Not many appreciate what I do. They are most certainly thankful for it, but they do not understand. Few do. I once hypothesised it may be due to the presence of magic and the abundance of those capable of wielding it. When almost every kingdom has a magical Princess doing magical Princess things, not many people appreciate the beauty in science.

But that’s okay. I appreciate it. It makes you understand there is beauty everywhere, and potential for greatness.

“Fright Zone Log: Day Twenty Eight,” I whispered into my recorder, just loud enough for my voice to be picked up. 

The little machine was gathering the small pieces of metal I had left as bait. With a swift motion, a lock of hair took out a pencil and small notepad from my pockets. The scrapbot scurried adorably across the floor, picking up whichever pieces it deemed acceptable while discarding the rest.

“I have managed to locate one of the scrapbots I stumbled upon when I first arrived a the Scrap Yard. It is currently preying on chunk mound three,” I said, doing my best to prevent  the excitement in me from making me squeal and scare away the test subject. 

“It seems they favour wires, microchips, and scraps of metal presenting no more than forty percent rust. Perhaps they possess a rudimentary mechanism to clean the more damaged pieces for reuse.”

My voice lowered to a happy gasp as I watched the scrapbot pick up and turn around an old piece of computer equipment. This one was remarkably similar to the one I first found when I arrived at the Fright Zone. It had little external alterations or signs of enhancements.

As I made a detailed diagram of the robot, I thought back to the name of my new home. I was more than a bit disappointed when I found out that the Fright Zone was called the Fright Zone. I had initially thought it was the [i]Freight[/i] Zone, which made sense seeing how the whole place was essentially a loading bay. Although, I suppose that would be too obvious.

I do not understand what is supposed to be frightening about this place. There is nothing to be afraid of industry and technology! It’s actually kind of cozy when you get used to it. It reminds me of… Dryl, in a way. Less purples, more greens, though. Hopefully the robots are taking good care of everyone. It was a good thing I wrapped up my experiments before leaving, I wouldn’t have wanted to make the trip back and forth between the Fright Zone and Dryl so often.

Although, I suppose I could still go back one of these days. Just to see the status of the lab. And check on everyone back home. Also, pick up a few data drives, I could really use—Suddenly, the scrapbot started making a series of noises, and all thoughts were pushed aside in favour of careful observation. It would not do to miss any information.

The scrapbot had extended a flexible limb from within its metal carapace, and after a few fake starts, it ignited a blue flame.

“A welding torch!” I squealed knowledgeably. It seemed it was going to start making changes to itself. “It must have been running on some sort of base programming to know what to do to improve their performance and durability, cross-reference it with a list of possible applications for each material, and then chose what to do based on an optimised output. I wonder how it makes that choice, though…”

I scratched my chin in thought as my hair updated the diagram of the scrapbot. If I managed to figure out the thought process of the artificial intelligence, perhaps I could find a way of enhancing Emily’s self-preservation subroutines! The potential for new knowledge had my mouth watering already, but I had to focus. I needed to finish the observation stage first.

Maybe I could pry one of them open later at the lab. I’m sure Catra could help me get one or two for further analysis. Perhaps another one to play with Emily.

I kept observing the process of self-modification of the scrapbot, taking notes of all noteworthy incidents. After few minutes, the scrapbot had attached a curved piece of metal to the rear of its open storage compartment. A rough estimate told me it would allow it to carry an approximate fifteen percent additional scrap components. Wouldn’t want to leave anything valuable behind, I suppose.

Once it was done, it went back to searching through the pile for anything it deemed suitable. I noticed it moved at a faster pace than it had done before, with movements that were more forceful yet swift at the same time. How peculiar.

“Ah!” I exclaimed in illumination before covering up my mouth with both hands and one lock of hair. The scrapbot stopped its actions and looked around in alert. I remained immobile once more, hoping to go unnoticed, for what seemed like longer than it must have been. I didn’t want to risk taking my chronometer out of my pocket.

After another lapse of dilated time, the scrapbot went back to scavenging in the pile of junk and spare parts and I let out a long—but quiet!—sigh. Brimming with excitement, I brought the recorder closer and started speaking, “It appears the scrapbot feels more comfortable knowing its cargo is more secure, which means it can move more freely without risk of losing something. Fascinating.”

It made me wonder how these scrapbots came to be. Surely they all began their life cycle as a standard model, and their environment and the materials available to them would forge—Hah!—that in which they’d become.

“The scrapbot is a creature of constant change, defined by its power to adapt,” I whispered into the recorder as I watched my test subject finish with a pile and move on to inspect chunk mound two. “This has been a most productive observation session. Entrapta out.”

