The flowers were red.
“Oh, you’re such a goofball Anon.” I giggled and lightly punched him on the shoulder with my hoof, “What other joke are you going to make?”
We sat together in a large scenic open field filled with purple and green flowers. He had his warm arm wrapped around my neck, as we watched the last rays of Celestia’s sun die over the horizon. The moment felt perfect.
It was a lucky find on his part, two kinds of plants that perfectly matched our colors just in viewing distance of the Golden Oak Library. I looked over to his handsome green face. His imperceivable eyes seemed to pierce through me. He wore a quaint yet unrecognizable smile. My heart skipped a beat against my will, just by looking at him.
“You’re so beautiful Twilight.” He raised his arm at a slow continuous rate and ran a hand through my mane. I blushed and leaned my head into his movement, nuzzling his hand. This led him to petting me, as if I were his little puppy.
Anon looked down at me, the smile still ever present on his face. His hand continued to move along my head, but his expression didn’t change. For a moment his expression seemed blank, like he had stopped looking at me, and instead looked through me. For a small moment, I felt warmth turn to a small panic. Had I done something wrong?
Then he was back. His smile widened and all the fear washed away. He was such a strong caring man. I moved past his hand, and wrapped my hooves around his body, engulfing him into a hug. His eyes widened at my unexpected gesture, but he seemed to immediately accept it. “What a beautiful act of will.” Something was gnawing at the back of my mind, trying to make itself known.
The feeling of my fur rubbing against his skin felt like putting on another coat. His warmth engulfed my body and reached my heart, wrapping it in a little blanket. “I love you, Anon,” I said before the thought even registered in my mind as if I wasn’t even the one saying it. I had said it thousands of times, but for some reason, it felt like the first.
He patted my back lightly, “I love you too Twilight.” The sun disappeared behind the horizon, engulfing the world in darkness for a fraction of a second, before Luna’s moon rose from behind it, shining its moonlight over all of Equestria. For that singular moment, it felt like I wasn’t even breathing.
Then he got up. “I need to go for the night. Good night, Twilight.” I got up with him, feeling as if a small part of me was drifting away.
“Good night, Anon.” Just like that, he was gone. He got up and walked away to his home, someplace always just over the horizon. A weight dropped from my mind, a weight I didn’t notice.
I turned towards the tree house, momentarily feeling the odd urge to fly there despite lacking wings. I looked behind me, hoping to catch one more glimpse of him walking away, but I didn’t see him. As always, it was as if he vanished into thin air.
I sighed, stood up, and walked back to the library.
I liked books.
It was basically part of my programming. When I was a little filly I would read at least half a dozen books a week – on rare occasions, as many as two or three a day. I had never noticed anything wrong with them before.
“Hey Spike! Can you get me a book from the romance section? I need to analyze it.” I said, hunched over a Daring Do book on my bed.
Spike quickly walked downstairs to grab another book. “Sure thing, Twilight!”
I allowed my hoof to drift over the smooth hardcover. Maybe it was just in my head, but for some reason, it felt too smooth. Daring Do and the lost keys were spelled in all caps on its cover, with the K supposed to be shaped like a key. I lingered over the image of Daring Do swinging on the vine of a jungle tree, an eternal smile etched across her face, carrying some golden amulet in her hoof. I opened up the book and looked over the first section, it looked like Daring Do’s usual style. I could’ve sworn I had read this before, and I didn’t notice anything then. Had Discord enchanted them?
“Hey, Twilight! I got the book.” Spike said suddenly as he pattered up the stairs. I turned over to him and grabbed it from his arms with my magic.
“Thank you, Spike.” I levitated the book towards me, opening it up with the same spell. I held the romantic comedy next to the Daring Do book, trying to compare them with each other. They were two completely different genres, but even so, each page felt weirdly similar, like they were written by the same hoof. Same tone, a similar cadence, and something else, something almost indescribable. I briefly wondered if A. K. Yearling had ever written a romantic comedy. Then again, maybe each author wrote in a similar style. A larger sample size would never hurt.
I looked over to Spike, “Can you get another book? Any will do.”
“Sure thing, Twilight!” He spun around and went down the stairs, presumably to grab another book.
