COMA

"Princess, I suggest you visit less often. This room is losing colour faster every day, and I'm willing to bet you'll do the same."

"I'm fine. I will be here when she wakes up, whether you like it or not."

"...Are you feeling alright, princess? You se-"

"I said, I'm fine."

The immense wind whistled through the door, breaking the air pressure that'd shut her ears. The noise of the wind was almost deafening, now that she was used to the cave's barotrauma. The thick jacket helped mitigate a bit of the stinging pain from the searingly cold storm. Though barely, she could now keep her balance in the raging mists. It wasn't a fast stride, but she was moving forward nonetheless. For the first time in quite a while, she could see actual sunlight, as she found herself atop frail scaffolding trailing the side of a massive sinkhole. It was deep to the point where you couldn't see the bottom. She couldn't tell how wide it was either - Despite it being brighter outside, there wasn't this much blowing snow in the cave. Despite that, Twilight pushed on, holding her sledge in front of her to block a little bit of the oncoming wind. Though, despite her best efforts, it was still extremely painful. It was difficult to even look straight ahead without squinting.

That's when Twilight had an idea. The horn on the mechanical head on her sledge had flickered with electricity when she took it from the body. The eyes glowed even afterwards. Maybe, just maybe, it could be powered up again with magic. As quickly as she could, Twilight moved over behind a rock outcropping, she slumped over on the ground with the sledge in her hooves. It was extremely heavy to carry with only your hooves, but it'd have to do. Twilight tightened her grip around the handle as her and the mechanical horns both lit up, one in purple and the other in sparks. She focused, setting aside the biting chill for but a moment to achieve perfect concentration as the robot head's eyes lit up like blue spotlights. Well, the right one did, the left was flickering and jittering, but it'd have to do.

Twilight stood back up, with her makeshift flashlight-sledge-thing raised high in the air, basking the ground behind the white fog in blue light. It worked surprisingly well. She used it to scour across the area, looking for a potential goal or safe spot, when she noticed it - A small house. The paint was peeling off and it wasn't in perfect condition, but it looked mostly airtight. She lowered the staff to her height again, but kept if pointed towards the house to keep track of it.

It didn't take long until she was at the front door. It was locked. She could probably have beaten it to shreds with the sledge, but it wouldn't exactly be a very good shelter then. That's when she remembered the key she'd found in the jacket's pocket, and lo and behold, it worked. It must've belonged to someone who worked here. Without giving it much thought, she hurried inside, slamming the door behind her. Immediately, she was hit by the familiar scent of dust and stale air, but surprisingly enough it wasn't freezing in here. She'd simply wait for the storm to pass before heading outside again.

The interior was scarcely decorated. It didn't seem like someone lived here. It might've served as some sort of a large break room for the staff. There were a few framed pictures of ponies in high-vision vests, miner's outfits, and... A pilot's jacket. Twilight took the picture down and inspected it more closely. It was the very same jacket she was currently wearing, albeit with a nametag. The name had been scratched out. The mare on the picture had both an orange coat and mane, along with what seemed to be a glass eye looking slightly in the wrong direction. She was offering the camera a slight smile, but her tiredness displayed as bags under her eyes.

The thought of prior life becomes so much more daunting when you see it laid out before you - These ponies had lives, stories, and emotions. When things are told as history you don't think much of it, but that faint smile on the picture almost made Twilight tear up. She hung the picture back on the wall, and just as she was about to turn around and walk away, she noticed something - One of the pictures did not fit in with the others. She took down the picture to inspect it more closely. It was the only picture without colour, and it was also the only one that wasn't either of scenery or a pony. It was taken sideways, displaying what seemed to be a room. But, not any room. There was a vase with fresh flowers on the table and an IV stand on the floor. It was a hospital room.

"...This room is losing colour faster every day..." Twilight mumbled to herself, repeating what she'd heard the doctor say.

Could this be... Her room? She doubted there would be a black and white picture of a hospital room inside a break room. Besides, cameras old enough to take colourless photos didn't photograph in this quality. It was crystal clear, like you were seeing it with your own two eyes, unlike the rest of the photos, which were ever so slightly blurry and murky. Looking at the photo instilled some kind of unease within Twilight, so she put it away just like the last and moved on. The rest of the first floor was mostly empty and uninteresting. A generic carpet, a table with some chairs, and some simple kitchen appliances. the only thing left to check out was the upper floor.

Up the stairs was something that confused Twilight - It looked like a child's bedroom. A small bed, curtains with patterns of ducks on them, and walls painted in blue. Toys were strewn out on the floor, but due to a child's nature, it was hard to tell if they'd been left in a hurry like the rest of the things here or were just left by an untidy kid. Among the puzzle cubes, stuffed animals, and various other playthings, there was a small wooden doll of what looked to be a guard with a spear. Or, well, spear was giving it a little too much credit. It was a key. It looked like it's owner had taped it to the side to serve as one.

As she reached for the toy, she accidentally stepped on something and almost tripped. She turned back around, and picked up the small thing. A small, plastic animal. It's eyes were as soulless as she felt, trapped in here. In a way, she could relate to the thing. A lack of control. Helpless, forced to entrust someone else with their safety. It couldn't move or talk, couldn't protest. And neither could she. Her real self was still lying like a blank slate on a bed. Like a plastic animal. She pocketed the toy before reaching for the toy with the key. As she picked it up, the key practically fell off by itself. The glue had aged and weakened. She put it back where she'd found it, but took the key.

Looking out the window, the storm was still raging. Due to a lack of better things to do, she left her weapon at the door and hung up her jacket on a coat hanger, before getting to work on organizing the room upstairs. She hated when things were untidy, and its not like she had anything better to do. She moved the curtains back on their hooks, made the bed properly, and stashed the toys in drawers and boxes. After it was all said and done, the room was looking a lot better with many less tripping hazards strewn about. However, the storm hadn't passed. Twilight walked back down the stairs, as it struck her that she hadn't ate nor slept since she'd arrived her. Not metaphysically, at least. Her physical body was very much asleep. Nevertheless, she opened the old fridge despite not feeling hungry, and too her surprise, there was no rotten food inside. There was one pierogi, packaged in a packet that clearly said "VACUUM CONTAINED." Even though she didn't feel the need to eat, she figured holding on to some kind of normality would keep her decently sane.

To no one's surprise, the power wasn't on. The microwave didn't work. But maybe, just maybe, it could. It just needed a power supply, and that she could provide - Her sledge's horn had sparked to life when she lit it's eyes earlier. She turned the microwave around slightly, and pulled out the plug, instead holding the horn to the microwave's socket. All that was left was to power it. Without the freezing cold, it was a lot easier to do such. The eyes and horn sparked to life once more, causing the light inside the microwave to light up and the disc inside to spin, heating the pierogi.

It only took about a minute from start to finish. There didn't seem to be any plates or utensils, so the packet would have to suffice. She took the food and pulled out a chair, reflecting upon her recent experiences as she ate.