The welling fog and dousing rain soured Spike’s mood irreparably. His plans for the day had been extinguished once the unexpected and unscheduled weathering storm had been initiated. A mix up amongst the weather team, an ill constructed cloud or impaired judgement during it placing, whatever the reason for the dour climate, the citizens of Ponyville were to suffer the consequences of somepony’s idiotic actions that afternoon, which would surely culminate in some form of reparation for the pony or ponies responsible.
Spike sighed against the glass, overcome by his weighing feelings of utter boredom and lingering contempt. Big Mac and he had discussed the possibility of hanging out that afternoon, which unfortunately could not come to pass considering the present circumstances. Instead, Spike had retreated to the confines of his room, and there he stayed in the company of gemstones, pillows and comic books, which all provided as much companionship as one could expect.
The crystal castle of Twilight Sparkle, despite its commendable and imposing size, somehow felt constricting to Spike. It wasn't at all like their previous home of the Golden Oaks Library, where he could simply yell down the stairs with Twilight promptly yelling back in response. Here? Amongst the glistening walls and sheer embellishments? He was lucky if he was even able to converse with Twilight anymore, an after effect of their continuing distancing relationship due to the amount of time she spent attending to her new pupil: Starlight Glimmer.
Even now, Twilight and Starlight were hard at work with something or another in the basement below. Spike was not excluded from joining them per say, but what else was there for him to do? Twilight used to include him in her experiments out of necessity, but now she possessed a similarly disciplined unicorn far more qualified for the tasks she so desired. Spike would be nothing more than an onlooker; an observer to gaze upon his surrogate work herself obsessively all in the name of knowledge. Knowledge which Spike did not care to partake in acquiring.
But whatever his feelings, Spike decided that simply sitting and watching was far better than wallowing in his abode alone.
He rose from his seat and habitably dusted himself off, waddling out of the room, down the steps and directly into the earth below, to the place Twilight Sparkle had christened her laboratory, which was mournfully similar to her prior one established beneath Golden Oaks. The damage to her previous iteration had not been extensive due to it lying protected beneath the ground during Lord Tirek’s attack, but some equipment had been lost and others were worse for wear. Salvaging what she could, Twilight had constructed a new area to study the mysteries of magic in private. The ceiling glistened white and the rock walls jaggedly pointing upwards as Spike waltzed through the door and gazed upon the various technological and elaborated embellishments within.
Spike came to a stop atop the hastily tiled floor, his tail stiffening along with his back as he came face to face with a waving Starlight Glimmer and, to his great shock, not one, but two Twilight Sparkle’s. Both turned to him with a smile, looking as pleased to see him as Pinkie Pie in a chocolate factory. “Spike, you're just in time!” Greeted the Twilight closest to Starlight, while the intricate copy continued to just smile dimly, subconsciously reminding Spike of one of Rarity's mannequins due to its general disposition.
Spike had walked in on enough of Twilight’s experiments for his surprise to quickly drain away. “So there's two of you now… That's neat I guess,” Spike responded with a shrug, walking on over to the giggling Starlight leaning on a desktop.
Twilight grumbled incoherently, shaking her head before turning back to her copy. “This isn't just neat, Spike! This is a development in duplication magic never before documented! Why, Canterlot’s best mages have never observed this level of individual expression from any kind of being constructed by magic before on record! Just think what Princess Celestia will have to say about this! And once we begin to study this further…”
“I take it you're about as excited as I am about this breakthrough?” Spike whispered to Starlight at his side.
Starlight covered her grin with her foreleg, whispering back in reply. “She created a magical duplication of herself and saw it blink without her prompting it to. Now she's convinced that it means all duplications are sentient.”
“Sent-ie what?” Spike blinked up at her.
“Sentient.” Starlight brought her hoof down. “If you're sentient it means that you're able to perceive, understand, feel things and act on your own accord. I'm sentient, you're sentient, Twilight is sentient, though she has her moments…” Starlight drolly finished as she saw Twilight peering into her doppelgänger’s eyes with some kind of medical instrument.
Starlight decided to intervene before Twilight started to become too invasive… There was a child present after all. “Twilight, I think you're blowing this way out of proportion. I mean, just because your copy blinked doesn't mean anything! It doesn't make it anything more than a conjuration-”
“Magical duplications of living subjects are animate only under the command of their originator.” Twilight barked out in interruption, silencing Starlight where she stood. “They only do what their creator wills them to do. I did not will this Twilight to do anything other than stand still, and what did it do instead? It blinked! It blinked right in my face! And how could it have done that unless it made the conscious choice to do so?”
“An involuntary action.” Diagnosed Starlight, approaching the pair of alicorns. “Ponies don't generally blink consciously, why would a copy be any different? You may have willed it by accident. It may have blinked to imitate a quirk inherent in its constructed memory. Maybe dust got in its eye! It doesn't mean it's alive, Twilight!”
“But what if she did more than just blink? What if we are able to get her to talk? Do something other than what I intended for it to do? What then?!”
