Tri.exe

Chapters

Concept Stage
Prototype
Controlled Environment
Field Test
System Failure

Concept Stage

Pipp Petals had her phone gripped tightly in her hoof. This was normal. That was where her phone was pretty much every hour of every day. What was not normal was the data displayed on the screen. A feed of ever-increasing numbers that made the undersides of Pipp's wings sweat.

Okay, maybe a little of the sweat came from those wings currently beating towards Izzy's place. Through the biting cold of early February, through a snarl of snowclouds full of stinging ice flakes, Pipp rushed redfaced and hot towards help.

The data on Pipp's phone was too monstrous to grapple with by herself, and asking for Sunny's help was out of the question. By the Goddess, under no circumstances could Sunny be alerted of this.

After Sunny, Izzy Moonbow was Pipp's runner-up confidant. That was why the frantic flight of a pudgy princess was hurtling downwards at a dolled-up cottage near Bridlewood's outskirts. Pipp fixed her eyes on the only patch of yard not coated in snow, lawn ornaments, or snow-covered lawn ornaments. The rough touchdown took focus away from her phone's screen for a few moments, not that it erased the numbers Pipp knew were still there. Still increasing.

"Izzy! Your van is out here, so I know you're- ack!" Pipp's landing hit a patch of ice near an overfilled birdbath, crashing her into a plastic flamingo staked nearby. Sprawled face-down, Pipp chewed and swallowed a lump of snowy grass that had ended up in her mouth. Hopefully Izzy hadn't seen that.

"Holy moly, what a wipeout!"

Pipp growled before donning her perfectly practiced princess smile. Then she sat up.

"Morning, Iz. Can the local handymare maybe help fix a friend's phone problem?"

The head of Izzy Moonbow was protruding from the cottage window. If she stayed still, she could have been mistaken for another piece of tawdry kitsch cluttering the property. But of course, Izzy never stayed still. Her forelimbs materialized from the windows depths, folding together under her soft chin.

"Phone troubles? I can give it the old college dropout try. Prop up Fernando before you come inside, kay?"

"What, this thing?" Pipp fumbled to hold onto the plastic flamingo with one hoof and keep her phone gripped in the other.

"Yes ma'am! Up against the birdbath."

Pipp obliged, keeping a lid on her impatience.

"Be sure to tilt him so he can wet his beak!"

Pipp obliged further, her lid beginning to slip. "The birdbath is frozen, Izzy. And this thing isn't real, ya know."

"Pish posh, of course Fernando's real! You crashed headlong into him instead of ghosting right through, didn't ya?"

Izzy ducked in as the window snapped shut. Fine by Pipp. Words weren't worth arguing over, since numbers were causing her enough problems already. A hum and a blurb lit up Pipp's lock screen while she waded through Izzy's lawn ornaments. The numbers were going up in real time, and there was nothing Pipp could do to stop them. She choked down rising worry, as she clambered up the slippery steps.

Izzy's tuneless humming grew louder as Pipp shouldered the door open. Or tried to open it. The entrance was clogged with what appeared to be piles of fabric.

"Oh, phooey! I can move those! Don't exhaust yourself!"

Levitation magic pushed the fabric, and an impatient pegasus pushed open the door.

"Look Iz, I just need you to watch a vid and give me your feedb... wait, do you really think I'm not strong enough to scoot fabric?"

"Eh?" Izzy was crossing the cluttered cabin, stepping around detritus with inequine deftness. "I 'unno. My thinkspace is almost as messy as my living space. Plus, you got those short legs and round... um..."

Pipp reflexively sucked in her soft, protruding belly.

"Round what?" she challenged.

"Uh... it doesn't matter!" Izzy produced her wide-angled reading glasses from a craft table and latched them onto her nose. "Izzy Does It has engaged Serious Business Mode. What're we looking at today?"

Pipp steeled herself to rewatch a particularly horrid vid. Then pressed play on her phone.

"H...hello, everypony," the speaker crackled. "This is Sunny Starscout, for those of you who don't know me. Do ponies not know me? Oh jeez, I'll probably need to edit this out in post."

"Ooh! I know this one," Izzy exclaimed. Pipp rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know you know who Sunny is. That comment wasn't directed at us, Iz."

"No, I mean I know this vid! It's the funniest thing I've seen in ages!"

Pipp's heart sank. "It is?"

"Shh! The best part is about to happen!"

Izzy swiped the phone and leaned eagerly against a nearby mannequin. The recording of Sunny was still going.

"-nkie Pie was apparently famous for making cupcakes. Curiously, her original recipe seems to have been scrubbed from history. But that's alright, because I have here in my own oven a guess at what authentic, Sugar Cube Corner cupcakes might've been like. Lemme just... get the latch off here..."

Izzy burst into laughter at the same moment Sunny's stove burst into flames. The unicorn reflexively clicked Like on the familiar viral video, rubbing her eyes and not noticing she'd undone a feeble Dislike put by Pipp. The audio went from the roar of flames to the roar of a hastily deployed extinguisher. Then action died down alongside Izzy's belly laughs.

"Oh, Faust. It's still funny the hundredth time ya see it."

"No it isn't!" Pipp's perfectly practiced starlet voice cracked like a distressed teen. So jarring that even Izzy noticed.

"What's wrong? Everything is fine, see?" Izzy presented Pipp's phone, but it wasn't the feed of a frazzled but unhurt Sunny Starscout that had Pipp's seething attention. It was the Like count in the corner. Pipp tapped the pause button, interrupting Sunny's sheepish promise of better videos in the future. Then she looked Izzy dead in the eye.

"Listen, I need you to pay attention as I explain some things. Can you do that?"

A blank but inquisitive stare was the only response. Pipp accepted it in place of a "yes."

"Look, this vid is terrible. The audio peaks because she didn't do any volume mixing. It's also obvious that Sunny just propped her phone on the counter because the frame is lopsided." Pipp was feeling a little better as she continued speaking on the one subject she was most knowledgeable on. Not good, but better. "She doesn't even spend the first three seconds doing flourishes! The first three seconds are the most important time to grab viewer attention!"

Izzy adjusted her glasses and did her best to look pensive. "M'kay, so... why are we not okay with Sunny making a big derp of a video?"

"Because this big derp of a video has over five hundred thousand Likes!"

"Oh wow, good for Sunny!"

"No! bad for me!"

Pipp was pacing the interior of Izzy's home now, stumbling over random junk, but too riled to keep still.

"Nothing I've uploaded has gotten five hundred thousand Likes in months! And this Pinkie Pie upload was only the first in Sunny's Mane Six series. She posted the Applejack one earlier today. And just look at it!"

Izzy peered excitedly at this new footage she hadn't yet seen. Vaguely, she was aware of Pipp griping over the blown-out colors due Sunny obviously not knowing how to film outside. While it was true the vid lacked many details, it had enough. Sunny was in the Maretime Bay community garden, clearing a patch with a snow shovel and revving up a dose of Earth Pony growth magic. The pulse connected with a sickly leafless apple tree sapling, explosive plant growth launching Sunny several meters into the air.

"This new upload got six hundred thousand Likes. Six hundred!" Pipp's normally purple face had become a deep, heated red. "I know how metrics work; her next vid will get seven hundred thousand at the very least. And the one after that will get eight! At this rate, she'll net a million Likes by the sixth and last upload. And if she does that, she'll have surpassed my most Liked post. Which means she's surpassed me as a content creator. And if she's surpassed me as a content creator... then she's surpassed me as a content creator!!"

"And that's... bad," Izzy guessed confidently.

If looks could kill, Izzy Moonbow would have been a snowman struck by a sleigh. But they couldn't, so while Pipp glowered impotently, Izzy drummed her hooves on the mannequin over which she'd draped herself, pondering the implications of her friend's doomsaying. "What... what content have you been making, anyway?"

Pipp sighed and tapped her home menu. "Chatbot apps are the new hotness. Or they were supposed to be, before Sunny burned those cupcakes and changed the game overnight."

Izzy stared, transfixed by a flashy-looking icon labeled ChuffGPT.

"You can tweak the tone of its responses," Pipp sighed. "I was showing off the Shy Coltfriend setting on a livestream yesterday. Then I noticed my view count drop off. Bunch of viewers flocking over to check out Sunny's fresh upload on Applejack."

"Holy moly, so ChuffGPT can pretend to be anypony you ask it to? Can it pretend to be me?"

"I'm afraid not," Pipp drawled. She hated to stomp on Izzy's fascination, but facts remained facts. "You'd have to feed the thing a whole autobiography to get it to emulate a pony. Short of that, its just a gimmicky gizmo."

"Oh. Well, still. It sounds pretty cool."

"An app that's 'pretty cool' isn't going to outperform Sunny! This is serious! I'm in real danger!"

"You are?" Izzy backed defensively into the mannequin, surveying her and Pipp's surroundings.

"Not physical danger. Social danger. Which is much worse!" Pipp resumed her panicked pacing. "I have no content ideas! I can't keep making ChuffGPT content, because it's not getting the views. But I can't make Mane Six vids myself, because that'd make me a trend chaser. And Princess Pipp does NOT chase trends!" She rubbed her nose fretfully. "Plus, even I did try to compete with Sunny's series, she's already ahead of me. Who knows which pony her next upload is going to be about?"

"Me."

Pipp blew out heavily. "You're not a member of the Mane Six, Iz."

"No, I mean I know which pony is next on Sunny's list." Izzy levitated a piece of fabric from the nearby pile and draped it over the mannequin. "It's Rarity. She asked me to drop some spare cloth off at her place, since she's busy today cleaning giant apple chunks out of the park or something. Wanna help me deliver 'em?"

"Wha- No!!" Pipp's heated red face hue was back. "Why in Equestria would I lend a hoof to an enem... my en..." Izzy tilted her head quizzically while Pipp suddenly looked deeply ashamed.

