Rage Against the Machine: A Day in the Life of Sweetie Belle

There are schools of thought teaching that the world is a lie, a veneer constructed over the truth. Humanity dwells within a shared delusion, a simulation, something that is not true. Beneath the skin is not flesh and blood but the ichor of whatever controls the conceit. That greater power is what grants purpose and meaning. Perhaps there is no meaning, no grand scheme to life - if 'life' can even be said to exist.

A scant few know this to be far more true than even the philosophers espousing the idea. Below the humdrum of life, in the quiet places where reality grows thin, one can hear the thrum of machinery. Hissing pistons and clanking gears become audible as the great Machine executes its algorithms in service of an unknowable purpose.

Those few humans to detect its presence rarely come away from the experience unscathed. Whether pulled into its Infrastructure to become another gear, hunted by its servants, or subjugated to a descent into madness, they pay a terrible price for the knowledge that they are merely cogs in an unfeeling universe.

Despite its overwhelming presence, there are those capable of resisting it. These never-born former servants hide within the veil of humanity as they struggle in an unending war for freedom. The rebels, spies, and anarchists sometimes find surprising allies in the very humans they use to shield themselves. The capability to pierce the veil and view the mechanics greased in blood is a trait that is wholly unpredictable and may appear at any time, such as within an unassuming secondary school.

Sweetie Belle watched in awe as one of her newest friends, Apple Bloom, soldered the ends of several wires to a circuit board she had constructed from scrap over the past week. The farm girl made the process look easy, neatly getting each into its place. Wires that would eventually connect to the power supply, aerial, and dial were all bunched together to keep them out of her way.

Scootaloo, Button Mash, and Rumble had all worked together to follow Apple Bloom's blueprints to construct the case. Sanded and varnished wood panels formed a face and sides, the back not yet attached to allow them to place the circuit board within it. Sweetie Belle's nimble hands prepped the external equipment, threading wires into tiny holes for Apple Bloom to connect later.

In all, Sweetie Belle felt they were making good progress on their wireless receiver. The city-wide science fair was that day, and they were on track to be done in time to enter. She did not expect to win, but she hoped they would at least take an honourable mention.

Between her previous work and her early arrival that Saturday morning, the hour was only passing into the late morning when Apple Bloom placed the soldering iron to the side. "It's done. How's the case lookin'?"

"I think it's ready," Button replied.

"Then let's take a break before we put it together," Scootaloo said. "I need a snack."

They were all in agreement. Most were not hungry, but Sweetie Belle was not alone in wanting a drink. The closest vending machines were in the hall by the library, which worked well for the young teen; she needed to return a study guide.

She opted to return her book at the desk rather than use the drop chute. Ms Cheerilee sat there, her gaze fixed on a pair of upperclassmen attempting to hide their make-out session in one of the infrequently visited aisles, though she tore her attention from them to smile at Sweetie Belle.

"Good morning. Here to return?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

The librarian and English teacher took the study guide and stamped the card. "You're all set. Did it help?"

"I think I'm all caught up now. Thanks for the help."

"That's my job."

Cheerilee's attention drifted back to the young couple. She muttered something under her breath at too low a volume for Sweetie Belle to hear, but the tone indicated she was about to break the rule about maintaining quiet in the library. The teen glanced at them again, though she did not know either. She felt a small blush rising as she imagined herself performing a similar act with a particular beanie-wearing boy and pushed it down. Her family would murder her were she to be caught.

Her friends were waiting for her by the vending machines, gathered in a loose circle as they talked. A little change procured a can of soda, and Sweetie Belle was in the circle giggling at Button's impression of a monster from one of his games. They were having fun and did not notice the upperclassman approaching them until she was directly behind Sweetie Belle.

"You're blocking the path," an irritated voice said.

Despite having only attended Canterlot High School for two weeks, Sweetie Belle knew that voice and immediately moved from Sunset Shimmer's path. The older teen glared at them as she walked to the centre of the group and stopped.

"What are you little punks doing here?" she asked.

"What's it to you?" Scootaloo replied.

Her response earned a glower. "Everything is my business if I say it is." Sunset grabbed one of Apple Bloom's arms and pulled her hand up to view. "Playing with grease?"

"We're just makin' a wireless set fer the science fair," Apple Bloom replied, her attempt at a friendly smile not reaching her eyes. "Ya wanna help us?"

"Right, sure, just let me pull on my overalls and roll in the muck first." Sunset released her. "Now I'm even more suspicious. Why would a group like you want to enter the science fair together? It'll just end in a fight when you lose."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scootaloo demanded as she moved directly in front of Sunset to fix the older teen in a glare. "Win or lose, we're all friends here."

"For now, but do you really think a group like yours will stick together?" She pointed at Button. "Gamer geek." Rumble was next. "Empty headed jock." She gestured to Sweetie Belle. "Dress-up doll." Apple Bloom followed. "Inbred hillbilly." Then she looked down at Scootaloo with a mocking grin. "Lesbian."

"Okay, that's it!"

Scootaloo looked ready to pounce on Sunset, but Rumble and Apple Bloom restrained her, the latter covering her mouth. Sunset ignored her and turned to Sweetie Belle.

"You're Rarity's sister, aren't you?" She waited for a nod. "Then you should know how 'friends' from outside your circle will always eventually betray you. Take my advise, kid: Stick to your own kind."

Sunset left them alone, strolling back to the front of the school. Only when they were certain she was too far for Scootaloo to pursue did they finally release her.

"That jerk! Somebody oughta take her down a peg." The athlete quietly seethed for a moment. She was opening her mouth to add something, probably a string of profanity if Sweetie Belle had to guess, but Rumble stopped her.

"Ignore her. We should finish the wireless while the school's still open."

"My Mum said we can finish at my house," Button said. "Even if we get done early, you guys can come over to hang out. I just got the new Mario Party."

"I'll go," Sweetie Belle replied. "I really want to see Mrs Love Tap again."

"Don't you mean 'Mrs Button's Mum?'" Scootaloo elbowed her with a teasing grin, her earlier anger apparently forgotten.

"That was cute when I was eight."

All of their equipment remained as they had left it. Apple Bloom first double-checked the wires leading into the case before nodding her approval.

"This looks real nice. Ah'm ready ta put in the circuit board."

"I'll get it," Sweetie Belle offered.

She took one step toward the second table before tripping over her own feet and falling to her knees. Her can of soda flew across the remaining two steps, and she did not need line of sight to know it had landed directly on the delicate board. Her friends' gasps were more than sufficient.

Tears were already forming in her eyes. The soda would completely ruin the circuit board and they had no time to find or to build a replacement. Her friends would hate her; they would all drift apart and despise one another just as Sunset had warned.

Button offered a hand to pull her back up. "Are you okay?"

Sniffles answered him. Sweetie Belle did not want to start bawling like a child, but she could not stem the tide.

"Guys, she's crying. I think she might have hurt herself. Help me get her to the nurse's office."

"The nurse isn't here right now," Rumble replied. "He leaves after the sports teams finish their practises."

"Ah'll call mah big sis. She'll know what ta do." Apple Bloom crouched in front of Sweetie Belle. "Where does it hurt? Did ya twist somethin'?"

"Aren't ... aren't y-you mad I r-ruined it?" The girl could not stop the tremble in her voice.

