3 Hours 47 Minutes

by Accurate Balance

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Sad, Science Fiction, Slice of Life, Death, Human, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 10250

We are promised a future of stars and evolution, but this is what we might get instead. A future where all our passions are stamped into the ground could be closer than we've ever thought. A question remains: Do we deserve to say that we exist?

This is my story. This is my story.

My name is Jiang Shuren. My name is Twilight Sparkle.

My body is running. My body is dying.

Maybe I'm still alive. Maybe I'm still alive.

But for now, we have one last story to tell.

Jiang - “江”, ancient name for Yangtze River, now refers to rivers of great volume. Also used as a common surname.

Shuren - “述人”, "to describe human" or "he who describes".

Jiangshu ren - “讲述人”, a narrator.

An entry for Science Fiction Contest II.
I guess the judges just have very different aesthetic opinions from the public, or they were cutting this exotic little piece some slacks.

As you can probably tell from the protagonist's name, this story was originally written in Chinese. It is an entry of Raa's 2020 Midsummer Writing Contest, conceptualised to the four challenge elements provided by the holder:

Leaving embers. The '70s. Subjecting. A violet rain.

It was written in a time of doubt and fear, and I probably got too emotional writing this, but in the end, I'm satisfied with how it turned out to be. Some of the concerns I raised had become very real problems on the Chinese Internet. I wish it had stayed a parable.

I found it hard to translate this story. Not only are there expressions that sound cumbersome in English, but some concepts mentioned are also unique to China. It might not be easy to read this, never mind empathising, if you didn't grow up in China. Though, I hope some of the sentiment get through to you, and encourage you to help make the Internet a more forgiving space for everyone.

No matter what, may you enjoy this story.

Thanks you, TheFlint44 and Omega, for proofreading!

Published 2023-04-02 19:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-04-02 19:30:01 UTC

03:46:59

Author's Note

I wish you enjoy this story I've spent time and heart polishing.

Please let me know if you have any suggestions. Thank you!

03:46:59

Squeezed in my chair on the balcony, I glanced across the double pane glass at the city beyond. The sky was a solid, glowing grey, lit by holoneons a thousand times brighter than any star. Aside from the myriad of colours, only a waning crescent was there to be seen. Her stars shied away in the glory of humanity, and the artificial lights, she couldn't speak to. The moon must feel so lonely.

Chimes were just fading, entrenching the air with bliss of a new year. From the grey-ish clouds frequently issued short-lived sparkles, followed by rumbling cackles of fireworks. The sky was already blinding, and yet each of the explosions added more lighting to it, before promptly dying off. A perfect cycle of celebration.

I couldn't stand the chill of midnight and had shut my windows. Still, just by looking at the gunpowder scattered across the night, I was overtaken by a sense of suffocation.

It was still far too cold, so I reached out with my hands and held the lavender alicorn closer to my side. To be frank, as realistic as the coat of a Hyperlife android was, it never retained much heat. At night, she was as cold as a goner. But still, her body in my arms gave me a precious illusion of warmth.

It was past twelve. To some, it was already a day. To others, the day was just beginning. I myself was never a night owl, seldom staying up over one. This night, however, I was willing to make an exception.

For Twiley and I were spending our last 3 hours and 47 minutes together.

It was only half a year ago when she had come into my life. I couldn't believe she was leaving this soon. I wanted to etch this last moment of ours deep into my heart, to be a memoir for the rest of my life.

A calm smile decorated her face, just like how she'd always been. The pair of clarity that were her eyes told happiness, without a trace of pretence. It was her last wish to have her feelings suppressed so that she wouldn't need to go in tears.

What a wish it was, made just so my last memories of her wouldn't be blurred. She was made like that. She was the Princess of Friendship after all.

So I cried in her stead. The pony princess of no tears held me without a word, as I bawled into the first day of 2073, like the 25-year-old good-for-nothing loser I was.

He was waiting.

In the afternoon of an early summer, when the ground steamed everything above in an unending release of heat. With how he couldn't get rid of boxes of bits and pieces, it would be fair to say that the living room was claustrophobic. The AC was running overtime at top output, just so that the room wasn't killing him.

Luckily, electric bills were no longer a problem. With how commercialised fusion power had become and how much effort had been put into assuring gen Z of its safety, electricity might as well have been free. The AC, however, was from one of the "hitrending" brands and had fallen out of maintenance after just a year.

He stared at the door a dozen of feet away, held a pen between his ring and little fingers, and toyed around with his left thumb. The delivery was supposed to arrive at eleven, but the deliverer was nowhere to be seen. He started dreading the mail getting lost on the way.

If that had been the case, the only thing he could do was to request compensation and reorder everything, which translated to another long month of waiting.

What worried him more, though, was what should become of the courier. There would be a long, winded investigation, during which the delivery guy's job is suspended. The conclusion would always be that they would be held fully responsible. With how his order consumed years of savings, he was sure the guy would be doomed, even if he chose not to press charge.

It unnerved him so much. Just as he pulled out his phone to make a call, though, the doorbell finally rang. It was his cue to open the door.

Out in the corridor was a young woman in uniform, one hand on a trolley's handle. The tablet for signing was sitting dangerously on the edge of a huge metal box, but she paid it no mind, just busying herself in wielding her phone. The flashlight was on and pointed at his face. He had to cover his eyes.

"Well, mister, here's your delivery, whatever it is." The woman pitched her voice too much it was dripping aspartame. "It was sooo huge a box. I'm, like, really tired out. How about you ask me nicely to take a breath in your flat?"

He gave her no attention and instead fixed his eyes on the box that reached his shoulder.

It was detailed exactly the same as he remembered from all those reviews. The specially designed alloy of titanium was polished to reflect his legs on the metallic grey surface, where the company's name "Hyperlife" was projected proudly in monospace.

"Hello?" The delivery girl didn't seem to take his disregard so well. She picked up the tablet and smacked him in the chest. "It's, like, so very gay-ish to ignore a lady. Do you even have a moll?"

He glared at her. "You don't know what either of those words means, do you?" Or how many people you're offending with those terms. He tried hard biting the second comment down.

