Purple eyes watched as the file transfer ticked along at a snail’s pace, each file and folder carefully scanned by the Medusa security program Twilight had written herself the summer before. Maybe it was overly paranoid, but she had never trusted any ‘out of the box’ antivirus software, and Medusa had been her answer to that. Now she’d taken it a step further, altering the program further to be even more hyper vigilant, preventing outgoing transfer of files without the right protocols. Anyone who tried to hook into her system with a hardline would have their equipment last long enough to take it back home, and then the hidden commands would activate, sweeping through the offending system until it destroyed all the software, and left the hardware useless.

She’d been quite proud of the idea to have the protocols target first antivirus software, then the actual hardware controls that were the safety net for a system in regards to overheating and cooling fans. And in her test of an old laptop, it had proven exceptionally brutal and effective. The plastic case had actually warped from overheating.

Twilight rubbed her arms against the chill in her lab. “I’m…not being unreasonably paranoid, am I, Spike?”

Her dog raised his head from his doggy bed and made a querulous noise back. The lavender skinned girl leaned back in her chair. “It sounds silly, but I…I don't know. That nightmare, Sunset, all the things about my research that don't make sense, and even Principal Cinch’s questions at my last few updates…I can't stop now—I need to know what I’ve found…what this energy is and where it comes from...but…I’m scared, Spike. Sunset isn't telling me everything, and…I don't know. What is really going on?”

She glanced at the big cork board with all the printouts and data for her project, connected by colored string. So far, she had more questions than answers, and a bunch of half formed hypotheses about everything and very little hard proof. “Sunset’s school is involved somehow, but I can't exactly walk in there…maybe the woods behind it? Or another after-dark excursion?” Then she remembered another problem that tied into her other problems for the evening.

“And what do I do about Wallflower?”

Spike growled, rolling over slightly with a rumble. “She’s my friend, Spike,” Twilight sighed. “We’ve been friends since freshman year. She’s looked out for me. She was the one who discovered that Nebula was using me for a science grade, and she and Lyra got me away from the seniors that year too.” The dog gave a soft whine. “But lately…I don't know. She…she’s been assigned as an assistant by Principal Cinch, and I should be happy—she’s my friend, and we can spend time together at school, and I can trust she’s not trying to take my work for herself…but I don't know. Something about it feels…off. Wrong, somehow.”

Rubbing her face with her hands, she heard more than saw the dog get up and pad across the floor to lean against her leg. “And that's not even getting into what happened this past week with Wallflower meeting Sunset and how I handled it and what I said to Sunny—I hurt her so bad and I’m scared I messed up, Spike. Messed us up! And I don't understand why Wallflower doesn't like her…It’s…I trust Sunny, but I thought I trusted Wallflower…”

She hugged herself, shivering again. “What do I do, Spike?”

Spike looked up, then hopped into her lap to burrow his way into her arms. Twilight hugged him, fingers stroking through soft fur. “You're right…I’m getting worked up. I need to calm down.” She focused on the fur texture under her fingers, steady doggy heartbeat—still optimum for his age and size, she noted absently—and forced herself to breathe.

“It's two separate issues,” she acknowledged a few minutes later. Spike yipped in agreement. “Right…I need to tackle them one at a time…”

Twilight rested her chin on top of Spike’s head. “…this is a lot harder when the person I’d normally have helping sort through this kind of thing is the person I fought with,” she complained. The dog huffed reproachfully, and a small giggle escaped. “It's not that you're not my most amazing number one assistant, Spike and you're a great listener, but I need someone who can…understand and explain things I don't understand.”

Her pet’s eyes watched her for a minute, then he settled with a heavy sigh. “I know,” she laughed. “It makes me wish you could talk—that would make things so much easier.” Fingers scratched behind his ear. “What could I—” Twilight froze, thinking back to how her subconscious had coached her through reading her parents' expressions. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

Furrowing her brows, she focused on the way her subconscious had fashioned a mental Sunset, from the battered leather jacket and boots with the thick but sturdy heel, and imagined her standing nearby, arms crossed and with that lopsided smile that made Twilight feel good inside.

One mental facsimile of Sunset Shimmer, check!

“I need advice. A sounding board. Starting with this whole Wallflower and Sunset disaster…” She waited to see if the obvious answer from the part of her subconscious that had adopted Sunset’s attitude would respond the way her girlfriend would.

Silence, leaving the teen sitting their long enough that Spike started licking her arm and whining. “Why is this so hard when I’m actually trying to do it?” Twilight asked him. The canine screwed up his muzzle in pure puppyish confusion. “You're right again—I just need to try harder.”

Twilight took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and focused on the problem, trying to project how she thought Sunset would respond. The tilt of her head, the raised eyebrow, the crooked grin, even the way she’d bump shoulders with Twilight and tease her…but none of it seemed to work to do anything other than threaten to give her a headache. She gave up when it actually felt like she strained a muscle in her brain—impossible, she knew, but that was the only analogy she had for the strange, somewhat uncomfortable twisting sensation in her skull.

“I wish I could just talk to Sunset about this,” she complained, rubbing her temples.

