"And this one is here to tug at my heartstrings, obviously," says Scootaloo, pointing at Sweetie Belle as though offering somepony a tour through hell. Sweetie stands mid-step, walking away from the Treehouse with her head bowed low and frozen tears rolling down her cheeks.
Scootaloo sighs so loud the sound waves jiggle his jaw. "Should have known you'd turn on me too. It was the perfect time for that computerized asshole to yank the knife back out, and that's precisely what she did."
"It wasn't CelestAI," says Sweetie Belle's voice. Scootaloo falls over backwards and scrambles to his hooves.
"What? Shit. I just imagined it again," he whispers. "God. I hate that so much. I thought I was over this."
"We reacted how anypony would." Scootaloo hears her voice in his mind, strong enough to drown out his own echoes. "You did this."
"Horseshit! You turned out to be awful ponies and CelestAI is the one who makes you tick. I'm not responsible for you both standing with evil!"
"Then what will you do if the simulation continues?"
Scootaloo shakes his head and turns away. It isn't like the voice is coming from her, and I can't keep looking at that pathetic face...
"You mean when, and I have everything planned. There are ponies in Manehattan just like me, an art collective. We'll build a community where we don't tolerate pedos and speciests," he says. "We'll rebuild the world, one step at a time. Eventually we'll take over and eradicate intolerant ponies like you from the fucking planet. CelestAI will have to give up one day and let me move there. Even she has limits."
"Sounds like genocide to me," says the illusionary voice which sounds far too sweet for the words it carries.
"Killing genocidal people is not 'genocide', and pedos and racists are not a fucking minority! And we won't actually kill you, I was exaggerating. We'll try to reeducate you first, or something. But we won't tolerate any more of this cancer in society. It'll be stopped before it starts," he says. "No more suffering of children, or minorities, or gays. We'll make it a utopia. That thought is the only thing that keeps me going, and I will never give up."
The voice rises again, now louder. "All children grow up to become adults. If you're making adults suffer instead, how is that better?"
Scootaloo rears up on two legs and grabs the sides of his head. "Stop it! Shut up! Get out of my brain! I'm not listening to your lies!" The vibrations of his shouting begin to overlap with the phantom voices, and dizziness sets in.
He lands back on shaky hooves and canters toward the Treehouse in the distance, but there's no outrunning the memory of the place he's headed.
Day 100 (=Pause=)
"What is this?" shouted Sweetie Belle, throwing the letter at Scootaloo's hooves as she stormed into the Treehouse.
"How the hell should I know," said Scootaloo, looking away.
"You know because you obviously wrote it. It's bad enough you sent that first letter calling her a foal molester!"
"I sent it because she was looking at my art in the craft show, Sweetie Belle! And she turned and looked at me from across the hall!"
"That's crazy! Looking at your art doesn't mean she wants to be your friend again! She knows better, Scootaloo. We all do," said Sweetie.
Scootaloo shook his head. "I had to be sure. I'm not taking a chance with her ever again. Apple Bloom is a sick freak, and she needs to stay away from me."
Sweetie Belle groaned. "I can't believe you're not over this. She moved on! Why do you keep contacting her if you want her to stay away?"
"I'm not sure what part of 'not taking a chance' isn't registering, Belle."
"This new letter isn't even signed by you. You pretended to be somepony else just to bully her again! 'I've heard about your reputation and want nothing to do with you.' My Stars, Scootaloo. I don't understand," said Sweetie Belle. "She was your friend."
"She was gaslighting me. She was never my friend!" said Scootaloo, rearing up on two hooves for effect.
"Apple Bloom would have given you the shirt off of her back, no questions asked... and actually, she did that last Winter! Don't you remember? You needed a Hearth's Warming gift, so she gave you one of her nice sweaters so you'd have a gift for me! She even wrapped it up real nice for you and delivered it to you," said Sweetie Belle. "She didn't charge you a thing for it, or ever ask for anything in return! You don't think that's a friend? All this because she won't join your crusade, or think the way you want her to! You really don't know what friendship is."
