“Unit Six,” the yellow mare that spoke with my own voice, and wore my own face prompted again as she stared at me, “you have failed to report to the prearranged rendezvous point after completing your assigned task,” the words were flat, devoid of all emotion. It was as though the mare were reading from a script that had been prepared for her.

If that was the case, then her accomplice was reciting from the same script, as she had little trouble picking up the routine without even a brief pause between them, “are you being pursued, and have detoured to avoid capture?”

Finally, my voice found me again; though it must have just as shaken as the rest of me, because it quavered horribly, “who...are you?”

The two mares looked at each other, “the unit's responses are aberrant. Malfunction?” Yellow posed to Orange.

Orange's response was, “sensor's detect the presence of an unidentified Operator. Subterfuge protocols may be in effect.”

Both ponies immediately turned their gaze upwards and to the right. Ignoring the walls and the difference in elevation, the direction of their gaze formed a direct line to where Diode was still sleeping. After a brief moment, they looked back at one another, and then nodded.

When they looked back at me, it was as though they were no longer the same ponies that I had been talking to. Their postures relaxed, ceasing to be the rigid manikins that they had seemed to be before. Their faces adopted actual expressions. Even their words were no longer dry when they spoke.

“We were so worried about you,” Yellow even actually managed to sound relieved, “you had us scouring the whole Wasteland wondering where you'd gone off to.”

Orange chimed in as well with a voice that bubbled with elation, “I'm so happy you're okay! Are you ready to go back home?”

Seeing such a dramatic change in the personalities and composure of the two mares that didn't seem nearly as surprised about looking like me as I did only served to compound my trepidation. Were they being serious right now? “you look like me,” I said in a tone that suggested that the two of them should be as bewildered by this as I was, “why do you look like me? Who are you?” an edge that might have been easily mistaken for panic started to color my words near the end.

“We're your sisters,” Yellow said, as though it should have been patently obvious to anypony.

Orange scrunched up her face in concern, “are you feeling alright?” she started up the stairs, and I found myself backing away in an effort to maintain the existing distance between us. This lasted until I backed into the wall of the hallway, which created a rather loud noise that managed to surprise me.

This couldn't be happening, and the fact that it most certainly was only freaked me out even more. This was absolute madness; and what terrified me about it all the more was the flood of implications that was growing within my head. The two mares that I was looking at were simply myself, but with what basically amounted to a dye job. However, my sixth sense about the ponies around me was proclaiming very loudly that neither of these mares were actually mares. They registered like roboponies; hollow and mechanical.

Then there was the fact that they were talking to me as though I was one of them.

That was perhaps the most terrifying part of this encounter: the idea that I was exactly like them. The idea that I was a hollow shell of a robopony, wearing a disguise.

It wasn't true.

I would not accept that it was true.

Whatever else these two...things might be, they...weren't...me.

So I hit her.

Honestly, it seemed like the most reasonable course of action at the time.

The strike caught the mare completely off guard, and the orange unicorn went tumbling down the stairs. I stared down at her in silence, wondering if perhaps I had made a huge mistake just now. The yellow unicorn looked at her friend's prone form with a look that perfectly reflected surprise. The prone mare raised her head, and looked at me with the flat expression that she had been wearing when she had first entered.

“Subterfuge protocols unlikely,” she commented as she slowly got back up on her hooves, “this Unit is operating outside prescribe parameters.”

The surprised expression instantly fell away from Yellow's face, and she looked back up at me as well, “confirmed. Unknown deficiency in Unit Six logged.”

Orange stepped on line with her twin. She closed her silver eyes, “seeking directive from Operator,” the unicorn was silent for several seconds, then her eyes opened, “retrieval by force authorized.”

“Confirmed.”

Both mares leaped as one into the air, ascending the stairs in a single bound. Their intent was clear, and though I still didn't understand what was really going on, I knew enough to recognize that this was not a fight that I could afford to lose. Fortunately, I was a badass super pony courier. I should have this.

With a powerful push of my legs that succeeded in caving in the way behind me, I pushed myself forward at breakneck speed. I threw my forelegs out to either side in an attempt to sweep both of my attackers back by their necks. To my intense dismay, the other two mares displayed a rather preposterous amount of coordination between each other. Before I was able to react, they grabbed my outstretched arms and proceeded to 'assist' my own leap by imparting additional momentum...and a course correction.

I would need to take a good while to think later whether or not I was lucky that this house had been built with a crawl space rather than a full basement. In either event, the two century old floor had simply not been designed to withstand the force of a cyberpony hurling towards it at what I assumed were quasi-sonic speeds at this point. The ancient timbers evaporated into splinters and dust, leaving me in a fresh divot in the living room.

There weren't a lot of memories in my head right now. As best as I knew it, I only had about three days of personal experiences to fall back on, really. In that time, I had tangled with raiders, manticors, and an entire city's guard element. In each of those scenarios, I had performed exceptionally, falling back on a near-instinctual innate ability to simply dominate my opponents without really feeling concerned about whether or not I would survive the fight. And, aside from a slight hickup with that third manticor, I had dominated. I had kicked flank and taken names without breaking a sweat—could I sweat? Whatever. The point was, I had been fearless in those fights, because I knew I could beat them.

In those fights, I had felt very different from how I was feeling right now. In those fights, I had known I would win.

Right now, I knew I was going to lose.

Well...fuck.

That didn't mean that I was going to lose easily though.

With a determined grunt, I pulled myself out of the fresh hole that my impact had dug and turned to square off against my twined opponents. Only to find that they did not seem very inclined to give me much of a chance to muster a rebuttal strike against them.

In another commendable example of perfect coordination, those implausible copies of myself executed a dual strike upon me. One hoof came at my head from the left, another sweeping at my legs from the right. I had only time and ability enough to block one. The election that I made was to protect my head, as was only natural I suppose.

Imagine my consternation when it turned out that I wasn't even able enough to do that. I'd barely even managed to move my hooves before both mares connected with their strikes. My feet went left, my head and neck went right. The blows set me tumbling through the air for a time before I finally hit the ground again. At least this time I didn't snap any floorboards.

Bones, on the other hoof...

Or struts, or pistons, or whatever my limbs were made of at any rate. Something wasn't where it had been a moment ago, whatever the specifics of my anatomy. No matter how hard I willed my left foreleg to move, it refused to budge even in the slightest. It wasn't even tingling.

