Catalyst 2.0: Nothing (pt.3)

>Subtlety, you assumed, had been one of Twilight's strong points.  What a facetious lie that was, or just a neat and decadent show of respect toward the p0ny you would soon be standing in front of.  The conference room spared little in the way of resources, and the simultaneous garish display of it.
>Pads, ringed blue at their base and the size of a hoof, rested beneath a perfectly clear, flat surface.  They began to project, the room darkening, and soon you were lit with faces unfamiliar and supposedly iconic.  All around you, the distant place Twilight and her “peers” occupied became real in vision only.
>You hadn't seen such a perfect representation within holograms.  All around you, living illusions blossomed and began to glow, even the softest of movements captured in the laser accurate, 3-d display.  Your heartbeat was tangible and distracting, clattering in synthetic ribs.
>Gilda, on the other hand, merely cracked her neck as the ghosts arose around you.  What *wasn't* she used to?
>It took no more than five seconds before the images cleared.  The entire room was one massive projector, and there had to be dozens of the expensive single ones.  Not to mention calibration for angle, color, integration programs to form the image...
>What exactly had you gotten into?
>Before you, stood the ruler of everything you had come to know of Equestria.  She was completely unfamiliar, though gorgeous and pronounced in stature.  Every color, every angel and gentle curve of her natural form was provided to you thanks to the decadent chamber.
>Anticipation, fear.  Enforced respect, hemorrhaging from the benevolent stigma even Twilight regarded her with, had left you first in awe.
>Yet, in seeing her, despite all you had heard, all you had presumed her to be capable of...
>Just like you, she was merely real.
>She smiled.  “I've only seen holographs of you.” she said, her towering form peering down at you. “I'm glad I have a chance to see you in as vivid a manner as this.”
>The thought that you could simply enter the local pings to change your look came to mind.  Screwing with her in that regard could even be fun.  That wasn't the point, though, was it?
“I could say the same about you, though I honestly haven't researched enough to know what to really expect out of you.  I've been a bit busy with what I'm forced to call a life.”
>Her gentle expression faded, and she peered aside.  From the corner of your eye, the glow of the her figure allowed you to catch Gilda's suppressed smirk.  Though you couldn't remember much, you knew she didn't care for the ruler in front of you.  She merely respected the equine's position, nothing more.
>Twilight was unamused.
>Fuck her.
>Though, when you thought that, you had to wonder if she'd added anything to your chassis that would make her enjoy it.  That would have suited her.
>”If this is your attitude, then may I ask one thing?”  Celestia's speech had a way of suffocating the ideas of the others, it seemed.  Even Gilda stiffened up when she talked, making careful plays with her body language to exhume what care she had and present it as natural.
>She just didn't want to get screwed over, you realized.  You knew that feeling all too well, especially from the collars.
“Go ahead.”
>”Why are you here before me today?”
>You inhaled.  You exhaled.  You closed your eyes while you spoke.  You were in no mood to play the cool one, but what choice was there?
“Because I like to think this isn't just idle politics.”
>”That's superb- because they are not.  This is a safety and life issue, not just simple words.  We must ask a few questions of Gilda, first... So I'm afraid we'll have to endure.”
>Hypocrisy.
>Whatever.  You could cope.  It wasn't like you had an idea of how they'd try to dissect you anyway.  Letting them talk might give you some idea.
>”Gilda.” Twilight said.
>”Yes ma'am?” She replied, with all the rigid stance of a soldiers standing flourish.
>You were in attendance for most of the attacks.”
>”Yes ma'am.”
>”Where, exactly?”
>”The Crystal District.  The embassy area, to be exact.  Unmonitored construction zone was the landing point- a big lot of crystal and some synthetic hills, at the far western pass.”
>”You were there for the atrocity at the tower.”
>”With my brother, yes.”
>Atrocity? Did it really warrant that strong a word?
>”... Brother?” Celestia asked.
>Gilda looked toward you.  She gave a jab to your shoulder.  She had visibly held back, but that did not stop it from hurting almost immediately.  Badly, too.  You didn't let the tears escape.
>”It's a griffon custom.”
