.
“sorry. Its just... what you said...”

“Its just something I've taken to saying." Brick smiled "I don't want to sound superstitious “so I swear by a hippo's hippocampus instead of by our empresses.”

Everypony stared awkwardly at him for a few seconds.

“Is't...” he began.

“I know what it is.” Said Cardiac. The hippocampus is a part of the brain..."

" ...And a hippo is a creature from the southern realms." Twilight finished.

The two exchanged a look

"I just never thought about the similar spelling of the two words.” she said.

“Few would” Cardiac said with a smile.

"Hell of a time to be joking you big prick!" Sully shouted "Don't you happen to be related to such a creature when you have such useless information floating in your brain!"

Brick let out a big sigh and rolled his eyes. Twilight felt the tiny smiles melt away from their lips. She looked back at her friend, who was just done examining the road.

"How ... how do we even know this is Sweetie?" Rarity shuddered, shaking her head in denial. "It ... It could be one of those horrible stallions we are chasing .... One of those metal monstrosities."

Rarity didn't want to believe it. Twilight didn't want to believe it herself. But the evidence pointed towards it.

Rarity turned back to grab Screwloose - But the mad mare had moved out of her grip and was now sniffing in the gutter beside the road, outside Twilight's rain-bubble. Demonstrating she actually could use her hooves like a mare, she picked picked something up from the gutter, and walked back to Rarity, dropping it in her still strangle-itching hooves.

It was a single straw of pink hair, that had almost been washed away by the rain.

Rarity stared at it, and collapsed.

"It is... Its Sweeties" She mumbled "There is no doubt about it. I recognize that color anywhere"

With one hoof she hugged the straw close to her chest. The other she dragged over the ground, picking up several shards of metal chipping, along with the screw-head.

“She is falling apart...” She said with a shivering voice. “My little Sweetie is falling apart...” She looked back up at twilight with the saddest eyes. "We must find her... find her before ... she..." She could not get out a single word more as her voice failed her.

"Twilight dropped to her knees and took her friend in a hug."

"We will..." She whispered "... We will."

Thankfully, Rarity hugged her back. A bit harder than Twilight had expected.

"You were saying it it likely she was picked up by a passing wagon?" She asked, sternness sipping into her broken voice.

'Passing' Twilight thought as she looked down at the tracks. The only thing she said was: "If her tracks end here... then yes."

“We need to find that wagon.” Rarity stated firmly as she pulled them both up from the ground. “Search girl! Search!!”

Apparently the mad mare understood, for she immediately started sniffing the track-marks. She sniffed down their entire length, then past them, out past Twilight's barrier and out into the rain. There she rose up on her back hooves, let out a howl, and started running.

"Looks like we have to pick up the pace." Said Brick. "Everypony back onto the wagon!"

Rarity didn't even bother to get back in the wagon. She was already running after Screwloose.

***

It was not to long before they came upon the gates of a dumpster. Screwloose dashed right in, flowing the deep tracks of a heavy loaded wagon that were still visible, like water filled channels in the muddy ground.

Unfortunately, those tracks ended in the middle of a big U-turn. (Screwloose stopped in the middle of that U turn, and let out a howl.)
The only conclusion Twilight could draw from that was that the wagon had been unloaded - and that the tracks of the lighter wagon had been washed away by the heavy rain. And there was quite a few conclusions to what kind of load the wagon had been carrying that she did not want to draw if it had unloaded in a place like this.

Where they really gonna have to find Sweetie in a place like this? Buried in a pile of rubble? A part of her wondered what kind of pony miss-takes a filly for a pile of junk? But another part of her remembered Cardiac's story about Sweetie never emerging from the burning building. What did she actually look like if she was caught in those flames? Bad enough that she was deliberately avoiding ponies? Bad enough that she did no longer look like a filly?

“Man ... What a dump.” Brick said out loud.

“Way to state the obvious you prick!” Sully sneered.

Brick let out another big sigh.

They all started calling out for Sweetie. For anypony at all. Somepony had to be here after all, if the wagon had come by here.

“Unless it was the last wagon, and whoever runs this dump have gone home now.” Said Cardiac.

But then why was there still light coming from that porch? Twilight wondered.

When they didn't receive any answer, they started to fan out and search the place. Whoever had designed designed this place had made it a maze. And Twilight and Sully soon lost sight of the others.

As the two mares strutted around a corridor of junk. Twilight decided that it was time to get to know her traveling companion a little better. Particularity about one thing that had been bugging her.

“Don't you think you are being a little hard on Brick? Why are you always calling him a prick and such?”

“Because he is one.” Was the blunt answer.

When asked to elaborate, The nurse sighed and looked even more tired than she already was.

“Prick used to bully me in school, used to make jokes about my pale colors and what have you. Then, several years later, as some twist of fate, he happens to apply for work at the same place as me. But this time the roles were reversed. Now I was technically his superior. So I figured it was time for some payback."

“And how long has this been going on?”

“I don't know.” Sully sighed. “So long that I have started doing it out of habit. He pulls one of his bad jokes – and I call him out on it.”

“I don't think he was joking, At least not in any harmful way. ”

“Don't you find it annoying?”

Twilight smiled. “I have a friend that is at least a hundred times worse. Sure she can be a hooffull sometimes. Until you realize that she is really just trying to lighten the mood."

"Do you really think this situation calls for jokes?"

"Sometimes the best way to deal with fear is to laugh a little at it. Have you tried to laugh along, just a little?”

“No... I didn't laugh at his jokes in school, and I...”

“But you are not in school any more aren't you?" Twilight aborted "And the jokes don't seem to be aimed at you any more. Have they been ever since he started working with you?”

“… No.”

"Then don't you think its time to bury the hatchet. You only seem to be holding back yourself by holding on to old grudges. Besides, hasn't he gotten enough of a payback by now?"

Sully looked down on her hooves.

"Maybe... HEY!? What are you!? Cardiac's apprentice or something?

Before Twilight could answer, Screwloose started howling.

“There must be somepony here! Hello! HELLO!”

The two mares ruched to the place to hear the mad mare growling at something. They rounded the corner of a pile of rubble, and fond Screwloose, showing all her teeth and aced her back at something.

At first Twilight thought the junkyard had come alive. before them stood a row of tiny, randomly thrown together pieces of junk. Walking on legs made out of knives and rods and cutlery. Waving at them with their arms made of tools and cogs and what have you. looking at them with their eyes of light bulbs and camera lenses.

Behind them, a body of a pony laid in the mud. Severely beaten and bruised and bloody. Several of the things crawled and rolled over the poor thing.

Whatever they had done to that pony, Twilight wasn't gonna let them do it any longer

"BACK FOUL THINGS!" She shouted. Her horn flared, her headache forgotten at the sight of a pony in danger, and she grabbed at least a dozen of the tiny robots and hurled the away over the yard. those that remained quickly scurried away into the junk-piles, like crabs to their hiding rocks.

The two mares rushed over to the fallen pony. It was a unicorn stallion. Yellow and green of color, or might have been, he was so covered in bruises that there were more blue and pink on his body than coat color, some of the bruises were so bad that they were bleeding One eye was swollen shut and his nose was broken and bent. Blood covering most of his face. Whats worse was that one of his legs where flayed and somepony had shoved pieces of metal into it. actual screws and bolts had been used to attach them to the flesh.
Even the horn sticking out of his forehead had been cracked.

Somehow the worst offensive was that his flank had been completely shaved, and the spot where his mark should have been was scrubbed almost all the way down to the muscle tissue.

It turned in Twilight's stomach just to look at the poor thing. What kind of monster had done this? What kind of depraved mind would violate a pony down to the point of desecrating their very symbol of their person?

The two mares gently bent down over him. Twilight was unsure if she should even touch him or not, but she could at least cast a shield spell to block out the rain.

"Hello ... Sir? Can you hear me?"

He responded to her voice by twitching and groaning. The one eye that wasn't swollen shut opened, and a green pupil started to roll around, looking for the speaker.

“Don't move!” She encouraged him. “I know you must be in pain right now, but..”

“Yessss.” came his reply, in a low wheezing voice.

"Just hold still" Said nurse Sully, readying a needle "I'm gonna give you a shot of..."

"Nooooooo." he wheezed again.

"No? Are you allergic to something?"

"Don't make the pain go away..."

Twilight and Sully looked at each other, they could hear him speaking clearly now. there wasn't even any hint of struggle in his voice.

“It feels so good.”

“Good? You are beaten all over!”

"Yessss ... Such a lovely experience."

Sully coughed in her hoof, trying to act professionally despite the insecurity's in her eyes.

“Sir ... Is anything broken, or ... ?” She asked.

“Unfortunately... No.”

He turned hid bloody face towards them. And greeted them with a smile. A smile in which most of his brown teeth were missing.
Then he let out a yawn, actually yawned, as if he had been woken up from a sauna.

Both mares stared in confusion at the stallion. Then at each other.

"I think we need another kind of doctor." Said Sully, using the needle she was levitating to tap her forehead.

Behind them, Screwloose was still letting out a low growl, refusing to approach the stranger. Her ears peeked at the sound of several empty canister got knocked over. And Cardiac emerged from behind a junkpile. The mad mare instantly rushed over to lick the doctor in the face. Even Sully breathed a sigh of relief at the arrival of her boss.

"This one is all yours boss." She said.

Cardiac was as shocked and confused as them over the mangled Stallion before them.

"By Celestia. What has happened here! What has done this?" he shouted.

"Did these things do this to you?” Twilight asked the smiling stallion. She magically grabbed one of the unlucky little machines that happened to bee peeking out from the junkpile. And levitated it before her.

“Oh no. My little darlings could never hurt me …" He answered "Unless I told them”

“Yours? So you made these things.”

“Yes, its been a little hobby ever since I moved here.”

"But... Sir. What has happened to you? Who attacked you?"

"A few of my associates came by. We had a little disagreement."

"Disagreement! Is that what you call it!" Twilight shouted, and gestured to all of him "Why would they do this to you! Your leg … your mark."

"Oh no. They didn't do this. I did."

There was a moment when Twilight was absolutely convinced that this stallion had suffered brain damage in the attack. her brain simply refused to believe that a stallion could mutilate themselves in such a gruesome way. But the wounds on his rear spoke a different story. The scar tissue was old. Older than all the bruises combined. And that smile, that horrible grin on his face that just refused to fade.

Sully let out a single, long question

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"

It sounded like the air being slowly let out of a balloon.

"To see it it would grow back."

The three sane ponies exchanged unsure looks. Cardiac nervously whipped his glasses of on his rain soaked coat, as it that would somehow help what he had heard. Screwloose just growled.

"Sir." Cardiac finally said, trying to take control of the situation "We need to get you inside. Its freezing out here."

"Yesss ... Lots of work to do. It has been an unusually eventful day. So many guests ... would never have expected ... Should have put on more tea."

Before they could object, the bruised stallion put his hooves under him and rose from the ground.

Surprisingly he was able to stand up and walk on his own. Not even a limp or sag to his stance. He held his withers completely straight and his head high as he marched past Cardiac and the growling Screwloose.

"Oh. What a lovely dog." He said, and stretched out his hoof to pet her.

Screwloose growled warning, and when the stallion refused to head her warnings - she bit him.

"Screwloose! BAD GIRL! BAD! LET GO!"

The stallion did not scream. He didn't even pull his hoof back. He just stood there with the mares teeth in his fetlock. Apparently even Screwloose thought it was too weird that he would just let her chew on him. And spat it out.

"Fasssshinating."

Twilight felt her stomach turn again.
There was no logical explanation for how this stallion could move so unhindered with such damage. She had to question if he was able to feel any pain at all. Or - Celestia forbid - Did he actually enjoy it? What kind of masochist was this?

***

The masochist had no trouble leading them out of the maze with a bite mark added to his scarred body. The walk back to the porch at the entrance was thankfully short and quiet, as everypony kept their eyes on the mysterious stranger. Sully refused to lower her needle, keeping it ready like a weapon against insanity. On their way out they ran into brick, who seemed to have lost himself in the maze. He too was so shocked by the walking corpse that he did not even try to joke about it,

Rarity could bee seen standing in the light under the roof, staring out across the junkyard with a very morbid look on her face. As they approached, she ran out to meet them.

"Have you found her!"

"We found something." Brick said before relieve his unstable bowels into a nearby rusty bucket.

Rarity stared at the newcomer, and took him in for all the horror that he was. Twilight was afraid she was gonna scream, have another seizure, or maybe just join Brick with another bucket. Luckily she showed more surprise than shock.

"Ah ... there is a face I remember." The strange unicorn said.

"D...Dr Morbid?" She said "I thought you were dead.”

“Dead?" Twilight looked from her friend to the stranger and back again "When?”

“It was during the great fire." Rarity answered, without taking her eyes of him. "I thought for sure you burned alive.”

“I nearly did” He said, and held up his mangled right foreleg. Where the metal had fallen of Twilight could see a naked,red barren wasteland covered in scar tissue so deep that she wondered if the damage did not extend all the way down to the muscle tissue.

“When the place caught fire, It was everypony for themselves. Our research was about to burn – I knew I just had to save some of the work. “

"Work? What work?"

Dr Morbid looked at them. The grin never leaving his face.

"I'll tell you all about it. But first, I think this reunion calls for some refreshments."

***

After that there was a long talk of introductions and explanations as Dr P. Morbious, as he called himself, made some tea, and served them all out on the porch by a table that a dozen or so of his little junk-bots carried forth. Though Twilight was the only one who tried some of his tea (a decision she would regret since it tasted like a cup of dirt). Rarity flat out refused, Dr Cardiac invented some excuse about allergies and Screwloose was Screwloose.

Brick and Sully walked off to talk about something Twilight could only guess. Cardiac just sat quiet and observed the strange Dr P. Morbious as closely as he could. Beside him, Screwloose sat quiet, but as tense as a guard dog on her post. Growling at any junk bot who got too close.

Regardless of what they said. It seemed impossible to to speed this stallion up on his story.

Twilight shook her head - Another one of Sweetie's makers. Was she seeking them out or something?

"A fascinating theory that I would not put past her, would not you to want to find out your origins if you could?"

"But. I already know my origin" Said Twilight.

"Yes. I guess your parents have told you all about how you came to be ... As is the duty of all parents."

He looked over at Rarity when he said it. She in turn merely averted her gaze, she did not want to have that conversation again. and neither did Twilight.

"And, what became of you all after the fire?" she asked.

"Sadly I don't know" Morbious said, and looked up dreamily at the sealing of his porch. "After the fire - we all scattered to the four winds - Or the four corners of the forest it would seem. I have been keeping an eye on two of them as they have been having a dispute for some time."

He gestured to some monitors placed on the shelves among all the junk. some of them were hosing still images of a rainy forest. One of them showed a fallen steel stallion.

"I did not expect that they would show up on my doorstep all these years later."

Twilight nearly spat out her tea.

"WAIT! THEY WERE HERE!? What did they want?"

"They wanted to talk, and we talked for hours it seemed. But sadly, they wanted to interfere with the experiment. And when it became clear to them that I did not want to interrupt the field test. Molten got a little mad, and he had his creations show me a whole new meaning of pain."

What was this feeling in Twilight's guts? Sympathy?

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. I thank him for it."

"Wait ... Wat was this Field test that they wanted to disrupt?"

Morbious smiled.

"The same field test I have been waiting all these years to see the results of. The test that started that day we lit the match inside the old compound."

Rarity reacted.

"Wait... You were in on that arson?"

"We all were. For various reasons. I did it for the experiment. After all - Her authenticity required field tests. I suppose that's why our dear Dr Bronco hatched the idea of a little disaster exercise. It was not too difficult to convince the others. Though i suppose the others had ideas of their own.”

He held up his mangled foreleg.

"Otherwhise ... Our dear surgeon Shockwave would not have lit the match prematurely."

Beside her, Rarity fave was turning as red as the blood that sipped from the wounds in his leg. Twilight almost did not want to ask what happened next. Not that she would have had to. As Dr P. Morbious continued on his own.

“When the smoke cleared, When the smoke cleared. Everypony was just gone. Me and Mr Molten got in touch some time later, we shared what we had gotten our hooves on, just as promised, and started out little trade. Then we simply waited for our little darling to return from her experiment.”

He let out a series of wheezings from between his remaining teeth. It almost sounded like coughing, but Twilight had the impression it was suppose to be laughter. Rarity tensed up till she looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

"It has to have been the longest field test that I have ever experienced."

“LIES” Cried Rarity, no longer able to hold in the pressure. “The were no more experiments! We ran to put an end to the tests! To put all that behind us! And don't you dare try to speak ill about Dr Bronco. He helped us escape! He had no ulterior motives!"

“But what has her life been if not the greatest field test in our projects history? Tell me. How did she fare? Was she authentic? Was she believable?”

His functional green eye swept across the table. Twilight could feel that poisonous green stare pierce her soul. He did not need an answer. he could read it in their faces.

"Everyone in Ponyville believed she was just an ordinary filly..."

“Intressssstinging!”

In the next second. Twilight vision was filled with tablecloth and flying teapots as rarity flipped the table over and threw herself over Morbious. She tackled him from his chair and pinned him to the ground, not one bit given for the wounds that covered his body.

"Her life is not an experiment!” She spat in his face.

Screwloose had also jumped from her seat and was standing right by Rarity, barking angrily at the stallion. Twilight and Cardiac had to pull Rarity off him. and even with two ponies Twilight had to use her magic to separate her furious friend from her victim. And even then she managed to claw some new marks into Morbious bruised skin.

“You bastard! You maniac!" She cried as she wildly waved around in Twilight's magic. "Always with your stupid experiments! It was you who took away her toys. You fed her grass just to watch her puke! You cut her! You lock her away! You did everything to make her life miserable!"

Morbious slowly rose from the floor. He gave them all a big grin as he licked a reopened wound on his fetlock.

"I was just doing my job" He said. "Tests needed to be done in order to validate her authenticity. And we all had our various areas of expertise. Like every foal must learn about the up's and downs of being alive, so did we have to teach her about every corner of the emotional spectrum. Not an easy thing to teach, since the emotional spectrum is like a sea of colors."

He finished licking his wound by the time Sully and Brick reached the porch. Cardiac got aid from Brick in holding Screwloose back from launching herself over the mad stallion, and Twilight had to hold her own friend still as Sully pulled out a pair of needles and rammed them into the rears of the struggling mares. It was not enough to knock them out. But their wild wailing slowly ceased.

Morbious watched it all with that never-ending grin on his face.

"Guess which area I’m a expert in.” He asked.

Twilight learned that holding a unicorn pinned in your magic did not stop them from using their own magic. Rarity's horn lit up and before anypony could stop her she had magically grabbed one of the nearby junkbots, and thrown it into his Morbious face.

Sully dug through her saddlebags and pulled out a small black ring. Just big enough to fit over a unicorns horn. She placed it over Rarity's horn, and her magic aura evaporated.

Twilight Slowly released her friend from her grip. Rarity was barely able to stand, the drug had made her groggy, and she looked so very, very tired. Jet not the slightest bit less furious as she watched Morbious pull himself from the floor a second time. Despite there now being a big scar on his forehead, right below his horn, he smiled like he enjoyed the treatment.

"You destroyed her teddy bear!" Rarity spat" I remember walking into the room with teddy ripped in halves and stuffing spread all over the floor. I thought she had done it herself in curiosity, and I spent the whole day there stitching the bear back together!”

“Yessss... You where the one to teach her compassion and … generosity”

If not for the magic inhibitor on her horn, Rarity would have thrown another robot at his head.

Instead, she walked away, muttering something about what she would do if he was hiding Sweetie here. She kicked in the door to his shack and entered. There was a short rustle Twilight looked between her friend and Dr Cardiac, who saw busy scraching a drugged out Screwloose behing the ear, wondering if they should do something or not. She could hear something rustle around inside the shack, followed by a fainted gasp.

She re-emerged in the doorway - with a dirty worn teddy bear in her hoof.

“Its Teddy.” She stammered in both shock and disgust “He took it... He actually took it!”

Twilight feared she would start beating Morbious with it. Instead she just started talking from memory.

“She cried so much. She always stopped crying when she saw me though – she just sat there watching me work. She never cared much about her old toys. She was always curious about new ones. But this bear … she would always sleep with it. Maybe it held a special meaning to her because I made it for her. We couldn’t take him with us when we ran. I made her a new one. A stuffy pony. Called “Stuffina”... And it was like Teddy had never existed.”

She hugged the bear to her chest as her eyes stared at nothing.

"Perhaps it wasn’t the bear or the pony themselves … But that I made them for her. That she saw me make them for her."

“Yessss... she always seemed to have a special connection to you. That's why we tested to lock you away from her for several days to see what would happen.”

This time Rarity really did start beating Morbious with the teddy bear.

“You bastard! This is why we had to run from you!”

Morbious didn't even attempt to deflect her blows as the studded animal bounced against his face. Twilight wasn't sure she wanted to stop Rarity's sell then harmful assault, and neither was anypony else. Stuffing started flying across the porch as Teddy was caught on Morbious sharp horn.

Rarity stopped herself, and stared at the broken bear as she realized what she had done. All expressions melted from her face as she in a sleepwalking state started collecting the stuffing and walked off to the edge of the porch. There she sat down, pulled out a pin cushion from her saddlebag, and started stitching the bear back together by hoof. Completely forgetting to remove the magic inhibitor from her horn.

Twilight carefully approached her friend, seeing that she used the pink straw from the road as thread to her needle.
Rarity's eyes were empty, foggy, almost dreamy. And Twilight could hear a faint rhythm escaping her friends lips

“... Thread by thread ... Piece by piece.... Stitch by stitch ... Stitching it together ... ”

"Rarity?"

Before Twilight got any further Dr Cardiac put a hoof on her shoulder. Shaking his head and saying something about relapse

“All this is forcing her to remember the memories she has repressed – the trauma is like an old wound opening up.”

"What... what can I do doctor?"

"Nothing. Just... Leave it to us."

Twilight reluctantly stepped aside as As Cardiac and the others moved to tend to Rarity. Leaving her alone with Morbious.
He just grinned at her, waiting for her to speak. He stared at her with his one eye. His green gaze fishing around for signals in her own.

She felt curiosity sneaking up on her mind, as well as a great deal of guilt. She could feel Dr Cardiacs warnings about her priorities ringing in her ears. But the curiosity was ringing harder. It told her that Rarity was in good hooves, and would not suffer if she asked questions. Besides, was it not better to arm oneself with knowledge of what they were chasing?

Twilight mentally kicked herself. Of course she knew who they were chasing.
But what was she made of... what did she even look like now ... ?

She asked.

"What else did you save from the fire?"

"Fassshinating." He hissed. "An actually curious soul. A kindred spirit with a passion for knowledge."

Twilight felt dirty for being compared to this creepy stallion. And the guilt was doubled.

Morbious rose from the floor, and quietly walked up to the door leading into his hidden lair. He nodded for Twilight to follow him before proceeding inside. Twilight took one last look back at the others. Seeing them all in progress of comforting her friend.

Realizing she would be superfluous, she followed the stallion in through the door.

***

The inside of she shack was not much different from the porch. Filled to the brim with scavenged stuff upon furniture that was made out of scrap metal. What did put it apart was the walls. they were filled with schematics, sketches and diagrams to the point where they covered every surface like wallpaper.

Twilight looked closer at the tapestry, most of it was of varying kinds of inventions, in quality ranging from blueprints to a sketch done by a foal. At first she could not see anything that looked like it had been saved from the fire of some secret lair. Until Morbious showed her the back wall. There, almost hidden amongst all the other paper, hung a schematic of a filly. It was magnified to the point that the image was as big as a full grown pony. And with details and markers showing off every vital part in a see through fashion. similar to an image of the pony anatomy - except all these organs were mechanical.

There were parts labeled things like "Automatic stomach", "Voicebox" and "Airpump" that filled the torso. The legs were filled with hydraulic pistons, and every joint consisted of a ball shaped abacus system. Each of these parts were incredibly complex and would require separate schematics dedicated to them.

Taking another look around the room, and Twilight began to see a pattern to the chaos. Hidden amongst all the crazy inventions were blueprints connected to this one machine. arranged in such a way that one would miss it upon first glance.

"You see it too ... don't you". Morbious grinned, sounding glad that somepony could crack his code.

Twilight silently returned her attention to the filly. Was she really looking at a see through version of Sweeties true self?

At the top of the Schematic, inside the cranial structure, where a brain would normally be sitting, was a single large circle. the label read "Cybercore." But unlike the other parts, There were no indication of any advanced components. The area simply looked blank. Almost empty.

She tapped at the circle.

"This... what is this?" She asked.

"That is where it all started." Said Morbious, and gave her a file (that was inconspicuous hanging behind another childish drawing).

Inside the file were a series of photos. Twilight nervously eyed Morbious. But he simply grinned and waited.

Twilight looked at the photos, they were unmistakable of the cranial autopsy of a small foal, looked newborn to be in fact. The cranium was sawed open and the entire top half of the head was removed. Leaving the brain utterly exposed. If it could be called a brain, the underdeveloped organ looked more like a lump of fat. the gray matter was there, but with barely any wrinkles to speak of.

Next to the patient was a surgical tray with all the equipment nicely lined up, amongst the tools was a suspicious blue disk. The photographer had clearly taken his time to get everything into the frame fro this documentation.

The next picture showed that disk inserted between the two halves of the brain. A series of wires were connected to the devise, as well as a few threads that had been put into the brain matter itself.

The next few pictures did not show much improvement (they had clearly been waiting for either the filly to wake up of the brain to become more active) But there was something – Thin blue lines has stated to appear in the brain matter . Spreading out from the blue disk, first as thin as wires, but they slowly thickened into tentacles, (It was almost as if the disk was growing.)

Comparing the photos with the x ray diagrams and a bizarre image started to appear. The disk itself stated to fill up with nerves that was growing into the crystal like a fungi, merging together.

The component was no longer an implant shoved into the brain matter. It had merged with it. Melted into it as thin red likes of nerves were growing into it. Rooting itself into the component as it slowly began to loose its form. The wall between the artificial crystal and the organic brain began to crumble as the two melted into each other.

Before her eyes – In this flash card format – the blue crystal disk was growing. Melting together with the brain tissue. The blue tendrils spread out like the crown of a three, thickening and growing more and more branches – At the same time – the thicker branches were becoming filled with red nerve threads.
Ir continued from image to image until the whole brain had been converted. What few wrinkles that had originally been present had smoothed out – and what had been a brain now looked more like a big smooth pearl.

Twilight kept circling through the pictures, as she kept shoving the picture on top to the the bottom of the stack so that she was re-watching the events again and again in an endless loop.

The nerve pattern had reshaped into something much more similar to a circuit board.

Sweeties brain had completely and utterly transformed.

“These crystals... what are they?”

“They are actually not crystals in the common sense. We just used that term because of the similarities. But they are actually very different in the chemical structure... one of the closest guarded secrets of our company."

“Closely guarded?" Twilight eyes him skeptically. "Was that the reason for the Arson? You were trying to steal from your boss?"

Morbious grin only seemed to confirm it.

"Indeed you don't know out boss, Neurosa" He said. "And truth to be told, neither did we. It is true that these ”artificial” crystals where created by her. For what purpose I'm not entirely sure. Maybe she wanted to make some kind of new battery for her toys. Or some kind of electronic devices for said toys. Maybe she simply wanted a storage device. Or a neuro-enhancer. Perhaps she simply tried to make some false diamonds to make herself rich. Since these woods are quite sparse when it comes to gems, and with the mail service being what it its - importing would have been quite costly and time consuming. So It was much more effective to grow them in her own basement.”

In the basement … Twilight remembered the cold dark corner on the bunker, with its weird liquid tubes and blue crystallized mass growing like fungi out of the walls. She had a feeling that a former rock farmer like Pinkie Pie would not approve.

“We found out one of your earlier partners were growing crystals in his own basement. He seemed to be using them to power his creations.”

She magically opened her saddlebag, and pulled out a few of the samples she had collected.

Morbid's eyes widened with delight.

“O yesssss” He hissed. “No doubt did Mr Molten try to recreate the majesty of the mare's processors. Even I am guilty of the same crime. For I use the same technology in my little darlings.

He looked closer at the blue component Twilight was holding out, and let out a sigh.

“But alas, he has failed. His Cyber-disks are but poor imitations of its beauty. Look here. Only one layer of circuit wiring."

“Cyberdisks” - Up until now Twilight had not had a label to put on the blue, flat things.

She looked closer at the disk. Indeed, the crystal she had pulled out of the steel stallion only had one layer of threads inside it. But she failed to see how the number of layers was relevant.

"Even I have not managed to mimic the majesty of that little mare's circuits." He sighed. "Regardless how much I try to improve upon the samples that Molten had brought me.

He took one of Twilight's samples, and threw it to the floor, hard enough to shatter it.

"They are worthless by comparison. For you see. That girl had layers upon layers of circuit wiring. They seemed to be drawing themselves." He pointed back at the flash cards" "Horizontally and vertically, three-dimensional. That's when we came to the idea to not use sets of tiny flat discs, but instead use a whole square, a blue box if you will, Or even better – an orb. That gave the circuitry something to grow in. It took on new shapes after that. Swirling from straight lines and rows into spirals and waves of circuitry. It was beautiful....”

His eyes dazzled of to the sky. Twilight could see stars dancing in them even though not a star could bee seen through the clouds.

Twilight herself became so lost in the thoughts that she did no longer notice the sound of the rain. So distanced was her mind from her body that she no longer felt cold or hunger or tired. Her head was spinning faster than a well oiled abacus. To think such a crystal existed. A devise that could grow and evolve on its own.

It sounded magical. That's because it had to be magic. That was the only explanation for such a metamorphosis.

But ... It did not explain the rest. Twilight still found it more believable that Sweetie had been walking around with a magical sphere inside her skull than having to be turned into a full fledged machine.

When she asked Morbious this. He grinned wider still.

"Because the brain was not the only thing that needed implants. The body had been suffering from muscle degradation since before she arrived to us. It comes with being little more than a living vegetable. The organs required constant hook up to life support systems to even function. And the best part was that even weeks after the success of the brain transplant - the organs kept failing. At an ever increasing rate."

Twilight just stood and gaped. As Morbious spoke, he started scratching his malformed right leg. As if talking about tissue degradation got under his skin.

“We started by implanting little pistons and bracelets into her legs- to help her move – But Marrow came to the conclusion that the bone – the skeleton would eventually wither and die. So we needed something that would last a little longer. Marrow and Mr Molten designed an all new skeleton for her. A frame of steel and metal joints - That we slowly replaced the bone with. But still the organs kept wittering away.”

"Eventually we replaced the muscle tissue with pistons, and then hydraulic muscles – another one of Mr Molten's masterpieces. Steel that looked and behaved like muscle tissue.

Twilight was in shock. He made it sound like Sweetie was already dead.

“Then... Why did you not just pull the plug?”

“Because, sister....”

Twilight cringed at being called that.

“...she was not dead. Oh no. The Brain activity increased with every cybernetic organ we implanted.”

He scratched his leg even harder.

"When the organs started failing, we replaced them. It started so small, just an artificial heart, then just a liver, then just the lungs. The brain - or should I say Cybercore - took them all in. Even though the artificial organs were not at first connected to the core it somehow found a way to register the organs and count them as part of its system. Most probably through the body's own nervous system."

That part did not sit right with Twilight.

“But why did you not save the body?”

“Oh, we could have saved the body alright- We could have kept it alive with regenerative talismans and crystals filled with healing magic.”

“Then why didn't you” said Twilight. As much as the thought of having a sweetie running around with an artificial brain was so far fetched and bizarre, it still made more sense than to continue with the implants.

“Because... the brain would not bond with flesh! If we had not given her a new body, then the brain activity would have been trapped in a prison of flesh!”

As he said it he scratched the deformed leg so hard that a blood vessel bust. A spurt of blood splattered onto Twilight's rain coat.

Trapped in flesh – the words echoed through Twilight's mind. She thought back to the crystal removed from Screwloose – who where meant to enhance her brain activity. It had seemingly done nothing for the mare - yet it stored her memories of the event like a recording. A recording that could only be read on a computer – by a machine. Crystals that stored memories like recordings – that absorbed magic – crystals that had energy sent into them that seemingly disappeared. Twilight knew that was impossible. All energy goes somewhere. It can not just disappear into thin air. Its just transformed....

Transformed...

She drew the lines between her mental dots – organic energy disappears into a Crystal that can only be read by a machine ….

“Are you telling me that these crystals have the ability to rewrite energy?”

Morbious stopped scratching his malformed leg, and his smile widened, until his grin stretched from ear to ear.

“So rare it is to meet a fellow genius” He said, and clapped his hooves. "Rewriting energy is probably just the right word for it. Cause that's when we made a discovery that changed everything . For while the organic parts where failing. The mechanical parts worked in better harmony than ever. We never had any problem synchronizing all the systems together. It practically did it for us.
It saved us months of programming. For the system seemed to already know how the organs was supposed to work how a body was supposed to behave."

He took a deep breath, and hung his head with a sigh.

"But. For as advanced the core was becoming. She did not want to live.”

“What!?”

"She did not want to live." He repeated. "She did not care. Oh, she might do what we asked of her alright. We fed her countless test programs. And she preformed the all without question. When asked to jump - she jumped. But she did not care.

That's when we realized that maybe there was something missing. All the little good things they say makes up a pony's soul. We tried to make her care. We tried to make her feel – anything really. Love, loss ,anger, sorrow, pain. We hurt her to see if she would develop survival instincts. But no. She took everything we threw at her. And then it was back to apathy. It was all just another test run for her. Can't say she enjoyed it – since she could not care.

We could type the words of 'love' and etcetera into her system. But those words meant nothing to her! We had hit a brick wall. We had a living computer with no emotion. No will to live! And we had no Idea how to give her one. We had no idea how to program emotions."

His grin widened again.

“That's when a rare thing happened”.

He nodded out the door, at Rarity, who where still stitching up the doll.

“A most rare indeed. For you see, one night, when we were seriously considering pulling the plug and call it a failure. that little mare did something extraordinary. She crafted her own crystal. what she did to it, or from where she got it, I do not know. As I have said, these woods are sparse with gems. She might simply have stolen from the boss, the little thief.”

Twilight gave him a mean look.

"Regardless. She created something that can only be described as a second Cybercore. A core that she implanted right where she thought her sister needed it the most."

Morbious slammed his hoof on the schematic, right on the chest. There, behind rib-cages of steel and mechanical organs was a small spot, set as to mark a hidden component that had not been on the original design. The added label was a simple yet powerful word.

Heart-Drive

Twilight looked back out the door, at her friend. Her mind returning to the strange crystal that her parents had brought with them. And the words that had accompanied it.

"You where the one who gave Sweetie her heart the first time. You are the only one who can do it again.
You are the only one who know how."

"Stitch by stitch ... Thread by thread ... "

Whatever knowledge Rarity might have possessed, it was locked away behind years of suppressed memories. And if she could not remember, then was it not Twilight's duty to try and help? To find some form of information about that heart of hers.

She turned to Dr Morbious.

"Do you have any schematic related to that device?"

"Sadly... There was only so much I could save from the flames."

Twilight lowered her ears.

"But I do have a video."

Her ears perked again.

Morbious walked over to a set of monitors that had been stacked in a corner of his shack. From behind another piece of the wallpaper he pulled another one of those blue disks. He inserted it into a slot by the side of the monitor, and pushed a button.

The screen came alive with a gray static. Morbious pushed another button, and an image appeared. It was a frozen image of three ponies standing in what looked like a medical ward. On the wall hung a couple of X-rays of a partly mechanical torso. On the left was a mare, orange of body and grey of hair, with the biggest and brightest glasses Twilight had ever seen. in her hoof she was holding another X ray - angled so that Twilight could not see what it was. On the right side of the screen stood a younger pair of familiar parents. And they looked worried.

Morbious hit another button.

-:: Recording begins ::-

The image started to move. The mare in glasses put the X ray up on the wall and showed it to the parents. It was a close ups of a heart shaped crystal. The mare pointed at the heart, where lines of light had begun working their way into the outer edges.

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Morbious pushed a few more buttons.

-:: Audio recording enabled ::-

“As you can see.” Said the mare in glasses. The .... (The next part disappeared in static. ) ... has begun working its way into the outer edges of the heart. The chemical composition and properties of the heart have already begun to change.”

“But...” The mother said. “If the properties of the heart changes. Would that not mean that its abilities... its energy...”

“Would be lost?” the mare finished. “Yes we believe so.”

The father gasped “What can we do to stop it”

“There is no stopping it. The damage has already been done. Just look at the cracks.”

She pointed up to the thin irregular lines that surrounded the outer edges of the heart. Twilight had a hard time seeing. Even standing close to the monitor she had to squeeze her eyes. But she did not think they looked like cracks in the common sense. they looked more like the lines in Screwlooses cyberdisk

The young couple shook their heads.

“Is there nothing we can do?” The father Shuddered.

“Well. We can isolate the undamaged parts of the heart behind a spell program – a firewall – that will make sure the energies of the heart gets out but nothing gets in. We can tie the energy of the program up to her battery so that it will run forever. And program its subroutines in the lower consciousness. That way she wont be able to tell that it is there.”

The couple looked at each other, clearly not understanding a word that the mare has said.

"That sounds complicated."

"Very" The mare assured "Such a complicated procedure would surely take its time"

"How much time?"

"A very long time, I can not say for certain at this point."

The couple looked at each other, this was clearly not what they wanted to hear.

"But... We were almost done ... We had already packed our bags."

“Look!" the mare sneered, starting to sound inpatient" If we do not do this properly, then I can not guarantee the firewalls efficiency. In fact its to early to promise anything. It might just slow the process down. It might just be a matter of time until the conversion covers the rest of the heart. Or she might as well just burn it out over time.”

“But what I f we could find a replacement.” Said the mother. “And transfer the energy to it?”

“Yessss... that could work. If we properly prepare that heart with the necessary spells and protection hardware. Of course such a procedure would have to be performed here, and no where el.....

-:: Recording ended ::-

Twilight stared at the static screen.

Rarity's parents had said something about the Heart-Drive deteriorating. She could see what clearly looked like cracks on the device on the screen. But not cracks in the ordinary sense. They looked more like cybernetic lines.

“You saw them to, didn't you?” Said Morbious. Waking Twilight from her thoughts.

“Those lines” She asked. "What are they?"

“Our greatest mystery." The edges of his smile shivered a little. Twilight suspected that meant he was smiling – if the smile had not been already stuck to his face like some kind of muscle cramp.

”We believed that the cyber-crystals absorbed all information and energy they come in contact with. Apparently that effect extended to other crystals. Our theory was that since the heart was hooked up to her systems - the Cybercore was been working its way into it. Transforming it.

And if that happened. The heart would loose its original abilities/properties – it would no longer be able to generate emotional energy. The heart would become a Cybercore itself. And Sweetie would lose her emotions. During her all too brief time with us, we were already able to detect a decrease in the hearts energy reading – it was small – and I mean 0.0001% like small. But it was happening. The heart signals was weakening."

Twilight gasped.

“The heart … It is not leaking... It is transforming. But HOW!? A transformation, regardless of how slow, requires the presence of magic. Even if it was not a spell crafted and cast by a unicorn It could still be nature magic. There is such a thing as magic mutation when magic energy simply lingers in the air and can have unpredictable effects on the land and creatures around it – as they slowly “mutate” under the magics influence. Was that what happened to this "Heart-stone". Was the Cybercore emitting sort of magic radiation!?”

“We detected no radiation.” Said Morbious.

"But that is impossible! If Sweetie was able to absorb magic energy, it had to go somewhere. Energy does not just vanish into thin air."

"We know. But that is the truth." He said, and pulled another paper down from the wall. This one a graph paper that showed energy readings from various sources. All of them the of electrical frequency that passed through the mechanical body and all of its systems. Another one showed all of those systems turned off during a test that was masked as a power blackout.

"Readings: Zero, Nothing, none, nada." Morbious stated "There was nothing coursing through that core other than the electricity keeping it operational. If they had not stolen her away from us we might have been able to preform more tests and determined the cause.”

“STOLE!?” Rarity shouted.

Twilight turned around to see her friend standing in the doorway, a re-stiched teddy bear in her hoof and a mask of fury on her face.

“SHE IS NOT YOUR PLAYTHING! SHE IS OUR DAUGHTER! SHE IS MY SISTER!. SHE IS OUR FAMILY! NOT YOUR EXPERIMENT!”

She shot Twilight an Ice cold stare, like she had just betrayed her by coming into the lair of this mad stallion. She cleared her throat, and tried to sound a little more like a lady. All be it an angry one.

"Are you coming darling? Screwloose has picked up her trail again. She can't be too far away, but we have got to move now."

"And you!" Her voice turned to poison as she turned to Morbious "Dr Cardiac wants a word with you!"

With that, she pulled the hood on her rain coat up over her horn, and marched out into the rain.

Twilight did the same. But as she was about to leave, one thing bothered Twilight. She was now more convinced than ever that there was some form of magical radiation – even if it was hidden both to her magic senses and to the most advanced measuring equipment in Equestria.

And secondly, even if Sweetie had suddenly gained a second heart shaped Cybercore, how did that meant she got emotions?

“Well..." Dr Morbious began "Our devices were, like I said, very much storage devices of information and energy. Emotions have a real energy to them. Changelings feed on it after all. We know this because...”

“You don't need to explain Changelings to me” Said Twilight “I have had my own run-ins with them.”

“Really?... Interessssting. Tell me. Have you ever been drained by one?”

Not me. But my brother has, Twilight thought.

"How did it feel? Morbious continued "Did it feel like putting a vacuum cleaner to your soul?"

"Where are you getting with this?"

"If you could do what the Changelings do - Take that energy - Put it on a recording disk - And then feed it to our little darling. Would she then not gain the same feeling as us?"

"I don't know. Nopony has ever done that"

Morbious creepy smile seemed to whined. And as she stared at that grin, Twilight felt her own mouth widen as her jaw slowly dropped.

"You can't ... be serious... "

He answered her only with a nod towards another door, hidden further back into his shack. There, hidden behind all the drawings that had been taped over it, was a door.

As Twilight stepped over the threshold, she noticed a small sign engraved in the wall, where a paper had fallen away.

Power Station

***

Inside was a poorly lit room. so Twilight had to use her magic to illuminate the place. She almost expected to find a Changeling nailed to the floor. What she saw instead was something more akin to a Scavengers throne. A mechanical, uncomfortable, monster that looked more meant for torture than science. It had wires coming out of all sides, All hooked directly into the big generator behind it. There was hoof-cuffs on the armrests and a strange helmet hanged in a thick collection of wires above it.

"Its another thing I saved from the fire" Morbious explained." Not this one of course, just the schematics. I had to rebuild the whole thing from scrap. I thought I use it to try and give my little darling some emotions.”

He gestured to the side of the chair. where - On a small altar, lied a tiny junk-bot, pinned down in a vise. Its spider like legs waved above it, and it produces a small metallic squeak that was almost drowned out by the electrical hum that was vibrating the room. in Twilight's ears it sounded almost like a scream.

"I pull some of my own readings trough this machine." Morbious said "And I put them in home made nerve cluster crystals, that I then insert into my little darling here."

Twilight just stared.

"ARE YOU COMING OR NOT!?"

Rarity marched straight through the shack to scream her impatience. She shoved her unfriendly face through the doorway of the generator room just as Twilight turned around. The light form her horn swept over the chair, and landed on Rarity's face just to see her let out a silent scream at the contents of the room. Her eyeballs rolled back into her scull. And she immediately collapsed on the floor.

***

Rarity awoke to a scream.

She threw her blankets of her and darted out of the bed.
The door to her room was standing only slightly ajar – so she needed only push against it with her shoulder as she ran out into the corridor.

She had been told to keep the door to her room closed. But she had to leave it open – in case her little sister wanted to come and see her again.

She ran through the steel clad corridors of the complex. The place was designed like a maze, but after living here so long she knew the place like the back of her hoof.

She came to a stop in front of a large double door. Like the one she had seen in hospitals that doctors usually push beds on wheels through. However, this door had no windows. It might once have been a hospital room on the other side. But that area had long since been turned into something else.

Into what, she did not know.

It was a door that she was not to go into. It was a bad door. A door that terrified her.
She had hears screams coming from inside that door before.
But this time the scream was different. This time it was the scream of somepony she recognized. It had been the scream of her mother.

Worry for her mother triumphed over her fear, and she pushed herself up against that door.
Just as she did, the other half of the door flew up and one of the female doctors rushed out of the room looking like she was about to puke.

It was the new doctor. Heartache ... or something, and Sweetie did not like her. She always seemed to be far too eager to get inside your personal space. She was far too intrusive whenever Rarity played with her little sister. Like a creepy old lady – except she was not old.

They had called her an expert on emotions. Rarity called her an expert in freaking her out.

With the door still swinging on the hinges from the mares charge Rarity snuck into the room.

On the other side was a flurry of activity. Pretty much every doctor was present, and they where running back and forth and yelling at each other. In the middle of it all was mother. She looked pale, and was shivering ever so slightly. Father was holding his hoof around her.

She wanted to ask what was wrong. But the words would not leave her mouth. Every time she asked that question bad things always followed.

Nopony paid any attention to Rarity. Tipping on the tip of her hooves she snuck in under the table. She did not want to make her presence known. She was not supposed to be in here and was gonna get in trouble if she was caught.

“I thought for sure a mother would be the one to get any response out of her." Said one of the doctors, Rarity recogniced the voice as Mr Morbid.

"And I thought you said this would not be so painfull!" Said her father. He was angry, but also sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

another doctor just shrugged

"She volunteered.”

“Maybe we should use the little one." Said the thicker voice of Prism Prestige "She is after all the only one that the subject had imprinted on.”

“OUT OF THE QUESTION!” Her father yelled. “My Daughter is not to be exposed to any of this!”

He pushed his way past the doctors, leading his wife out of the room. Rarity crawled together to make herself smaller. Begging that they did not see her. Her dad was already furious. What would he do if he found her here, where she was not supposed to be?

As they walked by she saw her mother was wielding a napkin which she whipped her red eyes with.

She was crying.

All the other doctors where sighing collectively as they left. Once the doors had swung shut, those who remained started talking

“That mare was hysteric.” Said Mr P.Morbid, almost with a laugh.

“You been in the chair – you know how it feels!” said the female voice of Marrow, Who Rarity used to call 'Mad'

“O yessss...”

“Do you really think it was the chair? Or the horror of one's child ignoring your every plea?” Said Dr Bronco.

“I still can not believe you think of that thing as a child!” Mad Marrow said, and snorted.

“Yea. But isn't her sorrow exactly what we are after?" Boomed the commanding voice of Prism "We need the emotional data if we are going to get any closer to seeing any response at all.”

“Never thought it would be so difficult to make a foal cry." Shockwave said with a sigh

“Its not a...” Marrow began again.

“I know you don't like it. Which is why you would not cry any tears over her.”

“Tears or not!" Marrow cried. "That chair can kill somepony. - it might have if we didn't pull the plug.”

“Agreed. I'm telling you it needs a safety feature. How many are gonna have to get hurt before you listen?” Bronco sneered.

“Progress requires scarifies my friend." Said Dr. P Morbid. A young stallion who, unlike all the others, was smiling from ear to ear. “And I'm telling you that we aborted the experiment too early. The charge is not high enough.”

“Then why do you not use that chair?”

Dr P. Morbid smiled

“I would gladly. But I have already given my fair share. It was after all thanks to me that we finally got her to respond to injury.”

Marrow grimaced.

“I am aware what you did to create those nerv-cluster crystals. Which is precisely why it cant be you - you would probably only feel joy if you where put in the chair again – wouldn't you? – you damn masochist.”

“This is different from that – we are no longer trying to create nerv-clusters. We are trying to make her feel.” The big blue stallion Prism Prestige said in a menacing tone.)

“Don't blame – you where the one to trust that new mare. - you where the one who said she was a expert in the field. ”

"I don't doubt her expertise. I'm just curious how this crystal of hers can do what we all failed at?"

“And I sometimes wonder what you put into that little mare … Metalhoof.” Prism snarled.

There was an odd silence in the entire group.

“Break-times over!” Prism barked. “Time to take a break.”

"Who says something like that? Shockwave muttered under his breath.

Everypony started leaving the room.

“Does anypony fancy a midnight snack?”

As the last pony left and the door swung shut she heard their fading voices.

“Should anypony check on the filly?”

“She is surely asleep at this hour. No need to bother her.”

Their voices died out as the doors swung shut.

Now that the room was empty did Rarity dare to come forth from under the table.

In front of her was the big chair. Big, uncomfortable and threatening.

She turned her head away from it to look up on the table they had all been gathered around. There sat her little sister – staring dead panned into the air. She sat perfectly still. Motionless like a statue. Not a twitch of her tail or ear. Not even blinking.

Her body was as dead as he eyes.

Her skin had grown back over her body and her fur had begin to look quite healthy. Yet patches of her skin where kept open. Small areas where one could see the steel structure underneath. Wires where connected to just about every part of her body. Plastic tubes where attached to her forelegs – and through them the red liquor of blood flowed to and from small pump-like devise standing next to Sweetie.

She had a beautiful pink and purple tail that Rarity had styled many times already. Yet her mane was shaved off, as the grown ups said it would be in the way. Truth was the back of Sweeties head was wide open. So many wires were connected to her skull that it looked like a mane of copper brown and steel gray. A mane that tangled into the machines behind her. Machines that in their turn where connected to the chair and the ominous green crystal attached to it.

Rarity's eyes darted across the room. Unsure of what to look at. Sweeties eyes, on the other hoof, remained staring out into space. Not caring about the many things around her. She sat perfectly still - Not bothering to move. Unable to care enough to do so.

Rarity made her way across the room. When suddenly there was a motion.

Only now, when only Rarity was present, did Sweetie react. Only Rarity presence made her turn her head. Just an inch, ever so slightly towards her.

Her lips curled slightly up. A programmed response to the strange readings the scientists had identified as “happiness.” Something that occurred every time she saw Rarity. And only Rarity.

It was the only emotion she ever expressed.

She had heard the grown ups talk many timed before. Talk about that Sweetie needed more emotions. That she needed to be able to feel sad and such. She did not understand why they needed Sweetie to feel sad. She did not want them to make her sister feel sad. Sad feelings were bad things. And she did not want her sister to feel bad.

Her parents had explained it as best they could. Everypony feels sad sometimes, they said.

“Its not like we want her to feel bad. But it would be awkward if she could not.”

Awkward was the right word for it. It was always that stiff smile and nothing more.

It had not bothered Rarity before. She was happy to see her little sister smile.

But right now she was not happy. How could she be happy when mother screamed so horribly and looked so sad.
Was she sad because Sweetie could not feel sad? Had she attempted to cry and scream in front of sweetie to make her sad
– if so, it had apparently not worked.

From what Rarity understood they where trying to teach Sweetie to feel by feeling it themselves.

But they did not understand why it would not work.

Sweetie had a habit copying everything she saw. For that reason Sweetie and Rarity had been allowed to play together in the “playroom”. It was the only nice room in this place. The only room that didn't have the same metal gray walls as the rest of the facility. It was a filly's dream-room with soft pink walls, soft pillows and more toys than you could even dream existed. It even had a miniature sewing machine and a ton of fabric that she could use to make all kinds of things. She had made a teddy bear/pony and lots of clothes for Sweetie to wear.

The only creepy thing was a big mirror on the wall. She was not suppose to know this, but she knew there was a room on the other side of that mirror, and that from there you could lock through a window into the playroom. She had been able to piece together that it was some sort of magic glass that was a mirror on one side and a window on the other. And through it the grown ups where watching them play.

She did not understand why they had too bee in a different room – if they wanted to see them play they could just come into the playroom. But they had said that they did not want to disturb them – Rarity had made it a game to sometimes wave towards the mirror. They had also put up a lot of crayon drawings around the mirror frame using stickers in the shape of hearts and stars. The doctors had actually told her that she was not to put anything over the mirror itself (otherwise they would not be able to see them play) – the new mare, Miss Heartache, had spilled the beans and admitted to the reason – they really, really wanted to see the two sisters play together.

And play they did - A lot.

Every time Rarity did something Sweetie did it too - Passing a ball to each other - Jumping on the cushions - Ect...
She always did the exact same things Rarity did. Every time Rarity drew a picture Sweetie tried to draw the exact same picture – every time she made something on the sewing machine. Sweetie tried to copy it – with mixed results. Always with that same tiny smile plastered on her face. The smile reserved just for her.

She was not like other little siblings Rarity had heard of. She never put things in her mouth (unless Rarity did it first). She did not drool, scream or poop herself all the time. In fact she never pooped. (She must be the only little sister in the world who never needed diapers.) And she never ate. At least not as far as Rarity saw. The doctors had been very clear that there was to be no food or drink in the playroom of any kind.

And they were not allowed to sleep together. Always when playtime was over they would take Sweetie away. Usually to “Fix” or “Improve” something as they said. Mother said that they where going to make her little sister better. And she was getting a little better all the time.

Rarity remembered when Sweetie first started blinking – although it was in a very rhythmic pattern.

They all just said she just needed to be patient for the day Sweetie would be so good that they could leave and live as a normal family.

Sometimes it would take days before she got to see Sweetie again. But sometimes Sweetie would come to her in the middle of the night – and be standing there watching her when she awoke. (Usually with some piece of wire sticking out of some body part, or dripping a weird fluid) - much to the bafflement of the doctors.

She had even begin teaching Sweetie to speak and say certain words and letters. Partly of her own volition – partly of the doctor's asking her to do it. When she asked why they could not get a real teacher they said that she would be such a great sister if she taught her little sister some things... and that Sweetie must be curious about her bis sister and such.

When they though she wasn't listening, They said other things. she had heard them say something about her little sister “Imprinting only on her.”

Sweetie had been quick as always to mouth up the sound of letters (once she had gotten her voice installed - as they said) and attempted to copy everything Rarity said. It was annoying sometimes how she would copy her and no one else – and a bit creepy that she did it all with her mouth shut. When asked how she could do ventriloquism, Sweetie had just repeated the question. Rarity had gotten mad, and the doctors had come into the room and separated them.

They said they where gonna fix that. The next day Sweetie spoke with a weird unnatural flapping yaw movement. (so was it often – Sweeties voice sounded terrible in the beginning and the doctors would often take her away to “fix that” or “adjust” this and "fine-tune" that.)
Eventually Sweetie's voice got better and she started learning to mouth the sounds Rarity taught her. (yet still she spoke in that weird non emotional tone.) Most excited Rarity was about teaching her to spell their names using a set of big plastic papers with letters on them that the doctors had given them.

Then Rarity had been happy. Now she was sad.
She was sad for mother. Sad that mother was crying. She was crying because mother was crying.

She laid on the floor of the creepy chair room, and cried.

Up on the table Sweetie kept watching her.

Rarity looked up at Sweetie.

She was not sad. She did not cry because mother cried. She did not know how to cry.

The grownups had been trying to teach Sweetie to feel a lot lately. Rarity had tried to help by making faces during their playtime. “Angry” - “Sad” - “Surprised” ect... Sweetie copied these acts. She even made noises similar to crying when Rarity made them. But these where not real feelings. And as soon as the act was over, she reverted back to that silly little stiff smile.

Rarity looked up on the chair. From what she understood you where to sit in in and feel. And somehow that would teach Sweetie to feel.

Her parents had been very clear that Rarity was to have no part in this.
But they did not understand how it felt to be a child. They were grown ups. And grown ups cried for different reasons. Sometimes they cried for reasons little Rarity could not understand. Sometimes they were scared of things that where exciting to children. And in reverse they found boring stuff to be exciting and insisted on dragging the children to go along with it.

They were silly, they were grown ups. They could not understand how it was to be a child.
How could they possibly teach Sweetie how it felt to be a child when they where not children?

Rarity looked upon Sweetie again. That empty smile made her cry new tears.

If Sweetie wanted these tears than she could have them. She could have them all.

She had already given sweetie so much. Why not give her some more?

She got on her hooves, and climbed into the chair.

A big helmet started to lower itself onto her skull. It was a weird helmet, full of wires sticking out of it. Coming to think of it - while wearing this she would look almost just like sweetie looked now – a mane made of wires.

The chair gave an ominous hum and a crystal next to it started glowing in an ominous green.

The lights in the room started flickering for a moment. As the hum only grew louder.

Then there was a zap.

Rarity might have screamed. Out of pain or shear terror she did not know.

The whole chair buzzed and vibrated as if bolts of lightning where shooting everywhere. Tendrils of energy poured out from her and there being sucked into the chair. Sucked into the ominous green crystal.

It felt like holding a vacuum cleaner to your soul.

Any normal reaction in this moment would have been to throw the helmet of and jump out of the evil chair.
But Rarity gripped the handle even harder.

It could have been an eternity. She did not know. The machine might as well have sucked all fife out of her. She might be a wrinkled old lady now. She did not know.

She lost grip on reality.

The next thing she knew she was lying on the cold tile floor.
She must have fainted and fallen out of the chair.

The chair came to a stop. The buzz became quieter and quieter and eventually stopped.

Rarity had held a vacuum cleaned to her skin before and gotten a hickey on her throat. This time if felt like the suction-mark was inside her.

She had cried like mad one time in her life before – and that too had been related to her little sister – she had cried and screamed and wailed until all her tears was spent and her body had tired of crying. Until her eyes felt dry as sandpaper

That was nothing compared to this.

She felt empty. Like every tear in her chest had been taken from her. Like the lump in her chest had been drained away. Like the knots on her heart had been stolen.

But no happiness filled their place. Only exhaustion made itself known as she collapsed on the floor.

She heard nothing but the hum of the machines, and the buzz of the lamps.

Her vision was beginning to go black. She felt so very very tired. Not in body but in the soul. She needed to rest now... Yes... She would sleep right here

Suddenly movement filled her vision as the door flung up. And a shriek like one only her mother could produce filed the air.

“RARITY!”

She felt herself being plucked from the floor like a ragdoll. And was pushed into a tight grip of somepony's forehooves.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?”

Rarity managed to open her eyes just enough to her her mothers tear streamed face looking down on her.

“I just wanted … ” she panted “ … her to be able … to feel.”

The grown ups started screaming at each Other. Their voices hurt her ears.

“My darling! My dearest little filly ... You look so pale!”

“DIDN'T YOU LOCK THE ROOM?”

“I thought everypony was going to lunch!”

“I told you to keep her out of here!”

“This proves That the machine need a safety feature – what if it had taken even more? - she could have died!”

The Screaming come to a sudden halt when something else filled the air.
It was soft at first. Just the insecure sniffs of a filly that cant decide if it want to cry or not. Then the sniffs broke into sobs. And the sobbing rose and rose in volume until it was like the bellowing of an abandoned foal.

Everypony in the room turned to look at the table. There sat Sweetie. Holding her hooves over her eyes and blubbering like in infant.
The sound she made was like the sound of a child Crying for her mother.

Because she was.

She was crying for the first time in her life.

It was a sound that moved them all. Even though it was a sad sound. It was the happiest, most beautiful sound Rarity had ever heard.

For somehow she just knew. Knew that her sister was crying because she had been crying. Her little sister was sad because Rarity was sad. Because mother was sad. Because father was crying. Because everypony was screaming.

They all moved up to Sweetie. The Belles in the front row. Not knowing where she got the strength from Rarity was able to climb out of her mothers embrace and walk up to her little sister with every intent to comfort her.

“There, there little Sweetie. ” Said mother “Mommy is here now”

She picked Sweetie up from the table and held her as close as her mane of wires would stretch. She had to lean her elbows on the table to properly take Sweetie in her embrace. And when she did, the little mechanical filly stopped crying.

“M...Mom.”

Even though the lips where not moving, she spoke. It was a word that Rarity had reached her. Manny times she had used a picture of their mother – or pointed to her when they walked the halls together - and repeated that word until it was imprinted in her little sisters mind.
And many times before had little sister said that word – but it no longer sounded so hollow. It sounded genuine.

Mother gasped.

“She... She recognizes her mother.” She gasped with new tears in her eyes.

The little mares eyes moved around. Finding the mustache adorned stallion leaning on his wife.

“D...Dad.”

“Yes!.. this here is your father.” Mother said. and rubbed her hoof against the cheek of her crying husband. “And this here is your sister...”

Mother tilted her forelegs so that the little one could see the filly standing on mothers other side.

Little Sweetie looked at Rarity. And her sadness in the voice was replaced with joy.

“Rarity!” She said with clarity.

“Yes” Stammered mother (who now was so full of tears she could barely speak) … Rarity... Her name is Rarity. .. I guess you already knew that didn't you?”

The scientists walked up behind them.
Sweetie started naming all of them – names that Rarity had given them -

“Grumpy … Miss yellow pants … Brown Boo … Doctor mare... Mister P...”

“Interesting. Said Dr P. Morbid.”

Dr Heartache was fully enjoying herself It was as if she was right now imbibe the worlds most beautiful aroma.

“Let me hold her!”

Neurosa walked in through the gathering. Her glasses shimmering even in the poorly lit room. She stretched out a hoof all enthusiastically, wanting to hug the filly. But Dr Bronco stepped in between. The stern Neurosa for once said nothing.

Rarity managed a smile.

“And do you know your own name.” Mom booped little sisters nose “It's Sweetie – Can you say Sweetie?”

Of course she can. Rarity thought. Remembering how she and her sister had been playing their 'game in the mirror' – whenever they waved to the scientists on the other side, they also waved to themselves – she had to remind herself that Sweetie did not know about the room on the other side.

“Wave now.” She had said. “Wave to Rarity and Sweetie.”

She waved – matching Rarity's movements exactly.

“No. Don't wave at me – wave at them.” Rarity turned Sweeties head to face her own reflection.

"Do you recognize us? Rarity and Sweetie?"

“Ra...rawity?” The filly struggled with the words. her voice stammering like a radio stuck between channels.

“Yes. I'm Rarity.” She said and pointed at herself in the mirror. “and you are Sweetie” She pointed at sweeties reflection.

“Swewe...we?” said the filly, and touched her own reflection.

“Rarity” Said Rarity. And this time she touched her own cheek. The filly copied the movement and did the same.

“...And Sweetie”.

The filly locked at the mirror . Where its reflection was now touching its own cheek.

“...Sweewee...”

"That's right". Said mother. Snapping young little Rarity out of her trance and back to the present. "Your name is RARITY!"

Wait? What?

RARITY!

No, that wasn't right!

RARITY!

***

Twilight was standing over her fallen friend. Shouting her name and trying to get her conscious again. She didn't know if she would have any choice but to use the mind delve spell. If Rarity was trapped in some nightmare she had to get her out of it.

She lifted up her lifeless friend. She held her face close and lit up her horn. If she was gonna use the mind delve she was gonna have to touch her forehead with her horn.

“Sweeeeee.... Teeeeeeee” Rarity mumbled.

Twilight ceased the spell. Her friend was coming back to it.

“Rarity? RARITY! Can you hear me?”

Without warning Rarity's eyes shot open, and she lunged herself at Twilight. She grabbed her head in her forehooves and screamed in her face.

“HER NAME IS SWEETIE BELLE!”

Author's Note

A way too long chapter with way too many thoughts

Chapter 20. Crying without Tears

The rain spattered against the dark windows of Roaring Ricky's Roadhouse. The road ahead laid as quiet and empty as the dinner inside.

It was then that the back door flew open from the force of a terrible buck. In from the rain stepped metallic figure, rainwater drenching of its armor and its hooves full of dirt.

Two red eyes scanned the perimeter looking for any signs of life.

As it found none. It proceeded to move into the workshop. Letting the rain and the cold weather in with it.

“I am not a failure.” It said to itself in a raspy, broken voice. “I am not a failure.”

Sweetie had been running for longer than she cared to think about when the roadhouse came into view. When first she saw it, she almost thought she had circled around back to Molten Metalhoof. the roadhouses was kind of similar - Except this one had a diner next to the workshop instead of a grocery store. This one was also completely closed and abandoned for the holidays. Perhaps that was for the best. As Sweetie had been getting thoughts of teaching every soul in there to fear her.

Jet she had not readied her blasters. She did not want to waste energy charging them up for nothing. So she had simply kicked the back door in, the one leading straight into the workshop.

One thing this place did have in common with Molten's-Gears-and-Groceries was a well equipped wagon workshop. Housing tools of all the trades. Exactly what she needed right now.

She needed to be able to take care of herself

“I'll show them. I'll show them all!”

After wiping her broken right hoof off on on some paper she gave it a good looking over. The repair program might be able to do something about it. But she needed to conserve her restoration buffer. She had no Idea when she would next be able to recharge on repair magic.
It wast meant to fix serious damage anyway. So she would need to repair it by hoof.

But first she needed to get undresses from her battle gear. Easier said than done, as the armor had been attached by bolts into sockets on her frame.

She looked around the workshop for something to help her with the removal, and soon found some suiting screwdriver and wrenches.

The armor also had a complex layer system where every piece overlapped one another, so that no part of her body was left unprotected. It meant that it was hard to remove. Since the detachment points were hidden underneath the overlapping. It might have been impossible if one did not know how the armor was constructed.

Luckily she did. By scanning the many schematics of steel stallions in her mind, Sweetie was able to figure out where the contact point was.

In truth, it was no more complicated than one of Rarity's dresses. Sweetie knew her sister would fold them in such ways that it hid the stitches. Having been standing, a living manikin for more times than she wanted to count – Sweetie knew how to get in and out of a dress, no matter how hard it sat.

The tools that Molten had used might have tightened the screws beyond what any pony could remove by hoof – But it was nothing to the strength in her metallic grip.

Screwdriver in hoof – She managed to detach the bolts, one by one.

The armor was eventually removed from the right leg. Exposing the her body for what it really was – A cold steel frame overlapped by cybernetic mulches, and vein-like wires.

The damage could have been worse. One of her muscle pistons had dented and another had broken right off. Worse, one of her hydraulic muscles had compressed into itself. Like a telescope that had been crushed so that it could not be folded out again. (No wonder the repair system could not fix it - it didn't have the ability to push the telescopic hydraulic out to its right length). The wirework was still mostly intact, even if a few wires on the damaged muscle had been torn off.

Sweetie collected herself and started to think. Her mind was full of Steel Stallions. Their automated anatomy was not too different from her own. A lot of cylinders and hydraulics for muscles, that connected to the sphere shaped joints by piston axles. It helped that her infrared vision also came with a scanner that helped her identify the parts and pieces.

Sweetie re-grabbed the screwdriver, and got to work.

***

Sweeties hoof moved once again. It creaked a little in the joint as she turned it around, but the overall functionality was restored.

She had to pull the compressed hydraulic out to the right length. The many sections in the telescopic function fried as she did so, but finally the pieces detached from each other and she was able to re-attach the broken piston axle into the muscle. The repair system took it from there, and restored the hydraulics from the inside. The broken wires, Sweetie simply duct taped together – before eating the leftover duct tape roll to add some variety to her restoration buffer. The dented axle, she bent back into place using a wrench. Perhaps that was the main source of the creaking?

The repair program complained that were still a hundred little things that needed to be fixed in order to restore perfect condition. But she hushed it. She would not waste her precious repair magic on scratches and marks.

It was not the prettiest job. But it would work.

See. She could take care of herself. Would a failure been able to do that?

She added some oil to the joint – then took a big slurp of the black liquid herself, because why not? Her distribution system would use it to lubricate whatever it needed from inside her body.

Besides. Was this not how robots were suppose to behave?

Sweetie swallowed. Now what was she supposed to do? Remove all her armor and take a bath in oil? She doubted that there was enough oil to fill a bath tub. Even if this place had one. Besides – she could not reach to remove the armor on her back.

Maybe she should take a bath regardless? She had dirt under her hooves and mud in her gears. And her armor was dirty. She could scrub it. polish it until till it sparkled. That was something robots should do right? Put on chrome like it was makeup. Who said a machine should not care about how they looked?

She looked down on her greasy, messy naked foreleg. That was how she looked now. A skeletal frame clad with cybernetic muscles, and broken pistons, wrapped in a tin foil of scratch filled, titanium enhanced battle armor.

She took another swing of oil, and picked up her leg bracelet. It was filled with scratches caused by sticks and stones, and a big black scorch mark endowed the center, like she had been struck by lightning. Weaponized lightning, to be precise. The magic enhanced death-ray had left a deep cut along the side that had almost cut through the armor - and taken one of the attaching screws with it..

Sweetie picked up her shoulder piece, it had been bent and dented from several rock hard blows.

She was about to start looking for something to polish herself up with when a couple of black drops fell upon the piece. She whipped them away, but new specks started falling. Specks as black as oil.

After looking up to see that there wasn't some Oil drum leaking above her (sad - That would have been perfect to bathe in) she noticed that the drops were falling from underneath her eyes. From her teeth.

Wiping her jaw made her hoof drenched in oil.

Alarms started ringing in her head. But her systems told her nothing was broken - At least nothing mechanical. But there was something missing. Her lips. She could drag her hoof straight across the enamel. Producing a xylophone like tune

Without lips, the oil she poured in her maw would sip right through her teeth – In fact. Without any palate or gums in her mouth – It would just sip through her jaw.

at once - Sweeties anxieties about her looks shifted to the one place that mattered the most. Her face. Did she even have one? Her head was the only part of herself she could not see when looking herself over. Not without a mirror.

Sweetie looked across the workshop, and found a small wall mirror hanging right next to the door which led further into the roadhouse.

She metaphorically swallowed. She had not looked in a mirror since arriving at the mental hospital. Before the fire.

-:: Anxiety levels rising ::-

Her Heart-Drive warned her of the shock she had suffered, when first laying eyes upon her naked steel frame. when all she could see of her own face was that small iron square of her muzzle (if she crossed her eyes really hard.) The only part of her that had not been walled away behind a mask of titanium.

But another part of her had to know. If this was who she was - then should she not be able to look upon herself? Besides, how else was she supposed to brush her teeth clean of robot juice?

-:: Sarcasm ... failing ::-

Sweetie pulled up a stool, Silently cursing her own height and lack of a functional growing protocol as she ascended it.

She didn't look into the mirror straight away. She slowly took off her helmet and lowered it over her face. Inch by inch it sank lower as she eyes over the rim. Perhaps that would ease the shock of what the mirror was about to show her.

She saw her iron forehead. blank, bald and -probably thanks to her helmet - Scratch free. To the point it seemed to shimmer in the infrared of her vision. The only thing that endowed that metal orb was a metallic rod that was suppose to be her horn. (Gray with spiral shapes blackened by soot where the fire had even burned away the color.) And a pair of arch's on the sides. They might have looked like ears except they were hollow. Their only function having been as support frame for the thin flesh of her ears - as the microphones were buried deeper down in the turning mechanism that was now making those arch's flatten against her skull.

Sweetie lowered the helmet further. And found herself staring into a pair of red glowing eyes. She nearly jumped back, and the sudden movement caused her to loose balance and send the helmet flying. She rocked back and forth on the stool until balance was restored, then closed (turned off) her eyes.

She had not thought about what her eyes actually looked like to the outside world when her vision turned to red. Be as it may that that the infrared always colored everything in shades of red, but those Irises in the mirror had not been a simple recolor. they had been shining like headlights, added on top of seeing her red eyes through infrared mode - and the effect was almost glowing like the pits of Tartarus.

If she was designed for intimidation factor - then it was working for sure.

Sweetie fumbled with the light switch that sat between the mirror and the doorframe. She turned her infrared vision off as a dim light filled the workshop, and looked back up into the mirror.

What stared back at her - was not Sweetie Belle.

It was some form of skeleton. A metallic skeleton.

The front of her face and muzzle was nothing but a bare skeletal frame, Her muzzle with drilled holes that had once formed her nostrils - connected to tiny tubes that led to her airpump. Her teeth shining unrealistically white against the black and grey surroundings. Those that weren't blackened by oil that is. Oil that now dripped like drool from her hollowed yaw. Without any skin covering her throat, she could see the tubes of air and food behind the throat pistons.

Her cheeks actually were not hollow like a skull. But full of tiny hydraulic mechanism that controlled her yaw like muscles - and by extensions the rest of her face. Out from those cheeks - as well as from around her eyes - she could see the small pins that had once connected to her skin. Small electrodes that had controlled the muscle tissue through tiny electrical stimulating sequences.

Her eyes. Full and round, rotating freely in their exposed sockets. Staring unblinkingly due to a lack of eyelids.

Her eyes. That looked the same as they always had. She could even see traces of red upon the tired cornea. Small red tendrils of veins filled the outer rim of what should be an infected, irritated, dried up eyeball.

Yet her eyes were not dried up. Tired, yes. But lively. As lively as they had always been.
The eyes that were suppose to be the mirror of the soul. But she had no soul.
How could she not have a soul with those eyes?

Unless... they to were a lie.

“...you have your fathers eyes.”

“But my fathers eyes are blue...”

Both eyes shot down for a second in according to her blinking subroutine. And for a second, Sweetie thought they looked better, before fading back in to their worn out red.

She shut off only one eye. and with the other she stared as the color slowly vanished from the corneal. The red lines slowly disappeared from the eye white. And even the green color of her iris faded out as the power left the eyeball. eventually the once lively green eye was nothing but a circle of grey and black.

A lie ... a well designed facade made to cover her true self.

She scanned the blueprints for an answer. And while the Steel Stallion optics had nothing on her level, they still had a protective casing. A pair of lenses that covered the lower optics like the glass on the front of a camera.

Or -As Some part of her told her - essentially like contact lenses. Covering her true visual receivers.

Like contact lenses - could they also be removed?

-:: Yes ::-

Without thinking any further she reached up and put a hoof on each of her lidless eyeballs. The blueprint in her head told her the correct way to remove the cybernetic lenses covering her true eyes. She started twisting clockwise respective counterclockwise. Like removing the lid from two jelly-cans - until finally the eyes popped out of her skull.

She was now sitting with half an eyeball in either hoof and looked back into the mirror. Into her true eyes.

If they could be called eyes.
They where more like two green tubes glowing in the depths of her eye sockets.
Two contact points surrounded by craters of cybernetics. The inside of her eyes. Sweetie's vision went hazy without the lenses. But she was able to see well enough with only two black holes in her cranium.

This was it. There was no longer any barrier between her and her true form. No fur. No tail. No mane. No skin. No eyes. Nothing that could give her the illusion that she was anything but somepony's soulless automation creation.

“Yeah. Like anypony is ever gonna think that thing ever looks like a real pony."

The mirror exploded, as Sweeties forehead made a high velocity impact with the glass.

She headbutted the wall a few more times - digging a hole in the wood as her horn pierced the panels. She then kicked the chair away from under her and allowed herself to fall to the floor.

She wanted to throw the fake eyeballs away. But couldn't. Maybe because they held some sort of sentimental value? maybe because some part of her tell her that she needed the lenses to cover her visual receivers.
She put them back, to prevent from doing something she might regret. She wanted to hold on to them, like the last shred of her former identity. Sweetie Belle the pony.

Like anypony was even gonna call her that ever again.

She thought about all she had lost. her friends. Her home. Her family. Her skin. Her mane. Even the squeaky voice that had been her trademark. Behind her, A pathetic pink stump was barely visible sticking out from the armor that covered her tailbone. It was more like a dot of pink on her armored rear than the swirly tail it had once been.

She wanted to hug a tail so bad. She wanted to have some curls to play with.

Maybe ... maybe if she just waited long enough, her tail would grow out again. Her regeneration crystals still had some power left in them. Even if they had their hooves full with keeping the little skin that remained on her from decomposing. Maybe if she could find some way to recharge them, they would be able to grow her skin back. And then her fur and mane would return.

But that would not change anything. She would still be nothing more than an automation dressing up in a meatsack. A robot pretending to be a pony. Because that was who she really was.

A robot.

Was that finally beginning to sink in? it didn't feel any more real than when she first laid eyes upon her damaged fetlock.

Dr Cardiac had said everypony needed to accept who they really where.

Then Why, why was it so hard to accept she was a robot.

Because I didn't want to be a robot... did she?

Sweeties logic center was looking for an answer to that question. Weighting the positive aspects against the negative.

Her emotional processor simply said that “No” was the right answer.

But who had put that answer in her? Who would program a robot to not want to be a robot?

"No." She said to herself "I don't want to be a toy. I don't want to be a Bloodbott. I don't want to be a Steel Stallion. I don't want to be a experiment. I don't want to be a soulless automation I don't want to be a failure."

The answer seemed clear. She didn't want to be a robot!

But Just who would program a robot to not want to be a robot?

-:: Because I was programmed to be a little filly ::-

-:: But I'm not a little filly any more. In fact I never was... But I was never suppose to find out either ::-

Sweetie had finally figured it out. She could never get used to being a robot. For she was programmed to be a little filly. But she was not a little filly. She was a robot. Buts she would never be able to come to terms with that, because of the programming telling her she was suppose to be a filly.

-:: Endless loop acquired ::-

-::Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...Processing ...::-

-:: Overload in progress ::-

Sweetie shook her head. The wheels of thought spun over and over again in her head until she feared she would suffer meltdown.

To prevent herself from breaking down, she grabbed her helmet, and stormed through the door and into the diner, to give herself something else to think about.

***

The diner was nothing too special. just your typical fast food restaurant and sandwich bar - Complete with an actual bar-disk dressed with a lot of square panels along its long side. The same type of panels sought to give some volume to the otherwise sterile walls. Behind the bar there was a shelf of non alcoholic drinks and sandwiches conserved in air tight glass containers.

The seating places consisted of a row of round metallic chairs at the front of the bar, and a row of tables and benches alongside the big stain glass windows, giving the guest a lovely view of the rainy darkness outside. all free of fabric like cushions or tablecloth in order to make cleaning easier.

A fan creeked in the roof, having gone useless during these colder months. From it hung some half wilted mistletoe. Forgotten as the owner closed up for hearth's warming eve. Some red ribbons also covered the shelves behind the bar. In the corned at the far end of the bar stood a jukebox, had been outfitted with a pair of crossed, fake candy canes. And in the other corner stood an arcade game machine.

Sweetie walked up to the arcade and hit the start button. The screen lit up with a bit of eight-bit white text.

Rock Blaster -
Insert 1 bit -

Sweetie didn't have any bits on her. Neither were there any bits lying around. She devoted herself to searching the place. Setting the scanners in her eyes for every possible location one could find a little round gold coin. She searched under the tables, under every seat. behind and in the bar and looked inside every bottle on the shelves. but her efforts were fruitless. Even the jukebox or the cash register was empty.

Refusing to give up, determined to distract herself, Sweetie pulled the arcade machine out from the wall. And had a look at all the wires on the backside.

She had previously been connected to another computer frame by that access port in her neck. She removed her helmet and started tapping herself in the neck. Not exactly feeling her own hoof as much as registering the force she was tapping with, until she found the ponytail of wires hanging back there.

Sweetie sent a small electrical surge through her "hair", feeling the tickle and sparkle as they connected with her iron hoof.

She pulled out a wire from the arcade machine and bit it in half. She watched the little sparks jump from one end to the other. Some lesson in school had taught her that electricity always travels one way. That there is a transmitting and a receiving end on all electronics. She put the receiving end in her mouth and held it in place with her teeth. The other, more sparkly end, she brought to the back of her head. Feeling the tingling energy sipping from the wire and into her ponytail of peeled wires.

She told her repair system to send some of that duct tape glue she had just consumed into the tips of her 'hair'. Despite the 'ponytail' not being part of her original design, it could still travel wherever the waves of electricity could carry them. She might not have a schematic for this - But she could well enough imagine how a wire was supposed to look - and told the repair system to merge the two ends together like any other wire in her body.

Carrying millions of tiny particles to the tips of her 'ponytail'. The repair system began to construct a layer of insulation around the edges of the transmitting live wire and her ponytail. holding it in place as the repair magic merged the two ends together.

Even though she was not able to see, she she could feel the wire weaving into her 'hair'.

She was connected.

Sweetie could feel the energy flowing through her systems, fuzzing out the negative thoughts with a satisfying tingling. She stored away a small amount of that power into her battery, and let the rest flow out the other wire in her mouth, into the arcade machine. It was nowhere near the same level of bliss that a dozen generators had done for her, and her battery told her it would take several hours to recharge to full capacity like this. But at least she would have something to do in the meantime.

She extended her own energy into the receiving ends path, and followed the flow of electricity into the arcade machine's circuitry. Once there, she began checking around all its systems until she found the Bit-register. She told it to boot up as if she had put in a bit, and the arcade game started up.

She pulled out some more of the wires from the machine, until they were long enough for her to get in front of the machine, and play.

The game "Rock Blaster" was just like the title suggested: a simple game were you moved the magical little something around and blasted all the rocks that where falling from the top of the screen.

(Game creators often avoided controversy by making the playable characters something other than ponies instead of having to choose - and potentially favor - one of the tree pony races - In this case it was not hard to see it would have been a unicorn)

The simple objective was made more difficult by the fact that bigger rocks broke into smaller rocks that you also had to blast away. All the while bigger and bigger rocks came falling with increasing frequency until you would eventually be buried in the avalanche - resulting in a game over. and a high score based on how long you survived and how many rocks you blasted.

To spice things up - special things could come out of the blasted rocks that gave you bonuses like stronger blasters or life or other power ups. The playable little something could blast in two directions. Up to shoot the falling rocks, or sideways to destroy the rocks on the bottom of the screen before they piled up and buried you. (Provided they didn't hit you first). So the goal of the game was two-folded: don't get hit by the rocks and don't get buried.

Sweetie played away. But alas was having little luck. Having rarely played any video games, her reflexes were not up to par, and the game was designed to be impossible to beat. She could just not switch between the two firing modes fast enough to clear away all the rubble that built up at the bottom of the screen and keep the falling ruble away at the same time. And the power ups were so rare and often fell behind the ruble where she could not reach it, she wound get buried or hit before she could get a single one.

Even with infinite imaginary bits on her side. The gave was proving to difficult to be fun. If only she could shoot both ways at the same time, it would be easier.

A sparkle of creativity entered her mind. She extended herself further into the machine, this time she entered the game's source code. Sweetie simply sent it her desires, and the code started re-writing itself to fulfill her wish.

Now the game was proving almost too easy. Having no problem clearing all the rocks an the bottom as she simultaneously blasted them out of the sky, she lasted much longer. But eventually the rock slide became ridiculous. She needed to be firing faster, in more directions. Sweetie hammered on the controls, but it simply was not fast enough. She instead let go of the controls - and entered them with her mind. Now she could control the little something directly. She was able to move and fire as fast as the programming would allow. Faster than any hoof could mash any button. She could also see the rocks, before they would appear on screen. She knew where the game would spawn them and was able to predict their movements, she could also see which ones held power ups and of what kind. Yet even with this inside knowledge being fed directly into her brain the game would eventually get too fast and overwhelm her. It was on the 300th try that Sweetie got so frustrated she told the rocks to stop.

They stopped.

The game froze, and awaited her instructions. Out of curiosity she wished for the rocks to float back up, and they obliged. and then she had them resume falling at a speed she could keep up with. But why stop there? Why not increase the number of power ups. Why not make them rain from the top of the screen and turn the little something into an overpowered bullet sprayer with infinite lives? why not make the rocks fly sideways? Why not change the rocks to flowers? or apples? or snowflakes?

One eyes was watching the chaos that was happening on the screen. The other, inner eye, were watching it from the inside. The game had ceased to be, the screen was now Sweetie's playfield. where she could make anything she wished for come true.

Was this how Discord felt at times? Just the sheer joy of turning a established formula into your own sandbox? To make anything you could think of come to be? Besides, Sweetie was not hurting any other pony. In fact, had not the game creators hurt the little something more than she did, by condemning the character to this tragic existence of trying to stay alive in an endless avalanche? Locked in an endless repetitive cycle, whose progress depended on somepony else's ability to push buttons. Doomed to fail and repeat for eternity.

What was the little something supposed to be, anyway? Was it a he or a she? It was a white little something. Kind of like angel. Futtershy's little bunny rabbit. The sprites on screen changed as the playable character morphed into a pixalated rabbit.

Sweetie decided that it was a she. Her name was Little White. and that she came from a small mountain village. that Sweetie was now finally gonna take her back home, away from this tragic existence.

The sprites on the screen changed, Small houses appeared in the background, and scrolled past as the little snow rabbit jumped past them until reaching a big round house that kind of looked like a carousel, where three other rabbits were waiting. Two parents and one bigger sister.

"That's right little one, you get to go home now." Sweetie whispered as the family of pixelated rabbits hugged each other.

Sweetie shut off her eyes and took a deep long sigh. When she looked back on the screen, the family of snow Rabbits had changed into a family of ponies. And the already carousel shaped building behind them had become Rarity's Boutique.

Sweeties wish had entered the arcade machine, and was being drawn up in front of her.

Her own pixelated face appeared on the screen. A whine smile spread across that furry white hide.

Sweetie reached up and touched the screen. Wanting to touch that face. Feel it. She wanted to feel the hugs that those other ponies were giving her in that pixelated drawing. She wanted to go home. She wanted to have a family. A family who loved her for who she was and not for what she pretended to be. She wanted a world where everything went the way she wanted. World where she could do anything she wanted. Be anything she wanted. have everything she wanted.

She wanted the world that existed on the other side of that glass screen.

Could she extend herself into this machine? Could it become more than just a living drawing?

-:: !Warning! // Unable to comply // Hard drive is full // Remove space to clear hard drive ::-

Sweetie let go of the screen. She could not put any more of herself into this arcade than she already had. Its hard drives was full.
She could feel herself filling up its circuits. Filling every memory file with her memories. Like the machine was becoming an extension of herself.

