The knocking came on Sweetie's door, as clear in her new ears as ever. Part of her wished she could get away with hiding in her bed—but she knew better than to try. A meeting like this might never happen again. If she messed it up now...
"Come in!" she called, sounding far more confident than she really felt. "I'm here."
Seconds later, the door swung open, and Apple Bloom was standing there.
The little earth pony was slightly taller than Sweetie expected. The last time she'd been with her friends, she remembered three ponies who were all about the same height, minus the variation from her horn. That was no longer the case.
Apple Bloom stepped inside, though not far. She stopped just through the doorway, leaving the door open behind her.
"You gonna run away?" Sweetie asked, eyeing it. "You didn't have to come if you didn't want to." She stood from her desk, though she left the photo-album behind her.
Apple Bloom stared, mouth still hanging open. For a good long while she didn't answer, remaining silent and still. "Rarity said a bat brought you back to life," she said. "Of course I had to come." She advanced a few steps, eyeing the charger and diagnostic equipment that took a large part of the empty space in Sweetie's room. "She said something about machines, but I didn't think... I didn't realize what it meant."
"That I'm part machine?" Sweetie prompted. "All machine, really. There's nothing... alive, exactly. It's all mechanical."
The apple filly sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "I... I remember saying goodbye last year. My sister said I wouldn't get to come visit again. They d-didn't think you'd last through the night. Hardest thing I ever did. I was just a foal when the fire... when my parents..."
Sweetie nodded once. She wanted to reach out and offer her support, to hold on to her friend and never let go. But she resisted, no matter how much it hurt. Sweetie Belle could cry, but no tears came to her eyes no matter how much it hurt. Moisture was dangerous to her, if too much of it got through her frame. "You promised you'd... r-remember me," Sweetie whispered. "You said that Cheerilee's class was gonna do a memorial for me. How'd that go?"
Apple Bloom looked up. Her eyes were swollen with hot tears, which streaked her face freely now. "Great, it went great. Even Diamond Tiara found something nice to..." She trailed off abruptly. "How can you remember that?" She circled slowly around Sweetie, far enough to get a better view to her left and right. "You do look like her. You have the right colors. But how can a machine be my friend?"
Sweetie winced. This was exactly the reason she was nervous about this meeting. Apple Bloom in particular seemed like a pony who would remain skeptical of her, maybe forever. "I don't know how it happened, exactly." She tapped the side of her head with one hoof, though even that was a lie. Her head felt light, practically empty. From the heat that always radiated from her torso, Sweetie guessed that was where her mechanical mind was really located.
"When I was sick, I agreed to let Lucid Storm try this new... scan. He set it up in the hospital and left it there, waiting to see how bad I would get. When I was... so sick I couldn't even move anymore, and I knew I would be gone soon—that's when he did it. A machine went onto my head, recording everything about me to a computer. I guess it took all this time to put that recording into a pony. Now I'm back!" She held up that same foreleg, flexing the interlocking plastic joint. "Feels a lot like it used to, except for touch. That's worse—but Lucid Storm says he'll figure it all out. He needed a pony who was actually alive to tinker with that stuff."
Apple Bloom held out her leg, touching against Sweetie's hoof. She pressed against the plastic, then pulled back just as quickly.
At least Sweetie Belle could still feel touch in her hooves. That pressure sensitivity was how she walked, and it could also serve almost as well for a hoof shake with a friend.
"That's hard for me to understand," Apple Bloom said. "I don't mean about scans and robot ponies and the like—I know clever ponies can do amazing things. They'll do more amazing things all the time. I just don't understand where the space is for the soul in all this. You ever heard of that?"
"No," Sweetie answered honestly. "What's a soul?"
"According to my granny—it's you." She tapped her chest with one hoof, then settled down into a sitting position. Within reach this time, not about to break and run. "Can't see it, can't touch it. But it's the part of you that goes on when this life is over. The part that loves and hates and fears. The part that misses your family when you've been away too long. The part that feels guilty when you make a mistake, or feels good when you make up for it."
"It's your conscience?" Sweetie asked, tilting her head to the side. "I know I can still feel bad for things. I ran out on my first night, and almost broke myself. Scared my big sister half to death when I did it, too. I still feel guilty about it..." Her head sagged, and her ears flattened as she spoke. She didn't even know exactly how she would make it up to her sister for that surprise wake-up call.
Apple Bloom grunted in frustration. "It's not—well, maybe it is. I dunno. You still sound like my friend. Can you still sing?"
She nodded. "Better, and worse. The way ponies make sounds is different from me. I can't get as loud, but I can sing for a lot longer. Maybe forever." She never needed to pause for breath, though she still usually did. It was instinct, even if no part of her body required breathing. Fans in her torso constantly circulated cool air to keep her insides cool. If they stopped, she would shut down.
A pair of rapid hoofsteps sounded in the hall. Before either of them could react, somepony else came stampeding into the room, her wings buzzing to speed her just a little more.
Scootaloo crossed the room in a blur. She stopped directly beside Apple Bloom, looking Sweetie Belle up and down.
