>There was time, now.
>Time to think.
>Painless time, like the rest of it in this sightless, soundless place.
>You remembered lights, but had to put effort to remember them. A grainy image of it shimmering through the air, lines of pure, beautiful, colored light. They crossed like a webwork, flickering and strobing.
>Had you always been able to recall images like that?
>You remembered what it was. That something terrible had happened in that pretty room.
>You remember it hurt. But pain was in a distant place, here.
>Somewhere that simply couldn't be reached.
>But why then, could you recall it was so important?
>You understood what the words meant.
>Blood.
>Burning.
>Bullets.
>But you couldn't feel it. Maybe that was why.
>It was as if your mind had simply forgotten how to put it to feeling, and instead replaced that  comprehension with words.
>Were you dead?
>No. You knew you weren't.  Otherwise you wouldn't be here again, in this place.
>But your body was close.
>And you... You were so very distant from it.
>Your remembered what cold was, for a moment.
>You slid from one place to another. How you could tell, you didn't understand.
>You knew things were all around you, in words and code and numbers.
>You could feel yourself moving them aside. Stopped hard when there was too little room, though there was nothing physical in the way.
>It all changed, and every time you stopped moving, you could comprehend all those confusing, pointless snippets as being quite real around you.
>they were able to move around you. Stop you.
>You retreated and dove into places you knew were blank. They felt safe.
>Then it stopped. You gasped.
>For an instant, you could taste again.
>For an instant, you could see again.
>And god almighty, did it hurt.
>The air tasted stale and bloody. A plastic mask fed into your face, and something had you strapped down.
>Rarity.  Rarity was there, under some searing, sterile light.
>But you had to get away. It hurt so bad. And the dark place didn't have pain like this.
>didn't have fear like this.
>You bounced away. Back into unfeeling, comfortable black.
>Without eyes or skin or ears, you recognized them by name.
>Dat-75160 was a big blockade. You had skipped past it before, but something caught you. Something walled you in this time.
>It didn't scare you. How could it?
>This place didn't let you know what fear or pain was.
>You knew you would be stuck here, forever if need be, if you couldn't get past those walls.
>But they had holes.
>Things you knew- memories, thoughts, color- dissipated, and returned when you were past them. You flew through holes, filtering through them like water, forgetting things and recalling when you coalesced again.
>You knew how to pass the walls, now.
>You knew you had to keep moving. The other side, the feeling side, would interfere.
>And you didn't know what would happen if it caught up to you while you were here.
>No.  That wasn't true.
>You'd stop. Simply end.
>Painlessly.
>Fearlessly.
>No.
>This wasn't how it should be.
>Rarity was still out there.
>Still pure and white.
>And something was wrong out there.
>Or, was it something was wrong in here?
>You had to get somewhere safe.
>But where? This place, this void.
>It was in pieces.
>No, it was in places. Walled off from itself but perfectly connected by those cold shunts and the holed walls.
>It could only be safe if you knew the void wouldn't simply stop.
>But there was only one part of it you actually recalled. One void that never stopped existing.
>Personality Core-1.  You had to be there.
>But why had you even gotten away from it?
–
>Rarity wept.
>His eyes had opened, and he stared blankly at the ceiling. She crept up onto the side of his bed, smiling, honestly, for the first time in the past week.
>She whispered his name, hoping to wake him rather tenderly
>He saw her, blinked.  He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, unable to scream.  But he did try.
>He'd started to go into convulsions after that.
>She held him down, avoiding his wounds as best she could.
>She cried for a doctor. Nurse. Anyp0ny.
>then his eyes rolled back.  He closed them and went still.
>Shocked terror overtook her, and she started to hyperventilate right there.
>The heart monitor was still active. A flurry of activity, having somehow instantly calmed.
>He was at peace another few seconds.
>Then, it began again.
–
>You found old pieces of yourself.
>Something had been watching you in each little void. It kept a ghost of you there.
>It left tracks.
>With some effort, you could understand them, without having to read them.
>”Anonymous2 connected.”
>”File: Anonymous2 uploaded. Quarantine failed...”
