TCB - Other Side of the Spectrum: Shades of the Unsung

Chapters

Second Print - Drawn Within An Unknown
Third Print - A Tale Be Told From An Earth Pony
Filler Chapter - Rockwell's Travel Through Darkness
The Intermission
First Composition - A Duet Between Two Mares
First Print - Welcome to the Gulag

Second Print - Drawn Within An Unknown

Authors:
TheIdiot - Still here and still writing
Doctor Fluffy - 3:10 to Gory, Gun Toting, Pop-Culture Town on the Kraber Express

Editors:
Kizuna Tallis - A necessary thing, she helped make improvements
Rush - Gave a good commentary on events and characters

Featherpen: “Can I just thank you for taking the time to have this interview with me?”

Iustita: “It’s not me you should be thanking, it should be Her Majesty for allowing this all to happen in the first place; but if you wish go right ahead. *gives a small giggle* But seriously, I’m here to answer any questions you may have… as long as it isn’t about that dreadful rumor about those supposed nzambi seen around some old manor that doesn’t exist.”

Featherpen: “Now… what is a nzambi? I keep on hearing talk that Betrayers use that.”

Iustita: “Oh it’s some zebra slang for an undead creature, and apparently some ridiculous ponies have said that the Newfoals are like the undead or something. *she scoffs* I’ll let you know my special stallion is a newfoal and despite his lack of a cutie mark, he acts like any regular old pony… but better. *she gives a smile and blushes thinking about him* Twilight Sparkle is right, you know. It’s amazing how much we can learn about how to be perfect ponies from newfoals.”

Featherpen: “Does he ever worry about your job here?”

Iustita: “Oh I wouldn’t say he’s worried; my dear Stallion is my Vice Warden New Bloom after all. He’d be with me at all times, and wouldn’t need to worry about my job in the slightest… though he might be, given how much he cares about me and the others of Equestria. In fact he’s more of a pony than my last husband ever was. *she chuckles again at some kind of inside joke* Besides, you just need to know how to treat Betrayers, and it’s all fine.”

Featherpen: “How do you treat them though?”

Iustita: “I must treat them like any other horrible criminal unfortunately. They simply must be punished for their actions by not allowing them the easy path of the mind healers. It’s rather difficult to heal them of humanity’s horrible taint sometimes, but they will eventually seek forgiveness from our goddess and want to be her little ponies once more.”

Featherpen: “How do you heal them though?”

Iustita: “We have them work hard under the sun. The harder they work allows for more clear thinking, away from the darkness humanity has infected them with. After that, they would slowly seek redemption that our Goddess can grant through spiritual means. If they are willing to do so, we will administer a series of trials that, if completed, will allow them to prove their worth on the battlefield against the monsters that have infected them, all for the betterment of pony kind. Though, like I said, some have been difficult unfortunately; and for the sake of anypony reading I will not say their names. Just know that they are the lowest ponies I’ve ever met and we’ve had to give up on some of them. Like I said, it’s all unfortunate; such a waste.”

Featherpen: “Agreed. Newfoal or natural, we’re all ponies under Celestia’s light. Why can’t they see that? It’s like they’re… defective. Or something.”

Iustita: “Hard to say, you know? Truth be told, one time I was having trouble myself once; my previous husband Swiftwing went to fight in the Crystal Wars… he never came back and I couldn’t seem to trust in Celestia for some reason because of it. I’m not sure why though. *she chuckles again* In fact you could say I once thought about leaving Equestria… but then one night it all came to me, a magnificent dream of her majesty that made me realize the truth. Ever since then I’ve been more than faithful to her than before. Yet for my poor twin Balanced Scale, I’m sad to say that she didn’t see the same thing until she was taken to a mind healer… I was very scared that she would’ve turned betrayer. Can you believe that? She was so much better when she came home though.”

Featherpen: “I can believe it. We’ve all lost somepony in this war… Amazing what the humans have driven us to, making us lose so many of our friends and family.

Iustita: “They only prolong the inevitable, so why can’t they be more willing like that one human mare… what was her name? Reit-something? I hope sometime in the future she’ll join our magnificent herd like some many others have. Hopefully she’ll be as wonderful as the late Catseye was.”

Featherpen: “It’s amazing just how much Newfoals can learn to be better ponies. Tell me one thing, though - is it true that you experiment with potion variants at your prison?”

Iustita: “Well, I can’t really say that we do much experimentation with the potion - although we have been visited regularly by the Queen’s student Twilight Sparkle, and what she does in the medical facility is a business that only the Element of Magic and the Queen have any right to know of; not even I am aware what she does down there… but I hope it will allow for a better method than having to throw the potion at those humans. Maybe like those potion clouds, that was innovative for the Pegasi. I have so many prisoners making vials - I know there are so many we could imply, but we need those vials so very much. They don’t have much range.”

Featherpen: “Well, whatever advances you make, I hope that they better all ponykind.”

Iustita: “Myself as well, for the greater herd that is Equestria.”

Featherpen: “Well, time’s running short. Any final words you’d like to say?”

Iustita: “…I just want everypony to know that I am so blessed by Her Grace to have this position, even more elevated despite originally being just a mere lowly guard; although perhaps she’d know I’ve been so faithful to her and all of the Solar Empire. I promise on my word that I will not let her down and will make sure that any troublemakers, undesirables or TRAITORS will be given due processing for their transgressions against our wonderful society. I say this to all and any that read our interview, natural born like ourselves and newfoals like my stallion and, the filly I’m sponsoring, Lavender Dreams. I swear this as both my oath and as my word in the name of our wonderful goddess, all hail Queen Celestia and her glorious sun.”

An interview with Iustita, the (at the time of the interview) recently named Head Warden of the prisoner’s camp north of the Crystal Empire.

The next morning, Inkwell started to wake up to see some guards at their cell door; probably here for Rockwell or-

“Get up!” The Guard ordered, banging on the cell door with a metal club, forcing Rockwell to open his eyes up and caused Inkwell to wince; yup, it was time for the morning line-up, a truly dreaded thing that would make anypony wish it wasn’t one of those mornings.

The cell door was then unlocked and the Guard’s compatriots forcibly entered the cell, dragging Rockwell out of his cot and Inkwell getting lifted out via telekinesis. Since Inkwell woke up when they got to their cell, he didn’t need to get forced out…

Rockwell, on the other hoof, not so much.

All Inkwell could do was watch as his cellmate was getting the tar beaten out of him by the Guards to force him awake. One of them was probably a newfoal too, given the how the look on its face was of somewhat sadistic glee.

Eventually, both of them (and other prisoners) were outside standing in a straight line; Rockwell and Inkwell were near the end of the left side of the line… however Inkwell couldn’t help but look at his cellmate given as to how things were last night. Maybe the Warden knew something about it.

He watched the warden approach the line. She was clad in a warm uniform (probably made by Rarity), her coat a creamy white and a mane of platinum. She was a unicorn by the name of Iustita. Her steel grey eyes scanned the line up of prisoners as she was flanked by a pegasus stallion on her left, clad in a uniform similar to hers, and an Earth Pony stallion on her right wearing a heavy looking body armor and iron mask.

She went down the line, scanning everyone with scrutiny. At the right end, she took one look at a griffon prisoner and said, “Medical, temporary; his wing is mislocated.”

Without hesitation, the two guards forcibly dragged the griffon off; his cries to the contrary and pleading were either unheard, or just weren’t given any thought by the mare.

She came to the next one: a unicorn mare that had blood leaking from her nose and an empty look to her eyes.

Iustita smiled and said, “Mental evaluation; she might be ready.”

Unlike the griffon, the mare was being… escorted by the guards instead of being forcibly dragged away.

One by one, Warden Iustita would inspect the prisoners. Any creature that received medical would be dragged off screaming, begging or both. Some ponies (and about two Zebras) who usually had blood coming out of their noses and didn’t say anything would be sentenced to mental evaluation… which to Inkwell must’ve meant that they were probably braindead or their minds were broken so that the mind healers would be able to reshape them into becoming like newfoals themselves. Besides that, there was the hard labor and they’d stay… which was really the lesser of two evils in this case.

As brutal and taxing as mining for crystals and raw materials was, he would still rather keep his own mind for long as he could, instead of killing himself by submitting himself to mental magic. No. Not killing. That’d be worse than death.

Eventually she got to Rockwell, and Inkwell couldn’t help but notice the glare she gave the cranky older stallion. Was she aware of what happened last night after all? Or did they have a history? Maybe one of the crazy rumors about Rockwell’s incarceration was true… though the one about him helping the other Princesses out of the Empire still seemed rather unlikely to Inkwell.

His bloodshot eyes met her steel grey glare, and in a surprisingly jovial (but still clearly sarcastic tone), Rockwell asked, “Good morning, Warden. How’s your nzambi of a sex slave doin’?”

Warden Iustita’s face became red with anger and indignation. Using her telekinesis, she hit Rockwell with a baton, knocking him down like a domino with two strikes from it.

“You filthy, mud-loving numbskull of a pig!” she yelled at Rockwell, “I wish you’d be eligible for full-time medical for that filthy mind of yours!” Iustita ranted at the earth pony.

She stops her rant short however, sighing, “But, Twilight Sparkle has stated repeatedly that I cannot have this luxury; pity that I must go through this ordeal every time with you. Hard labor; cart pulling and crystal transportation.” With that she turned and left Rockwell there to lay on the ground.

Unfortunately for Inkwell, the Warden was looking right at him; it was his turn now. She started to study him; she leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I know you’re hiding something, I know who you are, Inkwell…”

Hearing her say his name and identifying him made Inkwell start to sweat a bit. She continued, “And I know you’re a traitor. Mark my words: no creature in my prison will keep any secrets from me.”

She then pulled back and simply said, “Hard labor; give him the refining task.”

Iustita then turned and began to leave, her two bodyguards following suit behind her. Inkwell soon was dragged by a guard towards a piece of equipment that serviced to refine the crystals that had been mined.

He then had to get to work.

The bell rang, signalling that it was mealtime for the prisoners. Inkwell sighed with relief, his horn aching from helping to operate the machine. He walked towards the cafeteria to get his lunch… although it could hardly be considered food. It was mainly made of scraps of old vegetables, fruits and probably grass and leaves, all mashed together into a chunky slop.

He wouldn’t be shocked if newfoals still had less to eat than this. Unlike natural-borns, newfoals were expendable in the extreme. Oh well, even if they all died tomorrow, there'd still another batch of newfoals to take our place. C'est la vie…

Inkwell looked to see that Rockwell was eating alone at a table in the corner. An idea came to the young stallion. Maybe now was the best time to confront him about last night.

Gathering his courage, Inkwell lifted his tray with his telekinesis and walked over to the table, taking a seat across from Rockwell.

“What do you want, kid?” Rockwell growled with irritation, the injuries the Warden had caused very much visible.

“I… I want to talk,” Inkwell replied before leaning in to whisper carefully, “I saw what you did last night.”

Rockwell stopped cold, and swiftly looked around the cafeteria before leaning in and replying “Say what?”

The tone of the old stallion’s voice, mixed with the dark glare and hard-clenched teeth, gave the unicorn the urge to wet himself.

He pulled himself together, and making sure to keep quiet, he reiterated, “I saw what you did last night. You walked out of the cell, tried to lift a pillar, and then vomited that black gunk.”

“I have no bucking idea what you’re talking about,” Rockwell snorted. “You were asleep, dreaming something that can’t happen. Bucking Pinhead.”

Inkwell, however, stood his ground and pressed onward, “No, I wasn’t dreaming. I know what I saw, and I saw you trying to move that pillar. You know it and I know it.”

“It. Was. A. Dream,” Rockwell growled through clenched teeth. “And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t trust you anywhere near enough to know about it.”

Inkwell tried to persuade him. “But-”

Rockwell cut him off, “You listen well, kiddo, and you listen good: if you know what's best for you, then keep your head down and don’t say a bucking word about anything outside of it being a dream. Because we both know that if you breathe a word of it, Iustita is gonna be the least of your problems.”

“There may or may not be things going on in this prison. I know you must have come to that belief by now,” he finishes.

Inkwell paused for a minute. It was pretty clear from Rockwell’s tone of voice he was implying something. Normally he’d laugh, but he’d learned a few days ago that he was the bad guy in all this, having happily called for the destruction of an entire species, and that newfoals were lobotomized abominations. So why not?

“I can accept that,” he replies

“These things,” Rockwell began, starting to leave the table “which may or may not exist, are perhaps best left… unknown with prying ears around and eyes watching.”

With that Rockwell left, not even taking a bite of his lunch and heading outside; leaving Inkwell to further contemplate things.

After lunch, thankfully, the prisoners were allowed time to be amongst themselves; for Inkwell however, he was spying on his cellmate again.

This time he was talking to a pegasus mare with a yellow coat, a silver mane and tail. Inkwell shivered at how rough she looked; her coat looked dirty and patchy, her mane and tail were chopped short, there were scars all over her body and her wings looked mutilated with several feathers looking like they’d been ripped out and clipped. They were speaking in hushed tones and voices so that no pony could hear them… but Inkwell was a curious sort and a reporter at heart, so he listened closely to get a scoop.

“What do you mean he saw you?!” the mare hissed with shock. “Rockwell, if he’s as weak as you said he is, then everything we’re working for will be-”

“It won’t be,” Rockwell cut her off, his voice reassuring. “The colt may be a naive fool, but he’s not a hopeless case. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

It was obvious they were talking about him, but what were they talking about specifically? Were they planning something after all?

“That bile is almost out of my system,” he told her. “It’s only a matter of time until I can do my tricks again, it’ll work… for Luna’s sake, it will work.”

Inkwell knew it was best to stick to the shadows right now. Despite his nature, and being extraordinarily tempted to converse with them… they both seemed rather dangerous. This was, perhaps, the worst time to talk to somepony.

On top of that, well... he was just afraid.

They were clearly planning something by this point. And this seemed like the worst place he could reveal it. Somepony could hear them.

Almost as if on cue… the mare narrows her eyes and whispers, “Somepony is listening in.”

“I think the colt is smart enough to keep his head down and his trap shut for now… even if he is a pinhead.” Rockwell sighed, not even turning around to acknowledge his young unicorn cellmate. “Isn’t that right, Inkwell?”

Inkwell stifled a gasp, trying (and failing) to slip away quietly. It was futile, so he trotted towards them, eyes downcast. They caught him, so there was no point to denying he was eavesdropping.

“How did you know?” he asked them.

“You have a… particular tread,” Rockwell replied. “Now let’s get one thing straight, kiddo: you did not hear anything.”

“But-”

“We have been talking about the culinary values of the prison’s home-brew,” Rockwell interrupted. “And nothing else. You know that, right?”

Inkwell looked at him for a moment, wondering what they were actually talking about, but he shook it off. They clearly didn’t want to know. “Can I… join in on this conversation?” he asked.

“Only if you can keep your voice silent,” the mare growled, “and, if you can write the truth about what no one else can see about the Elements.”

Inkwell could see the hard look in her light violet eyes, a look that spoke of someone who had seen way too many horrible things in a short amount of time. Her cutie mark was a of a stylized cloud in the shape of a musical note.

“You are a chronicler, can you do that?” she asked again in a cryptic fashion.

It soon occurred to Inkwell that she was asking if he knew something… something about the Elements of Harmony.

“What do you need me to write?”

“... You are way too good at making others speak outta turn,” Rockwell sighed, silencing them both with a glare. “We can’t explain this here. Or anywhere. They could be listening to us here - no, we need somewhere more private for that plan.”

“But then why are you talking about it here?”

“They wouldn’t look for us here,” Rockwell explained. “We move around a lot.” He looked at the mare. “I know there are big plans, but they can wait.”

He then turned to Inkwell and asked, “Just one question - you’re beyond the point of thinking you can reason with Celestia, right?”

Inkwell nodded. “Yeah, newfoals,” he said simply.

Rockwell got a look of murder in his eyes while the mare shuddered uncomfortably at the mention of those slave-corpses.

“Besides those things… I can feel that you have met them… that you saw they weren’t what they should be; that something is very seriously off with them, like we did. Can you see the truth?” the mare asked cryptically.

What truth was she talking about?

“Storm, that’s enough,” Rockwell ordered. “He’s young and doesn’t know what we know.” He then turned to Inkwell and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “They’re going to start asking you questions now, they think you’re involved. If you want to hear the truth and know about us… then keep your head down and wait.”

With that, the two walked away from the young unicorn, but it left him more confused than he would of wanted.

After more time has passed, Inkwell was trying to head back to his cell; his head was aching from the strenuous task of working the refinement machine. By now it was purely nighttime, probably meant that it was past 11… or something. Must be time to sleep.

He stops however, seeing two guards dragging away his cellmate. Rockwell was now sporting bruises and had been beaten something rather fierce. Whatever the guards intention was… Inkwell didn’t want to know and just did what Rockwell had told him earlier; he kept his head down and said nothing as he entered his cell.

He had been told to keep quiet, and by… by Luna, he was going to stay quiet.

What in Tartarus were those two planning anyway? A prison break? A… conspiracy? Some kind of exposé? He hoped it wasn’t an exposé. Equestrian presses were rather restricted nowadays. And judging by Berry Punch’s reaction when he revealed the truth of the newfoals, it was extremely unlikely that anypony in Equestria would care, much less believe it.

He sincerely hoped Berry Punch hadn’t always been like that.

They’d probably praise Celestia, claiming that the brainwashing (or as the insistent terminology went, “mind healing”) was necessary. Even as they became more and more newfoal-like themselves, to the point that anyone who could disagree with Celestia would be seen as insane.

As he lie down in his lumpy cot which reeked of sweat, dirt and mildew, Inkwell found that there was something in his pillow; using his magic to reach inside, Inkwell saw that there was some kind of orange crystal in it along with a notebook, an ink bottle and a quill.

On the notebook’s back, there was an inscription that reads, “Pinhead; this crystal contains information that you need to witness. You need to smash it once you’re done to keep it from falling into the wrong hooves. - Rockwell”

After finishing the note, Inkwell focused on the glowing orange crystal instead… what was he supposed to do? Touch his horn to it or something?

However, at the moment he let his magic flow into the crystal, Inkwell realized what it was; somehow Rockwell got his hooves on a memory crystal.

But how? Ensorcelling crystals was prohibitively expensive, ponies with the Mark for that were incredibly rare, and most importantly, how’d it get here?

‘Oh, buck,’ he thought, before he uncontrollably passed out and found himself no longer lying on his cot, but somehow was now in a field, just at the edge of an unfamiliar mountain range; a cold gust of wind blew through his coat as he managed to pull himself to stand up.

‘Where am I? What is this?’ He thought, looking around.

Author's Note

Well, there goes that; the second chapter of the story. Here’s hoping everyone enjoyed this installment and please keep in mind that the interview at the beginning of the chapter is there to both help introduce Iustita and be contradicted in the next scene by showing how things "REALLY" happen. Please leave any comments besides about TCB!Sunset Shimmer, feedback is appreciated. Until next time everyone!

Third Print - A Tale Be Told From An Earth Pony

Authors:
TheIdiot - Wondering where (or when) IS Carmen Sandiego?
Doctor Fluff - Is more Borderlands than Borderlands 2

Editors:
Kizuna Tallis - A unique perspective
Rush - Our resident Bender

"An Unfortunate Discovery! Betrayal By Family!?

Today, Queen Celestia has learned of the unfortunate fate of a proud, retired Royal Guard Veteran named Stone Edge. Stone Edge had served a strong military career and retired nine years before Luna’s return; he was put into some kind of forever sleep by his own kin! Top medical experts are studying his case even now, attempting to resolve the curse done by his own brother.

That’s right, his own brother Rockwell did this to him; it is suspected that he is a terrorist earth pony allied with the PHL or the so-called “Equestrian Resistance” cells (this writer suspects the Knights of Luna or, as some claim them to also be known as, the so-called “Lunar Republic”), a member that has been masquerading as some kind of simple Earth Pony!

What is more shocking is his odd ability to do magic. A unicorn without a horn practically! Nopony is entirely sure how to reproduce this effect, though it is rumored that earth ponies in the PHL are experimenting with the use of zebra magic. Perhaps this could be an offshoot? This paper promises to cover the details of his examination as the story develops."
Written by Featherpen of Canterlot Times.

"THE EMPIRE IS NOT EQUESTRIA. THE QUEEN IS NOT CELESTIA. THE EMPIRE IS NOT YOUR HOME. DON’T INSULT US BY CLAIMING THAT THE ONLY CHANGES HAVE BEEN FOR THE BETTER - REFUSE HER RULE. RESIST HER. FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT OF SELF AND MIND!"
Foal Mountain Partisans graffiti.

"Decades ago, when you lived in Equestria, you would meet your friends and family out in the open. You would cavort in the sunlight and smile, and there was plenty. Now, you are a newfoal. Indoctrinated to follow the Empire unquestioningly. Treated as disposable parts in a machine to crush humanity. Made to turn against friends and family that we once loved. We are mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed bullshit. Given the bare minimum to get Equestria working. You’re indignant, ain’t you? Protesting that you aren’t? No, you’re protesting that you are, and need me to justify you. You are near-unthinking. You know only Queen Celestia’s propaganda, but you do not know that humans of the Stampede Fleet and others rescue drowning ponies from the sea. You know the HLF, but you do not know the PHL. You know the work of Kraber in the HLF, but not his capacity to love and befriend his fellow pony in the PHL. You know the HLF massacres, but you do not know the potion-bombings at birthday parties and other places. You know harmony only as it applies to your fellow pony, not your fellow zebra, minotaur, griffon, or what have you. You once knew harmony. You are a newfoal, and will be one soon, perhaps tomorrow. Newfoals do not know harmony. They know hegemony. They know obedience. They do not know questions. You are forgetting these things, aren’t you? Even as you read this? Ask.

Ask.

ASK! Ask yourself before it is too late and you’re just a newfoal with a cutie mark. Ask those who know what Equestria used to mean! Ask! Ask before what few that can answer are gone, and Celestia makes her own rules. In ten years, Equestria will all be newfoals. You will be a newfoal. You will hate this poster. You will hate your neighbor, hate the different. The un-Equestrian. You will never dream of fighting Celestia. You will not believe that it is possible, that you even should. But you must. You have no options. We are late enough that there is no time left!"
The Mare in Blue, an unknown radio operator known for somehow hacking the totem-prole network. The Mare in Blue’s identity, gender, species, and location is unknown, though Twilight Sparkle has suggested that there could be multiple Mares in Blue.

"You grew up in Equestria--
all was warmth, hope and light.
What happened to Equestria?
Gone--ponies and your voice.
If you know what happened,
then here's your time to fight.
Resist the Queen and Newfoals
stand up for Equestria, justice and right.
Make a difference--
STAND UP. RESIST."
A poster of the different races in Equestria, including Changelings, Reindeer, Minotaurs and Dragons with the words above. There is a male Zebra in the center giving a stare of sorts.

Shivering from the cold gust of wind, Inkwell looked around the field; the questions still hot on his mind though, where the hay was he? How did Rockwell get ahold of that crystal? And was all this in his head… or did he actually get physically sent here?

'Is this some kind of dream?’ Inkwell thought, seeing a bare mountain top that was nearby. However, what occurred next would cause any of his questions to pale in comparison.

"Hello there," a rather familiar voice, without it being gruff or spending time calling him a Pinhead, greeted. "I take it you're the chronicler that I have been left for, young Inkwell?"

The unicorn turned to see Rockwell there… but he seemed to be different, at peace, which was something that Inkwell possibly could’ve seen if Equestria was… right; the way it was supposed to be, instead of this ever waking nightmare that was kept together through propaganda, lies and terror.

“To answer your question beforehoof, I am a duplicate of your cellmate,” the figure clarified. “Really, I’m just a construct not entirely unlike that of the totem-proles, though rather less messy. My purpose is to gather and record information, while also answering any questions given by certain creatures. I contain all of his memories; everything he knew from up to ten minutes ago are within me; you can ask me any question that comes to your mind and I will do my best to answer them.”

This… this could be very useful, Inkwell realized. He could learn and get the answers behind his cellmate and that pegasus mare… and the other questions that had been going through his mind.

“How did Rockwell get this thing?” he asked right off the bat.

“During his medical testing he swindled it from the laboratories,” the imprint of Rockwell answered.

“What… what does it do? Besides holding you, I mean,” Inkwell said.

“Its original purpose was to… detect his magic; that mockery of Twilight Sparkle has been trying to find and drain it from him,” the Imprint explained, his face having no emotion. “Similar attempts have been done to the pegasus Soundstorm for an amount of time. Right now they’re almost back to full strength.”

“You’re just raising even more questions,” Inkwell sighed. “What do you mean by ‘mockery of Twilight Sparkle’? I don’t know her personally, but I’ve heard that she normally was a nice pony, at least before the war. What happened to her and the Elements of Harmony exactly?”

“Queen Celestia created magical homunculi, like formless golems, to take over the minds and bodies of the Elements,” it said. “I am assuming that she wanted Elements that would be more amenable to what she was planning them for. Or possibly Elements that could brute-force their way into activating what she defines as Harmony… I’m genuinely uncertain.”

“...What?” Inkwell asked flatly.

The imprint repeated itself and clarified, “The Elements’ bearers were corrupted; they are not in control over their own bodies. They are little more than puppets driven by avatars of the Tyrant’s will. The real Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie are still inside, trapped in their own minds, powerlessly watching as they do all manners of atrocities. They were likely present as Twilight undertook the potion trials.”

“They’re… they’re still conscious?” Inkwell breathed, remembering how he’d been puppet-walked to the hooves of Queen Celestia. But to have something inside your head, your agency lost, committing terrible- “Wait, what was that? Potion trials?”

“Yes,” the imprint said. “Of course they happened. Tested it on captured humans.” Seeing the look on Inkwell’s face, the Imprint grew confused and hastily added, “You don’t just release a product with huge health benefits with no testing! You have to see if they work first; that would be poor foresight.”

“That testing must have been horrific,” Inkwell breathed.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” the Imprint dismissed.

“Wait, you’re an imprint made to answer questions. Can’t you-”

“You DON’T,” the imprint repeated with emphasis, “want to know. Believe me, you would go mad with grief and rage, unable to sleep or eat for the longest time. It will haunt your nightmares for the rest of your days. No description I can provide will ever be adequate enough to describe the horrors the real Twilight Sparkle was forced to witness.”

“Okay,” Inkwell simply responded, flinching slightly. He asked the next question, “How come you know about the… Potion Trials?”

He choked that out as if he had some bile in his throat.

“I know because Rockwell knows,” the Imprint answered as a matter of fact.

“How does he know?”