"Hey, Scoots," Sweetie began, raising one hoof.
She hadn't got it down again before the pony rushed forward to embrace her, pulling her into a tight, shaking hug. "You're back!" Scootaloo didn't cry as openly. Her voice cracked, but when she let go, she pretended not to notice the tears. "I didn't know if it was real. But here you are, all... robot, now?"
She nodded. "Pretty much. Just don't ask me to vacuum the floors, I'm still not very good at it. The power cable isn't long enough." Now she didn't have to fake a smile anymore.
"Can't be worse than you are in the kitchen," Scootaloo countered, beaming right back. She was taller too, even taller than Apple Bloom. Her wings were much bigger than Sweetie remembered. Could she fly with those?
Sweetie suppressed that question. She didn't want to make her friend feel bad if the answer was no, even another year later.
"You don't wonder if she's for real?" Apple Bloom asked. "You just—hear, and assume?"
Scootaloo took a step back, gesturing at her. "If that's not Sweetie Belle, who else am I looking at? I know my friend when I see her." She leaned forward, patting Sweetie Belle's head with a hoof. "Bit of a small fry though, isn't she? Guess you didn't grow up since we saw you last."
Sweetie would've been frustrated at most ponies calling her short. After today, she would let Scootaloo call her anything she wanted. "It hasn't even been two weeks for me," she admitted. "Since we talked last, I mean."
"Woah. Guess we'll have to catch you up on everything." She sat down as though she were about to get started, then jerked suddenly up into the air. She drifted back to the ground, wings still spread. "Wait. I'm gonna get some snacks. What do robots eat?"
"Electricity," Sweetie answered, defeated. "I haven't felt hungry since I woke up. But I still miss eating things. The bat who made me says that's probably not gonna happen for a long time, though. Eating things is complicated, and there are a lot more important things to work out first."
Scootaloo shrugged. "Alright. One sec." She darted back out the door the way she'd come, leaving Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom alone in the awkward silence all over again.
"I want this to be real so bad," the earth pony whispered. "Of course I want my friend back. I want you to be Sweetie Belle."
"I am," she said. "I don't know about souls or whatever. I can't even pour a glass of orange juice without burning it. But do you think maybe—I could be like... a probationary friend? You could just give me a chance... p-pretend I'm the real Sweetie Belle. Then wait and see if I'm not."
She sniffed, and her voice felt like it would crack. But it never did, just as she couldn't cry. Was that a feature on Lucid Storm's list?
Apple Bloom was silent and still for a long time. Finally she leaned forward and hugged her. Lighter than Scootaloo had, but the love behind it felt no less real. Tentative, but sincere. "I'll try. It's good to see you again, Sweets. Missed you a lot."
"Missed you too," she squeaked. "Not as long as you two, but just as much. When you left the hospital, I didn't think I'd see you again either. I wish I was a real pony—but I'll take this if it's all I get. Beats being dead." She giggled at the morbid joke. Apple Bloom didn't share her amusement.
Instead she let go, looking awkwardly away. "While you were, uh—while you were over there... did you talk to my parents? Did they have anything to tell me?"
Sweetie settled back down onto her haunches. "I don't remember anything from while I was..." She shrugged her shoulders. "One minute, I was in the hospital room, getting ready for the scan. The bat talked to my sister, told me it might feel a little funny—then I woke up in the garage, and my body was all weird. There wasn't an in-between."
"Oh," Apple sighed. "Worth a shot. Let me know if you remember anything, though. Promise?"
"Promise." It wasn't exactly a hard thing to offer. From what little Sweetie knew about how the process worked, she was fairly confident it would never matter. She'd have to ask the bat engineer about where her “soul” was in the robotic body he'd built. Maybe he could add room for one in the next update, if he hadn't thought of putting it into her already.
"Got snacks!" Scootaloo hurried back in a few seconds later, balancing a plate of snacks on her back. "Borrowed these from your sister, Sweets. Sorry, she... made me promise not to let you have any." She settled them onto the empty place on Sweetie's desk, beside her photo-album.
"That's fine," she said. "Just having you two here is enough for me. You can tell me how good the apples taste."
"Great, obviously," Apple answered, without so much as biting one. "Rarity always buys from my sister, so I know they're good. We don't sell no junk fruit."
They arranged the cushions beside Sweetie's bed, so everyone had somewhere comfortable to sit. Technically Sweetie didn't need cushions—but not having them would've made her feel even shorter compared to her friends.
"Now, where to start," Scootaloo continued, once they were in place. "After the memorial, I guess. Let's not talk about that... too depressing. But it's over now. Anyway, you were around when Cozy Glow got turned to stone. But a few weeks after, there was this new loser that showed up..."
Sweetie Belle listened for hours, chatting with her old friends about all the crazy and amazing things that had happened in Equestria since her death. She ached in their defeats, thrilled in their victories, and more than anything else just wished she could've been there to help.
But thanks to a few new inventions, she would get to be there for the next adventures.
That was almost as good.
The End