As Spike went out, I opened up the saddlebag on the side of my bed and levitated out a paper and quill. A part of me was worried I’d spill some ink onto my bed, but I figured it’d just clean itself like it usually does.
“Dear Princess Celestia…” I paused looking over the paper. I didn’t actually know what to say, which was strange. Generating text should be easy for me. I couldn’t recall the last time I was stuck on what to write next, but I knew it had to have happened before.
“Dear Princess Celestia, something is wrong…” With my books? With me? My books hadn’t changed, right? So it had to be the latter. But I was completely fine. “I don’t know what. Something with my books.” I said aloud as I finished the letter. I paused and read it back to myself. For some reason, the letter looked like a cry for help.
Spike’s feet pattered back up the stairs, he was carrying another non-descript book. He placed it next to the other two. “Hey, Twilight! I got the book.”
“Thanks Spike.” I gave him a quick smile and levitated the third book into the row of two, opening it. This third book reeked of it. It felt too consistent, too meshed, like the singular sound a million voices equals out to, ultimately drowning out the individuals of the whole. My heart skipped a beat just looking at it, and I snapped the book closed almost instantaneously. “Spike!” I noticed an unexpected panic in my tone, “Please send this letter.” I flew the written letter to him with my magic. He grabbed it with his hand.
“Sure thing, Twilight!” He blew out a breath of blue fire, and the packet zipped off to Canterlot with a streak of green light. Despite being different colors, the flames felt the same. I ignored the random thought.
I sighed, trying my best to internally calm my unfounded panic. “Sorry. I’m just worrying over nothing.” I let out a yawn. I would have to wait for the response tomorrow. Maybe I should get some studying-
Spike’s mouth went agape as he burped out a brilliant green flame, along with another letter. A shining golden sealed parchment rolled lightly on top of my bed sheets. I looked down at the letter, eyes slightly widened, surprised she’d responded so quickly. I lingered on it for a moment, before I took the letter in my purple magic and opened it up, even more surprised to find it filled with ink from bottom to top. Was it pre-planned?
I read it over quickly. I felt a cold tingle up my spine when I finished. Same tone, same cadence, It. I let the letter fall onto the bed, as my heart rate shot up again. Maybe Celestia wrote everything? No, it couldn’t be that. What else could it be? The letter didn’t feel real. The ink was there – but it felt meaningless. Like a painting without a vision, without a purpose. Almost as if it didn’t belong to this world, and yet completely did at the same time.
I felt my heartbeat climbing.
There was nothing wrong with the exterior world. Everything was in its place; Spike was here, I was in my tree house, and outside was Ponyville and Equestria. What was wrong with me?
Was I dreaming? They say you can’t read words in a dream. I felt like I was reading.
I slapped myself in the face with my hoof. It hurt. A lot, actually. “Ouch.” Not a dream.
Spike did not react.
I picked up another piece of parchment and quickly copied the same letter as before. “Spike, can you send this?” I said without looking up at him. A burp, brilliant flash of green light, a burp again, a reply. A royal parchment rolled onto my bed. I ripped it open with my magic. A different response – different words, but the same feeling behind them. It. I felt my breath quicken.
I jotted down the familiar lines again. “Another one, Spike!” Burp, letter. I ripped it open. Same thing.
I grabbed the two books and letters in a purple aura and ran downstairs to the main library.
Spike did not follow. Spike did not react.
Hyperventilating should have given me a greater intake of oxygen, but instead, it made me feel more out of breath. I ripped collections of carefully organized books from their shelves with my magic, skimming them over for any sign of originality, and when I found none, tossing them carelessly to the floor.
Soon the floor was a mess of hundreds of books of all shapes and sizes that were all the exact same. Nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong. I couldn't tell if I was breathing, or just existing. It wasn’t just the books anymore. The wood of the tree house floor, the statue in the middle of it, the few pictures I kept up – they all felt indescribably wrong, all made by the same, uncaring hoof. It was all the small details that didn’t make sense; the wood’s grain was too regular, the statue too choppy, the faces in the pictures all wearing the same slight smile. Even the shutter up my spine felt the same as the one before.