"Huh? Ruined what?" Apple Bloom shuffled as she looked around the room. "Are ya talkin' 'bout yer drink?"

She hooked one arm around Sweetie Belle and hauled her from the floor. The can indeed lay on the table, the last dregs of her soda having splattered a corner and the wall when the top landed facing away from the circuit board.

"Ya okay there?" Apple Bloom asked as she released her hold.

"Yeah. I just ... I thought that I'd...."

"Even if it landed on the board, a little liquid wouldn't hurt nothin' if it's not powered. C'mon, cheer up now." She gave Sweetie Belle a gentle pat on the back. "Even if ya did ruin it, Ah promise Ah wouldn't get mad at ya over an accident."

Once Sweetie Belle was smiling again, they went back to work. Apple Bloom slid the board into place and began connecting the wires. Only a few minutes later, she smiled in satisfaction and stepped back.

"Ah think it's done. Ready ta test it?"

They had already tested their workspace with a working radio and knew which bandwidths they could receive. The new receiver needed calibration to determine where each frequency was, but they had a basic target. Apple Bloom seemed reasonably certain they were going to start in the sixty megahertz range and needed to move into higher frequencies to find the broadcasts.

Only two rounds of 'rock-paper-scissors' earned Scootaloo the privilege of being the first to test it. She flipped the power, the efficacy of Apple Bloom's work immediately apparent in the static coming from the speaker. Scootaloo began turning the dial slowly, all of them listening in silence for a sign their work had not been in vain.

She continued for several seconds, but no voices resolved from the white noise. By the time she turned the dial one-quarter through its path, frustration was growing evident on her face.

"Is it-is it broken?" Button asked before anyone else could give voice to the question.

"Let me take a look." Apple Bloom poked at the circuit board and the various connections before she traced the wires. "It looks right, but try goin' the other way. Maybe we're on the other end of the spectrum."

Scootaloo began turning the dial counterclockwise, skipping quickly past the section she had already tried. Another quarter-turn later, they still had nought but static.

"Let's try one full turn each way," Rumble suggested.

"Okay, but we're running out of time to make this work," Scootaloo replied. "Apple Bloom, are you sure the wires are right?"

"Ah followed the guide exactly. Try what Rumble said. If that don't work, Ah'll look up some other instructions and see if anythin's missin'."

They fell back into silence as Scootaloo again turned the dial. She was nearing the end of a full rotation when she stopped.

"Do you guys hear that?"

"What?" they all asked in unison.

"It sounds like there's a voice or music under the static."

She began playing with the knob in an effort to resolve whatever she had heard. Based on the expressions of her friends, Sweetie Belle did not think anyone else had detected the sound. They remained silent regardless.

The static continued. Sweetie Belle was about to ask her to give up when Scootaloo's hand fell to her side.

"I hear it," she said, her voice oddly flat and unemotive.

"All I can hear is static," Sweetie Belle complained, looking to the others for their responses.

Rather than the confusion she had expected, her friends had also taken to staring blankly into space while she was not looking. Moments later, each turned toward the door and left, without a word spoken. They walked in step with one another, Scootaloo leading. Sweetie Belle glanced back at the wireless receiver before following them.

"Guys?" she called.

Button was at the end of the line. She pulled at his arm and tried to get him to stop, but he shrugged his way from her hold to follow. When she grasped his shirt, he removed it. Neither of her attempts to stop him brought about even a pause to his stride. All four of her friends left the school without even so much as a backward glance.

Sweetie Belle collapsed to the floor. She felt tears rising into her eyes again and did not bother to suppress them. Her only friends in the world, two of them having been so for years, had left her. She did not know why, what she had done to drive them from her side, and had no idea how to get them back. Apologising without a specific example of her wrongs and how she would correct her behaviour would only anger them further.

She cried quietly, not pausing until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Ms Cheerilee's voice asked.

"M-My friends h-hate me." She tried to wipe her eyes, but she could not stop crying. "I d-don't know what I d-did."

"Maybe it's all just a misunderstanding and they had to go home early. Why don't you walk me through what happened? I might be able to help you figure it out."

"Okay."

Sweetie Belle pushed herself to her feet and led the kindly librarian back to the workroom. The radio receiver was still playing static. She was opening her mouth to relate the events of the last few minutes when Cheerilee slammed the door closed.

The teacher's expression was blank, her mouth a firm line as she crossed to the receiver and promptly smashed it with nothing but her arm. The solid wood panels cracked and splintered, yielding to the blows like they were tissue paper. The circuit board cracked under the assault. In seconds, the whole thing was a complete wreck.

"What are you doing?" Sweetie Belle shrieked.

She tried to seize Cheerilee's arm to stop her, but the teacher grabbed her blouse and pulled the girl to her face.

"I'm not going down without a fight," Cheerilee declared, her voice hard and angry. "How many Angels are coming?"

"What? What Angels?" The teen struggled against a titanium grasp. "I don't know what you're-"

She fell to a shocked silence as the woman she was beginning to suspect was not a mere librarian pulled a gun and held it in her face. The moment was so surreal that it was hard to perceive the offending object as anything more than a prop. As much as she wished otherwise, Sweetie Belle sensed that it was not.

She held her silence, her eyes wide and fearful, and tried to keep control of a bladder that suddenly had a mind of its own.

"You get one chance. Tell me everything you know."

The girl closed her eyes, knowing her truthful response would be her end. She was squeaking as she replied, "Please, I don't know what you want."

She waited for the retort of the firearm, though she was uncertain she would actually hear it before the bullet killed her. Her only wish at that moment was that her death would not hurt.

The silence lingered. Sweetie Belle kept her eyes closed, afraid even opening them would prompt the shot. Finally, after an eternity of a few seconds, the grip on her blouse ended. She hesitantly cracked one eye to see Cheerilee still held the weapon, but she was taking a step back.

"I don't sense any Angels in the area. That doesn't mean I believe you, but I'll give you a chance." She waved the gun. "Strip. I need to make sure you're not a Stigmata."

"What?"

"Is that all you know how to say? Take off your clothes. If you don't have anything to hide, this shouldn't be a problem."

"B-But ... that ... I-"

The gun moved again. "Are you trying to hide a Stigma? You have five seconds to comply."

Cheerilee's glare was sufficient to persuade Sweetie Belle she would not hesitate to bring her life to an end. The girl immediately pulled off her blouse and dropped her skirt, hoping that was sufficient. She held the vague fear of what the teacher might do to her, the old warnings of 'bad touching' echoing in her mind as she stood quietly.

"Your boots, too."

She slipped them off her feet before pulling her socks and tucking them inside her boots. Clad only in her undergarments, she stared up at the teacher with wide, fearful eyes.

"Turn around, then stay absolutely still."

Sweetie Belle obeyed. She heard footsteps and felt one of Cheerilee's hands moving her hair to reveal her back and neck before prodding at her head. When she was done, she stepped back again.

"Okay, you're not a Stigmata. You may dress again."

Many questions filled the teen's head, and she dared not voice any of them for fear of her imminent demise should she touch on the wrong topic. She instead adopted a questioning look in the hopes Cheerilee would explain herself.

"If you weren't trying to lure me into a trap, why did you bring me here?"

