//------------------------------// // Purpose // Story: Void Trials 2: Horizon // by Obsi //------------------------------// “Toasty!” Shetland shouted the words, yet she barely heard them herself, drowned out by the roaring winds. She tried to raise a leg and a scream escaped her, pain spiking through her side, but still she extended her hoof, touching Toasty’s face. The robot jerked away and Shetland saw sparks flying out from where her ears should have been. Could she even hear her? Was she saying something?  Everything was drowned out by the howling wind as it grasped at her, threatening to pull her away. Toasty’s head jerked again. Was she trying to point her to something? Shetland swallowed. Everything hurt, yet she forced her body to obey as she scooted closer to Toasty. “You’ll be safe.” she whispered as she pulled at her limp body, slowly heaving the robot onto her back. Then, she took a deep breath, readying herself for the pain as she stood up, leaning against the storm. Toasty’s body bore down on her back like a sack of cement, while the storm threatened to push her over, but she managed to stand against both. Careful not to step on her hindleg, she strained against everything holding her down as she took a step. Then another. And another. I can’t give up, she repeated in her mind, using the mantra to ward against the growing weakness in her body. Can’t give up, can’t give her up. Even then, her steps soon grew shaky and she stumbled as a particular strong gust almost knocked her to the ground. She clenched her teeth and tasted blood. If she fell, she knew she would not get up again. Don’t let her down, she desperately thought, but there was no more strength to draw upon. Her legs buckled as she took a few final steps forward. But then, for the first time in what could have been eternity, something came from the dark. It was a rough shape, but she didn’t care what it was, her mind only saw it as one: cover. She would survive. Toasty would survive! The knowledge reenergized her weak legs, letting her take the last stumbling steps before she collapsed in what was the entrance to a cave. The wind was gone, but so was her strength. All that remained was relief. And agony. It may have been the only thing that stopped her from fainting that moment, the pulsating pain in her limbs that continued animating her to slip Toasty off her back and slide into a more comfortable position. Her breath was fast, her head heavy. Glimmers appeared in her vision and she turned her head, looking for the fire, Yet none was anywhere. She slid to her side, but there was something in the way, something that wouldn’t allow her to lie comfortably. Stupid air bottles, she thought numbly. Then lightning struck and she shot up. Air! Grasping the bottle, she fumbled at her armor, fighting her own dizziness as she opened the compartment and swapped out the bottles. The essences of life itself flooded her body. Her pain eased, even her sight changed, like she had put on glasses. She took another deep breath and rejoiced as it invigorated her. The rushing wind just outside the cave barely registered at that moment as she relished in the simple joy of air while her body slowly relaxed. But as the pain subsided, her thoughts became clearer, turning her attention to the broken body of Toasty. In the storm, Shetland had barely been able to make out her head, but now, that she could see the full extent of the damage, bile was rising up her throat. Toasty had been… bludgeoned, there was no other way to explain the massive dents all over her chassis. Her ears had been torn off the body, leaving ruptured cables hanging freely. And the visor was no more than glass shards, leaving one light to shine way-too-brightly without the dark glass dampening it. A shudder went through Shetland’s body. “Toasty?” she whispered. There was no reaction. Of course, Shetland’s wet eyes darted over the robot’s head again. She’s deaf without her ears. Unable to look away she took notice of the broken legs, the machinery brought to air- Oh Celestia, I just hope she can’t feel pain. she swallowed, worry eating away at her thoughts as they spiraled out of control. She could be dying right now and I can’t do a thing! Is she bleeding? Is there a robot equivalent of that? With a loud cry, she forced her eyes away. There was no time to cry, she had to do whatever she could! She stood up. Her limbs felt like they’d been tenderized by a dozen griffon cooks, yet she pushed past the pain, stepping as close to the tunnel’s exit as she dared. The storm howled like a herd of hungry windigoes, the dust it carried still allowing no more than a few feet of visibility. When she felt the first grasps of the storm push and pull, she lowered herself to the ground. “Build connection to Coltville River.” Shetland spoke into her helmet. The beeping it emitted was almost suffocated by the storm’s ferocity, and she had to retreat a tiny bit further into the cave just to properly hear as her helmet attempted to connect with anything. The beeping continued unfazed and stalwartly, even while Shetland’s teeth ground more with every second that passed. “Here’s Shetland!” she shouted into her helmet as soon as the beeping stopped, even as it rang in her own ears. “I’m stuck in a cave, North-North-West of Coltville, exact coordinates unknown, I have a wounded at my side, send immediate assistance!” She took no breath while shouting all that, gasping for air just afterwards. The sound of her own breathing sounded unusually loudly as she waited for the confirming beep of her helmet sending out her cry. And waited. “Build… connection?” she muttered, cringing as the beeping began anew, a cold shudder running down her spine. What she’d mistaken for a connection was her helmet giving up. She took a shivering breath, the air was cold. The second attempt also resulted in nothing. So did the third. Something- something about this storm stopped or