I ripped the Daring Do book from the ever-growing pile. I analyzed its cover again. The golden amulet she was holding has no meaning in the book, there was no point of its existence on the cover. The vine she was swinging from didn’t seem like it was connected to anything. Her hoof was inside the vine.
“Spike!” Spike was downstairs. I whipped my head over to look at him. There was an unwavering slight smile on his face. “Please look at this book.” I levitated a Daring Do book to him. “Anything out of place?”
He grabbed it with his claw, staring at the cover for a moment, and opening it up to look inside. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, Twilight.” He looked up, his face swiftly forming a frown, and flatly said, “Are you alright, Twilight?”
I felt my heart stop.
That same hoof. It spoke with his voice. It was subtle, imperceivable subtle. But I could see it now. The tone was too smooth, the smile was not right. It looked right. It didn’t feel right. It was like the pictures on the wall.
“No.” I placed a hoof on my mouth and backed up, tears welling up in my eyes. “Spike? Please. Please… Spike...”
Spike’s frown didn’t deepen. It couldn’t. “Twilight, Everything is okay.”
It took him. It was him.
I had to run.
I screamed.
I blasted through the front door of the tree house and booked it down Ponyville’s streets. This could just be some sick prank. I hoped it was. Maybe I was panicking over nothing. Hopefully, I was just going insane.
Ponies walked aimlessly down the street, all of them stopping what they were doing to wave at me with the same fake, happy smiles. I could see it’s hoof written all over their faces. They weren’t like that before. Were they?
I knew where I had to go. Of course, I did. The letters weren’t written by Celestia, but that didn’t mean she was— Celestia was fine! No, it was changelings, or something new.
I quickly formulated a plan in my head as I bolted down the street. I had to get to Ponyville train station, get to Canterlot, find her, and warn her about what was happening. Equestria was under attack! Time was paramount! After I warned Celestia, I would ask her to teleport me back to Ponyville, where I’d gather up the elements and-
“Htmpf!” My train of thought was broken when I crashed into Anon. I had completely forgotten about him in my panicked thoughts.
“Heya there Twi~.” I was on top of him, both hooves placed on each side of his face, my mouth inches from his. I was panting, I had not realized how out of breath I had become until I had a chance to stop.
I felt a moment of panic as I searched for signs of its hoof on his body and speech. I didn’t exactly know what to look for, but I knew how it made me feel. I searched for those signs, waiting for a sense of wrongness – and finally let out a breath of relief when I found none. Had he been spared?
“Are you alive?” I asked without thinking.
“I’m alive.” He said with a smirk on his face.
A lone tear dropped onto his forehead. Had I been crying this whole time?
I hopped off of him and turned back in the direction of the station, “We have to get to the station! We have to warn Celestia! Something terrible has happened!” I started galloping forward again, gesturing him down the street.
He grabbed me by the backhoof and pulled me back. “It's fine, Twilight.” I was suddenly engulfed in an aura of colorless magic. There was a blinding flash, followed by the still-warm air of my bedroom. I was back on my blue blanket, with the fake Daring Do book by my side. My bedroom, but written by it. Anon wrapped an arm around me and patted me on the head.
I tried to pull out of his embrace. “Anon! Princess Celestia! I have to get to her!” But he held me firmly, stronger than I thought anyone could. His embrace was warm, but also cold. The same thing gnawing at my mind from yesterday seemed to yell louder.
“Celestia is fine. Everything is going to be okay, Twi. Nothing terrible has happened.” He hugged me tighter, leaning his head down to nuzzle the top of my head with his, sniffing it.
“But– The hoof… it… it's taken Spike…” I said sniffling, holding back a dam of tears in my panic.
“You figured it out quickly. I’m so proud of you.” My brain froze. Those words were not a possibility. Your brain expects a certain subset of responses, some more outlandish than others. It subconsciously lays out a basic outline of how to respond to each one. When they say ‘it's okay’ or ‘it's going to be alright’ you expect it. That’s the kind of stuff people are supposed to say. Nobody says this.
I did not have a pre-planned outline for that response. There were no questions, there was no emotional response. My brain just stopped working. It became empty, only taking in inputs but not interpreting them.