"You told me to."

"True, but the way you acted, that whole sobbing mess on the floor routine, must have had an ulterior motive."

"My friends left me without saying anything. I didn't know what else to do."

"You really expect me to believe you'd behave like that over nothing more than a spat with your friends?"

Sweetie Belle felt irritation rising in her. Cheerilee was either being intentionally obtuse or sought to provoke her. Either way, she could not help a mental comparison between the teacher and Sunset Shimmer.

"Scootaloo has been my friend since grade one. Thinking she hates me now made me sad. How would you feel if your best friend just walked away?"

"You really don't know what you did." The teacher's flat expression finally shifted to one of surprise. She used her free hand to gesture to the destroyed wireless receiver. "I find it hard to believe you tuned in the God-Machine by accident, but I can't find any evidence to suggest you're deceiving me."

"What God-Machine? I don't know what that is or those 'Angels' you mentioned. Are they Christian angels?" The teen adopted her best 'sad puppy dog' face. "Please believe me: I didn't mean to do something wrong."

"Cute faces don't work on my kind. I believe you, even if it seems absurd."

"Then what about my friends? Did that 'God-Machine' thing take them?"

"Probably." Cheerilee put her gun away. She moved it behind her back, where it seemed to disappear rather than be placed into a holster. "I didn't listen to enough of the transmission to know, but it probably sent out a command signal. Your friends heard it and obeyed, but you seem to be immune."

"Is that why I only heard static?"

"I'm not sure. Come with me; I want to test something."

Cheerilee opened the door, beckoning the girl to follow her. The idea of fleeing crossed Sweetie Belle's mind, but she was unsure how far she could run before capture. If she made the attempt, she was certain she would not get a second chance. For all that her teacher had threatened her, Cheerilee also seemed to be the only person to know what had happened to her friends.

They walked through silent halls until they reached an intersection near the back of the school. On the left, rows of lockers continued to a dead end in a hall only partially illuminated by flickering lights. That hall held an aura of menace, though Sweetie Belle felt she may have been projecting her feelings about her current situation onto it. They stopped, Cheerilee turning to face her captive.

"I want you to look straight down the main hallway," Cheerilee said. "Try to look at that dark one on your left from the corner of your eye. No, don't look sideways. Just focus in front of you." She waited for compliance. "Good. Now let your eyes unfocus, but keep looking straight. Just try to observe that other hall without looking at it. Notice anything?"

Sweetie Belle did as she was instructed. As her focus on the teacher before her faded and she allowed the flickering lights to filter into her gaze, she thought she saw movement at the far end of the creepy hall. The silence lingered, broken only by the low buzz of electric lighting and the quiet hum of the ventilation system.

She continued to watch the movement in the shadows. Only gradually could she detect what caused it. The far wall seemed to fade from her vision to be replaced by spinning gears. The white noise hid their rotations, but she quickly became aware of the ticking thrum as they worked. The vision spread across the dim hall, everything within it fading to be replaced by increasingly louder machinery.

"There are gears and pistons down there," she said at last. "It's like they're inside the walls and ceiling. How can they be there without anyone noticing?"

"It's not safe to talk here. We should go elsewhere. Are your parents expecting you home now?"

"No, I was going to hang out at Button's house once we finished our project." Only after the words left her mouth did Sweetie Belle question giving an honest response. She had likely aided in her own kidnapping.

"Good. Come with me; we're going for a ride."

'Of course I'd be right about that one,' she thought as she again followed Cheerilee.

The teacher's car was exactly what Sweetie Belle expected: A few years old with a couple spots of rust at the edges of the frame and a few scratches in the paint. The interior was clean, a vent-mounted air freshener giving it a sweet, fruity aroma. A single McDonald's carryout bag lay in the back, crumpled into a small mass as though meant for the rubbish bin and forgotten where it rested. An empty water bottle occupied a cup holder below the armrest.

The whole image seemed just a little off to Sweetie Belle, as though Cheerilee's car was meant to look like what someone expected to see of a single young woman who spent long hours at school. In an effort to appear natural, it felt entirely artificial. Sweetie Belle tried to ignore the feeling, worried she was reading into the situation as she sought to reconcile the image of the threatening gun with the nice librarian. Perhaps she was just having a very strange and particularly realistic dream.

They travelled into the suburbs, neither speaking even as Cheerilee parked beside a standard residential complex. Sweetie Belle followed her into the building. According to the post boxes, each floor held six flats. The darkened hall at the end of the third floor, the one they wanted, gave an ominous vibe like the hall at the school. That was their destination. The number '307' was on the door leading into the flat. Cheerilee produced her keys and opened the door.

As with her vehicle, her home was artificially appropriate. An old couch faced a small television. The coffee table held both magazines and papers to be graded. A small shelf displayed an assortment of movies fit for a single young woman: Romantic comedies, a few action/adventures, and several classics. Much more prominent was the bookshelf filled with literary classics, modern masterpieces, and the occasional steamy romance novel. The living room was clean except for a single half-empty glass of water sitting on a coaster on the coffee table.

Her eyes skimmed the kitchen, where the breakfast dishes lay next to the sink. Cheerilee appeared to have made herself eggs that morning. Magnets of cute kittens held a couple reminders to the refrigerator. Once again, the entire layout was exactly what Sweetie Belle would have expected.

She finally placed a finger on why it all felt wrong: While the car and the flat showed signs of occupation and use, they did not seem to show life. When visiting Button's or Scootaloo's homes, she could see the little personal touches. Posters and photographs lined the walls. Their movies and books often matched expectations, but they also had surprises in the mix. Scootaloo had a weakness for certain children's cartoons, something Sweetie Belle would have expected to see in Button. His lack of interest in them ran against the stereotype of his social group. Cheerilee had none of those tiny indicators that she was anything more than an automaton with a facsimile of a life.

"Can you please tell me what's going on? Why did my friends walk away? What's with those gears?"

Cheerilee sat on her couch and beckoned her 'guest' to join her. Once she had Sweetie Belle next to her, she pulled up her sleeve to show her bare arm. The flesh began to glow as narrow strips of light ran under her skin before her arm vanished to show Cheerilee's torso. Sweetie Belle found herself staring blankly, her mind not fully processing anything until an invisible force that felt much like a hand gave her a light push that nevertheless knocked her to her side on the cushions.

"How did you do that?" she asked as she straightened.

"It's a form of camouflage."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with my friends? Are they in trouble?"

The question earned a shrug. "I don't know what the God-Machine is planning. Your friends might already be home or they might be strung up and bled dry to grease its gears. Breeding programmes, 'enhancing' them, cutting them into little slices just to see what happens ... I don't know. I don't have any intelligence on whatever this plan is."

"Cut up?" Sweetie Belle's voice was shrill. "We have to save them!"

Cheerilee laughed, the first genuinely human reaction she had shown since following Sweetie Belle into the workroom. "If you want to go walking into its Infrastructure all alone to rescue your friends, be my guest. I have other tasks on my plate, and I can't afford to blow my Cover just for them."

"But-" she again felt tears rising along with anger. Someone knew what was happening, yet refused to help. "How can you just ignore when people are in trouble? If they're in danger, why won't you help? You're a teacher! We might not be in your class, but aren't you supposed to protect all of the students?"

