We walked through the streets of Canterlot once again. And by “we” I mean Delight and myself. After a couple of city blocks it became apparent that Flower had almost no strength left in her. The filly stumbled every other step and even fell a few times, tripping on the uneven pavement. Grumbling, she finally agreed to climb on my back and almost instantly fell asleep.

Underneath the rusty and bent plates on my chest, in a little compartment, the ID from Segfault was now keeping the company of the token Brass Litany so generously given to me. Actually, I had almost forgotten about that little gift and was surprised that I had managed not to lose it during my recent misadventures. I didn’t mention it when I was telling my story to Flower, so it surprised both of my friends. Flower didn’t have much to say about it, for she knew almost nothing about the Church of the Machine Goddess. Delight, however, advised me to use it only when all other options had been exhausted, including “each and every other fucking crazy cult in those forsaken Deep Tunnels.” So now, I had a metal card encrusted with crystal panels and my equinoid ID in my possession. I now only needed to get a new body – a piece of cake!

Surprisingly, neither Flower nor Delight objected to my idea of going straight to the Archives. They didn’t even ask my reasoning behind that decision. However, Del demanded that we all take a detour and swing by a normal eatery because she was starving. Flower readily joined that call.

As stated by Delight, the city wasn’t homogenous in its quality of life. As we were slowly nearing the border with the central areas – the Inner City – the scenery began to gradually change.

The sky wasn’t obscured by countless advertisement signs and entwinements of wires anymore – gloomy skyscrapers loomed above us instead, hiding the firmament from view. The streets looked cleaner, less littered, almost decent. They didn’t smell that bad anymore. Rust – the ever present plight of the metal city – was ceding to chrome, albeit not completely. Delicate combinations of plastic and glass began to appear, replacing sturdy structures of steel and concrete.

The crowd filling the streets changed too. No more did the ponies try to outshine each other with their bizarre looks. And that was all, just ponies. Zebras, griffins, equinoids… they were becoming a very rare sight. Though they still looked somewhat wild in terms of fashion, the mass of ponies looked more or less uniform. Garish outfits gave way to suits, most of them resembling something that I would call business attire. A bit different from what I remembered, but such clothes were still discernible.

It was becoming closer to what I expected a city in the future to look like. However, it was still very far from perfection. And I knew if I were to turn back and go to the tall wall encasing Canterlot, beyond it I would witness the price paid by ponies to make the inner districts shine and glimmer.

Delight slowed down a bit and we came alongside of each other. She used her wing to adjust the cloth tatters hiding my mechanical body from sight.

“Are you sure this is a good decision?” Del warily glanced at me. “Is it worth the risk?”

I took some time to answer. The deeper we went into the city, the more I was realizing how starkly I was standing out. And we were avoiding large streets and using back alleys.

I had no concrete plan for myself and the little company I had already managed to gather around me. At the moment, getting to Stalliongrad was the final goal, the only reasonable option available. But it was concerningly vague. Before settling on it, I needed to know if there was any other choice. And for that, I needed to know more. Even if it was indeed the only way, I wasn’t going to leave the city without Spike. Again, I needed to know what happened to him in the first place.

“Yes.” Realizing that it came a bit too curt and harsh, I added, “It will be worth it, I’m sure of it. Don’t worry.”

Delight said nothing and gave me a long look. In the end she nodded. I couldn’t tell if she was nodding to me or herself.

Del and I resumed trotting through the narrow back streets of Canterlot in silence. I could feel Flower fidgeting and squirming slightly on my back. It was obvious that the filly wasn’t really comfortable taking a nap on my metal ridged back. Why she chose me instead of a cradle between Delight’s soft feathery wings was a mystery.

We suddenly took a few sharp turns and ended up in a dead end. The place was a little island of the outer districts’ dirtiness and decadence hidden inside the labyrinth of dark towers not so far from Canterlot’s gleaming heart.

Only three entrances led to the blind alley. Well, four, if one counted the slightly ajar trapdoor in the middle of it. It had a brick lodged between the pavement and the hatch itself to keep it open, though nopony could be seen around. On the right side, a warm light was coming from the windows of a small eating joint. It clashed with the cold blue glow cast by the neon signs of a repair shop right next to it. The third doorway, the one on the left side, was completely dark and served as the entrance to a building which seemed to be a simple apartment complex. However, there was something sinister about it. None of its windows had panes of glass in them, only a few forlorn shards here and there, like jagged fangs in a gaping maw. Those empty mouths appeared not just dark, but as if they actively sucked in any light.

Keeping to the opposite side from the shady building, we came to the glass door leading inside the eatery. Its name, “Black Shawarma,” was a simple, not animated, yet occasionally flickering neon sign made in ornate letters to resemble exotic Saddle Arabian writing.

Before we entered Delight extended her wing and used her primary to tickle Tin Flower’s nose. The filly loudly sneezed and woke up, almost falling from my back as a result. Glaring at Del, she yawned widely.

“Are we at the Archives already?” Flower grumbled and glanced around sceptically.

“Not yet, we came to a place where we can grab a meal,” explained Delight before she pushed the door.

“Do they have mildew?” Tin Flower asked with another yawn. I realized that I couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not.

“Better.”

“Black Shawarma” was quite a normal place, well, in terms of sanitary conditions at least. Small, with only a couple of tables, but cozy. The metal furniture was rather worn, polished by the countless hooves of past patrons and covered in nicks and scratches, but it was clean.

As we came in, Delight wasted no time and approached a stallion behind a counter, and presumably made an order, because he immediately turned his attention to the stove. While the cook was busy preparing the order, Del quitely conversed with him; Flower and I took a seat at one of two available tables. The other table was taken by some elderly grey-maned mare, who was napping with her face in an empty plate and one hoof grasping a half-empty plastic cup of some drink, a dark brown, almost black liquid – probably coffee.

I couldn’t discern the quiet chat Del was having with the cook, but it didn’t seem to be very lively, just an exchange of a few phrases every so often. Speaking of him, the cook’s appearance was very unusual. At first glance he might appear to be just a unicorn stallion, albeit of very large stature, but as I tried to study him without outright staring, I saw what drew my attention.

A short body, lanky legs, high-set tail, long narrow muzzle and a horn of impressive length. Those weren’t unusual features for ponies, especially unicorns. However, being so pronounced and combined with an exceptional height, they pointed to the not-so-Equestrian roots of this stallion. It was Saddle Arabian blood showing itself. Which in turn explained the existence of such an exotic place in the city. A family business, most probably, with him being not only a cook but also the owner. I couldn’t say that back in my time Equestria’s borders were closed for any visitors, but it seemed that despite the cruel reality of Canterlot, it had become a refuge for more guests from the distant lands than ever before. Briefly, I wondered what became of Neighponia, Saddle Arabia, Zebrica and other ungulates’ countries, especially considering how much Equestria had changed.

As I mused, the stallion in question finished preparing four portions of shawarma but, before giving them to Delight he pointed a small device at the top of her neck. In the ray of greenish pale light emanated by that device, a row of lines of different thickness with numbers under them showed itself right on Delight’s skin. I was pretty sure it wasn’t there before, so it was probably made up of some kind of fluorescent ink. Was it another mark, something like the Moth mark on her cheek? Apparently, cutie marks weren’t sufficient anymore. I didn’t know that to think of it, honestly.

The device blinked, made a beeping sound and was promptly retracted back under the counter. The pegasus stretched her wing to grab the plates, but was again stopped by the stallion. She asked him something and in answer the cook looked directly at me and nodded questioningly in my direction. Realizing that my presence might be an issue, I cast my eyes down. As I had already learned, my facial expressions were rather limited and overall I probably didn’t look very friendly, especially after the recent fight, so I didn’t want to risk giving him the wrong impression. Still, I kept giving them occasional careful glances.

As before, I didn’t hear what they said to each other. But, after a long and wary look, the stallion finally let Delight return to the table and resumed his activities at the cooking station. Delight’s facial expression was neutral, even somewhat happy as she walked to our table, and I decided not to ask anything about that little hiccup.

A tray with two plates, two portions of shawarma on each, and two glasses of hot tea. I glanced across it at Tin Flower, who had dozed off, lulled to sleep by the dim light, warmth and quiet murmur of pots.

Delight gently poked her shoulder with the tip of her hoof.

“What’s that?” mumbled Flower, studying the contents of the plates with half-lidded eyes.

Shawarma, shaurma, doner, gyros… almost every nation had their own name for that kind of food. But in essence, it was the same everywhere. Falafel balls (or sliced meat in the case of griffins and other carnivores) wrapped in a flatbread together with some diced vegetables and garnished with a sauce. The ingredients might vary widely, but the formula had remained the same for centuries. I, myself, never had a chance to taste it, though I did see shawarma being sold on the streets of Manehattan and Fillydelphia amongst other street food.