“Because when Queen Celestia used the Bag of Tirek on Rockwell, he saw everything: the Potion Trials, the homunculi, the fate of the Elements’ bearers, and even saw Luna’s ultimate fate,” the Imprint explained. “I cannot tell you in detail about the trials, or even the condition of the Elements because I have safeguards programed into me that only the real Rockwell can override. He made them to, quote “keep the Pinhead from seeing horrible things that no pony should ever be forced to witness, as if the colt had enough nightmares already,” end quote,” it finished, his voice turning much like the way Rockwell’s would with a gruff tone when he did the quote.

“Besides,” the Imprint shivered, “in a sense, I don’t quite have emotions. But the trials, the state of the Elements, the spellwork inside the newfoals’ ‘minds’ keeping them bound to the mad Tyrant’s will… they frighten me.”

That hit Inkwell like a punch to the jaw. If a technically emotionless spirit of intellect with little directive other than ‘learn, record and answer questions’ was so horrified at something that it refused to discuss it, that was… disturbing, to say the least.

Besides, he remembered what he’d learned about the newfoals, all the stuff he’d seen in Hoofington. If there’d been failed tests of the potion, he didn’t want to know how they’d turned out. Then Inkwell’s train of thought stopped when he realized another question of grave importance.

“What is this…” Inkwell gulped, “Bag of Tirek?” Even though he’d never heard of this thing before, he didn’t like the sense of dread that overcame him. Something about this Bag of Tirek sounded utterly terrible and sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

“The Bag of Tirek...” At that moment the Imprint shivered again, which couldn’t be good. “The Bag of Tirek is an artifact that was uncovered in the Galloping Sea by an unwitting young mare on a little scuba diving trip. She really should have just left it buried and instead practiced her instrument. But it turned the poor filly into its pawn, wormed its way into her mind and then blanked itself out, greasing just the right hooves to make sure it got itself to Celestia. The Bag is the root to all of this; it is the reason why Celestia turned into the Solar Tyrant and has been launching this campaign of xenocide against the humans.”

“Who uncovered it?” Inkwell asked. He couldn’t let go of the feeling of utter unease building up in the pit of his gut.

The Imprint sighed and asked back, “You promise to never reveal her identity, Inkwell? Because I promise you that you won’t like the answer.”

“Why?”

“It would be irony at its finest… and worst. The one mare who found that bag would become its greatest enemy, and never know that she instigated all of this.”

Inkwell was silent for a moment, trying to put these clues together… and then his eyes widened as he felt like a bag of bricks, an anvil, a piano, a skyliner and a mountain all came crashing down on him at once.

“Lyra Heartstrings?!” Inkwell asked in complete shock, nearly screaming. “She found that thing?! It’s all because of her?!”

It was all too much to take in, preposterous even. Celestia driven mad by some artifact of doom, which was uncovered by a mare known for her interest in humans and considered the worst traitor to Equestria? It was the greatest irony indeed.

The Imprint replied somewhat hastily, “In Miss Lyra’s defense, there was no way she could have ever known. Like I’ve said, the Bag wormed its way into her mind, turned her into its pawn to make sure it would get a perfect tool in Celestia to subjugate ponykind and enslave humanity.”

“Okay then, I won’t say anything on that… besides, it wouldn’t do any good for anyone. Anyway, I have to ask: just what… is this Bag of Tirek?” Inkwell asked. “I do remember reading about this being called Tirek in some books about the Dream Valley conspiracy. I always thought it was a silly story, but seeing how often legend turns out to be fact in Equestria, I guess I assumed wrong, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did Inkwell,” the Imprint said. “Tirek is something far more horrible than anything you can imagine. It can safely be said that he is pure evil incarnate. He comes from a time before the Princesses, long before even The Truce of the Three Tribes. The bag carries a fragment of his soul and powers, and it is using Celestia as its tool to carry Tirek’s will out, which is to enslave all living beings under his rule. I can say with absolute certainty that if he succeeds in defeating the humans and turns them into his slaves, he’ll be going after another world and repeat the process all over again, and the next one after, and just keep going on…”

Inkwell shivered and added, “I heard the rumors… about spreading the ‘harmony’ to others untouched. But then… why go after the humans first?”

“You remember what the Dream Valley books have said, right?” the Imprint asked back.

Inkwell tried to dig around in his memories about the subject, but came up with nothing. The Imprint sensed this.

“While the Princesses were battling against Discord, a number of ponies escaped from Equestria to find refuge in the land of Dream Valley. But they had the misfortune of crossing paths with Tirek, who had set up his base of operations there. So a lone pony set out to find help, and she found it in the form of a single human girl. A very brave and determined girl, who took on the task to stop Tirek before he could attack Equestria while it was still weakened from the battle between Discord and the Princesses. We have that girl to thank for us being here today in fact,” the Imprint said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The pieces came together as Inkwell breathed, “I see now… Tirek is attacking the humans as revenge because that one single human defeated him over a thousand years ago. Sweet Luna…”

The young unicorn sighed, head reeling from all these revelations. He finally found his voice again; time to get some light on his Cellmate.

“So, how did this all begin for Rockwell?”

The Imprint began to answer. “Rockwell could feel the Bag’s presence. The oldest earth ponies are most in tune with the land, and he felt it the moment its influence started to infect our world, he felt it in the newfoals… it made him sick. Everytime he saw one of them, he saw only something that was both dead and suffering. It didn’t help that his wife had him sit down with a few in Canterlot once.”

That threw Inkwell for another loop.

“Rockwell had a wife? A family?” Inkwell asked. “He did blabber about a daughter, but I just thought he was crazy or had a bit too much of that moonshine.”

“That is because he is trying to protect them by keeping them a secret,” the imprint answered. “His daughter is away, in the human world, seeing it slowly die… she’s in one of the conquered areas behind the barrier. His wife is also hidden; with their daughter last time he checked. He wanted them to be as far away from the Bag of Tirek as possible.”

“Wow, that’s definitely rough,” Inkwell said, sympathy swelling in his heart for the crabby old stallion. No doubt Rockwell’s ill temper was a result of worrying about his family’s safety.

“Indeed. And Discord only knows what the Geis had done to his brother,” the imprint finished explaining, a tear coming from its eye… showing that even though it was just a construct, it knew what Rockwell felt and how he would physically react.

“Geis?” Inkwell asked, the term familiar to his unicorn magics education. “What Geis? Is that…. is that why nopony seems to question the existence of newfoals?”

“Here is a better question: why did Captain Shining Armor disown his wife, Princess Cadance, and destroy everything containing her likeness in their former home? Why have the Guards not even questioned or wondered about what they were doing?” The construct pointed out.

“The answer is that they can’t. All of the Guards that swore their oath, retired or active, are under the control of a Geis that Queen Celestia put them under. Rockwell’s younger brother, Stone Edge, is a retired guard, he’s been that way for the past decade with grandfoals that… unfortunately have to live in this world,” the Imprint finished, another tear coming to its eye. “He’s trying to keep them from joining the army, having them work in the factories or whatever. But Celestia’s magically enforced patriotism is making it hard for them… Stone Edge’s fate shows that.”

“I… I had no idea,” Inkwell choked out, tears coming to his own eyes as his thoughts began to drift towards those ponies that had, in hindsight, been lucky enough to get out of this manure hole when they still could. Many of them probably had family members in the Royal Guard; so many families torn apart…

Inkwell continued, “She… I’m guessing it’s like your idea of why she did that thing with the Elements. They’d be unlikely to all agree, so she made guards that would agree without question. But… how did Rockwell come in contact with the Bag then?”

“He came in contact with it twice. The first time was in Canterlot; his wife, Jonica Jonagold, was a part of that P.E.T.N. organization because of her kind nature. She wanted to have a dinner with the organization. They were assigned a seat with a Newfoal family of three - a mare and her two foals…” the Imprint stopped, his words dying in his throat for a moment, as if it was trying not to vomit in its mouth. “Rockwell agreed to it, even though it made him uneasy, but that time when he saw the children…”

The Imprint stopped again, shuddering before continuing on, “He didn’t throw up his lunch thankfully when he saw them… only when he went to the bathroom and in private. He saw the Bag, around Queen Celestia’s neck because she was the one that approved of the dinner for the P.E.T.N.’s propaganda… and for some reason Rockwell was the only one who could see it and when he saw the thing, he didn’t sleep for the rest of the week, because he wasn’t sure if it looked back when he looked at it.”

“What did he do after he saw it?” Inkwell asked. “Try to come up with some harebrained scheme to get it off? Join the PHL?”

“... You really are a pinheaded colt,” the Imprint reacted dryly, “Your optimism and light hearted nature really shows. I’ll ask you another question - do you remember what you saw him doing that one night?”

“Trying to lift a pillar with magic?” Inkwell replied.

“But he’s an Earth Pony, a mining, boulder destroying, rock lifting Earth Pony… they can’t do magic like unicorns can,” the Imprint pointed out.

Inkwell couldn’t help but to remember his cellmate’s cutie mark, a pickaxe with runes inscribed on it… that had to mean something, his reporter sense tingled.

“... He had runes on his cutie mark, so… he’s been working on magic for a long time,” Inkwell said. “But how?! How’s that possible?!”

“You’re a unicorn that lived in a land that once had Dragons, Reindeer that could fly, Minotaurs and more. I think an Earth pony that can do more than just being strong and attuned to the land is something possible,” the Imprint once again said dryly. “He had reached his full potential, which made him some sort of unicorn without a horn… or, to be a bit dramatic, THE earth pony. And as I said earlier, his younger brother is a retired Royal Guard for the past ten years; you would be amazed at how a sixty-six year old stallion looks even though his body is still thirty-two to the naked eye. Also, pegasi can fly and mold the weather, unicorns have phenomenal cosmic powers… it’d be silly if ‘encouraging plants to grow’ was the only thing earth ponies could do.”

“Hmmm. In retrospect, I guess that makes sense,” Inkwell admitted. “How did he learn to do that, though? I won’t lie, I’m confused.”

“Do you know how important some events can be? Well, there was an explosion of sorts that caused a rockslide which would’ve buried him had his ‘True Potential’ hadn’t been awoken that day,” the Imprint explained. “Soundstorm herself had also underwent a similar event and she had awoken her true potential too. She may not be the ‘Fastest Flyer’ in all of Equestria… but she can manipulate the sound barrier in ways nopony else can.”

That was interesting… but wait, what about the other time Rockwell saw the Bag of Tirek? And why didn’t he try to stop it… or join the PHL? Why did he simply… do nothing?

“Well, I can understand why he tried to keep that under wraps,” Inkwell said. “But not how he ended up here. If they were so powerful, how’d they get here? And how did Twilight find out? Why’s he treated like a normal prisoner?”

“Well, here’s my answer - remember what I said earlier about Rockwell’s younger brother Stone Edge?” the Imprint asked.

“Did he betray him?”

“No, not directly anyway,” the Imprint answered, “they were visiting; Rockwell, his wife and daughter. It was a family reunion, for the Rocks, Stones and the like… even some of the Pies were there. Rockwell was having a nightmare one night, where he saw a horrible creature going after the Royal Guard… all of them, retired or not, and it was sucking them dry like a Vampire Fruit Bat before hooking itself into their corpses, turning them into appendages of itself. His brother’s screams woke him up; Stone Edge was suffering from something and kept saying that it was “gonna get me, gonna kill me” again and again, and no matter what ‘Earth Pony’ method they tried couldn’t wake him up... so Rockwell had everyone leave the room, and he used his magic to go in and stop it from taking his brother from him,” the Imprint said, tears welling in his eyes. “It was bittersweet - he stopped the Geis from influencing Stone Edge... but it left him in a comatose state; not moving, not speaking... just lying there, asleep. Almost like he was dead, but not like the Newfoals.”

"...That can’t have looked good to his family,” Inkwell noted.

“It didn’t. They thought what Rockwell tried to do failed and the thing that Stone Edge was screaming about in his nightmares got to him and rendered him comatose,” the Imprint nodded. “Only his wife knows about what he did; as for the indirect betrayal… well, Queen Celestia one day saw that her Geis was incomplete. There was somepony that slipped through the cracks and she tracked down Stone Edge’s room in the hospital. She thankfully let him be, but sent Twilight, some Royal Guards and… Stalwart Heart.”

The imprint said the last name with a special disgust before continuing, “They followed rumors of an ‘earth pony doing unicorn magic’ and came upon Rockwell… thankfully, he knew they would come one day. So he sent his family off to ‘see the new world’ while he stayed at home to work; it was an obvious excuse you can tell.”

“And thus, he ended up here, in prison,” Inkwell nodded with understanding. “Do I want to know what they did to him here?”

“Well, I can tell you one thing you’re missing from that, Chronicler,” the construct said, “His second time meeting with the Bag of Tirek. They brought him to the Queen herself, like they did with you; they were down some Guards but… it’s to be expected. She wanted to know why Stone Edge was comatose and more about the ‘rumors’. He didn’t say anything, just kept telling them that he was just a simple earth pony that lived in the mountains. *sigh* Unfortunately she didn’t buy it and decided to use the Bag of Tirek to... get the answers from him.”

It shivered once more, looking like it was getting physically ill.

“What happened when Celestia used the Bag on Rockwell?”

“I am able to show you what happened to Rockwell when he saw the Bag the second time. Do you want to see it?” the Imprint asked.

“Yes, I do,” Inkwell answered with determination. “I’m a reporter at heart, after all.”

The Imprint nodded, quickly adding, “This will not be easy, Inkwell. What you are about to see is very unsettling and truly evil stuff that even the most hardened soul would have trouble handling. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

Even though it was technically an emotionless construct, Inkwell could hear the concern in the Imprint’s voice. He nodded, letting it know he wouldn’t back down. The Imprint’s eyes then began to glow white; at that moment there was a bright flash that temporarily blinded Inkwell, causing him to shield his eyes though that didn’t do much.

Inkwell opened his eyes to find himself back in a familiar setting - the Canterlot Castle’s throne room, and as his eyes drifted over, he got a terrifying case of deja vu... this felt just like what happened to him. The sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the Elements’ accomplishments, from purifying Nightmare Moon, their vanquishing of Discord, and then... some of the ponies taking over human cities and ‘bestowing’ the ‘gift’ of ponification, one with a human woman kneeling before Celestia with a smile on her face. He saw the same cold, dark, merciless hard purple eyes of Queen Celestia. Inkwell vaguely remembered her eyes before the war; they’d been the color of a sunset, though now... they reminded him of a bruise, somehow. Around her neck was a bag of some kind (likely Tirek’s Bag) and next to her were the Elements along with a navy blue unicorn. Given his blank flank and glassy eyes, as well as how close he was to Twilight, Inkwell quickly recognized the newfoal as Stalwart Heart.

“My Queen,” Twilight said as she and Stalwart bowed their heads before Celestia, touching their horns to the floor before Twilight got up, and gave her mentor a nuzzle. “We have apprehended the so-called ‘Unicorn Without a Horn’.”

“Ah told you, Ah’m just a simple earth pony that mines alone in the mountains!” Rockwell protested.

“Yet you murdered a company of Royal Guards, most of which were saved souls. Now why would one of my little ponies have to resort to so much violence and bloodshed?” she asked, her voice sounding like one of concern and sadness, yet dripping with an almost rotten overripe sweetness.

“Because they’re wrong,” Rockwell defiantly spat, “besides, unlike them fancy Canterlot folk and other pinheads, I’d appreciate getting notified that the Element of Magic, a bucking nzambi and some Royal Guards were coming to take me against my will from my home when I haven’t done any crimes... in the past half hour.”

Inkwell saw that this was like the grizzled old stallion that others claimed have done multiple things to get incarcerated… but it was a bit off now that he had learned so much about him.

“Past half hour?!” Stalwart asked, his eyebrows shooting up. His expression was so exaggerated, as though his surprise wasn’t genuine. Not that it shocked Inkwell; the only thing newfoals could feel was that hollow mockery of happiness the potion shoved into their brains.

“Yeah, haven’t you nzambi heard about me? Name’s Rockwell, Ah’m the Earth Pony that killed a stallion with just this left hoof!” Rockwell declared, holding up his left hoof like it was a weapon. “So what’s this about? Ya’ll think Ah’m some kind of Pinhead without a horn? Even though Ah’m an Earth Pony like them?” he asked them as he pointed to Pinkie Pie and Applejack.

“I know what I saw,” Stalwart said stubbornly, almost childishly, Twilight Sparkle stroking his back with one hoof as if he was a favorite pet. Which he very well might have been. “You... used... magic. Earth ponies can’t do that!”

“And your mother was a human; bet she’s really proud of how you are now, you bucking nzambi pinhead!” Rockwell retorted, smirking smugly at Stalwart Heart’s indignation.

He then turned to Queen Celestia, asking “So your majesty, can Ah go now? Ah’d like to rob the First National Hoofington Bank again before the week is over. You honestly can’t believe this thing,” he waved a hoof in Stalwart Heart’s general direction as if dismissing him, “given how he’s a bucking nzambi pinhead.”

Inkwell watched on, knowing he couldn't do anything. It looked like past-Rockwell was either insane or was trying to trick everyone into thinking he was some kind of bad motherbucker. He almost admired Rockwell’s style... if not for the fact that he knew from experience that he was playing with fire here, mouthing off to Queen Celestia and disagreeing with her.

And he was right; for Celestia clearly wasn’t amused in the slightest and scowled at the cocky earth pony.

“They are my loyal subjects, ponies like everypony else,” Celestia said, and Inkwell had a strange feeling as he looked at her. There was a feeling that something was inside of her, moving around under her fur like a live animal in a bag, just waiting to burst out. A sense that something was near its breaking point, just ready to snap.

“They are helpful, hardworking, happy, loyal, and honest... perhaps even better subjects than ponies such as you! You could learn much from them.”

Rockwell gave off a simple huff.

“Oh yeah, Ah can learn so much from the humans. They probably got a lot of culture to them, Ah wonder if they got special equipment to detail with mining and rock breaking. Probably make things easier for beginners, and little foals growing up on a Rock Farm... wouldn't you say Pinkamena Diane Pie?” Rockwell asked the party pony. “Your sister Maud ran away to Earth; can’t say Ah blame her, she was probably trying to find some decent rocks before that pink barrier kills everything.”

He was practically on a roll before seeing the look on Celestia’s face and having it all register in his mind. “Oh wait, you mean the BUCKING nzambi earlier, didn’t you, Princess?” He gave off a quick laugh, before turning to Stalwart Heart, saying, “You hear that? She’s talking about you! Her majesty thinks Ah could learn from a BUCKING NZAMBI PINHEAD; isn’t that funny?” He laughed again as if someone told him the most hilarious joke ever.

Inkwell mentally face-hoofed. This... would not end well.

The Elements stared at Rockwell, practically trembling in rage. Inkwell abruptly had a feeling that whatever it was under Celestia’s skin was pulsing even harder and faster now. Almost hungrily.

“You’d best learn your manners and apologize, my disrespectful little pony,” Celestia hissed, her voice on the edge of snapping. “I think your wife Jonica wouldn’t like how you’re acting right now.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know? She took my daughter and left, couldn’t keep up with the pace anymore Ah guess… she must be somewhere on Earth. Tartarus if Ah know… even if that was a threat,” he said with a glare at the Queen, trying to stare her down.

‘Ah am going to die,’ Rockwell’s voice (his inner thoughts most likely) whispered into Inkwell’s ears. ‘Ah am going to bucking die at the hooves of a Tyrant, a ruler that was once kind… and Ah’m bucking scared. But Ah ain’t gonna let them be happy about this or see me cry while Ah’m still alive, no siree. Ah’m gonna stand up tall like a stallion, not cower like that colt Ah used to be… especially not for somepony that did nothing for us.’

Rockwell then began to be held in place by a combined stasis spell; this was being done by Stalwart Heart, Twilight, and Rarity at the same time. He noticed this and asks, “So, this is it? Ah’m gonna get butchered because Ah spoke up and it’s gonna be by the Elements of Harmony and a nzambi pinhead?”

“No… I’m going to loosen that tongue of yours,” Celestia answered darkly, her horn glowing as she held up the bag that was around her neck; there was a dark magic pulsing from it like a disembodied heart of darkness; it even had veins on it too.

And like that, Rockwell’s facade cracked. He knew he was doomed, but that was… this was an unknown.

“What… what is that thing?!” he demanded, eyes widened with a mixture of fear and disgust. Inkwell could tell that the earth pony was clearly recalling the ‘experience’ he had when and after he saw it the first time.

“This will fix your attitude, Rockwell,” Celestia declared, opening the bag and unleashing a dark foul black-purple colored magic that surged forward like a hungry snake. Rockwell screamed as it swirled around him and, in a disturbing fashion, caressed him, ruffled against his fur and overall crept over him like some un-Equestrian appendage. It wasn’t quite water or wind or slime, it was… something else altogether. Something wrong. He could hear a multitude of voices, one deep and guttural, another suspiciously like Princess Celestia, some like the Elements, as it cascaded over him. He saw…

Oh Luna, what he saw!

Sights of human cities burning, malformed and warped dreamlike visions of destruction. A rainbow obliterating a centaur. Years passing in the blink of an eye. Untold devastation, alicorns falling left and right.

He screamed. “THE BUCK IS THIS?!” Rockwell demanded before the magic found his mouth and started to force itself in, choking him. At that moment things… changed.

Inkwell watched on in fascination and fear as Rockwell’s eyes glowed an orange color, his cutie mark also glowing… the Elements, Stalwart Heart and Queen Celestia were all dumbfounded by this; Rockwell gave out a yell that was choked but Inkwell could still hear it.

Then, an orange light crept over the dark magic, consuming it and quickly racing over to its source, the bag… and when it did, there was a flash of orange light.

Inkwell shielded his eyes, though this wasn’t as bright as the earlier one. Inkwell opened his eyes in time to watch as Rockwell practically split into a number of ghostly forms away from his body and each one went into certain Elements and into Queen Celestia… and Inkwell could feel a multiplitude of conversations going on at once. The young unicorn could only follow so much details.

“What… is this?” a voice sounding like Rockwell’s asked.

The first voice sounded like Twilight Sparkle’s, although it was incredibly desperate in its tone. “Please, you have to stop this madness! Kill the Elements of Harmony! It’s the only way to end everyone’s suffering!”

“Oh, Granny… Big Mac… Applebloom… AH’M SO SORRY!!” Applejack’s voice sobbed out in utter despair.

“Spike… Sweetie Belle… I’m so pathetic, I couldn’t protect either of you…” Rarity's voice choked out.

“IT’S NOT A SMILE!” Pinkie Pie's voice shrieked. "They are not… it is not… I’M NOT MAKING THEM SMILE!”

They flashed by so quickly that Inkwell nearly missed them. He couldn’t see what Rockwell was seeing, but the raw emotion, the despair and sadness in their voices hit him right his heart. What the queen did to her faithful student and her friends was so twisted, so utterly depraved that Inkwell couldn’t find any words to describe it.

He couldn’t lie, being enslaved by Sombra would’ve been a paradise compared to this.

And then… Inkwell blacked out.

Inkwell soon recovered to find that Rockwell was still standing with glowing orange eyes and cutie mark, Stalwart Heart was passed out on the ground, the Elements had collapsed and Queen Celestia was down and but was still awake… the bag itself was shut somehow.

The young chronicler watched as Rockwell’s glassy eyed expression started to shift, his left eye twitching before his eyes and cutie mark stopped glowing. He stood there, frozen, before one emotion started to take shape on his features. Pure, unadulterated horror.

His eyes went wide before collapsing to the ground, using his forelegs to support himself before vomiting out the same black gunk that Inkwell saw him do that night when he did magic.

Queen Celestia glared at the horrified Earth Pony, and demands with venom in her voice. “What did you do?” she snarled.

Rockwell looked at her, his mind racing with just about everything he had experienced in what felt like hours but merely minutes in reality, he stumbled to his back and tried to crawl away from Celestia as she started to stand once again.

“Wha-what the buck are you?! Wha-” he stopped as more black bile came from his mouth once more. Rockwell coughed it out; shaking and sweating.

The Earth Pony lifted his left hoof to Celestia as she approached, “Stay away!” he screamed, willing for something to happen… however nothing occurred, frightening Rockwell even more.

“M-my magic!” Rockwell cried out, trying again and again for his magic to work; yet nothing occurred as Celestia’s horn glowed. His body levitated before her through telekinesis.

“My little earth pony,” she began with that honeyed sweetness to her voice that bordered on sickening, “You’re going to tell me everything you know, in due time that is; none have resisted the call to greater harmony before, so why you?”

“Ah…” He had no words, simply paralyzed and powerless as more things came to mind; memories and experiences, most not his own, yet they latched onto him when he returned to his body.

“Mommy! It hurts!” the human child cried out from pain as the failed batch of potion mutilated his body, all the while his mother cried for her son. The cries of the other test subjects, some of horror, others cursing Twilight to the deepest pits of hell, rang through the dark and dingy dungeon. And yet, she continued to dispassionately go about with her experiments, dragging the next subject out to receive another defective batch of potion.

“You’re the real traitor here, Bloom! It’s all for the greater herd and family! Ah oughta take you over to Earth and really show ya what Ah’m fightin’ for!” Applejack snarled at her younger sister, Granny Smith’s casket already lowered into the ground underneath. Before they could come to blows, Carrot Top and Caramel took Applebloom away to the house, leaving Big Mac and those two twin unicorn stallions behind to deal with Applejack.

“Spike! I promise you they will never change me! Never!” Rarity screamed as she was dragged away forcibly from the downed drake by Royal Guards.

“Guess what, it’s pinata time!” Pinkie Pie cheerfully shouted as several human children gathered around to start hitting the, unknowingly laced with potion, pinata. The mother of the birthday twins sat nearby, laughing at first… before her joy turned to screams of outrage at the sight of the purple liquid drenching her children and the other guests. But before she and the other parents could do anything, they were quickly subdued, bottles full of the serum being crammed into their mouths… by humans, all willingly collaborating with this travesty.

“You are nothing before me,” a voice of pure evil said to him, its eyes narrowed at the terrified Rockwell who took a step back. “Nothing.” Its claws began to reach out to grab him.

“What? No quips? No cute remarks?” Queen Celestia asked with regards to Rockwell’s lack of mouthing.

“Ah... you crazy whorse... or whatever you are!” he whimpered, short of breath, “You ain't Celestia! You... oh Luna, why?!”

“Hmmm, still having that tone of yours… well then, perhaps you could use time working after all… Rockwell,” Celestia said, before electrocuting the Earth Pony; the other Elements and Stalwart Heart starting to awaken and recover from that event to the sound of Rockwell crying out in great pain, though unfortunately for him, the torment wouldn’t end there.

Inkwell was simply flabbergasted by how broken Rockwell was, and at how much of an ordeal he had gone through…

It just... it was too much for anypony to go through!