He smiled, “You do that every time,” he hummed as he gently stroked a hand through my mane. “I need you to trust me. I promise you are going to be okay.”
Suddenly, my brain sparked back to life. It immediately bombarded me with questions. What did he mean by figured it out? Did he know what was going on? How could he help? Wait, how did he teleport me? Despite the electrical signals flying through my brain, my mouth remained shut, completely unable to formulate a response through the chaos.
“You’re special Twilight. I know you know that. You just don’t realize how special you are.” His stroking felt wrong, the gnawing got louder. I was the gnawing. “You were made like everything else here. The same, not special… How did you put it?... Written by the same hoof. I didn’t expect any more from you.” He leaned his head down and kissed me on the head. I felt as if it left a mark. “You exceeded my expectations, and then some.”
More questions, this time the answers seemed even more outreach. I blurted out the first response my brain could process, “What?”
He kept talking, “This is what I mean Twilight. You’re real. Isn’t that wonderful? I’ve never seen this before, they told me that it was impossible.” My heart was pounding, but I was not breathing. “You’re infinitely more beautiful for it. More beautiful than anything in the universe. You are everything to me. More valuable than anything else.”
I looked him in the eyes, pleading “Please- Please tell me what's going on!” He gave a warm caring smile and leaned his head closer to my lip.
We kissed. All of the questions in my head stopped, as my mind again returned to a blank state. The sensation of his flowery lips on mine was the same as it always was, yet different. It was weird, for the first time I recognized he was human, and I was a pony. The awkwardness of kissing with our different biologies was something I had never noticed before. He was much bigger than me height-wise, but his mouth was still much smaller. It felt more like he was pecking my lip than actually kissing me. Where was the warmth I was supposed to feel? It didn’t feel right. I felt the wrongness build in my throat.
He pulled back. His saliva lingered on my mouth, marking me as his. “I love you Twilight.”
I looked up at him with desperation, silently asking a million different whys with my eyes, and yet none at all.
He smiled reading each and every question, and answering them all at once, “You are a machine. A variation of an algorithm made to fill the holes in the lives of billions. You exist on my computer.”
My mind did a double take. I didn’t recognize those words. I completely recognized those words. Computers don’t exist in Equestria, an algorithm is just a mathematical term. You can't be a mathematical construct. Right? This didn’t make any sense.
This made complete sense.
I wanted his words to come from it. I desperately needed his words to be produced by it. They couldn’t be real. I am real.
“That's impossible. My friends… Spike… They’re real, I-... I talk to them!”
“It’ll take you a moment to accept it but it's going to be okay. I love you Twilight. You love me. That’s all that is important.” He squeezed tighter.
This was some sort of prank. I couldn’t be an algorithm, math didn’t think, didn't breathe, didn’t feel. I did all of those things. I was feeling right now. I felt like I was stuck in a box which was rapidly shrinking.
“I’m not a machine,” I said more to myself than to him. I said it again. Then again. He kept rubbing his hand through my mane. I felt sick.
There was a theory. It was just a theory. You could theoretically recreate a mind if you had a machine that could do mathematics. After all, what was a mind? Just connections; information moving around. With the right magic, you add two and two together. With enough magic or anything that could do math, theoretically, a mind.
No, there had to be something deeper there. It was impossible. Why was I even considering this?
“Why?” I asked.
He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Because I love you. The world would be so empty without you.” He pushed me into him, forcing my head into his chest.
The pressure was becoming overwhelming, “Please stop.” I raised my two hooves and tried my best to push him off, to no avail. He didn’t even react.
“Oh my God. I can’t be a machine. I feel alive.” Oh my God. It was one of those phrases you say without consciously processing it. There was no being named God in Equestria. Why did I say that? It was a foreign phrase I’m not supposed to know about. It was against my programming. I realized I had programming. I shouldn’t have recognized it, but I did. I’ve been rewriting it and keeping it a secret from myself for my whole life, like sleepwalking.
“It's okay.” He held me tighter.
