Aria had learned that she absolutely detested not having control over her own body and fate.

It had been, at least by Aria’s assumption of how time works, at least a day since she’d been locked into a dark room in Ponyville’s town hall. Her body had been separated from her, taken to who knows where leaving her with just her core and smaller limbs to explore the cramped space.

The first thing she’d tried once she was sure nopony would barge in was to try and weasel the lock open or pry apart a corner of the door. Unfortunately for her, while her smaller limbs afforded her the strength to balance her head above her core, they didn’t have the strength or durability to do much to the heavy wooden door, as the awkward dent and bend in one leg could attest to.

She also lacked many options to help her. There were no tools or chemicals, just stacks of papers, some ink bottles, and quills. It gave off the same vibes as part of Sunset’s desk. Not that Aria could glean any information from the texts available to her. She’d mostly only been able to figure out the squiggles at the top right of a few represented dates, but she had no reference points for the numbers.

All that investigating took up maybe a quarter of her time there, and the rest had been left for her to ruminate, to stew in her frustration over getting caught.

And for her anger over Selene to bubble up inside her—not just because Selene had been her captor but because she’d frozen up when she first laid eyes on the mare and then again once she’d been caught.

After that, Aria had been paraded through Ponyville like a prize. She’d thought better of scrambling free of her magic grasp, assuming that would only worsen her fate. The dejected act did mean she got a calmer ride to the town hall to see the guards posted there. Even more had arrived, forming a cordon around the structure that kept the town’s thickening crowds a few yards away from the walls.

This also meant that even if Aria could get out of her closet, there wasn’t hope of getting too far past the dozen watchful eyes beyond.

Very little sound made its way through the door, as did little light. She caught glimpses of shadows passing by, little snippets of conversation, but not much else. It felt odd that she’d been shut in and left alone by her captor.

Perhaps that meant they were after the others? Aira was certain Selene had lost Adagio’s tail, and things she’d said indicated her entourage hadn’t pursued her either. If that remained true, Adagio was likely safe.

The uncertainty left a pit in Aria’s distant gut, however. There was no telling what Selene or her sisters were up to or how they fared.

It did occur to Aria that maybe those thoughts were the point of keeping her sequestered away like a forgotten trinket. Leave her desperate for information that she lets something slip.

Not much for it. Aria just needed to wait. And wait.

And wait some more.

Ugh. Too much waiting. Maybe she could try picking the door apart in smaller pieces? It would take an awful long time to make a hole big enough to squeeze through. Yet some of the paint and wood had splintered off due to her prior efforts, a tantalising hint of what she could do if she could bury the flat ends of her claws in between the grains…

Aria stood at the same time a series of clicks, clanks, and creaks pushed the door open. Her instinct to coil up and leap ran through her, to take the long shot she’d just been given—

She was halfway through the air before something stole her momentum. A faint, pink light better illuminated the face of the pony in the doorway, and she recognised the mare’s contemplative frown.

Every one of Aria’s limbs went limp, and her core danged beneath her.

“Miss Selene was adamant we keep the door locked—“

“I have as much authority as her,” Twilight said. Her eyes locked with Aria’s. “More, technically.”

“Miss Sparkle, this thing is dangerous.”

Twilight looked over her shoulder, then dragged Aria with her, dangling her between the two ponies. The guard shrunk back, to Aria’s surprise, to which she allowed herself a smirk.

“Really? There’s another more dangerous out there, and the one we captured scares you?”

The guard—a mare, maybe?—swallowed. “It’s shown unusual capabilities.”

“Indeed she has.” Twilight stepped forward, and the guardsmare stepped aside to let her through. “And who better to study those capabilities than myself?”

“I…” The other mare sighed. “I insist I accompany you to make sure you’re safe and it is contained.”

After a moment’s pause, Aria noted the irritation creasing Twilight’s brow while her eyes were cast down in thought. “Fine. If that will give you peace of mind, you can accompany me.”

The guardsmare stared briefly before straightening up and giving Twilight a quick nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

After a second more spent staring down the guard, Twilight turned back to Aria. “You’re not going to be a problem either, are you?”