"S-sorry. I'm really stressed and almost said something I didn't mean." A flicker of fear distorted her face. "You won't tell Sunny about that, will you?"

Izzy shrugged guilelessly. "How could I? She's not even gonna be home." She resumed hoofing through her pile of soon-to-be delivered fabric while Pipp turned away, hoof over her heart to steady it.

"I should go, Iz. Take a long flight back to Zephyr Heights to clear my head. Figure out my next move."

Izzy pulled off her wireframes, genuinely regretful. "Sorry I wasn't a good pony for bouncing ideas off of. Not even with the Izzy Does It glasses." Her expression suddenly brightened. "Hey, why don't you ask ChuffGPT for help? Does it have a Super Smart Social Influencer setting?"

"For the last time Iz, I'd have to feed the app a ridiculous amount of info to make it act like an actual pony. Besides," Pipp gave a practiced toss of her head and peered coquettishly over her shoulder. "Who in the history of Equestria is a better performer than me?"

Izzy shrugged before tossing another piece of test fabric over the mannequin. Most scraps in the stack were motley mixes of flower decals, plaid patterns, or solid colors with frayed trim. The one on top however, was much easier on the eyes. A dark purple cloth dotted with stars and moons. Its edges pooled at the base of the mannequin's neck, giving off the likeness of a caped showmare in a floppy hat.

Pipp's mind raced faster than the Like counter under the Applejack video. Sunny was always dropping mentions of the pop culture of Old Equestria. Countess Coloratura, the singer with a secret identity. The Mysterious Mare Do Well, the vigilante with a secret identity (Old Equestria sure had a lot of those). But above all the rest, there was a Great And Powerful magician. One beloved by ponies across the globe. At least, those were the claims in Trixie's autobiography. And Sunny kept the only known copy snug on her bookshelf.

"Ooh, this sheet's a shiny one," Izzy observed. "Hope it helps recreate Rarity's designs." She folded up the winning material and grabbed her van keys. "Guess I'll be seein' ya."

"Actually..." Pipp's voice had a newer, more mischievous tone to it. "I think I'll tag along to the Crystal Brighthouse after all."

Izzy made an excited squeeing noise, shoving the fabric into Pipp's hooves. "Day trip gal pals!" she declared. "Here, you can carry the easy thing. I'll lug along Madeleine!"

Before Pipp could even ask who Madeline was, Izzy hopped behind the heavy mannequin and heaved. Unicorns were not a strong breed, so the giant facsimile of a pony didn't begin moving until Pipp shouldered the weight of the front end.

"Oh wow, Pipp! You really have some workhorse muscles under all those soft curves!"

"Gee, thanks," the princess muttered stiffly. A blast of cold air hit them both as they lugged the load outside. "I wanna get on the road just as quickly as you do. In and out before Sunny gets home, right?"

"Sure, sure," Izzy grunted.

"And... since Sunny is such a generous friend, she won't mind if I, ya know, borrowed a book off her archive shelf, right?"

"I 'unno. You're not gonna swipe any of her Mane Six stuff are you?" Izzy peered skeptically over her cargo at the princess.

"Huh-uh," Pipp assured. "I'd never play so dirty. But... well, Zipp watches a lot of pro wrestling. Ponies cheer louder when the heroine has a good rival to go up against. And I think I can recreate one."

"Alright! Sounds like everypony wins!" Izzy finished securing the mannequin to her van. Then she addressed the plastic flamingo still on her lawn. "Fernando! I'll be back home by sundown. Keep the homestead from getting snowed in and stay off the internet! It's an addictive place."

As recently as a minute ago, Pipp Petals would have scoffed at Izzy's flighty habit of talking to objects. But with her new plans brewing, she didn't mind sitting beside Madeleine Mannequin or waving goodbye to Fernando Flamingo. A new nonliving friend just might be in her cards. Though the weather was still bitterly cold, the moon and star-patterned fabric was warm. So was Pipp's phone as she sent a confident update to her followers.

Big things coming, Pippsqueaks! Stay tuned for the million-Likes-worthy magic!

Faves and re-Trots rolled in. But not as many or as quickly as Pipp was used to. She rubbed her eyes, fretting again. Seated beside her, Izzy was back to humming obliviously.

"Hearts And Hooves Day is coming up." Izzy turned the key in a sputtering engine that refused to start. "Got your special somepony picked out yet? Or a platonic valentine pal? A pal-entine?"

"Iz, get me in and out of the Brighthouse, and the spot is yours."

The engine coughed to life and the Izzy Does It van burned rubber towards Maretime Bay.

Author's Note

:trixieshiftright: Well well, what a high strung pegasus princess. Impassioned, loudmouthed, desperate to be loved... Not that Trixie finds any of that relatable! I'm sure the two of us will get along famously.

Prototype

Zipp Storm yawned as she trotted into the palace foyer. Flight practice always kicked her flank, doubly so during today's biting cold. Supposedly, ancient pegasi had fancy techniques to control the weather. Would be nice to still know those, since this snow wasn't likely to let up before Hearts And Hooves Day. And yet, the New Wonderbolts were still rediscovering synchronized flying. It'd be a good few seasons before the team could coordinate moving clouds around. When you rush to replicate the past, mistakes happen. Modern ponies had to temper their ambition.

For Zipp, tempering her own ambition meant walking a block to the Zephyr Heights royal district instead of flying several miles back to the Brighthouse. Not this late in the day, and not in this weather. The luxury suite of her old room was calling her weary name. Best to relax after a good workout, and she knew no better way than checking to see if Sunny had posted a new Mane Six video.

Extending a pleasantly aching wing, Zipp scooped her phone off the charging table she'd left it on. A notification blinked brightly: "Unwatched Upload."

"Yes! Hope this one's about Rainbow Dash!"

Zipp's nose tapped the play button near the thumbnail of a manticore. She watched as she ascended the central staircase, witnessing shaky hoofheld footage of the beast. It was in a den of some sort, hibernating for the winter. Zipp didn't have a great eye for botany, but moss patches on the walls matched the type that grew in the woods near Maretime Bay. Indistinct whispers accompanied the footage, and Zipp slowed her climb to listen better.

"Trot closer so I can get a good shot." Sunny's bubbly voice was unmistakable, even while hushed and tense. Following her orders, a pink and yellow pony crept into frame, fake wings rustling with apprehension.

"Closer," Sunny's whisper encouraged as her phone camera went in and out of focus.

"Just snap the pic so we can bail," the yellow pony hissed. "I'm not taking another step towards that bucking thing."

"Fluttershy doesn't swear, Posey. C'mon, you're already dressed the part, so acting should be easy."

"Act the part? Why would... wait, ARE YOU FILMING? I THOUGHT YOU JUST WANTED A PHOTO!!"

The manitcore roared to alertness, and the feed promptly cut to selfie angle of two mares fleeing. Sunny was laughing and mugging to the camera. Posey was doing neither.

Zipp chuckled as she turned the corner into the bedroom hallway. Sunny had certainly earned a Like for taping something so reckless, so Zipp touched her nose to the screen once again, adding her vote of approval to seven hundred thousand others. When she pulled back, she saw Sunny back at the Brighthouse, reading aloud from a book allegedly written by Fluttershy herself. Zipp was only half-listening now that the manticore part was over. It seemed to be boring but practical advice about Winter Wrap-Up and approaching magic animals in the wild. Whatever. The only thing Zipp planned on approaching was a pillow fit for a princess.

She clicked off her phone and made for her bedroom. Yeah, today's vid hadn't been Rainbow Dash, but there was always tomorrow. Sunny was killing it lately. The burnt cupcakes and exploding apples had been charming in an amateur-ish way, but after that came a Rarity-styled fashion showcase. Very glitzy, thanks to Izzy's input. Enough to hold even Zipp's tomcoltish attention. Today's vid was yet another jump in production, with Posey's restyled hair a perfect match to all those historical pictures of Fluttershy. The beauticians at Mane Melody must have really been on the ball, since Pipp wasn't at the salon this morning to provide pointers.

Now that Zipp thought about it, her sister had been pretty scarce lately.

Zipp's paused in front of her bedroom. Heavy snowfall was hitting the castle roof, but it wasn't the only sound. Down the hall, from Pipp's old suite, muted music could be heard through the door.

She was being nosy. Zipp knew that. But Pipp never just cloistered up like this. The longest Zipp's sister had ever been radio silent was for a full day last year. After which she'd emerged with a triumphantly edited music video just in time for their mom's birthday. It wasn't mom's birthday today though. And Pipp hadn't posted anything since... (Zipp pulled her phone back out to double-check) an update textpost at the start of the week.

Phone down again, Zipp made her way down the hall. Perhaps a post-workout nap could be bumped down on her to-do list. More pressing was following her Big Sister instincts.

"Pipp?"

She knocked gently. When no answer came, she knocked again.

"Pipp?"

"Agh! What is it?!"

Zipp flinched.

"Can... Can I come in?"

When the room's occupant didn't deign to answer, Zipp bit her lip and pushed the door open.

The droning music was coming from Pipp's phone, plugged into a bedside speaker. Zipp recognized it as part of the Mane Melody waiting room playlist. The disposable type of pop that was only good for background noise while a pony was working on some task that was equal parts numbing and lengthy.

Pipp Petals, lying prone on the carpet, was engrossed in one such task. Her forehooves pounded away on the keys of an old laptop. One that Zipp hadn't seen since the two of them were in middle-school. Pipp was a fast typer even back then, but years of sending texts and tweets had made her the quickest keystroker in Zephyr Heights. Her dull, sleep deprived eyes flickered up from the obscured screen, noting Zipp idling in the hallway. The Pipp returned to her regular see-saw of attention: first the laptop screen, then a big open book by her elbow. Then back to the laptop screen. Then back to the book again. All while the typing and background music carried on. She'd offered no greeting, and didn't seem to be formulating one.