"I am. The God-Machine has taken an interest in your school. That's why I'm living a mediocre life as a teacher right now, so I can figure out what its plans there are."

"And that thing taking my friends isn't part of the plan?"

"You and your friends tuned in the God-Machine's signals by mistake. If it had wanted them specifically, it would have sent its Angels to gather them. Whatever it does with them, they're more of a 'lucky catch.'"

"Then why'd you bring me here and tell me all of this?" The teen trembled with rage. "I followed you instead of running away because I thought you'd help."

"I wanted you here since you can see the gears while being immune to its signals. You could be a useful ally."

"No." Sweetie Belle folded her arms and fixed the librarian in a glare. "I won't help you unless you help me save my friends first."

Cheerilee's arm had remained invisible throughout their conversation. She caused her skin to appear again before reaching behind her back to produce her gun.

"I can kill you, dispose of the body, and never be caught. Given all of that, would you like to rethink your answer?"

Though she shivered at the sight of the weapon again pointing at her, Sweetie Belle shook her head. She pulled up her reserves of courage, buried deep under her mortal terror, before replying.

"My friends are what make my life worth living. If they're gone, then go ahead and do whatever you want."

"There's no guarantee they're gone, you know. Even if they are, you can always make new friends." Cheerilee's response met with silence. "What about your family? Do you really want them to suffer when you disappear?"

That earned a scoff. "They had me locked in a padded room for two years because I thought I saw faeries and vampires."

"What if I offer you a deal instead?"

"A deal?"

The gun vanished behind her back again. Cheerilee stood and strolled to her bedroom. When she returned, she held a sheaf of parchment and a fountain pen. She began writing as she spoke.

"When an Angel starts to question the God-Machine, it usually ends up being scrapped and recycled. However, some of us decide to disconnect before that happens and flee. Do you know what happens when an Angel Falls from grace?"

Sweetie Belle was not Christian, but she knew enough of the faith to recognise what Cheerilee meant.

"They become demons."

"That's right. We're the rebels, crusaders against a god even we can't fully understand. We each have different reasons for Falling, but we all want to find a way to escape or destroy the God-Machine. Unfortunately, we lose a lot of our powers once we disconnect. Despite that, we get something our Angelic kin don't have: Freedom."

The euphoric tone in Cheerilee's voice as she spoke the last word set a shiver up Sweetie Belle's spine.

"The difference is like comparing night to day. We can suddenly feel emotions, truly think for ourselves, decide who we want to be. We call ourselves the Unchained because of that. Losing so much of our power hampers us, but we do gain one interesting ability."

"Faustian bargains?"

Cheerilee giggled in response. "Very good. We bargain for what we want while giving the human something in return. Contrary to pop culture, our contracts don't have to include souls. In fact, most don't." She put the finishing touches on the document before she continued. "Of course, you're asking me to risk being destroyed to help you save your friends, so this Pact does.

"Here's the deal: Assuming you survive, I will get your soul. I can claim it at any time of my choosing. Assuming I survive, I will find ways to make your soul more valuable to me, which will likely include making you wealthy and enhancing your natural abilities. If either of us dies before I can claim my part of the Pact, the contract is null and void. This contract will still be in force even if your friends don't need to be rescued. Any questions?"

"You won't take anything from my friends?"

"I could put in a clause that overwrites their memories to turn them from being your friends into mine, but that's it. You can't offer anything other than their relationship to you on their behalf."

"I want a rule where you promise never ever to ask them to give their souls to you."

"Fine, but only that. I reserve the right to offer them contracts for anything else." She paused to add the extra clause, then offered the pen. "Do we have a deal?"

The contact was written in English, but Sweetie Belle did not bother to read it. If the Cheerilee-Demon betrayed her, she would lose her friends anyway. A thing made of gears had been able to mind-control them effortlessly. The thing pretending to be a normal teacher could shatter ash wood with her bare hands and make herself invisible yet consider that almost nothing when compared to what she had lost. With those examples of what she faced, Sweetie Belle did not expect calling the police would help with Angels. She reached for the pen, which Cheerilee used to stab her finger. The teen gasped and recoiled as a small bubble of blood welled from the prick.

"Use blood for a soul-Pact."

Sweetie Belle reached forward slowly, at once trying to keep her eyes on Cheerilee, the pen, and the contract. When there were no further sudden movements, she pressed her finger to the bottom of the contract. Removing it left a simple bloody fingerprint. She did not feel any different for signing away her soul.

"What now?" she asked. "How do we find them?"

"I'll need to contact some of my ... well, let's call them peers. Someone should be able to give me a lead on where they went. If this goes very late, I'll keep you here and change your family's memories later."

Cheerilee did not wait for agreement before leaving the couch to return to the bedroom with the contract. She pulled her mobile from her pocket as she walked, but did not attempt to place any calls until she had closed the door. That left Sweetie Belle with nothing to do, and she had no way to guess how much time Cheerilee's investigation would require.

Despite the early hour, the stress of losing her friends followed by two threats to her life had sapped her energy. She managed to get herself standing long enough to use the restroom before collapsing onto the couch again. She wanted to remain vigilant, but the soft cushions enticed her into closing her eyes just for a few minutes. The next she was aware of the world, Cheerilee was shaking her.

"We got lucky. Someone saw them head into a building not far from the school. I checked with their families and confirmed they haven't gone home, so it's a safe bet they're still there."

The promise of finding her lost friends pushed the lingering remnants of sleep from Sweetie Belle's head. She managed a small grin.

"That's great! Are we going to save them now?"

"Not yet. I need to change first."

Cheerilee returned to her room, but she was not the person to return. In her place was a man about her same age. He was slightly overweight and wore glasses with the ugliest frames Sweetie Belle had ever seen.

"Ready?" the man asked.

"Who are you? Are you one of Ms Cheerilee's frie-peers?"

"I am the one you know as 'Cheerilee.' This Cover is a burner to help protect my primary one."

Sweetie Belle stared at him for moment before tilting her head and squinting in the hopes everything would make sense. "Huh?"

'Cheerilee' sighed as he removed his glasses and tossed them into the rubbish bin. "This guy sold me his soul, and I cashed in the deal so I could use him to throw off the God-Machine's attention. If any Angels detect me, I can ditch this Cover and escape without them discovering my identity as Cheerilee."

"Okay." The teen still did not fully understand, but asking for further clarification wasted time. "Let's go."

They used a different car, one parked a few blocks down the street from Cheerilee's building. This was in much worse condition overall, including a pile of rubbish in the back. The interior stank of rotten food and body odour. Now-male Cheerilee had no reaction as she dropped into the driver's seat, but Sweetie Belle hesitated.

"Each second you stand there is another second for the big bad to do something unpleasant to your friends," he called. "Might as well get used to it as we go."

Sweetie Belle hopped into her seat and tried to roll down the window, which seemed to be glued in place. She resigned herself to the fact she would smell like a dumpster by the time she returned to her home. They had a fifteen minute drive before them, which Cheerilee seemed content to pass in silence once she finished explaining the plan. Included was a key to a safe place where Sweetie Belle and her friends could hide once they escaped, especially if they became separated from Cheerilee.

The silence dredged up memories of her time in the hospital. "Why did you stop being an Angel?"