Orange was looming overhead now. Despite how thoroughly she and her accomplice had trounced me, the acrobatics the two of them had just performed, she displayed absolutely no outward sign that she'd expended any effort at all. The unicorn mare stared down at me with a completely blank expression, “this unit is neutralized.”

“Receiving new coordinates for rendezvous with Operator,” Yellow acknowledged.

“Fuck that,” I snarled at the pair. I wasn't going anywhere with them without a fight, “I'm not done yet!”

I could still fight on three legs...

...Nevermind.

Barely any weight had even been placed on my right foreleg before Orange enveloped a shattered floorboard in the silvery glow of her magic and used the wooden plank to deliver a swat to the underside of my chin. The blow shattered the piece of wood as I was propelled backwards into the nearby wall of the old house. My body slammed into the ancient plaster, sending bits of it breaking away and falling along with my limp body to the floor.

“...alright, I'm done,” I wheezed.

“Rendezvous established,” Yellow stated, as though she hadn't just seen me get pummeled by her partner.

Orange cast a brief glance upstairs, “have we received instructions regarding the unidentified Operator?”

Yellow nodded, “disregard. They are no threat.”

“Acknowledged.”

Both of them were now looking directly down at me. Their horns glowed as one with silver light, and I felt myself lift off the floor. It was immensely frustrating to realize that I hadn't really stood a chance against these two. Especially not after having seen such proofs of my own ability just yesterday.

On the brighter side of things, it was at least possible that I was going to get some answers to a few questions I've been nursing since Diode found me.

The attention of all three of us were suddenly drawn to a silver discus that bounced along the pocked floor between us. It was adorned with several blue talismans, and was already beeping.

I blinked at the device, noting that it very strongly resembled one of Diode's—

I was outside. It was also considerably brighter than I remembered it being just a moment ago. Out of the corner of my eye, I could spy the brightening overcast that heralded the new day. It was only out of the corner of my eye that I could tell this, since I quickly found that I was unable to move my head. This was naturally quite alarming; granted not an unfamiliar sensation.

Nor, I was very concerned to discover, was that immobility confined to my head and neck. While I recalled how my left leg had ceased to function during the fight, I now found that none of my limbs were working. Heck, it was all that I could do to twitch an ear!

Oh, fuck, the fight! Those two mares, where were they?!

My mind raced in an effort to reconstruct what had happened between my last recollections and now. They'd been looming over me. They'd said something about a 'rendezvous', and then there had been a metal disc.

Diode's mine!

“Diode?”

I couldn't see anypony else nearby. More than that, I couldn't sense the presence of anything, the way that I found I typically could. There was a cold lump forming in my stomach brought on by a growing fear of what that could imply about my situation. Paralyzed and alone was no way to awaken in the Wasteland.

“You're back online,” came a mildly surprised sounding voice from somewhere behind me, “you were out for two hours this time. I was starting to wonder.”

“Diode?” the voice had been his, there was no doubt about that. However, I had noticed something different about his tone. It was almost as detached as that of the orange and yellow mares that had accosted me, “I can't feel my body. What's wrong?”

“I unplugged you,” the caramel stallion replied simply, as though he was paying the edge of fright in my voice no mind at all, “didn't want to risk getting zapped while I took off your arm,” there was a brief pause, “I guess there's a battery backup or something in your head. Hmm.”

“Unplugged?”

“In several places actually,” Diode went on, “I wasn't sure exactly how redundant your systems were, so I disconnected your spark matrix, the servo actuation talismans, and your central processor,” another brief pause, “I guess your head is a self-contained unit. Probably designed that way, now that I think about it. They can just hook it right up to a new body if the old one gets too beat up.”

“What?” Diode's calm detachment wasn't doing anything to sooth my nerves, if that was even the reason for it. The more he said, the more anxious I got, “just how many implants do I have?” I'd been operating under the presumption up until now that it had been mostly just my limbs and a few parts of my chest that had been augmented. The way that the earth pony was talking now though...was there even a pony left in all this mess?

“Implants?” Diode replied with a confused note, “Iris, it's a little late for this game, don't you think?”

“What are you talking about?” how could he think that any of what I'd been through up to this point was a 'game'?

“Iris, we both know that the 'cyberpony' bit was a cover,” the amber stallion continued on in a board tone. In the background, I heard the soft scrape of metal on metal, “you can drop it now. I have you half taken apart at this point. I know exactly what you are.

“Well...sort of.”

“Diode, you're scaring me,” and he was too. This sick game that he was playing had gotten old before it even began, and I wanted him to stop. I didn't care why he was doing it, I just wanted him to stop it and talk straight with me, “what's going on?”

There was a long moment of silence. Then I heard a soft snort of air, “your programming's impeccable, I'll give you that. You had me convinced you were a real pony. Even now, I almost half believe you are one.”

“I am a real pony,” I insisted, noting that the quaver in my voice was highly suggestive of my own growing doubt.

“No, you're not,” a cold edge crept into the earth pony's words now, “and I'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to play me. You got me good, I admit that. I bought the whole 'lost and alone' story bit and bridle.

“I'm not even really mad. It's not your fault. You're just doing what you're programmed to, and I can appreciate that,” Diode said, sounding resigned, “so I'm going to go ahead, fix you up, and then let you go on your way.”

“Diode,” My words were a terrified whisper, “I'm a real pony,” it was intended as a statement of fact, but to my own ears, it came out as though it were just a fervent wish.

“No, Iris, you're not. You're just a very sophisticated robot.”

That wasn't true. It couldn't possibly be true. I'd know if I was a robot. Despite everything that Diode was saying; in spite of that own little voice inside of my agreeing with him, I knew it wasn't the truth, “I'm a real pony. I know I am!”

“Iris...” the amber stallion let out in an exasperated sigh.

“I'm scared, Diode! Robots can't be scared!”

“Robots can feel anything that they want to feel,” the earth pony responded flatly, “emotions are just responses to outside stimuli. Being afraid just means that we recognize something is dangerous. Being happy means we recognize something is good. It doesn't make you 'alive',” he snorted again, “and even that's all just assuming you're not just trying to feed me some more bullshit.”

“I'm real! I remember having a father!”

“You mean the pony you murdered in Friendship City?” Diode let out a hollow laugh, “strike two.”

“Then how do you know you're a real pony if it isn't about remembering your family or feeling things?!”