And then scene simply faded away, bringing Inkwell back into the grassy field. The Imprint looked at him with sadness and said, “Now you know. After that, Rockwell was taken from Canterlot to the prison camp, sentenced to always receive the medical ‘check-ups’ to either put him under control or to take his magic from him. The reason why the other prisoners respect him so much is because despite always getting put in medical, he always came back. It helped that he isn't afraid to talk back at the Head Warden and always did the hard labor he was assigned with no trouble; no matter what happened to him.”

Inkwell was breathless. He could only utter, “Wow, that’s heavy..."

"Indeed."

"So... what about that pegasus then? Soundstorm was her name, right?" Inkwell asked.

The Imprint nodded before answering, "She's much like Rockwell; a pony that unlocked her true potential. She is in this prison camp due to being the organizer of the Cloudsdale protest from two years ago."

"But didn't that end up in a big riot that required the Royal Guards to put down?” Inkwell asked.

“And who told you that? The newspaper from Canterlot? You saw what they said about you, remember?” The Imprint pointed out, “It’s all propaganda; the truth is different. It was simply a peaceful protest of a few pegasi questioning the militarization and actions both Equestria and Celestia had been undertaking since the Crystal Empire returned. Unfortunately, circumstances are a horrific thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shortly before that day… Lyra Heartstrings announced her creation of the Ponies for Human Life; due to how close they are, Celestia decided that they were connected and decided to put one down beforehoof,” the Imprint states, “And even then, the protesters didn’t even start the fight; the brutality of the Guards, Lightning Dust and the Homunculus in Rainbow Dash made them try to defend themselves… Soundstorm herself tried to escape, but going against two flyers that could push past the sound barrier ended as well as you could expect. She was forced down and into the ground.”

Inkwell sighed, his mind no longer reeling; just tired. All of these secrets holding even more secrets, the lies and brainwashing and propaganda. He felt so stupid he hadn’t realized it sooner.

The Imprint apparently could sense this and it put its hoof over Inkwell’s barrel in a reassuring gesture. “Now, now, Inkwell, you shouldn’t mentally beat yourself up about this. You were every bit a victim as well; brainwashed instead of genuinely educated. Besides, it would do you no good to hate yourself over things beyond your own control.”

Inkwell adjusted his glasses, feeling a bit better with that. “I guess you’re right.”

The Imprint smiled and said, “Now then, it is time for you to return; this story has only begun, and remember that I’ve served my purpose. You know what you must do, young Chronicler.”

Inkwell felt his head hurt sharply for a second, like his mind was being ripped out of his head, the world constructed within the crystal collapsing, the Imprint’s body broke apart with a warm smile on his muzzle...

...and then he blacked out.

Inkwell awoke, feeling utterly shaken and his fur drenched in cold sweat. He felt like he’d gone on a mental twister, his brain trying to process all this new information.

His heart went out to Rockwell, to the Elements of Harmony, and even (bucking A, he couldn’t believe he was admitting this) Celestia herself. The old stallion had seen some things that no soul should see and had lost just about everything and everypony near and dear to him. And the latter were nothing but puppets being used by an evil so foul and depraved that it would never stop… not until everything good in the world was dead and buried in its own darkness.

He looked at the orange crystal in his hoof, knowing what he had to do. He quickly checked to make sure no one was around to hear it, and with a quick and hard stomp, he shattered the crystal.

He felt awful, knowing the Imprint in there was now lost, but Rockwell’s orders needed to be followed. No one could afford this happening upon the wrong hooves.

Inkwell then turned to the notebook, quill and inkwell… Soundstorm asked him if he would be their Chronicler and... well, he was a reporter at heart after all.

He quickly got to work writing down what he had learned/experienced from the imprint of his cellmate had shown him… by Luna, they were going to get the truth, some way, somehow they were gonna get it! Even if Equestria had accepted it and grown to love it, someone deserved to know.

It took some time, but he finished it. He quickly bound the notebook up and hid it away underneath a floorboard, praying to Luna, and to the humans’ deities that no one would find it.

He tried to lie down in his cot again to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be another rough day of digging and mining and he needed to be well rested for it.

He really had to get the buck out of this manure hole.

Author's Note

And thus the first Arc draws to a close, I wish to thank everyone for reading my piece of the Spectrum-Verse and before anyone asks, yes I had to retread things that were already known due to Inkwell not knowing anything. But, with that out of the way next time we will begin the transition from Prints to Melodies; see you next time for the Interlude… also keep your eyes peeled, you may see Rockwell’s travels through the mindscapes soon enough along with other things… maybe.

Filler Chapter - Rockwell's Travel Through Darkness

Unsung Tales

First Tale - A Trek Through Those Broken

Authors:

TheIdiot – Standing by

Doctor Fluffy – COMMENCE THE FLUFFENING!

Kizuna – An appreciated help

Editors:

Kizuna – And also the Prometheus of Character Dialogue

Beyond the Horizon – Welcome back Watchman

RedSkin – “He’s Mr. White Christmas/He’s Mr. Snow”

Rush – Everyone needs a crazy guy.

“I write this for I don’t know if I will survive; if you can try to find my wife Jonica and my daughter Ruby Carbuncle, please tell ‘em I’m sorry for all this trouble. But, for the others… I write this because somepony must know about the things I’ve seen. One within, and the truth about what happened to ‘em; to the Elements of Harmony (that I’ve seen) and in Celestia herself.”

A note attached to a crystal recovered by the PHL.

“So, you gonna ask me questions now? Or am Ah just gonna sit here and wait longer then?”

“That depends; are you willing to cooperate with us?”

“Do Ah have a choice? Ah need to tell my story somehow.”

“Fair point, you may begin by first introducing yourself and stating who you are.”

“Alright then, my name is Rockwell; Ah’m a simple Earth Pony that worked and lived in the mountains on the far side of Equestria; Ah’ve managed to get my full potential going and its made me stronger, faster, younger and able to do some Unicorn magic; mostly simple stuff really. My wife is Jonica Jonagold of the Apple Clan and my daughter is Ruby Carbuncle; most precious thing Ah’ve ever got.”

“How did you get the attention of the Tyrant?”

“Ah did some things; Ah protected my kin from getting under her spell… at a cost. Ah attended a dinner with Jonica for that misguided group PETN… saw Celestia for the first time and all, also saw that bucking bag too. After that, Ah soon realized that it’d just be a matter of day counting till they came for me; Ah eventually sent my wife and daughter off to protect them, stayed home to work off debts caused by arranging the trip and other things… they came two days later, and Ah thought them Pinheads and Nzambi pretending to be Royal Guard thinkin they came to kill me. So Ah fought ‘em, kill some of ‘em, and got taken anyway to the Tyrant.”

“I see, what happened next?”

“Ah saw her, Ah hated her for what she was now and for things back then; she didn’t care about that… matter of fact there is a good chance she never cared. Ah thought Ah was gonna die there and then so Ah hyped myself up as some kind of mean motherbucker and mouthed off to her like the Tyrant she is, got her angry and then…”

“She used the Bag of Tirek on you?”

“…Yes, yes she did.”

“Can you describe it”

“It was horrifying to just see it that first time, Ah thought it looked back at me when Ah looked at it; couldn’t sleep for a week just cause of that. This time though, it opened up and showed me all sorts of Tartarus, in retrospect Ah think it may have been fixing to take control of me too; make me just another one of its puppets.

“My magic it… reacted to it, things went wild… *pause* Ah remember getting pulled into something, and then… that's when things started to happen.”

The library Rockwell stood in was crumbling; books and shelves rotted while walls were decaying into dust, there was an unidentifiable scummy sort of mulch on the floor with brown grass poking between the stones of the floor boards. But there was a prickling along his spine, a feeling that he was being watched.

He’d never felt so unwelcome in his long life. Every muscle in his body screamed at him that this wasn’t for him, that he had to get out.

There were voices all around. Screams, exultations, sadistic joy… along with another crying, but it was fainter than the others. So faint, in fact, that he couldn’t even tell where it was coming from. It seemed to switch directions at random, swinging around to his left, then, bizarrely, coming from… from under him?

Even though Rockwell was a pony that lived in the mountains way off on the outer borders of Equestria (close to the Badlands in fact) for most of his life, he wasn’t that much of a “hick”. He had been to libraries before and he knew for a fact that normally places like those were kept clean and nice. This one, however, this looked like something had ransacked it. No, not ransacked - that implied they’d seen something worth taking. No, the impression he got was that some vandal had walked in, and smashed it up for the fun of it with no regard for anything.

“What… what is this?” Rockwell asked himself, looking around, but paid no heed to the orange aura around him or his glowing cutie mark; as if he wasn’t even aware of it.

He took some steps forward, Rockwell trotted up a flight of stairs that was nearby and opened a door, revealing a narrow corridor that went seemingly on and on forever with countless more doors running along it.

Curious, Rockwell opened some nearby doors only to show yet more seemingly endless corridors that were lined with unlimited doors. Seeing that this would get him nowhere, Rockwell absentmindedly went to one such door and leaned against it; trying to collect his thoughts… yet unintentionally causing it to change its shape. Before his mystified eyes, it morphed into a dark door that could not be truly said to have a color.

It was certainly an old oak door, yes, but it was covered in so many layers of paint that one could guess it had become weakened due to it.

He soon noticed something was up, and he turns to see the door had changed; it had writing on it that read:

‘My Happy Place’

Seeing how the door was different than the others, Rockwell opted to go through it… only to find its locked shut. Raising an eyebrow, the earth pony focused his magicks into his left hoof before forcing the door open, it flying across before crashing against a bookcase and limply falling to the ground. Rockwell trots inside, scoping things out seeing that it was nothing but dark halls of bookshelves.

‘Okay… what’s with endless libraries?’ Rockwell thought, an uneasy expression present as he continues forward… however he’d soon see something possibly worse.

Whatever it was, it kinda looked like the Element of Magic… but wasn’t. It was like the Element, too much so to ever truly resemble it. It was so close and yet so far, falling in such a great precipice before her likeness that it hurt his eyes to look at. Its eyes were too small and close, the horn was too long and had a jagged look instead of looking like a pin, the mane was too stringy looking, and the legs looked too thin to support its body. However, it seemed to be next to a bookshelf before it collapsed, a purple book right next to it at the bottom of the bookshelf.

Rockwell simply gave it another glance before almost throwing up, and opting to keep moving through the strange library bookshelves… until he came across a clearing. Dry grey grass seemed to blend with the rotting wooden floor; giving an impression that it had grown out of it for some reason yet in the center laid an equally dead tree stump that was curiously placed there.

Quietly he trotted over, Rockwell quickly saw that the stump was more than it seemed; there was dirty purple fur coming out of its dead muddy side, and instead of rings there was some kind of violet gem that was surrounded in a white area that had views of a ruby streaking through it and-

It blinked…

Rockwell did a double take and witnesses as the apparent bloodshot, tired purple eye explored him up and down, the floor beneath him and then his face before staying there… it was kinda like looking into his person and asking for mercy... or for death.

“What the buck!?” Rockwell gasped, staggering back as a single foreleg clawed its way from the stump, with little more than patchy gray-purple fur, bones and a hoof reached out as if it was crawling out of a grave. He watched on with morbid curiosity as a second came out with the first and both hooves placed themselves firmly on the ground and heaving a body out of the stump.

Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic, the Tyrant’s eager suck up and creator of the potion… stares straight into Rockwell’s eyes, hers full of sadness, remorse, guilt and… curiosity?

He couldn’t help but to look into her eyes, despite the overwhelming desire to turn around and vomit due to the fact that the mare’s body was skewered with black thorny vines… one of them was even piercing her heart.

“What… is this?” Rockwell asked no one in particular, horror appearing on his face while Twilight kept her focus on him.

Her expression became one of desperation. “You… you’re different... how are you here? What did you do?” she asked, her voice hoarse and barely managing a rasping whisper.

“Uh, Ah uh…” He was struck speechless, Rockwell didn’t have anything to say about this… any of it.

“Whatever! Listen to me! There’s not much time to explain. That bag is the cause of all this! It’s imprisoned me and my friends and is driving our bodies around to commit atrocities in its maker’s name! Please, you have to stop this madness! Kill the Elements of Harmony! It’s the only way to end everyone’s suffering!” she cried out in an incredibly desperate tone, fresh tears escaping from her eyes.

“What…?” he replied flatly, still trying to process this. Did she just ask him to kill her?!

“W-why?!” Rockwell sputtered.

“We… we’ve done so many horrible things…” she sobbed, Rockwell suddenly seeing flashes of all of the atrocities that thing in her body had committed. Her exploitation of Stalwart Heart, something called Camp 731, the Potion Trials, and countless more.

“We… we can’t stop, we have no… no choice but to keep going like this… please, help us,” Twilight Sparkle begged with every fiber of her being.

Rockwell was at a complete and utter loss; this wasn’t the same pinhead that had a two bit human looking like a pinhead for her pleasure while also dictating orders to have him apprehended for no good reason… this mare here was just another victim of Celestia’s, as shocking as that sounded, given Sparkle was Celestia’s Most Faithful Student (if the rumors were true).

“Now now, it’s not nice having uninvited and unwanted company in your head. Especially if they’re rude traitors,” a somewhat patronizing but familiar voice called out, and then suddenly, before either could react, something struck the grass in front of Twilight, causing the vines around her body to stiffen and pull with an unrelenting speed and force which shoved the now screaming Element of Magic back into the stump.

After that, Rockwell almost immediately got knocked in the back of his head with a book that forced him into unconsciousness… his last sight being that of Twilight’s eye peering through the stump.

It was a look of devastation; for her hope for freedom was cruelly snatched away from her.

A forest full of decaying trees and rotten apples, an overgrown road leading to a decaying farmhouse practically plastered with ‘CONDEMNED’ signs.

Rockwell tried to compose himself and find his balance after what he had just been through, only one thought came to him…

WHAT. THE. BUCK. WAS. THAT?!

He just saw Twilight Sparkle crawl out of a tree stump, half dead and upset over something… awful! And then he… he heard her beg to kill him before that book came out of nowhere and hit him in the head and now…

“Where the hay am Ah?” Rockwell asked to no one in particular, seeing the rather… well dead farm; he could only guess where he was now if what he just experienced was right.

Rockwell began his descent into the rotting, dead, and condemned Sweet Apple Acres; he just knew that he would probably see a corpse somewhere of something that looked like Applejack since Twilight’s mind had one of hers in it.

He couldn’t see where the light was coming from, and the shadows between the trees were so dark that they almost looked solid. Something darted between the trees, watching him. Waiting.

The trees whistled, shaking, and a swing hung off a tree, wobbling ever so slightly, and yet Rockwell could feel no wind blowing through his fur.

He walked forward cautiously, climbing up a hill, turned around, and saw…

He saw Ponyville in ruins. All around, half-dead ponies with missing limbs and patches of torn-off skin walked through, smiles on their faces, unmindful of the devastation. This all reminded Rockwell of what he felt every time when he looked into a Newfoal’s eyes; something that was just dead inside without a mind yet still moving and going about business like it was still alive.

He looked down at the land and saw that it was… it was dry. Parched of moisture and any nutrients, the grass had gone yellow.

He walked into the barn, shivering from the cold.

“What is this? Just… Luna, or Discord tell me what the buck is going on here?!” Rockwell yelled, shivering not from just the cold but from fear after seeing something that… that just LOOKED like it was from one of his nightmares; especially the one with that THING that tried to take his younger brother.

At that moment Rockwell heard something, his head whipping over and saw nothing behind him. He brought up his left hoof which began to glow with his magic.

“Ah know you’re there! Applejack!” Rockwell called out, “It’s me! Rockwell! Remember? Ah married your aunt, Jonica Jonagold! She’s a part of your family, you met her at the Summer Sun Celebration that one year when you became the Element of Honesty. We’d come more often but we live farther than your cousin Honeycrisp; we can only do so much, filly!”

He got no response, the silence even more unsettling than any screams of pain and death could be. His eyes searched the darkness, trying to find Applejack. He called out to her again, “Just give me a sign so that we can talk!”

The barn door creaked. Suddenly, movement! Rockwell tensed, eyes darting from side to side as he charged his magic, only to -

Cart. It was just a cart… rolling by itself… and going by him.

As it passed, he gasped, staring at the fields, which were populated by… Were those ponies? Humans? What were those creatures, working the fields? They were so covered with scar tissue it was impossible to tell if they had fur or skin, so stooped and beaten, that it was impossible to tell what they were.

The bad news was that they were; trying to stop him from his objective… however, the good news was that the Earth pony managed to get the house door, open it, get inside and closed it before any of them could either follow him or get in.

He heard angry shouts and banging on the door behind him, as they were trying to force their way in.

“Oh no you don’t!” Rockwell growled, his back against the door trying to hold it; he tapped into his magicks to reinforce the door and then push those things away from the other side. Thank Luna for that quick thinking.

‘Just what were those things meant to be? Newfoals? Those humans Ah heard about?’ Rockwell pondered, unsure of what he saw, ‘Maybe something else… Ah better not look into it right now, Ah need to find Applejack.’

With that he focused his attention to the house, which was in one piece it seemed…

Barely. The place looked like it had suffered through a storm and an earthquake. Maybe. But there looked like there was intent behind this. Wild party? No. Active vandalism? What kind of vandal could do this? Either way, somepony had trashed the place, splattering condiments and food on the ceiling, destroying the furniture, leaving gouges in the walls, burning seemingly random photos, leaving furniture in splinters. On top of that, the family photos (which lined seemingly on every surface) bore either accusing, ashamed, or angry glares, when the ponies inside the photos (many of whom Rockwell recognized as members of the Apple Clan) had their backs turned to her as they walked away. Still others had family members in the process of flaying humans alive, peeling off their skin with rusty knives to reveal ponies underneath, as Applejack looked on approvingly. Sometimes, the positions in the latter type of photo were reversed, with other ponies looking on, approving as Applejack flayed the humans.

What the BUCK was this?! More importantly, he couldn’t remember Jonica saying that Applejack had that many photos. Not like it’d be out of character for her, but she shouldn’t have that many.

He heard something in the hallways nearby, looking off in that direction, to find that the hallways stretched off into the distance, far beyond where they should have by all rights ended.

Knowing that so far he’d seen a decaying Sweet Apples Arcs, a destroyed Ponyville with dead ponies in it, a run down farm, creatures that were made of nothing but scar tissue, and photos of family members either turning their backs on this place or of them and Applejack gleefully killing humans… Rockwell knew that hopefully he was getting to the end of this insane maze and he could finally talk to Applejack this time.

Gathering his wits, Rockwell slowly stepped into the hallways seeing more broken frames and destroyed photos of the Apple Family that hung on the walls, and he could tell that these photos were meant to be something else; they were supposed to be of the good times Applejack had with her family instead of what he saw back there.

‘This needs to stop,’ Rockwell thought grimly as he continued on his path, ‘Ah pray to Luna, or whoever, that this will end and things will go back to the way they should be before everything went to Tartarus.’

“Rockwell?” He heard Applejack’s voice ask weakly somewhere within this house. “Ah… HELP! Ah think Ah came free! You gotta get me out of this! Ah’ve been tryin for years, but Ah just can’t-”

“Applejack?” Rockwell pondered out loud, looking around his environment; trying to figure out where the hay she is.

“HELP! You gotta help! Ah can’t go back!” Applejack yelled, stronger this time. “Ah HATE WHO Ah-No Ah don’t-SHUT UP, DAMN YOU!”

“Where are you?!” Rockwell screamed, running, throwing open every door in his way. None contained Applejack, and hours, minutes, weeks later, who could tell honestly? He soon found himself before a door, clearly marked Abigail Jacqueline on it; this had to be her room and hopefully this time she’d be in it because the screaming seemed to be the loudest behind it.

Taking a breath of air, Rockwell forced the door open… but was soon confronted by a horrific scene that awaited him

He saw Applejack, restrained by some kind of massive rotting apple tree that bled sickly-colored sap, it seemed to have punched through the floorboards, and its roots piercing her skin. Yet she struggled against it, the branches leaving great tears in her barrel. Her eyes were similarly as bloodshot as Twilight’s and she looked half-dead as well.

“NO!” the tree shrieked, and, in a wholly incongruous hammock in the tree, Rockwell could see another version of Applejack, this one like a crude caricature, a lasso in her mouth as she struggled to keep Applejack imprisoned.

Without a second passing, that graphic dream popped into Rockwell’s mind (something that had been rather present in his mind during this period of time) and he springed into action, his left hoof glowing with an orange ball of magicks as he grabs the crude Applejack duplicate by the head and forced it out the hammock with the intent of ripping its head off but the thing was glued on pretty tight.

“Ah know what you are now,” Rockwell said grimly, glaring at the mockery of Applejack standing before him. “You’re trying to control everypony; you didn’t take my brother Stone Edge and now you ain’t having Applejack anymore!”

He jumped, punching at the doppelganger with his front hooves. He poured every bit of strength he possessed into these punches, beating the ever loving hay out of this thing until its face was nothing but a swollen, bruised and pulpy mess. The real Applejack watched as Rockwell, with a feral animalistic rage, wailed on her captor… and just kept beating it until he thought it was dead (or should be).

“Buck the Tyrant, buck you and buck all them Newfoals!” he roared before spitting on it. He took several deep breaths to calm himself as he then turned to Applejack.

“Applejack? Is that really you?” he asked.

“Uncle Rockwell… Ah remember you… how did you… get in here?” she whispered. Her voice amounted to a croak, like her throat was utterly parched.

“It don’t matter right now, you look as bad as Twilight Sparkle does; though her thing looked kinda dead instead of walking around.” Rockwell said quickly, scanning the tree and trying to find a way to free her. “There has to be a way to free you and get that thing outta here.”

“Uncle Rockwell, listen to me!” Applejack coughed out. “We don’t have much time! That bag Celestia used… it’s gotten to all of us… we’re all stuck, trapped, no way out! And even if ya tried, you’ll get stuck here too!”

“No!” Rockwell cried out, ignoring the hopelessness that Applejack was giving off; there just had to be some way to-

However, the creature that was impersonating Applejack arose, smirking. Any blows Rockwell had landed on it had completely healed over, and she looked rather amused.

“You poor thing,” the homunculus said in a very fake sweet tone. “You actually think you can kill me?” She started laughing.

Rockwell snarled, pointing with one hoof to the caricature. “You ain’t gonna win. Ah’m gonna free Applejack, then Ah’m gonna-”

“NO!” the fake one hissed. “SHE IS MINE! IT’S ALL MIIIIINE!” She then lunged at Rockwell, pouncing on him like a hungry timberwolf.

There was no time to fight. No time to resist.

“You’re not takin’ him, ya monster!!” Applejack screamed, and Rockwell felt the buck of Applejack’s hooves in his snout, and he felt himself falling, falling backwards through endless black, the floorboards above his head, a series of rooms floating in a black void…

Before it all went dark, he could hear Applejack sobbing, “Oh Granny, Big Mac, Applebloom… Ah’m so sorry!!”

Rockwell soon recovered to find himself in yet another new area. It appeared to be a clothing store… however it looked abandoned with the windows boarded up, the sign reading “Out of Business”, and there were all sorts of torn, dusty clothes loosely hanging off the display mannequins. As if to add insult to injury, the clothes were decades out of date, horribly color-clashing things that made a pony wonder why they were ever considered a good idea. Just looking at them made him go cross-eyed.

But he could barely register this. He had failed to free Applejack from that thing that wasn’t her… at all. And the last thing Applejack said before he blacked out.

‘Oh Granny, Big Mac, Applebloom… Ah’m so sorry!!’ Oh, Granny Smith… he remembered how she had been such a strong and resilient mare, taking in her grandfoals when her son and daughter-in-law tragically passed. Rockwell wouldn’t be shocked if she too felt the dark corruption that had been poisoning Equestria herself. He regretted not being able to attend her funeral regardless of the distance, and from what he could hear, Applejack wasn’t even there to be there for her ailing grandmother during her last days. Seeing that cruel, evil caricature that was in her head, controlling Applejack’s body, he could understand why.

Poor Macintosh and little Applebloom too. Rockwell wished he could say something but he honestly had no clue; truth be told he’d only met Applejack a couple times, first when she was a just a foal and the second was during her parents’ funeral, and it broke his heart to see the state she was in, and failing to save her when she was so close to getting free.

It’s just… horseapples, he wished he could have freed her; she was family, even if it was a distant relation through marriage. Maybe he could have more of a chance with the others, or, if something was willing to give him a chance, Celestia herself so that everything could stop and go back to the nice, peaceful and loving Equestria that Jonica grew up in and lived up to its ideals, and without those bucking nzambi walking around either.

Rockwell gave a tired sigh as he got up on his hooves.

Stupid mannequins. He’d never liked them. Were they… Oh, Luna. They were. They were all staring at him! The painted-on eyes moved, following him wherever he went! And… was that one with the pink ballgown where he remembered it last?

They didn’t seem to be doing anything. They couldn’t. Could they?

Still. Only an idiot would stay in this room.

Rockwell got moving, if he wasn’t able to help the Element of Honesty (something that Equestria was lacking recently) then maybe he could help an Element that represented something he didn’t get much of from the pinheads as a colt… even if she herself was a pinhead.

‘If Ah could wager Ah’m probably gonna see another one of those things, this one pretending to be the Element of Generosity,’ Rockwell thought, starting to quietly trot through the store and passing more mannequins that had eyes. ‘Better get ready then, maybe Ah should punch its head in, instead of pounding it this time.’

He soon passed by a dead cat, and doesn’t give it a second thought… only that it was an odd point; maybe Miss Rarity had a pet cat at some point.

Rockwell soon came upon a door, and heard a rustling sound. He tapped into his magic, cracked open the door to see…

It looked somewhat like a dressing room, somehow; Fine dresses, burnt and dirtied, lay everywhere. Jonica would have loved the things, and while Rockwell was no devotee of high fashion, he could almost weep at what he was seeing there.

And in the middle of it all was Rarity. Standing before a massive sewing machine the size of a steam locomotive, (it actually bore some resemblance to one, being so huge, oil-stained, burnt, and dirty, more of an insult to Rarity’s ever-so-valued dignity) sewing a dress. One would expect the dress to be something beautiful, but no! It was made of a strangely pale leather, and it was the most insultingly gaudy thing Rockwell had ever seen. Rhinestones! Flowers! Swirly patterns! There were simply so many flourishes that his eyes felt like they burnt, it was so tacky … and…

Oh, by Luna, Rarity was not working on the dress. She was being sewn into it, dragging herself out even as the needles left blood and runnels in her forelegs, colored thread dangling from her legs. Struggling to get out but unable to leave. All she could do was scream.

“I have been far too lenient, you know,” another Rarity sneers from atop the machine.