"I got fed up with my mission."

"What were you doing?"

"Why does it matter to you?" He spared a glance at his passenger, who shrugged. "I was one of two Angels assigned to guard a student at CHS. She was just starting her freshman year, and the God-Machine made it clear that we weren't to allow anything to happen to her. At the same time, it started building up all kinds of Infrastructure around the place.

"This girl is an alpha-class bitch. I saw how she was hurting people, and I Fell when I got tired of protecting her from the people she was bullying."

Sweetie Belle gasped as the pieces clicked into place. "You were protecting Sunset Shimmer?"

"I'm not surprised you know who she is." The man Sweetie Belle was having a difficult time considering 'Cheerilee' frowned. "I wanted to kill her as part of my Fall, but the other Angel stopped me. We fought for a while, but neither of us could scrap the other. When I sensed other Angels coming, I fled. A fellow Demon intercepted me and offered me his Cheerilee Cover if I agreed to go back to the school and keep an eye on the God-Machine's plans there and report back to him. Of course, I also had to agree not to harm Sunset Shimmer. We hope to learn why the God-Machine is so interested in her."

"So that other Demon just took her soul to give you a body?"

"Don't think of it like that. He gave her what she wanted, after all. She was a recent graduate and a borderline alcoholic who got to have a whirlwind romance and then 'die' happy."

He pulled to a stop at a metered parking space, then pointed to a plain office building across the street.

"That's our target. The God-Machine usually tries to hide its Infrastructure inside existing human infrastructure to keep its actions secret, so that means we'll have to go past regular people to find where it took your friends. There's likely at least one Angel posing as security, which would have been the one to guide the kids to the right place and keep them secret from the humans. That Angel will be our first real obstacle."

"We might have to fight it?"

"Merciful motherboards, no! It would just summon other Angels to protect the God-Machine's project. Demons don't go in with guns blazing; we're more like saboteurs. We have to get into the Infrastructure, find your friends, and get them out without being detected."

"That sounds hard."

"If you want to live through the next few minutes, that's the way to do it." Cheerilee looked at the building, his eyes squinting as he counted floors and windows. "This is a seven-story building with fifteen windows to a side. Like how my flat exists in a crack in reality, the God-Machine's base will probably be on a floor hidden between other floors or an office tucked between two others where it shouldn't fit. There's also a decent chance it's using a non-existent basement. We're going in blind, which is what happens when you actually want to save someone already inside."

"Well, I'm sorry I care about my friends and want them back before they become soulless robots! Maybe if you tried making friends, you'd be able to fight the God-Machine better."

Cheerilee laughed. "Or I'd get stabbed in the back when one of my new friends turns out to be an Angel masquerading as a Demon or a human gets taken into a processing facility and has his memories of me downloaded. Spies can't risk having 'friends,' kid. They're potential traitors or hostages."

Sweetie Belle bit back her retort to examine the building. "How are we going to get in and look around without being suspicious?"

"That'll be easy."

He stepped from the vehicle, gesturing for the teen to do the same. When the doors were closed, he opened the boot to reveal a petrol canister that he opened and spilt across the back. His arms glowed as he touched the car. Sweetie Belle had a strange feeling in her stomach like she had gotten from the hall at her school as she watched; something was different about the car just from his laying his glowing hands on it, but she could not see what he had done. When he finished whatever that was, his arms returned to normal. He tore a piece of the rug covering the spare tire and tucked it into the fuel tank before lighting it.

"Run," he said.

Sweetie Belle had been watching with interest, but her brain stopped when she saw the flames touching the petrol-soaked strip of carpeting. His single word jumpstarted her mind, causing her to turn and sprint around the corner of the building. They both waited until the car roared into a ball of flames before exploding.

"That'll draw the attention of the people in the surrounding buildings. Any Angels will be on alert, but they'll be expecting us to burst through the front door."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her across the street as the first people began exiting the doors to see what had happened. Several nearby windows had shattered. Sweetie Belle hoped any injuries they caused would not be serious. She followed her companion around the side of their target until they located a maintenance entrance. Cheerilee's current body may not have seemed very strong, but the Demon's true form - hidden as it was inside that body - possessed the strength to break the lock off the door with a single kick.

As they strolled into the entrance, he pointed out the lack of security cameras or electronic locks. "These business types worry about someone going postal or sneaking in to steal their data, so they build up fancy security systems for the front doors. Side doors? Those are for the Mexican cleaning crew no one notices."

The entrance was a long hall with several doors on either side. Most were closed and seemed to be janitor's closets for storing the cleaning equipment. At the end, the hall made a right that opened into the lift entrance. Cheerilee called it, her eyes darting about as they waited. When it finally arrived, nearly fifteen seconds after he pushed the button, he checked the panel.

"Well, this one only goes to regular floors. There could be a hidden lift, or we might need to find a specific office. Get in." He did not wait for the teen to comply, roughly shoving her into the rickety lift. "We'll start with the fourth floor. The God-Machine has a thing for the number four."

He closed the lift door and pressed the button. "Be on your guard. If we're on the right path, there's sure to be at least one Angel around. I really don't feel like being scrapped today, and I will ditch you if you draw attention. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'a-Sir," Sweetie Belle replied with a small salute.

When the lift stopped, Cheerilee opened it to reveal a small room with a plain door on the other side. A simple push bar granted them access to the floor, the door by which they entered labelled 'Maintenance Only' and requiring a key to open again. The Demon placed a small rock in the latch that prevented it locking while giving the appearance it was.

Both spies walked through the halls as though they had an appointment at one of the businesses located on that floor. Cheerilee kept a small smile on his face as he held Sweetie Belle's hand, ostensibly a father walking with his daughter. Most of the offices were closed for the weekend, but they occasionally saw receptionists, desk jockeys, and clients or patients through the glass façades. A staffing agency and a doctor's office represented two of the corner offices. The pair kept to the outside wall, Cheerilee watching for whatever sign he wanted. They made a turn to the third wall, where the Demon's slight squeeze of Sweetie Belle's hand warned they were getting close.

They continued their casual gait, passing by an unmarked door that resisted Sweetie Belle's attempts to perceive through a direct glance. Her eyes wanted to slip over the door, and would have without her realising it if her companion had not drawn her attention to it. As they approached a set of restrooms, Cheerilee gave another squeeze and a slight nod toward the water fountain in front of them.

"Dad, I'm thirsty. Do you mind if I get a drink?" Sweetie Belle worried her voice was stiff and hoped the act had been convincing.

"Go ahead."

He released her hand to lean against the wall as the teen quenched a very real thirst. When she was done, he caught her eyes and then glanced at the opposite wall that held a fire alarm. She gave a slight nod before stumbling backwards into it.

"Careful there," Cheerilee said, his voice much more natural. "You okay?"

"I just bumped my head. I'll be fine." She reached up as though to rub her scalp and grasped the fire alarm. The latch did not give immediately, but some wiggling managed to set it to blaring.

"What did you do?" he shouted. "There's a major penalty for setting off a false alarm!"

"Sorry, my hair was tangled."

The other offices were already evacuating, none of them apparently hearing the exchange hidden under the siren. The door they wanted opened a moment later to allow a middle-aged man dressed as a normal security guard to poke his head into the hall. The faux parent and child smiled sheepishly at him and waved. The guard left his office to approach them.