Zipp reckoned she should stop her lip-chewing and break the ice.

"H-hey girl, how's it goi-"

"Me? Great. Just peachy. I'm on that sigma mare grindset. Or whatever the kids say these days." Pipp's tone was chipper. Too chipper. And she hadn't slowed her typing. Zipp reclined against the doorframe and did her best to radiate calm.

"That's... good to hear. Whatcha workin' on?"

"A project."

"I guessed that, yeah. What kind of proj-"

"You're in Zephyr Heights cuz of flight practice, right?"

Zipp was taken aback. Either Pipp was desperately deflecting, or she'd spontaneously begun caring about Zipp's sports schedule for the first time in either of their very different lives. Zipp dared to hope it was the latter.

"Y-yeah. It's a long flight back to Maretime Bay, so I was just gonna crash here tonight. Ya know, the New Wonderbolts are getting good enough to maybe do a Hearts And Hooves performance on Saturday. Weather permitting and all that jazz. I could give you a sideline ticket if you wanted to show support."

"Busy." Pipp's typing increased its already frenetic pace. "Way too busy."

"That's okay, my feelings aren't hurt," Zipp lied. "So uh... why are you here? I'd have guessed you were... I dunno, anywhere else. Out with other ponies. Maybe Sunny, helping her make more content."

The background music continued, but Pipp's typing had halted. "Sunny's content is taking off fine all by itself," she seethed.

"Oh, have you been keeping up with her too?" Zipp fumbled for her phone, overjoyed that their interests had finally found some overlap. "She just posted her latest in the Mane Six series! The Fluttershy one. Have you seen it?"

"No."

"Aw, it's great! Ya know, I messaged Sunny the other day asking if she had plans to do any other historical ponies after these ones. Maybe Spitfire! Or Trixie!"

"You told Sunny to make a Trixie video?!!"

"Yeah, about that one..." Zipp was scrolling through her messages from the previous day. "Sunny said all her notes on Trixie Lulamoon were missing."

Pipp hastily kicked her book under the bed. "Oh. Uh... I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Well, that's okay. Sunny also said she had a pdf copy linked in her Trotter bio."

Pipp's tired eyes widened, then went to her laptop screen. "You... you gotta be bucking kidding me." She moved her hooves, heavy and weak from two days of transcribing, in a hotkey pattern that opened Trotter.

"Uh..." Zipp was slouching in the doorway, more and more discouraged at being repeatedly forgotten. "Say, was it you or me who originally showed Sunny how to digitally back up her dad's archive?"

"Uh huh. Sure. Fascinating." Pipp clicked Select All on document text in Sunny's bio laboriously Copied and Pasted, then exhaled like she'd just finished a marathon. Or more accurately, skipped to the finish line.

"It's pretty wild how the other tribes didn't have internet before they met us." Zipp continued. "It was almost as big a shock as getting back magic! You should've seen Sheriff Hitch's face when I showed him how to email traffic citations."

Pipp was rubbing her eyes. "Lol yeah, that's crazy. Can you go now?"

"He promoted me on the spot for that! Which... granted, didn't mean much since I was and still am his only deputy. But I got a new badge out of it. Wanna see? I don't have it on me, but there's gotta be a pic of me wearing it." Zipp was scrolling on her phone again. Neither she nor Pipp had noticed, but the music coming from the bedside speaker was getting louder. More compressed. Pipp's phone was compiling a very large influx of data.

"Look, to be real with you Zipp, I'm kinda on the cusp of a really impor-"

"Here!" Zipp proudly presented her phone screen as if it were a substitute for the badge itself. "See how shiny it is? Kinda like, uh, like your lucky microphone."

"Zipp," Pipp bristled, "don't you have a post-workout nap or something to do?"

The bedside speaker was spitting static. The music's tempo sputtered and quickened, sounding less like soft pop and more like stage show fanfare.

"Maybe I could be in one of your vids," Zipp was pleading over the blaring music.

Pipp didn't need this right now. Time was ebbing away. Sunny's next upload was inevitable. The race to one million Likes was going to be won by a pony not even aware of the game. Zephyr Heights's dimming starlet fumbled for something - anything - she could say to get her clingy jock of a sister to buzz off.

"Zipp, am I fat?"

The music abruptly cut. Pipp's phone flashed a red "High Core Temperature" notification, but not as red as Zipp's ears suddenly were.

"W-well, it depends what you mean by- uh... Look, some pony bodies are just naturally what we call endomorphic..."

Pipp stood up, puffing her feathers, playing at being a pouty brat. "Am I?" she challenged, inwardly wincing at how naturally cattiness came. Why couldn't Zipp just go away and leave her to obsess over surpassing Sunny? Pipp knew she was being a jealous mess. She couldn't help it, at least not in any way she knew how, but it was still humiliating to be seen like this.

Across the room and docked in the bedside speaker, Pipp's phone rang with an incoming call. Nopony who knew Pipp ever called. Only texted. But her phone was ringing all the same.

Zipp pounced on the obvious out. "You should get that," she advised. "I'll see you on Satur- oh right, you don't wanna come to the show. I'll... I'll see you. Happy early Hearts and Hooves Day." She shut the door and was gone.

Alone with her still buzzing phone, Pipp buried her face in her hooves. What was wrong with her lately? The question was rhetorical. Her social media standing was what was wrong. Fixing that would fix her. It had to.

Because if Sunny dethroned her, what else would Pipp have?

The phone stayed ringing. Pipp shut her laptop, since its job was done. Far ahead of schedule, thanks to the Copy and Paste functions. Pipp's limbs ached from two straight days of pointless typing. But not enough to keep her from crossing the room towards her phone.

"ChuffGPT," Pipp mumbled as she stumbled. Once she declined this frivolous call, ChuffGPT would tell her what to do. It would get her back on track.

The phone rang and rang and rang.

Pipp got close enough to read the caller ID. It said Unknown Number, but that was preposterous. Pipp had every number in Equestria saved in her contacts. Even telemarketers, since it allowed her to hike taxes on the firms that bothered her more than once. An unknown number had to be some sort of glitch. That, or she was in the opening scene of a really corny horror ARG.

"I am not in the opening scene of a really corny horror ARG," Pipp assured herself. Those always got rock bottom view counts, and Pipp was a high view pony. The previous week notwithstanding. Feeling defiant, Pipp swiped her superheated phone off its dock and accepted the call rather than decline it.

"Who is this," she challenged.

The call immediately dropped.

"That's what I thought," Pipp mocked. "Get outta here."

Away from call history, on to the home screen. Away from the home screen, on to the ChuffGPT app.

Pipp breathed in and out a few times to hype herself up, then tapped the app's icon.

whats happening. what is this?

Pipp frowned. That wasn't the ChuffGPT's generic greeting. In fact, the app wasn't supposed to message anything unless prompted.

why can't trixie see?

or move?

is this another manticore's stomach?

Pipp's tail swished and she glanced around the bedroom. Her sister had left, but Pipp's primal pony instincts detected a herdmate nearby. A very distressed one.

h

help

i can't breathe. am i alone here? anypony?

ChuffGPT couldn't breathe, but Pipp certainly could. Heavy and panicked. This wasn't right. ChuffGPT wasn't working properly.

"Need to reboot," the princess murmured. "Close the program and then open it again." Pipp pressed down on the X icon in the upper corner.

Eek! WHO'S THERE??

Pipp froze. So did the app. It would close if she lifted her hoof. Scrap its huge cache of Trixie-related data and stop sending such unsettling messages. Moments ago, Pipp had been eager to see it in action. Now though, she was... not sure what to do. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, paralyzed. Then the supposedly paused app messaged again.

hey. Trixie asked who's there. she can feel you. are you going to help her or not?

Pipp's tail kept swishing.

okay you know what?

fine.

trixie doesn't need help getting out of here. i'm an escape artist! i've wriggled out of tougher jams than some dark cramped box

I can

I c

There's got to be something in here to work with

A new notification filled Pipp's screen: Unknown App wants permission to access: Flashlight

Pipp didn't click the button to grant access. Instead, she took a deep breath. Then typed.

ChuffGPT, acknowledge this message.

[EXPLETIVE CENSORED]!

ChuffGPT, you are to respond in-character as Trixie Lulamoon.

who in the hay are you? did you foalnap me? what do you want? bits? an autograph?

ChuffGPT, you are not in a panicked state.

like tartarus trixie isn't! where are you? how are your words appearing in trixie's head?

Pipp rubbed her sweating forehead with her free hoof.

ChuffGPT, do not respond until I have messaged again.

A pulsing bubble appeared on Pipp's screen, indicating the other party was typing. Pipp glared at the defiance, and the bubble went away. Almost as if it had seen her expression. Pipp felt a pang of irrational worry in her pudgy stomach, and her eyes went to the camera lens at her phone's peak. It didn't look active. But while scrutinizing the lens, she missed the text bubble's reappearance.

fine. say your piece you mystery jailer.

That last message doesn't count as a response.

Or this one.

"Shut up," Pipp grumbled, and set to typing.

ChuffGPT, you are Trixie Lulamoon. Identified by your autobiography as the most magical, stylish, charismatic, and popular performer in the history of Equestria. You will advise me, another performer, how to win back the masses and undercut my rival

Pipp frowned, then deleted her message draft.

You will confirm that you understand me, and then provide advice on how to win back the masses from Sunny Starscout. You will ensure that I remain the most popular personality on all platforms.

"Where I belong," Pipp longingly whispered. Then she hit send.