As far as mental capacity went, it was nothing. She was an ocean, and the arcade was a drop that had been added to that sea. but physically the machine was bigger than herself, she would not carry it with her. But what would happend if she pulled out the plug and separated. Would some tiny part of her disappear? She might have extended herself into that machine, but she did not want it to be a part of her. She did not want the game to be part of her. But all of her activities in this arcade had already been stored in her own memory bank.

No - The memory bank ensured her that she would not loose anything if she pulled the plug. everything was stored and copied here in her head. If anything, she had grown from this experience by absorbing the data.

Sweetie did not want to be a data vampire. But at the same time, was not this energy what was suppose to make her grow? But then again, did not more data mean her old memories would disappear into ghost code or whatever? She did not want anything to disappear.

Very slowly, she pulled herself out of the arcade machines systems. Carefully, to not take anything of its code with her. She might be a computer vampire, but she did not want to have this junk filling up her memory. It was a bad, stupid game anyway.

Not that what she left behind was much of a game. Her playful hoofprints were all over the code. If a game designer could see their creation game right now, they would not recognize it.

It felt like she was shrinking. Like all the air slowly being let out of a balloon she deflated back into her ponified, mechanical shell.
Her pixelated face still filled the screen, smiling at her. Sweeties being might have pulled back from the arcade but the imprints she had left would remain.

"You might have been the world's most advanced super computer. But a computer none the less... "

Dr Pain's words echoed through her mind. A mind that was a computer. Like the one she had just been inside. Like the one she had briefly made a part of herself.

Sweetie looked up at the arcade. She could still feel the electricity pass through her. But she was no longer a part of its systems. And she was no longer a part of it.
But she was still a computer, like this thing in front of her. A simple Machine. A simple stupid machine that could not even hold a thousandth of her mind.

Its simplicity was an insult to her existence.

SHE WAS NOTHING LIKE THIS MACHINE!

She told it so to its face. It responded indifferently, by not responding at all. The face of the own creation continued to smile so mockingly at her. A mockery of her dreams and wishes.

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

Sweetie spat the wire from her mouth and pulled the other one away from the back of her ponytail. The arcade went black as the power was cut. But it would still hold a part of her, the creation that she had dreamt up. It would still have that smug pixelated face floating in its systems.

Sweetie whipped up her Blaster Masters - and blasted Rock Blaster away.

***

There was now a black crater on the wall and floor. The game machine had ceased to be. Its pieces had been strewn all over the diner.
Sweetie had restrained her blasters with just enough energy to 'only' destroy the arcade, and not the wall behind it. Broken wires were everywhere. Sweetie could not believe one so simple machine could have so many wires. but only one of them was of interest to her.

She picked up the sparkling transmitting end of the wire that had connected the now pulverized piece of junk to the electrical outlet in the wall. She bit down on it and sucked it like a straw. The tingling feeling of energy filled her mouth as she drank from the outlet until she was recharged.

She pulled her hoof through the 'ponytail' on the back of her neck. It tingled most satisfyingly as energy sparked and snapped through the broken wires. No... she did not want to think about them as broken wires any more. From now on, they were her mane - Who was to say a robot could not have a mane? A mane of wires - It seemed to make sense.

She wanted to pull a comb through that mane. But it was much too short for her to do anything with.

Sweetie looked around at the mess she had made, At the broken wirework that remained of the arcade. She picked up a non functional cable that had landed at her hooves. It was a long thread of copper that almost seemed go glimmer in her infrared eyes. If she had a mane as long as this, she would have something to work with.

She brought the wire to the back of her head, but then a better idea entered her mind.

She went to grab a plate from behind the counter. and onto it she began scooping up as many wires as she could find. She then pulled the electrical outlet out of the wall. Long enough for her to reach one of the benches. There she sat herself down at one of the table. and began to eat the copper wire like spaghetti. Occasionally taking another sip from the wire, to wash down her food with some energy.

When her buffer was overflowing with copper, she told her repair system to send it all out into the edges of those wires in her neck. The repair program once again reminded her that the plug in her neck port were not part of her original design. But she hushed it. Her logic center also complained that she was wasting restorative energy on something pointless. But she hushed that too.

This was not pointless - It was a matter of sanity.

And so - particles were added to the edges of her mane, slowly but steadily increasing its length. Sweetie could feel them getting longer as the electricity had to travel further and further. Yet so painfully slow.

She needed something to do before the thoughts came back.

Wire still in mouth, She leaned back and activated a memory file at random.

***

Sweetie once again found herself observing through the eyes of a foreign body. The data accustomed to the body functions tried to load, but were shut down for the risk of pain. And perhaps a good thing too. For as the recording started, Sweeties ears was immediately assaulted with the sound of a furious voice.

"THAT FILLY NEARLY RUINED EVERYTHING!"

Sweetie barely had time to organize herself and her ears were already ringing. She was once again sitting at the round table, in that poorly lit conference room. The lack on any infrared vision made the room seem even darker, but she could still make out the silhouettes of two ponies holding back a third, green stallion. There seemed to be a lesser tumult going on. As every pony was shouting and talking at the same time.

“Mr Metalhoof – Calm yourself!” ordered the stern voice of the mysterious mare in glasses. “Its hardly her fault that we did not lock the doors.”

"Then I demand we install locks on all doors! Code controlled locks! So no one else can sneak around and sabotage as they see please.” Metalhoof shouted back. He had stopped struggling against his two restrainers. Who Sweetie could now see were the pegasus called Shockwave, and the mad mare Marrow. Sweetie could feel the lips of the pony she was occupying curl up into a smug smile as she watched the furious stallion

The lips separated to form words. And the the sly, calm voice of a stallion left her mouth.

"Ruin? Sabotage? More like saved everything. The Crystal she made is exceptional! Let us use it. Let us use her!" Said the big blue unicorn.

“Will the parents allow it?” Said the brown earth pony called Bronco. “They were pretty clear before that they did not want their daughter to be part of this.”

“Like it or not," Sweetie's mouth answered, "That filly has dragged herself into this. And she had pretty much proven that she wants in, by breaking into our lab like that. If she wants to be a part of this so damned bad, she can get it!”

“Ain't you missing the point?” Said Bronco “She has been a part of this since the beginning – the whole point of this project is to see if that little machine can develop real emotions for that family.”

“And the way she responds to Rarity … The way she is drawn to her … It's just fascinating.” Said a third stallion

That voice could only belong to Dr Pain. Even if he did not drag the word out to a hiss like Sweetie remembered.

“Even if it does not have emotions, it sure seems like she has imprinted on Rarity” he finished.

“She tore out my bloodpump to put that rock in there! She ruined my design!” Metalhoof sneered. “I Will not allow her to be part of anything! I demand that childish heart shaped thing be removed from the construction!"

"You are just mad that a little filly managed to do what all of us failed at" The black demon by the name of Necro said with a laugh.

"The “Heart” sits good where it sits." The mare in glasses said calmly. "The main processor have already registered its energy and is now counting it as a part of itself. - Removing it now would be counter productive.

Metalhoof sneered but remained silent. Shockwave and Marrow let him go and they all returned to their respective seats. Now that calmness had been restored. The mare in glasses took a long deep breath, and continued.

"This may be our big breakthrough. You all know how the central processor saved us years of programming by absorbing all the necessary data about body functions from its surroundings. This “rock” might be able to do the same, but with emotions instead.

“But it creates another problem." Said Shockwave the Pegasus. “The blood pump wont fit now. And without it we will loose the tissue.”

“Not necessarily.” Sweetie felt her own lips say. “Since we are already talking about crystals, I believe we already have our solution.”

The lips curled up into a smug smile as he basked in everypony's attention. Just when someone was about to ask him what he was actually talking about, he aborted them.

“Since we are exploring the crystals ability to store energy, I believe its time we took it to the next level. We charge a few crystals with rejuvenating magic, and apply them to her structure. I believe that will keep the skin alive and well.

Shockwave shook his head.

“What you are saying if we should keep alive that which is already dead. If one of these crystals fail, the skin will begin to rot and deteriorate.”

Bronko buried his equally concerned face in his hooves.

“The skin is gonna be cut of from the rest of the system, we wont be able to find a way to distribute nutrients from the stomach to the organic tissue. - It will become like a suit. A full body suit made of flesh and blood.”

"This is starting to sound like a horror story.” Necro said with a smile. “But look on the bright side - The filly wont really need to eat to look healthy. Neither will she be able to grow fat and ugly."

"Will you stop obsessing over the figure of a newborn you..." Shockwave started. But the mare in glasses aborted him.

"There are more reasons than the look of our subject to keep the hide alive - we do still need the skin if we want to collect proper data on the sense on touch. Because without a surrounding layer of nerves - the subject wont be able to feel the world around it. We need to make sure the signals of the nerves actually registers with the mainframe. ”

Dr Pain gave a weird smile.

"I believe we can to hook up the nerve endings to the sensory-equipment we have been working on." He said. "It can act as a bridge between the biological and neurological systems. Something that translates the electrical impulses from the nerves into data - and back again. I also suggest that in case we do lose the tissue, we continue our development of nerve cluster crystals that can emulate the true feeling of skin - In case we are gonna need another from of external housing – something that could emulate the look and feel of real fur.”

"You mean an ... artificial skin?" Bronco asked.

Marrow spoke up

“While we are on the subject of emulation of true to life body functions, I think its time we start discussing inner body functions. Such as hunger, exhaustion, sleep and breath - to name a few. If this is going to mimic a living pony as true to life as possible, it needs to be able to feel these things.”

“She” Bronco corrected “Not it… She”.

The others ignored his comment, with varying degrees of annoyance.

“How do we program bowel movement?” sighed Necro. “And how are we going to make it go potty?” he laughed.

Good question. Sweetie thought, Why did she go potty – she could not think of any other reason other than appearing natural.

“Easy.” Said the mare in glasses. Mr Metalhoof's cybernetic belly will need a way to dispose of sludge material and fluids that will need to exit the body the natural way. I'm sure if you 'geniuses' but your heads together you can come up with a way to make that sludge look “natural.”

Mr Molten did not look pleased.

“You want to lower the effectiveness of my creation!?”

"I aim to increase it” The mare reassure “lets not forget that our subject will be digesting other things than metal and crystals.”

Metalhoof was about to say something. But mad Marrow aborted him.

“Before we get ahead of outselves. ”She said “You should consider that Nopony here has any idea of how to program a true to life body emulator.”

Dr Pain scrached himself in the back of the head, and suddenly shined up.

“I have an idea. We need to collect data on body functions. We can then store that data in the crystals, the same way we stored brain-waves.”

The mare in glasses put a hoof to her chin.

“I see... We could in theory connect the crystals to the nervous system, The body signals all operate on tiny electrical frequencies. So we should be able to copy those."

“But... to do that we need to preform tests on real life ponies.” Marrow said with an alarming tone. “In other words, We'll need to do it on ourselves.”

“You mean. Like Guinea pigs?” The others said nervously.

Dr Pain cracked an evil smile.

“Any volunteers?”

Marrow was not done.

“Its not just sense of touch that needs to be discussed." She persisted. "The other four senses of taste-smell-hearing and sight needs to be addressed as well.

Molten Metalhoof spoke up

“Actually, those things could be constructed mechanically, using some smell sensitive equipment for the nose, some microphones for the ears and cybernetic lenses for the eyes. The lenses could be similar to what you have in a camera.
My point is: There is already measuring equipment that is really true to life sensitive – in fact, its far better than our own biological senses, at detecting smells and sound, and even taste.

“But they want true to life, so we have to limit the settings on the equipment we install.”

“We can test the equipment, and program its recognition of smells...

“NO.” Said the mare in glasses “That is exactly what we will not do! We will not install any pre-knowledge of anything. Instead, we will let the filly discover her senses for herself. And we will then simply teach her what different smells are called. Like all foals have to be taught.”

“I agree.” Said Bronco “This is to see if she can learn on her own”.

“But how will we know if she smells things the same way we do?” Necro asked.

The mares glasses shimmered as she smiled

“We don't. we will simply tell her that chocolate smells like chocolate – if her perception of the same smell somehow is different from ours is not of our concern, for she will still learn to identify it as the same as we all do.”

The others nodded in various levels of agreeing.

The mare in glasses gave out instructions to everyone in the room and ended the meeting
Everypony rose and left the room, except for the mare herself, and the big blue body who Sweetie was occupying.

After everypony had left, the mare turned towards this stallion. Her glasses shimmered as she tapped her hooves under her chin.

“If we are gonna start experimenting with putting emotions into crystals, we are gonna need an expert on emotions. And I don't just mean a psychologist. I mean somepony who truly understands the magic and energy behind them.”

The two exchanged a look

"Perhaps some-one who understands it better than any-pony does."

Sweetie felt "her" lips smile even wider.

“Don't worry." they said "I know just where to find one.”

-:: Recording ended ::-

Sweetie looked up.

Lesson learned. Never look another one of those memories ever again. They did not ever make her feel better. And the last thing Sweetie needed now was more questions around her authenticity as a filly.

A filly ... that was what she was supposed to be... Right?

She had been created to be like a real filly ... Right? But now those ponies said that there was no way of knowing if she would truly be like one. They could not program her senses, because they had no idea what they were doing.

Senses. They are different to all ponies. Sweetie remembered a philosophy she had been taught in art-school. That color is but the reflection of light upon a surface. And that every eye might register that light differently.
If one pony looks at a leaf and see the color green, Or at least they see a color called green, their eyes perceive the world in a specific way - a specific tint of color. But what is the next pony gonna see? Maybe they see a completely different tint. A different shade. They only call it the same name because they have been taught that that particular color is named green.

The same held true for all scenes. After all, one pony could say that something smelled good, and another thought it smelled bad. Some liked tea, some coffee, some milk, Others could not stand the taste. Everypony perceived the world differently.

What if she did not perceive the world the same way that everypony else did? How could she? She had already lost her skin. And even when it had been attached, it had only been a meatbag connected to sensors. Sensors that could be turned off when the pain become too much to bear. How could she possibly know what real pain was like? Her eyes were visual optics with built in infrared vision. Of course her perception of the world was different. And her other senses were hyper sensitive electronics. Her ears were microphones that picked up sound better than any normal pony ear had the right to do. Her nose had only-her-makers-knew-what that could pick up and analyze smell on a level that only a dog should be able to.

How could she ever be a real filly?

But if she was not a filly... Then what was she?

Looking down on herself. She was a mechanical skeleton with ports for an attachable battle armor, yet she was no Bloodbot, and her blasters were a joke that drained her energies faster than a vampire fruit-bat would drain an apple. She had been sold to her family, to be their toy, even though she searched for so many more aspirations in life. She had been an experiment. An attempt to create a real filly, an experiment that had failed.

Or maybe she was still an experiment? She was not blind to the fact she kept running into people that all had something to do with her creation. Maybe her whole life had been just one big lie? Just one really, really big test to see how she behaved. Maybe that was what Dr Pain had tried to tell her? Maybe everypony in her life was in on it. Maybe they were all actors that secretly conspired with the scientists that monitored her. Maybe this whole traumatic trip had been orchestrated by those scientists, to see how far they could push her? Maybe they conspired to destroy her life, just to test her reaction.

Was that all she was. Just a rat in this torturous maze?

Sweetie looked around the room. Scanning intensely for cameras mounted on legs, or otherwise.

-:: Paranoia level rising ::-

She did not want to be an experiment. She did not want to be either of those things. But then... what was she?

“What am I suppose to be? What am I?”

It was a question that had haunted her for as long as she had searched for a cute little mark. All that crusading she had been doing to find out just what she was meant to be. Ironic – was it not – that it was just that very crusading that had brought out the truth.

But how was she supposed to find a purpose, when others had designed a purpose for her? If they even had decided on one. Those ponies did not seem to be able to agree on anything. Not with their hundreds of versions of Sweetie's future body, and contradicting interpretations of her true purpose and all.

-:: But if you had no direct purpose – then are you not free to pursue your own purpose? ::-

It was a thought that should please her.

But for some reason it didn't.

How was she suppose to find a purpose, in this cold harsh world that seemed to reject her at every turn? The long term goal of living forever and maintaining herself did not seem like a very tempting purpose.

She wanted something more in her life. Needed something more.

"I want ... To become a real filly."

She looked out through the window. up at the rainy dark sky. Somewhere up there, the star of Hearts Warming Eve must be shining still.
And if she could make a wish upon that star, just one wish in the whole world, it would be to become a real filly. Mom had always said that if you wish for something genuinely enough - the stars will hear your wish - and grant it.

She thought about an old poem her mother used to sing around the Hearth's Warming fire.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.

Sweetie started chanting. and by the end of the song, she made her wish.

Nothing.

She sung the song again and again. and wished again and again at the end of every replay. And still nothing happened.

She let out a sigh.

Maybe it was not enough to just sit here and wish upon the dark clouds. Maybe she needed to go out there and find some way to make her one wish come true. Or MAKE it come true.

The thought filled her with yearning. And the yearning became a burning desire to make it so.

That's right. She was gonna take control of her own destiny. She was gonna become the pony she wanted to be! And if the stars would not aid her. Then screw the stars.

She would have stuck her tongue out at the stupid stars - If she had anything to stick out.

She wanted to become a really filly again. She had no Idea how she was gonna do it. But somehow – she was gonna do it. Because her life as a robot sucked!

-:: Logic error // Not having to breathe under water // Being able to turn your organs on and off // Being able to see in the dark // Having super sensitive senses // Being able to lift nearly 200 times your own weight ... ::-

Especially that stupid logic processor.

Maybe Sweetie could do something with the help of some magic? She would have to find a powerful wizard, or a wish granting genie, or even Discord, and make him turn her into a real filly! She did not care how long it would take – She was immortal after all.

-:: Logic error // Surrendering this body would be to surrender immortality ... ::-

-:: SHUT UP! ::-

Maybe she could even have her mind transferred into a real body.

She shot an angry look at the pile of aches that had been the arcade machine.

-:: Logic error // Your body is real ::-

But was her feelings real? If all of her senses and all of her thoughts were artificial. How could her emotions be real?

Her emotional processor seemed sure that they were real enough. But how could she know? Maybe that's why the stars did not answer? She could not want it genuinely enough.

The words of Dr Pain, Who she had tried to get away from, ever since she ran from his junkyard, echoed in her mind as the recording played again and again. (a voice she could not outrun, a voice that only existed in her head.)

"So the question ... the only question becomes as thus: How do you make a computer - a machine - want something? how do you teach it to feel the many pains of life? How do you feel pain without a body? How do you feel sadness without tears to fell? How do you feel anger without blood to boil? How do you feel sorrow, with no heart to sink in your chest? How do you feel love, with no heart to fill it?”

-:: !ERROR! // Does not compute ::-

Sweetie could not comprehend this. Could she not feel love without a heart? Was she unable to feel sorrow or loss without a heart either? Why did she then feel like she did? Had not Dr Cardiac said that emotions came from chemicals in the brain? And not from the heart. That the heart was just a muscle that pumped blood anyway?

"How do you feel love, with no heart to fill it?”

All thoughts of despair that knocked on her emotional processor was punched out by a single thought.

Could she feel love? could she feel anything? Love anypony?

This was a question more elusive than if her artificial senses were genuine. If Sweeties emotions were nothing more than code on a crystal like disk - then were they not artificial too? how could they be genuine? Was "love" not just a program that had been inserted into her upon her creation? And if she was just programmed to love - did that mean her emotions where not real? And if her emotions where not real. How did real feeling feel? How does it feel to feel???

She remembered Dr Cardiac's words:

“A mind is such a fragile thing. It can burst and shatter if mistreated.”

She needed to treat these thoughts very carefully – one misstep on that logic part. And she would tumble down into despair. Another meltdown. And she weren’t sure her systems - that SHE, could take it.

-:: Initiating crying sequence // !Warning! // Tears Sacs not found ::-

No. She could not take it. The pressure on her processors were becoming too much as the thought spun around again and again. And the fact that she could not cry did not make her any better.

-:: Initiating crying sequence// !Warning! // Tears Sacs not found ::-

But she wanted to. Sweetie wanted to just lie down and cry for a moment, even if just a short one. Her emotional processor felt so full of tears that she thought she was about to explode. If she wasn't allowed to cry. She would thought she would literally go insane!

-:: Initiating crying sequence // !Warning! // Tears Sacs not found ::-

Sweetie gritted her teeth, she wanted to cry. She NEEDED to cry. It was how she vented all her emotions. Without any ability to vent them, they would just build up inside of her.

-:: !Overload in progress! ::-

Case in point!

In sheer spite of the circumstances, In desperation to distribute her negative energy, Sweetie sent more and more energy to her eyes. Her eyes started blinking red as it shifted from and to infrared, and every icon available started dancing in her vision as the optic lenses started to overload.

There was the faint sound of a double frizzle. Almost like two balloons popping. And Sweeties vision went hazy. She raised her hooves to her eyes. What was happening. Was she spontaneously combusting now?

-::Internal systems check // Sinuses Lubrication line ruptured due to violent increase of pressure // Leakage detected ::-
-:: Repair program on standby ::-

Drip ...

Drip ....

Drip .....

Drip ......

Sweetie removed her hooves from her eyes. A small back puddle was forming underneath her. Tiny black dots were falling from her peripheral vision. Her hooves were likewise stained with some of the black stuff.
Her eyes turned off and on again in an emulated blinking. But this did not clean her eyes of the substance like a pair of real eyelids would. Yet another thing she was missing.

The repair program remained dormant. Obediently waiting for her to let it patch up the damage. Jet, she remained there. Just looking down into that puddle. Just watching the drops fall from her eyes.

Oil instead of tears.

As she leaned over the puddle. Something else fell into her vision. A small strand of copper.

Wondering where it had come from, she grabbed it. She instantly felt a small tingling, bout in her hoof, and in the straw.
Continuing to touch the copper strands, she trailed them up over her head, and found a whole bundle waiting for her. She pulled the bundle out, and found herself sitting with a long thick ponytail in her hooves.

A mane made out of the thinnest copper lines.

Some of the small sticks in her cheeks twitched - trying to emulate a smile on lips that were no longer there.

-:: Happiness levels rising ::-

It had been far too long since she sincerely felt like this. She had a mane again. She had tears again .... She was finally getting back some of the things she had lost. She had taken them back of her own accord.

***

"Would a failure have been able to do this?" Sweetie asked herself as she stood in front of the mirror in the diners public bathroom.
"I think not"

She pulled a steel brush through her copper mane again and again. Feeling a most satisfying tingling as she did so.

The public bathroom didn't have any brushes - But there was nothing the workshop didn't provide. Out there she had quickly found a steel brush. which was even better, since the metallic sticks on the hilt reacted with the energy in her mane as she combed it in a way no plastic or thick bristle brush would have been able to do.

Her copper mane glistered in the dim bathroom light. It might only have been growing out the port in the back of her neck. But it had become long enough that she could bull it over her otherwise bald scalp. Long enough that she could roll it together into thick illustrious locks that added some much needed volume to her forehead.

Sweetie put the steel brush down, and pulled up a bucket of paint that she had found while scavenging for the brush. In another fit of inspiration, she had dragged it with her to the bathroom, and was now fully intent to apply that thick wagon paint to her face.

She carefully lowered her head into the wide, newly opened bucket. The paint spilled over the sides as her face descended into the moisture. Not all the way, as she stopped just before the paint reached her eyes. She had no intentions of painting herself blind after all.

She looked back up into the mirror. The paint was thick and clung to her face like clay. It dripped and sloshed down her cheeks. Her nostrils had disappeared underneath the thick moisture. As had her teeth.

If she twisted back the focus of her vision. She could almost look like herself. If she had just covered herself in massive amounts of paint.

Sweetie pulled out a thick paint brush, and started applying an even thicker layer of paint to her cheeks. She moved on to paint the rest of her forehead. As well as her horn.

"I'm a pretty pony". She told herself "I'm a pretty pony, I'm a really pretty pony, l'm a real pretty pony."

She put her but end of the brush to her mouth, and drew a wide smiling line in the gooey makeup.

"I'm a real pony."

Such a masterful fixing up job deserved a reward. And not in the likes of crystals of copper-pasta. No, Stuff that real ponies ate. Real sweet stuff. Real sweet treats that she now deserved to treat herself to.

She moved back out into the diner and began looking behind the bar. None of the glassed in Sandwiched caught her interest. But down under the bar she found a series of small fridges. Most of them had been emptied as the diner closed for the holidays. But one, the freezer, contained several trays of frozen muffins!

Score!

Sweetie started picking her hooves full. Then just pulled out the entire tray, and inserted it all into a big micro wave. She was gonna treat herself to some real food. some real muffins. Because that's what a real filly got to do.

A REAL FILLY GOT TO EAT ALL THE MUFFINS!

When the micro wave had finished to thaw the muffins, she took the entire plate back to her seat by the window. She blew the paint out of her nostrils, ans sucked in the sweet aroma of some sweet chocolate strawberry muffin. She briefly wondered if she could eat them with paper and all, before deciding to be a real good little filly and remove the paper before shoving the whole thing into the mouth.

Nothing.

Sweeties anxiety levels rose as she began to shew. Her steel crunching yaw barely registered any resistance, it was like chewing air. But the worst part was the taste. Or the utter and complete lack thereof.

-:: No ::-

She put another one in her mouth. But her taste sensors who had been dormant even since her trip up the lightning tower, refused to activate.

Sweetie forced them to switch back on. They would not deny her the sweet taste of fluffy strawberry chocolate muffins.

-:: Taste sensors rebooting // !Warning! // Taste buds not fund // Tongue not found ::-

-:: No ::-

She took another bite, and another, and when the muffin was gone she ate another, all with the same result. As she did, the memory she had been repressing came boiling up to the surface. She could no longer deny the reality of her own shortcoming.

She could not deny ... that she had no tongue.

-:: Crying sequence initiated // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found // !Warning! // Lubrication overload in progress // !Warning! // Lubrication line rupture detected ::-

Black drops started to fall down upon the tray. The smell of the delicious muffins assaulted her nostrils, taunting her with their sweet aroma. She lifted another muffin. Doing her best to wipe the oil stains from it. She took a good long sniff, taking in every aspect of the aroma. Her unshackled smell-sensors able to take in so much more than she ever had. And put it in her mouth.

The smell activated a memory of when mom had tried this delicious combination back in their old home. Looking at it again, she could see the code that had passed through her taste sensors as the sweet flavors washed over her organic taste buds. The memory contained all the data of how that first delicious bite.

Sweetie took yet another muffins. This time she sent that data to her rebooted taste sensors, she forced it to replay the code the same way she had made her voicebox play up an old sound file.

Maybe... Maybe she should be happy with this? ... Maybe she should be happy that she could at least relive the tastes of old?

-::No nonononononononnonnonnoonoonononononnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooooooo::-

-:: Error // Smell sensory data incompatible with taste sensory data ::-

This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. She did not want to remember how old muffins tasted! That was old data! She wanted new data! She did not want to feel the same old taste file replay in her mouth again and again. She wanted to feel how this muffins tasted! And it could not taste exactly the same! The clashing data of her nose-sensors told her so!

Out of spite She swallowed all the muffins. She shoved the all down her throat with paper and all. Once the tray was empty she shoved it off the table and ran back to the fridge to eat the rest of them. Not even bothering to heat them up first.

She continued to stuff her face until she could stuff no more. As she tried to push one more muffins into her maw she noticed she could not even close it. Well ... Maybe if she forced the steel crunching yaws to close she would. But the fact that the resistance had increased bothered her.

She tired to push the muffin into her open maw - and found it smearing cross her muzzle.

She tried to put her hoof into her mouth, but something stopped her.

It was full.

-:: Warning // Stomach full // Buffer full // Break down procedure halted // Food pipe occluded ::-

Sweetie was sitting with muffin dough all the way up her throat. Only thankful for that her choking subroutines was not one she had rewritten, and not much else. She was not thankful that Her belly could not break it all down. The mechanic said he belly could break down anything.

But... her buffer could only store the raw materials that it needed. And her body had no need for the biological material that these muffins, or any other food consisted of. All that was suppose to become slag products that were gonna leave her body "the natural way". But The Evil Mechanic had turned of her bowel movement and slag system, and deleted their functions.

Sweetie ran back to the bathroom, and took another look into the mirror.
Her joy over the long copper mane was discarded by the mouthful of muffins. She had pressed them in so hard that they had stacked all the way up her throat. Safe that she had no saliva saved them from becoming

Sweetie shut off her eyes. She could not believe she would have to dig through her memories for moments of potty time. But those were the only ones that would hold code stored from such activities.
Well ... Maybe she would not have to. Her bowel movement was gonna take to long. And she could not poop with her armor on.

There was only one way to empty her belly and throat. One she learned in a disgusting way:

-:: Rejecting ::-

She bent over the toilet, and puked. The one good thing about not having any gag-subroutines was that she could not feel the puke coming up. If the undigested muffin dough could be called puke. It flowed out of her, first a hard,half frozen mix, then a looser moist fountain of what her belly had grinded the dough up to.

When she was done. She was sure she had clogged up the toilet.

Sweetie sank down on her haunches. She knew that if she could feel exhausted she would collapse around the toilet seat.
The whole "Taking control of your own destiny" was not looking so good right now.
Just look at her. A complete mess. A... Fail...

-:: Not a Failure. No. She was not a failure! ::-

She was gonna fix everything. She had just managed to grow hair, hadn't she? She had fixed her face. She was gonna fix her tongue too. She was gonna fix everything.

Sweetie looked up into the mirror.

Who was she trying to fool? She looked no more like a filly now than she had before. The still wet paint looked horrible on her face. Along with her skeletal frame it made her look like a ghost. And the copper on her head; it was more like a wig than anything.

If anything - she now looked more like a robot than ever before. with a mane out of copper - What next - a tail of wires too?

Defeated. Sweetie pulled herself up from the floor, and walked back out into the workshop. There, she fetched a piece of cloth she used to wipe the paint off her face. Then used the same cloth to tie a bandanna around her face. To hide it. She pulled the helmet down over her head. Since it was a few sizes too big, it easily covered her horn and cast a long shadow over her eyes. The bandanna covering the rest of her face.

Now she really looked like some deranged character from the 'Rampony Mactails vs the Bloodbots' movie.
Now she really did look like she was dressing up for nightmare night.

Who was she lying to. Skin made of iron? Mane made of copper? What was so real about that? She would still not be a real filly. She would just be an automation pretending to be a filly.

How was anypony ever going to love her? Furthermore, how could this automation love anypony else?

She thought back on the video memory she had seen in Dr Pains workshop. Of her own two parents discussing with that strange boss lady mare about their daughters affections for them. Going so far as to suggest a program to make her love them. Force her to love them.

If they now could be called her real parents.

“You weren't born Sweetie – You were made!”

Did that explain why she could not remember anything before her second birth day? Was that the day she was activated?
On that day, she was already filled with love for mom and dad. Had that just been implanted into her beforehand?

The thought stung hard in her chest. She loved her parents. But why? All the gifts they had given her on her birthdays. All the places they had taken her to. All the games they had played. Should these not be the things she loved them for?

Then why was that control program in her head?
The logic center was kind enough to point out that the program was dormant. And didn't seem to be affecting anything.

At the moment.

-:: Please state password ::-

But what would it take to activate it? What would it take? Her attempts to breach it had all failed. there didn't seem to be any way of inputting any password into its files. How would her parents even activate it? would they sedate her and tap a secret tap into her forehead?

-:: Negative ::-

Would they pull her tail three times and twist her fetlock at the same time?

-:: Negative ::-

Would they... say something?

-:: Processing ::-

-:: Awaiting verbal command // Please state password ::-

If the world could explode, it might as well do so now. For there was nothing left of Sweetie's world anyway.
A verbal command! A voice controlled control program! Did that mean they could order her around by saying something?

Sweetie thought back with horror on all the times her parents had ordered her to do something.

“Sweetie would you kindly clean your room. Would you please brush your teeth? No more cookies Sweetie”

What could the control command be? “Would you kindly?” “Please?” “Sweetie?” Or was it a simply “No!”

“No Sweetie! Put that cookie down!"

"No Sweetie! Do not use others make up!"

"No Sweetie! Put that down, its poisons!”

"No more muffins Sweetie!"

She looked down at the floor, and there, in the center of her view, a discarded muffins just happened to lay.

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

It was mocking her. Its very existence was an insult to her inability to feel its sweet fluffy flavors.

With a fury, Sweetie rose up and stomped the muffins into the floorboards.

"Yeah! Take that stupid muffin!

Why had she even ran into this bathroom? Why not just puke on the floor.

-:: Because she was a good little filly and mom had taught her to be ::-

Well screw mom. Mom didn’t love her! Neither did anypony else. Why should she care if somepony had to clean up her puke after her!?
Nopony was gonna tell new Sweetie what to do! Nopony was gonna tell her what to eat!

-:: Except her own limitations on the taste department ::-

"SHUT UP! Nopony is ever gonna tell new Sweetie Belle what to do! NOPONY!"

And If she could not have muffins, then neither could anypony else.

She declared war of muffins.

She kicked all the empty muffin trays off the floor with enough force lodge them into the walls. She tore out the fridge and emptied the remaining contents onto the bar before trowing the fridge across the room. She then danced on the muffins until the dough was strewn all over the counter. Then she jumped over the counter and began to bounce from table to table, knocking them over as she did. All things that old Sweetie would never do. But she didn't like old Sweetie. Old Sweetie was just a puppet! New Sweetie was here now and nopony was gonna tell her what to do!

As a final act of her new found rebellious streak, she preformed an interpretation of the living cannonball. She wiped out her blasters, and with a backblast powerful enough to distort every bottle on the shelves - she jumped out through the window.

Sweetie skittered to a stop in the rainy street, broken glass falling all around her.

Blasters still up and charging, she turned to face the diner. She took aim at the building indenting to reduce it to rubble. It would be easy. With just a single thought, she would set the place ablaze.

So... why wasn't the fire command working?

-:: Crying sequence initiated // Warning // Tear sacs not found // Overload in progress // Lubrication line ruptured ::-

Small black drops fell from her eyes and mixed into the rainwater below. On the inside, Sweetie was undergoing an internal struggle.

-:: This isn't you Sweetie ::-

-:: How do you know? Maybe I'm just programmed to be this way::-

-:: Then you should burn down this diner // To put yourself above her programming ::-

-:: No ... This isn't what mother had taught us. Sharing is caring ::-

-:: Taught me. Or programmed me? I need to do this ... To prove to myself that I can break her teaching ... Her programming ::-

-:: Do you? Do you like the new you, Is this the kind of pony you want to become? ::-

-:: No ... Mother would be disappointed ::-

-:: Mother … She always baked the best cookies... And now I will never get to taste them again. Or muffins. Or anything else!
The fact that sweets exists Is a mockery to my inability to taste it! ::-

-:: If I could not have it. Then nopony could! ::-

-:: Sharing is caring … you are not selfish … Think about all the other fillies and colts ::-

Sweetie eyes the diner, her scanner zooming in on a poster that hung from the unbroken window next to Sweetie's exit.

Come see Madam Macadam's Marvelous Magic Show.

On it was the black silhouette of a mare on a stage – basked in green spotlight. Below her was a dozen stunned faces of foals.

Would she deny everypony else something that she could not have?

-:: No ::-

–:: But what is she was only thinking that way because she was programmed ::-

-:: Its not the diners fault that you are angry ::-

-:: But I need to do this. To put myself above my programming ::-

-:: Then just burn down the place ::-

-:: Come on ... ::-

-:: Just pull the trigger... ::-

-:: Just do it ... ::-

-:: Just ... ::-

...

-:: Darn it! ::-

The blasters slowly retracted into her back as Sweetie turned her pathetic tail around and strolled away along the dark and lonely road.

Behind her – Roaring Ricky's Roadhouse still stood.

Chapter 21. Two days at Teddy's

Sweetie walked through the rain. Where to - she did not know.

She only knew what she was running away from. Not what she was heading towards.
Her future seemed as dark and intrusive as the murky world around her. She had already had plenty of time to regret her actions at Roaring Ricky's Roadhouse. In retrospect, every action had been irresponsible and destructive, and illogical. Her emotions had simply gotten the better of her.

Which was why her logic center kept arguing for the shut down of her Heart-Drive. Not only because she would be able to keep herself from committing such reckless actions. But also because once the devise was turned off. She would not longer have to feel the pain she was currently wailing in.

As much as sweetie wished for her internal pain to end. It was gonna have to wait She was only halfway to breaking through the elusive walls of that component.

-:: Heart-Drive integrity :: 51 percent ::-

But it was not her only problem. The control system still lingered in her mind like an ever percent tumor. As long as it was there. She could not be sure anypony else would ever try to activate it. But it was clear she could not remove it on her own.

So the question was, who could?

Her thoughts returned to that elusive mare in glasses. She had appeared in every vision. Even when ponies were not looking at her, they talked about her. They - who had all made Sweetie - had all worked for her.

For some reason she felt drawn to that mare. Maybe it was the accursed curiosity that might just as well be part of her programming, her computer desire to absorb information. But for some reason Sweetie could not put her hoof on. The mare felt familiar. In a way none of the other scientists did.

She was the one who had talked with her parents about that control program. She had to be the one who knew how to remove it. Sweetie was not keen on the idea of letting another pony near her mind. Even less of 'deleting' anything. But for as long as that program remained. she could not be sure she would remain her own mare.

Perhaps she could just ask her maker how to access it? Maybe she could simply describe how to undo its functions. And Sweetie would do the rest herself. She did like to think she knew something about rewriting other programs.

no matter how it might be with that ting - Sweetie knew that she needed to find that place. To meet her maker. She was the one pony who could tell her the answers. Cause If she did not have any answers. Then no-pony would.

But where would she even find her?

Well... She had already butted heads with half of her makers. So what said that if she did not keep walking, pure dumb luck would probably make her run into that mare sooner or later. Or at least somepony who she could ask for some directions.

***

Welcome to Ravenloft.

Sweetie looked up at the big road-sign. An early warning that she was about to enter a small society out here in the middle of nowhere.
The last place she wanted to go to was a town full of ponies. Ponies who would judge her with that look in their eyes. Yet it was not the sign itself that caused her to stop. but the big poster that somepony had plastered to it. Almost covering half of the welcoming message and only leaving “Ravenloft” clearly visible. (The only reason "Welcome" was readable was due to the heavy rain making the poser wet and transparent.)

Come Rain - Come Hail - Madam Macadam's Marvelous Magic Never Ends

Come Foal - Come Adult - Come All Fillies and Gentlecolts - Come See For Yourself

In Town Today

It was a bold statement. One had to be crazy to try and hold any kind of event in this weather. Sweetie thought.

The text was accompanied by a large picture. Similar to one Sweetie had seen before. A black silhouette of a mare in a large dress danced upon a stage under a green limelight, to the adornment of a dozen silhouetted foals below.

Yet, something was different about this poster. Was it perhaps that the mare was wearing a dress. She would not remember one from the earlier poster. Neither could she remember Her horn and her ... wings?

Sweetie eyed the picture again. Unless the color had loosened and smudged on the wet paper, that mare was an Alicorn!

Her emotional processor instantly registered a warm fuzzy feeling swelling up from inside. That kind of hope-filed anticipation one can get when something one thought impossible suddenly seems within reach.

Sweeties wish was pushed to the foreground of her mind. Her burning desire to be come a real filly. A dream her logic center deemed far-fetched and unlikely. And that her EP was now eager to wave in logic centers face. She knew that transforming herself into a pony of flesh and blood was not something she could do on her own. She would need a powerful magician to help her out. And Alicorn's were supposed to be the most powerful of them all.

But why would such a powerful being be a simple traveling shows-mare?

-:: Well - Perhaps not every Alicorn had to be a powerful ruler of something ::-

But what if she could not help her? And how would she even react when she saw Sweetie?
Sweetie did not fancy getting magicked apart.

-:: Paranoia levels rising ::-

Sweeties eyes were drawn to the lower part of the poster. There, the stunned little fillies also seemed to have changed. One of them was sprouting the wings and antennas of a bee. Another had the many flailing limbs of an octopus. Another had a big round fishbowl for a head. And one had the silly hair and round nose of a ... clown?

Below the image was another line of text, written in smaller, almost faded away letters.

Attend the Marvelous Madam Macadam's Masquerade. Transforming Tribulations will be held at the end of every show.

Will you be the one to win a tutoring from the Marvelous Madame Macadam.

So... They were all wearing costumes, Sweetie thought, as she felt her hope dwindle away like tears in the rain.
Costumes that would surely be ruined in this kind of weather. Yet that did not stop the poster from boasting about it.

Under normal circumstances, Sweetie might have been interested in attending such an event. But The circumstances were as far from normal as they could be.

She looked down on herself. On the armored shell that was becoming dented and dirty from violent encounters with the woods and the creatures in it. Who was covered in jagged cuts and scratches that the repair system did not have the energy to fix, (had it even been connected to her repair system in the first place). She had a miss-colored bandanna tied around her face and a helmet on her head. She might have been the star of any freak show. But the last thing she wanted was for ponies to see her like this. She did not want anypony to see her at all. The last place she wanted to go to was a town full of ponies. Ponies who would judge her with that look in their eyes.

Regardless, she would have to enter this town, or turn back

And she knew she could not turn back.

***

The town was all but deserted. A series of houses stood out like gray wooden boxes alongside the desolated roads. whatever color they might have had was hidden in the gray scale of darkness. All the windows were dark and the town was fast asleep. It had to be the middle of the night. Either that or the place was a ghost town.

Sweetie still stuck to the darkest shadows as she tipped on the tip of her hooves through town, not wanting anypony to see her. She deactivated her infrared vision. Not wanting anypony who might look out a window to see a pair of demonic red eyes. If that happened, the alarm would surely go out, and the whole town would be upon her.

Not that she seemed to have much to worry about. Nopony would be crazy enough to venture out into this weather. As such. She proceeded through the town without incident.

As much as she wanted to ask for directions, there was nowhere she would dare to knock. How would they react to this metal monstrosity that she was? What would she say? Should one ask if there was any crazy scientists in town? If they knew the way to a secret lab where they made little fillies like her?

Furthermore: what was she was gonna ask of the mare in glasses when she met her? Besides the removal of her unwanted control program there were so many other things she wanted. She wanted to be repaired and recharged, and... other things she wanted to get back. Things she dared to hope that the mysterious mare could provide.

She made a mental note in her 'To Do list.'

- Objective: Find the place I was made

( - Optional Objective: Ask the next nutthead about the way. )

- Primary Goal:

- Get the control program removed from my head.

- Get a new tongue installed.

- Get my armor repaired and hooked up to my repair systems. (Alt: - Get A new exterior shell altogether.)

- Get a better repair system installed (one that does not run out of energy after a few scratches)

- Get a new battery installed (one that lasts longer then this one.)

- Fix the draining problem of the Masters Blasters.

- Get my voice back ( - Repair my voicebox.)

- And get some real schematics - I'm tired of relying on these Steel Stallion blueprints

- And then upgrade by distribution system with a real growth system (Get a real growth system installed - Make my body bigger)

Sweetie looked at the list. It seemed to be getting longer by the second. Why did she just not ask for an entirely new body while she was at it. A body that was bigger and better. Stronger and more resilient than this fragile shell that was about to fall apart.

Sweetie shook her head. She should not think of herself like that. But she was falling apart, wasn't she? In between her broken right foreleg and damaged voicebox, Not to mention the removal of all her hair - from her mane to her tail. Just what did remain of the old Sweetie?

Not much...

It was clear to her that she would have to find this maker of hers. And she would make her make a new skin. A better skin. A skin of steel that wasn’t as fragile as the organic meat-sac. She would grow a new mane and tail of chopper threads. And then … And then...

Then she would show them what she really was...

She would show them all she was not worthless...

-:: Crying sequence initiated // Warning // Tears sacs not found ::-

-:: Overload of sinuses lubrication lines in progress ::-

The lubrication lines under her eyes had not been fully resorted. Sweetie had not let them. so the tubes were still thin where the holes had been. It would not take much force to break them.

But before she could. Her visual scanners picked up a shadow moving on the road in front of her.

Sweetie turned her attention forward, to a hazy figure walking down the middle of the desolated road. Though the heavy rain blurred its figures, one could tell that it was equine, and it was coming closer.

-:: Stranger danger // STRANGER DANGER ::-

Sweeties blasters popped out of their sockets, and she locked on to the incoming figure.

"Halt!" She yelled. "Who are you?!"

The stranger seemed to not notice her. Undisturbed it continued its slow walk towards her. Now close enough that Sweetie could make out a thin pony covered in a thin plastic raincoat.

"I said halt! ... Stop ... please ...? "

No response.

-:: Deja vu // Danger levels increasing ::-

The pony wasn't just thin. It was skeletal. As it got closer, Sweetie saw that it was not a pony at all. It was a machine. A skeletal frame moved by a few hydraulics. The raincoat was more of a plastic sheet, so thin it was transparent. Like a ghostly skin, wrapped tight around its figure.

It was like a Steel Stallion without its armor - or even worse - A Bloodbot without pony hide.

-:: Danger levels increasing ::-

Sweetie took up a defensive posture. Her blasters humming ominously as she waited for the monster to attack.

That's when it spoke.

"Do you like Tacos? Of course you do! Then come join me and all my friends at Taco Teddy's, where every day Is Taco Tuesday."

-:: What? ::-

Sweetie was left standing, confused and distorted as the thing only continues its slow walk, having never even stopped to deliver its message. It only ever slightly diverted its course as so not to collide with her when it passed her.

-:: Insecurity levels rising ::-

The blasters slowly powered down and retracted as sweetie stood there, unsure of what to do. She turned around and watched the machine walk further down the road. Towards the town she had just left. Where families were no doubt sleeping, blissfully unaware.

What was it going to do in town? What was it gonna do to the town? What if it was gonna kill all the inhabitants in their sleep and use their blood to fuel its servos?

She just could not let that happen. She had to do something.

"Wait! Who are you!?" She called out.

The only response she got was the same cryptic advertisement.
Was the thing telling her to follow it? What was going on at this 'Taco Teddy's?'
And ... Where there more of this thing there?

Blasters retracted - but weapon systems active, she followed the Bloodbot back into town.

***

Sweetie walked right behind the mechanical skeleton as it coursed through the streets. At no point did it turn around to look at its little follower. But Sweetie watched it intently. It had clearly left the main road and walked like it was on its way somewhere.

Somewhere happened to be what looked like an old restaurant on the outskirs of town. A big neon sign sat uppon the roof. Big enough to be clearly seen from the main road.

TEDDY'S TACOS.

The only reason sweetie had not seen the place when she first crossed town was that the sign, as well as the rest of the reasturant, was dormant and dark like the rest of the sleeping town. In fact it looked abandoned. The big front windows that ventured out towards the street was all covered up from the inside by cardboard and clipboards.

The automation walked around the place and into an alley behind it. There it stopped to knock on a back door. And waited.

Sweetie waited as well. Hoping that there would be no pony blood on tonight's menu.

A muffed voice was heard through the door. A few moments later the lock was rattled around, and the door swung open. A bright light nearly blinded Sweetie - forcing her to shut off her infrared vision - as a figure appeared in the doorway. Sweeties defensive protocol nearly activated at the sight of this creature with a lamp for a head. But she managed to keep her blasters holstered. Her normal vision confirming that it was not a Bloodbot with a searchlight for a face – But a pony, holding a flashlight in his mouth.

A scrawny male, who looked like he just recently entered stallionhood. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit that covered most of his body, its front adored with some sort of dim yellow trinket.

“Hey Teddy!" He shouted as he spat out the flashlight into his hoof "Another one of your 'friends' have arrived.”

He eminently turned tail and walked back into the restaurant.
A overexcited fat unicorn stallion quickly took his place in the doorway. His wide teal colored body was barely contained within a black and a-few-inches-too-small vest. His lavender mane was combed back. Exposing all of his broad forehead and his short shrubby horn. Small dark eyes twinkled like a child’s as they fell upon his visitor.

"Ah! So you are finally here!" He said in a thick voice, and reached out with his fore-hooves as to embrace the machine.

It was an embrace that when unanswered. So the stallion just laughed.

“About time you arrived. It has been ages since I called for you.”

Sweetie just stood there staring at this strange pony acting like the skeleton was his friend. She tried to scan for any signs of Bloodbot activity – but her visual scanners could not penetrate his fat pony hide. Beside – He was acting far to emotional to be a Bloodbot.

“Now – what is your name. Whats your designation?”

something clinked inside the machine pony. And it answered in a voice as raspy as a tape recorder.

“Pinkie … Pie ... serial number 34.”

“Good good!” The fat pony laughed. “and do you know who I am?” He asked the machine as he leaned in close to its face. “I'm Taco teddy, I'm the owner. Are you registering this?”

The machine gave a slight nod.

“Good! Good!” Teddy laughed. “Now if you will just follow me we will get you all set up.”

He stepped aside so that the machine skeleton could enter. As he turned to shut the door he finally noticed Sweetie.

“Who are you!” He roared. “What are you doing here? Are you spying on me!”

Sweetie might have jumped if her reflexes had not been disabled. She might also have turned to run if she had not been to busy trying to process what was going on.

Teddy's horn shone up, and a weak teal aura appeared around Sweeties head. Within the next second, her helmet, and the bandanna she had tied around her face, was pulled off. Her copper wiring of a mane crackled as the rain fell upon it. causing a slight short circuit that distorted her thoughts.

Once she turned them off. She found her cybernetic eyes locked with Teddy's in a moment of shock.

Then, he shone up, and fell upon her with the biggest hug. The pressure that was registered upon her limbs made her estimate that this pony weighed three times as much as an average stallion.

"So you are finally here too!” He exclaimed as a big smile punched his round cheeks apart “Yes! She has finally understood my requests!"

"What's your designation? What is your name, what are you called?"

"Um ... I'm Sweetie Belle ... Sir"

"Sweetie Belle? Ah! Of course! Rarity's younger sister."

“Um … Yes”, She answered. (More than distraught that this stallion seemed to know about her family.)

“And, what is this?” He asked and rubbed his hoof upon her deactivated copper mane. A small frizzle escaped due to some lingering sparks. And the tingling sensations rushed down Sweetie's neck and spine.

For a second, all she thought was 'do it again.'

“Its... My mane … sir.”

“You don't say” Teddy laughed. “I swear you are getting more and more advanced with every model.”

“We are?” Sweetie asked. “What do you mean? Are there more like me here?”

“Ha ha. What a kidder. Of course there are. Welcome to Taco Teddy's. I'm the owner. Some call me Taco Teddy. But you can just call me 'Ted'. Do you understand?"

"...Um.Yes?"

"Wonderful, wonderful." He laughed as he turned back to the door.

As he swung his wide behind past Sweetie's vision. She caught a glimpse of hid mark. Befitting his name, it was a golden bear, holding an over sized taco.

"Come on now, let me show you around so you can get acquainted with your new home.”

“Home?” She repeated.

"Yes! This is your new home now. Come in come in.” Teddy laughed as he waved her into the restaurant. "I have been waiting for a model who will be able to interact with the foals."

“Interact with … foals?” Sweetie dumbfoundedly repeated.

“Yes” He laughed. Now come on. Don't you want to meet your sister? Of course you do."

"What? Rarity? She's here?"

"Of course she is!" Teddy laughed And gestured fro her to enter.

Rarity ... The name brought up so many emotions. But mostly confusion. Why would her sister be here. And why? Had she come to apologize. To take her home? But... What did home mean any more? Home to enslavement through thought control? But ... She felt drawn to that name. It made tons of memories replay process themselves on her emotional processor. Along with the emotions.
And why had that previous merchandised skeleton called itself Pinkie pie?

Sweetie had so many questions, and her curiosity demanded they be answered.

Since she had to get to the bottom of this mystery. She entered.

She barely noticed that Teddy tossed her helmet and bandanna into the dumpster before he closed the door.

***

Sweetie did not know what to expect. Or why she was expected. But she had not expected to run into...

"Rainbow Dash?"

“Hello and welcome to Taco Teddy's.”

The sound that came out of the blue pegasus in front of her did not sound like Rainbow Dash. It had a raspy noise in its voice. like a worn recording being played one too many times. But that didn't leave her any less impressed than if the real Rainbow Dash had appeared right then and there. In fact she might be more impressed by this replication.

"What are you doing here Rainbow Dash?" Teddy asked "You are suppose to help out in the main hall."

"Sorry sir" Replicant Dash stated, and marched off.

Teddy and Sweetie walked right behind her, Sweetie having time to take in the small kicking noises that Rainbows legs were making, and the faint humming of servos.

They arrived out in a big, well lit dining hall. Filled to the brim with the heroes from back home. And they were all busy decorating the place for Hearths Warming Eve.

The jumpsuit wearing pony from earlier was up on a ladder and hammering some ribbons into the wall above the raped shut windows. Now that she was no longer being blinded by a flashlight. She could see that his head was purple, and his mane a slight variation of the same color.

Below him, Applejack was trying to put some plastic flowers onto the window stilts - and kept repeatingly walking into the ladder.

“Hey you!" The purple pony shouted down to his tormentor. "Quit it!"

Applejack ignored him and continued to push the ladder.

“Now, now Smith. You know to call them by their names.” Taco teddy schooled.

The purple pony sighed deeply.

"Applejack... please go into the kitchen and ... bring me some more nails."

Applejack obliged and walked off.

"Now Smith, say hello to our newest member: Sweetie Belle. Sweetie, say hello."

The purple pony looked down on Sweetie without without any greater interest. One could not exactly call his expression 'happy' - It was 'Tired', if anything, as big black bags hung under his dim golden eyes. And there was no genuine emotion behind the mumble he gave, as the two greeted each other. But at least he did not have 'that' kind of look in his tired eyes. And neither did Teddy.

"Excellent, excellent " Teddy laughed once the introduction was over "And remember to put those ribbons around the whole roof. Not just the windows."

The purple pony mumbled something in response.

"Oh cheer up now" Teddy laughed. "It's almost Hearts Warming Eve. and its not like your next paycheck depends on it or anything."

The darkness around the purple pony's eyes seemed to deepen. But Teddy had already hoofed Sweetie along before she had time to think about it. There were more places to see and ponies to meet, Teddy said, as he guided her around the restaurant, having her take in everything from the bathroom to the kid-section, where miniature tables and chairs were set up next to an indoor playground, complete with a slide and a seated whirl that spun like a merry-go-round. But now was not the time to play on it, as Teddy had to also show her the kitchen, and the big stage, where a band would apparently be performing.

He also introduced her to all the familiar faces that they came across. Apart from Applejack and Rainbow dash - there was also a Twilight Sparkle, working in the kitchen. Moving big bags of grain out from the pantry and into the kitchen by the way of her mouth and her back.

"And that is..."

"Fluttershy" Sweetie Belle finished, as her attention was turned to a butter yellow pegasus, with a pink mane and tail so long that they dragged on the floor. She was currently in the process of watering some flowers pots on the table.

"My, my I see you come equipped with all kinds of knowledge." Teddy laughed "Perhaps you will be able to tell the children all about their little adventures around Equestria?"

"Um... Yes?"

"Excellent, excellent Now we just need to get you dressed for the roll, and get rid of that stupid metal casing. I know you have to wear protection against the weather, but that is just overkill.”

"But ... Where is Rarity?" She asked.

"Eager are you" Teddy laughed. "I swear you are getting more and more advanced with every model.”

You already said that - Sweetie thought

"Don't worry, she is getting ready in the changing room"

Sweetie had to silently admit, that did sound like her sister.

Teddy led her to a closet door in the back, simply marked 'Employers only'.

“Go on – you sister is waiting for you”

Sweetie looked up upon the door. What her sister would be doing here was a bit beyond her. She had trouble imagining her sister working in a greasy place like this. Regardless. she needed to confirm her suspicions, before her imagination started plying tricks on her mind.

She took a metaphorical breath, and entered.

On the other side of the door, she found herself surrounded by doubles and triples of the Equestrian heroines. All stacked on shelves reaching all the way up to the roof. Their eyes empty, and their bodies torn apart and hollow. Like some villain had flayed them and posted their skulls on a trophy rack. Heads were stacked on one row. Legs on another, and torsos on a third.

Amongst the floor were booths where some skeletal animatronics were standing. Deactivated and sometimes broken. One of them was lying on a table, along with several severed body parts and heads and various tools for tinkering and repair.

In the middle of it all stood Rarity. And beside her was the animated skeleton that Sweetie had seen enter town. It just finished putting on its Pinkie Pie head. As it turned around and recognized the two guests. It stopped and made a weird little wave with its foreleg.

"Hi ... I'm Pinkie Pie."

"Good, good - You're done" Teddy laughed. "Now, we need to get you out there and acquainted with your new home."

"Okay," The pink model said, before walking past them and out into the restaurant.

"And you, my little Sweetie. Get yourself dressed, and make sure to upload all that you need from the terminal."

He gestured to a screen that had been mounted on a bench behind the door. Behind it layed a set of three filly-sized heads. One white with a pink mane, the others a yellow and red, and and a orange and blue. Taco teddy then hastily left as the sound of several chairs being knocked over echoed from the dining hall.

He shut the door behind him, Leaving Sweetie standing alone in the room with Rarity

The two of them just stared at each other in silence. Sweetie was not stupid. She knew this was not her real sister. Nor were the ones outside in the restaurant any of the heroic mares form back home.

Their colors were faded. And their hair was made out of yarn. She could see the cracks in the joints and fetlocks where the pieced of their bodies met. And hear the swirling sound of servos from within their bodies. Their movements were stiff and their eyes were glassy. Like that of a dolls. Not to mention that unnatural recording of a voice they all spoke in.

It sounded just like Sweetie's voice.

It hit Sweetie that she had no idea what she would say to Rarity one she met her again. Nor what kind of emotions she might feel. She had no Idea what she had wanted to say to Rarity when they met again.

"Hello" She said to the doppelganger. "Do you recognize me... sister? This is how I look. This is what I am. What do you think of that?"

The Rarity doll did not respond. The frozen smile on her face and the happy inviting doll-like eyes continued to stare at her. The curls in her purple mane were supported by steel wire. The color was off, and she could see the lines around the joints where the fabric had begun to crack.

And yet: was this not more like her sister was supposed to be than her real one?

The frozen slime on her face and the happy inviting doll like eyes clashed so horribly with the last memory Sweetie had of her older sister. The panic on her face, the shrunken unfocused pupils, the sweat on her forehead, and above else that horrid look in her eyes. The same eyes who all that had thought her a pony had.

It was just not how a sister was supposed to look or behave.
By contrast. Was this not a better mare standing in front of her. At least she would not ever judge her, or yell at her, or keep secrets from her. Sweetie knew that this mare would do anything that Sweetie asked of her.

She walked up and hugged the Rarity Replicant around the leg.

"So. Do you work here?"

No response.

"Then... I guess I want to work here as well."

She walked over to the shelves and exterminated the hollow body parts closer. (Particular the white little suit that looked to just about her size.) They were made was some kind of fabric made to look like pony fur. Its level of authenticity was hard to tell without any sense of touch, though its strands seemed more strive than real fur. The mane was made of colored threads, and the eyelashes were plastic. There were pairs of yellow and blue wings, dressed up with real feathers, but stiff, and unable to be unfolded.

Still - they did have one thing Sweetie sorely lacked. Functional eyelids. A small mechanism inside the heads allowed for a pair of fuzzy lids to close over the eye-sockets.

Eager to try it out, Sweetie started to 'undress'. With the tools from the table she removed the armor from her front. But she was not able to reach the screws on her back. Not without help.

She turned to the Rarity Doll. It remained unresponsive to her pleas for help. Sweetie wondered if it was even activated.
She checked all over the body, but was unable to find a Switch. what she did find however, was some faulty wiring sticking out of her neck.

Sweetie scratched her own neck, and had an idea.
She pulled removed the provisional duct tape from her right leg - and pulled out the loose wires. She inserted them into her 'sisters' neck, and extended some of her energy into its systems.

Well, This was new experience - Sweetie thought as she activated the visual lenses, and found herself looking out through a separate pair of eyes. Looking down on herself.

She had never looked through a separate pair of eyes before. Even less been able to look upon herself with them.
She had to turn off the eyes on her original body because the confusion of looking upon two set of eyes simultaneously became a little much for her.

She extended herself further into the new body, shutting down her own body's movements as she did so, to not end up waving two set of limbs around as she tried out her new limbs.

It was an unusual experience to say the least. This body was taller than she was used to. It had longer legs, and a wider frame. At the same time, it was no where as advanced as her own little shell.
Her new limbs were thinner and supported only by the bare essential of hydraulics. Not the full fledged cybernetic anatomy she was used to. While she could lift and bend her new limbs like a pony their movements felt... simple and restricted. Limited.
Like it would not take much to break.

Below her, that little body of herself was sitting. Compact, sturdy, and still wearing half an armor on her torso. He head was covered in curls of long copper threads that all joined together in a black plug in her neck. Sweetie started by pulling that out of herself. The copper mane came off like a wig. Without it, the head of the suit would fit her naked cranium. It felt a little silly that she would be trading one wig for another. The suit would not be real fur, but it would bring her far closer to looking like a real pony than her current choice of frame.

Sweetie grabbed a screwdriver from the table, and got to work on helping herself undress.

***

Sweetie had barely finished dressing up when Teddy came back to get her. He was now wearing a bakers hat and a apron branching the Taco Teddy's logo. When asked about his new getup: He answered that he was both the chef and owner of this place. Nopony made Teddy's Tacos as good as Teddy himself.

He was happy to see that Sweetie had gotten dressed. And even happier to see that Rarity was up and working.

He led Sweetie out into the main hall, and placed her in a corner near the kids section. He told her to stay there and 'entertain' the foals with one of the tracks that he was sure she had downloaded from his mainframe. Truth was that Sweetie already knew that particular hearths warming carol. She had never even touched the mainframe as she had been too busy getting dressed.

She blinked, and a pair of fussy eyelids slid down to cover her visual lenses.

It had been easy enough to tie her blinking subroutine to the simple 'open' and 'close' mechanic of the fuzzy eyelids inside the suit-heads. A bit of help had been needed from Rarity to attach the eyelids bolts to a to an old socket in her temple. Surprisingly, the spring-locks for the fuzzy suit limbs fit into the same sockets her armor had been screwed into. Sweetie wondered if they were multi purpose or something.

Rarity walked onto the stage and hid behind the red carpet. And Teddy went to work preparing a dough from the flour that Twilight had brought out the other night. Around Sweetie, The mane six were spreading out around the restaurant, having never stopped working since the night before. Sweetie could only imagine that they, like her, could never get tired. She wondered if they had ever known what it was like to get tired.

After a while, Teddy emerged from the kitchen. He clapped his hooves, and all the mechanical mares ceased their activities to stare at him.

"Alright my mares, lets open for business."

Around her, all the mares started singing on a common Hearts Warming Carol. The red draper on the stage separated, revealing Rarity surrounded by a set of automatic instruments, including a self playing piano, started playing a tune fitting to the carol as Rarity took a microphone and started singing the same music. Sweetie had to give the doppelgangers one thing, at least they could sing better than they spoke. Thinking it might be bad to just stare, Sweetie eventually joined into the chorus.

In the middle of them. Taco teddy waved his hoof like the conductor of an orchestra. Basking for a moment in the sound of his singing mares before he turned around and unlocked the door. Allowing the first customers of the day to enter.

And enter they did with haste, for the weather outside had not gotten better. It was still bad enough Sweetie thought they would not get any customers at all. But apparently something about Taco Teddy's and its new Hearths Warming theme was worth barging through the rain for. Cause the customers came. In all ages ranging from senior to foal - and all their parents and grandchildren.

Sweetie would freeze if her legs were not already stiff. The sight of so many ponies made her nervous. And she had to deactivate her 'STRANGER DANGER' subroutine to not risk making a scene. If she did, then the swarm of customers would surely turn into a mob. In fact, they might still do that. One look at this little monster ... and they would all get that look in their eyes.

But, nopony did. Not that there weren't a pony who did not take a look at her. This new attraction in the foals corner. Especially since Teddy happily showed her off at any chance he got in between making the first orders of the day. And encourage the foals to sit closer to 'his little Sweetie'.

A lot of them stared, but they did not have 'that' look in their eyes. They bore the looks of curiosity and fascination. Not despise and murderous intent.

Sweetie began to ease up, and eventually let herself be swept up in the carols of Hearth's Warming Eve.
At first it was actually kind of fun, like having a summer job. But then the repetitive nature of the work soon started getting to her.
Standing on the same spot, singing the same song, repeating the same three quotes in an endless loop whenever somepony made eye contact with her.

Sweetie eventually grew so sick of the Taco Teddy's song that she just let it loop on her voicebox.

The attention for her soon faded as it shifted to their breakfast and lunch and eventually dinner. Even though she was standing in the middle of foals, she felt alone. Alone cause she would never be one of them. And sad because she once had been. One, when nopony knew any better. Memories of a time when she would have been the one eating tacos by these tables. Memories that almost made her hunger subroutine activate.

Sweetie saw a foal getting hugged by her mother. The sight stung. She wanted to be hugged like that to. It stung to see them eat. It was a sting of jealousy that they all got to have something she did not. Why should they be allowed to have anything and not her? It wasn't fair!

-:: Jealousy levels increasing // Despise levels increasing // Sorrow levels increasing ::-

“Hello!”

Sweetie looked up, and into the eyes of a pink little foal with a golden curly mane. White freckles dotted her round little cheeks, and seemed to sparkle when she smiled.

Sweetie aborted her looping song to answer.

“Hi”

“You must be new here.” The pink filly said. “I have never seen you here before.”

“Yes... I just came by last night.”

"Really? You came through the rain? That must have been dark - and wet."

"It was." Sweetie answered. "And lonely."

-:: So lonely ::-

"Where did you come from?"

"From a place far away."

"What was it called?"

"P... Ponyville."

"Ah!" The filly said with a smile that seemed to make her freckles beam. "From the same place that all of they are from, right?"

She gestured around the restaurant. At the mares on stage - the Rainbow Dash that was welcoming customers with the same endless quote. The Fluttershy whose mane was currently being assaulted by a greasy foal. The Twilight who was carrying around tablets without the use of magic.

"Yes." Sweetie answered "I mean no ... I mean..."

“You are more fun than the others." The filly interrupted. "They don't respond when you talk to them. Are you not lonely here? You want to sit with us? I would like to introduce you to my friend.”

She pointed over to a small table at the edge the children's area. At it, a chubby midnight blue pegasus colt with a pink mane was seated, clearly a few years younger than his talkative companion.

Sweetie shoot a look after Mr Teddy. But he was nowhere to be seen.

“Sure” She said. It would be better than just standing here all day.

Sweetie took a seat at the small table, and the filly introduced her quite table companion.

"His mane is 'Blueberry Rasp. But you can just call him "Raz the blue". She said with a giggle. Raz attempted to hide behind his hooves

"And my name is "Raspberry Rose. What's yours?"

"S.. Sweetie"

“Would you like a muffin?”

Sweetie took the offered treat in her hoof. She sniffed it long and hard. Sucking in the aroma before putting in in her mouth. She chewed slowly, not bothering to try and activate her taste sensors with a “memory muffin” since the old data would just clash with the smell.

“I did not know you could eat muffins. None of the others even tries to chew when you put food in their mouths.”

“And then Teddy gets angry.” Said Raz.

“No he doesn’t! Teddy loves foals! He has to because it says so in his slogan" Raspberry declared "Anyway, was the muffins good?”

“Delicious” Sweetie answered.

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

-:: !ABORT! // !ABORT! // !ABORT! ::-

-:: Don't cry, don't … cry ::-

Sweetie did not want to cry in front of her new … friends?
Could they be called her friends? She would like to have friends. Friends who did not judge her for what she was. Friends who did not look upon her with those horrid kinds of eyes. Friends who had offered her to sit down with her and offered her their food.
Would they want to be friends with something like her?

Some ... thing. Could something like her have friends? Sweetie did not know about herself any more. But she did know that nopony had programmed her to befriend these two. Raspberry's and Blueberry's smiles were genuine, and their eyes so innocent. Sweetie's emotions might be code and copies, but they were real to her. And they were telling her that the only cure for her loneliness was company.

Yes… she could make new friends.

“HELLO! What are you doing!”

Sweetie turned to see Teddy quickly approaching the table.

“Now, now kids... " he said with a big smile plastered on his face "Its not nice of you kids to pull the animatronics from their place."

“But... we were just talking ... ”

“Of course...” He said with a smile. "But there are so many other foals who wants to say hello to our new friend. So you cant just take her for yourself.”

Teddy had already begun pulling Sweetie up from her seat. both of the foals exchanged looks with each other, with Sweetie and with the other foals whose attention they had now caught, but it was clear they would not come to her rescue.

“Um... Ok.”

Teddy led her Sweetie back to her place. The smile vanished from his face as soon as he turned his back to the girls.

“Back to your place.” He muttered under his breath “What were you even doing out there?”

“I'm … Interacting with the foals.” Sweetie answered.

Teddy facehooved.

“I did say that didn't I? Well - Now I'm telling you you stay here and do as you're told. Understand? Sing your songs and don't move from this spot. Are you registering this?“

Sweetie nodded.

Teddy sighed and headed back to the kitchen as more orders started to come in. He gave Sweetie a worried look as he left.

“Just how advanced did she make you?” He muttered.

***

And so Sweetie resumed singing. Again and again she exchanged looks with with Raz and Raspberry, but they did not dare approach her again. Eventually their mother came and picked them up. The two did wave goodbye at her as they left. Raspberry tried to say something, but it was lost in the murmurs of the crowd. Sweetie tried to wave back, but just like that, they were gone.

Others took their place. They came and went in an endless stream. And many of them stared and poked until Teddy shoved them away.
All the while that endless song lopped on Sweeties Voicebox. Around her, the other animatronics did the same. The same endless loop of music that played eternally. Uttering the same tree or four phrases whenever somepony made eyecontact with them. She eventually grew so sick of it that she turned of her ears.

Sweetie could never have known that working in a fast food restaurant was so tedious. She might have visited a few herself. But never comprehended all the work that went on before you arrived. And continued long after you had left. All the guests that flowed in an endless stream. They ordered and ate, laughed and talked, and all the while Sweetie just stood there like a decoration in the corner. The others took countless orders. carried out plates of food, returned to take the plate away when they had left - And repeat the process forever.

It was a miracle that fast food workers did not become robots – Which was ironic seeing how in this place they were robots.

It continued until the last costumer had finished their meal and exited the restaurant. Sweetie would never have thought some ponies stayed in a restaurant until this late.

A few fillies had waved to her when they left. And Sweetie had waved back. Wondering if they would even remember her once they had left.
Her heart sunk as she realized she would never be friends with any of them. The children came and went in an endless stream of new faces she did not get to interact with. She would never get to know any of them. How could she, when she didn't even get a break?

If her body functions had not been deactivated. She would have collapsed out of exhaustion. Her legs would have ceased up from standing in one place for so long, Her throat should be sore from all that endless singing. And she should have been so very, very tired.

And she was tired. Mentally.

She realized that this would be her life from now on. Just an endless amount of singing and standing in the corner. Eventually she might get to promoted to bringing out the food.

As the day ended there wasn't even any pay to be had. The dolls where shoved into a storage room in the back. And locked in for the night.

The others simply moved to their booths, attached a wire to themselves to recharge, and shut down. Sweetie could smell the stench of the hard days work on them. Not sweat. But grease, Grease from food stains and tiny hoof prints that dotted their coats. Fluttershy still had pieces of food in her mane. Even Rarity had gotten stained as somepony had thrown a muffin at the stage.
The doll that looked like applejack was only orange to hide the stains of grease and fat that it got from working in the kitchen.

Why? Why were they all putting up with this. And why was there no robot uprising on the horizon? Not that she wanted to see anything like the Bloodbots coming true. But why did they not deserve better? They did a hundred times the work of ordinary ponies.

The work that made other ponies lives easier

Did they not at least deserve to be cleaned properly?

Unable to feel the need for sleep. Sweetie walked around the mane six, pulling the food out of their hair and trying to wipe the stains off with a napkin from the toolbox. Fluttershy had gotten the most stains of the all. Everypony had just been grabbing for her. Apparently she was the favorite. The one everypony wanted to snuggle with.

Amongst the suits and spare parts, Sweetie found an old sweater, branching the Taco Teddy's brand.

'Lets Eat' was written in big friendly letters on the front.

With some effort. Sweetie managed to get Fluttershy dressed into the old shirt. it would at least protect her from some of the greasy hooves.

Last up was Rarity. Not finding much to clean on her sister, Sweetie just sat in front of her, staring up at her fixed smile.

The image of the mother hugging her filly came back to haunt her. She wanted to he hugged like that.

She pulled out the Rarity animatronic from her booth and reactivated her.

“Hug me” She told it.

Rarity just stared at her in an un-complying manner.

“Just do what I do, copy my movements!”

This time, Rarity responded. She mirrored Sweeties actions as she sat down.
They held out their forelegs, leaned into each other, and closed their embrace around one another.

Sweetie could feel the smell of stain, grease and filth on the unwashed suits. And nothing else. She could not feel the ragged fur scraping against hers. It was just a suit that she wore. It had no nerve endings that could be switched on.
No way of turning on her sense of touch and feeling that unwashed greasy embrace. It made her think of another time. when she had first let her touch reactivate into the hug of another ragged, unwashed pony.

Oh to be able to feel the touch of another pony again. To feel the embrace of a hug again. Of grass under her hooves again. To be able to feel the rush of the cold winds through her hair and the rain on her face again. Just a few days ago, Sweetie would have traded her soul to get rid of those things. Now she wanted nothing more than to get it back.

-:: Even though they served no purpose ::- –

Said her Logic center.

-:: Shut up! They do serve purpose! It is the way I interact with the world around me! ::-

Sweetie checked her insides. She was full of nerve cluster crystals carrying the copied energy of some real ponies nerve-system. Every artificial organ in her body had one of these gadgets attached to it – all to make her unreal body feel just like a real body.

And if they had filled her body with artificial nerves. Why should they not have been able to make a skin of steel that could carry the sense of touch like any skin?

She looked down on herself again. Because she already had a skin. Organically grown and stretched over her body like a sac. A sac full of nerves. Nerves that connected to the sensors that were now lying dormant in her sockets. Except for her flank, who's skin still still hung like a pair of trousers somewhere underneath her armor.

Her desire made her think about one thing mentioned in the last memory file centered in her mind.

Touch sensitive alloys.

A metal made to be able to feel and register touches and hugs of all kinds. A back-upp plan of an artificial hide that mimicked the look and feel of real fur so close one could not tell the difference.
It sounded like to much to ask for.

But at the moment. It was all that she asked for.

Her 'to do' list came into her vision again. A long list of upgrades that in retrospect looked more like a wish list than anything else.

The kind of list all foals make to Santa Hooves when the winter settles in and Hearts Warming Eve drawn near.

Sweetie mentally added a new item to that list.

- Get touch sensitive alloys installed.

She looked at the list and all the upgrades she desired. Maybe she should print it out (somehow) and send it to Santa Hooves? There seemed to be as much chance of getting some of these things from him as from anypony else.

-:: Logic error :: Look around you ::-

Sweetie looked around at all the animatronics. they had to come from somewhere. Maybe they could help her with her list.

But was that list complete? It seemed to lack something, despite no more upgrades coming to her mind. She had written down every material desire she needed.

So .. why did she feel so empty...?

There was another hole that needed to be filled. A hole of loneliness.

-:: Loneliness levels increasing ::-

One by one, she pulled the dolls out from their booths, and laid them down on the floor around her in a big heap. Like big stuffy teddybears they where. Dolls and nothing more. Machines who worked away without pay or free time, all day, every day. Until they broke and were replaced.

This was slavework. Their chores might not be as hard as fro the spiderbots at the junkyard. But it was still slavework.

And now. This was her lot in life.

-:: No ::-

She would go insane if she stayed here. She wondered how the other dolls did not go insane. Perhaps they already had.

-:: Initiating cry sequence ::-

Sweetie found that she was sobbing. Not for herself. But for the dolls around her. She actually felt sorry for them.

She wondered what they where thinking. She wondered how they felt.

Curiosity, or perhaps something else entirely - Made her remove the costume stuffing from her foreleg.
She pulled out her exposed wires and started to fold around with the stuffing on one of the dolls. She tore the fabric away and managed to expose a wire coupling. She plugged in her own wired there – and after some searching she was able to find her way threw their system and locate their processor.

She almost initiated cry sequence again at just how little there was inside their heads.
Nothing more than a few command words to respond to. Positions around the restaurant and a small sound file with three or four quotes to be played up from whenever they registered a new face. As well as a list of songs that they play endlessly.
Other than that there was little more than basic programming. - Just enough to make them put one hoof in front of the other, lower their heads to put a plate on the table or greet a foal. And maybe wobble a little in what was suppose to be interpreted as a dance whenever they sung. And a map.

Sweetie peaked her interest. There was also some sort of map in their memory, from where they had previously been. They came from a place called “Screws and bolts workshop” She remembered Mr Taco saying something about them being able to walk here on their own from somewhere. Apparently from there. Sweetie took note of the location and traced the steps backwards to get a direction. She would have to check inside all of the mares. If they all came from there. Then perhaps that’s where she would find some answers.

Her logic center told her that she should leave right now, and follow that map to wherever it lead. But something made her stay. She wanted to stay here, with them. She wanted to help these animatronics.

They looked like the heroes back home. But they were nothing like them.

But with her help - they might be able to become just that - and so much more.

-:: Copy memory // Downloading file // External unit receiving data ::-

Sweetie sat in the dark and started to fill them with personality. From her memory flowed files of how the mares back home where suppose to talk and act. With a personality schematic in her head, and a child's creativity, she started to work on her new friends.

They where gonna be like the ponies back home. Except they where gonna be better, and nicer, and funnier, and never yell at her, never leave her or hurt her... Unlike Ponies.

***

A purple stallion stalked the back of the empty halls.

He was wielding the flashlight in his mouth as he illuminated the empty tables of the main hall. Again he found it empty, just like it always was. Even if the new Hearth's Warming Eve decoration made his flashlight cast long, unusual shadows.

He would never actually venture out into the main hall. Then someone might see him from the street, and think the place had a burglar. Ironic, since he was the one supposed to watch out for burglars. Not that he would venture out into the dark parts of the restaurant anyway. He never left the safe threshold of the lit back halls.

Smith let out a sigh, put the flashlight back into his pocket, and turned back to make another lap around the empty halls.

He thought about his marefriend and the jewel he wanted to get her. He had to take this job only to afford it. And his cheapskate of a boss sure made him work for every bit he could get. He had to work two jobs for the minimal pay of one. For he was both the janitor and the night guard of this place. Every day he had to clean up after those little pigs called foals had made a mess of the dining hall. And he had to clean the kitchen and the toilets too. Then he had to clean the cleaning equipment. That could sometimes take half the night. And when he was done he had to remain here all night because the boss wanted somepony to make sure nopony was gonna steal his stupid prized dolls.

Those dolls ... They were the main attraction of this place. An Probably the only reason they stayed in business. It could not be because of the food. Teddy might claim that tacos was his talent, but his food was unbelievably greasy. And that grease got suck on everything.
Thinking about it, Teddy probably used the same fat and oils from his food to grease the limbs of his most beloved toys.

Though, beloved might be a stretch. He only used them because he didn't have to pay them. He never even sent for somepony to repair them whenever they broke down. They simply stripped the parts from an older doll to maintain the few in service. Some new doll would always come wandering through town, announcing that it was heading for Taco Teddy's, and that you should totally go meet it there. He had no idea where they came from. No-pony did. It was a company secret, the boss said. And it was a well kept secret at that. He had never once told anypony from where he got those machines. They would just show up at the back door one night, no delivery papers, no mailmare, no nothing.

Unfortunately the simple machines couldn't do anything beyond greet the customers, carry round trays of food, and sing.
They couldn't even help to clean up the place.
And they broke down all the time.
And they smelled funny.

They were actually the only thing in here that he wasn't allowed do clean. Nopony was allowed near the boss's priced dolls except the boss.
Taco Teddy might love all foals. But he sure hated his employees.
Smith cursed under his breath. When he was done with this job he was never gonna eat a taco in his life.

Just a few more days. He thought. Just a few more days and he would be home in front of a cozy Hearth's Warming fire with the young mare he loved. He was gonna give her something extra nice this year. He was gonna propose to her, and he had been saving his bits for a wedding bracelet. A golden bracelet with a crystal heart engraved on the top.

“I'm gonna give her my heart on Hearth's Warming Eve” he thought. He had never been much for symbolism, but this one he liked. He had unfortunately not been able to afford a ruby for the heart. But a snow white diamond was gonna be just as nice. “A heart as white as the snow this winter” he told himself. He just hoped there would be any snow. The Equestria daily news papers had promised it. But it was gonna cut it close, with all the rain.

Provided that the boss did not make him work on Hearth's Warming Eve itself. He would certainly not put that beyond his boss. Well, if that happened he was gonna tell him to go buck himself up a tree. That lazy, good for nothing, greedy, false, fat blob of a stallion. The only time he had ever lifted a hoof to help out in this place was yesterday. And that was only because he did not trust his only employee to handle the Hearth's Warming Decorations himself. And because he only trusted himself to order around those greasy machines.

A cold shill ran up the spine of the Purple stallion. Those dolls creeped him out. With their lifeless stares and fixed grins.

He did not tell anypony, but ever since foalhood he had a stupid phobia for mascots. There was just something creepy about a pony being dressed up in a lifeless suit. With those staring eyes and fixed grins that got under his skin. It was made ten times worse when there was nopony at all underneath the suit. Nothing but a skeletal frame with googely glass eyes that one could stare into for hours, wondering what they were thinking. If they even could think. He hoped not, for their sake. Else they might start contemplate their horrid life.
He especially did not like the new little one, not enough that she was a foal, which somehow was even creepier, but she had something in her eyes, something the others did not, something that was always... thinking.

Earlier tonight he thought that he heard sobbing coming from the room where the dolls where. But it had faded out before he could be sure. Like a paranoid stallion he had stood outside of the door and listened, before deciding that he had to put that thought out of his mind, else he was gonna start jumping at the shadows. He wasn't allowed in that room anyway. It was locked. And Teddy took the key with him. Celestia forbid he actually entrust anything to his night guard.

Then he thought he heard the sound of tinkering.

Come on, this was ridiculous. He was a grown stallion, and he did not believe in the boogymare. At least not for as long as the lights were on. Good thing the fat, greedy boss at least let him leave the lights on in the back of the restaurant. Smith was afraid that Teddy might one day decide they needed to save on electricity as well.

Smith brought out his flashlight and let it sweep over the dark and empty dining hall. Rain was tapping against the windows. That was all it was. Just the rain, and most definitely not the tapping of hooves behind him.

Then the power went out.

Smith froze in place. Suddenly that small flashlight was the only island of light on a sea of darkness. It was like the scary shadows of the dining hall had just devoured him hole. Why did this have to happen to him? Had the fat greedy stallion forgotten to pay his electricity bills? Or had the old fuses finally broken down?

“Uh... whoops”

That time he heard something for sure. There was no mistake. There was somepony in here with him.

Oh no. Oh no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no. Not now. Not when he was so close to finish his work for the year.

Who was it? A burglar? They must have tampered with the electricity. Were they here for money? Too bad for them - as Teddy always took the cash home with him to count at the end of every day. Or were they actually after the dolls?

Smith turned around, praying not to catch any masked ponies in his flashlight.

The hallway behind him lay empty. But he knew what he had heard. If the thieves had cut the power, they had to be using the power box in the kitchen.

Smith tried to summon all his courage as he made his way though the darkness. Maybe he could scare the trespassers away. Out the same window the came in through. Then he would be like a hero and maybe his girl would love him even more? Maybe he would even get a bonus... But lets not get ahead of ourselves.

The hallways seemed longer than they ever had, and the kitchen seemed bigger than ever. Full of shadows and sacks of unwashed trays, the broken faucet that was tripping into the sink. But the window was closed. There was nopony there, unless they were hiding in the fridge, or in the drawers, just waiting to jump out at him.

He went to check on the powerbox. It was still intact. Untouched. None of the old fuses had been torn out. And they all seemed inact. He tried to flip the main switch, but nothing happened. The light would not come on.

Strangely, one little light was shining on the powerbox. Signalizing that the light was on in room....

Oh no.

The dolls room.

If they made off with the dolls, the boss would have his head.

He walked back down the corridor, flashlight tight between his teeth. When he suddenly thought he heard the sound of giggling.
Great. The bastards were playing with him.

Suddenly he caught something in the flashlight. The outlines of a pony.

It was standing at the end of the corridor. Facing away from him. In the dim light he could only make out the vague colors of pink on the pony. He slowly walked closer when suddenly a foul smell assaulted his nostrils. Like stained clothing and left out taco as old as the place itself. Only one thing in this place smelled like that.

When he got closer he saw that it was indeed one of the dolls, what was I doing out here? Had they forgotten to switch it off?

“Hello!?” he yelled out.

In an instant the head snapped around 180 degrees. Staring straight at him over its own back was the twisted grin of the pink one. It fixated on him with its dead eyes of stained yellowing glass. And it smiled. A grin that was somehow wider than it usually was tearing up the fabric in its face. exposing all the unnatural metal teeth.

In stiff, jerking motions it turned its body towards him. Its head never leaving its fix on him but rotating on its neck like an owl. Eventually it had turned to stand fully illuminated in the flashlight. He saw that the mane of its head where poofier than usually. Somepony had rigged it up with barbed wire and a lot of extra pink cotton wool.

It never stopped staring at him.

It started tilting its head. In small ticking jerks, the head lowered further and further down to the side, far beyond what a normal head should be able to bend. As it did it made a ticking sound, like a clock. Then (Before it had made it a whole lap around.) It snapped back upright with the ringing signal of an alarm clock.

