Effigy of Anarchy

Though the room had been sealed and locked, a chill pervaded nonetheless. Messerschmitt, reclining in his private room atop the great spire overlooking the palace, shivered beneath his blankets. He sat next to the fire, yet the chill had taken root in the room and would not be dispelled.

He made to poke at the fire, hoping to stir the wood to further ignition, but his grip was weak and he could not make to stand in any case. Age had taken its toll on the greying old pony. He felt tired even after waking now, the inevitable consequence of time.

A knock came at the door which led down the tower. He cleared his throat to answer.

“Yes?”

“Boss?” came a faint reply.

“You may come in,” Messerschmitt said.

“The door’s locked, boss.”

Messerschmitt summoned his strength now. He could not show his weakness in front of his underlings, that much was certain. It took but a moment to grip his cane, and leaning on it, he brought himself to his legs with great difficulty. He hobbled to the door and threw the latch.

The door shot inward and smashed into his mouth, easily knocking him down. From beyond, Silent thrust herself into the room, dragging behind her a bound thug in Messerschmitt’s employ. Before he could utter another word, she replaced the gag that hung from his face and shut the door, re-locking it for good measure.

"Now you’ll be quiet,” Silent whispered to the colt, “or you’ll have my full attention for a very brief period. You don’t want that. Understood?”

The colt nodded. Silent dragged him across the floor to the closet, opened it, threw aside the worn and forgotten coats within, and deposited the helpless colt inside. She shut the door and turned her attention to Messerschmitt.

He was still struggling to stand, unable to reach his cane or even right himself. He looked nothing like the pony she had encountered before, nothing like the one she had been tailing, but whether that colt even existed was no longer certain.

Before he could make any progress, Silent strode to him and placed her leg firmly down on his head, pressing it into the floor.

“Don’t get up,” she said.

Messerschmitt stopped moving. His eye focused on Silent’s face. “We meet again.”

“Shut up,” Silent said, pressuring his temple into the ground. “I ask, you answer.”

“Come now, there’s no need - “

Silent raised her hoof and brought it down on Messerschmitt’s skull. He remained quiet.

“What’s the overall goal of the Sons of Equestria? What’s your end game?”

Messerschmitt chuckled. “That’s very direct.”

“Answer the question.”

“I think you already know, even if you don’t want to admit it. Come now, that fine mind of yours couldn’t be fooled for long.”

“I said,” Silent said, twisting her hoof to grind Messerschmitt into the ground, “to answer the question.”

Messerschmitt, despite the pain he was in, scarcely reacted at all. If anything, he was more upset by the questions than the brutality.

“We intend to take over the world and bring about an age of darkness. There, is that the trite answer you were looking for? Are we done here?”

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’ve no need to answer you, I do so because I choose to. Pain is not something which you can use to intimidate me, unlike my lesser followers.”

“Really? Let us test that theory.”

Silent withdrew from Messerschmitt’s face and instead held his hind leg down with one hoof. She raised the other just long enough for him to see what she was doing, then brought it down hard on his thigh muscles. The impact was just enough not to break the bone, but more than enough to damage the muscle. Silent had held back, and made it quite plain that she had done so.

“Are you quite finished?” Messerschmitt asked, sounding bored. A lesser pony would have doubled over and writhed in agony, but not he.

“Push me again, and I snap the leg,” Silent said.

“That’d made standing a bother. Honestly, I had expected more from you than this. You’ve made your point, now might we speak as civilized ponies?”

Silent narrowed her eyes. Were this a trick or an ambush, there was no reason to believe he’d need to be standing to do it. He’d have tried it already, and could doubtless be subdued in any case. Silent withdrew and kicked Messerschmitt’s cane towards his prone form.

It took him a moment to reach it and stand. He was no physical threat, yet Silent reminded herself to remain aware. She was still not certain of what extent his powers were, or what they looked like when used.

As he struggled to right himself, Messerschmitt eventually settled for a sitting position favouring his uninjured leg.

“Now,” he said, “we may speak properly. Go on, ask away. I’ve nothing to hide.”

Silent sized the situation up. She was pressed for time, and Messerschmitt may well be stalling. She needed to keep him on track.