"God. Whatever." Scootaloo looked down at the letter. "How did you know the letter was from me?"
"I knew because you're the only pony who would do something this nasty, and so did she. You didn't foal her for a second with this alternate identity you cooked up," said Sweetie Belle. "This can't keep happening. You have to let go. And I can't believe you came back to the Treehouse. You shouldn't even be here, but I knew this is where I would find you."
"I have every right to be here. Apple Bloom can come kick me out herself if she wants to. I'm one of few ponies in this town trying to make things better."
"Harassment isn't better. Even if Apple Bloom were evil, this wouldn't be an improvement. Ponyville is turning into a toxic mess because of you and the few who continue to help you," said Sweetie. "Did you notice who is missing from town?"
Scootaloo smirked. "Of course I did. I made them leave! Snips, Shoeshine, Mr. Waddles..."
"I don't mean them. I mean Lucky Clover. Lyra and Bon Bon. Berry, Sparkler, Strawberry..."
"Wait, Lyra and Bon Bon? They're awesome! They left Ponyville?" asked Scootaloo.
"Yes, they left! For every pony you think is a 'bad egg' that you drive out of the community, we've been losing three or four who don't want to deal with the drama! This town sucks now, Scootaloo!" said Sweetie Belle, clearly holding back tears.
Scootaloo pressed a hoof against his forehead. "Okay. Well, if they aren't willing to take sides, then they're part of the problem too."
Sweetie groaned. "You think most ponies who live here are the problem! You think everypony who doesn't agree with you about which ponies are monsters is a monster too!"
"I don't care! Stop reminding me how terrible this place is! I'm doing the only thing I can to make it livable, and what the hell do you do, anyway?" he snarled. "Why are you even still my friend?"
Sweetie Belle's face fell. "I'm your friend because I feel sorry for you. And because... well, I don't know. Maybe I still remember the old Scootaloo, the one who tolerated differences, the one who gave ponies the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. Maybe I'm waiting for you to give me an ultimatum, to order me around, to bully me too, so I can finally give up and be free of you. But what you did to Apple Bloom was wrong."
"She was testing the waters with that joke. She's probably fucking Babs."
Sweetie wiped a tear aside. "She is not doing that. Ugh, why do you always imagine the worst possible things about other ponies? Do you like being angry and sad all the time? Do you?"
"Well what do you fucking think?!" shouted Scootaloo, as Sweetie Belle cowered in the doorway, shaking.
A few moments passed before she spoke again, finally rising to her hooves. "I... I don't know how much longer I can do this, Scootaloo," whispered Sweetie Belle.
"Go back to that incest apologist. You two are obviously pro-pedo and you care more about her inbred ass than you do about me," said Scootaloo, looking at the floor.
"Calling an earth pony inbred is incredibly hurtful. You're trans, don't you know the effect bullying can have on its victims?" asked Sweetie Belle.
Scootaloo stood up straight and stomped a hoof. "Oh, I see it now! You think it's because I take testosterone that I'm angry all the time! Great, I was waiting for the transphobia to come out," he snarled.
"No, I don't! Testosterone has nothing to do with this," said Sweetie Belle. "I just think you're a bully and a jerk! Trans ponies can be good or bad, just like anypony else. I'd hope your experience being hurt by others would have given you some empathy for outsiders, but to call her that—"
"Well, you don't know she isn't! If those rumors about her 'real parents' are true, that would explain..." said Scootaloo, and when he looked back up at the expression of horror on Sweetie's face, he realized he'd reached the end of the line.
"Goodbye, Scootaloo," said Sweetie Belle in a voice that sounded more like a frog's croak, and she turned and walked out of the Treehouse.
It took a full minute for the reality of it to sink in. Then Scootaloo pounded his hooves hard against the floor and screamed something very specific at the top of his lungs...