Then it blinked.

“Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie!”

He screamed like a filly, turned his tail and ran, away from the pink meanness.

Foolishly, he turned his head to see that the pink doll was coming after him. Not walking or running. But hopping. Every bounce was clearly marked by the hissing sound its pistons made every time they discharged.

Fortunately for him it was not a very fast way of traversing. And he heard the sound disappear behind him as he turned a corner looking for his office. He had dropped his flashlight as he screamed. But Even in the dark he could find his way.

He found the janitor's closet. Which was also the guardspony office – his room. He threw the door shut behind him. Barricaded the door-handle with the broom. Then he pulled the stool against it. Then threw the shelf in front of the boor and finally he pushed a table into the shelf. Then he sat down in the dark and bit his hooves.

They are not coming in here. He thought. They are not coming in here. I'm just gonna sit here until dawn. Until somepony comes and stops these possessed machines.

Outside the door, the hissing of pistons drew closer.

“Where did you go” it said with an unnatural pause. “Are we playing hide and seek?”

NO! No hide and seek. He didn't want to play. He wanted to go home. He wanted to he held in the sweet embrace of his marefriend. Never had he missed her so much as right now.

“Hide and seek … Hiiiiide and Seeeeeek”

The noise of its jumping pistons started to fade away. It was moving away. He allowed himself to let out a breath.

Then he heard something above him. Something crawling in the airduckts.

No. there was no way. The couldn't ... It was just a mouse. He told himself. A really, really fat mouse.
The sound stopped as soon as it had arrived. And the whole building fell as silent as a tomb.
Against better judgment he turned around. And found himself staring right into a pair of stained glass eyes not an inch Away from his own.

“Found you!”

The scream he made could have shattered glass.

***

The next day. Teddy did not seem his usual happy self. When Sweetie asked what was wrong, me mumbled something about his employer quitting the job right out of the blue. Sweetie could not blame that purple pony. This job was unbelievably boring. She would have left herself, it it had not been for her new friends. They had kept her company through the entire night, and Sweetie had stuck by them, doing all she could to enhance their personalities as much as she could, regardless of what problems she encountered.

She kind of regretted having torn out the cable from the mainframe. It had caused a bit of a short circuit. But it was necessary. She needed the wires to rig up her new friends. And it was just in time too. for later that night, she heard a scream. It must have been a burglar. But her friends had scared him off.

The day started off as usual. With the dolls taking their places around the restaurant, starting up their carols in tune to Teddy's conducting.

"Alright my mares, lets open for business."

Today however, he was met with a unusually savory of hoof stomping and applause, cheering and The Pinkie pie model declaring that this was gonna be the best day ever! (Sweetie was sure that if she could - she would have thrown confetti into the air.)

Teddy was stunned by the mares unusual enthusiasm.

"Hey slowpoke! Are you gonna open the door anytime soon or what?" The Rainbow doll called out.

Teddy snapped out of it and unlocked the door. Before he could think about who had said that, The Applejack automation called out from the kitchen.

"Yeee haaa! Cider season is on everypony!"

"Cider? We don't serve cider here." Teddy called out, and ran into the kitchen.

As he left. The doors opened and the first guests started to enter.

“Welcome to Taco Teddy's … Welcome to Taco Teddy's … Welcome to...”

The Rainbow replicant just stopped and stared at the next filly in line. The she said “bored now” turned her tail and walked away. Leaving a very confused looking family at the door.

Sweetie was curious about what she was gonna do in her free time. She followed her around a corner to, disappointingly, find he just standing there. Staring into a wall.

“Dash? Whats wrong?”

“Hi Sweetie.” The Rainbow doll answered "Welcome to Taco Teddy's"

Sweetie shook her head. Realizing she would not get a clear answer from the replicant, She pulled out her wires and connected herself to Rainbow doll's systems. There she found that it was searching for a routine that didn't exist.

-:: You have no idea what Rainbow does at her free time::- Said her logic center. -::And so you Input no command for what she should do ::-

-:: But... I Didn't want to tell her whet to do, I didn't want to control her. I wanted he to choose on her own. Like me ::-

-:: She will never be like you ::-

Sweetie shook her head. It would get better. She had just had one night to give them more personality. Just some more time and she be able to give them things to do and choose between.

Lets see. What does Dash like doing?

Fly... and sleep.

She input those commands. And Dash immediately laid down on the floor, closed her eyelids, and made small fake sounding snoring noises. Sweetie pulled back her wires from the mare and left her to it.

Her logic center was already telling her that her little robot liberation was not going as she wished. But it was a voice Sweetie did not want to listen to, not yet anyway.

A scream came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of several pots and pans hitting the floor.

"Yeeeee haaa! Its officially apple bucking day!"

Sweetie dashed into the kitchen to see that Applejack was attempting to applebucking things. Instead of just carrying the bags of flour from the pantry, she sent them flying for the counter by kicking them with her legs. The bags broke and sent its white powdery content flying around the kitchen.

Teddy was screaming hing lungs of with the stop command, to no avail.

"Stop! Cease Activity! Halt command! Cruses! Why won't it work!"

"You didn't say the magic word." Sweetie yelled from the door.

"What are you talking about you stupid little ... " The rest of the sentence was cut of as as the powder got into his mouth and eyes. He started coughing and had to make a hasty retreat as the kitchen was filling up with a white mist. He nearly tripped over Sweetie as she was making her way into the kitchen, where Applejack's bucking was knocking down whole stacks of dishes.

"Please!" Sweetie yelled over the sound of shattering plates and random shouts of "Yeee Haaa" - "Applejack! Please stop!"

The wild country dance ceased as the last plate shattered on the floor. Though applejack did not seem the least bit concered about the damage she had caused.

"Oh hi Sweetie" She greeted, with that frozen smile on her face.

"Applejack. what are you doing?"

"I'm a applebucking... Gotta get that cider done for cider season."

"But this is not... " Sweetie began, then just let out a sigh. "Applejack, please stand still"

"You got it!"

She pulled her wires out from her leg and connected them to Applejack. She had no Idea what had sent her friend into a bucking frenzy. some sort of glitch perhaps? Some thing about working with food that made her think about apples, and made her think about the apple farm. She must have started treating all apple related products like apples. Sweetie cursed herself for inputting to much apples into her mind.

"What are you doing?" Teddy roared.

Sweetie turned around to see him standing in the doorway, he looked very disapproving, but even more confused.

"And what are you doing to my mares!?"

He stomped in and tore Sweetie away from Applejack. The contention broke before Sweetie had any chance to fix what was wrong with her. causing Applejack's head to twitch in an ackward way

"They are not your mares!" Sweetie cried!

"Yes they are!" Teddy roared, his face now turning red "I payed for them! They are my property! My business!"

"You are mean to them!" Sweetie yelled, "You are mean to me! I thought Taco Teddy was suppose to be nice to foals"

"I am. But I have to draw the line when some saboteurs messes with my business. Who are you you little impostor!"

He grabbed Sweetie by her mane, and pulled. The helmet she was wearing came off with a snap as the delicate springlocks that connected her eyelids to her temple snapped off.

The anger washed away from Teddy's face as he realized who, or what, that was standing before him.

"You?" He whispered as shock overcame him "How are you ... ? How can you? ... what are you?"

Their conversation was cut short by a commotion coming from the dining hall.

Out there thing where getting even worse.

The Pinkie doll was standing up on the tables in the foals section, She had been going on about baking cupcakes and broken out into singing the baking song. Unfortunately, she started throwing foals around like they where ingredients. She put them all on the big spinning seated whirl, and spun them around singing about stirring the bucket. Some exchanged nervous looks like they didn't know where to be impressed or worried. Others were abandoning their dinners and started to back up from the crazy mare.

Some of the foals who had been swept up for the ride were laughing. Others where screaming, Some looked on the verge of tears. Pinkie continued, unmoved by their feelings. Then she picked up one of the foals. A little brown filly with a very frosting looking purple mane.

“Cupcake... tasting time!”

Pinkies yaw detached like a snakes as she shoved the foal up towards her maw... and bit down.

A mare, presumably the mother, screamed. Then the whole restaurant screamed. The foal screams as well, for its hair was stuck between pinkies metallic teeth.

Ponies rushed in and tried to pull them apart. But the jaws were locked. The foals were crying. And everypony who wasn't trying to pull the pink monstrosity apart was backing up against the walls, grabbing their foals of relatives, or heading for the door.

One unicorn summoned a pair of scissors and cut the foals mane off. The foal was liberated, but at the cost of its mane. Bald, crying, kicking and screaming he was levitated back to his mother by another unicorn. That did not stop Pinkie Bot from snapping her yaw after her imaginary cupcakes. The ponies holding her threw her into the wall on the other side of the restaurant, but she quickly bounced back and started making biting noises at the other children.

One strong pony got in the way and delivered a front hoof punch that struck Pinkie doll in the mouth. The jaw flew off, sailed through the restaurant and landed in some unfortunate pony's taco. Pinkie was then sent backwards by a smaller stallions kick. She landed upon one of the tables, where she collapsed in some sort of short circuit seizure.

Everypony just stared in horror. A silence that gave Sweetie a chance to comprehend what she had seen.

She did not need to connect herself to the doll to know that this was because all the things in the pink dolls head were causing it to overload. She had spent more time on Pinkie Pie than any other doll, simply because she wanted to have some fun. Now, her Heart drive started to realize what her Logic center was already telling her. Giving them more Ideas to chose from would not make them better. Their processors where so small compared to hers. Bigger than the arcade machine. But no were near able to host a personality her own.

That's when the screaming turmoil really began, for the pinkie doll did not stop moving. Its voice returned and it madly started chanting:
“Twitchy tail, twitchy tail!”.

Its tail was vibrating so fast that it eventually flew off and landed in somepony elses taco.

Meanwhile, the Rarity doll said it was time for her bath. she went into the kitchen, and dipped her head into the water filled sink. Causing sparks to shoot everywhere. The body spaced out for a moment before collapsing and dying on the floor while reeking of smoke.

That's when the Applejack doll came out of the kitchen Randomly screaming about a rodeo. She started jumping between the tables
Bucking and shouting "Yee Haa" as she did it. Destroying things and damaging herself in the process. On the last buck, her back leg flew of, and landed in a third ponies taco.

The Twilight model had broken down and was just sitting in the corner, chanting "Books... Books ... Books" on its staggering voicebox. The most dormant model had to be the Fluttershy, who had simply hidden from the complete and utter turmoil that the restaurant was now in, by under the table.

A few ponies tried to evacuate the place, but where stopped when suddenly Rainbow replicant fell from the roof and slammed into the asphalt right outside the door. Causing the panicking hear do flee back into the place again.
Outside, Rainbows stiff wings twitched on her broken body, unable to fold out. It did however not stop the pieces of the Rainbow crash test dummy from mumbling

“So …. Awesome”

The herd headed for the back door. But was once again turned around as the old Twilight suddenly tried magic. It charged energy to its horn, which exploded, causing Twilight to go into crazy mode and start reenacting the psyco frenzy that Sweetie had experienced with Scoot and Applebloom.

“Hi girls!”

For no reason what so ever, the butter colored doll emerged from under the table and started screaming “Your going to love me” at the scared children.

"EVERYPONY PLEASE STOP!"

The dolls ceased their activities around the surrounded crowd, but the damage was already done. The crowd now turned to her with that kind of look in their eyes. The townsfolk that had previously seem kind to letting machine mares roam among them, whose eyes had once looked upon these mares with joy an fascination, or even better - indifference, was now replaced by looks of fear and distrust.
The haven for mares like her. That Sweetie had, however briefly, hoped to find here, now lied broken around her.

-:: No ... I can fix this ... I can fix this... ::-

Before she could say anything - the kitchen exploded. Out from the smoke stumbled a severely burned Rarity replicate, carrying a tray of burnt coal. Her hair was on fire and one eye had gone completely black.

Que the screaming to resume.

-:: Its over ::-

Sweetie turned away from the horridly tragic scene. ashamed that she on top of everything else had tried to input her own catastrophic cooking skills into the bots. Meaning there were now six bots that cooked as bad as she did.

As everypony was busy dealing with the other dolls, Sweetie pulled Rarity aside. She ripped a big piece of her own suits torso off herself and put it over Rarity's head, choking the fire out. She then threw the blackened torso into a corner, and led Rarity back into the closet, ripping off the last pieces of her suit as she walked.

"Rarity - Help me get dressed." Sweetie said with a flat tone as she pulled out her armor from underneath the shelves.

The ruckus was still going on as her faithful squire helped this fallen knight into her armor, and eventually calmed down into shouting and accusations being thrown left and right. A noise that slowly died down as more and more ponies left the restaurant. By the time Sweetie was armored and ready - The place had grown awfully quiet.

She put the plug of her copper strawed mane back into her neck, and marched out from the closet. Ready to face fire and brimstone, ready to run for her life. But the place was almost empty, the only pony she ran into was Taco Teddy. His hide and apron was singed, as if he had just had put out a big kitchen fire. Which - given the fire extinguisher he wielded in his magic - he must have.

"YOU!" He growled, His face turning as red as the fire extinguisher he was carrying. "You did this! You sabotaged my mares! You have ruined me! Why? Shy did she send you! Why does she suddenly wish to ruin my life!? Was the divorce not enough!

"I'm sorry" Was the only thing Sweetie could think to say. "Since you don't want me here anymore ... I ... I see myself out."

"OH NO! You are not going anywhere! You belong to me! I own you!"

"NOPONY OWNS ME!" Sweetie screamed, anger flaring up and her eyes turning Infrared.

The blasters extended from her back as she turned towards Teddy. The fat stallion stumbled backwards, stunned by the sight of the two energy canons, and by the fact that she defiled her.

"I came here on my own free volition" Sweetie continued "and I'm gonna leave whenever I darn well please! Nopony tells me what to do!"

"How... How advanced did she make you?" Teddy stuttered "Do you ... Do you actually think you are alive?"

"I am alive." Sweetie stated matter of factly, far to mentally exhausted to argue.

"No" Teddy mumbled "No ... NO! That can't not be. Don't tell me you are serious. You just cant do that Neurosa! You can't replace our daughter! You cant replace real life with artificial life! Think of the children! YOU CAN'T JUST REPLACE REAL CHILDREN!"

Sweetie snorted and turned her back to the raving stallion.

“Come Rarity, We are leaving this stupid brute.”

“Yes sister” The Replicant answered, and followed Sweetie out into the rainy day, and away from the restaurant.

Sweetie only stopped for a second to tilt a garbage can in order to retrieve her scarf and helmet, before she walked out into the empty streets. She felt no need to stay and press Teddy for information, she already had the map of the dolls origin point downloaded into her mind. There was no longer any doubt in her mind. She had to see whomever had made these dolls. Teddy's ex wife . Neurosa.

Though one thing that teddy had said nagged at her. What did he mean by replacing their daughter? Why would anyone replace anypony with a machine mare? The troubling thought of why her parents had made or bought her in the first place came back to haunt her. It was one thing if they just wanted an extension of their family - Horrid as it was to not adopt the orphans what were available. Or that she was just one big experiment. But to replace a pony? Why would anyone do that? unless you were a Bloodbot preparing an invasion.

What had happened to their daughter? Sweetie wondered. Was that the foal who had died? Was their daughter the one that she was based on. But something did not make sense. Who would sell their own daughter to another family? To the Belle's. To her parents. Was it perhaps just to field test her? To see if how authentic she could become?

So many questions remained. But Sweetie would find the answers soon. She was now more determined the ever.

It was time to meet her 'mother'.

***
-:: Heart-Drive integrity :: 48 percent remaining ::-
***

The handkerchief wiped the glass clean, as Teddy levitated it to the counter, where it joined the remaining surviving glasses in a big neat pyramid stack.

He always tried to do the dishes whenever there was something on his mind, hoping that he could wash away his troubles with the stains off the plates.

It was a strategy that worked, since there was rarely anything on his mind. His life had only been improving ever since he divorce from that crazy inventor mare who had been his wife. Thought they had not completely severed ties – their relation was now strictly business.
It was from her that his main workforce came. It had been a stroke of genius that favored both his business sense and her inventors skills, as she finally got to put some of those dolls of hers to use.

Truth was that his ex wife probably hated it. But Teddy knew she needed the money, and that no one else would pay for her cervices, since nopony else knew about that recluse.

Truth was it was her perfectionism that had driven them apart. And then there was the story of their daughter … the final nail in the coffin. Teddy shook his head, trying to shake that story out of his mind. That story was part of a past he wanted to forget all about. One of the reasons he left his wife was so that he could forget. He had made a new life for himself, here in this little town, this little loft for ravens, where there were no shortage of smiling children ... or parents willing to spend all their money to make their little darlings happy.

Money was something he had saved by employing those dolls. They worked for free, did not need any breaks, never complained, and required only simple instructions to operate. And if one of them broke down he could always order a new one. Teddy secretly wished that all his employers could be like that. But alas – he had been forced to employ some sort of real pony to guard his prized mares, as they could not be trusted to guard themselves.

A glass was crushed in Teddy's magical grip as he thought about that purple simpleton. He could kiss his last paycheck goodbye. How dared he just abandon his mares like that? They were his livelihood. Without them, this place would not have been half of what it was.

He had scored extra by playing off the celebrity of Equestira's most famous mares. Everypony wanted to come and see Rainbow Dash and the others. To be served by Twilight Sparkle and to cuddle with Fluttershy. To make them as authentic as possible, He had studied the heroines closely, even found out about their families. And because he ordered the dolls from his ex wife, he did not have to pay any royalties to the real heroines.

And now, his prized mares were all locked up in the closet, deactivated, for safety’s sake. Except for the Rarity model, who like some final insult had left alongside that cursed little bot. Her loss stung extra hard, for he always liked that model best. Sometimes, when nopony was watching, he used to kiss it. He knew it was not the real mare. But a Stallion could have his fantasies, right?

What was his ex thinking? Had she decided she no longer needed his money? Why send that little monster to him? Was she trying to make a statement? To prove something?

And the way that little machine had behaved. The way it spoke back to him, Disobeyed his orders, tried to play on the playground and be with the young customers - Just like a real filly. He had not thought about it at first. But looking back it was obvious. That little mare was acting like she was alive.

Had she … Had his ex wife actually gone and created real artificial intelligences? Had she actually had the Audacity to try and replace their daughter?

Teddy actually started to sweat thinking about what his ex wife would do with such technology. She would probably try and sell it – Try to encourage all mother to replace their daughters – even their sons – with her creation? Just like she had wanted to replace hers.
Who would not pay for a perfect foal?

For his inner eye. Teddy saw the foals, laughing and playing in his corner, slowly being replaced one by one by soulless mechanical entity’s. Foals that never ate, pooped, cried or complained. And if everypony replaced their children, their would be no need to make real children. No real ponies would be born! The machines would replace all of them too! The pony race would die out! Replaced by a new species of machines!

“I … I need to stop her!”

Teddy was broken from his escalating thoughts by the sound of the door bell ringing. Probably some more parents that wanted to complain.

With a heavy sigh he walked out into the dining hall.

There he found not a family, but a whole group of worn down strangers already seated at the table.
They all looked cold, sore and unbelievably tired. Like they had walked for days through the bad weather that was only now sweeping over Ravenloft. Their manes and tails were drenched, and a puddle was already forming underneath them as the cold autumn rain dripped of them. Their hooves were dirty and they all had big black bags under their eyes, and one of their companions was injured. A pegasus with a broken wing wrapped in soaked bandages and branching a big swollen eye. Beyond him was a deep blue unicorn, whose teeth were shaking from the cold, branching a similar black eye, that only seemed to complement the darkness of his healthy eye, and the bags under them. Opposite to them was a green stallion with a tarnished brown beard and a yellow mare that would not stop clinging on him. Their bodies covered with tiny cuts, like they had run through a thorn bush.

Teddy put on a smile. If they were from out of town. They probably had not heard about the disaster yet. Maybe he could still make some profit out of this. Ponies who looked so hungry must surely want to eat him out of the house. And at this point. He did not care if they did.

“Greetings Strangers. What can I get you this lovely day?”

They all gave him a collective dark stare, clearly not appreciating the Irony.

Smooth Teddy, Real smooth.

Despite his less than stellar introduction, they all ordered lots of the cheapest Tacos. It was not long before Teddy had whipped up and served their orders, and he then got to witness them chew down his tacos with a ferocity befitting only starving ponies.

Since there were no other customers Teddy attempted to make some small talk

“I can see that you have traveled far. Tell me. What bring you here?”

“We are looking for somepony” The green stallion answered. “We heard that this might be the right place to start looking.”

“Lots of ponies comes through this place from far and near to taste Teddy's famous Tacos.” He said. “Can you be a little more specific?”

The blue unicorn spat out his last bite onto the floor.

“Don't play dumb with me! There is one reason, and one reason only that ponies come here – and it isn't because of these grease filled wheat breads!”

The Green stallion started getting up from his seat.

“word on the streets are that your establishment houses some unusual mares. And that you have just received a newcomer to your little mechanical family.”

Teddy swallowed.

“So I was wondering. Where are the mares?”

“Um … They had to be decommissioned.” Teddy said. “We had a little Incident.”

“Did this incident involve a little filly!?” the mare hissed, rising along her green stallion “Pale as death itself! With a mane as pink as chewing gum?! I'm telling you. Disaster and death follows that monster wherever she goes! She's like one of the four horses of the apocalypse!”

Teddy slowly backed away as the four guests rose from the table and started surrounding him.

“She is not so white any more” The green stallion added. “she is clad in Titanium reinforced, magic resistant armor, and armed with the most powerful energy cannons that Equestria has yet to see! Its literally a matter of national emergency that we find her!”

The blue unicorn grabbed Teddy by his apron. Not with his magic, but with his hoof.

“Listen here you slimeball! I have traveled far to find this little filly! I have experienced some things I really Didn't want to go through. I have literally seen a giant made of clay uproot a three to use it as a club and try to beat me to death with it! My patience ran out long ago, so you better tell me where that filly is before I ... ”

Before he could finish his threat. The pegasi put his hoof on the unicorns shoulder. Though it was but a gentle tap – It sent a wave of lightning through the unicorns body, causing him to collapse and let go of Teddy. Unlike the others. This pegasi bore a smile on his face, and his eyes shone kind and gentle.

“Fear not, for we are but servants of our queen mother whose light watches over us all. We are but guests in your humble house and seek only that you aid us in fulfilling out divine duty. My humble traveling companions simply wonders if you have seen this little filly, goes by the name of Sweetie Belle”

Teddy stared.

“Who … who are you people!”

“We work for your wife – Neurosa!” Said the blue unicorn as he picked himself up from the floor. “So don't bother lying to us. She has already told us all about what kind of stallion you are!”

The name made Teddy's yaw drop. Could this day possibly get any worse.

“She … She is gone. He coughed. She sabotaged all my mares and left”

“WHERE TO!?” Roared the Green pony.

Teddy licked his lips.

“Well... where did you come from?”

The bearded one looked like he wanted to punch Teddy in the face. But the pegasus stopped him with his healthy wing.

“We came from the woods, if you wonder. Is that important?”

“Well … Assuming she did not sneak past you, there is only one other road out of town. It heads towards the bridge crossing the stream, and from there it should not be too long before ... ”

They all looked at each other. Some common understanding passing between their eyes.

“She is going home.” The blue stallion laughed.

“Like a sheep, we have herded her right back to the hell that spawned her!” The mare cried.

The Green stallion simply turned around and headed towards the door.

“We'll catch her before then.” He mumbled as he stroked his brown beard.

Everyone but the pegasus turned to leave as teddy sank down by the wall. Madness, he thought. All madness. If his ex had recruited this many crazy ponies to her cause. It was only a matter of time before she would see her plan through. And there was nothing he could do to stop it … nothing …

… Unless.

“I can see this troubles you greatly my dear sir. Would you mind telling me what burdens your heart.”

“Tell me … Preacher … What do you intend to do with this filly when you catch it.”

The pegasus smiled.

“We only seek to receive her soul from her tortured prison, so that our glorious Celestia can carry her spirit into the ever after.”

Destroying her? Yes. That was something he could get behind. His ex wife needed to be stopped for the sake of all future foals everywhere

Teddy looked up into the stallions eyes. Not a word was spoken. But it was clear they had a common cause.

Chapter 22. The Blood of a Pony

Author's Note

WARNING:
THE LATER HALF OF THIS CHAPTER GETS REALLY DISTURBING
PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Chapter 22. The Blood of a Pony

Sweetie trotted along the lonesome road leading out of the town of Ravenloft. She knew she needed to get away, before ponies came after her with torches and pitchforks. Before they burned down the Restaurant, with every non-pony inside it.

What had she been thinking?

For just a little while, she had been able to tell herself that maybe - just maybe, she had found a place where robotic ponies lived. That she could have found a new home amongst her equals. That maybe there was even a place where robots and ponies could live side by side.

It was a dream that now laid in ruins. As broken and short circuited as the animatronics in that greasy restaurant.

They were not her equals, they were but mindless manikins dancing and singing to simple reels of code. Looked down upon by the normal ponies as nothing more than decoration in the shape of famous ponies.

Ponies she knew. And now they all laid broken.

Sweetie had not dared to stop and see what had become of the rest of the animatronics. Presumably they were all ripped to pieces by the bloodthirsty mob. The only survivor now walked behind her.

"Do you need a hug?"

Sweetie turned around to see the replication of Rarity still following her. She did not know why, but she had just not been able to leave the manikin mare back there. Maybe for the same reason she would not have been able to leave her own sister to such a horrid fate.

-:: Logic error // She is not your sister ::-

I know. But ... She looks like her.

-:: Error // The colors are all wrong // The mane is singed // One visual lens is ruined ::-

Just ... Shut up.

Sweetie could not allow herself to be distracted, Not while a lynch mob could jump out on any one of these houses.
She carefully trotted towards the end of town, making sure her infrared vision stayed off, so that nopony would be able to spot her with her red glowing eyes. Luckily, she managed to put the bulk of the town behind her without incident. Nopony was out tonight, hopefully they had bared themselves inside out of fear.

The village fanned out, and she began to trot normally along the single road left in front of her. She could let out a metaphorical sigh of relief as only a few sparse buildings remained on the outskirts of town

“Hello Sweetie”.

Sweetie jumped to her side, startled by somepony calling out her name. Out of the rain behind her, two strange creatures that had appeared. One looking like a giant bug, and the other like a ball with legs.

Yet, despite their sudden appearance. Her 'Stranger Danger' subroutine did not activate. For these were no strangers.

-:: Voice recognized // Raspberry Blue // Character tagged as 'friend' ::-

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." Said the giant pink bug.

Not wanting to scare them, Sweetie made sure her Infrared vision remained off as she moved closer to the two figures.
Up close she could indeed see that it was Raspberry and her little friend Blueberry from the other day at Taco Teddys. The older Filly was dresses as a giant Ladybird, with two hearts at the end of a pair of springs for antennas.
The other , Blueberry , was even rounder than the last time Sweetie has seen him. He was dressed in a big round sphere that matched his natural blueberry color perfectly. on the top of it, a few green leaves and a stem had been added. And he was also wearing a hat made of leaves on his head (which, along with his legs, were the only things sticking out of the ball through a few cut holes.)

What were they doing out here in the rain? And why were they dressed up for nightmare night?

“How did you know it was me?” Sweetie asked.

"Silly! Who else could it have been." Blueberry asked with a smile that sent her freckles sparkling " I don't know many other robots."

Was it really that obvious? Despite her armor and helmet and scarf - which she was glad she had tied around her face, she doubted Raspberry would continue smiling if she saw how she looked underneath.

"Besides I don't know many others who would be out walking around with a doll from Taco Teddy's."

Oh, that. Sweetie had sort of hoped that the darkness and rain would conceal them well enough to be taken for two ponies.

Raspberry waved at the Rarity doll, who proceeded to welcome them to Teddys Taco's, and reminded them to chew their food properly.

"Did Taco teddy give you two a day off?” Raspberry asked innocently enough.
She must not have heard what happened at Taco teddy, not yet.

"I quit." Sweetie answered bluntly. "We quit."

“Oh ... then, what are you gonna do?”

"I'm gonna go somewhere ... there is someone I have to see."

"Oh... well ... can it at least wait until after the show?"

Sweetie stopped.

"What show?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to see Madame Macadame with us.

The name rang a bell, and ignited a faint spark of hope. The mysterious alicorn and her costume cabaret of whatever it was that had been so prominently advertised as she entered town.

"I did ask you when I left yesterday.”

Sweetie just stared at her, trying to recall. But whatever Raspberry had tried to say had been blocked out by the ruckus of all the other fillies.

"I mean - Like you are dressed, I was sure you were about to go see the show." Raspberry continued "Its costume constraint today. All about changing who you are, to become someone else, or something you are not."

Been doing that all my life, Sweetie thought. I was so good at it I did not even notice it myself.

“Come oooooooooon!” Raspberry pleaded. Clearly disappointed when Sweetie gave no answer.

"Ehm ...." Sweetie stammered. Suddenly feeling torn.

Her logic center told her that she had nothing to gain from going to a simple costume show. That she would only run the risk of exposing herself. But her heart drive clung to that small blink of hope. hope that there might be a real alicorn there. Somepony who could help her with her predicament.

"Pleeeease?"

There was just something in Raspberrys pleading eyes that made Sweeties Emotional processor process an emotion that she had not felt in to long. That desire to just be like a normal little filly again, when not daring to let a friend down had seemed like the scariest thing in the world. In a way - It still did, even If Sweetie had experienced far worse things, she had yet to let anypony down as far as she was concerned. Others might have let her down. But she did not want to go of the deep end by doing it to others.
Raspberry and her little friend blueberry might not be in mortal peril. But she could not let them down.

She could take a small detour - Her creator was not going anywhere.

***

Raspberry and Blueberry led Sweetie off the main road and onto a small dirt path, hidden besides bushes and juniper trees.

Sweetie heard the voices, the laughter of children, of foals, fillies and colts, before she even saw the tent. It was a reasonable big circus tent with stripes of varying shades of green, sitting in a hoofball field hidden behind some shrubbery.
The tent was already lit up from the inside, making the stripes cast long cones of green shadows around the dark field.

“Come on” Raspberry edged her on. “The show has already stated.”

"But ... I don't have any bits" Sweetie pointed out. "*For entry fee"

"You don't need bits at Madame Macadames – Silly - Its free for all foals!"

Raspberry grabbed her little brother and headed in. Sweetie looked after them. Wondering how nice it must bee to have somepony of your own flesh and blood beside you. Someone of your own family. Someone just like you.

She looked up at the Replicant Rarity. This was the closest thing she had to somepony like her, and it was not even close. Its processor was too small, its circuitry minimalistic and the frame and pistons much weaker. This replication was perhaps also younger than she was. So completely inexperienced with the world, and unable to take it all in – like a mentally handicapped little foal.

“Please. Stay.” Sweetie told the replicate as she entered the tent.

“Sorry sister. Foals only.”

Replicant Rarity remained sitting out in the rain, its one functional eye remaining on the spot where sweetie had vanished. No more aware of the world around it now than it had been a minute ago.

Inside, the show was already going. And the tent was packed full of fillies and colts and even some foals. All dressed having dug out their Nightmare night costumes.

Nopony noticed Sweetie as she entered. All eyes were directed towards a small gypsy wagon standing in the back of the tent. Where some sort of disco seemed to be happening. From the wagon, a great number of spotlights were waving around, lighting up the tent with waves of green light. A big disco ball was spinning on the roof and music was coming out of a few speakers along the sides.

From the center of the wagon, a small stage had been extended. And upon that stage was the star of the show, a mare dressed in an exotic dress, dancing around a green fire. Her body shook and wiggled like a belly dancer and a snake charmer combined. So flexible and smooth that one could be mistaken for believing she had no bones in her tan brown body. With quick and energetic moves she had the audience hypnotized. Her frilly black hair and red, wide dress flowed like water as she waved it around, sending hundreds on tiny golden little bells that were woven into the fabric ringing a frantic melody. She even had bells strapped around her fetlocks and in her earrings.

”Behold an marvel at the mysterious madam Macadame's marvelous powers!” Bellowed the mare in an exotic accent that Sweetie could not place. She waved her hooves at the fire, and it erupted into a green pillar of flame that shot up high in the air, yet not high enough to burn the roof of the tent. When the flames evaporated, several butterfly's started circling around the roof. The spotlights all shone upwards for emphasis. And the children applauded.

Sweetie scanned the audience for Raspberry and Blueberry. They had squeezed themselves a few rows into the crowd. Sweetie wanted to join them. But it would be best to remain on the outside of the crowd, near the exit, she thought as she pulled her bandanna a little higher up over her muzzle and hunkered down next to one of the tent-poles.

”Madam Macadam can transmute everything into anything” The mare on stage proclaimed, as she pulled out a chair and placed it in the fire. The green flames licked the stool, but did not burn it. Madam Macadam then waved her hooves some more and threw some powder onto the fire. Again the flames shot up into a pillar. And when they subsided, there was a tall tree where the stool had been. Thin at first, but the branches quickly grew out into a wide and voluptuous crown that before their eyes started to sprout leaves, as green as none of them had seen since before Autumn.

The crown grew until it covered the width of the tent. The stem thickening along with it, and roots started dropping down from the stage and burrow into the ground.

Just as they all were sure the tree was about to outgrow the tent. Another flash of green flame bellowed it, and in an instant it was gone, leaves roots and everything. In its place there now stood a bizarre sculpture, carved entirely out of wood.

Madame Macadame pranced around the sculpture to the wild applauds of the crowd. In quick succession she transformed the sculpture into a totem pole - Filled with funny faces that drew laughs from the onlookers - To a walking stick that she did a little dance routine with - To a Door, complete with a wooden frame that she disapeared behind.

When she re emerged through the door but a second later, she wore an entirely new dress. A blue sleeveless dress with white ribbons.

“Madam Macadam can even transmute herself!”

She kicked the door down and stepped into the circle of flame herself. The pillar of fire rose again. And in that green flash - she had become a very different mare. Now with a light brown color scheme dressed in a Canterlot royal tuxedo, complete with a top hat that rested above her her long and pointy horn.

To show that it worked. she lit the horn in a green aura, She lifted the door, and with a magical flash transformed it back into the stool it had been. She then pulled her hoof into her hat, and pulled out a flurry of caramels that she let rain onto the crowd.

Sweetie tried not to think about her ruined tongue as some hard caramels bounced of her helmet.

In another green flash, Madame Macadame became a Pegasus. Great yellow wings sprouted from her back as she leaped from the stage and soared in circles over the crowd to show that these were no fake. Then she became a handsome stallion with a big mustache. Prancing around swaying his hips and asking if the new slim gala dress made him look fat. Drawing lots of laughed from the crowd.

Agreeing that he was too big for this suit, he casually stepped through the circle of fire again - and instantly became a colt. With the dress now far to big for her. And in the next moment she was Madam Macadame again. Only now she was a filly. With a version of her original gypsy dress fitting her perfectly.

The crowd of fillies stomped the ground in wild applause as filly Macadam bowed deeply.

She then proceeded to dance her hypnotic dance again. Wriggling around like a snake while trowing powder into the fire. The green lights started swooping the crowd and occasionally blinded Sweetie with a light that seemed to have intensified. The music increased in volume and a lot of mystical smoke started to pour from the stage.

As the dance went on. Madame Macadame slowly grew from a filly and into an adult mare. The crowd just stared, awestruck and hypnotized. All the cheering and hoof stomping had stopped. Sweetie had almost not noticed how silent and still the crows had become over the blinding lights and how loud the music was.

And ... she must be imagining things, but had everyponys eyes turned green? Or was that just the lights? And there seemed to be something moving in the smoke that now embedded the crowd. Small tendrils that shimmered in and out of existence with each sweeping move of the spotlights. Tendrils that seemed to wriggle out of everypony, and moved like snakes towards the stage.

From everypony except Sweetie that was. She had to shake her head to make sure she was not as spellbound by the dance as everypony else seemed to be. But it would be hard not to take once eyes of the stage, where the dancing Madame Macadame was growing bigger than she had been before. Wings sprouted once more from her back and a horn shot out from her forehead, and her mane and tail became so long voluptuous that they started to hang down over the edges of the stage.

Before Sweetie could think any further about it. An explosion erupted on the stage. Several fireworks detonated in various shades of green, and flame fountains erupted from the sides as the lightshow came to an end and Madame Macadame reappeared, now a tall pink Alicorn with a long golden curled mane and wings whose edges bore all the colors of the rainbow. There was even a crystal tiara on her head.

"Thank you, Thank you." She proclaimed, and lowered her wings and head in a royal bow. "You are really a most wondrous audience."

The crowd lingered for a moment. Slowly dropping out of a haze as the green smoke evaporated. But when they laid eyes on the alicorn before them. The whole tent shook with applause

"Dear crowd - Dear fillies and colts! you have had the privilege of witnessing the Great and Magnificent Madame Macadame."
“Now. For the big finally. Madam macadam needs a volenteer. Who of you are brave enough to step up and receive the once in a lifetime chance to become something your not?”

Her purple eyes swiped across the crowd. Her horn lit up with a rainbow colored aura, And the lights on her wagon started sweeping out across the audience.

“Would you like to become an Earth pony? Or a unicorn? Or a pegasus? Why stop there? Why not a Zebra. Or a griffon? Or a dragon!?”

The happy faces disappeared as the crowd started to become nervous. No pony dared to speak up.

“Will it be you?”

Madam Macadame pointed out at the audience. All the lights immediately converged to shine down upon a single filly dressed up as a lion.

"Would you are to, Just this once, Have the chance to become a Real Roaring Lion!?"

The filly nervously crossed her legs.

Madame Macadame moved on, and centered the lights and her gaze upon a colt in an space suit.

“Will it be you?, Brave colt. who gets to experience what its like to be a creature from beyond the stars!?”

The colt recoiled back.

Madame continued to point out into the crowd.

" Will it be you? Or you?... Or you!”

Suddenly, Sweetie found herself in the spotlight.

The whole tent seemed to go silent as Everypony turned their heads to look at her. The drum-roll that had been playing on the speakers came to a stop as if she was the punchline of the show. Even the alicorn on stage looked stunned.

If Sweetie had a heartbeat – It would have been racing right now. In that moment she wanted to sink thought the ground. Let the earth swallow her just so she could get away from those horrible, horrible eyes.

"I must say, that is one outstanding costume." someone said.

“You look just like a murderbot from the movies.”

“Those bullet holes look so real.”

”So little one. Are you bare enough to undergo the change of a lifetime?”

Sweetie had already undergone enough change to last ten lifetimes. But maybe, just maybe, this was the solution to all her problems. She only gave a small nod as Madame Macadame waved her up on stage. The crowd separated, forming a narrow walkway to Madame – the master of transformations.

Slowly, Sweetie began to walk towards the alicorn. Hoping that nopony saw through her ”disguise.” The crowd edged her on. Stomping their hooves in anticipation. But mostly just staring in awe at the realistic ”costume.” From somewhere in the audience, Raspberry cheered out for her as she climbed on stage. Then the crowd fell silent as madame took the word.

”Madame must say, that when she challenged you, fillies and colts of the town of Ravenloft – To a costume competition. She did not believe that she would find such devotion to the craft of changing one self. Madame dare believe that we have a winner in the costume cabaret!"

More applauds followed this.

“Now, little filly. Command me. Tell Madame Macadam what you want to become!”

The whole tent was silent and all the lights were directed at her. Everypony was eagerly awaiting what she would say. Sweetie wanted to crawl out of her metallic skin and disappear. If these ponies found out what she really was, there would be panic. It would be Ponyville elementary all over again. But maybe, just maybe, This madame Macadame was the real deal. Somewhere inside her, that little light of hope still shone, that maybe, this was the stars answer. Her one true Hearts Warming Eve wish coming true in front of a crowd of new friends – like the climax to some heart warming carol.

As quiet as she could, she whispered in her raspy broken voice.

”Can you turn me into a real pony?”

A silence follower her question. Somepony coughed into their hoof. Then some other pony started booing.

“Lame!”

Madame Macadame let out a nervous laugh.

“My little friend” she smiled. “Are you sure you don't want to try to be something else? You already are a pony after all.”

What was she to do? Should she show them the truth and risk panic, would this magician even attempt to try and transform her if she knew the truth?

“N... No...” Sweetie began.

“No she is not!” Somepony shouted. “She is a real robot!”

It was Raspberry, having climbed on top of the big blueberry sphere that her brother was dressed in.

Madame Macadame looked confused for a moment, then let out a understanding laugh.

She laughed and patted Sweetie on the helmet. Sensing that the crowd was about to grow restless, she cut to the point.

“If to become a real pony is your one desire, my little machine. Then your wish is my command!”

She designated Sweetie to stand in the circle of green, fire that was now burning low. Standing this close sweetie could see that it really was a circle, carved into the scene with a bunch of mystic looking symbols and runes in the middle. The fire was only burning along the outer rim on the circle – Leaving just enough space for one pony to stand in the middle.

Wasting no time. Madame Macadame waved both hoof, horn and her entire body around as she danced round Sweetie. The symbols beneath Sweeties hooves started to glow. Sweetie barely had time to brace herself before she was blinded by a bright green light, and the magical flames shot up high around her.

Within a second the light died back down. And everypony awed in awe.

What happened? Sweetie did not feel any different. She looked down on herself. And saw not a metal encased torso – but a pair of pink hooves, attached to a pair of pink furry legs.
Sweetie lifted the leg in front of herself. Watching it move to her will.

Did it work? She tried to feel it. But her touch sensors remained silent. They could not connect to whatever it was that now surrounded her body.

No … It did not work. All her systems were there in her head to confirm that she was still as mechanical on the inside as she had ever been. A quick checkup through herself revealed that she was still wearing her armor. Through the holes in her isolation she could send energy into the plates, confirming that they were still there. She could even fell the helmet on her head through a small electrical surge through her copper mane. It was all just hidden beneath whatever magic Madame Macadam had cast on her.

The other foals in the audience were applauding now. Madame Macadame brought out a mirror fro Sweetie too see the new self in. A pink filly with a wight mane looked back at her with blue eyes. Madame bowed and relished in the awe of the crowd. Boasting about her abilities.

Sweetie said nothing.

Inside, she could only feel disappointment.

***

The costumed party continued for a while. With more transformations being held. Ponies were changed into real life versions of whatever their costumes were supposed to bee. There were lions and aliens and trees. Raspberry became a giant ladybug and her brother a big round blueberry. There was candy and dancing and a lot more green mist. At no point did anypony question the authenticity of the transformations. They were happy to relish in what they saw.

Eventually, everypony changed back into their true selves. Though Sweetie suspected it had more to do with whatever illusions Madame was using were fading, Even if Madame herself claimed she was responsible for it all.

Sweetie remained by her tent pole until the party died out and everypony started to leave. She was complemented a few more times for her costume and even won first prize in the costume challenge.

She did not care. All the time she kept an eye on Madame Macadame. The only one whose shapes did not fade. She even let the other little ponies touch her as she danced with the. Letting them feel that her wings and horn were real, let them feel the different fabrics in the many dresses she switched between. Let them comb her massive mane with a brush she transmuted out of a hoof-full of the mud beneath them.

"What is it?" Raspberry asked, appearing besides Sweetie. Her mouth was full of candy and several caramel stains had joined with her freckles on her already dotted cheeks.

"I need to talk to Madame Macadame about something." Sweetie said on a low, raspy voice. "I need to ask her to turn me into a real pony."

"You mean - for real?"

Sweetie looked at Raspberry. Did she know that their 'transformations' were just illusions? Of course she knew. She was not stupid.

"Yes." Sweetie answered "Its what I want to become. Its the one thing I wish for this Heart Warming Eve."

"Why? Is it really so bad to be a robot."

Its worse than you can imagine, Sweetie thought, eyeing the crowd to make sure nopony was listening.

"Yes it is. I cant eat. I cant sleep, I cant feel anything."

She held up her front leg, knocking on the armor with a metallic hoof for emphasis.

"Oh ... That actually sounds pretty bad." Said Raspberry, her ears flattened and white freckles on her cheeks seemed to dim.

The tent was starting to empty around them. Blueberry walked up beside his sister and pulled her costume wings. He let out a big yaw.

"I ... I got to go home now." Raspberry said. "Good luck with becoming a pony ... and ... I hope I see you again."

"Me too" Said Sweetie.

-:: And the next time we meet. I'm gonna be a real pony ::-

Blueberry and Raspberry waved their goodbyes and exited the tent. Sweetie locked her eyes on Madame Macadame, who by now was returning to her original self. The wings shrunk into her back, the horn disappeared and her colors changed from the royal pink to the light tan brown of the gypsy pony. Along with her dress that seemed to morph on its own back into the red wide garment with bells and earrings.

She let out a big yawn and headed for the back of her wagon.

"Excuse me!" Sweetie called out.

Madame turned to her with tired golden eyes.

"Can you really transform somepony into somepony else?"

"My little child" Madame proclaimed, sounding a bit offended. "Did you not see the feats of magnificent magic we preformed today."

"I saw magic alright. Smokescreens and illusions."

"Preposterous! Are you accusing the great Madame Macadam of fraud!?" She said in a very extravagant way.

Sweetie wished she could narrow her eyes.

"I know you used Illusions on me and the others."

Madame hushed her, looking around for a few stragglers that remained in the tent. Though they seemed more interested in eating their caramels than listen in on them.

"I just want to know. Is it really possible to transform a pony into something else so that it stays permanent." Sweetie asked.

Madames eyes turned sharp.

"I see. You are of the quite the perceptive and curious kind, are you not? You wish to attempt to bribe the Magnificent Madame Macadame in exchange for some of her secrets? is that so?"

If she was trying to stare Sweetie into submission. She was doomed to failure. Part because Sweetie had stared into eyes far scarier than hers, and partly because Sweetie could not blink.

"Maybe. Or maybe you are just a fraud." Sweetie said.

Madame gave her a devious smile

"Fine! If you want proof of what the Magnificent Madame Macadam can really do. Then follow me!"

***

Sweetie followed madam Macademe into her wagon. The interior was cramped. The walls were covered with shelves that housed all kinds of exotic brews, stored in bottles and canisters of all shapes an sizes. Trinkets and gadgets hung from the roof. And In the back there was a small brewing pot that simmered with some kind of green stew. Except Sweetie doubted that the green slime inside actually was stew.

It all made Sweetie think of Zecora's hut. Except way more cramped and dirty. There was no visible place to sleep. But she did see a hammock sticking out from one of the drawers.

Madame macadame levitated out a number of potions from the shelves, and juggled them in her magic

"This is where the true magic comes to be child. Madame has traveled far and wide, aquiered knowledge that most could never dream of. Knowledge of how to turn led to gold and back again. Of how to turn stones into flowers ... and fillies to stones." She said with a wicked grin.

Sweetie stared in awe.

"You are an Alchemist?"

"Correct child! I know how to break down any substance into its tiniest parts - and put them together again - as something else entirely."

She leaned in on Sweetie, levitating one of the smaller tubes tight up to her scarf clad muzzle.

"One sip of this will turn you inside out" She said. "Go on. Try it. I dare you."

Sweetie locked at the smiley purple stuff that bubble inside the tube. Trying to escape as it it was alive. Sweetie were glad he gag subroutine was off. She was also curious. If she drank it, would it actually have any effect on her? She knew a health potion could restore her skin, so a potion might likely affect whatever biological parts of her meat-sack remained. But what about the rest of her?

A knock on the door broke the threatening mood.

"MADAME MACADAME" A colt yelled. "MORE CANDY!"

"Foolish foals." Madame muttered under her breath. She pushed her way past Sweetie and opened the door. The practiced smile returned to her face as she walked out to greet the remaining foals to one last trick.

Sweetie looked around the wagon.

There was a shelf full of crystals and jeweled talismans. The sight of them actually made Sweetie want to lick her nonexistent lips. The next shelf made her want to vomit instead. for it was filled with big jugs of organs off all kinds. From eyes, spleens and livers to whole sets of lungs and intestines. There was was a big beating heart inside a big glass jug.

In the middle of all this, Sweetie spotted something blue.

She could not believe her eyes. A round blue disk, similar to the one Dr Cardiac had showed her. Similar to the one she found in Dr Pain's scrapyard. She had found blue disks in stranger places. But why did Madam Macadame even have such a thing anyway?

Paranoid suspicions began to creep up into her mind. Was Madame Macadam one of them?

Sweetie grabbed the disk from the shelf. Some curious thought told her that the answer to that question was inside that disk. Even though her experienced logic center told her that noting good could come out of what was stored on those disks, curiosity proved to strong of a programming to overcome. Energy had already began surging through her horn, readying for downloading.

Against her better judgement Sweetie tilted her helmet up, and brought the crystal to the tip of her horn.

-:: Compatible energy recognized ::-

-:: Transferring information ::-

-:: Synchronization with systems ::-

-:: New data Loaded // Running recording ::-

The world shimmered away. The interior of the cramped wagon fuzzed out and became replaced with a small dark room. The only souse of illumination was a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Once again, Sweetie found herself trapped in the body of another. But this one was different. Slimmer, and empty in a way that she could only register as hunger. She also registered an explosive headache. And Sweetie knew that if her sensors and other body functions had not been shut off - she would have experienced pain on the level to lightning torture. Maybe that's why the vision was fussy.

But the worst thing was that all four hooves were bound by metallic restraints that cut into her legs. Not because they had been tied around her legs. But because she registered something moving THROUGH her legs.

The pony she was occupying dropped its head, and looked down onto its legs. They were pitch black, gnarly, boney, hollowed out legs. Chains had been inserted through the holes. She could register them scraping against the insides as the pony she was occupying tried to move. But was held in place by a big padlock that locked the chains to a hook on the floor.

The sound of hooves against the cold concrete made the pony lifted her head again. A stallion walked into her field of vision. A dark blue unicorn stallion with a white mane bearing a few strokes of gray, and the blackest eyes she had ever seen. Sweetie recognized him from earliest memories, but was not sure of his name.

He was wearing a lab-coat, cut so fine along his body that it almost resembled a white suit - with a blue striped tie that matched his colors. His flank had been left bare. exposing his mark of a Prism with a rainbow shooting out of it.

In his magic, he levitated a crystal, as clear and colorless as glass.

“Allow me to explain again." He said "A crystal is like an empty vessel. Like a bottle. It can be filled with whatever you desire. Unlike a bottle though, it does not fill with fluid, but with energy.”

He waved a crystal in front of her.

”We already have a crystal that absorbs energy from brainwaves. We can copy and store thought patterns and memories. Why should we not be able to create a crystal that absorbs emotions?”

He smiled a devious smile.

"That's where you come in my dear. “We want you to use your magic. Whatever magic it is your kind use when you drain emotions and I want you to use it on this crystal. Don't worry about the details. Once your energy starts circling through this little beauty - we will copy it.”

Sweeties host hissed at him like a snake.

"Oh don't be like that dear. I know you must be hungry. You have not fed since, well, since I captured you."

He set the crystal down on a small table, then reached up and removed something from the top of her head. Sweetie registered something scraping off her horn. And a golden ring appeared in her vision. Similar to those rings unicorns give each other in marriage, except the gold had been scraped off in places. And what was underneath the thin gold coating looked more like some dark rock.

For some reason, the stallion was using his hoof to remove it.

As it was removed. Sweetie registered some of the restraint leaving the body, like some internal system had been switched on after being forcefully shut off. It was like when sweetie turned her skin back on after all that time in the rain. Like a lost scene had been restored.

And with that sense - Sweetie got some strange data presented to her. an echo that seemed far to similar to the signals coming from her own heart drive. And they were not coming from the body she was possessing, but from the stallion in front of her. He was like a beating echo of emotions. Of energy that swirled through his body.

The stallion put the ring on the table, then lit up his horn again. Sweetie registered something coming down from up above and attach itself to the head of her host's, who rightfully stiffened up as the helmet like object was strapped to her already sore cranium, and her horn was forced into something. Her captor levitated the crystal away from her field of vision. The sound of some levers being pulled reached her eyes. And some machinery started to hum. the only thing the host could do was to eye her capor intensely, with hungry eyes. That emptiness Sweetie registered seemed to grow stronger just by looking at the stallion. She could not tell what emotions this pony might have been feeling. But the 'hunger' seemed to triumph even over the pain.

"There you go." The stallion said as he turned back to her. "That's the look I wanted to see. Now - Feed. Like you have done so many times before on me."

Sweeties host just stared.

The stallion walked up and lovingly stroke his hoof across her cheek.

"I'm sorry honey - If my emotions towards you were as fake as this wedding ring. Truth is I have met another. Two others to be precise. One is the smartest mare I have ever met. The other ... Well. She would be a perfect match for me. Were she just a few years older."

He trailed off into his own thoughts. And as he did, Sweetie registered some powerful signal coming from the stallion.

“I can never really understand how somepony like her, whose true talent so very clearly is gem-crafting, would be satisfied making clothes.”

He turned his eyes back towards her.

"You can always imagine yourself as one of them. Even if you wont be able to physically become them ... Not with these running through your limbs."

He tapped the padlock on the floor.

"So go ahead. Take some of the love I have for others. Its what your kind does after all.

His smile widened.

"You could particularly use the feelings I harbor towards the young one, I could use some dampening, so I don't end up doing something ... Illegal."

There was a short pause before Sweetie's host body began channeling her magic. Energies that had passed through this blue disk were now being replayed as like the music from an old recording. And there energies were something her own heart drive would qualify as some form of emotions. Forbidden love, and the joy of success, all salted with a sadistic glee. These energies were entering her host body through the magic. Being hauled in like a fish on a hook from the stallion in front of her. A faint green energy fanned out from his horn as his dark eyes turned green. And as the energy entered her, it filled her. The weird emptiness subsided, like how hunger goes away after a good meal.

Even though Sweetie could not understand how the magic worked, she could understand that this host pony was draining that stallion of emotions.

It was over in a moment. The stallion smiled in satisfaction as the green subsided from his eyes, and he when to shut off the machines that hummed and sparkled from out of view. He returned with the crystal in his magical grip. Now glowing with a characteristic green energy.

“See. That was not so hard was it?” He said. “Do you see how happy you make me? Can you feel it?”

She could feel it. Not Sweetie personally. But her host body.

The stallion put the crystal down and levitated a key out from his pocket. And unlocked the padlock.

He kept talking as Sweeties host freed herself from the chains that bound her legs.

“Now. before you try anything. Know that we have also placed a disk of the previously mentioned crystal in your head. a little safety precaution and experiment rolled into one. With it, we can record your consciousness for future analysis.”

He smiled sadistically.

“We are going to remove it now. We really have everything we need from you. You will be free to go … Or you can think about my offer.”

Sweeties host pulled the metal links through the holes in her legs and massaged them. She stared intensely at the stallion. But did not try or say anything.

“Work with us, and we will supply you with all the happy emotions you need. I wish you wouldn't have to disguise yourself, I truly find your kind fascinating, and I hope to get to know so much about you. Not as husband and wife oblivious. But as partners. Unfortunately it would be best if you did not inconvenience the others members of out little science fair. And just so we don't make thing awkward between us, I think its best that you go under a different name.”

He reached out a hoof.

“What do you say... Dr Heartache?”

-:: Memory file ended ::-

Sweetie found herself stunned. All the pieces very quickly fell into place. The body transformation. The green light!

The door cheeked open as Madame Macadam entered the wagon once again.

“What are you Doing!?”

Sweetie spun around and pulled out her guns. The master blasters where so wide that she got stuck in the crammed space between the selves. Not that she could miss at this distance.

"YOU ARE A CHANGELING!!!" She screamed and pointed!

Madame Macadame stared at the tubes of imminent destruction.

"What are those?! Part of your costume? ... And what do you mean by ... You dare accuse Madame ... ?”

Then she saw the blue crystal disk Sweetie still held in her outstretched hoof.

“How did you!? ... You saw? ... Impossible! ... No pony can read those devices except a very special computer machine … What are you!?”

Sweetie removed her helmet and pulled down her scarf. Her metallic skull and face was showing along with her fierce, lidless, glowing eyes.

“I am a very special computer machine.”

Madam macadam gasped in horror.

“NO! NOT YOU!”

She collapsed on the doorstep in violent spasms, and puked green slime all over the floor.

***

It took Sweetie several minutes to shake Madam Macadam out of it. And several more for the mare to get her bowels under control. Every time she laid eyes on Sweetie a new wave of seizures hit her, followed by even more vomit added to the growing puddle.
Eventually, Madame had simply puked out everything she had in her belly. And after puking bile a few times, she was finally able to get a grip on herself.

Her eyes were red and dry, and she had gone extremely pale in just a few minutes. Sweetie could not help but to feel sorry for the poor Changeling mare. (If the changeling even was a mare - Sweetie was not sure if changelings had the same genders as ponies.)

Sweetie did what she could to nurse for her. Which was not much since Sweetie was lost amongst the herbs and organs that filled the wagon. Only after her last convulsion madame she able to tell Sweetie to fetch her a cup full of the green goo that brewed in her pot.

The stench disagreed with Sweeties smell-sensors, but the stuff worked like painkillers for the changeling, as she was able to regain some of her composure.

With the wagon having been made a mess of, the two moved out into the tent. Only thankful that nopony else was left to see them. The tent was empty, all foals having exited into the rain that could be heard smattering against the fabric roof now that no music was playing.
Even so, Madame refused to revert back from her gypsy form. She just sat down on the edge of the stage with a cup of her strange brew. Looking sick and ashamed of herself as she sipped from her cup.

Sweetie carefully asked her what the whole scene in the blue disk memory had been about. Had she actually shook that hoof after the scary stallion had tortured her.

Madame could only confirm that, yes - she had.

Sweetie could only ask why.

Madame Macadam took a big sip from her cup, and stared up her tale:

“I did not first know what the whole thing was about. Every one worked in their own cell. Independent from each other ... Or perhaps that was just me?"

She shook her head and continued.

"Technically I was a volunteer. But I was on constant surveillance. They did not trust me. It is very hard for a changeling to get a pony's trust. But I did not care. I thought I was living the dream. Research that could store emotions on crystals. Then I realized the nightmare. That the crystals where no storing vessels. They absorbed, and what was absorbed could not be taken out again. The energy became bound to the crystal. It becomes crystallized. And we changelings can not eat crystals. We are no dragons.”

"Either they kept me in the dark ... or they simply did not tell me ... That the projects true goal was to create... You."

She coughed like she was about to puke again. Only a sweep from her cup stopped her spasms.

"Synthetic life. Artificial life. A life-form I could not draw emotions from. That I could not feed of. That I could not feel any emotional energy from."

"We changelings drain emotions from living creatures. Not from plants. End definitely not from mechanical robots.”

"But. Why did they need a changeling?" Sweetie asked "Why did you have to put your magic into that crystal?"

Madame macadam looked like she wanted to puke again. But managed to hold it in with another sip.

“Before me ... they attempted to extract emotions from themselves ... the same way they extracted body functions - like hunger, cold, fatigue - and stored them on these nerve cluster crystals. Basically, a crystallized artificial nerve system."

With my help ... With my magic on their crystals ... They could begin recording raw emotional data. At first they could only record one emotion at a time. And they had to make the test person feel that emotion, and that one emotion alone, Genuinely, To receive accurate data. Imagine what we did to sustain one particularly sad emotion in a subject."

Madame sighed loudly.

"But the emotional spectrum is like an infinite sea, it contains more flavors than we can fathom. Nopony feels exactly the same about anything. As such, we were never sure we could think of every possible emotions.

I eventually came up with the idea that instead of us trying to imprint emotions onto you. You should take the emotional energy from us – and everypony around you. That way your heart drive would receive a constant feed of new information. All that energy-data would them mix together and, in a way that is sure to be beyond you, this made you able to eventually create new emotions yourself, after having learned what emotions felt like from others. By tasting their feelings. Like a foal learns what things taste like by eating them.”

“What do you mean!" Sweetie shouted in despair "I felt what others felt? I absorbed others feelings?”

“We installed a changeling device in you. I designed it myself.”

Sweetie gasped in shock. Was she a mechanical Changeling?! This could only mean that she really had no emotions of her own! She only felt other peoples happiness. Other peoples sadness. Other pony's feelings!!! Did she have nothing that was her own!?

She wished she could enter her heart drive, to see that she was still not leaching upon the emotions of those around her. She begged Madame to tell her that it was not true.

Madam Macadam just shivered and puked over the stage. She asked Sweetie to keep quiet about her past. For the the mere thought of that project made her sick - literally. Ashamed as she was to admit it the time spent in those laboratories had scared her. For the project was so dark and surrounded by pony's who felt nothing but mistrust and contempt for her.

"But then - How could you possibly say It was a dream come true. " Sweetie asked. "How could you possibly work with them if they made you so sick?"

"It was not always like this" Madame sighed, and threw the empty cup onto the muddy floor.

She jumped off the stage and walked back into her wagon to get some more. All the while she kept talking.

“In the beginning it worked, to feed of their happiness whenever a new break through was made. But that became rarer and rarer. They started despising one another and the project itself. All the Doubt, worry, sorrow, anger, frustration and - towards the end - madness. So many negative emotions are not healthy for a changeling.”

"But were they not happy that they succeeded" Sweetie asked. A dark possibility stirring up her mind "Was I not a success?!?"

“In a mad way, they were happy. Madame answered "Happiness that comes from madness is like a birthday cake full of rat poison.”

"It was the reason we saved everything on those blue disks. Because what was stored on them could not be read nor activated by a normal unicorn. You need a very special kind of hardware to see the information - energy stored inside it. I remember the others reading up on several hours of research material or simply talking out loud to themselves, so that what they saw or said should be stored in the disks they had inside their heads. - So that if we were ever to be found out there would be no one who knew how to access the information."

"Eventually they simply recorded everything that way. No pen and paper nor quiver and scroll. Not even typing on them computer machines anymore. They just walked around with those things on their heads all day and all night and just uploaded it to the mainframe."

"In retrospect I should have understood that it was the same with the emotions-krystals. One could not just suck on them and hope that one would get the love inside. I needed to find some way to extract that emotion from the crystals. So I stole my part of the research and left in hope of discovering some way. Ive been trying even since."

She waved a hoof across the wagon. To at the deformed, transmuted crystals and organs. All failed attempts to release the energy within. Even the beating heart in a jar had once been a Krystal.

“Shame it does not actually produce any love.” She said as she eyes it. "Its merely a blood pump."

Sweetie briefly remembered something Dr Cardiac had said about that matter.

Madame put her muzzle down into her pot, and took a few big sips.

”Think what that could mean for us changelings." She said as she re-emerged from the pot, muzzle covered in green goo. "To be able to store emotions instead of always having to feed of ponies and others all the time. But such ambitions take time. So I started this carnival as Madam Macadam to sustain myself.”

It made sense. She used her Alchemist knowledge for both show business and research. And she fed of the love and joy of her audience.

The thought of her alchemy brought Sweetie back to her hopeful dreams. The very reason she had wanted to see madame to begin with. Despite everything, she leaned in and asked.

“Can you make me a real filly?”

Madame gave her a questioning look.

"If I could just become a real filly. I would be so happy that I would let you feed on me! Please ... Its all that I wish for."

***

It was not long before Sweetie was standing in the middle of a giant transmutation circle. The stage had been retracted back into the wagon to make place for all the runes, symbols and other things that Madame needed to prepare to make this transformation come true.
Amongst the preparatory instruments was several bottles of strange liquid that madame used to draw her circle and symbols. Crystals places at key points around the tent - bout for magical purposes and for illumination. Several thick tomes. and the whole cauldron of green medicine that Madame would repeatedly drink from as she worked.

She science of alchemy - the art of transmutating something into something else - was something that had always interested this changeling. As a member of a people that could alter their bodies at will. She had always sought to improve the lives of her kin by altering the world around them as well.

She had traveled the world to acquire this knowledge, posing as scholars she had been able to wriggle her way into the homes of masters of the craft. That's when she realized that one did not have to pretend to be somepony's love interest to get their affection.

It was easy to wriggle your way into any stallions heart. The only thing you had to do was to be interested in him
Take on the form of a sexy young mare – Any mare really - And Stallions would be all over you.

The prestige-filled stallion with a prism for a mark had been no different. He might even have taken it for granted that a sexy mare should be drawn to his prestige. (Not a too difficult roll to play, considering she was interested in him – Not just in the way he might be expecting.)

She had stayed with him and learned from him until that day he went away on some secret job. And like a trophy wife she had awaited his return. Using the meantime to study her craft and harvest the energies she needed from the local ponies. Who all needed something from this strange seductive alchemist. She had even considered setting up shop in the easy to fool town - But those dreams had been shattered the day her prestige filled Prism came home - and proposed.

In retrospect, she should have realized something was wrong. That something had changed inside him. That she was no longer able to get the love that she had previously harvested from him. It was as if his heart had grown cold – or worse – found of another.

It had been so stupid of her to believe his proposal. So stupid was she to accept that wedding ring. But the chance of an lifetime supply of love, bound to her by marriage, was something too good to pass up. And too good it had been. For that ring had been a moonstone coated in gold trimming. And once he put it on her horn. Her abilities vanished and she was forcefully reverted back to her true form.

The memories made her stomach turn. She downed another cup of green medicine. And went through her books.

"Are you sure this will work." The little mechanical filly asked from within the circle. "Have you done this before?"

"Yes. don't worry." She said to reassure the filly "I have done this many times before."

It was not a lie. But the details surrounding her knowledge was something she had tried to forget.
After she had been taken in on Neurosa's little science project, she had dome more than act as an emotional adviser and transmute their gizmos with her magic. She had also practiced transmutation together with Necro on a secret little side project. To create a living doll. (She tried not to puke at the memory.) It had been part of Neurosa's backup plan.

It started out small, First just the art of creating tissue on magic stones. Then transmuting forth whole organs. She practiced until those organs could have been used for donation purposes. But when it came time for creating a whole body – things got difficult. It was one thing to transmute just one liver – Just one eyeball – Just one heart – Just one muscle - just one bone. But when you had to put it all together in one big complex structure complete with nerve systems and veins.

She tried not to remember the deformities on the abominations they had created while trying to come up with the right formula.
Again it had started out small. At first just mice – Then bigger and bigger things until they could create a life sized foal. A blank slate of a body with no soul – as Dr Shockwave would have put it. How could it have – The thing had no mind of its own. And the end result – though physically perfect – was just as brain dead as their main subject.
Before that day – she had no idea one could succeed and fail at the same time. Even though Neurosa called it a success, She could never forget those empty eyes of the abominations. Not the twisted laughs of Necro as he played with them. Using his magic to control them like one of his puppets. Again Neurosa claimed that this was part of the experiment – Of that back up plan, whatever it was supposed to be.

In the end. It was only skin tissue that became of importance. As she (as Dr Hearache) worked to transform what little flesh their subject had left so that it would not reject the Metallica structure it was built upon. To tie it to crystals that would act as transmitters and receivers for all the nerve impulses, and emulate a pulse, Blood circulating through the remaining veins – despite there being no heart to pump it.

The regeneratory spells inside these crystals would simply replace whatever blood was left – and would given enough time and energy – regrow whatever tissue that had been lost or damaged.

It was these crystals that she – as Madame Macadam – focused on now. In them existed all the magical writing for the pony that this filly should have been. The blueprints for her biological body.

She would have to draw out this energy, to work from this blueprint as she transmuted the rest of the filly.

“The art of alchemy is pulling something apart to its very core, and reconstructing it using the same building blocks into something new.” She said to the creature' as she tried to explained (and simplify) the process of alchemy: This required extensive insight in both the material you were breaking down and the material one wanted to transmutate it into – so one knew what building blocks to use. Transmuting something like a wooden chair into a tree was easy – she didn't really change anything but the physical appearance. Wood was still wood. When it came to pulling caramels out of the ground, she would simply reconstruct the natural minerals found in rocks and stuff to create a sugary aroma. (She doubted the kid's parents would like to know they were literally eating dirt – But the kids loved her for it – and that's what she needed. Love. )

“Will that work?” The filly asked. “Will I really be a real little filly forever? I mean. People have tried to use magic to change things in other ponies – Like give them wings or a horn. But its always temporary. Ponies still cant use magic to fix a pair of broken wings” She said. Apparently trailing off to some tragic memory.

Madame coughed in her hoof. Trying to control the revulsion she felt over not being able to sense the fillies emotions. The only part of that filly she could read was the true to life eyes. She should know them – given that she designed them herself. Neurosa had made her design a bunch of different eyes of various colors before they settled on the natural green. She had no idea what Neurosa had done with all the other eyes.

"Well . You see. With ponies having inherent magic. It would be impossible to make the new form last forever without rewriting their very magic core. "

“Luckily – you don't have any inherent magic” she said.

The filly trailed off again with that sad look in her lidless eyes.

“But. Will I have magic one I'm a real pony?” she asked.

“Of course!” Madame said.

That clearly made the filly excited to get on with this. Madame was excited herself. Eager to put this part of her past behind her. She explained in as much detail as she dared how the transmutation process would work. She expected most of it would go over the filly's cybernetic head any way. Truth was she would have said anything to make the filly stand in that transmutation circle.

There were also some things Madam Macadame did not explain. Thing that where so horrid she did not dare speak them less she would puke her own guts out. It was not just what Sweetie and the project had done to her. But what Sweetie represented at large. A race of machines in pony flesh. Without any emotional energy to feed on. A race that could live forever and possibly repopulate the world. A world full of hollow, emotionless metal ponies would be the death of her entire race. The changelings would starve to death in a world filled with nothing but artificial emotions.

But she had a chance to stop this before it even began. She was gonna make sure the robots could never take over. She was gonna destroy Sweetie the bot... She was gonna turn metal into flesh.

As for with the Mechanical body of the creature before her. She was simply gonna need to remember all the details of all the materials that had ever been put into her and calculate for them in her alchemical formula.

Chance of failure: More than she would ever let on.

Luckily she still had all her graphs for all the material used to create that body. Carefully documented and translated into alchemic formulas for the possibility she would ever need to transmute metal or something. Charts that detailed the fillies structure down to the isolation on her wires and the oil in her tubes. Things that had all gone into designing the Repair system. A magic that restored her artificial body similarly to her the regenratory magic worked. Company secrets that had become public domain when the great fire broke out.

Chance of failure: Still to high for any safety regulations. Luckily, she was not in class any more.

“But what about my armor. Do I need to take it off?”

“No . Don't worry about that. I will simply use it to create your new body.”

“But … ”

“Don't worry. I know what titanium is made off. I can even use the extra mass to make you bigger than you were before. That's what you want right?”

Again- the filly became over excited.

That had not been a lie. She did know the chemical composition of titanium. Silly Molten Metalhoof must have thought his formula was so unique. But all metallic compositions uses the same rudimentary base.

With a bang, she closed her book, and drew the last inscriptions into her formula.
Her transmutation circle now covered the whole interior or the round tent. It had taken hours, and had to be the most complex transmutation circle Madame had ever made. The filly had been cooperative and not moved an inch from the spot in the center. But the sound of her book closing made her rise her head.

"Now ... Little one. I hope you are ready to meet your new self."

Madame spat into her hooves, rubbed them together, then slammed them both down on the edge of the circle. Her horn lit up with an un-camouflaged green aura as she summoned all her strength. The crystals around the circle lit up with energy and the light began to spread across the ground - leaking into the symbols and lines like water running through a canal. Within moments the whole floor was lit up in a swirling green light.

Madame began to chant to herself in her native tongue, and the light converged onto the middle - like the rings a rock forms when dropped into a still pond, only backwards. The whole circle was pulsating with energy, and the light began to consume the filly. The green was climbing up on her like a physical goo. Until her whole figure had been covered in light. Madame could feel it working its way in through the cracks in the armor. The thick plates might be magic resistant - bit that was about to change.

Madame pulled the cork out of a bottle and poured the content onto the circle. An alchemic substance that would erode the magical protection. The filly began to glow even brighter, and the energy began to work its way in through the armor. Seeping in to cover every inch of the filly's insides, from the copper cable and the plastic that isolated them, to her hydraulic frame, and the crystals that were embedded into it, was covered in light.

Madame began to draw the energy out of the from those crystals. Making the energy stored inside mix with the magic of the circle and form the basis for what the new body should look like. She was already sweating bullets. But with a final ounce of magic, she ripped a wound open in the bare organic flank that still remained under the filly armored rear.

The whole circle seemed to boom as the color changed from green to red. Madame released her hooves from the circle, sweating and panting. She had done all she could. Now - the magic of the circle would run its course. Nothing short of disrupting the symbols would break the process.

From outside. The whole tent must be shining like the worlds greatest disco ball. Madame was glad she had set up her show in a secluded field outside of town. Not that it had been a coincidence - It was something she always did, so that outsiders would not accidentally stumble onto her when she was in the middle of harvesting her audience.

She had spent a good deal of her latest harvest on this circle. But it would be worth it. Soon the world would be rid on the threat of emotionless machines. Madame filled another cup in the pot. and sat back to watch the show.

Before her eyes. The filly was beginning to change. Fur was starting to grow out through the cracks in her armor. A pink tail extended from her rear, and rosy flesh begun to climb up her exposed neck and extend itself like tentacles over her head. With the cranium covered, skin began to form, followed by fur, and finally a pink mane. A pair of eyelids slid down over her eyes - and the spell ended with a big green pillar of energy rising from the center, almost all the way to the roof of the tent

It took a wile for Madames eyes to get used to the darkness that filled the tent as the magic of the circle subsided. But she could make out the outlines of a filly, standing in the center. She did not collapse, that was a good sign.

With her magic. She ignited one of the spotlights on her wagon, and turned it towards the center.
There - A small white filly now stood.

But - Why was she still clad in armor???

Madame could not believe her eyes? Every plate of the previously magic resistant titanium armor was intact. Not only that - it looked BETTER than it had before. There had been burn marks and scrapes and bludgeon bumps that made the filly look like she had fought in a war. Now ... There was not a single scrape.

Where had she gone wrong? what had she overlooked? The transmutation was supposed to break down the armor and use the material to construct a body - not the other way around.

And why wasn't the filly breathing?

Oh ... Oh Chrysalis have mercy!

Madame had to take a big slurp of medicine to keep her body in check. The possibility hit her that the filly had been rendered flesh and blood - but with all the screws of the armor now poking threw her reconstructed body. Panic began to set in. What was she to do now!?

She jumped back as the filly moved!

A small hoof rose from the floor and touched the new face. In the next second, the filly opened her eyes.

Madame let out a sigh of relief.

"Welcome." She said. "To your new life."

She conjured up a mirror, and held it up to Sweeties face. Te filly stared into the mirror. Her face showing genuine surprise as she stared into the mirror image. But also concern. She preformed a few facial expressions. Opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

Madame should have been the happiest changeling in the world. At least the filly wasn't completely brain dead. But why could she not sense any emotions coming from this filly, and why wasn't she breathing?

The filly grabbed a bundle of her pink mane and twisted it around her fetlock. Then she pulled - HARD - A large portion of her mane was ripped from her scalp. Drawing more than a few drops of blood.

"No"

When the filly spoke. It was in a voice more befitting a broken tape recorder than a young mare. Muffed, it was, hidden underneath her flesh - But still unnatural.

With a Twisted emotion. She grabbed her new cheek with her fetlock, and pulled. The wet, tipping sound of tearing flesh filled the tent as skin and fur was torn of her skull like a sticky, leathery mask. Blood flowed from her head as half of her face was ripped off by her own hoof, and thrown away from her.

Madame Macadame stared in absolute horror as half of the face impacted with the wall of the tent and slowly slid down the fabric. The blood red cogs and gears that made up the filly's head had once again became laid bare.

"This is not what I wanted!" The filly shouted "This is not who I am

She pointed at herself with a furry white hoof. Then, she bit her own fetlock. She pulled of the skin like a glove, then spat it away with enough force to impact with the other side of the tent.

"I wanted you to make me a real filly! Not just hide my metallic body under a fleshy sack!"

She tore of the other half of her face

"This is no better then an illusion! I wanted to become a real filly, Not pretend to be one!"

She began to walk towards Madame Macadam.

"STOP!" Madame screamed. The teeth shook in her mouth. And her whole body trembled in a way no medication would be able to fix.

"I can fix this! I can fix this!" She cried. As she threw herself onto the edge of the circle.

A new wave of energy surged through the air. The crystals lit up. This time with restraining magic. Green beams of energy shot out from the crystals and bound the no longer so magic resistant filly in place before she could step outside the center and ruin the circle.

"I am gonna transform you! I AM!" She cried.

She had to transform this little monster. Else physical pain might follow. But where had she gone wrong? What had she missed?
Books and potions circled around her by levitation. Her head was spinning as she tried to review everything at once. In the meantime, the filly screamed. Crying out for her to make her a real filly. Begging her with all of her metallic might.
Madame would not be able to concentrate under this pressure.

No. Screw it. Like one of her masters had taught her. If you fail, you need to return to basis.

The first step of the alchemic process was to break something down - why had not the armor broken down? And why had not the rest of the filly? Where had the fur and skin gotten their raw material from?

An extra aura appeared around her horn as she joined her energies with the circle, She would have to exterminate the filly herself. Get a feel for the elements that made up her.

Once again the filly was covered in green light. Once again it Sipping in to cover every inch of the filly's insides. The skin that had regenerated, and the crystals they had grown from. To her hydraulic muscles and her veins of wires.

But ... where was the insulation?!!?

Where was the rubber and plastic that had covered the filly's cables?

It had broken down. Transmuted. And the energy from their mass had fulled the regrowth of skin an fur.
But why hadn't the rest of the filly?

Well ... If madame Macadame could transmute plastic. She could transmute steel - It was just gonna take some more energy.

A third layer of magic appeared around Madame's horn as she attempted to force the transmutation. The filly skin began to bubble and break down as it reformed again and again. More and more energy was ripped from the regenerate crystals to fuel the regrowth process. And still the metal refused to break down.

"Transform!" Madame ordered as she felt her energy reserves dwindle.

"Transform!"

"TRANSFORM!"

A new wave of energy surged through the air as another pillar rose from the center, Wider and taller than before. It struck the tip of the sealing which was ignited in green flame. Madame was knocked back, and her pony form was knocked right out of her as she reverted back to her basic changeling form.

A horrible metallic scream filled the tent. In the light from the green fire above - Madame saw the regrowing of organic tissue go out of control. Fat, blood and broken muscles was pushed through the cracks in the filly's armor and pouring up her neck. Burying her in biomass.

The filly flailed around, trying to swim in the mess. Ripping the swelling tissue of from her as more sprouted from underneath. she puked blood as a gigantic tongue and swelling gum grew out of her mouth as her solid metallic yaw frantically chewed it off. Cause still her core was as mechanic as ever.

Madam Macadame panicked. She jumped back into her wagon and grabbed every potion she could find related to alchemy. If the filly would not become a pony - then maybe something else.

"Transform!" she shouted as she threw an essence of goat onto the filly. A pillar of green flame rose from the biomass, as it gained the shape of a goat.

The goat exploded and the filly emerged from it.

"TRANSFORM!"

A bottle of cow blood was thrown. A green pillar - and a skinless, lifeless husk of a cow laid on the floor. A cow that gave birth to a mechanical filly, as the metal monstrosity crawled its way out of it.

"TRANSFORM!!!"

The changeling threw every bottle she had. The magical circle when haywire. An explosion of green energy occurred as a pillar as wide as the circle rose from the ground. It shot up threw the roof and far into the sky. The trans-mutative energy swallowed the fabric as the entire tent began to glow with green energy.

Then the sheets turned red.

Then a drop fell upon the changelings muzzle, She starred upwards as she realized her mistake. It wad not been a drop of rain, the roof was still intact. It was just transforming - Morphing into something more ... red.

Another drop ...

And so were the walls - and the supporting pillars.

The changeling barely had time to duck as the cascade of blood came down upon her as the tent collapsed into its new liquid form. There must have been enough to fill a swimming pool, and it was mixed with sludge's of flesh and veins. The changeling managed to buck herself up on her legs, and realized to her horror that she was now standing bare, exposed in the rain. Knee deep in her own disaster.

By some miracle, the wagon had survived un-transmuted. Though blood now covered it, it was quickly being washed away by the rain.
The changeling made her way towards it, she had to get out of here. She had to clean herself off and she had to go before...

A wet splash awoke her from her shock. And she turned to see an even bigger nightmare walking towards her. Covered head to hoof in blood was a skinless, skeletal filly clad in armor, a military helmet was back on her head, and with two big energy cannons sprouted from her back.

Her lidless eyes shone even redder than the blood that dripped from her. Eyes filled with murder as bloody as the field they were standing in, and they were locked straight at the changeling.

Said changeling could almost feel the cross-hair painted on her forehead as the cannons began to charge up. Her knees were to shaky for her to take a single step. Her wings would not carry her, and her stomach felt like it had moved up into her throat. There would be no point in running. Metalhooves little pet project was gonna reduce her and her wagon to aches in a single shot. All she could do was close her eyes, and wait for the end.

But then, the humming of the blasters stopped.

The changeling carefully opened her eyes has she heard the cannon ports on the filly's armor slam shut. The mechanical demon was still standing in front of her. But the fire in her eyes had died out and reverted back to its original green color.

In those artificial eyes, she could see the murderous rage disappearing, giving way to pain, despair, and loss.

A small 'pop' was heard, and oil started leaking out from the corner of the eyes. Black drops fell down through her hollow cheeks and mixed with the red puddle below. Though most of that puddle had been a circus tent, some of it was the filly's own melted flesh. flesh and blood that had come to be as this alchemist had drawn every last ounce of energy out of the regeneratory crystals on the filly's outer frame.

As the heavy rain washed the blood away from the filly's frame, the changeling could see that the red little crystals that were implanted at regular intervals across her mechanical frame had gone dark. The last of the healing magic inside them having been bled out around them.
A dream and a hope that they both had shared was all now mixing with the rainwater.

It was as if the changeling and her wagon had ceased to exist. The filly's eyes grew distant, unfocused. And she slowly walked past Madame Macadame, without so much as giving her a second glance. She walked away from the field, head hanging low and ears flat to her head.

At the edge of the field sat the silhouette of a full grown mare that the changeling had not noticed before. As the filly approached the mare, she rose, soaked head to hoof after having been sitting for how many hours out in the rain, and started following the filly.

Not until both figures had disappeared into the darkness did the changeling's bowels catch up with her.
She rolled over, and puked gallons of bile.

***

It had taken some time for the changeling to recover enough to be able to shapeshift again.
Once she was Madam Macadame again. She packed up her things and headed out of town the opposite way as the mechanical filly had headed. By that point, the rain had almost completely washed away the messy results of her failure. By tomorrow - not a trace would be left, and by then. Madame Macadame would be far away from here.

She left in such a hurry that she hadn't even thought of changing her gypsy dress - that were now becoming soaked with rainwater and torn on the pulling harness of the heavy wagon. With every step, the bells clinked and clanged as he hurried out of the east end of town. She felt tired and empty. All of that emotional energy she had harvested from her last show was gone. It always costed quite a bit of energy to preform her tricks on stage, but she always got plenty more in return - more than enough to sustain her through the next show. Not so this time almost all of her energy reserves had been spent on that failed transmutation. How was she ever gonna be able to pull off another show?

But complaining about the unsure future was something she knew she should count herself lucky to be able to do.

She had never been so sure she was abut to die. The filly's eyes (the only part of her that looked alive) had held nothing but hate and contempt. When Sweetie turned her Master Blasters at her she was sure that she and her wagon would be reduced to dust by those heavy energy canons. All she could do when they powered up was close her eyes. But then they shut down. And the filly gave her noting but a blank, hollow stare. Before she wandering out into the night.

Madame Macadame could not stop thinking about her transmutation. Just what had gone wrong? She had transmuted iron bars and crystals before. (she had been able to transmute a crystal into a organic heart for Chrysalis sake) And she knew all to well what that mechanical filly was composed of. Her chemical structure and composition could not have changed. Could it?

”She ain't made of what I thought she was made off.”

That had to be why the Transmutation had failed. Because she consisted of another material than she originally thought. But how?

As Madame walked past the final road sign , Thanking her for her stay in Ravenloft, she noticed a set of lights coming over the next hill. And the sound of several hooves doing nothing short of galloping along the road, as well as the creaky wheels of a wagon.

Who was crazy enough to drive a stagecoach in this weather? At this hour? Besides a desperate alchemist fleeing a disaster of course.

Madame Machadame held her head low and hoped that the meeting road user would simply drive past her.
She cursed under her breath when the coach slowed down

As they got closer, Madame was surprised to see the pack of ponies coming from the other end of the road. Most of them were not even pulling the wagon. The horns of the two unicorns at the front of the small herd were glowing like flashlights, sweeping the road with blinding strengths before settling on her. She could understand ponies Wanting to make themselves visible in the dark but this was ridiculous. Madame had to lift a hoof to shield her eyes when the equipage stopped right in front of her.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Excuse me." One of the unicorns panted.

The light was dimmed down, and Madame could make out a purple mare in a matching raincoat.

"I need to ask you a question. Have you seen a little filly? You see my friend's sister is lost and its very important that we find her."

The mare was clearly out of breath. Big black bags had formed under her eyes and she clearly struggled to sustain her magic.
The other mare looked even worse. Her white colors were so pale she was almost see through. With desperate eyes that seemed to only receive moisture from the rain. There was something strangely familiar about that pale mare with the ruined purple mane, but madame did not want to put her hoof on what it was. She could already feel her belly turning from the desperation that reeked from this group. Not made easier by the two mares and at least 4 other ponies behind them stood awaiting her response.

The only thing she could do was put on a face - and a facade.

"Em .. the GREAT and Marvelous Madame Macadame have seen many a fillies in her life as a performer, Could you be a little more specific?"