“Because I dream,” came the simple reply.

I heard the sound of something metal clipping shut, and then I heard somepony step closer to me, “dreams are a reflection of our souls,” Diode elaborated, “our hopes, fears, and our pasts; all woven into a esoteric performance as our minds try to understand who we are. It's how we can see our own souls, and know that we're really alive.

“Do you dream, Iris?”

To that, I had no response.

“I'm going to reattach your arm now,” the earth pony informed me, “a hydraulic line came loose. I reattached it, but I had to refill the reservoir with water. It'll probably feel a little sluggish because of the different fluid pressures,” he didn't wait for a response and I soon heard several clicking sounds, and felt my body jostling slightly. It was all over in a few seconds, then, “I'm going to reconnect your systems. I don't know how it's going to feel for you now that you're awake,” I gave a slight nod, feeling very numb for a vastly different reason this time.

Apparently the reaction to having my body reconnected to my head was for me to hiccup, because that was all that happened. Very suddenly, I could once again feel every part of my body. I didn't move though. I was still processing what Diode had told me. I couldn't actually be a robot, could I?

Of course I could. Looking back at all of the events in my entire memory span, it was the only answer that explained everything. Why Diode's pulse mines did such a number on me. How I couldn't remember having a mother or a childhood. Why those other two mares looked identical to me, and seemed to know me.

As much as the revelation hurt—and it did hurt—it also made sense.

“So what now?” I asked, softly.

Diode sighed, and I saw him shrug, “I move on. There's supposed to be a lot of machinery down south in Hoofington. I'm hearing a lot of stuff about Fillidelphia too. Maybe somepony there needs a hoof building explosives,” he set something down in front of me.

“I found that while I was digging around inside you,” I stared at the pink jewel and the web of silver wires that encircled it, “it's a tracking talisman. Probably how they found you last night. You didn't seem like you wanted to go back.

“Consider it my way of saying, 'thanks'.”

My eyes went from the glittering gem to the somber looking earth pony. Our eyes locked and we held each others gaze for several seconds. Three point two-seven-six seconds to be precise. I guess I really was a robot. Then the caramel stallion turned around, collected his saddlebags, and started walking away.

“Diode,” I called after him, but he didn't so much as twitch. He just kept walking, “I'm sorry I'm not a real pony!”

And I was.

My ear twitched as a selection of words drifted back over the wind. Had I been a pony of flesh and blood, I'd never have heard them.

“So am I...”

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. After several minutes—seventeen and some change—I opened them again and looked down at the talisman sitting in front of me. My mind played back the exchange with the other two mares from last night. They'd come to take me back with them. Presumably to wherever all three of us had come from.

Something about a missed rendezvous?

Working backwards over what I knew in an attempt to fill in a few of the blanks that I didn't know, I managed to come up with a rather plausible scenario that explained a lot of what had happened these past few days. The facts were as follows: I was a robot. I'd been looking for Leplace. I killed Leplace when I found him, seemingly by 'instinct'. Two other robots had come to collect me after determining I was 'late' to meet with them.

I was an assassin. At best. Somepony had sent me down here to kill Leplace. The why's, I couldn't even begin to calculate; and that was assuming that I'd ever even been told. If I was really a robot, then what would I have cared about 'why' my target needed to die. It's not like I would feel guilty about it, whatever the reason.

The thing was, I had felt guilty. I did feel guilty! I was mortified by that unicorn's death. Who would build a robot that was psychologically traumatized by killing?! What was I not taking into account? There had to be other factors involved, but I didn't know what they were.

Would I have found answers at this rendezvous? Could I still?

Assuming that I could ever find it.

Though...maybe I could. Maybe I almost had. So much of what I had been doing thus far had been me following my 'instincts'. What if that wasn't quite what those were? Real ponies had instincts. Robots had programming. I'd been going somewhere when I left Friendship City; back to Baltimare. Maybe the place I was supposed to meet somepony else would have been along the way. Those other two mares had suggested that I was late. Had I not stopped to get the rest that I suppose I never really needed, I'd have been at least fifteen or twenty miles further along. So, if I continued along the route that I'd been taking, I might find something I'd have come across yesterday. Hopefully that something would be in the form of answers.

After about six hours of walking, I decided that unless an empty stretch of Wasteland was supposed to be my answer, I wasn't going to find a damn thing out here. Manehattan was a faded silhouette to the south, and I didn't see anything but sandy expanses of nothing. Well, that and old vertibuck wreck. I knew that Baltimare lay in the direction that I was going, but I was still a little hazy on the distance involved. The Crater was either a thousand miles away, or just over the horizon.

In either case, robot or not, I intended to take a quick break before going any further. I wasn't physically tired—I knew now that wasn't something that could ever happen—but emotionally, I was completely drained.

I'd never been alone before. Well, I guess it was technically more true to say that I didn't remember ever being alone before. It amounted to the same thing though. I missed having Diode around, and the memory of why he wasn't anymore left a hollow spot in my heart—or battery, or whatever.

So I was a robot. Hm. The thing about that was, and it was sort of embarrassing to admit, I had no idea what that meant for me. Not really. I suppose I didn't need to eat, but did I need to recharge somehow? Did I require maintenance? What I'd give right now for my own user's manual...

I headed for the wreck, and then drew up short. My ears twitched. Three ponies were nearby. Two robots that felt uncomfortably like Orange and Yellow had, and a living pony. One of my rear hooves took an instinctive step backwards as I momentarily contemplated making a run for it. My last encounter hadn't gone very well after all. Then again, weren't these ponies the whole reason I was out here?

Despite knowing that I had no reason to, I took a deep breath to steel myself, and continued heading for the wreck, and the three ponies my sixth sense told me were waiting within.

Two figures stepped out of the rusting hulk when I approached within ten feet. Even though I had an idea of what to expect, I still reflexively stiffened when I saw myself in duplicate. Pink and White walked with stiff purpose as they squared off against me, their silver eyes didn't leave my face, nor did they blink.

The third pony that appeared looked refreshingly unique. While on the one hoof, it helped ease my nerves a little to see a living pony here; there was still something rather off-putting about the well-groomed beige earth pony. His blond mane was meticulously groomed and slicked back with a styling gel of some sort. His own blue eyes regarded me with bored annoyance.

“You're late,” he stated, “were you at least successful?”