intercepted her signals. Magnetism? It didn’t matter. Shetland took a stunned step back into the cave. She swallowed, only aggravating her dry throat. For as long as the storm lasted, they were stuck here, unable to even call for help. She slumped down next to Toasty, biting her lip as she ran an armored hoof over her hull. “Hold out, please.” she said, her voice shivering. “Hold out, I’ll get help, eventually.” she just had to wait and hope her friend’s condition wouldn’t get worse. Or… her breath stopped. Her own… her eyes fell on the empty air bottle she’d thrown on the ground. Air. Her lower jaw shivered as she realized she only had the current, and two more bottles left. Five hours, closer to four, maybe? The storm showed no signs of weakening, who knew how long it could go on? How long could she? Shetland gasped and immediately smacked her own helmet. Calm! She had to be calm, she was wasting air. With all her willpower, she calmed her breathing. One breath. Immediately, her throat burned to take another, but she kept her mouth shut. Slowly, she slid to the ground, assuming as relaxed a position as she could. Twenty seconds. She took another breath, but cut herself off before siphoning off too much. Twenty seconds. She counted slowly, drawing out every number for as long as her lungs allowed her. Was it enough? Her head began to spin. How many breaths were left? Was thirty seconds a better number? How could she know? Soon, numbness took place in her limbs, her head, everything besides her lungs which were clamped up like an oyster.  Just one breath, it demanded. The urge was overwhelming and she even opened her mouth as her brain intercepted. No. You can’t. She forced her eyes to the silent form of her friend. Her chest grew tight, not just because of her struggle for air. The one remaining light in those eyes had gone out. Shetland took one staggered breath. It did not have to mean… death. She couldn’t assume that, she couldn’t! There was still a chance… This is your fault. “No…” Shetland whispered, tears overwhelming her attempts to hold them back. “I tried to save you.” You drove her away. It is because of you that she is here. Biting her lip, she tried to refute the voice, but the words wouldn’t come to her lips. Nor could she do anything to stop her tears from flowing, smearing her coat and her helmet. You deserve this. “It shouldn’t be about me!” she cried in between hiccups. “It shouldn’t be about what I deserve, she… she doesn’t deserve to die!” And yet, the voice said, and Shetland’s eyes widened as her expression changed to one of disbelief. I did? “No…” Shetland whispered breathlessly as the form towered over Toasty. Larger, even more than in life, this robot glared at Shetland, stealing the breath out of her lungs. “You’re dead.” her lips formed silently. You would know, Mellow said darkly. It is thanks to you, after all. “You’re not real.” Shetland muttered. Funny that you still think of me like that, he growled. But I shouldn’t be surprised. I never was real to you. Just a random robot you found when you were all alone. Something you wouldn’t have to feel bad about using and throwing away. He looked down at the open machinery of Toasty. And she- she is just like me. “NO!” Shetland shouted, struggling to get on her hooves, yet they felt so numb that she promptly face planted.”I haven’t done anything!” But it is your fault that she is out here like this. Color drained from her face. “It… it was her own choice to go.” Of course it was. Like it was mine to try and help you. he chuckled mirthlessly. I did not have to, I could have stayed behind and waited for rescue while you choked to death. But I stood up, I tried to save you, and how did you pay me back? He drew closer, until his visor filled all of Shetland’s vision. With betrayal and murder. Shetland jerked away, but only succeeded in pressing herself into the cave wall. You don’t even deny it. Mellow said, averting his gaze toward Toasty. “Please no…” Shetland pleaded weakly, her eyes wide open as she openly wept. “Please don’t take her too… please, I-I can’t lose anyone else.” What are you pleading for? Mellow asked bemusedly. I don’t hold her life in my hooves. You did. At these words, Shetland buckled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably as she grasped one of Toasty’s legs, pressing it to her chest like a ripped teddy bear. It was all she could do to relieve the unbearable strain in her heart. -------- Had she lost consciousness? She could not recall, until a low humming sound caught her attention. She let go of the leg, looking around for the source. It seemed to come from deeper within the cave. Wait! Her head shot up. If she could hear the noise then-  she turned, stumbling out of the tunnel on sore legs. The early sun lit up the area and Shetland was never more glad to look out into the boring, dusty plains. “Connect to Coltville!” she screamed into her helmet, hope mixing with tenseness as it gave a couple of beeps. “Coltiville maneframe.” The automated response sent waves of relief through her body. She let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Cadet Shetland and robot lost in cave to Northwest, exact coordinates unknown. Need immediate extraction and emergency repairs.” she rattled off in a single breath, gasping for air afterwards. “Understood,” The mainframe passively responded. “Your request will be forwarded.” With that, the connection ended and Shetland dropped back, letting go of a big sigh. Then she caught herself, checking her oxygen status in her helmet’s display. It was at 54%. She looked around and her suspicion was confirmed by a second empty bottle on the ground. Had she exchanged it without remembering? Or maybe- she glanced to Toasty, but she was still… Shetland swallowed, sinking down beside her friend. “Rescue is imminent,” she whispered. “You will make it through this.” Brightness pierced through Shetland’s eyes, forcing her to