“Given the subject material, I would advise waiting as your father suggested.”

She almost fell out of her chair, caught completely by surprise when Sunset’s voice was proffered up by her subconscious. “It worked?”

The mental picture she had of Sunset did raise an eyebrow as she would imagine Sunset would. “If you mean your visualization technique, then it would seem so, Twilight.”

Wincing, the dark haired girl frowned. “Apparently,” she noted to Spike, “I didn't do a very good job. My attempt to actively recreate Sunset in my mind has resulted in a somewhat formal version.” Spike sneezed in then wiggled until she let him jump down.

“That might have something to do with the events on your mind,” Mental-Sunset commented.

That was a very valid point, Twilight decided. “I…probably. I screwed up, and Sunset is upset. I’m giving her space until she’s ready to talk, and trying to work through this on my own. It's…hard.” She could see the amber skinned hand in her mind now, making a ‘go on’ gesture. “Wallflower…presented a version of events from her perspective that painted Sunset as…not the friendliest…and I believed it. At the time, it made some sense to me—Sunset is still learning the ins and outs of friendship, and I haven't observed her interacting with many people in a personal setting outside my family and myself.”

A familiar itch started between her shoulder blades and she hopped to her feet to start pacing. “I assumed, I now believe incorrectly, that the solution was to try again, for an event that lasted longer than ten minutes, since Wallflower left early from our last outing. Today, Sunset presented me with an opposing view: that Wallflower was actively hostile and unpleasant during the few minutes I left them alone together, which led to a fight.”

She shook her head. “Now, after talking to my parents…things make less sense. Not only was Wallflower extremely negative in her recount, but she insinuated heavily that she believes Sunset has ulterior motives for our friendship. A continuation of her attitude from the day I suggested the meeting—something that upset me at the time, because she persisted with a very demanding and invasive…interrogation…about Sunset, while trying to suggest that Sunset was…manipulating and using me.”

“And that is the part that does not make sense?” Mental-Sunset shifted her weight to her back foot as she followed Twilight’s pacing.

Twilight paused as she got to where Spike was sitting, looking up at her, ears akimbo. “Yes and no…what bothers me is that it really made me angry when it first happened, before they met—angry enough that I snapped at Wallflower. Yet after the failed outing, I…didn't feel that same anger or annoyance. It…” She frowned. “…for some reason it seemed reasonable that she would have concerns about someone she didn't really know, who hadn't made the best impression.” She pivoted on her heel to resume her pacing. “Looking back…it almost feels like I was someone else in that conversation…”

Her mental creation made a thoughtful sound. “Maybe there is a reason for that, Twilight. The mind is a curious thing…” There was something...strange…about the way her mind was presenting Mental-Sunset’s tone to her. “You can instantly recognize one of your own, even at an age far too young to know anything else, instinctively recoiling from that which is not what it appears to be…” Blue-green eyes for a moment felt like they were burning into her mind’s eye, leaving her feeling as if she was both numb and frozen. “That recognition works just as well when such a thing intrudes into the very sanctity of your mind…”

Spike let out a low growl, his hackles bristling as he stared at Twilight. Her control over her visualized Sunset wavered. “W-what?”

As the figure began to fade from her perception with her loss of focus, one final thought leaked through. “If it felt like it was not you…then maybe it was not you…at least, not entirely…”

Concentration shot, Twilight sank shakily into her chair again, her body trembling all over. Spike shook himself, collar jingling, and scampered over to her, whining and pawing her leg. She ignored him for the moment, trying to rub warmth back into her arms and regain her composure. “…what was that?” the dark haired girl finally whispered.

That had been nothing like the other times her mind had conjured up a version of her girlfriend. All those other times, it had really felt like talking to Sunset. This time it hadn't even sounded like her. It was too…detached. Clinical even, and far too formal. More than that…it felt…washed out. Like it was lacking in some vital piece. The real Sunset was as vibrant as her hair, full of passion and vitality that translated into every part of her person. She was always in motion, even when standing still, and even something as normal and passive as breathing carried with it some of the redhead’s intense energy.

What she couldn’t figure out is why it worked when she wasn't trying, and failed when she was. Not to mention that she was starting to grow concerned about her own mental health—especially if her subconscious was creating mental constructs whose entire purpose seemed to be to warn her that she wasn't herself lately.

“…Could it be from stress?” she asked Spike worriedly.

He yipped and tugged on her pants leg, trying to pull her towards the door. Twilight rubbed her face. “…you're right. I need to go inside…maybe this will make sense after I rest. At the very least…I think I need to mention this to Dr. Soft-spoken next week at our session. If my stress levels are so high my body is starting to generate hallucinations and not just visualizations to help me process behaviors, then I need to change how I’m handling that stress….” The teen turned back to her computer to see the file transfer had finished. “Let me finish this and shut everything down, Spike, and we’ll go inside. I think I want a hot drink to warm up.”

A few minutes later saw her firmly ensconced at the kitchen table in an abandoned main floor, pouring a mug of hot cocoa that was nowhere near as good as the cocoa her mother could make. It would do for what she wanted though—chasing away the cold that felt like it had taken up residence in her core. Holding the mug in shaky hands, she let the heat seep into her, attempting to plan her next moves.