Creatures of change indeed. Certainly not the only ones.

I smiled as I stored the recorded in one of my pockets. I was just about done with the diagram and I could get back to headquarters before lunch. Catra wanted me to look over the diagrams of some old weapon projects and see what could be salvaged and how I could improve them. Plus, Scorpia wanted to see if her tail could beat my hair at prehensility. The data may be insufficient, but it all pointed towards an overwhelming victory for me.

The scrapbot seemed satisfied with its haul. Turning around, it started to walk away, stopping occasionally to rearrange its cargo or to examine a random piece of metal on its way. My smile deepened as I wished the little robot the best.

Change was good. Change was natural. It was an undeniable part of life, and all one could do was to adapt. I had adapted. Just like the scrapbot had done. Besides, I hadn’t really changed all that much, even my wardrobe was still the same. And I was still helping my friends through the power of science. And not only my friends, but The Horde as a whole! The modifications I had made to the plasma rifles had reduced kickback by twelve percent and the number of shoulder injuries had gone down to unprecedented levels! Catra had even given me extra lab space because of that. It felt nice to be helpful.

It was good to know that, no matter how my circumstances may change, I could always rely on science to help me and help others. Reassuring, even. Science was evolving and ever changing, too, but it was also honest, it never lied to you and it let you know the truth about the world. It expanded our knowledge of the universe, of history, of everything, and as it did, it opened new avenues for future investigation. Science would never be done, it would never stop, or abandon you.

My thoughts were interrupted once more when a noise caught my attention. I looked back at the scurrying scrapbot and saw that it had found another scrapbot. This one was smaller and it appeared to be carrying less bits and pieces of discarded tech. Both machines exchanged a short series of lights and noises before my test subject pulled out a large piece of metal and gave it to the other scrapbot.

It was a good thing they were too far to hear me gasp in glee. These robots were simple , and I expected them to be programmed with basic survival skills, but if they were capable of showing kindness and generosity towards another one of its kind, then they must possess a rudimentary sense of solidarity amongst its ilk. I wondered if they also got some sort of individual gratification from showing kindness. Perhaps they shared some sort of hivemind, where the collective benefited from the well-being of every component! This required further studying!

Another glance showed that the new scrapbot had received the piece of metal and was now rubbing itself against the test subject in a clear show of affection. A few noises escaped me. Mostly of the [i]D’aw[/i] variety. I was sure I had a silly smile on my face, but I didn’t mind, it wouldn’t affect the data anyways.

I watched them walk around for a while before they scurried down a hole on a wall and into wherever that led so they could keep doing whatever it is scrapbots did when they weren’t scavenging parts. I furrowed my brow in thought. That was actually an interesting thought, just what did they do with their time? It was worth pursuing that lead, it may prove to be interesting. Maybe they’d go find more of their own kind and share their findings and have a good time together.

A laugh escaped me. Not that I did much to hold it back. I think I’d like to see that. Maybe I could ride Emily down into the sewers and blast a few holes to find the scrapbots’ nest. Or hive. Or however they lived. Perhaps they burrowed. I should take a camera. Maybe Scorpia could come with me, she could hold the camera.

Maybe some other time. I was feeling impulsive, but not that kind of impulsive. This mood was… different. Like that time she’d programmed her computer to print out the results of an experiment, but she was on the other side of Dryl at the time and couldn’t check on it because that computer had to be isolated from the grid to properly run the experiment.

“Personal Entrapta Log,” I said into the recorder, “I wish they hadn’t left me behind…” The words died in my throat as the little device hung limply from my hair. I wasn’t sure what compelled me to start recording, but I knew I had a thought worth noting, so I pushed through. “I miss them sometimes. When I’m not working on research. I just… I know I was not quite like them, but I thought I was useful. I thought [i]they[/i] thought I was useful. Perhaps I could’ve done more for them, I could’ve… I should have found the time to do more experiments, then I would’ve been of use… Then they wouldn’t have left me.”

I noticed another lock of hair was patting me on the shoulder. I held a hand out for it to grab and  brought it closer to my face, gently rubbing it against my cheek.

“I’m better know, I think,” I said, as I felt my smile coming back. ”I’m doing better. I can do more research now, and I’m certainly of assistance to The Horde. My research is benefitting so many people, I’m still doing a difference. I hope Adora, and Glimmer, and Bow, and everyone else will be happy for me.”

Looking up at the overcast skies of the unsuitably named Fright Zone, I smiled. “I’m fine. I can focus on science. I can help those who need me.”

And that was okay. Because I was okay.