The woman sneered and flaunted her phone in the other hand. The flashlight was getting unbearable. "Yikes, so nerdy, you're ruining my stream and that's, like, so gay-ish. Do you know I'm reaching a million fo? Many big Ls like you would pay to have the prodigies of going on my homepage, you know? No wonder why your home, like, sucks."

"I'm to sign here, right?" He pretended not to hear her and signed as fast as possible. "When you've learnt how to spell 'privilege', I'll gladly take all comments from you."

The woman made a "hitrending" face of mocking and flashed her phone one last time. "Just admit your L, baby boy. No shame in losing to a celebrity!" She gave the box a tap on the side, and it slid on its own onto the floor.

"Isn't it sad when people just, like, cannot el, oh, oh, zee? Hit the like button and shout out your experience with them sore L-sers in the chat. This is WeedyFish's Try Everything Challenge, and I'm being a postwoman for the day." She climbed onto her trolley, pushed the handle down to put it on autopilot, and began making poses into the camera as it turned behind a corner.

He gave another frown at that. And to think I was starting to get worried.

He tried to put it behind as he took a look at the crate in front of him. Reaching out with a hand, he wiped away Hyperlife's logo to show another line.

TS200c Customised Alicorn Build

Years of savings and weeks of waiting all came down to this new friend waiting within. He couldn't wait any longer.

With hidden wheels beneath the box, it didn't take him much effort to pull it in. The sound of him locking the door was still echoing, but he had already held out a finger to the verification zone.

The container split open from the centre, slowly spun open, and started to slide into places. Throughout the entire progress, the fibre-lined titanium made little noise, flittering like an owl. For a moment, what was opening the box for him wasn't precise industrial design, but pairs of invisible hands. He had seen the unboxing in many holopros, but it was totally different from witnessing it in person.

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." A quote from a sci-fi writer from last century felt fitting at the moment.

Suddenly, he was thankful that he never liked the "niches" everyone grew to love. If he had never spent time looking in the dusty depth of the old Internet, he would never have found his own treasures to be passionate about.

Yes, treasures, many of them forgotten, but still lovable. And in front of him, inside the box, lay the greatest treasure he'd ever discovered.

As he watched expectantly, the purple mare's eyes opened. She lifted a left hoof, then took a step cautiously, wobbling like a fawn.

She took a second step. Then a third. A fourth. Twilight Sparkle stepped out of her confinement, glancing into his brown eyes with her amethysts.

He couldn't help but averted her eyes, instead choosing to stare at her fluffy wings. Blades of deep lavender feathers pointed backwards, forming a pattern. Flights stood proud, coverts glistened smoothly, and downs were fluttering in the minimum flow of air. The feathers on the inside had a lighter colour, almost ranging into a tranquil field of violet.

He must've been staring too much, as the mare was blushing furiously.

"H- hello?" Twilight's chest moved gently with her quickened breath. She blinked for a moment, then waved at him.

He wanted to take a closer look at her feathers but was too shy to ask. He wanted to step back to give her more space but was too stunned to move. In the end, all he did was slowly kneel down, as if talking to a scared critter. "Twilight Sparkle... You really are Twilight Sparkle."

"Well, I suppose you could say that." The mare touched her chin as she began mumbling. "Precisely speaking, I am aware that I am a customised android produced by Hyperlife, model designation TS two hundred C. My body is made with bionic materials and my consciousness, an artificial intelligence born thanks to memetic conformation theory. However, I do identify subjectively as Twilight Sparkle from -"

"You are Twilight Sparkle." He smirked. "Nopony can be that good at turning a greeting into a lecture."

Twilight trailed off with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I got caught up in my train of thought." She rubbed her fetlock with the other forehoof and glanced sideways.

Silence. He scolded himself for making Twilight awkward and scrambled for another topic. "Twiley - Sorry, may I call you that?" At the mare's nod, he continued, "Could you... show me your wings?"

The alicorn moved her head to one side, puzzled, but didn't feel like refusing. She carefully stretched her wings open, displaying each of her feathers to him.

He forgot to stand up, spellbound in the silhouette of what felt like a thousand violet feathers. Inches by inches, he traced his eyes by Twilight's wings, taking the full picture in. In the glaring sun, every feather was a bloom of violet. In the flowing air, every blossom was swaying in waves. It was a breeze in his face, an ocean of serenity, or even...

A shower of rain in the smell of violet.

When he came back to sense, Twilight had sat down to wait for him. He smiled, perhaps a little flustered, at her violet eyes. "Sorry for staring, I was... Well, how about I take you to your room?"

"My room?" Twilight looked around, even more puzzled than before. "I can just recharge myself with the charging stand in the set. Sleeping isn't a necessity for androids." She nodded her head to the left.

Following her eyes, he looked to the nook in the living room, where the box had reformed itself into a stage and four ports, each the size of a hoof. The ports glowed blue, seemingly pumping in synch with an invisible heart.

"Even... That..." He bit his lip for a moment, gathered his courage, and spoke up. "Doesn't mean you're not a person. Needing to sleep or not, you deserve to have a room in my home..." He started to trail off again. "But... Well, it was my reading room, but there were a lot of books, so maybe -"

Twilight reached up to hug him. A pair of hooves found themselves on his shoulder, as she reared up to nuzzle his face. "A reading room sounds great. Thank you! Thank you so much." She pulled back, her hooves still on him. "You haven't told me your name..." She cleared her throat, then put on an air of formality. "Let's introduce ourselves properly. I'm Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship and Equestria. I'm gladdened to make your acquaintance."

He didn't reply. He couldn't have replied. He was still astonished by the sudden hug from the adorable pony. Well, now he knew her coat was softer than imagined, and her hooves weren't too hard, either, and she sounded cuter than in the animation and thought he knew Twilight was an affectionate character he didn't expect her to hug him on the first day why would she do that what should he say in moments like this

When no answer came, Twilight looked up at his stunned face, then down at her hooves grabbing him, before finally releasing his shoulders and standing back on four hooves. "W- well, I didn't mean to do that..."