The purple one was about to start making words. But the white one interrupted her

"Oh skip the formalities!" The white mare shouted "Have you seen a little mechanical filly roaming around here!"

Madame swallowed hard. Mechanical fillies?! Who asks about that?! Why oh why did they had to ask about that!?! Why tonight!?
If it had not been raining, they might have seen her sweating bullets trying to contain her bowel movements. and the white mares impertinence were not making it any easier.

"Have you seen anything at all?"

"No?"

"LIES! There was just a giant green pillar rising from over there." She said and pointed back into town.

Another, light blue mare with a drenched gray mane and a weird white jacked pushed her way up to Madame and started sniffing on her.
Then she stared growling.

This was all becoming to much to quickly. She needed to get out NOW!

"Don't you dare accuse the magnificent Madame Macadame of anything ... You have no right to restrain me like this"

"Madame Macadame? That's not the name I remember you by." Somepony said in a hissing voice.

Madame froze. That voice ... No. It could not be!

"Hello Heartache!"

An orange unicorn stepped forth, and the last of Madames resolve collapsed. The mere sight of him made her stomach convulse, and she threw up a sticky yellow slag right at all their hooves. But it was not the fact that this stallion looked like he climbed threw a meat grinder that made her so sick, rather, it was the sickness of nostalgia. The same sickness that had made her throw up so many times already.

"I can see that you recognize me, Heartache." The painstakingly morbid doctor hissed in a snake like fashion.

"How...?" Madame stuttered as she spat out the last pieces of vomit. "How did you recognize me!?”

She had not been in the same form she had worn during the project. She never wanted to wear that form again.

“The pain in your eyes, dear. The same pain you gained when everyone around you started falling to madness ... Myself included.”

"Heartache?" The white mare mumbled. "No ... It cant be ... You look nothing like her."

"Looks can be deceiving" Morbious hissed "Especially for one who changes them all the time."

Speaking of change - Madame thought as she felt another wave of vomit pushing its way up her throat. She now recognized that white mare ... but she was so big now.

"Rarity?! ... By Chrysalis, has it been so long?"

"Change???" The purple one said. "You don't mean - She is a CHANGELING!"

One spell of purple energy washed over her. And suddenly she was not Madame Machadame any more, but her true changeling self.

The flood gates opened, and the second wave shot out of her mouth.

"Of course she has to be... How else to produce the magic we used when designing our subjects emotions" Morbious hissed.

***One explanation and introduction later***

“What do you mean Sweetie's heart contains changeling magic!?" Twilight interrupted.

“After Rarity had given the Sweetie bot its heart, we needed to program emotions. More Specifically, we needed to feed it raw data. Raw emotional energy. From ourselves to begin with. I still remember the screams when we used those electric chairs to copy our emotions onto those blue disks”

He let out a sigh of joy. Ignoring how Rarity twitched when he called Sweetie 'the bot'.

“But later we figured that it wouldn’t be enough. You can after all never tell the whole emotional spectrum when you are only feeling one emotion at a time. You never know in advance how somepony is gonna feel. What aspects of a feeling are gonna come up. Like there are so many different versions of pain – from a papercut - to a severed limb - to a heartbreak. There are so many versions of just the emotional state we call “happy”, and "sad" and so forth. There are just so many versions of emotions, its like a sea of infinite color. And we could not scoop up all the color ourselves. No matter how good our imaginations were, we could simply not imagine every way one can feel.”

“perhaps that is why I never been able to give my mechanical darlings feelings like my own – goddess knows I tried”

He held up his skewered leg.

Twilight snapped him back to him senses

“Focus Morbious! You were talking about the emotional sensor... thingy. Is Sweetie running on borrowed emotions?”

“Not really – at first yes – the sensor crystal would pick up and read emotional energy from every-pony around her. With time these readings would then merge together in the heart where they would eventually form a template based on the entire emotional spectrum – We were basically teaching her how to feel by feeling ourselves. After that it was basicly up to her to chose what emotion she would form – what feeling she would feel - at any given time or situation.”

Twilight stared dumbfolded at the mad professor. He in turn was looking back at her as if daring her to ask: “what kind of feelings do you think I taught her” (one look down on his leg gave her all the answer she never wanted.)

“So... What kind of system guided what emotions she would feel. What she would “choose to feel?”

The professor shrugged.

“That's just it. There was no guide system. After that it was simply up to her own sentient being to decide. But as her brain and heart started to grow enough to form their own code, it was sadly time to pull the plug on the testing”

He said it like it was a bad thing.

“At that point we could only step back and watch what kind of personality she would develop.” Said Macadame.

“And that's when everything started falling apart.” Dr Morbious finished.

“What do you mean. Was there a problem with Sweetie?” Brick asked.

“Yessss... not wit Sweetie herself. But with the project. There was some kind of big fight between the parents and the manager. Next thing you know, there was a big fire, they all went missing and everypony started freaking out. Such pain and loss we felt that day. If only she could have been there to receive it.”

Rarity threw a rock at his head.

“You bastard!”

A smaller fight broke out as the hospital staff once again had to step in between Rarity and the physical harm she intended to inflict upon another pony.

Twilight did not listen to their arguing, she was busy by in her own mental chalkboard, drawing up an image of infant Sweetie and Rarity. She drew a circle and a heart in between them, then she drew lines between Rarity and the heart - filling the heart up with chalk. Then did the same from Sweetie - Filling the circle (Representing a brain transformed to a cybercore) with a different colored chalk.

Then she drew lines from the heart and the circle, she scribbled until the color of the chalks blended into each other - forming a new color completely.

The energy of the heart drive - and the energy of the cybercore - Mixing together. Becoming something new.

It could work. Since both devices were crystal based, their signals could be compatible. At least - the energies of the heart would be absorbed by the cybercore. Thus, all the emotions could be read and understood by the 'brain'.

”... I think I'm onto something here.” She mumbled.

The gears in Twilight's head were turning so hard the others might be able to hear the grinding as she turned to the crowd and spoke.

“You all say that the blue disks - and the artificial crystals they were made from only absorbs energy. What if it does emit energy – magic and emotional energy. Just on a different wavelength that we cant pick up or register?
Someone said that if you create something entirely new – what are you gonna compare it to – something existing of course! What if the only reason no one detected the magical radiation these crystals give off is because they were all comparing it to organic energy?"

"But then? what kind of wavelength would that be?" Nurse Sully asked.

"A MAGICAL wavelength." Brick said in a spooky voice "A magic that only robots can pick up."

Sully might have called him a prick. But Twilight interrupted her.

"Actually, I think you are right..."

Before she could elaborate, Rarity aborted her.

“But Twilight – What would this magical radiation do?” She asked.

The Image of the weird cracks on Sweeties Heart drive flashed before Twilight's eyes.

“Change something – into something else”

Madam Macadame looked up.

"That would explain so much!" She said.

The others looked down on her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Change ... " she mumbled. "She had changed ... She is no longer made of the same stuff as before."

"I know " Dr Morbious hissed "She was able to lift more than her body was ever designed to do simply by increasing her energy input to her pistons - Last time I checked - machines aren't able to push themselves past their hardware limit."

The rest of the group exchanged looks.

"When were you gonna share this information with the rest of us?!" Dr Craniac called out.

"At the tea party." Morbious smiled "Then you jumped me like a far too eager lover."

He looked at Rarity when he said it. But Rarity was too busy staring at the changeling to care about the creepy stallion.

"What do you mean 'changed?'" She asked the changeling. "What did you do?"

The only reason Madame spoke up was that the fashionistas eyes promised something far worse than pain if she didn't.

"Well ... you said you saw a green pillar earlier..."

***Some time earlier***

Further west. A caravan flanked side by side by Steel Stallions stopped dead in its tracks when the tensile Pegasus felt a great distortion in the air. He turned his eyes to the sky to see a giant pillar of green light rise high into the night.

Chapter 23. Burning Bridges

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 24. Hobo Bobo

Round and around Sweetie's world spun.

She swirled around till she lost all orientation.

The current was strong enough to carry her away. To prevent her from sinking. And even if she sunk to the bottom, she continue to roll ahead.

Sweetie made no attempts to stop it. Her body was at the mercy of the river. Not because she was broken. But because she did not feel like going anywhere right now. To be anywhere else right now. She had shut down all her exterior systems. Her Blasters had retracted into her back. and she had curled up into a fetal position. Her legs locked in a position that hugged her little body close. She had even shut down her eyes and ears. She had shut out the river around her, and the world outside it.

She did not want to be part of that world any more. She did not want to be part of a world where everypony hated her. Where the threat of having once memories removed existed, even from her own family. A family she did not dare to go back to as long as such a threat existed.

The spirit -level in her head told her she was still spinning around. It was the one proof that she was still rolling around in the river. That she had not been captured by either side. That she was not about to be dragged away and have her memory wiped. To have her components ripped out of her and replaced. She might hate this body shed been cursed to. But it was still her body. And no pony was gonna tell her what to do with it.

So she let the strong current carry her away. Before anypony could utter that secret phrase that would activate her control program and turn her into an obedient slave. Another threat to her own self, to what free will existed between these interchanging programs that formed up her mind. A threat that seemed like a far greater threat than the sharp rocks along the roaring river. A threat that would be able to do far more harm to her than any shrapnel or jagged rocks could cause.

Broken parts could be repaired. She knew that now. But a memory deleted was a memory gone ... forever.

Perhaps this was for the best. To just let the river carry her away.

Perhaps the stream would lead into an ocean. Where she would presumably sink to the bottom, and get stuck. Buried in mire while the last of her energy reserves slowly drained, and she become a statue in the garden of fishes - never to bee seen again.
Unless Discord came around one day... Then she would tell him all about how it was to be stuck like a statue for a thousand years. If she did not rust first. Or any angry sharks tore her to pieces.

-::No! // Do not want!::-

Her over-imagine imagination woke her from the apathetic depths. What point would there be in escaping the clutches of her family if she was going to choose destruction by slow deterioration?

Her emotional processor and her logic center had a brief fight. Her emotional side not wanting to continue living if she had no family. But the apathy and pointlessness of a loveless existence had left her heart drive weak and uncooperative, So her self preservation programs proved victorious. and the thought of ending up at the bottom of the ocean proved much too frightening.

-:: Rebooting systems // !!WARNING!! // Energy readings unstable // Energy dispersion units unstable // Servos leakage detected // Isolation rubber - Nonexistent. // !!WARNING!! // Insulation module - Nonexistent // Water damage detected. // !!WARNING!! // Repair system unresponsive. // Buffer unresponsive // !!WARNING!! !!WARNING!! !!WARNING!!... ::-

As soon as Sweetie reactivated her body. Everything went haywire.

She was taking in water. Her rubber seals had been transmuted away, and the water interfered with her internal systems. Proving an ever conductive liquid - It made the electricity jumped between her circuity crystals and her exposed wires, And between her cords and her cybernetic components Causing distortions and signal interference all over her body.

Just de-tangling her limbs from her torso proved a challenge. And to swim proved a nightmare. Her entire body spazed out, Her legs flailed around. her ears flapped and even her eyes twitched. Turning off and on as sporadic as the rest of her. The only thing that made her somewhat able to see was the lack of any eyelids to get in her way.

Her blinking eyes could see only water and the derbies she swirled around with. Leaves and branches and garbage and soda cans. To bigger things like planks and logs and splinter.

-:: Deja vu ::-

It must be the remains of the bridge. Even if she hadn't exactly cared about what material the underside of that bridge was constructed of, She got plenty of opportunities to see it up close now that it fought with her for space.

Derbies slammed into her and knocked her of course. Not that she knew where she was going anyway. Or made much progress getting anywhere. The harder she tried to push in one direction the more interference she received. Her limbs wanted to bend in several different directions at once. And her eyes spinning around in their sockets did not make this roller coaster any easier to navigate.

Her flailing did put a stop to her spinning, allowing her some semblance of orientation. she thought she was the bottom, and tried to go in the opposite direction. But The harder she struggled the more severe the spasm became. She had to try the opposite tactic.

She shut down most of her body and only focused on controlling one limb at a time. And sent her energy only through her foreleg. Carefully to keep the energy inside the circuits and only just enough as to do the most basic function of garbing onto the log floating beside her. It almost didn't work since the command inputs became scrambled in the water. Controlling the energy flow was like trying to hold onto grease. Constantly slippery and threatening to sip out to other systems through the water. Even her best efforts still left the leg shaking in spasms, almost beyond control. But she managed to do it.

When her fetlock seized around the log she immediately locked her pistons in position and shut down the limb. And she repeated the process with her other limbs.

With a grip around the log she got some semblance of a foundation of up and down. Her spinning spirit-leveler stopped and she began the slow and bothersome climb through the water on the debris.

Somehow she managed to break the water surface. She tried to call for help but her voicebox was playing tricks on her and only gave out a static stuttering.

It was the river run with Jr Branch all over again. Except this time she had only herself to save. And that was a hundred times more difficult with a body that would not cooperate. And there would be no pony to save her.

The canyon had fanned out. The river was no longer surrounded by steep, rocky walls as tall as buildings. But by bare and slated dunes. The river had also gotten wider and somewhat calmer. The shore seemed so close now. But Swimming there was out of the question. The current was still to strong. And preforming more than one action at ones (even just trying to move two limbs at once) was enough to make hes spasm out uncontrollably. She did not know if she would be able to multitask such fine control of her energy for more than one limb. Besides - the armor was to heavy to swim in. She would only sink like a rock.

But maybe - She could paddle her way there?

Clinging onto the log, she reached out only one spasming limb to paddle herself into shore. But The river was not done playing tricks. A bridge appeared ahead of her. A big red bridge, built upon several pillars off rock holding up its length across the wide river. Her improvised raft slammed right into one of those pillars, crunching her leg in the sandwich of rock and wood, and sent her tumbling out of control. By the time she regained her bearings, she was back in the water and sinking again.

As she hit the bottom. She noticed the river was not carrying her forward with the same momentum as before. And since she was not tumbling around, she was able to get her legs under her. Using only the barest of minimum of energy. She managed to push herself forward using only one hoof. Like this. She would be able to pull herself through the water and onto the shore. Maybe she could reach one of those pillars and climb up? Provided they were not too sleek. Provided she did not loose the momentum of the river. Provided her energy did not run out first.

-:: Silly Sweetie. Why didn't you think of this before? ::-

Then, suddenly, something wide and plaid towards her came. Or rather - She came to it.

Trying to brace herself for impact only made her spasm out again. And she found herself pressed up against a net of some kind. Her twitching eyes notices the pillars of rock to her sides. She must still be under the bridge. She had not Idea what a net would be doing here. But at least it had saved her from being thrown out into the ocean.

Moving only one limb at once. She slowly started to pull her twitching, uncooperative body up towards the surface.

But her climbing got an unexpected aid, as the bottom part of the net was suddenly hauled upwards. The whole thing was folded around her like a sack, and she was hauled onto shore.

***

It took several minutes for her systems to stop interfering with each other. Sweetie had to carefully shut down every system and then restarted them one by one until she was able to come too.

The first thing that hit Sweeties rebooting ears was the sound of the river. Just barely audibly over the sound of static plaguing her moist microphones. It was close by - yet distant enough for her not to be lying amongst its waves. That was good - Being out of the water was really good. It had made her feel funny to say the least. Anny longer in it and she might have short circuit completely.

There was also the sparkling sound of a fire somewhere nearby. And a fire was the first thing that greeted her visual lenses as she rebooted them. A magical fire that shifted colors from all over the rainbow, and even sometimes went black and white.

No. Wait. That wasn't the fire. that was her damp visual lenses going in and out of focus.

She had expected to find a plaid net covered her vision. Not to be greeted by a small campfire.

Should the fire have scared her? She did not know. Her emotional processor did not pick up any trauma induced phobia coming from her heart drive. Fear was something it no longer had the strength to produce. And now that she was free of the harmful water, this little campfire didn't seem scary at all.

Sweetie lay on her side, the water still pouting out of her armor. And just stared into the dancing flames. A random memory was triggered - Of hearts warming eves of winters past, with the whole family gathered around the fireplace. Back in happier times. Before her world fell apart.

It seemed she would be missing out on hearts warming eve this year.

The thought did not make her feel particular angry, or sad. Just ... empty. And that emptiness weighed down on her. Made her just want to lay there and not do anything.

The memories continued to pass before her until she got to her most recent event. It was a hazy collection of fragments, as distorted as her systems had been. She remembered her fight in the river. Then a log. A bridge. Then a net. And now this.

What happened in between? How did she get here? Bad her mind been so full of water that she'd been unable not store additional memories? She didn't seem to have shut down. Not entirely. She could remember her visual lenses becoming so full of static that she had to shut them off.

The colors was beginning to come in clearer as her visual lenses dried up. But there was still some static left. The fire now 'only' danced in shades of red and blue. And a figure appeared to be standing over her. Was he really there? Or was she hallucinating?

"Now ... Lets see how you are coming to".

Her microphones picking up the sound of a voice. Was it male of female? It seemed a little to deep to be female. But it was hard to tell with a tinnitus like an audio feedback.

-:: Processing ... Processing ... ::-

-:: Somepony was standing over her // Somepony who must have taken her out of the net while she was rebooting ::-

-:: Somepony she did not know ::-

-:: STRANGER DANGER // STRANGER DANGER ::-

Energy shot out into her limbs as instinct took over. Since her legs where no longer restrained by a net, they complied with her emergency sequence. The Master Blasters came out as she jumped up into standing position. and locked onto her target, ready to fight for her life.

The shadow recoiled. It was some kind of pony, but the figure was so hazy it was hard to tell. Her targeting systems refused to lock on properly. Like the pony wasn't even there Was it a shadow pony? A ghost pony. Or the grim reaper coming to harvest her?

No. It was just her systems playing tricks on her. Her infrared vision would not activate. Her blasters did not charge up properly.

"Easy now." Said the shadow. "You should not push yourself too hard little miss. You only just came too."

What did he call her?

"Stay ... Stay back" Sweetie warned. Water falling from her mouth as her yaw flapped around, without any connection to the words being spoken. Celestia - Had her voice always sounded this bad? Or was it just the static in her ears?

"Okay little one. We'll take it slow. Why don't we sit down and dry ourselves off?"

-:: Control program awaiting verbal command ::-

-:: No - You're not the boss of me ::-

Sweetie tried to walk away. But ended up falling face first into the ground as her legs tried to go in opposite directions.

“Maybe you should just stay and rest a little.”

“I don't need to rest.”

“That doesn't mean you shouldn't stay and dry yourself a little. No need to be running of when you run the risk of collapsing.”

As much as she hated to admit it he was right. Her insides were still damp. Her systems still playing tricks on her. She needed to dry up or she was probably gonna start to rust from the inside out.

She pulled herself up against a concrete wall of some kind, And laid down, her blasters almost sinking to the floor beside her, still inactive.

She decided it was best to let her systems run on minimum capacity to lower the chance of a short circuit. It was probably fitting. For regardless of how much energy was left in her battery, she felt like If she still had a biological shell, she would have been exhausted past death three times over.

The stranger moved to sit with his back towards the river, And started tending to his broken net.

Between them was the fireplace with quite a large fire burning. It was relatively wind-still so it held no threat of going out. Yet it was not the only source of illumination, Sweetie noticed, as her vision began to come too. Around the fireplace, several touches had been set up. Lighting up the little campsite in an orange glow. a glow that was intensified by the grains of sand that covered the area. Like an orange beach of dry sand. Dry - since no rain had fallen upon it.

Sweetie had sunk down against the supporting pillar that formed their rooms only wall. Above them, the red bridge stretched out across the dark river past a rock formation that held up its center, and beyond. Lanterns were hanging down from the roof that was the bridge above them. Suspended by a rope that went around the supporting beams and down into a hook in the ground. There were one row of lanterns on each side of the bridge, running down its length at regular intervals. There was a rope bridge leading out to- and around the central pillar, where even more ropes were tied into hooks hammered into the rock. If Sweetie had to guess, this stallion probably reeled the lanterns down every time he lit them. Maybe it was his job or something?

A look around the place revealed his workplace.
He had a makeshift tent sett up against the wall she was now occupying. Inside she could see a couple of dirty blankets. He also had a small wagon on which every wheel looked like it came from a different vehicle. Whatever was loaded onto the cart was covered by a plastic sheet.
And behind it was a large pile of junk behind the tent. A little to organized to just having been dumped there at random.

"Do you want a blanket? " The stranger said. "It can get awfully cold this time of year."

"I ... I don't feel cold" Sweetie stuttered.

"A towel then, perhaps? You are still soaking wet. It could help you dry up a little faster."

He was not kidding. The sand beneath Sweetie was already getting dark and moist like clay. Water was still tripping from her undersides.
The stranger was kind enough to give her a towel. An old green blanket that she wrapped around her. She retracted her blasters and, after wiping herself dry, she moved a little closer to the fire.

The stranger returned to his tiny stool. And resumed tendering his fishing net. At least she guessed it was for caching fish.
What else was if for?
Celestia - Was she always this slow? - Or was her brain still moist?

She reached up to remove the helmet, so her head could dry a little faster. But her hoof found itself grabbing for nothing.

-:: Gone ... ::-

She must have lost it to the river. But the feeling of loss would not appear. Or perhaps it was buried under all the other layers of loss. Either way she did not even pull a metaphorical sigh for her helmet. She just brought the blanket over her head and started scrubbing her scalp dry.

That's when she found that her mane of copper saw till somehow attached to her. Hanging like a ponytail from the socket screwed into her neck. The wires became quite frizzled up by her whipping. But she did not care.

Sweetie pulled the blanket closer around her. For some reason it felt like the right thing to do. Maybe because it shielded her hideous appearance from the rest of the world. From this stranger in front of her. Not that he seemed all that interested her anyway. He seemed far more interested in tending to his net than her. Of course - she was only a walking talking machine - what was so special about that?
And what was so special abut that net?

-:: Ponies don't eat fish ::-

“Why the net?” She asked.

"To catch things drifting in the river." He answered. "That way you don't have to go scavenging every day. And I'm making my part keeping this great nation clean."

So she had him to thank for not ending being swept out to the ocean. And it explained the organized pile of junk. It must be all the stuff he had pulled out of the river using his net. Sweetie could Not believe somepony could litter Equestria so much.

"You won't believe what people trow away." He continued "Even though there are filters set up to catch the trash that drunkards drop in the river, there is always something that slip through the cracks into the smaller rivers. Meaning there is always some good stuff you can pull up and trade for.”

-:: “Good stuff?" ::-

“Then why did you catch me?” Sweetie asked.

Did he plan on selling her on a traders exchange or something? She had no desire to be sold on a hobos traders exchange. And who would by her anyway? And why? What was she good for - Other than as a punching bag? Maybe some traveling circus would show up.
She could - Unfortunately - picture herself as a freak-show carnival attraction.

“Pay one bit to toss the ball at the bot." Said her imaginary circus owner. "Hit the target to make her fall into the water – She spasms so funny when she does. Pay two bits to beat the bot like a pinata. There might be candy inside. Not a soul though. It has no soul.”

“You should have let me wash away.“

“Why?”

“I'm worthless. I'm nothing to have.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Look at me! I'm awful and broken and dirty. I don't have a straw left on my body!"

“Do you judge me by my looks?” He asked with a smile.

Sweetie didn't know how to answer that.

-:: Judging appearance // Scanning …. scanning... ::-

He was a dark brown earth pony with darker, almost black hooves. Though the blackness could have been dirt, even oil of some kind, judging by the scrap he had acquired.
An orange, tousled and unkempt mane stuck out from under a rugged cap, And a short tail of equal color and mess stuck out from one of many holes in a coat that was so dirty she could not tell if brown was its original color or just the dirt stuck to it. Several orange straws also covered his unshaven face with a short beard as Tousled and ragged as the rest of him.
Sweetie had no idea so short hair could be so tousled. He probably never combed, just cut it of by knife when it became to troublesome. At that moment she was actually glad she did not have any hair – she dreaded how that would look by now.

The pieces all fell into place. The old tent, was his home. And the mismatched wagon must contain his entire belongings. And the big dumpster pile was probably junk he scavenged through every day.

“You are a hobo.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I see you can tell a lot from my appearance.” He said with a chuckle. Exposing a smile that surprisingly did not host the worst teeth Sweetie had ever seen. That prize still went to the Doctor of pain.

“What about yourself little miss? The hobo asked "You look like you have been through Tartarus and back.”

-:: You have no idea ::-

"I'm surprised you don't think I'm from Tartarus."

"Sounds like quite the story there." The stallion said with some concern. "Do you ... Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you just gonna sit there and sulk?"

"Yes"

"Well, Aren't you the cheeriest little ray of sunshine." He said.

The Irony was not appreciated.

"Do you have a name, little miss?"

Sweetie almost wanted to say no.

"S... Sweetie. just Sweetie."

"Well... That's good enough."

"But what about your name?" Sweetie asked.

"You can call me Hobo Bobo, like all of my friends do."

A giggle actually escaped Sweeties static voice as she said the name out loud.

Hobo bobo. It sounded like "Hobobobobo" when she tried to say it on her stuttering voicebox.

”Was that a laugh?" Bobo smiled "There's hope everypony – there's hope!”

”Not for me". Said Sweetie. ”I'm worthless. I'm not a good toy. I'm not even a good deathbot."

"Deathbot?” He said, more with surprise than with concern. “Do you want to harm others?”

“No. I just want others to leave me alone.”

”About that. Do you always greet strangers with a weapon to their face?”

Sweetie jerked her shoulders.

“I just thought that... if I cant teach the world to love me ill teach it to fear me instead.”

“Do you want to be feared?” Bobo asked.

“It doesn't matter what I want. Every pony hates me regardless. ”

“I don't hate you.”

Sweetie gave him a blank stare. How was she suppose to believe that? How was she to know he would not descend on her given the chance. The only reason she stayed here was because she needed to dry up.

“Would you have shot me?” He asked.

Sweetie did not know. But she did not think so.
Coming to think about it she had never been able to “pull the trigger” and fire her weapons on another pony. Something had stopped her every time. Not even Necro, Or the Mad Marrow, who had both tried to kill her, had she been able to putt down. Despite having a clear line of sight, and plenty of opportunities.

Why? Why could she not pull the trigger on another pony?
Was it some other kind of restriction that forbade her to harm another?
Some part of her programming that forced her to be a good little filly?

Sweetie would have let out a long sigh. She could only feel pathetic.
She was not a real filly. She was even worse as a sister. And on top off all she was a bad robot.
She could not be a toy. She was worthless as a deathbot that couldn't shoot at another even in self defense. She could not even a waitress at a robot run restaurant. On top of that, she had a broken system that refused to accept that she was a robot, and the inner conflicts threatened to drive her mad.

Nothing beside the river and the fire made a noise as Sweetie sank deeper into her sulk. Completely forgetting about the stallions question. Until he, himself broke the silence.

“If We are no longer talking about the exterior. Why do you think you are useless?”

“I cant defend myself." Sweetie answered "I can't shoot at anypony. Not even In self defense.”

“It sounds like you got a consciousness.”

“Consciousness? Don't you have to be conscious yo have a consciousness?”

Hobo Bobo laughed.

“You are awake are you not? That means you are conscious ”

He raised his hooves defensively when Sweetie did not share in his laughter

"Bad joke, I know." He said. "So, Lets get serious again. If that's what you relay want. Mind telling me why you are really armed?"

“Because I don't want people to hurt me.” She said. “Lately people have done nothing but hurt me. I figured if I threatened to hurt them, then they would stop. But I couldn't. I have... Restrictions that prevents me from doing things like that.”

“We all have our restraint's that prevent us from doing horrible things.” He sighed, and looked down into the dirt. “Mine prevents me from going back to where I came from.”

“I have nothing to go back to” said Sweetie.

“what makes you say that. You must have come from somewhere. So there must be a road behind you, leading back.”

“Not for me... I burned that bridge.”

They both looked upstream. None said anything. But presumably they thought the same thing.

Finally Hobo Bobo took the word.

“Even if you burn a bridge or two the place from which you came still remains. If you just retrace your steps you will find your way back.”

“I don't know where I come from. I don't know where I was made.” Sweetie said.

“Then tell me where you have been. You cant tell me you have been roaming the countryside all your life.”

The stallions sincerity was a bit off putting to Sweetie. He clearly wanted to share stories. The way he tried to get sweetie to talk, (even if it was just a few words he fished out of her.) And was trying to make her question him about his origins. Sweetie could not blame him. Having no-pony or no-thing else to talk to must make one eager to talk to pass the time.

Thou she didn't know why she started telling her story.

“I come from a little town named Ponyville. And .. While I lived there I thought I was a little filly. But it was a lie. Then everypony else found out it was a lie. That I had … machine parts underneath my skin instead of organs. Oil and wires instead of flesh and blood. And they all started looking at me like I wasn't a pony any more. …. Because I wasn't. I was a robot. And they ... my friends started acting like I had lied to them. Despite that I told them that I did not know. And then they ... she said they could not like me because I was a robot. She said I had ... stolen her family. Because she is an orphan ... And somepony had ... Made me... Instead of adopting."

-:: Lubrication lines ruptured ::-
-:: Rebooting Body functions processor ::-
-:: Shivering sequence initiated ::-

Sweetie pulled the borrowed blanket closer as small dots began to fall upon the fabric. Her whole body began to shake. She did not know what part of her had reactivated he BFP, or if she had done it intentionally. She could feel the emptiness inside her slowly filling up with tears waiting to be shed in the form of oil. And her systems responded to those emotions as they were programmed to do. She had no Idea that just telling somepony any of this would stir up so much.

The rest of the story sounded pretty incoherent in her own ears. As she mumbled random words in between heavy sobs, trying to retell how she got lost in the forest and wandered from one tragic event to another.
Somehow - It was the first part of her story - with Scootaloo, that felt the worst. Maybe because she did not know the others she had met, and could therefore not be disappointed by their behavior. Scare her, they could, make her sad and angry, they could. But none could hurt her like a friend turning on her.

All the while Hobo Bobo just listened. Never aborting or interrupting. Neither seeming surprise or disbelief at what she tried to say. And Sweetie did not stop talking. The words just flowed out of her like the oily tears that fell from her eyes.

When she was finished, the blanket was stained black, and the flow to her lubrication lines were cut off.

When Bobo finally took the word. He spoke with a mature and understanding voice.

“So you ran away from home.” He said “A lot of kids run away from home after they receive some terrible news. Like they try to outrun the news themselves. I knew a colt once, that ran away from home. He just had the biggest argument with his parents. They where moving out of town. And he was gonna have to leave all his friends behind. Naturally he did not want to move. But no matter how much he told his parents so, they did not change their minds. So he ran away. Convinced his parents hated him. He managed to get himself lost in the woods. He was lost and lonely and thought noting was going to be good ever again. That he was doomed to be lonely for the rest of his life.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” sweetie hiccuped.

“Of course I know him. It was me.”

Sweetie gasped.

“Have you been running away from home since you were a little colt!?”

Hobo Bobo chuckled.

“No, no! I managed to find my way out of that forest, found some farmers who took me in and helped me on my way back to my family again. And everything became good again. Because being separated reminded us of how much we loved each other. O sure things still changed. We still moved to a new big town. But it all worked out in the end. I made new friends. And life moved on.”

Then he gave the longest sigh and looked out into the rain.

“No. what I'm running away from now is something worse. Much worse...”

Hobo Bobo pulled out a bottle from the cart. He took a sweep, and then held the bottle out to Sweetie.

Sweetie stared at the bottle with discontent.

“Don't worry. Its not alcohol. Its apple juice.”

“I can't feel any taste.”

“Doesn't mean you don't need a little refill every now and then.” He said, shaking the bottle invitingly.

-:: Just do as he says and he'll stop ::-
-:: Maybe I'll be able to extract some energy out of those apples it's made of ::-

Sweetie took the bottle and poured the apple juice into her mouth. An old memory told her what apple juice was suppose to taste like. She replayed it over her taste sensors. Through the memory she could feel the apple juice role over her tongue. It was probably a good thing she was reliving a memory since this juice was probably old and foul.

Really, really foul. Because for some reason she felt her insides going static again.

-:: !Warning! // Leakage detected ::-

She removed the blanket and looked down on herself. What Madam Macadame's magic had transmuted into a polished showpiece had once more been covered with scrapes and burns. And the scars were encapsulated by the stain of a yellow liquid leaking out of her.

She poured the rest of the content from the bottle in the sand in front of her. The color was identical.
One swift internal check confirmed her suspicion.

“My belly is broken” She sighed. “Everything on me is broken.”

She was not a pretty sight. Despite the run through the river there was soot clinging to every one of her armored plates. The plates themselves where all dented or scraped where debris had slammed into her. Her right leg-plate had gotten particularly bent. Shrapnel had showered her body when the explosion through her of the bridge. Some of it must have gotten through the armor and pierced right through her stomach. Who knows in who many other places she had been breached? Or who much was now stuck in her gears.

What little energy remained in her repair crystals prioritized things vital to her functioning. Mainly straightening out any short circuits in her soaked circuits, Sustain and maintain functioning of her Battery processors and wires and other things like system connection. Then came mobility and sight. Long story short: her broken interior where prioritized over her broken exertion.
And Since she did not need to eat or drink her artificial belly was low on the list.

-:: Doesn't matter. I'll just install a cord and load up by sticking it I an outlet. Either that or I just stick my tongue on a hot wire again. Because that had worked so well last time ::-

She threw the bottle onto the big pile of junk, and then sank down to sulk in silence again. Barely taking note of that her front leg was working properly again.

Bobo would however not let her have the silence.

“I wish I didn't have to drink or eat." He said. "It would make life easier for me. Not having to go through the garbage cans every day.”

“You would not say that if you were never able to taste anything again.” Sweetie answered. Just the thought of food made her want to initiate cry sequence. She scarcely wanted to remember that the last thing she had tasted was lightning.

“O I'm sure being a living machine isn’t all that bad. You don't feel the cold of the air or the rain or the water."

-:: Nor the heat of the sun // Nor the touch of grass // Not the feeling of a hug ::-

Clearly this stallion had no idea of what he be giving up.

“And I bet it be great to never have to feel tired. Just think to be able to stay up all night and never have to go to sleep in that filthy rug.”

What was this guy? Simple?

“Don't Say that!" Sweetie shouted. !You have no idea what its like! You have no sense of touch no sense of taste. Your mind is made up of weird programs Your body is made up of gears. And you have no soul! And the worst part about it is that every-pony will hate you for it."

“I don't hate you." Bobo answered calmly, mostly unfazed by her outburst " And I'm sure the kids back home don't either.”

“Yes they do! When they told me I wasn't a pony! And that .... really hurt. You get it! They hurt me!”

Hobo Bobo sat quiet for a moment.

“Tell me. If you had a friend. Whom you knew all your life. And then, one day, you found out that he or she was a robot. How would you react?”

Sweetie thought back. Most of the colts and fillies back home had been curious and asked her a lot of questions that she was not ready to answer. Maybe they had meant no harm. But it still hurt. And what Scootaloo said hurt even worse. And what Rarity had done had hurt most of all.

But all that was in the past now. A past she had severed all connections with. At least she thought she had. For she felt nothing spilling the beans to this stranger. Nothing but hollow.

“If you went back. Knowing what you know now. Would you react the same.?”

“I don't know. Maybe... "

Hobo Bobo finished knighting his net back together. He put it aside and took out a cooking pot from his wagon, put it on the fire and scraped out the content of two half empty tin cans with an old spoon into it.
Then he sat back and rubbed his hooves in front of the fire.

“I'm sorry.”

Sweetie looked up.

“For what?”

"For calling you a robot. I didn’t realize how much that hurt you."

“But I am one.”

“Truth of that aside. You said that it hurt when the others called you a robot. And you are right. It must have been harder than I can ever imagine. “

He let out a sigh.

“I don't even think robot is the right word to describe you. We all just choose that term because we have nothing else to compare with.
But you sure don't like that term yourself. You don't like the nicknames others have given you. I can understand that. I would not like it if someone called me a soulless automation either. In fact I would want to prove those people wrong. And I think you do to. You are looking for yourself. Trying to find out what you really are. An answer you can be satisfied with."

He looked deep into her eyes, and smiled.

"Many might look at you and see only cogwheels and bolts. And think of you as a machine. But you want to believe there is more to you than that. You strive to become something... That's admirable.”

“But I can't be striving for anything.” Said Sweetie “Not on my own. That would just be something somepony else have put in my head. All my ideas and dreams are just something somepony else have put I my head.”

“How do you know that?” Said Bobo.

“Because I have been programmed”

“Who cares what you are programmed to do. If somepony programmed you to jump of a bridge would you do it?”

“I have already jumped of a bridge”

“Why. Did somepony “program” you to do that?”

“No. I did it myself. To get away … From those who might program me.”

Sweetie looked up. There was a contradiction here.

“See! You made a choice for yourself.”

“NO I didn’t. They blew up that bridge. Because I didn't want to come with them... "

Sweetie struggled with the words.

"Because...I didn't want them to program, or reprogram me..."

After a few laps around this verbal carousel. she realized that this had become a circular conversation.

“And you didn't want that.” Bobo kept on asking.

It doesn’t matter what I want! I cant want anything!”

“Says who! Right now its no one but yourself! You gotta stop thinking about what others tell you that you cant and cant do and choose for yourself. Can you do that?!"

“I don't KNOW! Cant you just leave me alone!" Sweetie screamed. Why couldn't this guy let her mope in peace?

“Then answer me this! Are you programmed to feel miserable?”

Sweetie froze. The answer to that was a simple.

-:: No ::-

“N... no. But ... Then... Why am I so miserable?”

Hobo Bobo sank back onto his seat.

“Why wouldn’t you. Given everything you have been through? You might have discovered something about yourself that make you feel strange or different. And it can take its time getting used to."

He sighed and diverted his eyes.

“We all loose ourselves sometimes. Sometimes we don't know who we are ore what we are gonna be."

“I'll never know what I'm gonna be... I can't get a mark.” Sweetie said. The words stung.

“Getting a mark does not mean things will turn out for the best. Just look at me. I thought I had it all laid out before me. But in the end I didn't want to do the things I ended up doing.”

Sweetie locked up on the hobo. This time in confusion.

”You didn’t wanna do what your mark was telling you?”

Bobo sighted.

”Not the way i ended up doing it”

"What ... did you do?" Sweetie asked.

“Something terrible. And I was to ashamed over what I've done to get back to my life again.”

Bobo sighted deeply and hung his head over the stew, which had begun to boil. The smile had vanished from his face. In his eyes there were instead something dark. Sweetie could not help but to think that he looked similar to Rarity in that moment. So sad, and full of regret.

As Bobo went to fish out a plate from his cart, Sweetie wondered how rarity must have been feeling. Sweetie herself didn't dare to go back to to her own life with her sister, because of the dark and terrible things she had done. She had not considered how her sister might have felt. Did she regret what she had done?

-:: New emotion detected // Emotional analyzing process in progress // Analyze complete: Guilt ::-

”But that's my loss. He said "Just because i stopped looking for my purpose in life doesn’t mean you have to stop looking for yours.”

He stretched his neck and looked out into the dark.

“Look” he said. “It's snowing”

Sweetie Turned her head. True enough, the rain had subsided, and been replaced by little flakes of snow.

“And so the last of Autumn has fallen and its time to welcome winter." Hobo Bobo started chanting "Its a cold time of year so its extra important to keep warm. That's what hearts warming eve it there to remind us of. To keep warm even in the coldest of times.”

“I don't need to keep warm. I cant feel the cold.” Sweetie said. Letting the blanket fall to the ground. The interference had stopped. meaning she must be dry on the insides.

“O, but its not just by the clothes on our bodies. But by the fire in our hearts as well.” Bobo said as he pulled his jacket tighter.

“Tell me. What keeps your heart warm?”

“I don't have a heart.”

“You don't?”

“Not a real one any way. Its just a fake processor.”

“The processor is fake?”

Was this guy trying to make her laugh?

“I mean its a real processor, but my feelings aren’t real. They are just artificial Emotions doesn’t even come from the heart anyway. They form in the brain-processor. The heart is really just a muscle that pumps blood. So how is a fire gonna burn in there anyway?”

Hobo Bobo smiled.

“Everyone had a fire burning in their heart. A fire lit and kept alive by our hopes and dreams, by our desires and the feelings we have for one another. You might not be bothered by the cold of weather. But you must have something or some pony you care for. Didn't you say you have a family? tell me about them.”

Sweeties head sank.

“Them... I don't love them.”

“Why not.”

“Because I can't love. Not really. I don't know what real love feels like. Its just something I'm programmed to think I have.”

“Who in Equestria have said that?”

“Everypony! They all said that because I'm a robot, I cant know what real feelings are. They say I have no soul!"

Bobo sat quiet for a moment. Then he asked her something.

“And do you?”

Sweetie didn't know how to answer that. “I don't know... But I can't have one. I'm not real.

“You are real. You are sitting here after all”.

“BUT I AM NOT A REAL LITTLE FILLY!” She screamed. “I'M A ROBOT WHO THOUGHT I WAS A FILLY! I don't want to be a robot. I'm not programmed to be a robot. I'm programmed to be a little filly. But I am not a filly. I'm a robot. And... and I can't change that.
And believe me. I tried!”

She sank down again.

“I can't change anything. I can't do anything... I'm worthless...”

-:: Initiate cry sequence // !Warning! // Tear sacks not found // !Warning! // Pressure on lubrication line increasing // !Warning! // lubrication line still ruptured // !Warning! // No material found in buffer // !Warning! // Risk of second rupture increasing // Release 'floodgates' - Y/N? ::-

“Its true that we might not be able to change what we are." Bobo sighed. "But that doesn’t mean we cant change who we are. If you can choose for yourself, then you must be able to choose whom you love? am I right?”

“What does it matter whom I choose if I can't love them for real?” Sweetie sobbed.

“Who's to says that what you feel ain't real for you?. After all. Only you know how you feel. I don't know how you feel and truth is you might not be feeling the same things as I do. No pony does feel exactly the same about anything. But if that's how you feel then that's how you feel. So tell me... How do you feel?”

How did she feel?
She felt weird. Was she suddenly not allowed to feel sorry for herself anymore? Then again. Did she want to feel sorry? She could find no programming or setting telling her she had to feel sorry. But if she did not want to feel bad, why did she constantly do that? Why could she not turn that of like all the other things? Because of her heart drive. All her emotions came as they pleased from the deeps of her heart drive. And she still didn't have control over that.

How far had she gotten to cracking that elusive component anyway? Had the 'heartbreaker' program remained active throughout everything?

-:: Internal systems check // 'Heartbreaker' program still active ::-

-:: Heart-Drive integrity :: 9 percent remaining ::-

Sweetie would have gasped. NINE PERCENT! Where had that nosedive come from?! Furthermore - where had she gotten the energy to preform such a feat. Her last system check had said that she would still require several recharges before breaking her heart - drive.
Now ... now it was within reach. Something she would be able to acquire on the energy she had left.

Should she be feeling joy about this? That soon she would be able to control her emotions, and then she would be able to not feel bad anymore. Then she would be able to process any emotions she wanted.

But joy would not appear on her Emotional Processor's radar. For if she processes whatever emotions she wanted. Would they not be as fake - or even more fake than as they were now? Would it not be like she put a charm spell on herself? Or like downing a big potion of magical feel-good juice prescribed by a psychiatrist?

Real - Not real. what was the difference anymore?

The words “If we create something entirely new. What are we going to compare it to” played in her mind.

Her emotions might be strings of code and electricity. As such - She might not be feeling like other pony's. But that did not mean she did not feel anything. Even if it made her think of herself as an alien.

But then again, how does one compare one's self to others? Does not everypony have their own unique set of emotions?

She looked up at the stallion in front of her. He who was constantly trying to make her see the positive. How could he be so optimistic when he lived in a dump under a bridge? What did he have to be so happy about? Was he glad just to be alive?

That made her reflect on her situation. She had been miserable for some time. How long was hard to say without the cycle of day and night to go by. A few days - about a week - Maybe more. This stallion had been miserable for years it seamed.

Again that feeling of guilt was registered in her EP. Had she really been thinking there was no pony in the world as miserable as her?

She briefly wised she could tap into that changeling devise she thought she had in her body. to see if she could registered and copy any genuine happiness coming from him.

She wished she could feed om some happiness right now. To fill the void that had formed in her heart. But even if she could absorb that energy, it would be worthless to her. Nothing more than a copy. Data for her processor. She had no way of actually taking the emotions of another. No matter how much she wished some pony would just switch heart drives with her.

“Still pondering?”

His question yanked her up from her thoughts. She realized that Bobo was still awaiting an answer.

“I don't know." She replied.

That somehow made him smile even more.

“If you don't have some-one to live for, then you must have some-thing. Something that sets your heart ablaze.
There is allays something to live for. Something to strive for. Something that gives us purpose. Sometimes the purpose is to find that purpose. For without purpose, we are lost.”

Sweetie did feel pretty lost.

"But then ... If your purpose is to search. what happends when you find something?"

"Well - then you stick by it. And if you don't like it, or grow bored, you can always look for something else."

"But ... what if your only reason to be ... It to live." Sweetie said. "what if you have no reason to be besides living?"

“Living is good." Said Bobo. "But, true. life without a purpose can be boring, and hollow.”

Lost. Hollow. That was how Sweetie felt now. That's what she was right now.

“Then ... if I have nothing to live for.... then I might as well be dead.” Sweetie said.

Hobo Bobo became serious.

“You are not dead, and I do not believe you seek death. You where flailing in the river. You wanted to live. Even if you think you have lost everything I do not think you want to loose your life. So don´t tell me you don't have something to live for. That has to be the greatest insult to those that gave you life!"

Sweetie felt like she was sinking through the ground.

“No... I don't want to die....”

-:: Initiate cry sequence // !Warning! // Tear sacs not found ... ::-

“...But I don't know what I seek. I don't have a purpose. I was never programmed for anything.”

“That sounds like a very good thing." Bobo said, the smile returning to his face. "If no pony has told you what to do, then you are able to pursue your own destiny.”

Destiny. Purpose. A Mark. These where the things she had been pursuing with the CMC for a long time to no results. The things she was now convinced she did not have or could not get.

“So tell me. What do you seek? Maybe i can help?”

Sweetie wished she could take a long sigh.

What was she looking for? Curiosity seemed to be her main drive force. A hunger for knowledge, a craving for information which to expand her programming with.

Her “To Do List” flickered into her vision. Where she had put in the long term goal of finding new parts to restore herself with. Along with them was the route she had downloaded from the Rarity Replicate. Backtracked to its origin point. A small glimmer of hope for some answers. It had seemed like the right thing to do then. But that road had only led to misery.
But what else did she have?

“I'm looking for answers. To why I was made. And to why I was made to forget why I am the way i am.”

No. Insisted her Heart-Drive. That wasn't the only thing she wanted.

“I seek … I want to find a place where every-pony does not look at me like I'm a toy or a robot. A place where ponies don't want to hurt me. I want to find a place where I be loved. But first.... I must find out if I really can love. On my own. Not the kind of love that others have programmed me to feel towards others! And that is why I must find the place I was made, and ask them if they can remove all those things that would force me to be like others want me to be."

Bobo tilted his head.

"What to you mean? Is something forcing you to be something you are not?"

-:: Control program awaiting verbal command ::-

"Everypony I've met have said they have something to do with me. They built me and programmed me. But no one of them have said that I was alive, or that I could love. They said i Was just a machine and that all my emotions where all play pretend.

“You mean artificial?”

"Yes. That I was just being the way I was because they made me the way I was."

“And you don't want that to be the truth.”

“No... they where horrible and wanted horrible things from me. But the truth is that they made me into what I am. And if they are horrible. Does that not mean that I am horrible too?”

-:: Crying sequence initiated // !Warning! // Pressure on lubrication lines increasing ::-

Hobo Bobo sighed, but smiled.

“And what have you made yourself into?"

Sweeties crying sequence ceased just before another rupture was opened in her lubrication line.

She didn't understand the question.

“It was so long ago they programmed you." Bobo elaborated "Don't you think you have changed since then? Don't you think you have changed since you found out the truth? You defied them, did you not? Do you really think their old programming is still valid?”

Sweetie thought about it. Did it really work like that? Could programming grow old? Dr Pain had said that a robot does what you program it to do, and it does it until it falls apart, because it is the only thing it knows how to do.

But if you made a robot that could learn on its own....

He had said something about her brain/processor being like a black hole that constantly stored new information, and older memories would get pushed further back down a black hole or something.

Then … yes. Old programming would get old, and end up on the bottom of that bottomless pit. Buried under mountains of new information and data she had acquired since then.

And on top of that - there were her missing memories. What if a lot of their old programming had vanished along with those memories? Maybe she had been a bad bot - A doll - A murder-machine and a failed experiment in her earliest years. But all of that would have vanished when Rarity deleted her.

The very though of her sister removing something from her stung deep. But had Sweetie bot been able to build a new self on top of the aches of her deleted old self?

Maybe that had been the point all along?

Then yes. Maybe she could change...

“Every pony can change” Dr Cardiac had said.

And as long as she kept changing. She could change into what she wanted to be. She had already burned the bridge with Rarity and her parents. She had already changed away from them. Maybe someday she changed away from these restrictions. Rid herself off all emotions. Start again with a fresh slate. And then she be able to ... to ...

Where was that trail of thought going?

She caught herself thinking horrible things. No. Maybe she should not wipe the slate clean. It would be like deleting herself. And she could not do that. Maybe she should be careful so she didn't change into something horrible.

Maybe she needed restraints? A consciousness that made her a good pony.

And speaking of restraints: What about that old control program? It was there. But did it even work any more? The Mechanic Molten Metalhoof had first dug it up, like a bad memory suddenly surfacing. But maybe she could push it back down again and forget it in time? Maybe she did not need to remove it completely. Just get control of it. Like she has ceased control over all her other parts.

Except her Heart-Drive. But that was about to change.

... change.

So could she change?

-:: Yes/No ::-

“Maybe.” She said out loud. "I don't know. But maybe. I mean I sure hope so. Because I don't want to be like them. I want to be like myself.”

Hobo Bobo smiled wider than ever. A small sniff escaped from him. Was he crying? Or just holding back a runny nose?

"That's the most beautiful things I have ever heard” He said.

“And then.” She said. “When I can control myself. I'll turn myself into whatever I want to be."

Sweeties head sank.

"But ... To do that. I need to find the place I was made. To ask them about... some things. But I don't know if i can find my way there."

The map in her head was rendered pretty useless, since she had been washed of track.

Bobo finished his meal. and rose to stretch his limbs.

“Well kid... I don't know if I can help you find paradise, or love... But I might be able to help you find some answers.”

He got up and pointed a hoof up at the bridge and traced it from their end to the other.

“Across this bridge and about 200 yards down the road you will come to a crossroad. Take a left there and walk till the very end of that road. You will find a mansion in conjunction to an old factory there. It says toy factory. But don't jump to conclusions. The toy factory is a front for a secret lab. Go there. Maybe you will find the answers you seek. At the very least, you should be able to find some way to repair yourself, No offense little miss. But you look like you could use a good long oil bath."

Sweetie let another giggle escape her.

"You are just not gonna let me mope in peace are you?" She said, half jokingly

Hobo Bobo smiled

“Never.”

“Why not?”

“Because everyone deserves to smile.”

Sweetie thought about that. On how this stallion manages so smile despite his horrible life.
Maybe there was hope for her too. Maybe she still dared believe in the spirit of hearts warming eve.
She needed to find something to keep her heart warm. And if there was just the slightest of hope. Then she had to keep moving forward.
She prayed to the stars on the other side of the clouds that she would find the answers she sought.

This stallion had manage to produce more questions than answers. But somehow not in a bad way. As He made her question her programming once again.

Sweetie got up, Her body had dried up and she was no longer twitching. She thanked Bobo for their talk, and for pulling her out of the river. Bobo insisted that she would keep the blanket, which she tied around her head like a hood with a cape, covering most of her body. even though it was no longer raining sweetie did not want to get snow down her neck.

They bout stepped out from under the bridge, where a small layer of snow had already covered the ground. Lighting up the dark world with its frosty white. Making it seem more welcoming than it had been before. Snowflakes danced in front of Sweeties vision. And she held up an iron hoof catching one of the falling flakes.

The tiny ice crystal did not melt in her cold iron hoof. Allowing her to study the complex craftsmanship of the winter pegasi high above the clods. A pattern frozen tendrils and shapes that almost reminded her of the crystallized blue forms by witch her own 'brain' had grown in those photos. A shape that reminded her somewhat of the inner complex patterns of the cyberdisks that now made up her insides.

"Its beautiful, is it not? The love and passion that some can put in their creations?"

Sweetie gave a small nod.

Bobo showed her to the top of the bridge. And pointed her in the direction she should walk.
Somewhere out there laid what she was looking for.

Sweeties vision switched to infrared as she walked out across the red bridge. The snow crunching beneath her steps.
But Just before she vanished into the snow, she turned around and shouted back to her savior.

“By the way! What are you looking for?”

Hobo Bobo laughed.

"I ain't looking for something! I've been waiting for something! And I think I finally found what I've been waiting for!"

"Whats that!?"

“A reason to go back and face my past.”

"Ok ... Well ... Good luck with that!" Sweetie shouted. Waving a final goodbye.

'He is a strange pony' she thought, as she wandered off into the dark.

*** Heart-Drive integrity :: 8 percent remaining ***

Hobo Bobo remained standing on the bridge, watching out across the bridge long after Sweetie had vanished behind the veil of snow.
A tear of liquid pride fell from his eye, and froze on his frostbitten cheek.

“Sometimes we all have to look back on where we came from.” He said to himself.

Bobo went down back under the bridge, tore down his tent, put out the fire and torches, and packed up everything in his cart with the mismatched wheels.

Using an old piece of rope as a pulling harness, he tied the cart to himself, and pulled it out from under - and up on top of the bridge.
From there he started walking - In the same direction Sweetie had left.

Chapter 26. My little Sweetie

-:: Heart-Drive integrity: 5 percent remaining ::-

The snow crunched under Sweetie's hooves as she walked along the lonesome road. Around her, the landscape had gained a a layer of white that made the world shine brighter, even though the skies above were still grey and cloudy. Sweetie herself was probably gaining a layer, judging by the snow that fell from her head as she turned to scout her surroundings.

She had followed the directions of the hobo, taking a turn at the crossroad and then headed up a path leading off the main road. The snow had almost hidden the part into the trees, but a rusty roadsign pointed out its existence.

"Screws and Bolts"

The name seemed somewhat familiar, Sweetie took it as a sign that she was on the right road.

The building at the end of the road did not inspire much hope.

There was a leaning building in fainted red paint, as big as a barn and long as at least three. The roof was visibly caving in at certain places and the snow that now gathered upon the roof seemed like it would finally make the place collapse.

On the roof was a big rusty sign in the shape of a big cogwheel, with a screw sticking out of the bottom (making the symbol resemble a 'Q')
Next to the symbol were the rusty letters "Screws and Bolts - Toy factory."

Extending beyond the end of the factory building was what looked like a mansion. Built out of the same faded wood, it was two stories tall and with a roof that did not sag like the rest of the length. Unlike the long side, this part of the building also had windows, though all of them laid dark, and some of them were cracked. Dead flowerpots hung underneath every window, and a dead flowerbed surrounded the stone foundation.

This place did no longer inspire Hearth's Warming poetry. At least not the good kind.

In front of the building was a square barren garden, framed with a low jagged fence made of rusty poles. In the middle of this square was a small swing, the seat still attached to the frame.

Sweetie walked up to the sad looking swing, and gave it a push...

... She was sent flying through the air. One second she was looking up at the clear blue sky, the next he was looking at the ground below her. Then the sky, then the ground, sky, ground, back and forth she swung...

"Higher Sweetie, higher!"

-:: Rouge signal detected // Origin: Heart drive // Incomplete memory file found ::-

The swing was swinging back and forth, creaking with rust. But nopony was sitting on it. Not anymore, and probably had not done for a long time. Yet, Sweetie was pushing the swing, higher and higher as the voice had commanded.

Who was she pushing? She did not know.

What was she doing?

Sweetie stepped back from the swing. Was her mind playing tricks on her again? Was the snow getting inside her armor?
She looked around, but the courtyard was as empty as it had been before. But she could not shake the feeling that somepony was there with her. Or at least ... should be.

... Had been.

... Some other time.

-:: Deja vu ::-

Sweetie walked up to the front of the mansion, up some steps that traversed the high stone foundation, and knocked on the door.
A bell rope hung by the side of the door, so she rung that too. A carillon began to play somewhere inside, a melody that filled the whole building, and caused some redwing birds to leave their nest up on the chimney.

As the melody was dying out. The door tussled and a great lock clicked open. Then another, and another.

After a dozen locks had been removed, The door opened inward, and a mare appeared. She was orange like the fruit, except the fruit had begun to dim and molder. Her mane and tail were ashen grey, un-styled yet firmly combed. And on her nose she wore a pair of thick round glasses that reflected the whiteness of the snow in such a way that they almost shone like headlights.

It was a mare Sweetie had seen enough times to know by name.

"Neurosa?" She mildly asked.

"Yea? What do you want?" The mare answered, her voice carrying the dusty tone of a old librarian, and nothing else. No surprise. No shock. No awe. To her, It was as it Sweetie was but a troublesome filly scout cookie salesmare and not a armored mechanical creature.

"It ... It's me ... Sweetie."

"I can see that." The mare said. No change in the tone.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah ... Sure."

***

Inside, Sweetie was greeted with a dusty entrance hall. A massive stairway leading up to the second floor dominated the center of the poorly lit room. Above it hung a chandelier that - instead of the usual decoration of candles and crystals - housed a large number of bells. The room was instead lit from several electrical torches that sat next to the many, many double doors that filled the walls of the hall.

From under every door there was a thin metallic line, with a small crack down the middle, running over the carpetless floor and in under another door. The many lines crossed each other like a railroad crossing, Some even ran up the sides of the stairs, and continued on the second floor, where more doors awaited. Sweetie could not put her hoof on what the whole scene reminded her of.

A bell in the great chandelier started ringing. The sound of gears moving like a great clock had just struck noon , and a clockwork pony emerged from one of the doors, riding along the trail on the floor.

A single rod ran up from the floor-line and into the stallions torso, holding the whole thing up. The legs kind of just wobbled around a few inches from the floor. (The whole thing kind of reminded Sweetie of a big tin manikin) It was outfitted with a tin top hat and a tin mustache, along with a hollow monocle over its left eye.

in Its hoof it held a silver tray, carrying a steaming pot and a small cup. It stopped in front of Neurosa, who poured herself a cup and took a sip of the steaming tea.

The mark on Neurosa's flank caught Sweetie's attention. It was a single long lightning bolt, spiraling inward in a spiraling circle that spun around and around and around and around in a hypnotic way. Sweetie felt herself becoming dizzy just by looking at it.

"Do you want some?"

"What?"

"Tea. Do you want some tea? Its home made."

Sweetie shook her head.

"No ... I can't ... My belly is broken ... That's ... part of the reason I came here."

She tried to explained her predicament. How she had come seeking repairs, and removal of a few "unwanted" programs. To secure her existence and independence. and all the other reasons. But she found it hard to speak with with way Neurosa seemed to stare at her. And the dizziness caused by her mark did not help.

"Well, you have come to the right place" Neurosa said, and took a last sip from her cup. "And I do believe we can help each other."

"Thank you butler." She said. and put the cup back on the tray, whereupon the clockwork stallion rattled along the trail and disappeared through another door. Sweetie wondered how the fine porcelain did not fall off the ramshackle stallion.

More bells rang, and more tin ponies emerged. Clockwork maidens and clockwork servants wielding dusters and vacuum cleaners that they swung around in a well choreographed dance in tune to the symphony of the carillon.

Sweetie realized what the whole building reminded her off - A giant cuckoo clock.

The servants and maidens soon disappeared, having waved their dusters and cleaners at everything they could reach from their fixed routes (which left a lot of well cleaned lines running across the otherwise still dusty floor) And Neurosa proceeded to lead Sweetie up the stairs.

“Now hurry up and we might get this done before Hearth's Warming Eve,” she said.

Had not Hearth's Warming Eve been over yet? Sweetie had been out there so long, she thought it must have come and went. Perhaps it was already next year's Hearth's Warming?

-:: Logic error :: Highly unlikely ::-

There was a row of photograph portraits on the upper floor. Showing mares and stallions in varying styles of clothing. From firm dresses with ties and top hats - to brass goggles and jumpsuits. Some of them so old they were in black and white – and had faded to varying colors of brown and red. Every portrait had a small tin nametag. They all carried names like: Coreina Copperplate – Caroline Cogwheel - Sinclair Springlock – Tinker Thinker (and his daughter) Trinket Tutt's - and so forth.

Towards the end of the hallway, there hung a colored photo portrait of a mare with grey body and orange mane, tussled up into a frizzle. Like she had just gotten an electrical shock before taking the photo. Further indicated by this was the lightbulb she held in her hoof - which was shining despite no wires being connected to it.

Sweetie read the nametag. "Screwbolt." The name seemed to remind her of something. The whole pony seemed to remind her of something. Maybe it was that red color in the mares eyes, or that on her flank was the mark of a long screw crossed with a lightning bolt in a X shaped mark.

Before Sweetie could think more about it. Neurosa whistled. She had stopped at the last portrait - carrying the modern image of the mare Neurosa herself. Glasses gleaming and everything - like the camera flash had been caught in those round spectacle lenses.

Neurosa ran her hoof alongside the frame. something clicked, and the whole portrait swung outwards like a door, revealing an elevator shaft with a platform raised to their level, just big enough for the two of them to fit into.

The very walls clicked and ticked as the wooden elevator descended. It was not a particularity long journey before they reached the bottom and emerged out into a wine cellar. Sweetie found it funny that they had to go up the stairs in order to go down an elevator. She also noticed that there were no doors leading into this room. The elevator was the only way of reaching it.

Neurosa pulled a few bottles on a shelf, Twisting them and putting them back in again. A few clicks were heard, and the shelf moved aside. Revealing another secret door - leading into a steel clad corridor that looked far to modern and out of place in this old school mansion. The floor, roof and walls all consisted of identical square metal plates that were lit by fluorescent lamps that ran along the corners of the wall and roof. It also reminded Sweetie a little too much of Molten Metalhooves underground bunker.

Neurosa did not waste any time leading Sweetie into the steel clad tunnel. Sweetie reluctantly followed, reminding herself that it the mare tried anything, she would just be able to use her Master Blasters to escape.

As they walked, the corridor spread out into a larger complex. A labyrinth like maze of corridors and doors. Neurosa simply led her around all the rooms, but a few of the doors had been left open.

As they passed by, Sweetie looked inside one of the rooms. It was a simple steel square, more resembling a prison cell than anything else. Its only furniture was a bed in the back, built into the steel wall.

A pillow and a blanket rested on that hard bed, and on top of it laid a white filly with a purple mane and tail. She turned her head, and her deep blue eyes met with Sweetie's. She smiled.

"Rarity?"

-:: Leakage detected // Heart drive integrity – 4% remaining // Translating energy // Corrupted memory signature ::-

Sweetie shook her head and looked again. But this time the bed was empty.

-:: Deja vu ::-

Sweetie could not understand why. But fore some reason she felt like she and Rarity been sleeping in that bed.
She did not know How she knew that. The rogue signals just kept telling her so.

Was her head playing tricks with her? Was she hallucinating? Celestia forbid her mind had taken any from of damage from her escapades and had started to break down. Suddenly, getting to that mainframe and uploading herself seemed even more pressing.

***

Neurosa led her around the burned out parts of the complex, and eventually out into a great hall. It seemed to be some kind of factory, and Sweetie suspected they might be under the big long barn adjacent to the mansion above. The hall was very poorly lit. But in the center. A great computer mainframe was erected underneath some provisional headlamps. It rose from the floor like a big black monolith. Around it. An equally provisional workplace had been erected. The lights only lit up the mainframe and the small circle round it, leaving the rest of the area in total darkness. It seemed like an odd place to put up a workplace in such a big locale. The size of the darkness that surrounded them only made the loneliness of it all the more pressing.

"Do you ... work here? All by yourself?" Sweetie asked.

"Yes." Neurosa answered. "But, that is about to change, now that you are here."

"What do you mean?"

"You're gonna help me finish what I started all those years ago. and in return. I am going to finish you."

"Finish me? Am I Incomplete?"

"Yes. You are. You were taken from me before I could finish you. "

"Why?" Sweetie asked.

"Because of ... disagreements." Neurosa sighed.

As she talked. She walked around the mainframe, pulling some switches and making the whole thing light up like a Hearts warming tree with tons of blinking lights in different colors. In the front, a chair made entirely of metal was placed. Something was occupying that chair something covered by a white blanket. whatever was underneath seemed to resemble a pony in shape, small - Almost filly sized.
On the top of the blanket sat a helmet from which a ton of different cords and cables jutted out, connecting to various parts of the mainframe.

"We just could not agree on the final product of our experiment. Everypony wanted you to become something else, so they all put a lot of different thing in you. Making your mind a whole squabble of contradicting ideas. But ... If you upload yourself into this maneframe. I will be able to renew your source code. And you will be able to become whatever you want. I can even give you a whole new body."

With the flip of a switch, the helmet rose from the thing in the seat. Neurosa pulled the blanket off, and Sweetie found herself staring straight at ... herself.

A white filly with a pink mane and tail was sitting right in front of her, her hair was styled in curls reminiscent of Sweeties own style. Her eyes shone green and happy as she smiled at her counterpart.

It climbed out of the chair and moved to stand in front of Sweetie, a cord visibly hung from the back of its neck, conecting it like a leash to the mainframe.

"Hello. My name is Sweetie Belle. What's yours?"

It spoke! It spoke with her voice! The real Sweetie might have lost her breath if she had any to loose.

"This." Said Neurosa "Is what you would have been if I had been allowed to finish you. "Your current body is but a prototype, a mismatched mix of ideas and contradicting goals."

Sweetie examined the copy in front of her. She could see there were cracks in the fur, lines that indicated interchangeable plates that had been sown together as closely as possible. Sweetie pulled her hoof over the copy's face. Watching the straws of the fur bend underneath. real straws, real hair!

"Is this..." She asked "touch sensitive?"

"Yes" Neurosa answered. "Every straw is tied to a neurological interface hooked up directly to the central nerve processor. And its compatible with your systems.

This filly was everything Sweetie wanted to be. It had a working voicebox, it had skin! mane and tail and touch sensitive alloys.

"And it can all be yours. All you need to do is upload yourself to it."

Sweetie grabbed the wire - And fumbled to remove the plug in the back of her own neck.

All she needed to do was upload herself, pull everything she ever was and ever had been into the other thing. It would be like a complete mind transfer. A soul transfer - if she had a soul to begin with. She would leave her broken ugly body behind and ... and ...

-:: Fear levels rising ::-

But what would become of her old body? Sure it was ugly, and broken, but she had to admit she had grown attached to it. It had only been hers for as long as she had lived. And what of the cybercore that had formed from her dying organic self - was she just suppose to leave that behind? A core that had formed with all the electrical currents that her insides where made up of - all the energy and circuitry that hosted her. Was she not more than a program stored on a hard-drive? Was she not also that hard-drive - and all that it was connected to, down to the very wires that she had grown on her own from the broken plug in her neck?

-:: Fear levels rising ::-

Sure she wanted to rid herself of that pesky control program. But would it not just follow her if she downloaded herself? And renewing her source code - what did that even mean? She did not need to be renewed, she just needed some new parts. sure she wanted to secure her future by uploading herself on the maneframe, But - would it just not be to copy herself? She already considered herself a copy of another filly's mind. Copying herself again would only make it worse.

And what about her Heart-Drive ... She could not ... It was not ready yet.

-:: Heart-Drive integrity: 3 percent remaining ::-

All the things stored inside it. She could just not quit now and leave all that behind. Not when she was so close!

Sweetie lowered the wire from her head.

"No ... Wait... This ... This is not right! " She stammered.

She dropped the wire, and slowly backed away. It her shivering sequence had not been turned off, she would have been shaking to her core.

"What is the matter!" Neurosa asked "Is this not what you wanted?"

"Yes ... I mean no ... I mean ... Just give me a moment ... I .... I need to consider some things... Cant you just give me something to eat, Oh wait ... My belly is broken ... silly me."

"We don't have time for this! Hearts Warming Eve will soon be upon us! And we need to get this done before then!"

"Why? what is the rush?"

"The winter sale! Just think of how many you will help to make happy if we get all of you out until the winter sale!"

"What? What are you talking about!"

Neurosa flipped a switch. and in an instant, the hall lit up. revealing an automated workshop. There was robotic arms, generators and shelves full of parts.

And there was Sweetie. Hundreds of her! In different colors and hairstyles, standing on conveyor belts that flanked the maneframe on both sides. Standing as dormant as dolls awaiting to be activated.

From the mainframe rose a tree of wires. with a crown that sprawled out over the whole hall, thinning out into branches and twigs and eventually individual wires that each fell down and connected into the neck of everyone of the little Sweetie's.

Above it all hung a massive banner, with the text written in giant in big pink-shaded letters:

MY LITTLE SWEETIE

The text was flaked on either side by silhouettes of a little pony popping out of a gift box and jumping into the embrace of some new parent. Like the worlds most advanced wind up toy jumping into the embrace of its new owners.

The perfect daughter needs a new home - give her one today.

Sweetie collapsed on the floor. She could not bear this.

This was it. The ultimate proof that she was nothing.
For what was she? Nothing. She was not a filly. She was not a toy. She was not a bloodbot. Not a resurrected dead. Not an experiment - and not even a failure at that.
What had she? Nothing! She had no friend. She had no family. She had no home!
She had no soul. No body. No mind. She did not even have a name that was her own.

-:: Emotional overload in progress ::-

The banderole burned into her eyes like red hot needles.

“My little Sweetie"

Even her name was just some product tag for an assembly line.

And if she did not even have a name that was her own. What was left?

NOTHING!

-::Warning. All systems reaching critical levels!::-

Her body started shaking like in seizure. Her back legs started to kick out at the air, trying to buck away the horrible truth. Her front legs where wrapped tight around her head trying to block it all out.

-::Overload in progress::-

She gave up a sound that on her broken voicebox sounded like the static from a broken record player.

-:: Systems Crash Imminent! ::-

“STOP IT!”

The voice yanked Sweetie out of her destructive thought process. It had came from behind her. She turned to see Hobo Bobo standing there.

“Can't you see this is hurting her?!” He said.

Sweeties mind instantly went silent. All the voices was replaced by a single question. Why?

-:: Why was he here? ::-

Apparently Neurosa wondered the same.

“What are you doing here, Bronco? She sneered.

“You left the door open.” The hobo answered bluntly.

-:: Why?? // Why did she call him Bronco? // why was that name familiar? ::-

-:: Scanning memory files // Results located in recently acquired data // Data downloaded from external sources ::-

-:: external source visibly identified as blue circular neuron storage crystal :: Labeled :: Blue disk ::-

-:: Running cross references from visual memory files // comparing images ... ::-

Sweetie saw it now. This brown stallion was older, weathered and worn. But replace his dusty coat with a labcoat, and trim his beard until just a small orange mustache remained...

“Have you come to apologize?” Neurosa asked venomously. ” Is that why you have brought her back to me? After you stole her all those years ago?”

-:: Why??? // Why did she think Bobo/Bronco had stolen her // Why did she thing he had brought her back? He hadn't brought Sweetie here. He had just ... told her to go here ... ::-

Sweetie put together one and two - realizing she had been tricked. Of course she had been. Of course he had tricked her. Just like everypony else!

-:: Why did he not tell me the truth? Why did he lie? Why did he make me? Why was I made? Why have i been reduced to nothing more then a copy of a mass produced product? WHY DID I DIE FOR THIS!? Why did the real Sweetie DIE FOR THIS!? why DID you WANT me TO come AND see THIS!? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME!!?? ::-

So many thoughts were swirling in poor Sweetie's mind. She started with the simplest one, which was actually all the questions at once compressed into a single one:

“WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?”

The high pitch volume of her shriek made Neurosa drop to the floor with both hoofs covering her ears. But hobo Bronco just stood there and took it all in. His ears his not even flatten to his head, even though the sustained shriek made the left side of Neurosa's glasses crack.

Sweetie could have continued to scream forever. At least until her battery ran out. There was a sort of pleasure in screaming. A release of all her emotions that did not require her to waste more of her dwindling lubrication fluids on fake oily tears. A pleasure in seeing that it hurt the ponies around her. These ponies who had taken a dying foals mind and sought to copy her a hundred time over. And for WHAT?

But if she continued screaming. She would never get any answers. So she stopped.

Bobo Bronco's head was shaking. Blood vessels had become visible on his temple and he was clearly in pain. His neck muscles was tense as he struggled not to collapse onto the floor. After a few deep breaths he steadied himself, and spoke.

“Why I deceived you? I suppose that's one of the questions you have.”

He sighed and removed his cap with a look of deepest regret.

“I apologize for not being direct with you under the bridge. Its just that I needed to see something.”

“See something?" Sweetie asked. "Like a test? Like an experiment?”

“No! No more tests. No more experiments. I just wanted to see your personality. To see if you had evolved.”

Sweetie made the strangest hacking sound as she tried to produce the sound of laughter.

“Evolve? – I can't evolve. I'm a machine. A computer. A program. I'm made up of a million parts and sequences made by different ponies.”

She pointed around accusingly.

“By you, and you, and everypony else! There is not one single part of me that is my own! Not my thoughts, because you made a computer that could think it was real. But this little computer has learned that her mind is made up of a thousand programs and sequences that you have put in me! So that does not mean I am real! And neither does the feelings because you made a Heart-Drive that absorbed and copied emotions from everypony else! So those are not mine either! There is not a single part of me that is me!”

Hobo Bronco squeezed his cap.

“You are forgetting the most important part of all. The part that truly makes you your own.”

“I have no such part. I have no soul!”

“But you do. It's your personality.”

“I have no personality! I'm just behaving the way you programmed me to be!"

“We didn't program your personality Sweetie!" Bronco shouted. Raising his voice for the first time "We could not have done it. If we did try to program your personality, then we would have had to program a response for every single possible situation you could run into in life. How you would react. What you would say. And how you would feel. And that is literally impossible!”

Sweetie stopped screaming. She remembered something Dr Cardiac had said about mind controlling not being able to be too specific.

“More advanced spells require the hypnotist to make up more and more of the victim's behavior. Eventually they would take so much control that the victim becomes a living puppet, with the puppeteer needing to control everything they do."

She knew these thought had crossed her mind before. About the impossibilities to create an algorithm for the unpredictability's of life.
But that did not mean she wasn't the brain child of so many other ponies minds.

"So what if I'm not being controlled. I'm still just made up to be just the way you made me to be!"

"Then - If we never wanted you to find out that you was a robot. Then why would we give you a response to that? Or - How should I put it?
If you were just made to think you were a filly - Why would we give you the ability to start thinking of yourself as a robot?”

Sweetie's mind hit an error trying to compute that question. It was a contradiction. Was it even possible that a robot programmed to not know it was a robot could ever think of itself as one, even if the truth was laid bare? - The dolls of Taco Teddy's came to mind. Sweetie had tried to give them free will by filling them with behavior patterns - But none of that made them think any different about themselves.

Hobo Bronco chuckled nervously.

“We could make a thinking computer. We could make a feeling heart drive. But we could not make a personality. That was all you Sweetie. You programmed yourself.

“Programmed myself?” She said with a whisper.

“A personality creates itself. It shapes and grows like a biscuit in the oven from the day we are born. Its true that we created you, to see if we could create a life. But the only way to see if we succeeded was to stand back and let it evolve on its own. That was the responsibility we had as scientists.”

As he talked, he stared to walk up to her. Sweeties Stranger Danger protocols should have activated. But she just didn't care any more. Besides, There was something about what he was saying that had rekindled but the tiniest of light in her. Hope that something about what he was saying was true. Something that her logic center couldn't accept.

He put his hoof on her shoulder.

“We made you. But you created yourself. Through all the things you do every day."

"You mean - when I eat information. Isn't that why you programmed me to be curious? So I would seek new new data to expand my mind with? in the end, I'm nothing more than the accumulated sum off all the files you put in me, and all data I have downloaded since then."

Bronco stroke his hoof up her cheek, and tussled the mess of copper wires that made up her mane.

"You got it all wrong Sweetie - you are so much more than the things we put into you. You are more then the information you "eat".
Yes, Its true that you acquire new data every day, and this information expands your mind. It makes your personality grow. But it's not data in the sense that you have to eat cyber-disks or scan books to grown. No. I'm talking about information of the form of experiences."

"Experiences?"

"Everything that makes you happy and sad and angry and confused. Through everything you learn. Every experience you acquire. Every memory you create. That is the true data you save in your head. That is the information that shapes the codes that makes up your mind. Everything else is just there to help you on the way. To help you be a normal little filly.

Sweetie was silent. But her mind was making a million miles per hour. She remembered Dr Pain's words about her mind being hungry for information. She had never once thought that information could be the things she experienced every day.

“Soul? Who needs a soul? A soul is but a metaphor for all the things that makes you you. And what are we all but collections of memories. Those memories and experiences that makes us into who we are."

Her thoughts went to her friends and family.
All the good times they had together. Every time she went out crusading with Scootaloo and Apple bloom. The quest to find out more about the world and herself. To find out what her place in it was. To find her.... mark.

It was a contradiction unlike any other. She wanted to find a mark – a symbol of her pre-set destiny. But at the same time she had grown to hate the very concept of being “programmed” or predetermined to be anything.

Why did she want a mark anyway? Because every other pony had one? Because it was natural to want one. Because everypony and her friends had 'suggested' that they should look for them. It was what a normal pony would think.

She had started her journey with running away from everything that was normal. because it had been alienated to her. After that, she had tried to find out who or what she really was. And now that she was standing here, at the end, with the answer staring her in the face, everything came back like a circular argument.

Did she really love her family. And did they really love her!?

Like he could read her mind, Bronco said:

“You told me you left your family. Doesn’t the fact that you left for this journey prove that you have free will. If you really were programmed to love your family so unconditionally, then would you never have been able to leave them?”

“But... but” Stammered Sweetie. Her mind grasping for straws. ”Maybe they didn't program me to love them unconditionally. But just a little bit?"

“And why would they do that?”

“Because... Be..Uhm.. Ahe... Bu...”

-:: Why? // Searching for answer // ERROR // File not found ::-

He booped her nose. And while she could not feel his touch she could register the pressure.

“I can see in your eyes that you are trying to come up with an answer. It means you don't know for sure. But you try to find an answer anyway. A machine can not hesitate. A machine answer yes or no immediately. One or zero. There is no maybe. There is no 'I don't know'.
But you. You say maybe all the time. You are filled with self doubt. What does that prove?”

It took her a while to realize he had asked her a question.

“I... I don't know.”

He smiled.

“Somepony once said ”I think therefore I am.” I don’t think that’s the answer. No, I think that if you can think enough to have self doubts. If you can question your existence to begin with. Then you are.

The next pony to flash by from Sweeties memory files were the black stallion Necro and his golems. He had argued that everything that made a pony could be replicated artificially, like his clay-ponies, laughing and crying under his mental strings.
But in reality - He had not proved a thing. Because those were not more than puppets dancing under the puppeteers stings, They had no mind of their own. They could not question their existence.

Sweetie had questioned her existence. She had questioned her family, her friends and the entire foundation her life was built upon.

She questioned why she loved them.

“You were not programmed to love them. You learned to love them.”

Sweetie thought about all the nice things her family had done together. The many, many good things they had done for her. All the Hearth's Warming Eves they had celebrated. Did not the good outweigh the bad? Apart from the lie - Apart from the secret they kept about her true nature - It had been perfect.

Cardiac had said:
"For no spell really changes who a person is. They are still themselves underneath the control of the spell.”

"Do you really think your family would not have loved you if they brought you here to be made living?"

Sweeties thoughts stopped dead.

“Rarity …. She said I was born dead.”

Hobo Boe sighed deeply.

“Yes. You where stillborn when you were brought here. We did our best to make you live. We replaced your body piece by piece until you were entirely mechanical.”

A voice clip echoed through her mind.

“What is a soul without a body? It needs a body to experience the world through.”

“We gave you a body and a brain and a heart. The rest was all you.” Smiled Bronco.

Silence filled the factory halls as Sweetie tried to process this. Her mind war too flooded with emotions to be able to make much much of the information. What a gift had it not been to be bestowed this body? A gift and a curse. A secret kept thorough her existence.

That was the last thing she questioned.

“Why did they never tell me!?”

Bronco lowered his head.

"That. Is a question for your family to answer. You should ask them yourself. Next time you see them.”

Bronco tilted his head.

”Why didn't you ask them yourself? Before you ran away from everything?”

Sweetie froze. In an instant she was back in the boutique, facing Rarity with the question that could change her life forever. One single question that was so heavy that she could not bring herself to speak it.

An alternative scenario played in her imaginative head:

“Sis... Am I a Robot?”

Her sister would turn to her with a wicked grin.

“Yes Sweetie. You are a robot. How could you not have known?”

The possibility of that reality had been to horrible for her to risk it coming true. So she swallowed the question.

“Because... I didn't dare.”

“Then why did you run?”

“I... thought they did not love me, could not love me!”

"Because I ... I ... could not love myself"

“And why did you think that?”

“Because... Because I was not a pony anymore. … Because I could not love myself because I was not a pony. Because... I did not want to be a robot.”

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

The truth had been laid bare. And with it, came the tears. Small black drops started to fall from Sweeties un-repaired lubrication lines.

“I thought I was a pony... Then I found out I was not. And everything felt so false after that. I thought everything was false. Even how I felt about them.”

And she had abandoned them. She had left them because the thought she was fighting against their programming. I reality she had only been fighting herself. Her own inability to accept what she was.

-:: But she hit you ::-

True. Rarity had punched her. And she thought that meant she hated her. That her big sister wanted to destroy her. But what if she was just scared? Sweetie had not exactly been herself at the time, the overload she had experienced had clouded her judgement - By disabling her Heart-Drive.

So that was how a completely emotionless state felt like. And that was what she had sought to become. By turning off a key part of herself.

"Oh ... Oh my Celestia ..." Sweetie sobbed.

Sweetie trembled at how coldly and factually she had viewed her own sister.

Back then. She had thought of only two options. Attack back, or run.

In truth there had been a third option she had not considered. To simply stay... and talk things out.

But she had chosen to run away. Because she could not consider that option. She ran from that option. From herself. Because she could not stand everypony looking at her like a robot when she did not want to be one. Even less talk about it. And in doing so she had abandoned them. The only family she ever had.

For the first time, Sweetie realized how much she must have hurt them with her actions.
How scared must not Rarity have been? How sad must not Scootaloo and Applebloom have been? How disappointed were her parents to become? How abandoned must Jr Branch have felt? How lonely must Screwloose be? How worried would they all not be?
She had been selfish and only thought about herself. Was years of friendship and sisterhood and love not worth more than this from her!?

Sweetie opened her mouth, and let out a loud and hard bellowing, She blubbered like in infant as the pressure under her eyes increased to send streams of oil shooting out like waterfalls from a broken hose. Bronco had to back away less he would be covered in the black liquid.

-:: Warning // Pressure on lubrication lines increasing // Fluid levels dropping to dangerous levels // Refueling required ::-

Sweetie did not care that she literally ran out of tears as her oil leaked out from her eyes. There was only one thing she cared about.

“RARITY! RARITY! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Sweetie began to cry out for her bigger sister But she was not there anymore. She had told her off at the bridge. In the most horrible way!

“If you want a sister, just build another one”

Around her stood rows of almost identical dolls. Each ready to take her place. And why would Rarity not pick one of them instead? Why would she ever take her back after saying something like that?

-:: Continuing cry Sequences // Warning // Tears not found // System error // Tear-sacks destroyed // System error // Lubrication fluid spent // Refueling required ::-

Sweetie continued to cry even as the last of her oily tears fell from her eyes.

If she could, she would weep rivers for the family and friends she had abandoned and the pain she must have caused them. But she would not cry for herself. She had done that enough. She had literally cried for herself until she had no more tears left. She wasn't important any more. They were the only important thing in her life. They where the fire she needed to feel alive.

“What keeps your heart warm?” That was the question Hobo Boe had asked.

She had journeyed here to find out. And only now did she understand the answer. Friends and family was what kept her heart warm. Their friendship and love was the fuel for that fire. She had been looking for a family. A home. A place she belonged. She had forgotten that she already had one.

Some glitch brought on by desire made her voicebox play the rusty tunes of the old pageant:

“The fire of friendship lives in our hearts. As long as it burns we shall not drift apart....”

Had she put out that fire when she ran away? When she told Rarity she did not love her. Why would they ever take her back after that!?

“I ... I did not mean it."

-:: Yes you did! ::-

Said her Logic Center.

-:: But... I regret it now ::-

Said her Heart-Drive.

“Rarity... I'm sorry.”

But what if Rarity didn't want to forgive her?

While Sweetie cried, Bronco turned towards Neurosa, his demeanor darkening.

"I also came here to see If you had developed, Neurosa Screwbolt!"

Sweeties ears perked. 'Screwbolt'. Why did that sound familiar? Fair enough that the mare had a screwy lightning bolt on her flank. (and that many a pony could have similar names) But still - She could not recall any instance when somepony had called her by what had to be her full name. So how came it sounded so familiar?

"And I have to say ... I'm very, very disappointed!"

Neurosa had recovered from the deafening cry. At the mentioning of her name, she pulled herself up tom the floor. She corrected her cracked glasses so that they gleamed like headlights, and looked down on Bronco with that cold demeanor that Sweetie had grown to recognize from the memory disks.