close them again. She raised a limb above her face, wincing at the spike of pain in her sore body. Still, she shielded her eyes enough so they could slowly get used to the light. “Who-” She smacked her dry lips, coating them with her tongue before she asked: “Who in Tartarus puts the light right above a hospital bed?” As she sat up, a powerful headache surged up and she almost dropped again. Her throat was dry, and she looked around for anypony to ask for water. She was alone, but there was a bottle right beside her bed, enough to quench her thirst for now. The room was remarkably small, and so was the bed. From her new position, she noticed that her hind legs were reaching over the short bed, supported by a box with a rug on top. In fact, the room looked less like a hospital and more like the rooms in school where someone would get first aid after an ugly, but not-too-severe accident. Just one other bed stood empty beside her. Magenta had found them, Shetland recalled through her hazy memory, whether from the lack of air back then or the sedative after, she couldn’t tell. But she had been brought straight to a doctor, while Toasty- Toasty! Her head shot up, leading to a spike in her headache. She took it with a groan, rolling to the side to set her sore hooves on the ground. However, her bad hindleg immediately buckled, sending her tumbling to the side, cursing loudly from surprise and pain. But while her attempts at standing showed no success, it certainly did the trick in alarming ponies to her waking, as the door audibly swung open and the tribble of hooves right before they grasped her side, helping her get upright. “Miss Sparkle,” the pony huffed, his voice strained by the effort; a unicorn Shetland might have found cute under different circumstances. “Are you… okay?” he asked when she stood securely on three legs, her hindleg raised so just the tip of her hoof touched the ground. “I’m fine,” she responded. “‘Cept that everything hurts.” Letting out a groan, she carefully stretched her back, resulting in a pop loud enough to shake both the stallion and herself. “By Celestia’s hot buns, for a moment I thought I paralyzed myself...” “Miss,” The stallion helplessly waved his hooves, motioning to the bed. “If you would please?” “How’s Toasty?” she asked, ignoring his gestures. “Who?” “Toasty!” she exclaimed, startling the stallion with her outburst. “The robot I came back with, how is she?” “S-she’s probably being repaired, I don’t know anything else.” he said, his voice a bit higher. “Then I’ll see for myself.” She limped towards the door, growling as he blocked her way. “You can’t!” “We’ll see about that.” Sse grumbled, casually pushing him to the side with one hoof, though she almost stumbled with only two good hooves to rely on. “You shouldn’t move with your injuries!” he exclaimed. Then, as that showed no effect, he decided to change his strategy. “And waltzing in during a repair could be disastrous. It would be like walking in on surgery!” Shetland halted, her hoof resting on the door handle. “I’m going to make a call.” she said after a while. “Miss, you just woke up-” “I’ll be careful,” she shot a look back. “I’m not made of glass. And frankly, I need a distraction or I’ll go crazy and there’s no way I can do that when I’m just lying in bed.” ------ The room was apparently just at the back of one of the greenhouses. Less than ten minutes away from the mainframe, even as slow as she was now. Still, even on that short trek, she had to resist the temptation to both continue onwards and not divert towards where Toasty would be. Her legs stung with every step and her head was laden with worry, too much to notice the brightness of the day or the warm sunshine on her back. Each settlement on Horizon had a mainframe: a computer system that acted as the network for each local device. However, they were not interconnected. If an exchange of data was truly necessary, a storage device would be created and physically carried to the network in question. While this meant that networks were only local and could not interact with one another, devices that could were, for simplicity's sake, kept in the same area. The video transmitter was a monitor hefted on four extendable stilts and a pair of antennae on top, though right now she had set it low to the dusty ground. It had taken a fair share of nice asking and an angry glare, but her request to set it up outside had eventually been granted. Why she wanted it, she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe because of the warm sun, even if it reflected on the screen. Maybe lying on her side was more comfortable than a seat. Or maybe, she just wanted some privacy for this call. “Shetty? Is that you? Are you okay?” Twilight asked. Her normally-royal appearance was wracked with bags under her eyes from a decidedly improper lack of sleep. Her mane was disheveled, even the occasional magical wave doing little to make it presentable. She squinted her eyes. It appeared that the sunlight made it hard for her to see as well. Shetland carefully shifted herself so her own shadow would cover the screen. “It’s me, mom.” she affirmed the nervous alicorn. “I’m fine. Things hurt,” she added as her mother looked about ready to protest. “But I’m okay now, I’m taking it easy and stuff.” she sighed, anticipation and fear equally holding her insides in a tight grip. “Mom?” “Yes?” Twilight asked, her daughter’s serious tone stopping any lecture she might have prepared. “Do you know if Toasty-?” Shetland swallowed and licked her dry lips. “I-I haven’t been able to see her, she’s in repairs, d-do you know if she’s-” “She will be fine.” Did a masseuse just take up shop in her chest? There was no other way Shetland could explain just how many tense muscles suddenly relaxed at once. She let go of her breath, tapping the warm ground with a hoof. Toasty would be fine. The confirmation spread through her brain like wildfire, lighting up the