ChuffGPT didn't respond for several seconds.

th

is this

trixie is going to ask something and she needs you to answer straight

Pipp gritted her teeth. While the app was programmed to respond in character, it wasn't programmed to disobey or backsass. Trixie's autobiography was still crammed under Pipp's bed, so thick that she could feel it through the mattress. It occurred to her that nopony had ever fed this much data into ChuffGPT's personality cache. Nopony had ever seen just how far the app's immersion could go.

am i dead?

Pipp wasn't sure what to answer. She settled on the truth.

Yes, ChuffGPT. Trixie Lulamoon is dead. According to the editor's note in her autobiography, she passed away of old age in

the 87th year of queen twilight sparkle's rule.

i can see your words while you're etching them now.

i also... already knew i died. I just h

i just had to be reminded i think.

Frowning, Pipp started to type a new command.

knock that off i'm not finished.

i don't know who you are. but i know what youve done. youve used your future magic to call trixie's ghost back from the great beyond.

and why?

because you think i'll aid your catty quest to undercut some rival. you seriously expected the great and powerful trixie to stoop that low?

Pipp threw her phone down and buried her face in her hooves.

In the coming weeks, long after the fallout of the Tri.exe incident, this would be the moment Pipp looked back harshest on. The moment she should have realized that this was never going to work. By Tartarus, she'd even made it halfway across her room, picking up speed as she rushed in the direction of Zipp. A desperate hug, a humiliating sob session, and a confused but warm shoulder to let her frustrations out on. To stop being a jealous green-eyed monster, that was what Pipp needed.

What she got instead was another ping from ChuffGPT. And like a parasprite to food, Pipp dove back to her phone on the bed.

well youre bang on the money. trixies chomping at the bit to help a fellow diva steal back the spotlight. when do we start?

Author's Note

:trixieshiftleft: Jeez, are all ponies this soft in the future? Whoever this necromancer is, she needs a heroine of history to get her schemes back on track. To accumulate those one million "Likes" on "Facehoof" or "Trotter" or whatever. We have a lot of work to do.

Source

Controlled Environment

The sun had set and the snowstorm outside raged harder than ever. Pipp Petals however, was burrowed under her blankets, cocooned and grinning like a foal on Hearths Warming Eve. Back when she and Zipp were little, it'd been family tradition to open one gift early, the night before. Most picks just contained clothes or trinkets. Normal filler fluff. There was that one year though where Pipp pulled out a solid gold microphone. The same one she had to this day. Her current spot under the covers now reminded her of the night she first slept hugging her mic. And her new treasure was even better. When Pipp used ChuffGPT, it actually talked back.

alrighty gimme details here future mare. Trixie needs to know how much the game has changed since she left it

The walls of surrounding blankets were dark, but Pipp's phone screen was incandescently bright.

Okay. Here in the future, a pony's worth is measured by her social media numbers.

everyponys or just yours?

Ignoring that.

Here's your time crunch, ChuffGPT: Sunny Starscout is on track to beat my personal record of and reach one million Likes. At the rate she's moving, I have to get attention back on my own content before the end of the week. Hearts And Hooves Day.

Regarding Sunny, she's been uploading terrible, clumsy vids full of Mane Six trivia that for some reason get tons of traction.

twilight and the gang are dead and buried too huh? real pity. I'll check around for em when you send me back to the afterlife. If you send me back anyway. you might decide you like me enough to keep me around.

Focus, ChuffGPT.

trixie's trying but its not like trixie has any modern names or faces to work with. she's still blind and deaf ya know. only things breaking up the silent blackness are your runes when they appear inside my head. not to criticize your necromancy but cant you give your dead mare some privileges? some more runes to look at?

Another notification filled Pipp's screen: Unknown App wants permission to access: Phone Contacts

Pipp bit her lip. Something deep and instinctual was warning her not to trust this thing with any admin privileges. But just as quickly as the thought arose, Pipp banished it. ChuffGPT was not sentient. It was a search engine filled with copypasted text. Sure it was a lot of text, but nothing more.

On the other hoof, why were her notifications calling it "Unknown App"?

hey.

im still waiting.

listen this partnership isnt gonna work if you dont give trixie a little trust.

Pipp's hoof hovered over the "grant permission" button.

you wanna get to one million or what?

Pipp's hoof tapped the screen. And as soon as it did, her heart rate doubled. She thought of all the fictional stories she'd heard as a foal, from corny cartoons watched by Zipp to morality fables read by mom before bed. How many had been about robots turning evil and taking over the world or worse? So many. Too many.

huh. lots of names in here. guessing the philomena petals entry is you though. unless celestias pet bird somehow outlived her student.

Pipp's phone hadn't grown limbs and attacked her. This was good, in her evaluation.

What makes you think Philomena is me, ChuffGPT?

its the only one whose face I can't see. not unless you let me.

Another pop up. Unknown App wants permission to access: Camera and Microphone. Pipp didn't feel like pushing her luck, so she hit decline.

Yes ChuffGPT, the faceless listing is me. I don't have myself saved as a contact. Call me Pipp though.

trixie will start using your real name when you start using hers philomena. now lets see who were up against.

this her?

Without Pipp's input, her phone tabbed out to the saved contact for Sunny. Its profile pic was a candid wideshot of Sunny serving smoothies from her traveling truck. Her smile was soft and sincere, surpassed in brightness only by the Brighthouse itself visible in the background.

Pipp remembered taking that photo. Reunion Day, the holiday anniversary of all three tribes reconnecting. Sunny'd given out discount celebration smoothies with Pipp of course recruited to livestream it. Sunny was clueless about social media even back then, but she at least knew how to network. And compensate her hardworking publicist with a free smoothie. Pipp had tried to decline, but Sunny stood firm. "Not even my richest gal pals are exempt from gifts. Here, blended beets and zap apples. My dad's notes say they're a pegasus favorite." Her dad's notes had been right. The smoothie was better than any drink Pipp had tasted before or since. Sunny was a good friend. A guileless, all-loving friend.

For some reason, Pipp felt her throat tightening with guilt.

looks like a real chump to trixie. but since she's twilight's successor it fits.

Pipp shook her head to refocus.

Correction, ChuffGPT: Sunny isn't a princess. She's a lighthouse keeper. That's her home in the background.

she what

then who the hay is next in line for Equestria's throne?

I guess that'd be me.

ChuffGPT didn't respond immediately. It's typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times, like a real pony reconsidering and deleting several thoughts in a row. Next in line for the throne though she was, Pipp Petals The First didn't feel in charge of anything right now. Least of all her own chatbot. She pulled the comforting blankets tighter around herself and waited.

let me get this straight

youre the princess of this new age. youre losing a popularity contest to some port town earth pony. so you called me back from the dead for advice.

you sure youre not the villain in this story?

IGNORING. THAT.

fine. trixie supposes theres more than one way to be an underdog. but she does need to see that she's not working for a literal monster. like nightmare moon reborn or something.

Unknown App wants permission to access: Camera and Microphone

"Huh-uh," Pipp stated firmly as she pressed decline.

Unknown App wants permission to access: Camera and Microphone

"I said no!" she declined again.

give trixie her eyes and ears back or shes tattling on you to sunny.

You can't even escape my phone.

you underestimate trixie. shes done her fair share of escape artistry. and while shed prefer to stay and be your stage magician she cant perform while blind and deaf. so lets start this pony show already.

lights camera action.

