//------------------------------//
// I Live 
// Story: Digital Effigy 
// by Starscribe 
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Lucid's next day was a flurry of activity. It was never his first choice to be up so early in the morning. But once the prototype was up, she refused to sit still. She would probably run off on her own again, potentially causing herself all kinds of worse damage if he didn't intervene. In a single weekend, he'd gone from a hobbyist tinkerer to perhaps the first pony to set hoof onto an incredible road of life extension and medicine, one never before considered. But that meant incredible pressure for him: if Sweetie failed, Equestria would probably see her case as exemplary of the technology in general. It might fade away without ever being properly explored. 

It soon became clear that he wasn't going to be able to switch her off while he reviewed her latest diagnostic data, or made repairs to her superstructure. This was a filly, not an abstract experiment in machine intelligence. Her patience did not stretch very far.

"I have to go over these readings," he explained, around breakfast time. "In the future, maybe I can... get some books from the library or something. Is there anything you'd like to read?"

The pony seemed to think that over, then shook her head. "I like the Shadow Spade books I guess. But we don't need to worry about it. I'll be home soon, won't I?"

Would she? That was a question he couldn't easily answer. On his tablet, he reviewed snapshots of her network activity, graphed at such a high level that he barely understood what he was looking at anymore. Of course it was easy to know in the abstract that this was the product of a pony mind-simulation. He'd seen its like used in far simpler examples, classifying images or generating text responses to messages.

Even those were so complex they couldn't be understood without expert-level knowledge. How was he supposed to know if an entire pony's mind was breaking down?

There were a few metrics displayed, showing the model's adherence to the sample scan, along with a speculated theoretical “safe” level of activity.

"Mr. Lucid Storm?" Sweetie poked her head directly in front of him, blocking his view of the screen. To get there, she had dragged the charger across the ground, rather than coming disconnected from it. "How long until I can move in with my sister?"

He winced, avoiding looking directly at her. But he'd been dodging around questions like this for too long. He checked the pad one final time, then set it aside. "Sweetie, there are some things you have to understand. You're not... a normal pony anymore. Everything you could take for granted about growing up before—it won't be true anymore."

"I don't..." She slumped onto her haunches, tilting her head to one side. "What does that mean?"

"A lot." He backed away from her, to where he kept a shop mirror. He rotated it towards her, so she was looking directly at the reflection. "Your body is made from plastic and stainless steel. My first design was more about minimum viable product than—"

Technical was the wrong direction. He could practically watch her losing focus before his eyes. "You won't grow up, not unless we make a bigger body and move you over. You won't ever eat again, or sleep again, unless we can find a way to simulate it. Your body will wear down all the time, but not fix itself. Any time something goes wrong, you'll have to come back to me, because it won't ever get better." He leaned in closer to her, meeting her eyes. "Do you understand?"

She wobbled, electric pupils widening. "I, uh—I think so. How often will I break?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "Nopony knows anything about you. By helping me, your old self agreed to help ponies all over Equestria. If this works... there might one day be big factories making new bodies all the time. Maybe they'll make them so nice that you don't break down anymore, and you can venture out into the wilderness as far as you want. But until then, we have to be careful."

He set the mirror down, then flicked his tail towards the open door. "I spent most of the budget making your mind as sturdy as possible. But your body—it's the only one we have. It could take months to replace if you break it. You need to be careful."

"Got it." The filly nodded, confident. "I'll protect it, Mr. Lucid Storm. I'll make everypony proud." She stood up, posing dramatically. "When can I see my friends?"

"I'll talk to your sister and set something up," he said. "It will probably have to be indoors. Your battery isn't really meant for field use, It's just supposed to keep you going during servicing."

There was so much he didn't say. The child didn't need to know how dependent her longevity was on sustained budgeting from project donors, or some sponsorship. There were plenty of wealthy ponies he'd been courting, who all wanted a way to assure their “legacy.” Having a real prototype to show them should assure investment, assuming the Crown didn't come down on the project.

It didn't take long to get Sweetie the chance she deserved. A few days to get a charging station moved into Rarity's boutique, and get in contact with Sweetie's old friends. It would've been kinder to the prototype to shut her down during that time, maybe wake her again when she could go back to something like her old life.

But Lucid had no way of knowing she would survive that process. Just because the network had successfully booted on the first attempt did not mean it would sustain a second activation. Maybe she could freely suspend and activate for a thousand years without any trouble—or maybe this success was a fluke that would never happen again.

Her days of boredom passed, and finally it was time to make the move. Lucid brought her over in the middle of the night, both because the pony didn't sleep and because most of Ponyville did. He had taken enough steps to ensure the pony looked like her former self.