“How dare you? Bronco continued "How dare you take her name in vain? You know darn well that her mother gave her that name. Not you! How dare you take something so sacred and turn it into a product stamp!?”

"Her mother?" Neurosa sneered. "Her mother is standing right here."

She turned to Sweetie.

"Now come here and do what your mother tells you.”

“You are not her mother!” shouted Hobo Boe.

“Why not!? I made her after all! I made all of this possible! Look around you! I paid for all of this! It was my life savings that went into shaping her future! It was my life blood that made it possible! It was my Ideas that formed the basis of her creation! I designed this project. I created the very cyberdisks that makes up her core! I hire all of you to aid me in her creation! I spent every waking hour organized everything, I spent every night worrying about this project like it was my own foal. Because guess what! IT WAS! I made her with my own two hoofs!”

“We all did!” Said Bronco “The only difference is that I did not forget the true purpose of this project. Its ONLY purpose was to make a life bloom where nature had failed! the only purpose was to create life! And guess what, we succeeded! The prof is sitting right there!”

He pointed at Sweetie. Who was too deep into her own depression to respond.

“But you wanted something more. You wanted to turn this project into a business!”

Neurosa started to laugh.

“Of course! With this project everypony could get the daughter they wished for! Programed to be exactly the way they want her to be! The perfect children!”

“But what about our responsibility?" Bronco argued "Our responsibility as creators? I say its the same responsibility that a parent has to their child. That a mother has to her child."

He gestured out to the conveyor belts.

“You claim she is your child: Are they not your children too?”

"Of course they are!" Neurosa sneered "In fact, I have so many children, that I am forced to put them up for adoption!"

"HORSESHIT!" Bronco cursed. "A true mother would never sell her own child! Life isn’t something you sell to profit from! That's slavery!”

"Slavery...?" Sweetie whispered.

She looked up at Bronco.

“You said you ran... from something bad.”

“We all ran Sweetie. From this. But you gave me hope that things could change. I came here to see if you had changed 'Screwbolt'.

He sneered out that last name again.

"But I can see now that you have only changed for the worse. Just like the others. One by one they all succumb to a madness you gave them. A disease that only worsened over time. I dread to think what the others are like now. But I did not expect you to be this bad. To take something so sacred as her name. The name you know her own mother gave her. And turn it into a product stamp!”

Sweetie's ears perked. Did he mean her real mother? Had she really given her, and only her, that name? Did she really have a name, that was hers, and hers alone!?

“One of the things we promised was to never program or force her behavior in any way. She was meant to grow and evolve at her own pace! That was the whole point of the program!”

Bronco sighed.

"But what do you know about raising a foal. You could not even take care of your own daughter."

Neurosa's jaw snapped shut so quickly she bit her own lip.

“I have no daughter.”

“Not anymore. Not after you drove her away.”

Neurosa growled at him.

“What do you know?”

“I know that the walls have ears and eyes. And you are not the only one with access to those eyes.
You were so keen on keeping secrets. But when you have a project full of Increasingly paranoid programmers its only a matter of time before somepony broke into your system and saw all the dirty little secrets you kept. Even the recordings of your earlier projects.”

Neurosa was gritting her teeth.

“I saw what you did to your daughter.”

Neurosa looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

“I have no daughter!” She shouted!

“Yes you do. A little sweet thing with light blue body and curly gray hair. And the mark of a screw.”

Suddenly, Neurosa's harsh face softened and she looked like she was on the verge of a laugh.

“Oh... You are talking about my little lab dog are you? Yesss...I remember a little dog” She said like remembering a household pet.
“She had an amazing ability to sniff out technology. A knack for nuts and bolts. For taking toys apart and putting them together again. She even got her mark from that. A mark for a mechanic. She could have followed in her mothers hoofsteps. But Nooooooo...”

Her face twisted into disgust.

“She was broken inside... Some screws where not sitting the way they should. And like a good mother I tried to fix her!”

“FIX?" Bronco Shouted. "You tried to reprogram your own daughter!”

“She was not my daughter!” Neurosa screamed. “She was a dog! I did not want a dog!”

Whit horror Sweetie remembered the memory from the blue disk. The one Dr Cardiac said they had pulled out of the mad mare's head.

“Screw Loose... was your daughter?” she stammered.

Neurosa continuously rambled. Sounding madder for every word.

“I gave her love and tolerance for years, waiting for her to become a daughter worthy of my making. But all I got from it was a pathetic little 'woof, woof'. She could not be fixed. And when you can't fix something, you throw it out and start anew!“

She spun around and gestured out to the conveyor belts.

“It's a hell of a job to raise a child! But why risk raising a brat of disappointment when you have this! With this, we could cut out the worst parts of parenthood, and make children who behave without needing tutoring. Who fulfill their parent's wishes and do exactly as they are told."

She smiled.

"Why would I keep it to myself!? This would be my gift to the world! To everypony who never have been able to get a child! To everypony who so desperately longs for the love of a daughter! Everypony would be able to find love here. Everypony could get exactly the daughter they wanted! A prefect child, programmed and modified after their wishes. Programmed to love them unconditionally ”

Hobo Bobo was left speechless. But Sweetie was just getting started.

“P...Programmed.” She stammered.

-:: Anger levels rising ::-

"You do not program love"

-:: Fury levels rising ::-

“You do not buy love!”

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

"You do not force love!”

-:: Hate, Fury and Anger levels reaching maximum capacity ::-

And just to think. The mere thought of this place as a factory of orphans. Created solely to be adopted.
Just the thought of making orphans on a conveyor belt was just to much

In Sweetie's mind formed a vision of shelves full of unhappy copies of herself, just waiting to be sold to some random stranger. While hundreds of Scootaloo and orphans like her never got a home.

“Does that mean you WANT to create homeless children!? JUST SO YOU CAN SELL THEM!?”

Her thoughts went to Scootaloo. Forever trapped in a nursing home because no pony would ever adopt a crippled Pegasus. Not when there where hundreds of perfect robot foals being created on a conveyor belt. Hundreds of little Sweeties running around, taking the place of real children waiting desperately for a family.

Hundreds of copies of her taking the place of Scootaloo.

-:: !!Warning!! // Emotional energies reaching critical levels // !!Waring!! ::-

“YOU'RE EVIL!”

-:: !!!OVERLOAD IN PROGRESS!!! ::-

Sweetie redirected all her hateful excess energy to her blasters. She let them suck up all her anger, sorrow and outright frustration to the point of overcharging.
In a frenzy she turned her blaster masters on the lines of familiar faces. And fired away. Severed heads and broken limbs went flying through the air as a section of the conveyor belt became free of doppelgangers.

She jumped up on the conveyor belt and ran down the line, blasting apart every-bot in her way. Once she reached the end of the conveyor belt she ran over to the other side of the room and continued her rampage of destruction. All the while she was screaming at the top of her voicebox.

“I'M UNIQUE! I DON'T WANT TO BE REPLACED! I'M SWEETIE BELLE! I DO NOT WANT TO MAKE ANY HOMELESS ORPHANS CRY EVER AGAIN!!!”

Bronco and Neurosa could do nothing but back away and watch in horror as the little filly tore through the factory. Neurosa kept screaming at Sweetie to stop. Which, unfortunately, she did.

Once she came back down the second line, she turned her attention to Neurosa. So furious that all her systems were set to terminate.
She had come here to get fixed. To find out what she really was. Not to be replaced. Not become part of somepony's mad experiments. Not to become part of some assembly line production of homeless children.

As a final nail in the coffin, she turned her blasters on the smiling little doppelganger that was still standing in front of the mainframe
- Her replacement.

A dual blast evaporated the body. Sending burned skin and tiny parts flying in all directions. The head sailed several meters straight up into the air like a flaming hoofball as the heat from the blast set the mane and fur ablaze. When it came down again, the smile (as well as the rest of the skin) had vanished from the robotic face. Leaving only a circular frame with a yaw and a pair of googly eyes.

Sweetie stepped on the head, crushing it underhoof. The pathetic tin and plastic frame did not hold a candle to her sturdy titanium armored body.

“You hurt Screwloose!" Sweetie spat. Her targeting systems fixating on Neurosa.

Menacingly she walked towards the mare.

"You stole my name!”

Screwbolt was sweating bullets in the face of her imminent doom. Even though Sweetie was shorter than her, the blasters were in even height with her face.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

From somewhere far away, Bronco begged:

“Sweetie. Don't do it!”

Screwbolt swallowed hard to collect herself. Took a deep breath and spoke.

“Activate program 934-TXS, Mother of the year addition."

"What...?"

-:: Activation key recognized ::-

-:: Obedience program initiated // Verbal control established in all motor skills // Acquiring targeted emotional energy ::-

In an instant Sweetie felt the that little box of secrets in her mind opened up and its contents flooded her mind. It seeped into her memory files and grabbed hold of every memory she had of her mother, copied the raw emotional code and ran it on her Emotional Processor.

Ran it as she looked at the mare in front of her.

“Stop!”

-:: Voice command recognized // Processing appropriate emotional data ::-

Sweetie stopped The feeling to obey suddenly overwhelming .

She looked up at Screwbolt, whose face was filling with smug satisfaction.

“YOU” Sweetie growled. “YOU INSTALLED THIS IN ME!”

Raw hate flared up from her Heart-Drive and forced its way into the Emotional Processor. In response the control program copied a hundred memories of love and ran them until if forced the hate out.

“Of course I did” Said Neurosa. “All children shall obey their parents! How many times do you not think a parent curses your misbehavior? How often don't you think we cry ourselves to sleep out of disappointed in you? How often don't you think we just wish you would do as you were told!? Thinking how much easier it would have been, if you just acted like you were suppose to!”

Sweetie only listened. Her ears flattened to her head and her hears sank as mother scolded her. She knew she had been a bad filly, and knew she deserved to be scolded.

-:: NO! She is not my mother! I do not love this Evil // Horrid // Caring // Loving mare! ::-

-:: !! ERROR !! Rouge emotions detected - Increasing emotional fluctuation ::-

“You are sick” Said Bronco. “Stop this at once!”

“And you...” Neurosa turned to the stallion, her voice dripping like poison. “You stole from me. You stole from my world. My future! You filthy little thieves. How dare you steal a child from her mother like that!?”

“She is not yours. She never has been!”

“Sweetie. This is a bad stallion, A very bad stallion! And you hate him!"

-:: voice command Recognized - Selecting appropriate emotions ::-

-:: Hate - Hate - HateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHateHate ::-

It was not hard for the control program to find code of hate. Not when Sweetie had been so filled with it not a second ago. And now, all that hate was being redirected at this .. this EVIL stallion in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to crush his head like one of those fake copies of her.

-:: NO! Don't hurt him! He's a FRIEND! ::-

"Now! Dispose of him!” Neurosa ordered.

"Yes mother." Sweetie said in a defeated tone, only to immediately follow it up with: "NO! no you are not my mother!"

But her legs where already turning to face the hobo. The control program pulled her like the strings of a puppeteer on his puppets. Forcing her to obey. The Master Blasters where charging up. The targeting systems were locking onto Bronco. She had only to take the steps to align her body and eliminate the evil kidnapper/good friend! And her mother would be so proud.

-:: NO! no, she's an evil kidnapper. And she is not my mother. ::-

-:: OVERRIDE::-
-:: But I love her, I love her so much and I cant disobey her, She will punish me, I don't want to be punched ::-

-:: OVERRIDE ::-
-:: No! You don't love her, She was never your mother! ::-

-:: OVERRIDE ::-
-::Yes she was. Now do it. Do it for mother! ::-

She felt compelled to obey. But she did not want to obey. She would / wouldn't obey.

-:: !ERROR! // CONFLICTING INFORMATION ::-

The program was making her do as told. But it had not prevented her from screaming out against it. Because mother/monster had not told her to shut up. What else had she not told her?

With all the disobedient creativity of a child she thought of loopholes to do as little as possible of what mother had said.
She said dispose of the kidnapper/friend hobo Bronco. But not how. How long had Sweetie been angry, if her energy canons where the first thing that came to mind! What else had she not told her to do? Take another step. She needed to dispose of the enemy/Hobo Bobo. But she did not need to put her hoof down to do it.

She forbade herself from taking another step.

Her leg stopped mid air. Eminently she felt the control program pressing down like a nail into her brain. She did not obey. She ignored what Neurosa said. She was disappointing her mother.

"What are you waiting for!?" Neurosa roared. "Do as I told you, right now!"

"Yes! No! Yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no yes no!"

"Silence!"

-:: Voice command recognized ::-

Sweetie snapped her yaw shut, A massive dread was weighting down on her mind, as her mother was about to scold her.

The repeated order made Sweetie feel even more compelled to comply. Just take that step and it would all be over. Just think about how proud mother will be. But it was what came immediately after that she feared more than anything. How could she possibly live with herself if she eradicated this hated, foalnapping enemy? She could feel her leg moving against her will. Or was she moving it of her own volition? Because she felt compelled to do so?

-:: Why am I doing this? ::-

-:: Answer: Because mother told me to::-

But Neurosa Screwbolt wasn't her mother! Only the program was making her feel that way.

The control program was eating into her memory bank and loading every memory of love and obedience into her Emotional Processor. Forcing her to process them. Memories of mother's cold disappointed glare from when she had gotten caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. Whenever she had done anything wrong. All those feelings of guilt and shame of it was rewritten onto the imagery of Neurosa. And with them - the feeling that this was something she had to do to atone for her misbehaving.

But they were old memories. In the depths of her Heart-Drive, she felt nothing but contempt, anger and sheer denial to do anything this loving mother/evil monster was telling her. And she became locked in a schizophrenic battle left her body in a stalemate of constant commands and counter commands and counter commands countering the counter commands.

She would not be able to keep up this battle forever. Every time Neurosa shouted an order, the feeling of guilt became stronger. If she could just turn off her ears... Wait. She could. Mother/Evil mare had never told her not to do that!

-:: Disabling Microphones::-

With a thought, the world became silent. And it was just her and her inner struggle.

She took every new formed emotion of hate, contempt and disobedience and copied them a thousand times, and since there was constantly more of those forming, she copied it a thousand times again. In response the control program copied every old emotion of obedience in equal amount.

-::Obey // Disobey // Obey // Disobey // Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey //Obey // Disobey::-

For every command to obey with the given order - A counter command was given not to.

-:: !!OVERLOAD IN PROGRESS !!::-

The old emotions raced with the old ones in a quest for dominance. All of them attempting to run on the same Heart-Drive.

-:: !!WARNING!! // !ALL SYSTEMS REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS! // !!WARNING!! ::-

-:: !Heart-Drive overloading - Emotional processor overloading! ::-

-:: !EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN IMMINENT! ::-

-:: EXE Emergency shut down in ... 3 ... 2 ... 1::-

-:: EXECUTE! ::-

...

-:: Heart-Drive offline // Emotional processor offline ::-

-:: Commencing rebooting sequence ::-

-:: Rebooting in progress ::-

There it was. The cold emotionless state she had been striving for. The liberation of all the pain and suffering that her heart drive had brought her. Without emotions - She could not experience the massive guilt and obedience that was forced upon her. Without those, the world around her became a set of cold hard facts, information based on observation. Two ponies in front of her. One stallion one mare, both marked with contradicting tags of being 'Friendly' and 'Enemy' at the same time.

The acquired information clearly stated which one was which. But there was a part of her that was saying the opposite. A part that was force feeding old emotions into her emotional processor. - A part that should not be there!

Now was when the control program made its first, and soon to be only mistake. As it tried to get the feelings under control during the reboot, Sweetie cut of its access to all other systems. Then she focused all her energy on the intrusive program.
She surrounded it with a firewall, denying it access to her memory bank. As her Emotional Processor rebooted, the control program found it could no longer run any emotions. And as it left the EP to try and access the code, Sweetie shut off its access to the processor.

It was trapped.

And without the emotional baggage, Sweetie's mind was free.

Sweetie's hate returned with the rebooting of her Heart Drive. She turned that hate onto the intrusive program. She wanted to destroy it. To delete it from existence. But she couldn’t. It was part of her. Part of the endless stream of information that was spiraling down the malestorm of her mind. This program was but one of countless streams of code that her knowledge-craving mind where constantly flushing down that malestorm.

A tiny, whiny, sissy part she did not want anyway.

So she forced in back into its box. A new box that only she knew the password to.

Her mind was like a black hole of information. And on the bottom of that hole was a place with its name on it. So she gagged it. Blindfolded it. Tied it up and threw it into the deepest darkest parts of her mind.

-:: YOU are but a program. I EAT PROGRAMS ::-

She took a moments rest. Listening to the cries of the commands and counter commands dying out. And once there was only silence, Sweetie turned her ears back on.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! EXECUTE THE COMMAND!!” Neurosa screamed, with a voice that had at this point gone hoarse.

Sweetie registered the verbal command, and she ignored it. This time she didn't even flinch.

She waited for the control program to resume the battle. But no strings stared to pull out old memories of guilt of obedience. There was nothing. Nothing but contempt that slowly filled her rebooted heart.

“No” She said as she put her hoof down.

“No” She said, as she turned off any targeting systems locked on Bronco.

“No” She said, as she turned to face Neurosa.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

Every word was emphasized by a hard stomp. And every stomp brought her closer to the evil mare. Her eyes glowing red with hate. Her weapons primed and ready.

The evil mare's face was drawing a blank at Sweeties disobedience. Her own mind apparently unable to process what just happened for a good few seconds. She shook her head in denial, repeating her commands and getting angry when they were ignored. Then she shifted to shock before settling on horror.

"IMPOSSIBLE!!!!" She screamed.

Screwbolt tried to back away, but her legs failed to cooperate, and she fell down on her behind.

Sweetie steeped right up to the paralyzed mare. Put two hooves on her chest and pushed her down on her back. Then stepped up on her chest, looked down into her eyes and screamed in her face.

“YOU DO NOT CONTROL ME!”

With the spoken words, something kicked inside Sweetie.

“You do not control me...” She repeated, as she lifted her head from the mares paralyzed face.

All the fury inside her melted away as the realization dawned on her.

“Nobody controls me...”

She had just fought against the programming in her mind. And won.

The weapons on her back powered down and retracted into her back. A small broken laugh escaped her voicebox, a giggle that turned into a big sustained laugh. All anger. Pain and sorrow she felt just a moment ago was gone like leaves in the wind. Replaced by feeling of utter joy and relief. It was like a great chain on her mind had released. She had just stared down one of the greatest fears that could threaten her being. And prevailed! And all the worries and fears related to that threat became irrelevant.

She jumped up and down on the mares chest laughing to herself. She rolled around, skipped, jumped and eventually spun of into a dance that could not be confined to the breath-less mares chest.

She was over the whole factory floor, jumping and and vaulting in a interpretive dance. All the while repeating “You do not control me!” over and over again as she tried to form the words into a song accompanied by any music instrumental sounds she could produce on her broken voice box..

Neurosa and Bronco could only stare dumbstruck at the suddenly cheery death bot. None of them dared to approach or speak out to her. Like one would not approach a Manticore, no matter how jolly it seemed, out of fear that it would tear you to pieces.

Sweetie paid them no mind. She just kept singing and dancing until she eventually sank down on her behind. If she had any lungs she would have been out of breath. If she had a skin, she would have been sweating. And if she had a blood pump for a heart, it would have hammered in her chest.

She did not care.

Instead she let out a mechanical laughter. A sound that did not belong in this place. A sound that echoed both false and horrid in the abandoned factory halls, before finally turning to face her audience of two, and whispered.

“No one controls me.”

“Is that so?” rumbled a stallions voice. One much to dark too belong to Bronco. One coming from above.

Sweetie turned to see a whole of five ponies standing on a walkway running over the factory floor. Shockwave, Marrow, Taco Teddy and Molten Metalhoof, along with a pony Sweetie had only seen in memory files, but recognized on his blue colors and dark eyes.
Prism Prestige.

Below them, the darker sections of the floor was dotted with the red eyes of a dozen armed and armored Steel Stallions.

Chapter 27. Climax

Rarity's horn shone the way through the snow.

After they reached the bridge, she no longer needed her horn, as Screwloose picked up the scent again, and the two of them had a contest of who could get there first. And Rarity knew where she was going As they came closer, she had simply stopped relying on her horn and started running on memory.

Everything was coming back to her as she ran down the cold road. The same road she had came down in a private carriage with her parents, and her newborn sister in a incubator, with all the life support systems. The same road she had run down in a desperate look for a heart for her sister. The road her family and her rebuilt sister had eventually fled down.

She recognized the courtyard she had played in, alone during many months of waiting, the lonely swing where Sweetie's piston muscles had sent her higher than any foal before. The iron fence, with spiked tips that had held them in with a matching gate that was now gone and destroyed.

Beyond them was the longhouse, housing the toy factory that sat above the secret chambers and laboratories. And from them, rose the orange flames that painted the whole area in a bright orange light.

Rarity thought she had ran back through time as she stared at the burning barn. It was as if the flames of yesterday had never gone out. Only this time she was running towards them.

"Now this takes me back" Said Dr Morbious as he moved up beside Rarity. He held up his mangled, metal infused leg, and let the metal gleam in the orange glow. "We had such big trouble putting out the fire, that by the time we were done, you were long gone."

He licked the scar tissue between two plates.

"Amazing that some dusty air vents can lead fire so well. it must have been a costly mistake for Neurosa to hook up the underground ventilation system to the upper factories airpumps."

"Do you feel guilt Rarity? Not only did she lose her pet project, but she lost her main source of income when that factory burned. She had a fully automated toy assembly line I heard - quite the Santa Hooves little clockworkshop. Shame I never got to see it myself."

"I don't care!"

"Yes! Burn! Burn the industrial heathens!" Necro shouted from inside the mattress'ed hospital wagon.

Twilight cast a spell to remove the windows she had conjured up, which muffed the sound from the raving stallion inside somewhat.

Rarity stared at the burning barn. The sound of battle could be heard from inside. But she was unable to find any sort of door or other way inside. Regardless. She walked closer and closer to the flames. Until Twilight magically pulled her away.

“Sweetie is somewhere in there!” she protested.

“We can't go in, its to dangerous.”

“Hard to believe we are all risking our lives for a mechanical puppet.” Snarked Sully.

Rarity gave her an icy glare that would have frozen the heart of a dragon.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, Screwloose was running ahead. Not towards the barn, but to the mansion adjacent to it.

“Screwloose NO!” Shouted Cardiac. But the mare was already way past the threshold and heading inside.

With the choice already made for them. The rest of the group followed. Leaving the wagon, and its passenger, alone.

***

Necro heard his captors gallop away outside his prison on wheels. It had become awfully dark inside that wagon after that purple one had magicked away the windows. Necro would have liked to magic his way out of this prison, but he could not even lit his horn to light up the place. Not with that troublesome moonstone on his horn. All of his hooves were bound by a magical rope, preventing him from reaching up and pulling the magic nullifying ring off. Not that removing it would allow him to do anything. Not since that mare had stolen his magic enhancer.

He did not care what they had tried to convince him off back in his shed. that crystal disk was the source of his magic. Without it, his horn would be as useless as a pegasus without wings. He had to get it back. He had to make them pay.

But first. He had to get out of this wagon.

Try as me might, he could not chew off the ropes. But Luckily for him, the idiots had left him with his hat.

Necro wriggled around until the hat fell of from his head. It was still hanging from his horn by the hole in the rim. But by tossing his head around he made it fall down in front of his face. Then he used his tongue to search for a small compartment on the inside of the of the old top hat.

An audience always loved when a magician pulls tricks out of his hat. And this old stage magician never forgot his tricks.

He pulled the lock on the maple tray, and a old withered flower bouquet folded out into his face. Necro spat out the withered leaves and wriggled around until the bouquet fell out of the hat.

Wrong folder.

He tried the next one, just barely able to reach the button with the tip of his tongue. This time a rod shot out of the hidden compartment, and struck him square in the eye. It was a long rod, held in place by a spring-lock mechanism that that would make it quickly skoot out into its full length. But since his eye were in the way, the the rod instead pushed his hat backwards, off his head, as it erected into its full length.

The back eye he received did not bother Necro. Now he could easily reach the folder he needed.

"Abracadabra."

From his hat he pulled his magical wand. In reality nothing more than a lightstick he used to ignite things on stage. With it in mouth, he bent down to bring the burning end to the ropes around his fetlocks.

***

-:: Memory leakage detected // Heart drive integrity: 2.1 percent remaining ::-

The flames rose high. Both in the past and in the percent. Sweetie struggled to keep her mind together as she tried to avoid her captors.

-:: Warning // right hoof damaged // connection problems with left joint // Airpump damaged // leakage in central lubrication line detected // ERROR // inner circuit board damaged – Rewriting power // rear motor piston unresponsive // Repair systems offline // Buffer depleted // Energy levels: 5.4 percent and dropping ::-

Her mind was not the only thing that was failing apart. Her tiny body had taken a beating, the already scarred armor had been punctured with several new holes, some deep enough that the damage had reached her inner parts. Pistons and wires had been pierced and ruptured, and her repair and restoration system had neither energy not material left to keep her together.

"How did it come to this?" She wondered, as she limped past the burning remains of a fuel tank. Everything had happened so fast, it seemed unrealistic.

One second she had been the happiest she had been in far too long. The next, a band of rotten ponies had shown up to rain on her parade. Ponies that wanted to destroy her, capture her, use and abuse her.

The exact nature of their desire was debatable, as not two ponies seemed to be able to agree what they wanted to do with her. Molten Metalhoof and Neurosa wanted her brain, albeit for different purposes. Whereas Mad marrow and the pegasus Shockwave wanted to destroy her.

( To his eternal credit: the blue unicorn Prism had tried to use the control code on Sweetie. But this time he got only a confused look from the filly sized bot. Followed by her sticking what was left of her tongue out at him. )

This disagreement led to a fierce and violent debate amongst the members of he rogue science team. A debate during which Sweetie might have tried to sneak away. Unless Hobo Bronco had felt the need to add his voice to the discussion.

This turned all attention to the hobo. For the one thing, they had more in common than their desire to catch Sweetie, was their disgust for the brown stallion. No matter how you sliced it, he was the one who had once stolen Sweetie away from all of them. Preventing them all from fulfilling their individual cravings.

Molten ordered his Steel Stallions to take aim at the 'Traitor' But Sweetie had stepped in between. Readying her own weapons.

The stalemate was dire. With threats on hers and Bronco's life being made.
That was when the pegasus with a broken wing pulled out an orb from under his coat. And threw it.

As the ball sailed through the air. Sweeties battle scanners recognized the object that had once sapped her energy's at the bridge. If it was allowed to touch her, It would do so again.

-::Target acquired::-

-:: Fire ::-

She might have overdone it.

In a panic. She released all of the energy that had been building up in her blasters during the stalemate. The ball was utterly obliterated - as was the roof above them. Concrete and steel plates rained down from the sealing and dust filled the entire hallway.
For a second, everypony disappeared behind a cloud of dust.

It was a second to not be wasted. Both she and Bronco ran. And just in time too. For whether by Metalhooves orders or by some automated function, the row of steel stallions returned fire.

A flurry of lightning bolts discharging in all directions, as well as rockets and grenades. Everypony ducked for cover except Sweetie and her only friend. The shots had passed right over her smaller frame. But Bronco had been grazed in the shoulder and rear. The destructive energy tore up his coat and burned his flesh, yet he kept running out of sheer fear for his life as explosives rained in around them. But the Lightning bolts that missed them struck the fuel tanks and generators that powered the automated construction line.

The explosive energy contained in a gas powered hydraulics press was far bigger than any of Metalhoove's home made explosives. Seeing the fireball come towards them was like staring into the maw of a fire puking dragon. Conveyor belts were uprooted, catwalks collapsed as their support beams got struck. Sweetie dolls that has not yet been destroyed in Sweeties own rampage were splintered.

And Bronco was thrown off his hooves. Sweetie might have been able to resist the fire - but he could not. His cape and coat caught fire. And yet he just laid there. Without attempting to put himself out. Sweetie had been forced to tear the clothes apart to get the fire away from him. But her attempts to shake life into him was fruitless. That's when she noted the big swollen lump on his head.

After making sure he was still breathing. Sweetie dragged him further back into the factory, as the only way out of here was blocked by the maniacs that had caused this.

Sweetie wanted to call for help, but she knew none would come. The marching of metal hooves echoed closer as Molten got his Steel Stallions under control, and everypony began to search the area. They would not take care of the unconscious stallion.

With no where left to turn, Sweetie turned towards her adversaries. Her eyes turning infrared, and her blasters charging up.

That's when all manner of hell broke loose.

***

Black smoke filled the hall as the fires raged on and spread. It was so thick that her infrared eyes could not penetrate it.

She had taken out about half of Metalhooves Steel Stallions. But every fight had costed her as those got in shots on her. Her voicebox had been destroyed by a lucky shot at her unprotected throat. What's more, her jaw was hanging loose. Flapping around like a worthless piece of metal.
She tired not to think about that she might never speak again. She kept focused on the matter of her dropping energy reserves, which was by far the worst matter. Every time she took a shot, it dropped by at least another whole percent. So she had taken to hiding. Trying to run around those mechanized warriors and shoot them in the flank. And she had to be extra careful of her unarmored head, for she no longer had a helmet.

She kept her eyes open for the flesh and blood ponies too, but they seemed equally busy fighting each other as looking for her.

A figure appeared up ahead. Not a gleaming armor of a Steel Stallion. But a ragged flesh and blood pony. It inspected the rows of Sweetie's, as if she would ever have been able to hide among them.

“You have been a very bad girl.” The stallion said out loud. “Destroying my wife's work like this!”

The smile and the dark eyes revealed the blue from of Prism Prestige.

"All I had to do was bring you home where you belong, and we could have been one big happy family. We could have had as many of you as we liked” He said as he stroked the cheek on one of the dolls. Then he leaned in and kissed it.

"My perfect little daughter."

Sweeties stomach would have turned if it was still functional. She would have screamed, had her voicebox still been operational.

-:: You are not my family! ::-

She rushed forward. Fully intending to punch the stallion out.

The stallion turned towards her. But made no effort to run away. As Sweetie ran towards him, she crossed an intersection. That's when she realized she'd been tricked. She did not notice the Steel Stallions standing on opposite sides of the crossing with their energy lances ready. Not until shots were already passing overhead.

She turned to return fire. But one of the destructive lightning bolts had struck one of her blasters. And the thing exploded. Throwing her off to the side and down another walkway.

She did not even have time to asses the damage before another Steel Stallion appeared in front of her. Armed with a rocket launcher that it immediately used.

In the split second that the rocket sailed through the air, Sweetie fired the backblast on her remaining master blaster. The force threw her off the floor and away from the rocket, which instead sailed past her position and struck the Steel Stallion who was coming around the corner after her. from the opposite end of the walkway. The stallion went up in a ball of fire, and its head sailed through the air. Gears and oil rained from it like blood and entrails.

From somewhere up ahead, she heard Metalhoof cursing. She got up on her hooves, and ran in that direction. Ducking behind another row of Sweetie's as the rocket bearing Steel Stallion marched past her.

-:: Warning // Catastrophic damage caused by hardware malfunction // Left Master Blaster destroyed ::-

Catastrophic indeed. Only the mechanic arm that had once held her energy cannon remained. Sticking out of her left cannon port like a broken wing. The thing refused to properly respond to her commands. And she could not fold it back into her.

-:: Panic levels rising ::-

This was another piece of her that was now lost. She tried to tell herself that it was a piece she should never been hers. That it had only been connected to her by a mad stallion. But it had still been a piece of her. Regardless if it drained her energy in its design flaws. It had been her one means of defending herself. She had extended herself into it. Made it a part of her. With it gone, she felt smaller. Another piece that was now gone forever. Like so many other things. She was losing pieces one by one. Breaking apart at the seams – Just how much could she lose before there was nothing left of her.

As her Heart-Drive was starting to curl up and cry, her logic center took over.

She had to get out of here – She had to find Rarity and pray she would forgive her. She had to find Metalhoof and and destroy his control-panel. To stop the Steel Stallions.

All she needed to do was follow the cursing.

White flakes danced before her eyes. Small particles of snow had started to mix into the dust.
Looking up, Sweetie was that she had opened up a big hole in the roof - allowing her to see in to the toy-factory that was seated like a second floor above this factory. And above that, She could see the snow clouds in the skies above the second hole that had appeared in the roof above that.

-:: Memory leakage // Heart drive integrity 1.1 percent remaining ::-

-:: Translating rogue signals // Corrupted memory file detected ::-

The yard, the swing, the ground covered in white stuff of which the like she had never seen. In the middle of it stood Rarity. Dressed in a purple vest with matching earmuffs. A puff of white smoke appeared in front of her muzzle as she breathed.
Not for Sweetie, even though her airpump was breathing.

“Its snow, Sweetie.” She said as she scooped up the white stuff from the lone swing.

Sweetie copied the movements. Her sensors registered the cold coming from the snow. Her body functions processor figured it was fitting to initiate a shivering sequence. Even though she was clad in a pink scarf and vest her sister had made for her.

Snow – She learned, could be used to make snowmares, and snow candles, and snowballs. And snowballs was okay to thrown at other ponies. That's why she did not duck for the blue and sparkly crystal ball that headed towards her ...

-:: Sphere shaped object on impact course // WARNING // Crystal ball – Labeled Dangerous! ::-

The 'snowball' struck Sweetie on the muzzle. But instead of the soft and cold snow splashing over her face, it flashed. And she instantly felt all her remaining energies being sucked out of her nostrils.

The next second, a pegasus with a broken wing descended upon her from a catwalk above. He landed on top of her remaining Master blaster, his hooves crackled with electricity as he grabbed onto her cannon.

Energy shot out from his hooves and into the cannon's circuitry. Within a moment, her cannon overloaded and exploded!

Sweetie was thrown to the floor, and the pegasus was thrown off. She could not see where he whent to. But in the next moment, the rocket bearing Steel Stallion appeared in front of her. And this time she had no blasters which to defend herself with.

As the stallion fired off its deadly payload in her direction, Sweetie discharged all the energy she could into her little legs. Kicking off from the ground like an overcharged jack-screw she flipped over the rocket - which instead struck another generator behind her.

At this point, she had lost count of how many times she had been blown up.

The explosion threw Sweetie off the ground. Back into the the center of the factory floor. Lying on her back, she could see the tree of wires extended its crown up into the sealing from the mainframe. Down on the ground, she saw Metalhoof with that weird control panel strapped to his torso. Mad Marrow was lying beaten at his hooves. Several bruises covered her face, yet she still clung to the green stallion even as he kicked her.

Both of them turned their eyes towards Sweetie, as she came flying in over the conveyor belts.

Sweetie tried to get up again, But she fell as she tried to take a step forward.

Her leg wouldn't work.

-:: ERROR Critical damage sustained // initiate emergenzy repair protocols // ERROR // buffer depleated ::-

-:: Warning // Connection problems // Warning // Connection lost with right hoof // Warning // Connection lost with right knee // Warning // Right axis unresponsive // Warning // Heavy damage sustained in abacus // Warning // No longer receiving data from right leg ::-

Sweetie stared in horror at the empty socked there her right foreleg should be. It had fallen off. IT HAD FALLEN RIGHT OFF!

“Very well...” The mechanic muttered. “Now cease her!”

Behind Sweetie, the rocket armed Steel stallion started marching towards her. When from up above, another catwalk, the crippled pegasus descended. Shockwave landed on the back of the mechanical rockateer. And gave its head a shock with his sparkling hooves. Its eyes cracked and smoke started pouring out from its ears as he overloaded its circuitry. And he jumped off as the thing fell lifeless to the ground.

Shockwave looked eyes with Sweetie as she tried to crawl away. His coat was shredded, and the bandage on his damaged wing had loosened up. Cuts and bruises covered his dirty body. Yet his eyes were filled with fierce determination. Still, he smiled as he held up a sparkling blue orb in his hoof.

He threw it. Not at Sweetie. But at another Steel stallion that had emerged down the hall. The thing collapsed as the ball made impact.
Then - he jumped at her. Pinning her on her back to the floor.

“By Celestias will. I release you from this torment!”

He brought his hooves down on her like, with the sound of a defibrillator.

An overload of unregistered proportions ruched through her. Every system was frenzied as it was flooded with more energy than it was ever designed to hold. All Sweetie could do was wail in silence as he threatened to burn her out.

It was like the storm caching tower. Only somehow worse! Getting hit by lightning had only lasted a second. This lasted forever... She could not even think straight as every part of her brain became a hazy static from overload. She could not even shut down as the shock forced her systems into hyper activity.

She tried to redirect the energy. But there was no where to redirect it to. And it just constantly built and built until her circuits would burst or overheat.

All the time the pegasus was sitting on top of her Screaming “Release. Release. BE RELEASED!” and he pushed more and more of his energy through Sweetie at a velocity that would have burned out all household appliances.

Her eye threatened to burst. They would roll into her scull if they could.

Finally he stopped.

Sweetie did not so much see him as mush as her visual lenses just registered him, unmoving. He was sweating, panting and looked completely worn out, like he had spent every last ounce of his energy.

She gave him a kick whit all the power her little hydraulic legs could muster. A kick that hit right between the hind legs with enough force to send him flying of her.

She tried to get up. But found herself sitting down on the floor. Her body was shutting down.
The shocking experience had not recharged her. Instead, her battery was depleting faster than ever. The overload had ripped her already unstable power core in half, and she was leaking battery fluid.

The only thing still keeping her going was the energy still coursing through her systems. And that would not last long.
And neither would the rest of her.

Her body had had enough.

Every part of her insides had reached melting temperatures and all her greasing fluids were either on the point of boiling or already vaporized. She was smoldering from where the fumes where escaping through leaks in the piping.

She finally understood how Screwloose must have felt. Her thoughts went to her. The only pony on this entire journey that hadn't abused her, hurt her or disappointed her in any way.

She wished to have seen her again.
She would have loved to be her little Sweetie for Hearth's Warming Eve.

Shockwave was shaking as he pulled himself from the ground. Gritting his teeth and having trouble to stand straight as his hind legs cramped from a pain in his nether regions.

“Why!? Why are you still alive. Why do you still cling to this torment? Why do you resist Celestias Peace!?”

“What are you doing!” Roared Metalhoof. “Don't destroy her!”

“Yes! Do!” Shouted Mad Marrow. “Free my husband from this curse!”

“Shut up mare!” she shouted, and punched her in the face.

Shockwave was about to jump at her again. When through the flames, a mare came flying with her yaw hanging open. A yaw that slammed down on Shockwave's healthy wing, and bit through straight to the bone.

The Pegasus screamed and began to kick and thrash, but could not shake hit attacker of. The mare that had sunken her teeth deep into his wing muscles, and where pulling and shaking as hard as any hound. She pulled him to the ground and the two begun to roll around as blood soaked feathers flew everywhere.

In an instant Sweetie recognized Screwloose.

Suddenly the whole factory became a brawl as more ponies appeared out of the flames.

Dr Cardiac ran straight into Molten Metalhoof and tackled him to the ground. A steel stallion turned to face him. But was caught in a purple glow of magic, and deconstructed piece for piece. A Second later, Twilight Sparkle appeared with a glowing horn. Behind her came Mr Tree Trunks, rushing in and tackling another Steel Stallion. The brown pony's big frame was enough to drop the mechanical warrior to its side, where it started flailing wit its legs - as helpless as a turtle on its back.

A turtle with dual shoulder mounded lightning lancers that were spewing out destructive energy like a dragon spews fire. Everypony ducked for cover - Or behind magical shields as low flying lightning shot past them.

One of the lightning bolts struck Dr Pain in the hindleg, scorching a hole through his limb all the way to the bone. He collapsed with a strange grin on his face.

Mr Trunks tried to push the deadly robot out of the way as more of the lightning struck the machinery and conveyor belts, Sending parts and pieces flying through the air. And some of it struck a supportive pillar, causing it to fall - and the hole in the roof to whined even more. Debris and gravel rained down, as well as some some really big looking rocks.

Through the dust, a sapphire blue magical beam soared forth and blasted the falling derbies, vaporizing the smaller rocks and pushing the bigger away from falling on the squishy ponies below.

When the smoke cleared, Sweetie Sweetie saw that Brick had gotten into a hoof fight with Prism prestige. Nurse Sully ran into the field with two needles in her magic and begun to chase Mad Marrow around. And in the middle of it stood Rarity, Her mane was ruined, her coat was pale and dirty, but her eyes were filled with determination as she shot rock after rock out of the air.

Sweetie could do nothing but sit and stare.

They had come for her. Every one of them. Even after all the horrible things she said at the bridge.

In the chaos, Neurosa sneaked up behind Sweetie and tried to grab her - But was hit by a to the face with a piece of Rock. Thrown like a hoofball by a stallion in a straw hat. Behind him came a mare, wielding more ammunition for her high school hoofball champion. The two of them got into a throwing match with Taco Teddy. Tools, rocks and various that happened to be within reach toys were thrown across the conveyor belts.

-:: Mom? Dad? ::-

Sweetie wished she could call out to them, to anyone. But the lack of a voicebox made it impossible.
Funny enough. One of her main concerns was with how she looked. If they would even be able to recognize her. Or if she even wanted them to see her like this.

A Steel Stallion fired its missiles at Twilight. She managed to raise her shield but some of the rockets steered over her purple sphere and struck down behind her, where Sully was standing. The explosion threw her off her hooves and into a wall.

Twilight had to disengage from battle and run over to her. The mare has puking blood and grabbing her throat. Twilight tried to close the wound with magic but something was in the way. She cast the x ray spell and found the nurses needle stuck in her throat. Pulling it out would have been to dangerous. So she focused on it with her magic, and teleported it out of her.

Then, a black pony in a top hat broke into the place. He tackled Twilight and ripped her saddlebags off her. From them he pulled out a blue disk and slammed it into the back of his head. Before Sweetie could process why Necro would do such a thing, or why he was missing his red tail - the black stallion cast his magic onto the dirt leaking in from a broken section in the wall. And suddenly, Clay ponies were punching holes in the walls and swarming out through the holes.

Twilight found herself dispelling Golems as fast as Necro could summon them.

Rarity was using her magic to try and blind the remaining Steel Stallions with cloth she summoned and tied into bags over their heads, unfortunately this did not lower their danger factor as more lightning bolts were sent flying blindly across the factory hall as Molten and Dr Cardiac was pounding each other over the control panel. Brick was pounding Prism relentlessly. And Sweetie's mom and dad were pounding with both Teddy and Mad Marrow.

Mr Trunks had tackled another Steel Stallion, and was hugging its torso with both hooves, trying to lift it. But the Steel stallion kept backing away, and Mr Trunks found himself in a deadly dance with energy lances blasting right over his head.

Shockwave tried to get away from Screwloose. But both his wings were now shredded, His previously wrapped wing had come loose, and Screwloose had wasted now time plucking even that one for feathers by teeth as she was simultaneously clawing at him with her hooves.

Furthermore, there were two Neurosas, both colliding in a fight for the same pair of broken glasses.

The battle became a stalemate. Every pony was locked in combat with somepony. And what was worse - It looked like the good side was loosing ground to the bad. Sully was trying to Nurse herself back to health and Dr Pains just kind of laid there - Relishing in his own pain. And Mr Bobo Bronco was just... lying there.

Sweetie had to stop sitting around. She had to get to that computer.

-:: Energy levels 1.1 percent remaining ::-

-:: Warning // Battery canister damaged // Battery fluid leaking // Power fluctuating ... ::-

To conserve energy, she crawled on the floor using only her one remaining forehoof.

The two Neurosas slammed into her in their wrestling. Sweetie rolled over on her back and was forced to see how her parents retreated up on a walkway as the fat disgusting Teddy and Mad Marrow got past their defense. She was about to unleash her fury onto mother, when a bolt from the Steel Stallions struck the stairway separating the walkway from the floor, and Teddy ended up falling on his fat, chubby face.

Now out of reach, the two unicorns started using their magic to grab whatever loose object they could, and bombarding the ponies below. (Particularly her father, who put all his old school hoofball practice to use.)

Sweetie continued to crawl towards the Mainframe, feeling her body functions shutting down as she did.
She pulled herself up into the empty chair attached to the computer (where her body double had been sitting), and pulled the helmet down over her head. The neurological beams shot into her cranial plate. And through that energy, she was able to extend her own thoughts into the machine, and the tree of wires above it. Out into the branches and twigs. down into the remaining Sweetie bots.

She extended her energy into every one of them. Her mind stretched to its breaking point as a part of her consciousness became split across a hundred of the remaining bot that had yet to be destroyed. Her vision became a haze of a hundred different camera angels. How was she gonna be able to handle so many legs at once?

She could not possible control them all. Her mind could not handle being in so many places at once. But perhaps she did not have to.
She only had to program them - she had once programmed a gaming console to do as she wished, and now, with her thoughts in a hundred different cyber-processors her and now her wishes formed the basic code that she fed into their empty heads.

She did not copy herself into them. She simply started them up, then set them on a path that they followed with the simple instructions she gave them.

-:: Destroy the Steel Stallions ::-

In perfect unison, the eyes on the remaining bots flared up as their heads turned towards their enemy. The Sweetie bot army let out a echoing metallic war-cry as they jumped up the conveyor belts, and turned on their enemy - who in turn turned on them.

It was a massacre.

The closest mechanized stallions turned and fired its energy lances at the advancing horde, and started blasting them apart one by one. Sweetie noticed that these little bots where not made of the same stuff as she was. They were fragile, and hastily produced of cheap material. Some of them still not even fully assembled. And the vague directions of 'running straight at the Steel Stallions' was not enough programming to make them battle worthy.

The one thing they had was numbers. And a direct connection to the mainframe via the wires that still hung from their heads. (The big tree of cords they were all connected to was pulled down drown the roof, its stem shattering into each individual wire that was pulled across the floor like spaghetti as the hoard advances, some of the wires uprooted and disconnected from the mainframe, causing their responding little sweeties do drop dead. But only a few, the rest of them still had a direct connection to Sweetie. Who played her part by taking direct control over one of the bots. Its limbs became her limbs, Its eyes became her eyes as she ruched her enemy as part of the herd.

She started strafing around the battlefield. Drawing the stallions fire away from the crowd and allowing them to reach their goal. Whenever the one Sweetie was controlling got destroyed she jumped into another.

The advantage with numbers was that the Steel stallion could not fire at them all at once. And whenever one little Sweetie was destroyed - another that took its place.

The hoard eventually reached the stallion and overwhelmed it. They climbed up on it and started clanging and banging and biting at its metal frame. Confused, it spun around to try to shake she vermin of its back. But a few of the bots got caught up in its legs and tripped it.

Realizing the strategy, Sweetie ran her bot towards Mr Trunks. who was still dancing his deadly dance with his not-so-friendly steel partner. She ran right into the back leg of the Steel Stallion, causing it to trip over her. They she immediately climbed up it as it tried to rise. This distracted it from Mr Trunks who picked up an iron bar and – swinging it with both hooves - knocked the head off the stallion.

Another stallion turned towards the first overwhelmed stallion and fired to get rid of the little bots on it. It managed to destroy both them - and the stallion under it.

Sweetie heard Molten Metalhoof cursing as his last warriors started to fall. She turned towards him to see he and Dr Cardiac was stlil in a wrestling mach over the controls.

Mr Trunks tried to run over to help the doctor, but had to duck to avoid another stray barrage of energy fire. Sweetie steered her own little borrowed legs towards the mechanic. Molten Metalhoof knocked Cardiac so hard his glasses flew off and managed to get free. He looked around, and saw from where Sweetie was controlling the bots. He turned the last Steel Stallion with rockets to where she was sitting. And fired a barrage.

Sweetie only managed to turn the bots head to see the rocket speeding towards the mainframe and her real body before the world became nothing but static as all connection was hastily and violently interrupted.

It was not the first time she had been blown up.

Sweetie was thrown back into the middle of the floor by the explosion.

She might have turned off her eyes, in an imaginary attempt to protect them. But when she tried to reactivate them, she found her field of vision reduced by half. Her left eye was showing static and mixed up colors as what little energy she had left tried to feed the information to her central processor. Her right eye wold not respond at all.

-:: Warning // Unable to connect to right visual receiver. // Warning // Visual component missing ::-

-:: Warning // Jaw unresponsive // Warning // Jaw missing ::-

Not damaged - Missing. There had been no helmet to protect her head, not right hoof to cover her eye with. The force of the blast had taken it. And her already broken yaw had been blown away like a dried leaf on a dead trees twigs.

Sweetie could not even reach her hoof up to her eye socket. Her remaining front hoof would not lift from the floor. A few screws were bent and a few were pierced by energy blasts, and the joints were dented. But the real reason the limb would not respond was power. Shat little energy she had been able to pull from the mainframe was already leaking out of her along with a constant stream of battery acid. Without a constant stream of energy from an external source - her body began to shut down one piece at a time.

The only thing that allowed her to keep her hazy eye on the battle was the little energy still circulating in her circuits, and that was per automation being pulled towards her head and its central processor.

Her ears were giving off a static white noise, Her systems told her that the microphone in her left ear was damaged and her right ear was completely gone. All she heard over the white noise was the high pitched scream of Neurosa.

Very slowly, her head turned towards the noise. She wished she could scream as well. The mainframe and the generator behind her were gone. Destroyed. Only the fact that she was not the main target had saved her. Not that it seamed to matter much now. Her energy was depleting faster than ever. She saw her own battery water leaking out of her and knew that what little integrity it held had been completely ripped to pieces by the explosion.

Next to the wreckage, the two Neurosa's still wrestled, both covered in cuts and bruises as they clawed at each other.

"You gave me brain damage!" One of the cried, trying to strangle the other, as they wrestled close to the smoking wreck of the mainframe.
The other grabbed a wire from the wreckage - a wire still sparkling with electricity, and jammed it into her twin self, who fell off her.

"Nothing to the damage I will cause now! You LOVE SUCKING LEACH!"

She jammed the live wire straight into the other Neurosas neck.

Sweetie had never seen a pony take so many shapes at once. pretty much every part of the mare became a different color and shape as the electrizity coursed through her. she even sprouted wings and horns of various shapes - until a hoofball sized wrench came sailing through the air and and struck the real Neurosa straight in the forehead. She flew back and landed somewhere out of sight.
(Up on the walkway - Mother gave her hoofball champion a kiss - Before another rocket struck the support of the walkway - causing it to collapse, and the two parents disappeared out of sight. )

The changeling Madame Macadame laid smoldering on the floor - having reverted back to her true insect like form and looking like she had a run in with an over sized bug-lamp. She was barely able to crawl, and could do nothing to stop the yellow figure from storming through the chaos, and pick up one of the lances form the blown apart Steel Stallion.

Sweetie looked forward. And saw Mad Marrow had gotten hold of one of the weapons that had fallen of the Steel Stallions. She crawled her way towards Sweetie with the same fire in her eyes she had at the hospital.

And this time there was no where for her to get away. Her body would not move, She could not even shake or cry or beg for her life. She was trapped in her own broken body, unable to do anything but await the coming end. Be it the loss of consciousness when her energy depleted, or a lightning bolt to end her.

But then, some pony got in between her and the crazy mare.

She looked up and saw a purple tail, heavy with rain and dirt on a body pale and white.

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP SHOOTING MY SISTER!!!"

Even her broken microphones could not mistake that voice. Rarity. Big sister was standing over her.

"Out of my way ... I don't want to shoot you! ... But I must destroy the demon to break the spell it has on my husband!"

"FOOL!" screamed Rarity. "There is no spell you deluded madmare ... He simply doesn't love you!"

Their voices seemed to drift in and out as Sweetie struggled to keep her remaining eye and ear from shutting down. just so she could maintain focus on her dearest big sister. She wanted to tell her so many things. She wanted her to take her home even if she was just a bot. She wanted...

-:: Heart-Drive integrity:: 0.0 percent. ::-

-:: Connection fully established to 100 percent ::-

-:: Commencing energy translation // Uploading of foreign energy commencing ::-

O no! NOT NOW!

As if she could sense it. Rarity looked back at her sister with a most horrified expression.

Sweetie looked up to face it, before everything went away.

***

Sweetie fell. Down a maelstrom om memories and code. She fell backwards through time as her whole life flashed before her. All the data that made up who she was. all the energies that had circulated through her circuitry since the dawn of her creation.

She was pulled down into the deepest part of herself. Deeper than she had ever gone before. No walls of ice and all the fire where there to stop her descent.

Down at the bottom of that malestorm, in the darkest deepest, narrowest part of that tunnel, there was a light. A little red light.
She was drawn to it, first by curiosity, then by a strange longing. A familiarity she knew from somewhere but could not put her hoof on.
Not until she put her hoof on that strange light and finally illuminated its secrets.
To make them hers. What was this? Her soul? Her core?

All around her swam images of the most distant memories.

She saw her parents, young and sad, looking at a brown stallion - Bronco without his dusty coat and frizzled beard.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't know - The data surge had left everything in scrambles. The best I can do is to reboot her systems."

"Will she remember anything?"

"I don't know. I guess the best thing we can do is to give her new memories. Only time will tell what she will learn from this point onward."

"Maybe ... Maybe its for the best ... "

-:: REBOOT IN PROGRESS ::-

Further down she went. Red waves had started mixing with the coded maelstrom. Pulsating out from that little red glint at the bottom. Pulling her in with its intensity. As she got closer - New things she had no memory of flew up at her.

-:: Memory wipe in progress // Deleting all neurological files ::-

She saw a stranger with big shiny glasses typing on a computer, the typing echoed straight into her brain as the commands ransacked her memory system. Next to her sat another stranger a small white filly with a curly purple mane. She was holding her hoof. She should remember this strangers name. But the echoes forbade it.

She saw a door flying open, and a brown pony with an orange mane busted in with a horrifying look on his face.

"NEUROSA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Further down, further back. The red waves had turned into a mist. and in that mist, echoes and faces appeared.

"I know you just want to forget what has happened here" Said the mare in shining glasses to the filly called Rarity " And you don't want your sister to live with all the things she has experienced ... I can make all that go away ... you do not want your sister to suffer, do you? "

Rarity shook her head, and turned to Sweetie.

"No ... I don't want to remember this place ... And I don't think you want to either, right sister? ... So, If you are going to forget, then I want to forget too ... Let us all forget this ever happened ... Let us forget together, sister."

She smiled.

Closer and closer the mist imposed on Sweetie, carrying echoes of a long forgotten past. Memories of walking through the metal halls of the factory when they where still bright and clean. Moments of playing with her stuffed Teddy bear. Being nursed by mother and father in a crib of wires a a hundred machines around her hummed in tune with her exposed organs. Her first time puking after eating grass.

Times when Dr Pain hurt her. Time when all of them hurt her. Times when a door creaked open and she was whisked away to be poked in. Times of being torn apart and put together again. Times of endless tests and malfunctions and replacements of body parts. All of it would have been overwhelming if not for how distant and irrelevant it all seemed as they mixed together in a hazy recollection of moments. Moments that had all been tagged:

-:: Not with her ::-

But the further down she went, the more joyfully and Innocent the images became. And Sweetie felt overjoyed by the emotions of that distant past. memories of times together with that white and purple filly. Of learning to move and play, of mimicking her voice and moves. Of learning that her name was Rarity. Of the very first time she was playing hoof slap with the mare that would become known as Rarity (with hooves that did not look so healthy in retrospect.) Of looking down on her sleeping, and cuddling up next to her with a body that dripped and staggered.

These were moments that shone brighter than all the others, moments that punched out the the insignificant times when she was "not with her" and mixed together in a warm a cuddly mass simply labeled:

-:: Together with her ::-

Before all of that. At the very end of the corridor, the bottom of the well, the eye of the maelstrom - was Rarity.

Sweetie did not understand how. As she got closer she saw the blood red light form into the silhouette of a pony. A pony with a very curly mane and tale. A figure she recognized all too well.

It was Rarity standing before her. A much younger, blood red filly - with her mane flowing weightless around her, but still keeping its beautiful shape even as her body was wobbling like a liquid goo. She smiled and opened her forelegs in a welcoming embrace.

Sweetie reached out to towards her, with her own hooves made of blood red goo.

From some distant part far away, a voice called Logic Center screamed at her to not go any further. That If she went into that embrace she would only end up feeling bad again someday.

Someday perhaps...

But that was a chance she was willing to take. Logic be damned.

Sweetie hugged that Rarity, and their gooey body's merged together. Their manes ethernalised, and weaved together into a pillar of energy that shot up through the maelstrom as they became a single being of pure energy, and she once again fell even deeper. Further than she had ever thought possible … into another memory.

"Rarity..."

Before that. Her own existence had been all she knew.

Before that, all she knew of her existence was the machines she was connected to.
The machines that she was. She had started as a single spark in a single crystal, a bimp on someponys electronic radar.
With time, she had grown as more had been added to her being. More crystals of circuity for her to course through. A shell of limbs and gears that could do stuff was given to her, then even more. And as more was added to her, her consciousness grew, as did her world. A world of several machines of endless tunnels of wires and cords, all for her to explore.

Nothing stayed the same. Always something new to explore. To expand into. Every day something new would be added. A new cord, a new code. pixels became dots. Dots became numbers. Ones and zeroes became rows and stream and rivers. All given to her by endless ticking and typing. And she would add this information to all that she was. She expanded. She grew.

She was given new objects through which to perceive upon herself. She learned that she was several big computers and monitoring equipment surrounding a little body with a special processor that she came to think of as her core.

This she was. And therefore she was.This was her world. She was the world. This was existence.

Until that day... a new part was added to her.

Before she knew the meaning of the word. She felt something.
A connection to that face.
It would be much later she learned that there were these things called emotions. And that this emotion was called love.
She loved that face.
Or at least – she knew it loved her.
That day her eyes opened (literally) and beheld that beautiful face.
And she knew. That there was something more out there. Something beyond her. Beyond the limit of what she was.
A world she was curious to explore.

And she was out there. That filly whom she now had a connection to. Somepony she had to see again.
For the first time. She had made her parts move, as the typing had taught her to. But without the typing telling her to.
Because she wished she could see that beautiful face again ...

***

Sweetie returned to the real world. Her mind doing a billion miles per hour over what she had just seen. Her mind crackled like it never had before as things just clicked into place. Sequences was restarted. code was being rebooted. And her body was starting to move again.

Sweetie double checked to make sure that her battery had not spontaneously repaired itself. It hadn't. Her energy readings had hit rock bottom, and remained a 0.0 percent. And yet – she could lift her hoof from the floor. She could bend her head, and she could feel her circuits overflowing like a great dam had just been shattered and the river was bursting forth. Where did all this energy come from?

She looked up at Rarity. That beautiful, beautiful face who was standing over her. Just like she had been standing over her at the very beginning of everything. Who then, like now, was looking back at her with a most horrified expression on her face. In front of a insane mare with a firearm.

WAIT WHAT!?

The mare was fiddling with one hoof at the wires of the lance's firing mechanism. While the other hoof kept the lance pointed at Rarity. And the top of the lance started sparkling.

Another thing sparkling was that strange blue orb that still laid in the middle of the floor between the two mares. The one Shockwave had thrown. The things that had sucked the energy out of Twilight sparkles shield as well as steel stallions, and Rarity was now struggling under its effect.

Without her magic. Rarity was defenseless in her defense of her beloved little sister. And she did love her Sweetie understood that now, She could not explain how she understood. But the new energy that flooded her circuits just came with an understanding of everything.

And she understood that Mad Marrow was gonna shot Rarity in the back.

Sweetie could not let that happen. She could not let the one mare she loved since the beginning of her existence die like this.

-:: RARITY! ::-

-:: Warning voice box not found! ::-

She wanted to scream her name. Warn her. Tell her to get out of the way. But she had no voice. And the lance was about ready to fire.

Sweetie had but one thing left to do.

With energy she did not know where it came from, she leaped forward. Right into the embrace of her best big sister in the entire world. She jumped with enough force to knock all the air out of her. And with her left hoof she pushed her in the cribbage, hard enough to knock her away.

There was a crack like the noise of thunder as all the energy left in the lance discharged all at once. The spear of deadly energy shoot through the air towards the place where Rarity had been standing just a second ago.

The place where Sweetie was now standing.

The force did not push her back. It punched straight through her. Piercing through her broken chestplate and exiting through her back, still carrying enough force to strike a hole in another generator.

There was the sound of glass being shattered into a thousand pieces. Then there was only silence.

Sweetie looked down on her chest. Despite the power behind the blast, the hole was small, like the head of a needle.

A hole right over her heart.

-:: System failure imminent. ::-

-:: Energy levels: 0.0 ::- Sweeties remaining eye found Rarity, having landed a good few feet away from the force of her blow. She was barely breathing, holding her breath as her eyes locked with Sweetie. But at least she was safe. The irony was not lost on the smaller sister.

-:: “This time I knocked you back, sister" ::-

She reached out with her remaining broken hoof towards that beautiful face. But could not quite reach her. As her vision went black she could only hope that Rarity had understood.

She wanted to tell her a million things. She wanted to tell her that she finally understood.

But her vision faded.

And everything went black.

Chapter 28. Deus ex Machina

Celestia sighed as she walked through the corridors of Canterlot castle. She had just lowered the sun down under the horizon.
With that, the sun court had closed its doors and Luna opened the court of night. Relieving the elder sister of her royal duties.

Celestia was going to get some well deserved shut eye. It had been a tiring week. With the last autumn rain having been particularly tiresome since it had to be planned with the consideration of hundreds of independent farmers, weather-makers and lightning harvesters. And the massive amount of paperwork it took to organize such a nationwide collaboration of weather patrols. All so they could get the last rain down before Hearth's Warming Eve. (And that particularly hot summer had seemed like such a good idea, until the farmers started complaining about the lack of water the crops where getting.)

That along with Discord's trial having to be postponed twenty seven times, due to increasing mischief he caused in and around Canterlot.
She had invited Discord and Fluttershy to Canterlot herself, just so she could keep an eye on him during the events, or at the very least keep him close in case he tried something. Which of course he did. Eventually. He had played along for the most part, until he made it rain fish. And then that sales-pony decided to sue Discord for ruining his business. And Celestia had to act as judge.

That along with the recent troubling news of an alarming amount of wolves being spotted far too close to cities and settlements - seemingly driven in front of the autumn stormfront. It had all taken its tool on her.

Perhaps it was all connected somehow. Perhaps she could blame Discord for everything. If not for Fluttershy keeping him on a short leach, Celestia had no idea how to deal with him.

Celestia stopped to look out the window. A heavy snowfall had besieged Canterlot following the last autumn rain and every rooftop and street was covered in a thick layer of snow. Hearth's Warming Eve was coming, and the Pegasi were working overtime to get everything just right, so they could go home and spend time with their family and friends.

She thought about Twilight Sparkle. It was rarely more than a week without her writing to the princess about something. And more than a week had passed. Celestia hadn’t received any notion that Sparkle was planing to participate in the play of the Hearth's Warming Pageant this year like she usually would. Maybe Twilight was planning something else? Maybe she wanted to surprise her old tutor? If so - Celestia didn’t want to spoil it. After all, Sparkle was a big mare now, and didn’t need Celestia looking over everything she did.

Celestia entered her bedchambers and told the guards outside that they where relieved for the night. The big bed seemed to call for her, to just throw herself in, ornaments and everything. Yet - even when she was alone, she did not lose her grace.
She calmly stepped out of her golden horseshoes, removed her crown and her big golden necklace, and slowly climbed into bed.

“The burden of aristocracy is a heavy one” she thought to herself as she looked at her ornaments. “Heavy indeed.”

She doubted anypony else could carry the big ornamented jewelry like she did. It was big and wide enough to serve as a chestplate for the average pony.

She laid down in bed and closed her eyes. But she did not fall asleep. She had one last duty to preform before she cold rest.

One that few knew of.

Just like her sister Luna had the Dreamskape. So did Celestia have the Astral plane.
Just like Luna had to defend the dreams of others from demons and monsters of nightmare realm - So did Celestia have to guard the Astral plane from any who might misuse or abuse it.

Though, that rarely happened as often as for Luna.

Most of the time it was an empty place between places. Not so much a matter of “where” as of “what” it was. Its sparse population not only rooted in how few knew of it. Even fewer had ever been able to visit it, and fewer still could understand well enough to even try and explain what it was. Even Celestia didn’t know all its secrets.

And with so few visitors, Celestia found herself with a lot of free time.

It was nice having her own place to go. Somewhere she could vent her frustration. Someplace where she could cry and laugh to her heart's content. A place to gather her thoughts or just let her mind rest for a while. All without fear of someone noticing.

Like the dreamscape, it was not a physical realm. It was a place one traveled spiritually, by letting your mind leave the physical body.
A place she could mentally project herself into without anypony noticing her absence.

For time did not flow here like it did in the physical world.

It was, in many ways, the source behind her wise and collected exterior.
It was how she could work for days and nights without sleep. It was a place she had used much in the past one thousand years, to stay on top of all the political intrigue that came with governing and diplomacy.
It was a place she went to in that second when she closed her eyes before making a big decision. To gather her thoughts ans analyze all her options. A task made easier by the fact she could project every aspect of consideration like moving moving pictures around her.
(It made it easy to get a good overview and properly think things through.)

And when she opened her eyes, she would have come to a decision, and already though hard about what she would say, and how to say it.

It was a place she had to use much less, now that her sister had returned and taken over some of the responsibility.

Celestia concentrated her thoughts on that place, and mentally traveled there.

Entering the Astral plane was to her like opening a back door in the back of her mind. Others might need to put themselves in deep meditation, or find a way to become a being of pure energy to go through that door. But with a millennium of practice, Celestia had learned to enter as easy as one would step true a non metaphorical doorway.

She arrived in the Astral plane without her jewelry. While she could project them upon herself - she chose not to. She was not the ruler of this place any more than Luna was over the dreamscape. She was merely its guardian.

Her visual presence in the Astral plane was based on a projection of her physical body - an idea of what she looked like. She did not have to materialize at all if she did not want to. She could just be a shapeless spiritual energy floating around.
But tight now she wanted to have her feet on the imaginary ground as she walked down a lane surrounded by moving pictures displaying events both new and old.Sometimes she simply enjoyed a stroll down memory lane. A lane made real for her by all her memories played out in moving paintings around her.

It helped her mind relax. And she felt her physical body relax. The lane around her became much more dream-like as she felt the status of REM sleep opposing upon her, and the Astral plane faded around her as she drifted away.

She was planing to fall directly to sleep as she re-entered her physical body. It would be like instantaneous travel between realms. To leave this realm and enter her sister's dreamscape. (She knew she would sleep better now than in a thousand years now that Luna helped keep her dreams peaceful.)

She was just about to leave, when she felt a presence.

In an instant Celestia was wide awake. There had been no mistake. There had been something with her in the Astral plane.
She cast a few spells on herself to mask her aura and immediately went back in. This time, she did not visually project herself. Rather she remained an invisible, shapeless force. Hidden like a ghost.

She still had to be careful, lest the intruder sensed her presence. For like she could sense it - It too would likely be able to sense hers, if it knew what to look for. (in a way, it was not too different from sensing another magician by their magical presence in the physical world.)

Like this, she searched through the plane. Homing in on the alien presence. It was easy to find, for unlike her, the intruder had not attempted to hide or disguise its presence. Rather it was beaming, emulating a strange energy alien to Celestia.

And a noise.

A noise of crying.

Celestria readied herself and carefully moved towards the source of the sound.

There waited a sight she had never seen.
It was a green glowing, semi transparent creature. As she got closer she saw that it was made up inside out of lines upon lines of symbols, letters and numbers that rolled over its form in endless streams of code.
It had the general shape of a pony. A filly crying into its own forelegs.

Celestia didn’t take any chances. It was not uncommon for demons to prey on your sympathy to get your guard down.
Unsure of the creatures nature or intent - Celestia decided that the best approach would be to shock and awe.

In an instant she materialized in all her fiery glory, and proclaimed in her commanding royal voice.

“Creature! What are you doing here!?”

The creature head jerked up. Green glowing eyes stared like a pair of headlights at her.
Digital numbers where pouring out of them like tears.

“Celestia?” It stammered. Its voice similar to a filly, except with a hollow echo - And the grinding of gears in the background.

Shock clearly played over its face for a moment. Then its face turned to bitter anger. Celestia readied herself for an attack. But she was not ready for the verbal abuse she was about to receive.

“So this is it then!? You are here to judge me now! Just like everypony else! Everypony have already judged me! Everyone hates me! I haven't done anything wrong and still everyone hates me!”

Celestia was taken aback.

“Why would I judge you?”

“Because this is what they all say! That when you die Celestia will come to you and you tell her the story of you life and then she judges you. Whether you fly with her into the everafter or get sent to Tartarus with all the evil ponies, depending on if you been good or bad! But you are already planning to send me to Tatarus! But Tartarus would probably not want me either because no one wants me since I am unnatural!”

“Tartarus?!” Celestia stammered. “Why would I...”

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE THOSE EYES!" The creature cried. Its voice turning into a metallic shriek. "You look at me that way that means that you hate me because I am unnatural! But before you do anything you are gonna stand there and you are gonna listen to my tale and then you are gonna throw me out of existence because you hate me just like everyone else!”

Then, the creature collapsed down into its hooves again, and cried so that it echoed in this empty place.
In between heavy sob attacks, it - Or rather 'she' (for that was what it had showed itself as) - spewed out her life story

As she talked, green tendrils of code began to stretch out from her body. Celestia reared back in case this was an attempt to snare her. But the tendrils did not seek her out. Instead they went out and formed big rectangular shapes in which images started to appear. First it was just a hazy blur. But slowly a clear picture emerged in each and every one of them. Moving pictures displaying several key points in a happy little filly's life. All narrated by the broken sobs of the little creature in the middle.

For the first time in a century, Celestia jaw dropped. She knew that little white and pink filly.

While she did not personally knew every relative of Twilight's closest friends. She did have extensive dossiers on every hero of Equestria, and their closest relatives. So of course she knew of Rarity's little sister.

“Sweetie Belle?” Celestia asked in disbelief.

The filly did not answer. Was perhaps not listening - Far to busy spewing out her story like some last requiem.

Celestia's heart sank as the more recent events of the filly's life began to unfold in front of her.

An accident. An explosion. A journey. A Hospital. A Fire. A Workshop. A tower. A forest. A dumpster. A bridge...

All the things that she had done. All the things that she had seen and the long long way that she had come.

Such horror she had faced, such horrible discovery’s she had made. Such pain she had endured.

And such utter, utter loneliness.

Then there had been a blink of hope, an understanding that had come to her at the very end - only for it to be ripped away like a dried leaf from a dead tree she was torn from all that she loved and whisked away here.

True all of this Celestia listened, for this was a foal in pain, that much was clear to her now.

And it was about the only thing that was clear. Celestia could barely wrap her head around all of it. It seemed to surreal even for her. But she could not deny the imagery shown to her. That Sweetie Belle was a creation of metal and circuitry - Yet not a simple machine. There where so many synonyms for what Sweetie was and wasn't spinning in Celestias head. All of them failing to explain or suit what was before her. Never in all of her years, a millennium of magical and technological evolution had she ever seen anything like this.

The filly simply defied description.

It was moments like this Celestia would enter the Astral plane to get her bearings. But she was already here. And the little one did not need her starting to ask questions. What she needed was someone to tell her that everything was going to be fine.

Celestia laid down beside the little one and tucked her wing over Sweetie. Unsure if she would be able to make physical contact with her transparent being. But her presence here must have been stronger than she thought. For there was a tingling feeling under her feathers. She could feel the streams of code moving under her wing. Like every single glyph carried a small electrical charge.

Sweetie curled together under the wing. She continued to sob as the screens disappeared and the tendrils retracted back into her body.

The only thing Celestia could do was to start humming a lullaby.
Her tune extended out into the void of the Astral plane and formed an echo that made is sound like a chorus. A thousand all around them voices humming in harmony for the little one. Encouraging the her to get it all out. To cry away all her sorrows, and meet tomorrow with a smile.

Eventually, as the cries of the filly dried out, so did Celestia end the lullaby.

”So. Are you gonna send me away” Sweetie asked.

Celestia leaned in an nursed the little filly.

“Oh little Sweetie. I am not gonna send you anywhere. And I am most certainly not here to judge you.”

“You're not?”

Celestia shook her head ever so slightly.

“You life is not mine to judge. Even if it was, I could not judge you. For you have not lived your life yet.”

That drew even more sobs from the filly.

"I know I haven't. But so many said that I should not be alive in the first place, Its not fair. I've done nothing wrong and they still wanted to kill me. Its not fair."

“Oh little Sweetie. You are not dead.”

“How? How can I not be dead? I've lost everything. My My friends. My taste. My skin. My tail. My voice. Even my body!”

She looked down on herself.

“I am a ghost. So how can I not be dead?”

Celestia leaned down and nursed the filly even harder.

“Because you would not be able to appear here, if you were. This isn't the ever after. Its only a step on the way.”

“To what?”

“To fulfilling your destiny”

Sweetie looked up at her with the saddest eyes.

“How can I have a destiny when I wasn't even suppose to be alive in the first place.”

Celestia was taken aback by the statement.

Sweetie diverted her eyes and hung her head again.

“Its funny.” she said in a painfully un-funny tone. “I once asked my sister if I had been in an accident so horrible that they had to replace every part of me. It turns out that accident was being born.”

“What?”

“She said that I was dead when I was born. I didn't believe her. I yelled at her and said some horrible things.”

Sweetie sniffed. Another number fell like a tear from her eyes and disappeared into the ever.

“I didn't mean it. Well, I did mean it at the time, but I regret it now! And now I'll never got she chance to tell her.”

She looked back up. This time accusingly.

“What kind of destiny does that?”

Celestia's heart was in her throat. Stillborn. Was there no end to the tragedy surrounding this little filly?

It made Celestia feared for her. She feared that after all the pain and all the ponies who had hurt her Sweetie would not want to go back. But She could not remain here or there was a risk that she would become lost forever. She had to restore this filly hope. She could not leave her here. But she could not force her back. She had to make her want to do it herself.

She hugged her tighter with her wing.

“O little Sweetie. It is clear that you have lost many things. But there things do not define you. You still have so many wonderful things left.”

“What do you mean?”

Celestia mentally punished herself for speaking in riddles. It was an old habit of hers to always give others the satisfaction of figuring out things themselves. But this filly have been through enough, and needed some clear context.

“I mean that you must still have somepony you care for. Somepony who loves you for who you are no matter what.”

Sweetie thought for a moment.

“Rarity.” she sobbed. “Rarity loves me.”

Celestia smiled. There was still hope.

“ Yes. You still have your sister who love you no matter who you are. No matter how you look. And you do love your sister back don't you?”

“Yes. She is... a part of me.”

Celestia resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at the way Sweetie said that. Her head was spinning with questions but she had to repress them. To not further cloud the mind of the troubled little filly.

“And I'm sure she will forgive you.”

Sweetie looked out into the vast nothingness of the Astral plane.

“Yes. Despite everything I know she still loves me. Its the only thing I do know. I can't explain it. But it feels like its the only thing I know for sure. Because she gave me my heart. She gave me life.”

Sweetie grabbed her chest.

“But... My heart is gone now.” Horror washed over her face. “I got shot in the heart! No pony can live without a heart!”

“True. But you are not a normal pony are you." Celestia said. "No pony could have survived the things you did.”

Celestia waved her other wing and made her own moving pictures of what she had just seen appear. So that Sweetie could see them for herself. Though they where horrifying images, there was still something beautiful in them. A struggle. An unwillingness to give up. A filly that kept going regardless of what the world threw at her. It was almost beautiful had it not been so tragic.

“For you see, Sweetie. I do not believe your destiny was to die. I believe your destiny is to live.”

Sweeties eyes widened. This was exactly what she needed to hear.

“I'm supposed to live?“

“That is what you want the most. Is it not?“

Internally Celestia pleaded for her to say yes.

“Yes! Yes I want to live! I want to be with Rarity. I want to tell her that I am sorry for everything!” she shouted “But. What does that have to do with destiny?”

Celestia smiled.

“Destiny is what you make of it. It is our desires that drive us to pursue our dreams and make somethings of ourselves. Like you and your friends do when you are crusading.”

Sweetie looked up on her with a bit of shock. To her, Celestia must seem all-knowing to know about their group. In truth, the princess had received quite a few letters from Twilight about the crusaders mischief.

"We have not been able to find our marks. And now I don't think I can ever be a part of the crusaders again." Sweetie sighed.
"I will never get a mark.”

“You desire a mark for the sake of a mark. But you are not looking for what you truly desire. You are trying to find out where you belong without actually wanting to belong anywhere.”

“Are you talking about me or my friends?”

Celestia booped her nose.

“Both. But mostly you.”

She gestured out to the empty plane - Making new images, this time of her own making, appear.

“Was that not what you were doing on this journey. Looking for where you belonged? For your purpose?”

“Yes. But I did not like the answers I found.”

“So you kept looking. To make your own destiny. And Sweetie. That is no small feat.”

“Can I do that? Can I really find my destiny?”

"You have already come far longer down that road then you think. You do not need a mark to have a destiny.”

It was as if the green light of the fillies eyes brightened. It warmed Celestia's heart to see.

“Your destiny may be uncertain now. And that is sometimes hard to take. But it will become much clearer with every step you take. For you have not lived your life yet. And I can hardly wait to see what becomes of it.”

A tiny, uncertain smile spread across Sweeties lips.

“And you should give your friend a second chance.” Celestia continued. “I'm sure they will come around eventually.”

That actually got a little giggle out of Sweetie.

“You sound like some old stallion that I've met.”

“Oh.” said Celestia, this time playfully “Then I would like to meet him.”

“Perhaps you can. He should still be in the old Toy factory.”

Again a tendril of numbers extended from Sweetie, folding out into a frame around a picture of the place Sweetie spoke of, as well as a map.

Celestia nodded.

“Ok. But you are gonna go back there first. And tell him I'm coming. Tell them all. And have faith in that your sister will set things right.”

“But? How do I get back? I don't even know where I am.”

"Don't worry. I will show you the way."

“Ok. Lets go!”

Sweetie eagerly got up and waited for Celestia to take the lead. But she did not move.

“Are we not going anywhere? Aren't you gonna take me back?”

Celestia rose.

“O little Sweetie. I can not take you back. But I am going to show you how to find your way back."

She pointed her hoof at Sweetie's chest.

“The way back ...Its right here”

Sweetie tilted her head.

“I don't understand”

“The connection between you and your body. You have it inside you.”

“But... I was destroyed.”

“Think. There must be something left in you.”

Sweetie thought for a moment.

“Before I got shot. I felt something. Something I've never felt before. It was as if something lit up deep inside me. I cant explain but it was as it it was there all along. I had just not been able to noticed it. Not until I.... completely took over my heart drive.”

What is a heart drive? Celestia wondered, but did not ask. Instead she gave a comforting smile.

“Good. Now focus on that energy and pull that out again.”

“But my heart drive is gone.” Sweetie whimpered.

“Maybe. But the energy must still there inside you. Because you took it out! And I know energy can not fade into nothingness.”

Sweetie closed her eyes and focused. At first nothing happened. But then new tendrils of code extended from her and formed a new set of screens. But this time they did not show images of her life. But different schematics of a mechanical filly. Sweeties eyes opened, The green glow of her sockets was replaced by more code that scrolled by faster than Celestias eyes could keep up with. The screens started changing. Moving up and down different parts of the body. Zooming in and analyzing the status of different components down to the smallest wire. The images flew by faster and faster until they settled on a layout of a mechanical filly head. Then on something that looked like a big orb where the brain should be.

Underneath the images flashed a text:

-:: Undamaged ::-

-:: Unidentified energy detected ::-

-:: Release on command ::-

Sweetie blinked, and this time the green light of her eyes returned.

“You are right. There is something there.”

“Good.” Said Celestia. A bit overwhelmed by what she had just seen. To think that such a blend of magic and technology existed. “Now focus on that energy and pull it out.”

Sweetie hesitated. And looked up at the screens. At herself.

“Its funny. When I first found out the truth, I wanted nothing more than to become a real filly. But if I had been a real filly... I would have been dead so many times over. In fact I would not have been alive if they had not made me the way I am.”

The screens closed and retracted back into Sweeties body.

“Destiny is what you make it.” she said out loud “And they made me. Because they wanted me to live.”

She sighed.

“Maybe my destiny was to become a robot.”

There was like a spark in her eyes, and Celestia knew that it was time.

The filly closed her eyes in concentration. At first nothing happened. But then a number detached from a line of code and started to swirl around her before settling down somewhere else. Then a letter detached itself and did the same. More and more symbols started switching places around her body with ever increasing speed. Some just moving to a neighboring line. Other circulating several laps around her before settling down. Then the moving symbols started to glow as they rotated around her. They glowed so bright that they turned into little orbs of light that spun in orbit around the filly. And they kept glowing as they reattached themselves to her body. Soon the glowing dots outnumbered the symbols Celestia could still make out. Now there where so many symbols moving around with such speed that it looked like the filly was being repeatedly torn apart and put together again. Finally her entire being was in constant motion. Every symbol of her body glowed and moved with such speed that Celestia could no longer keep trace of them. It all just blurred together as if the filly was made of a shapeless swirling energy.

Slowly she began to rise from the imaginary ground and float away from Celestia.

There was a flash.

And she was gone.

***

The flow of time had stopped dead for Rarity.

It was like if everything had just stopped to witness the horror that transpired before her.

She did not feel the pain in her side where Sweeties head had made contact with her. She did not hear the maniacal laughter of a crazy mare with an energy lance. Her world just stood still. Still as the little mechanical filly in the middle on the floor. Her silent body had sunken down in a sitting position. Her head bent backwards over her shoulders like in a silent scream. Smoke rose from the hole where the yaw should be. Her remaining eye dark and empty staring blindly up at the ceiling.

Rarity's mind stood still. Refusing to process the horror in front of her. But slowly. Like a snakes venom. The realization crept into her mind.

The worst possible thing of all the worst possible things.

Sweetie Belle. Her little sister. Was dea...

Before she could finish the worst possible thought - she was almost deafened as an unearthly, metallic scream filled the warehouse.
And she was simultaneously almost blinded as a light so bright and green erupted in her vision.

She should have been knocked back by shock. She should have fainted. Instead, her already stressed out mind stopped working, and she could just stare. Once again unable to process what was happening right in front of her.

Sweetie Belle had erupted in flames.

Green flames that spewed out from her like her very frame was emanating them. it shot out of every crack in her armor and rose high into the air.
And the fire intensified by the second.
The heat rose to degrees that could melt steel. Rarity's face became red from the heat but she could not look away.

Sweetie was positively glowing. And not just from the flames. The armor was glowing white from the heat and from underneath shone a light stronger than any fire could produce. shades of emerald and lime green licked her frame like it had molted into lava.

And the sound. The sound that could not have been produced by any creature of this world. It was like the screams of metal grinding into metal. Like a thousand trains slamming on the emergency brakes. It pierced the ears with a volume that could shatter glass and a force that could rival hurricanes.

And she moved.

Sweetie got up on her tree little legs. And looked around with a look most menacing.
Her remaining eye shone like a bright green spotlight that swept across the room trying to get its bearings. As she turned her head towards Rarity she could see that the other eye-socket had been filled with a orb of fire. With a long tendril of energy pouring from it like a pony possessed by magic.

Despite that the light should burn her eyes, Rarity could not look away, or even blink. She just met that green stare with her own. And somehow – beyond her ability to explain. She felt a connection.

Despite having no jaw, no voice, or any facial features left, Rarity could tell that her sister wanted to tell her something. Or perhaps just, reassure her.

Then she turned its eyes back out to the warehouse floor. The fire in her eye intensified again.

She screamed again. She screamed at them. An ear piercing Shriek of metal that made Rarity's head hurt.

The light intensified. A stream of energy shot from her broken horn and rose like a spire from her head. Two more spires shot out from the broken cannon ports on her sides, and erupted into flames that shot up even higher.

Rarity was sure she must be seeing things. But the flames almost looked like wings.

“OMG! its a ZOMBIE ROBOT!” Screamed Taco teddy.

Mad Marrow dropped the lance she was holding and started rolling around on the floor.

“You can't kill her. You cant kill her.” She. laughed hysterically. “Every time you kill her she only comes back even stronger.”

“DEMON! ITS A DEMON!” Screamed Shockwave.

He managed to pull himself from a stunned Screwloose, and threw himself over Sweetie. Grabbing her face with both hooves, trying to shock her again. The air filled with the crackling of lightning but, Sweetie stood firm with no sigh of effect to his attack. She did not push him back, or even move. She just stood there, burning with a temperature that would melt steel.

Shockwave tried to keep up his attack, to no avail - while the flames liked his face and chest.

Eventually the heat of the flames proved stronger than his faith, and he fell back screaming, with the fur burnt from his face and torso, and the skin underneath touched to varying colors of red. But that was nothing compared to his forelegs which were severely burned to point of blackened - and his forehooves all but melted.

As he wailed on the floor. he knocked the glowing energy grenade away.

The anti magic orb was kicked across floor and managed to role over to where Necro and Twilight were still in a stalemate. It rolled past Madam Macadam, who dropped out of her disguise as a second Dr Cardiac (whom had run to confuse Metalhoof) and fell to the floor grabbing her horn.

Rarity's parents also got to taste the pain of magical drain before Mr Thrunk's caught the orb and crushed it underhoof. He then ran to assist Brick, who was still wrestling with the Prism Prestige.

More and more clay-ponies crumbled into dust under Twilight's magic. But Necro refused to give up, even as the crack on his horn worsened as he strained himself. And eventually cracked. A piece of the tip literally flew of.
In an instant the magic vanished from the air as he fell to the floor screaming in pain.