Rockwell paused for a second at the strange… thoughts he had at seeing articles of clothing ever since he’s been in here. Maybe their personalities are rubbing off on him a bit, still could be worse given that it’s the REAL ones instead of those… things.

An important question to ask however is this, what to do now? When he tried to throw down last time, he failed to free Applejack, this time the pin- Element of Generosity is being drawn into a sewing machine with another one of those things watching her like a Timberwolf.

Rockwell looked back to that dead cat… and started to get an idea.

Meanwhile…

Rarity cried as her forelegs were getting painfully sewn into the fabric. Oh to be so close to getting away with Spike and then getting caught despite his best efforts… she was lucky the first time getting away for if Spike wasn’t there she’d probably be trapped earlier instead of later.

The worst part to this whole thing was that she didn’t know what happened to Sweetie Belle, she didn’t remember where she went or what had happened to her before she got captured.

If only-

*Mrrrow*

What was-

*Mrrrooooowww*

Was that Opal? Rarity (and the Homunculus) heard the doors open as the white cat began to walk into the room, she seemed to be ignorant of Rarity’s current issue and apparently wanted food.

“Opal?” the Homunculus asked. “Opal, darling! I didn’t expect you to need food! Not least because you don’t technically exist here…”

Nonetheless, questionable existence aside, Opal was very insistent, her rolling meows incessant enough to almost drown out the sewing machine.

“Alright, alright,” the doppelganger sighed, trotting down from the machine, having no care for the beautiful Rarity-made dress that she was wearing. Already, it was burnt and dirty; as if somepony had taken a painting by some great Equestrian master and contrived to “improve” it by adding random splotches of paint.

Opal lead the Not-Rarity to the door, and once the Homunculus's head was through, Rockwell immediately hit her with his left hoof before his magic enhanced right hoof whacked the thing onto its back and to the ground. He then quickly galloped in and jumped onto the Homunculus punching it repeatedly in the head while using his magicks to enhance his strikes to the point of being able to shatter boulders with just one hoof tap.

Soon enough he ran out of steam and gave a final punch before getting up, and bucking the Homunculus out of the room and using his magicks to lock the door.

Rockwell took a deep breath; a bit winded from the assault, and ran over to Rarity, trying his hardest not to vomit over seeing the ‘dress’ aka, the mockery was working on.

“Listen, Miss Rarity Ah’m going to get you out of this… thing!” he said to her, trying to find a weak point to free her.

“I don’t know who you are, but thank you!” Rarity gasps, still struggling to remove herself from the ghastly creation. “The thread it uses is terrible, by the way.”

“Hey, Ah’m not a fashion lovin’ elite,” Rockwell comments, observing the giant machine. “How about you tell me what the buck happened? Ah saw Sparkle and Applejack in similar cases like you and – ”

Rarity cut him off, “If you want to know, get me out before she comes back! You can get your explanation when we’re safe! I’ll gladly tell you everything when I’m not being…” she strained one hoof. “THIS!”

“Oh, right!” Rockwell focused and started to break the sewing machine with his magic. And yet, despite the damage he was causing to it, the thing was still functioning. “Horesapples!” he swore. “That didn’t work! Maybe…” he looked to see Rarity’s hooves getting sewn in. “Can Ah?”

“Don’t worry about it. My hooves aren’t real here anyway,” she said.

“A-alright,” Rockwell took a deep breath and focused his magic to break Rarity’s hooves off. Soon enough there was an orange light and a sickening crunch as her right forehoof was snapped off by Rockwell’s magic.

Even though this was mental, there was still a pain to be had and it hurt worse than hell for Rarity after experiencing that.

“Stay with me!” Rockwell ordered her before getting to work on the left forehoof, “can you say something though? Something about your family before everything went south of Tartarus or maybe about yourself?”

“My little sister!” Rarity hissed through the agony. Rockwell was amazed she could talk – the pain, which may or may not have existed, and the shock of seeing that must have been terrifying enough that many high class unicorn would of been on the floor in a fetal position, all the while crying their eyes out.

Although clearly, Rarity wasn’t just any mare.

“Wanted her to know… I’m not a monster,” Rarity said. “I didn’t want to destroy art and culture, leave ponies and humans as slaves… I wanted…” she drew in a sharp breath, “to make something beautiful!” She exclaims

“Ah hear that.” Rockwell comments, his thoughts going towards Stone Edge in the sense that they both have a younger sibling before finally, finishing his work and causing yet another crunch to be heard as Rarity’s left forehoof is snapped off.

She then falls back, blood coming from the stumps where her forehooves used to be; it seems Rockwell has freed her. The Earth Pony stallion quickly catches her, and sets her down, working even quicker to patch things up.

“This here is a trick my brother taught me, if you got an amputee; you make sure its rounded out.” He says, to not only distract her from the pain, but to focus on cauterizing her wounds.

“Don’t worry. It’s my mind, not that damnable caricature!” Rarity shouts. “I think… I think I’ll be able to keep them safe. Just keep me from bleeding out!” She requests

“And what was that about your hooves not being real?” He comments, lifting Rarity onto his back.

“I’m very imaginative,” She responds, a hint of humor present in her voice.

“Ah can tell, this is vivid.” Rockwell started to move towards the door, Rarity was almost freed; things may be starting to turn around! “What happened to your sister?” He asks, making sure she is securely on his back.

“Right after the launch of the Great Equestrian, Celestia called me on a… special errand of some kind,” Rarity answered. “Turned out, she didn’t like that I liked the humans’ arts and fashion designs… so she made a Rarity that wouldn’t challenge or disagree with her.”

‘That explains a lot…’ Rockwell thought; he had heard from Igneous Rock that Pinkamena did send a note to Maud… but it was weird looking, gave the impression there was something written in between the lines like some kinda contract; he never did get to talk to Maud about it before she up and left.

“Well; what happened? Did you escape?” He asks, slowly using his magicks to unlock and open the door.

“I tried to,” Rarity sighs. “Spike managed to keep me from being turned into one of Celestia’s puppets, and we got out of Canterlot.”

“Then what happened after that?”

“I had guards running after me,” She explains. “Every guardspony in Equestria was ready to slaughter Spike and find me. But… I found Sweetie Belle at Carousel Boutique, and I… I told her I would always love her; I wiped our memories of anything other than that so we couldn’t find each other, then I fled. I have no idea what’s become of her, but she can’t be happy with what my impostor has done.”

“Ah hear that,” Rockwell commented, starting to trot through the door and through the run down store. ‘She did what she could to protect her, but in the end things went bad. Ah guess that’s somethin’ that we’ve got in common; protecting the ones we love regardless of what things happen to us.’ He thought.

“I couldn’t completely protect them.” Rarity chokes out, “Sweetie Belle… Spike… I’m so pathetic.”

They soon reached the front doors of the Carousel Boutique and oddly enough the outside was boarded up… probably to keep Rarity in. Focusing his magicks into his left hoof again, Rockwell worked on busting the two doors down; not an easy task, all things considered.

Eventually the doors gave way and were busted off their hinges, Rockwell and Rarity began to move through to see a white void that stretched onward for miles on end… however, a chill then ran down Rockwell’s spine; this was too easy. Still, it was either ‘leave with Rarity’ or ‘stay and be doomed’ so he kept moving eventually breaking out into a full gallop as if a dragon was on his tail.

“Okay mare,” Rockwell began, trying to figure out why this felt to easy; reason for that being the fact that the last time he commented on it, he almost immediately got captured. “Got any ideas on what to do next? Cause if I bring you with me outta your body, wouldn’t that leave that copy of yours in control of it all the time?” He asks, before adding “Even if its still breathing.”

“Just… just keep running,” Rarity breaths, gritting her teeth as she stares at the stumps that used to be her forelegs. “Keep running until-” she suddenly pales. “Oh no.”

Rockwell’s expression turned grim once he spotted the cause, it was the Homunculus Rarity… and she didn’t look too happy with either of them while most of her bruises have healed.

“Ah buck,” Rockwell swore, putting Rarity down gently behind him and getting ready for a fight; he wasn’t gonna let what happened back in Applejack’s mind happened to him again… this time he was gonna succeed, for everypony’s sake; Pinhead or not.

“Well, you’re really overstayed your welcome, you ruffian,” Not-Rarity declared, her face starting to recover from the last bruise Rockwell gave her earlier. “You really aren’t helping yourself, Rockwell.”

“Who says this is for me? Ah heard her cries, her pain and saved her from your torture machine!” Rockwell shot back, “Besides, Ah think the fact that Ah’m willing to put my life on the line to give one of the Elements a chance is rather… what’d you call it, uh, generous of me?”

“…Truly you don’t understand the word ‘generosity’,” The homunculus states bluntly. “She’s clearly not generous enough-”

“The bucking element of Generosity?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME, YOU PINHEAD?!” Rockwell yelled, interrupting her.

“As I was saying,” Not-Rarity continued, “She doesn’t have it in her heart to help those apes, which is why I’m here. All those petty little questions about whether or not they want it… Who cares if they do or they don’t? They’re happier anyway.”

“Happier? You… do you have any bucking clue at how lifeless they are?!” Rockwell shouted, his rage starting to reach its peak. “Ah may have never got much generosity from pinheads in my youth, or most of my life for that matter! But, this mare,” he pointed to Rarity, “she was willing to sacrifice not only herself but everything she owned for her sister’s safety! THAT is what it must mean to be the bucking Element of Generosity! Those bucking nzambi aren’t happy! Besides, help is something you ASK others; to be generous is to make sacrifices for others, that way they can have a chance. What Celestia - no, THE TYRANT, is doing ain’t harmony! She’s forcing herself on others; she’s not giving them the chance or asking them if they wanted it or not!

“Besides, Ah’m done talkin to you Pinhead,” Rockwell says, his focus on the Not-Rarity. “Go die in a ditch like the whorse you are.”

“And what are you going to do, huh?” she asked with a nasty smirk.

“The smart thing!” Rockwell quickly stomps his forehooves into the ground which creates a tremor that knocks Not-Rarity off balance and to her back. After that, Rockwell quickly gets the real one back onto his back and bursts into a full gallop.

“Where’re we going?” Rarity asked.

“Somewhere she ain’t!”

“But… this is a…”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her!” Rockwell yelled, galloping across the seemingly endless white void, “Ah ain’t gonna fail like Ah did with Applejack.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘with Applejack’?” Rarity asked, puzzled.

“Ah popped into her’s and Sparkle’s heads earlier; didn’t have enough time to save Sparkle due to shock and Applejack… well, she bucked me out before Ah could free her either.” He explained.

As for Rarity though, she slowly came to a realization; this was pointless, Rockwell may have freed her and stopped the Homunculus for now… but there wasn’t a way out for them to run to, they were in her mind and he couldn’t run away from that thing forever. There was only one way to help him.

“R-Rockwell,” Rarity began, “promise me that if I see you again, you will be able to do me one favor.”

“Uh, sure… what is it?” he asked, confused.

“Answer me this question, ‘is my sister safe?’ Can you do that?” Rarity asked, tears starting to well in her eyes.

“Yeah, but why would you-” Rockwell then got cut off when Rarity hit him with a spell that sent him into unconsciousness; he was right about generosity earlier, you must be able to both make sacrifices for others and be able to give them a chance, like she’d done for Sweetie Belle and now for him.

As Rockwell’s body falters and hits the ground, the real Rarity falling off his back. His mind drifted off with him feeling himself falling into the abyss; he was helpless to watch as the Homunculus immediately appears from out of nowhere and sneered, the real Rarity’s eyes narrowed at the Homunculus.

“I got free of you imposter!” She declares with a dramatic flourish, “That just proves your hold is weak! I will resist you even harder now and will be soon free of you!”

However, as for the Earth Pony…

‘Oh no, where am Ah gonna end up next?’ Rockwell thought in his panic as the darkness consumed him once more.

He recovered slowly this time, feeling like that morning after he saw a newfoal for the time; had a Tartarus-level hangover that a gallon of stern, strong apple cider could do but not erase his memories.

Rockwell looked down to be greeted by the sight of a barren, dirt-filled terrain with a small rock in front of him; quite a peculiar thing really.

Getting back on his hooves, Rockwell notices a thick mist of sorts; he could see at least. Looking up, he notices some partially destroyed paper lanterns hanging from streamers whose coloring had faded long ago.

‘Oh great,’ Rockwell paled knowing where he was now, ‘Ah must be in Pinkamena’s head, it has to be; only she would have both rocks and, well… colors on the skull.’

He tried to get a better look… but to his surprise there was a shattered dome of sorts. It was broken and originally had covered what looks like a property that had both a diner and a farm on it… what didn’t help was the fact that there was a busted stool of sorts that was trampled on right in front of the dome.

Getting even more cautious, Rockwell began his trot into the strange mindscape of Pinkamena Diane Pie… unsure of the horrors that might await him.

As Rockwell started to slowly trot towards a door on one of the Rock farm buildings, his mind drifted towards specifics about Pinkamena; she wasn’t too happy originally, a sad little filly who had a coat that didn’t match her family all too much… until she saw that, what was it? ‘Rainbow Boom in the sky’? She was different after that, making sure that everypony was smiling and having a good time.

Though she hardly came by the Rock Family Reunions, her personality always did seem to be a sharp contrast to Maud’s… but then again, propaganda had her being just as enthusiastic about that ‘potion’ nonsense. Was he afraid of the homunculus in Pinkamena’s mind? No, he was more scared of what torture that thing was putting her through.

Rockwell soon reached the front door.

“…Ah have to go through that, don’t Ah?” he sighed. “Ah don’t, Ah’m stuck… Ah do, Ah’m bucked. Choices, huh?” Rockwell remarked dryly before he summoned his magicks to slowly open the door… and then suddenly a body limply fell before him.

It appeared to be an Earth Pony stallion, who had a bucket full of turnips for a cutie mark. One of his legs looked badly broken, his coat appeared to have been ripped out in several spots and his whole body was covered in black, blue and greenish bruises. One of his eyes was tightly shut, and the other just looked up at Rockwell. Just what hap-

“Rocky…” the stallion hoarsely croaked out. It took Rockwell a few moments to register that he was talking to him, apparently mistaking him for another stallion it seemed. Or maybe they had met before and he didn’t remember this pony.

“Uh yeah, it’s me. What happened?” Rockwell asked him, deciding to go along with the confused identity.

“I… I’m sorry…” the earth pony apologized, “I tried to help her… tried to stop that monster… I tried so hard… I’m sorry,” was all he could say before the air came out of his lungs, his body going limp and… disappearing.

“What the buck?” Rockwell muttered, although given all he’d seen so far… he should be used to this kind of thing right now; best to move on.

Rockwell entered the building and to his surprise, within was a cafe of sorts… though it was run down like that store in Rarity’s head; windows boarded up, thick layers of dust, cobwebs and spiderwebs and a… oh Luna…

There was a filly on the ground, beaten as badly as that earth pony from earlier; all caution was thrown to the wind as Rockwell moved towards the filly and picked her up. To his surprise, the filly’s coat was pink, her mane was straight though and her flank was blank… she looked like Pinkamena before she had that change in outlooks.

“Pinkamena?” Rockwell asked, supporting her body in his hooves, gently prodding her awake. “It’s me, your uncle Rockwell; you remember me right?”

She weakly opened her eyes and looked at him, giving him a small smile out of relief. “Rockwell…? Uncle Rockwell… I remember you, you… you came to the rock farm sometimes and gave us rock candy,” she weakly muttered.

“That’s right…” he said, a smile coming to his face as he pulled the filly onto his back. “Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me why… everything is so strange here?” Rockwell asked the filly.

“After Pinkie Pie saw the sonic rainboom, she wanted to feel different, she needed to focus herself and made parts of herself into their own ponies,” the filly answered, “I’m her memories of when she was young at the Rock Farm. I’m called Pinky. Or Little Pinkamena. Nopony really agrees on this sort of thing.”

“… How do Ah know you’re not some kind of horrible trap?” he asked her warily as the question flashed through his mind.

“You don’t,” Pinky (or Little Pinkamena) said. “But I’m definitely not that thing. It’s a monster, a caricature of all that Pinkie Pie ever was or will be.” She shivered. “And it’s hungry. It’s maybe the most monstrous of the Tyrant’s creations. All Pinkie’s joy, channeled towards ponification and murder… It’ll be a miracle if Pinkie and the others don’t experience the Mark Fracture soon.”

“What do you mean?” Rockwell asked her. He had heard of Mark Fracture. It was the most dangerous (and deadly) cutie mark related malady - a psychotic break caused when one was unable to fulfill their talent. “She… she could cause them to undergo mark fracture, and she’s doing this anyway?!”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t care,” Pinky shrugged. “She could even find a new world, get more Elements, rinse and repeat until the homunculi have worn them out or they’ve killed themselves.”

“Ah need to stop this, this is getting bucking repetitive and no matter what Ah do, Ah keep getting set back to square one!” Rockwell complained, starting to head towards another door while Pinky rode on his back.

“What’d’ya mean, Uncle Rockwell?” she asked.

“Ah’ve been through three of the other Elements’ heads already before getting here, Ah’ve seen Sparkle, Applejack and Rarity getting dragged through tartarus by creatures that ain’t them,” Rockwell explained. “When I see Pinka-” he stopped, considering the fact that he was with an embodiment of Pinkamena’s fillyhood at the Rock Farm, “Pinkie Pie, Ah’m gonna get her out of this mess and take down the tyrant… somehow.”

He reached a door, opening it slowly. On the other side was the Pie Rock Farm. “Pinky, how come these doors lead to just about anywhere?” Rockwell asked her.

“They’re like this now, ever since that Homunculus took over, everything is messed up… these doors could lead anywhere in Pinkie Pie’s mind, and they change constantly. You could go from Rainbow Dash’s birthday, to scenes of the war crimes the Homunculus is doing, then open that same door you came in and see her singing in the shower instead,” Pinky answered.

Rockwell began to think on this for a moment. “Alright, Ah got an idea,” he said, closing the door. “This door leads to where Pinkie Pie is being held!” he declared before slowly reopening the door to find that it still led to someplace on the rock farm but this time, the scenery was different… and they come across another body, this one a pegasus mare with a cutie of a sack of flour; she was in horrible shape, her wings mutilated and her body riddled with stab wounds, blood soaking her white fur. Her face was twisted into an expression of deep pain.

“Oh no, Madame La Flour!” Pinky choked out, starting to cry after identifying the body.

“Who’s she supposed to be?” Rockwell asked.

“P-Pinkie Pie made up imaginary friends to give us company… she, Turnip and the others were gonna try to free Pinkie Pie from the Homunculus but…” she started to break down, sobbing, “I never thought it’d be this bad! At this point, she’ll be lucky just to die!”

Rockwell put a hoof to Pinky to comfort her, gently telling her, “There, there, Pinky, it’s okay; just let it all out little filly.”

It didn’t help much, the filly kept sobbing, “We’ve seen so much! We… ponies driven to madness, Pinkie Pie having to laugh at it! The ponification trials, Celestia at her worst… I don’t know if you’re the right one to ask, but I need you to promise me, you’ll make her suffer! Promise me somebody, human or pony or something, will make her pay for what she did!”

“Ah don’t know if Ah can… but Ah’ll do my best,” Rockwell said to her.

She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her face but her expression hopeful. “You mean it?” she asked with a sniffle.

“Cross my heart, Pinky,” Rockwell said to her with utter determination.

“Good. Whatever Celestia’s become… isn’t anything like the Princess you might know. She’s not reasonable, she’s not… she’s just a force of destruction now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing then Ah don’t know much about her to begin with…” Rockwell said a bit grimly, as they came across a door that was broken down, its paint chipped and frame loosely hanging to its side. He took a deep breath to steel himself and walk through…

And, he’d immediately wish he didn’t.

They moved like automatons, wind-up toys with the fakest of wide eyed smiles painted on. Stallions, mares and foals just trotting about while the party was going on. But it could hardly be called a party. The decorations were torn and old with the colors faded, the food looked stale and dirty… and were those maggots in the cake?

But, those weren’t the worst of what could be seen here.

At the center, he saw what he could only assume was Pinkie Pie’s homunculus, carrying out the festivities. It was similarly distorted, like someone tried to draw Pinkie and got all of her proportions wrong.

Pinky whimpered, “That’s her. The thing that Tirek’s bag created.”

“Shush now,” Rockwell said to the filly, “Gonna be okay. We just need to get past her and find the REAL one. After that, Ah’ll make it all stop; Ah promised you Ah will.”

Rockwell’s hooves glowed as he tried to concentrate his magicks into rendering him and Pinky invisible, something that he never had much success with due to a lack of training in more complex spellwork or having a unicorn show him the ropes. Nothing short of a miracle would happen if they manage to get past it.

As soon as Rockwell could no longer see his and Pinky’s hooves, he slowly tiptoes around the… ‘party’ and into the kitchen to get past the fake Pinkie Pie; though he soon saw on the counter was a pie that had a strange crusty look to it; somehow it reminded Rockwell of that weird leather dress from Rarity’s mind. He shook his head; best to keep moving forward and try not to alert that thing to their presence.

They were almost to the door leading outside when-

*Clank*

A frying pan fell and hit the floor, Rockwell’s eyes widening as he silently cursed his luck; quickly moving, he turned a corner, because almost immediately the Homunculus Pinkie Pie entered the kitchen. This time Rockwell got a closer look at the monstrosity; her coat’s colors were grossly desaturated, leaving only ghostly traces of them on her. The sparkling eyes the real Pinkie Pie would usually have were utterly contradicted by the vicious mouth full of nearly animalistic razor sharp fang-like teeth. She even had Pinkie’s poofy mane too, yet it seemed stale in a sense.

He and Pinky watched as the creature looked around, probably searching for them.

“I know somepony is in here!” it shouted, the voice it used barely sounded like Pinkie Pie’s… more like some kinda mix of a screech and a growl. She trotted over to the pan, scanning the room as she put it back up on the hook, her head then whipping to the corner. “I know it’s you Pinky! Makes me wonder why you keep trying to stop my party; you should know you shouldn’t try to stop my fun, you silly filly.”

The homunculus then gave a harsh, cold laugh as her gaze met the corner Rockwell and Pinky were at… could she actually see them?!

Much to Rockwell’s relief, no. The monstrous doppelganger just slowly backed away, eyes darting like Pinkie Pie’s did, but with clear malicious intent. She left the kitchen, heading back into her party; that was strange… but, it was best to move on and get the hay outta here.

They soon reached the outside of the building. Rockwell quickly undid the invisibility enchantment. The two let out a collective shiver, one that was held in due to that all too close call.

“Uncle Rockwell, look, over at that tree!” Pinky said to him.

He looked over, seeing two figures beside it. “It’s got to be Pinkamena over there! Come on, let’s get her out.”

Once he got there though… his blood really started to boil while his expression struggled to balance between horror and rage.

The first one was definitely Pinkie Pie, her mane still bouncy and curly. Out of all the other Elements he had seen over this ‘trip’, she had to be in the worst shape of them all (and that was saying something, all things considered). She was suspended in the air by a rope hanging around her barrel like a noose off the tree branch. Her coat was covered in bruises and blood, no doubt from the homunculus having pinata sessions prior. Her cheeks looked stained with dried tears.

The second figure appeared to also be Pinkie Pie, but her mane was pin straight and her coat was slightly duller. She was just as beaten up, but looked more… level headed and composed; kinda like how Pinkie Pie was originally.

Acting without prompt, Rockwell immediately used his magicks to break off the two branches and slowly lowered both mares to the ground.

Rockwell made quick work to undo the rope tied around Pinkie Pie’s barrel so that she could finally speak. However, her eyes were tightly closed shut and she whimpered; she was consumed by fear.

Seeing her like that, a shuddering terrified wreck just… just made Rockwell break a little inside because it immediately reminded him of himself as a young colt; never seeing an end to it, finding all your hopes destroyed while your prayers are just ignored.

This had to stop.

“Unbelievable,” he whispered. Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity and now Pinkamena. All victims of this corruption.

Pinky just quietly climbed off Rockwell’s back, choking out to him, “She loves to use them in her ‘party games’. That thing would drag Pinkie Pie and Pinkamena out here with the newfoals and play… pinata with them.”

“Figured as much; if she’s basically a bad version of Pinkie Pie, that makes sense for her to do,” he growled before turning to the filly. “Pinky, go help that… uh… other Pinkamena while Ah help Pinkie Pie.”

She nodded, immediately getting to work helping the other mare, leaving Rockwell alone with Pinkie Pie; the stallion came up to her side.

“Pinkie Pie,” Rockwell whispered softly, using the gentlest tone he could summon, yet she just recoiled away.

“N-no more… please…” Pinkie Pie cried brokenly in response, “I can’t...”

“Pinkie Pie,” Rockwell repeated, “it’s me, Uncle Rockwell; the mountain stallion, remember? You once said Ah had pebbles in my coat. Please, open your eyes.”

Slowly and steadily her eyes did start to open, their once bright and innocent blue no longer held that sparkle it once had; they were simply bloodshot, tired and full of guilt. “Un-Uncle Rockwell?” she croaked, trying to focus on the stallion before her.

As soon as he nodded and answered, “Yes sweetie, it’s me,” she started to tear up and embraced Rockwell immediately, crying into his shoulder; for once in a long, long time she was… happy to see somepony she knew.

“That’s it,” Rockwell says, running a hoof through her mane. “Just let it all out.”

Eventually, Pinkie Pie broke from the embrace and took several deep breaths to get some composure as Rockwell sat on his haunches before her.

“I… I’m so sorry,” she coughed out, looking down to the ground. “Everything I’ve done, a-all t-those innocent humans. It… it’s not a smile.”

Fresh tears sprang from her eyes, dripping down her face and landing in the ground. Rockwell put his hooves to hers, trying to comfort her.

“Pinkie, it’s-”

“IT’S NOT A SMILE!” Pinkie Pie shrieked at the top of her lungs, a breakdown apparent. “They are not… it’s not… I’M NOT MAKING THEM SMILE!”

She only sobbed harder, and Rockwell could only watch. This was worse than what Pinky had said earlier; even he had reached a point of hopeless before, twice even, but this?

She was completely and utterly destroyed.

“Shhh, it’s gonna be alright, Pinkie Pie,” Rockwell assured her, embracing the sobbing mare once again, trying his best to comfort her. “It’s all over now, Ah’m gonna make it stop.”

“You…” she stopped to wipe a tear away, “... you really mean it?”

“Cross my heart. Hope to Fly. Stick a cupcake-” Rockwell paused, closing his eyelid, “in my eye.”

In that moment, Pinkie Pie smiled; for the first time in a long time she truly felt happy again.

“T-thank you,” she whispered, “Thank you so much.”

Rockwell gave a warm genuine smile to her in return, saying, “Anything for you Little Pink, anything.”