Delight’s answer, however, was much more eloquent and spared Flower the extensive lecture.

“It’s shawarma.” With those words she took one of the rolls and dug in.

“That doesn’t explain anything,” Tin Flower complained, eyeing her portion with uncertainty.

For a moment I had trouble understanding Flower’s reluctance, but then I remembered that the poor filly spent her entire life at the Edge and considered mold tasty food. I had no idea what food rations consisted of or if Flower even got them.

Finally, she carefully took one of the roasted rolls in her non-metal hoof and sniffed at it. The filly showed no reaction, but tentatively took a small bite and chewed on it. Almost instantly, Flower’s eyes widened, and she all but tried to shove the entire portion in her mouth.

“Wow, you impress even me,” commented Delight with a full mouth, chuckling, a cucumber slice falling on the table along with a few drops of sauce.

That remark fell on deaf ears as Flower continued to greedily gorge on her meal, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. The smile fell off Del’s face upon seeing that display.

“You Edge kids have it hard, don’t you?” Delight quietly said.

As a being of metal, I had no ability to join them in their little feast and the only option I had was to forlornly watch my newfound friends sate their hunger.

Despite Delight starting to eat her portion earlier and having the advantage of being an adult pony, she and Tin Flower finished at the same time.

“Thank you so much, Delight,” said Flower, wiping the sauce and crumbs off her muzzle. “That was the tastiest thing I’ve eaten in my life.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Delight waved her hoof in answer and sipped on the still steaming tea. Flower soon joined her in enjoying their hot drinks.

For a while we sat in silence, resting from the extensive journey through the city.

“So, after we get your dragon, we are going to Stalliongrad, right?” said Flower out of nowhere, after another sip. I just stared at her in utter disbelief. How did she know? I glanced at Delight, but she only shrugged. Apparently, Flower noticed my confusion.

“Come on, Twilight, I spent years with Scuff Gear. He talks about only two things: how shiny and round the Magician’s ass was and how good it would be for all of us to get to Stalliongrad. No way he didn’t say a single word about both,” she explained with a roll of her eyes.

“Well… he did tell me about it,” I replied, “and it seems to me like a sensible option, considering everything I’ve learned and seen so far.” I intended to postpone this talk with Flower until I learned even more in the Archives, of course. “What do you think?’

“Yup, it sucks here. But…” Flower chewed on her lip, “Scuffy always told me to go there, though he never said how or even where exactly Stalliongrad is…”

“I agree,” Delight joined the conversation. “As much as I’d like to go on that journey, it won’t be easy by any means. With you,” -she pointed at me with her wingtip- “the Former One, we have a chance, I think. But our problems begin with the simple fact that nopony knows where Stalliongrad is, except that it is in the far north.”

“We can check the location in the Archives, I don’t see much of a problem,” I retorted.

“Twilight, there is not a single map with Stalliongrad on it in Canterlot,” came the explanation from Delight.

Oh. Well, that explains some things. Anyway, I checked my memory and with relief discovered that I still remembered most of the geography I once had learned.

“I can point it out on the map, if I get one.” More or less. “Not the most exact location, but I won’t miss completely.”

“Huh, that is why we can make it with you.” Del broke into a smile.

So what were the other problems?

“What else? Food and supplies, right?”

“That, too, yes.” Del nodded approvingly. “We will need to get food rations, and a lot of them. It won’t be easy because their distribution is controlled by The Crown. But that is the least of our problems.”

It was Flower’s turn to speak. “There are two big issues. First, we can’t just simply walk out of the city. We will have to go through the north Edge sectors, which is difficult by itself. The biggest problem, though, is the Toxic Dump. It is much bigger and… err, more toxic than in my sector. I’m not sure Wire’s protective gear will be enough.”

“And even if we manage that, we will have to wade through a lot of snow.” Delight readily gathered up the thread, adding her knowledge. “Those who failed to get to Stalliongrad but made it back alive say that about a hundred kilometers to the north a permafrost starts, with deep snow lying around even in summer. Speaking of which, we better not leave the city in winter, obviously.”

Before I could ask what season it was now, Flower spoke again.

“Also, it’s just the three of us right now, but I’m not going anywhere without Wire, and she is sure not going to leave her folks behind,” she said, with her gaze stalwart. “Not to mention your dragon.”

So, we were talking about getting enough food and gear for a full-blown expedition of… how many was it? One falling apart equinoid, two fillies and three mares. And a fully-grown dragon. That sounded like quite a predicament, considering that I had zero currency.

“It is all solvable,” I said instead. It did sound like a huge task, but it didn’t mean it was impossible to complete. “I mean, that stallion over there,” I pointed at the cook, “he has food – vegetables and such. He got them somewhere, didn’t he?”

“TCE sells a surplus of goods sometimes and there is always the black market,” answered Delight after a few moments of deep thinking. “The stripes import a lot of stuff, like, I dunno, garlic. TCE doesn’t grow it.”

“And we don’t have to go straight north, actually,” I continued. “Stalliongrad is located on the shore of Luna Bay – it’s north-west. So if we go straight west to the North Luna Ocean and then follow the shoreline by either boat or hoof, we will end up there eventually.” It was a better plan than either crossing Galloping Gorge and the Unicorn Range or blindly going north and then turning westward trying to go around them.

But my idea was instantly objected by Del.

“No way, the most western sector is the police HQ and the isoblock prison.” She shook her head vigorously with Flower following suit.

“We can always go through the Shitters further south,” the filly suggested nonchalantly.

“Ugh, thanks but no.” Delight made a face with Flower rolling her eyes to that.

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, we have no chance making it through the heavy industry sector and its toxic waste. The west Edge is all like that,” she finished, emphasizing her words with the tapping of her metal hoof. “Alone, maybe, but not together.”

“And we are going to have a blind pony amongst us,” I added, suddenly remembering that fact about Wire’s mother.

“Don’t underestimate Ms. Dust, she can see using her magic, so she won’t be as much of a burden as you think. Hollow Druse is very capable, we will be much better off with her.” Flower countered my concerns. “We just need to get them all out of the Edge and we are going to need more supplies, that’s all.”

The Arcane Sight, huh? That’s something I hadn’t heard about in a while. Though, that wasn’t what drew my attention, but the mention of needing to get Wire’s family out of the Canterlot outskirts as an additional step.

“The main problem I see,” Del said, finishing her tea, “is the rampaging dragon you need to deal with, Twilight. Do you have any ideas?”

“Not yet.” I sadly shook my head. “But I’m sure I will find something in the Archives.”

“Let’s move on then.”

We left “Black Shawarma” and once again began to trot through the backstreets of Canterlot. Flower and I followed Delight as she hurriedly navigated the depths of the city, the filly on her own hooves this time. The further we went, the more clean and prim our surroundings looked, and we stood out more noticeably, like an eyesore.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, we came to a narrow, dark and dirty backstreet. It was a dead-end passage formed by the backs of tower-like buildings, looming over us. The only light was coming from the distant sky, and as I looked up, I felt as if I was at the bottom of a deep well, with its walls made of glass, steel and concrete. The amount of litter strewn everywhere was giving the impression that the back alley was never properly cleaned up – the garbage cans standing guard near every backdoor were more or less empty, but the trash around them seemed to be ignored. That refuse had become a home for rats, who held a feast inside the rotting mounds. The only good thing about that street was the complete lack of anypony in sight.

“We should be close,” Del said, looking around, searching for number plates on the buildings. “Though I’ve never been to this part of Canterlot, if we came to the right address the Archives should be here.”

“Wait… Is that the building we need?” Flower suddenly exclaimed, pointing her metal hoof at the one near the end of the alley.

“Yea…” Delight nodded after some thoughtful looking at it. “How did you know?”

“I’ve seen it before,” the filly explained and then added, turning to me “it’s where I found your crystals.”

Upon hearing that I felt uneasy. Something wasn’t quite right, I just couldn’t put my hoof on it. Nevertheless, we proceeded closer to what was supposed be the Royal Archives.

Back in my days it was a stately ancient building, a part of the royal palace complex, existing in conjunction with the Royal Library. All recorded information in the history of Equestria could be found there. And such a great vault looked like a worthy place for all the knowledge of countless generations.