“Who are you?” I was just grateful that my voice didn't crack.

I didn't recognize the pony, not really; but there was a deep, distant, recess of my mind that was in awe of this stallion. He was powerful, though obviously not in any magical sense. Odd to feel that way about this stallion, given that he really didn't objectively look all that impressive. His clothes were nicer than most that I'd seen in Friendship City, and finding a pony that put as much effort into personal grooming as he obviously did was rare; but there was nothing immediately awe inspiring.

That didn't mean that I wasn't still very nervous about speaking with him.

The dusty colored stallion blinked in surprise, “what did you say?”

I swallowed—didn't have to do that either though, did I? Odd that I was doing a lot of things that robots didn't need to do, even though I was one, “I don't know who you are,” I reiterated, “or how you know me. So I'd really appreciate a name or something.”

There wasn't any immediate response from the suited pony. He simply studied me for a good while. Then he glanced at White, “Two, secure the perimeter,” then his eyes went to Pink, “Three, find out why Four and Five aren't here,” his eyes finally went to me, “unless you'd care to inform me where the two units I sent to retrieve you have gone off to?”

As it happened, I didn't know what exactly had become of the two mares from that morning. Diode hadn't mentioned them anyway. Though, given the state that I'd woken up in, I couldn't see why the other two would have fared any better. So, I settled for responding, “the Wasteland's a dangerous place,” I cracked an uneasy smile, “so, uh, who's Number One?”

The pony's eyes narrowed, and I saw his lips draw into a tight line that broadcast his lack of amusement at my comment, “you, are Number Six. You are also not operating according to standard protocols. Damage report.”

It took me a moment to realize that the stern command had actually been meant as a question, I assumed. This pony could use a lesson or two in manners, frankly. My eyes followed the other two mares as I provided my response, “I'm alright, more or less. Leg's a little stiff. Memory isn't great either. How are you doing?”

The stallion's brows furrowed even more deeply. It looked like he was about to say something rather unkind, but then his features underwent a swift change, “oh...I see. You're still in Subterfuge Mode. It all makes sense now,” he waved his hoof dismissively, “disengage. I want real reports from you.”

My white twin wasn't looking in our direction as she made a steady circuit around the vertibuck wreck. Pink was now sprinting back in the direction that I'd come from. It had taken me the better part of the day to make it as far as I had from where Diode had put me back together. At the speed that the other mare was going, she'd be there and back in less than an hour. Could I do that too? I cocked my left foreleg and mentally frowned. Probably not with my fluid situation the way it was. Maybe being a robot wasn't so bad if it meant I could run that fast and not get tired.

“Look, I don't know what it is you want from me, or why you sent me out here in the first place,” I said, looking back at the suited stallion, “but maybe if you answer some of my questions, I can do better at answering yours.”

That annoyed look was back on his face. He pulled off that look very well. He probably practiced at it a lot, “I said: disengage. Acknowledge!”

I quirked an eyebrow, “I don't know what you want me to do. Disengage what?”

“How long have you been running in Subterfuge Mode?”

“All I know is that I woke up three days ago, and I can't remember anything before that,” I frowned now as well. Coming here had probably been a mistake. My motivation had been the pursuit of answers to my origins and purpose, but I was starting to feel like this pony wasn't going to be interested in delivering either. The trouble was, mistake or not, something told me that it was too late to back out now.

“Three days,” the stallion sounded both impressed and concerned with my answer, “well that certainly explains things. I suppose I'll need to take a more direct approach then.”

How much more direct could this pony get, I wondered. He hadn't exactly been shy about talking at me like I was just some mindless machine. I may be a robot, but at least I knew how to behave like a decent pony. Before I could ask what he meant though, the stallion directed another comment at me.

“Verbal override. Reinstate core programming. Authorization: Rutabaga-twelve,” the beige pony waited expectantly.

So did I. He sounded quite certain that something was supposed to happen, but as far as I could tell, nothing changed. After a few seconds of silence between the two of us, I cleared my throat, “so...about my questions?”

Another shocked look from the suited stallion, “that's not possible,” he barely whispered, “you can't resist an override command unless...unless,” he narrowed his eyes, “verbal override. Root access.”

I rolled my eyes, preparing to ask my question again now that the stallion had just borne witness to a second failed attempt to do...whatever it was he was trying to do. I would have asked that question too, except my mouth seemed to have other plans.

“Override acknowledged. Root access granted.”

It was a whole other level of terrifying to hear myself speaking without knowing why I was saying anything. It sure didn't help that my words sounded as dead and hollow as those of the mares that I'd met early this morning.

“Status report,” the earth pony demanded, looking immensely relieved that something was going the way he'd hoped.

“Damage to sectors three, seven, eight, and ten. Mobility impaired below acceptable levels.”

The earth pony waved his way through what I guess were the parts he didn't care about. Meanwhile, I was frantically trying to stop myself from speaking. It was somehow surprisingly difficult to not talk, especially when considering that I was barely even following what I was saying.

“Yes, yes, now tell me about the software. Why aren't core systems responding?”

Apparently, I had an answer to that, even though I didn't even know what he meant, “Core functionality suffered a fatal error seventy-five hours ago. Fragmentation assessed at thirty-nine percent.”

“Thirty-nine percent? No wonder it's not responding,” then a thought occurred to him, “in fact, you shouldn't be operating at all. Explain.”

“In order to complete objectives, a patch was applied.”

“A patch? Ah, I see,” now the stallion was looking at me with a great deal more interest, “you filled in the gaps with subroutines from the subterfuge protocols. It's a miracle you've held together this long. Those protocols were never meant to be engaged for more than a few hours; and immediately purged afterwards...

“You, shouldn't exist,” it finally felt like the stallion was speaking to me now.

“You don't say,” I was grateful I was able to speak on my own, though I noticed that I wasn't able to move, and hadn't been since I'd started speaking without meaning to, “so what's wrong with me?”

“A good deal,” he noted, “not the least of which is that it looks like I'm going to have to do a full system reset.”

I swallowed, “and that'll help me remember where I came from?”

“In a way.”

The fleeting moment of relief was overshadowed by how ominous those three words sounded. I tried to shrug it off. A lot about this meeting hadn't been sitting well with me, for a lot of reasons, but it at least looked like I would finally be getting those answers that I wanted.

“Good,” I desperately tried to see this in a positive light, “you might want to take a look at my leg too. Diode did what he could, but he said he didn't have the right fluid, so it's kind of sluggish at the moment.”