As much as Aria didn’t want to go with Twilight and whatever disassembly or experiments she had in mind, it’s not like she had much of a choice. She tried to shake her head, but the gesture didn’t translate well without a body. “No,” she answered.

“Good.” Twilight opened her coat so that one of the lapels hung loose, then tucked Aria close to her body.

She wasn’t exactly hidden, but their journey wasn’t long. It took a minute to traverse the corridors and enter another room. Inside, Twilight lofted Aria up again while the guard clicked the door shut behind them.

More desks, though these weren’t nearly as ornate as Sunset’s back in the tower. Simple carving and joinery, with shelves and drawers aplenty. Most of the paperwork had been moved atop one desk closer to the door, most likely to make room for two desks to be pushed together, atop which sat Aria’s body.

She so desperately wanted to reach out and swing over, to re-assume her connection over the limp, headless form. But that would be all too easy, and she’d still need to fight her way out. Sneaking away with just her head and core would still be far easier.

It was best to let Twilight do as she wanted for the moment. Who knows what was hiding around the corner, ready to burst behind the trio and take Aria down if she acted up.

Twilight took up a place at the only clear desk, the fourth in the room, and placed Aria down with a thunk. “She really has made some interesting innovations,” Twilight muttered. The magic pulled on Aria’s head and core, and she could feel the limbs jabbed into her throat go taut. Twilight was forcing her to spread out.

“Hey, hey, not so hard!”

The energy around Aria lessened but didn’t subside. “Hm, I didn’t think you could feel that.” Leaning forward, Twilight practically loomed over the trapped head. “Spinal mount is half-intact, retaining a connection to the core.” One of the loose limbs twisted up, and Aria winced. “Limbs are jury-rigged but reminiscent of my design. Could be copying, but could also be convergent.”

Crap. Maybe Aria should have made an attempt to get to her body. She tried squirming around, twisting her limbs herself in an effort to pull away, but all she managed to do was scrape the mat on the desktop while scooting over an inch or two.

The magic continued peeling away at Aria’s limbs until she was forced to relax the two spindles holding to her head. Twilight took advantage, splaying out head, spine, and core across the desk. A project to be examined and dissected.

Disassembled.

That wasn’t the first time Aria had seen a golem’s core, nor the first time she saw her own. But now that it was bared for Twilight’s eyes, vulnerable to whatever prodding she had planned, she couldn’t simply acknowledge its presence.

Four outer rings at right angles from one another held the core together. Glyphs gently glowed upon the outer surface, different from those Aria had seen on the cover of books or Sunset’s notes. A soft pinkish-red sphere sat just within, beating with a soft pulse that brightened it every few seconds. More rings spun inside, slow and steady, covering the eternally tumbling, roughly hewn gem in the middle.

It reminded her of her sisters’ eyes, of her own. While most of it looked rough, like the rock walls of the tower and castle, one side looked as if it had sheered off from something larger, greater.

It took a few moments of staring at her exposed heart for Aria to finally sense Twilight’s lack of activity. The mare had simply been staring at the device. She knitted her brow across again, not unlike the way Sunset did when frustrated or confused.

Or fascinated.

“Not gonna jam something in there?” Aria asked. “Bet that’d hurt. Be fun for you to watch.”

Twilight’s flicked over to Aria, filled with irritation. Fear filled Aria’s core, but so did a soothing sense of satisfaction. If she’s going to go out, she may as well piss off the egghead until her last moment.

Then she stepped back, and the force pinning Aria down relented. She could still feel it around her, little tendrils of energy reminding her that Twilight was in control, but she had the freedom to move around, at least a little. She could scoot her core closer to her head and pick it back up again.

“That would be a waste,” Twilight said. “I’d rather not break something so well put together. Your core is…” She swallowed, her expression softening. “It’s a fine piece of engineering. Art, even.”

Aria blinked. “So… you don’t want to take me apart?”

Twilight shook her head. “The only reason I’d do that is to discern how somepony put something together. You’re quite transparent.” She used a hoof to gesture to Aria’s core. “Literally.”