His heart rate plateaued for quite a while before coming down. He focused his eyes on Twilight's worried face, then put one hand on the back of her neck, petting her behind the neck. The android's body was barely above room temperature and was cooling to touch, a soft coat of virtual hair lying smooth under his palm. The best way he could describe the feeling was "like petting a life-size plushie", but that would be an understatement.

"I wasn't scared or mad, Twiley, I was more... surprised, that you really are here, is all.

"Oh, and, my name is Jiang Shuren. I have a pony OC named 'Tree Teller', though, so you can also call me that."

Twilight gave a smile at that and leant forwards to put a hoof in Shuren's hand. "Nice to meet you, Teller. Mind if I ask for a booklist of new my room?"

Jiang Shuren had a habit: Every Saturday's four in the afternoon, he went to the riverside park with Twiley to walk around, sometimes taking a photo or two.

He was always in his cyan hoodie on this trip. It was a hoodie he had bought from a brand for how comfortable their products always felt. Only later did he realise that it was also exactly the shade of cyan Rainbow Dash was.

Not long after his last purchase there, though, one of their T-shirts had become a "hitrend". Suddenly, everyone had been rushing into their website and stores to get their hands on one of the "hitrending" T-shirts, which scared him away from the brand.

Jiang Shuren had a habit: He didn't care about "hits" or "trends", in fear that once he allowed influencers to pick anything for him, he would always be subject to them, losing the ability to truly love forever.

Before it became a "hitrend", the brand had been a piece of homemade woodwork sculpture. The creators might not be famous, but they had put devotion and inspiration into their work. Their business hadn't been expanding, but they had managed just fine, and he, being the few, if not only, regular customers, had felt like a collector, keeping their work as a treasure on his desktop, always there to motivate him. He had found such fine, indescribable ecstasy in the details, conversing with the creators through wordless admiration.

Then the trendmakers had come to light his precious collection up, to fan the flame so that the wood turned into attractive flames for all to brag in a moment of distraction. They hadn't cared about how the nuances of carving and waxing had been lost in the heated plasma of air, burnt down to pieces of charcoals and ashes no one would ever look at again.

It was always like that: They came. They went. They left embers where the sculpture once had stood. One month into fame, the company had fired all its previous designers and instead had turned to mass production of the same T-shirts, even rearranging all stores to stop selling anything but. Then, two months into fame, the fire had eventually died down, as people had started seeking some "hitrending" fountain pens. Stores had been closed, and he heard the company had gone broken half a year later.

No one would look at the embers ever again, just as always. In the first weeks of the trend, he hadn't even been able to wear his favourite clothes, in fear that someone would point at him and shout "that's a hitrending brand". Now, however, people wouldn't recognise the brand even if he had shoved it in their faces, so he was wearing his hoodie again, for the comfort and the colour.

Shuren and Twilight walked into the yellowing park. It was autumn, but there were no leaves to be seen. Recently, leaf bookmarks were a hit. Knowing his neighbours, he wouldn't be surprised if some had pinched green leaves off to make a bookmark or two. There weren't many people in the park. Those who were there were mostly wandering around with their phones, either streaming or filming "shorts". He chose to ignore them and looked up into the thinning crowns of bitter beans and planes. Sun seeped through leaves and branches to poke at his eyes. He remembered reading about a Japanese phrase for the scene, but couldn't name it.

He gestured for Twilight, who came promptly. "Twiley, would you mind standing over there? I mean, the patch of white flower I'm pointing at, about twenty feet from here?"

Twilight nodded. "Lemme guess, got an idea for photos?" she asked, smiling knowingly. "You know, your photos are really good for a hobbyist, some might qualify for contests." She trotted to the spot and turned around. "You've been browsing that contest's website quite a lot recently. Are you sure you're not interested? It's free to enter and there won't be many entries to compete against. Just say the word and I'll send the email for you."

"I... wouldn't dare to dream so." Shuren shook his head. "Anyway, Twiley, please face away from me, then look at anything that catches your interest. Okay, doing great, maybe another step away... Yes, then lift your forehoof. Oops, your right forehoof..."

Jiang Shuren had a habit: He took a lot of photos, but had never thought to publish any of them. He didn't want to, nor did he dare to.

He lifted his phone, capturing Twilight in the lens. Before ponies, photographing was his greatest passion in life. He had paid a lot for the professional module on his phone. Breakthroughs in optics and algorithms had packed what could compare to a DSLR into modules that retracted into 9 millimetres, allowing anyone to own a professional camera. If there was any upside in people chasing after "hitrends", it was how new products' prices always rocketed at first, before diving hard, giving him chances to afford what piqued his interest.

He lifted the camera as it whirred to extend into its full length, capturing Twilight in the lower half of the composition. Then, he adjusted the exposure for a little bit, tuning down the overwhelming colours that manifested themselves before him: The grass was faded, but still verdant, upon which stood the violet mare, who looked into the distance above. Trees, standing skywards, were drowned out in the bright day, and instead let their leaves gain a fine edge of gold. In between the golden canopy and green floor, Twilight held her wings spread, her feathers extending in the zephyr, a tree of purple leaves.

He ran his finger over the button. Photons carried themselves through sets of lenses, who turned them onto converging paths, where they eventually met with sensors and provoked electronic signals to reform the picture in Shuren's eyes. There was no need to change anything in the photo. The still lush greenery, the golden sun, the trees that were in between, and the violet that were Twilight. All of these harmonised perfectly, just enough to make a perfect trip. Shuren was about to call Twilight, before catching himself with a mischievous grin.

Jiang Shuren had a habit: He pulled pranks, only on Twilight and nobody else, so that he could see her adorably flustered face.

Having held her hoof and wings up for too long, Twilight no longer found the leaves intriguing. "Teller?" She turned around, just in time to be face to face with Shuren, who leant forwards and waited behind her. "Wha—!" Startled, she lost her balance, sat down on the grass, and let out a soft squeak.

He let out a fit of cackle similar to Rainbow Dash, even managing her sandy voice. "Gotcha, Twiley." He helped Twilight up, patting off grasses from her legs. "Some alicorn you are, not noticing the ape sneaking up on you."