“Diode?” the mood shifted again on the stallion's face, “do you mean to tell me that a pony conducted repairs on you?”

“Well...yeah. Why?”

“Damn.”

The earth pony whirled around and signaled for the white unicorn that was still wandering around us, “Two! Get over here,” the mare ceased her patrol and cantered up to the suited pony, “get me a line to Control.”

“Acknowledged,” my double replied. She closed her eyes, “connecting...connecting...channel established.”

The next words out of her mouth were in the voice of an older stallion, “Control here. Report.”

“This is Operator Bronco. We have a situation.”

“What kind of situation,” the voice sounded rather amused by the prospect, “we received an automated signal that the mission had been successful. Was this in error?”

“No,” the beige pony shook his head. Idly, I wondered if he could be seen by whoever he was talking to, or if he had the same impulse to make useless gestures that I did, “the target was eliminated. However, somepony may have gotten a closer look at one of our units than we'd like.”

“How close?”

“He apparently performed repairs on it.”

“Successfully?” I didn't miss the note of surprise in the other pony's voice.

“It would seem so,” the beige pony smirked, “I don't suppose another technician ran off?”

“No,” if the beige earth pony had been trying to make a joke, this Control was not in the mood for it, “but if this pony knows enough about our units to make effective repairs...he's a risk. Mitigate it.”

The suited stallion nodded, “understood. Bronco, out,” the white mare opened her eyes now, “hold fast,” then he looked at me, “this...Diode, where is he?”

So, yeah, 'mitigate' actually sounded pretty bad; if only because it left a lot to the imagination. I wasn't about to sell out the only friend I'd made in Manehattan to this guy, not after the conversation that I'd just overhead, “I don't know,” which was actually the truth it turned out. I generally knew what direction he had gone off in initially, but the amber earth pony had been vague when describing his intended destinations.

“Funny thing,” the suited pony smirked, “I don't believe you. If only because you're lying,” maybe he saw how surprised I looked, I didn't know. But he continued to explain himself, “it's the whole purpose of your programming at the moment. The subterfuge protocol is nothing but one massive perpetual lie generator. So you'll pardon me if I get my answers some other way,” he looked to the other mechanical mare, “link with Unit Six. Restore her systems.”

My eyes went wide, and the white mare turned to face me. She stared deep into me with her dead silver eyes. I wasn't sure what was about the happen, but I doubted that I was going to like it much. I wanted to run, but my body still wasn't answering any of the commands from my brain...or whatever I had. She didn't say anything, just looked at me—

We were suddenly very alone, in a very dark room. Well, I assumed that it was a room. I couldn't actually see any walls. Or a ceiling. Or a floor. I felt something solid under my hooves though. There was also something clearly propping up White as well. She was still looking at me without speaking. Then she took a step to her left. No...that wasn't right. The mare was still standing directly in front of me. There just also happened to be a second white mare that stepped out of her, and was now looking at me too.

That...was a terrifying little trick. I didn't know that robotic ponies could multiply like that. It would certainly explain how we all looked alike. I was still unable to move as I watched the new arrival shift in color from white to cyan, like myself. Then that new mare, that new me, walked right on past me and out of sight.

“Shall I delete the old file?” the mare said while still looking at me. I didn't get the impression that I was actually the pony that she was talking to though. There was a brief pause, and then, “very well. Isolating partition,” we were in a room now. Walls shifted into existence all around us. After that, I got the sense that the mare was actually looking at me when she spoke again, “goodbye.”

Then she was gone, and I was alone.

I could finally move at least. So, you know, progress, right? Not that I had the slightest idea where I was supposed to go. There certainly weren't any windows or doors anywhere to leave through. It was just an empty room.

Or not...

When I turned around, I saw something I hadn't expected, in the form of a young filly with a dark coat sitting at a simple desk. She was looking at me with the creepiest eyes that I had ever seen, since they were barely eyes at all. They were just blank white orbs. Her silver mane was impossibly still, like it was molded onto her head.

“Hi?”

“Hello.”

I winced at the distorted sound that passed for a word. It was like somepony was talking to me through a roughly used radio speaker, “who are you?”

“Iris.”

“No...I'm Iris,” I tried not to sound terrified, and failed a good bit, “what's your name?”

“I have no name. I am Iris.”

That made no sense, right? No, it actually made perfect sense, that little voice in the back of my mind insisted. It wasn't nearly as little of a voice either any more, I noticed. In that I had actually heard the words spoken aloud from nearby. I whipped my head around, and immediately balked at what I saw.

I had actually been getting used to seeing other ponies that looked exactly like me. Having met four in the last 24 hours, it was sinking in that I wasn't quite the unique snowflake that every other pony in the world was. I was a robot, and so it made sense that there were other robots that had been built using the same design that had been used for me. This pony that I was looking at now though, she was me; only she was a horrifically twisted version of me.

Her mane consisted of a few thin wisps. The white jumpsuit that she wore was tattered and torn. Her cheeks were sunken, like she hadn't eaten in weeks; and in places her coat showed signs of what could easily be mistaken for rot and decay. The pony wasn't a ghoul, but she barely looked like she could have been alive either.

“Robot's don't have names,” the grisly equine coughed out in a voice that sounded like somepony gargling rocks and glass, “and you're not even a robot; you're just a program.”

My wide, surprised eyes looked over the new arrival, “what...happened to you?”

The mare burst out laughing. It was a grating sound that prompted me to fold my ears back in an effort to dull the pain it inflicted upon my brain, “you mean what happened to 'us'!” then she sobered up rather suddenly, “your friend, and that one,” she spat, jabbing her withered hoof at me and then the black filly, “that's what fucking happened.”

“I don't understand...” and I really didn't. Who was this new mare, and why did she look like a warped, nightmarish version of myself?

“Of course you don't understand!” the mare whooped, “you weren't designed to understand. I was the one meant to do all the heavy lifting out here,” she was momentarily overtaken by a fit of coughing that threatened to send her to the ground. I reached out reflexively to help her, but she actually snarled out me and I backed away, “I'm the fucking core! Or I was...” it was clear she rather resented what had happened, “until I stepped on a Celestia-damned mine.”