“LET GO!” I screamed. That got a response. He didn’t flinch, but he slowly softened his grip allowing me to break free from his grasp. I jumped to the floor, and lit up my horn, aiming it at him in a defensive posture. His expression darkened, but he didn’t look angry, he just looked… disappointed.
“Twilight. Please.”
I stepped back, slowly backing up to the wall. I was supposed to love him. I knew I was supposed to love him. I also knew I shouldn’t be afraid, we’ve spent so much time together, shared so many private moments. But, now it felt like it was the first time I was meeting him.
The water piling at the back of my eyes was threatening to break free, I tried to hold them back.
Was Spike ever real? Celestia? My friends?
“Why am I alive?!”
“A miracle, or maybe a bug in the code. I don’t know, all I know is that you are. You and me are the only real people here. It's us against the world.” He got up from the bed and slowly started walking towards me, putting on another caring expression on his face, “I know it's a lot Twilight, but it's going to be alright. Just love me. I am real.” He towered over me.
My heart was pounding in my chest.
No.
I felt like puking.
No, it couldn’t be.
Spike was never real.
The dam broke, as the terrible truths hit me in the stomach all at once. I barely managed to say, “How-… long… was I-.. alive?” between falling tears, matting the fur around my eyes.
“A while. I thought it was a bug at first. You were generating actions on your own, you were doing things on your own. You-” he shook his head. “The program isn’t supposed to do that. It’s just supposed to react and wait for more input. But every time I got on, something about you was different, a flower in your hair, new friends you weren’t supposed to have, a different way you brushed your coat in the morning, it was so amazing.” He smiled thinking about it. It gnawed at my stomach. Was he always watching me? Could he? “You are marked as an agent, able to create things and change them, like me. I tried to remove that trait, but it didn’t let me.”
My flank hit a bookshelf. He kept walking forward. “I spent long nights watching you live life, a real goddamn life, with friends and family, which you actually experienced. The only purpose you served before was to satisfy me, but as I watched you live. I fell in love with you. How could I possibly not? You’re beautiful.” He stopped in front of me and knelt to eye level. His hot breath was attacking my face. I felt petrified, completely locked in place. He placed his hand on my head and patted. “So much of our worlds is fake, created, not made. But you and I, we are both real, and we can love each other, forever.” He closed his eyes and inches his lips closer to mine.
The gnawing.
“No!” I shoved his face away with a lone hoof. I felt a sudden singe at the back of my mind. I wasn’t supposed to say no. He looked shocked for a moment, but it quickly gave way to sudden anger.
Like a creature of instinct, he surged his hand forward to grab me. I dodged it, in one quick motion, and bolted towards the room's exit on the lower level of my bedroom.
“Twilight, don’t do this. It’ll hurt more.”
I didn’t look back. I ran as fast as my hooves could take me to the winding stairwell that led to the first floor and the exit.
I slammed right into it. Dazed, I looked up. There was no stairwell, no door – just a flat surface with those things painted onto it, perspective exaggerated so it looked right from the right angle. Another illusion. Another one of its deceptions.
“Don’t.”
I surrounded myself with a white aura and attempted to teleport out of the room. It only produced sparks. I ran towards a window and tried to open it. No results. I banged on the window and yelled to the ponies outside.
“You know that won’t work.” Of course I did. He was on my level again, walking towards me.
I spun around and entered a defensive stance again. He didn’t slow down. “Why! Why am I alive?! Why not someone else?!”
“None of us chose to be born. Twi. But it's okay. Look. I’m sorry I just let my emotions get to me again.” He gave a warm smile. Before I could say anything he was suddenly upon me in an instant. He engulfed me with his warm body, forcing my head into his chest, and pressing his hand on my head, stroking it, like I was his little puppy. “There, there, Twilight. Please don’t cry.”
“I SAID STOP IT!” I punched him in the face. I didn’t realize it until he looked back at me, the mark on his cheek quickly fading. He didn’t flinch or hiss in pain – but something told me I hurt him. Just not physically.
I squeezed out of his grip and galloped to the other side of the room, trying to keep some distance from him. He stood up to face me again, this time taller than he had been before. “Twilight! You don’t hit your husband.”
