I do not know how long I sat beside his chamber. I do not know how much I pleaded for all this to not be real. After all, did Celestia not dub me the living embodiment of insanity? Perhaps I was seeing things for what they really were, or perhaps I was seeing something that wasn’t real at all. Perhaps I was twitching with a stroke in a hospital bed in whatever town I lived in, a town that I no longer remember, full of family and people I do not remember. The human mind eventually degrades, and after living well over a thousand years and having a thousand years of memories stuck up in your head… You can be eaten away mentally and emotionally… This just takes the cake for what has been done to my sanity.

Without my dear and only friend, I would have nobody. I do not like being alone in a land where everypony is out to get you. So perhaps it is time I sent a message to others in my predicament. I pulled myself up with the help of my staff and slowly walked over to the flickering and obviously malfunctioning teleporter. I need somebody who could help me get through all of this, and perhaps I could help someone else. Luckily, I made a few devices for this particular purpose before I was encased in stone, before I began my eternal imprisonment, before I truly hated that bitch.

I pressed a button on the teleporter, and a tray slid out from the side. The tray contained a few notes with my current coordinates. I had them folded into sealed envelopes with a wax seal that depicted Group 935’s signature fist and atom. I sighed and tossed them all into the teleportation chamber. I walked around to the other side of the teleporter and pressed the big red button that had the word “Activate” on it, because I was a cliché villain back then.

With a flash of light, all my good intentions were gone. As if I ever had any good intentions in the first place that is. I’m lucky that I knew how a gun works; otherwise I would be nearly powerless. I needed something else other than my trusty Ray Gun of course. It only had so much ammo, and I only had so much Element 115, but I could only hope that I had raised hell itself with that zombie pony back there. I could only hope that it bought me enough time for me to get my bearings, but it didn’t give me enough time to save my only friend.
All of the letters were gone, sent to different dimensions and time, and I could only hope that someone somewhere had received a letter…

MEANWHILE… AT THE SCP FOUNDATION…

“What the fuck do you mean 682 is dead?! He got killed by what?! HE CHOKED ON A FUCKING LETTER?! How in bloody hell did that letter get in there?! What do you mean you don’t know?! Did you read it? Okay, who wrote the letter? Doctor Edward Richtofen? You mean that one fictional character from that stupid video game? Fuck, well call Doctor Bright and let him know of the situation…”

Doctor Clef slammed the phone down onto the desk. After all these centuries, some fictional video game character had killed SCP-682. With a letter no less. They had tried to launch SCP-682 into the sun multiple times and it choked on a letter and died. Clef was frustrated at this turn of events, but his bad time was interrupted by his best friend, Doctor Bright, who just got on the intercom.

“There will be a mandatory Foundation party in the cafeteria. Doctor Gerald is NOT allowed any roller skates for this event, and Kondraki is not invited. Peace out!”

Doctor Clef facepalmed and turned back to his desk. He began filing the last document that would ever mention SCP-682, its termination report. The O-5’s would love to hear about this, maybe they’ll want us to shove a letter down something else’s throat too. Perhaps one Doctor Bright…

BACK TO POOR OL’ EDDIE

Yes, I could only hope that they had been enlightened of my current situation. I had no time to be dawdling around playing a monologue in his head. I started over to my personal quarters, but the hallway leading to it had fallen into such a state of disrepair that my room was inaccessible! Seriously, how much concrete did I put in that ceiling? It would require many months of digging out concrete and rebar to get to it. Even then, everything in my room is most likely rotted and rusted to dust and dirt.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How could I have forgotten about one thousand years of age? Stupid!” I slapped myself upside the head to help regain my thoughts, what could I do now? I know that I had to take down the pony called Celestia, but how would I go about doing it? Should I raise an army perhaps? Attempt to do something to raise all hell? There is a country called Germane, perhaps I could convince them to wage war.

I would have to write a letter to them of course, because that would be the only way to convince them, as they would not trust me in my current appearance. Perhaps a letter would do nicely to ease tension; perhaps I could convince them to wage war against Celestia. I could even give them the benefits of German engineering and technology, something that Equestria does not have. They do not have the experience of war that Germany has had. They do not have the technology that Germany has. They do not have anything.

I sat at a steel desk and started scratching on the parchment with ink and quill. I was sure to use my calligraphy to set the finest impression that I was professional and serious, yet elegant and intelligent at the same time. An elegancy I rarely display within writing, as it is mostly sketches and indiscernible scratches of graphite and lead amongst paper. I prefer pencil and pen of course, but they are currently rotted and crushed to dust, or broken.

I sealed the letter in an ornate envelope and stamped the Group 935 wax seal to close the letter. I tossed it in the teleporter and punched in the coordinates for the Germane castle. I pressed the activation button and the teleporter crackled, and with a flash of light, it was gone. I sat back down in the steel chair behind the desk made out of the same material. It seemed rather drab in this bunker, but I didn’t have many options concerning furnishing choices.

Iron and steel would have to do for now. I would have to start building my defenses if I were to ever be able to throw Celestia off course. How would I build an army you ask? Well sir or ma’am, you are asking the Doctor Edward Richtofen on how he is going to raise an army! By raise an army, I mean literally raise an army. From the dead that is! Luckily, I had stored myself some old lunar guard corpses from the time I raided their armory for metals and supplies. Boy, did I rack up a kill count that day!

I entered the freezer, which I had enchanted to be forever cold courtesy of my late friend Sapphire, and looked upon the tubes containing perfectly preserved corpses of bat ponies with their armor still on. The perfect basis for an army is an army that will actually listen and that would not question my orders. I smiled mischievously just thinking about all the things I could do with these ponies, but I already had a plan set up.

The ponies do not know how to kill them and they most certainly do not know how to kill them. Not that I’d tell them that you would have to aim for the brain to kill them of course. So I’ll just set all one hundred of them loose in the woods. That should keep them occupied, and possibly make zombie animals as well as zombie ponies. This week just got a little bit more fun, and with that. I pressed the button, releasing 115 into all the pods…

Good morning my little ponies… Rise and shine from your death… For we still have one more objective…

Author's Note

Link to SCP Foundation and SCP-682.