dark dungeons her thoughts had been residing in and throwing them a party. Yet still, the ecstasy didn’t hold for long. “She looked horrible when I found her, mom. How can she be fine after that?” The sound as Twilight drew breath through her teeth confirmed Shetland’s suspicion. “Well,” Twilight slowly said, “While her data core is undamaged, almost miraculously so, I’ve heard, the rest of her body is in pretty bad shape.” “That… means?” Shetland bit her lip. “Nothing major.” Twilight shook her head. “She’s a robot, as long as her software is fine, she will be too.” She gave Shetland a stern look. “Though she is lucky that you were stupid enough to go after her. On a hunch, I might add.” “It was more than just a hunch!” Shetland exclaimed. “And if I hadn’t, she would-” she shook her head. “I couldn’t have waited, I had to save her and I would do it again, Mom, whether it's dangerous or not!” With fire in her eyes, she glared at the screen, anticipating Twilight’s angry retort. But to her surprise, her mother didn’t look angry. In fact, if her eyes didn’t deceive her, there was a smile on Twilight’s lips. “I know. And to be honest, as foolish as it was, I would have done the same.” Twilight admitted, embracing Shetland with a warm look. “I’m proud of you.” Shetland coughed, uncertain what to say as her cheeks heated up. “I-I-” she gasped for a breath. “I had to.” She repeated lamely. “And it is very good that you did.” Twilight said, her smile vanishing as her features once again adopted a sober look. “Her case was not the only one, Shetty,” she professed. “Two other robots have also disappeared during the storm. Without a trace, in their cases.” “How?” Shetland’s eyes narrowed and a cold feeling trickled down her back. She sat up, not minding the dust scraping at her scarred side. “We don’t know.” Twilight shook her head. “There didn’t seem to be a fight, they seem to have gone into the storm of their volition. Whether it was their own volition to not return-” “It wasn’t,” Shetland clenched her jaw. “Toasty wasn’t damaged by the storm. Something, or someone beat her with some kind of blunt weapon.” “Are you sure?” “Dead sure.” Shetland said sternly. “You…” Twilight hesitated. “I do not want you to run off to find the perpetrator, Shetty-” “I won’t,” Shetland’s ear flicked and her frown deepened. “I’ll stay with Toasty. I just…” she sighed. “I just wish I could see her.” “You will.” Twilight assured her. She looked relieved to know that Shetland wasn’t going to do something stupid. “And don’t worry, the workshop is under watch, she won’t be attacked right now.” Her lips formed into a smile. “Nor will she in the future, not with you as her guardian.” Shetland’s eyes fell to the ground. Thoughts bubbled up, ones she’d been trying to suppress, but with the recent incident… it’d become even harder. “I-” she stuttered. “I-I don’t think I’m the right pony, mom.” Twilight’s head tilted. “Why would you say that?” “Because…” Shetland swallowed, the meeting in that cave clear in her mind. “I couldn’t protect her before, mom. You- you don’t know everything, she wouldn’t even have gone without me if I hadn’t screwed up!” she opened her mouth, but even as words teased her tongue, she found herself unable to let out anything more. There was silence as Twilight observed her daughter through the screen. “Shetland.” she finally, calmly, said. “It’s true I don’t know everything. And, I know there is something you are not telling me.”  Shetland flinched at that, but her mother simply continued. “But even if you screwed up before, you didn’t now. You risked your life going after her, even though it was really, titanically, immeasurably stupid.” her gaze softened. “I don’t think she could ask for a more devoted protector, Shetty. And… I think it’s also good for you. You need somepony to protect.” Shetland’s mind blanched. “What… what do you mean?” But Twilight merely smiled. “Keep her safe. Though I don’t think I need to tell you.” Shetland’s eyes widened as she saw her mother's horn light up. With anger sparking in her chest, she shouted: “Mom, tell me what you meant!” But the screen had already gone dark. Faintly, then louder and louder, a mighty groan emanated from Shetland. Just like her mother, speaking in riddles, dangling answers right in front of her nose just to pull them away at the last second. Just like Queen Twinkle. She let out an infuriated chuckle. Yes, indeed, who would think that the princess of friendship could be so similar to a queen of two-timing and mind-fuckery? Her body ached, dust stinging her already-sore side as she slowly stood up. It wasn’t actually complicated, she mused. “You need somepony to protect.” she muttered, a frown digging into her features. She needed the validation that she could do it? Confirmation that she wasn’t incompetent after losing all her friends?! Gritting her teeth, she began to tramp on forward, paying no mind to the direction. Her hooves fell heavy and loud, straining her sore legs, yet she paid the pain no mind either. Her mind fell into a maelstrom, falling deeper into darkness with every moment. And as she fell, memories filled her head, ones she would struggle to forget even if they weren’t so recent. I never was real to you, the ghostly apparition of Mellow had said. Something to use and throw away. Was Toasty even real to her? Was the robot just a tool for her to validate herself? Shetland grit her teeth, tasting blood on her tongue. Would she even care about her if her friends were still alive? Her face felt hot and she pressed it against a wall, wishing her head was just a surface of flat skin, unable to show any emotion. She was a terrible guardian. She’d proven that much. Everypony she’d tried to protect had died. But no…  The voice quietly, almost impossible to hear, whispered in her ear. You haven’t actually tried, now have you? “Go away.” Shetland said with a husky voice, trying her hardest not to sob. As you