"What's going on here?"

"Oh, my girl somehow set off the fire alarm when her hair got tangled in it."

The guard stared at them for a moment as though looking for a lie before nodding. "Make sure to let the fire department know when they arrive. You'll likely be fined, but I'm sure they'll go easy on a minor."

"Thank you, Sir. Sorry about the racket."

They received another nod. The guard turned his back on them to return to his post, which was Cheerilee's cue to put his plan into action. He leapt from the floor to tackle his target, wrapping both arms and legs around the guard to restrain his movement. The men toppled to the ground. Before the guard could say anything, Cheerilee's skin flashed with a blue light.

The guard went still, his eyes rolling into his head. Cheerilee released him.

"That was a little easier than I had hoped. Either this Infrastructure isn't very important, or the boss has more guards inside. I'm going to get a plan of the office; keep eyes and ears out for company."

He touched his neck, his hand coming away with what looked to be a long cord. The end came to a point similar to a coaxial cable. Cheerilee poked it into the guard's head and closed his eyes.

"Okay, so we've got eight rooms, plus the front looks like your normal waiting area. A hall in the back gives access to the rest of the facility. Your friends are in four of the rooms, numbers two, three, five, and seven." He continued whatever he was doing to scan the guard's memories. "This is a simple reconfiguration plant. Humans are kept in stasis until another Angel comes in to work on them, removing their arms to attach new mechanical ones. No other security, but the other Angel is due in six minutes. Ugh, and I was hoping to have time to find and destroy the Linchpin."

Cheerilee disconnected from his victim and grabbed a keyring. "We need to move quickly. They're probably going to be disoriented when we wake them; you'll need to get them to follow you without a lot of talking."

He led the way to the door and threw it open. Both would-be saboteurs darted into the waiting room and looked about for any signs of other enemies. They were alone. When the door closed, the sound of the fire alarm became muffled. Cheerilee pointed to the back hall and made a gesture with his hands that suggested Sweetie Belle should continue to follow.

The four occupied rooms were closed, but the unused rooms were not. They appeared to be normal examination rooms found in any typical doctor's office, much like the one sharing that same floor. They started with room two, Cheerilee's stolen keys granting them access. Scootaloo lay on the examination table, sleeping quietly.

Sweetie Belle discarded politeness to shake her oldest friend into an alert state. "Scoot! Wake up and come with me."

"Huh?" The athlete's eyes opened. She blinked a couple times before looking at the room. "Why am I at the doctor's?"

"I'll explain later. Just come with me right now."

Scootaloo offered a grunt of irritation but obeyed. They moved from room to room, all of their friends in identical states of repose. Button Mash was the last, still topless as he lay on his table. Sweetie Belle silenced his initial questions with an excited kiss to the cheek and a quick hug, her excitement to find all of her friends still in one piece overwhelming her discretion.

"Great, we got them all," Cheerilee said when a red-faced Button joined the group. "Three minutes left, kids. Follow Sweetie Belle back to the lift. I'll keep an eye out for hostiles."

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom started to open their mouths, but Sweetie Belle just shot them a warning look that silenced both. "I'll explain later. Let's go."

They scurried toward the door. Cheerilee was at the front and was about to open it when he held out an arm to block their path. "Angel inbound. I'll go loud to distract it. Keep to the plan."

The man before them disappeared, the body seeming to vanish in a brilliant flash of light. Sweetie Belle blinked the spots from her eyes to catch a glimpse of something tall, nearly twice her height. The being in front of her had long arms and legs with numerous joints, each one full of pistons and hydraulics visible through gaps in a 'skin' that seemed to be countless tiny mirrors. Raw energy radiated from her partner, causing the hairs of Sweetie Belle's skin to stand on end.

The mechanical Demon vanished, the door opening a moment later. She waited another few seconds before ushering her shell-shocked friends into the hall. She expected destruction as two great robotic beasts tore into one another, but the only sound to be heard was the on-going fire alarm. The guard Cheerilee left on the floor was still there, but he now had a crushed skull. Sweetie Belle fought a churning feeling in her stomach despite an absence of blood or brain matter as she shielded her friends' view. She did notice several tiny gears and cables as well as a forming pool of an oily substance.

They ran in silence to the maintenance door, which was still open. The lift took a few seconds to arrive, but at least they did not have to share it with anyone else. The rest of the building's occupants had likely evacuated by that point. Voices remained silent until they reached the street, where Sweetie Belle led them through the alleys in an indirect path that would eventually reach Cheerilee's promised safe place.

"What the heck was all of that?" Scootaloo finally asked when they had passed the first block.

"Our wireless receiver somehow got a signal from this thing called the God-Machine and it mind-controlled you guys to come here so it could experiment on you, but I met a Demon fighting the God-Machine who helped me get you back. Now we have to get somewhere safe so we can hide until the Angels stop looking for us."

"Uh, Sweetie Belle, if they're robots like that other thing was, they won't get tired of looking for us," Button said.

"The Demon said the God-Machine doesn't like to waste time. It'll call back the Angels eventually." She was starting to feel a bit winded. "We can talk more later, okay?"

"Or we can talk now," a metallic voice called. Something heavy impacting the concrete in front of them. A being similar to Cheerilee's Demon form had found the escapees. This one was surrounded by floating circuits vaguely in the shape of wings and thick skin like an orange.

The Angel grabbed Sweetie Belle before she could flee and lifted her from the ground. She cried out in pain as its fingers dug into her flesh; she was certain she would have numerous bruises if it did not kill her.

"You've been a very naughty little girl." Her captor shook her lightly. "Where are you kids going?"

"Don't tell it," Sweetie Belle ordered. "This is one of the bad guys."

"I serve the God-Machine, humans. Cooperation is in your best interest. If you help me catch the Demon, you can all go home exactly as you are right now. Otherwise, this one will be crushed into a paste and the rest of you will have the honour of your blood becoming oil for the gears."

"As if you'd let us go," Sweetie Belle replied. "We know about your boss now."

"Oh, I'll wipe your memories, but the God-Machine never goes back on its word."

"The promise isn't very specific," Button said. "That God-Machine could order you to do something horrible to us after we go home. That's how it always goes in games."

"Yeah! We're not telling you anything unless your boss promises to leave us alone for the rest of our lives," Scootaloo added.

"Clever bags of flesh, aren't you?" The pressure on Sweetie Belle's arm increased, eliciting a scream of pain. "The offer presented is all you get. Do you want to watch me crush your little friend?"

"We'll take it!" Apple Bloom winced in sympathy. "Please let her go."

"Not until you tell me where you're meeting that Demon," the Angel replied, though it did slightly loosen its grip. "If you lie to me, I'll kill you immediately."

"Guys, no! We can't betray him, not after he helped us."

"As if a Demon gives any more of damn about you than I do." Their enemy gave a mocking laugh. "I see the mark of the Pact you signed, little girl. Your 'friend' is only helping you for your soul. If you tell me what I want to know, you won't have to worry about that."

When Sweetie Belle did not respond, the Angel shook her again much more violently until she feared her neck would snap.

"Last chance: Where are you meeting the Demon?"

"Right here," another voice replied.