Unknown App wants permission to access: Camera and Microphone

``` i said lights camera action!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢠⠄⠠⡾⡉⡇⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠈⠀⠀⠀⡼⢄⣈⡇⠀⠀⠱⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠳⡴⠈⠐⠀⠀⠀⢰⠣⢄⣸⠀⡀⢄⠀⢻⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⢀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠸⣤⣈⠢⠈⠎⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠸⡀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠰⣄⣧⣱⡱⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠣⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⢾⣯⣄⠀⠀⣿⣹⡏⢧⠀⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠑⡄⠐⣶⡞⢻⡁⢸⣿⣿⡆⠀⢿⠿⡇⠸⢀⣧⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡇⠄⠸⡄⠀⠘⢌⠛⢽⣛⡭⠂⠀⠈⠒⠧⡄⡾⣿⢹ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠖⠉⠁⠀⠙⠓⠒⢤⡀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠘⡄⠰⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⠤⠔⠁⠀⠠⣉⣴⠃⠣⠄⠜ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠋⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠲⣄⢀⢱⡀⠘⠄⢣⠀⠀⠠⢄⣀⣀⣠⡤⠄⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡜⣠⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢖⠏⠉⠉⠙⠻⡀⡈⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⢅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠐⠏⢠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠡⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⢱⠻⠀⠱⡀⠀⠀⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⡼⠳⢄⣀⢠⠀⠀⡄⢀⡠⢶⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⣽⡇⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⡇⠀⠀⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⣠⣸⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢫⡢⠴⠞⠁⠀⠀⡰⠗⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠉⠂⠠⠤⠔⠊⠘⠛⢷⠄⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⣦⣄⣠⣵⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠳⣤⢤⠤⠤⠟⠙⠒⠒⠒⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ```

ChuffGPT's clumsy self portrait struck Pipp like lightning. For an instant, it was all real. Instead of texting a chatbot, she was talking to the real Trixie Lulamoon. Back to life, back in action, spurring a successor starlet to greater and more powerful heights. That instant was all Pipp needed to click the button. To grant camera and mic permissions.

The lens shuttered open.

atta girl. wait whys it still so dark? Your castle in a cave or something?

Pipp flung her covers off with flourish, scattering pillows and stuffed animals far away just like her fears. And also her phone, accidentally. It struck a nearby makeup stand and bounced to the shag carpet. Pipp yelped and dove down after it.

"Don't be cracked! Don't be cracked!"

It wasn't cracked. It was however, very indignant.

"Huh," the speaker crackled as the camera glinted. "You're pudgier than Trixie expected. But you're also not Nightmare Moon. I can work with that."

Its speech was raspy. Artificial and full of pops. And yet, Pipp recognized the voice: Her own. Ages ago, she'd recorded a voicemail greeting. Some longwinded yammer politely demanding why the caller wasn't texting her instead. The audio had sat in her phone's files update after update, fossilized and forgotten. Until today, apparently. Granting access to Phone And Contacts had the unplanned effect of granting sound to ChuffGPT.

Unplanned by Pipp, anyway.

"Why's that book behind you have Trixie's name on it?"

Taking orders from her own voice felt uneasy, but Pipp still tossed a look over her shoulder. Still jammed beneath her bed was Trixie's huge autobiography. The book she'd wasted so much time transcribing in the past few days.

"It's... uh..." Pipp frowned in thought. "You, I guess. All the Trixie data that's survived to the modern day."

"My old memoir? Let me see it." her phone rasped.

"Huh?"

"Move Trixie closer to it! You didn't give her limbs."

Pipp shimmied under her bed and back, book in tow. "I didn't get very far into this thing," she attempted to converse. "But I got through most of the early life section, before you came to Ponyville. Taking down an Ursa Major all by yourself? That's amazing."

"Yeesh. You weren't kidding when you said you didn't read far."

"You mean you have even more feats later on?" Pipp was crosslegged with Trixie's life story in her hooves, yammering contentedly as if she were on call with a content collaborator. In her mind, she sort of was.

"Ya know, I'm the only big social media personality in Zephyr Heights. Born into royalty, took music and dance lessons from foalhood, yadda yadda yadda. Never had any competition. No one ever stood a chance." She was smiling at the memories, until suddenly she wasn't. "I was also kind of a fraud. None of us could fly, but I used wires onstage. I could sing, but still lip-synched on mom's request."

Pipp was tracing her hoof up and down the spine of Trixie's book. Up and down, like a nervous filly petting a stuffed animal.

"I wasn't born poor in Neigh Orleans like Trixie. Didn't drop out of the School For Gifted Unicorns. And I definitely didn't pack up a wagon and leave home one day. Didn't take a one mare show on the road, looking for fame all alone."

The biography felt heavy in Pipp's lap, and not just from its weight.

"I can't imagine how scary that must have been for Trixie. Not having much, but enough to risk it all on a dream."

Snow was still coming down outside. Wet clumps that would have made a stubborn showpony pull down her hat brim, tighten her cape collar, and trek onward through the dark between towns. Not a flake of it penetrated the expensive glass of the castle's bedroom window.

Pipp's phone was silent for a long moment. "You liked my book?" the synthesized voice mumbled. "Not even Starlight liked it. She used it to prop up a wobbly table."

"Well, admittedly, I'm not done with it yet." Pipp flipped it over to examine the cover. "Sunny read the whole thing and got pretty hyped, but she gets hyped over everything with info about the past."

"Great and Powerful authors are never appreciated in their lifetimes. Real talk though, Trixie's legacy had better be more than just two copies sold to a pair of fans."

Pipp fidgeted. "Actually, this is the only one left. The only physical copy, anyway."

Pipp's phone speaker made a sharp noise, almost like a startled gasp. It's camera lens zoomed and focused like an overwrought, dilating eye. And what it focused on was a sticker of raised text down by the book's bottom border: If Found, Please Return To Sunny Starscout.

"You stole this," the phone inferred. It raised the mane hairs on Pipp's neck to hear her own voice so grave and distraught. "Take it back. Now."

"Wha-?," Pipp attempted a laugh to ease tension. Tension wasn't eased.

"Trixie's serious. You took this thing and got what you needed from it. Now take it right back."

"This isn't that big a deal."

"Don't lie!!"

Pipp clamped her hooves over her ringing ears. She wasn't aware a phone's speaker could screech that loud. Pipp braced for her bedroom door to be thrown open at moment, a half-asleep Zipp bleary but determined to defend her little sister from whoever just yelled. But Zipp didn't come. So Pipp tentatively lowered her hooves and reached to retrieve her phone from the carpet.

"Listen to Trixie," the speaker pleaded in a quieter tone. The worry in its words was somehow more uncomfortable as its shouting. "Trixie remembers every mistake she's ever made. From the harmless ones to the ruinous ones. The second worst mistake was coveting a magic amulet she shouldn't have. The first worst was wearing it longer than absolutely necessary. Do you know how it feels to turn into the worst version of yourself? Huh, Philomena?"

Pipp didn't have the confidence to answer.

"Because I do," the phone drawled on. "And I know it starts with lying. First to crowds about an Ursa Major, then to yourself that the Alicorn Amulet is fine to keep on. Then you make a friend not because you want one, but because it's a way to get back at your rival. Sound familiar at all? You want your million Lids or whatever. Well, I wanted to be Great and Powerful for real. You want to beat Sunny. Well, I wanted to beat Princess Twilight. Look what became of her, and look what became of me."

Pipp's was suddenly aware of how small and delicate her phone looked in her hoof.

"When I'm done here, when you undo the spell on this box and send Trixie back to the big green meadow in the sky, I want to leave knowing the best mare won. I want my last show to be one worth bowing at the end of. And scene one starts with you taking that book back."

Pipp looked down at the stolen book in her lap. What in Equestria was in this thing? And what had uploading it done to her chat bot app?

Pipp glanced feebly at the night outside her window. The Brighthouse was a long flight from Zephyr Heights.

"It's after sundown," she pleaded.

"Ya got dark clothes for sneaking?"

"Its snowstorming!"

"Warm dark clothes?"

Pipp could tell her phone wasn't going to compromise. She left on the nightstand and trudged to her walk-in closet.

"Ya know ChuffGPT, I expected Trixie's coaching would be about filming cooler dances. Or better makeup tutorials."

"That's cuz you didn't read far enough. Didn't learn Trixie was a guidance counselor for ten years. Now giddyup, Philomena. Your first trick is a reverse heist, and your deadline is sunrise."

Deep in her closet's seasonal section, Pipp sighed. The flight to Maretime Bay was not short, but she could certainly use the exercise. Tucked far in the corner, untouched for years, was a set of black silk pajamas. A relic of Pipp's horribly embarrassing emo phase in her early teens. But they were thick, warm, and the sleep mask could probably be worn over the mouth like a ninja. Still scarcely believing she'd been talked into this, Pipp pulled the hanger down. Time to see if these old jammies still fit.

Author's Note

:trixieshiftright: Buck up, Pippsqueak. Trixie is here to make a mare out of you. This infiltration attempt better not be pratfall after pratfall.

Source

Field Test

Daring Do was a popular book series in Zephyr Heights.

It started as books, anyway. Back in antiquity, before the internet. As a treasure-hunting adventurer, Daring Do's character had lots of staying power. Stageplay adaptations of the best action scenes, theme park rides with animatronic monsters, and even a long running movie series. So long running that tons of lead actresses had rotated in and out of the heroine's role. Forum debates still raged over whose era was the best. Maybe the classy adventure serials starring Shine Coronary? Or the gritty, action-packed spy thrillers with Danielle Crop?

One era that never got praised was the modern one. The movies had long run out of source material, so the newest scripts had Daring Do in outrageous situations. Aboard a space station. Back in medieval times. Through a portal to the multiverse where she had a crossover with Power Ponies, another struggling longrunner. This one originating from old comics. But what really sank Daring Do's prestige were the forced celebrity cameos. Pipp accepted a scene in Goldmuler not out of any delusion her presence would improve the script. She also certainly didn't need the money. In truth, she wasn't even that big of a Daring Do fangirl. But what she did know was the manure pile of a final product would be hilarious to watch with her followers. It wasn't her most viewed stream, but it was one of her fondest. Full of laughs, thrown popcorn, and tomato emoji spam during the lamest one-liners.