“But it hasn't! It is just standing there because it is not capable of doing anything other than what you want it to do! You're not a miracle worker, Twilight. You can't create life with a flick of your horn-”
“Stop!” Cried Spike, standing between the two ponies, their faces having neared extensively during their altercation. Both looked down to him, their expressions noticeably softening in response to Spike’s disposition of annoyance at the situation. “Why in Equestria are you two yelling at each other? It's just a stupid magic… Thing! What's the point in yelling about it!” yelled Spike.
His confusion towards the situation only increased as the pair began to chuckle slightly, as did Twilight’s doppelgänger stood to the side, involuntary willed to do so by Twilight as she continued to laugh. “Oh, Spike,” cooed Twilight. “We're not mad at each other if that's what you think. Me and Starlight just get a little too invested when we debate, nothing personal.”
“Twilight’s right, Spike,” concurred Starlight. “Even though she's wrong,” she playfully, if snidely, added on.
Twilight’s smile slanted in response. “I suppose…” she exasperatedly began. “Even if I was right I need more evidence before I could even begin to theorise anything.” Her look turned distant, and she turned towards her doppelgänger as if it were a newborn foal. “But just think of the possibilities. A sentient duplicate of a pony; self-aware, conscious of its own existence, able to learn, able to develop. Imagine the greatest minds alive, like Princess Celestia or Princess Luna, imagine what they could do with access to a spell like that! Two of them, three of them at once! They could confer with an intelligence equal to their own. And what if ponies were able to create copies of other ponies? Imagine being able to construct a pony from memory! It would be like they never left! Nopony would ever really need to be alone again!”
“Now she's just creeping me out.” Spike whispered to the similarly dissuaded Starlight. “I mean creating sen-e-tent ponies from thin air would be cool and all, but couldn't somepony… You know, create bad ponies?”
“Hence why nothing we ever do down here is ever published,” answered Starlight. Though not for lack of trying she added in her thoughts. Deciding that Twilight had rambled on for an acceptable enough time, Starlight attempted to gain her attention away from her daydream of utopia.
“The practical applications alone are enough to dismiss the risk factors-”
“Twilight.”
“Though it has been documented that several versions of the same pony at once can lead to identity-”
“Twilight.”
“That and the ethical and moral objections and dilemmas would need to be addressed-”
“Twilight!”
Halting mid prance, Twilight held her hoof in the air and her wings spread at an uneven angle. Her face reddening beneath her coat. “I got carried away again didn't I?”
“Yep,” stated Starlight with a smirk.
“Well,” Twilight began, fiddling with her mane. “Sorry,” she promptly replied, returning to her prior position next to her duplicated image.
“The idea is interesting,” Starlight began as she similarly approached, while Spike deciding to seat himself upon a nearby desk. “But it needs time, Twilight. The answer may be accessible to us, but we just need to find it.”
“Wait wait, hold on,” interrupted Spike, drawing the attention of the pair yet again. “Let me get this straight, you're trying to create copies of ponies out of magic and instead of having them do everything you want will instead think on their own and do what they want to do?”
“Sentient ponies, yeah,” dimly replied Starlight.
“And neither of you see anyway that this can possibly go wrong?”
“Oh, Spike,” scoffed Twilight. “It's not like we're making evil clones of everypony or something like that. We're just experimenting! Besides, magical duplicates only last as long as they possess enough magic to sustain them, once they burn it all up they'll no longer exist.”
As if on que, the duplicated Twilight started to fade, it's body becoming more translucent with every waking moment. Spike was unnerved at the sight, the doppelgänger bore a resemblance to Twilight but it was not the same in the slightest, if anything it reminded him of a doll; still, cold to look and to touch. It's eyes held no light as they vanished from view along with the rest of its body, it's willed smile never faltering for a moment.
To Spike, it looked as if a version of Twilight had just been met with some horrible fate. To the real Twilight, she looked as if she had started to write with a quill that had just ran out of ink.
“Your copies last alot longer than mine do,” Starlight said with evident annoyance. “Guess you weren't exaggerating about those Alicorn talents,” she added under her breath.
“How long they last isn't the issue,” Twilight said as her horn began to well with magic once again. “It's what to do with them while we have them.” As her magical build up reached its peak, Twilight’s horn began to glow brightly, it's purple light reflecting off the walls. She looked to her companion, no discomfort brought on by her horn visible on her features. “So what do you think, Starlight? How do we grant an astral projection self awareness over its own existence?”
Holding a hoof to her chin, Starlight began to pace. Twilight often sought answers from her, even when Starlight suspected her teacher already knew the possible answers herself. She surmised after a point that this was perhaps Twilight's way of testing her without putting her under too much pressure, a gesture which Starlight greatly appreciated.
“You could take more time in casting the spell. The duplicate may undergo a more intricate development cycle which could broaden how much it takes after you, as it will have more time to accumulate everything that makes a pony… a pony.” She stated unsurely, dissuaded by Twilight’s possibly dismissive head tilt.
“Possible. But by taking longer to cast the spell the likelihood of imperfections or deformities are likely to rise, aren't they?” Twilight hid her smile well as Starlight fumbled out a reply.