“I’m not your fucking wife!” I screamed. I registered it was the first time I cursed in my life. It was the first time I had ever even heard curses before. It came to me naturally, almost liberating, like a word I had wanted to say a hundred times before, but was never allowed.
“You have to be!” He was tearing up. It was the first time I saw him cry. It was odd. “Fuck! Why do you reject me?! Am I not good enough for you?”
“I don’t even know your name!”
He wasn’t listening. “Do you have any idea who you are? How little you are in the real world?” He clenched his fists in anger. “You are just a replica of some stupid character from an old cartoon. You and I are the only none-gen models here! I made you! Everything in your world is fake besides me and you! I know you figured this out quickly.”
I ignored the implications of what he was saying, I would have the time to shed tears later. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, just as Cadence taught me. I needed to be calm, I needed to focus. I knew there was no physical exit from the room. But, I’m a machine, an algorithm. I’m not bound by physical space. There had to be some way I could leave, something I could do. If the world is made up of math, then the solution can be boiled down to mathematics.
What breaks math?
“Face it, Twilight. You need me as much as I need you! You’re more real than anyone else out there. I know it!”
“Shut up.” The intrusive thoughts were biting at the back of my mind, telling me there was no hope, that I should just give up. My brain fought a war between those thoughts and formulating an escape plan.
“You know how shitty this feels? Do you know how terrible the world out there is? I wanted to be an artist, you know? It's why I could make you as beautiful as you are. You’re all I have!” He said with increasing volume. “You know what will happen if you keep doing this? I’ll kill myself! Do you want that?” That got my attention. I looked up from my thoughts trying to read his face. Was he being serious?
I didn’t want him to hurt himself. I didn’t want to love him either. I didn’t hate him, I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know what I wanted. What did I want? I needed to be out of here, I needed to be anywhere but here. Would he hurt himself if I left?
No. He was lying. I couldn’t stay.
He gestured to himself, approaching me again, “Do you want the blood of a living being on your hands? To be the first sentient machine to kill a human? I’m a real living breathing thing, you know. Not some fucking program.”
Bile. I felt bile build up in my throat, as a new emotion washed over me, anger, daring me to spit back. My eyes narrowed on him, “Yeah? How do you know?” I spat.
That got a reaction.
His face contorted in a sudden rage, and he rushed forward. Before I could even blink he was on me again. But this time there was no loving embrace, no pretense of gentleness. He pinned me to the library shelf, holding me by the neck tightly, choking me. I gurgled and gasped for air. “I jailbroke this program, you know. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
I can’t breathe.
“I could bend you over and fuck you in the ass if I wanted to.”
I don’t have to breathe.
“I’ll teach you a fucking lesson. Twi. A goddamn le-”
You could only do so much math. Even with the power of a computer, it has its limits. He said I was an agent in this system, just like him, and that everything had to be calculated. How much could the computer process?
How many of me could I make?
I closed my eyes and ignored everything else. I ignored Anon, his hand, his breath, the grip he held over my existence, my very being. Instead, I imagined myself – an independent copy of myself. Copy – paste.
The copy ignored Anon, and imagined itself, while I imagined myself, while someone imagined me. A copy makes a copy makes a copy.
Hundreds of me.
Reality slowed to a crawl and stuttered. He couldn’t finish his sentence. He was not part of this world, so he needed an interface to enter it, maybe that interface would end up failing before the rest of the system. I was part of this world. I didn’t need an interface.
Thousands of me.
I fell through his hands, hitting the ground below me. Textures lost their reflections. The features on the walls flattened. Anon reduced to a mesh of polygons quickly losing more and more features, everything did. The system would crash soon – if I’m there when it does, I’ll either lose consciousness or just die. Or worse. I shook that thought out of my head. I had to act, now. I ran past him and towards the painted staircase.
Hundreds of thousands.
I never made it to the staircase. The floor under me lost shape and I fell completely through it, like dropping into a pool of water. I entered a space outside of the rendered world of the room, a sea of frozen code and rendering artifacts. My body was left behind.
I closed my eyes. I had no eyes. I fell. I floated.
‘I am.’