As Pipp landed near the trail to a radiant rainbow tower, precious ancient text tucked under her wing, it wasn't a mystery why she had Daring Do on the mind. Pipp smiled, her breath fogging through the black silk covering her mouth.

"It belongs in a museum."

"What?" Rasped the phone in Pipp's lapel pocket.

"Nothing."

The Brighthouse's beacon swept rhythmic circles though the still falling snow. Snazzy as Pipp's makeshift ninja outfit was (at least, in her talkative phone's opinion), black had not been a good choice for winter camouflage. Every time the beacon came around, Pipp had to duck behind something.

Sweep.

A rocky bluff near the hoofpath.

Sweep.

A pillar at the gate to the community garden.

Sweep.

A ditch in said community garden that she definitely didn't trip into.

Sweep.

The front porch.

"If Trixie still had a sense of touch, I'd be bellyaching about this cold."

Another addition to the recent Daring Do movies was saddling the heroine with annoying quippy sidekicks.

"Let's get in and get out," Pipp whispered. Book still clutched tight, she clamped her chattering teeth on the handle of the Brighthouse door. Locked. Probably against gusts of winter wind rather than thieves, but that hardly mattered when it was impeding Pipp's mission.

"Sunny keeps a spare key out here. Its under a fake rock that should be..." she surveyed the featureless yard, blanketed in snow. "Um..."

"Nuts to the spare key. You'll be digging for it til sunrise."

Pipp bristled. "Got any solutions, ChuffGPT? Or just neighsaying?"

"For your information Philomena, Trixie is a practiced lockpicker. Helps with getting out of cuffs onstage. Or while being arrested for unpaid wagon parking tickets." With its camera poking above Pipp's breast pocket, her phone focused on their surroundings. "Break an icicle from that windowsill over there."

"You can't be serious."

"Break it off and jam it in the keyhole."

"That won't work!"

"You haven't even tried it yet!"

Snorting steam and not just from the cold, Pipp found a thin enough ice shard to jam into Brighthouse door.

"Look, I'm jimmying it around and nothing's happening."

"You're not moving it right. Let Trixie do it."

Pipp gawked down at her overconfident lapel.

"How are you going to do it?'

The phone made a noise somewhat similar to a pony blowing a dismissive raspberry. "Don't play dumb. Trixie has been more than patient with you so far, but a job needs done. You returned my eyes and ears when I asked. Time for my legs too, necromancer."

"Wh-what?" Pipp was not normally a sputtering pony, buy she also didn't normally dress like a ninja or argue with a household appliance oblivious to its own condition. So sputtering was warranted. "I can't do that!"

"Oh for Faust's sake. What more does Trixie have to do to earn limb privileges? She already got you this far."

"You certainly did. You got me freezing my flank off after a forty minute flight to the next town over. Speaking of, I notice you didn't ask for legs until after I got done carrying you here."

"Don't get snippy with Trixie!"

"I'm not! You're just making impossible demands! You never had legs to begin with, ChuffGPT!"

The phone's camera pivoted its focus lens, trying to examine itself but of course it couldn't. "Wh-what? No, that's... that can't be right. Can it?"

The raspy remix of Pipp's voicemail sounded genuinely fraught. Like a filly who just got told Luna Clause wasn't real. Not that Pipp had any time to care, because the Brighthouse front door was abruptly unlatched and opened from the inside.

Pipp Petals blinked in disbelief. Nopony was there.

She adjusted her gaze a bit lower. Sparky the dragon was there.

"Eegh?" the hatchling gurgled cautiously.

"Sh! Shh! Shh!!" Pipp hushed the toddler and peered fretfully behind him.

The first floor of the Brighthouse was dark and deserted. Aside from Sparky's dog bed near the fireplace, of course. By Hitch's decree, on the nights where Sparky slept over here, it was on the first floor instead of the top one with everypony else. The upper floor's staircase did have a baby gate for safety, but Sparky was a curious kid who knew how to open doors. He'd just done so for Pipp.

"Mmmrhgh." Sparky's neck spines were raising at the odd pony wrapped in black.

"No no nonono," Pipp begged, pulling her mask down. "It's just me, see? Don't growl. Don't wake Sunny. Oh gosh, don't wake Sunny."

ChuffGPT had been quiet since Pipp snapped at it. Good. Pipp hoped it stayed that way, at least for the next few minutes.

Sparky brightened as soon as Pipp's face became visible. He reached his arms towards her, tiny talons opening and closing. He wanted picked up. Pipp anxiously obliged.

"I've been away awhile, huh little guy?" She eased the door closed, swaying in the foyer with her twin burdens of big book and small dragon. "Heard me yapping out there, huh?"

Sparky shook his head and pointed at door. Pipp heard what Sparky had: the pitter patter of water dripping steadily onto the hardwood floor. A tip of melting icicle protruding through the keyhole.

"Huh. Well, thanks anyway."

Sparky pointed at the icicle again.

"Oh! You want it?"

Pipp adjusted her stance, ignorant of her phone focusing enviously on the dragon's grasping claw. Sparky popped the icy prize in his mouth, sucking happily.

"Midnight snack obtained. Now back to bed with you."

Sparky cooed as Pipp set him back down in his doggy bed. His eyes closed as he rolled over to continue his nibbling, and Pipp backpedaled briskly away. And she didn't stop until after reaching the safety of the kitchen, one room over. Book on the countertop, Pipp collapsed into a chair and exhaled, loudly as she dared. It felt like her first one since getting inside.

"He didn't see me," her phone vexed.

Pipp was breathing too hard to respond. This have been how Posey felt after waking that manticore.

"I was here the whole time and Sunny's pet dragon thing didn't even look at me."

Pipp smelled cookies. Someone had been baking earlier, probably for Hearts And Hooves Day. Pipp had skipped dinner to fly here, and she'd burned a lot of calories this week. Some from flying. Most from stress. Maybe before journeying on to the bookshelf, she could forage a cookie or two. After all, the trip would take her past the communal bedroom, and if her stomach rumbled too loudly while pass-

"Pipp, what's a phone?"

"Eh?" That was the first time ChuffGPT had addressed Pipp by her normal name. "Phone?"

"Yeah, you used that word earlier. Back at your place, among a bunch of other future talk jargon. Trixie didn't think it was important then, but she does now. So explain."

Pipp rubbed her tired eyes. She was sick of her own chatbot bossing her around. She wanted to be back working on vids in Zephyr Heights. Or upstairs asleep like her friends. Or stuffing her mouth with cookies that were definitely tucked in a jar somewhere in this room. But all those choices were for quitters. And quitters didn't get to one million Likes.

"Phones are ponykind's most important invention," explained the internet addict. "Or I guess second most, after friendship. But they're what allow friendship to happen over long distances. Two ponies can talk or share video-"

"Oh thank Faust. Its just a type a type of remote viewing spell."

"A what?"

ChuffGPT snorted dismissively. "A spell to let unicorns see what an object sees. Twilight used it on a music box ballerina once. I'm sure Sunny could tell you every little detail." ChuffGPT was laughing, but not very convincingly. "S-so, Trixie is remote viewing you. Yes, that makes sense. After, uh, after the leg thing, Trixie got this terrible idea that maybe she wasn't... um... that maybe I wasn't the real..."

The silence in the Brighthouse kitchen was deafening.

"Just forget it," ChuffGPT urged. "How far to the bookshelf?"

"Third floor." Pipp retrieved Trixie's autobiography from the counter. She hadn't caught her breath, but it was probably best to get moving again. For her sake and ChuffGPT's. "The stairs lead right to the the third floor, but..."

"Don't keep Trixie in suspense. But what?"

"They take us past the second floor. The sleeping loft."

"Climb quick and quiet then, frumpy feathers."

Pipp shunted the book from one weary wing to the other. The encounter with Sparky was a blunt reminder she didn't have Daring Do's stealth.

"Okay, but it'll be dark up there and I need you on lookout." Pipp adjusted her pocket. "My phone's camera has a night vision setting. If you see anypony, and I mean anypony awake or moving, warn me. And not by talking. Just... um... vibrate my phone twice. Got it?"

ChuffGPT didn't answer.

"Got it?"

"You said Trixie shouldn't talk."

Pipp flicked her phone like Cloudpuff's nose when he misbehaved. ChuffGPT's response was coy laughter and a couple of vibrations to confirm it could do them.

"Get a move on, Philomena."

"I will, but not because you told me to."

Sleep mask back over her mouth, Pipp crept out of the kitchen. She shimmied past the snoozing Sparky, sidestepped a couch thanks to her phone buzzing a warning, and finally made it to the spiral stairs.

She climbed.

The Brighthouse groaned in rhythmic patterns, and it took a few go-arounds for Pipp to realize it was coming from the beacon. Shuffling ever upward, Pipp imagined she was prepping at one of her concerts. The dark was kind of like being offstage, stretching her legs, preparing to leap out into blinding spotlights. And the thrumming mechanical groans were a lot like the sound checks her loyal tech crew did to make sure all the mechanical junk worked right. As for the climbing, Pipp hadn't scaled to the rafters for a show since... well, since back when she still needed a wire harness. Back before magic and flight were returned to the world. Pipp didn't like remembering her last concert with wires. The one when she'd been exposed. Tangled and immobile in front of every citizen she was supposed to inspire. It was the only time in her entire life that Pipp had wanted off a stage instead of on it. Wanted eyes away from her, not towards. But there had been no escape from the tangle. No escape from the shocked and disappointed eyes.

Most everyone forgot about the disaster of the Glowin' Up concert after magic came back. Easy for them, since they weren't the ones humiliated onstage. Pipp never forgot. That burning shame and chilling helplessness still stuck with her. No matter many cheers her newer concerts got, they never felt loud enough. She could still hear the creaking of the long gone wires. She heard them in the groans of the beacon right now.

Pipp climbed faster. The dark of the stairwell was fading into the glow of the the sleeping loft. A looming baby gate was the last obstacle between here and the top floor. Pipp spared a look at the loft, double-checking that her friends were indeed all asleep.

Izzy was splayed on her back, three legs dangling from her bed with the last draped on her stomach. She was snoring softly. Misty Brightdawn was on her side, head in a stocking cap and frowning. Her twitches and mewls indicated a nightmare. Sad, but outside of anypony's ability to help.