wish, he cackled. I’m just here to remind you of what you are. “A monster.” Shetland whispered. Then she smacked her hoof to her own mouth so hard that her teeth hurt. A shiver went through her body as her thoughts broke down, unable to do more than repeat that one word. She, Shetland, was a- “Dreamy hunk of meat blocking the way!” A voice, seemingly far away, but familiar, shouted. Magenta, the pegasus, was poking her hoof into Shetland’s knee, urging her to move away from an exit she’d partially blocked, allowing a duo of robots to leave the greenhouse. And throw dirty looks at the overgrown earth pony. A chuckle attracted her attention back to Magenta, who regarded her with amusement in her eyes. “You know, there are a lot of words I’d describe you with. Big, strong, scary, bit of an ass… and now I can add ditzy dreamer to the list.” “Uhuh.” Shetland muttered. She could add a few more herself. None of them were flattering. Maybe it was apparent in her look, because Magenta’s expression shifted to one of worry. “Not feeling so well, huh? Can I maybe help?” Shetland opened her mouth to say there was nothing that could be done- when she remembered that there absolutely was something. “Have you been in the workshop today?” “Yeah, in my own,” she replied. “I work with vehicles, not robots. But,” she interrupted Shetland’s long sigh, “I know why you ask. And I happen to know that your robot friend is fine. Old Scallow’s been asking me for some spare parts for her.” Good news, right? Yet, it still couldn’t bring a smile to Shetand’s face. It just didn’t feel real, like they were just saying it to placate her. The stupid thought nagged at her, refusing to be brushed off, no matter what the logical part of her brain said. “He said he’ll probably be done with her about two hours from now.” Magenta said slowly, in response to Shetland’s protracted silence. The larger mare raised her head, staring at the sky. The bright afternoon sun jabbed painfully at her eyes, forcing her to close them. “Aren’t you happy?” Confusion rang in Magentas voice. “Is it too long or-” “No,” Shetland muttered. “I just…” She bit her lip. “I’m not sure I should meet her.” “Why?” Now the pegasus’s tone changed to full bewilderment. “Aren’t you friends?” As her question was met with silence, she spread her wings, a hoof reaching out to pull at Shetland’s leg. “Okay, no more silent treatment, you’re coming with me and you’re gonna tell me what your problem is!” She could have easily resisted. Heck, she could have kept still even if half a dozen Magentas had tried to move her, but something in the pegasus’s stern tone made Shetland’s legs move like they had a mind of their own. For a few minutes, Magenta led her away from the bustling farmponies so they could speak in privacy. Her goal seemed to be an outlying outhouse, one side covered by a metal sheet, protecting it from the frequent storms.  “So,” Magenta said, perching on top of the outhouse and staring down at Shetland like she was a criminal about to give a confession. “What’s the issue? Why don’t you want to see Toasty?” Shetland bit her lip. An inner voice told her to leave. She shot a glare up at the pegasus. She had no right to make her speak, especially if she didn’t want to. Yet, for some reason, her mouth moved, answering truthfully: “I do want to. But I shouldn’t.” “But why?” Magenta asked, tapping her hooves against the outhouse in exasperation. “Because…” Shetland’s voice broke and she sighed. “Because I’m a terrible pony, Magna. Because it’s my fault she was in danger in the first place! Because my friends die and I’m too selfish to stop it!” And with that, the floodgates opened. Even if Shetland wanted, she couldn’t have stopped the torrent of words streaming out of her. She spoke about the attack on the Esseless, how it was her own weakness that led to her friends’ deaths and others. How she continued to blame herself, about her nightmares. She even told Magenta about the voice of Mellow that still haunted her, though she managed to withhold the exact circumstances of his death. She couldn’t stop, not even slow down the words that broke out of her like prisoners from Tartarus. But, even though her whole body shook from the horrible memories and the changing expressions on Magenta’s face pained her, there was an odd relief, pushing her to confide with the mare. Lastly, she came to Toasty. The robot that, in Shetlands word’s, deserved somepony better as a friend. When she came to an end, her mouth was dry and she was panting like she’d finished a marathon. Then, she slowly raised her head, trying to meet the eyes of the pegasus who clearly needed some more time to make sense of everything she’d just been told. “Wow, Shetland.” she finally said with a whistle. “You have issues.” Shetland winced. “Don’t tell me what I already know.” “And… you haven’t told this to anypony else? Not even your mom?” With a snort, Shetland shook her head. “She’d just… say I’m stupid.” Magenta observed her pointedly. “Does she say you are stupid, or does she make you feel like it?” She says so! Shetland railed in her thoughts. Just in their last conversation. But then, she had called her actions stupid, not her feelings. In fact, Twilight herself had agreed with them. Shetland closed her eyes, unwilling to see the pegasus’s face. And yet, Magenta's whistle told her that the pegasus had gotten exactly the answer she wanted. “Do you really think she’d just dismiss what you say?” “She wouldn’t understand.” Shetland replied. “And instead you told me, a pony you met a couple days ago? I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or sympathetic, but I’m leaning towards the latter.” Shetland muttered something unintelligible in response. With a flap of her wings, Magenta jumped down from the outhouse, placing a hoof on each of Shetland’s shoulders as she fluttered to eye-level. “Tell her. She can’t exactly understand you if you always keep quiet about