What I was looking at now was nothing short of miserable. Low and bulky, only about five stories high, the modern cradle of information was giving the impression of a small warehouse. Nestled betwixt two black skyscrapers, it looked as if it was squashed by their rears, however it seemed to face the backstreet unlike its neighbors. Its facade was one step away from crumbling – a weblike mosaic formed by countless cracks was disrupted in many places by fallen plaster. There were no signs or anything else adorning the falling apart walls, with the exception of the building and street numbers on the rusted plate on the corner. The windows were dark, but not completely so – in some a faint bluish glow could be seen, somewhere deep inside. Those forlorn archives, hidden deep in the recesses not far from the border with the gleaming Inner City, no longer appeared to me as a destination to crave for. As I looked at it, the flame of my hope was giving way to doubt.

Even Delight and Flower seemed to be disappointed, yet it was the mellow pegasus who took the first steps towards the entrance.

“Let’s go. The sooner we get out of this part of the city, the better,” Delight said, motioning for us to follow with her wing.

I followed Del through the door, noting that it wasn’t made of wood, but metal, slightly corroded with time. A sonorous protest of rusty hinges was the only sound greeting us as we entered the empty room. It was supposed to be a reception, I think, though neither the guard post, nor large tall table, had anypony sitting behind them. A lone blinking gas lamp was spilling its pale, slightly cyan light on the dust covering the floor and furniture. That place looked desolate and eerie, as if abandoned, which was only fueling my growing sense of unease.

I glanced at Flower and Delight – they answered me with silent concerned looks, mirroring my feelings. We gathered closer and proceeded further, to the only other door in that room.

It wasn’t as squeaky, but maybe I just didn’t notice, for my attention was completely diverted to the contents of the room. That door led directly to what could be nothing but the Archives themselves.

Before me I beheld a vast chamber, so large that I could see neither the walls, nor the ceiling. That, however, was not only because of the sheer size of the hall; but also because there were no lamps whatsoever. The deep blackness was weakly disrupted by blue blinking lights of some large box-like machines, faintly rustling with their insides. Those lights were reflected by countless crystals residing on the shelves of many stacks surrounding those mysterious contraptions.

Not a single pony came to meet us; these Archives were silent as a tomb, with the exception of the murmur and whispers of the blinking boxes. I began to really doubt this was the actual Archives – not a single book or scroll was in sight.

Stifling an urge to turn back and go as far away as possible from this creepy place, I took a tentative step forward. Amidst the labyrinth of shelves and machines I could see an opening somewhere in the middle of the room, lit by an actual light. I didn’t know what I was expecting to find there, but it felt like a start. As I moved, I felt Flower pressing into my side. Delight was close as well – her feathers brushing my other side.

Finally, we made it to that clearing. It was just a circular place free of anything besides a box filled with rectangular crystal plates. A blue lantern on the top of the box emanated cold lifeless light; my memory told me that if I weren’t made from metal it would be painful to look at. I glanced at the contents of the box once again, wondering what purpose those plates served, when a sudden realization hit me.

During the war we had already begun to use crystals to store information. My current existence was the perfect example of how effectively it could work. I turned around and took in my surroundings once more. Hundreds of tall shelves filled with crystal plates, and who knew how many more of them were submerged in the darkness. Even if only half of those crystals had any information in them, by the standards of my time, that vault would have more information than ten Royal Libraries.

“Welcome to the Royal Archives!” A voice came from the darkness behind me. It was familiar, painfully so, and sounded so wrong and so right at the same time.

I turned around to greet the voice owner, but all I saw were a pair of glowing eyes approaching from the shadows. A few moments later a figure emerged into the circle of light and I felt like the world had begun to crumble into nothingness.

Purple paint peeling from tarnished metal plates. Old-looking metal bangs of the mane, colored in indigo with a streak of magenta embracing a horn on the forehead. Sharp and delicate features of a young unicorn mare. Deep violet eyes.

“Good afternoon. My name is Twilight Sparkle. How can I help you?”

With my mind absolutely blank I stared back at myse… no. There couldn’t be two “myselfs”, that wasn’t how the world worked.

There was Twilight Sparkle, a pony who transcended death through science and magic and freed herself from the coils of mortal flesh.

And then there was me, an echo, an incomplete imprint of magic, pretending to be an entity.

I gazed back at Twilight Sparkle and she just looked back, smiling calmly, serenely… obliviously… lifelessly.

Then I started to realize something.

It is thought to be impossible to transfer a pony mind into a cybernetic body without them losing nearly all their memories and emotions. Red Wire’s words echoed in my mind, followed by those of Scuff Gear. Heard even about you – Twilight Sparkle, one the greatest heroes and scientists, who met a miserable and cruel end.

“Alright. If you need any assistance, I will be nearby,” Twilight said in an emotionless dull voice, a grotesque imitation of the one she once had. Without using magic she hauled the box on her back, in mechanical rigid motions, and left, dissolving into the shadows she had come from, not caring to take the lantern.

I just stood still, gazing at the silhouette moving in the darkness, trying to understand at who… or what I was looking.

“Did you know her?” came an unfamiliar voice from my side. I swung around to confront the other dweller of the Archives and my eyes met an equinoid who was leaning on the one of those large box-machines.

Their frame looked… strange. It wasn’t completely featureless like the one from the Tunnels, but it didn’t look feminine or masculine either. Rather… not entirely equine, its differences so subtle that I couldn't even point them out. As if this model wasn’t made by ponies or even equinoids. I felt like I had seen something like it before, but I just couldn’t remember where. However, their slightly buzzing voice sounded more male than anything else, so I decided to settle on that at least.

“We rarely have equinoids visiting us here, and none have ever reacted like that. Nor did any ponies for that matter,” he continued, not waiting for me to answer. “Anyway, as she said, welcome to the Royal Archives. Feel free to access the terminals” -the equinoid motioned with his hoof at the glowing screen on the side of one of the smaller box-machines- “but please do remember that this place is protected by The Crown.”

My mind was still in disarray, but I needed to focus. I might be an incomplete, imperfect reflection, but Spike was real. And so were Tin Flower, Red Wire and Clandestine Delight. I either needed to talk to Twilight and convince her to help me (if she, hopefully, had any memories) or continue on my own. Not for myself, whatever I was, but for them.

The equinoid patiently waited for my reaction. I turned my head to my sides – Del and Flower were there, confused and puzzled to various degrees, maybe even a bit perturbed, but silent and at attention. I turned back to the equinoid.

Alright, I needed to start somewhere. I really wished at that moment I could take a deep breath.

“What happened to her?” I asked the equinoid, glancing over my shoulder. In the darkness, a shape moved like a puppet and the soft clicks of gems clanking against each other could be heard.

“So, you do know she wasn’t an equinoid once,” the equinoid said and hemmed. “Twilight Sparkle was the first ever pony to attempt a transference and to subsequently discover the Transference Paradox.” In the corner of my eye I saw Flower scrunch her nose and try to mouth the word “subsequently”. “She lost all her memories and most of her sentience. However, The Crown decided to keep her online in case they returned one day.”

“Did they?” I asked, hoping that not all the knowledge she had was lost beyond recall.

“No. But at least she is good with helping me run the Archives.” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalantly, but it was obvious he was quite interested in me. I guess, he really wasn’t getting many visitors. “I’m the head Archivarius here, by the way. Or the only Archivarius for that matter.”

“May I talk to her?” I asked him another question, glancing over my shoulder, but Twilight was already gone.

“Sure.” He shrugged again. “But I told you, she doesn’t remember a thing.”

I swung my head around trying to locate Twilight. Eventually I heard the clop of metal hooves against the floor somewhere in the shadows betwixt tall shelves. I took a step towards it, but was stopped by a snowy white wing.

“Twilight, are you alright?” Delight asked me, with a very concerned expression. Over her shoulder I could see Flower, who looked just as nervous and in addition, conflicted.

I was not. I was acutely feeling my unliving rusty body on a psychological level, how wrong my existence was, especially in the presence of the real Twilight Sparkle. But I couldn’t let myself fall victim to that again. There were others depending on me this time.

“I’m not sure.”

“We can turn and just leave.” She looked at me with almost pleading eyes. “And if you need information we can get in touch with some of the other Former Ones.”

“No, I need to do this,” I retorted and prepared to leave, but was stopped by Tin Flower, who stepped right in front of me, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Twilight,” she quietly said, biting her lip, “I’m sorry.” She raised her eyes to look at me and I saw moisture glistening in them.

“For what?” Flower took me by surprise, but deep inside I knew what this all was about. She was starting to realize the full scale of what she had done by accidentally creating me.

“I don’t know, but I feel like I did something wrong.”