>”If you would be so kind... I regret I'm not familiar with them, to the extent a griffon would be.”
>Gilda visibly frowned.  Her brow lifted and she drew air over a curled tongue.  She was... Displeased.  Yeah, that was the kind word.  At least she kept it together, for her own sake.
>”Any creature that proves themselves reliable in combat can be initiated as a brother to the squadron.  Anonymous did so in many ways.”
>”What did that entail, exactly?”
>”Wounds.” Gilda said.  “Non fatal, but very, very painful.  Outsiders are submitted to them.  If they still act on the squadron's behalf, or still able to fight, they are considered to be family.”
>”... I meant the reason you even allowed a pony into your squad. If I recall, griffons have an... Unfortunate set of differences when it comes to custom.”
>”My mistake.” Gilda's cheeks drew taut as she swilled some immaterial flavor in her mouth, and swallowed. “We allowed him into the squad at Luna's order.”
>You didn't remember that.  Not one bit.
>”My sister?”
>”Yup.”  She went onward to extrapolate, without any prompting.  She really wanted her part to be over with quickly, didn't she? “She said she would provide us with a tool to stop a specific, elusive target.  When he arrived, we were all worried and a bit pissed- uh... Unimpressed.”
>”You didn't trust her judgement?”
>”We didn't trust *him*” she admitted.  “When he showed up, it was with four units.  Pseudo ponies.  We thought they were just really smart drones.”
>”And he proved you wrong.”
>”His surviving chassis did, yes.”  Gilda gave you one quick, offhand glance with the rotation of her eye. Her pupil widened at you, refracting some of the light in a spooky blue shine. “Three were kill... Sorry, 'destroyed.'”
>”You can be honest in how you speak, Gilda.” Celestia said. She was not smiling, but her voice retained the soothing, motherly bass.  “That is what you're here for.”
>”Fine.” Gilda said, bouncing the ridge of her eyes. “Three were killed in combat.  One, however, was a little more resourceful than any one of us gave him credit for.”
>Celestia asked her after an empty pause.  The only movement was her head turning to face the lawyer girl pony, whom upon further inspection had lost small details of her appearance to some unseen exertion.  ”How many 'brothers' and 'sisters' did you have?”
>”Ten, including myself.  Fourteen if you include the drones Luna gave us.”
>”And where are they now?”
>”... Do I really need to answer that?”
>”It's rather important... We may have more witnesses to the events, and-”
>”Nope.  I know there wouldn't be.”  Celestia was unperturbed by the interruption.  Or, so you hoped. The moment Gilda had spoken, your chest grew several sizes too small.  Not now, Gilda...
>The griffon resettled how she was sitting.  Rolling her rump about on the ground, you could see her talons clenching the ground, her feline feet stretching to expose the nails.
>She was pissed.
>”You're certain?”
>”Well, yeah.” Gilda said. “Alastair got shot in the head by a five-point-five-six.  We poured his brains out into a MRE tray and piled some crystal on him for a burial.  Algernon got his beak pulled off.  He lived, but got some kind of crystal infestation. Had to put him down without the right meds.  Nasty work that was.”
>”I understand, you don't need to continue.”
>”You sure?” Gilda raised a brow. “Because I can.” She elbowed your side, and you jostled.
>She wanted to include you in this?!
>”One of his drone bodies got sucked into an airship engine.  Well, it was more like he dove in.  Said something about how the bones were reinforced and would gum it up.  Worked too.”
>Twilight interjected. “Gilda, we aren't here for the... small details.”
>”But why, boss? They're so good, and there are so many.”
>Twilight tapped a hoof on the table.  “What were you doing there?” she asked, trying to redirect Gilda's very swiftly approaching outburst.
>”It was an extermination run.  Find a target, kill or capture.  Strangest one we ever had.”
>”Really?” Celestia asked again.  “I was under the impression the Sky Hunters were quite experienced.”
>Gilda craned her neck at Celestia.  Jesus christ, she was at least trying to be respectful not five minutes ago.  You couldn't even remember what the squad- or even you yourself- had done in dying that would drive her memories to inspire such disdain.