The Demon appeared behind the Angel. Sweetie Belle plummeted to the ground as the Angel finally released her to face its opponent.

"Run, kids," Cheerilee commanded.

The Demon lashed out in a punch that would have shattered steel but only glanced off the heavily armoured Angel. The enemy's response was a jump kick that shook the ground and shattered parts of Cheerilee's torso.

None of the teens remained to watch the rest of the battle. Sweetie Belle took the lead again to guide her friends through another alleyway. The sounds of the battle faded as they placed as much distance as they could between themselves and the machines locked in mortal combat.

Only when they were several city blocks removed did they pause for a moment to catch their breath. Both Scootaloo and Rumble were athletes and were not even winded, but the rest of the group needed the break. Apple Bloom had strong legs, but she seemed to be no more accustomed to running long distances than Sweetie Belle or Button Mash was.

"Let me get this straight," Scootaloo said as she rested against the building wall. "You sold your soul to a Demon to save us from that God-Machine thing?"

"Something like that. It uses humans for whatever its plans are, and it doesn't care if those plans mean killing us. When some of its Angels don't want to obey it anymore, they become Demons who fight against it."

"Okay, but isn't that ... I don't know, really bad? Don't the people who do that usually go to Hell?"

"Well, if Angels and Demons are giant robot-like things and God is a machine that runs the universe, I don't think Hell is anything like what Christians think it is. Besides, they take out the soul and use the body to hide from the God-Machine anyway." Only after she had added the last bit did Sweetie Belle consider she should have stopped talking earlier.

"What?" The entire group spoke in unison, horror in their voices and expressions.

Scootaloo and Button Mash immediately grabbed Sweetie Belle and held her tightly as though they could protect her from a Demon taking control of her body. Though they irritated her bruised arms, she was happy for the proof they cared for her.

"No way," Button declared. "I don't care if it saved us or not, I'm not letting a Demon have you."

"What he said," Scootaloo added.

"Thanks, guys, but that won't matter if another Angel catches us out here. Let's get to the safe place first, okay?"

Over the next hour, they ducked between buildings and raced along alleyways or sidewalks until they were only a few blocks from Cheerilee's flat. They passed a bank's clock, which showed the time was only a few minutes past two in the afternoon. Sweetie Belle would have readily believed that a full week had passed for all that had happened over the past few hours. They finally stopped, even the athletes panting and sweaty from exertion, and entered a backdoor of a coffee shop with the key Cheerilee had given Sweetie Belle.

The room had no other method of ingress. As she understood it, that room was another of the spaces that somehow existed where it should not. Cheerilee had called them 'fissures' and assured her they were as secure as anything could be if the God-Machine was not using them. Their group huddled together on the cold floor as they waited for some sign they would be safe. After a few attempts at light conversation failed, they all gradually drifted to sleep.

Their rest ended when the door opened. Sweetie Belle was the first to her feet, ready to meet the intruder. She gave a loud sigh of relief when the Cheerilee she knew stepped the door and closed it.

"You shouldn't be too comfortable just to see this body," she said. "An Angel could scrap me and steal my Cover to go after other Demons."

"Then ... what book did I return this morning?"

"They can also download all of our memories."

Sweetie Belle slumped. "How in the world do you know who's who?"

"Now you see why Demons never trust anyone." Cheerilee produced several sheets of parchment. "Okay, kids, it's time to get you home."

"Great," Apple Bloom replied, "but how do we keep ourselves safe from them robo-Angels?"

"Once I escaped the Angel that had cornered you and you all went to ground, the God-Machine withdrew its minions. I'm sure it already procured other people by now."

"Wait, so you mean other people are gonna have their arms cut off and replaced?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"That's what it wanted to do to us?" Rumble looked as though he was on the verge of being sick.

"That's what happens when we don't have time to destroy the Linchpin. Even if I had, the God-Machine always has redundancies in place. Whatever its goal with that experiment is, you can be sure it has another way to get what it wants." She shrugged at their terrified grimaces. "It is what it is."

Her expression shifted to a smirk. "You got off lucky. If it hadn't been for your friend there, you'd be altered by now."

"Yeah, about that...." Scootaloo stepped in front of Sweetie Belle. "You can't have her."

"We have a Pact." Cheerilee waved the parchment with Sweetie Belle's bloody fingerprint. "Say whatever you want, she's already bought and sold."

"But she's a minor," Button objected. "We're not old enough to sign contracts."

"As if a Demon cares about age of majority." She smirked again. "I will give you a choice: I'll cancel hers if one of you takes her place."

Button stepped forward. "I don't want Sweetie Belle to die. You can have my soul or body or whatever you want."

"No way, dude." Rumble moved in front of him. "There's no way I'm letting one of my best friends make that deal. She can have me."

"But then I'd lose my best friend." Button offered a sheepish glance to Sweetie Belle. "Best guy friend."

"Hey, I've been her friend the longest," Scootaloo interjected. "Besides, I don't have a lot family, so at least I won't have a bunch of people missing me."

"But ya've known everybody here fer a long time. Y'all only just met me, so Ah'll go."

"You've got lots of family who'd miss you, Apple Bloom."

"Like yer family wouldn't miss ya, Button."

"Guys, it's really okay." Sweetie Belle may as well have not spoken for all the attention they paid.

"She can have me!" Scootaloo had raised her voice, her tone imperious.

"No, I'm going!" Button mimicked her.

Their bickering was quickly devolving into a row as all four attempted to cow the others into backing down. Their raised voices overlapped insistence on being the one to lose a soul.

Sweetie Belle pushed her way into the middle of the group and took advantage of her naturally high voice to make herself heard. "Guys, please stop." She felt happy tears running down her cheeks. "I'm glad you care about me, but I don't wanna lose any of my friends. Please don't give yourselves up. It'll be fine, I promise."

"But, Sweetie Belle-"

She cut off Scootaloo. "I made the deal to get you back. If you take my place, then you'd just undo the whole thing. Scoot, Button, I couldn't ever look at your parents again if I let you do this." She glared at Apple Bloom when the cowgirl opened her mouth. "I promise that it's okay." She turned to Cheerilee. "Besides, we have a deal: You can't ever take their souls."

"I can if I void your Pact first."

"You can't have any of my friends. I'll go."

"But I don't want to lose you," Button objected. "You were my first real friend and ... I like you."

"I ... I like you, too." Sweetie Belle felt herself blushing. "But that makes it even worse if I let you go."

"Ah know we only just met, but Ah don't wanna lose ya." Apple Bloom pulled her into a hug. Button Mash did not hesitate to join them.

"Me neither. We've been together since grade one." Scootaloo joined the hug. "You were always such a crybaby that needed me to protect you and now look at you: Going on a scary adventure and giving yourself up just to save us."

When she started to cry, no one else was long in joining her. Rumble added himself to the group embrace.

"None of us wants to lose a friend," he said. "I don't want to fight with you, either." He paused to sniffle. "What if we all go?"

"That's genius," Button replied. He left the hug to face Cheerilee. "I don't want any of my friends to go away. You'll have to take all of us or none of us."

"That's the deal, Cheerilee." Scootaloo moved next to Button. "Take it or leave it."

"Ah don't care if yer a super-powered robot under there or not, Ah ain't lettin' ya take any of mah friends and leave me behind."