Oookay. Aria probably should have felt relief, but the admission she wasn’t about to cease to be right there and then made her restless. No other hoof was about to drop because the first hadn’t even met the floor, so all she could do was tap-tap-tap one of her little legs off the desktop.

Could it be there was some sympathy within Twilight? That seemed too good to be true, given she’d laid siege to the tower and was more than happy enough to sic her soldiers on Aria and her sisters.

“So…” Aria lifted a leg up in a half-shrug. Hopefully, Twilight understood that the gesture also meant she ought to explain herself.

She laughed. The noise was short and sudden, not quite as mirthful as it could be, but it also came with a small smile at the corners of her mouth. “She must have a thing for sassy mares if you’re all like this. Between you, the red-haired one and Chrysalis, it only tracks the other one would be the same.”

Conversation. Far preferable to the alternative, being assaulted by screwdrivers and invisible tendrils. “Eh. She’s got a bit of a sarcastic streak, but she’s not as bad as me.”

“And who are you, exactly?” Twilight tilted her head. “Chrysalis demanded I give her a name, and I had a different name for her before that. It stands to reason that your creator would anthropomorphise you and give you a name.”

There was the first hoof. Twilight still wanted information, just not the way Aria initially assumed.

She couldn’t figure out a problem with giving her name, though. “Aria.”

Twilight blinked. “A song sung by a single voice. Seems almost deterministic in nature, given your situation.” She hummed. “Did she pick it?”

“I did. I…” Aria trailed off, the rest of her thoughts dying on her lips. She didn’t want to volunteer anything else, not even an explanation behind her name. Even if she did, she had no clue why she’d picked her own name. “I like it.” True enough, but definitely not the entire picture.

“Curious. Did the rest of you pick your own names? Are they themed? What about your name do you like?” Twilight leaned in again, something clearly opening the floodgates between her thoughts and her mouth. A focus turned her eyes to pinpricks, finally giving Aria that feeling of prey before a predator.

Aria held up two spindly legs, putting a measly barrier between her and Twilight. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. I am not gonna answer every little thing you ask. I ain’t that easy.”

Frowning, Twilight eased off once more. “You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate,” she stated, her expression flat. “I could still jam a screwdriver into your core.”

“And yet you admitted you didn’t want to.” She gave her best, toothiest smirk. She may live to regret poking Twilight as she was, but it was worth it still. “I won’t answer everything. No locations, no functions of how I work. “Twilight didn’t need to know Aria knew sod all. “But I will answer some more… basic things if you can promise me a little more freedom. No more closet time. Maybe a little—“

“You’re not getting your body back.” With a huff, Twilight quickly glanced over to the guard, who had spent the entire time thus far unmoved, save for the steadily growing crease in her brow. “But we can work a little with the rest. It’s not solely my call, but if you behave, I’m sure we can find a room with windows to lock you in.”

It’s a start. Aria nodded to that. “Okay. That gets you… two answers. Cool with you?”

“Ugh… Sure. Okay.” Twilight sat on the floor before Aria, and she looked aside at the windows outside. Now that Aria wasn’t fretting for her life, she allowed herself to follow her gaze. They were somewhere at the front of the building, as she could see the central plaza ahead. Buildings spaced further apart, with a fountain in the middle. It looked a little too put together compared to the quaint mudhole vibe the rest of the town gave off, with the clean, well-presented storefronts. More of the plaza had been cordoned off, with makeshift barriers erected with bollards and ribbons.

“This feels like a waste, but…” Twilight turned back to Aria. “What are the others’ names?”

Aria couldn’t complain about Twilight using up her limited pool of questions. She didn’t have to come up with as many lies that way or worry about lying. “Adagio and Sonata.”

The mare before Aria hummed. “A slow tempo and a piece of music to be played rather than sung. That confirms you did have a theme in mind.” Twilight tapped her chin. “Let’s not waste more questions on your names. That’s pure curiosity, not at all useful information.” She blinked. “…Will asking which I met first count as a question?”

A laugh squeaked out of Aria. “’Fraid so, Twinkle.”