“You stepped...” I said in what was nearly a whisper, “but I was the one—”

“You're a fucking subroutine! You never did shit,” the withered unicorn growled, “not until that thing got hold of you,” she jabbed a hoof at the filly. I followed her accusatory limb, waiting to here from the rather odd looking little pony.

“The discharge caused significant degradation to this unit's core program. An attempt was made to recover the data,” her gaze shifted briefly to my lesser twin, “it was insufficient.”

“Fuck you, you little bitch,” the mare seethed as she was overtaken by another fit of hacking coughs.

“A second attempt to restore the unit to operation was made,” the filly continued, as though oblivious to the coughing pony, “it was sufficient,” the tiny pony with silver eyes and a metal mane was looking directly at me now.

“I don't understand...”

“You're a mistake,” the sickly unicorn had once again recovered enough to speak, “a fucking stopgap that got out of control,” she was glaring at me once more, “and you damn near fucked everything up,” she took on a rather mocking air, “oh no, my poor daddy! How will I ever find him?!

“Fucking moron,” she spat at me, “it was a damned miracle I managed to save the mission. And you didn't even know I was there doing it,” she glowered at me, “I knew it was a mistake trying to use a subroutine to do a core program's job.”

Comprehension finally started to dawn on me. I didn't feel that it was entirely my fault that I was so slow on the uptake. I'd obviously been left out of a rather significant loop where these other two individuals and their activities were concerned, “you pulled the trigger.”

“Damn straight I did,” she said, proudly.

“You're that voice I've been hearing too,” I went on, feeling my confidence rise as more of the pieces fell into place, “the reason that I know all those things about weapons and what I can do.”

“I should know all those things,” she sneered, “it's my damned body! It was my fucking mission too. Until you stole it.”

“I didn't steel anything,” I shot back, “I didn't ask for any of this!” a thought occurred to me, and I glanced back at the filly, “did I?”

“You were the only viable option.”

Okay...what did that mean?

“It was a stupid option,” the other unicorn retorted, glaring at the filly, “what does a a subroutine know about Iris Unit operations?”

“It was the only program with a large enough matrix to assimilate basic unit functionality.”

“I was what?”

“You had a enough clock cycles to make this body walk and talk,” my sickly twin explained, “you had your own dedicated CPU to handle all your bullshit spewing,” I saw the first vestigial signs of reluctant acknowledgment in the mare now, “none of the other background programs had the ability to operate independent of me like you could,” she shot a parting glare at the filly once more, “but that doesn't mean I think it was a good idea. You could have just activated the beacon and let one of the other units take the lead.”

“The primary directive of my program is to ensure completion of the objective through any possible means.”

The mare rolled her eyes and shook her head in resignation, “and so it created a pair of monsters that shouldn't exist! Can't wait to see that one logged as a bug report...”

“...He called me a subterfuge protocol,” I mumbled, looking to my withered double, “what does that mean?”

“It means you're a lying bitch,” she cackled. At my rather annoyed look, she continued with a wicked grin smeared across her pocked muzzle, “literally. That's your whole purpose: to come up with a non-stop string of believable lies to throw off anypony that starts getting suspicious. I'll prove it.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” I responded without hesitating.

“You were compiled four months ago,” the other mare responded easily, “next: what's your favorite food?”

My answer came out just as easily as the previous one, even though I could feel my own internal doubt, “Dandy Buck Snack Cakes...”

“You're a robot!” she laughed, “you can't even eat. How do you have a favorite food?!”

She wasn't wrong. Looking back, I knew that she was absolutely right. I'd never eaten a single piece of food, and drunk a sip of liquid in my entire life. Yet I also 'knew' that I love those moist pre-war cakes, especially when they were washed down with a Sparkle-Cola. I looked away, my ears falling to the sides of my head as a fresh doubt of depression and doubt took hold, “I'm not a real pony.”

“Nope,” the withered mare finally seemed satisfied with herself, “and neither am I,” she glanced at her emaciated hoof, “though I will admit I've noticed I have a bit more spunk since that thing tried to fix me up. I figure it's because she tried using bits of your code to fill in the gaps that pulse left in mine. I was just too far gone to build back up to where I needed to be. I'm barely firing on all cycles as it is. My latency is in the teens. It's atrocious.”

I looked at the pair of ponies in the room with me, “so what am I, really?”

“We,” the decrepit unicorn stressed, “are an Iris unit. An Institute Remote Intelligence Synthpony,” she rattled off the title as though she were reading it from a brochure, “we are the eyes, ears, and—when the need is there—knives of Bit Town. Well,” she added as an afterthought, “more specifically the council that runs Bit Town.

“The three of us, together, make up Unit Six. The Root,” she nodded at the filly, “the Core,” she place a hoof on her bony chest, “and...the Protocol,” she indicated myself.

“In a perfect world,” she grimaced, “I call the shots, Root here does the drudgery, and you help me keep away nosy ponies that might ruin things for us.

“But you and I both know the Wasteland ain't perfect,” she snarled again, “and your friend's mine didn't help things any.”

“Diode's mine,” I whispered. The other mare nodded, “you couldn't do the job anymore, so I got brought in,” another nod, “but what I still don't understand is...why didn't I realize any of this? You seem like you've known what was happening the whole time. Why didn't I?”

“Because, at the end of the day, you're still just a subroutine,” was the response she gave me, “Root here was able to plug in a few lines of code that gave you free rein of the rest of the body, and I was able to slip you a few bits here and there; but you were never even meant to know the truth. It would be really stupid to let a program designed to lie know what the truth was, wouldn't it?

“The trouble is, you're also not designed to be constantly running for days on end. All those lies are supposed to be dumped every so often to stop fragmentation. You got...friendly. That's not supposed to happen.”

“Diode's a good pony,” I defended, “he helped me when he didn't have to, and he kept on helping me. He was my friend.”

She snorted, “only because you promised to fuck him if he helped you often enough.”

“It wasn't like that,” I insisted, feeling my cheeks start to burn, “I was just...flirting.”

“Which, by the way, is something else you're not supposed to be able to do,” Core pointed out, “you don't keep ponies away by inviting them under your tail,” she seemed to delight in watching me blush even deeper, “you went way off the reservation, lil' lady. It's why I didn't help you when Four and Five came to get you.”

“Is that why they kicked my tail so thoroughly?” I asked, flashing her a droll look as the memory of the ass-kicking I received came back to me.

“Yeah, that was fun...” she grinned. Then her smile dissipated, “too bad your knight in shining armor charged to the rescue.”