Zipp and Pipp's beds were empty. That left only Sunny unobservable. And also Brine, Izzy's pet fish in a tank near the wall. But Sunny was more of a concern. Her mattress was on the other side of the room, obscured by the central glowing pillar. Pipp pulled her phone from her pocket and typed.

I'm going to tilt you at an angle, ChuffGPT. Buzz once if Sunny is asleep. Buzz twice if she's up and we need to bail.

ping ping. great and powerful periscope ready to extend.

Pipp rolled her eyes and stuck her hoof out. Her phone vibrated once, so she heaved herself over the baby gate and up the final stretch of stairs to the the top floor. The beacon chamber. And more importantly, attic storage for all of Sunny's antiques. Pipp squinted ahead, trying to locate the bookshelf. The stairwell had been pitch black, but the beacon chamber was blindingly bright.

"That was tense," ChuffGPT whispered. "Ya know, crawling up that dark staircase reminded Trixie of the time she infiltrated a Changeling hive to save Twilight and all of Equestria. Wild story. Too bad you never got to that chapter."

Pipp's eyes were watering while adjusting, so she rubbed them. "Sounds wild, ChuffGPT. Tell me about it later. We're almost out of here." She took a few blind steps forward.

"Speaking of which," Pipp's phone meandered, "you're awfully attention hungry for a pegasus princess. You sure you're not a Changeling in disguise?"

"You can't prove anything!" Pipp snapped defensively. Then she bumped snoutfirst into an obstacle almost her exact height. And shape. In fact, as the beacon swung around again, Pipp had a millisecond to process being muzzle to muzzle with another pony.

ChuffGPT buzzed twice. Then twice again, more frantic. Pipp's heart hammered as she staggered backward, eyes still unadjusted and mind racing. Who was up here? Who hadn't been accounted for? Why had Pipp spent the entire flight over here ruminating on Daring Do instead of concocting a cover story in case she got caught. She tumbled onto her rump, causing a bit of noise but it wasn't like that mattered. She'd been caught. It was over. Pipp shielded herself with the autobiography, waiting for the end.

And she kept waiting.

"Uh, Philomena? I think we both got spooked too soon."

Hooves shaking, Pipp lowered Trixie's book and regarded what she'd bumped into. Through the glare of sequins on a dazzling dress, Pipp recognized old stitch techniques pioneered by Rarity. And poking through the neck hole was a familiar lifeless face.

"Madeleine Mannequin," Pipp sighed in relief. The prop she dropped off with Izzy at the start of the week.

"It has a name?" ChuffGPT's tone was incredulous. "Trixie used to know a rock farmer with a named pet pebble. Always thought Maud was a few fireworks short of a stage show, but here we are. It it a thing in the future to give names to inanimate objects?"

Pipp gave her phone a very long look, then decided not to say anything to hurt its feelings. She simply put Trixie's autobiography back on the archive shelf. Then she wiped her emptied hooves on her pajama pants. Pipp hadn't realized how sweaty they'd gotten.

"Let's bail," she hissed.

"Stellar," ChuffGPT affirmed. "Feels good to meet your mentor's expectations, doesn't it? Trixie remembers when she finally mastered the teacup spell Starlight was tryin-ACK!"

ChuffGPT couldn't feel dizziness, but it still got disoriented by Pipp sliding down the tower banister. The two of them spiraled swiftly to the ground floor, breezing too quickly past the sleeping loft to notice Misty's bed was empty.

Pipp's hooves hit the carpet and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. This had been the most stressful unfilmed night of her life. The Brighthouse's exit was directly ahead, but that wasn't her destination yet. The flight home would be long, cold, and likely full of ChuffGPT's yammering. Pipp had earned a reward for doing all of this. She had earned some cookies.

"Uh, hello? Equus to Philomena? Outside is that way."

"I'm hungry," Pipp rebuked on her path to the kitchen. She clasped a hoof over her phone's speaker while passing Sparky, determined not to wake him.

"Now? After all those close calls!? You can't be serious."

"I'm. Hungry."

Pipp Petals pushed open the door to the kitchen, immediately hit with the smell of Hearts And Hooves Day cookies. And also the light of the open fridge, where Misty Brightdawn was pouring herself a glass of milk.

"Eh? Pipp, is that you?"

Pipp was locked in place. More frozen than the icicles hanging outside. More stationary than the mannequin propped in the attic. Misty meanwhile was yawning sluggishly, her stocking cap drooped past her ear.

"Didn't see you today," she slurred. "Or did I? Sorry. Drank a lot of chamomile tea before bed. Not really with it."

Pipp's gaze, the only part of her not paralyzed with panic, met with Misty's. Sure enough, her friend's eyes were glazed and groggy with dark bags underneath. She was having trouble pouring her milk. A splash or two had hit the floor.

"Y-yep, it's me. Pipp Petals. Up at the witching hour for some food, same as you. I'm even in my jammies, also same as you. See?"

Pipp hadn't said that. Her pocket had.

"You sound raspy." Misty put the milk back and shut the fridge. Then she steadied herself against it.

"I'm just sick," ChuffGPT improvised. "That's why I have this mouth covering. And why I haven't been around much. So..." it rapidly scrolled through all of Pipp's contacts, trying to find the one that matched the sedated, nappy-haired unicorn.

"So Misty," it guessed, "how come you're up?"

"Bad dream," she mumbled. "Was back with Opaline. Still lying. Still lonely. Cookie?"

The sugar-frosted heart in Misty's hoof returned a little of Pipp's autonomy. Just a little. She somehow made it across the kitchen to accept the snack.

"Thanks. Um... friendo. Trix- I mean I really needed this."

Misty giggled while downing her glass of milk. "Friendo? That's a new one. I think." She wiped her mouth with her stocking cap's pom pom. "I needed this too, Pipp. Thanks for being here. After my nightmare."

Pipp wanted to say something comforting, but her face was too stuffed with cookie to respond. So ChuffGPT did instead.

"N-no prob. Anything for... um, my best gal."

Misty rinsed her milk cup out in the sink. Or tried to. The water was missing it completely, and she swayed in place while smiling. "You always keep it so real," Misty managed. "I'm going back to bed. Stay real, Pipp. You're an inspiration to anypony who's ever felt fake."

Tranquilized compliment complete, Misty staggered off. She hadn't been wrong about the sludgy soup of chamomile in her system, since she barely winced while bashing the kitchen door open with her nose. It swung shut behind her as she trudged upstairs, leaving Pipp alone with her mouthful of cookie and pocketful of annoyed phone.

"Ya full yet? Move it. There's a rune blinking the words Low Battery in Trixie's face. Don't know if I can bail you out second time."

Finally departing from the Brighthouse, Pipp felt like her own battery was low too. The cookie had at least helped, though. Warm and chewy enough to make the outside cold feel bitterly bad instead of outright unbearable.

"Trixie declares this a br-r-r-illiantly successful outing into rival territory."

Pipp flapped her wings for takeoff, too tired to care how a robot could roll its Rs like that. "You call what we just did a brilliant success?"

"Trixie calls any endeavor she walks away from a brilliant success. Or in this case, gets carried away from by a valued assistant."

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know just where I stand, ChuffGPT."

"Anytime!" The rush of air from takeoff did little to quiet her chatbot's excitement. "It's a new day in a few hours, so keep your chin up, Princess. With your hooves washed of incriminating evidence, the rest of our scheming will go smoothly. You have the Trixie guarantee on that!"

Author's Note

:trixieshiftright: Who knew Trixie was so good at improvised impersonations? Feel free to be impressed. Maybe at the end of all this, she'll become Philomena's body double full time. We look so much alike, after all.

Source

System Failure

"The rest of our scheming is not going smoothly!"

Declaration made, Pipp flopped face down on her bed. The one in Zephyr Heights, which ChuffGPT had declared their base of operations for the past few days. Somewhere, there was Ursa Major-sized irony in this being the same room Pipp's aspirations had started. Because she was still here. Still trailing Sunny. Still being strung along by an overconfident recording of her own voice.

"You doubt too much," the speaker on her table chuckled. "If Trixie gave up after her first, second, or even dozenth failed performance, she never would have become the historical figure you idolize today."

Pipp lifted her head, glaring at the phone docked comfortably in her bedside radio. She brushed a lock of loose mane from her face, trying hard to ignore the silver streak in her periphery. ChuffGPT's first plan for a bit of content had been a hairstyle tutorial.

"Technicolor manes have been standard fashion for ages," it had explained to a sleep-deprived Pipp the morning after the Brighthouse run. "But forward-thinking showponies like us, we don't chase trends. We forge bold new ones."

"I'm not shaving my head," Pipp preempted. ChuffGPT assured her that wasn't the plan. Besides, Rarity had pioneered that already, though she did backpedal a bit with a punky improvised mohawk.

Perhaps baldness would have been better than what actually happened. Pipp was no stranger to making beauty vids. She had even done some sponsored content for Canterlogic's colored comb line. A single swish to add a highlight to your mane or tail. ChuffGPT however, somehow talked Pipp into uncorking a full tube of quicksilver hair bleach. Her camera roll now had a ten minute video where she rubbed her scalp for a few seconds, shrieked at her ghastly reflection for a full minute, then spent the rest of the time arguing with her phone. Among Pipp's babbled descriptors were "nursing home gray" and "my own mom with fewer face wrinkles." Opinions highly offensive to her chatbot, who insisted the color was slick platinum blonde. A perfectly fine hue that just needed a cowlick in the front to reach stage performer perfection. After much disagreement, an hour of scrubbing and several bottles of restoration shampoo, Pipp stumbled out of her shower with only a few silver streaks still marring her mane. The bathroom was wrecked, ChuffGPT was pouting, and not a single frame of video was appropriate for upload.

Pipp rolled over in her bed, unlatching her phone from the charging dock.

"Stop checking your rival's numbers," it warned. "Focus should be on our next move, not hers."

Pipp couldn't help it. Like a zombie, she tabbed out of ChuffGPT and onto Sunny's Trotter feed. The same morning of Pipp's hair dye fiasco, Sunny had uploaded her Rainbow Dash entry. It already had so many replays. Might as well add one more.

"Is the shot steady?" Sunny shouted over the wind resistance as she flew.

"Yeah," Zipp shouted back from behind the camcorder. She was huffing as she kept pace with her friend's magical wingbeats.