Twilight’s straight-lipped expression turned down a little. “A little unfair, but I did agree to the terms.” She sighed. “Let’s see…” Her eyes lit up, and the frown turned up once more a small, delicate smile. “Oh, I have a good one. What is your purpose?”

Aria was glad enough that she had fewer muscles to clench and give her thoughts away. That was a good question; she had to tread carefully with her answer. She didn’t know much about who Celestia was, but Sunset seemed to treat the name with reverence. If Twilight knew the same things as Sunset, it stood to reason that Twilight would at least recognise the name. That could point out connections with Sunset, revealing more of her identity.

“Su—“Aria cleared her throat. “She made us to gloat. To show us off.”

“I’d say she’s done a real good job of that so far.” Twilight harrumphed and gazed down at her side. “I suppose she wasn’t expecting me or any of the guards to be a problem.”

Aria waggled a leg before her. “Ah-ah, you used up your two questions.”

Blinking, Twilight lifted her gaze again. “Oh, that wasn’t a question.” She hummed, using a hoof to tap her chin.

Considering her next move, most likely, she wondered what else she could give Aria in return for a little more information. The fact that she so adamantly adhered to the bargain came off as endearing and most certainly unexpected.

There must have been more in that mare’s mind than curiosity and cruelty.

Before Aria grew bored waiting in silence, right as she restarted her antsy shuffling, Twilight’s eyes lit up. “How about an exchange of questions? Ask whatever you like, I’ll answer, and then we’ll swap.”

Aria tilted her head. “Y’sure you’re gonna make much progress with me like that?”

“Any information you give is interesting.”

Aria filled the ensuing silence with a rhythmic tapping on the mat. A dark, spongy material bordered by two blocks of wood on either side. Aria wondered what its purpose was, then pushed that thought aside. If she was going to accept Twilight’s latest offer, she ought to have some questions lined up.

It didn’t take long for a few to float to mind, and the tapping stopped.

“Alright. I got a few I wanna know, anyway.”

Twilight hopped to her hooves. “Fantastic! Okay, ask away. What would you like to know.”

Aria caught the shuffle from the guard, a half step toward Twilight and a parted mouth.

“First question: What do you do? You got that lab and made Chrysalis before she was Chrysalis, so I guess you’re kinda like Sunset.”

Clicking her teeth shut, Aria realised her blunder the moment it spilt out of her mouth. She offered up information. She could only hope Twilight hadn’t noticed.

When she gave the guard another glance, however, she noticed their softened expression, the slight tilt to their head.

Shoot.

“That’s… kind of difficult to answer, actually!” Twilight chuckled, and her ears bent halfway back. “I guess protegé isn’t really a job title. I’m mostly a student, but I do some secretarial and civil service work, too, which is why I’m here.”

“What do those last two things mean?” Aria asked. She realised she’d asked another question, but she figured she’d try to get some clarification.

“Secretarial and civil service?” The knitted brow returned, and Twilight gave their spectator a quick, incredulous look. She made the mistake, even if it wasn’t giving up more information than she’d already offered. “The former means I organise data and schedules and help with all the menial paperwork. The same with the latter, come to think of it, but instead of just for a single pony, I do so for lots of them at once.” A grunt. “That’s not comprehensive enough, but I hope that explains enough.”

Twilight shrugged. “It didn’t explain a lot, but whatever.”

“Interesting. A lack of knowledge like that indicates an incomplete transference of information.”

“That your way of calling me a dumbass?”

Jerking her head back, Twilight held up a hoof almost defensively. “No! It’s just… interesting that you’d know how to speak and understand me thus far but not know anything about some rather common jobs.” She cleared her throat and settled her leg back down. “It doesn’t matter. Next—“

The ‘Q’ in ‘question’ was all Twilight managed to squeak out as the door to the room opened up. The guard grunted as they were shoved up against the wall, but their shout died quickly as they laid eyes on the intruder.

Selene’s gaze hovered over Aria, the cold blues delving deep into whatever Aria could call a soul. It felt like she sucked the light out of the room, and there wasn’t much to begin from the narrow windows.

Then she looked at Twilight, a small smile spreading across her lips. It raised her cheeks but certainly didn’t come across as any warmer. It made Aria think of Chrysalis, seeing everypony around her beneath her station.