Did she? Tin Flower inadvertently brought back to semi-life part of the memories of a pony once known as Twilight Sparkle. If I forget for a moment the fact that she broke the law (which didn’t sound very reasonable to me in first place), I wouldn’t say that it was a very wrong thing to do. A very strange thing, admittedly, but not necessarily wrong. After all, if that hadn’t happened, Delight might not have made it out of the Tunnels alive. And Twilight obviously didn’t know about Spike.

“You did nothing wrong, Flower.” I placated the distraught filly and gave her a comforting hug to reinforce my words. “Nothing at all.”

I wished that moment lasted longer, but I had to talk with Twilight. It had become an issue affecting not only me. So I broke the hug, smoothed Flower’s mane (or rather, tried to) and stepped into the shadows listening for any sounds of activity. I should have taken a lantern with me, in retrospect, but I totally forgot about it in the spur of the moment. Anyway, it didn’t take me very long to find Twilight.

Despite me being just a few hooflengths from her, she paid me no attention. Instead, Twilight was focused on the semi-transparent crystal plates she was carrying around in the box. She was taking them out, studying them for a few moments and then putting them on the shelves. Her motions were a bit jerky, like those of a toy in the magic hold of an inexperienced puppeteer. She was far more than just a step behind all the equinoids I had met so far. One more thing I noted: her horn didn’t light up, not even once. She wasn’t the Element of magic, not anymore.

“Twilight Sparkle?” I called, unable to watch any longer the mockery of life that she was.

“Yes. How can I help you?” She instantly stopped mid-movement and turned to me, beaming with a rigid hollow smile.

I could ask her so many questions, but there were only a few that actually mattered.

“Do you remember your friends?” I inquired and prepared for the blow.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I never had any friends,” Twilight answered readily and without a pause, her voice as oblivious as it could be. I was expecting that, but it still hurt to hear.

“Do you remember Spike?” He was still alive, that I knew, and maybe she did too. Maybe he was even right underneath us at this very moment, preying upon the Tunnel dwellers or tearing himself apart in blind madness.

“A spike of what?” she tilted her head in an uncanny attempt to mimic confusion. “We had a series of lag spikes in connection with the Sky Palace mainframe recently, but I can assure you that the problem was fixed.”

Friends defined who Twilight Sparkle was; memories of them were at the core of her personality. Spike was her family. But there was one more memory, no less important, burned into her mind like an image of the Sun.

“Do you remember Her?”

“I’m sorry, but you need to specify your request,” came an answer, quite a fair one, I guess.

“Do you remember Princess Celestia?” I asked with hope in my voice, looking right into her eyes, tentative yet empty.

And for a moment she paused, making my virtual heart skip a beat. Maybe not everything was lost? Maybe I could bring her memories back with the crystals inside me in the same way it worked for me? Was this my purpose?

Her eyes twitched for a moment, so imperceptibly that I might as well have imagined it.

“No,” she finally said after what felt like an eternity. “No, I do not.” That phrase was built a bit differently from her usual dry reporting fashion, and I thought it was said in a different intonation, one with life behind it. But then I realized that I was just fooling myself.

Once again, Wire's words resurfaced in my mind.

Memories define who we are. If you have the memories of a pony named Twilight Sparkle, you are Twilight Sparkle, like it or not.

I had to face it – I was all that was left of Twilight Sparkle. It was confusing, it was scary, it was wrong. I could no longer deny that it was me who now had to deal with this strange new world. I knew nothing about it, and I didn’t know even what I was supposed to do with it or if it was my place to do anything about disharmony and injustice anymore. I only wished I had my friends with me. Well, my “old” friends. Speaking of which, one of them was the reason why I came here in the first place. As if reading my thoughts, “Twilight” spoke once again.

“It appears that I don’t possess any information you need. Would you like to access the Royal Archives database?”

It didn’t take me much time to learn how to use the terminals in the Archives. Reading from a glass screen was a bit strange, and the keyboard’s keys were a bit too small for my crude and uncooperative hooves, but overall it was incredibly convenient. All I needed was just to type my inquiry and watch the machine find the entry kept in some remote vault – “the server”; if it was absent, the number of the crystal plate containing the information would be shown to me instead. In such cases “Twilight” would venture into the depths of the Archives and dutifully come back with a gleaming record in a sadly similar automated fashion.

Since I still had doubts about the blank state of this robotic Twilight’s memory, the so called Transference Paradox was the first thing I decided to check. To my disappointment, I didn’t learn anything conceptually new.

“Any attempts in transferring a pony consciousness always conclude with the subject losing 100% of memories, magical abilities and most sentience in the process. Replacing limbs and organs with inorganic counterparts leads to a gradual loss of magical abilities first and eventual loss of memory up to complete amnesia, depending on the ratio of organic parts to inorganic with correlation numbers applied to different organs. See the table of coefficients below…”

But what was causing it? How to avoid it? Was there a way to recover any of the lost memories? No answer, not even a single theory. Scientifically, it just happens, even though there is no evident reason for it to occur. It was as if the Paradox was discovered yesterday by a group of aspirants and not five hundreds years ago by experienced researchers. Or maybe just nopony cared enough to study it, which sounded like a very plausible reason in the modern world. I mean, they still use Maretin furnaces, what did I expect?

Unfortunately, very unfortunately, it was a recurring theme for most things I searched. A lot of information without substance, barely any actual knowledge with almost no details.

The Great War? It took place and was won by Equestria. The only thing I learned was that it apparently lasted approximately one more year after that accident with Rainbow Dash and I. But how was it won? No answer. Instead, the entry contained an excessive collection of documents, like casualties records, logistic reports and other examples of unnecessary bureaucracy.

The Crown? It was formed in place of the temporary government, at some point during the war. But I couldn’t even find a date when it took place, because the entire entry was a mess of countless governmental statements, manifests and acts.

I could understand why two fillies from the industry zone had never heard of a group of heroes from five centuries ago, but I couldn’t see any reason why the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony were almost absent from the Archives. Some of my friends were mentioned very briefly, but not as the Bearers. The Elements themselves were never mentioned anywhere. There weren’t any entries about Nightmare Moon or Discord, either. That was very concerning.

So. Applejack and her family were mentioned as founders of the Transcontinental Company of Equestria, no dates, no details. Not even the names of Big Macintosh, Applebloom, or Granny Smith. Nothing about what happened to her after that. Just a single mention, only once.

Rarity was mentioned as one of first members of The Crown, and apparently she lived to a ripe age, but again, no further details. What was her role in that new government? Did she have any children? And what about Sweetie Belle? Nothing.

Me after the accident? I was a researcher after the war ended and made some great contributions to the development of an artificial intelligence. How that story ended I knew already. Nothing else.

Spike, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie might as well have never existed in history. Not a single mention anywhere.

Speaking of which, the history of Equestria after the war was extremely vague. It consisted of the same bureaucratic literary garbage. Even if it contained any useful information, it was lost to me in the paragraph-long obscure formulations. I skimmed through it, because I had no time to meticulously study half a millennium full of events. Nothing caught my eye, and of course it all wasn’t explaining in the slightest how a land of vast green pastures and benevolence had turned into a semi-frozen technological nightmare on the brink of total collapse.

And then I typed what I probably should have done first, but feared too much to learn. The Princesses.

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, who was also known as the Princess of Love, died during the Great War, fighting for Equestria on a battlefield. For a moment I sat in silence, honoring my babysitter, sister-in-law and, most importantly, great friend. In the end, she managed to escape from captivity only to find herself thrown into the crucible of war. It was not a fate she deserved, but something was telling me that it might very well be the reason why Equestria won the war – the fierce love of a demi-goddess for her country. Suddenly, I realized that not a single entry mentioned the Crystal Empire…

Princess Luna, Heir of the Moon, Guardian of the Dreamscape heroically died in the magical explosion she caused to destroy the changeling hive, thus putting an end to the changeling threat to Equestria. I hung down my head. She did it, after all. She avenged her sister but sacrificed herself to do so. Nor was that a fate deserved, no matter how valiant it was. Again, I sat in silence, honoring her noble deed. We didn’t spend much time together, but we still were good friends.

So this was how it all went. The Princesses sacrificed their lives so Equestria could live through its darkest time. And for what? Only for darker times to be brought by the ponies on themselves. That was not fair, that was not right.

I prepared to leave, since there wasn’t much more I wished to learn. And I honestly doubted I could – these archives were a joke. But then my gaze slid onto the last entry, which I ignored on purpose, but still failed to evade completely.

Princess Celestia, Heir of the Sun, the Dawnbringer died during the Great War, fighting for Equestria on a battlefield.