>Then again, you had never actually asked her about what you had done with them. You didn't even remember getting the scars...  Or ever being deployed. Or anything, for that matter, before crushing Vinyl's nose.
>This was getting educational.  Not that you wanted to learn the particulars, or be attached to them without having a reason behind it.
>”We were.  It was still weird.  It wasn't a living target.”
>”So you were sent specifically to destroy the Crystal Tower.”
>”Hell no. We were sent after some kind of... Entity.”  Gilda waved a claw about in the air, a quick and elegant circle.  It seemed to stir her thoughts. “Uh, like, kill or capture it.  But it wasn't substantial, wasn't alive.  When we saw the name we didn't believe it, but a job was a job.”
>Twilight rested her hoof.  “Nightmare Moon.”
>”Yeah.” Gilda said. “We got the details on how we'd need to do it, which was odd as anything could be.  I don't think we really could have killed her as she was in the first place, to be honest.”
>”You couldn't.” Twilight said. She looked to the other mare. “I'm guessing your employer expected you to react when you found out.  Huh, Trixie?”
>The pony you then knew as Trixie sighed. “That is not the case, Twilight. It was-”
>”Oh no, we could kill the bitch for sure.” Gilda intervened.  When Twilight and Celestia looked back, both of them quite confused for some reason, Gilda held up an upturned talon to you.
>Whoa.  Hold on a second.  Not in front of the only thing that can make Twilight's decisions for her, Gilda.
>”At least in one way.  While she had something digital corrupted.  When she was in the system, she was a program.  He was the equipment that could 'delete' it.  Luna sent him to finish the job if we couldn't contain her.”
>”So,” Twilight asked.  “What stopped him?”
>”Well for one,” Gilda slid a knuckle of her talon beneath her beak. “She had taken control of a bunch of rotten ass drones.  They were all armed, and when we found out had to deploy a bunch of dropships just to secure a proper working area for at least two weeks.”
>”So you were prepared for an extended stay.” Celestia said.  “Did you even stop to consider where you trespassing with weapons?”
>”Hey, it was a job from LunaCorp. Employee no. 2 out of the three million.” Gilda said. “We had no idea how long it would take either.  Besides, we kind of got shot at on the way down, and had no reason to think we should keep the safety on.”
>Great. Fine. Neat.  You wondered if Gilda would throw a dick size comparison in there, if for nothing more than to be thorough.
>”It was a direct order to take down that tower anyway.”
>Trixie wilted in her chair.  You got the feeling she didn't deserve whatever it was Gilda was about to further expose.
>”That was Luna's decision, not the Sky Hunters.”
>Celestia's ears flicked.  Twilight's head turned away from Trixie, locking on to Gilda with a barely functioning jaw. “And you didn't think this was relevant to the first interview I did with you?”
>Gilda put both claws to the ground, and laid down. Her tail swayed above her rump, between the slits of that heavy Firmware's coat.  “You never actually asked why, boss.” Gilda replied. “You were too concerned with how HE got back here.” The griffon gestured toward you with her head.  “You say that like I trusted you with the info anyway.  I mean, where would I be now if I didn't hold a few more cards, huh?”
>”What was that?”
>Gilda took the opportunity to roll her eyes. “Oh come on, boss.  You're the one trying to squeeze an employee for a very rare resource.  You really think you'd be the first?” She crossed her forelimbs over one another, tapping at one of her joints with a single sharp claw.  “Hell, the disciplinary actions in the contract are lucid dreams compared to what the Sky Hunters do if you don't log bathroom breaks.  That's why you even let me on the roster, right?”  She grinned back. “Because I'm a bitch.  Well, boss, a bitch is worth a thousand words.”
>Twilight squinted.  “Well, since you're so keen on what's been going on- How exactly did YOU make it out, hm?”
>Gilda, at that point, was barely paying attention.  You let out a sick and unbelieving sigh when she produced an energy bar from the folds of her coat, snipping the wrapper with her beak.  She stuffed her face with half of it, and gave a pathetic verbal riposte. “Iunno.” she said, chewing.
>”What?”
>”Well, that was a bit of a leap wasn't it?  I'm still under that contract by LunaCorp.  After all, it wasn't until the bag or tag order was completed that the contract was fulfilled.”