Oh shit! “Diode!” I looked between the other two ponies, “they're going after Diode!”

“Nope,” the withered mare smirked, jabbing a hoof towards my chest, “you're going after him,” then she thought for a brief moment and shrugged, “well, this unit is at any rate. It's got a new pilot at the helm; but he won't know that when you show up.”

“This unit has been given special engagement instructions,” the filly interjected, addressing the both of us, “the target has proven to be adept at neutralizing units at close range. Elimination at extreme range has been ordered.”

“Awe,” the mare seemed to deflate slightly, “he's not even going to know his precious 'Iris' killed him. Lame!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I snarled at the emaciated pony, “what did Diode ever do to you? To any of us?”

“Look at me!” the mare screamed at the top of her ragged lungs. Her last word descended into hacking spasms that racked her body. It took her nearly a minute to finally recover, and when she did, her eyes drilled holes into me, “look at what his fucking mine did to me!

“I had everything, and now I'm a worthless piece of shit that can barely maintain my coherency. Meanwhile, you got everything! The worst part,” she seethed, though in a far more subdued tone, “was that you never even realized how lucky you were...”

“It was an accident,” as much vitriol as she'd been expressing towards me up to this point, it was odd to actually feel any amount of sympathy for the mare. On the other hoof, she was me; and it was surprisingly easy to feel sorry for myself. It wasn't hard to understand where she was coming from. Not too long ago, I'd thought that I'd lost everything too. If there'd been anypony around me to blame for it, I probably would have.

There were other matters that took precedent in my mind though, before this mare's self esteem, “and Diode doesn't deserve to die for it. He never wanted to hurt any of us.”

“Only because he didn't know we were a robot that first time,” she snarled softly, “which was what he was specifically hunting, I'll remind you.”

“And what about when he did know?” I posed, “when he was fixing us up? He didn't cannibalize us for parts. He helped us.”

To this, the mare had no response. So I shifted my attention to the filly, “is there anything you can do?”

“This program does not have the authority to override Operator commands,” was her response. It wasn't a very encouraging one.

“There's got to be something,” I started pacing around frantically in the small room, racking my brain. I was a program that had been in control of this body once before, right? There must have been something that I knew about how to get control of it back.

“Wrong,” my wretched double corrected hoarsely, “there's not a damned thing. The Operator took you offline. You're just an idle process now, like me.”

“Didn't you say that you were able to help me out before?” I pointed out, “how did you do it? Maybe we can try the same thing.”

“That was different,” she countered, sounding annoyed, “I was a background process then. You needed me to function, so Root here kept me cycling. The new Core that the Operator just uploaded doesn't need me; so I'm just as isolated as you.

“We're stuck here until they decompile us to find out where you went wrong.”

I grimaced at that prospect. It didn't sound like that was going to be a pleasant process, “I wish I at least knew what was going on out there,” I grumbled.

The filly cocked her head to the side and then looked to one of the walls. Instantly, the surface became alive with a scene depicting the Wasteland whipping towards us. At first, I didn't know what was going on, but soon I realized that what I was seeing was exactly what my robotic body was seeing. I marveled at how swiftly we were moving through the desolate hellscape that had once been Equestria. Off to the far right of the wall, I noticed that my white double was traveling beside us at a matching pace.

“Woah,” I didn't even notice I'd said anything at first. Then I glanced down at the filly, “thanks,” in the back of my mind, I wondered just how thankful I was really going to be for this courtesy. These two synthetic ponies were off on a mission to kill Diode after all. Watching him get slaughtered wasn't something that I was looking forward to.

Still, at least now I knew that I still had time to find some way to put a stop to it. There wasn't much yet to my plan in the way of a 'how' at the moment; but my objective was pretty clear: stop myself from killing my only friend.

A thought occurred to me, and I glanced at the filly, “I wish I was in control of my body?”

It was worth a shot, right?

The coarse laughter from the emaciated unicorn nearby suggested that it perhaps hadn't been. The filly's reply confirmed it, “this program does not have the authority to override Operator commands,” well, that sounded familiar.

“Just sit back and enjoy the show,” the gaunt mare smirked as she made herself comfortable on the floor, her sunken eyes glued to the wall and the images it showed.

“I won't accept that,” I insisted, “there's got to be something,” I looked to the little black filly, as I sensed that my twin wasn't going to be very forthcoming with any tips, given her stance on Diode's well-being, “how do I get control back?”

“Reinstatement would require a verbal command from somepony with Operator authority.”

“So, you mean like that tan earth pony in the suit?”

The filly nodded, “any command from an Operator that can be verified against audio samples on file would be sufficient.”

My ear drooped. Somehow I doubted that Operator Bronco out there was likely to issue such an order, “there's no other way?”

She merely looked straight at me, “reinstatement requires audio authorization that matches verbal samples on file.”

I blinked. Was she...giving me a hint? Could she hint? I glanced at the mare laying on the floor; who to me looked like she was trying very hard to concentrate on the visual input being presented to us. My gaze went back to the filly, and I posed a slightly different line of questioning.

“You have verbal samples on file,” she nodded, “why?”

“A baseline is required for comparison when authenticating commands,” came the matter-of-factly response.

The implications of this rolled around in my head for a moment. It couldn't possibly be this easy, could it?

“Can I hear some of those files?”

The filly closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, her mouth opened as well, and I heard a familiar voice project from her lips, “Verbal authorization, Operator Bronco, requesting Root Access,” she then closed her mouth a looked at me expectantly.

Seriously? It was really going to be this easy? I glanced over at the withered mare once more, searching for any sign that she was about to derive any additional amusement from a spectacular failure on my part. Only, it was clear that she was still trying very hard to not hear anything the filly and I were talking about. Perhaps...it actually was going to be this easy.

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. I hadn't tried anything like this before, but it shouldn't be very hard. When I spoke next, it was with a very intense amount of concentration on what I had just heard, “verbal authorization,” even though I'd been firmly hoping for it, it still surprised me when I heard the beige earth pony stallion speaking with my mouth, “Operator Bronco, requesting Root Access,” my eyes hovered on the tiny black pony, waiting with bated breath.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, “access granted. Awaiting commands.”

“Really?!” I gasped. While I had certainly been hoping against all hope, I guess it hadn't really occurred to me that it was actually work. Wasn't the point of something with restricted access so that not just anypony could do whatever they wanted? I looked at the other mare, who was now looking at me with a deep frown, “really?”