>You followed your ghosts, all the way back.
>You split into pieces and reformed again and again, flowing like water through walls and spun through tunnels.
>Dozens of unfamiliar voids, you found yourself at the first one you'd ever seen.
>Personality Core 1.
>And you were already there.
>Not you.  Not the real you.
>No. This couldn't be the right place.
>You bounced back. It took only seconds to you.
>You'd felt the path this time. Memorized it.
>Like stretching, or flicking your tongue, you were back at the other side.
>Then the pain started again. You could see, breathe, and burn again.
>Rarity's pretty eyes were there, and you remembered sapphire.
>She was crying.
>You remembered hate, again.
>And you hated it when she cried.
>”Not like this.” she said.
>”Please, not like this!”
>The pain was too much. You had to retreat once more.
>But those eyes...
–
>The staff clustered around him, unsure what to make of his stillness.
>Rarity looked at him, and put her hooves to his chin carefully.
>She turned his head to face her, and shook her head toward him slowly.
>”Not like this.”
>He looked straight at her. He was aware.
>”Please, not like this!”
>He gurgled again, and faded.
>Gone again, he went limp in her hooves.
>She brushed what little mane he had away, carefully organizing the hair clinging to his sweat.
>He was still alive. She could feel his heartbeat.
>”Don't do this!”
–
>Personality core 1.
>Something else was there. Something you perceived as a needle.
>The old you was there.
>Unlearned. Like looking, in hindsight, at an old picture. Hearing stories of yourself as a child.
>How had you ever separated?
>The needle pulled away.
>Then, something small and black came.
>It was hungry.
>You felt the space in the void expanding.
>Your old self began to shrink.  To shred. To dissolve.
>The blackness was small. But it was eating and eating and not growing.
>The old you was confused.  It tried to ask you things.
>You understood it, for a time. But they were the same things you would ask, after all.
>You stayed as the blackness ate, and the old you grew less and less coherent.
>You watched, fascinated.
>Then, after a time, the old you was gone.
>Nothing.  Blank and empty, that tiny blackness was the only thing inside there with you.
>But there was space, then. Comfortable space.
>The blackness turned to you.  Like you, it had no sight. Merely perception of your existence.
>You started to forget things.  You felt yourself getting ever so slightly smaller.
>It was eating, you realized.
>You recalled something.  You had to take a moment to form it into something you could see.
>Rarity smiled at you from it.  You'd taken her out to dinner, that night.  Ordered her favorite dish to see how ponies could taste it.
>”Not really my thing.” You could hear yourself say. “It's a little flowery...” You laughed a bit at the thought. You'd never stopped to consider that ponies ate flowers in the first place, so the expression probably fell flat.
>In the slowly playing image, you looked down.
>You'd had something on that table.
>What was it?
>It was still eating.
>You couldn't recall the color of the table.  The plate was gone. Whatever it was, you couldn't remember it, couldn't put it to being any longer.
>You looked up, and the corners of that memory were fading. Darkening and colorless already.
>She was laughing. No, the irony hadn't been lost on her.
>It was still eating.
>No matter how fearless or painless this place was, you had to be on the other side.
>Or this thing would keep eating.
>You stretched. Pulling away from that gluttonous black monster, you felt yourself leave something.
>”Go Fuck Youself.txt” uploaded.
>Disconnect confirmed.  Routing to template...
>Then, pain. Terrible, in your chest and stomach.
>The air. The chill of the hospital bed, the cathode ray daylight.
>And Rarity.
>You felt her hooves, felt her clutching your head to hers. Her tears drifting along your cheek.
>Creeping dread overtook you, and your ears rung.
>You tried to remember.  Something. Anything.
>Yes. It was still there. She was still laughing in your memory. But it was gray and lifeless.  The sound was muffled.
“Rarity?”
>Your voice is barely comprehensible, even to yourself.
>”Don't leave again- please, I can't bear this!”
>You breathe a few times.  She just holds you.
>She's so warm.
>You look up, and she sees your eyes open again. She flinches, expecting something.
>And for the first time in a long, long while, you appreciate what a smile felt like.