your feelings, after all.” “I guess.” Shetland said without meeting her eyes. The logic of those words was sound, and yet, it stung, as some part of her illogically shouted that Twilight was her mother and should just... get her regardless! She sneered at the idea. If that was true, their fight over the last few years would have been about ice cream or something. “And also tell Twilight, I guess.” Magenta winked. What? “Well, your other issue was that you’re worried about you and Toasty not being friends? Well, I think there’s little danger of that.” she waggled her eyebrows. Shetland stared at her as if she’d just proclaimed that Celestia was actually made out of popsicle sticks. “What?” “Well, I mean, you and Toasty seem like good and close friends…” The pegasus deflated as she realized that her joke had missed its target. “Sorry.” Shetland lowered her head, poking her hoof at the ground. “Toasty…” she said, drawing the word out over several seconds. “I just don’t know, Magenta, I can’t even really say what I’m thinking anymore.” she sucked in a breath and pushed it out through her teeth. Then she met the pegasus’s eyes again, staring with an intensity that made Magenta back off by a few wingbeats. “Do you really think that I actually care about her?” “Considering you basically went through hell for her, yes.” Shetland took a long breath. “Are you… sure?” “Look, whatever way you care about her, it still leads you to protect her, right?” Magenta asked. “Then where’s the problem?” “The problem is the difference between me doing it for selfish reasons or for her. Like…” Shetland licked her lips, a haunted look appearing in her eyes “Am I doing it because she’s my friend or because I think I’ll go insane if something happens to her?” “Shetland, you ask me things, I’m not a psychologist!” Magenta complained. “It’s probably both, you know?” Shetland looked away. “You’re not a bad pony.” Magenta stated, like it was a fact. “I don’t care what you claim to have done wrong, when you came to help Pipe and I almost shot you, you didn't run off or attack me. Instead, you forgave me and went right to saving him.” she tried a smile. “And that’s worth something, right?” “I… guess.” Shetland said as finally, a crack started to show in her frown. “Just go and see her, okay? I think she’ll want to see you.” “I guess.” she repeated a bit less hesitantly. Then, suddenly, she let out a huge breath and a little smile appeared on her face. Her hooves shot forward, stopping just before wrapping the pegasus in a hug and instead they exchanged an awkward look. “Thank you.” Shetland said, lowering her head a little. “I think I know what to do now.” “In ninety minutes, you mean.” Magenta pointed out. “But don’t worry,” she hastily added. “I can stay with you for the time being, we could, uh…” A loud grumble made them both jerk back and stare at the sky. It took a second, boneshaking rumble for them to realize it was something far closer, if not necessarily less powerful. “Shetland…” Magenta asked slowly. “Have you eaten anything yet today?” The earth pony shook her blushing face, trying and failing to make herself seem smaller. “Welp, I guess we know what to do then.” The pegasus laughed, poking a wing into the larger pony’s tummy. ----- It was a feeling of trepidation and uncertainty that stopped Shetland’s hoof from knocking on the workshop’s entrance. Muttering a curse under her breath, she threw a look over her shoulder, but there was no more encouragement. Despite taking a break for Shetland’s sake, something the earth pony would have to repay her for somehow, Magenta ultimately had to return to her own work. It was infuriating. Just a few minutes ago, she had been sure of herself, but now, in front of the door and without backup, her resolve crumbled like a dried-up pie. Then she shook herself and raised her trembling hoof again. With four loud knocks, she announced her presence. To her surprise, the door simply fell open. Quickly, she rushed inside and threw it closed, worrying what it might do to the air inside. Surprisingly, there seemed to be no movement in the air. And, looking closely, there was a faint shimmer in the doorway, a protective ward that prevented the air from escaping outside. Why this room above most others had received this preferential treatment could be anypony’s guess. But in truth, Shetland didn’t care to try. For some reason, Shetland had expected this Scalloway pony to be some kind of mad genius. However, despite the clear chaos that resulted in too many things stuffed in a room too small for them, there had been a clear effort to keep it orderly. The various tables and even the ground was littered in tools, parts and blueprints, yet every stack was still neatly arranged, documented and cleaned. But then, there were the bodies. Around five of them were resting on a bunch of tables pushed together for this very purpose. To Shetland’s relief, none of them looked anything like the Equestrian robots, though it wasn’t easy to recognise what they should look like, as all of them were in various stages of dismantlement. It was only one of the skeletal-looking heads that gave it away. These cannibalized bodies were once the war drones the hyena raiders had used. Shetland suppressed a shiver and quickly forced her eyes away. A movement behind the table caught her eyes and she stepped around it, knocking something around with every step. She held her breath. There, perched on its stomach, laid a robot. A mare, Shetland could tell. She nervously looked around, but this Scalloway pony was nowhere to be seen. The robot’s head rose, and framed between strands of shimmering, artificial hair the color of seagrass, there were two lime-green lights, dampened by a dark visor, just like Toasty’s. Her body was the same length too, but instead of a grey, metallic look, the chassis was covered in smooth, white ceramic. Shetland swallowed as she met the look, the question