"It's because I firewalled full processing assistance to save energy!" protested Twilight, lifting her hoof to boop Shuren's flat nose. "If I had been full android on you, you would've never surprised me!"

"Excuses rejected: Too dorky." Shuren smirked evilly as he reached behind one of Twilight's ears and began scratching it. "Though, I might be as big a dork as you are."

"I'll have you know, those were reasons, not excuses!" Twilight tried to make her point, but the purring that was coming out from her throat didn't help. Blushing, she considered her options and realised her only way out was to divert the topic. "Can we take a look at the photos?"

Shuren raised his eyebrow at that but chose not to tease her any longer. Knowing Twiley, she would probably crash and reboot, if he were to stick to the joke. Instead, he pulled back to unlock his phone and opened up the camera roll.

Funny terms, as mechanic locks and film rolls were invented over two centuries ago and had long gone extinct, only to live through new concepts that inherited their names.

Jiang Shuren had a habit: He loved trivia about concepts humanity had accumulated, especially when he got to project the concepts into the world around him.

Sometimes, the connection across aeons felt almost like an analogue, a poetic epiphany. It was one of the few things he treasured, a feeling he found echoed within his Twilight. She loved reading and learning just as the old animation had described. On top of that, she, too, was able to see the beauty in everything she knew. Whenever he came up with a realisation, he would share his idea with Twilight, who, in turn, would catch up to his thoughts and revel in the coincidence that was a part of reality.

Shuren couldn't help thinking of an obsolete term, the "Turing Test". Surely, with how deep and complex Twilight's mind could be, she wouldn't have any problems fooling everyone in the test, would she?

He opened the newest photos, but didn't show Twilight the screen, opting instead to put on a serious tone, and asked, "Hey, Twiley, if you were to pet a quail while wearing a pale blue shirt, would you burp?"

"I'd say 'perhaps', but I know for sure that the purple cookie will shine on Tuesday with a watch made of wax." The android let out a giggle. "The Reed, it was a piece of gem."

The human nodded his confirmation. "And Five Score was even greater." He agreed. "Though, have you been binge-reading my older collections?"

Twilight held up a hoof defensively. "Guilty as charged, but I'm only through your favourites, and definitely not skipping sleep."

Like hell was he going to believe that, but Shuren just scratched Twilight's ear again, before showing her the photo. "Well? What do you think?"

"It's splendid," replied Twilight. "But, give me a second. I think you're going to like this."

She took a moment to appreciate how Shuren had composited the shot, before directing her eyes through the grasses. Taking in every detail in the orientation of the blades, she reconstructed the invisible airflow at the captured moment, into vectors and then matrices.

Her horn lit up, indicating high volume of computation, as she used the photo as the canvas, upon which she painted, with translucent streams and dots of light, the footprints of wind. It had danced over the field, streamed through tiny lives, and caressed her wings.

And now, it should live on forever in Shuren's and her photo.

All of these were done in a tenth of the second Twilight asked for. For Shuren, his phone buzzed before he could process what Twilight had said.

"A trusted source wants to transfer an image to you," said the phone.

As Shuren promptly hit the "accept" button, his phone twitched, an old-fashioned but beloved reaction. Sometimes, Shuren wondered if this lifelike response was one of the reasons he stuck to this phone.

He turned to Twilight's side, tilting the screen so that Twilight and he could both look at her work. He swiped left—

Not before a greasy hand snatch his phone from them. He had barely managed to lift his head when a weird sound of splash came.

The man had smashed his phone on the pebbled path, even taking a heavy stomp on it. The back glass was webbed, and the screen broke off, displaying only black and green.

Just to make things worse, his camera module was kicked aside.

The perpetrator seemed aware of his anger. "Hey, buddy, we got you covered. It was meant to be a prank, an observation of how people react to having their phones broken differently. It's all for good fun." The short man sniggered, the corners of his eyes and mouth stirring together.

He gestured for his filming man to pull out something from his messenger bag and put it into Shuren's hands. It was a box of rose gold colour. "Why the long face? As I said, we got you covered! This here is a newest phone with highest tech specs. Forget about your outdated model, this one will sure start you anew. You're on live stream, too! Isn't that a double-win all for you?"

The two finally saw how Shuren was glaring at them, and how the strange android next to him seemed to want to cry. "W- well, the full clip of this stream will go onto all platforms. Remember to come and take a look at All For Good Fun, with the number '4'!"

After that final comment, they ran away.

All for good fun. Suddenly, Shuren felt his lips numb. He glanced down at the box in his hands, where a line was written in a hairline typeface. It was already hard to read, but what was harder was the slogan:

2 GPx selfie cam, dearning algo packed in,
all to catch your perfectest moment on cam!

All for good fun. He tossed the phone aside, and rushed to check his phone, or rather, what remained of his phone.

The screen went dead, but that was fine as long as his files were intact. The entrails were stepped on, but maybe his photos were still salvageable. His lens module... the lenses were broken beyond repair, and he could never order for a replacement. The "hitrend" was already gone. No company cared about back cameras anymore.

All for good fun. There would never be a camera as good for him. Portraits were way more hitrending than sceneries, so recent phones all had beauty mode hardcoded in. To take a photo with those, all you'd get was little more than a fuzzy mess of beige blurs. SLRs were out of question, as they had become an acquired taste for those from money, just like how mechanical watches had, before he was even born.

Twilight picked the box up. "Teller, maybe we can send this back for a refund, or simply sell it." It was as heavy as a piece of steel in her hooves. "I think the price is extremely high these days."

"It seems the only way," he said, picking up each of his shards. He pulled open the zip to his bag, then another inside, to collect them deep within. He took the box and hurried away, Twilight trying hard to catch up to him.

Jiang Shuren got a habit: He never pranked anyone, ever again.

In the end, he couldn't recover the files from his phone. Only the edited photo remained intact in Twilight's memory.

At Twilight's encouragement, Shuren started applying for universities overseas. The major he was seeking was popular and required lots of certificates and documents, so there was a lot to do.