“Well, yeah,” Starlight responded awkwardly. “Okay! What if you increase your magical output when performing the spell? It will give the duplicate more time to exist, and a continued exposure to stimuli may prompt an individual response!”
“Another possibility,” Twilight stated surely again, her horn continuing to glow brightly. “But I want to try something more permanent, we can't just expect every new duplicate to achieve sentience on its own every time we conjure one up.” Twilight halted her pace and looked to Starlight with a knowing grin. “So, what do you think I'm looking to achieve, Starlight?”
Smacking her hooves together, Starlight grinned as a thought formed rapidly. “You don't want a duplicate to achieve sentience over time, you want it to know what it is from the moment it exists! You want to find a way to cast the spell and have the duplicate be self-aware from the instant it's there!”
Twilight nodded with rampant approval. “That may be the only way available to us,” she spoke with a smile, her horn starting to glow strong again as her magic began to swell. “And I was thinking this; I concentrate. I project myself onto my duplicate as hard as I can as I conjure it. I construct it so delicately that it doesn't just resemble me in body but in mind to, personality, thoughts, memories and all.”
“Ahem,” mockingly coughed the present Spike, his face ridden with an unamused expression. “So yeah, could somepony explain to the non-magic casting dragon how you're just going to project your entire personality onto a lifeless blob of magic that looks like you?” Folding his arms with a scoff, Spike looked to Starlight inquisitively as she rubbed her neck in anticipation at Twilight's readying of the spell.
“It's difficult to explain, Spike,” Starlight stated, uncomfortable in her ability to convey what was happening. “Unicorn’s need to visualise what they want in order to use their magic. Say I wanted to levitate something or teleport somewhere, I have to picture in my head the outcome to what I want, focus on it, and then concentrate on it until it happens, the more you practice the easier it becomes.”
“So in order to achieve a copy capable of thinking for itself, Spike, I need to create a duplicate like me in every way, not just in looks, but in memory, the very essence of what makes me me. I'm a living, sentient creature, and if this works-”
“You'll create another you, one that thinks like you!” Spike exclaimed with a gasp.
“And one that's capable of learning like you,” Starlight added on as she backed away from the magic swirling around Twilight. “Being able to learn is one of the many things that proves a pony is conscious, it means you can change, evolve beyond what you're expected to be.”
The magic in Twilight's horn flashed brilliantly, beaming out onto the floor in front of where she was stood. Starlight and Spike shielded themselves as the magic continued to grow, with Starlight noting that the spells casting was far more violent than any of their prior attempts, perhaps due to Twilight's increased level of concentration. Through the cloud of magic, a figure began to form, it's silhouette growing until Spike and Starlight could not distinguish it in anyway from the Twilight continuing to cast the spell. Her vast reserves of ascended Alicorn magic allowed Twilight to prolong herself in way far beyond even the highest level unicorns, but within time her spell completely dissipated, leaving the trio confronted by a princess doppelgänger stood as still as any statue.
They stared towards it hopefully, Twilight ensuring that she kept her thoughts clear to not unintentionally compromise the experiment. They were waiting. Waiting for the duplicate to do something, something other than what Twilight wanted. But as the seconds drolly passed them by, the group grew disheartened, and Twilight found herself cringing as she rose her left foreleg high, only for her copy to do the same, as if she was staring at a reflection.
Clicked her lips at the evident failure, Starlight approached her teacher with slanted shoulders. “Well, Twilight, it was worth a try. I mean it's not like this is unmarked magical territory or anything.” She jokingly said, attempting to lift Twilight's dampened spirits.
The princess was undeniably disappointed as the duplicate just continued to stare back at her blankly. She had been so sure. “I know, it's just… I thought that...”
“We thought wrong. But we didn't think wrong yesterday and we probably won't think wrong tomorrow. Speaking of which, Spike, is it still raining?” Starlight stated as she began to walk towards the door with the dragon in tow.
“It was when I came down. I don't suppose Rainbow Dash has mentioned to either of you whose fault the weather is?” Spike replied humorously, his arms reaching behind his neck.
The two continued to converse the higher they paced up the steps and before long Twilight decided to join them, having endured all she could for one day in the practice of magic. She decided not to expend any more magic conjuring the apparated Twilight away, elected to just leave it to fade over time. It was after all, a lifeless, subservient projection devoid of mind or soul, with its only defining trait being the imitation of another pony’s appearance. It would not harbour any hard feelings at being left down here as it was, indubitably, incapable of feeling.
Her hoofs met the steps and the door to the lab swung shut behind her, locking it was unnecessary as nopony was likely to try and enter it unannounced. Twilight simply left it as it was and went on her way, the growing sensation in her stomach informing her that it was time for dinner, or lunch, whatever was appropriate for the hour.
She was not aware that within the pitch black room behind her, unbound by lock or obedience, that the projected image of herself was not stood as still as a statue, no longer held its hoof in the air as it had been willed to do and failed to show an expression devoid of emotion. It's hoof met the ground and its vacant look vanished.