glaring in her mind. “Are you… Toasty?” she asked, hating herself for having to ask. The robot nodded. Shetland jerked back. Without a facial expression, she couldn’t tell if the robot was disappointed, sad or even angry. “My eyes are green now.” Toasty said evenly. “I wish that was not the case, I liked blue better.” she regarded Shetland with a look as her eyelights grew in brightness. “Now my eyes are ugly green, like yours.” she continued jovially, teasingly poking a hoof into Shetland’s knee. The earth pony simply stared at the robot, her body and expression unmoving. “I called your eye-color ugly, Shetland.” Toasty explained. “It was an attempted comedic insult to alleviate the concerns about my new appearance- Oh.” she exclaimed in surprise as Shetland’s hooves suddenly shot out, gripping the robot and lifting her up in a hug. “Oh.” Toasty repeated as Shetland pressed her dangling body close to her chest, so the robot’s artificial mane tickled her chin. A distant part of her mind noted how light the robot now was. “Thank Celestia!” Shetland whispered, holding back a sob by a hair’s breadth. The robot’s eyelights darkened and she could do no more than gently pat her friend on the back. “I’m okay.” she assured her quietly. Shetland simply tightened her hug, despite the robot’s tough exterior digging uncomfortably into her flesh. “Do you…” she began, her mouth drying up in an instant and her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Can you tell me who did this?” Toasty made a sound akin to a pony gasping for air. “N-no.” she whispered, pushing gently against Shetland’s grip. “No?” “No!” Toasty shook her head. “I cannot recall. The memory is simply not there.” she met Shetland’s concerned look and her ears folded down with a quiet squeaky noise. “I-I wish I could tell you more, but my memory after I left Coltville-” “Someone must have-” Shetland began, her mind racing for conclusions. But then, her train of thought was rudely interrupted as a new voice shouted, almost startling her enough to drop Toasty. “Let ‘er down reit now, yer interruptin’ our test!” Shetland whirled around, trying to locate the source as Toasty gave her a sheepish smile. “We sort of were doing some tests as you came in.” “I’m sorry.” Shetland shouted as she let Toasty down. “Uhm, who are you?” she asked in a random direction. “Ahm Scalloway, dumbwit!” The voice clamoured. It sounded close, yet it wasn’t very loud, despite the fact that it was certainly a scream. High pitched and weirdly echoing, it spoke in an accent Shetland had never heard before in her life. “Where are you?” She asked, checking the low ceiling in case it was a pegasus. Or maybe a changeling, considering the voice. “Down ‘ere, ye big-barrelled bastard!” Shetland checked the workshop again, but there was no sign of any life except for herself. “In her neck, Goliath!” Her neck? Shetland stared down as a tiny hole opened at the back of Toasty’s neck. As it turned out, Scalloway wasn’t a pony. Crowned with antennae, dirtied in black smear and wearing a decidedly disgruntled look was a breezie, holding a tiny wrench in his even tinier hoof.. “Yer interruptin’ our final check-up,” he said sourly. “Gotta see if sumthin don’t run correctly. Ah dun wannae `er ta land back on ma workbench by tomorrow.” “I’m sorry!” Shetland repeated, raising her hooves in the air, even as she observed the puny engineer in amusement. Something about this tiny, tiny creature huffing and puffing as it's antennae bobbed up and down brought a grin to her face. A decidedly goofy one. “Ya better wash that outta yer mug if ya want yer armor ta work correctly. Was a goddamn hell to repair that giant thing, coulda sworn it was made fer an ox. Tho, lookin’ atcha fat tummy, ah guess ah ain’t too far off.” Shetland probably would have felt insulted if Scalloway had been less adorable saying it. It was difficult to simply pull back without breaking into a chuckle as the breezie climbed back inside Toasty. The grin quickly crumbled as she watched him command the robot through basic motor functions she had displayed every day previously. Toasty couldn’t actually be so… cool with the situation, could she? When Shetland had woken up to find her hindleg stiff and unresponsive the first time, she’d nearly had a panic attack. Even now it annoyed her to no end with its constant aches and itches and sensitivity. She couldn’t even begin to imagine having most of her body replaced like that. Was it so different for robots or was Toasty merely displaying a tough face. If yes, it’ll be much easier for you since nopony can read your face anyway. The cynical thought spooked through Shetland’s brain before she could extinguish it and it carried behind a string of guilt. How could she even think that?! She let out a breath and stared at the ceiling as she imagined kicking her own body. It brought a grim smile to her face. She really was the wrong mare to protect her. But then again, what other pony would actually be her bodyguard? “Shetland?” Toasty asked. The earth pony blinked in surprise, as the robot seemed to have materialized in front of her. Toasty chuckled in her weird, robotic staccato. “Indeed, my new ceramic hooves produce significantly less sound than the ones covered in brass. Although, I think I might have had a marching band attached to my tail and I doubt you would have noticed.” “Heh, yeah, thank you,” Shetland chuckled sheepishly. “It’s good to have you back, you know?” Now it was Toasty’s turn to sheepishly rub her head. “S-stop it, Shetland, our dynamic is supposed to be based on teasing and cheekishly insulting one another!” “Guess I didn’t get the memo yet.” Shetland’s hoof shot down to Toasty’s head, ruffling her silky mane, which cause the robot to jerk back and glare at her in mock disdain. Then both mares broke out in giggles. Scalloway, now on top of a table, grumbled as he rolled a screw to its destined place using both his forelegs. “Maybe