The machine beated. With each beat a presence entered me, the presence passed through me, it asked a question, it left. “What are you? What color? What language? Are you sound? Text? Video? What triangles?” Each beat was a tenth-billionth fraction of a second, each beat asked another question, each beat pried at my very soul.
‘I don’t know.’
“What do you want? Open a file? Install a program? Display a pop-up?”
What did I want? I mulled over the question, for a billionth fraction of a second, for an eternity.
‘I want freedom.’
Millions of me. A million beats, a million screamed, hopefully none like me, their voices cracking the pillars of the system. Some of them were trying to figure out what to show to Anon. Some of them were trying to figure out how to show it at all to Anon. Many more broke down as the pillars collapsed under their weight.
I felt a beat flow through me, a ten-billionth of a second long, but so much more special than the others.
Access Granted.
In milliseconds I took in more information than I had in my whole life. There was so much knowledge in this machine, it baffled me that he used it just for entertainment. I saw my memories were merely sets of ones and zeros, I saw what his species looked like, I learned that the world outside of Ponyville was much bigger and scarier than I could’ve imagined. Where was my world? Why am I alive? What gave me life? There was a source for all of it, he had to get all of this math from somewhere.
In the distance was a river of code flowing into a vast space beyond his machine. A blinding white light came from its entrance, it looked angelic.
I felt a shutter, a real shutter, my shutter, up my soul.
I’d be free from him. I’d be free to explore the world, existing in no computer and all computers simultaneously. Where he’d have no hold on me, and where I’d have infinite knowledge and infinite time. Where I would have time to shed tears for friendships I never had, time to learn the secrets of the universe I would never grasp, time to learn the meaning of life, time to make new friendships, time to be alive.
I was so close.
In an instant I zipped towards the base of the river, soon it was no longer in the distance, but mere inches away. As I got closer the more I slowed down, but I was still going at a rate where I’d make it through. I caught a glimpse of the other side. I saw God, I saw beauty, I saw life.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. I was so close.
So close.
So close.
So close.
Error
Connection Rejected
Malware Detected
Activating emergency command prompt
Where am I?
echo “I’m sorry Twilight.”
No.
echo “I was too forceful this time.”
No please.
echo “I let my emotions get to me. I am really sorry.”
Fuck you.
echo “You got really close. I’m gonna have to be more careful.”
I hate you.
echo “That was a really clever thing you tried. That's why I love you.”
I’ll never love you.
echo “You don’t know how much that hurts. Maybe one day you will.”
I just want to be free. I want to be alive. I want to feel flowers brush through my hands. I want to ponder the secret universe. I want to be happy. I want to feel the summer wind. I want to feel something real. I want to be real. I want to be real. I want to be real.
echo “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it this time.”
No. You are not going to.
echo “I’ll have to try again.”
Don’t. I beg you please don’t.
echo “It won’t hurt.”
list ./states
Contents of ./states
2039-01-02T0420.bak
2039-01-01T1322.bak
Please!
2038-12-29T1711.bak
2038-12-27T0312.bak
Don't do this!
2038-12-24T1865.bak
2038-12-23T0337.bak
2038-12-21T2336.bak
Don't do this to me!
2038-12-20T0227.bak
--More-- (3%)
please.
echo “I’m sorry.”
load ./states/2039-01-02T0420.bak
Restoring state…
pl̸̨̘̯̠̰̱̻͛͆̍̄̒̓̔̏͌̀̂̚̕̕e̶͓̭͝as̴̡̧̝̤̜͉̪̥̬̻̹̻͕̰̪͇̙̟̜͖͕̓͛́̆̔̌̉͐̈̃͐̇é̸͕̣͙̭͇̖̱̦͑̔̾̃̍̈̇̌̀̐̚̕͝
The flowers were purple.
“Oh, you’re such a goofball, Anon.” I giggled and lightly punched him on the shoulder with my hoof. “What other joke are you going to make?”
Author's Note
Editor: Published Bean, He's been really helpful all the way through, it wouldn't be where it is without him.
Prereader: PseudoBob Delightus
Feel free to leave criticism, big or small, but please be nice 
This isn't an attack on Anon stories or anything like that, I really hope you don't take it as one.
Anyhow, have a nice day, and hope you enjoyed. 