What..? At first I thought I reread the entry about Cadance, so alike they were, but I wasn’t mistaken. It made no sense. I saw with my very eyes how Chrysalis killed Her. I was at the funeral. That entry was a blatant lie.

Nopony, not even the Princesses could bring a once-living creature back to life. Sombra, maybe, but it said that She fought for Equestria, so it made no sense no matter how you turned it.

Nothing in that entry was making any sense. But then again, these archives were a vault for the useless fruits of overgrown bureaucracy. Most of the information was devoid of any actual meaning. If it was true to begin with. Who knew how much other data was incorrect?

Actually, it was all beginning to make sense. The Crown appeared to be a dictatorship, and from what I knew such a form of a government had a tendency to purge or twist any knowledge threatening the regime. Anypony could come here, after all, but they would learn no history from the history.

I should have expected that, really. Now I felt very bad for dragging Flower and Delight here, despite their rather justified protests. Speaking of which, where were they? I had probably spent hours digging through that database. I remembered seeing Flower taking a nap not far from where I sat, but then she had gone somewhere. Where Delight was, I had not a single idea. Even “Twilight” was gone.

Feeling extremely frustrated I stood up from my place. With the complete failure of my plan, we had to come up with a new one. And this time I really should listen to them.

It took me quite some time navigating through passways submerged in shadows and eerie light between the shelves and terminals, but I finally stumbled upon Tin Flower. And she wasn’t alone – the filly, looking much more invigorated, was vividly but quietly discussing something with Archivarius, both sitting beside “Twilight”. The equinoid who was supposed to resemble my likeness appeared to be offline – her eyes weren’t glowing, and the metal frame was still like a statue. As I approached closer, I saw the purple-painted plates had been removed from her head and body, revealing the inner workings.

I came a bit closer, and Archivarius noticed me and gave me a nod, but said nothing. I stopped near one the terminals, not wanting to interrupt their talk.

“...So, these are solid gems, right?” Flower said holding one of “Twilight’s” crystals in her hoof. It looked very familiar to me, like something from my times. “The old tech?”

“Yes. When the transference was attempted for the first time, clusters of microcrystals weren’t invented yet. And since then, nopony bothered to transfer her data,” Archivarius patiently explained.

“She doesn’t seem to have much of that anyway,” Flower grumbled, returning the gem inside the metal body. “Even my left leg has more personality.” Her last words had a slight reverb to them, since she had shoved her muzzle deep inside “Twilight's” torso.

“Hey, Archivarius,” she asked as her head came back from the equinoid’s inner workings.

“Hm?”

“Do you and this “Twilight” have an owner?”

“Technically, no,” Archivarius answered after some thought, “but we both are property of The Crown.” Then he narrowed his green glowing eyes. “Why do you ask, little one?”

“Well, technically, if you have no owner you are either breaking the law or you are some kind of exception I’ve never heard of.” Flower finally finished tinkering with “Twilight” and now was fully engaged in the conversation, pointing her hoof accusingly at Archivarius. I began to feel that it all was taking a direction I wasn’t going to like.

“We are property of The Crown we are The Crown.” Archivarius stood up from where he was sitting and tried to do his best to look intimidating. “We are the law.”

“Uh-huh, sure you are.” Apparently, Flower wasn’t impressed by the display at all. “Does it mean you and she are free?”

“I guess.” Again, only after some thought, Archivarius answered. “Why are you asking all of this?”

“I ask, if “Twilight” is free to come and go as she wishes,” Flower said, patting the still metal body on the back.

“I’m in charge of the Archives, not her, strictly speaking. So if Twilight Sparkle wishes, she is free to leave indeed. But she will have to answer to The Crown for her actions.” He narrowed his eyes again. “And it has to be her own will to leave, not your programming. Do it and you will be charged with theft of royal possessions. It’s a death sentence or the Crystal Mines, if you will be lucky enough to choose.”

Alright, now I wasn’t liking it in the slightest.

“Tin Flower? What are you up to?” I inquired to the filly, leaving the shadow from where I was listening to them.

“Oh, here you are, Twilight.” Flower beamed at me, like she wasn’t planning any crimes just a moment before. “Did you find what you looked for?”

“Sadly, no.” I shook my head. We would talk about that, surely, but after I prevented us from getting into even bigger trouble. “You didn’t answer my question.’’

“Oh, that.” She nonchalantly waved her hoof in dismissal. “I just thought about transferring your memory crystals into that body.”

“You what?” I exclaimed in sheer disbelief. It was wrong on every level. “You can’t do that! That… that will be murder!” was the first reason that came into my mind. That “Twilight” might not have any of the memories she was supposed to have, but she was still a sentient being.

“Listen, Twilight, this ‘Twilight Sparkle’ has the intelligence of a calculator and she has no memories whatsoever,” Flower retorted. “I can slap a sticker saying “Twilight” on that terminal over there with the same result...”

“Now, wait, both of you,” Archivarius said, coming closer to us with confusion written all over his robotic features. “What is this all about?”

“This equinoid here has the memories of Twilight Sparkle! She is h…” Flower began to explain, pointing her hoof at me, but I didn’t let her finish. Putting my hoof over her mouth, I dragged her aside.

“Could you excuse us for a minute?”

I let Flower go only when we were far enough so Archivarius wouldn’t hear us. The filly looked really annoyed by my actions, so I spoke before she could start arguing with me.

“Flower, you can’t just go around telling that to ponies!” I chided her in a harsh whisper.

“You still don’t believe that you are Twilight, do you?” she almost barked back, giving me a look full of disappointment.

“That’s not it.” It really wasn’t a problem anymore. However, I couldn’t say if it was a good thing. Existing had consequences. “I’m not really sure The Crown will be glad to know I’m still alive.”

“Why?” Her look changed to a puzzled one. “You were a great scientist and a big deal, what’s wrong with that?”

Yes, a scientist, but nothing more, according to the archives. There was not a single mention of the Bearers (as the Bearers) or the Elements themselves in the database. Something was telling me whoever was in charge didn’t want them to be around anymore, me probably included.

“It’s… complicated.” Explaining everything would have taken me more time than we had. “Just don’t tell anypony.”

However, all I received was an eye roll.

“I’m pretty sure Archivarius already knows, Twilight. I’m no unicorn, but that equinoid here never had his gems cleared. And he is centuries old, as he says.” She glanced back, where we left him. “Methinks, he very well may be a Former One.”

If I had a spine to begin with (well, I had the metal one, but it wasn’t the same) I would get shivers up it. There was something off about Archivarius, I couldn't deny that. And Flower’s explanation sounded very plausible. I wasn’t recognizing anypony I knew in that equinoid, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t know who I was.

“Then we should go now,” I said out loud and began to move away from where I stood to look for Delight and be gone from the Archives as soon as possible. But Flower dashed right in front of me.

“No, you don’t understand!” Flower pressed her hooves into my chest, as if to push me back. Of course, I didn’t move, but I got the message and stopped. She sat in front of me, her hooves still pressed into me as though she wasn’t sure of her initial success. “It’s our only chance.”

“Chance for what?” I hissed. “To be caught by the police? Or the Royal Guard?”

“If he wanted to call any of them, they would be here long ago, don’t be ridiculous.” Flower tapped her hoof against my metal plating. Then she pointed with another behind my shoulder and said, “I’m talking about the body, it’s in almost perfect condition and that’s not all. It is made from old metal, every part of it. If we want to make it to Stalliongrad we need it.” She looked critically over my current sordid vessel for my entity. “Those rusty bones are going to fall apart in a few weeks, even with all that Litany changed. And if you think we can buy something like that later, the entirety Canterlot will freeze five times over before we get enough e-bits.”

“But she is an equinoid, not just a terminal!” I objected, my voice involuntarily rising in indignation. “She has sentience, she has feelings. She may not be “Twilight” and she is not alive in the same sense as you, but she is still a living being.” But as I talked, I saw no change in Tin Flower’s eyes. She was giving me an unamused stare all that time. And was that pity in her unwavering gaze? Frustrated, I used my last argument, “Taking, no, stealing her body for myself would be outright murder!”

“Twilight,” Flower calmly began in almost patronizing tone, “she is just a machine. Not everything that talks, looks and acts like a pony is an equinoid.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with the metal hoof, while twirling another in the air, looking for words. “Equinoids, they have, like, a ‘true’ sentience – a fully-fledged AI. Yes, they are beings, though some will disagree.” She again pointed with her hoof behind my back, where the exposed ancient crystals gleamed inside the metal skeleton. “But she doesn’t have that. She has a programming and it’s not the same. She is not alive or dead, she is just a thing,” she finished, and gave me a hard, but somewhat sympathetic look. “Now, let’s go, you are moving into a new home.”