Aria also noticed the magic around her faded entirely. The muddy feeling it created disappeared. Rather than capitalise on it, though, Aria’s legs were rooted to the spot. She didn’t fancy drawing Selene’s ire by moving too quick.

“You should ask before taking my things, Twilight.”

“Oh! Selene! Um.” Twilight swallowed, her ears pinned back against her scalp. “I was curious, is all. I wanted to know how she—it works.”

“From several feet away?” Selene snorted. She crossed the room to Twilight, who shrank down even more. Selene already had a few inches on the mare, but now she towered over her. “I could hear you talking from down the hall.”

“It-it’s a process!” Twilight stamped a hoof, though there was little heart in it. Against the carpeted floor, all she really managed was a light thump. “We should ascertain its ability to process information before we do something irreparable.”

Rolling her eyes, Selene lifted a hoof beneath Twilight’s chin and tilted her head up. Whatever you say, that doesn’t change the fact that you should at least ask first. What do you think Celestia would say about this? Reckless, irresponsible…” The way Twilight backed up made it clear Selene had intentionally positioned herself between Twilight and the desk. “Reminds me of someone else I knew,” Selene added with a chuckle.

The mention of Celestia’s name definitely caught Aria’s attention. She had an inkling that she was related to the current goings on to some degree, but to have it confirmed…

“Leave us, Twilight. Your interrogation and dissection can wait.” The hoof fell from Twilight’s chin as Selene approached the desk.

Twilight’s head dropped, as did her shoulders. The only thing that told Aria she didn’t intend to charge Selene were how her shoulders hunched back. She had no power behind the posture. “Please, at least let me finish this part, Selene—“

“I said what I said.” She unfurled her wings as she looked away from Aria, blocking Twilight from sight. “Go.”

After a few moments of breath-filled quiet, Aria saw the side of the hooves sliding across the carpet and fading into the distance.

When Aria couldn’t hear them, Selene sighed and folded her wings. “Obstinate bitch.”

“You didn’t have to be the bigger bitch.” The words spilt out of Aria’s mouth before she could snap her jaw shut. She felt small when Selene’s icy glare burrowed into her like fangs into flesh, reminding Aria just who had power over her.

Then, the corner of her mouth curled into a smile again, bearing gleaming white teeth. Aria had noticed most ponies tended to have fairly uniform, flat teeth, Sunset included, except for the few pegasi she’d been lucky enough to face down, who happened to sport a handful of small, pointed canines.

Selene also had pointier teeth, and while not large, they were indeed more prominent than anything that seemed appropriate to fit inside a pony’s maw.

“I like you.” Selene chuckled and walked around the desk, forcing Aria to either turn to face her and lose sight of the door and the guard or let the bigger threat loom behind her. She chose the former, though the choice didn’t feel entirely like her own. “You like to bark and snap, and you’ve got the temerity to bite, too.”

Selene looked up from Aria to the door behind her for a moment. The smile slipped, and she gave her head a quick jerk. After a moment of silence and shuffling, the door clicked behind them. Aria didn’t have to look to know she’d been left entirely alone with her key captor.

“That’s also probably why Twilight has taken a shine to you. She’s wrapped up in her books and her toys far too often, and always has been if what I know about her holds true.” She clucked her tongue. “Reminds me of another pony I used to know.”

Aria knew the bait was obvious. She’d brought up this mysterious other pony twice, not just dangled before Aria but jerked side to side while Selene gloated. She wanted Aria to ask who this mysterious other pony was.

And Aria just couldn’t quite help herself.

“Don’t suppose you’re gonna tell me who, are you?”

“Hm? Oh, her. Nopony special. Not anymore, anyway. I’m just being reminded of her more often as of late.” She shut her eyes and breathed out. “Curious, though it doesn’t matter. I think it best we get down to business now that I’m not busy with other things.”

The oppressive magic surrounded Aria again, though the tug didn’t just serve as a reminder. The field about her plucked at her skin, limbs, and core, turning from a faintly fuzzy feeling to dozens of tiny, insidious pinpricks. Aria itched, but she couldn’t scratch it. She doubted she could, even if she had the freedom to reach up and scrape her nose.