Most of those just came down to choosing the right colors of filament to print her body. But that would mean everypony in town would be able to recognize her, if they saw her.

Best to introduce his experiment with resurrection as slowly as possible. Ponyville had taken enough time to adjust to the fact that there was a bat living in the village. Foal-sized hoofsteps, here.

She still had a bedroom. Lucid rolled the dolly of equipment into the old room, just behind her. He stopped in the doorway, momentarily silenced. Did you keep this here waiting for my experiment to succeed? he wondered. Or would you have left this for years, even if I wasn't here? 

"Woah, everything's still here!" Sweetie bounded across the room, with jumps that made him cringe just a little with every impact. Her mechanisms should be shock-resistant, but there was no telling for sure without a test. As vigorous as any filly could manage. 

"Sure is," Rarity proclaimed. "When we... when we last spoke, I gave you my word. I would keep all this exactly as you left it, waiting for the day of your return. Other than regular maintenance, and occasionally changing the linens, everything is exactly as you left it. Besides the—hospice equipment."

She cleared her throat, ears flattening. "Regardless, I'm sure your friends will be delighted to see you again."

Lucid kept out of their conversation. All that really mattered to him was getting the charger and monitoring suite set up in a vacant space against the wall. In time, she would probably want to ditch the bed entirely. 

Finally he finished connecting everything up. He cleared his throat to get Sweetie's attention. The filly had occupied herself with an old cloth cape, spinning around with it in one foreleg. There was a little symbol stitched onto the back, but Lucid didn't recognize it. A school prop, maybe?

"Sweetie? Before I go, two things to show you." And by extension, Rarity. He held up a long cable with one hoof, ending in a flat connector. "This here—it attaches to your back, right here. So long as it's plugged in, you don't need to worry about running out of energy. And this right here—" 

He gestured at a large red button at the top of the charger. "If something goes wrong—if your body starts doing something unexpected, or you're having a hard time thinking straight, touch this. It will stop everything until I can get here, or somepony else who knows what they're doing with machines. Alright?”

"Will that happen?" Sweetie asked. "I mean, you made me right the first time, right?"

He chuckled. "I tried to. But organic ponies have millions of years of evolution and magical development on us. There may be some mistakes, some trial and error. Only way we'll know what to do is to try."

Of course it wasn't just a charger. The whole assembly was also a diagnostic recorder, which would make snapshots of system status over time, to track the prototype's endurance. And importantly, alert him if replacement parts needed to be ordered. 

There was more than a little weight on his shoulders now. At least right now, he was the only pony in all Equestria who knew how to keep Sweetie Belle alive. 

Rarity left her sister to get settled, and followed him to the door. "You've worked a miracle here today, Lucid Storm," she said. There was a little tiredness in her voice from the late hour, but not much. Rarity was too graceful and composed to let the time faze her.

"I don't know if you understand or appreciate just how significant that is. Whatever resources my sister needs, you will have them. And when the time comes, my personal recommendation to the princess."

"Not for a long time yet, please," he said. "These results have been incredible so far, but we aren't done. Keep an eye on her, and report any strange behavior to me. It might not be her fault—she's constrained by her hardware. And when she breaks something—she will—just make sure she doesn't panic. There's no part of that body we can't repair or replace."

"I'll remember," the unicorn promised. "And keep you updated if anything changes."

Lucid left the boutique behind, pushing an empty dolly. Whatever happened to the prototype now really depended on her. Only time would tell if that meant rising to incredible achievement, or proving every skeptic was right after all.





Sweetie met her old friends the next day. It didn't feel like that long since their last time together—but that was another life, when her body barely worked and staying awake was a constant battle. 

She still remembered how sad they always looked around her, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. Would they look at her new self the same way?

Apple Bloom showed up first, rushing up to the boutique after a day selling apples in the marketplace. She spent a long time outside, looking up at the building and looking sad. Finally she knocked, and Rarity rushed out to meet her.

Sweetie had made a mess of her room, more than her old self ever had. She had every old photo-album off the shelf, and a dozen different outfits spread across the bed. It wasn't like she needed the space for sleep. So long as the cable stayed connected, she never got tired. 

Even knowing she was coming, she was still nervous, shifting her weight anxiously from hoof to hoof. Ponies weren't supposed to come back from the dead. What if Apple Bloom didn't want to see her again?

Rarity knocked lightly on the door, then opened it a crack. "Sweetie? There's somepony here to see you. Can I let her in?"

She took a deep breath—or tried. Nothing actually happened, but the instinct was still there. Her ears still moved, her tail fell limply behind her. She tried and failed to relax. "Yeah I'm ready."