Flower didn’t need to drag or push me back this time. She was making sense, after all. I wanted to believe she was. Was it my ignorance, or was it that easy? To so simply draw a line between a ‘being’ and a ‘thing’? And that ‘fully-fledged AI’ which granted a machine the right to be considered a being, wasn’t it programming too? Who was to judge where the programming ended and the entity started? Suddenly, I felt that the existence of the Church of the Machine Goddess, with all its followers’ contempt for organic life, wasn’t only logical, but even justified.

“Archivarius?” Flower whisked me out of my thoughts, as we returned to the offline ‘Twilight’.

“Yes?” he asked back, rising his brow.

“Did The Crown specify how Twilight Sparkle’s memories were supposed to return?”

“No. Remember, I’m taking care of the Archives, not other equinoids.” Archivarius narrowed his eyes in suspicion again, though I could tell he was interested.

“Then I’d like to restore her memories,” Flower simply said.

“Really? How?” His eyes were no longer narrow with vague apprehension, but wide from curiosity, glancing between me, Tin Flower and ‘Twilight Sparkle’.

“This equinoid here is Twilight Sparkle,” -Flower pointed at me- “and I want to transfer the memories she has into her true body.”

Archivarius gave me a long, very long, yet expressionless stare. But when it was starting to become really uncomfortable, his eyes flashed, or I thought they did, and he spoke.

“Do go on.” The approval was said in a calm, nonchalant voice, as if we weren’t talking about a potentially disastrous transfer of memories which also happened to involve royal property, an illegal not-really-an-equinoid and a underage criminal, not counting a former prostitute.

“Just like that?” It was my turn to ask question.

“I said it’s not my business.” Archivarius shrugged. “I won’t stop you.”

I was sitting paralyzed and staring into the dead eyes of ‘Twilight’. There was no internal reason for that – Flower simply turned off all my body systems except for the ‘brains’ as she put it. And asked me not to think too hard, unless I wanted to get overheated.

It was a rather unpleasant state of existence, being unable to move and feel. It was like the tunnels under the Edge all over again or the moment I woke up. I couldn’t turn my head around, but my field of vision was wide enough to see a lot of things.

A mere hoof in front of me was the body of ‘Twilight’ with many plates removed, revealing sockets for gems – some of them already empty. Even despite Flower’s and then Delight’s reassurances I still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of uneasiness. Like I was about to steal not only a body, but a life. No matter how miserable ‘Twilight’s’ existence was, I felt like she was a being who deserved to be respected. Or that somewhere deep inside she still had some memories from her past. I guess, my lack of knowledge, or rather non-existence of recordings, of the implications of the Transference Paradox was preventing me from believing that everything Twilight, everything… I was had been lost in that attempt.

In the corner of my vision I could see Delight. Her single eye gleamed in the shadows as she observed Flower’s labours while perched atop one of the large terminals. Occasionally she would glare at Archivarius, since it was him who found her taking a nap on one of the shelves, amongst some papers she had managed to find. He didn’t take such treatment of his beloved archives very well, and thus the pegasus was awakened in a rather rude fashion – shoved from that shelf with the full force of two mechanical hooves.

Archivarius himself was leaning on the terminal, calmly and patiently watching Tin Flower work. From time to time he commented on the process, giving the savant little mechanic tips and tricks, but never leaving his post.

Taking into account my lack of knowledge about the average mechanical skill nowadays, I couldn’t fairly judge that of Flower. But by my own experience, she was a prodigy. She starkly reminded me of Moondancer – the little filly had almost the same focused fervor Moonie possessed during work. Flower moved fast and nimbly, assembling and disassembling my and ‘Twilight’s’ bodies with a dexterity even most unicorns couldn’t hope to achieve. She clearly knew what she was doing, which was amazing since she learned all that by herself without knowing how to properly read. I wondered briefly of what she would be capable of when she finally learned to read, and that it might be me who could teach her…

“Alright, Twilight. I’m going to turn you offline and put your memory crystals inside the new body. You won’t even notice anything… I think,” she finally said, wiping her grime-covered hooves on her clothing.

Unable to give any answer or, more importantly, clarify that uncertain detail, I began to panic. What if I lost any memories I had since I had awakened in Canterlot? What if all my memories were wiped because of the Transference Paradox still affecting ‘Twilight’s’ body? What if…

And then everything went black.

But only for a single moment, as if I simply blinked.

When my eyes opened again, I saw not the purple painted muzzle, but a slumped rusted frame, battered and wrapped in rags dirty with oil and dried blood. It worked!

I blinked and took a sharp breath. Blinked! And breathed!

Realizing that I could move, I looked around. The new body felt almost natural – smooth and swift motions, a much more rich range of feelings – and it was my size and color. Whoever had designed it had planned for me to feel as little difference as possible, it seemed.

As was I turning around, looking at myself and testing my limbs I noticed Flower, Del and Archivarius looking at me as well. Flower was the first to speak.

“Twilight?”

“Yes?” I was still twirling around, enjoying what had to be the pneumatics. “This new body is just amazing!”

“I’m glad you are enjoying it and I’m glad you made it.” At that moment I realised that Flower was looking at me with concern. Del and Archivarius were giving me uncertain glances just as well.

“‘Made it’?” I asked, confused. I thought it all went without a hitch, and I seemed to have no problems. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never worked with crystals like yours.” Flower fidgeted somewhat in embarrassment, but then quickly added, “Nopony ever had, I think. So I didn’t know what to expect.” She looked me right in the eyes. “It took half an hour for you to boot.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. It sounded… scary. I just blinked, but thirty minutes passed in reality. It could have been hours. Days. Weeks. Five hundred years.

“It’s alright, you just got me worried for a sec.” I could clearly see how Flower was growing more relaxed with each moment, relief written all over her face. “I’m gonna run diagnostics one more time, just in case, and we are good to go.”

As she said the last part, I glanced at Archivarius to see his reaction to that, but he remained silent, bearing no expression but vivid curiosity gleaming in his eyes. He was unnerving at best, outright creepy otherwise. He looked like a grotesque mimicry of a pony, made so lifelike that it became uncanny. I couldn't even fathom what was in his mind. If Archivarius was a Former One, I couldn’t understand why he would work for the Crown, and in such a place – a forsaken and forgotten repository of lies. But he said he was the property of the Crown, right? However, he didn’t seem to comply with his masters entirely – he just let a ragtag clique basically take royal property. In any case, if he indeed never had his crystals cleared, then I would still be wary of a pony who spent centuries in solitude confined to one single place. Pony or equinoid, it just couldn’t be healthy.

As if sensing me thinking of him, Archivarius, followed by Delight, began to walk towards me.

“Glad you are still with us,” said Delight, smiling. Chuckling, she added, “And you look much better, not like you are going to start a rampage anymore.”

“Thanks.” I chuckled as well and gave a momentary glance to my ‘old’ body. Yikes. “I’m glad about it too.”

“If you weren’t smashing into walls and trying to kill ponies,” Flower grumbled from somewhere at my side, a small wrench in her teeth, “ you would have looked fine. And,” -she spit it out and pulled her hoof from inside of my chest- “...what the synth-hay is that?”

I turned my head back as far as I could to see what Flower was talking about. Del and Archivarius came closer and craned their necks to see the small object Flower was holding in her hooves.

“Isn’t it one of those empty crystals?” Del commented, as she moved Flower’s hoof with her wingtip to take a better look.

I could see that Archivarius had narrowed his eyes in thought, but remained silent.

“It is,” confirmed Flower, but the puzzled look didn’t vanish from her face. “But it was not connected to anything and it was kinda hidden.”

From all this commotion by my side I couldn’t see a thing, not to mention that there were limits to how far I could turn my head. So I stretched my hoof to Flower.

“Let me take a look.”

The crystal was of a familiar design, a solid one (though I yet had to see those “clusters of microcrystals”, so I could be mistaken). An amethyst with classic unicorn facetting, either of average quality or just worn out with time. But it was telling me nothing about its purpose. It also was set in a silver case encrusted with smaller button-like semi-precious stones, which I couldn’t name, but I noted their rarity, very bright rich magenta and deep blue colors. It was obviously enchanted; inside the translucent violet depth a glow of magic could be clearly seen.

“Looks like a recording crystal, like the ones I used,” I voiced my closest guess, “but I can’t be sure until the enchantment is checked.” Which was not going to happen any time soon, since none of us was a unicorn.

As I rolled the crystal in my hooves, a thought struck me – it wasn’t just a decorative casing, it was a specifically crafted and enchanted setting to make it usable by non-unicorns. But my company might not know that.