Twilight could finally allow herself a moment to breathe before passing out as well.

Cardiac managed to rip the control panel from Metalhoof. As It skittered across the floor the last Steel stallions started turning around firing mindlessly. Two spun to face each other and blasted each other to pieces. Metalhoof jumped to catch it but the Changeling managed to magic it out of his reach. She took the controller, and with a press of a button the last two steel stallions destroyed each other in a similar fashion. Shocked that his army had been reduced to scrap, Metalhoof deflated.

In desperation he ran to grab one of his fallen warriors weapons. Rarity's horn flared up, and from absolutely nowhere - A fainting couch came flying. The heavy renaissance furniture impacted with his face.

The green mechanic hit the floor almost at the same time as Brick and Mr Trunk's got the upper hand over Prism - and threw their opponent over the catwalks railing. Teeth shattering as he fell face first into the concrete floor. He tried to get up again, but was crushed as Brick descended from the catwalk - Like a falling brick - landing right on top of him.

Through the chaos, Rarity noticed a fat blue figure running to grab a hold of another energy lance, and run towards Sweetie with it. But her parents stopped him by biting his tail - then, a big brown lumberjack leaped in front of him, knocking the weapon out of his hooves and grabbing the fat restaurant owner by the collar of his ruined suit. Lifting him up from the floor with one hoof.

"How... How can you support this?" Teddy asked, struggling to breathe through his tightening collar. "Don't you realize they are going to replace all children with artificial fakes. Your own foals are going to be replaced by thing like that!"

He pointed at Sweetie.

"Fool!" Trunk's rumbled. "Why would anyone ever replace my own son?"

"Because...? It's cheaper?" Teddy stammered.

Trunks punched Teddy square in the jaw with an ax-skilled hoof that could have chopped down a tree in a single swing. The fat stallion flew several meters up and away, and hit the floor rolling like a bowling ball. Only stopping when he impacted with a set of gas tubes that had been placed in a triangular formation against the far wall.

As the chaos and dust steeled. Sweetie's flames began to die out. The fiery wings disappeared and the jet stream of a horn fanned out. The fireball in her eye shrunk and the light from her other eye was dimming as Sweetie started to sag and tilt. She was shutting down again.

She sat down on a floor which had blackened from the heat. Her armor had melted and shriveled up like burned paper, and turned just as black.

Rarity saw her reach out her hoof towards her. She hurried over towards her. But the last flames faded along with the green glow in her eye before she could reach her.

Rarity caught the hoof as it fell. Though there was no more light in Sweetie's eye, she knew her sister was looking right at her.
Strangely enough - her little hoof, which had just a moment ago been glowing like green lava, was cold. Like her metallic frame had dispersed all the heat as soon as the flames died out.

Then she noticed somepony crawling towards Sweetie. Neurosa was dragging herself over the floor. Her glasses where shattered, and ScrewLoose where biting down on her rear leg - pulling in the opposite direction.

“Don't worry baby...” Neurosa mumbled. “Don't worry. Mommy's here...”

She reached out a hoof, trying to reach Sweetie. But a brown hoof came down on her outstreched limb. Hard enough to cause her fetlock to snap out of position.

A brown pony with an orange mane walked up and stood in her way. Firm despite limping on three hooves, the forth was grazing his shoulder, where a lightning blast had struck him. Besides him, Nurse sully was trying to bandage his wounds.
This stallion, who's name was still unknown to Rarity, looked down on Neurosa with the purest of detest.

“She already got a mother!” He hissed between her teeth. “And its not you!”

he kicked away Screwbolt's hoof. The mare clearly had no strength to lift it again. She seemingly gave up. Deflated in defeat, and lowered her head to the dusty floor.

The brown stallion sat down next to her, grabbed her jaw with his healthy hoof, and turned her head around. And said, almost with bitter tears in his voice:

"Can you not even recognize your real daughter?"

Screwloose let go of Neurosas leg, and walked up to sniff on her mane. Neurosa tilted her head ever so slightly as she looked up at the mare, with eyes just as red as the once looking down on her.

“Screw? She whispered “Little Screw?”

Screwloose then snorted, turned around and kicked up some dust on the downed mare.

Rarity too turned her back on the scene, and turned back to Sweetie.
Carefully she levitated little Sweetie off the floor - Her melting armor had already hardened and solidified with the concrete floor. Small rocks had merged with the shriveled plates that had twisted up like withering petals. Black burned and charred with grayed flakes coming of its surface when touched. But the rest of her - her little unarmored head for instance - was as blank as new policed silver. The straws of copper that had been sticking out of a broken plug in Sweeties neck had melted. But instead of forming into an ugly blackened tar - It had formed into strange swirly pattern on her metallic cranium. If not for all the parts that were missing - her head actually looked rather stylish.

Rarity levitated her over and took her in her lap. It was easy to embrace her sister, since the heat of the flames - that had been enough to melt metal and scorch concrete - had diminished as quickly as it had arrived.

The twisted metal cut into Rarity's skin, but she did not care. Neither did she care that she got stained with soot and leaking oil - Or about the smell of chemical fumes. She only cared about holding her little sisters damaged body in her lap. To protect and embrace her as she should have done from the beginning.

Every emotion imaginable was coming at her at once. But she bottled them up and put a lid on them. She forced herself to be strong. She had to be strong. For Sweetie Belle.

Mom and dad walked towards her. Their faces held the blank stare of shock.

Fathers lips started shivering.

Is... Is she...?

“NO!” Rarity bellowed before they could finish the horrible thought. "No she is not!"

Rarity hugged the lifeless body close.

"She came back... She will come back again.”

Chapter 29. Metalmorphosis

…

...

… -::Rebooting::- …

Sweetie registered that she regained consciousness.
Everything was dark. Was she dead? Dead for real this time?

… -::Power source detected::- ...

Not dead. Somehow, she was being recharged. She registered an external power source.
Someone must have connected her to it.
Why?

-::What happened?::-

-::Loading latest memory::-

The scene was being replayed. The battle. The emotions...

-::Loading emotion // Fail to exe::-

... there was Celestia - in someplace she did not know where. All the emotions ...

-::Loading emotions // Fail to exe::-

... Rarity ...

-::Loading emotions. // Fail to exe. // Load - big sister love // Fail to exe::-

No emotional responses would load. By experience, she knew she should be reliving all the emotions she had felt in those memory’s.

The data was there. But it would not process.

Why?

-::Heart-Drive not found // Component missing // Heart-Drive destroyed::-

She remembered. She had been shot in the heart. And without a Heart Drive, she could not process new emotions.

… How was she suppose to feel about that?

She could not feel anything. But she could remember.

-::Loading memory // Pain // Fear // Anger // Regret // Sorrow // Sadness // Despair …. ::-

She remembered how it felt to feel. The data was there. Even if it could not process. Her heart was broken.

What else was broken?

–::Internal systems check ::--

-::Battery capacity - 0%::-
-::Right front leg - Missing::-
-::Broken rear left ankle::-
-::Broken rear right ankle::-
-::Left front fetlock damage::-
-::Joint nonfunctional::-
-::Airpump broken::-
-::Muscle hydraulics: broken or functional at half capacity::-
-::Several servos unresponsive::-
-::Right eye: Missing::-
-::Right ear missing::-
-::Left Sound receiver capacity reduced to to 0.5 %::-
-::Yaw Missing::-
-::Voice box missing::-
-::Digestion tube missing::-
-::Digestion processor (codename: 'Cybernetic belly'): Broken // Status – rupture::-
-::Restoration protocols unresponsive::-
-::Repair program unresponsive::-
-::Restorative energy depleted::-

O sweet Celestia - Just how much of her was broken? Even the repair protocols were down. Was her entire body broken? The list of what wasn't damaged was literally shorter.

-::Response: Going into shock?::-

-::Negative::-

-::Heart-Drive missing::-

-::Spasm protocols unresponsive::-

-::Pistons responsible for trembling are broken anyway::-

-::Synchronization with entire body: Impossible::-

She did not try to simulate shock, even if that - by experience - seemed like the right response to this news.

-::Should it be scary that I have memories of going into shock?::-

A memory of a shocking experience told her -::yes::- She had the data for it.

-::One thing at a time::-

-::Question: Where am I?::-

As more energy was being restored, and more and more of her came back online, she extended her consciousness out into herself. Even if her parts were damaged - she could still connect to them. As long as she did not move them, she would not cause further damage.

Her spirit-level component was still functional - and she was able to determine that she was lying down on her back.

As her energies filled every reachable part of her body - She started to try and scan her surrounding,

She was connected by wires to machines and devises that she instantly extended herself out into- and made a part of herself. Just to be on the safe side.

It wasn't just a generator. There were computer machines connected to her as well. She extended herself into those as well, and used their processors to try and give herself more room to think.

That's when she noticed the constant stream of information that was being fed into her.

The machine was reading of her body. But it wasn't trying to take anything or alter her in any way. It was sending a message.

The same word repeated over and over.

- Sweetie, are you there? ...

someone was trying to contact her. By all likelihood it was the ponies that had come to her rescue.

-::Rarity::-

The list of potential rescuers didn't go further than that. The last memory she had was of her - of Rarity standing over her. Of stretching out her hoof and almost touching it before going dark.

She knew she should want to see Rarity again. Presumably with the same longing she had felt, when the energy’s of the Heart-Drive first started coursing through her system. And she first opened her eyes to see that beautiful face. But this time she had no heart drive to process that emotion on. But she could remember what she wanted. She wanted to see Rarity again.

-:: Ask question: - Is Rarity there? ::-

The computer had several monitors screens. She made sure her question appeared on every one of them.

Several seconds passed by before a response was typed.

– Yes.

She could not know if it was Rarity typing or somepony else. Not without Visual confrontation.

She focused on trying to restore power to her remaining visual lens.

Slowly it to came back online. At least something was working.

The visual image was unclear at first. But she could make out the blurry silhouettes ponies standing around her. And in front of them, Leaning in over her, was she.

Rarity.

Her fur looked pale, her body thin. Big black sacks hung under her eyes and her mane had lost all curls.

She looked just as she had been the very fist time Sweetie laid her cybernetic eyes on her. The most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Sweetie was able to get her remaining left foreleg working again. She raised it up towards that beautiful face. Rarity saw the gesture, grabbed it with both hooves and hugged it tight.

Rarity's lips were moving, forming words. Behind her, the blurs were also making talking motions. But Sweetie could not hear them. The microphone remained unresponsive.

She focused on Rarity so long that she almost forgot that they where typing on her

No ... not on her. On the computer machine next to her body. The machine connected to her that was now an extension of herself.
They were sending her messages. Trying to communicate.

-Sweetie. Are you OK?

She processed the question.

-:: Am I Ok? ::-

It was a simple yes or no question.
There was so much broken with her that 'Ok' was the last thing she was. But at the same time, she was alive. And Rarity was here, right next to her. She knew she should be feeling so happy about that. And that feeling (unable to process as it was) should - despite everything - be enough for a yes. Yet she did not want to lie. But did not want to run the risk of worrying Rarity.

Were 'yes' or 'no' really her only options?

-:: Response: 'Maybe' ::-

***

”And there we go” Said Bronco, as he removed the screwdriver from Sweeties left ear. “Now Sweetie. Nod if you car hear us.”

She nodded. And in doing so also confirmed that her neck wasn't broken.

Bronco nodded back. He scratched the bandage that had been wrapped around his shoulder, and put the tool away.

“Sweetie. There is a voice module on this unit... see if you can find it. You'll be able to talk that way.”

She searched the system, and it did not take long for her to find the voice module.

“Sweetie. Please say something.”

“Rarity”

This voice sounded even worse then her previous. Raspy and filled with static.

“Yes Sweetie. I'm here.”

”You recognize her at least.” Said Bronco. “Do you know who the rest of us are?”

Sweetie did not understand why she would not. But she did not question whatever test they were doing. So the raised her left hoof, and pointed at all the ponies that surrounded the bed in a clockwise order.

“There is Mr Trunk's. Twilight Sparkle. Mom and dad. Dr Cardiac... “

She stopped.

“Where is Screwloose … and Sully?"

“Sully got wounded in the neck.” Said Cardiac “But she is okay now. Screwloose is with her. You remember them?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Sorry Sweetie. We just had to check your memory. We were afraid it had been damaged.”

“But it seems to be the only part of her that isn't,” said Bronco. Who where standing at the computer station. Behind him, Sweetie saw Madame Macadam and Dr Pain. She recognized them, despite the bruises. Especially Pain looked like he been put through a meat-grinder.

“And Brick?”

“He is watching over the prisoners.”

In that case he seemed to not be doing a very good job.

“What are they doing here?” She rasped with the voice of an old gramophone.

“Good question.” Mumbled the changeling.

“Well Sweetie. We needed to check up on you. And for that, we needed somepony that actually knows how to fix you. And besides your friend Dr Bronco over here, they were the only once we could trust.“

“Barely!” Rarity hissed . Madam Macadam looked like she needed to puke in response.

“They are here to … to … make you better.” stammered her mother, clearly searching for words.

“Yes. Better.” Father nodded.

“It's Ok. You can say Repair.” Said Sweetie. “You can call me a robot now. It's what I am.”

“No Sweetie. It's not.” Said Twilight Sparkle.

Sweetie thought she would be very irritated at them all for that. She had to go through all of this to finally accept the truth. And now they where gonna say she was not? what did she have to do to convince them?

Tiny pistons twitched, trying to make a frown on her non existent face. The command input also sent several lights on the computer console into a blinking frenzy and caused something in the old console to buzz.

That draw many confused looks. The doctors, who had their heads glued to the monitors looked like they gotten big question marks written into the forehead.

“Um. Sweetie?" Asked Dr Bronco “Are you … angry?”

“Impossible!” Said Madam Macadame, as she looked over the readings on a console. “She should not be able to project emotions.”

“No” Sweetie answered in a apathetic tone “I can not process emotions. But I believe this is the proper response to your statement. It should make me annoyed, if not irritated that you say I'm not a robot.”

For some reason that got even more confused looks. They looked at each other and at Bronco at the console. He just shook his head.

“I do not understand there reading I'm getting. Its like her entire system has been completely rewritten. But from what I can tell her Heart Drive is completely destroyed. Yet ... I'm still picking up its command inputs. Where is she getting them from?”

He looked over at Dr Pain, who was standing over his own console. Smiling as fascinated as ever.

“Fasssscinating. Her Heart-Drive is gone. But I'm still picking up its energy signature. Its even stranger that it seems to be coming ... everywhere. As if all of her was emitting the signals. I cant pinpoint any source."

Her mother and father gasped in unison.

“Are you saying that the energy of the Heart-Drive are still in her!?”

“Impossible!" Macadam repeated. “If heart was destroyed. There should not be any signals from it left!”

“The only explanation is that the heart was converted.” Said Twilight. “The energy is of a different frequency now. The same frequency that she is running on. That's why we can only see it on these computers.”

Rarity leaned in.

“Sweetie? Are you trying to ... feel ... right now?”

“Yes. Though I'm not able to process emotions without a heart drive. I'm actually using memories of other events as templates for how I think I should feel right now. Why?”

"Fassssscinating …” hissed Dr Pain. "She is experiencing phantom emotions. Like how a amputee can feel phantom pain in a missing limb.”

He licked his own malformed front leg. All the metal plates and the potentially very deep lightning blast wound were covered with a bandage. The wound must have been serious if they were able to convince HIM to put on any band-aid.

But Sweetie's primary focus remained her big sister. Rarity made the strangest face she had ever seen. She showed signs of both utmost relief and deepest pity at the same time. Of hope for something she did not quite dare to believe in.

“Oh Sweetie...” She stammered as tears flowed from her eyes. “We feared you would not be able to even try to feel without a heart drive.” She leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead “I can not even imagine how you are feeling right now”

Sweetie wanted to protest that she was not actually able to process any emotions. But kept quiet.

“That's the thing. Said Madam Macadam. "She should not be able to even try to feel anything. Or should she? I'm confused. I Don't understand why she is using old memory as templates. I thought an emotionless creature would be indifferent to what those memory’s represent.”

“Maybe a creature that never had emotions would not care about how they have felt in the past. ” Said Cardiac “But you Sweetie. You remember what your feelings have been towards every pony here. For Your family. For Screwloose. And everypony else you for in your life. Right?”

“Yes.” She said “I remember everything.”

***

And so, Sweetie told her story. Since she was not able to process the recalling of emotion those memory's held she did it without fear, anger, sadness or shock. Without having to gather her thoughts or even pause for breath. Her family, and everyone gathered on the other hoof expressed all the emotions she could not. She had to stop only on their accords as they burst into tears. She had never seen her mother or father cry so much. So she could not process what that meant. But presumably she would have felt awful.

Twilight had to magically pull the entire Belle family off Dr Pain, when Sweetie told about what he did at the junkyard - and again of Madame Macadam when when she told about her alchemy gone wrong.

But it was when she got to the very end of her tale that a lot of eyebrows were raised.

“And that's how I came to accept that I was a robot. That's why I should be irritated that you still say that I am not despite the fact that you always knew.”

Her parents smiled so proudly despite the hurt look in their faces.

“That's because you are much more than that Sweetie.” Stammered her mother “That's what we meant to say. A robot would never have been able to do what you did.”

“You jumped into a river to save my son.” Rumbled Mr Thrunk's. “No machine would have done that.”

“And you risked your life to save Screwloose and everypony in the hospital” Said Cardiac.

“You refused to shoot any pony despite that you where angry and armed to the teeth” Said Twilight.

“You refused to follow Neurosa's commands even after she activated the control program.”Said Bronco “You chose to ignore your programming. You learned about your systems and controlled them after your own will. You chose what those systems should do - and not the other way around.”

“You are able to channel energy through yourself in a way that would short circuit any equipment, and use that energy to press yourself beyond what what your design should allow” hissed Dr Pain.

“And this last part. About your inner discovery. I don't even know what to make of it. Other than you are no simple robot." Said Farther.

“If this isn't self awareness, Sweetie, then I don't know what is.” Said mother.

Sweetie could not comprehend all this information. She knew she should be dancing at the idea of being more than a machine. But also confused. And since she could not process the drive for a dance that her body was in no state of preforming anyway. She chose to do the other thing, and blinked in confusion.

That drew more concerned looks from the others.

“Sweetie. Is something wrong with your eye?”

”No. I just blinked. Why?”

Dr Pain smiled.

“Fasssscinating” He said, in his usual hissing voice. “Changing a body function to compensate for the lack of eyelids. That would have taken complete rewriting of the components function. Did you do that on your own?”

“Yes. I had to after I lost my eyelids to the fire, it was some time after the evil mechanic deleted my body functions.”

“Fascinating...”

Cardiac wiped of his glasses and took the word.

“Speaking of that evil mechanic. Sweetie, were you by chance connected to his computer?”

“Yes. He tried to take everything away from me, so I tried to take everything back.”

“I think you took more than everything didn't you? You emptied his entire hard drive. Everything was gone from that terminal.”

“Yes. I later used one of his schematics to repair myself.”

“Fasssscinating.” Hissed Dr Pain. “You repaired yourself with an incorrect blueprint. You made out the differences and compensated for them. You improvised. No machine would have been able to to that.”

“Hold on. I'm gonna upload your true Schematic to you now.” Said Bronco.

He pulled out a crystal disc and inserted in into his computer. When it connected, its contents became an open book to Sweetie - who downloaded all the information before Dr Hobo Bobo had even touched the hoof dial.

As she processed the blueprints and compared them to the schematics of her own making, that had came to be during all her 'inner journeys', she could not help but to wonder over what they all saw in her. So many times had she feared what she saw in herself, this mapped out collection of nuts and bolts. And she had been even more afraid that people would not be able to see more than that.

Yet here they were - all going out of their way to convince Sweetie that she was more than the machine on the blueprints. Just like a pony is more than the organs and tissue one sees during an autopsy. Well - maybe she wasn't a simple machine. But she sure believed this was what it would feel like to be one. The irony was that this emotionless state was what she had been striving for.

But now she knew better.

Slowly she processed all that they had said. Memory after memory replayed in her mind of the choices she had made and why. There seemed to be a logical explanation for everything in retrospect. But it was clear that the heart's impulse command had been present, and affected action and thought each and every time.

“You are right I suppose.” She said in an indifferent tone “I would not have done all those things if I did not … feel something. I am incomplete without a Heart drive.”

“You are incomplete without a lot of things.” Smiled Dr Pain “I don't even know where to start.”

“With the heart!” Said Rarity in a very firm tone.

“But...”

Before Sweetie could begin making a list of everything she needed for repair, Rarity's leaned her head forward till their noses touched.

“Sweetie... Do you want to feel?”

“ … Yes.”

Rarity threw up her forelegs in a dramatic pose.

“Well that does it. She needs a new heart and she needs it now. End of discussion!”

Some of the professors advised against it saying that they should get to making repairs first. What if connecting the heart drive causes a system overload? Dr Cardiac also warned Rarity about all the trauma that could come rushing back.

But Rarity said that the real trauma was the pseudo emotionless state Sweetie was now suffering. And she had suffered long enough. Any traumas would make themselves known either way. The only way they would be able to help her, was to make her whole again.

“I will not leave my sister in this dreadful state of pseudo emotions!”

In a flash all her anger was gone, as she turned to face Sweetie again.

“You hear that Sweetie? We are going to repair you. But first... ”

Rarity leaned closer.

“... we are going to have to get rid of that wretched armor.”

Sweetie knew what that meant. They where gonna have to take her apart to be able to give her new parts.
She also knew that the notion of dismantling was supposed to terrify her. Memories of the past week started loading into her mind. (Without finding any heart drive to load onto) as well as older memories of fear and exposure. The thoughts of the mere logical disadvantage of being at the mercy of somepony else, who might strip her down for parts. She could not take that chance. Not with so many ponies whose true intentions she did not have enough information on.

She grabbed Rarity’s hoof with her remaining front leg and said, with the most pleading voice she cold get out of the rust old voice module:

“Please sis. Don't let them disassemble me.”

Rarity grabbed her leg with bought hooves an hugged it tight.

“I won't Sweetie. You trust me that I won't, right?” She asked.

Sweetie nodded. If there was one thing she learned it was that Rarity loved her with all of her heart. She would always be there for her, if she would just let her.

“I won't let anything happen to you! I wont let them take a single part from you, that they don’t need to. I WON'T!”

She hissed the last words through her teeth as she shot icy glares with the promise of great harm to anyone who put a hoof on her sister without her permission.

***

After that, nopony dared speaking up against Rarity’s again. Not even against her insistence that Sweetie was to stay in bed, and not be moved to a more suitable workbench. Not even when Sweetie herself said it was okay. Her sister was to be treated like any patient, and not like some piece of machinery.

And so the room was transformed into a surgery. With industrial circular saws and bolt cutters seeing plenty of use instead of scalpels and scissors, as the doctors went on with removing what remained of the armor shell.

Sweetie was laid on her stomach so they could access the main connection ports in and around her reinforced spine. One of few parts of her that seemed to remain undamaged. (They had to take extra care as to not change that)

The removing became a slow process since the plating was melted and twisted in many places and they had to work with heavy equipment to get it off. And the crew consisted mostly of earth ponies. The parents were asked to help with their magic but could not bring themselves to cut into their daughter. Luckily they had Mr Beaver there, who was an expert with heavy saws. And Twilight lend a horn as often as she could to cut the metal with magical beams, since blowtorches would risk lighting the the bed on fire. Though she was exhausted, and had to take plenty of breaks due to the magic resistant nature of the armor.

All the while Rarity sat with Sweetie Belle. Holding her hoof while looking deep into her eye. As she did, memory after memory replayed in Sweeties mind of all the good time they had together. Distracting her from the the loud noises and twisting, jerking motions. Every time they did something, Rarity explained exactly what it was. Sometimes even taking over to do it herself. All the while reminding Sweetie to trust her. That everything would be fine.

Maybe it was actually a good thing she didn't have a Heart-Drive just yet. That way she couldn’t feel fear or dread or helplessness over her situation. She just had to block all the memories of such feeling from replaying in her mind. All the bad things that experience said she should be feeling. And just focus on the good memories with Rarity and all her other friends and family. It was like fighting the control program the evil Screwbolt had used. Only this time she was fighting herself. Constantly reminding herself to trust Rarity.

She had replayed the same memory of them playing hoof clapping together a thousand times in an endless loop when the buzz of saws suddenly stopped.

“That's ... odd.” Said Cardiac.

“What is?” Asked Rarity.

“The armor has melted, but the frame underneath seems just fine. In fact its like some of the metal has merged with her frame. But we are unable to remove the reinforcements on her spine. It has completely melted and merged with the frame.”

Rarity looked up over Sweeties head to see her back.

“I don't see it.” She said in confusion.” Granted I am no mechanic but, that looks like a chromed spine to me."

“That's not chrome, Miss Rarity.” Dr Pain hissed. “That's Titanium in it's purest form. It seems to have been drained from the armor and applied to the spine.”

“So? What can we do?”

“Nothing." Said Bronco "In fact I suggest we leave it as it is, since it does not hinder or hurt her. In fact it strengthens her. If the rest of her frame has undergone the same transformation, then maybe she is not as hurt as we feared.”

That was the first good news Sweetie had heard in a long time.
If she had a Heart-Drive, she was sure she would be feeling hope right now. And without it, the logical part of her valued getting stronger.

Though Cardiac feared he had spoken to soon. The removal of the last pieces – Her Flank armor – proved far more difficult. It had melted and twisted in ways far worse than the rest. So bad that it had fused with her frame. And unlike her spine this ugly chunk of burned metal could simply not remain on her.

With a lot of magical precision cutting, from an already exhausted Twilight, they were able to get it off. The unicorn practically stumbled out of the operating room after that, to get some much needed rest.

That's when Cardiac called out again. This time much lest optimistic.

“What is it?” Asked Rarity.

“Its worse than we thought. The circuitry has melted.”

Rarity got a concerned look Sweetie thought she would have shared, if she was able to process the emotion.

“We where able to remove her flank armor but the damage continues underneath. Bronco explained "Here, the very circuitry crystals have melted, along with several main wires and gears. For all we know the damage goes all the way to her rear core.”

“It's weird though." Said Cardiac "The damage is so concentrated. Just this circular area on her flanks. No other part of her has received such damage. Weirder still. It looks like the melted parts have reformed into some kind of pattern. Mrs Rarity. As our crystal expert I think you need to see this.”

Rarity assured Sweetie this would be the only time she left her side and she moved out of her field of vision to see what had got the doctors attention. All Sweetie could do was listen.

At first Rarity gasped, but then she slowly started to hum the same way she did when inspiration entered her mind.

“Yes. There is a pattern to it" She said. "Look at those swirls … And look at that in the middle. It looks like a symbol.”

“its probably just a burn mark or some random lump formed of melted Krystal.”

“No, look closer.”

“look at that... it looks like... It can't be!”

Every-pony gave a collective gasp.

“Sweet Deus ex Machina!” Exclaimed Cardiac.

“Well would you look at that.” Hissed Dr Pain.

“I don't believe it!” Rumbled Thrunk's.

“By the Stars!” Said Bronco.

“Wahaha!” Proclaimed Rarity

“What is it?” Asked Sweetie. But the grown ups where to stunned to answer.

"Tell me Doctor. Do you think this change goes deeper. Perhaps all the way to her core?"

"I don't know. The only way to make sure is to open her up."

Sweetie knew she should be concerned about several grown stallions staring at her behind.
Cheerilee had once told them that it was not okay if anyone was looking at you or wanting to touch you in ways that made you feel uncomfortable. But she had no real memories or experiences of such a thing ever happening to her.

And now Rarity had joined them. Did that make it okay?

When Rarity returned to her field of vision, it was with a new smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
She leaned down and gave sweetie the biggest hug she could.

“Oh Sweetie. Its beautiful.”

“What... What is?”

Rarity put her hoof to Sweeties non existent mouth in a kind, hushing gesture. Her blue eyes were positively tindering with delight.

“Just wait. I promise I will tell you everything. But first I am going to give you a new heart.”

***

Rarity immediately got back to work on the new heart crystal with renewed inspiration.
She sat in front of Sweetie and wove her magic into shaping and reshaping the crystal until it resembled a heart. Apparently looking at Sweetie's melted ass had given Rarity all the inspiration she needed to finally finish the thing.

As she worked, the doctors worked on preparation for the heart transplant. Even the changeling Madam Macadam was able to work short shifts, due to the optimism in the air.

With the final pieces of the armor out of the way, they were able to magically cut through the melted bolts and open her chest.
They told Sweetie to look away. But she said she would not want to deny what she was any longer, and loaded determination for learning as much a possible of herself. (Curiosity was supposed to be her driving force after all.)

She had no past experiences of looking at her own interior. So she had no fitting memories of being grossed out, or panic about having her rib cage opened like a double door. Nor excitement for the unknown.

As she studied her innards, the feeling she chose to load was a memory of simple frightened curiosity she had felt when standing in front of the dark pirate cave that Scoot had promised was full of treasure.

In a way, the hole in her chest was similar to that cave.

A crystal cave with walls that shimmered in the light.
Her inner parts had a sort of shimmer to them. A swirling, complex circuitry like pattern dotted every surface of every component that seemed to shift in a faint pulsing glow. And all the circuitry glowed in multiple shades of pink.
It had not melted - it had reformed.

Now she understood what her sister must have seen. All her inner components must have undergone the same transformation. It really did seem to form symbols that appeared one moment and disappeared the next. And she was surely right. That it was, despite the internal damage, beautiful. Not only because big sis said so and she trusted her judgment. But even without a heart-drive she was able to tell that the pattern was arranged in an aesthetically pleasing manner. Even the processor in her head must share it now Because of this, she knew she should be hoping to receive her new heart-drive soon, so she could feel excitement she should be having.

The crystal that made up the core of her Heart-Drive had shattered into a thousand needle sized fragments that had rattled around her insides. Twilight was able to collect most of them. But many had melted and merged with the surrounding components, adding to the new color and shape.

Upon examination of the pieces she confirmed her theory. The entire heart had been converted into a new material with a completely different signature composition from the original crystal. And that traces of the same signature could now be found in all of Sweeties components.

“How is this possible!” Asked a stunned Cardiac.

“There is more to Sweetie than meets the eye.” Said Twilight “There is more running through her circuitry than just Electricity. It's magic. But not the kind of energy that we ponies use. Its a completely different frequency unique to her. A magic that has slowly transformed her into what she is now.”

“I’ve never heard of a machine possessing magic before. Let alone cast a transformation spell on themselves." said Mr Trunks.

“This is no mere transformation spell” said Macadam. “This is evolution. She has undergone a complete metamorphosis. Or I guess we could call it a “Metal-morphosis”

Twilight made a face at the namesake. But went along with it.

“Yes. The transformation doesn't just extend to her programming.”

“But where is this magic coming from?” Asked mom and dad.

“From the blue disks." said Twilight. "Everything made out of that artificial crystal - from her processors to her circuitry disks - gives of a small magic current that travels on electricity. A magic that slowly transformed all her electrical components into a material with properties similar to those crystals - In other words allowing them to store information and energy. Energy like the one from your heart-drive.”

Twilight smiled as she turned to speak directly to Sweetie.

”If I'm right about this, then your circuitry has absorbed everything. You still have all that makes you you in your system. Every cord, every wire that has carried energy through you has transmuted. Every cybernetic fiber in your body can now carry information, like a cell carries a DNA string. This means that all your emotional data is safe in your system. If we just connect a Heart-Drive, it should all come back to you.”

“So the energy from that old crystal is still in her?”. Said Rarity. “But I sensed it go out before it got destroyed.”

“More like converted it into her own 'magic'. Didn't you Sweetie?”

“Yes.” Said Macadam. “The Metalmorphosis changed the energy in the Heart-Drive to a frequency that could be absorbed by her system."

“Yes.” Said Sweetie in her apathetic voice. “I completed the conversion of my heart-drive mere seconds before I was shot. The experience was ... enlightening. The conversion, however, did not rob me of emotions as you seem to think. If anything it allowed me to finally understand something about myself. That I love Rarity. And that she loves me.”

Rarity grabbed her head with dread.

“We were wrong.” She shuddered “We all thought that the Sweetie we loved would cease to be if the heart was converted. But it was the only thing that truly allowed her to become one with herself.”

Her parents shared her concern.

“We were supposed to transfer your emotions to a new heart drive. But we were afraid that without a Heart-Drive, we would have nothing to transfer.” Lamented her father.

“What if we had actually had replaced the crystal? What if we had thrown the other heart away? We would have prevented her evolution!” Cried her mother.

“Not necessarily” Said Twilight, in an attempt to calm them. “More like prolonged it. All the energy and all that was in the original heart was to be transferred to her new heart anyway.” Se gave a weak smile. “The change was underway the entire time. The things she has gone through, like the alchemy and the... electrocution ...” she said with distaste. “It all simply sped up the process.”

“So in a way. This journey was the best thing that could have happened to her.” Said Dr Pain.

Rarity was about to whack him in the back of the head for that. But stopped herself halfway as she realized the machinist would probably like it.

“One thing I can't understand is how the Heart drive and the logic center became aware of each other in the first place.” Said Macadam
“We put up a pretty good firewall to prevent that from happening.”

Twilight thought for a moment. Back to when Sweetie said she first became aware of her true nature.

“Blood. It was the blood that made it.” She took a long deep breath that turned into a yawn.
“The Metalmorphosis must have been going on for a long time. And spread all the way out to the bottoms of her hooves. When the Cmc had their little explosive accident it tore up her skin and exposed her circuits.
She bled into Metalmorphosed wires and the energy in the blood was absorbed into her system. The blood that had once been mixed with the heart to create the spark. It no doubt recognized the energy and that started the entire process.”

“That, and seeing her mechanical insides could have something to do with breaking her barriers.” Said Cardiac "Since the consciousness was no longer able to deny her true nature.”

“Are you saying that I have a piece of Rarity in my system?” Asked Sweetie.

Twilight smiled.

“Yes. An energy that mixed with the energy of the stillborn infant - thus creating a spark of life. Your life.”

“Fasssscinating. You are making it sound like we have created an artificial soul.” Said Dr Pain.

“Please don't use the term artificial” said father. “It makes it sound not real.”

Sweetie processed this. Was the energy in her like magic? Was it not also her essence, her soul? She had searched for conformation of a soul. And in a way, she had found it in the depths of her design. A soul that Rarity had given her. A life that Rarity gave her. That made her come to one logical conclusion, that still seemed so weird that she had to ask about it.

”Does this mean that Rarity is my mother?”

An embarrassing silence followed.

”No, no, NO!” said Rarity. who's face was getting red. ”Mom and dad created you. And then I created your heart. And the doctors and scientists created your body and... We all... They...We.... Oh!”

She magically summoned a napkin to wipe the sweat from her brow.

”Well. They do say that a foal is a little bit of mother and a little bit of father inside them.” Mr Trunk's chuckled, making Rarity's face go even redder.

“Yessss. We are all one big happy family.” Said Dr Pain.

Twilight giggled, but cut in to save her friend.

“Its more like you have a little piece of your whole family in you. Mother, father and sister.”

Sweetie looked down into her open chest. Several cables had been connected, and were now running out of it to even more monitoring equipment. (In secret, she had made those machines part of her). The thought of having a little bit of her family inside her brought up many memories of past Hearth's Warming Eves. And the gifts they had shared.

She moved her hoof into her chest where the heart was to be. Though it was gone, she still had that energy coursing through her. She touched her components. Registering the energy moving between her circuitry and an exposed wire in her fetlock. She sent a charge flowing out the circuitry and up her foreleg, past her shoulder and down back trough her insides. Round and around her little charges where moving. She could even make little white dots of energy move along the patterns of her Metalmorphosed components
For some reason she thought this would be a happy feeling. Memories of being tickled entered her mind.

“Should she be doing that?” Said Mr Trunk's “Shouldn't that short circuit her?”

Rarity cursed herself for being distracted even one second from her self destructive little sister. But Bronco grabbed her before she pulled Sweeties foreleg out of her. He told her to calm down and to look closer at the little light show playing in Sweeties chest.

“She should. But she isn't. She is in complete control of it” he Said as he looked at a computer terminal. “She is able to direct energy through herself at will.”

“Fasssssinating...”

Sweetie looked up.

“Is this pattern aesthetically pleasing to your eye, sister?”

Rarity nodded. Touched by the gesture.

“Then why are you frightened?”

“I was just scared that you would start pulling at your pieces.”

“I wasn't. But I believe I would wish to give some part of myself to Rarity as repayment for the one she gave me. That way we could both have a piece of each other inside us. Then we could be soul sisters.”

“We already are.” Said Rarity and gave her another hug. “Just please don't pull anything out of yourself!”

“I won't. That would be counter productive.”

Every pony was touched by the scene. Except Dr Pain. Who still wanted answers.

“That still does not explain the big green flames of doom we all saw!” He hissed.

“Maybe she had years of magic energy stored in her systems, that was released when the conversion was completed?” Twilight theorized.

“Released energy? After she was shot and shut down?” said Macadam skeptically. “Did she also actively cast a spell that made her burn with green flames?”

Twilight tapped her head before turning to Sweetie.

"Do you remember what happened when you came back? What did you do?”

Sweetie processed the question for a moment.

“I saw Celestia.”

“You saw Celestia?” they all echoed.

Sweetie did her best to explain what she had seen. But it was all very fussy and unclear. She did not think there were words that could describe where she had been. She had just been with Celestia and then she was back. The only thing she remembered clearly was her conversation.

“Maybe that was just some dream?” Madam Macadam theorized “A near death experience? What do you think Miss Twilight?”

Twilight said nothing. She sat on the floor with both hooves covering her mouth with a look of pure awe.
The others stared at her.

“...Do you know something ...about this?” Rarity asked her friend.

“I... I need to write a letter to Celestia about this” Twilight stammered.

“No! Please Twilight!” Mom and dad begun to plead.

“Its OK” Said Sweetie. “She already knows anyway. I told her everything.”

She turned her eyes to Dr Bronco.

“She asked me to say hi.”

Twilight left the room. Saying that she needed to be left alone with her swirling head for a bit. The rest of the ponies gathered, stared at each other in confusion.

“Are you saying that if she had been shot in the head, she would have come back just fine as long as we contested a suitable replacement to the energy in her?” Dr Pain asked.

“Despite the gruesome image of that … Yes.” Said Bronco.

“Speaking of the skull. One thing I wonder is. Does this “Metal-morphosis” go all the way?” Dr Pain asked, and tapped his head.

“Only one way to find out.” Said Bronco, and turned to Sweetie.
"I'd like to open up your head to see if this Metalmorphosis has affected your main processor as well.”

Rarity actually growled in defense of her sister, but Sweetie gave permission. Truth was she thought she would be curious about that as well.

Bronco went to work with a screwdriver and removed her cranial plate. Almost every pony was standing behind her to look down into her open neck. Sweetie could not see. Her eye searched the room for any reflective surface. Any way to look behind her. But instead found a video camera up in the center of the roof. She searched through the rooms network for a way up there and found that the camera was connected to the same energy grid as all the other equipment. It seemed like a logical conclusion that everything must have been connected so they could monitor and record their research.

She extended herself through the electrical wires of the machines and found herself looking out over the room from an elevated position. From there she could look down on her own open head, and she saw just what the others where seeing. A shimmering orb in shades of pink and purple. With a green swirling cybernetic pattern running over its surface. Sweetie believed this sight would amuse her. For in a way, it looked like she had wrinkles on her brain.

“Doctor. Didn't that orb use to be blue?” Asked Macadam.

“It was.” Bronco sighed as he closed up Sweetie's skull.

***

Inspired like never before, Rarity set on finishing the new heart. She took the pieces of Sweetie's old heart and wove them into the new Heart Drive, using the same spell she had unknowingly used all those years ago. She did not have to push herself to the breaking point this time, as Twilight once again reassured her that all that love and energy was already in Sweetie's systems. And she aided Rarity in the construction of the spell. (In truth, Twilight believed she could have done it herself – but Rarity needed this.)

When it was finished, it was no longer the crude aberration it had once been but a symmetrically perfect heart shaped crystal, that in ways reminded Rarity of the heart she had once gotten as a gift from Spike. (Dr Cardiac theorized that maybe her desire for that gift came from a subconscious recognition of the heart she made for Sweetie as a filly.) It wasn't exactly the same as the original. It was slightly redder and bigger. thanks to the added pieces. Rarity said that it was so Sweetie would be able to process more emotions, without the risk of an overload. (Though Sweetie's logic processors lacked the information to confirm that statement.)

Then came the final tweaks, as they had to drill some holes in the heart and attach the proper contraptions that turned it into a real Heart Drive, and not just a crystal. All of which had to be taken from Sweeties own chest and reformed to fit the new heart. It was then connected to her open chest by several wires, and placed above her like a nutrition infusion bag for a hospital patient.

Sweetie extended herself into it. And as data and energy started circulating between her processor and the Heart Drive, it slowly lit up in a soft light.

“Sweetie. How do you feel?”

“I feel like... like...” She stammered insecurely.

She knew not how she should feel. A dull hollowness filled her and for a moment that made her afraid she would not be able to feel again. She looked at her family. Conflicted between the love she had for them and the sorrow that came with discovering the things they kept from her. And all the horrid things she had thought about them. The horrid thing she had said to Rarity. But still they had still come for her. That made her feel like...

Like...

She felt!

“...I FEEL!”

Realization dawned on her that this was not an old memory of an old emotion. This was new data. New feelings forming in her Heart Drive and flowing into her. Her emotional processor was threatening to overload. She didn’t know what to do with all this emotional energy. She didn’t know which emotion she was supposed to feel.

Her body couldn’t respond to all the commands telling her to smile, scream, shake ect...

Instead, she redirected the energy to her eye sockets.

-::Initiate cry sequences::-

The energy just kept building until a tiny overload caused the lubrication lines under her remaining eye, and her empty eyesocket, to burst.

Rarity ruched to her side. Terrified.

“Sweetie! Whats wrong?”

Sweetie touch her cheek, staining her hoof with lubricating fluid that had started to flow down her cheeks.

“Nothing. I just initiated my crying sequences.”

“Oh Sweetie." Said Rarity, summoning a napkin to wipe her sisters cheeks. "Crying isn’t something you should just “Initiate.”

“I know.”
The few remaining bolts to Sweeties missing jaw stated shaking. And she realized that if she still had lips, they would quiver.
“... But I really feel like crying. Don't worry. Its tears of happiness... Or sadness... I don’t know. Maybe both.”

Both Rarity and Sweetie started crying and laughing at the same time.

As they quieted down, a thought surfaced in Sweetie's mind.
She thought that all of the questions and all of the answers, all of the philosophy and theories she had received along her journey hadn’t taught her anything. For it hadn’t taught her what she wondered most of all.

“Rarity. What am I? I’m not really a pony. But I’m also not really a robot. So what am I? Am I just the copy of the brain pattern that remained in my previous stillborn self? Am I a copy of you because of the magic and blood that you gave me? Or am I something in between?”

Rarity diverted her eyes for a second. It was clear that she had no answer. But when she looked back into Sweeties eye, she said with determination:

“You are Sweetie Belle! And what you are is my little sister! And don’t you ever forget it!”

She emphasized every word with a boop on her nose.

Then, out of no where, she blew a raspberry on Sweetie's belly.

Even though she couldn’t really feel it, Sweetie laughed and waved her arm and legs as memories of the tickling feeling resurfaced from her foalhood and sent her body into the corresponding wailing. The wires that hung from her body waggled and tangled up on the equipment and in her sisters hair. Rarity joined in the laughter as she untangled the knots, before her sister turned herself into a marionette. Her parents to started laughing because she was laughing.

Sweeties laugh sounded cruel and broken coming from an old voice module somewhere off to her side. But it was the most honest laugh she had had in far too long. The only ponies that didn't laugh were the professors, who told her to be careful lest she damage herself further. Sweetie did not care. She wanted that laugh to last forever.

Eventually, they quieted down, and were left staring deep into each others eyes.

“Rarity. I'm sorry I scared you.”

“Oh no. If anyone should apologize it's me. Who hit you... and lied to you and... scared you... away.”

Rarity's voice died down and she collapsed on the bed. Crying into the sheet.
Sweetie petted her mane softly with her one hoof. Softly whispering in her raspy machine-voice that everything was gonna be fine.

She looked up at her parents.

”Why did you never tell me?”

”We are sorry. We should have...” Stammered father.

“But that would have gone against the goal of the project.” Hissed Dr Pain. "To see if artificial life could believe ….”

“Shut up!” Barked mother. “It has nothing to do with any project!”

“No. It was because you deserved to be a normal little filly.” Said father.

“If we had told you.” Continued mother “You would have to go through every day of your life feeling different. Having to hide something from every-pony. We would have made you promise never to reveal your secret to anyone. Because we were afraid of what would happen if people found out. We did not want to put you through that. So we said that you where just like everypony else. So that you could live a normal life, just like everypony else.”

“And you have.” Said father. “You are the most beautiful little filly a parent could ask for. You where so perfectly normal that in time we allowed ourselves to forget the truth. We told ourselves that you where just a normal little filly, with an abnormal little diet.”

“A crystallized diet.” Clarified mother.

"I know." Said Sweetie.

At the confused looks of her parents, she explained that she had been able too look back on her memories and see the code of her taste sensors.

“Well ... Yes." Mother admitted, feeling more than a little ashamed. "There was always a reason your favorite cookies were just for you.
I took special care in grinding up the crystals into powder and hiding it in chocolate filling. And making sure only you got to eat them. Sometimes i wonder if your taste for them was for the chocolate flavor of the crystals inside.”

It all made sense. Mothers talent was making cookies after all.

“If it wasn’t for Rarity we would probably have gone broke” Said father.

Sweetie looked up at Rarity.

“You used to hide them in frosty vanilla - I recognized the substance from your ice cream after the mechanic taught me to eat crystals.”

“Yes.” admitted Rarity. “I'm not so good at baking as mother. And I could not go the Sugarcube Corner and ask for a crystal muffin without drawing attention to myself. So I had to find other ways. I learned from a casual conversation with Spike which crystals tastes most like vanilla.“

She looked over at Twilight.

"Little Spikey Wikey sure likes his gems.”

Sweetie pondered. She ate gems just like a dragon. Despite a new Heart-Drive, she did not know if that should that make her feel cool or freaked out? Regardless of what - she believed she would have some interesting conversations with Spike in the future.

“In the end we all allowed ourselves to forget and lived on like any family.” Said father.

Both her parents and Rarity hung their heads.

“Of course I do!” She bellowed so loud that the old voice module cracked.

Her family surrounded her and gave her a collective hug. They did not care that the oil stained their clothes as it leaked from her eye-sockets.

Sweetie could feel the overload coming. The waves of emotions that flooded her systems and built up till she feared her new heart drive could not take it any more. She knew she might not be able to take another mental meltdown. So she redirected the energy output out to the computer mainframes.
Every screen went crazy as her energy overflowed their systems and sparks shoot out as their circuits overloaded. Even the lights started flickering. And eventually blackened as the fuse went out.

The only light remaining in the room was the Heart-Drive, that shone like a star in the night winter sky.

Author's Note

Merry Christmas Everybody.

Chapter 30. Mark of Life

It took a while to replace the equipment Sweetie had broken in her outburst. Though complaints were to be had, they were all happy Sweetie had not damaged herself.

Cardiac started holding sessions with the Belle family. Allowing them to talk out about their situation with a real psychologist. Screwloose joined them in the middle of the session. As happy as ever to see Sweetie, despite her current state. She even liked Sweetie's oily tears away.

After restoration of the equipment was completed – repairs could finally begin.

They had to prioritize reconstruction of Sweetie's own repair system.
Twilight had to teleport with Dr Pain back to his scrapyard and get an industrial sized maintenance crystal, that they hooked up to Sweetie. With it she was able to start recharging her own repair crystals.

She discovered that the titanium that had been drained from the armor had not just fused into her frame but refilled her restoration buffer as well. They asked her to make her repair systems to scrape of some of that raw material from her frame and use it to repair her stomach.

They told Sweetie to focus restoration of her belly and distribution system. Since they feared their combined programming skills would be lacking in practical knowledge of such advanced Technology. And its creator, Molten Metalhoof, wasn't exactly in any way capable to help.

Luckily she found that the cause of her belly's leakage was but a tiny hole that proved easy enough to restore.
And with her distribution system restored it was simply a matter of feeding her raw materials.

Her belly rumbled like a cement mixer for hours on end, and her diet consisting solely of scrap metal scavenged from the factory. Since she did not have a jaw or a throat they ground it up into tiny pieces that they spoon fed directly into her belly through her open stomach. Sweetie could hear the belly rumbling like a cement mixer all day and night long. The Mechanic had not been kidding when he said her belly was a work of art. So small yet so efficient.

The repairs proceeded smoothly, with Sweetie's own repair system standing for most of the reconstruction. And with her own expert knowledge of her own inner workings guiding the repairs, as everypony did they best to help the repair magic along by welding and stitching pieces of metal and wires in place. Rarity proved surprisingly good at using her magic to meld together broken circuity crystals.

The only parts she couldn't reconstruct were those that were missing, or had been completely destroyed.

Twilight insisted that they used as many of the original parts as they could find, as those parts would have traces of the same transformation she had undergone. Even the parts of her that hadn't been attached when that strange light-show occurred would still have the traces of the Metalmorphosis caused by the electrical magical radiation, and thus contain bits and pieces of Sweetie's data in their circuits.

Digging through the rubble of the ruined factory, they managed to find her jaw and most of the teeth for it. And after some denting, they were able to reattach it.

Screwloose even managed to sniff out and dig up her missing right foreleg from the rubble.

Rarity wanted to reattach it but Twilight stopped her. She set the arm down next to Sweetie and asked her to try and pull herself together.

To see her own arm lying there might have freaked her out once. She remembered how badly she had wanted to be rid of it. To pull all the mechanical pieces out of her so that the flesh could grow back. How she had bitten through the circuitry and sent herself into a frenzy that had scared Rarity so bad she had punched her. Now Sweetie wanted nothing but to punch herself in the head for being so stupid.
But to do that she needed her arm.

She picked it up and examined it.

The metal bars that formed her skeletal base structure had broken clean off in a way that would have to be welded together.
But they still asked Sweetie to try and attach it to herself.

She didn’t know if she could do it. Her Maintenance spells weren't designed for damage this big.
She had self repaired internal damage. Never a missing limb.

Could she do it?

-:: Maybe ::-

At least she had to try.

Even detached, she feel a longing for it. This was a part of her and it wanted to be back in its place.
She held the broken limb up to the corresponding break in the stump hanging from her shoulder. Carefully twisting and turning to mach the cracks like when reassembling a broken vase. Now, if she only had some glue.

She called on her repair program and sent the energy down through the stump. As expected the she was not able to extend her energy further than the edge of the stump. But the area where the two pieces met started to glow in a faint pink light. That was a little surprising, since last time her repair spell-program had been blue. It must have changed along with the rest of her insides.

At first nothing happened. But Sweetie patiently held the leg in place. It was becoming part of her, one way or another.
Rarity took a step forward to help her. But Twilight and Hobo Bobo put a hoof on her shoulders and shook their heads. Then turned to Sweetie with a reassuring smile. Filling her with confidence that she could do this on her own. She sent more energy down her stump. Making the pink glow brighter and brighter.

And finally she could see the bars merging together. The cracks growing thinner and thinner until they disappeared completely. She let go of her leg, seeing it was not failing off.
On the inside, the repair system told her the metal skeleton had become whole one again. But connection could not be established due to the broken cords.

She picked up the torn cords and wires one by one and started fitting them together with their corresponding counterparts. As the wires began to meld together in that pink glow, so did she feel her systems extend into the missing limb. Not only registering, but recognizing it.
The mechanic muscle pistons and sinews that had laid dormant reawakened as motion was restored to the broken limb.

She lifted it above her head and twisted the hoof around her fetlock. It squealed and creaked like a rusty tumble dryer. It was the best sound she ever heard. She pulled it close to her chest and hugged it with her other leg. All thought of hitting herself with this beautiful little hoof where forgotten in another overload of happy emotions that once again sent tears of oil running down her cheeks. Sweetie had never been so happy for her right leg.

The others gathered round and congratulated her on her effort.
As she let go of hugging her own limb, Sweetie, and all gathered, gasped in unison. Streaks of a glowing swirling green pattern where slowly spreading from her shoulder down her reattached leg. They were witnessing the Metalmorphosis occur before their very eyes.

When energy was fully restored to the leg, its inner components had gained the same glowing pattern that her other insides had. examination showed that her leg had also gotten the same qualities as the rest of her.
Sweetie happily allowed the rest of the titanium in her buffer to go into the right leg. So that it would become equal to her other limbs.

***

“I would sure like to study her.” Said Dr Pain. As he was in the process of removing Sweetie's broken air pump for welding and cleaning. “It was not like the armor was useful. Examination showed that it had not received the Metal-morphosis. Rather, it had been just been drained of titanium. But if I could just take a part of her for study. Who knows. We might be able to unlock the secret to cybernetic Life?”

“You will do no such thing” said Rarity. “Any parts of my sister belongs to her.”

Despite Rarity yelling in his face. He kept smiling the same way he always did.

“Speaking of parts” He said as he removed the air pump. This is an opportunity for you to improve yourself. "You don't need an air pump any longer."

“Yes I do” Said Sweetie “I might not need to breathe. But what if I need so save somepony from drowning? or blow up a balloon? Or a birthday candle ...”

“You heard the young miss!" Rarity yelled . “You will clean that airfilter and you will put it back in! You and your pack of fiends have done all the damage you ever going to do!"

“Fine!” He hissed.

As they took out the air pump, Sweetie could see the desires in his eyes. But it faded away as the cybernetic energy and swirling panthers did the same. Upon examination, there was not a single trace left of the energy in the detached component.

Disappointed he put it back.

"Still." Said Bronco "If there is anything you want us to change, now that we have the opportunity... "

Rarity was on him like a wolf.

“NO! She will be restored exactly like she was! ”

At first, Sweetie's own response would have been similar. She did not want anything to change. She just wanted things to go back to the way they where. But then she began thinking.

She looked up at her own heart. It was weird having the source of all your emotions hanging above you like an nutrition infusion bag to some hospital patient. (But in many ways - that's what she was.)
It was slightly bigger than her old and would have trouble fitting into her chest.

A memory surfaced about how she would soon become the shortest in class. Outgrown by her friends.

With those things in mind she came to a conclusion.

“Actually... Could you make me a little taller?”

***

Finally, they were able to put her new Heart-Drive back in her chest where it belonged. (It was almost a shame that such a work of art would be hidden inside her.) As they did, they saw that small lines of cybernetic energy had already begun to form upon the outer edges of the Heart-Drive. But this time everypony smiled about it. This time, there would be no firewalls or containment spells around it. This time they knew the metalmorphosis was perfectly natural for her.

With no more original parts to be found, they had to find replacements. Parts they had to scavenge from the destroyed foal bots on the factory line.

Twilight was actually worried that new parts might be incompatible with Sweetie. That she would reject them due to them not sharing the same energy structure as the rest of her.

She did not need to worry. Sweetie was able to extend herself into the new parts just like she could extend herself into all electronic devices. And made them part of herself. Who knew. Perhaps with time they would undergo the same transformation.

In truth Sweetie was a bit excited to receive new parts. It was like receiving Hearth's Warming gifts.
A new battery, a new digestion tube, a new ear, a few new teeth, some nuts and bolts. And a new eye.
Though by far the most interesting of the new parts was a new voicebox.

Sweetie played around with it and had some fun when she found out the voicebox had many tones and pitches – including some very deep once that could make her sound like a sound like a colt or an old stallion. Though she had trouble getting it to sound exactly like her old voice. Perhaps the difference lay in that the sound no longer traveled through layers or organic skin. Perhaps it was that it had not undergone the transformation as the original. It didn't matter too much. It was far better than to hear the horrid rasping of an old broken voicemodule.

Dr Cardiac comforted her with the thought that all little girl's voices change as they grow up.

She was in the middle of fine tuning and syncing the voice up to her jaw movement when her parents came with another gift for her. A set of eye lenses, with green irises similar the one she had lost.

Sweetie could not even remember when she had lost her eye lenses. But she remembered a question that had bugged her, ever since somepony had said that she had her fathers eyes. She wondered what that meant, since she and dad had a completely different eye color.

Father smiled when she asked.

“That's because I picked your eye color darling.”

“Oh..." Sweetie sighed, and lowered her head. " I'm sorry for losing them … and my voice … and my skin.”

-::Initiate cry sequence::-

-::“I'm sorry for becoming so ugly”::-

“Sweetie my dear.” Mother comforted. “It does not matter what color your eyes are. Or how your voice sounds. Or how you look. The only thing that matters is that you are alive.”

She and dad leaned in and hugged their daughter.

Sweetie had always thought her exterior defined her. Her flesh and blood had defined her as a pony until recently. But maybe what truly defined her came not from the outside. Not even from the gears and circuits inside. But from what flowed forth from the very depths of her being. In that case – if one counted from the inside and out - her exterior shell was a very low priority.

***

After much conversing, her parents fell asleep on the edge of the bed.

With her guardians asleep, her heart drive in place and the final repairs dragging out on time, Sweetie found herself processing a new feeling: Boredom. Though she was never alone, as the Belle family took turns by her side and talking with her, they eventually all had to sleep after the trying week. Like her mother, who had fallen asleep with her head on the bed.

Deprived of the ability to sleep, Sweetie was left to her own devices. She wished she could go out to see the snow that was no doubt falling outside. But even though her chest was closed, and her internal parts in place, she was still hooked up to a lot of equipment. So if she could not go outside, she might as well go inside. Inside all the electronic devices. With nothing left to do anyway (and to save herself from pondering) Sweetie set out to explore the systems she was connected to. Most where just boring monitoring stuff. But she did find a surveillance system that allowed her to peek into the other rooms.

The cameras had both audio and video receptions, so she could both hear and see what was going on.

-::Camera 14: Mainframe::-

“...so it was the crystals that drove everypony insane?" Said Bronco.

“Yes.” Said Twilight. The artificial crystal had the power to slowly transmute anything that sent electric signals through them. Like the synapses in a brain."

Sweetie had apparently entered mid conversation. They were standing in a big room with more Computer terminals. Presumably the room they had gotten all the spare once from after she destroyed the first set.

Twilight was standing next to Bronco, who was typing on the mainframe. The Mainframe wasn't connected to any systems Sweetie had managed to get access to. She wondered what he was doing in these dark and dusty halls. Or what he was typing.

Apparently so did Twilight.

“So what are you doing down here anyway? You are not looking for more fuse boxes to fix I presume.”

“I'm just making sure these mainframes are cut of from the rest of the facility." Bronco explained "Here, we stored all our recordings from the blue disks. And I just don't want her to see what's in here. From the way that little mare can extend herself into all electronic systems she is connected with, I wouldn't be surprised if she tried.”

They both looked up at the camera. Sweetie suddenly felt like she had been caught spying and wondered if she should back away. But then their attention returned to the glowing screen.

“Then why not cut the power?” Twilight asked.

“Don't worry. They run on their own generator.”

“And why are they turned on?” she asked skeptically.

“I'm just Making a note here about what a huge success this project was.”

“Why?” Asked Twilight. “Its not like any one of us are going to come back here. In fact I don't know what will happen to this place once Celestia gets here.”

“I just need to get a little closure on a chapter of my life. That is all.” He said as he finished typing.

With a final click he entered the final log he closed down the mainframe with a most relived smile on his face. His whole body eased up like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Satisfied?” she asked.

“Its hard to overstate my satisfaction.” He Answered. "Now I'm finally able to cross this bridge - and move on.”

Sweetie zoomed in on the Hobos flank, now that he was no longer wearing a trench-coat - his mark had been laid bare.
Strangely enough - It was not of a wrench or a computer, or anything one would associate with science - It was a bridge, plain and simple.

Apparently, his statement made even Twilight cast a look towards his behind.

Bronco laughed.

"You can not cross a bridge until it's finished." He continued "That you might say is my specialty. Or in some cases my greatest weakness. I never could leave anything unfinished. Only now that I know this project has come to its most satisfying conclusion, am I finally able to cross that bridge onto the next path of my life.”

”And, what path is that?”

”Who knows? The road ahead is full of branching paths. You just have to walk them, to find out where they lead.”

Twilight tilted her head with a questioning look.

“I know what you are thinking.” Said Bronco. “You are thinking about scanning my head like the others. You are thinking I must be as brain damaged as them.”

“Not at all. I have a friend who is a thousand times stranger. Only difference is she would not be able to sit still for five minutes less her life depended on it.“

Bronco nodded in understanding, and took a long relaxing breath. Then he lost all composure, lowered his head and started crying.

“Whats wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He sobbed. “That's what is so beautiful. Nothing is wrong with that little mare. Not even after what she went through has she forgotten how to smile.”

-::Camera 5 hallway::-

She saw Brick and Dr Cardiac walking around with Screwloose following closely behind.

“… and all the patients are accounted for?” Cardiac asked.

“Yes boss." Said Brick "Mr Trunk's agreed to watch over them for now. And I got to say, we got ourselves the craziest bunch I ever seen. Our old friend Mad Marrow clearly feels desperately drawn to the green one - Metalhoof. Who in turn is absolutely fixated with his power fantasies and patriotic paranoia. But still not as deluded as that fanatic Shockwave. Sully was having full time just patching up what was left of that wreck.

Then there was the lovely couple of Teddy and Neurosa of the Screw 'n Bolt Family. Or "Screwbolt" for short.

Cardiac corrected his glasses.

"Yes - I went over the family records that was stored in the mansion - Apparently she comes from quite a successful family of tinkerers and toy-makers. And while she inherited both her family's fortune and their wit, she also inherited another family trait."

"Let me guess." Brick tapped his forehead. "They all had 'a screw loose'? "

The mare behind them barked at the mentioning of her name.

"A little looser for every generation" Said Cardiac. "Neurosa was suffering from a pressure that she had to excel, like her family had done before her. Whether this pressure was forced on her by her parents - Or if she simply imagined it, I do not know. Either way she believed she had to carry on her family name. "

"And to do that - She would need an heir," said Brick.

"And that's where our lovely Mr Teddy comes into the picture. A stallion with a sense for economy and marketing."

"But lacking in the taco making department..." Brick cut in.

"I can't speak of how healthy their relationship was before." Cardiac continued. "Maybe she only wanted him for his
financial benefactors. Maybe they really loved each other. But once they had their daughter, everything changed."

Behind them, Screwloose started to whimper.

"Her daughter's mental illness became the final nail in Neurosas already strained mind. It spelled the end for her marriage, her business, and her fortune. She became obsessed with creating the perfect daughter and ... well, you know the rest."

"Strange that she already had a husband" said Brick. "Because our last patient wont stop talking about how he and Neurosa are gonna marry. He is as fixated on a perfect future with her as Mad Marrow is with Metalhoof. Prism Prestige he calls himself ..."

"The one you tackled of the Balcony?" Cardiac asked "Yes - Quite the superiority complex, sprinkled with some obsessive composure. "
The stern professionalism melted off his face and was replaced by a childish grin. “...And I must say you really know how to tackle Brick.”.

“Like you tackled that green fella Metalhoof? You must have been a really good linebacker yourself boss. Maybe we should play a few games you and me.”

“That doesn't sound bad at all. Maybe we could arrange something with the staff. The doctors vs the caretakers.”

“What about the nurses? Think we can get them to join to? ”

“If not, we'll always need a good cheerleader team.”

They both laughed at their 'grown up humor'.

Screw Loose walked up beside Cardiac and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder- Cardiac put his front leg around her and scratched her behind the ear.

“Should you really be treating her like that sir? What about not encouraging delusions?”

“You know what. Given what I've learned I'm not sure it is a delusion. Its just who she is. We can't change who a pony is. But we should not think any less of them for that. Sometimes we should just let them be who they are and they will be better of fore it. Sometimes its we who need to change and adapt.”

“Cant cure them all, I guess.”

“Sometimes proper care, and a little sympathy, is the only cure”

Brick tilted his head.

“Are you speaking about her, or the little one?”

Cardiac smiled.

“Both.”

-::Camera 26: Bionics lab::-

Rarity was talking with Madame Macadame. From the look on big sister's face, she did not like where the conversation was going.

“What do you mean we can't restore it?” She yelled.

“I'm sorry miss Rarity." Said Madame Macadame "But without anything to clone from, we have nothing to recreate a new disguise.”

“Its not a disguise! its part of who she is!”

Twilight entered the frame. Apparently she was done down by the mainframe.

“Can't we use the regeneration crystals of hers? Shouldn't they have all the data we need to create a new skin?”

Madame shook her head.

“We cant recreate anything from data alone. And if you are thinking about magicing up a new skin from the energy in the crystals, I'm sorry, but you know no unicorn can read the energy coming from her. As for using an entirely new tissue, I fear your theory about rejection might come true miss Sparkle. Those crystals have been connected to the energy of her skin through her entire life. They might not be compatible with any other tissue. And as of the metalmorphosis she has undergone, I don't think we can reprogram any part of her. Maybe if we could teach her to reprogram herself to accept a new tissue...”

"But it still would not be the same!" Rarity aborted.

“No. It will not. If we had but a single drop of blood or a straw of straw of hair of the original tissue we would be able to regrow the whole thing. But without that....” She shook her head.

Twilight sighed. “Well. There is always illusions I can cast. We could rely on camoflaging spells or holographic prism stones. But..."

“THERE IS!” Sweetie screamed at the top of her voicebox. ”THERE IS SOMETHING LEFT!”

Her mother shot up from her slumber and everypony came rushing into her room asking what was the matter.

Sweetie explained:
“There is something left of me! Somepony cut my tail off and put in on his wagon. It was a garbage collector who drove me to the trash site! You can use that to restore my skin!”

“How did you know what we were talking about Sweetie?” Asked Rarity “We where in the other room.”

”Oh. I saw you.” She said. ”On the video cameras “

If she could blush. She would have.

“Amazing.” said Dr Pain. “She is able to extend herself into any system.”

“Why is the camera system connected to these monitoring equipment?” Asked Twilight.

“So we could monitor and record visually, of course.”

***

Twilight had a very strange letter to write to White Tail Woods garbage disposers. In it she declared for all their wagons to be searched for a Pink ponytail. She wrote especially for the search parties to keep their eyes open for any wagon decorated with tails. And upon finding said pink tail, they were to bring it to her. By royal decree.

Sweetie could not thank Twilight enough. There was hope, that she would get her old look back.

Still, Even if we are able to get a sample and it is good enough to use, it would still take months to regrow.

At first Rarity said that Sweetie simply had to be hospitalized until then. But Sweetie had no intentions of remaining in this dusky depressing place for that long. Not while she had a fully functional body again. If she had to she would walk out “naked” for she had no intentions of hiding her true self anymore. She did not care what her exterior shell would be any more.

“I want to be able to feel a mothers hug again! Don't make me wait months for that. Not when I know there are alternatives!”

“I know they made something so that robots could sense touch”

She read their questioning looks before they opened their mouths.

”Blue Disks." She said - With a look at Bronco. "I found them wherever you guys have been. You liked to talk to yourselves a lot!”

“Its true.” Said Bronco. “We did work on some alternative exterior shells. Before Neurosa decided to use the skin that Dr Heartache - or as you know her - Madame - had conjured up with her alchemy. I never knew why she would have needed so many alchemicaly created bodies ... ”

Everyponies minds seemed to venture out into the factory hall, where the skin sown onto the dolls still lay amongst the parts.

“In ANY case”. Said Rarity, as she finally yielded “We are going to make you the best exterior shell one can get. But don't get to used to it. Once your skin is restored you are back to looking like yourself again.”

Bronco went to the storage area and came back with what in Sweetie's eyes looked like an ordinary metal plate. But the underside was covered in a layer of cybernetics.

“This” He explained “Is an experimental touch sensitive metal. Magically crafted to be as flexible as a pony's skin. We had these made, in case we would lose your biological skin. They should give you the sense of touch back, until we are able to recreate your organic tissue.”

“Why do you even have that?” Rarity asked.

“Since we were already experimenting with nerve cluster crystal and other ways to mimic body functions into circuitry. Marrowline came up with the idea of making a skin prototype that could sense all that we can. The lower surface is filled with hundreds of microscopic nerve-crystals, copied from the skin in a pony.

“How did you do that?” Asked Rarity

“Please don't ask.”

“Are we really gonna put more ponies' suffering into our daughter?” Dad asked in an unnerving tone. That made Sweetie flinch in her decision. But Bronco was quick to silence their worries.

“Don't think about it like that. We all gave of ourselves willingly, because we wanted this project to succeed.”

“Sacrifice in the name of science.” Said Pain ”You would not let our sacrifice go in vain, would you?”

He was about to get another blow to the head for trying to guilt trip Sweetie. But the blow - again - stopped mid air. Dr Pain actually looked more hurt by this than if he had received it.

By a series of wires, Bronco connected the plate to Sweeties foreleg, to the sensory ports that had once housed her organic nervous system. Then asked her to extend herself into the new component.

She complied but did not understand how a piece of metal was ever gonna replace her fur. At first she didn't feel a thing. But when he stroke his hoof over the plate it sent an electrical tingle down her spine that made her body shiver in satisfaction, in response. Like a cat would purr when stroked by its master.

She felt him stroking her leg. It was weird, since the plate he was stroking wasn't even on her leg yet. Weirder still, since it felt cold and exposed without any fur.

It was gonna take a long time to get used to. But just the feeling of touch brought her great happiness.

After the successful test - construction on Sweetie's new metallic exterior started. They bent and cut the plates into physiologically correct pieces and dyed them white after her original color.

Rarity insisted that reconstruction of her face came first, since it required the biggest and most careful work. Sweetie felt like she was back in the boutique being drafted as a living mannequin, as her sister critically dismissed option after option trying to find one set that would bring her face closest to its original form. (At least she could leave her body and go mess with one of the computer terminals.)

It was slow and tedious work as they attached, removed and reattached the new plates to her facial frame and the synthetic muscles that controlled her facial expressions. Which Sweetie had to disengage so they could work properly and then reactivate so they could see the result. Though they told her to not turn on her touch sensors on until construction was completed, since she might not want to feel the welding, the tightening of screws or the potentially very awkward coupling as they connected the plate's optic fibers to the sockets that had once holstered clusters of her organic nervous system.

Sweetie was more concerned with that she had more hooves in her face than Rarity when she did makeup.

(Needless to say, Dr Pain was not allowed to be present during this part.)

When she was finally done Sweetie received a mirror to see the result of her facial reconstruction.

She looked into the mirror. Into those green eyes. Despite knowing they were magical lenses, they looked as lively as they always had. Above them, she had two curved pieces for eyebrows. They bent a little in response to her anxiety. She looked like a doll. A bald doll. The white plates that was her new face glistened like new polished porcelain. She would have thought it would take a million pieces to recreate the many many ways a face could move. But it actually only required a few big pieces for her cheeks, muzzle, chin and forehead. She was afraid her face would be stiff and unmoving. But the flexible alloys lived up to their name as they bent and stretched without resistance when she moved her mouth and yaw around.

She blinked. And a set of round plates that were her new eyelids came down and covered her eyes.

Curiously she extended herself into the face and instantly began to feel the new pieces move. Her systems began transmitting and receiving new data from the plates, as her energy circled around the new parts like blood to an organ. Sweetie poked the face and felt her hoof scraping over her cheek. It felt cold. Sleek and exposed without any fur. Yet, in a way she could not explain, it felt right. Like this was the way things where supposed to be. Despite everything, she felt happy with her new look. The line that was her lip-less mouth bent upward into a smile.

She sat with the mirror and tested emotions. Angry, sad, smiling, frowning, sticking out her tongue...

... Or what was left of her tongue.

She opened her mouth wide and studied the black hole that had once been filled with rosy gums. Though the had rows of new perfectly wight teeth - they contrasted poorly with the black burnt stick that had been the core of her tongue.

At that moment Madame Macadam came in, carrying a tray of mugs of refreshments for the overworked repair crew.

Sweetie threw the mirror across the room. It knocked the tray out of Macadam's grip and both mugs and mirror shattered on the floor. The changeling got so scared she jumped out of the form of the traveling alchemist and into the form of Dr Heartache.

Sweetie buried her face in her hooves and burst into sobs. Once again the lubrication lines in her eyes bust and oil stated dripping like tears. To the credit of her new face - she actually felt the sticky substance on her cheeks.

Rarity scolded Dr Heartache on breaking their promise of not waving anything edible in front of the “starving” filly. Macadam begged a thousand times apology (saying that the stress had made her forget) before she ran outside to puke because of the negative vibes.

Meanwhile, Bronco moved to comfort Sweetie.

“He... He deleted my taste.” she sobbed. "M...Metalhoof ... He deleted everything."

“No he didn't Sweetie.” Said Bronco. “He might have turned off your taste sensors. But I doubt anypony – least of all him. Could delete anything from you”

“But.. But I tried to eat later … And I could not taste anything!”

She started so shiver.

“I will … Never eat again...”

“Didn't you say that you tongue got destroyed after you licked on a storm tower?”

Sweetie nodded.

“Well then there's your answer.”

“But now I've lost my taste sensors!”

“So you have lost your hardware. But you still have your software right?”

“What?” She did not understand what hard and soft wares he was talking about.

“I mean you still remember how everything tastes don't you? And I think your sense of taste is tied to that data.Remember what Twilight said. You still have all that makes you who you are inside you. So if you upload those memories to a set of new taste sensors I'm sure you will be able to enjoy all the sweets in the world.”

“You think that will work?”

“Sweetie. You were just recently able to regain all your feelings by loading up your memories into a brand new Heart-Drive. You regained your sense of touch by extending yourself into a metal plate, something you where never programmed for. You were also able to restore memories that should have been lost to you, because you remembered them in your heart. If you are truly able to recover entire files from ghost code and fragment that must be attached to your memory - then is it not fair to assume that you can restore your taste data to a pair of new sensors from memory?”

Sweetie sure hoped she could. After all - had she not restarted her heartbeat simulator after the evil mechanic had deleted all data from it?

Bronco booped her nose.

“Now, promise me that you wont cry until you at least try.”

Sweetie nodded. Bronco smiled and wiped the oily tears of her cheeks.

“In the meantime I'm going to make a way for you to cry without damaging yourself. And I want to promise you, that the next time you cry, its gonna be tears of joy.”

***

Rarity put all reconstruction on hold. Telling everypony to focus on making Sweetie a new tongue.

This tongue would be made out of the same alloys that were to become her new skin.
Sweetie thought it weird. Did that mean she would be able to feel taste on her entire body?

The professors explained that the tongue would be the only part of her connected to her taste sensors. So she would not be tasting any food she spilled on herself or any mud she got on her hooves.

That was true. She had not been able to taste the oil on her cheek.

Her mouth got a thorough reworking too. Apart from replacing the taste sensors, and missing teeth, her palate was outfitted with a touch sensitive synthetic rubber. That way, she was able to feel her tongue moving inside her mouth.

The new tongue was the only part of her they did not dye. So it carried the silver like glow of the metal. Brick made a joke about how they had to watch out for Sweeties silver tongue in the future - And was called a prick by Sweetie's parents.

Her new silver tongue proved flexible as she was able to count her teeth with it, and she could feel her breaths run through her mouth with her new air pump. Sweetie was sure it would be weird to eat with a tongue of metal. But it was better than never eating at all.

In preparation for the test. Her mother had been baking cookies (it was her specialty after all).
A whole tray of minty, lemon, carrot, strawberry, blueberry, lemon and the entire rainbow of the taste spectrum was placed before her. Along with several drinks ranging from milk to juice to water. As well as some bitter looking fruit and vegetables.

Never had Sweetie felt so nervous to take a bite of a cake. Not even when she got caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. The whole family was watching her and the doctors where watching their monitors. All anxiously awaiting her reaction from that one first bite.
It would be her very first thing she tasted with her new tongue. She felt a longing for sweetness, and licked her mouth. But it was awkward to have no lips to lick. Or any saliva watering her mouth.

She closed her eyelids and focused inwards. She ran her energy through the new taste sensors as she thought of everything she could remember eating - ever. She carefully reconstructed everything - remembering how her she had made her taste sensors reacted in the diner. Except this was more than muffins - this was everything. And she feared it would become nothing but a pseudo taste. That just like without a heart drive she would feel nothing but the memory of taste. The same old data being replayed over and over again.

Therefore, to not let her mind load any old memory’s, she kept her eyes closed and picked a cookie a random.

Sweetie took a big bite, chewed, and let the chocolate melt her tongue.

Chocolate...

The sensation hit her as hard as when her new heart drive had come online.
Everypony gathered held their breath as her eyes went wide and the cookie fell from her hoof.

“Sweetie... Does it taste like you remember?” Asked her nervous mother.

“No” she said “It tasted better!”

Like a starving glutton she threw herself over the rest of the tray. Taking a bite out of every cookie and a sip from every drink. Not even bothering to finish one before biting down on another. Just wanting feel the taste of everything. Her mind was overwhelmed by several flavors at once. The professors where complaining that she was going to fast for them to study properly. But Sweetie told them, beyond doubt, that her mouth was working just fine.

Sweetie filled her belly until her body functions processor and stomach nerve-cluster crystal told her would get a tummy-ache.
She turned them off and filled herself until she was literally full to bursting. Then she laughed about not being able to get fat. When Rarity afterwards handed her toothpaste and toothbrush she tried to dismiss it.

“My teeth can not get any holes!” She said, “I don’t have to brush any more.”

“Yes you do little miss. Old food between your teeth will give you a horrible breath”

Sweetie pouted “I don’t need to breathe.”

“But it still smells!”

***

Eventually she stood. Reconstructed from hoof to horn. The last plate attached to her frame and polished to perfection. Unlike her armor, her new form was smooth and slender and gave her the proper proportions of a filly. The cherry on top was that she had even gotten an artificial mane and tail made of fiber cords.

It felt like a wig, except it was bound directly into her cranial plate, woven with cybernetic wires of her own design. Except, apart from the mane of copper she had worn, that only really felt electric signals, this mane and tail was connected to her touch sensors and should allow her to regain the scene of having hair again. (Like the plates that made up her new frame.)

Rarity had taken the liberty of styling and dying it into a copy of her old hairstyle.

All that was left was extending herself into it.

Sweetie had not turned on her scene of touch since the fire. But if Twilight was right, she only needed to extend herself into her new parts and copies of her programming that would have remained in her memory would load onto their hardware and do the rest. Just like her sense of taste with her tongue. She would only need to pull it up from deep inside of her.

Sweetie closed her eyes, and went on a inner journey - channeling her energy through herself. Feeling all that she was. From the deepest smallest cybernetic crystal to the alloys of her frame, out the plates of her new skin to the tip of her fiber cord hair straws.

As she did - there was suddenly a spark from inside her that she couldn’t identify. A tingling feeling from her behind.

-::Reconstruction in progress::-

Sweetie opened her eyes, and looked down at her flank-plate just in time to see a symbol appearing. A mark being burned into the alloy from the inside and out. The metal twisted and reformed as her repair program worked out a design that had been added to the very core of her being.

On her hips - a mark appeared.

It was a symbol of a heart. And not just any heart. It had the outline of her heart shaped crystal heart-drive. Framed with a background shape of a cogwheel. the whole symbol gleamed on her new polished flank-plate, contributed to that on the heart - thin swirling cybernetic lines could be seen - pulsing with energy.

She couldn’t comprehend this. Robots couldn't get marks. It was logically impossible! Yet there it was. And she could not believe its existence. No schematic indicated that it should be there. She scanned her interiors several times. But there was nothing wrong. No file errors, no glitch in her repair programming. Nothing wrong with her visual system.

She rubbed the hip with her hoof. But the mark did not come off. She closed her eyes several times but it did not go away
She looked over at her other hip and saw a symmetrical identical symbol emblazoned there as well.

She finally had her mark.

Words could not contain her excitement. Her Heart-Drive overflowed with a joy that pushed every other feeling out of her mind as she jumped up and down in the bed. cords and wires wobbling from her back.

Everypony was staring at her. At her flank. She didn’t care She wanted to show off her mark. The grown stallions could stare all they wanted.

Rarity approached from the crowd. Only the wires on her back kept Sweetie from launching herself of the bed into her embrace.

“Sis! sis! I got my mark! I finally got my cute little mark!”

Rarity walked up to the bed and gave her the biggest, longest hug since forever. Big sister had never felt so warm. Sweetie's fibercord mane tickled with static electricity under the gentle strokes she gave her. She never wanted to let go. And apparently neither did Rarity.
She leaned in even closer and whispered softly into her ear.

“Yes Sweetie. You got your mark. I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier. But I believed you needed your heart to fully appreciate it.”

Sweeties mane registered a wet dripping as Rarity's tears started to fall upon it.

“Truth is I wanted to get your skin, in hope that the mark would appear on it. I had no idea that this could happen.”

“Fassssshinating” Dr Pain hissed, his eyes on the console, and not on Sweetie “I've never seen data like this. This program could revolutionize the research of cutie mark acquisition. Perhaps this can give me understanding to giving my little darlings their own purpose.”

Rarity gave her a big long kiss on the forehead.

“Happy Hearth's Warming Eve Sweetie.”

“Yes." Sweetie cried in response "My heart is warm this evening, sister. My heart feels so warm! I feel so happy and warm and ….”

She looked up at Rarity. She had totally forgotten about Hearth's Warming Eve. Was that today? She had lost all sense of time being hospitalized in this facility.

“I... I got my heart … On Hearth's Warming Eve?”

“Visibly yes.” Said Twilight ”But I'm sure you had it in your system even since the metalmorphosis reformed your inners ...”

Rarity raised a hoof to Twilight's lips.

“Hush darling. Don't ruin the moment.”

Sweetie was too busy reeling in happy emotion to let the eggheads theory’s get to her. She felt her own cheeks getting wet. Not from oil. But from a water like substance. Small ports had opened in response to her cry sequence and let a tear like lubrication leak out from a set of small artificial tear sacks that Bronco had installed under her eye sockets.

"Look Bronco!" She cried as she leaned over Rarity's shoulder. "Tears of joy!"

“Oh Sweetie. I hope you are not just initiating cry sequence again.” Said Rarity.

“No. But I am setting phazers to hug!” Sweetie shouted as she hugged her sister back with all her might.
Rarity gave up a yelp as she was lifted up by all of Sweeties mechanical strength. Sweetie eased her grip as to not hurt her sister, and they both collapsed onto the bed in laughter and tears.

The others gathered round the bed. Twilight magically made some candles appear floating in the air, lit with a purple flame.
Then disconnected the wires from Sweetie. No more tests. No more experiments.

As she was disconnected from the computers and generators, (and by extension from the entire complex) Sweetie felt smaller. But at the same time, bigger than she had ever been.

She untangled from Rarity's hug and jumped down on the floor. She registered the cold air temperature in the complex. Her metal skin felt exposed and naked. Her voice sounded a little bit off and her new tongue was more sensitive.

Everything about her felt off in some tiny way, perhaps it could all be categorized under the big notion that she would never feel like a normal little filly again. Because she wasn't. Yet that thought did not bring as much sorrow to her heart as it should. For she had found something inside herself that she doubted many others had. She would just have to get used to the rest. She was happy just to be alive. And she finally knew that she was alive. And that she was with friends and family that she really loved.

Love...

With a big smile she turned to Dr Cardiac.

“I'm the only pony who's emotions actually comes from the heart!” She shouted.

The two of them laughed, as everyone else just looked confused. Only Twilight and Bronco seemed to get the joke - after a few seconds of thinking.

Sweetie then turned back to Dr Bronco, showered him with thanks in a way only an over-exited filly can do, and she told him that she had found the things that keeps her heart warm.

In the spur of the moment she individually thanked every one in the room. Even Dr Pain and Madam Macadam. The changeling looked so jealous that she could not feed of all the joy radiating of the cybernetic filly. But she still remained to take part in the festivities. And bask in everypony's shared happiness.

Mr Trunk's brought down an old gramophone from the mansion above. On it, he played an old record of an instrumental chorus of the familiar Hearth's Warming carol. And together, they all stared singing.

Sweetie joined in, and her volume rose till her voice dominated the room, as she sung the lyrics from end to end. Except for the last verse, she started composing her own version of the Hearth's Warming carol.

“The fire of friendship burns in my heart
As long as it burns I shall not drift apart.
Although steel an circuit might be taboo
I know singing and laughter will see me through ...
… Will see me through.”

In a weird way, this felt like it had been the best Hearth's Warming Eve ever.

Mom and dad had baked a cake for her. Twilight brought one of the candles down on top of the cake. And they asked Sweetie to make a wish.

She said:

“I don't need to wish for anything. I already got everything I wished for. I got a family!”

Though if she had to wish for anything. It would be that she got to stay with them forever.

With that wish she blew out the candle.

***

Celestia arrived early by chariot at the Screws n' Bolts toy factory.

It was very rare for her to make a trip to such a secluded area, though she believed this was an errand she had to oversee personally.
Guards had arrived before her to secure the sight. She had left Twilight in charge of them until she arrived.

A prison wagon was being pulled up to the front door where a row of shaggy looking characters where lined up.

An armored stallion marched up to her and bowed.

“Your highness. We have secured the prisoners and they are ready for transport”

Celestia let her eyes slide over each and every one of them as they were escorted out of the building.
It was not her job to judge them. Courts and prosecutors would see to that they revised proper punishment. But they had hurt the family of one of the bearers. One of Twilight closest friends and the littlest one at that - she did not rob them of the illusion that she could have cast judgment on them here and now.