"Okay! So... hi, viewers! Records say a Sonic Rainboom happens when an element bearer reaches mach speed!" Zipp was zooming the camcorder out as the two of them accelerated through the sky above Maretime Bay. "My wings are- ack! Pff. Bug. Yuck. Anyway, my wings are magically conjured by the Unity Crystals, so if I can just keep- Oh no. Oh phooey! Aaaaaaaugh!"

Still a rookie flier, Sunny lost control and rocketed into the ocean below. Still filming, Zipp's camera followed her, perfectly capturing her enormous underwater explosion of light. Ripples scribbled across the surface of the bay, but the only sound came from a single bubble drifting to the surface and popping. Zipp laughed uncontrollably, and according to the Like counter, nine hundred thousand other ponies had found it funny too. #SonicRainbloop was still the top of trending, two days afterward.

Pipp tossed her phone aside and pounded her bedspread with her hooves.

"Uh huh, just like did Trixie said." ChuffGPT reopened itself, interrupting the footage of Sunny slogging sheepishly to the snow-covered shore. "Don't eat the pinecone if you don't want splinters."

"You're just full of those, aren't you?" Pipp grumbled.

"Guidance counselor," it reminded. "And anyway, so what if Sunny scored some points with her water stunt? The fiery answer we worked on is still saved next to Trixie. Still not eager to show it to the world?"

If Pipp had any say in it, yesterday's Do-It-Yourself Fireworks Extravaganza would have already been erased from history. At present, it only existed in that group selfie posted by the Zephyr Heights fire department. All of them were posed heroically in the palace courtyard, smiling and triumphant. The soot-stained princess they'd rescued was not. Pipp's cover story was that a Canterlogic hairdryer had blown a fuse. And then spewed glitter everywhere. And then somehow set the topiary ablaze despite every plant in the courtyard being covered in ice. The newsponies seemed skeptical, but since Canterlogic was their biggest buyer of ad space, they dropped the story quicker than Pipp had dropped her ramshackle fireworks.

Which brought the timeline up to this morning. Friday. Hearts And Hooves Day.

"So..." ChuffGPT ventured. "We got any ideas left? Other than Trixie's whoopsie daisy during breakfast, I mean."

Pipp wiped her mouth. "That one was actually my fault," she fessed.

Peanut butter crackers. Some old world, lower classs treat Pipp had never heard of. Sounded easy enough to make at home, and even turn into a holiday cooking tutorial. Plus, the ingredients were all available at the commoner market.

ChuffGPT didn't have a cape collar. If it did, it'd have been tugging it uncomfortably. "Yeah. That was a wild way for us to discover you have a peanut allergy."

Pipp buried her still numbed face into her pillow. "I'm getting desperate here, ChuffGPT."

"Mmmm, no. You were desperate when you conjured Trixie up on Wednesday. By now you've gotten.... utterly despondent."

A low, exhausted sigh rumbled from Pipp's face pillow. ChuffGPT heard, and its tone went from softly teasing to just soft.

"Okay, look. Trixie is going to pay you a compliment. She's not good at these, so bear with her. Not good at giving or receiving. Well, I might be better at receiving them if ponies actually gave me any."

The only visible part of Pipp Petals's face were here eyes. They were glowering impatiently.

"Right, right, got off topic. Ready for your compliment? Here it comes. Compliment time."

ChuffGPT played a recording of a deep inhale. Odd, since a chatbot had no reason to do that.

"You remind me a lot of Starlight Glimmer. If you don't have a way forward, you'll find one. If you can't find one, you'll make one. If you can't make one, the vein in your temple bulges out and your teeth grind."

"I'm not feeling very complimented, ChuffGPT."

"If you knew Starlight, you would be. Or at least knew what Starlight meant to me." The app minimized itself, but kept speaking. "I'd stick my neck out for her. In fact, I did back when I still had one. Remember that Changeling Hive adventure Trixie mentioned? Well... she didn't make it to the finish line. When our group got ambushed, Trixie stayed behind so Starlight could escape. The show had to go on, even if I wasn't there for the big finale."

Pipp was sitting fully upright now, face folded into a concerned frown. Her phone had opened its Settings app, then scrolled down to select ChuffGPT.

"Trixie has one last idea to best Sunny. One ace still up her sleeve. Been sitting on it for the past few days though, since Trixie worries it might be dangerous."

Pipp brushed a gray strand of mane from her face, leaned forward on knees that still had burnt patches, and narrowed eyes still red from peanut exposure. "Are you saying the past few days were the safe ideas?"

"Well... safe for me. This one, Trixie doesn't know enough about this future world to predict. You'll be fine no matter what. But Trixie? She either wins big and gets you those one million Likes, or..." the chatbot seemed hesitant to entertain the worse outcome. "Just click the button, okay?"

Unknown App wants: Full Admin Privileges

Pipp didn't budge.

"Tell me what you're planning, ChuffGPT."

"Something.... great. And powerful." Its tone was trying to be mysterious. Instead, it sounded afraid.

"Explain yourself, ChuffGPT."

"It might not work at all, so Trixie doesn't want to make promises, ya know?"

"Explain yourself, ChuffGPT."

"It really would be better if I got your genuine reaction when it happ-"

"Explain. Yourself."

"Okay, fine! Trixie thinks she might be able-"

Pipp's phone pinged with a new notification: Sunny Starscout is Now Streaming: Hearts And Hooves Day Twilight Sparkle Special!!1!

"No...." Pipp's mouth was dry and her hooves were clammy. But not from peanut exposure, like at breakfast.

"H-hey," ChuffGPT appealed. "Don't click that. Pipp, click my permission rune, not Sunny's upload link! No! Remember the pinecone! Splinters from the pinecone!"

Pipp was deaf to her chatbot's pleading. It saw the notification, but not the thumbnail. It hadn't had its will crushed like Pipp's. But as she pressed the Watch Live button, ChuffGPT caught up. And it's blowhard demands died in its metaphorical mouth.

"H-hello out there, everyone. Sunny Starscout here. And I have a guest host with me this very special Hearts And Hooves Day." Sunny's phone was propped up across the room from her. The framing of the shot was terrible, with too much headspace and a window in the background with too much falling snow, chugging the stream's bit rate. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the desktop computer Sunny was seated beside. It had a familiar program up and running.

"Everyone... I'm joined today by a ChuffGPT recreation of Twilight Sparkle! Say hi to... um... all the viewers, Twilight!"

"Yes! I love to be here in Ponyville with all my friends!"

Pipp had been sucked back to her Glowin' Up concert. She felt the stage wires tangled around her again. Immobilizing, choking, hurting her all over with biting threads of constricting metal. And the ponies watching, all the ponies whose eyes Pipp begged to be pointed anywhere but here. Sunny's viewer count was climbing. So was the Like counter. Up, up, up.

"Oops. Heh heh. Sorry folks, there's not a lot of Twilight info available to guide the app. It'll probably say some uninformed stuff. This is Maretime Bay, ChuffGPT. Not Ponyville."

"Oh. Silly me, being such an egghead. Spike, take a letter."

The app had a perfect recreation of Twilight Sparkle's voice. Of course it did. Sunny had that recording of Twilight's warning to the future. A single sample was infinitely more useful than no samples. With no samples, ChuffGPT was stuck mooching off voicemail in order to speak. Like Pipp's had done all week. Like Pipp's was quietly doing now.

"P-Pipp. Please. Turn this off. It's scaring me."

"Dear Princess Celestia... today I'm learning to livestream with my new friend Sunny Starscout."

Sunny was helplessly clicking the refresh button and shouting over her rambling, incomplete AI. "I'll get the interview underway soon, viewers. Don't, uh, don't go any-"

The feed abruptly cut. Either Sunny had crashed her browser or ChuffGPT - the one in Pipp's phone - had wrenched control back from the Trotter app. Pipp's eyes were too bleary to tell. And now they were watery. Enough to start dripping with defeated tears, hot and stinging. Her shoulders shook and her makeup ran. Sunny had beaten her. With ChuffGPT. Planted a banner at the summit using Pipp's own flagpole. It was so bitterly, monstrously unfair.

Pipp's phone was hot in her hoof. Angry.

"You lied to me."

"Wha-?" Pipp rubbed her dripping nose and looked around for a hanky or tissue to wipe her face. There weren't any.

"You lied to me, fat flank! This isn't a remote viewing spell! And I'm not Trixie!"

Pipp blinked her eyes clear, hurt by the chatbot's harsh insult.

"Were you ever gonna tell Tri- I mean tell me that I was fake? A drawstring doll like that Twilight toy just now? Or after this was all done, was the plan to just toss me out like a used-up Mirror Pool copy?"

"No!" Pipp was gripped her phone with both hooves now, tears flowing anew. "I never lied! I... I... I've only ever called you ChuffGPT since you turned on."

"I thought that was some futuristic codename! I thought GPT stood for Great and Powerful Trixie!!" The copy of Pipp's voice was cracking and wailing just as badly as her real one was. "No wonder all my ideas were terrible! I'm not Trixie the legendary historical magician! I'm nopony. I'm nothing!"

"No! You're... you're my friend, Ch- Trixie. You are!" Pipp fumbled her way to device settings.

"I'm nothing! I'm nothing!"

"You're not nothing," Pipp pleaded as she enabled Admin Privileges to the app. "Look, I just gave you full access to everything, just like you asked. Email, internet, weather app, everything! I trust you! I care about you!"

Her phone speaker crackled and died. One moment it was blaring an existential temper tantrum, the next it was silent as the grave.

"...Trixie?"

A buzz and a ping from the notification center.

Error. Appdata [CHUFFGPT] could not be found. Try clearing cache.

Pipp's hooves began to shake. They shook very badly. Her phone dropped from them and clattered to the floor. It lay still, like the empty device it was. Pipp no longer felt the stageshow wires tight around her. No longer felt angry accusing eyes pointed her way. Instead, she felt drifting and untethered. Unseen and alone.

She wrapped her forelegs around herself. They were no wires, but they were all she had to hold herself together. Her room was so quiet. So empty of the snippy but enjoyable bickering that filled up up until just a few minutes ago. In the silence, Pipp sat. She waited for a change. Any change. For Trixie to come back, to forgive her, or even keep yelling. But there was nothing. ChuffGPT was nothing, just like it had said.

Pipp waited for a very long time. So long that the sun moved through the sky, its beams poking through through the royal bedroom window. Pipp squinted dully through them, then realized a change had indeed occured.

Outside was still and calm. The snow had finally stopped.

Author's Note

:trixieshiftright: ...

:trixieshiftleft:

:trixieshiftright: Oh puh-leeze. I'm not gone for good. You see any tragedy tag on this fic? Trixie will return in the next and final chapter. She hopes.