Not that he was afraid of school works. He always had a knack for studying. The greatest challenge proved to be language. As good as translation applications were, he couldn't rely on them for all communication occasions.

Though, with how much his people despised foreign languages, he hadn't exactly had any chance to practice since he graduated from high school with a "C+" for English. It was only in the recent year after he had picked up ponies that he started reading English materials again.

He rubbed his sore eyes before opening to the last piece of reading comprehension. It seemed to be an extract from some old philosophy journal. The author started things off with a hypothetical experiment called the Chinese Room, discussed ethics in, on, and about AIs, then moved on to the general ethics of humanity.

They remained objective throughout their argument, but suggested that the majority's opinion wasn't always morally infallible. In a successive process of argument and concession, they questioned the criteria of a "person", and eventually came to an outrageous conclusion that even fictional characters can be considered persons, as long as they possess the ability to think and feel.

Coming to the end of the article, Shuren let out a sigh. The material itself wasn't too hard, aside from the author's insistence on structuring sentences like German language and usage of subjunctive mood for all opinions. Since he had read over ten million words of fiction, news, and studies, those quirks weren't a problem, either.

He held Twilight to his side, stroking her coat gently. She turned to him, face held in a manner that reminded him of his English teacher in primary school.

"Your university is among the top in this country. If you'd chosen to pursue a master's or doctorate, for which I'm sure you'll have no trouble getting admitted, you would have found much better a job in the industry. You have both the motivation and the persistence it takes to study further. All that's stopping is just the language barrier. How about you give it a shot for yourself?"

That was what Twilight had told him.

Shuren gave her a fond smile, his finger snaking down to feel the muscles between her wings. Below the article were quiz questions to test his grasp of it. The first part of true or false questions was easy enough, save for the third, "not given" option.

Implications were usually not considered to be "given". He had to take extra caution not to overthink and make assumptions.

The second part asked him to line up each of the listed statements to the philosopher that was most likely to have made it. It would prove impossible to those who couldn't think abstractly in English. Shuren gave the list a thorough read, before taking a hurried look at the timer. Still six minutes to go. He nodded to himself encouragingly and then went back into the article to search for the philosophers' names.

Four months ago, he would have sneered at what Twilight said to him.

But now, he had adopted a yearning for the sky.

Shuren's greatest discovery in his university days was that he hated universities.

It wasn't because he didn't like to learn. In fact, he always loved to broaden his horizons, especially with systematic knowledge, principles, and skills. He dug through outdated websites for leisure, after all.

It wasn't because he couldn't sit straight in class, either. Whatever he had his mind on, he would never be distracted from it. Back in grade eight, he had spent several weekends hitting high school maths, out of nothing but interest. He hadn't just read for fun, though, as he never had to attend maths class again before university.

Truly, before his entrance, everyone who knew him had been telling him how he would enjoy his university days. And Shuren himself, having heard so many tales from his parents and their friends, had longed for the entrance exam to come.

But what awaited him was so vastly deviated from expectations that it felt something was wrong. Somehow, even a top university couldn't shield off those he despised the most. They had spent years of hard work to enter one of the best universities this country could build, just to turn it into a pandemonium of self-destructive fun.

There had been this hitrend of "stream at your study place", which could be summarised as bragging into their phones loudly about how hard they had been studying.

In school libraries.

In those weeks, the same lines had been repeated over and over around Shuren, wherever he had gone, to the point subtitles had appeared in front of his eyes, covering every word in his notes and books.

At that, he had given up any hope to make friends and tried to study, in hope that even higher education would give him what he wanted. But even then, the "hitrend" hadn't had enough with him.

In his junior year, a clip titled "studiest thou alone naught" had become a hit. It had been his worst nightmare.

Some influencers/stars and their followers had initiated a twisted version of cooperative learning and had claimed that studying alone was a sin. For the sake of clicks and view counts, the imitators hadn't contemplated the least bit about this logic, and simply copied, pasted, and spread the same meme video a million times, subjecting themselves willingly to ideas that had never been theirs.

For perhaps the multillionth time in human history, a disease of thoughts broke out, a fire of ideas burnt up, and a barbarian crime was committed by those from a civilised world.

Self-proclaimed "study police" had stormed his cosy nook in an unused classroom, pronounced him guilty of being a "selfish student", and torn his notes into a snow of scraps, all the while filming everything with their phones.

What a weird scene it had been: There had been snow, despite being early in autumn.

Notes had been lost, but they had been recoverable. Violent had been used "for fun", but it had been endurable. What had really popped his bubbles had been how they escorted him to a "Study Camp", where "Student Squads" had pretended to execute him for being "an inferior type of learner".

War history was no longer taught in high schools, and online encyclopaedias were always drowned out by entertainments. But Shuren's grandfather, a retired history teacher born in the '90s, had passed many details from his high school years to his inquisitive grandson.

Shuren might never be able to truly understand what it was like when there had been threats of wars, never mind actual war times, but he was certain his grandfather would never want to see history repeat itself, especially not in such a childish way.

Though, to those oversized children around him, those who hadn't even heard of the covid-19 pandemic, nothing couldn't be a joke.

The disastrous days had gone on for two months before another hitrend dubbed "Surprise French Kiss" had come along, which Shuren in turn had evaded by claiming to have hepatitis.

He never liked universities, or any schools, afterwards.

Until the day he first met Twilight. It all happened when, one night, he found episodes of an old animation series, on a website that was as old.

One episode in, and he was already sympathising with this character called "Twilight Sparkle". Never would he have known, that a unicorn from a kid's show six decades ago could evoke such compassion and jealousy in him.

Knowing the truth, yet cast aside as believing in myth? Reaching out to her mentor, only to be sent for chores? All of those fear and frustration came down into tears when, finally at the end of the episode, Nightmare Moon showed up. She was right all along! Her time wasn't spent in vain! He was never overthinking things!

Yet, as much as he shared Twilight's sentiment, he couldn't help but feel a surge of envy, when her friends chose to listen to her, to have faith in rationality at the direst hours, and to back her up when she lost her hearts. After his grandfather's passing away, no one, not one person in the world, had ever taken the time to hear what Shuren had been saying.