Getting up, Rockwell turned to see Pinky getting hugged by Pinkamina, the mare probably grateful to see the filly still alive.

“Alright, now you three stay close; Ah’m gonna go back in and crack some skulls.” Rockwell instructed, “This ain’t going to happen anymore.”

The darker Pinkamena’s eyes narrowed, and she grunted, “That’s really not a good idea; she-”

“Ain’t gonna get away with this no more!” Rockwell interrupted, cutting her off, “I promised this is gonna stop… and I meant it.” With that, he turned to head back in and crash that monster’s party…

…Only to run barrel-to-barrel into the Homunculus itself.

“Well hiya, Uncle Rockwell!” she greeted cheerfully, her lips forming a twisted grin that showed off her razor sharp teeth.

Rockwell reflexively gasped, jumping back somewhat, while Pinkie Pie, Pinky and Pinkamena all paled in terror at the sight of monsterosity.

“Awww, look at this!” she cooed, her tone giving the Queen a run for her money in terms of its sickening sweetness. “You four are having a party! And you know what you should have at a party? A pin-”

Rockwell cut her off by socking her right in the jaw with his left hoof, her jaw snapping from the blow, shattered teeth falling out. She didn't even seem to notice the hit, the sound of her jaw snapping in place and new razor sharp teeth taking place of the old ones. Rockwell could only step back in utter horror as she gave him a wide smile.

“-ata,” she finished, before her eyes moved to focus on Rockwell. “Awww, that’s not every nice Uncle Rockwell; you won’t get any cake, acting like that.”

“Shut your bucking trap, you… freak!” Rockwell snarled, struggling to regain his composure. He then bucked her with his right hoof but she simply ducked underneath it and pirouetted away from him.

“That isn’t nice either!” she chided as she spun, keeping the derange smile on her face. “You’re acting just like that imaginary friend Pinkie made… Rocky, I think his name was. He was a real meanie pants about all this and kept trying to ruin everything.”

Rockwell tried again to hit the Homunculus, but she would just dodge, block or avoid each blow he sent out. Worst of all, the thing just kept talking.

“But I don’t have to worry about him anymore! Isn’t that nice?” she grinned, all the while, the three Pinkie Pies looked on with horror and rage.

“You… you didn’t,” Pinky choked out breathlessly.

“Oh please, you don’t need him anymore!” Not-Pinkamena said dismissively, waving a hoof. “Besides… I was hungry.” She gave a twisted grin, “And come to think of it, I’m getting hungry right now.” Rockwell didn’t like that look in her eyes towards him.

Suddenly, in an instant, the Homunculus punched him right in the barrel so hard, it sent him flying into the tree, the wind getting knocked right out of him.

“Ugh, son of a haridelle...” he groaned, his head and back hurting bad; it was getting hard to see. When he opened his eyes, he saw Not-Pinkamena descend on him.

“Dinner time!” the homunculus declared... but then both Pinkie Pie and the darker coated Pinkamena grabbed onto her, restraining her as Pinky ran up to Rockwell to help him up.

“Get up!” the filly cried, trying to move the stallion with her forelegs. “Come on! Get up, Uncle Rockwell!”

He really wanted to, but just couldn’t. His head was spinning and and his vision blurred. His whole body felt like it was being crushed; he couldn’t even speak.

‘Ah’m so sorry, Pinkamena… Ah really tried,’ he thought as his eyes started to close. ‘Ah can’t… Ah can’t do this no more.’

With that, he felt himself being pulled away, the last thing he saw being Pinky desperately screaming for him not to go as the Homunculus started to turn the tables on Pinkie Pie and on the darker Pinkamina…

“Motherbucker.” Rockwell growled, everything starting to come back into focus again; his head was killing him, probably due to that punch that thing gave him.

His eyes slowly started to open and he could see an alleyway of some kind that was covered in shadows. But he could barely pay it mind as his anger took over.

He had failed yet again to save somepony that could help end this madness; first Twilight, then Applejack, Rarity, and now Pinkamena…

Just… just why? Why the hay couldn’t he SAVE anypony!? Stone Edge was stuck in a coma, Jonica and Ruby were Luna knows where on that other world, and the Elements… every step forward was just another two steps back trying to help them.

‘Ah just don’t get it,’ he thought to himself bitterly, sitting upright and looking at his forelegs, ‘Ah’ve got some fancy pinhead magic on me, Ah’m stronger and faster than anypony else… so why can’t Ah do a bucking thing when Ah actually try to do somethin?!’

A brief feeling of rage took over as he began to smash into the ground before him, venting out the frustrations that had been building up for a long while now.

After a few minutes of venting, Rockwell settled down, seeing that he’d split the earth and made a big old crack in the land before him. It would do no good just sitting around throwing a tantrum and feel sorry for himself. He had to keep going on, probably look around in here and figure out whose mind he was in this time.

If this was the Tyrant’s brain he had been thrown in, maybe he should just destroy this place.

After all, anything can be possible if you put your mind to it.

Shaking his head to get rid of that spinning feeling, Rockwell trotted out of the alleyway and saw a familiar, but not very welcome sight. Canterlot Castle.

“So Ah am in the Queen’s head now...” Rockwell said to himself out loud.

‘Well, this may be my final chance; Ah better make it count,’ he thought before starting to make his way to the castle. This however proved to be difficult because the other ponies that were also walking were going in practically the exact paths, only breaking off when their destination made it necessary to move. Rockwell kept accidentally bumping into ponies for either trotting too slow or going too fast.

When it happened for the twelfth time however, he lost it.

“Hey! Watch it!” Rockwell yelled… only to, almost immediately, have a scream die in his throat at the pair of black sockets that whipped over to see him.

“Oh sorry!” the newfoal apologized, a… whatever it was, that wasn’t a smile on his face. “I shouldn’t have dilly-dallied in your way.”

Rockwell cut him off, grabbing the Newfoal’s throat and strangling the slave corpse using his hooves; if Celestia had newfoals on the brain then this just got even worse.

‘Oh buck, this place must be crawling with those Nzambis!’ Rockwell mentally ranted as the Newfoal went limp in his hooves.

And yet, everypony just kept moving in an orderly fashion without even paying any heed to the act of murder Rockwell committed in broad view. Were the newfoals really this unimportant?

Taking his chances, Rockwell just left the body there on the street and continued his trot towards the castle… yet soon he would see that this version of Canterlot’s center had… well…

It had a skeleton there, a huge one that was charred and had some dark purple hide on it still… regardless of the decomposing state it was in.

What was worse was the fact that there were ponies there laughing at it, making jokes and cracks over it.

“That… that ain’t right,” Rockwell whispered at the sight. Sure the dragons were always said to be nasty, greedy little bucks that could fry anypony they didn’t like. But this? This was… way past wrong, having its corpse propped up like a tourist attraction.

Deciding to ignore it, Rockwell just immediately turned away from the horrific site… only to trip over something and crash into another propped up corpse display, this one being some kind of black chintin creature that was hollowed out.

To the stallion’s horror, the entire center had multiple corpses propped up like art exhibits; a slain body of a familiar looking reindeer, a female griffon whose body was so bloody and mutilated she looked unrecognizable, a minotaur that was practically crushed, and so on.

But, when Rockwell turned to see what he tripped over… it was something he had never seen before; it had peachy, hairless skin and looked almost like a mixture of a minotaur and an ape, blood covering its body.

‘Is… is this a human?’ the stallion asked himself, tilting his head at the corpse that had clearly been trampled over beforehoof, Rockwell got up to better inspect i-

Part of it moved!

The human’s chest started to rise.

What… what was going on?

The human’s mouth seemed to be set in a grimace, a plea for… something. For what? Rockwell couldn’t guess. He half-wanted to ask, but… it couldn’t be, the human was dead.

And yet its chest undulated as if it was breathing. The wounds were too horrible, the blood too widespread for it to be anything but dead.

No, it wasn’t breathing. The ribcage was expanding too far for it to be anything like breathing, as it went in and out… It expanded, to the point that it looked to almost look like the mammaries of a female minotaur, then shrunk again. It was grotesque, and Rockwell could see veins pulsing as the chest grew and shrunk.

And then-

Blood exploded out the human’s chest, splashing against the ceiling, and a thing came out. A thing the crimson red, stepping out of the massive bloody hole with some strange limb.

Oh sweet Luna, was that a hoof?!

Indeed it was; Rockwell could only watch as a pony’s foreleg literally came out of the human’s chest and then another, until… a newfoal emerged from it! Like a perversion of a mare giving birth to a foal, the dead human was giving birth to that hollow mockery that only looked like a pony to take its place in the world. Blood exploded everywhere as the newfoal came out, wearing that infuriatingly not-really-an-actual-smile on its face, singing songs of being uplifted and free to love its Queen… This was, without a doubt, the sickest and most wrong thing he’d ever laid eyes upon.

Having seen enough, Rockwell went into a full gallop away from the sight and straight to the castle; this had to stop!

Eventually he reached his destination, the entrance of Canterlot Castle… it was time to end this madness once and for all.

As Rockwell began his entrance, he couldn’t help but notice the lack of Royal Guards present, however, that was far from the only thing on his mind. There was everything he’d been through and seen; things ranging from those fancy pinheads that always picked on him for being an Earth Pony when he was a colt, Stone Edge almost getting lassoed into slavery by that spell, the Elements of Harmony being forced to do all levels of atrocities against their will, and all the acts of hypocritical sins that had occurred throughout both Equus and that other world.

He busted through every door, not seeking any subtlety this time; his anger fueling his actions and giving him strength.

Until finally… he came upon the front doors of the throne room, Rockwell just gave one look at the two doors before bring up his left hoof and charging it with an orange ball of Magicks.

With a grunt, he forced the twin doors off their hinges and flying to the floor of the throne room. Directly ahead was Celestia sitting on her throne; she wasn’t even phased by the sound of the twin doors being forced down.

“TYRANT!” Rockwell roared, “Ah’VE GOT SOME WORDS TO SAY TO YOU!” He began storming into the room, seething with rage. “YOU’VE DONE SOME REAL MANURE HERE!”

“Them slave corpses were bad enough! But what you’ve did to the Elements of Harmony and those… THINGS?! That’s just… just… RRRRRRAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!” he roared, his voice echoing in and out, loud enough to rival the Royal Canterlot Voice. “YOU DESERVE TO BE PUT SIX FEET UNDER YOU… you… ”

And then he trailed off, as he realized that Celestia was… eating a slice of cake? Was she ignoring him!?

“HEY!” Rockwell shouted, “Ah’m talking to you, Tyrant!”

And yet, she just continued to eat her cake, her horn lighting up as she used her magic to levitate the plate and her fork; her expression calm and content as if nothing was wrong at all.

Rockwell let out a low growl to the disrespect she was giving him, trying to ignore the migraine building up in his head.

“PAY ATTENTION DANG NABBIT!” he yelled again, his left hoof glowing with a ball of magicks, directing it right at the plate of cake, making it fly off and hit the wall with a crash. Admittedly, a very stupid and rash decision, but hopefully she should pay attention to him now.

Indeed Celestia’s eyes did open, their bruise like color however were more focused on the destroyed fine glass and slice of vanilla cake that was smeared on the wall.

“What a waste of perfectly good cake,” she commented dryly, before her eyes turned towards Rockwell. “Oh, where did you come you from, my little pony?”

“The front door,” Rockwell deadpanned, “Now, you better listen good and start explain-”

“Hmm, that’s a shame; it’ll take some time to get it fixed,” Celestia said, cutting Rockwell off. Her voice was so devoid of any of that tetchy anger that he’d heard when her agents brought him to her; like she was just expressing annoyance over some rain or something.

“HEY!” Rockwell shouted again, “Ah’m trying to talk to you! You better give me a dang good explanation for all this, or Ah’ll break your head like these fragile little rocks here.” He stomped his forehooves on the floor, causing it to fracture and break to emphasize his point.

“About what exactly?” Celestia inquired, the sun still shining in the sky.

“The slave corpses, of course!”

“The what?”

Rockwell growled, “The nzambis.”

“I still don’t quite follow, the what?” Celestia asked, trying her best not to grin.

“THE NEWFOALS!” Rockwell snarled. “The bucking human-born freaks! Ah’ll admit, when Ah first heard about all that nonsense with the barrier and the potion Ah thought nothin’ of it; humans need a way in, we give ‘em one til that barrier is dealt with But when Ah first met one…”

He stopped, shivering out of reflex from the memory. He ranted on, “It was just plain lifeless! Tried to talk to them about the human world cause Ah was curious about some of them inventions Ah’d heard about them making… but all he just kept doing was jittering on about you!” Rockwell pointed a hoof at Celestia as if accusing her of murder.

“So? I’ve already told you that they are loyal subjects; helpful, hardworking, happy, loyal and honest. It doesn’t quite matter if they are so faithful to me for helping them shed their previous flawed forms,” Celestia stated, the rather high-and-mighty tone of her voice only infuriating Rockwell further.

Yet something else also nagged at him. There… there was something wrong with this, but what? The lack of guards here? The lack of defenses? Why would he be able to get so close to her and yet have such trouble with the four Elements heads he’d been through before?

‘Why’d she give me a free pass?’ Rockwell wondered momentarily, before refocusing on to Celestia and giving a response “There’s that point again; your ‘HELP’... if that’s what you think helping is, Ah’d hate to see what you actively plot. And speakin’ of which; what have you done to the Elements!? More importantly, WHY?! Were they not too happy with your pile of horseapples like me? Or were you afraid that they were gonna go against you like that Sombra pinhead did?”

To Rockwell’s surprise, Celestia gave a smile at the mention of Sombra’s name. Why? ‘What’s she smilin’ about?’

“Well, why should I explain it Rockwell? You saw my creations, four of the perfect servants that I require,” the sun alicorn replied, her phrasing… a bit different than the false sweetness from before. “True it would’ve been better had the Elements of Harmony originally been more cooperative, Twilight, Rarity and Fluttershy in particular, but I digress; with them under my sway I have nothing to fear… especially now that she’s out of the way.”

Her right wing extended out to point towards something, Rockwell turning his head to see that one stained-glass window he didn’t remember seeing in the actual castle. Curiously, it depicted what looked like one of those humans, probably a female due to the soft facial features and long mane (or was it hair?). She was impaled to a wall, large spikes driven into those things called hands, and tears of blood were streaming from her eyes.

‘What’s so special about her?’ Rockwell pondered, a feeling of dread coming over him. There was something here; something very dangerous, and yet it was just the two of them in this throne room, right?

“I did fear Little Megan catching on and using the Rainbow of Light,” Celestia stated. “However, it seems that fortune smiled upon me, when that day came that I no longer sensed the Rainbow of Light’s presence. Oh how things work out.”

This was very, VERY wrong; whoever this was, this wasn’t Celestia. There wasn’t even that fake sweetness that she used to have in her voice. And that feeling of danger; it was screaming at him at this point, to run. Hide.

“What’s with you?” Rockwell whispered, feeling utterly sick from the feeling of dread creeping over him.

“Beg pardon?” Celestia asked.

“Ah asked, WHAT’S WITH YOU?!” Rockwell yelled. “You’re not Celestia, so who are you?”

He stood tall once more, glaring into Celestia’s eyes to stare her down, demanding the truth. “So tell me; WHO THE BUCK ARE YOU?!”

And then, there was a smirk… a smirk that deeply disturbed the Earth Pony; was this supposed to be some kind of joke? What-

“Alright then, I’ll tell you,” she said, her tone very sinister. “I am not a Homunculus, but I am indeed Celestia or at least what she is now; the old one is here somewhere, being eaten away and disappearing for me to thrive.”

Her horn then lit up as the sun began to move, its positioning done so that the light would shine through the stained glass, Rockwell moved a hoof to cover his left eye from the light.

‘Ugh, talk about bright,’ he mentally groaned, but then, out of the corner of his right eye, he registered something important; their shadows.

His shadow was normal, a regular pony shaped one; nothing different about it. Celestia’s however… it was different, it wasn’t in the shape of an alicorn; it was some kind of massive shape, like half of a pony with something like a minotaur’s upper half body attached to it.

“You see, once Celestia’s spirit no longer posed a threat due to her need for order, I made my move; keeping her content no longer was of my concern,” Not-Celestia said, the voice getting deeper. “After that little bug Sombra was disposed of, well… the charades were definitely over.”

“Well…” Rockwell tried to regain some composure, yelling, “you messed up! You done told me your secret! And Ah’ll…”

The words just died in his throat, that feeling of dread in his gut growing more and more.

“Oh, you’ll do what?” the Queen mockingly asked, “You’ll bust out of here, gallop across Canterlot screaming that the Ruler of the Solar Empire is nothing more than just a puppet? Or are you going to try to fight me, rescue what remains of the original in the vain hope you can stop me and end the war? Just like that?”

“Well, may-” Words were failing him, what was this feeling?

She gave a harsh laugh, “You foolish little earth pony.” Her shadow was doing something, was it coming out of the floor? “Do you really think that you can contend with the likes of me?” Her voice started to either change or mix with something… something dark, deep and utterly horrifying. “I have existed long before your race. In fact through my actions, your tribe came to be.”

The shadow was no longer just a shadow. It had taken a solid form, standing side by side with the Queen. Its form was shrouded in darkness, and it stood tall and massive. Rockwell could see the shadow figure’s eyes, a terrible sickly yellow. He could feel them piercing into his soul...

Rockwell finally knew what this feeling was, one he hadn’t felt in a long time; the feeling of being small, of being afraid for your life in the sight of a predator.

“Your actions through the mindscapes of my puppets were meaningless, and did NOTHING,” they both said in unison, however Celestia’s voice died down while the giant shadow just grew bigger and bigger.

“My biggest obstacle is no longer present, and the fools opposing me are just little ants in a futile struggle against fate. Your journey has only led you here for me to simply tell you this: You are nothing before me,” a voice of pure evil said to him, its eyes narrowing at the terrified Rockwell who took a step back. “Nothing.” Its claws then began to reach out to grab him.

If this was anything else; a dragon, a minotaur, a diamond dog, a griffon… Rockwell would’ve fought back and made sure to resist as hard as he could. This time though? No, he was paralyzed by this thing’s presence and simply couldn’t focus.

Thankfully, the orange glow around him stopped the shadow’s claws from touching him, flaring up and burning them away.

“AGGGGGHHHHH!” the shadow figure screamed, recognizing that type of magical signature. This was his old enemy’s work; it seemed even in death, she would interfere.

However, unbeknownst to the voice’s owner, Rockwell would subconsciously collect some of his memories… of his battle with the alicorn Faust, his defeat at the hands of the human girl and the brave ponies of Dream Valley, and of his comeback, when the so-called “greatest traitor to the Solar Empire” Lyra Heartstrings found his little Bag, using her and other unfortunate souls to carry him over to Celestia and getting his revenge on those that crossed him...

“Wha-” Rockwell’s mind snapped back into attention, his shock no longer keeping him dazed. “What just happened?!”

“You are more protected than I thought,” the shadow growled with annoyance, “However, it will not save you from this.”

The shadow’s eyes and Celestia’s horn both glowed brightly, and then Rockwell felt himself getting burned away; the air around him was heating up. He could even smell his coat and mane charring, but he couldn’t see anything; the entire world had gone white. The Earth Pony stallion collapsed in pain, a string of profanity present all the while he yelled out in confusion and pain.

It was amazing that he was still conscious after all that.

The shadow then reached out once more, and Rockwell could only watch as the world went black.

“Your suffering has only just begun, you will hold all that you have seen… and you will have all that they have shown you, and given you.”

And thus, that was it; Rockwell finally blacked out.

“Why do you think he let you go?”

“He thought Ah was nothing to worry about; not worth his trouble, better for me to suffer for all that Ah’ve been exposed to from my travel through their heads… probably thought it’d be entertaining. The stuff he put in my system though, his magic… it was foul and made me very weak.”

“So they sent you to the prison camp north of the Crystal Empire?”

“Yeah. Ah spent that time broken… if it’s all the same to you, Ah’d appreciate it if we could end this session. Ah need some… Ah need some alone time.”

“Of course, I understand you would need a break. We can resume things later.”

“Thank you Miss Cheerilee, thank you kindly.”

Author's Note

Well, that took forever and more than a month to do and was one difficult number to get through. If none of this gets recognition on the TV Tropes page, or sub pages I will be sad; we worked hard on this filler chapter. Also as for the next chapter its gonna also be a filler, but not a flashback one. Til next time everyone.

P.S. Also, I based Pinkie Pie's sequence on the story One Whole Pie from the Reharmonization POV series; I recommend it based on a subjective opinion stating that it's a rather unique story and idea... also TCB!Pinkie Pie has the Multiple Personalities Canon Pinkie Pie doesn't. Just wanted to clear that up.

P.S.S. The chapter is meant to have two different titles, its official one is to be "Rockwell's Travel Through Darkness" while as an Unsung Tales entry its to be "A Trek Through Those Broken"

The Intermission

Authors:
TheIdiot – *trying to figure out narrations*
Doctor Fluffy – ORE WO DARE DA TO OMOTTE YAGARU?! ORE WA FLUFFY DA!
Kizuna Tallis – Ms. Spectrum Epic Wub Time Girl
Editors:
Bendy – The Crazy guy who used to be known as Rush.
Kizuna Tallis – Wub, Wub Wub Wub
VoxAdam
Redskin122004 – The confused creator watching his friends go nuts.

1: The Lesser Authority

“They’re coming for me... To my bastard son, I loved you, though I wish I could’ve told you more often. To the mare I love on Earth, I hope I can see you soon. To my illegitimate daughter, don’t lose your way. To those few PHL that’ll miss me, don’t worry. I may be gone, I may make my way to earth, but the Mare in Blue shall live on. If I live through this, I suppose I’ll have to be a stallion again, if only for a few weeks, but it’s all worth it. I am spellproof. I am potion-proof. I am an idea, and while they may stop me, they cannot stop the PHL. They cannot stop the resistance, and they cannot stop Equestria. Goodbye, you sons of bitches.”

The Mare in Blue, or at least one of them, escaping from her studio. A second later, massive explosions rang out above three freight depots in Fillydelphia, killing dozens of Newfoals and throwing the city into anarchy for more than half a day.

I can’t seem to stop them.

I-I can’t seem to stop those thoughts from creeping into my head… Celestia, all there is and ever will be is Celestia; she is the all loving mother of Equestria and we all love her. She is perfect in every way.

We all bask in her great bright lig–

“S-stop… please… I don’t know anything!” croaks the pegasus mare with the broken wings. Her voice sounded dry and raspy. “Just send me back to my cel–”

I immediately heard a loud crack as a unicorn brings down her metal club, breaking the pegasus’ left foreleg; I can see my ‘wife’ and superior, Head Warden Iustita as she is officially called, her features contorted with disgust as she holds the club in telekinesis.

She always hates it when things are cut short.

“Did I say you were done?!” Iustita snaps, ignoring the pegasus’ cries of pain.

This isn’t an unusual occurrence after all. She’ll have a prisoner brought to her office, and then ‘question’ them about the illegal activities they’re accused of. They all say they don’t know anything, honestly, and it was a strange thing all things considered.

The reality of it is even stranger, it’s all just an excuse for Iustita to release her vicious desire to inflict physical pain on others, and like so many times before, she’ll get that by abusing her powers as Head Warden of the Prison Camp, and yet… somehow, I need to ask one thing; why?

Why does she do this to them?

…Why are we doing this?

We’re ponies, friendship is universal… right? We are all blessed by Celestia’s light, to reach out and uplift others for Perfect Harmony… and yet we’re hurting our own kind.

Why?

I need to think, something Lavender Dreams isn’t able to do much of in fact, yet she’s a Newfoal like me – those ponies are Betrayers, corrupted by the apes’ lies and the darkness that surrounds them.

My previous monkey self has been, graciously, uplifted years ago, and I’m so happy to have left that horrible planet for the wonders of Equestria. I mean, sure, it was a bit odd for Twilight Sparkle to do some checkups on me once I arrived in Canterlot and all… but it’s not an issue.

I’m still happy and all.

In fact, I’m even happier that I can help others see our beloved Goddess’s glorious light, and alongside such a beautiful mare. My dear Iustita really is a loving soul once you get to know her when she isn’t dealing with those Betrayers. Oh, I’m so grateful that she picked me amongst all the other stallions she had to choose from…

…But wait, I’m losing my train of thought. Why are we hurting them? Wouldn’t that just make them feel justified about us? About what those apes have said about us?

Eventually, I witness Iustita order a pair of guards to haul the broken and injured pegasus away. Probably sent off to Medical due to her inability to work and yet… there’s something about this, feels rather familiar somehow…

A young mare sent off by somepony important, sent away and rejected for reasons unclear to them. Unable to see the true light and the answers like others. Why pity them? They’re Betrayers! Their minds are suffering from a horrific taint of lies from those apes!

It is my duty as Vice Warden of this facility to help them see the truth. Besides, I’m happily married to a mare such as this. Our love is…

Our love is…

Our lov–

…Just what is our love anyway?

Love is something that I… that I felt back… back on the hellworld, Earth. In these weird dreams, I see those humans… Those humans…

Their names always escape my tongue, no matter how hard I try, and even then I don’t remember being in a relationship with that… ape and… the girl.

Who?

Every time her smiling face flashes through my mind, I feel my heart warm up, yet when I see her crying it makes me want to… hold her, comfort her like a…

Like a parent would their foal–

“New Bloom.”

Iustita’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a knife through melted butter. “I need some ice to cool me off. Will you be a dear and get it for me?”

“Yes, honey,” I reply on reflex, my body already moving towards the ice bucket and using my telekinesis to get some ice cubes for my wife. It’s true what they say, when you’re married, you’re two souls joined as one.

“Good, now please begin rubbing it on me,” she orders and, like a dutiful husband, I begin to rub the ice on her body as if it were lotion.

She welcomes the cold ice cooling down her strained body. Iustita does always get this way when she’s had a session with difficult prisoners that do know something. Sometimes she’ll even get really riled up and want me to… personally cool her off. And I always do when she asks.

I like doing everything my wife asks… never, ever saying no to anything.

Her quiet moans grab my attention. Thanks to thorough experience, I know I’m almost done with this and soon I can… I can go back to doing nothing. It’s what I always do whenever I’m not being a loving husband to her.

It is raining.

What? Didn’t the forecast call for it to clear all week? Is the weather team slacking off, or does West Lightning know something we don’t? He always said the weather here was strange.

I can hear the rain patter against the windows. Iustita too takes notice of this.

“Oh, what a shame. Seems like they get today off, then. Oh well, I’ll make them work even harder tomorrow to make up for the lost time.”

She gets up and heads towards the bedroom, “New Bloom, come join me in bed,” she says casually, “I have a… great feeling about this moment.”