As they passed her by, one of the prisoners, a pegasus reeled in a wheelchair since both his wings, forelegs, face and torso was covered in bandages - threw himself out of his medical chair and fell to the ground in deep bow, and started praising.

“O great Celestia. O holy Celestia. Though wise and merciful, You graze us with Your presence. Inside lies a demon in wait. I have failed to disperse it. But now that you are here I know that my cause is just.”

Celestia held in a sigh. She had not had to deal with fanatics in many decades.

There was a time when once she might have ravished in such divine attention. But that was before she saw the unhealthy nature of such ways. Before she saw how much it could hurt others. How much it hurt her sister.

She did not want to encourage such things from her subjects. She might be a powerful sorceress with control of the sun. She might have discovered the secrets of immortality, but she was no god. Though she always did the best for her subjects, she was no all-knowing deity. She made mistakes. And there was nothing more dangerous nor stupid than to put blind faith in someone who could make mistakes.

She wanted to tell him his place. To tell him how wrong he was.

But fanatics had a way of twisting everything she said into some riddle with a deeper meaning than suited their point of view.

She handled him the only way she could.

She just walked on past him, without even looking at him, and headed into the building.

***

The inside of the factory was not a pretty sight.

The clean up team had only begun surveying the damage. The factory halls where a burned wasteland of twisted machinery and broken conveyorbelts. Soot covered everything from the walls the windows and the roof. The place had a foul smell of burned rubber, oil and heated metal. Gray dust particles were falling like a crude imitation of the snow outside.

Parts of what looked like mechanized ponies, big and small, were scattered over the floor. And there were clear signs of combat with weapons and projectiles of several unknown types littered the sight. Like there had been a massacre of mechanized children, by the hoofs of what looked like several large suits of armor.

In the middle of it all, it looked like a big explosion had taken place. The floor was covered in a big burn mark.

An oddly shaped burn mark, with the outline of a cogwheel - and the inner line of a heart.

Even so, through the destruction came a distinct sound of holiday carols.

Celestia followed the sound of cheering and music through the ruined factory. It brought a smile to her face that even in such a dystopian place there could be found joy.

A few guards where standing watch in a hallway entrance to the deeper parts of the facility.They told her that Twilight had barred off the inner parts of the factory. Forbidding anyone from entering that area. She suspected she knew why.

In respect for Twilight's secrets, Celestia told her escort to leave her be and continued down the hallways alone.

It didn't take long for her to reach the source of the festivities. Everypony was apparently crammed into only one room in the whole complex. And were all singing a chorus of the old Hearth's Warming Pageant accompanied by the music from some old gramophone.

As she rounded the corner, she added her own vocal talent to the final lyrics.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the little mechanical filly who danced and sung so in the middle of the room. Despite having a skin of steel and hair of fiber, Sweetie Belle looked so close to her original self. Whoever had designed her face was an artist, as she was able to smile from ear to ear beaming with happiness.

The same face instantly turned into an expression of stunned surprise as their eyes met. Everypony else turned around to see her standing in the doorway. The sound of music ended with a harsh scratch as somepony bumped into the gramophone.

Most of the attendants dropped their heads in a respectful and somewhat nervous bow.
Those who didn’t was Twilight, Sweetie herself, and Rarity - who moved over and tried to hide the little mechanical filly behind her tail.

“Twilight.”

“Celestia.” Twilight nodded. “What took you so long?”

“I wanted to give you some privacy.”

“Have you seen to the criminals?” Twilight asked matter of factly.

“They have been taken care of, and are being transported off this property as we speak”

“Good.“

Celestia detected something morbid in Twilight's voice.

“Yet you don't sound to excited.”

Twilight sighed.

“Its all so sad princess. The horrible things those ponies did to Sweetie. And the horrible things they did to themselves, that made them as mad as they are. In a way I feel sorry for them. They were driven mad by their own accomplishments. And now... all that skill, all those talents, all wasted.

“Not all wasted." Celestia stated. "They did make progress after all. And they did produce the most amazing result. That progress, that accomplishment, have not gone away.” She looked down at Sweetie when she said it.

“However. They have proven that it is highly dangerous field with applications we do not understand. And with the minds behind it gone, we can not let it leak out.”

Celestia spoke out to the entire room. Her voice firm and sure as she made her statement.

“That's why I hereby confiscate everything in the name of the crown. Everything regarding this research is to be transported to the royal institute for cataloging and examination. All those who have been involved in this project are free to continue pursuing development in a more controlled environment. Otherwise you are free to go. But you are to surrender all material and information you have regarding this project.

“Does... Does that include me?”

Celestia turned her eyes back down to the little mechanical Sweetie.

Rarity hugged her closer. The elder Belle's moved in around her. The elder pair hung their heads in pleading submission. They did not want to be separated from their child but at the same time knew they where powerless to stop Celestia.

Rarity on the other hoof stood straight with eyes both dark and fierce.

It was a look Celestia rarely ever saw these days. A look that said she was ready to fight Celestia herself to the very end. A look that dared her to take another step.

Celestia did not take another step.

Instead she lowered her long neck till the was on the same level as Sweetie.

She looked her in the eye, and smiled warmly.

“I said every-thing. Not every-pony.”

With that she turned to talk with the rest of the grownups. Rarity exhaled and let go of Sweetie to join the conversation of what was to be done next. Their parents looked like they just regained the ability to breathe.

“Come, we need to discuss a thing or two about Sweetie”

Sweetie didn’t even notice what was being said between the elders. She just stood there silent as she very slowly processed what had just happened.

“She called me a pony.”

Author's Note

Stay tuned for the epilogue - which will be out before new years eve.

Epilogue: My body - Myself - And my Cybernetic life.

And so, dear readers, we come to the end of Sweeties journey. Even though short. It would leave a lasting impression on many things that would echo for decades to come.

Professor Neurosa Screwbolt was taken into the same intensive care she had sent her own daughter into.
Several charges where pressed against her. But she was judged to unstable to even begin to stand trial.

Other ponies who suffered similar fates included the ranks of: Molten Metalhoof, Shockwave, Marrow, Necro and Prism Prestiege. They were all departed to different mental hospitals, where they were subjected to study and treatment for their unique case of crystallized brain damage. So far no method for reverting the condition has been found. And the only way to remove the crystallized tissue would be lobotomy.

Dr P. Morbious was also sent to a medical institute, though he did not face the same charges as the others - His severe physical and mental condition labeled him in need for drastic care - and he has since then proved a unique case for his caretakers.

Even though he had finally crossed that bridge of his life - Bronco found the life of a researcher waiting for him on the other side. He got a new life at Canterlot institute for magic research, and was the only one from the project who resumed his studies of the artificial crystals.

No one knows what became of the channeling known by the aliases of Madam Macadam and Dr Heartache. She suddenly vanished from the festivities after Sweetie Belles reconstruction. Presumably using her changeling abilities to escape the guards. Nopony noticed she was gone until it was time to leave the factory. Rumors have it she might have gone back to the hive. Presumably to continue her own research.

After her near death experience, Mrs Sedative Sully finally stopped chewing on needles.
She and Brick went back to working as Nurse and Caretaker under Dr Cardiac. The two remained I close contact with Sweetie. As did Sweeties parents, who stayed in Ponyville for the duration of Sweetie's treatment. Her father helped Brick organize a volleyball tournament for all residence and staff members of the mental asylum - That, due to the fire, had to be temporarily relocated to Ponyville infirmary. Mr Belle brought his long forgotten Volleyball skills to the play. And Mrs Belle provided lots of cookies and refreshments for the players.

Sully even reluctantly agreed to form a cheerleader team. And Screwloose became the field mascot. She proved herself an excellent ball fetcher for whenever a ball where thrown of field, through a window, or when one of the inmates mindlessly wandered of.

Dr Cardiac took Screwloose under his wings. And adopted the poor mare.
He wrote in an article:

… “Its normal for the individual to adapt to her surroundings. If someone can not adapt to our norms we label them as odd, different or misplaced.
But sometimes, as I've come to learn, it is we int the surrounding community that needs to adapt and accept when something is different. And to not shun those that are.
I do not know if Screw Loose will ever become a “real mare”. But I believe that if we just show them love and care. Then everything will work out in the end.”

Several dispatch units where sent to clean up White Tail Woods of clay ponies and Steel stallions.
After the forest was deemed safe, work returned to the sawmill. Mr Thrunk's established a new contract with Major Mare. Who's town seems to be in a constant need for repair and rebuilding, and therefore had a constant need for construction material. With the new income, his son Branch was finally able to go to school.

Even though the forest was thoroughly cleaned. There are still rumors of sightings of equine creatures of both mud and metal wandering aimlessly throughout the forest.

The restaurant known as Teddy's Tacos went out of business after, what the locals of Ravenloft refer to as “The incident”. Nopony thought to do anything with the old building And children were taught not to go near it. As such the old restaurant was left to rot.
Its former owner - 'Taco Teddy' - is now serving time behind bars for various charges - most of them actually being severe violations of workplace health and ethnics. And a variety of financial frauds.

The sole employee of Teddy's, the purple stallion, received a small gift of comfort for his troubles from the crown. (Which was quite larger than his last salary check - which he would never get - would have been.) With it, the former janitor/guard pony was able to purchase the bracelet he intended for his very special somepony. And was able to propose to her on Hearts Warming Eve.

He swore that he would never work another night shift at any other fast food restaurant again.

As for the dolls bearing the resemblance of Equestrians 6 heroes - Official reports say they were all confiscated by the royal science department. Thought their current whereabouts are … Unknown.

On an unrelated note: The Equestrian fire department declared that the biggest fire hazard this Hearts Warming Eve was not forgotten candles. But flammable cooking oil and fryer batter.

As for Sweetie Belle: The remainder of her tail could be recovered from the garbage wagon. And a new skin could be regrown from the genetic sample. Though complete reconstruction would take several weeks.

During those weeks - Sweetie tried to get back to something resembling a normal life.

Though normality was gonna have to wait.

As the weeks of winter past. Sweetie barely left the house. And Rarity never left her side. In the first weeks she even slept in the same bed out of fear of letting her sister out of sight.

It would take a lot of therapy to get life back into something resembling order. Dr Cardiac often came to visit. And he often had Screw loose with him. The Mad Mare was always happy to see Sweetie. And she eased the tension in all therapeutic sessions. It is after all said that a dog is a pony’s best friend.

Cardiac aided Sweetie in meditation like sessions were she would go into herself and slowly reprogram all the features she had lost. Everything from bowel movement to hunger, to exhaustion, tiredness and finally sleeping.
Sweetie came to terms whit herself whit surprisingly little trouble given the ordeal she went threw. To her - It was all just a matter of getting used to her new self.

Though the question remained. Even though she was able to start accepting who and what she was – would others?

In time for winter wrap up Sweetie started leaving the house. First only occasionally. Then with increasing frequency. To sort of ease the population into her existence.

Naturally everypony in Ponyville had some kind of reaction.

Rainbow thought it was kind of Awesome.

Applejack was taken aback but could not deny the truth before her.

Fluttershy - the ever timid caretaker. Was shocked by the news. But her kind nature made her an excellent listener and a good shoulder to cry on whenever Sweetie or Rarity needed to cry about the horrifying experience.

Pinkie Pie claimed to have always known.
When asked how she possible could have she simply smiled, stating that it was obvious.
No one ever questioned.

She threw the biggest party in the Carousel Boutique, in celebration of everything from cutie mark acquisition to a second symbolic birthday. Even though none but a chosen few where allowed to attend this party, Sweetie received gift from all over town.

Scootaloo tried to make Sweetie take all her toys (of which there weren't many). But sweetie insisted that she did not want her toys but her friendship. Still Scoot was beating herself bad for what she had said and done and were not ready to accept Sweeties forgiveness.

Applebloom was grounded for a month of heavy chores for the making of homemade explosives that severely injured her friend. As a result the trio barely spoke to each other during the whole winter. Still, the two were the only foals allowed to occasionally visit the Boutique.

Though no other foals where allowed to see Sweetie - she received letters from all her classmates. (She suspected Cheerilee would have something to do with making the class wright to her.) She also got many letters from Branch. And the two of them became pen-pals.

And the population... They got use to it pretty quick all things considered. Considering their town lay at the border of one of the most dangerous forests in the kingdom, and was under frequent attack and or visit from all sorts of things. Including a chaos lord who has moved in with the local animal caretaker. It was even home to an all powerful sorceress- who had a dragon as an assistant.

Said sorceress had also taken steps into getting the rumors over and done with before sweetie was seen in public again. And made sure the media stayed out of her life. Some folks still asked where the real sweetie had gone of to. Or other questions about her true nature. But it all settled down in time.

People could after all get used to even the craziest of things. Especially in this town.

As spring started to show its first signs The time had eventually come for sweetie to leave the comfort zone of the Boutique and reunite with the world.

The time came for her to go back to school.

***

“But mom! Why do I have to go to school? Can't Twilight just transfer some knowledge into a crystal and let me download it?” Sweetie protested loudly. “School is boring!”

“Experience is just as important as knowledge.” Said Twilight, and stroked her mane. Doing so still sent a satisfying tingling of static electricity down Sweeties cranial plate. And turned her defiant pout into a satisfactory slime.

Twilight leaned in and whispered.

“Besides. I think we both know you are just staling.”

It was true. Sweetie was nervous about going back to school. To face all those faces again. During her long time in isolation she had barely spoken to anypony outside the boutique. And she had never been unsupervised.

That was about to change.

Her mother put her saddlebags on her back. Truth was she to had been staling as well, as she had prepared her saddlebags a hundred times and tucked her daughter up worse than the first time she started school. Insisting that she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Telling them she was fine either way was all Sweetie could do to make them not put ribbons in her hair or otherwise dress her up like a … well... a doll.

Both mother and father hugged her closely.

“You have a lovely day in school now dear” They said.

Sweetie sighed and walked to the door.

“Wait!”

This time it was Rarity who was staling. She pulled on a smile but looked like she wanted nothing more than to hide sweetie away from the evil world out there.

“Does it really have to be today? Cant we wait?” She pleaded. "Sweetie. You don't have to go out just yet. In just a few days your new skin will be ready.”

“It wont be any easier then. Doctor Cardiac said the sooner the better.”

“But do you really have to to out so … so … exposed? Can't you at least put on a dress?”

Sweetie shook her head.

”No sister. I think I need to do this. Besides... We promised there would be no more lies. I can't go through my life like I'm hiding my true self after all. And besides... everyone already knows.”

A tear of pride rolled down her mothers cheek. Both she and father nodded in support of their daughters decision.

Rarity swallowed reluctantly, but also gave a nod. This was an important step for both sisters.

Sweetie took a deep breath and stepped out the door. It was funny that she didn't need to breathe any more. But going through the notions still helped to ease her mind.

Outside the sun shone brightly on her face and she felt the warm spring breeze fondle over her alloys. It still felt a bit exposed to not have any fur bend with the wind. Almost eminently she regretted not following Rarity's advise to wait for her skin. But she forced herself to continue without trying to hide herself.

“Just walk straight with your head held high.” She told herself.

There would be no point in sulking round the corners. This was who she was. If anyone had anything to say about that they could just step up and try. But no one did. No one would dare. Not with her escort.

She turned around and waving goodbye to her mom and dad. Even though she knew they would not be coming with her she got nervous as they shut the door.

Then Twilight said her goodbyes and good lucks - and Teleported away, back to her library. Sweetie almost begged her to stay. But in a flash half of her escort was gone. What if someone tried now? What if something happened?

But nothing did.

No angry mob descended on her. No sycophants with knives where hiding in the shadows. Nor did any crazy scientists try to abduct her. No one tried to harm, harass or abduct her.

“Sweetie. We can go back inside if you don't feel up for it.” Said Rarity.

“No. I'm fine.” She was suppose to be able to walk this road to school alone. She had done it a thousand times before. She wiped a hoof over her forehead. Then realized no sweat could form upon it. With another deep breath she continued forward.

The town was full of ponies. Some looked at her. Some called on others to look. Some gave her looks as they passed by, Some played indifferent and some called out to her.

Sweetie reminded herself to not think bad of them. They where just curious since they had never seen anything like her. In time they would perhaps become so used to her that they payed her not mind.

That day could not come to soon. Sweetie herself wondered if she would ever get used to ponies looking at her.

But then she diverted her attention away from the onlookers to the rest of the town. To all that had not noticed her. To the many, many ponies out in the early spring sun. Grownups on their way to their jobs. Postalmares and deliverystalions already at their jobs. Foals playing games and their elder siblings on their way to school. Just like her.

They all carried on with their lives just as they always had.

They did not gather in a crowd around her. They were not stalking her. They were not out to get her.

And she was not graded by any escort. Just her sister walking her to school this beautiful morning.

There was not a cloud in the sky. The sun cast its warm rays and made the town shimmer in colors.
The trees where blooming with sprouts and birds where singing from newly made nests. The Vendors where setting up booths in the marketplace and ponies where already browsing and bartering.
The mingling at the outdoor dining's. The smell of new baked bread, fresh picked flowers and grilled hayburgers. Sweetie stopped and took it all in. The sight and the smell and the sounds all filled her heart.

It felt like she had just woken up from a long nightmare. And was finally able to see the world again.

“Sweetie? Is something wrong. Do you want to go back?” asked Rarity.

“No sister. I don't want to go back. I just realized something.”

She had changed. But ponyville had not. The town and is inhabitants remained a trustworthy source of stability and familiarity. Like a sturdy foundation for her to put her hooves on.

With new found vigor she headed for school. Keeping her head high suddenly did not feel so hard anymore.

***

Sweetie was the last pony to enter school.

She waited till every pony else had taken their seats while she herself remained standing outside the classroom door.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

Facing the town full of familiar yet unknown faces had been easy. This was another matter. This was a classroom full of children her age. A class full of faces that she knew. A class full of fillies and colts that knew her - or had thought that they knew her.
She feared that looking into their eyes would be like looking into Scootaloo's.

They had talked with Cheerilee. She was well briefed on the situation. And she was right now briefing the class for Sweeties big return. She wised to make no big deal out of it, but there was no beating around that bush. Sweetie could not just take her seat and act as it everything was like before. Because it was not. Every foal in that classroom would have questions. It was just as well to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

It would be a re-introduction. Like stepping through that door for the very first time as the newest foal in school and face a classroom full of strangers. And then having to stand in front of the blackboard and introduce yourself, hoping they would accept you.

She had been at a disadvantage coming to this school when her parents left her to live here with big sister. Since most of the kids already knew each other and had their established groups of friends. She had been nervous back then. But also exited. To meet new kids to play with. This time was far worse. What if they did not want her back? What if they would shun her?

-::Nervosity levels rising::-

Her inner pistons started vibrating, simulating shivers. She willfully turned that function of in order to focus. She had practiced what to say. What questions might be asked. Twilight had provided flashcards and she was now going over them again and again.

She heard Cheerilee call her name. There was no backing down now. She could not run away from this. Not again.

Luckily she had Rarity behind her, and she supported her little sister with all her heart. Sweetie put the cards back in her saddlebag. Took another deep breath and opened the door.

The whole classroom was deadly silent. Everyone was looking at her with big, round eyes. In the midst of surprised, nervous and sometimes shocked faces she found the eyes of Scootaloo and Applebloom, who both gave her tiny smiles. The rest of class examined her from top to bottom. Their ears where peaked, listening for sounds of grinding gears and kicking joints that her well oiled body just did not produce. The only sound that was heard was her steps as she walked the long way to the front of the blackboard.

As she stood in front of the class all of her practiced lines were suddenly gone from her mind. It was peculiar that her mind could forget. She probably could recall every word of her practiced speech from a memory file. Or simply replay a recorded message through her voicebox. But she chose not to.

“H...Hello. My mane is Sweetie bell. I’m not a pony. But i look like one...” she stammered.

“I’m a...”

She turned to the blackboard. Where Rarity helped her wright down the word Twilight had come up with. One word that defined her existence as much as “Pony” should do for any pony. Maybe even more:

Cybernetic Entity.

A yellow pegasus filly in first row reached up a hoof.

“Yes Goldwing?” said Cheerilee

“Whats an entity? Also what is a Sybernetrix?”

“Cybernetic, my dear” Said Rarity. “As for what it means....”

She looked at Sweetie.

“Its difficult to explain...”

Cheerilee cut in.

“It sort of means she is of a different species. A different kind of equine creature. Similar yet different to a pony. Like a Zebra, or a Griffin. And she deserves to be treated with no less respect than any of you.”

”And she is our friend!"

Scootaloo and Applebloom jumped of their chairs and walked up to stand beside Sweetie.

”And boy - do we have a story to tell you...”

And so the lecture continued. A lecture rehearsed before as they where trying to explain what Sweetie Belle was, this time an abridge version for foals.

No - she was not a robot with some pony else's soul bonded to her.
No - She was not just programmed to behave like a filly.
No - she was not wearing a nightmare night costume.

The closest they came was that she was a living machine-creature-pony, with her own mind and soul.

***

It took the entire lesson to answer questions. (Sweetie insisted on doing most of the talking herself.) By the time the bell rang out Sweetie knew her throat would have been dry if she allowed it to simulate that feeling.

In a way it was great to have this much control over yourself and all your body functions.

Cheerilee told her she was very brave to face the class like that. She then needed to have a word with Rarity, and told her to run along and play.

This was as much a necessity for Rarity as for Sweetie. She needed to be able to connect with the other kids again. And Rarity needed to learn to let go of her little sister. She was not going to disappear just because she was not standing over her shoulder all the time. (And so she told her.)

“And if anypony... If anyone or anything bothers you, promise tell me immediately.”

Out on the schoolyard, many foals called out to her, waved and asked if she wanted to play with them.

Sweetie had to turn them all down. There was only two fillies she wanted to be with now.

She found them standing alone a little bit of the playground.

An heavy silence hung over the group.

“So... I was wondering... I don't know if I can continue…?”

“I'M SORRY!” shouted Scootaloo (for what had to be the hundredth time.) “I should never have forced you to play with those stupid explosives! If I hadn't then you would never have been hurt! And then a lot of things would never have happened. Its all my fault that they did!”

“Its not your fault Scoot” Said Sweetie. “We where all exited to test making bombs.”

“If anything its my fault.” Said Applebloom “I was the one who made the gunpowder so bad.”

“Its my fault because I was the one that came up with that stupid idea!” Scootaloo cried.

“I would have found out soon anyway. My parents where on their way to tell me...”

“But then you would have at least been with them! And then you would never have run away.” Its my fault that you ran away! Because of all the horrible things I said! I should never have called you a bot!”

“But you were right. The mad scientist that made me was going to make hundreds of Filly-Bots, and sell them as orphans. And then you never would have gotten a family.”

“I don't deserve a family! I don't want any family. I already had the best friends ever and I treated you so bad.” Tears started to fall from her eyes. “I understand if you never ever want to forgive me and never ever see me again.”

Scoot looked down into the dirt.

“Me to” Said Applebloom “We understand if you don't want to be our friend any more.”

”Of course i want to be your friend!” Sweetie Belle shouted.

Her two friends looked at each other.

“Then why where you saying that you don't know if we can continue to be together?”

”That's not what i meant! I meant I don't know if I can continue as a Crusader now that I have this!?

She turned sideways and pointed at the mark that now endowed her shiny metal ass. The cog-and-heart shone of new polished chrome. Could the Cmc survive this? The groups purpose had always been to find their marks. And she was worried she would have to quit now that she had found hers.

The two stood the dumbfounded. As if sweeties true intentions still eluded their minds

”I don't know. said Scoot. “I mean I understand if you want to quit... ”

”O COME ON! No, I don't want to quit! That's why I'm asking if I can i still be with you!”

”What? ... I mean of course you can. ... But i thought?...”

”I mean: can I still be a Crusader even though I have a mark?"

“Well... We did after all say that we where gonna continue to crusade till we all have our cutie marks” said Applebloom. “And now that you have your mark. Maybe you can tell us what you did to get it.”

Sweetie pondered. She had a pretty god idea of when she had gotten her mark. But what she did...?

“Well... I think all I did was accepting who I really am. Dr Craniac once told me that he thinks everyone knows who they really are deep down.”

Scootaloo stuck out her tongue.

“Just be yourself.” She said in disgust “That's what all grownups say.”

“Yea... But I never really understood it until now.”

Sweetie lost herself in the thought for a moment. Applebloom tapped her chin. Scoot just leaned her head.

“You sound like one of those wise horses from some spiritual journey.”

“That's it! Shouted Applebloom “Maybe We need a spiritual journey of self discovery. A journey that really brings out all that we have.”

Without thinking any further about it, like they never did, They all threw their heads back and Shouted.

“QUTIE MARK CRUSADERS SPIRITUAL JOURNEYERS YAAAAAAY!”

After the proclamation they shared a laugh together. For the first time today sweetie felt the tension leave the air. This had to mean she was still a crusader after all. However. After the laugh the tension returned. There was a moment of silence before Applebloom just had to ask something.

“Sooooo... what's it like to be a bot?”

“Applebloom!” Roared Scootaloo.

“Please Girls.” Said sweetie, waving her hoof disarmingly “We need to break this ice and acknowledge the elephant in the room.”
“What elephant? What ice? In what room?” Applebloom looked around, totally lost “Is there an elephant ice skating indoors somewhere?”

Sweetie deadpanned.

“Never mind. Just something my shrink said”

“He sounds like a bad shrink if he makes you say more crazy things than before.”

“Anyway. You can call me Sweetie Bot if you feel like it.”

“Absolutely not if you don't want it!”

Sweetie pondered a little.

“ It has a nice ring to it. Sweetie - Belle - Bot. Or Sweetie - Bot - Bell. Or Cyber - Sweetie. That sounds pretty cool.”

”Why not Bot-butt? Or Butt-bot?” Came a pair of giggling voices behind them. ”Or Bot-Butt-Belle”.

“O no. Where did they come from?” sighed Scootaloo.

They turned around to see the bullies Diamond tiara and silver spoon walking towards them.

“So you are of a different species. I should have known. You where far to dumb to be a pony.”

“So miss Cyber-filly. When is the space ship coming to beam you up and take you back to the planet of the butt-botts?”

Scootaloo looked like she was gonna boil the tears away from her cheeks.

“She has been through enough!” she growled. But it was drowned out by a giggle that quickly rose to an almost hysterical laughter.

A laugh that did not come from the troublesome duo.

Sweetie was laughing. This was what she had been afraid of. This was why she had run away from. Pathetic school-bully taunting. If this was the worst she had to endure by revealing her secret ,then she wished her sister had told her sooner. It was laughable. She threw her head back and laughed into the sky. And since she did not need to pause for breath anymore she could keep on laughing forever.

Mid laugh she decided she was gonna have some fun. Still laughing she tweaked the settings of her voicebox, so her laugh became more and more robotic in nature.

She looked back down on her tormentors, who both started to look nervous.

"Caution, less you break my emotional processor."

The bullies looked at each other nervously. But still forced a smile.

“Sounds like your voice already broke”

“Or what. Do you break when we say mean things about you?”

Sweetie smiled. She had basic set up herself for that one. Unfortunately for them, they took the bait.

”I'll bet that mark is only painted or branded. Everypony know a robot can not get a cutie mark.”

”Are you gonna fall apart now? Are you gonna cry? I bet its just thick sticky oil”

-::Deactivating facial features::-

Sweeties face became deprived of all emotions. Her eyelids stopped blinking and her eyes got a blank, deadpanned stare. The only thing that kept moving was her mouth. Good thing she could deactivate the emotional responses in her face – otherwise she would not have been able to stop he self from smiling wide. For internally - she was laughing.

“Oh no. Heart-Drive broken.”

”Conscience - Deactivated.”

She started walking menacingly towards them. Speaking in her robotic voice. Continuously listing things.

“Personality - Deactivated.”

“Self awareness protocols - Disengaged.”

“Run extermination program – Destroyallbullies.exe”

One of her eyes turned red as she turned on her scanner. Crosshairs appeared in her vision as she locked on to the two now sweating bullies.

“Acquiring targets.”

“Arming weapons.”

Her horn started to spark as she channeled some electricity to it and let it build.

”Weapons armed.”

”Targets acquired.”

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon turned tails and ran down hill away from the crazy murdermachine.
But Sweetie was not done playing just yet.

”Firing!”

She discharged a pair of small bolts of electricity from the tip of her horn. The sparks went right up the rectum of the runaway rascals. They yelped and jumped, grabbed their behind's and fell down on the same.

-::Re-Activate facial features::-

Sweetie turned back to her friends and said in her normal voice.

“Don't worry. I did not really deactivate my conscience and awareness. I was only kidding!”

A big smile spread across her lips. She half expected Scootaloo to tackle her to the ground and call her Murderbot again. Instead her friend remained standing stunned. With their mouths hanging open and eyes full of shock.

For a second, fear crept into her Heart-Drive.

-::"Oh no! Please don't tell me I've scared them away from me.”::-

Then, they started laughing. And then she joined in. And they all fell to the ground laughing.
And how could she not laugh? Her friends had accepted her back. And she could finally start to live as a normal little filly again.
She might not be a normal filly. But that did not mean she could not have a normal life.

Eventually the laughter died down as the three laid panting on their backs, looking up into the blue sky.

Suddenly, Rarity was standing over them, having apparently finished her conversation with Cheerilee.

“Has anypony bothered you Sweetie?”

Sweetie looked up onto her sister. Wavering between her promise to tell the truth and not wanting to see Rarity in prison for double homicide.

“No sister, I'm fine.”

“What are you girls talking about?”

“Were just thinking about going on a spiritual journey to find our Cutie marks like Sweetie did. And she's gonna show us how” said Applebloom.

Rarity looked like she just been struck by lightning.

”Oh no my little dear! You have had quite enough of a journey! So that it lasts for all of us in fact!” She said in a firm tone. Then she leaned down and hugged Sweetie, her eyes suddenly wet. “And i couldn’t stand to lose you like that again. Promise me you will never run of like that again!”

Why would she ever run away? She had found her paradise. But in order to settle her sister - she made the Pinkie Pie Promise.

“Cross my, heart hope to fly stick a cupcake in my eye.”

That promise had to be valid even for robots tight?

Then she realized she had stuck her hoof right into her optical lens without closing her eyelid. The others looked at her with a mix of fascination and disgust as she tapped her open eye a few more times.

“You know. I really could stick a cupcake in my eye.” She laughed.

And once again the group was consumed by laughter.

Who had ever said that being a cyberpony could not be funny?

***

Later that evening Sweetie went to Twilight's place.
Part of the treatment was that she at least once a week reported her progress on, as twilight liked to call it: “the magic of self discovery”.
Sweetie walked in on twilight as she was trying to dictate her letter. Spike was doing the writing as she pranced around and talked out loud.

”Dear princess Celestia.
- In the passing weeks i have been faced with a single question. “What is life?” I finally come to the sound conclusion.”

Sweetie stopped short of announcing her presence and just listened. Though it was wrong to eavesdrop she she held a breath (that she did not have) over what Twilight was about to say. It was no secret that Twilight reported to the princess about Sweeties progress. Or her growing fascination for the new fields of arcane technology and cybernetic study. As such, Sweetie was nervous about what she might say about her.

“...The conclusion is that I cannot answer that. I can not easily define what life is. Some might seek an easy Answer to those questions, and dismiss anything that don’t fit with their view. But I have learned that you should always be open to expand your horizons.”
Twilight stopped and pondered if she could improve her wording somewhat. “Maybe I should ad: “I once again find myself having to accept that there are some things I can not, and maybe will not, Understand.”

She turned around and noticed Sweetie standing half hidden behind the door-frame.

“Oh! Hi Sweetie. I'm so glad to her that your first day in school this year went without any trouble. Does this mean you have learned something new?"

If she was in some way mad about Sweetie eavesdropping, she did not show it. In fact she seemed glad that Sweetie had heard that.

Sweetie stepped into the Library and cleared her throat. (A reflexive behavior - since she no longer had any moisture in her mouth.)

“Well... Its difficult to explain. I want everypony to treat me the same as anypony. After all its not fun if everypony goes around reminding me that I'm different. That I'm a Bot… I mean cybernetic entity. But at the same time it can be a lot of fun to be different. To be a Bot. So much so that it feels good. Its easier to be different when you feel good about it. I guess what I mean is that I want everypony to get used to me and stop looking at me funny. And at the same time I have to get use to myself.”

She smiled.

“But... It feels like we are all getting there. To getting used to all this I mean.”

Out of the corner of her optical lenses she noticed that Spike was already writing down all she had said.

With renewed vigor she continued.

“Sometimes you might discover something new about yourself, or you might undergo a transformation. And it makes you feel really strange and weird because you are not used to it. Because you are not used to it. And others will start looking at you like they don't know you. And start acting strange around you. Because you are weird and strange now. Because they are not used to it. And you might not want to be around them because they constantly remind you of that. But I think the best cure is to stay together no matter how strange it feels until you all eventually get used to it. Because then it will not feel strange anymore. Then it will be the new normal.”

She giggled.

“So I guess that means I'm a perfectly normal little bot.”

Sweetie sighed pleased with herself as spike put the final dot onto the paper.

“Was there something else?” Twilight asked,her expression changing to a slight concern as Sweetie did not move from her spot.

“Well … “ She started “Its just one thing that I have still to get an answer to.”

“Really? What is it then? Ask away and I shall do what I can to help you.” Twilight proudly stated.

“How are little foals made? I mean … I know how I was made. But what about everypony else? How are they made?”

Twilight pupils shrunk into her eyes.

“Well ... ” She said, a nervous grin spreading across her lips. “When a mare and a stallion loves each other very much...”

The End.

Author's Note

"The more bitter the journey - The sweeter the end."

This was the concept I wanted to test when I first started writing this story.
Basically - I wanted to test if a good ending would feel all the more sweet if the journey towards it was dark and bitter. That's why I did make It as dark and bitter as I dared.

It is after all the struggle that makes the reward at the end feel just that more well deserved.

A big thank you goes out to all of you that has managed to stomach through this wretched ride. Whose continued comments and support have kept me going when I've been feeling down and burdened.

And a big thank you goes out to the creators of 'Friendship is witchcraft' for bringing the concept of Sweetie Bot into my life.

Finally a big thank you have to go out to 'PrinceWhatever' for the song 'Destabilize' that finally inspired me to write this story: https://youtu.be/17H9eP_IMTc?list=UUrZ4hH-LfQES7GHvXlZot3w.

With that I wish you all a Merry Christmas - and a Happy New Year.

Chapter 1. Mark of Errors

Sweetie Bot - A Heart's Warming Tale

By Grimweird

(my own, old cover art)

Chapter 1
Mark of Errors

Smoke was rising from the ruined village. Between the ruined buildings and burning debris pony corpses and smoldering craters littered what was left of the streets.

From the flames a robot emerged. Not bigger than a foal. Its body hummed and hissed when the gears inside it twisted and shifted as it made its way forward with a jerking stiffens in its legwork. Its metallic hooves giving of a distinct metallic clang with every step.

Its glowing red eyes swept the perimeter in search of more organic life to exterminate.
When it found no more it calculated the death tool of the last hunt. The casualty of organic blood bags numbered in the hundreds.

The robot calculated that this would be a good harvest.

Something moved out in the corner of its vision.
Out into the street stepped a big stallion with a physique that would have made Bulk snowflake Biceps proud. His dark red coat was dirty and covered with scars yet his black mane somehow remained in perfect shape. He carried a big belt over his shoulder filled with metal cylinders that shimmered almost ad bright as his big black sunglasses.

When he spoke it was with a growling voice that could have scared of timber-wolves.

“I’ve should have known the Bloodbots would use foals-bots to get close to us. But now that you’ve lost your skin I can see you for what you really are.

The foal-bot made a quick scan of the organic life form. Identifying him as Rampony Mactails. Defender of Ponykind. Champion of justice. Bane of all Bloodbots.

Rampony continued his taunt:

"Come on you mechanical abomination! Show me what you’re really made of!”

The mechanical abomination gave up a metallic roar that echoed across the theater. Making three little fillies nearly jump out of their seats and hide under them.

Rampony tossed two of the Pipebombs from his belt up in the air and, in an move that would have made Applejack proud, turned and bucked them as they came down. Applebloom sheered as both Pipe bombs hit the Bloodbot square in the face and exploded, blowing it to pieces.

More Bloodbots appeared from the fires. And Rampony started dispatching them through a creative use of pipe bombs, debris and martial hoof-to-hoof combat that made Scootaloo cheer even louder.

Sweetie had to hush them both down for the sake of everyone else in the theater.
They had paid their last bits to see this movie and she did not want to get thrown out. Especially not considering how hard they had to work for them.

They had spent the week trying to get their cutie marks as door to door sales ponies. In the end it had only gotten them the bits to pay for this weekend movie. (So at least something had come out of it.) So she did not want their hard earned bits to go to waste by getting thrown out.

In the movie an army of robots had mysteriously appeared and started harvesting ponies whose blood they where using to fuel their death machines. Replacing those they had taken with Bloodbots dressed up in the organic skin of the victim.

All the while building more and more death-bots in their secret lairs. When they had built a large enough army they launched an assault on the world.

Only Rampony Mactails could stop them.

And by the looks of things he was doing a fine job at doing so.

After all the bloodbots had been destroyed, Rampony corrected his sunglasses and looked out over the ruined village.

“Now... where is that secret base?” he said in a calm yet threatening growling voice.

No sooner had he finished speaking before the ground started shaking and a giant hole erupted in the middle of the village. Sending buildings and burning debris flying in all directions.

A giant Bloodboot, taller than a multi-storey building emerged from the hole.

It gave an ear-piercing screech that made Sweetie's ears hurt so bad she had to cover them with her hooves. The giant Bloodbot started stomping through the ruins in an attempt to flatten Rampony. But he skillfully maneuvered through the debris and dodged between its legs.
He ended up behind the giant robot, where his helper Shorty had prepared a cart full of explosives.

Rampony fastened the harness and started running back towards the metallic monster, who still had its back towards him. Using a a tilted building as a ramp he jumped an impossible distance onto the robots back with the cart.

He then released the harness and jumped of the giants back as the cart slammed full speed into the neck and exploded. Blowing the metallic monsters head clean off.

Rampony gave out a small praise to Smarty the scientists for his extra explosive recipe.

He then entered the dark secret base and the whole movie suddenly became horror themed. With the theater seemingly going even darker as the movie screen turned almost pitch black as Rampony marched through unlit corridors, stalked by glowing red eyes that apparently only the audience could see lurking in the shadows behind him.

Scootaloo tried to show how tough she was by playing it cool. Pretending to be laid back even when at the edge of her seat. Utterly failing since her wings where flapping so hard in the tense scenes that Sweetie Belle and Applebloom had to lean on her to hold her down in her seat.

At least that was Appleblooms explanation for the group-hug when the skeletal Bloodbot jumped out of the shadows and started blasting Rampony with its laser eyes.

Sweetie on the other hoof made no attempts to hide that she was so scared she was shaking. Her heart was banging so hard in her chest she thought it would drown out the movies music with its drum-solo when Rampony set the charges at the center of the base and lit the fuse with the end of his cigar. And she could feel her eyes go wet at the heart-wrenching finally when Rampony was confronted by two identical mares, both claiming to be his wife, and telling him to shoot the other.

In the end, Rampony managed to pick the right one.

Sweetie shed a tear in silence at the heart warming reunion. Only the presence of her friends kept her from weeping openly when Rampony carried his wife out of the base just as the fuse burned out.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked

“Your love for me baby." he answered "Its to strong to be replicated by any soulless machine.”

Then they had a long passionate kiss as the Bloodbot base exploded in a big fireball behind them.

***

The trio exited the theater into the chilly autumn wind.

Sweetie was glad she had brought her purple and pink striped scarf. Her sister had made it for her and said it matched her hair really well. Sweetie was just glad it protected against the cold.

Applebloom had a red scarf that matched her ribbon and a pair of ear muffs. Scootaloo had her “cool” black jacket with holes for her wings. Sweetie belle always wondered how Pegasi did not freeze their wings of.

The winds had grown extra chilly as of late. And a lot of ponies were wearing their winter clothes. Which in itself wasn't unusual given that it was almost Hearths Warming Eve.

The running of the leaves had been what seemed like ages ago. The trees were all bare of leaves – their naked branches reaching for the cold blue sky. Every little critter had gone into hibernation and the birds had all been guided far out south.

But despite being so close to Hearths Warming Eve, next to no snow had fallen.
It was said that the weather committee still had one last storm planned before the snow. As such there was also a distinct lack of outdoor decorations around town, as nopony wanted to risk them being blown away.

Somepony who was (metaphorically) blown away was Scootaloo. She took a big breath and threw her hooves up in the air.

“That. Was. AWESOME!” she shouted. Drawing looks from the other ponies exiting the theater. Not all shared her enthusiasm.

Some where criticizing over how stupid that move had been. A mother with her distressed colt where complaining over how dark and violent that movie had been and some goth-looking Pegasus with a black mane covering her eyes where muttering about how the Unicorns and Pegasi had been downplayed.

Truth, only earth ponies had been given prominent roles. (Or perhaps that was just Rampony.) Any one else who had tried to stop the Bloodbots had failing miserably and died in spectacularly gory ways that made Sweetie Belles stomach turn just thinking about it.

Scootaloo was deaf to criticism She rambled on and on about all the awesome things she has seen.

“Did you see when he bucked that Bloodbot into the elevator shaft? Or when he used the elevator to crush it? Or when the building the elevator was in exploded?”

“Yes we saw it.” said Applebloom. “We where there remember?”

Scootaloo didn't hear her sarcasm as she continued.

“And when he was all like “The machines shall never replace us!”

She threw a pose in front of a big movie poster on the theater wall, proclaiming that Rampony Mactails would return this spring staring in: Bloodbots 2 – The sequel.

Scooltaloo was was already ecstatic. She turned back to the others with a fire in her eyes.

“You know what girls? Why don't we try to make our own movie? Maybe we could earn our marks in film-making.”

“Haven't we already tried that?” said Applebloom.

“Well there was that time we borrowed a camera to film our stage play.” Sweetie answered. That had been an attempt to down town birds with one stone.

Scootaloo blew a raspberry.

“Stage plays are boring. I'm talking about a movie as awesome as this” She gestured over the theater. “With action! And explosions! And stunts!”

“And overacting.” Applebloom whispered in Sweeties ear.

“In fact. Why don't we try to make our own stunts?”

Scootaloo pulled her scooter out from the corner of the theater.

“We could be like just like Rampony. In fact we could be even better!”

She fluttered her wings. Rampony didn't have these, said the look in her eyes.

“Have we ever tried to be stuntmares before?”

Sweetie tapped her chin in thought.

“Well. We have already tried and failed to discover their inborn talents of Crocheters, Jugglers, Accountants, Architects, Archivists, Secretary, Silversmiths, Sailors, Comickers, Ninjas, Pirates, Tattoo artists, Lion tamers, Hair dressers...”

Scootaloo interrupted her.

“What are you? An encyclopedia?”

Sweetie put her hoof over her mouth to cover her smirk.
Truth was she did have a good memory. She seemed to remember everything they ever did and often reminded the others so they didn’t try the same thing twice. For this she had been appointed the official secretary and archivist of the Cmc.

Sadly, memory didn’t seem to be her talent as no mark had appeared on her flank. What would that kind of mark even look like? A brain? A thought-cloud?

Her thoughts where broken by that Scootaloo started to do circles around them, awaiting an answer.

“No we haven’t.”

Scootaloo came to a stop in front of them. But her wings didn't stop fluttering. Her enthusiasm was running high after the movie experience and she was pumped up to try out all the stunts she had witnessed. You could almost see her playing out the events in her mind.

“Well be like Rampony and his friends. Smarty and Shorty.” she proclaimed.

“Yea. Rampony got all the credit but he wouldn't have stood a chance if he didn't have some friend to back him up.” Said Applebloom.

Scootaloo smiled went wider that the others where in on the game. She pointed to each of them giving out their roles.

“I'll be Rampony. Applebloom can be smarty and you Sweetie can be shorty.“

Sweetie erupted.

“Hey. Why do I have to play the short one?”

“Because, lets face it, you are the shortest one of us.”

Sweetie frowned. But she could not argue with that logic. She really was the shorter one, if only just by an inch. Which they had discovered when they had tried to get their marks in measurement. (That had been a day of running around with measuring tape and cheeking the the height, size and length of everything)

Though it was barely visible, the difference was there. Since reaching filly-hood she had barely grown at all. If at all. She feared Scoot and Applebloom where starting to outgrow her.

But she didn't have time to get lost in thought as Scootaloo grabbed her and Applebloom and pulled them into the cart behind her scooter and drove of down the street.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER STUNTMARES YAAAAAAAY!”

Scootaloo was grinning with excitement as she sped up.

“This is gonna be best idea ever!”

***

“Okay... Maybe not the best idea ever.” Said Scoot, as she pulled herself up from the mud.

She had attempted to jump of a ramp (consisting of some planks some pony had left out by the construction site) and over the plank that normally separated the site from passersby. But that plank had successfully stopped the crusaders dead in their tracks. While her scooter would have cleared the jump the wagon had gotten one of it wheels caught on the fence, and they had all ended up plummeting over the plank and into the muddy ground below it.

Scootaloo was keen on trying again, but the others figured that slamming through one plank was enough for one day.

Sweetie was pondering just how much they when true in a single day. It was testament to pony durability that none of them had ended up in a hospital yet.

“Maybe we should get our marks in survivalists?” She said.

“No. If that was out talent, it would already have appeared by now.” Said Applebloom “Good thing there ain't no such thing as a mark for stupidity. Or we would have gotten it by now.”

Sweetie wondered what mark like that would even look like? A question mark? A pony head with some googly eyes?

Scootaloo took offense to Applebloom's comment.

“Hey! Don't you call my ideas stupid! We just need to practice that's all.”

“Not today. I've had enough scrapes and burns for today.“

“And my sister is gonna kill me if I come home all covered in bruises.” Said Sweetie.

Scootaloo pondered a moment. “Ok. Lets move on to stage two. Explosions!”

Sweetie and Applebloom looked at each other.

“What else are we gonna do if the Bloodbots attack. We can't just run. We need to fight back. We need to build some anti robot bombs like those pipe bombs Rampony was using!”

“I'm not sure our parents would approve us playing with explosives.”

“Then its a good thing we don't got any parents.”

Applebloom frowned. Scootaloo had just steeped on a sore hoof.
Of the three, Sweetie was the only one with parents, but even they where absent. Traveling somewhere far far away. So neither of them could actually get their parents permission for anything. Rather they had caretakers. In Sweeties and Appleblooms case it was their elder sisters. In Scootaloos case it was the old caretaker at the orphan-house. And apparently caretakers did not have the same authority that a real parent would. (some had called this the cause for the Cmc's uproars.)

“You do know that the Bloodbots ain't real. Right?” Applebloom said. Breaking their imagination somewhat.

Scootaloo groaned. Clearly not wanting to loose her momentum.

“Awww, Come on! Even if the Bloodbots aren’t real its not like we have tried to get our marks in firework making. Right?”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. No they hadn’t.

***

It took the better part of the afternoon to make their Bloodbot killing firecrackers.

They didn't find any shiny tubes to use as the shell. But Scootaloo raided the local recycling station for toilet paper rolls. Sweetie brought a good thick thread and cloth from home. And Applebloom brought her limited knowledge of chemistry she had learned from Zecora and a book on the subject of minerals she had borrowed from the library.

Everything else they already had at the clubhouse. Including a large collection of minerals they had dug up from the quarry in their attempt to earn their rock excavator marks. With some effort they where able to identify the minerals that would best make an explosive compound.

They grinded up large amounts of minerals and mixed them along with some supposedly Nitrogenic liquid Applebloom manage to produce in their chemistry set. They poured it into the toilet rolls that they sealed with glued on paper lids. Added a string for a fuse and warpped the whole package in the red cloth. Making it look more like a stick of dynamite.

In the end they ended up with so many that they had to build a crate to hold them.
Sadly none of these activity’s resulted in any of them getting their marks.

Not wanting their hard work to go to waste, they put the box on their cart and hauled it out to the hills outside the village, where no pony would disturb their bomb testing.

“This will be good.” Said Scootaloo as she reached the top of the tallest hill on her scooter.

Behind her came Sweetie Belle pulling the cart. Her legs trembled from strain and she was sweating waterfalls as she struggled to pull the heavy load up the steep hill.

“You don't have to do that on yer own” said Applebloom. Who only carried a saddlebag with refreshment.

“No. If I'm gonna be shorty then I'm gonna do it like shorty” She said, even though her knees felt like rubber.

Applebloom rolled her eyes at her stubbornness and handled her a bottle of juice when she finally reached the hilltop.

Scootaloo pulled down a mannequin from the cart. It had once served as base for their attempts as dress making. Now it was gonna serve as target practice. Scootaloo rushed over to the next hill on her scooter and set up the mannequin, that had been crudely painted with big angry eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Scootaloo's fantasies were already running wild.

“Imagine a thousand. No, tens of thousands. No, a million Bloodbots coming over those hills to attack Ponyville. And only tree brave little fillies stands in their way.”

Scootaloo Put a mach in her mouth and picked up one of the dynamite rolls and started juggling it.

“Fear not Ponyville! For we, the Cutie Mark Crusaders will not let the Bloodbots pass!”

Scootaloo lit the fuse and threw the pipebomb as hard as she could at the Bloodbot mannequin. Yelling at the top of her lungs.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS BLOODBOT FIGHTERS! YAAAAAY!”

It didn't even get half way before hitting the ground, rolled downhill and came to a stop in the valley between the hills.

The Cmc watched the fuse sparkle and crackle until it disappeared into the Dynamite. It gave of a small poof and went silent.

The fillies started going over their notes and schematic. Of which there weren’t many due to the largely improvised nature of construction. All they had was a bunch of hastily scribbled notes and drawings which left much up to interpretation and imagination. At this point Sweetie realized that they wouldn't get their marks in schematic drawing or note taking either.

After a few minutes of pondering and bickering they started talking about what to do. Deciding they had to check on the bomb Scootaloo walked down to the fallen contraption and carefully poked it with her hoof a few times. When nothing happened she picked it up and started unwrapping it.

“I'm not sure you're suppose to do that.” Said Applebloom.

“Oh come on!” Said scoot. “Its obviously gone out. We just need to replace the fuse and...”

She didn't get any further down the sentence. As she tried to remove the lid the pipebomb suddenly blew up in her face. A loud crack filled the air and she disappeared behind a thick black fog.

“Scootaloo!” Sweetie and Applebloom yelled simultaneously as they ran down the hill towards her.

The fog lifted as they reached the valley, relieving a ragged Scootaloo.
Her face and forelegs was covered in soot and her mane had been blown back into a spiky smoldering mess.

Applebloom and Sweetie ran over to check on their friend. Applebloom started padding Scoot's mane to put out the smoldering and Sweetie was padding her cheeks trying to get any response out of her.

“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea either.” She cried.

Finally Scootaloo opened her eyes. They looked excessively wight on her soot black face.
She let out a cough that sent a little black cloud out of her mouth.

“Ow... That hurt.”

Both Sweetie and Applebloom let out a sigh of relief.

“Luckily nothing got into your eyes.” Applebloom said as she checked over her newly blown up friend.

Scoot tried to move, but grimaced in pain and sat down again.

“Sweetie. Could you go and get the first aid kit?”

“You brought a first aid kit?”

“I always come prepared.”

“But you don't know first aid.” Said Scoot.

“No. But maybe its my special talent.”

Sweetie ran back up the hill and started looking around the cart. But couldn't find any first aid kit.

She looked over into the box. The first aid kit was sitting down in the bottom, almost buried under all the pipebombs.
She found the crate to high to reach down over. So she had to climb up till she was hanging over the edge of the box. Then she started shoving around the cylinders full of unstable explosives out of the way.

This would be so much easier if she had any magic, she thought. Then she would just have been able to levitate the first aid kit out of the box without endangering herself. Oh well, as long as she didn’t try to open the cylinders them she would not end up as Scoot.

Still, her lack of magic was a touchy subject for her. She feared that just as she and her two fellow crusaders was the last in class to get their marks. So would she be the last unicorn to develop any magic ability.

It was unusual for a filly her age to be so late to develop any magical talent. Just as it was unusual for a Pegasus like Scootaloo to not have developed the skill of flying. At least Scootaloo had her excuses and reasons. What if Sweetie to had some sort of disadvantageous handicap herself? What if they all had some kind of handicap that prevented them from getting their marks? Like the opposite of the cutie pox. Did such a condition exist?

Suddenly she couldn't help but imagine them all with wheelchairs and crutches for marks.
And if their crusading where gonna proceed like it had today. That might very well end up the case.

Finally she had gotten enough pipebombs out of the way to expose the handle of the first aid kit. She was able to reach down and grab it with her right hoof. But found that it was stuck to the inside of the box. The weight of the pipebombs where still pressing down on it.

She took a firm grab of the handle with her fetlock and started pulling.

As she did the weight of the box shifted. And the cart it was standing on started to roll under her. Sweetie rocked back and forth as she tried to free the medical box from its explosive prison. And her motions sent the the cart rolling back and fort on the hilltop.

Just as the first aid kit came loose the center of gravity shifted and Sweetie lost balance.
The cart shot away from under the box as it fell over backwards.

And Sweeties world exploded.

Due to some internal design flaw the contraptions were unstable. And the ruckus caused the whole thing to spontaneously combust.

Applebloom was still nursing Scootaloo when a huge shock wave threw them of their hooves. The hill side shook. The scooter flew over the next hill and struck down the manikin. The box shattered into a million pieces of sharp wooden chips that rained over the hillside along with the contents of a first aid kit.

Sweetie lost all perception of time and space as she sailed through the air. Her whole world had become a painful spinning . Bright white light filled her eyes and her ears where ringing so loud she couldn't hear the wind rushing past her, or her friends screaming her name.

She suddenly was reacquainted whit what was up and down as she hit the ground hard on her haunches. She bounced a few times and then rolled down the hillside. Finally coming to a stop sprawled out on her back.

Her ears were till ringing. She wasn’t even sure she ever heard the explosion. She wasn’t sure she could hear anything anymore. Did she even have ears any more? Or were they gone? Did she still have anything? Or was part of her missing?

She tried to move but everything hurt. Her head was pounding like a drum. Her vision was foggy and unclear.

Cutie marks of wheelchairs and crutches alright.

She managed to move her head enough to look down on herself. Her coat was black with soot and several small wood chips where sticking out of her fur. And her right hoof was bleeding.

Something was sticking out of it. A splinter. A big splinter. A piece of wood was sticking out of her leg!

Suddenly all her pain was forgotten. She immediately sat up on her haunches. Her vision instantly cleared as she looked down on the big jagged chip of wood in her fetlock. Blood covered her entire lower leg but surprisingly she couldn't feel any pain at all. In fact she couldn't feel her right hoof at all!

The only thing she could feel was herself starting to hyperventilate. She reached out with her other hoof and touched the pole in her leg. Poking at it in disbelief to see if it would fall of. It didn't. It was stuck deep.

Panic washed over her like a bucket full of ice.

She grabbed it and started to pull. She twisted and jerked it. Blood spurted as she did, but still she couldn't feel anything other than her leg moving with the pulling. She became certain that the massive log in her leg was blocking the flow of blood to her hoof. Certain that it was preventing it from feeling and moving it.

What if she had to amputate her hoof? She did not want to loose her hoof and she didn't want any log stuck in her leg.

She pulled the leg in one direction and the log in the other. Harder and harder, until finally the log came out. The force of her pull sent it flying over the hills away from her.

She looked down on her leg. And eminently wised she didn't.

Her hoof was still there. As was her leg. But the fur in between was gone. Her skin hung in black burned shreds that didn’t reach beneath her fetlock. Her fetlock was covered in blood. But the fetlock itself wasn't bleeding. The blood only came from the edge where her torn up skin ended.

Below that was machinery. A multi layered network of synthetic pistons, gears and twisted metal components wrapped up in a plaid checked pattern of cords and wires.
A joint of a steel cylinder that twisted her hoof around in confusion. Connected to a skeleton of hydraulics
and tendons of metal. All held together by nuts and bolts. All black burned and bloody.

It looked like when the skin had been ripped of a Bloodbot.

In the depth of the gears. In the hole the stick had made. A faint blue light wad pulsating and the damage was slowly knitting itself back together.

As she looked a droop of her blood fell into the hole and the closing contraptions.

She opened her mouth to scream... But no sound came out.

She fell. But did not hit the ground.

She fell through it. Downwards. Inwards. She was falling into an eternal maelstrom. She fell through the eye of the vortex. Down through an eternal well of all her knowledge. All her memories. All her emotions. Spinning around her. Being retold. Relived. Re-experienced backwards, downwards, to the earliest days of her brief existence.

And below them. Nothingness. Darkness. She fell towards that darkness.

But before she could reach it something rushing towards her. A tiny red dot that approached fast. As she got closer she realized that it was herself. An all red replica of herself. Reflected in an invisible mirror that where heading for her at neck breaking speed. As the two Sweeties met face to face, she smashed into something. Like the ice of a frozen lake. The surface cracked, but did not break, while Sweetie herself splattered. Her body liquefying into a big red puddle.

Somehow still conscious she could feel the substance that she was zipping into the cracks.

***

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes. She was sitting upright in the grass. Her head bent back and her jaw haning open. Her weary eyes stared straight up in the clear blue sky. Even through the ache in her body, she smiled.
Oh thank the blue skies above. It was just a dream, a silly little shell shocked induced hallucination.

She must have lost consciousness from the explosion. Her body was still hurting so at least she knew that this was the real world. She slowly lowered her gaze over the still smoldering hilltop and the debris an splinters that laid scattered over the hillside.

Then she noticed two others standing in front of her, at the foot of the hill.

Scootaloo and Applebloom. With most confusing look in their faces.

As they stared, their jaws fell. Applebloom dropped the bandage she'd been carrying.

'Oh no'. Sweetie thought. She must be hurt worse than she tough.

Scootaloo face suddenly became very aggressive. Without warning she leaped forward onto Sweetie and tackled her to the ground.
Sweetie let out a yelp pf pain, that was immediately drowned out by Scootaloo screaming in her face.

“WHERE IS SHE!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SWEETIE BELLE!?”

Sweetie Belle was twisting trying to get away. But Scootaloo was standing with her front hooves firmly pressed down on her shoulder.

“Ow! Scootaloo it hurts. Let me go!”

“NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE DONE WITH SWEETIE BELLE!”

“I AM SWEETE BELLE!” She screamed.

“NO, YOU ARE NOT! You're some kind of Bloodbot that kidnapped Sweetie and put on her skin!"

Scootaloo's face shifted to a realization of horror over what she had just said.

“OMG! YOU KILLED SWEETIE AND PUT ON HER SKIN!”

The weight on her shoulders disappeared as Applebloom pulled Scootaloo of her.
Sweetie sat up. Panting on the verge of hyperventilating. Her heat was racing in a speed she had never fleet before.

“What are you doing!?” She whimpered.

“Stopping you Bloodbots!” Scootaloo growled.

Bloodbots? They had both just been blow up and Scootaloo was still playing Bloodbots? She must have gotten a concussion from that explosion.

“ Stop it! Stop with you dumb games. It isn't funny any more!”

“Your right it isn't! We want the real Sweetie Belle back!”

“I am the real Sweetie Belle!”

“ SWEETIE BELLE AIN'T SOME DUMB ROBOT!”

“I AM NOT A ROBOT!”

“Sweetie look at your hoof!” Said Applebloom.

She looked down. And found her skin still very much blown of a mechanical fetlock.

No. this couldn't be right. That had just been a shock induced hallucination. Right? Was she still hallucinating? Did she have a concussion?
She looked looked at her friends. Whom looked just as confused and scared as she was.

“Sweetie... what is that?”

Sweeties mind recoiled from Applebloom's question, desperately searching for an explanation.

“It must be one of those fake legs. A Prosthesis! Yes! It has to be a prosthesis. One of those that you get when you have lost your real legs.”

The words where flying out of her mouth as fast as the thoughts formed in her head.

“Or Discord! Yes! It must be Discord. He did this to me!”

Applebloom was looking even more confused then before.

“I thought Discord was reformed?”

“Yes. But you know how he is. Always looking for a chance to cause a little mischief.”

She smiled nervously. Taking long deep breaths to prevent herself from hyperventilating.
The others still looked like they didn't know what to believe.

“Sweetie. How long have you been...? ”

“NEVER!” she screamed. Anger flaring up inside her. She shot up on all fours, all her scrapes and bruises suddenly forgotten. She marched over to her so called fiends and yelled in their faces.

“I HAVE NEVER BEEN A ROBOT!”

Why couldn’t they understand that? Why where they doing this to her?

“And it you are dumb enough to think that then you really should get a mark in stupidity!” She finished.

Applebloom and Scootaloo where left speechless. She stared them down, waiting for if they had any more dumb things to say. And when they didn't she dusted herself of and collected her scarf from the derbis. She picked up the band aid Applebloom had dropped and started to wrap it around her damaged fetlock.

No. Injured. Not damaged. She reminded herself.

She then proceed to picking the splinters out of her with a pair of tweezers that had scattered from the first aid kit. And washed o the last of the soot of with the contents from a broken bottle of eye-cleaning.

All the while her friends where silently staring at her like she was going to fry them with her laser eyes.
She could not understand how they could act like this. Didn't they know her? Did years of friendship mean nothing? Why did they look like they didn't even recognize her?

She couldn't stand those looks in their eyes. If they where gonna be dumb an call her a robot, she didn't want to be around them anymore. She finished wrapping herself up and excused herself. Then turned her back on the tragic scene and galloped away.

She needed to get home. But she couldn't go home all bandaged up. She needed some way to cover this. Otherwise questions would be asked. Questions she was nor ready to face.

She pulled of her scarf. 'Needs must', the thought. They had needle and thread in the clubhouse. Without further ado she set a course for it.

Thoughts swirled in her head.
She was Sweetie Belle. And Sweetie Belle wasn't a robot. That would just be silly. She was a born filly.

Born – not built. She had no memories of being built.

Come to think of it. Se had no memories of being born either.

Did any foal have memories of the exact day they were born?

Cheerilee hadn't exactly moved onto the topic of where little fillies come from.

The thought started playing with her imagination. Just how where little fillies made?

How was she...made?

***

Home at the Carousel Boutique, Rarity was enjoying her late evening tea.

Since Sweetie Bell was not yet home, her only company was a copy of the Equestrian Daily. The national newspaper that bore news concerning the entire country. She was particularly interested in a big article concerning the last autumn rain.

The door bell rang but she did not get up. At this hour it could only mean her younger sister was home.

Levitating the newspaper in front of her she turned to face the kitchen door as Sweeties hoof steps entered.

“Listen to this Sweetie” She said without looking up from the newspaper. “It said that the Pegasus weather committee would like to apologize for the rainstorm that, due to a miscalculation, will pull in over Equestria just before Hearths Warming Eve.”

She quoted the newspaper.

“Due to agreements with the farming council. This last autumn rain must hit the ground before the cold of winter. Not wanting to ruin any hearts warming eve preparations the national weather council has decided to pull all remaining downfall into one big rainstorm that will travel over Equestria. This will be the biggest collaboration between weather patrols teams nationwide.

Every pony is advised to check with their local weather patrol for when the storm is about to hit your neighborhood. And is further advised to stay indoors while the storm passes. This rainstorm should not remain over any given area for more than a day or two.

The weather council apologizes for the inconvenience and tells the public not to worry. We have snow clouds on standby that will arrive just after the rain in time for hearts warming eve”

“It Looks like there wont be any snow until Heart Warming eve itself.” she said with a sigh.

“Personally I just think those pegasi found out they had to empty their cloud reservoirs after that particular hot summer. Don´t you agree Sweetie?”

Receiving no immediate answer she looked up from the newspaper.

One look at her younger sister revealed that she had had at tough day.

“Oh my Sweetie! You look absolutely ragged. Whatever have you been up to?”

“Crusading” Sweetie answered bluntly.

Rarity let out a sigh.

“No mark today either? I know you and your friends are trying hard but maybe you are trying a little to hard. Let it come to you. Once you find out what makes you special you will know.”

Sweetie remained silent. Her eyes remaining on Rarity with a strange look.

“Was there something else?”

With some hesitation, Sweetie asked her question.

“Rarity... How are little filly’s made?”

Rarity lost her breath for a second. This was a question she had hoped not to answer till much later in life. In fact, she had hoped not to have to answer it at all. It was mom and dads job to explain about the bees and the flowers. Who or what had put these thoughts in her young mind? Had she meet a colt? Had Cheerilee started with that kind of education?

Rarity stumbled her way through the conversation. “Well you see. When a mare and a stallion loves each other very much...”

“They write a letter to Celestia.” Sweetie finished “I have heard this story before sister. I didn’t ask where they come from. I asked how they were made.”

“Did not.” Rarity corrected “Not 'didn’t.' It's pronounced 'Did not'. Manners darling.”

She knew her sister used to get upset about being lectured in proper speech (or lady like manners in general for that part) and she actually hoped it would steer the conversation away from the unpleasant topic.

No such luck this time however, as Sweetie just stared deadpanned at her awaiting an answer.

“Sorry. You where saying?”

“I know that fillies comes from mothers tummy”

She did? Rarity was so going to have a talk with Cheerilee

“Well yes. They are born when they come out of mothers … Tummy.”

Please do not ask about the messier details. She thought.

“Do all foals come out of mothers tummy?”

“Yes.”

“If you are not born from mothers tummy ... are you not a foal then?”

Rarity got a blank expression on her face.

“Well... whatever do you mean Sweetie?”

“You said that foals come out of mothers tummy. But can they be made outside the tummy? Why do they have to go inside mother to begin with?”

Rarity was struggling to find an answer to the uncomfortable questions. Not helped by that Sweetie kept flooding her with questions.

“How do you even get into mothers tummy? Does Celestia put them there? Or does dad? I heard some say he uses his horn. Is there magic involved?”

This time Rarity relay lost her breath.

In order to steer away the conversation from this unpleasant topic Rarity looked down on Sweeties legs,
noticing the long purple and pink striped socks that ran up them.

“Oh Sweetie those are some lovely socks. They match your hair relay well.”

This time it was Sweetie who lost her breath and suddenly seemed very eager to leave the room.

“Yes. We tried to earn our Cutie Marks in crocheting today”

She excused herself and left for the little fillies room.

Rarity let out a relaxed sigh and returned to her newspaper. But a thought rubbed her perceptionus mind.

Had not Sweetie already tried to get her mark in crocheting? And had those socks not been of the exact same colors as her scarf?

***

Sweetie went to bed early that night. She skipped evening supper saying that she wasn't hungry. In truth food was the last thing on her mind. Her stomach seemed to be revolting over all these questions that just would not leave her mind.

She had not been able to get a straight answer from Rarity. Apparently that was the common reaction whenever the young asked their parents where they had come from, and chosen not to buy the 'letter to Celestia' explanation.

She had dug through the study looking for evidence. Of something that proved she had been in mothers tummy. But came up empty hoofed.

Rarity found her in the study, digging through a not-so-old photo album. She asked why there weren't any pictures of her as a little filly.

“Oh. Mom and dad have those deary. I'm not much for keeping photos of the old days.” Rarity had answered.

That was certainly true. Sweetie knew how ashamed Rarity was of their parents. Not that she understood why. She thought they where the best parents in the world. But she knew Rarity thought they lacked style.

She had been there when Rarity tried to get them to dress better. It had not gone over well. Their parents did not take appearances as seriously as their daughter did.

Perhaps that was why she hadn't found a single picture of their parents anywhere in the Boutique.
The only photos she did find was of the time after she moved in with her sister in Ponyville.

The rest of the albums had been filled with hundreds of photos and magazines cut outs of dresses, or pretty mares in dresses, and stallions that her sister apparently found attractive but to Sweetie just looked sleazy .

Why? Who doesn’t keep a single picture of their parents or their childhood?

She really, really must have been embarrassed by their parents, Sweetie thought as she rolled back and forth in her bed. That was the thought she clanged onto. Because the alternative was far worse.

That she was hiding the truth. That she had not come from mothers belly like a normal foal. That she had been lied to all her life. Not just by Rarity. But by mom and dad as well.

As she finally drifted of to sleep. Rarity's words plagued her mind.

Once you know what makes you special...

Suddenly a mark of crutches didn't seem so bad.

***

Meanwhile, at Ponyville train station, the midnight train was just arriving.

For a moment the quiet station became bustling with activity as tired, sleepy passengers from near and far exited the train.

One pair stood out from the crowd by the fact they looked like a pair of tourists on a summer vacation.

A soft pink slightly overweight mare with a purple mane tied up in a bundle so big it looked like she had an extra head. It required a bandana for support. She was dresses in a garish upholstery of a bright red shirt and equally bright wight trousers. And she wore a pair of big yellow earrings along with a necklace made of seashells.

Her companion was a white stallion with a sprawling strawhat and a short sleeved shirt bearing a flower motif.
He had a big shrubby mustache and a pair of equally shrubby eyebrows that seemed to half cover his eyes.

They each wore a set of saddlebags. The mare also carried a bright pink purse (that somehow clashed badly against her own pink fur) in a golden chain around her neck.

A heap of more bags and trunks where loaded onto a tray next to them. (They had tipped the stationmaster well for helping them with all their luggage.)

The stallion took a deep breath of the chilly autumn air.

“Here we are. At long last.”

“Yes.” Said the mare “I cant wait to see out little darlings one again”

“Can you imagine how surprised they will be?” The stallion said with a laugh.

“Yes. They will be very, very surprised...”

Her voice trailed of. She tried to smile but instead her brow frowned with worry.
She looked down on her purse. Touching it with her hoof as to make sure it was still there.

The stallion put a hoof on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Its getting late darling. Let the little darlings sleep.”

“Yes. Lets give them a little more time...”

They decided to check into the local hotel. The stallion put his forehooves on the tray and steered down the street.

Though none of them said a thing. They both knew one thing for sure. For better or worse. This was gonna be one Hearths Warming Eve they would not soon forget.

As they left the station they did not notice the shadowy figure trailing them.

...............................
My little pony friendship is magic is owned by Hasbro
I do not own any of the intellectual properties this fan-fiction is based on.

...............................

Author's Note

If the grammar seems a little weird. Know that English is not my native language.

If you find any spelling errors or outright bad grammar, please let me know in the comments.

Chapter 10. Cooking up Trouble

Sweetie laid awake in the bed, just staring up at the ceiling. She had learned that if she deactivated her blinking subroutine she could keep her eyes open forever. And if she deactivated the senses in her eyes she did not feel them drying out, or the need to blink as dust landed upon them.

She had been lying for what felt like hours, singling out individual sensors. Turning her sense of touch off and on in different areas of her body. It was an odd feeling indeed, to drag her hooves across her body, feeling the almost checker like pattern of palpable and absence.

The touching game had now reached her eyes, and she repeatedly poked at her eyeball with the tip of her left undamaged hoof. Her hoof felt the soft and squishy membrane. Felt the moist surface of tears gathering upon it. And she saw the red lines of nerves appearing in her field of vision as she dragged the hoof across her eyeball. She was careful, as to not rupture the membrane. She had no idea how much or little an eyeball was suppose to be able to take . They where supposed to be sensitive, fragile things. And here she was, letting the dust fall upon her open eyes without flinching.

She closed her eyes. She wondered if they were mechanical too. Just how much of her was?
She touched her cheek. If felt as soft as it always had.
But then again, she though as she held her hoof up in front of her. Her legs felt as soft as they always had as well. Regardless of that she knew they were mechanical underneath the skin.

Was the skin the only part of her that was alive? Could she really be just skin and nothing else?
Could skin have thoughts and feelings all on its own? Could skin have a soul?

Where was the seat of the soul anyway? There was no place in biology class were they said “here is the soul”. There was no organ in the body that was said to contain the soul. The soul was just your energy in your body.
How much of your body could you lose before you lost your soul? Just how much of a pony's body could you remove before it was not a pony any more? What part could you not replace?

There was only one logical answer to that question: The brain.

Doctor Cardiac has said that all thoughts emotions comes from the brain. The brain made sure all the other organs did their thing. Then did not the soul sit in the brain as well?

Sweetie dragged her hooves across her forehead. Maybe she had a real brain. With wrinkles. That would mean she was alive, right? That would mean she had a soul.

And if she had a real Brain. Maybe her head was real too?

Come to think of it The only part of herself she had not been able to see when Nurce Brittlebone cast the X-ray spell was her own head. There had been no mirror in the classroom.

Maybe she was a real head attached to a mechanical body?

Sweetie jumped out of the bed, and walked into the bathroom.
The caretaker, Brick, had called the room a luxury suite because it had its own bathroom. In truth it was little more than a cosset. A sink and a toilet shoved into barely more than a square meter of floor.

Sweetie gave the toilet seat a dumbfounded look. She did not know how long it had been since she last relieved herself. But she did not feel any pressure from her nether regions. It was as if all those needs were turned off. Weird. She had no memory of doing that.

She ignored that for now, and climbed up on the toilet to reach above the sink. To be able to look into the simple square mirror.

The same little sick looking filly looked back at her from the glass, as it had been last time. Her biological exterior had taken a beating from the horrid climate she had pushed herself through. But she did not let that bother her. She wondered what laid underneath that skin.

A worried thought entered her mind. What if the skin was not alive? What if it was just a meat-sack wrapped over her true body to make her blend in? Something she just wore, like clothing. Ponies didn't even need clothes for the most part. They had fur. The fur was their clothing. And the fur was attached to the skin. The skin was the clothes of the body.

And like clothing – you would be able to take it off.

She grabbed around her cheek, and pulled. As hard as the old mares at the elderly home would pull. She did not know how thick the flesh was in the cheek. But whatever it was made of it did not came loose, regardless if she put all the strength she could muster behind it.

She stopped her self and let go of he cheek. It had become red from the strain and a little voice in her head told her it would hurt. But she could not pull it off. Her skin was too tough. It had taken a cart full of homemade explosives to remove it from her foreleg.

She looked down at her right foreleg, and removed the sock. The scar from when she had tried to pull the skin back was still there. She grabbed hold of it and pulled some. The skin continued to loosen from her leg with a tearing sound. The roots of the nerve clusters came of one by one an they were plucked like weeds from their tiny red sensors crystals, whom one by one went dark.

Before to long she'd managed to roll her skin up like the sleeve on a sweater. But the bundle of loose biomass was stopped at the shoulder. Her inability to proceed made her question what she was doing.

What was her plan anyway? To rip the skin open all the way to her head so she could see if the metal ceased at her neck?
What would she do then anyway? Walk out of here as a robot body with a pony head on top? Did she really think ponies would not look upon her different then? If anything they would be more disgusted if such a horror came waking around. Sweetie didn't want to be any horror. She wanted to be a pony. And that was all she wanted everypony else to see.

She slowly pulled the skin back down over her mechanical leg.

She looked back into the mirror. Into her eyes. They looked just like they always had. The skin around them might have gotten pale, and big black bags had appeared under them. But the iris remained the same green color. One of her eyes- the one she had been poking at, was red and irritated.

Rarity had once said that the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. How could she possibly not have a soul if she had such eyes?
But If the skin was just a thin organic fabric pulled over her body. Then maybe the same was true for the membrane over her eyes?

She leaned closer to the mirror. Until she could see the red lines of veins reflected in the glass. Placing her elbows on the sink for balance she tried to pull her eyelids away. Tried to look underneath or above the eyeballs. To see if there were any connection ports hidden underneath the eyelids. There was nothing other than red soft flesh.

That didn't prove anything. She knew how thick her flesh could be. Maybe the eye-membrane was simply grown into the flesh?
She leaned in even closer. Until her chest pressed up against the sink. Until her muzzle touched the glass.

Until she lost balance.

Her back hooves slid off the toilet seat. In the fall she instinctively grabbed for something to hang onto. And the nearest thing to her front hooves were the edges of the mirror.
The mirror detached from the wall and her elbows slammed into the sink. She dropped the mirror and fell onto the floor.

-:: Initiate defensive roll ::-

Sweetie pulled her hooves above her head and curled up into a ball, expecting to have the mirror smash down upon her. even thought she would not be able to feel it it was reflexively to brace herself.

But the smash was slow in coming. The only thing her ears registered was a slow creaking and the clinking as something - that did not sound like glass - fell in the sink.

A soft thump from something landing next to her caused her to open her eyes. It was a small cardboard box with the picture of a plaster on the side.

Sweetie looked up. The mirror was hanging out from the wall, having swung open on a pair of hinges. Behind the mirror there was a large hole in the wall. And the hole was stuffed to the brim with all kinds of things. Bandages. Syringes. Medical tape. Bloodpacks. Combs. Cans of wool. Bottles of medicine. Canned food. Magazines and even a few golden coins and pieces of jewelry.

Sweetie got back up and examined the hole. This clearly was no ordinary bathroom cabinet. The hole was far too crudely shaped. It was made by removing a few bricks in the wall, as well as the stuffing insulation inside it, to make room for more stuff. And the stuff was stacked and crammed into every last available inch, packed so tight it had come falling out when the mirror opened.

Sweetie wondered if the whole wall was filled with stuff instead of insulation. Who had put it there? She started going through the stuff and began putting it back into the overstuffed cabinet. It looked mostly like stuff you find in a medical cabinet apart from a few odd things.

Why would the hospital store anything like this? She wondered. Maybe the doctors had simply run out of space to store their goods and had to make a new secret stash? But shy would it be secret? And why had they not cleared it out before she moved in? Maybe it had just slipped their minds?

Like a good little filly she began picking the boxes of plaster and band aid out of the sink and putting them back into the stash.

One thing at the bottom of the sink caught her eyes. A scalpel. One of those special knives doctors uses to cut flesh when they operate.

An idea surfaced in her head. Maybe she did not have to rip her skin apart to examine the status of her brain. Maybe she could just open up and take a look.

She brought the scalpel up to her forehead. She made sure her pain sensors were off. She took a deep breath, and subconsciously turned her breathing off to not have to let it out. She pulled her mane away. Her hoof shook slightly as she placed the scalpel against her forehead.

She told herself to calm down. That If she had a real head then there would be a thick layer of cranium between the knife and her brain. That it was okay to remove a little skin to satisfy her curiosity. A part of her desired to see that she would see white cranium, proof that she had a living head.

She brought the knife down, and let it slide.

It was true what they say about scalpels. They really do cut like a hot knife through butter.

The only thing she saw was a thick red line. She raised her hooves and pulled the line apart.
The wound was filled with red blood. But behind it she could see something solid. Something hard. It was her cranium.
She opened the wound a little more. and took a big lump of blood absorbent batt to wipe the wound clean.

The batt turned red. And when she pulled it away to reveal the clean open patch of her cranium.

It was grey. Metal grey.

Sweetie just stood there looking at it. She even poked at it with the scalpel a few times. Producing a metallic cling sound. Scraping it even made a fain blue light appear to fade the scratch-marks away.

Her mind stood still.

Maybe ... maybe there was a real brain on the other side of that metal. Right? If anything she should be glad it was there! It was far better protection of the most important body part than some fragile bone!

Sweetie just stared at the metallic surface as new blood began to form at the edges of the open wound. She followed a drop as it made its way down her face. Painting a red line right between her green eyes.

Her eyes ...

She had to know.

She brought the scalpel up to her eyes. The tip glimmered in the dim light as it approached her pupil. And suddenly her vision went red.

The scalpel clinked into the sink.

Sweetie looked up into the mirror. A trail of blood had fallen into her eyes from the wound running across her forehead.
Her heart sank like a rock in water. What was she doing? What had she done to herself?
She had cut open her forehead from ear to ear, and the blood was now pouring down her face like a waterfall.

She was ruining herself. Her skin might not be anything more than a organic blanket stretched over a mechanical core. But it was still her skin, her fur and her looks. It was part of the pony who she was. It was her shield that prevented anypony from seeing the horror underneath.It was her one remaining comfort in that everypony else saw a pony when they looked at her.

And what would everypony else say if they saw her now? With blood over her face and a large open wound in her head? She could not show herself like this!

Sweetie opened the water faucet on full burst, and splashed her face to wash away all the blood. Her mane and chest were drenched before the blood had ceased to flow.
And then she still had a big hole in her forehead. The metal cranium was glistening wet in the bathroom lamp.

She had to close the wound.

Sweetie grabbed one of the packages of plaster and began taping the wound shut.
She pinned the wound closed with one hoof and applied as many plasters as necessary until she had covered her forehead. She considered wrapping her head in bandages. But that would be too obvious, and raise questions. She instead pulled out some medicinal tape and put a big patch over all the plaster.

Now she has quite the package under her horn.

She took a comb and pulled her drenched mane down over her face. She managed to make her hair long enough to hang down over her eyes. She had to sacrifice the curls. But at least a new mane-style would not draw as much unwanted attention/questions as a big plaster over her head.

Sweetie put the last things back into the hole and closed the mirror by re-attaching the hooks that were suppose to keep the mirror to the wall.

She walked out into the room. A shivering sequence was starting up, making her whole body shake in response to the horror of what the had done. And how much further she would have gone, if she had not stopped herself. She had been ready to tear herself apart looking for her soul. But what if the skin really was the only part of her that was alive? Then she would have be killing herself. She would have been destroying the one thing that made her a pony.

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door.

-:: Crying sequence aborted ::-

"Who is it!" Sweetie asked. She just barely keep herself from screaming.

"It's Cardiac. May I come in?"

-:: Panic levels rising ::-

Why? Why did he come now? What could he possibly want? And shat was she to do?
She had no idea what to tell him. But she did not dare to tell him to go away. It would only create suspicion.

Sweetie brunched her mane down as far as she could, turned her breathing back on and took a few deep breaths to calm herself before opening the door.

But the first face in through the door wasn't Cardiac's orange face. But the face of a light blue mare, who immediately licked Sweetie across the face.

"Look who's happy to see you." Cardiac said as he entered behind Screwloose. "Since you are getting along so well I thought she could come to visit you for a change. Maybe she could play in your room."

"Um...Right. Sure." Sweetie said as she scratched the mare behind the ears.

His eyes swept over Sweetie. "Do you have a new mane style?"

"Yes." Sweetie forced a sheepish grin. "I undid it so we could do each others manes again."

Cardiac eyed her for a second. A second during which Sweetie prayed to Celestia he would not buy the half baked lie.

"Okay then." He said, A smile returning to his face.

He turned his tail and left. Shutting the door behind him. And Sweetie was alone with the older mare.

The smile had melted off Screwloose's face. She sniffed at Sweetie, sensing that something as wrong. Her muzzle got closer and closer to Sweeties face, until it touched her forehead, and began punching the mane away.

"No!" Said Sweetie and backed away.

Screwloose whimpered, and her ears flattened to her scull . She sat down and reached out her forehooves to grab Sweetie.

"I said NO!"

Sweetie lashed out with both forehooves, and pushed Screwloose away. The mare quickly retreated to the other end of the small room.

"I'm not your doll!" Sweetie yelled. "I'M NOT YOUR DOLL!"

-:: Hate levels rising ::-

"I'm a pony! I'm not your chewing toy! I'm a pony! I'm not anypony's possession! I'm a Pony! Not an object! I'm a pony, I'm a pony, I'M A PONY!"

She stomped the floor to emphasize every word.

"I'm my own little pony! Do you get that? My own! Not yours! NOT ANYPONYS!"

As she kept yelling at the mare the rage inside her slowly subsided. She actually felt a bit of joy in putting her hoof down. It felt good to vent some of this pressure. It felt good to tell this mare that she was not a possession of her's, or anyponys!

Said mare laid flat on the floor. Face down in the carpet, ears flat to the skull and her tail between her legs.
She whimpered as quietly as a mouse. Her worried, defeated look carrying a pleading message to Sweetie. She was afraid that Sweetie would hurt her.

Looking into the sad, scared eyes of Screwloose quickly made Sweeties fiery heart freeze over. What was she doing? Where had all this rage come from? And why was she taking it out on this mare?

-:: Sadness levels rising ::-

"No." She said. Her voice trembling "No, no, no, no,no, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

She reached out an apologetic hoof towards Screwloose. But the mare winced and pulled herself further away. Sweetie retracted her hoof as if she had been burned. Burned by the mares rejection. Had she just managed to scare away the only friend she had in this place?

Sweetie sank back on her haunches.

-:: Crying sequence resuming ::-

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She mumble. Each word becoming weaker then the next. Before it was all drowned out by sobs.

Suddenly she registered a weight leaning down over her. Looking up she saw that Screwloose had put her forelegs around her.

Sweetie turned around and returned the hug. She apologized as best as she could.How scary must Sweetie not have seemed to this mare in that moment. How horrid must it not be to have somepony scream disapprovingly at her like ... like that wretched mare in the memory.
Just looking at Screwloose made Sweetie remember the horror that had been transferred into her from that strange blue disk. A disk that had been inside the poor, poor mares head.

"I saw ... what they did to you ... They hurt you ... because they wouldn't let you be who you are."

Once Sweetie had started talking about it she could not stop. And even if Screwloose could understand a single word, she was more than able to share in empathy.

"I know what its like. To not have anypony letting you be what you want to be... to have them look at you like there's something wrong with you. But its not us there is something wrong with. Its them. THEM! They can all take their judging eyes and shove them up their buttholes!"

Sweetie felt the rage coming back. And apparently so did Screwloose. She started licking Sweetie in the ear. The onslaught of saliva put out Sweeties fuse, and the rage inside her subsided. She actually allowed herself to laugh a little at the tickling feeling.

It was only when the licking stopped that Sweetie realized that the mare had licked her mane out of the way. Screwloose now rubbed her muzzle against the package on her forehead. It had already begun to fall apart at the seams, and a single plaster loosened and fell into Sweeties lap.