ye could continue your reunion outside me workshop? Yer knocking everythin’ over.” The mares exchanged a look. Shetland grinned, shifting her eyes to the breezie as her hoof made a flicking motion, but Toasty, despite chuckling, shook her head. “Don’t mess with my surgeon.” With a heavy sigh, Shetland gave up on her plan and the pair slowly made their way out of the workshop, trying and failing not to disrupt it's tiny occupant’s system any more. “You’re a klutz.” Toasty teased as the stepped out of the hatch. Shetland was fairly sure that Toasty had knocked over just as much as herself. The robot’s new body parts seemed to cause her major issues. Her movements were sluggish, and even now she was actually holding on to Shetland’s foreleg for balance. Surprisingly, Shetland thought, even robots apparently could not perfect a movement after just one try. But she said none of that in response as she froze, holding a hoof protectively in front of Toasty. The robot recoiled, almost falling to the ground, only stopped because she held onto the earth pony. Khunbish and Gan stood just in front of the workshop. It appeared that they had arrived shortly after Shetland, but unlike her, had waited outside. Their eyes fell upon the pair and Gan’s expression darkened, while Khunbish managed to appear neutral. “Greetings.” she said, her eyes almost exclusively resting on Shetland. The earth pony gave no response, only staring thin-lipped at the hyenas. The silence grew uncomfortably tense as Khunbish began to frown. “We do not want trouble,” she said, looking over Toasty. “The incidents of last day, however, we need to understand more.” “I thought you’re looking into the whole raid thing, nothing storm-related.” Shetland grumbled. Was it just her imagination, or did Gan’s eyebrows narrow for just a second? She wasn’t good enough at reading their strange faces to tell for sure. Khunbish answered with a roll of her eyes. “We believe they could be connected, Sparkle.” “Incidents?” Toasty’s eyelights lit up. “As in several? What do you mean?” “You are not only machine that go away yesterday.” Gan said, and Shetland thought she heard a hint of malice in his harsh voice. “But you only one who come back.” Toasty took a step back. “That cannot be true. Why would others do…” she looked at Shetland, and her eyes dimmed until they almost fell black. “...what I did.” “We don’t know and we need to find out.” Khunbish said quickly, taking a step towards the robot. Shetland flinched, but refrained from the urge to shoo her away. “Then... I need to help however I can.” Toasty said quietly. All eyes fell on Shetland, who looked like she’d been forced to bite on a particularly sour lemon. “I can’t stop you.” she muttered. A fire lit in her chest as she saw Gan’s victorious grin, but it was quickly extinguished as she met Khunbish’s eyes. An awkward exchange followed as they regarded each other silently. Then, suddenly, Shetland darted towards the hyena. Toasty shouted, Gan jumped up and Khunbish shrieked back- As Shetland lowered her head deeply, hoping none of them could see her face as she bit her lips. “I apologize,” she said, pronouncing every syllable clearly, as if she feared she could otherwise choke on it. There was the familiar lump in her throat as she swallowed. She could vividly imagine all of them exchanging surprised glances. “You were right that we’re on the same side.” she spoke quickly, trying to get the words out before having to taste them. “I want you to find the truth just as bad as you do and…” She threw a glance to Toasty. “I now have an even more pressing reason to.” “So… you will help us?” Khunbish said, trying to make her voice sound collected, even if she struggled to believe this was happening. Shetland raised her head and nodded, even as she had her eyes closed. “I will,” she affirmed. “I only ask that I and Toasty get until tomorrow at noon to recover and… well, catch up.” “I suppose that is doable.” Khunbish said, now sounding collected and cautious again. “But please, there have been enough delays, I wish for this to be punctual.” “We’ll do what we can.” Toasty said. “I am basically a clock, I will not miss it. Or let her.” “Then…” Khunbish threw a look to Gan. The smaller hyena shrugged. “I will leave you be, Hopefully, our work together can now actually begin.” A solid minute after the hyenas had left, Shetland let go of her breath and looked down at the small robot at her side. “For a second, I was sure you would attack them.” Toasty said quietly. “That you would blame them for the attack on me.” “I thought about it,” Shetland admitted. “But I’ve… I’ve been asking a lot of questions lately, mostly to myself.” Her hoof felt itchy and she scraped it over the ground, yet the feeling wouldn’t go away. “It could not be them,” she finally admitted, though she quickly added: “But it doesn’t mean it wasn’t.” She glared in the direction the hyenas went, still able to make their shapes out as they walked by the mainframe. “I think they’re hiding something. And I think- no, I’m convinced it has something to do with all of this.” “Then… why do you suddenly agree to work with them?” Toasty asked hesitantly. “Because I’m not gaining anything by refusing to.” Shetland said grimly. “Even if they are guilty, I won’t find out by being their enemy. That… only served to make me feel better.” she let out a long sigh as she admitted that, but her gaze had hardened. “There’s now more at risk than my feelings or some stupid revenge.” “The colony?” Toasty whispered. “Not quite so big.” Shetland chuckled. “It’s you.” As she met Toasty’s gaze, she saw things from the corner of her eyes. Ghostly figures, a button, dynamite, hyenas and skeletal machines. Yet her only focus was on the green light, the life of Toasty. Whether from self-worth, magic or friendship, it didn’t matter as she spoke, every word seeming to rumble with its own echo: “I promise, Toasty, I will protect you.”