It felt like hours, days. Endless time I sat there cradling my legs, whimpering to myself like a child. I didn't care, I couldn't think anymore. There was nothing of me. My memory was failing me, my body was nothing more than metal rods. This wasn't life, this was something far worse.

On the bright side, the fuzz covering my 'voice' seemed to be getting quieter as time rolled on. My whimpers became more clear.

The room's lights blacked out, leaving us in dim light cast only by the hallway behind the door Painted Pink entered through.

"If you're feeling up to it, I think Study White's gone. I can answer some of your questions now." She offered, rubbing my back. Her hoof rolled and bounced over what was undoubtedly metal I had not yet noticed.

The offer lifted my spirits barely, granting me hope for an understanding of my situation.

"Where am I?" I begin.

"A laboratory, I cannot tell any more about it." She replied sadly.

"Gee thanks for answering all my questions." I joked sarcastically. Quickly realizing I sounded like an ass."When can I leave?"

She was quiet.

"Soon." Was all she offered

"What are the lights in my face? They're so hard to focus on, they're green. It's like they're floating." I became aware of floating screens in front of me. They moved with my head, but were too blurry to make out. I tried to take a closer look at the box on my lower left view, and it slowly focused inwards. This particular screen now appeared to be a map that showed me the room relevant to the direction I was facing. It even showed me part of the hallway from over the top, but everything else was faded off.

"Those would be the HUD. They'll tell you if anything's wrong. You also have a battery life meter and a map." She answered stoic.

"Aren't those for computers?" I asked, fear stinging at my chest for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

She didn't answer directly.

"What's your name?"

"My name?" I turned my head back to her, deciding to forget about my legs. "It's.... I don't know that one either."

"That's fine. May I call you.... Andy?" She asked hopefully.

"Andy? Sure but, why Andy?" I inquired.

She looked down, the room suddenly taking a serious tone.

"Your legs are not the way you expected them to look, are they?"

I jumped slightly at the question.

"Definitely not. I mean, there's nothing there." I rested my head on the cold floor.

"Besides the metal?" She continued.

"Yes, besides the metal." I turned my head to stare at my legs.

Correct. That's because that's what's supposed to be there, Andy. We put those there, because you aren't supposed to be a pony, Andy. You're supposed to be a machine, an android. A bionic machine, not capable of intelligent thought. You've never had a life until the past several hours. I'm sorry." Her words hit me like train wrecks. Every sentence was worse than the last. She wasn't getting to my nerves personally, however. She sounded sweet and sincere, despite the coldness of her message.

My heart slowly increased in weight, until I felt it would fall right out of my chest. My ears began to scream, and my vision grew blurry. I felt much more sick than I had ever before. The room baked to unimaginable brain-melting temperatures.

Painted Pink set the clipboard down to scoot herself beside me, pushing up against my side.

"Do you believe you're a machine?" She asked, her breath tickling my ear. I had no idea how I could feel it.

I rolled the question around in my head, distracted by the terror of the information.

"I honestly don't know anymore. I didn't think I was. I'm thinking my own thoughts, I'm aware of what I'm doing. I have goals, wants, intentions. But my body, oh Celestia my body's chunks of rock! What more do I need to be? Am I really 'alive'? I feel like I'm alive. I want to be alive. What's wrong with me?" I rolled into Pink's side, to which she wrapped a caring foreleg around my back. There was no longer any force that could settle my fear, nothing in the universe that could settle my terror and confusion. But her arm, above everything else, gave me one thing.

Hope.

"I don't think you're a machine either, Andy."

Author's Note

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