“It also looks like it can be activated by non-magic users…” I mumbled, continuing to study the mysterious crystal, searching for anything that would reveal its purpose.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Flower eagerly said from under my hooves, stretching hers to snatch the gem from me.

“Wait, Flower, I said that I don’t know what enchantment it holds. And do you remember what happened last time?” I still had no idea what was happening in Archivarius’ head, but I was pretty sure that if I made the crystal explode like what happened in Flower’s shack, he would call all the Royal Guard in the city and also personally hunt me until the end of my days for violating his precious archives.

“It may contain something very important, like your last message or something,” the filly retorted. “Don’t you want to know?”

I absolutely craved to know, more than anything else. I didn’t know anything about my past “future” or why and how I attempted a transference. And I was one hundred and twenty percent sure that the crystal didn’t end up inside my body by accident. Somepony left a message to be heard either by me after the transference attempt or by anypony who found it in the case of failure. Ironically, I happened to be both, strange as it might sound.

I glanced at Archivarius, but he was silent and almost expressionless, besides the curiosity in his eyes. Our eyes met and he gave me a very small nod.

“Alright, let’s hope it’s worth it.”

I breathed in deeply and exhaled (Goddesses, it felt so good to finally be able to do it) and pressed the smaller gem in the casing which I hoped was the activating one – my memory was a bit fuzzy about such contraptions.

To my great relief, nothing exploded and the crystal remained in my hooves steadily, simply glowing and emanating faint static. However, after a few moments the audio message began to play.

“I haven’t used these recording gems for so long, I almost forgot how to enchant them.” I didn’t recognize it immediately, but it was my own voice! A bit hoarse and sounding very tired, but it was still me.

“Weren’t you supposed to say the date and other boring stuff before you start? You are getting old, Twily.” Moondancer! She sounded mostly the same, a bit different in fashion, as I did. And then I realised – in that recording both Moonie and I sounded old.

“So are you!” My voice barked back at Moonie. Did I become a grumpy old mare? Such a shame it didn’t have a date to know when it was happening.

“Sheesh, relax,” Moondancer replied. “Stop being so nervous – it will all work perfectly.”

“Yeah, and then I will throw you a party!” Pinkie! I hadn’t heard or seen her in ages! If Moonie and I sounded old, and the war did not last for a long time after the last thing I remembered, then it meant she survived. Speaking of old – Pinkie’s voice was a bit different too – more low now. “‘Welcome-to-a-new-body Party’!” That made me chuckle. She might sound older, but it was still the same Pinkie. “Wait, does it count like a second birthday? Do I need to plan two birthdays for you from now on? Twice as many parties!” With her last words, her voice faded away as if she walked, no, hopped away. I felt a prick in my proverbial heart. I missed her so much. I missed all of them.

“You know, you can at least try not to look so gloomy and wish us luck,” Moonie spoke again, addressing somepony else.

“I’m still not certain about these enchantments. Many ponies have tried to achieve immortality, but it doesn’t work through conventional magic.” That mare’s voice I didn’t recognize, though it sounded somewhat familiar. I was sure I had heard it before, but I couldn’t remember who it belonged to for the life of me. The fact that it also had a strange echoing, distorted quality to it wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“It’s not immortality, it’s a transference,” Moondancer calmly retorted.

“There is no reason for it not to work.” ‘I’ didn’t sound that serene, however. “We all checked them – they are impeccable, just like the gems,” ‘I’ snapped at the unknown voice.

“And we are going to check them again, right before the experiment is going take place,” Moonie said, in placating tone, most probably addressing me and not the unknown mare.

“It's not about how correctly they were cast, it's about the enchantments themselves.” The mysterious speaker wasn’t as irritated as ‘I’ sounded, more pleading than anything else. “I still think you should have included all of my suggestions.”

“No way! No dark magic!” ‘I’ began to outright yell. “Look at what they have done to you!” What? What were they talking about? Who was that pony?

“At least they worked,” the unknown mare grumbled, and added, “if it was so easy to make what you want to, then we would be surrounded by undying ponies.”

“You almost sound like you don’t want us to succeed.” Now even Moondancer sounded a bit cross.

“It’s because I want you to, I’m doing this,” exclaimed the mysterious mare in exasperation. “It’s just… one can’t bend Harmony’s rules using its own tools!”

“We are not resorting to dark magic!” ‘My’ anger was incoercible, however. Was that who I became by the end of ‘my’ life? A hysterical old mare? “Nothing good ever comes out of that!”

“Alright, alright, we are all nervous, but we need to stop this bickering. It is too late to change anything anyway.” Moondancer, judging by the sound of hooves shuffling, had positioned herself betwixt me and that mare. Though, I could only guess that. “Listen, if something happens and we were wrong, then you can do whatever you deem necessary. Do you agree, Twi?” Her voice sounded louder and clearer as she addressed ‘me’.

“Fine,” came an answer accompanied by the sound of a mane blown out of eyes, “there isn’t going to be any need for that, anyway.”

“Now let’s go and have a party with Pinkie,” continued Moondancer, “she has even managed to get a cake somewhere...”

The sound of hooves clopping on the floor fading away signified a logical, and a few moments later, with a sharp crack of static, physical end of the recording.

It… was something. More questions than answers, as usual. A lot of new information to process. Suddenly I noticed that the silence which took reign after the recording had ended stretched for far too long – nopony said a single word. In fact, Flower, Del and Archivarius were staring at me with wide eyes.

I looked over myself and duly noted that I was glowing. The crystal in my hooves remained dormant, but it had awakened something in my new body.

I could see something inside me was intaking magic and emanating it at the same time… it was as if I had magic in my control, except I didn’t. But… I could feel... something? Was it magic interacting with my inner workings? It felt almost the same way magic felt when I had my original body.

This body was as good as it could get, I suppose, but it was still wrong, I couldn’t wield magic – the horn on top my head was nothing but an aesthetic feature… or was it? Very carefully I concentrated on that feeling of a flow of the raw magical energy swirling around me, coming in and out of my body through the gaps in the plates. It wasn’t swirling chaotically, there was a pattern… out of the crystals I thought to be empty and into a shaft inside the horn. Yes, I could feel, albeit with great difficulty, that circuit. But how could it be possible? Of course, it had to be an acranium core inside the horn! But did it mean I could try and disrupt that circle and funnel it into a spell? I decided to give it a try.

And then there was an explosion.

Well, that didn’t work.

Or, rather, it did. In my excitement and obliviousness I committed the most basic of mistakes in magic – I funneled it into itself with a very predictable result. Thankfully, this equinoid body wasn’t too realistic, overwise I would have ended up with an inability to cast magic for a few days and a nasty headache. Though, the first repercussion was open to debate, if, of course, I somehow truly regained my magic in the first place.

And, most luckily, I didn’t shut down. But that was where any good outcomes from this mishap ended.

Because I wasn’t casting any particular spell, the explosion didn’t ignite or have any other unpleasant properties, but that was generously compensated for by the amount of sheer physical force emitted. So, the Archives were now a huge wreck, to say it lightly.

I was knocked back, and while I didn’t suffer any injuries, at least from what I could tell, it took me some time to untangle my limbs and regain a standing position. And by that moment I could hear the tinkling sound of broken crystals falling around me like glass rain.

Yeah, the Archives were totally ruined now. But that wasn’t what really bothered me at that moment. I swirled my head around looking for Tin Flower and Delight, for whom my mistake could have been much more harmful.

One thing I noted despite my worry – I could see in the dark now. Not as good as during the day, surely, but it was still better than nothing, because the explosion knocked the already modest lights out. However, even with my augmented vision I could see no equine silhouettes anywhere – standing upright or strewn on the floor.

“Twilight, up here!” came a call from the above. It was then I realised that I could hear a flapping of wings through the cacophony of the calamity taking place around me. I looked up.

Near the ceiling, Delight was hovering in the air, holding Flower in her hooves. To my immense relief they looked disheveled, but overwise unscathed. Though, there was still no sign of Archivarius, which was a good and bad thing at the same time. I didn’t want him to get hurt, but I wasn’t very keen on meeting him right now either.

Suddenly, from somewhere behind me I heard a loud bang.

“FREEZE!” An angry voice, distorted and artificially magnified came from the remains of the entrance door.

I turned around and to my horror I saw the armor-like uniforms of police, four ponies scanning the room with beams of light coming from flashlights. Attached to the barrels of guns.

Either it was Archivarius’ doing, or, most likely, the explosion was noticed from the outside. Anyway, it was a huge problem. I had an ID, a new body, but how was I going to explain nearly destroying the Archives? Not to mention that I still had the “magic contamination” of my crystals. Slowly, panic began to rise in me.