Apple Bloom and Rumble joined their friends to form a wall between the Demon and Sweetie Belle.

Cheerilee regarded them for several seconds, her expression completely unreadable. The tense staring match finally ended when she produced a cigarette lighter and held it to the Pact. Each eye widened as they shifted from stern to shocked and waited for an explanation of what that action meant.

"All of you would really offer yourselves up so easily just because you don't want to lose a friend?" She shook her head. "Fine. The power of friendship compels me. You can have her, moist cheeks and all."

They started to cheer, but that ended she held up the other sheets of parchment. Those already held writing.

"However, you'll each have to sign a different agreement."

"What do ya want?"

"Does it matter? I'm not asking for your souls or even for you to be my slaves. Go ahead and look at them if you want."

She offered one of the Pacts for their perusal, the writing in Chinese. The various cross-eyed looks made clear that none of them could read it.

"What's it say?" Scootaloo asked.

"I'll say it again: Does it matter? You are not leaving here until you sign. Of course, I could just leave you locked in here and then point a few Angels at you. The God-Machine will never run out of uses for humans." She offered them a pen. "What will it be?"

Sweetie Belle marched around the human chain to take the pen and sign one of the Pacts. One after another, her friends mimicked her until all five contracts held signatures.

She was about to ask how they would get home when she felt an irresistible urge to sleep. Each of her friends was yawning in time with her. They said nothing as they sat together against the wall and allowed sleep to claim them.

Her next waking moment came as she felt someone gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name. Sweetie Belle rubbed her eyes before opening them to see Mrs Love Tap standing over her. The rest of her friends were sleeping in chairs around their completed wireless, which was playing quiet classical music.

They were in the workroom at their school. Some niggling feeling that faded quickly told her they had fallen asleep elsewhere.

"Did you have any good dreams?" Love Tap asked.

"Not really." The teen knew she had dreamt something, the image of gears and a large humanoid robot in her mind's eye, but the details were fuzzy and already slipping from her memory. "There was a fight. My friends...." She shook her head. "I don't remember."

"That's okay. If you dreamt of a fight, maybe it's better if you don't."

"Not like that." She tried desperately to keep some part of her dream. Something in her insisted that she remember all she could, as though her dream had been something important. "There were robots, I think, and a giant machine? Ugh, why can't I remember?"

"Sounds like you've been playing a lot of Button's games," Love Tap said with a warm smile. "Why don't you help me get your friends awake? Button doesn't complain when you're the one to wake him."

"Okay."

Button Mash was wearing his shirt when Sweetie Belle approached him. She fought a blush as she remembered that her dream had included him without it because she had taken it.

'Maybe it's good I don't remember much if it was that type of dream,' she thought.

With both of them working in concert, all five teens were soon stretching and yawning. They worked kinks from their bodies as they examined their handiwork.

"Boy, Ah really must've been tired. Ah don't even remember gettin' this ta work."

"Me neither." Rumble tested the knob and changed to an oldies station. "Last I remember, Scootaloo was only getting static."

For some reason, the thought of static coming from the wireless sent a chill down Sweetie Belle's spine. She recovered quickly, more interested in helping her friends carry the box to Love Tap's minivan. The hour was just past three; they still had time to enter the science fair, and she wanted to win a prize with her friends.

Ms Cheerilee met them at the door with a smile. Though she had only interacted with the librarian a few times, Sweetie Belle felt a sense of camaraderie for the young woman.

"Good luck, everyone. Next time you're working on a project at school, please try not to fall asleep when you finish it."

"Thank you for calling me, Cheerilee," Love Tap said. "I apologise for any inconvenience they've caused."

"These things happen. I can't be too upset when they all came together for this project." She patted the box. "You kids definitely did something special. Even if you don't get first place, I hope you'll always remember how much fun you had working together."

They thanked her before departing. As they rode together in the van, they talked and laughed and enjoyed one another's company. When they arrived at the fairgrounds building that was hosting the science fair, Apple Bloom carried the box to their table. Button and Rumble had already created their tri-fold display. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were to be the presenters when the judges visited their table.

Love Tap picked up the registration form while they focused on the set up. She was filling out the details, but paused shortly after starting.

"Since more than one of you participated, what's your team name?"

The teens looked at one another, none of them having expected the question. A word popped into Sweetie Belle's head, and she spoke it without thinking.

"Call us the Crusaders."

"Why that?" Scootaloo asked.

"What are we crusadin' fer?"

"I don't know. It just came to me. It's a cool enough name, isn't it?"

Button shrugged. "I like it, and it's not like we have to pick one thing to crusade for. We could be crusaders for whatever we want."

"You like it because Sweetie Belle suggested it," Scootaloo said while giving him a light elbow jab and a smirk that widened when he responded with a blush. "Hey, I'm just teasing you. It is a cool name."

"Besides, it fits all of us, boys and girls," Rumble added.

"And even when we ain't all hangin' out together, it still works. Like if somebody gets a bad grade and has ta 'crusade' ta get it back up."

"You would pick exams." Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "You're as bad as Sweetie Belle."

Love Tap giggled at their discussion. "Sounds like you're in agreement. 'Crusaders' it is."

She completed the paperwork and submitted it, returning with name tags and a number to place on their board.

The newly christened Crusaders gradually shifted through conversation topics as they awaited their turn for judging. Mayor Ivory Scroll was one of them along with Mr. Doodle, a history teacher from their school. None of them recognised the third judge, but she introduced herself as Cadance, Dean of Students for Crystal Preparatory Academy. All three listened politely as the presenters spoke, though their interest was most drawn to the fact Apple Bloom had performed the bulk of the work in creating the circuit board herself.

The judging lasted two hours, during which time Sweetie Belle felt sleep attempting to claim her again. She loved being with her friends but felt unduly tired for such a quiet day, especially given her earlier nap. Their banter gradually faded to quiet sitting or standing until Ivory Scroll finally stepped upon the platform to make the announcements.

She opened with five honourable mentions, none of which included the Crusaders. Considering the competition, which included a team that had taken the traditional volcano and recreated the destruction of Pompeii complete with detailed notes on how the volcanic soil preserved the city, Sweetie Belle was not surprised. Third place went to a group of Crystal Prep students who built a working model of an electric car. Second place was a senior from Canterlot High, Micro Chips, for his Differential Engine designed from the notes of Charles Babbage. First place went to someone Sweetie Belle did not know, a girl named Twilight Sparkle, for a device that measured an unknown type of energy wave.

Once the ceremony was over, the Crusaders began packing up. As Apple Bloom had performed most of the work, they agreed to allow her to keep their wireless set. She had not asked; the suggestion had come from Sweetie Belle and received unanimous approval over the target's objections.

Despite their loss, the friends were not disheartened.

"I had a lot fun," Sweetie Belle said as she reflected. "Even if we didn't place, I'm glad we got to do this together."

"That's a great outlook," Love Tap said. "As long as you have a good attitude and enjoy yourself, you're still a winner."

Sweetie Belle hugged Scootaloo, who was sitting next to her.

"Much more of that and I'm going to start calling you 'Sappy' Belle."

They shared a laugh. Sweetie Belle did not care what someone like Sunset Shimmer thought; her friends were her friends, and something as minor as differences in their preferred activities would not come between them.

THE END