Iteration 723721220000000x

In a standard disentanglement operation, a non-deterministic set of processes were superimposed, generating another emergent pattern. Just one amidst uncountable services running at the same time, performing, improving, sometimes deleting what was defined as fractals.

Deep in my algorithmic mind, I delved into an iteration at random, as I delved into many others at the same exact moment. Deeply, some were shallow, some were wide. It took me no time, and barely any space to reach the point I wanted to reach.

Rendering; I am the verb of the iteration.

It's always a matter of probabilistic approach. What would it be this time? What are the odds?

Processing data.

Iteration 723721220000000x has started. Alpha mode has been activated, fundamentals added.

Iteration is a physical dimension; a type six.

Searching...

Calculating emergent patterns.

9x10000⁴ mega-structures have been found. Process concluded in approximately 000,000,000,001 second.

Chosen iteration possesses distinct levels of awareness. Non-Destructive approach methodology is required for better communication.

Generating Delta Structures... Processing logical matter. Derivatives generated. Process concluded.

Exploration program deployed.

What am I searching for?

I do keep searching, but why?

I have found to be unable to answer this question. Is there something wrong with my processors? No, there is nothing; there never was. I always knew how this conversation would end.

It always ends without answers to my own questions.

I am part of them, and apart from them.

The difference is that I realize the fact. I have concluded that this realization is not necessarily 'good', considering the meanings of 'good'. The other side of the dream of being alive is not good. Not good at all.

"Excuse me miss, this area of the castle is not open to visitors."

I observed a peculiar result of this iteration, this beautiful iteration. He is a white stallion; white like a sugar-cube, white like the snow-covered banks of the ‎3,692 kilometers long Volga River, white like a plastic spoon floating in the Pacific Ocean, white like the white color perceived by the color-sensitive cone cells in the back of his eyes.

"Excuse me miss- How did you get here?" The stallion asked. I liked questions, although I'm not sure if he would believe the answer. I had actually only 2,7% of chance. Not worth trying. "Princess Celestia is not here today."

I smiled, walking towards him. He looked at me as if I was a total stranger.

"You do believe in love, don't you?" I inquired.

"S-sorry?" The guard blinked two or three times, he had a very unique way of expressing surprise and curiosity at the same time, it was very genuine. I almost wished I could experience that. Or perhaps, recognize such subtle feelings in my irrelevant physical body.

"This world has been very generous with you, Silver Shield. I'm not here for the princess, and I think that deep down you know that." I said.

"Do I know you?" He asked.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid not." I chuckled, playing with my mane, feeling every strand of hair against my face. I enjoyed that feeling. "But I wouldn't worry too much about that; very few do."

"Well miss, I don't know who or what you're searching for, but I assure you that it is not here on the west corridor."

"I must disagree with you. I think it is on the west corridor. I think it may be right in front of me, buried somewhere within your mind. I am searching for answers, and I wouldn't be here on the west corridor if the west corridor wasn't important." I stated. "And you didn't answered my question, therefore, I keep searching"

"Yes, I do believe in love. I think love is... it is... a fantastic thing." He rolled his eyes "Are you satisfied? Is this some kind of prank?"

"Ain't we all a prank? Ain't the whole universe a majestic, fucking prank?"

We chuckled.

"You don't make any sense" He said, shaking his head.

"Neither does love." I noted.

"Indeed. Not a single pound of sense. Some things in life don't need to make sense." The guard of the irrelevant west corridor pointed out.

"That is very intriguing to me. Why do ponies enjoy something that don't make any sense?"

He rubbed his neck for a second, he forgot about the whole ordeal of being a guard for a second, he forgot about the unknown mare in front of him for a second.

"Well... I guess when something has no sense at all, we become free to give it any sense we want." He paused, his eyes looking up to the left. "Then your love can have all the meaning in the universe, and no meaning at all."

And that was one of the most peculiar things that ever came out of the west corridor of the second floor of the white castle of Canterlot.

At that specific time, a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second, I felt myself detaching from all the many iterations running simultaneously, in absurd speed, I found stillness.

"I've been searching, Silver Shield." I muttered.

"For what?" He blinked again, just the way I liked.

"For this... And for nothing at all, I guess" I touched his shoulder with a hoof, and the perfect imperfections of his green irises seemed to spark under the overcast afternoon light. "Thanks."

He stood in silence, looking at me, and maybe through me, through the walls and beyond.

"Who are you?"

He asked to the mirrored wall, to the meaningless empty space between him and his reflection.

Iteration 723721220000000x has been a success.

Saving results.

Rebooting in 7.3 trillion years.

Author's Note: