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                   The World of Midnight                   
                        -by IGIBAB-                        
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                    No one left to save                    
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No one left to save
The night was cold. Yet, the filly was here. Sitting on the edge of the highest cliff in all of that place once called Equestria, a low and weak wind blowing in her mane, on her coat, under her skin.
The moon was high in the sky, casting purple and white light down on the landscape below. The plains, the forests, the cities, the mountains, all bathed in that dark glow. The air was fresh, the scene itself looked silent, aside from the barely audible wind.
Sweetie Belle's eyes were drifting, their green iris slowly rotating around her pupils, glowing in the dark. She glanced at the shivering trees, the glittering lakes, the empty cities devoid of lights.
She felt at peace. Not the kind of peace she'd once felt from finally getting her work done. Nor the one she had experienced from seeing her sister finally overcome a disease. It wasn't even a peace close to the one she had felt from accepting the fact that past relationships were just that, past.
No. This peace was different. It simply existed, without any weight attached to it. Like her.
It was time to go. She stood up and walked away, in a slow gait, trying not to put too much strain on her legs. One of them barely had a coat anymore, just a pink patch of skin, while another simply didn't even have any leather left, exposing the robotic work under it. A foot of metal, slowly rusting away, jamming the articulations even more. A slow squeak, at each step she took.
She came back to her home. A place like no other. From the outside, it looked like a normal house, or at least a normal house designed by Rarity. She had made it for her, like a version of Carousel Boutique, but more attuned to Sweetie Belle's metal craft's skills. She made everything: gears, devices, instruments – her favorite. Aligning inert pieces of steel, welding them, bringing them together to produce something more than the sum of their parts. To release music upon this world. As they whistled, she could hear their soul, gaining life.
Over the years, the place had become more than a home and a workshop. It had become her. An extension of her being.
As she entered through a never closed door, the metal all around, in the walls, on the floor, on the appliances became alive. It moved, awakening from a slumber, painfully turning on green and blue diodes, just before some turned red as a sign of lack of maintenance. Yet, Sweetie Belle didn't care, as she stood in the middle of the lobby, listening to the slowly rising music. Chords, percussion, brass, all coming together, as wires made their way to her body, connecting her.
The floor rose, as the roof opened in a succession of panels turning, gears rolling, rusty arms squeaking, while the house brought its owner, its brain, higher up. The machinery loudly folded and unfolded all around Sweetie Belle, while she let herself get carried, softly landing in a warm bed which was getting lifted by mechanical arms until it went higher than the roof of the house itself.
Under the starry sky, she brought the blankets up on her body, while the heating of the bed was turned on.
It was a habit. She couldn't feel it. The heat. She didn't sense it anymore.
An old projector turned on below the bed, casting a hologram right on top of her. A memory, saved long ago, playing as a movie.
It was with Scootaloo. The day she was accepted at the Weather Factory, under Rainbow Dash's mother supervision. Apple Bloom was there too. They were cheering the young pegasus, congratulating her around a glass of cider.
Rainbow came in flying, with her usual attitude, ruffling Scootaloo's hair, teasing her a bit while still congratulating her. Sweetie Belle smiled, seeing her friend blushing from a happy embarrassment.
The memory went on for a couple minutes, Sweetie Belle enjoying this heartwarming moment, reliving it through her own processor, before switching to another one.
This time, it was with Rarity. Just a regular day in Manehattan, a "girls day" as she used to say. Sitting at a table on the streets, Rarity wearing her latest hat, talking with passion and refinement, as she did. She laughed, and Sweetie Belle laughed with her, Talking about a disastrous performance she had witnessed at a fashion show.
Rarity had something in her smile. Something comforting.
The movie flickered once, like a bad VHS. Then twice, before an error message was displayed. "Corrupted data".
Sweetie Belle grunted, turning on her side, while the projector shut off.
She looked at the photos she had brought in front of her. Photos of her family, her mom, dad, sister. Her friends, their friends, Ponyville, Equestria, beyond. Photos of travels, of holidays, of celebrations, of mourning. They all succeeded one another, a mechanical arm bringing a new one as the previous was taken away.
And finally, there was this one. An old photo of herself, proudly standing in front of her most ambitious project. The "Save-ation".
She glanced over the edge. It was still there. Below. Slowly running.
The bed lowered, until she was right in front of it. Even the noises it was making were painful. She looked at the rust – even metal can wither away, huh? – the green diodes, the tanks filled with formalin – and, for a few of them, other things – the wasted efforts, the failure.
She looked at it. And she understood that peace from earlier on.
With a resigned hoof, she flipped a switch. The device asked for confirmation, warning about what would be lost from a prolonged deactivation. She confirmed anyway and watched the diodes slowly turning red, before fading out entirely.
It was over. She laid on her back, looking at the sky. She closed her eyes one last time. Somewhere in the house, another switch was flipped. And silence fell.
Author's Note
Well now I want to make a full story of it... Maybe one day. Still posting this one though, as the end might differ.  
I just love Sweetie Bot and the concept of robot life