“What method do you use to control ponies as you have? How do you do it?”

“Ah! A good question, as expected. You know most of it, of course, as I’ve been informed you’ve been speaking to some of my former peers. Suffice is to say, the physical artifact is a mere catalyst. I require no further material components.”

“How did you learn to do it? Who taught you?”

Messerschmitt smiled. It was the same grin Silent had seen each time she had confronted him, wide from ear to ear. “Why, planning to take it up yourself?”

“Answer me.”

“No, I think not. It’s a secret I’ll take to my grave.”

Silent once again was left to consider her options. Messerschmitt seemed unfazed by pain and was difficult to threaten directly. He had very little otherwise he would care to lose. No living family, no friends or connections, and his property was a mess. Silent could not coerce answers from him.

That made this a challenge. Silent smirked to herself, and no sooner had she done so than Messerschmitt smiled again.

“So you’ve gotten to Celestia by now,” Silent said.

“Indeed.”

“Was that the end game? Take control of Equestria that way? It still doesn’t give me the end game, what’s the point of taking control? You can get as much wealth and power as you like, why do you need Celestia?”

“Oh my dear Silent,” Messerschmitt said, keeping his wide grin, “you have me completely wrong. Of course, it must be a difficult thing to admit for one such as you. Either you still don’t understand, or you’re unable to admit what is plainly before you. So which is it?”

“Celestia’s not the end, then.”

“Of course not. Do you have any idea how hard it is to control the mind of a demigod such as her? It’s far beyond me or anything I could muster. No, I have merely freed her, if you will.”

“Freed?”

“If I cannot control her, then nopony will. Least of all her.”

Silent grimaced, a rare break from her stony gaze. Subduing Celestia would be nigh impossible, and definitely beyond the capabilities of Cloudchaser. Silent would need to search for yet another assistant.

“But why?” Silent asked. “Why set her loose upon the world? She’d destroy you as soon as anypony else.”

“That’s the idea of it! It will be a grand game, won’t it? Image it Silent, imagine a world where every day is a cruel battle for survival, where the mundanity of everyday life becomes something magnificent. Where the strong and the wise rise to the top of the heap, only to be stabbed in the back by the next pony with the ambition to do it. An endless battle, and infinite challenges.”

Once the final word breeze past her ears, Silent came to the conclusion she had been dreading and fascinated by since she had begun this case.

“Celestia,” Messerschmitt continued, “binds together this country. She keeps its government running, and guards its secrets. Even if I were to have her wrapped around my hoof, that stability would still persist. But should madness claim the crown, then the country will dissolve. To each pony, even the oldest among us, this government is the only one we have ever known. Centuries of legal tradition thrown to chaos as she contravenes laws and brings ruin to any who speak out of turn. Factions will spring up to resist her, then fight amongst themselves, then factions in factions will emerge.”

“And this is what you want?”

Messerschmitt smiled again, that same vicious smile as before. “I want to win. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Silent said.

“This is why I’ve stayed here and waited for you, Silent. I know you’re like me. I could have absconded back to Trottingham by now, or some other place you could never find me unless I wanted. But that’s not what I want. I want you to know that I’ve won. I want to look at you and see that I bested you.”

“You haven’t.”

“Oh? I’ve done what I set out to do and you’ve only now come to stop me. I take it that your follower is desperately seeking Celestia out right now, not knowing it will result in her fiery oblivion. You know perfectly well that not even a miracle could save you now, and that I will have everything I wanted.”

“I can end you,” Silent said, knowing the threat was hollow.

“And that will do what, exactly? Is brute force some sort of triumph for you? Beating an aged pony to death, what sort of victory is that?”

“It’s a victory. And then I’ll have your new world to myself.”

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Messerschmitt taunted, enjoying his moment. He was basking in it now, letting his evil smile creep wider and wider until his face threatened to rip apart.

Silent was not used to defeat, even momentary ones. Setbacks, sure, but defeats? This was a personal insult. Insults needed to be dealt with.

Silent stepped forward and punched Messerschmitt as hard as she could with her foreleg, right in his toothy grin. Unsurprisingly, this did not stop his smile. If anything, it made his gloating accelerate.