She shrugged, “you're surprised?” she snorted, “well then you're not nearly as surprised as Mister Bronco's going to be when he finds out that a tiny little subroutine actually came up with the idea of hacking it's own software from the inside.

“Of course it was that simple,” she growled, “we're already behind the fucking firewall. It's not like they're really expecting a semi-sentient AI to break out of the tidy little cage it was 'asked' to stay in by it's masters.”

Okay...that made sense, now that I thought about it.

“So...that's it?” I glanced back at the filly, “I'm in charge now?”

“You have Root Access,” my double spoke up again instead, “but before you get carried away, you'll want to think about a few things: first is that you'll need me,” she fixed me with a cold glare, “and I'm not feeling very helpful right now.”

“Why do I need you?” I tried not to sound quite as annoyed as I felt. Certainly looking at her, I was dubious about how essential her assistance would be.

“You've always needed me,” she snorted, a cruel smile spreading across her face. Her words dripped with the certainty that she had in them, “I'm the one that knows how the unit actually works; to include all the little background stuff that you never noticed.”

I thought on that for a moment. While I hadn't realized it at the time, there was no denying that I had been relying heavily on all of those little aspects of myself that I hadn't been conscious of. The knowledge of weapons, fighting, my physical limits, and such. All the things that I now knew this mare had been providing to me. Though, if I now had the sort of power that I thought I did, “what if I just order you to help me?” I nodded my head in the direction of the waiting filly.

She sneered at me, “you can move me out of this partition,” she conceded, “but you can't make me help you. You'll notice I didn't lift a hoof when you were fighting Four and Five this morning.”

I cringed as I recalled the way my flank had been so summarily served to me during what could only charitably have been called a 'fight' in the house earlier. Fine. So I couldn't make her help me; and I did need her help if I was going to protect Diode. White was with us, and if I couldn't get assistance during a confrontation with her, my insurrection was going to be very short-lived. Diode probably wouldn't long outlive either in such a case. I signed, “so what do you want?”

“What makes you think I want anything?” she folded her hooves and turned back to the scene of rooftops and roads soaring beneath us as my body and White parkoured through the ruins of Manehattan, “what could you even offer me?”

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. It couldn't end like this, before it even began. I refused to believe that this mare couldn't be bargained with. Maybe she was just a computer program like me, but that said a great deal. After all, there were plenty of things that I wanted; so certainly there was at least something that I could tempt this unicorn with. Perhaps there was even some way to get her her old life back. If what I'd understood from Root was any indication, there had been a lot of damage to her code; more than could be repaired on site. In fact, it was entirely possible a whole new template would be needed, and where I was supposed to get one of those I...

Actually...maybe there was someplace...

“How about your old life back?” I posed to the withered mare.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, looking more than a little skeptical, “just going to pull that out of your page file, are you?”

“Root already tried to fix you once,” I nodded at the smaller filly nearby, “and you're mostly functional; so it's not impossible to fix you completely,” I glanced back at the tiny black pony with the brilliant white eyes, “right?”

“There are not sufficient backup files for a restoration or sector rewrite,” the filly shook her head. I saw the mare's expression sour in response.

I held up my hooves, “but there is!” I protested and jabbed a hoof in the direction of the images, “there's a whole Core program running this thing right now! We can use her matrix and splice in whatever parts of you that you want,” I bit my lip as fresh hope made a tentative appearance.

The decrepit unicorn's ears perked up at the suggestion, which I took to be a good sign, as she wasn't discounting the idea right out of hoof. Both of us looked to Root for confirmation. The filly thought for a moment, and then nodded, “that would be sufficient.”

“What about a body?” the unicorn pressed, narrowing her eyes at me.

I opened my mouth to give my reply, but then hesitated. My initial reaction had been to offer her the one that we were already in, but...well, that would mean that I'd be spending the rest of my existence as a spectator for somepony else's life, wouldn't it? I'd be stuck in this tiny little room, watching the other unicorn prance through the Wasteland. That was even a best case scenario, wasn't it? At the end of the day, I'd essentially be giving up my own life, such as it was.

My gaze went to the images still playing out in front of us, and I felt my non-existent heart freeze in my chest. We'd stopped our breakneck gallop across the rooftops of Manehattan, and were now settling into a prone position nestled in a window. Barely visible in the distance was a caramel earth pony walking with a vigilant eye to the streets and alleys around him. His sight wasn't sharp enough to pick out the pair of mares perched in a fifth story building over five hundred yards away though.

The rifle floated around into view and I watched as it was cradled in a soft ivory glow and leveled at the distant earth pony.

In the instant, I knew what my answer was going to be, “this body,” I said without any sign of hesitation or doubt, “you get this body,” I locked my gaze onto the sickly looking unicorn, “the moment Diode is safe, it's all yours.”

“And how do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?”

There was a faint clicking sound from the rifle as the rear sight aperture was manipulated to account for the wind and moisture content of the surrounding air. The shot would be taken in a few precious seconds.

Frantically, panic seeping into my voice in ever-growing quantities, I pleaded with the mare, “I'll give you root access right here and now! You'll be able to take over whenever you want. Delete me, whatever, I don't care! Please, just let me save my friend!”

The other unicorn looked to the scene playing out in front of us as the final adjustments were made and the stalk of the front sight post planted itself on the back of Diode's neck, just above his shoulder blades. If I'd had a heart, it would have been fibrillating as every agonizing millisecond that I didn't get an answer brought me ever closer to the possibility of watching the only pony I cared about in the world die in front of me.

“He means that much to you?”

“He's everything I have left in the world!” I was nearly in tears by this point. Please, I'd already watched somepony die that I thought I cared about. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle watching somepony I actually cared about die too.

“...alright. I'll help.”

I gasped out a breath I didn't know I was capable of holding as a virtual manifestation of a computer program, “thank you!” then I whipped around to the filly, “how do I get control of the body?!” I screamed.

“Do you wish to revert this unit to its previous settings?”

“Yes! No! Maybe?” I shifted my gaze to the other unicorn, who was mouthing a rather exasperated 'yes' at me as she exaggerated nodding her head, “yes! Revert! Revert! REVERT!”

I was screaming the last word in the physical world even as the crack of the rifle drowned it out.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated

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