“Twilight, to the windows!” Del loudly whispered to me, while swooping over my head in the direction opposite to the policeponies. I had no choice but to follow her.

With the very first step I stepped on the half-broken gem on the floor, pulverizing it with a loud crunching noise. Instantly, the beams of light focused on me.

I remembered that those flashlights were attached to firearms a moment too late. I tried to dash behind the nearest fallen shelf, but I already heard loud bangs of guns fired. They were almost instantly followed by a tinking sound of bullets ricocheting from the metal racks and my body, joined by the explosions of concrete near my rear hooves.

Oh, right, I was metal now. But still, those plates weren’t very thick and there were gaps in them as well. I’d better not risk it.

“It’s a fucking tinhead, don’t waste the bullets you moron!” I heard behind me after the firing ceased. “Prepare the EMPs!”

The what? An Engineering Modification Proposal? An Experimentation Master Plan? Though, I didn’t really want to find out what it was. But I didn’t have a choice, it seemed, because just a few moments later a metal cylinder flew over my head and landed right in front of me. I stared at it for a blink of an eye before it came to me – explosives. Explosives! I tried to turn around and jump behind some cover, but, again, I was too late.

A wave of iridescent glow rapidly expanded from it, enveloping everything around, including me. For a single moment my vision was filled with static, just when the wave touched me. But that was it. Nothing followed that wave and I didn’t feel any change. Maybe it didn’t work? I wasn’t going to try it again, however. I madly dashed forward, to where Delight and Flower were supposedly waiting for me. Unfortunately, I not only couldn’t fly, but my magic accident had knocked some racks over, creating obstacles on my way. The crystals and their shards strewn all over the floor, threatening to make me slip, weren’t helping either.

Obviously, my movement didn’t go undetected.

“Why the fuck is it still moving?” an angered yell came from the same barking police officer. “After it!”

That made me speed up in my navigation through the wreck. To my luck, I all but crashed into Del and Flower after another turn.

“Hurry up!” Delight said before I could even open my mouth, and flew out the window, still holding Flower in her hooves.

How was I supposed to follow them? I looked out and realized that I was on the first floor actually, and the only reason Delight used her wings was to avoid the razor sharp glass shards still remaining in the window frame. Using Del’s advice, wasting no time, I smashed through them and landed on the pavement below, sending sparks flying from under my hooves.

I looked around – we were in the middle of a small street, a moderately lively one, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. I could clearly see the policeponies wading through the crowd from their vehicles not far away. We were being surrounded, and at any moment four more “law” enforcers would jump out right behind us.

We couldn’t run, we couldn’t fight back. What were our options? My mind was running. I could see panic in Del’s and Flower’s eyes – they didn’t seem to have any ideas either. “They”… The police were after me, not some pegasus and a filly. And one of them could fly…

“Del,” -I grabbed her by the shoulder- “take Flower and flee to the Edge!” I yelled at her.

Both hers and Flower’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

“But what about you!?” cried Flower, grabbing me in return.

I couldn’t be shot, well, not immediately. There was a chance those “EMP’s” weren’t actually working on me, and I might have an ability to cast magic again. For me it wasn’t a completely hopeless situation.

For them – it was a “death sentence or the Crystal Mines if they are lucky enough to choose”. And that was if the police didn’t just shoot them where they were.

“I will be alright,” I lied. Most likely I wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter. “I will meet you there. Now, go!”

Del, probably realising that she could be shot if she lingered any longer, gave me a nod and swooped Flower from her hooves, before she could say anything or have any second thought. They shot upwards and soon were lost amidst the reflections of the neon.

I was on my own again. That didn't end very well for me last time, though now I knew more and I had a new body. And maybe magic. Maybe. But right now I simply had to run.

I picked a direction which seemed to have fewer policeponies and began to pick up speed.

The thoroughfare wasn’t very crowded, so the ponies were yielding right out of my way. Some didn’t, and I knocked them back, thanks to my superior mass. One time I even thought I heard a crack of bones breaking, but I didn’t have time to check on them.

Suddenly a policepony appeared before me seemingly out of nowhere. I skidded in my tracks, not wishing to try my luck with ramming into them. They (or rather, he, judging by the square jaw poking from under the black visor of the helmet) sneered and instantly pulled a gun on me. A few shots went wide and I heard screams behind me – of pain and of panic. One bullet found its target and ricocheted from my breast plate with a spark – where my heart once was. Realizing that I was no pony, the officer pulled out a familiar cylinder and threw it in my direction, but I was on the run already.

I left him behind and resumed running down the street. That wasn’t a very good plan, frankly. I didn’t know where I was, so at this moment I could be running in the wrong direction. Even if I was running towards the Edge, sooner or later the police would catch up with me. And they would either bring bigger guns, like the one I saw on top of the hovering vehicle during the raid, or use who knows what else they had to bring me down. Not to mention that I couldn’t just go straight to the Edge from the city – the only way for me to cross the wall was underneath it. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to dive into the Tunnels again. And the Goddesses knew I didn’t, not in the slightest.

As I was dashing forward with all the delicacy and speed of a train, I was looking for the sight of alcoves, where hatches leading underground seemed to often be.

Yes! I could see one. I took a sharp turn and almost fell – I still needed to get used to that much weight. To my dismay, as I approached the trapdoor in the middle of the short deserted backstreet, I saw that it was not only closed, but crudely welded. There was no chance to pry it open with my bare hooves – there was nothing left to take hold of, and I didn’t know the power my pneumatic limbs held. Now wasn’t the time to test their resistance limits either. However, I had something else now, right?

I concentrated on my horn and the crystals inside me and felt the same circuit flowing through my body. Alright, no disrupting it this time. But what I was supposed to do? I focused and mentally tried to expand it onwards without breaking, like a huge loop of arcane energy. So far, nothing had exploded. I carefully guided the protuberance until it reached the hatch and to my joy I saw it being enveloped in the familiar pink glow.

“Stop right there, criminal scum!” a cry came from behind me and my concentration broke. I swirled around, my metal tail scraping the concrete, producing a rain of sparks.

“A socket fucker! With the fucking magic!” A policepony, a stallion with a bushy grey beard sounded genuinely surprised, but it didn’t last long. He pulled an “EMP” cylinder out of a belt with many other and threw it my way. “How do you like them apples?”

In the short and narrow passage there was no place to hide or even dodge that thing. I still tried to jump away, but my back pressed into the wall. With horror I watched the multicolored wave reach to me and wash over, causing a single moment of static, like the previous time. And nothing else happened. I still had no idea what goal EMP’s were supposed to achieve, but apparently it didn’t happen, because I saw the grin on the policepony’s muzzle morph into a slack jaw of amazement.

I didn’t waste a moment, though. The “EMP’s” didn’t work on me, but I had a suspicion that those police armors might have strengthening exoskeletons – a guess I didn’t want to have proven by this stallion tackling me to the ground. Also, from this distance he could simply shoot me in the joints or eyes. I didn’t want to find out how old age reflected on his sharpshooting abilities.

Still not used to my strange magical ability, I improvised – I hooked the slack of it around his hooves and yanked them out, making the stallion drop on the ground with a loud clatter.

I left the elder policepony behind and began to rocket down the street once again, looking to the sides in search of another indent in this concrete and glass maze. Soon enough another pocket appeared in my sight and I rushed to it as fast as my metal hooves would allow.

Deserted, narrow, short, with garbage containers. Nothing new, except the hatch wasn’t welded this time. Actually, it was once, but somepony undid it, leaving deep jagged marks. That didn’t matter right now. I threw it open and paused for a moment.

I looked up, at the cloudy sky and the bright neon signs. It wasn’t much, but neither the Tunnels nor the Edge had even that. I took a deep breath, steeled myself and began my descent.

Author's Notes:

Alrighty, so here goes chapter 7. Because of the holidays and whatnot it took a bit longer than usual.
Recently I've made a blog post dedicated to the progress of the story. In short words - chapters 8 and 9 are done and being edited. Chapter 10 is cooking, more than half-way done, actually. You may expect a few short stories in the nearest future.
Aside from that I don't have much too say, nothing new happened over the last week.

Once upon a time Gekasso made a blog dedicated to illustrations for Aftersound, but everything changed when the fire nation attacked. So, that Tumblr page is now dead and I've uploaded all the images here.

Aftersound Project Discord server -DO IT! Just do it! Don't let your dreams be dreams.

As usual, I appreciate any feedback, and if you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.
I hope you enjoyed reading this story so far.