>Trixie had her head between her hooves, staring at the table.  She lifted one, waving it about. “Just... Just tell her.  The convention overrides the contract here.”
>”Mm-kay.” she said.  She gave a loud and careless gulp.  You turned away from her, drawing your tongue over your lips before sticking out your jaw.  Smooth, Gilda.  Real smooth.
>”Iunno.” Gilda finally said.
>Her reply was met with a cacaphony of silent confusion.
>”When Nightmare realized what we were doing, she hopped out of the system.” she said.  “The Sky Hunters knew something was up the moment the defense systems stopped trying to murder us.” She finished off the energy bar in a second gulp while the trio waited.
>You didn't like where this was going, either.
>Gilda drew her tongue over her beak a few times.  She waited for a very, very long time; her augmented lungs let her peruse the expressions, breathlessly.
>Gilda... What did you-
>”I'll tell you, but first I have a question.” She finally said.  “What is it like to watch a friend while they die?”
>”I fail to see the relevance-”
>Gilda took one quick, chalkboard-screech along the floor with her talons.  Every creature but her and Celestia twitched in place.  She held the claw steady, tap-tap-tapping away at the projector floor.  “Answer the bucking question or I exercise my contractual obligations.”
>”That...” Twilight released a corrosive and indignant grunt.  “That's none of your business.”
>”You're right, I guess.  Considering your history with that kind of thing.” Surprised, you looked over her serene figure.  The curves, hidden below the coat, revealed nothing.  Her tail, however, shot back and forth.  “Okay.  Here's a more precise one.  What's it like to KILL a friend?”  She held up the claw, wiggling those razors to gleam in what little light there was.
>Twilight looked back to you.  Your eyes felt delicate, then.  Her violet gaze punctured you like a syringe, slicing into the back of your mind.  Don't look at me like that, you thought.  I don't remember a damn thing.
>”It defies description.” Twilight said.
>That was not the answer Gilda wanted to hear.  You had to take a step to the side as she rose.  You could *feel* her growling.  So quiet it defied the ears, the vibration was keen.  Powerful.
>”The defenses stopped.  The doors cracked like glass.  The turrets stopped trying to shred us into pieces.  Nightmare figured us out, and jumped the system integrated into the tower just before we fragged it.”  Gilda tilted her head.  Gilda unzipped the front of her coat.
>She drew a line down the glittering, jelly scar.  Her already gritty voice drew across the beak in a sound that could strip flesh- sandpaper, for the ears.  “Guess where she went?”
>Trixie pushed back on the desk. One hoof went to her head, before she limply shook it.  Twilight relinquished, growing weak enough that she had to lean back.  Celestia, still oh so wise and stoic, dared not move.
>”Yeah.  Yeah, that's what I bucking thought.”  Gilda continued.  “She didn't let me keep the fights. That would have been too kind, I suppose.  The faces, though? Well, if you remember them from before you're taken, you know what they look like when they're screaming for you to stop.”
>”Griffon's can't get corrupted.  Not without accomplishing a duality synthesis for the anatomy.” Twilight, still in disbelief, closed her eyes and rejected the very notion with a quick shake of her head.  It brought Gilda to stand.
>”For everything unholy- Your griffon toys aren't perfect! We have souls.”
>Gilda, just stop. Please, if you value-
>”Your body turns into a prison.  You shriek and you claw and you cry.”  She looked at her talons again, wagging the fingers before herself.  “Wasn't even magic.” she said.  “It was all the uplink.”
>Jesus.
>If that were true, what would she have done to YOU?
>Is that why you couldn't remember?
>”How did you make it out alive, Gilda?” Twilight asked.  “I know some of what happened.  She left you like she did the tower.  We need the details.”
>”I don't know.” Gilda responded curtly.  “No... That's not true.  I survived because I'm not one of you ponies.”  She tore the food wrapper to shreds with her claw. “I'm a bitch. That's how.  I was left there, cut wide open and with my entire nervous system screaming from the disconnection.  But I was awake.”