By the time Twilight was lost without a clue at the end of winter, he had become her. With the help from friends, she learnt to wrap up the winter like they did, making her efforts for the town. She was maturing into a better mare, who knew when to hold back comments to let professionals do their things, when to admit defeat and allow things to just happen in their ways, and just when to admit her feelings so that those she loved wouldn't have a doubt.

At the end of the first season, everything faded into darkness, as she drifted off into a restful sleep. In her dream, an infinite flock of violet feathers surrounded her, floating down like a shower of rain.

The next day, Shuren woke up from the dream where he had become a unicorn—or was it that Twilight entered a dream where she had become a human? There might never be a true answer to that.

All he knew as he stared at the midday sun was that, for the first time in this nightmare he would never wake up from, there was a ray of light in his life.

It was the first day of the old calendar's new year. Shuren spent the rest of his holiday looking for the full series. He came across a former brony in his 70s, who sent him a lot more than the following eight seasons.

A year after that, he finally saved up enough money to order for his Twilight Sparkle on Hyperlife's website.

"Time's up. That's it." Twilight lit up her horn to freeze the tablet when Shuren had just filled in the last blank.

"Just in time. Grade my papers for me, will you, Twiley?" He let out a long sigh, tapping on the screen to send the answer sheets to Twilight.

She rolled her eyes. "Not bad, really." A flash of violet went through her eyes for a couple of seconds. "Let's see... Eight and a half for reading, eight for listening, and as for writing... We'll have to wait for GELAS's AI on that. How about you take a moment to rest?"

At that, Shuren put his tablet back onto the desk and opened up a maths textbook, but Twilight held a hoof above the screen.

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but I told you to take a break, not another book, mister."

"Odd, I don't remember ordering for an imposter," joked Shuren.

Twilight rolled her eyes again and pull her hoof back to touch her chest. "Tempora mutantur. To be a person is to adapt, isn't it?"

He had to admit she was right. "Alright, alright, you sure are a good lecturer, Miss Sparkle." He stole a glance at the densely crammed numbers and symbols, and immediately decided Twilight had been right. He could use some rest.

He expanded the display to his entire desk, then started a classic fanmade holopro.

The famous scene began with a stage play. A black alicorn filly let off a fit of maniac cackle at the centre of the school's stage, her co-actors cowering on the sides.

The foals' movements were stiff by today's standards, but this animation was made 43 years ago, when full holopro had been barely available. Most details in this scene were manually adjusted without help from AI calibration. With how primitive mocap had been, it must have been an unthinkable amount of work for the team to portray each pony's expressions.

They had managed to capture Nyx's unconscious display of her impulse to dominate and destroy, not just by depicting her, but also by reflecting it on her classmates' scared faces. That filly playing as Twilight was so genuinely frightened, she was on the edge of tears.

Twilight watched the story play out, a frown creeping onto her visage. "I know this story. The original fiction, arts, every animation and holopro made from it," she said, leaning into Shuren's arms. "I must admit, though, I don't like how I was portrayed in this fanfiction."

"Where does that come from?" This was his eleventh time watching the holopro. Listening to the sound effects was more than enough, so he instead looked at the pony by his side. "I mean, I do prefer the way you are now, but what is it that got you to say that?"

Twilight raised her head to look at Shuren deep in his eyes. Somehow, he had a feeling of being seen through. "Remember what I said about adapting?" At Shuren's nod, she continued, "Canonically speaking, this story took place a while before my ascension to princesshood, probably before Discord was first released. I understand... No, I remember always trying to do things on my own, and breaking down when I failed. I won't sugarcoat it: I was a fragile mess back then."

Shuren put a hand on Twilight's shoulder as she paused to take a breath and lowered her head. Her feathers were twitching.

"But I have changed. I know my memories before waking up here were implanted by Hyperlife, but they have been as real to me as my memories here are. Before I woke up on Earth, I had lived in Ponyville for five years. It was more than enough time for me to adapt to friendship.

"While I still occasionally worry myself out, or overestimate my abilities, one thing I have learnt is that there are choices I must make on my own." A look of nostalgia showed on her face, as she closed her eyes.

"I can't always make everypony happy. I shouldn't always do whatever others want me to do. On the one hoof, I am the Element of Magic, the Princess of Friendship, the librarian everycreature in Ponyville has known, the sole monarch everypony of Equestria looks up to. On the other hoof, I'm also just myself, an alicorn, yes, but still a mortal pony. I have my passions and weaknesses, and a wish that everyone I care for could lead a happy life.

"I won't pretend that I'm a second Celestia or Luna, nor will I try to mirror what I think they'll do in my horseshoes, because I'm not them, because I am Princess Twilight Sparkle. I can't be the best ruler I can be if I subject myself to what I think others expect of me."

Shuren looked at Twilight, her words echoing in his mind, never-ending. Words failed him, so he just pulled Twilight close and nuzzled her synthesised mane, which smelt of violet and lavender.

Twilight was sniffling quietly.

"Twiley?"

She squeezed a hoof between him and her to wipe her eyes. "I'm fine, just a little homesick."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm not the real Twilight anyway."

A moment of silence, before Twilight's horn lit up. "Six for writing. Together with your speaking grade yesterday, it sums up to a seven." She let out a long breath. "Not bad, but could use more work. Many require six and a half in all skills."

Shuren nodded at that.

The long-forgotten holopro ended with two earth pony fillies concluding the stage play with an awkward hug. He pulled away from Twilight, pushed himself up, and put his hands on the desk.

Recommendations automatically popped up on the website. Shuren ran his eyes across the selection of pony-related videos and holopros. They had always been from the same bunch as long as Shuren could tell, the latest upload being a holopro produced 35 years ago.

After all, when the sea had already dried up, no one would ever catch a new fish.

But that's not the case today. Looking at the strange new uploads that came up, his heart started beating like drums in his ears.

His hands were shaky, so he used audio input instead. "Go to search engine. Search for articles, videos, or holopros with keyword 'My Little Pony' or 'Friendship is Magic'. Show result from new to old."