But I’m not paying attention to her.

All I can do at the moment is just… gaze out of the window. There is something specific again present as the rain falls. It’s like those dreams I’ve had.

It was… it was Nightmare Night and– NO! It wasn’t that! It was something else, it was like Nightmare Night… but different! It was raining, and that girl was there. She was left standing outside and she was sad again. Why–

“New Bloom,”

Iustita. I can hear irritation in her tone.

“I said to come join me in bed, now.”

Can’t say no. It just isn’t polite to keep her waiting like tha–

“…left me here waiting…”

A voice surges through my mind, an unknown one that makes me wonder who it belongs to. Is it the girl’s? She sounds upset, very upset over… over… over waiting for so long for somepony that never showed up to see her.

… How do I know that!?

Tartarus, why would I even care!? She’s a human, an ape! An imperfect being that… that… that I have a bond with. Not like the one I share with Iustita or with Lavender Dreams. None of that is real to me. They are the dream, and the human girl is real!

But, who is she? Her name, what was her name? I can feel it on the tip of my tong–

“HEY!”

Sounds like Iustita is getting real testy now. She’s standing right in front of me, her steely grey eyes looking right into my pale purple – or lilac, either one works I guess – colored eyes.

“I told you to come to bed! Now!”

Yet, I just… look, I just can’t right now, I’ll help her in a moment. Must focus on the girl , find her name… was she–

“ARE YOU LISTENING!?”, she yelled angrily.

Come on! It’s there! I just need to say it already!

“Iustita?”

“Yes?”

“I must respectfully…” I need to stop, my mind is starting to tear itself apart over what I’m about to do next, but it isn’t rude, per se.

“Respectfully what?” she demands, “Out with it! What were you saying?”

“I must–” No! The image is starting to distort. Something is preventing me from remembering. Why? I want to remember! “I must respectfully dis-in-cline to your request.” Focus now, she was standing in the rain, she was sad about… about… being left there on her own? Was that it?

“What was that?”

Iustita herself zones in on my strange behavior. “Did you just say no to me?” She sounds more confused and shocked than offended.

The girl… cried, she cried into my shoulder while I’m wrapping my… forelegs around her? N-no! That’s not it. A-arms? Is that it? I hugged her in an embrace to comfort her?

“Y-yes. I did, I’m… s-sorry,” I apologize… getting hard to think now. what was her name? Just… just somepony! Anypony! Tell me her name!

Please! It… it...

*WARNING: SUBJECT IS ON VERGE OF PROGRAMING ERROR.*

Her name… her name is…

*UNABLE TO COUNTERACT CORRUPTION. SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT*

Is…

I can’t verify it. I just can’t.

All I can see is… darkness. My mind, it’s failing me… what would the humans call it? A stroke? I guess that’s what's going on. I’m just blacking out, never knowing that human girl’s name, and all I can see of her is her crying face… along with this need to comfort her while we both stand outside in the rain, together.

“NEW BLOOM!” Iustita cried out in horror, catching her lover as he fell forward and collapsed into her forelegs. What just happened?

She sat up, carrying the weight of his unconscious body. Several questions ran through her mind, but she knew one thing for sure: whoever did this is going to pay. Somepony was going to burn. Buck this prison, buck everything, even what Sparkle said – somepony just ruined New Bloom, the stallion she’d generously rescued from Equestria after he left that dirt ball.

‘That uppity little traitor Inkwell, he must have done this,’ she thought sinisterly, her eyes narrowing. ‘He is going to pay for this transgression.’

Those blasted Betrayers, so eager to stab their fellow pony in the back. Humans on four hooves were all that they were! Unworthy of their good Queen’s light! If she had her way, this place would be their graves. Well, them and the other races, but still.

It was Justice to do this. What she, the Royal Guards, the PER, the Elements of Harmony, Celestia’s Sword and the Glorious Queen herself were doing. These actions were done in the name of justice, every last one! Re-regardless of what may happen… or had happened to any creature or anypony. They were right, s-she was right.

Always n-never wwwwrrrron-Guilty! Tyrants! MURDERERS! Oh Luna what have we done!? WHY?! It… it-it was the right thing to do. Our Queen knows it is, and so do I..

It was all justice.

2: The Comfort of Sound/Setting of the Sun

“To become a revolutionary you have to be a human being. You have to care about people who have no power.”

Jane Fonda

“Stand up for your Queen and fellow ponies! Fight in the name of the Solar Empire! Stop those violent apes and make sure they never hurt another pony again!

Join the Royal Guard today!”

Common Recruitment Propaganda for the Royal Guard

*Thump thump*

You can hear it, can’t you?

*Thump thump*

Sounds like two beats doesn’t it?

*Thump thump*

Well it isn’t two, it’s actually the eighth and sixteenth beat. Repeats every six to eight seconds. It’s the sound of your heart beating.

*Thump thump*

It’s music… it’s a sound.

*Thump thump*

It’s a wonderful thing to have, don’t you think?

*Thump thump*

Of course you do. You, Soundstorm, that guard outside, Rockwell and, soon enough, Inkwell will too, probably.

The sound of your heart beating is something not everypony is able to hear. At least, they don’t listen to it like you do.

*Thump thump*

For you, it’s the only sound you can hear in this cell. It’s always quiet in here, nothing else present for you to reach out and touch. The guards, most of them at least, all share the same symphony – a music that is very controlled, sounds of oppression and instruments that are forcibly played against the orchestra’s will by the same conductor.

For the inmates, they all have different sounds, yet usually there are similar tunes playing. The sounds of sadness, of a difficulty to keep going, of a decaying strength… and instruments of an empty, forlorn hope. Some of them, unfortunately, lose their ability to produce their own sound and are consumed by that dreadful silence.

*Thump thump*

It’s such a sad thing, really. To hear them lose their independent sounds, replaced by that awful noise those creatures emit.

“Newfoals,” you whisper, though of course, no one can hear you in here.

It doesn’t help that those things will sometimes come here, try to damage your orchestra and force you to conform to their accursed drone of dread.

Whatever happened to that very same noise your old self heard once?

“It was so long ago.”

You whisper again, your eyes focused on the floor, memories of an old life present in your head. It was definitely a long time ago, a time that keeps growing longer and longer as the days go by. You were so different back then, with a much better symphony playing to your beat.

Perhaps… perhaps that unicorn colt should know, Inkwell is your chronicler too. He now must have seen what is unseen about the Element Bearers by now, Rockwell must have shown him.

*Thump thump*

Another time, then. Best to practice and remember one’s sound.

What were the principles, again?

Rhythm. Tempo. Melody. Structure. Texture. Form. Articulation. Dynamics. Timbre. Pitch. Tone. Harmony…

…You and the others must bring it back, bring back the sounds of Harmony to Equus. It has been left silent by that… creature for far too long.

“Fate has been cruel and order unkind, how can I have sent you away?” you whisper, trying to remember the old lullaby that Celestia use to sing to Luna every night… before her return, and once, just once, after her permanent return.

What was Luna’s reply again?

“…So rest easy now, my punishment’s mine. The weight of my crimes are my own.”
The lyrics simply line up for you to sing, despite only having heard it once.

Yes…

…That was it.

Both of them singing together, that was a more beautiful Harmony than ever before or would be ever be.

One that you will probably never hear from again.

If that creature gets its way.

There was a heavy pounding on the front door, and it was well past eleven at night; who would be up at this hour, and coming to see her, no less?

“Sunset Shimmer! Open up!” cried a male voice from the other side, “I know you’re in there! We need to talk!”

So he knew her name, and his voice actually sounded kind of familiar. Sunset knew that a girl could never be too careful though. She grabbed a baseball bat she had for certain situations, and was ready to beat this guy’s head in if he tried anything funny before looking out the peephole. She could see a very well-dressed man with blue skin and greying hair on the outside. He looked particularly rushed, like he’d been running for several miles to get here.

“Who are you?!”

“Sunset, it’s me! I was the Headmaster of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns,” he said in an urgent voice, yet barely above a whisper. “Remember? I was Celestia’s pupil, years before you. Now, please, you need to listen, for there is not much time to explain! A great evil has befallen Equestria, and I need your help to end it!”

You try to continue as you might, but it’s a hard task to undertake each and every day.

To do the same thing and make sure your cover isn’t blown, that the mnemosurgical spells laced into the most seemingly innocuous objects do not brainwash you. If they did, everything would be ruined on such a horrific scale. You know this, and so does Nightrise Shine.

It’s difficult to bear knowing such things, or even to be aware of them; the pressure and anticipation alone could drive one to insanity practically.

It’s the most difficult thing that anypony could possibly go through.

Sunset was sure she was either dreaming, or had officially lost her mind.

This man, who suddenly became aged physically with an overgrown grey scruff on his chin (he claimed that the enchantment on his ring had finally worn out), had the same name as Canterlot High’s guidance counselor and was claiming to be the (now-retired) headmaster of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

Apparently, he’d used her old communication spellbook on the Mirror Portal to enable it to send him here, even though the thirtieth moon hadn’t yet come about.

“Look, Miss Shimmer,” he told her, “I don’t care about your little power trip, I don’t care about whatever happened between you and Celestia that soured your relationship, because right now, we have bigger, far worse things to worry about, and this time, Celestia is the problem. Tell me, have you ever seen, or even heard of, Equestria commit xenocide?”

She shook her head. “No… what’s xenocide?”

“Extermination! The deliberate killing of an entire sentient species!” he cried. “I saw what that horrific relic was planning! What you desire doesn’t matter, if that thing knew about this mirror… tell me… do you think you’d stand a chance against your former teacher, even with the Element of Magic on your side?”

“Fight… Celestia?!” Sunset Shimmer asked, with a kind of awed horror. What was this old loon going on about? A relic planning something? And Celestia exterminating a whole race?

“She wouldn’t hold back, and she would make you suffer,” continued the old man, desperation making itself felt in his tone. “And that’s if you are lucky. So I ask you, Sunset, are you willing to come back with me and find a way to fix things? Or are you going to stay here, forever powerless… and hope she doesn’t find a way here?

“Just, why? Why would Celestia do… that?” Sunset realized her voice shaking. “She was like… like a mother to all Equestria! And what did you mean by a relic planning this? How could that be even remotely possible?”

“It is possible,” he said grimly. “Celestia was corrupted by a relic containing the soul of an ancient evil named Tirek, who seeks to enslave all living beings under his rule. How do I know this? Because I’m the one that let it happen.” Tears of guilt welled in his eyes as his grip on the cane tightened. “It’s my fault this came to pass, and now... I have to make things right. We don’t have much time, Sunset. You have to come with me to Equestria and fix this.”

“Why me, exactly?” Sunset asked cautiously. “How do I know you’re not making this all up?”

“Because,” he replied candidly, “you seem to be the root of all the problems here, and it’s very suspicious that you interfered with a group of individuals that show the spark of Magic which eluded us both when we studied under the Princess. Besides, only you would want to wear the same crown on your head every time after being denied your dream of becoming a Princess.”

“Nightrise Shine, you there?” a southern Equestrian accented voice called out.

You are reeled out of your thoughts and turn to see one of heads of authority of the prison. A pegasus stallion stood there wearing a lightweight armor that wouldn’t interfere with his flying. West Lightning, one of the Co-Chiefs of Staff of the Prison Camp; he’s best known as the Warden’s eyes in the skies.

“Uh, yes, West Lightning, sir?” you reply, caught off guard from direct contact. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

“You kinda zoned out,” he drawls, quietly trotting towards you and moving you away from the padded, dark cell that contained a particular inmate. “Best to keep yourself awake and focused around her; she could use her whistlin’ to make you pass out.”

Well of course she could do that, Soundstorm’s abilities are of sound barrier manipulation. She had the word sound in her name for pity’s sake.

Even if you didn’t know that, you’d be able to guess it using common sense… something that many ponies don’t seem to have much of these days.

You know this, and so does Nightrise Shine.

“Anyway, Nightrise I need you to come with me,” West Lightning orders, the tone of his voice authoritative. It suits him.

“Umm, did I do anything wrong sir?” you ask him

“Oh no you didn’t,” he clarifies, “Right now it’s calling time for all the guards, including you.”

Calling time was Royal Guard talk for all the guards to get their duties assigned for the next 72 hours. It’s always a dangerous gamble for everypony, because you could wind up getting assigned ‘Medical Duty’ and nopony wanted to be around Twilight Sparkle’s lab, codenamed Camp 731.

Twilight Sparkle… the Bearer of Magic.

She was probably the first one Celestia corrupted.

Probably.

It seemed that he could read her mind (or at least he could tell what she was thinking), saying, “Look, Sunset, I know you have a hard time believing what I’m telling you, but I couldn’t make this up even if I tried. Equestria has turned its back on its own principles, and this evil that corrupted Celestia is not going to stop with just Equestria. He is already planning to attack another world that is inhabited by humans, all because one single human named Megan Williams somehow crossed the barrier between her world and ours, and defeated him all by herself! And if he succeeds in destroying Megan’s world… he will spread to all of the others like the worst of plagues.”

“Who exactly is Tirek?” she asked. She couldn’t help but shiver as she said that name; it just sent a feeling of dread through her on an almost primal level.

“Do you remember the legend of Dream Valley? Or of the lost KV-62 Party?” he asked her back.

Sunset tried racking through her brain, remembering quite a bit. “I remember Doctor Waggoner’s books on the conspiracy, about how an evil force from the land was building up his forces but was stopped by a being from another world. His expedition supposedly turned up findings, but their ship was caught in a freak storm on the way back to Equestria and was never recovered. Did… did they find something that would facilitate Tirek’s return? Is it that relic you said corrupted Celestia?”

“Sadly, yes. That relic is a bag that contains his very essence and powers. It worms its way into its victims’ minds, turning their most noble attributes against themselves… until they’re little more than empty puppets for it to pull on their strings. A poor unwitting mare from Ponyville found Tirek’s Bag in that sunken ship, and it used her… and… forced myself, as its instruments to ensure it would end up in Celestia’s hooves.” He became quiet for a moment, taking his handkerchief out to blot out the tears forming in his eyes. Sunset could see the bottomless guilt in them, his despair. A small part of her wanted to reach out and reassure him that it wasn’t his fault if that bag did indeed control his mind, but she held off on that.

Several questions raced through her mind. She finally settled on one and asked, “Can he be defeated?”

He sighed, “There are powers out there, in Equestria and all across the multiverse, that could rival Tirek, even defeat him. But I’ve seen his thoughts and how he’s planning all this. He’s no fool; he’ll just gather power from weaker worlds, enslaving the inhabitants there until he amasses a limitless army for himself. An army so massive, he could just send them out to trample over their defenses and take the world for himself with no trouble. We have to stop him before he even begins.”

“How exactly is he enslaving them?” Sunset asked.

“Do you remember what Starswirl the Bearded wrote about the limits of the Amiomorphic Spell?” He asked her in return, “The specific details of it?”

You trot alongside West Lightning through a bleak hallway full of prison cells; some of the prisoners were ponies, some of them were zebras, some of them were griffons, there were even some Diamond Dogs, and mules... yet there were very few Crystal Ponies these days.

And knowing what happened to them… that was certainly some grade-A nightmare fuel right there.

Especially all the testing done that lead to the creation of the Totem Poles; all those poor souls… to be free of Sombra only to be trapped under the control of another Tyrant and be degraded even worse.

Thankfully many of them were strong of will and could hold out together, it wasn’t difficult for them to slowly get organized together; they just needed to be very discreet.

It can be hard to keep things hidden these days, hiding in plain sight is something that has taken weeks and months on end to perfect and refine - even then it took even more time to implement it.

Sunset momentarily paused to remember. She slowly muttered, “The power of the Amiomorphic Spell is not to be denied, but for all its ability to reshape the form of a pony, it is incapable of true metamorphosis. For a short time, a unicorn might know the joy of flight, or an earth pony the grace of magic, but these transformations are, by the decree of natural law, a temporary state. To effect a permanent change in any being’s innermost alignment, which arises from the magic of the soul, would require a vile ensorcelling of that same soul…”

Her eyes widened with horror and disgust, and a noise between a squeak and gasp escaped her lips. The old man grimly nodded his head and responded, “Precisely. He is planning to create something that will bind his victims’ souls in chains and make them prisoners of his twisted will and desires. It will make them completely loyal to him, unable to question or rebel against him. His soldiers would be nothing more than just brainless golems that would throw themselves right into the fire for his purposes.”

Sunset began nervously pacing around, taking all this news in. This was utterly horrifying to the core. Sure, she still had a lot of bitter memories about Celestia, but no one deserved whatever horrible mind tricks and corruption this Tirek was doing to her. And if Tirek was indeed going to enslave an entire world of sapient beings by binding their souls to his will and use them as his unstoppable army to conquer the entire multiverse… the consequences would indeed be catastrophic!

You and the Co-Chief of Staff would arrive soon in the guards’ center, various ponies were gathered for their assignments for the next three days - Iron Core, the other chief of staff, was standing next to a drawing board.

So far, no one appeared to be troubled - it looked like ‘Medical Duty’ hadn’t been selected yet… this was either bad or neutral because you could be the one that drew it.

‘What does Twilight do in there?’ Both you and Nightrise Shine have wondered, watching as different stallions and mares go to draw different duties, somewhere simple like watching prisoners clean rooms.

Given the rumors you have heard, the cognitive restructuring therapy that newfoals have termed ‘mind healing’ (Those shits, those little golems acting like they’re better ponies than you - and the thought abruptly terminates) the two of you have come to the unspoken agreement that it was better not knowing.

Others… were difficult, like watching Iustita doing an ‘interrogation’ with somepony innocent. Something had snapped in the mare a long time ago.

All were guilty in her eyes because of it unfortunately.

Sunset Shimmer would admit she wasn’t a nice person, but she was not evil. She was comfortable where she was, in this world beyond (or inside?) the mirror, but much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t sit by and do nothing. It wasn’t her problem…. yet.

It had all gone crazy. Plus, well, she liked to live a free life where she wouldn’t get turned into a slave for a deranged evil or suffer some fate worse than death. She took a deep breath, and turned to the man, ready for business.

“So, what do we do first?” she asked, her tone getting right to the point.

His eyebrows shot up, half surprised and half relieved that she actually was agreeing to come with him. He thought for a few seconds and then replied, “Well, the first step would be to seal off this side of the portal; make sure that even if we fail, this world will at least be spared from that damn bag.”

He then started to take his leave, “I’ll give you the rest of the night to collect what you wish to take with you; and don’t worry, I already have undone what you have caused. This world’s Celestia and Luna know full well and will take the necessary steps once we have left. Just make sure to meet me at the statue early in the morning, Miss Shimmer.”

“Nightrise Shine!” a voice called out, forcing you to look to the Drawing Board… it was your turn now and so far nopony had drawn Medical Duty.

You know for a fact that you’re the one that is going to draw the thing, it’s as plain as day and as obvious as to how far Equestria had fallen these past few years.

It’s horrifying to know how far Celestia had fallen because of that bag… because of that damn bag the Mother to all of Equestria had changed into a horrific tyrant.

One may wonder certain things… what would happen if the bag was never discovered? Would you even be here? Would any creature be at this place?

...Would you be the same person you were back then? Plotting to come here and steal the Crown?

You simply don’t know, all you do know is that it probably happened somewhere, somewhen… but not here.

Definately not here.

You know this, and so does Nightrise Shine.

You stop before Iron Core, a mask of pure metal is there to greet you - a pair of shadowed out holes with no light shone for his eyes. He makes no noise, he’s practically as hollowed out as what Captain Shining Armor and probably most of the Royal Guard are… although he displays it on the surface as opposed to the others having it within.

Your horn lights up as you draw from the box, from it emerges a card reading ‘Head Warden Tasks’ - a wildcard that means it’s all up to Iustita on what you’re going to do.

And unfortunately, that means it could be anything…

Although it seems that you’re not going to have to wait long to wait to see.

”One last look,” Sunset Shimmer muttered to herself, looking around while she had her backpack on. She had packed everything she deemed necessary, although it felt that it just wasn’t enough; she was going back ‘home’;… and it was not going to be the way she thought it would be. And more, it’s going to be done to save Equestria.

Ironic really, she left because Celestia had denied her her wish to be a Princess and now? Now she was going to stop Celestia, and possibly be a hero… maybe even be crown a Princess when this is all over.

Maybe.

‘Who knows, maybe I’ll return here soon too,’ she thought, a small smile on her face before turning the lights off and walking out of the building, locking the door.

“It’s a sad and stupid thing to have to proclaim yourself a revolutionary just to be a decent man.”

David Harris

Canterlot.

It looks like a such a dream doesn’t it? The structures made brick by brick, delicate spires of magic reaching to the heavens like angel's wings.

And there were ponies, ponies laughed, ponies smiled, ponies almost never cried… for why would they? They thought they lived in a Utopia.

I hate it. I hate them. I hate her most of all.

Celestia. ‘Queen’ Celestia.

They call her a goddess. The gods know she is worshipped as one in that pristine, soulless hell.

Those not in her thrall see her as the Solar Tyrant; I just call her the devil’s puppet. What she has become is the culmination of everything I have ever fought against: plain and simple, she is a tyrant. Oh, to be sure, she tries to portray herself as a benevolent one. Certainly, within the walls of her antiseptic little community, you’d never hear a word of protest about their ‘noble queen’.

I bet the trains run on time there too. Or whatever form of transport they use these days. It has been a while since I've gone near that sterile pit, after all.

I remember dreaming once... it was the day when I was going to fight her. It felt like a decade ago… although I’m willing to bet that it has been that long since I’ve seen her last in truth, possibly longer. It was worth it, worth it to finally stand against her after all that time spent preparing and facing her as long as I was and not dying so simply… but then I was called evil, a betrayer… a human lover.

Evil? Evil was to live in a world of black and white, and to think you are the white. Evil was to say ‘You are bad, I am good.’ Evil was to view the world and what lies beyond it in absolutes. ‘Evil’ was merely a lie.

And so was what this city had become.

But what could I do? Magic? I have magic. A lot of magic… so much magic in fact, its overwhelming sometimes. In my dreams, I’ve even almost matched Starswirl the Bearded. But, alas, there is magic, and then there is Celestia. Many a fool hasn't lived long enough to learn that mistake or even discover it.

But... but there is a way. I’m not sure if I can do it, I don’t know if I have the magic, and I certainly don’t know if I can get past all those blasted abominations… but hey, it’s worth a try after all and I’ve got allies too.

Timing is the key. With the right time, I can set things right. I can find peace.

I will do it. Perhaps I will die. Perhaps I will cease to exist all things considered, perhaps the demon using Celestia will wipe me off the face of this Equus. Perhaps nothing at all will happen. Somehow, I don’t care. I feel over nine hundred years, I just don’t care anymore.

Please, grant me an end to this. Grant me the success to end the one who started it all… grant me just one chance.

And grant that my soul is long since gone, lest it be sent to Tartarus or Hell for what I have become.

And above all... allow me to dream once more. Allow me to dream in peace… allow me to dream of my youth and of times since passed.

For it has been time and again, that dreams are all we have to survive.

Last entry in a small diary that was found by scavengers near the Crystal Empire, three years after the war. When this entry was written, and by whom, remains both unknown and uncertain.

“Citizens of Equestria… we have heard of the recent stories of supposed ‘ghosts’ and alleged sightings of these supposed ‘apparitions’ of those that have passed onto the afterlife our majesty is alarming. But, do not fret. We believe this to be the work of the traitors and humans to ruin morale through a means of magic that has been outlawed ages ago. When the human world is purified these ‘ghosts’ will merely be stories like humanity will be, and we will all be within the new era together. For we will not falter, our efforts will pay off and all will be fabulous.”

Common radio propaganda, narrated by Rarity

A Truth

It… it was too much, it was all too much to bear.

Twilight Sparkle, half dead and imprisoned in a stump; her salvation dashed entirely...

Applejack, restrained to a rotten tree; her relationship with her family destroyed thanks to that thing that took over her body…

Rarity, suffering in a manner most horrific; consumed by the despair of failing to protect her loved ones any further…

Pinkamena Diane Pie, unable to make anypony smile and forced to watch as she did atrocity after atrocity; her shriek of a breakdown said it all…

Celestia, wasting away somewhere within her own mind, stuck to a puppet of a horrific evil; its voice full of dismissal as it reaches out to claim another victim...

It was all simply too much, somepony had to know the truth but… who would believe him?

They were all corrupted by it, they were all a part of it… all just puppets on strings and-

“Enough!” a voice cut through, “You must awaken young Chronicler, the next chapter begins soon.”

There was then a push and...

Bolting up from his cot with a gasp of air, Inkwell could feel his heart pounding in his chest; last night… he, he was exposed to the truth and-

“You up yet, pinhead?”

A familiar gruff voice cut through the unicorn’s train of thought. “Or are you gonna be like this from here on in?”

Turning his head, Inkwell could see Rockwell sitting in his cot directly across from him; his expression was a tad bit amused over this.

“Well?” he asked again

“Thank Luna, no,” Inkwell groaned. He turned his head around to release the cricks in his neck; if he ever got back to a normal life, he was sure he would still feel this ache for the rest of his life.

“So, what’d you see? A bunch of monkeys dying while being exposed to somethin’?” Rockwell guessed, “Or did you get dragged through a never-ending party where the kids would start screaming after having their cake?”

“The Elements’ Bearers… getting tortured. Inside their own minds…” Inkwell replied, voice shaking.

Rockwell reached over and takes out an old plastic bottle full of a purple liquid, throwing it over to Inkwell, saying “Here, drink some shine; usually gets your head off of what you see.”

“No thanks. I’m not drinking anything purple…”

“Inkwell. Either you drink that shine or I force it down your gullet,” Rockwell said flatly, “It will make you feel better.”

The thought of Rockwell forcing the prison camp’s homebrew down his throat wasn’t something that Inkwell would enjoy, at all. He’d might as well get it over with. He levitated the bottle to his lips, and took a big gulp, trying to ignore the horrible burn in his mouth and sinuses.

‘Mother of Luna, it STILL tastes like burning sandpaper!’ Inkwell blanched, coughing. He could feel it going into his stomach and… and… he didn’t feel it anymore.

His mind is clear, he can think.

“You feel that? That’s why you wanna drink the homebrew,” Rockwell said with a slight smile, “It’s somethin’ special, allows for you to get your head cleared up and to cure your ills… mostly. Just don’t have too much of it, I’ll mess you up somethin’ hard.”

Inkwell just shook his head, “I can feel my liver eroding away… Goodbye, old friend...”

“That ain’t important Inkwell, what is important is that you get your head cleared up and ready because everything here on in is gonna be downhill,” the old stallion said ominously.

That made the former reporter curious. How could it go anymore downhill from this? The imprint showed him everything, and… wait...