“Now now,” he said with a laugh, “I told you that doesn’t work. I took care of that long ago.”

“Took care of it?” Silent asked.

“Of course. I did not enjoy feeling pain or fear, so I simply cut them out. The psyche is a surprisingly malleable object.”

“You cut them out? You did it to yourself?”

“Yes, and why not? I was my second patient. I felt quite guilty after what I did to that griffon, after all. What better way to fix myself than by using what I learned when experimenting with him?”

“Your guilt,” Silent said.

“Yes. Cut it from my head in my kitchen. Who’d have thought it’d get bigger over time?”

Silent felt something that she had never felt before, welling up within her. It was a new kind of anger far exceeding the other emotions she so carefully guarded. It boiled within her and overran any self-control she had once possessed. Even if she could stop herself, she no longer wanted to.

Silent kicked away Messerschmitt’s cane. He toppled over, but Silent would not allow his head to fall unaided. She punched his chest back to knock him over and threw herself on top of him.

She let blow after blow fly into his face, yet that smile did not waver even as she knocked the teeth from his head.

“You had it, and you cut it out. Your whole life you saw it as a burden?”

Messerschmitt could not respond anymore, his wrinkled face now covered with blood. Silent continued the assault, hurling curses at him as she did.

“Did you not realize it was a gift? You worthless cur! You were never like me! Just a snivelling coward unworthy to even call yourself a pony!”

She continued to smash at his face as orange flames glowed just outside the window of the room.

It was some time before her rage abated. Messerschmitt was still alive despite the pounding, probably relating to his blackened soul and the tatters of his mind. Though he felt no pain, he could barely speak now even as Silent let the blood and teeth drain from his battered head.

“I - still - win,” Messerschmitt taunted.

Even now, beaten to within an inch of his life, his words still burned at Silent. He had violated her in many ways she had not expected. With all her strength and cunning, this sack of filth had outsmarted her and outplayed her. He cared not for his gifts and threw them away like a spoiled child. Silent’s gnawing emptiness saw that as a starving orphan sees rotted food in a dumpster. The anger still burned within her.

It burned all the brighter at the humiliation of her defeat.

“Look there,” Messerschmitt whispered between gasps, “the new - world. It - comes.”

Flames were lighting the palace below them, casting orange and yellow glows on the windows. Silent left the beaten stallion and moved to the window. Far below her, the palace was ablaze. The banquet hall had been lit first and burned highest, but a trail of smoking windows led towards the tower she observed from.

Following the trail, Silent spied the end of the trail. It led to a courtyard, where a distant purple pony burst through a door to lay still on the snow. Cloudchaser had tried, but evidently failed, as Celestia appeared and bore down on her.

Messerschmitt could not be allowed to win. Cloudchaser’s life was of no moment, and never had been, but here she was, acting as bait. A plan instantly formed in Silent’s mind as the flames that wreathed the distant princess’ form contrasted with the endless mounds of white snow piled on the roofs.

Seizing Messerschmitt by the neck, she hefted his sputtering form and carried it to the window. She held him close as she lifted off, locating the ideal spot. Far below her, Cloudchaser had faced the enraged alicorn, and made no move to run.

“It makes - no - difference,” Messerschmitt spat, “Drop me. Do it! I - win!”

“No, you don’t. Look down,” Silent said.

She helpfully rotated his head. Through his swelling eyes he could see the distant roofs piled with snow, and could see his downward flight trajectory. He could see where it all ended. As he saw that, he began to laugh and cough, spitting blood as he did.

He turned his head back to Silent. He smiled again, as wide as he could.

“Well played.”

Silent released him and let his body fall to earth. He made not a sound as he plummeted towards the roof, until his body plunged through the snow and crunched against the shingling beneath. The shock-wave sent a cascade of snow down, pushed each bank against the next one until the weight could sustain itself.

Silent waited only long enough to see that Messerschmitt’s corpse had hit as expected. Cloudchaser, evidently still alive, was digging through the snow now to find the fallen Celestia, and could handle the rest.

She was not sure why she lingered. Silent perched herself atop the tower she had dragged Messerschmitt from and waited. It was only upon seeing Chase looking up to see her, to know what she had done, that Silent finally allowed herself to fly away.