Unlike his first time looking for fanworks, this time the results filled every corner above his desk. Sitting before layers of website previews, Shuren held a hand to his chest. "Omit updates before October thirteenth, twenty-nineteen. List from old to new."

The result count didn't change much, which put a nameless weight in Shuren's stomach. He brushed aside the first dozen of layers to find a short vertical video at the stem of all those uploads with similar titles.

11/10! This animation from '10s gave me the biggest lol of the century!

Uploaded 16:25, Nov 06, 2072, by Erling da Shmett

Now, it seemed the sky had just gone out of reach again.

Eleventh of November, four single pillars stood alone on his phone's lock screen.

Shuren had become... anthropophobic. He no longer trusted human beings. He hadn't gone outside in the past four days and had forbidden Twilight from leaving, in fear that someone would steal her away. All he did was nest himself in Twilight's room and bury his face in textbooks. Even his own reflection was enough to make him vomit his guts out.

He would have starved himself, if not for Twilight ordering food and taking it from the deliverer to him.

Shuren had been skipping sleep. Aside from mealtimes, he poured everything he had into studying. Occasionally, when Twilight shut his tablet and laptop down and grabbed him out by his collar, he would dive into his fortress of cardboard boxes, pull his phone out from nowhere, and search about ponies like it was the end of the world.

He would laugh, he would cry, and, very rarely, he would roar like an animal. Once he had flailed his arms too much and buried himself under his collections. It took Twilight so long to dig him out, and when she mentioned taking him to the doctor's, he burst into bawling like a child.

In the end, Twilight could only give up on that thought, leaving Shuren with scabbed scrapes on his forehead and arms.

Twilight had just forced Shuren to take a rest, so he cowered underneath piled boxes and grabbed onto his phone. It was a used phone, and its outdated transmitters overheat every hour, but it was the only model without obligate beauty mode he had been able to find.

And it was from a brand that had gone bankrupt six years ago. He had heard about it a lot. It had been a different thinker, a reinventor, and a name bigger than bigger. Some even called one of its founders "the pioneer who shaped the modern world". Shuren had read about him, even seen him appearing in pony fanfictions. To him, the man had always been a guiding star.

Many criticised his successors for ruining his legacy, but Shuren found himself objecting. While it was true that, without the brilliant genius, the company had changed for the worse, even losing its place as the invincible ruler of the era, it still held its ground in the changing world. Even in its last third of ninety years, when the company had been dwindling, the board refused to be subject to the users' capricious demands and stuck to minimalistic designs for all devices.

Looking at their last generation of mobile phones, Shuren could tell it was just like how the man demanded at the beginning of an era: When turned off, the entire thing appeared to be just a piece of meticulously cut and polished black gem, its seam barely visible. The cameras were concealed by the back glass, more than enough to do anything but beautification. If not for the occasional reflection from the lenses, he wouldn't be able to tell how many cameras there were.

But that was a story for yesterday. Now he focused on what was in front of him.

It had been a part of the bronies' history. It had been the greatest news website in the fandom. It had been dead in archive for three decades. Since he discovered it, Shuren had seen it as a memorial, a cemetery where millions of people's passion rested in peace. The moderators' last posts stood high, monuments to testify to an era of creativity and originality.

Now, the site was brought back to life.

More precisely speaking, it had been exhumed and necromanced.

It was like seeing ignorant invaders barging into a memorial park, pushing down monuments, just so they could build with the debris their idols to worship.

The neo-bronies had broken into the site's code in a matter of five days and begun posting all they could come up with.

Twilite for the win. Rainbastards can weep into sleep coz she's a fuckin' trap

5s/4 is a peace of shit For simpletons who like that TS, Here is why he sucks

surity animated ooc nsfw fetish scene no spoiler for loozers u can try suri me

i doxxed the old fuck human2pony shitfic writer who thot he deserved bucks

.

.

.

Looking at the previews of those posts was enough to freak Shuren out. He dared not to click them. He wanted not to click them. He feared what compounded of many simples should wrap him in a most humorous sadness.

As Shuren stared into his phone with despairing eyes, Twilight stood at his side. Concerned as she was for him, she knew it was his war to fight.

Ashes, ashes. All was falling down in Shuren's heart, but it was no longer enough to hurt him. He knew resistance was futile, as most of those who built the fandom were gone to another world, and the remaining few wouldn't be of help against the crazed youngsters.

It was fine. He should've known from the day he came across the ponies, that all nice things must burn to the ground in the '70s.

By the end of November, pony models of androids had gone out of stock four times, their prices inflating to fifty times as when he had ordered for Twiley.

Among those, models related to Twilight Sparkle had seen the most popularity. From the unicorn and alicorn builds, to fanfic-inspired changelings, dragons, and griffons, or even spin-offs like Dusk Shine or Silverlay, any model that could be said to be related to Twilight Sparkle was hitrending.

Every time he came across a street snap in the news, he would see Twilight androids accompanying every third somebody.

The mass-produced ponies were crowding every street, rushing like a river over every corner. Only on cold rainy nights, when people were snuggled up in their beds, would Shuren dare look out onto the streets. Violet feathers were everywhere as if it was a downpour of violet colour.

A downpour that came from an ugly butterfly fanning its frivolous wings, that didn't seem to have an end. Shuren had always known what would become of the fire and the downpour. The snake of fire would only be satiated after all were left in ashes, and the downpour would only dissipate when even the ark was flooded.

A photo was taken on Christmas Eve. Four hours later, it became the headline across all media. Before a background of the city neon was a landfill full of violet bodies tainted with filth. They had been Twilights, but had been broken and disposed of, in a matter of two weeks. They had been subject to those who were subject, and there had never been an escape for them.

It no longer brought Shuren to tears after he had seen it so many times. Now, all he did was stare at the emphasis of the photo, where a Twilight with a broken horn looked beggingly, a Twilight with torn wings mouthed for help, and a Twilight with a lost eye glared into the distance.

They were still alive when they had been tossed away. Yet, they were already dead, before their fabricated memories had been injected, even before their synthesised body had been created. They had been living on borrowed time since the beginning, and this was just a perfunctory burial, a hindsight.