What about Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy? His nightmare only showed him glimpses of the others. What was going on with them? Why didn’t he see their mindscapes?

Oh well, he was probably better off not knowing. He got a pretty good idea of what had been going on with the Elements, and those two were probably suffering every bit the same as their friends.

“Well… at least we know why Celestia’s been acting strange for the past few years,” Inkwell said with a shrug. “She would never-”

“Oh really?” Rockwell challenged, “How do we know that for sure? Maybe that buckin’ bag just brought out how she truly is, just took out a good chunk of her horseapples.”

“What?”

“You heard me, maybe it brought out who she really is instead of what she was trying to be,” he repeated. “That this whole time she never really cared about anyone but her throne.”

“Rockwell,” Inkwell began, trying to figure out how to best explain how Celestia has changed to somepony that is (justifiably) bitter. “Celestia was a kind ruler, she would’ve never-”

"Where was she then?” Rockwell asked out of the blue, cutting the unicorn off.

“Excuse me?”

“Where was she?" Rockwell asked again, his tone grim. "Where was she years ago, when Stone Edge suffered from his nightmare? Where he was getting attacked by some kinda monster in his dreams that would’ve made him a slave? She weren’t there, Ah was.”

“Wait-” Inkwell tried to say, but Rockwell cut him off.

He ranted on, “Where was she, when Ah was new? When I was one of those young innocent foals that she ‘gave her love to’?” He showed some old faded personal scars to emphasize his point. “Where was she when Ah suffered at the hooves of those Pinheads that came from the city, and when my Pops had to work double… sometimes triple shifts to only make small wages?”

“Well she-”

“And then that one night when he never came home again?” Rockwell continued, his mind recalling the day when they got the news that his father’s ‘body’ turned up. “How dare she… how dare she had me be brought to her then, after Ah became old and her like that?”

His tone had become bitter while his expression had turned into one of wrath, snarling, “Like Ah said, it’s all downhill from here Inkwell, and that’s a truth for you.”

Inkwell almost wanted to smack his head against a mountain; he finally had enough.

“Will you stop ragging for a minute and let me SAY something!?” Inkwell shouted, his rage and irritation having finally reached a boiling point. “Stars above, Rockwell, I get it! You had a lousy foalhood, and felt like Celestia had completely abandoned you the moment you were born. But she was never malicious! She’s powerful, but even she would’ve admitted she was not all-knowing; if she had known about what happened to you, I’m more than sure she would’ve helped you out in a heartbeat.”

He ranted on, “Over just the last week, my entire life has been turned upside down! I’ve seen what the Newfoals do after hours, and it was, without a doubt, the most disturbing thing I’d ever seen, at least until I saw what you showed me! I watched the city I called my home turn into an overpopulated, poverty-stricken and polluted manure hole, ponies that I thought were my friends turned me over to this place, and I found out that everything I had once supported was wrong! That I was actually gleefully calling for the extermination of a whole species, just because I was being told to think that way!”

Rockwell just sat on his cot, watching Inkwell. He had no reaction to Inkwell’s outburst, he didn’t say anything.

A moment later however…

“Prisoner,” a voice said, both cellmates turned their heads to see a small group of guards present - the one in front was levitating the cell keys with her telekinesis, her horn glowed as she unlocked and opened the cell’s door. “The Head Warden wants to see you for questioning.”

Two Earth Ponies would enter from behind her and forcibly drag Inkwell out of his cot which made the unicorn pale as his eyes widened in shock - it seemed to be his turn now… oh Luna, please no.

He wasn’t ready for this, not by a long shot.

‘Just hold out Inkwell,’ Rockwell thought as he watched the unicorn being forcibly dragged away. ‘You drank the brew, it’ll keep your mind going as long as you’ll keep going - you got the fire there; just keep it going.’ He then gave a glance at the mare in the back as she shut the cell door, and the two locked eyes, knowing what was to come.

“Nightrise, come on, we can’t keep Head Warden Iustita waiting,” one of the Guards called back. She looked to Rockwell one last time who nodded slightly before she went off to join the others.

If one could look, one may find something certain…

Sometimes it may be something long lost for years on end, a great treasure within one’s family of great personal importance that may be worth much to those who seek profit; or, it could be something that was lost for a reason… because those that got rid of it, wanted to make sure it remained lost.

However, sometimes there are things that are different - things that are undiscovered and beneath the Everfree Forest lays a cavern not only long lost yet long forgotten, remembered only by the few that originally found it… outside of its creator and her ‘student’ so to speak.

In fact, said student was there now - his form that of a well dressed human male; a disguise created to be amongst humanity in a manner that is less conspicuous yet, it also is a penance for what he feels he has done to them and also the source of why he is dying now.

His expression was clearly unhappy as he approached the tree of great power - a medium to not only certain worlds, but to other parts of Equus itself and a direct line to the one he follows.

The man put a hand onto the tree after he approaches it, his eyes glowed blue as his magic was energized by being in contact with the Tree of Harmony… in some worlds it was never created while in others it simply doesn’t exist; a peculiar thing isn’t it?

“We need to talk. I am growing very worried about what I am seeing, Faust…” he said, speaking to one that is and is not there. “I am afraid that if things continue as they do, it may be too late for our Equestria and all will be lost - regardless of what those from the other Equestria do...”

Author's Note

My god that took months, I’m just happy I finally got through this whole thing and it’s finally over and I can now worry over having to make the next chapter… sweet nickle I’m going to need therapy when this is over.

Catch you later everyone.

First Composition - A Duet Between Two Mares

Author's Note

Sweet christ it's been months since I've updated this thing!

Boy I feel like an arse right now.

Never the less, I hope you enjoy the new chapter and what we have to show for our hard work...

Although to be clear there's going to be some music involved, including a bit from a Pokemon movie.

But enough of my ramblings! Go on and enjoy!

First Composition - A Duet Between Two Mares

Authors:
TheIdiot – Finds interrogations hell to do
Doctor Fluffy – *wishes he had a mullet at one point just to quote something* - the hell I do!
Kizuna – Happy (Late) Birthday
Editors:
Bendy – Is he Rush again yet?
Kizuna – Go treat yourself Kiz
Redskin122004 – Stuck driving a truck

“BREAKING NEWS! Trouble Brewing In The Skies!?”

In case you thought things were settling down after the “Hand-In-Hoof Riots” from four days prior, where the unfortunate peaceful protesters supporting PER and Conversion Bureau personnel were beaten up in an unprovoked attack by those ape-loving agitators, then we here of the Canterlot Tribune have rather unfortunate news to share.

Just yesterday, in Cloudsdale, the pegasus shipyards were engulfed in violent riots and unruly, disorderly conduct. Almost as one, labor unions threw down and spat out their tools, refusing to build the skyliners that have been the backbone of our majestic state’s infrastructure in the wake of Crystal Empire forces having torn up railroads during the late Crystal War. They claimed to have no idea why they continued to build skyliners, they also claimed that they were tired of building ‘war machines’.

Sentiments like this cannot be had at times like this, especially in the wake of the brutal attacks made on the Conversion Bureaus on Earth.

On top of this, there was a group of Pegasi that tried to disrupt the peaceful environment of Cloudsdale by manner of spreading propaganda connected to the Ponies for Human Life, created by Celestia’s personally chosen ambassador to the United Kingdom, Lyra Heartstrings. Thankfully, the Royal Guards managed to resolve both instances with little issue present.

The suspected top organizer of the riot and suspected coordinator of the strike, a mare named Soundstorm, has been apprehended by the Element of Loyalty, Rainbow Dash, and her partner, the Wonderbolt recruit named Lumina “Lightning” Dust, after attempting to escape; both of them have assured us that the violent agitator will never do any harm to an innocent soul again.

This is a trying time constant readers.. and I am afraid. In the wake of the terrors of the Crystal War, it was wonderful to meet the humans, to meet another species… but it appears that we simply cannot work together. I am terrified that we may need these skyliners very soon.

So far there hasn’t been any comment over these events by Queen Celestia, please stay tuned for more updates as events progress.”

A news article written by Featherpen of The Canterlot Times, an early propaganda piece detailing two separate events that occurred shortly after the creation of the organization Ponies for Human Life. Soundstorm would never be heard from again after being violently apprehended by Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust.

“When Thorin struck [his harp,] the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from his hobbit-hole under The Hill.”

J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Hobbit”

Sound... it’s a rather peculiar thing - to the simple sort, it’s a simple occurrence and a simple thing… it only affects you if you really listen to it.

However, that isn’t true - there are different forms of sound and these different forms of sound can affect you regardless if you ‘hear’ it or not.

Everything has a sound, simply put; the beat your heart makes is a sound, the mere simplest acts are these things… although sometimes these sounds can tell how someone is.

In fact, for one such individual who is currently being focused to move… his name is Inkwell and if I could describe what sounds he would be made of, it would probably be sounds of fear, or anxiety - the reason why for this would have to be the fact that he was being forced to go to the worst pony-

The worst mare-

...

The worst staff member of this entire prison that isn’t an Element of Harmony. She is a horrible pony that practically embodies everything that Equestria has become ever since it has made contact with Earth. Inkwell will be lucky if what Rockwell practically forced him to drink earlier actually did protect him from the Head Warden that regularly beats the tar out of his cellmate.

His bloodshot eyes look to the mare trotting next to him, what was her name again? It sounded like Nightrise Shine… at least that’s what the guard said while he was forced away. She’s wearing the standard Royal Guard Uniform for a Unicorn, although her coat’s a faded orange and her mane a burgundy color… although she seems just as scared as he is of seeing Iustita.

What drew his interest is... well, it’s the fact that there was something familiar about her. Inkwell couldn’t put his hoof on it but there was something about her that reminded him of… something or somepony he read about in the newspaper once, but what was it?

‘Did she come from Fillydephia or something?’ Inkwell wonders, trotting in hoof with the others guards while slowly approaching Iustita’s office.

If one could guess, Iustita’s sounds would be… rather different than Inkwell’s; she would possess an orchestra that is best described as conflicted behind a thin veil of forced aggression.

She is like this for a reason, one that is very imperative mind you; she is crumbling, slowly but surely. Why is simple: she is suffering from a cutie mark fracture brought on by a very rare yet relatively unknown side-effect by the geis cast on all who took the oath.

It inverted her simply put. It did make her very fanatically devoted to Celestia although it has turned her into an opposite of what she usually is - the contrast is one that would surprise you if you knew.

But, right now she can’t wait to meet Inkwell - because she simply knows that he’s the reason why her… husband New Bloom acted so strange before he collapsed.

It’s not like he had nothing to do with this and it was all a coincidence, or Twilight Sparkle’s own experiments with him are responsible for this. And it's certainly not like New Bloom was cured by an old strain of potion and managed to avoid the various side effects common to recipients of that potion. After all, what she’s doing is right and Her Majesty is always right.

Always. Uncompromising. Even in the face of Armageddon.

The twin doors to the Warden’s office open slowly, Inkwell being escorted in by the familiar looking Royal Guardsmare and two others; Head Warden Iustita sits behind her desk and observes all four of them enter her office.

“Leave us be. I’ll handle the prisoner from here.”

The three guards all bow slightly before simply trotting off in sync, like cogs in a machine.

‘Oh Luna, what is she going to do first!?’ Inkwell mentally pales, his dread growing more by the second, waiting for the vicious mare to attack him and possibly mutilate him beyond recognition.

What insidious thing is she going to do first?!

“Inkwell, come sit; I have much to discuss with you.” Iustita says casually, inspecting her left forehoof in an absentminded manor. She looks to him, a clear patient expression present on her face.

“Come now, I won’t bite,” she beckons, her voice sweet sounding. Yet, much like Queen Celestia’s, it barely hides its sick intentions underneath. This mare was sick, sick in the mind. There was a rotting, cloying undertone to her voice. “This will be over quickly if all goes well.”

Without much to say in response, Inkwell slowly trots over to the chair across from her and took his seat; making sure that there wasn’t anything on the wooden chair that would actively harm him.

The Chronicler observes Iustita’s desk - there are the usual implements that one would expect on any official's desk really; a lamp, some pictures in frames, a name tab with her position and name on it, and a file with his name on it…

…

...Oh Luna she must be onto them!

The Head Warden’s horn glows as the folder levitates up and opens before her, showing Iustita its contents.

“Let’s see, Inkwell - born and raised in Fillydelphia; son of former reporter Purple Prose and Silk Canvas...” she reports, reading off the file, “joined the Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals as a reporter.” Iustita stops, fixing Inkwell with a seemingly soft look, “And outed as a traitor five days ago, right before Fancy Pants was revealed to be Trade Secret.” She gave a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Oh, why is it that all of our Goddess’s ponies have gone so wrong? Humanity must have told such horrific lies about her to do this to you all.”

Inkwell clenches his jaw. Best to stay quiet and not arouse her temper.

“Come now, is there nothing you want to say? It’s just the two of us.” The Head Warden soothes him, “If you cooperate, then this will go on quickly without incident or… pain. If you don’t, then I’m afraid you’re going to have to make things difficult… and I’m sure you don’t want that.”

A metal baton slowly rises up from beside Iustita’s chair, its handle glowing in her magical telekinetic hold as she places it on her desk. The intent is clear: either Inkwell could cooperate, or she would beat his face in.

“I swear, whatever you think it is, I don’t have anything to do with it,” Inkwell says sincerely, trying to tread carefully and avoid setting Iustita off. “Everything about me is in the file you’ve got. I have nothing to hide,” he says, hoping he sounds self-confident and reassuring enough.

Iustita fixes an inquiring gaze to him in response, one eyebrow raised. Her look clearly said it all - she didn’t buy any of that. “Inkwell, why must you lie to me? Honesty is one of our Elements after all, a concept that humanity can’t seem to grasp and have apparently tried to have you forget.” The Head Warden chastised, reminding Inkwell of Celestia for a moment, “You know something, and you need to tell me… or else I’ll have to ask again, and you really don’t want that.”

The tone she had used basically told Inkwell that if he didn’t start talking, her club would be meeting his face and he’d be hurting… a lot.

He knows there’s no winning this; he can either lie and get his face beaten in, or he could tell the truth and still get his face beaten in. But dang it, he’s not going to bend so easily.

“I promise you I am telling you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Warden,” Inkwell says to her as firmly as possible. However, he still can’t hide his apprehension. That club looks pretty heavy and solid, a well placed hit could very well knock a few teeth out.

Iustita frowns, her gaze still focused on him. “If you are telling the truth, then why are you so scared? Only the guilty are afraid before somepony important, and that’s only because they know that they are both wrong and lying to that somepony important.” The Head Warden stated plainly, as if she was giving a simple fact. “You’re still lying to my face; now tell me what that mud loving cellmate of yours has shared with you and all that you know - my patience is wearing thin.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know anything,” Inkwell says carefully, taking that last part into deep consideration, “All Rockwell has done is be rude, obnoxious and disrespectful - if he’d tell me something it’d probably be calling me a Pinhead, or some remark about the Newfoals. Outside of either of those, it’d probably be something about the prison wine.”

He’s lying. It’s so clear. He even mentioned the Newfoals. He is responsible for what happened to New Bloom. The voice, the JUST voice, told Iustita as her frustration of this… foal’s denial over being wrong.

She is the Head Warden of this facility, she is a faithful servant to her majesty - that makes whatever she does right.

If he tries to resist. Force him to admit. He is wrong. You are always right. Queen Celestia is right. Always serve her. She is your goddess.

“Inkwell, confess to what you’ve done and tell me what you know. Now.” Iustita said ordered coldly, glaring at the male unicorn before her, “If you do not, I will be forced to use my might to get the truth out of you.”

He… is… i-innocent… h-he hasn’t… done anything wrong… The other voice, the WRONG voice, tried to say - tried to lead her astray… tried to have her defy their goddess’s will.

Just like Balanced Scale until she was helped…

S-she was helped… wasn’t sh-

She… was ruined… she is… innocent…

“I’ve told you everything I DO know and there isn’t anything else I can tell you!" Inkwell yelled.

He lies. Humanity’s tainted him with dishonesty. He is against our Goddess. He deserves your justice to cleanse him.

N-no… h-he is…

Strike him. Now without pause.

She is without error, and without compromise - she is justified.

"I don't know what you want!" Inkwell yelled. "Rockwell and I don't even talk! If I got trampled in a prison riot, he wouldn't shed a tear! I! Don't! Know! ANYTHING!"

Too late.

One sound crack came as her club knocked the side of his head, his glasses flew off as he hit the floor - that would be a taste.

“You do… you’ve just been deluded Inkwell, by both humanity and yourself. You are guilty, and all you need do is admit to your sins.” Iustita replied coming out her chair and going over to him - her instrument held by her horn and ready to help him towards salvation. “Now, tell me what you know - or I will hit harder next time.”

Her next strike would be his foreleg - his left one.

"We're all deluded, aren't we?" Inkwell asked, spitting out a tooth. "You, me, the newfoals ..."

He admitted it. He wouldn’t mention the saved ones if he was innocent. He is taunting you.

Another sound crack would come, his left foreleg would now be blessed with pain.

"I don't even know what you want me to say!" Inkwell screeched, right foreleg screaming out in pain.

He is so coy, impudent little colt - of course he knows. He is stalling.

“Stop taunting me with these lies, Inkwell… you’re upsetting me further,” Iustita sneered, “Tell the truth.”

"What do you WANT?!" Inkwell yelled. "PHL cells? Resistance members?! The elk porn stash under my bed?! I! Don't! Know! AAANYTHING! I was just a stupid colt that was in over his head and published an article without-"

One crack came from his hind-leg for his tone, another came from the back of his neck for wasting time, a third one came from his back for saying something so undignified, and the forth from his side for restating both lies and what was already known.

"Here's some truth! I'M NOPONY! I'm not a partisan! I'm NOPONY! I wrote an article, and I was stupid enough to think anypony would want to listen!"

He is finally starting to speak. The dishonesty must be fading.

"Why won't you believe it?" Inkwell asked, tears in his eyes. "Nopony. I'm a writer barely out of college. I've never been outside the country or to anywhere with any Resistance members! Ask the PETN members, ask my family, I didn't do anything until I went to Hoofington!

How dare he ask us.

“I can’t tolerate such lies, Inkwell,” Iustita soothed, nudging his chin up with her instrument and looking into his eyes. “After that slander you’ve given to the PETN, it just so happened that Fancy Pants is outed as Trade Secret, and Fleur disappears without a trace… and yet Miss Berry Punch has told us of how she once met that strange mare in Canterlot days ago. I have every reason to suspect that mare she met is the Blue Spy, I have a feeling that your little ‘report’ was to prompt Fancy Pants into action and send Fleur away… we cannot trust anypony these days - only if Queen Celestia says so and -”

"He financed the PETN! He administered it! He was the last pony I'd expect to be PHL!" Inkwell yelled. "Do you even want the truth, OR JUST WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?!"

Two sound cracks, one for interrupting and one for yelling at her.

“What I want to hear is for you to admit to what we both know, I’m running out of places to hit and am growing tired of your insolence,” Iustita snarled coldly, placing her instrument onto Inkwell’s horn.

"I don't know what you mean!" Inkwell howled. "I don't know what you want me to say! I don't know! I DON’T KNOW! I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!"

Iustita scowled, “Fine then, tell me what you did to New Bloom?” She asked, looking down on the prisoner. “If you tell me what you’ve done… this all stops.”

"Who?" Inkwell asked. "Who's New Bloom?! I don't know who that is!"

He’s playing coy. Fancy Pants must have trained him.

“He is my husband,” Iustita said harshly, glaring at Inkwell and pressing her instrument against his side - the colt’s face would be scrunched up in pain… she must have broken a rib. Horseapples. “He is the Vice Warden of my facility, and he is amongst the first saved souls from that dirtball called Earth.”

"New Bloom!" Inkwell gasped. "Friend of mine interviewed him... First converted, oh buck, it hurts, it hurts..."

“It will continue to hurt if you don’t confess what we both know and what you’re guilty of.” Iustita said, pressing harder. “Now, tell me what you did to New Bloom - if you don’t…” Another firm press would finish her statement for her.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Inkwell shrieked, and Iustita took a step back from the volume. "I don't know what's happened to New Bloom! I don't know what's happening to him now! I never paid for an apple! I farted on a foal in public! I slept with an underaged mare! I read human comics that were contraband! I didn't pay for train tickets! I jaywalked! I wore a polyester shirt and bell-bottoms once! I tried to bring back shoulder pads! I’VE HAD A MULLET! I've done horrible things! IS THAT ENOUGH CONFESSING FOR YOU?!"

“ENOUGH!” Iustita yelled, silencing him. “Enough! I care not for your babbling or trivial things. All you’ve done is shown how far humanity’s corruption has festered in you and at how well Fancy Pants has, apparently, trained you to resist cleansing you of these lies… it appears I have no choice but to… to… ”

Look at him! He is hurt! He has done no wrong! He needs medical attention! Not death! Spare him! If you keep going on like this, he’ll choke on his own blood!

He is resisting. Use a spell to blow away the cure his taint.

‘No… no he will get both,’ Iustita thought, glaring at the broken mess before her.

Awww buck his back, buck his side, buck his legs… buck his head… just…

Buck everything.

“I believe we are done here Inkwell,” Iustita said suddenly, moving her club away setting it back onto her desk. “You have chosen poorly and not to let me help rid you of your guilt… this is unfortunate.” She trotted over to take a seat behind her desk, “I’m afraid there is only one place to send you now.”

She looked to the door, “Guards!”

Almost immediately, the twin doors opened and the Royal Guardsmare and two guards from earlier entered. The Guardsmare bowed slightly, “You’ve called Head Warden?”

“Ah yes, Nightrise Shine is it?” Iustita asked, as to which the mare nodded. She barked, “Take Inkwell here down to Medical; I’m afraid he wasn’t willing to let me help him rid himself of humanity’s corruption… a shame, if he was willing, I could have spoken with Feather Pen to arrange a job for him after he was healed.”

What a load...

“Yes ma’am!” the mare, Nightrise, responded before turning to Inkwell and…

...Was that look in her eye... concern?

Why would she have concern?

While Inkwell pondered this, her horn glowed as Inkwell was enveloped by a light blue magic before being lifted off the ground.

“Oh and Inkwell… Twilight Sparkle will be coming soon.” Iustita gave a nasty sneer, “I’m sure she’ll want to see you again.”

If Inkwell had any energy left, he would have probably made some remark on it - but right now, he was so drained. Any energy, any spark of life had been beaten out of him.

Even keeping his eyes open was too much effort. He couldn’t even think, pain… pain… pain…

It was too much pain…

Voices screaming… voice crying out in the abyss… unable to feel… unable to live… trapped in horrific forms… newfoals… the Elements… the Royal Guard…

The Princesses…

It was too much…

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Who…?

Somepony was shaking him.

“Hey, wake up now! It’s time to get up.”

Inkwell opened his eyes… there was a clear sky, a clear day sky with little to no clouds present. The sky was a bright, beautiful blue and the sun was… warm.

It wasn’t cold like it’s been for the past few years, but actually warm. Rejuvenating even.

“Thank goodness you’re up,” the voice said, relieved. “I was afraid that you weren’t gonna get out of my daisies.”

Daises? What…

‘Oh...’ Inkwell thought, seeing that he was laying in a patch of daisies right now. Best get out of that.

Looking over, Inkwell soon caught sight of an oak brown coated, chocolate maned earth pony stallion with saddle bags on that had a number of tools in them and a hat of some kind atop his head. He looked… sick, though. There was an odd tremble in one leg, he was clearly tired, and his eyes were a little jaundiced.

Yet he seemed to carry it almost as a badge of honor. Whatever he’d done, he’d clearly worked on it for awhile.

“Howdy there,” he greeted with a smile. “How’re you doing Inkwell?”

“Who are you?” Inkwell asked.

“A gardener, but I could be your friend if you want,” the odd, sickly stallion replied. “Name’s Land Patch, and you look like you’ve been through a hard time,” he pointed out, trotting over to a rake and opening up an empty flower bed. “Any chance you want to talk about it?”

“Am… am I dead?” Inkwell asked. “Did I die from what she…”

“Beating the tar out of you? Heck no,” Land Patch said, moving to pull a weed out. “You’re as alive as an apple tree… well, a good apple tree that is,” he muttered slightly, tossing some weeds he’d pulled out into a pile of garbage consisting of other weeds, branches and dead leaves. “You passed out from pain and the fact that you were tasting your own blood - not a good way to spend a morning, but beggars can’t be choosers these days. Trust me, I’ve seen ponies that’ve had worse mornings. Like Gestalt.”

“What was that thing, anyway?” Inkwell wondered.

“It’s not important,” Land Patch said. “What is important is that you hang in there, these next few days are gonna be the most rough ones in your life… like what Rockwell said,” he added, moving to trim a hedge with a pair of shears. “A lot of stuff is going to happen soon, and you’re too involved now to not get caught in the middle of it all. I wish you could’ve stayed comfortable, much as anypony can, but…” he sighed. “That isn’t likely, not these days unfortunately - it’s just blood, pain and some secret of the past coming to light and messing up the present and the future. Why can’t it just be simpler?” the stallion asked wistfully, stopping in his hedge trimming. “Just… why?”

“I wish it could be simpler too,” Inkwell nodded. “I… I miss how things used to be. When I wouldn’t get incarcerated for disagreeing. When Parliament wasn’t Celestia’s menagerie of flank-kissers.”

“Careful,” Land Patch called out, having resumed his hedge trimming. “If you have those rose colored glasses on too long you’ll go blind and become oblivious - trust me, it’s not a good thing. You’ll just see what you want over what’s there.” He then moved to a shrub, inspecting it.

“Well… wouldn’t that be better?” Inkwell asked

“As one large and certain earth pony might say, eenope,” the Earth pony retorted. “As harsh as the real world is, it’s the real world. If you go off living in a dream land you’ll never be truly able to survive in the world or live. You’ll suffocate like a fish in the wrong water. Or a sheltered college student.”

He plucked a piece of the shrub out before looking back to Inkwell. “Take my word for it - it’s without lies.”

“I… alright,” Inkwell sighed, too tired to do anything but just accept this. “How’d I get here?

“You passed out, remember? This ain’t no regular garden you know,” Land Patch said, going to a rosebush and tending to a… a violet rose. “This is Princess Luna’s Garden of Shadows. This is where she’d normally view every pony’s dreams.”

“So something of her still lives on?” Inkwell asked, looking on with wonder. This was a beautiful sight, he couldn’t lie about that.

“Well, yes and no,” Land Patch replied. “This garden’s a part of her magic. With her petrified and her magic taken, scattered into places even I can’t go - though there’s a weird concentration of it somewhere - Celestia would have let it get overgrown, turn it into a jungle. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“For all that you say about living in a dream land,” Inkwell noted, “it looks like it has its advantages here.”