>”But how, Gilda?” Twilight asked.  The trading glances kept going back to you, accusatory and focused.  The chill of their attention seemed like a greasy lather.  Of all the things Gilda could have done... Of all the options, the perfect lies she could have concocted that they would have readily invested in, she granted you no such boon that time.
>Instead, she looked directly at you.
>A burrowing, seething stare, she drew breath through her nostrils repeatedly.
>”He earned his place in the Sky Hunters that day.”  She said.  She flopped back down, her tail slapping the floor before coiling around like a charged, severed wire.  She shunned every approach afterwards, lost her her own visions as they replayed on the wall.
>”I see...” Celestia said.
>You grimaced.  The pain had sharpened upon the sound of her voice.
>”So then, I suppose it comes to you.”
“I-I have no real idea.”
>Twilight brushed frazzled mane from her eyes.  She tumbled into momentary peace, leaning so low her breath could condense upon the table.
“I mean that literally.  I honestly don't know-”
>Twilight interrupted you.
“He's not lying.  He's here because he MIGHT have had some inkling.  Unless we can get him defragmented,  I... I'm sorry, princess.” She sighed. “I hoped we could talk some sense into him to get him on that endeavor.”
>Twilight.
>You unmerciful, poisonous *cunt.*
>”Yes...” Celestia said.  “I can see how it would be disturbing for something... A pony, like him.”
“What the hell did you just say about me?”
“Pardon?” Celestia said.
>The room itself moved to ogle you.  The walls staring with inward pressure, you felt yourself standing taller.  You could taste the air, their eyes only fueling you.
>”What?” Twilight turned back to you.
“No no, not you.”
>You pointed at Celestia.
“Her.”
>You ignored the regal ivory mare with another shove of your hoof forward.  Twilight retreated slightly, as your words came with holographic jabs of your leg.
“I did this to try and see just how I could help.  Not get fucking ignored.”
>Amazed, Twilight took some time in her mental compost to piece together a reply.  “Anonymous, please. You're in the presence of a ruler.  MY ruler, and teacher.  If I hadn't learned what I did from her, you'd not be with us today in any respect.”
>Trixie mirrored Twilight.  The violet pony seemed rather surprised she had even spoken up.  “Indeed.  Without her, none of what you are would even exist.”
>You twitched where you sat.  Looking back into your own head, the words sparked the kindling.  Not allowing yourself to glance back, you merely watched the projectors glow.
“Wasn't I human once? Did she ever have domain over that?  Maybe it was the first or second time you pulled me from the grave.”
>A worse idea prompted you to flee into panic.  You did not.
“With the way you treat me, I'm starting to think that 'being nice' is just something that was put in there as a subroutine.  I never did do anything to the men that got to Rarity.  Was that put in my head?”
>Gilda chortled, as if she knew a little secret.  You wanted to hate her, too, but for some reason couldn't let yourself.  What was it?  Oh, right.  She had the same perspective you did.
>The world seemed to end right then and there.  Not with some catastrophic yowl of explosions, but more like someone had turned off a switch.  When you visually went between them, you found their eyes held no answer.  They were looking to yours.  Perfect.  Just goddamn perfect.
>There was nothing any of you could say that could have this turn out as peacefully as you had hoped.
“I don't appreciate what's been done to me.  It's happened, though, and I'm coping as best I can.  I'm only here because of luck and persistence on *my* part- If that can't be respected, I see no reason why I should show anything of the sort as some expected social gravy to a ruler that's only had a misconception of control over me or her subjects.”
>A jumble of choked and shocked protests came. Gilda, surprised at first, restraining a chuckle behind a snort.  Celestia did not allow you the pleasure of a reaction.  “Growin' some baaaaalls.” Gilda cooed to you, in a dulcet whisper from the corner of her beak.
>Even through the murk of the holographic connection, you could make out Twilight's AR spinning a diagnostic  within her eyes.  It took a few seconds to arrive.  Even less to eye the control ping within Gilda's coat, and ensure it had enough memory capacity to suit you.  It had three times what you needed.
>The illness set in beneath a dull and chittering chime.  Your body began to fill with an uploaded oxycodone.  Only another subroutine, you found upon a quick analytic, you hadn't known Twilight had such a thing in her reservoir of tricks.  A simple control mechanism, the effects it had quickly faded, and made the brain in the chassis think it was suffering from the withdrawl.