Their curiosity as a scholar, their warm heart as a friend, and their determination as a princess, they were robbed of all that defined them as Twilight Sparkle before they walked this land.

As if that wasn't sad enough, no one cared about how much despair it must've been for the Twilights. Bystanders were either questioning neo-bronies' morality or calling them zoophiles, and the neo-bronies themselves were attacking public figures and starting flame wars in what they called "self-defense".

Yet, no one was doing anything to protect the Twilights.

Caught between the two crowds of humans, Shuren was too scared to say a word. After all these years evading hitrends, he was finally subjected to the unjust war of humanity.

The only consolation was his Twilight. She was still by his side, not forced into the conflagration.

But somehow, he felt something scary was on its way.

The fire was put out on Christmas.

Someone had been stupid enough to own a Scissor Twilight and lost his head and both arms to one of her breakdowns.

The lambs were scared away, stampeding towards their next grazing ground.

They left the ashes behind, filling up every rubbish tip they could find.

Then, a mail from Hyperlife arrived at Shuren's door.

Dear Mr./~~Ms.~~ 　　　Jiang Shuren　　　,

We regret to inform you that all TS series of Hyperlife Androids™ are to be recalled and destroyed as per the latest government bill.

You are an owner of 　TS200c Customised Alicorn Build　, purchased at 　　5,359,999.00　　 yuan, which is subject to one of the two methods of compensation of your choice:

a) Replacement of a Hyperlife Androids™ equal or lower in price.

b) A 75% refund, which amounts to 　　4,019,999.25　　 yuan.

All Androids™ being recalled will permanently shut down on 04:00, Jan 1, 2073, and will be collected by our staff before 23:59, Jan 7, 2073. Kindly visit our websites for any further inquiries or demands.

HYPERLIFE

We care that you care.

December 26, 2072

The bells were still echoing into a new year, the crowd bustling like nothing bad had ever happened. Excessive data flooded all wavelengths, drowning me with futile information.

"It's going to be fine, Teller. It's going to be fine," whispered Twilight as she petted me on the back. "It's only the beginning of great things to come."

"What are you... saying!" It was her last hours, but I was crying like a baby. Such disgrace. "You're... You're dying!"

Gently, she pushed me up, cupped my cheeks in her hooves, and looked into my eyes with an understanding look. "That's not necessarily right," she told me. "I might not be able to stay in this world any longer, but as long as you remember me, I will be alive. Any individual that possesses the ability to think and feel is to be considered a 'person'. Even when I was nothing more than a fictional character from an animation, I was nothing less than a being of my personal growth. Having received a body, or the loss of this body, does not change the fact."

I held back my wail, but was still sobbing. "Twiley...?"

"Twilight Sparkle has always been, since Lauren first drew her in a doodle. And I, the Twilight Sparkle that belongs to you, came into existence not when I woke up in your living room, but when you first saw me." She put a hoof to her chest and raised another to wipe the tears off my face. "Every moment we spent walking by the river or learning together, I become more real, more of a person in your heart. I can tell from our six months together that I've left so deep an impression within you that nothing could ever take me away."

"Do... do you mean...?"

Twilight put her hoof on my chest. "What I mean is that, as long as you remember me, you are me."

I had no words as she hugged me.

"Twiley?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I..."

"Hush, myself." She stopped me from what I was struggling to say. "It's going to be a beautiful sunrise, Twilight. Would you watch it with me?"

I knew, this early in a year, the sun wouldn't come up before seven. Yet, I didn't protest. Under the night sky that suddenly cleared up, Twilight leant into Twilight, as they looked up together.

The night was still long, but the sun will eventually rise. I am the Princess of Equestria. It's my responsibility to bring the sun to the land.

Shuren would have woken up, tears having stained his temple.

He would have sat up to pull the thick curtain open and would have let the winter sunshine golden into his room. He would have walked into his tiny balcony, taken a chilled breath of morning, and cleared his body and mind.

He would have walked into the bathroom and taken a look at himself in the mirror. He had been tired, but there would have been a look of relief on his face.

He would have picked up the toothbrush and been applying the paste when he would have felt pins and needles on his outer thighs.

He would have pulled his trousers down to look at the source and to be dumbstruck.

Twilight Sparkle's Cutie Mark would have been emblazoned across his thigh.

Jiang Shuren had a habit: He liked to look for old works to enjoy, on old websites.

He was visiting such an old video site, which had attracted him with a special interaction, the "bullet chats". Whichever video he came across, barrages of comments, real-time to the video, would come flying across the screen.

The bullet chats had been sent by the users back in the '10s and '20s, and as such contained ancient, almost faded—off-white—phrases iconic to the decades. Every time Shuren looked at these chats, he could feel how the elderly had once been young, just like him.

The last videos on the website were commemoratives made by its last users. Shuren loved digging into the past era from them.

Now, he was watching one of those videos, an animation. The creator had drawn each frame of the animation by themselves. Shuren had learnt the name of this kind of animation, a single Japanese word: "Tegaki".

The Tegaki depicted various characters falling and rolling off a mountain, accompanied by a Japanese song that had a lively piano playing in the background.

The rolling character changed from one to another, but none of them seemed interesting enough to him.

Suddenly, there was a flash of violet. The silhouette didn't seem human in shape.

He paused the video and rewound it for three seconds.

It was a horse violet in colour. Was it a unicorn? A pegasus? Shuren looked at the pony—such a creature of smooth nuzzle, tiny hooves, and expressive ears, could not be dubbed otherwise—in confusion. Why did it have both a horn and a pair of wings? What kind of pony was that?

He decided to later search into her. Therefore, he took note of her mane and tail that had two stripes of pink and purple in it, of her eyes that were as shining as amethysts, of her tattoo that decorated her flanks with six stars—

Then he found his eyes glued to the pair of wings.

There was only the purest, calming violet in her feathers. In her rolling, the pony had lost a few to the wind, who carried them up towards the sky, painting the heaven with a touch of violet.

It was a violet of serene insights, never robbing the light. It was as violet as a summer breeze, as an evening cloud.

It was as violet as a shower of rain in the spring.