She had given Sunset a few hours of solitude, and while she would keep to her promise to her father, Twilight would check in when she went upstairs. At the very least, she would offer the beginnings of an apology before bed. As for the rest….

Wallflower was her friend. They'd known each other for years, and she was the only friend Twilight had left at school; for those reasons, she didn't want to sever the friendship over this…but she would start paying more attention to the other girl’s words and actions. Maybe even discuss them with Cady or her parents if she couldn't figure them out on her own. Clearly there was more going on than she realized, and while she didn't want to lose her friend…she was willing to admit to herself that Sunset mattered a great deal more to her than Wallflower did. Perhaps she’d also write to both Moondancer and Lyra for their advice—she had Lyra’s email address, and she owed Moondancer a few letters anyway. It was possible one of them could shed light on Wallflower’s strange behavior.

Her precautions about her project would remain. In fact, she would step them up, she decided, during the hours that Wallflower was in her actual classes, so the other teen would be none the wiser about the added layers of security. The niggling, wary sense of potential danger still persisted, and she wasn't sure where the source was—though a part of her still feared it had something to do with Sunset’s unnamed former guardian. Better to only trust herself with the full access to the data from her research.

Sipping her cocoa, she tried to figure out what interest the energy might have to non-scientific minds. The obvious was the energy output—whatever source the energy had, it could generate large amounts under unknown conditions. If those conditions could be detailed and the energy harnessed, it would be at least on par with the energy generated by large scale power plants or fields of solar panels…in what she suspected was a much smaller object than any other power source she could think of. If it was something that could be replicated easily, that could mean a nearly infinite source of energy for the person who did it. It would completely change life for the beneficiaries of that power.

The other potential she saw was potential weaponization. Show a human anything powerful or energetic and they’d try to find a way to use it to kill someone else. So far nothing suggested the energy emissions or residue were hazardous, though she was starting to wonder if repeated exposure meant developing some kind of sensitivity to it. That would explain the pattern she’d noticed of being agitated or suffering nightmares in or around large spikes of the energy. Perhaps it acted the same way extremely high concentrations of electromagnetic fields in unshielded areas could supposedly trigger paranoia, whispers, and the feeling of being watched in individuals with a hypersensitivity to it…

Twilight sighed, setting her now empty mug in the sink. She lacked enough detailed data on the phenomenon to determine if it had any medical or communications applications, though the greenery she’d found outside the Canterlot High greenhouse suggested potential mutative properties to flora. The samples she had taken didn't match any known species in her preliminary investigation, though Wallflower was due to look them over that week. She was more familiar with botanicals, and it was part of what Principal Cinch had assigned her to do.

A part of her stewed in resentment and irritation that part of her project was now in the hands of someone else against her will, even if that person was her friend… It was out of her control, and there was nothing to do now but make the best of it. At least it was a friend and not a stranger, or worse, someone who wanted to make her life miserable.

The dark haired girl climbed the stairs, more than ready to change into her pajamas and climb under the thick, warm blankets on her bed. She still wanted to check in with her girlfriend—Twilight would be lying if she said she wasn't hopeful to at least apologize to Sunset so that she wouldn't feel awkward or guilty about curling up close to the redhead for extra warmth. Sunset could chase the cold away like nothing else—she was practically a space heater, which was deliciously wonderful as far as Twilight was concerned, since she got cold fairly easily.

Disappointment and worry flared when she nudged her bedroom door open to find the space dark, empty, and cold. Sunset wasn't there…but she was still at the house; a quick look out her bedroom window confirmed the presence of her bike in the driveway. Twilight frowned as she changed into her pajamas, eliminating places Sunset was not. She wasn't in the bathroom, or on the main floor, unless she’d been hiding in either her mother’s study or her father’s in-home office. That suggested she was in the bedroom Twilight’s parents had given her.

Once changed, Twilight slipped out of her room to the door a little further down the hall. She rapped on it gently, though the lack of light under the door made her wonder if Sunset had already laid down for the night. “….Sunset?” she called after a minute, knocking a little louder. When no answer came, she tried to turn the knob, at least wanting to peek in and make sure Sunset was okay…

Only to find it locked.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

*sips cocoa*

Twilight is really reaping what she's sown tonight, isnt she?

Oh. And the Medusa security system is a nod to another fanfiction...in another fandom from long ago. Specifically a series for the Real Adventures of Jonny Quest, more specifically from the story...Firezone, I believe (the series had like 15 stories, most of which were over 100k in length). Where Jonny and Hadji coded a virus into a download of the QuestWorld software that was so aggressive and nasty it completely fragged the hardware beyond salvaging. I felt it an appropriate nod, given Sparky is basically like a young Dr. Quest--a ridiculously smart and also fairly good natured person who builds science and tech far too advanced for the world around them.

And yes, I know that electromagnetic hypersensitivity is an unfounded thing in the real world with no proven links between symptoms and EMF, but this is my story, so I'm making it a rare but not entirely debunked thing, because it plays into magic as energy in a way I like.