>What you had known, however, was Twilight's nature. She was no fool. She would have, and with that play, had exposed what she'd prepared for exactly the kind of insubordination you were performing.  You were the mark 2- having a precaution in place for what you were doing was only natural if what the first one had done was so frightening to them.   No preparation was absolute, though.
>You shunted into Gilda's node.  From what you saw in your own monitors, what you felt in that oily and dark place before you accessed her ocular implants, Gilda herself noticed.
>Yet... She didn't try to defend against it once you arrived.
>She wanted to hear what you were to say as much as you did, it would seem.
>Your body, still standing but limp in comatose sleep, lingered in the hologram. You could see yourself from the corner of her eyes, the strange and unmoving reflection giving you the sense of distance upon yourself.  It did not, however, have any bearing on what you'd wanted to say.
>Gilda was being so kind, especially with what she'd just said about Nightmare.  She even let down her firewalls for you, allowing you easy access to the connection to the holograph room once she realized you were in.
>You had to wait, though. The processor in the system was good; everything seemed so lethargic to your sped up thoughts.  You had to produce garbage data for the chip to busy itself with, just to retain your grip on what “real time” was.  It felt a little like vomit, only it was something you could produce constantly.
>Whatever the hell Gilda used in order to hear, you could glean the words and enunciation clear as day through them.  You were somehow alone inside her chip. Riding her like a twisted, aware virus.
>You thanked her in text.  You could *feel* her, smiling, however odd and tight it was at the corners of your perceived cheeks.
>When you returned to real time, Twilight was verbally catching up to her upload.  ”Anonymous, don't question this. She controls the entire power output of the world.  She has control over the operation of our existence- and yours.” Twilight squinted at you.  You had the thought that she might be admonishing you in quiet text messages through eyes you were no longer present within to witness.
>You wanted to stay serene.  To remain in a place of intense strength, tempering your logic.  That single motion on Twilight's part, that digital attack...
>In her doing so, the peaceful words didn't deserve to be spoken.
>You could hear yourself clear as day when you spoke into AR hearing reaching out over the system to allow the words to slither into their minds.  Your code kept that much in some form of solidity.  How could it not, being what you were?
“She absolutely does not.”
>It registered in Twilight's face like a nocturnal terror made real. Her head turned, the shapes and text in her eyes winking out from distraction.  Yeah, you thought.  I'm fine, Twilight.  But you?
>You fucked up.
“She's going to hear me, weather or not she wants to.  And you can't stop me, Twilight.  The technology has outpaced any kind of leadership you can contrive- Chrysalis, Nightmare, and even me are living proof of that.”
>You were losing friends in such an acceleration it grew form.  It became fear and inward spite, knowing the things you were to say would label you.  Not just in your own mind, either.
>At your original words, Celestia perked visibly.  Good, you thought.  At least she's paying attention.  It wasn't hers, though, that you were interested in.
“Here I am, ready to be the nice guy again.  Despite everything happening to my daughter and lover, I was willing to pull myself away just to take in what you had to say.  And all you want to do is say I'm defective, for the sake of every other pony out there.  Just like always.”
>It wasn't Twilight that accousted you first.  She was too lost at trying to figure out how you were still audibly resistant. “And why not?” Trixie asked you. “You are the one that last saw Nightmare.  You beat her somehow, and now you're proving the most difficult obstacle in-”
“I'm the only one on your side that could do it, blah blah blah.  That's the point.  You didn't do it yourselves.”
>”What is that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked.
“I don't know Celestia. I don't know who Trixie is. I know they don't speak for most ponies.  The ponies I did get to know, though, were the ones on the street.  We shared an awfully intimate moment, they and I.”
>”A violent minority.  Don't you lump them in with ponies like us.  You know you would never be intentionally hurt.” Trixie tried defending not just herself, but the other ponies in the room. Gilda's vision turned to a crescent, allowing you to see only through her squint.  Twilight had told her about that?
>The revelation did not improve your mood.  Nor did the fact she was talking about you like some prized project, when you didn't even recognize who she was.