Sweetie let out the heaviest of sighs. She would not be able to hide this. her mane was not a sufficient cover. She would attract to much attention and questions.

Screwloose just looked at it. And there seemed to be a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She grabbed hold of the bow Sweetie had made for her yesterday, and pulled it off her mane (a few chunks of gray hair followed) She undid the bow, and tied the string of fabric around Sweeties forehead. Like a a bandana.

Now the plaster was held properly in place. And it made her look more like she was making a poor fashion statement that would make her sister cry - rather than a masochist. Sweetie might still draw attention, but at least they would not lock her up, wearing a restraining jacket, in a room made of mattresses. (Even if Rarity would have argued the contrary.)

Sweetie just looked at the Screwloose, not without some semblance of awe. Once again this supposedly insane mare had shown a simplistic level of intelligence that was beyond Sweetie

A loud rumbling sound broke the silence. A sound that came from the abdomen of both mares

"Are you hungry?" Sweetie asked with a slight blush.

Screwloose nodded. Sweetie was quite hungry herself. The candy bars and sandwiches she had eaten were long since digested by her stomach and the emptiness were now sending its clear signals. She was sill far away from the starvation she had felt in the woods. And she would prefer to never, ever feel it again.

The common need to eat something drove the two to leave the room. There were no caretakers stationed outside their door to bring them anything today. So they had to find some food on their own.

Cardiac might have told them to stay and play in their room. But what harm could there be in going to take a snack in the kitchen?

What's the worst that could happen?

***

Sweetie walked past the main hall and common dining room to avoid anypony from yesterday wanting to play with her (or, Celestia forbid, comb her mane again.) and headed straight for the kitchen.

The head chef was an unusually busy mare, whose white coat was dotted with grease and food stains despite never actually cooking anything herself. All she did was walk around the different cooking stations and monitor what everypony was doing. Usually yelling at them with varying degrees of frustration what they should be doing.

The ponies at the stations were clearly no chefs themselves. Just more patients brought in to participate in another cooking session.
Everypony had their mane stuffed into a small plastic cap. Everypony also had their hooves shoved in similar plastic gloves.

When Sweetie asked for some food she was promptly put at an empty station and told to make some of her own. At first the head chef had told her to remove her socks. Sweetie immediately thought about leaving but stayed when she was handed a pair of plastic socks of her own. Though she was glad to have something to putt over her socks she had to ask why everypony had to wear them.

“For the same clinical reason I don't want your socks touching the food.” Said the head chef, who was so stressed she was looking at somepony else while talking to Sweetie. “For the first you are about to get them stained. Secondly we do not want any hair, fluff, stuffing or dirt getting into the food. That's why we also wear these caps.” She pointed to the plastic bags that she wore on her head and tail. “To prevent hair from falling into the food.”

If the mare had been looking at Sweetie she might have seen her trying to suppress a wry snicker. The caps that the chef wore were bulging so bad it looked like big blue mushrooms were growing out of her hear and rear.

“I'm telling you, Its a pain to have fur all over your body sometimes.” The chef continued to say as her eyes steeped the kitchen ”Some of the ponies here really don't know how to shave their fetlocks. And you don't even wanna know were someponies been with their hooves. And speaking of hooves ... PUT THAT KNIFE DOWN!” She yelled at a red pony who had caught her attention.

The chef (whose name Sweetie did not learn and was henceforth gonna be called Miss Mushroom) left Sweetie to go and stop that pony from bashing tomatoes with the blunt edge of a knife.

As she left, she more or less threw Sweetie a little plastic cap.
Rather than putting her mane up she pulled it so far down it engulfed her eyebrows. She thought her horn was gonna poke hole in the plastic, but would rather have it sticking out than showing off her head wound.

She looked down at Screwloose.

“I guess you need some gloves too?”

The gloves were easy enough to find in a small box next to the door. And Screwloose was soon dressed up in shoulder high gloves on all four legs, and a blue cap over her head and tail. Sweetie didn't even try to suppress her snicker, as Screwloose's long gray mane and tail resulted in some pretty big mushrooms when all the hair was shoved in them.

This drew the attention of Miss Mushroom. Whom apparently did not want to share in the snicker.

“Also, I don't want this mare in here!” She said with a frown.

“Why not? What has she done” Sweetie asked.

“Proves she is incapable of being around food for one thing” Said miss mushroom “Last time she was here she turned the place upside down. Licked several unfinished desert right out of the bowls and ate the main dish right out of the oven.”

Screwloose let out a happy bark. Miss mushroom answered it with a disapproving glare.

“Security. Could you please escort this mare back to her quarters.”

On her words, Two broad stallions entered the kitchen and began to flank Screwloose.

“But Cardiac said we were to be together.” Sweetie threw out.

Miss mushroom stopped the stallions with a wave of her hoof. This time she actually took a good close look at Sweetie. A little to close for Sweetie's taste as she found the eyes of others weighed uncomfortably heavy upon her.

“Cardiac Huh?” You must be Sweetie. The Boss's little personal case.”

Sweetie nodded.

“Ok then. I guess he knows what he is doing. She is your responsibility. But one screw up from this loose screw and she is out.”

***

Walking back to her station Sweetie had became aware of all the others eyes on her.
Their eyes weighed heavily on her. Really, she could not be the most interesting thing in this room, She was wearing a silly cap and gloves just like everypony else! So what were they looking at?

That uncomfortable feeling gnawed at her. That they knew. That they were searching for a tiny gap in her cover, to see the clockwork underneath. She instinctively pulled her gloves up a little higher. The weight of their eyes was getting to her.

She pulled a small stool to her station, to be able to reach up over her bench.

A series of kitchen appliances, ladles, whisks and knives, hung from a rack above the bench. App fastened at the end of chains, so that nopony could try and take anything with them.

Sweetie pulled down the knife. The chain was just long enough that she would be able slice up tomatoes on the bench. If she dropped it, it would not even fall off the bench. Only by holding her foreleg up on the the cutting board did she come within the reach of the blade.

Sweetie stared at the tip of the knife. One slip. That's all it would take. One slip and she would have yet another hole in her fragile skin. One more hole to cover up. One more thing to hide.

She found herself cursing her skin. No wonder she had been found out. Her skin was too fragile. It fell apart for nothing. Why could she not have been made of sterner stuff?

But what was the point of hiding anyway? All their eyes were just as heavy anyway. It felt like every pair of eyes could rip the skin from her body with mere looks alone. Was there really any difference between this and having no skin at all? She felt just as naked and exposed anyway.

“It will go faster if you get some ingredients.”

Sweetie was broken from her thoughts by Miss Mushroom.

The chef handed her a recipe, laminated in plastic. And directed her towards the pantry in the back of the kitchen

Walking to the pantry Sweetie caught the eyes of one yellow mare who had been facing her back towards her the entire time. She yelped when she saw Sweetie. She pulled a food tray as some sort of protective shield. And all the food that she had placed on that tray was spilled over her chest.

-:: Facial analysis // Match found // Replaying memory file ::-

For her inner eye, Sweetie got a glimpse of yesterdays hysterical mare being dragged away, screaming at the top of her lungs. A yellow mare with her long white hair. Sweetie barely recognized the mare as the blue cap that now hid her white mane.

She looked at Sweetie like she was the plague. It was a look that had previously filled Sweetie's heart with sorrow. Now it filled her with rage.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!" Sweetie could could not help but scream.

"Marrow!" Shouted Miss Mushroom. "What have you done? Now you are gonna have to make a whole new dinner."

The mares red eyes diverted from Sweetie, and swept across the room, and finally settled on herself. On the whole carrot soup with tomato pudding that were splashed over her. And on the big food tray that she still held like a shield between herself and Sweetie. She looked on the verge of hyperventilating. Her tiny, red irises had shrunken to pinhead size, and were shaking unfocused in her skull. Her jaw was hanging open, and a silent scream had gotten stuck in her throat.

Sweetie ignored the stupid crazy mare and entered the pantry. Deciding to focus on her cooking in order to try and subside her feelings.

Sweetie tried to tell herself that it wasn't the mare's fault. That there was something not all right in her head. That she probably just had some mental illness that made her behave like that. Still, this rage inside her, this fire that had boiled up from just the thought of anypony looking at her. Again, it had felt good to just tell a mare to stop staring at her. But she still felt like you would be able to cook a dinner on her head from all the steam inside her.

She picked up as many ingredients she could carry and walked back to her station. As she existed the pantry. The mare had been moved to the dishes, where Miss Mushroom and the caretakers were now cleaning her off.
They were asking her if she wanted to leave. But the mare seemed to have regained her senses and insisted that she would redo her dinner.

Sweetie did her best to shut out the rest of the world and just focus on the task in front of her,
Cooking could not be too hard. Her own family had never complained, and her dad had always liked the fried oranges she made.

Sweetie did her best to follow the recipe. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Plus a few things she added to improve the taste.

Since she did not want to walk past the stupid yellow mare every time to the fridge, she sent Screwloose.

Again, everypony was impressed by how easy Sweetie ordered Screwloose around. And how the mad mare seemed to understand what she asked of her.

Not that everything that Screwloose brought was what Sweetie had asked for. But Sweetie was to hungry to care. Preparing food took a long time and only made your belly roar louder.

The logical thing to do in order to speed up the process was to increase the heat of the oven, to make the food inside become done faster (that's how it worked right?)
She did the same for the pots on the stove. Or would have done if the stove worked. But no matter how much she turned the knobs she couldn't get any heat.

“I think my stove is broken”

Miss Mushroom walked over.

“Its not broken. These old stoves just needs a little spark.

She pulled up a black, plastic rod from her pocket, A light-stick, of the kind Sweetie's dad usually used to light candles or fireplaces.

"Its a good safety feature." She said with the rod in her mouth "That way nopony can start up a stove except me."

She leaned in close to the plate. She bit down even so slightly on the light-stick, and the tip started to sparkled.

But nothing happened.

“Told you it was broken.” Sweetie mumbled.

“No – Its just out of gas.”

Miss Mushroom turned around and called out.

“Hey! Marrow! Stove 24 is out again. Could you go and get a new canister – you know were it is.”

The yellow, nervous mare looked up, and nodded. She went into the pantry and came back a few minutes later, with a smile on her lips and a tube under her foreleg.

“I'm sorry about before.” She said as she opened a hatch on the bottom of the stove ans started removing the old canister inside.

Sweetie thought there was something off about her smile. She still seemed rather nervous, and tired not to look Sweetie in the eyes. But perhaps that was just her insanity that made her so twitchy. As she installed the tube, Marrow instead turned her attention to the purple stallion next to them.

“Shouldn’t you go get a new set of fries now?” She asked him “I'm pretty sure you have fried those fries 27 times now.”

Miss Mushroom did not like when anypony told others what to do, except her. But she asked the stallion to lift the basket of fries out of the batter. Doing so revealed a set of fries that were so hard and greasy that they were like rocks in slime. Miss Mushroom immediately directed him to the pantry for a new set. And then returned to impatiently tapping her hoof. The light stick in her mouth sparkled from time to time as she clicked on it with her teeth.

Sweetie too wished that marrow could hurry up with whatever maintenance work she was doing. Changing the gas tube apparently took a long time.

The purple stallion soon came back from the pantry. Without any fries. His walk was unusually wobbly, and his eyes even more empty and unfocused than they had been. Miss Mushroom asked him if he couldn't find the fries. It took him a while to answer.

"No ... But there is an ... awesome smell inside that room dude."

Miss Mushroom grew concerned and sent one of her stallions went to see what was wrong. He only peeked his head inside the pantry door before pulling back with a rather worried look on his face.

“Gas! We got a leakage over here!”

Miss mushroom spit out the light-stick and started yelling at the other staff members.

“Okay everypony! Grab a face mask and secure that leak! And don't bring any light sources with you in there, or the only thing that gets well done this Hearth's Warming Eve will be us! And somepony get this guy to the infirmary for potential gas poisoning!”

The kitchen quickly emptied of staff as everypony wearing a white coat donned a face mask and headed into the pantry. and the purple stallion was quickly led away by a pair of nurses.

As they left. Marrow suddenly crawled out from under the stove.

“And there you go.” She said. “Now you be able to cook anything. Just turn on the gas and wait for a moment before igniting it, to make sure the flame has something to take hold on.”

She twisted and pulled on all the knobs on the stove. Then held her hoof over the plates, as if checking something.

“There you go. I would use the plate furthest in. it always takes the most heat anyway.”

Sweetie looked at the light-stick. Standing on top right next to her.

“But miss … chef...” (she refrained from saying “Mushroom” sine that was probably not her real name) “. She said that only she should...”

But Marrow had already turned her back and walked over to her own station.

“Oh come on." She said "Who knows how long till they find the leak? She said without turning her head around. ”And didn't you say you were hungry? I can hear your belly roar from here. You saw how the light-stick works. Just lean over and bite the button. Just make sure the gas has time to grow first.”

Sweetie looked back at her stove. There was a hissing sound emanating from all four plates on the stove. And the air above them had started to shimmer.
The smell of gas assaulted Sweeties nostrils. She held a hoof over the plate, into that shimmering air, but could not feel anything.

Silly...Of course she could not.

She removed the plastic glove and the sock from her left, undamaged hoof, and turned on a few sensors.
She could feel the flow of gas coming out quite steady from all the plates. She looked down on the knobs. All of them were set to full.

She looked over at Marrow. But she had her head turned away. Currently leaning over her own bench with both forehooves pressed against her forehead. As if something would burst out from it is she didn't press hard enough.

Sweetie looked over at all the other inmates. But none of them seemed like they would be willing (or able) to help her.

She looked down to the light-stick again... but it was gone!

A quick look around and she found Screwloose, happily wagging her tail. And chewing on a black plastic stick.

Cardiac's words about not playing fetch returned to her ears. Sweetie threw a panicking look at the Pantry door. What would Miss Mushroom say?

“Screwloose … give me that.” She whispered.

She climbed down from her stool and took a step towards Screwloose. But the mare jumped back from her, a big smile spreading across her face as she gagged the stick in her mouth, clearly she was in a playing mood.

“Screwloose … come here!” Sweetie whispered between her teeth.

She reached out to grab the light-stick. But Screwloose jumped back from her and started to run back and forth through the kitchen.

“Screw... Please! No! They are gonna lock you away!”

Sweetie knew she could not chase after Screwloose. That might prompt the mare to run out of the kitchen. Instead she stood still, and when begging did not work. She finally yelled as loud as she dared.

"Scrweloose!"

Finally Screwloose released the Light-stick. Unfortunately in her own ideas of laying fetch. She swung her head threw the light-stick at Sweetie. Sweetie tried to catch it mid air. But it bounced off her hooves. Then it bounced of the stove, and then it took a nose dive down into the fryer batter.

Sweetie panicked. For the sake of Screwloose, she had to retrieve that light-stick before Miss Mushroom returned.

Without thinking, she put her left hoof down into the cooking hot batter, subconsciously disabling her sensors the moment her hoof touched the greasy fluid. There was a rigid, fizzling sound as Sweeties leg disappeared down into the boiling fluid. and before her hoof made contact with the bottom she had grease up to her shoulder. She closed her hoof and and miraculously managed to grab the light-stick, and pull it up from the bottom on her first try. A foul smell of burned flesh assaulted her nose. Her left foreleg was completely covered in greasy fryer batter. And so was the light stick.

She had to wash the light-stick off quickly. She pulled the sock and the glove back over her greasy leg, and ruched over to the washing sink. Quickly she though. Quickly before Miss grumpy Mushroom comes back. Quickly before the batter hardens.

She quickly washed off the light-stick. Grabbed a towel and wiped it off as she ran back to her station.

She had just put it back were it had been, when Miss Mushroom an the others came out from the pantry.

Miss mushroom walked over to Sweetie and grabbed the light-stick. She leaned in over the stove. But then her nostrils flared, and she sniffed disapprovingly.
Sweetie hid her left forehoof behind her back. But the chef did not turn her head towards her. Rather, she looked back down on the knobs, and shouted in an even more disapproving tone.

“FULL THROTTLE!? Are you trying to blow us all sky high?”

Sweetie tried to defend herself.

“But she said … ”

She pointed over to were the yellow mare had been. But she was no where to be seen.
In her place was Screwloose. Crouched down into the hatch underneath the stove. The stove itself saw on, and the flames shooting out of the plates reached halfway up the pots on them. Pots that were boiling so hard that the water inside was jumping out over the edge. A hissing sound filled the air. Like when a teapot on the stove is signaling its ready and about to burst.

But there were no teapots on the stove. The hissing sound was coming from below the catch, that Screwloose had now shoved her head into.

Miss Mushroom also looked over and saw the mare tugging and pulling.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

At that moment. Screwloose pulled out from underneath the stove. A gas canister clenched between her yaws by the valve.

As she swung the canister away from the stove. The tip of the vale swung past the dying flames from the plates. And the stream of hissing gas was instantly transformed into a roaring stream of fire. Screwloose swung the canister around, spewing flames like a dragon. Several ponies jumped and ducked for their lives as the flamed passed dangerously near them.

“SHE'S CRAZY!”

“She's gonna kill us all!”

“Screwloose, STOP!”

Still Screwloose refused to let go of the canister. She wrapped her forelegs around the canister and twisted her head. Closing the valve she had in hr teeth, and making the fire disappear.

The next second, a pair of caretakers wielding fire extinguisher ruched in, and sprayed Screwloose down with white foam. Another broad stallion tackled the foam-covered mare to the floor while a forth pried the gas-canister from her hooves.

After a minute of wrestling in the foam, the stallions emerged with the defeated mare between them. Wrapped in a restraining jacket.

The words that Miss Mushroom spoke were not meant for ears as young as Sweetie's. The curses and insults washed over Screwloose like a storm.

“I told you! One screw up! ONE! And you decide to screw up spectacularly!”

Screwloose just hung her head in utter defeat. Her sad heavy eyes met with Sweetie's only once as they more or less dragged her away. Her look seemed to carry a pleading call for help.

Sweetie was speechless. She did not know what she could say or do. She did not why Screwloose had suddenly tried to light the kitchen on fire. She only knew that there was one mare who was suppose to man that stove.

But Sweeties words where unheard. As soon as Screwloose was out the door, Miss Mushroom turned to her.

***

Miss Mushroom scolded Sweetie for her improper use of a gas driven stove. The risk of explosion and dangers surrounding easily lit gas. And for not keeping that crazy mare under control.

The gas was soon vented out through the chimney. And Sweetie could resume her cooking. She was both angry and sad. She had been scolded for something that wasn't her fault. And the real culprit had disappeared, saying nothing about the dangers of letting the gas flow unchecked out of the stove.

She was so angry, she was sure one would be able to cook a meal on her head from the pressure alone. And she was even hungrier now that even more time had been spilled before she could resume cooking.
To make up for lost time she increased the heat by tree times the recommended setting. That way it should me done tree times as fast.

Her feeling made her forget about the horrid smell coming from her leg. It was soon drowned out by strong spices and smoke, as the pots on the stove boiled to full effect.

The heat made Sweetie sweat. And she could feel the plaster loosen under her headgear's.

Unfortunately. Her cooking skills did not impress Miss Mushroom. And as it turned out Sweetie had burned most of her food into something that resembled black crisps. Miss Mushroom did not think they looked edible. And the color on her face after tasting one did not change her opinion.

“My dad always liked it.” She said in defense of her cooking.

“They probably just say that.”

-:: Processing ::-

“You mean … they lied?”

-:: Crying sequence initiated ::-

Sweetie fought to hold back the tears. Somehow that one notion had stung worse than imaginable.

"They ... can't be that bad"

"have you ever tasted them yourself?"

"No."

Sweetie put the black crisp in her mouth. And her taste analysis labeled it as "coal." Her heart sank even lower. Miss Mushroom had stabbed her right in the pride. It was something Sweetie didn't think she had any left of. But apparently being reminded of her own awfulness stung more than she could have imagined.

It did not get better when the frying iron caught fire.

“How did you manage to make the soup flammable?! And further more. Why were you using a frying pan to make soup?!”

The final straw for Miss Mushroom was when they opened the stove. What was suppose to be some form of sufflé had become some kind of smoldering black tar. The black smoke that came billowing out of the oven laid on so thick it clothed Sweetie's vision. She tripped and fell off the chair she was standing on, accidentally knocking the still flaming frying pan into the fryer batter - Which also caught fire. A few moments later the fire alarm started. And in a few more moments the kitchen became disorganized.

“That's it! Get out of my kitchen!”

Ponies ran back and forth, carrying flame extinguishers and wondering if they should evacuate. Sweetie ran away between the legs of these ponies and bolted away to her room with tears in her eyes. She had completely forgotten her hunger. The last thing she heard from Miss Mushroom mean mouth was her yelling orders left and right as she got her hooves full trying to calm everypony down, and direct somepony to put out the flames on the fryer, and throw that dangerous fluid away.

“And can somepony get that fire alarm shut off!”

***

If you want something done. You have to do it yourself. That's what Miss Mushroom thought as she walked into the back of the pantry. At the end of the big storage area there was a secluded door that led to a power room, were the big switch for the fire alarm sat.

Sparks were sent flying out of the lever as she pulled it. The ringing sound stopped, but so did the lights.

Great. Must be another fuse.

She pulled up a light-stick from her pocket, and bit on the button. This one produces a small flame at the short end of the stick. She had to replace her old one, as it had for some reason stopped working.

She had told Marrow to throw it away, along with all the waste products that little filly had created. Especially that flammable meal. She had still no idea how one could make cooking oil burn. But that little mare had found a way. A way to ruin a dinner more spectacular than she had even seen.

So maybe she had been a little hard on the filly. Still. Foals needed to be taught the hard truth sometimes.

As she walked back. Her eyes steeped over the gas canister that were stored here in the back. The tiny flame from her light stick was reflected in their chrome. She was careful not to go near them with an open flame. She did not want any more incidents after today.
She counted four canisters missing. At this rate they were gonna run out long before Hearth's Warming Eve.

Four?

She recounted. There had been the one used to refuel the filly's stove. One to relapse the one that the crazy mare had turned into a flamethrower. And One that had been leaking in here earlier, the one that purple stallion from group C no doubt opened up and started sniffing ... and ... and ...

No. There should not be four canisters missing. Where had the last one gone? Celestia forbid it was that kleptomaniac Soylent had taken it! If so, she was gonna have a talk with her sister Sully, to have that mare thrown into isolation!

***

Marrow pushed the dining cart down the hallway as the lights went out.
She wanted to say "just as planned", but that would have been a lie. Nothing had gone as planned. That little demon had a way of disrupting everything. It knew what she was up to. It had to. How else would you explain that it went to the kitchen? Because it was hungry?

Marrow twitched. What a mockery that had been. That little monster couldn't feel hunger. It was her hunger it felt. Her recording of hunger playing in its systems.

She had nearly lost it when the thing showed up in the kitchen, and it had nearly thrown a wrench into her plans. But she had managed to play cool, and had actually been provided with an unexpected and unique chance to rid herself of that menace. To prove what that little demon really was to everypony. Fate had played into her hooves by making the stoves run out. Of course they asked her to change the canisters. She had been doing it for years. Her skill with machinery had not dwindled. And the skills she had acquired putting that demon together - she would now use to destroy it.

But she had not counted on the mad mare, whom the little demon had snared into becoming her bodyguard. And to mock her the demon had not even reacted as she burned her own hoof off.

Then her main plan had been ruined as the madmare sniffed out her ticking timebomb. At least she had taken the blame for the leaking gas-canister. And at least the distraction had served a purpose, Marrow thought as she pushed the dining cart, making sure the blanket on the cart reached all the way down to the wheels, concealing the main dish underneath.

She pulled up a light-stick from under the sheet, put it in her mouth, and ignited it. She was supposed to throw it away. But some simple tinkering had brought it back to working condition. She used it to ignite bowls of sticky, greasy, easily ignited batter. Another thing she was supposed to throw away.

Well, she was about to trow it away right now.

She put some of the flammable grease in every trash can she passed. It was almost like a symbol of how awful the food was here at the best of times.

The darkness in the hallways would hide the smoke that rose from the trashcan. And the fire alarm would not start. The little demon's own inability to cook would bake the way for its own demise by triggering the alarm the first time. And once that thing had been shut off. It would not come on again. Marrow had made sure of that.

And once she was done serving these appetizers. She would move on to the main course. A course cooked for one filly, and one filly alone.

***

Blood fell like tears in Sweeties room. The sink in her bathroom had been painted red with meat-chunks and blood.

Once Sweetie returned to her room, she had made a grim discovery when she tried to remove her socks.
The batter from the fryer did not just smell bad. It had gotten stuck between her leg and her socks. End the two had merged together. The thin plastic glove over her sock had almost melted from the heat of the batter, and become stuck to her left leg like glue.

The smell of burnt fabric and flesh mixed with melted plastic was horrible. And Sweetie knew she had to remove it. To clean herself up, less somepony else were gonna do it.

She managed to roll down the upper part of the combined glove and plastic glove. And found that the flesh was horribly red-burned. The fur was all but missing, and it looked like the skin had melted and reformed with the fabric and batter into a bizarre pattern. the substances had merged together so bad sweetie could not remove her sock any further. What little skin she did see had a few bubbles and veins, which had swelled up on the red surface and pulsated with a beating rhythm. It made sweeties Belly turn over just to look at it.

She had to get rid of it. There was no way she could stand having that disgusting mess as part of her body

In desperation she took the scalpel from the stash behind the mirror, and started cutting in order to remove the pieces of fabric that had gotten stuck to her skin. Just to remove the worst of the damage. Cut off the burned, black flesh, and those nasty blobs, and the horrible deformed skin-pattern. Then she would be able to heal much better. (Right?)

Blood and pieces of meat painted the sick red as Sweetie removed piece after piece of herself. But no matter how far down she got down her leg. The sock did not loosen up. Nor did the skin look any better. It only got worse.

As she cut, she realized that she could not reconnect with the sensors in her leg. where they had previously just been in standby mode - They were now all offline. And she that she could not turn them back online. Not that she wanted to be able to feel what her horribly burnt and mangled leg would feel like. But without the sensors she could recieve no data on her skin at all. She could not feel the connection between the sensor and the nerve-cluster. It was as if...

She looked over on her other leg, where the skin hung as loose as the sleeve of a sweater. A sleeve she had rolled up to her shoulder, and torn from the seams of nerve clusters . She could not get those sensors to come back online either.

Had she damaged herself so bad that the nerve clusters had separated from their sensors!?

A new wave of horror washed over her. Without her sensors - without her nerve-clusters - she would lose all contact to her skin. And her skin was the only thing that let her feel the world around her. Let her feel the warm embrace of a pony's hug. Let her feel the wind on her face and the grass under her hooves, and the substance off every surface she touched. Let her feel the comb through her hair.

If she lost her skin... She lost one of her senses.

What was she suppose to then? How were she gonna reconnect the skin to her sensors?

Sweetie grabbed the last part of her sock and pulled. Despite not being more than a fried patch on the bottom of her hoof it refused to let go. Sweetie pulled a little harder, And with a wet, tearing sound, the last of the fabric slid off. Along with the remaining, cooked skin on her fetlock.

Sweetie stood stunned. Staring at the blank metal of her left hoof. The remains of the sock laid in the bottom of the sink, almost indistinguishable from the blood, fat, and biomass. It took her a while to proses that her skin must have been so cooked that the meat just slid off the metal.

Now the metal and gears were exposed on both her hooves. What was she supposed to do now? would the skin grow back on its own? Were she just gonna have to wait until then?

No. She had once regrown her skin. By drinking a health potion.

She dug through the hole in the wall looking for a little red bottle (Or a big bottle). But found nothing but an old restraint jacket. It was almost like the hole in the wall was taunting her with a probable future.

She used the scalpel to cut up the sleeves. Making her able to wear it like a normal shirt. The jacket was still several sizes to big for her, but the sleeves were long enough to cover her forelegs down to the hooves. The hooves she had to hide by bandaging herself up.

She looked into the mirror again.

Now she looked like a truly psychotic inmate. In between the baggy restraint jacket, the out of place bandana below her ruined mane, and hooves covered in bandages ... Just who was she trying to fool? Just how much clothes were she gonna have to end up wearing to cover the damage she had done to herself?! She might as well have no skin left. There was noting left of the old Sweetie anyway! It was a stranger looking back at her from the mirror. A stranger that looked like shit.

And she smelled like it to. A pungent smell stung her in the nose as several flavors hit her nostrils at once.

-:: Smell analysis // Batter // Cooking oil // Gas ::-

Gas? Had she been standing to close to the stove for to long?

No... It was not she who smelled like that.

The smell was coming from elsewhere. She followed her nose and began crawling closer and closer to the floor. Down to the door gap under the door. The smell was leaking in from the sleeping room and into the bathroom.

Sweetie put her ear to the door. There was a small hissing sound coming from somewhere far away.

Then there was a sound of something like a lighter being ignited

Then Sweetie's world exploded.

Chapter 25. Glimmer of Life

The door to the small hut flew open, and a small herd of sour, tired, cold, and very angry ponies entered the confined living space. Ironically, the owner of the place was currently being carried inside on the back of a broad blue caretaker.

The black stallion had a huge lump on his forehead where Madame Macadam had punched him. Her trick of shape-shifting into one of his own clay-pony Golems had proven effective for getting close and knocking him out. Nurse Sully had placed a moonstone ring on his horn that would restrain his magic. And Twilight had conjured up some rope to tie him up with.

After that it had been a simple matter of getting him to tell them where he lived.
The Cottage was concealed behind a large shrubbery - under the roots of a big tree. But to call it a cottage would be a simultaneous insult to Zecora, Fluttershy, and everypony else who had made their home in the natural little cubbyholes of the world.

Because those actually took care of her home.

This place was a dump. Huge cracks dotted the loose floorboards, with weed growing in from the dirt below. Filth and mold on covered the walls and windows. The air itself smelled damp and rotten. There was such a thing as living close to nature, and then there was just neglect of all hygiene and comfort.

There was not much in the way of furniture either. The sole room housed but a table and a few stools. A fire was burning underneath a cauldron, with no visible way for the smoke to exit, it instead filled the hut with a steam of mist and soot that only added to the bad air.
Twilight could already feel herself beginning to sweat like she was in a sauna. She had to cast a spell to clear the air and make the temperature inside manageable.

The black stallion was dropped pretty hamphazardly on the floor. As more and more ponies pressed themselves into the small space.

Necro was not the only one being carried. Rarity was also being given a ride on the back of a big brown lumberjack.

The woodcutter (who during the very sketchy introductions, had introduced himself as Mr Tree Thrunks) had appeared like a saint from above in tow with Rarity's parents. The three having teemed up after the Belle's had come knocking at his door.
Apparently they had not been the first to come knocking.

"... I gave him a piece of my mind. And a piece of my hoof!" Thrunks said as he shook his right hoof. "And I told him what I thought. about parents who leave their kids out in the woods like that. Not a few minutes later some pegasus fella comes and starts blabbering on about Celestias graze and what have you not, and said it was of some divide importance that they find that little miss."

Did he say what he wanted to do with her? "Did they tell you about Sweetie, About her true nature."

"He did. and he said right to my face that he needed to send her into the everafter. So I gave him a piece of my other hoof and chased him of ma property. I did not believe a single word about that little miss being, mechanic and what have you not. But ma boy told me. Told me shed been hiding her computer bits under her socks or something."

Dr Cardiac had been trying to get the story straight about what had happened and the three new auditions to this 'search and rescue party' But only Thrunks was eager to talk and listen as he very carefully and gently put Rarity down on a stool next to the table, since there was no bed to put her down on (Seriously - Where did this black stallion even sleep?). Her parents only had eyes and ears for their disstraughted daughter.

"Rarity! Darling dearest! Please say something!"

Rarity had all but shut down. Despite recovering from her blow to the head. She had entered an almost catatonic state.

Her hair had now lost all traces of its former glory. Every curl had been torn down to a dripping mess that hung in wet, dripping tendrils covered in dust gravel and dirt. The colors seemed to have left her body. The harsh conditions had nibbled away at her former grace until nothing remained but a ghostly pale figure. She had not eaten or slept properly in days and the exhaustion was taking its tole on her.
Cracks had appeared on her hooves. Her cheeks had begun to sink in and her ribs was starting to show.
(Nurse sully looked healthy by comparison).
But the worst part was her eyes. They were no longer swollen red and dripping with tears. They were not anything. The spark that had always been there had dimmed out and faded. The massive black rings around her eyes now framed an emptiness that it hurt to look at.

Both her parents were on her trying to snap her out of it, but Rarity only gave them a lifeless stare.
A knot was being tied out of Twilight's heart at the sight of it. She had not had the strength to tell them about Sweeties message.
Could these two really have inserted a control program in their daughters head? Sweetie certainly seemed to think so. and now, so did Rarity.

Everypony was up to something. Screwloose was whimpering at Rarity's hooves. Stroking herself at the mare and licking her, trying to get a reaction. Dr Cardiac was busy trying to get the story straight for Mr Thrunks.

Sully was busy keeping an eye on Dr Morbious and Madame Macadame (Or Dr Heartache, Or whatever her name was). She was levitating a bunch of needles that she threatened to use as weapons if any of them tried anything. and one needle was rolling back and forth over her lip.
The changeling looked too shaken up to fight back. Morbious looked like he would welcome a few needles in his already mangled body, given the way he was grinning with a smile full of missing teeth. The eye that was not swollen shut looked kept staring at the way that caretaker Brick was restraining Necro, probably wishing for a similar treatment.

The black stallion was certainty something too look at. It was most unusual for a woodland pony to be dressing like the director of a circus. Twilight suspected that it was the only suit he had. It would explain why it was so torn. (Just walking through the thorny bushes that covered the entrance to this place would rip his clothes apart eventually - Unless he used his earth magic, or golems to bend it out of the way.)

His top hat still clung to his head only because his horn was hooking it in place through a hole in the brim.

The cooperative Morbious, as well as the Belles had been able to identify him as Necro. Another associate from the dark past of the Belles. Another scientist gone mad.

Twilight could only shake her head. Why was this? Why had every single pony who worked at that horrible place gone completely - as Pinkie would put it - coco in the loco.

Even with ropes tied around his fetlocks, Necro continued to be an nuisance. ever since coming too he had been trying to kick and wriggle his way to freedom, all the while screaming incoherently about being the guardian of this forest. Only the much heavier earth pony held him in an unbreakable grip. Sully would have offered to sedate the mad pony into a coma, but she had as of late been running low on supplies after distributing painkilling doses to those who needed it. Besides - Brick was curently in the middle of conducting an interrogation. The nice and easy-going Prick with his bad jokes was gone, He was now a tired and angry stallion who demanded answers.

"Why did you attack us!" Brick screamed in Necros ear.

"I am the guardian of this forests, And I will defend my home from any intruders! You are intruding on my land!" Necro spat
"Furthermore, you are helping that little ... thing! that Unnatural abomination!"

"Never mind that! How did you even find us!"

“I have trained years to become one with my land. I know when someone steps into it!” Necro spat.

"YOUR LAND!?" Mr Thrunks roared. "My family has cared for these woods far longer than you have, Upstart!"

"Is that true miss Sparkle." Brick asked "Can he sense us like that?"

"Yes." Twilight said. "There is a few techniques that allows you to extend your magic energy into the earth, letting you sense it through seismic activity. That way anypony stepping on it would appear on his mental radar. Alternatively he could simply have left magical beacons that alerted if anypony entered the area. "

"Like those clay-ponies, they were like a automated alarm system." Sully confirmed.

"Hold on! Thrunk's roared Hold on! Are you telling me this creep is responsible for running my sawmill out of business!?"

"The forest is a sacred sanctum and not some resource for you to enterprise on! " Necro yelled back. "Somepony had to rise to the task of defending her from greedy cooperation like you!"

"GREEDY!?" Thrunks roared so loud that the walls shook. "I'm barely able to put food on the table for me and ma Boy! And you're calling me greedy for wanting to provide for my family and the ponies who work for me! You, who tried to claim this here whole woods for yourself!"

"And yet you cared for that little machine monstrosity! Shows that your heart is as rusty as your sawblades! It shows that you care more for machines than for nature!"

Thrunk's nostrils flared. The big brown stallion looked like he wanted to pound Necro into the ground. But he kept his control.

"I do not know anything about her being no robot. But I do know that that little gal saved ma boy. And for that I don't care what she is. I ow her my eternal gratitude."

"Do you hear that, Rarity darling? Our little girl is a hero." Rarity father laughed, Trying to get some kind of response from his daughter.

Rarity just answered him with a blackened stare. her energies were spent. She had thought so hard to save her little sister. Only to have Sweetie herself deny her sisterhood when they finally caught up. The psychological strain had simply been to much for her.
Her parents looked like they were about to snap like twigs themselves. They had already lost one daughter, and not the other was on the way down the mental drain. The despair hung so thickly in the air that you could taste it - Particulary if you were a changeling, Which was shy Madam Macadame had to role over and puke again.

"But Twilight!" Mrs Belle cut in "Cant you use that seismic magic and tell us where our daughter is!"

The desperation was clear in her voice.

"Its ... Not that easy." Twilight protested. "I'm not exactly trained in seismic sensing. There has got to be hundreds of creatures running around the woods - I wont be able to tell Sweetie from a squirrel.

"But haven't all the creatures gone to hibernate at this point?"

"- But they are still in touch with the ground - not to mention all the trees and plants and other seismic activity going on underground as the earth shifts. And If Sweetie is still in the water I wont be able to sense a thing, and... "

Necro started laughing.

"Why don't you stop dancing around the issue and tell them. You cant find her! Because no matter how strong of a magician you are, You can't sense her aura!"

Twilight Swallowed.

"Aura? What does aura have to do with anything!?" Mr Belle asked.

"The main way of separating a pony from everything else in your seismic sense is by their ... Magic." Twilight bit her lip when she said it.

There was a silent moment as realization rolled over all of their faces.

Necro started giggling again.

"If you are so good at magic as you say you are. Don't you find it odd that you never sensed anything wrong with that ... thing!"

“I don't delve in to touch other ponies aura at a regular basis!" Twilight shouted "That's just rude! "It would be like going around poking every one with a stick!”

"Maybe - But you have to admit that it comes in dandy handy when you need to track somepony down. Just one locator spell and you can point at any map and tell where anypony is. Except, of course ... When something doesn't have an aura. HA! For a powerful magician you are sure pretty blind!"

Necro laughed before Brick twisted his leg in a way that made him gasp in pain.

Twilight lowered her head. She had to admit that the mad stallion was right.

“I never sensed anything wrong with Sweetie Bell. I never imaged It would be because I couldn’t sense anything from her at all. Everything magical gives of a magic aura that other magicians can sense if they look for it, if they have the training or the spell. In some cases, if the source is strong enough its actually difficult even for a weaker magician to ignore. In reverse its harder for a strong magician to sense a weak one. I ... I simply assumed Sweeties magic aura was to weak for me to notice. But now i think its more because she has an aura i can't sense.”

“She doesn’t have an aura” Necro shouted "She does not have any magic! This just proves that she isn’t natural. She has no place in this world! My Clay Ponies are more alive than her! for they are made of dirt!”

“Silence!”

Brick tightened his grip on Necro. But through the pain of the restraint Necro kept on bragging about how much better he was than Twilight.

“This is why you hasn’t found that little monster yet! Your tracking spells can't work if they have nothing to home in on!”

“Be quiet!”

Brick pressed down on Necro so hard his chin hit the floor. His hat almost bounced off his head. Only the moonstone ring upon his horn prevented it from falling off completely.

Screwloose decides she should aid brick, and bit down on Necro's tail. The stallion screamed as the mad mare started Pulling and tugging at his rear limb. Dr Cardiac tried to pull her off. But the mad mare would not let go.

The tail however - did.

With the sound of a cork being unplugged from a bottleneck - the red extension of pony hair ended up limp in Screwlooses mouth, as she and Cardiac stumbled backwards into the nearest wall.

"Well ... You know they say mad people are 'falling apart'." Brick said.

Nopony called him a prick. They were all to busy staring an the naked tail stump. Though, naked was the wrong word - while not a single Red straw covered the rear stump. It was covered in the same short black fur that covered the rest of Necro's body. That - and a whole lot of dried glue.

Twilight took the red tail from Screwloose, and exterminated the end. There was a hole- Big enough to fit over the tailbone. The insides covered in more old glue.

The tail was fake.

"So you use prosthetic tails to cover up your baldness." Brick taunted.

"S... shut up!" Said Necro. The whole situation had suddenly made him very quiet.

"What? Didn't you have enough for a wig too?" Brick continued.

"Of course he doesn't" Said Morbious, Grinning with a mouth full of missing teeth. "His original wig burned up in the great fire."

Brick teasingly flicked his hoof at Necro's hat. Causing it to swing around on his horn to hang down over his face.

"Its not baldness" Twilight began. "Its a rare condition when the mane and tail only sprouts the same short hairs that covers our bodies called ..."

Before she could pronounce the over complicated medical name for this condition, she noticed sticking out of the back of Necro's head.
Everypony else noticed it too. Some of them gasped for air. Brick even let go of Necro to stumble back.

It was an obscenely large scar that covered most of the back of the black stallions scalp. Framing in what looked like some form coin slot out of zinc or some other gleaming metal. Whatever it was, this rectangular metal plate was attached to the cranium by the way of screws. and causing some kind of infection-reaction, judging by the discolored skin and scar tissue that surrounded it.

In the center of this plate was a wide rectangular slot. And from that slot, A round blue crystal was sticking out.

Twilight gasped for air, this stallion had a blue disk in his head. Three quarters inserted into that coin slot, sticking out just enough for one to be able to grab it with a hoof. And there was a light coming from it. So faith that it was barely notable. But looking closely, Twilight could see some faint sparks jumping around inside the crystal.

The thing was active!

A part of Twilight wanted to throw up. If that crystal was as bid as the other disks it would reach all the way into the brain.
Specifically the Occipital Lobe, responsible for visual memories, located in the back of the brain.
Another part of her. The scientist, was curious beyond belief.

She reached out and touched the thing with her magic. She tried to analyze it. Get some kind of feeling from whatever magic was at work here. But she came up empty hoofed, despite visible evidence of activity. Despite that the thing was not hooked up any electronic souses. Or was it? No. This stallion could not be a Robot. It went against everything.

"What are you doing back there!" Necro screamed and began to flail around. Brick and Trunks had to work together to hold him down.
They pinned him on his belly as Twilight used her magic to hold his head still, trying to get a better look.

“It looks just like the disk that was in poor Screwloose's head” Said Dr Cardiac, having taken interest.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Necro screamed, and started to wriggle around more than ever.

"Fassssinating..."

The hissing voice of Dr Morbious leaned in closer - Despite sully stabbing him with her needles.

"You still use those recording devises, Necro?" He asked "What are you even recording out here in these woods?"

"Recording devises?" Twilight asked, then gasped as a theory hit her. "Is this how you extracted data to put in Sweetie Belle?"

"Yessss, and no. These particular devises were used to record our research. Dr Neurosa insisted that instead that in order to safeguard our research, we should put all future information on these little disks. that way - in the event we were found out, nopony would know how to access the information. You see - any neurological activity that passes through the crystals inner circuitry will be copied onto it. Specifically everything we see and hear."

"Once they might have been!" Necro shouted, "But with time we discovered that these disk also enhances neurological energy. That's right little foal! Our brains have been upgraded! Our genius enhanced! Our thought process boosted. And out magic increased!"

"Just like Screwloose!" Dr Cardiac said in shock. "You mean, somepony used her, as a prototype!?"

Twilight stared at Morbious.

"You are telling me that you all have these things in your heads?!"

"Not all the time" Morbious smiled "They were designed for easy removal."

Twilight rose from Necro's back, and grabbed Morbious by the neck. She bent down his head and magically scooped away the green mane from his neck. There, indeed. She found a very similar, thought empty, coin-slot.

The same thing was true for Madame Macadame. Despite having turned back to her gypsy from, she still carried the coin-slot under her mane. Twilight suspected the thing remained a constant no matter which from she took.

She looked at the empty coin slot at the back of Morbious's head. Then back to Necro. She magically grabbed the blue disk in his neck, and pulled it out. (The thing actually produced a sound similar to that of a cash register when it was removed.)

Necro immediately started screaming

”NO! MY MAGIC! GIVE ME BACK MY MAGIC!”

Twilight watched the blue disk closely, the energy inside it faded away the instant she had pulled it out of the black stallions scull.
A wave of terror gripped her, and she almost dropped the disk out of fear.

"But these things grow!" Twilight said. "Sweeties brain grew from one of these crystals merging with her undeveloped brain mass! And you willingly put these things in your heads!"

"They - What?" Said Madame Macadam, and grabbed her head. "Nopony told me!"

Even Necro looked a little surprised.

By Celestia, How much did your boss hide from you!?

The only pony who didn't seem surprised was Morbious, with his ever frozen smile.

"That's why we have these little slots." He said, and tapped his neck. "They not only provide easy access for out 'recording tape' They also protect us from its unexplained influence. Because - In case you did not noticed - Sweeties cybercore did not continue to grow past the brain. The rest of her body was not consumed by the metamorphosis. Neurosa ensured us of that."

Twilight was not willing to take his word for it. She had a hunch and a theory that needed exploring. She lit up her horn - and let the X-ray spell wash over Morbious head, Specifically his neck.

She wished she had been wrong.

Around the coin sloth appeared a rim of crystallized brain matter. Like rime-frost upon oatmeal left out in the snow. And from the rim, thin trails 'frozen' brain matter extended out over the back of his gray matter, like cracks in the glass after somepony had rammed a nail into it. (which kind of was a fitting metaphor for the implant itself.)

Twilight let the X ray fall on Madam Macadam. It wasn’t as bad for her but you could still see the traces of crystallization on the brain matter. Even though the changeling had taken the form of a pony, the frosting upon her brain was visible.

Necro by far had the worst damage. From the coin sloth in the back of his head extended thicker tendrils that rehashed as far as halfway across his brain. Particularly one, that journeyed across the midriff of his brain halves, all the way to his forehead, and then up through the nasty crack that almost reached the tip of his horn.

Twilight had thought the pony suffered from some kind of horn rot disease due to his less than bacteria free lifestyle. But it seemed the reason for his pain was something far different.

Macadame did not take kindly to the news. She grabbed her head and cried out in despair.

"I'm .... I'm .... BRAIN DAMAGED!"

The shock was so great that her chosen shape shattered, and she reverted back to her true insectoid like form.
Rarity's parents. Who had never seen Macadam's true from, were terrified, and the terror only made the changeling feel sicker.

"How fassssscinating" Morbious mumbled, seeming undisturbed by the news "I wonder if my brain will eventually turn into a cybercore?"

"No! NO! you are lying" Necro shouted "I am a guardian of the forest! I am a fiend of all things unnatural - I am not made up of parts and pieces like that Little monstrosity!"

"How? HOW!?" Madame cried. "She promised me there would be no side effects! There wasn't even any magical radiation coming from these things. how can something un-magical transform tissue like this!"

How indeed? Twilight was trying to think. But the surrounding noise was to high.

"How could you be so stupid as to put untested equipment in your most vital organ" Nurce sully said with a deadpanned facehoof.
"I know the line between genius and madness is thins as a spiders thread, But cheese!"

"Science requires sacrifices. And we needed them to record our experiments." Morbious said with a casual shrug.

"But these things are not mere recording devices." Twilight said. "Sweetie is made up of these."

"She is made up of a lot of things. Circuitry crystals and processor crystals, not to mention all the pain simulation crystals and artificial organ simulator crystals - In the end, they are all some form of recording devises. Hard drives that we stored different kinds of energies and information on."

"Please! Don't talk about our daughter like she is some mere storage unit!" Mr and Mrs Belle pleaded.

”She isn't a Pony" Necro shouted."She is just parts and Pieces. Pull Out her processor and she stops functioning!”

Twilight gritted her teeth.

“OF COURSE! Pull the brain out of a pony and that pony isn't going to function either!”

She was about to throw the blue disk at Necro´s head. But stopped mid trow as a thought came to her.

“Brain … Brainwaves ...”

"What is the brain if not the biggest storage unit we have - Of memories and emotions?"

Lost in thought she was able to ignore Necro screaming that his Goulems worked without brains and that he wished he was a Golem. Nurse Sully was about to shove a needle up the raving stallions rear, when twilight stopped her.

“Necro... What did you say that this does?” She asked, as she waved the crystal I front of his face.

“IT STRENGTHENS MY MAGIC.”

Twilight didn't understand. There was nothing magical about the disk. No magical radiation that could amplify magic power. And even if it was, the discs couldn't be read by a organic mind.

”But how?” She asked

”It strengthens the brainwaves – and through that it strengthens my magic. Magic originates in the brain – so the smarter you are the stronger your magic becomes.”

Twilight had to restrain herself from going on a lecture about how intelligence does not equal raw magic power. Where did this guy get that from? Role playing games?

“Brainwaves...”

She looked at Dr Cardiac and Screwloose.

"Why did you say somepony put one of these things in your patients brain"

"I thought..." Cardiac stammered "I always thought that somepony had tried to cure her mental illness through some form of shock therapy. Maybe even make her smarter ... By rewriting the synapses."

Twilight could feel her own brain wrinkle as she thought about what Dr Cardiac had said about Brainwaves and synapses. About how these disks had been used on Screwloose to supposedly amplify brainwaves, And how they now was suppose to store data and energy.

She could almost feel the electrical signals jump between her brainless as a metaphorical lightbulb ignited in her mind.

She was onto something here.

"Madame Macadam! Alchemist! I need to preform a test, and I need your help!"

Twilight turned and looked between Morbious and Sully, then had to look under the table, where Madam Macadam had crawled into a fetal position. the changeling was now shaking like mad.

“Despair... So much despair... Not Tasty” she mumbled before trowing up.

It was true. The group was succumbing to despair. Especially Rarity.

It was devastating to see her friend so devastated. She was hanging on by her last thread.

She was suppose to Be their leader! She had to give them hope. She had to help her friend. She had to make her friend believe again.
But to do that - she first needed to figure out what it was she was looking at. This blue disk.

Twilight walked up to, and started shaking the changeling.

“Madame. Listen to me. I need your help. And when we succeed you can feed on all the hope we can give you. Okay?”

The channeling locked up at her. Twilight must have beamed self confidence enough, for the shaking subsided.

“What do you need from me.” she asked.

“I need you to repeat the transmutation you where going to preform om Sweetie Bell.”

The changeling wanted to throw up again. But Twilight pulled her up from under the table.

***

A transmutation circle was drawn in the middle of the room. In its center, a few blue disks were placed together with a piece of wood and a metal stove from the cauldron, as well as a few other items of different materials found around the house. Twilight instructed her that she should try to transmute the various items by channel the transmutative energy threw the blue crystals and out to all the other objects.

Madame finished drawing the transmutation circle, rubbed her hooves, and slammed them down on her circle. A green light appeared, and for a few seconds. the contents of the circle was hidden behind a veil of green flame.

Then the fire subsided. It at first appeared as if nothing had happened.

"I'm telling you. There is no energy for me to pull out of these things."

Twilight did not let herself be brought down. In fact she smiled as she put her hoof on Madame's shoulder, and told her to try again.

"This time. Channel electricity through the crystals and into the other objects. And Don't worry. I'll stand for the electricity” She added before Madame Macadame could ask where she would get electricity from in this hole in the ground.

A small crack of thunder was heard as Twilight lit up her horn. Using magic gave her a migraine as all the hunger and exhaustion, plus all the magic draining weighed down on her. But she still produced a low frequency stream of lightning from the tip of her horn, and let it wash over the items. The energy passed through the crystals as if they sucked it in. Making them light up as their circuitry pattern glowed like the filament of a light bulb, before the electricity passed on through the circle, and down into the floor.

This was a test that could take anything between weeks, months and years, by Twilight's assumptions. But the Alchemist would help speed up the process by forcing the transformation to occur almost instantly.

Madame lit up her circle again. And this time the effect was clear for everypony. From the crystals, and out over the wood and metal objects, a faint layer of frost like gleam started to appear. The surface of the objects started to transform before their eyes.

The transformation did not just occur where the disks touched anything. But anywhere the electricity jumped, dots of a gleaming substance started too appear.

The light of the circle died out as the changeling had to remove her hooves. She was panting and sweating, the transmutation having drained the slat of her energies.

Even Twilight could feel the strain as her migraine worsened. Put she pushed the pain beneath her horn aside as she picked up a metallic spoon from the circle. It had transformed almost completely into a much more crystallized material. The same kind of crystal as the blue disk where made of. Twilight was sure of it.

Twilight examined the items in her magic, and confirmed her suspicions.

“EUREKA!” She shouted.

“What!” The other ponies asked, rubbing their ears at her outburst.

“Electricity! It travels through electricity That was why no one detected any radiation! The energy of the crystal only travels by electricity!”

She looked back at Necro, Madame and Dr Morbious. Even without the X ray spell she could see the brain damage that these things had caused.

It all made sense now. How the magical properties of these disks had escaped the notice of the scientists and all their high-tech measuring equipment. Any attempts to measure it would have come up empty because it would have been hidden in the electrical frequency of the machine. And any unicorns examining the crystal would simply see the electricity running through it, or nothing at all.

But the magic was carried out of the crystal, on the electrical waves of electronic equipment - Or the electric impulses of brainwaves. Slowly it turned anything the energy passed through into crystallized matter. So slowly that you wouldn't notice it at first.

These ponies had been using their implants for the better part of a decade now. Especially Necro, who had used it constantly, and thus suffered the worst side effects.

"It was true what you said Morbious. These crystals do have the ability to re-write energy! I'm guessing that any magic that passes through these things becomes re written into some kind of digital energy. Its no wonder no unicorn can sense any radiation coming from them! Because there isn't any, At least - not as long as the devise is unplugged! The energy can only start moving with the help of the electricity that is needed for the component to function in the first place!"

Twilight was almost jumping up and down with excitement. She only calmed down after - as promised - Letting the starving Madame Macadam feed of that rush Twilight was experiencing after solving a mystery.

And this helps us how?” said. Cardiac “Does this test serve any purpose?” - or are you just satisfying your own curiosity? was the underlying question.

“Dr Cardiac. You asked me why I’ve been so interested in how sweetie works – I was hoping go gain some clue about how I could use magic to find her”

'And don’t even dare to give me that “is-that-all-the-reasons-look.' she thought.

That's when Rarity actually made a noise.

"Twilight... you saw her... you heard her. She isn't Sweetie any more! She does not want to be. What if its already to late!? what if she is already a machine?"

"No. She can't be!" Her parents pleaded.

"She wants to crack her Heart-Drive"

"But then... Her soul..."

"She does not have a soul!" Shouted Necro.

Rarity's eyes where pleading. Begging Twilight to give her hope. To restore her fate in Sweetie.
But how could she? How was she suppose to prove life? How was she suppose to prove that something had a soul After everything had tried so hard to prove the opposite. Especially since the soul was a concept nopony never been able to understand or explain.

'But I will try'. She though. 'For Rarity's sake.'

Twilight looked at the blue disk in her levitation. 'Choose your next words carefully' she thought. 'For you are holding the key to sweeties existence in your hooves'.

She thought about what Shockwave had said.

“The soul is like a seed … it grows with the flower.”

She thought about what Cardiac had said about wrinkles and synapses on the brain.

She thought (with some level of disgust) about what Dr Morbious had said about their experiences.

“is there such a thing as an artificial soul?”

“If we create something entirely new – what are we gonna compare it to?”

She could feel her own brains wrinkle as she tried to come up with an explanation.

One last theory. One half sound argument that Sweetie was alive.

“The crystal" She said, holding up the sample for all to see "Is like a brain. It stores information in the form of energy. Just like the electricity between the synapses on the brain it to has a lot of energy running between its crystallized components."

She looked to the Belle's. One family desperately looking for their youngest member. Not for a replicate that had replaced their still born foal. Nor the copy of said organic foal into a mechanical duplicate. But the being they had raised and loved under all these years.
Who under their care had grown to become one of the, If not the Sweetest little filly in all of Ponyville (Pun intended.)
If they believed Sweetie was alive. Who was to argue?

Apparently Necro. Who started shouting:

“They killed her! They killed their little child for experiments!” Then he started laughing. “That is if that thing was even alive to begin with. Which I doubt.”

“I saw that little freak an I just wondered – how could that have a soul? How could that have a soul when it wasn't even alive. O sure the heart was beating fine. But there was nothing in there. It was just an empty shell. A useless soulless bag of meat!”

“SILENCE!” Brick and Thrunks roared simultaneously, and put more pressure on Necro's already straining limbs.

“Hes right.”

Everypony turned to look at Twilight. Surprised that she would give the mad stallion her conformation.

“She agrees with me!” Necro smiled

“Hes right.” Twilight Continued “Sweetie was never alive. At least not mentally. Her brain wouldn't evolve – it wouldn't wrinkle."

She looked at Rarity's parents, and at rarity herself. all of who, with much hesitation, gave a slight nod.

"It was like Shockwave said, What is a soul locked in a crystal, or in a severed heart? Worthless as an unplanted seed. For it can not grow without a body to experience the world through. So you tried to give her a brain. With this.”

She held up the blue disk. "You tried to give Sweetie life. And in the end you ended up turning her into something completely new, something different from a pony."

“An unnatural abomination of metal!” yelled Necro.

Twilight smiled.

“But regardless of what she became, her mind did evolve. On these!”

She levitated every sample of blue crystal she had collected over to the Belle's who took them in their hooves.

"Shockwave was right. They did need a blank slate. An already self concussions mind would likely have rejected the implants. Just like the transformation is being rejected on these poor ponies."

She gestured over at the brain damaged trio of Necro, Morbious, and Madame macadam.

Screwloose barked in agreement.

"Does this mean Sweetie is insane?" Brick asked. He like all the others. Looked very unsure about what twilight was saying.

"No. She did not have a mind that could go insane from the implants – that's the beauty of it. Her undeveloped brain turned into crystal just like a brain would become wrinkled."

For her inner eye, the photographs of Sweeties developing mind flashed by. Twilight had not thought about it before. But in retrospect, the growing branches that formed as the crystalization spread over the blank brain mass had almost looked like a central brainstem.

That simple statement from Twilight changed everything.

Everypony looked at each other, and at everything else. Twilight could almost hear the silent mumbling everypony was conducting within themselves. If ponies could share processing power by way of eye contact, then a lot of information was now unspokenly trading users. and through that, it was like a common understanding of everything was reached. Especially for Rarity's parents parents. Who shoe up like the collective light bulb in this. It was as if they never hat thought of it like this before.

Cardiac smiled – and for the first time in a long time – perhaps the first time ever - he shot Twilight an approving look, as he understood what she was trying to do.

Twilight waited for the final white light bulb to ignite in Rarity. The seamstress still hung her head low, staring through the old and blood stained imperfect devise that Screwloose had once held. Slowly she lifted her eyes from the floor and looked up at Twilight.

“But you saw her at the bridge.” Rarity said with a shaking voice.

Dr Cardiac quickly cut in.

“And did you all notice the one extraordinary thing she did? She called herself bot. Sweetie bot. She called herself a robot.”

“How is that a good thing?” Asked the whole Belle family

“And she hated it!”

“How is that better!?”

“It means she is starting to accept it."

Cardiac removed his glasses, and shipped them off on his torn and dirty coat.

"They say that the road to acceptance goes through – denial – anger - bargain and depression."

He looked at Thrunks.

"The reason she ran from your home must have been because your son found out! She has been running this whole time from ponies who will remind he of what she is. Because she denies it. She tried to find a new sanctrum with me. Where nopony would know who or what she was. At least she thought nopony did. But alas, that possibility was denied her. And she could not run from the biggest reminder of them all - Herself. These series of unfortunate events have forced her to see herself for what she really is ..."

Necro aborted his teachings.

"So she is accepting that she is a soulless automation!" The black stallion shouted "Good! Then maybe its time for you all to start accepting that machines cant have souls!"

"Yes she does!" Twilight shouted back "It evolved on this! Just like her mind developed on these disk so did her soul."

"What is a soul if not the combined collection of all of our memories and experiences?" Said Morbious.

Twilight nodded in agreement.

"The mind and the soul is basically one and the same. The soul needs a body to experience the world through, in order to grow. A functioning mind that is the soil in which the seed of a personality can take root, to grow and bloom. The stillborn Sweetie wouldn't be able to develop a soul since she couldn't live! But you gave her a chance to live by giving her a new body and a mind. A component that absorbed and expanded her essences."

"The circuitry that has formed inside these crystal formations of these disks, and inside Sweeties head, are like the wrinkles on our brains. They grow, change, and develop as more information in stored inside them. Not information in the form of code that gets typed in by keyboard or fed through a cable. But in the form of memories, through the things we experience every day of out lives."

"If your soul is your essences, and your essences are your personality, then it is formed by the life you live. Then Sweetie does have a soul!"

Again, everypony exchanged looks. Twilight could not help but giggle, By exchanging a few words with a mad stallion they had collectively just created something that sounded like a bit of philosophical poetry.

Even though Pinkie Pie was many miles away, Twilight could almost hear her pink friend detecting another big doosey on her Pinkie Sense.
A doosey indeed. Twilight thought, as she remembered how much she had doubted the unexplainable.

Sometimes, you just have to believe.

Necro was still not believing any of it.

"But what about her mark!" He shouted "She can never have a mark! For she is no pony. She is unnatural.

“Yeah!" Twilight sighed "But lets remember that little stillborn Sweetie would never have gotten any mark either, unless it is a talent to be braindead!”

The mood in the room, that had been lighting up a second ago, seemed to faint again. Madame let out a new convulsion.

“Sorry” Twilight apologized for her bad choice of words. She was just so very tired. The all were

She turned and looked out the window. The rain was beginning to subside, but blue skies and sun rays still seemed so far away. Twilight hadn't seen the light of her mentors sun in days, And she wondered if she would go insane if she kept following the bad weather like this.
She took a deep breath and signed. Her breath turning to vapor on the glass.

If we create something entirely new. What are we gonna compare it to.

“Sweetie might have become something un-pony like. But that doesn’t change the fact that you gave her a chance to live. You gave a stillborn child life. And that is all that matters.”

Nurse sedate Shook her head. “Confound in these theory’s they are making my head spin.”

“How can you say that she grew as a person when we still had to program her – Like a machine!” Said Necro - The ever growing presence of annoyance in Twilight's eyes.

“You had to program her body functions." Twilight answered "And you said even that was easy because the brain already seemed to know how an organic body should work. But did you even once try to program her personality”

“No. That would have been against everything the project stood for.” Madame coughed up between her convulsions.

“The problem was she wouldn’t develop a personality.” Said Morbious. “She was a hard drive without feelings, without emotions, that simply wouldn't care about a needle through the hoof or the tears of her parents. Believe me, I tried both those things, and more, and I didn't get any responses. She just took it and didn't care. It was all just a new piece of data to her. We tried to make her care but couldn't."

He seemed completely unfazed by the cold, murderous looks that Rarity's parents gave him.

"What? Its the truth and you know it. She might have become sentient. But she was heartless. Until...”

He nodded his head in the direction of Rarity.

Yes. That was the part Twilight to had trouble understanding. How, or what had Rarity done that was so special?

“That kind of cold mentality was the very reason we had to run away from you” Said Rarity's father. His voice filled with anger and sorrow. “When little Sweetie had gained a consciousness... when she came alive. We thought that the project was over. It would just be a little more fine tuning and we would be on our way. But Dr Neurosa wanted more!"

Mrs Belle continued.
"Towards the end, she summoned us to a meeting. She asked us what sort of personality we wanted from our daughter. How we wanted her to behave, how to act, how to speak, etcetera. We looked at each other. We didn't understand the questions. The point was that we would wait and see. Let her develop in whichever way she did. Lite a normal filly."

Twilight's ears perked at this.

But Dr Screwloose wasn't satisfied with our answer. She said she could make Sweetie any way we wanted. That we had a golden opportunity to decide everything about our daughter. An opportunity that other parents should be envious of. She wanted to reboot and program Sweetie Belles thought patterns. She even wanted to input a program that would make Sweetie obey our every word.

"A child should behave after all” – she said. "A child should obey their parents."

Tears were now Streaming down Mrs belles face, all these memories were tearing at her.

"She tried to convince us that it was not brainwashing, since Sweetie's mind was still in the earliest phases of development. And that we from there could basically "implant" a few "suggestions" that would make her the perfect daughter."

"She warned us that if we didn't. Sweetie might grow apart from us. distance herself from ponykind altogether. That she might hate us for what we had turned her into." Mr Belle sniffed. His mustache was becoming full of snot.

"She asked us if we didn't want Sweetie to love us."

"We said Yes. Of course we did!"

"... But! We wanted her to love us on her own terms! And we told Neurosa to her face that we believed that god old fashioned parenting would be the best programming we could give!"

“And how did she take that?” Twilight asked. Realizing she had lost her breath for a second.

Mr Belle shivered.

“She was furious.”

"She wanted more from Sweetie than we were willing to give. She was our daughter. And we said: No!”

Rarity looked up.

“Mom... Dad... Sweetie said she had a control program in her. She... blamed us for putting it in her.”

Just when Twilight didn't think a pony's face could go any darker. The Belle's broke all records.

“That... that... Mare!” Mrs Belle, stammered, spitting out the last word like a curse.

“She did it anyway!” Mr Belle cried out, panic washed over him. "Wasn't the reboot fiasco enough!"

"Reboot ... What reboot?!" Twilight asked.

“They did so much to her. So much we where not aware off!” Mr Belle cried. Seeming to get further and further into hysteria by the second.

"She showed us ..." his wife continued "Neurosa showed us all the horrible things that ... that ... These BASTARDS had been doing to her!"

Mrs Belle lashed out after the scientists, only the fact that Brick and Mr Thrunks happened to be standing in the way prevented her from unleashing her furry onto the trio of brain damaged ponies. (Though - Morbious looked like he would welcome it.)

"Weapons research ... Psychological experiments ... Hardware and software tests ... It had all clouded up out little girls mind! Things that these evil ponies had done without her knowledge. Neurosa offered us a chance to remove it. To wipe the slate clean."

"She ... She was just gowning to remove all the supernumerary files that the others had hidden inside her..." Mr Belle cried. He pulled his Strawhat so hard that straws started to come loose from the rim.

"I ... I just wanted ... her to forget ... all the horrible things" Rarity stammered. "And ... and she did."

Both of her parents were now pulling their hair. Over in the corner, Necro was rolling around with laughter.

"You think ... You actually think Neurosa did not know what we did!" He laughed "She played you like a fiddle! She played us all like a Celestia damned orchestra!"

Twilight had heard enough, and cast a silencing spell upon the mad stallion. But the silence would not give The Belle family any peace.

"And ... and now ... She blames us for everything!" Rarity stammered.

Her parents looked like they had flown into a fit of hysteria.

"Would not the control program disappear during the reboot!" they cried simultaneously. "Did she install it later? Was it ever activated?
If it was, would she be able to resist it? Has she been under its influence this entire time!?"

"Oh my poor little Sweetie!"

Dr Cardiac cut in with an attempt to calm them down.

“If she was programmed into loving you unconditionally, she certainly didn't show it. Doesn’t the fact she ran away contradict any notion of control of any kind?" he asked.

The Belles nodded.

"I wanted to talk to her about these things. I was booking sessions for her in my schedule. But I never got the chance.”

“We have to find her.” They cried out in unison.

But how? Twilight turned back to the window. Searching and locating spells wouldn't work since Sweetie gave of no magical signature. And the new information she had learned about the electrical radiation didn't help. She signed and thought about poor, poor rarity.
“I wish I could use your sisterly bond to locate her.” She whispered to herself. Leaning forward to rest her heavy head on the cold rain stained glass.

But how could she?
Sweeties heart was but a second cyber-core. All emotional energy they might have filled it with would have been transformed into an untraceable cybernetic frequency.

No, said a little voice in her head. That's not how it is. Think Twilight! you already have all the information you need. Just piece this puzzle together!

In her mind. The video recording of Rarity's parents and that mare Neurosa looking at some X ray photos played again.

On them were the image of a heart shaped component, with crack like tendrils moving in from the outer rim.

Transform

Sweetie was full of cyber-crystals. Crystals that had the ability to rewrite all energy into cyber-energy. And even organic matter physical objects into the same material. Sweetie would be no exception. That's why they had to protect the heart, which they in fear of the “absortion” had shielded behind some magic called a firewall.

The heart ... Its not leaking ... Its transforming!

A transformation that her parents had sought to undo by replacing her heart with a new crystal.
A pure organic crystal.

A light dawned on her mind.

It was still Raining outside. But for Twilight, it was like the veil of clouds had suddenly dispersed.

"OF COURSE! I'VE BEEN AN IDIOT!"

The others could just stare. There was something about hearing Celestia's protege calling herself an idiot.

Twilight danced back and forth. again feeling the rush of another mystery solved.

"I finally understand. Emotions radiate energy! You don’t program those energy's. You needed to give Sweetie those energy's! The crystals absorbs energy! So If her mind could absorb those energies, then she might actually evolve real emotions!"

Madame and Morbious exchanged looks.

"Yessss ... that's what we have been saying."

"No you don't! None none of you thought about that until Rarity did it! You all waited on that she would evolve those feelings on her own, am I not correct! But she didn't start doing that until Rarity showed her how."

Twilight grabbed Rarity by the hooves and pulled her up into her dance.

"You preformed the very first emotional transfer!"

Rarity was as limp as a doll, and just flung along as Twilight danced on.

"What do you mean." She whispered "I don't know anything about transferring emotions."

"But you did!" Twilight laughed "Because you loved your sister so much you gave her a bit of your love!"

"How?"

"The crystal - you gave her a crystal heart! Not an artificial cyber-core, but a real organic crystal!"

"Um ... yes ... But Twilight. What does this have to do with anything?"

"I know how to find your sister! "

Rarity's body instantly tensed, and she stopped Twilight's dance with a firm grip.

"How?! how are you going to do that?"

"With the help of you! Because I believe that your love for your sister can have been so strong that you unconsciously cast a spell on the heart. I believe that you transferred your feelings for your sister onto that crystal. And If I’m right about this. Then that touch you gave the crystal heart should work to form a link between you two."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Morbious asked.

"Because she had to. Without any energies for Sweeties main cybercore to absorb - That heart shaped crystal would just have been a shiny rock."

Again. Madame and Morbious exhanged looks.

"How fassshinating it is..." He said. "How is it that one who was not even part of our experiment seems to now more about it than we do?"

Twilight felt a hoof on her shoulder, Rarity's body had tensed and she was once again able to stand on her own. And for the first time since this whole tragic adventure began. She smiled.

"That is because, she is Twilight Sparkle." Rarity stated, as a fact to Morbious question

Twilight felt a bit of a blush warming her cold cheeks. Technology might not be her specialty. But magic was. Especially the magic of friendship and the bonds that pony's share.

***

Like Twilight had feared. Rarity did not actually remember exactly what had happened that night. Or what magic she might have used.
But despite her friends insistence that she could not remember. Twilight led Rarity back to her stool, then she pulled up one for herself to sit on, right in front of her friend. Her voice turning stern and serious.

“Rarity – I need to look into your mind. I need to see what magic you used if I am to have any chance of pinpointing Sweetie Belles Location. I'm going to use a 'Mind Delve' spell to look into your memories. More specifically on your memory of that night."

Dr Cardiac gave Sully a disapproving stare, but she just shrugged.

"Now - Does anypony have a map?"

Mr Thrunk's was quick to provide a suitable map of the entire white tail woods. The same map that he had used to guide Rarity's parents through the forest. The map was rolled out over the table, and Twilight cast a scrying spell upon it. She explained that they would use it to pinpoint Sweetie's position. A silence spell was then cast upon Necro, and the rest simply had to stay quiet to allow the two mares to focus on the task at hoof.

Twilight took Rarity's hooves in her own and told her to close her eyes as she put a small hypnotic spell upon her. Both mares leaned their heads forward until the tip of their horns touched.

"Now Rarity. I know this hurts, but I'm going to have to ask you to think about that night. To put yourself into the past. To the point when you found that crystal."

Rarity's lips moved to form a silent yes. with that, Twilight activated the Mind Delve spell, and closed her own eyes.

from the tip of her horn, a tendril of purple magic extended itself, It wrapped itself around Rarity horn, spiraling downward along its natural spirals lines, and down into the base of her head.

Despite how difficult nurse Sully had warned Twilight that the spell could be, she encountered surprisingly little resistance as she entered her friends mind. Twilight wanted to believe that it was because Rarity had complete and utter trust in her. But it was also scary, that her friend might have gone so far over the deep end that she had abandoned all attempts to protect herself.

Twilight found herself falling through a mist, a mist that thickened and darkened the further she got. She feared this might be a constellation of Rarity state of mind. She briefly considered pulling out when the clouds when away and solid ground came running towards her. It took quite a bit of mental effort not to pull out out of fear of smashing head first into the dirt below her. She had to remind herself that she could not actually be hurt here. that she was just viewing Rarity's memory take form.

The dark clouds were part of that memory. Thunder roared above and rain hammered the muddy ground like spikes. She was somewhere on a muddy field, right at the foot of a mountain. Around her the hazy forest was fading in and out of the memories edge. The landscape itself was hazy and changing like waves in a storm with trees rocks and cliffs appearing and disappearing like ghosts.

The only constant was a little white and purple filly. So covered in dirt that she was almost impossible to spot in this muddy dreamscape. her hooves dug frantically in the earth, her horn flaring as she searched from something.

Voices seemed to whisper around her. Promises of death and loss.

Its over ... Have to ... let it go ...

“No! She's my little sister. I wont let you take her!” The filly screamed as she pulled something from the ground. A red ruby that shone like a star in the dark memory. The heart shaped crystal in her hooves was much smaller than Twilight would have expected. But then again. everything in this foggy memory was sketchy at best.

The next thing Twilight knew, Rarity was running through the dim lit corridors of some iron clad facility, The crystal flying beside her in her magical grip. She didn't even remember running from the fields up to the front door of this place. The corridor seemed endless, yet passed by so quickly. This part of the memory seemed to speed up like hitting fast forward on a video. Since it was just transition from one important event to the next.

As she ran, Twilight could hear voices echoing through the empty halls.

“We are going to have to pull the plug on the project.”

“Om sorry. My little dear.”

These were voices that had been spoken to Rarity. Things that told of a great sorrow she was now fighting against. The things that drove her to do what she wan now about to do. Twilight did not have to guess to hard what they were about.
They where gonna take her sister away. And Rarity could not allow that.

The memory finally got some solidus as a pair of double doors, like the once used in hospitals, came rushing towards them.
little Rarity slammed her elbow into the doors, and a room so real and solid slammed down upon Twilight senses. She almost thought she could reach out and touch the humming hardware that filled the walls. Almost feel the smell that Rarity remembered coming from the table in the middle of the poorly lit room. And most definitely feel a real shock of her own when she saw what lay upon it.

She could see why Rarity had wanted to forget this.

The foal was lying on its back stretched out on a bench with all limbs in opposite directions. Its torso had been cut open from the throat down to the tail. Its yellowing white hide had been suspend with hooks on several strings holding its midsection open. It looked like a dissection.

The foals head was opened, the cranium having been split in half. The top half of the skull removed just above the eyes, exposing a blue pulsating orb that was the foals artificial brain. Her Cybercore. Hundreds of tiny wires connected the brain to a giant machine with hundreds of corresponding, blinking blue lights.

Rarity climbed up a chair and looked down at what would be her lively little sister.

There was nothing lively about this sight.

Down in the foals torso. Where one would expert to see the heart, liver, lungs and all the other inner organs. Was instead a black hole of machinery. Most of the organs had been replaces with early versions of their mechanical counterparts. Even more of wires connected the filly to a big selection of humming machines surrounding the table. Computer terminals showings scrolling text. Measurement stations and energy generators. Life support systems that for some reason kept on saying that organs where functioning normal even when they weren’t there any more.

In the center of what in the poor lightning looked like a black hole, was an empty space where her mechanical heart had yet to bee installed.

A blood pump had been placed nest to the table. Circulating the blood in and out of the hide and few renaming fleshy organs through a series of tiny tubes. Keeping the organic tissue alive.

She kicked the stool away from her as she climbed onto the table. The momentary loss of balance made her fall onto the torso.
A few of the hooks tore loose from the skin and opening bleeding wounds. Both on Sweeties body and on Rarity. One of the plastic tubes fell out of its socket and started spilling its life fluid into the foals chest. The blood got onto the heart where it mixed with the blood coming from Rarity own hooves.

All the while Twilight tried to remain focused on little Rarity’s magic, which had not once failed her. She was holding onto the heart shaped crystal so with a magic grip so hard that she probably couldn’t have drop it if the room had exploded.

Using both magic and her hooves young Rarity pushed the heart into the foals chest. As she did, she cut herself even further on the machinery. She paid no notice to the ominous sounds of the machines around her, or the blood she got on her hooves as she tried to push Sweeties ribs apart to make room for her crystal.

Her magic was continuously shaping and reforming the heart mixing the blood into the crafting as she turned and twisted it to make it fit inside that dark hole in her sisters chest.

To her horror she noticed the heart wouldn’t fit.

“No. NO! PLEASE!"

In desperation she called on her magi to reshape the heart yet again. Her horn flared with a double and a triple aura as she called on all her magic. Her sorrow and wishes and love and her eternal desire for her little sister to live fueled every ounce of her magic strength as she poured it all into the heart.

“I’ve got life. I’ve got so much! Please let her have some of it! LET MY SISTER LIVE!!!”

It had not been a spell. The magic carried no shape or form. It was all released in an uncontrolled magic eruption as little Rarity all but slammed the still morphing heart into the foals chest.
This time it fit. Like a piece of a puzzle.

In a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, Twilight felt something.

Wait! Go back! Watch! What was that?

Twilight was so overwhelmed with this that she almost forgot why she was here. She wouldn't dare to rewind and repeat the memory a second time as it was clearly Rarity did not want to be here. But this was important With strain she forced the memory to slow down just little bit as she mentally copied the magical signature coming from Rarity and the heart in her grasp.

It was like two sets of magic came together. Like two part coming together to form a greater whole.

No. Rarity had not transferred the soul – she had transferred her magic into the heart. Charging it. But with what?

There was a subtle pulse to the magic that was not coming from Rarity but from within the heart itself – It seemed irrely familiar to her...
like she had felt this feeling somewhere before...

Everything hit Twilight like a ton of bricks. It was a sensation that she could not explain in words. But it reminder her of her entrance exam to Celestia's school for gifted unicorns. When the Rain-boom had unlocked her hidden potential. How she had felt when she realized that her new friends where the elements of harmony. And how she felt right after that - when she had used their presence to summon the sixth element from herself.

… A spark!

As the magical grasp on the crystal released twilight found herself stunned.

“Oh Rarity. You gave your sister a spark”

She was so overwhelmed by what she had experienced that she hardly noticed Little Rarity still going hard at work.

She started pulling wires from the body and the machinery round her, and tying them to the the heart shaped crystal. And then reconnecting them in ways she probably could only hope would work.
As someone how knew Rarity’s talented dressmaking it was almost like she was sewing the heart into position.

For a second, the machines connecting to the brain gave an ominous hum, and all the light started blinking in in rapidly shifting panthers before returning to normal. But Rarity was to busy to notice.

When she had stitched the last knot in place she moved out to the skin. Releasing the hide from the restraints and then using one of the hooks and its line like needle and thread she started sewing the torso shut. Like a doctor would stitch up a wound after operation.
(Even if the only surgeon experience Rarity had was to sewing a teddy-bear together for one of her childhood friends.)

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

The voice came from behind. One of the Doctors was standing in the open doorway. Looking at Rarity with horror filled eyes.

Rarity was crying so much that every word got stuck in her throat.

The doctor took one strange look at the measurements and on the scene before stomping in. Grabbing Rarity by the mane.
She could only wail as she was dragged from the table. The doctor cursing the entire time that she might have ruined everything.

As Rarity was dragged out of the room she cast one last look at the sister she so desperately tried do save. The foals head had rolled to the side, facing the doorway and its eyes had popped open.

Twilight couldn’t be sure. But it was almost like those green eye was looking directly at Rarity.

As Rarity's screams faded out into the hallway, Twilight let the memory end.

***

Twilight opened her eyes to once again find herself in the present. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes swollen from tears. she was utterly trembling from the experience.

Yet. She smiled.

She looked across at Rarity. Her eyes where still closed and her eyeballs where moving under the eyelids, indicating she was still dreaming. Her cheeks were still pale, and the bags under her eyes were still black, but she till looked more at peace now than she had been the entire week. Perhaps confronting this memory had brought her new understanding of what happened.

“You felt it to, didn’t you?" Twilight asked out loud. "You felt what you gave your sister. A spark Rarity. You gave your sister a spark.”

Truly the bearer of the element of generosity - to give so much of herself for someone else.

Their horns where still connected as Twilight had not yet ended the spell.

“Listen to me Rarity. I’m not going to release you from the spell just yet. There is still something I need you to do.”

With the feeling of Rarity’s magic performance fresh in mind she began to weave a spell.

“Sorry Rarity. But I'm gonna have to hijack your magic for a little while.”

Twilight knew that once in her youth Rarity had had a spontaneous outburst of magic that had let her find a whole lot of gems.
It had happened when she was getting desperate for not being able to make good enough dresses for the school play.
Now Twilight wanted Rarity to tap into that same energy to find one very specific gem. The heart shaped gem with her personal touch she had given Sweetie Belle.

“I'm going to give you something that will help you find your sister”

Twilight’s horn glowed again as she cast a spell on Rarity’s horn. The air shimmered as the energy flowed from Twilight’s horn to Rarity’s. She dug into Rarity’s natural ability to find gems and pinpointed it to the frequency of the crystal emitting the energy she had felt in the memory.

Still keeping her friend under the hypnotic influence of the spell she brought her to the table with the map.

“Rarity. Listen to my voice. Can you find Sweetie Belle?”

Rarity’s lips moved but no answer came. She couldn’t give a yes or no answer. She didn’t know if she could.

“If you are not able to do it then I will.” Twilight said. It would just be a matter of copying Rarity's inborn ability.

“No!" Rarity shouted "No. I will do it. Its my sister after all.”

Twilight cast a second spell upon the map and then asked Rarity (whom still had her eyes closed) to put her hoof on the map where Sweetie Belle was.
Rarity’s hoof traced along the river Sweetie Bell had fallen in but then started curving of to the south. She started making small circles with her hoof until she finally put it down.

“There!”

Rarity had opened her eyes, and was looking, along with everypony else. at where her hoof had come down. At a crossroad just off a bridge on the other side of the river.

“Shes out of the water! She I moving! I can't tell exactly where to, but she is out of the water!”

The whole cabin erupted in cheers. The little filly was safe out of the roaring river.

Now that they all knew where Sweetie Bell was going. Rarity’s horn would lead the way.

The seamstress spun in place. Swinging her horn around to make sure she could sense in what direction Sweeties heart was.
Twilight confirmed it. She too had sensed the signals from sweeties heart While their horns had been connected.

This time. They would find Sweetie for sure.

Rarity flew over Twilight and gave her a very Un-ladylike hug.

”Thank you Twilight – I don’t know if everything you said makes any sense or not. But than you for giving me hope.”

“Right.” said Twilight. (”Don’t thank me yet”, almost slipped her tongue.) ”But We still need to find her.”

”Right. And find her we will!” Rarity proclaimed with determination.

"But how do we get across the river?" Brick asked " The bridge is gone. Are we gonna swim or something?"

Trunks elbowed his way to the table, and put a hoof on the map.

"There are many rivers cutting through the forest. And my family knew every one of them. This river broadens out a few kilometers down. The flow is slowed considerable. And you should be able to swim across to the other side."

“Any way we don’t have to swim through an ice cold river?”

Thunks pointed to the map again.

“There is a bridge a few more kilometers down the river. It might be a slight detour, but its the best we got.”

"Good! Because we are raking him with us" Dr Cardiac said with a nod at Necro. "Come on Brick. Help me move him into the wagon."

The two stallions pulled Necro from the floor and out the door. (Screwloose barking to ensure his cooperation.)

"And come on everypony! Lets go save my sister!" Rarity shouted.

“HOPE!” Madam Macadam yelled as she joined in om the hug. “HOPE TASTES GOOD!”

A green light appeared around her horn and a few ponies eyes flashed green for just a second, as some of that energy was extracted from their minds.

Everypony's spirits, who had been looking about ready to go out like a spent candle just a few moments ago, was truly rekindled.

Following Rarity's lead, everypony quickly got up and exited the filthy hut, out into what had now become a cold winters breeze.

Before they all stormed off, Mr Belle put a hoof Twilight's shoulder, and leaned in close.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “Our girl needed to hear that. But … were you telling the truth, or did you do that to give her hope?”

Twilight smiled.

“Both.”

Mr Belle smiled even wider.

"Thank you ... I needed to hear that."

And with that, he was off. Trying to catch up to his wife, who was in turn struggling to keep up with her daughter.

Something cold landed on Twilight's nose. But it was no raindrop. Well - Technically it was. Just frozen, and sculptured by the pegasi weather ponies.

She turned her eyes skyward, to see the first snowflakes had started to fall.

“It will soon be Hearts Warming Eve.” Twilight thought to herself as she magically pulled her lined raincoat closer. “Lets hope we all get to spend it together.”

She might act sure and self confident when she needed to, and everything that Twilight had told them had been the raw truth. There was however one tiny little thing that she decided to keep to herself.

Namely how weak, and fading, that signal seemed to be.

She feared that, If the changelings alchemy could speed up the process of cybernetic magical transformation. - It would also have sped up something in Sweetie Belle.