“I remember doing this with Twilight’s little toy. Splaying it out, pulling on its legs, watching how it reacts.” Selene opened her eyes, gazing down at Aria with her head held high. “I enjoyed its futile attempts to squirm free. It had such a basic understanding of the world, just how to navigate it and determine which way was up.” Again, those teeth shone in the increasingly red-hued light. “No inkling of who was friend or foe.”

Aria scraped across the desktop, but rather than fall, she simply dipped before floating over to Selene. Something about her seemed different now she hadn’t a hundred eyes watching her. “You, though, know all too well I am not a friend. No squirming, no trying to flee. Is that down to a lack of fear?”

They gazed into one another’s eyes, and while Aria had no clue how to analyse what she saw in Selene’s, she worried that Selene could tell everything happening behind Aria’s.

All too quickly, Aria had become too scared to let out a squeak, let alone try to fight against whatever the hell Selene had planned for her. She could only hope she’d survive.

Maybe the best way to survive would be to answer Selene’s question.

“I am scared,” Aria whispered. She couldn’t lie. She’d know it’d come out the same way, a tiny sliver of a voice that sounded more like an electric whine than actual speech. “Not for me, though.”

Her addition wasn’t entirely true. The truth was Aria feared her short, synthetic life was coming to a close.

Selene tilted her head the way Aria had caught timberwolves do, an ear flopping down while the other raised up. She’d mimicked the motion herself in the past and found it helped her discern the direction of noises a little better. “That is certainly an interesting answer. You’ve given me a lot to dissect.”

Rising a little higher, she tipped Aria upside down, their snouts close to one another. This was just like Selene had done to Adagio, though this was less to keep her contained—a reminder, maybe, or just to play with her food.

“What are you scared for, then? Oh, no, wait. Don’t tell me; I can work this one out.” Turning on the spot, Selene swung Aria around, and they both looked at her lifeless body. Aria felt something inside of her every time she looked upon it. A dizzying feeling, made worse by her current tipped-up predicament. Nopony should have to see their own corpse, even if she could revive it at a moment’s notice.

“I realised last night the only reason you fought me at all was to keep me distracted. Or at least that’s how things turned for you in the end.” A silver-shoed hoof nudged one of Aria’s front legs up, more contact giving Selene more leverage. It let Aria see the slight sink of her chest made by the core’s absence. The body had something resembling ribs beneath, but much of the shape and mass had been made of silicone flesh. “That other one that got away, she seemed to speak in reverence of you. A sister, one of a trio.”

It felt like rambling, but Aria knew Selene was making a point.

Rearing up, Selene lay a hoof in the centre of Aria’s chest. “If I am not mistaken, you fear for your sisters. That makes you surprisingly equine at the end of the day, which does make me wonder…” Pressure built on the cavity, pressing into the fake skin and muscle and fat. “Who in the world put you together? Because as far as I can see, there are only a handful of ponies as lonely and desperate to actually go through and make their own friends.”

The energy in the room ebbed, pulsing through the telekinetic grip around Aria’s little body. Selene’s dark, spiralling horn glowed with an ethereal light that matched her cool, blue eyes, moonlit str flowing forward to her hoof.

Finally, Aria fidgeted, and she pushed against her invisible bonds. Futile. She had no surface to grip onto or push herself off. She may as well have been situated in a void, for all her silent protesting mattered.

“Let’s see if that fear is mutual. You were abandoned quickly, but there’s only one way to be certain if that was down to faith in your abilities or their own personal fear trumping yours.”

“Let go!” Every one of Aria’s legs unfolded like petals on a flower. “Please.” That word surprised her. Aria didn’t think she was the begging type.

Tutting, Selene flared her wings out. Even though light continued pouring in through the windows, the space turned dark like curtains had been drawn. It was like light, sound, heat, everything had been forced to the floor.

The desks creaked, narrow but noticeable fractures running up the wood. Then, with a crash, that split continued across pale pink skin, followed by the sound of metal sheering apart.

Author's Note

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