“Then you know they ruined my lover.  She's incapable of speech without the technology YOU gave us, Twilight.  The ponies out there use it every day and in every thing, then ignore the idea that they're trying to murder it's most vivid beneficial representations for the sake of some idiotic and violent comfort.  They smiled, when they crushed Rarity's nose and twisted her legs apart.”
>You wanted to scream without lungs. You wanted to narrow eyes you didn't have. You wanted to feel heat and hate and your own smoldering skin.
>But it was only the system.  Biological sensations were only faux luxuries.
“Tell me, Twilight- why should I respect the wishes of an icon for the ones brutalizing my lover, and if given the chance, would do the same to my own daughter?”
>Twilight's mouth opened and closed several times. Sounds came out, but did not weave into words.  Trixie, aghast, attempted to argue yet again.  “That is the most hateful, selfish thing- what about the ones that haven't done anything to you?  They stand to lose the same things you do!”
>Somehow, you'd laughed through the audio filters.  It silenced her.
“Is that so? They all get the kind of looks I do? They're all relegated to living in a single room, and told “not to wander off, or else?” I'm self-centered for wanting to change that same future for my daughter?  Well, I guess that makes me the bastard.  I can live with that.”
>You waited.  Twilight glowered, her AR showing how she was searching for you in engines and sending out messages.  Really? Were you that hard to find in what you thought was so obvious a place? Gilda shouldered the burden of sending the constantly changing port openings to you, pretending to move in discomfort at the conversation.  You could feel probes shimmying off her privacy firewalls, like a nest of skittering insects.
>She was still having fun, it seemed.  Perhaps it wasn't just the pseudo's, in her mind, you were representing.
“This was never about her.  It was about my daughter.  It was about my ponies.”
>”YOUR ponies?” Twilight scowled. “What makes you think they're separate from ponykind? What about the good things you represent?  What about integrating- what Rarity has tried to cultivate through your example? If you're so different, then what about your responsibilities to preserve that?”
“There never were any, Twilight.  You know that.  I did what I did out of what little good I believed I had in me.  Not what control programs and collars tried to enforce.  Now that I've gotten the chance to see what I've saved, the only positive thing around is Rarity and Sweet Heart.  Everything else is disappointing or cruel.”
>She positively fumed.  You took only a moment to distill Celestia's form in the hologram.  Swiveling color in long lines of blooming light, her hair had fallen over one side of her face.  She knew where this was going.
>Good for her.
“I'm not your pet, I'm not your toy, I'm not just a program.  I'm selfish and a bastard and can fall in love, and that means I'm at least an individual.  But not once did you actually ask how I felt about what happened.  Now, you just want me to do things for everypony else's sake.  Again.  Only this time it's over the slew of ponies wanting to break Rarity's legs for the sake of amusing their ego.”
>”That wasn't some sinister agenda everypony took part in.” Twilight said.  “What happened to you was tragic, not intentional. Don't take out whatever sick angst you have on everypony else.”
“You certainly didn't want it. I know that. Celestia's subjects were the ones more than happy to oblige in that respect.  Unless things change, I have no reason to think my daughter is going to deprived of the “real” ponies hospitality for us.   You're asking me to preserve lives that would revile, beat, and forsake a mother they didn't even know for the sake of their own entertainment.”
>Twilight slammed her front hooves down upon the table.  “This isn't about you or her! This is about the way of life we have! If Nightmare is still out there, she's going to take control of everything. She's going to kill Sweet Heart anyway!  Or worse- use her as a bucking proxy to spread.  She'll lose her mind!  There won't be a future if we don't ensure Nightmare is gone!”
>Oh, Twilight. She always did know which buttons to push.  It's too bad that you had the ability to think at the speed of one of her processors while shunted.  You let the world slow again, and the action allowed you minutes of time before her spit even landed to gather up a more durable retort.
“I don't want to have any pony die over me.  Not one.  But I guess I've gotten a little jaded with all I've been put through.  I mean, I did die, and it just seems like every one of the ponies has forgotten that.”
>”At least you can see some reason to-”
“Did you ever think you could stop her without me?”
>”Well of course. We'd have to at least try.” Twilight shook her head, dragging her hooves back along the table in a grinding and hollow shriek.  Trixie regarded her with an almost frightened glance, trading it between the screen and the violet pony.  “There could be security protocols, new programs... But she's already proven she's both.  She could work around anything we could design.”
“And so you rely on me.”
>She sighed, throaty and frustrated.  ”You've already shown that you're trustworthy with Chrysalis.  So yes, we want you to help because it's been proven as far as a method goes.  To do that, we have to see exactly what you did to halt her in the first place.”
“Well, I'll help then. In a way.  I suppose.”
>She glanced back with a start.  Her slumped shoulders leaned back, her hooves finally in her lap, and had a wide eyed stare from outside the screen.
“You're so dependant, you need a bit of a wake up call.  So, I'm going to do the most horrifying, stupid thing I can think of to leave you in a place where YOUR ponies, will have the chance to stop her yourselves.  Maybe then the pseudo's like me will get a little more attention on what good we do, by the rest of Celestia's subjects.”
>Gilda's eyes were misting, making the entire scene difficult to observe.  You had the sensation that she was smiling again, even while she started to hold back those tears.  Sis must be so proud, you thought.
>Twilight lowered her eyes at you. They turned to slits, and every bit of digital light in her oculars faded.  You could *taste* the hateful miasma flowing from the deep violet corneas.  “I swear to Celestia, if you so much as think to hurt any of us-”
“Do you really think I have that in me? No.”
>”So what then? What would you possibly do to us?”  Her spittle laced sarcasm was decorated with barely contained spite.
“You mean if Nightmare turns out to be alive?”
>Thoughts flashed through the processor you were on.  The images you wanted to imagine bled into Gilda's vision, edged with indistinct fuzz. Ideas on what Rarity's body would look like.  Mental sketches of what Sweet Heart would do, how she would appear, infused with vile programs raping her sentience.
>It was barely as bad as what you'd already seen lying in that hospital bed, or the questions you'd have to answer to Sweet Heart back in the penthouse.
>”That's what this is all about, Anonymous.” Twilight said.  “You're only adding more and more worries to us.  We do feel sorry for you, but this needs to be done.  We only want to find and stop her, if it's even necessary. Not have another very dangerous construct on our hooves.  You... You're not giving us much to go on that you're otherwise right now.  And you're all there is that would be willing to do it in the time frame.”
>Rarity, you thought. I'm so sorry for this.  Sweet Heart...  Daddy's not going to be around much longer if Twilight doesn't want him to be.
“Then I have no choice.  I have to help.”
>Twilight let out the breath she had been holding.  Trixie fell to the table, hooves at her face, as she relaxed.  Celestia bit her lower lip and turned away.  She was, at least, still aware you weren't finished.
“But, I know what you did to the griffons with that same choice I'm grappling with.  I remember one or two things from my time with Gilda, so I know what happened to them. Until the psuedo's are treated properly, through enforcement if necessary, I'm going to do what the griffon's would have done if they had known you were going to treat *them* so poorly after the purge.”
>Twilight's jaw clenched. Trixie looked up over her hooves. Celestia put a hoof to the side of her head, then turned to walk away.  Twilight began to talk through gritting teeth. “And what is that? Huh?”
>It would have been impossible to say if you'd been capable of real, physical fear while in the system.  Or, if the text in Gilda's AR hadn't cheered you on, and asked you to delete the logs.
“The same thing I did when I finally came back to the tower.”
>You went back to how you let Twilight put that collar on you.  The way you thought it would help you to appear acceptably meek and casual.
“Absolutely,”
>How it started to burn, deep into your neck, when Gilda came back into your life on that wake up call. The way Rarity's first reaction was to tear it's smoldering surface from your flesh, regardless of the burns she might have suffered herself, and tried to cater to every wound.
“Positively,”
>The way you took a second collar anyway, and had been helpless while she'd been beaten to threadbare life.  The things you would have to say to Sweet Heart.
>You managed to synthesize a murmur in the AR.  A whisper, drawn languidly across a razor.  Letting it float to a warm spot in their thoughts, in which it could comfortably bleed to death and rot in their minds.
“Nothing.”
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