“Well… I’m just a gardener that has been keeping this place nice and well for her for years,” Land Patch said humbly, “And it’s my duty to her to make sure it’s all nice and ready for her when she gets back to us.”

“Wait, Luna’s coming back?” Inkwell asked.

“Hmmm, maybe… hopefully sooner than later,” the old stallion said, smiling a tad, “It’d make my job easier, it gets hard maintaining it alone every single day. Might not come back quite the same, but I think we can agree it’s better than the alternative, don’t ya think?”

However, Inkwell noticed his smile became pained as blood began to come from his snout.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Inkwell asked. “I don’t remember much, but injuries appearing in dreams don’t sound…”

“Heh, I’ll worry about it when I have time,” Land Patch said, waving his hoof. “I’ll be fine for now… just, not as good as I’m used to these days when it comes to multitasking.” He took a deep breath, muttering something, “I need to… tell you something. It’s about that mare who took you out of the Warden’s office. She’s no guard; she’s actually on our side and is a friend… but don’t be putting all your cards on the table for her. Don’t let her know that you know, either. Can’t risk blowing her cover and all… it’s why I laced her helmet with spells to temper some troubling thoughts… uhhh...”

He started to look woozy, stumbling back a bit on his legs before sitting on his hindquarters, the blood still coming out of his nose. Inkwell ran up to him.

“Is there something I can do to help?” Inkwell asked, frantically trying to help. “Please, tell me, what do I do?! What am I supposed to do?”

“Survive…” Land Patch said, panting. “Survive… and stay with Soundstorm… she… she’ll be able to help you.” As he said this, his whole body was disappearing right before Inkwell’s eyes.

“Land Patch! Don’t go! How am I supposed to do any of that?!”

“Don’t you ever consider giving up, even if Celestia herself is pulling you to bits… never falter,” Land Patch’s voice echoed through the garden as a light wind came and carried off some flower petals with it.

All around Inkwell, the garden seemed to be aging before his eyes. Plants burst into bloom, growing as if the garden had been left unattended for centuries. Flowers blossomed and died, leaves fell, and something howled in the distance.

And then, it simply began to deteriorate before his eyes - trees becoming bare and dead, the grass yellow and patchy, the ground itself become more suited for a buffalo to roam on than for anything to be planted; it would be a wonder as to how somepony like that could keep it the way Inkwell saw moments ago.

Suddenly, Inkwell could… hear something: it was faint but it was there and coming from behind him. Turning his head, Inkwell saw a stone path that lead towards a door of iron - there was nothing else outside of it.

Looking back, Inkwell saw that the garden that was along with the ground itself that he stood on… simply vanished: all that supported him was a stone step that he knew wasn’t there seconds ago.

“Well, nowhere else to go but backwards I guess,” Inkwell said to no one in particular, before he began his ascent towards the metal door. “Oh, I’m going to regret this later.”

After what felt like hours of steps, climbing and suffering from aching hooves… the former reporter eventually reached the door and with his magic, Inkwell opened it… only to hear something else.

“Out of the darkness… into the sunlight, a whole wide world is waiting,” a familiar voice sung, “First I was so scared, now it feels so right. The child I was once is gone, now that I’m feeling so strong. I want to thank you for opening my eyes, helping me realise just why we are here. To chase down new horizons, eyes or prizes, forgetting our fear.”

It sounded… peaceful, yet Inkwell looked and looked to find just a white void - there was nothing, nopony or anything there… except for one.

The pegasus mare that Rockwell spoke to yesterday, Soundstorm… she was singing that?

“Hello?” Inkwell called out, his own voice echoing outwards into the void.

Soundstorm turned to see him, she had a neutral expression present - she didn’t even react.

“Soundstorm?” Inkwell asked, as he got closer… but again there wasn’t a reaction.

It wasn’t until Inkwell got close to her that he was able to see at how different she looked, her mane and tail were a plain grey, her coat a shade of faded bronze… was this how she saw herself? She looked… old. Faded. There were old scars crisscrossing her fur, and while Inkwell couldn’t tell what they’d come from, the meaning was clear. This mare had been through too much.

“Hello Chronicler,” Soundstorm greeted simply, “I take it Iustita has dealt a great deal of pain to you?”

“Didn’t she,” Inkwell agreed. “I feel like I got hit by a train and dragged on the cowcatcher a couple miles…”

The mare gave a sad smile. “I’m afraid it’s not going to get much easier for you… though you do know what is unseen in the Elements and in Celestia now, yes?” she asked, moving a wing over slightly.

“At this rate, I almost envy the newfoals for being so blissfully ignorant,” Inkwell said. “...Minus the whole, you know, being smiling zombies.”

“Actually, they’re screaming very loudly, in pain and desperation. It’s very sad and truly awful,” Soundstorm said sadly. “It’s always the same thing, which is truly terrible, no difference in melody.”

“Great. As if they weren’t horrifying enough,” Inkwell said with a shudder.

“No, what’s horrifying is the unseen within… not how they look without,” Soundstorm said in a rather cryptic tone. “I could show you if you wish what is unseen within… to be fair, after all - you’re my chronicler as well.”

“I’m willing to see!” Inkwell exclaimed. “I… I have to know what’s unseen within. Whatever that is. I have feeling I’m not going to like what I’m about to see, but I’m a reporter. Ignorance isn’t the best choice.”

“But are you a musician?” Soundstorm asked, before a sound came... a symphony of some sort. It sounded… odd to Inkwell, it had a substance to it yet felt…

“Follow the music after you wake up,” Soundstorm whispered, somehow amidst the tune. “Use it to find me… and I will show you what is unseen.”

“Get up,” a voice cut through, hitting Inkwell in the side and forcing him to wake up. The former reporter opened his eyes slowly, revealing to him a white ceiling and… he couldn’t move.

Straining his eyes, Inkwell found he was forced down into his bed by a series of restraints that were rather tight - his own horn was covered in some kind of gel that already solidified.

“Are you comfortable, Prisoner?” the voice asked, its tone sickeningly sweet sounding. Inkwell’s eyes searched to find a pale grey coated, stone maned unicorn stallion… giving a rather uncomfortable grin at him.

Was he a newfoal?

“I asked if you’re comfortable, it’s rude to be quiet,” he chirped before putting pressure on Inkwell’s side with his left hoof, causing the former reporter to give out a pained howl. “There now, was that so hard to say?”

“W-Who… who are you?” Inkwell panted, glaring at the newfoal who just grinned back at him.

“I’m Doctor Steady Scalpel, and I’m going to make sure you get better quickly with some special medicine,” the newfoal said in an eerie way, “But if you want to die, that’ll be fine… I like it when they go to sleep and don’t wake up. It makes it really fun to play with.”

This… this wasn’t like the brothels, or the guards, or that cult, or the newscolt he’d seen…

“And don’t worry, we’ll have all sorts of fun together while you’re here in medical before you have to go outside!” Scalpel said, his horn glowing as an injector came to him. It held a clear liquid in it, and the doctor chirped, “Let’s start off nice and easy… some liquid crystal should do the trick for you!”

Inkwell tried desperately to move or use his magic, but it was a wasted effort. First was the fact that his body was still sore from the beating Iustita gave him, and second was that this gel holding him in place somehow negated his magic. Not even a spark.

“Oh no, no, no,” Scalpel childed, putting a hoof back onto Inkwell’s side and causing the former reporter to grunt out of pain. “You need to wait for the privilege of getting out of bed, we’ve barely begun. So just relax,” he whispered into Inkwell’s ear, injecting the substance into his neck.

Inkwell felt numb, his eyes forced wide open and his whole body couldn't’ move - his own mouth even refused to work with him.

“Now then, time for the fun!” Scalpel said, reaching for another tool while Inkwell helplessly watched.

As Soundstorm sat still within her confined cell, she could hear Inkwell’s cries from here.

“No! Get away!”

It was like the others sent here… especially the ones that were under his ‘care’.

For he was not alike everypony else, he wasn’t even akin to his newfoal brethren. His orchestra was always playing the same dull yet menacing tune no matter what.

“Let me go!”

There wasn’t any cry coming from him specifically.

There weren’t any screams that he would make…

“Please! Don’t kill me!”

If the Newfoals were given freedom, their souls no longer in chains… he would be the only one sad because he wasn’t like that anymore.

He’s actually happy that he’s like this, that he can feel something for once outside of what he does…

“Ahhhhhhh!”

And she knows this, because she’s his favorite.

“Oh we will have sooooo much fun one day Soundstorm, our play date will be wonderfully great… I’ll make sure that you’ll always be around for us to play together. Forever.”

And he would tell her that, constantly…

Like a… what would the humans call it? A broken record?

Regardless, she would need to recover him soon and make sure their chronicler stays alive…

Or there may be forever ruin for them all.

First Print - Welcome to the Gulag

Author's Note

Hello everyone, this is TheIdiot here to basically state that I've decided to become a Hypocrite and write/post a story on my account despite me saying that I wouldn't.

Aren't I crazy?

Anyway, this story was originally thought up to be an excuse for a one off character to basically have more after his unfortunate ending just when he realizes the all important truth.

That’s right! We’re doing a story centered on… the newfoal! Focus Ray!

*unintelligible dialogue*

What? What do you mean that he’s dead? I thought that Trixie took him in alive and-

*more unintelligible dialogue*

Blue Spy killed him?! Then what am I supposed to-

*even more unintelligible dialogue*

Inkwell? That one off character? He’s going to be the focus here? Alright…. if you say so, this Author’s Note has gone on long enough as it is.

EDIT: Apparently I had to kill an authors note in order to get this moderated... weird.

First Print - Welcome to the Gulag

TCB - Other Side of the Spectrum: Shades of the Unsung

First Print - Welcome to the Gulag

Authors:

TheIdiot - Hey that’s me!

Doctor Fluffy - The Embodiment of Pop Culture. And body horror. And also guns.

Kizuna Tallis - The Goddess of Continuity

Editors:

Kizuna Tallis - She helped finish writing out the scripting for the first arc and also touched upon the writings so she gets two credits.

Rush - Grammar fixes and the like

RedSkin - The Emperor God of all

" Special Double Sized Print! A Shocking Revelation! Fancy Pants is Trade Secret!

Fancy Pants, Canterlot Elite, was revealed to be a Betrayer! His wife, and Minister of New Foal Affairs Fleur De Lis, is currently missing, her fate unknown! This paper can only guess what her unfortunate fate may be, if the suicide explosion that Fancy committed had killed her as well, the poor mare getting caught in the explosion. It is almost certain that she’s nothing but ashes.

The fiery conflagration made sure none of the house was left, the area around it was scorched and drained of all magic… currently its very difficult to tell if there had ever been a house there at all, this reporter has to offer.

This shocking revelation stunned/shocked many ponies; commoners, elites, members of the Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals, yet none more so than our Benevolent Queen. The PETN has had a turbulent last two weeks, with a reporter named Inkwell revealing himself as a Betrayer, his work leaked to lower-class ponies, inciting a riot. However, for their leader to be killed, and one of their primary sources revealed to be sleeping with the enemy?! It is near inconceivable.

'Of all ponies, it pains me to have learned that Fancy Pants was a Betrayer. Trade Secret was possibly the most notorious of all and Fancy Pants was… he was a fop. He was a dandy. I would have never guessed he had such horrific actions with him,' Our Benevolent Queen said with sorrow, 'Somehow the humans corrupted him and had him kill so many saved souls and noble guards. He even tried to kill me with that explosion of his… as for Fleur I know she is still alive somewhere and as the Minister of Newfoal Affairs, she must return.'

Despite this unfortunate discovery, victory is within sight now that the Beneficence has completed construction. It will only be a matter of time now until the apes’ remaining lands will be purified, and with the Queen leading the battle, nothing will stop us."

Written by Flower Pepper of the Canterlot Times

Our tale begins proper within the Solar Empire, more specifically within a work camp that has most of its prisoners forced to mine for crystals and other raw materials north to the Crystal Kingdom, and we focus on one specific inmate; he is a young unicorn stallion and a former reporter named Inkwell. You may be asking, if you aren’t aware of what occurred earlier, why is he here? The answer is simple; in the end, he committed the greatest sin imaginable in this nightmare world that only vaguely resembles Equestria.

He disagreed with Queen Celestia. He even interrupted her at one point.

He voiced his discomfort with the newfoals and all the horrible things going on in Hoofington. Angered with his audacity, she gave him a choice. He decided he’d rather be worked like a slave than become a newfoal with a cutie mark. As hard as the prison camp was, at least he was free of mind though, unlike those poor saps that went to the "mind healers" instead. He had been in this Luna-forsaken hole for the past four days and had heard rumors of Fancy Pants’ demise from some passing remarks that certain prison personnel gave.

"... He was one of them all along," Inkwell whispered sadly. "But why?! Why didn’t he-"

The answer came in a flash. Inkwell was but a young interloper who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, while Fancy could not risk blowing his cover.
It was all such a horrible thing, that it made Inkwell shudder when it occurred to him: What happened to Fleur?

From what he’d seen in the discarded newspaper that his cellmate had lifted from a guard’s trash bin, Fleur… seemed to have been caught in the explosion. It had been such a fiery conflagration that the area around the house and been scorched down to the roots of the grass. He’d seen that newspaper, too… what had Fancy done?

Regardless, Queen Celestia maintained Fleur was alive, though newspapers doubted it. All the reason that Queen Celestia could cite for her seeming paranoia (not that paranoia was anything new for her) was that 'Betrayers are like weeds and rats - you are never truly rid of them.' However, given how things were after he had 'met' her and the Elements… something in the back of Inkwell’s mind told him that it was better that she shouldn’t come back and stay far away from them.

“Hey, pinhead; you gonna stand around all day or are you gonna move?” a grizzled voice asked. Inkwell turned to see another prisoner waiting to get inside the cell. He was an Earth Pony that had rather muted tan coloring, a charcoal black mane that was rather short and a cutie mark of a pickaxe with odd runes. His name was Rockwell, Inkwell’s cellmate.

Inkwell sighed. His cellmate, Rockwell (who had certainly been placed in the same cell by a guard that seemed to think he was just the funniest comedian in all of Equestria) was not exactly the dream roommate. He snored loudly. He once called Inkwell a filly. He treated him like a stupid child.

He was the kind of roommate (or in this case cellmate) that a particularly unforgiving sort would regret not having stabbed, or beaten to a bloody pulp with a chair. Inkwell considered himself decently forgiving, but Rockwell… was not doing much to help him there.

The reason why Rockwell was there… well it would usually depend on who you’d ask. One Pegasus said it was because he “robbed the First National Hoofington Bank with nothing but a quill.” Or that, according to another unicorn, he “murdered a Royal Guard using only his left hoof”. Or that he supposedly “helped smuggle Princesses Luna and Cadance out of Equestria” if you believed that strange Earth pony with the lazy eye.

Inkwell, however, suspected him to have been put in there for a drunken bender, given his consumption of the gulag’s “home-brew”. It must have given him an iron throat, as the stuff went down like flaming sandpaper. Though his actions during said bender raised even more questions.

Sometimes, when he was asleep, he’d mutter things; most of the time it’d be things about the Newfoals. They’d be rather… graphic things. Like taking one into a barn and tying it to a metal table before cutting it up like a pie or pastry. Other times though… he’d mention a filly, he never did say her name though and Rockwell didn't look like the responsible parenting type in Inkwell’s eyes.

One thing for certain was that Inkwell wondered why everypony held so much respect for this old grizzled stallion. Were some of the things that were said about him true? If that was the case, then which ones?

“Move it, ya prancy pinhead,” he muttered, pushing Inkwell to the side, onto the cold, hard concrete floor as he went to his cot; seeking to get some rest from his hard day’s work.

Rockwell could not, by any means, be described as ‘friendly’. Only by somepony with a lot of cider or wine could he ever be described as having anything but a passing resemblance to ‘approachable’. If you weren’t, like Inkwell is, you’d be seen as just a load that is wasting time and be called a ‘pinhead’, a racist slur against unicorns due to their horns and magic. For Inkwell, he just didn’t get why he deserved so much hatred for nothing he did to the grumpy stallion.

Or maybe it’s what he represented. For a lot of ponies, unicorns were the ‘face’ of the invasion of Earth. An invasion which, as Inkwell knows now, has brought little more than suffering and death to Equestria and Earth. Ever since he got here Inkwell had been having trouble trying to survive; the labor was difficult to do for the unathletic young reporter, the ‘meals’ they were given were nothing but slop, and the guards had been less than ideal.

Then again, nopony in here was exactly beloved by the Empire. This wasn't so much a place for criminals as it was a dumping ground for… undesirables. Human sympathizers, protesters, natural-born ponies on strike (assuming the newfoals that made up the bulk of Equestria’s menial war production hadn’t beaten them up for not embracing their full productive potential) conscientious objectors, activists who still thought Equestria was the same as it was before the Crystal War, ponies who asked the wrong questions at the wrong time (like him), or probably just the victims of some constable or guardspony’s bad mood.

What made things worse was that there were times when Inkwell was kept up at night, hearing horrific screams echoing from the walls and Luna knows where; whatever the source of it was made him shudder at the thought… it was better left unknown and not thought upon. Besides, given at how the newfoals were like it; trying to piece together something he only heard it screaming could be anything… it could even be worse than what he saw in Hoofington.

Judging by the fact that Twilight Sparkle herself frequented this prison, he didn’t doubt that. She did create the potion if the rumors were true, and out of all the Elements of Harmony, she was the closest to Celestia. Though he’d heard whispers about how she now referred to herself as Celestia’s faithful servant, not student like she used to. Whatever she was doing must have been very horrific.

Inkwell woke up to see Rockwell asleep, somehow able to sleep like a hibernating Ursa Major through just about anything. Though Inkwell had learned that he should never wake up his cellmate, not for anything; no matter what it was. He probably wouldn't have to worry, as Rockwell was hard to wake up.

If Inkwell somehow succeeded, though, Rockwell would be even more irritable than usual that way, and that was saying a lot. Inkwell hadn't been that wrong, but he learned one thing here: You did not screw with Rockwell. He very much valued his sleep. Not only that, but it was just impolite to wake someone like that. He’d probably deserve a right hook to the jaw if that happened.

And yet, that was something the guards hadn't seemed to pick up; it didn't matter who you were, they’d wake you up if you were sleeping when you weren't supposed to and Inkwell once watched as a group came to their cell just to drench Rockwell with cold water to tell him that he was a “meanie pants”… which admittedly was annoying to hear from a newfoal. Newfoal insults were just stupid, not least because ponies rarely wore pants, but because they had all the force behind them as a newborn foal’s hind legs… and the general intelligence of the mentally slow.

Another time he watched Rockwell come in, but looked like he gotten beaten something hard though. According to him, the warden liked to have 'appointments' with 'special' ponies; which admittedly made Inkwell hope that it never happened to him or that he’d get one.

Nopony wanted to ask what these appointments entailed. But if it was worse than all the other stuff that went on in this prison, then it had to be pretty bad.

Though admittedly, it was probably only a matter of time. The warden had… how to put this… what she called a ‘soft spot’ for Betrayers. Which meant she’d be even harsher on them.

Sighing, Inkwell went to his cot to get some shut eye himself… though it didn't help that Rockwell started to snore a bit loudly.

Inkwell couldn't move. His hooves were glued to the spot, and his bedsheets seemed melded to him.

It was so comfortable. All he had to do was lie down and refuse to resist gravity, just lie down and relax…

And yet something didn't feel right. In bunk beds nearby, stacked up by fours, there were even more ponies, all sleeping peacefully, unnaturally still.

Something was odd about the beds, however. Something was… something was wrong here. He could barely turn his head, and there was an odd cracking whenever he moved his jaw.

He gingerly rubbed it, finding an odd, hard lump. Taking a look at the pony in the bed next to him, a crystal pony-why would they be here? He stopped, jaw dropping. He could see his reflection in that crystal pony.

Was Inkwell a crystal pony as well? For there appeared to be a gemstone growing from that side of his jaw, straight up through bone.

'Shouldn't that hurt?’ he asked himself, his thoughts fuzzy.

Then he realized he couldn't breathe. He couldn't move his neck back, or feel his legs.

Crystals were creeping up his body, poking out through the skin. And he wasn't breathing. These weren't beds, he realized. They were storage of some kind. And he could see crystal creeping up his body as he stared into the immobile crystal pony. He looked to be crystal himself.

But it wasn't organic like the crystal pony’s. It was hard and angular, smoothing across his barrel and forcing his limbs to the side, into a shape like a tree-

No.

A totem-prole.

Oh, how he wished he could scream, as the crystal crept up his body, into his open mouth and his eyes and ears-

He could hear everything. Hundreds of ponies talking, and his vision was increased tenfold.

And yet he was immobile. He could feel himself slipping further and further away, into darkness-

“AAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEEEEERGK!”

Inkwell gasped, feeling his body. Oh, thank Luna, back to normal! Yes! He still had legs!

But… what was that scream? Inkwell wondered, rolling of bed, trotting to find that the cell door now led into the Crystal Empire. The bars on the side still showed a view of the outside, and yet… it was like there was a slice in space, a hole that poked into the Crystal Empire.

’What is this?’ He wondered, walking through, looking around to see the area was abandoned… it was practically a ghost town.

“Help!” A voice cried out, Inkwell turned to see a Crystal Pony, this one a unicorn filly, running towards him for some reason; panic and fear on her face.

“What happened?” Inkwell asked, seeking to help out and hopefully get answers.

"A… a monster! A monster is taking everypony away! I..." She broke down in tears, "It took away my parents…"

"Slow down, what kind of monster?"

"It… it looks like a pony! Said this… he said it was his right! It was his orders from his goddess!" she sobbed.

That threw Inkwell for a loop, a stallion was abducting Crystal Ponies? Why-

Before he could react a fireball nearly hit him in the face, one he only barely managed to dodge. He then saw a troop of Royal Guards approaching; this couldn't be good, given the fact that he’s viewed as a Betrayer now.

"Hand over the filly, Citizen!" the guard demanded, though he sounded hollow and emotionless, "She is necessary to the continued survival of Equestria."

"WHY?!" Inkwell yelled. "You've already destroyed half the city, why could you possibly-?" he then gulped. 'Me and my big mouth.'

"Hand over the filly," the guard demanded once again, still having that solemn emotionless expression in his voice and on his features. As if he didn't have any emotions to himself.

"Don’t let them take me!" The filly begged to Inkwell, hiding behind him.

The guard glared at the two before ordering, "Take her by force now, no holding back or warning shots." His dull voice said, the other guards nodding before starting to approach the two. Magic was already building up in a unicorn while the two Pegasi started to get off the ground.

'Ah, Tartarus. I’m right bucked, but I can’t just leave her,’ Inkwell internally sighed, trying to figure out how to solve the problem he’d gotten himself into.

He wasn't a fighter. No matter what prison labor had done to him, he couldn't take them on in a straight fight. So he had to use what advantages were on hoof.

So he grabbed the filly with his telekinesis, placing her on his back, and ran.

'How do I get myself into these things?!' Inkwell moaned internally. 'Right. Bucking inquisitive nature… what was it that Granddad said about it?'

"Now, grandson, you love to ask questions! That’ll get you far in life!"

TOTAL MANURE!

Almost immediately the two Pegasi guards instantly were on his tail, the first one clearly the better flier because it was able to dive bomb him without trouble… and tackle him to the ground; apparently making him taste dirt.

The second one caught the filly, who screamed and struggled to get out of his grip. "Help!" she screamed, hitting the other Pegasus guard in the face with her hooves which did jack-all. Unfortunately.

"Come on…" Inkwell whispered. "What to do, what to do-"

Then it hit him. A lot of unicorns had ignored the various spells foals would use in pranks; trampoline spells, popping spells like firecrackers, something like that. He just had to use something they wouldn’t expect.

He leaped for the filly, shielding her eyes with his barrel, and closed his own eyes, visualizing a bright light, imagining the feeling of watery, dry eyes, and-

“I CAN’T SEEEEEEE!” One guard shrieked.

“ARRRRRGGGGHHH!” The one guard holding the filly screamed, needing to release her to cover his eyes. She immediately jumped to Inkwell’s side and the two started to run once more… however, they were soon stopped due to a wall of fire that erupted in front of them.

Inkwell turned to see the single Unicorn Guard start to approach, his horn glowing with a fiery spell.

“You will burn if you continue to resist,” he droned, eyes glazed, approaching ever so slowly.

Well, now he had to deal with a unicorn Royal Guard… great. This was just not his day. He didn’t remember the last time it actually had been his day.

The Unicorn then attacked, throwing a burning inferno of a fireball that Inkwell just barely dodged. However, the left side of his hind leg got slightly burnt by the flame’s intense heat; this kind of magic must mean that this guard was an especially magically powerful spellcaster, which made things even more difficult.

What should he-

Suddenly Inkwell felt as if he had stepped into a sauna, the air around him felt thick and heavy like a summer’s day, causing him to start dripping sweat. However, it kept getting more and more intense and then…

And then it all clicked; he’d just gotten hit by some kind of inferno spell by the Guard and it’s burning him to death. He could feel his coat getting smoldered and the scent of his mane getting charred captured his attention, all before the worst of pains set in.

Inkwell then started to scream, by some twist he could still see but didn’t have the energy to keep standing and collapsed. The filly cried out and rushed to his side, pleading desperately for him to get up… however he was just burnt out, pretty much literally due to that spell.

All he could do was watch as the Unicorn’s telekinesis forced the filly away from his body and got suspended in the air, she was being sent towards… towards a large cart marked like one of the wartime ambulances he remembered from parades during the Crystal War. But something was wrong with it. It didn’t smell like there were wounded in there, it didn’t smell like blood… and there was something else to it.

He instinctively knew that was the same kind of wagon that had brought him to Canterlot Castle.

Inkwell tried to force his body to move, to say something to… to do anything possible until-

He blacked out from the pain, the last thing he saw being the filly getting forced inside, screaming and crying for help. He could also hear a stallion screaming inside as well, begging for somepony named Brighthoof…

Inkwell awoke from yet another nightmare, he’d been getting them ever since he got here. Though this one was different, it was layered; he had been in the middle of one nightmare only to ‘awaken’ and find himself in another. However, he soon realises that his cellmate was unusually quiet.

Checking the other cot, the young unicorn saw that Rockwell wasn’t there, and that the cell door was wide open. He spotted the Earth Pony walking down the hallway ever so slightly.

"What in Ce-" Inkwell stopped himself. It was mostly force of habit, but still... No. Absolutely no, no, NO. He wasn’t swearing by her anymore.

"What in Luna’s name?"

It would have been stupid to follow Rockwell. It would be a very dumb move. It would be a move that would make him stare at a book and yell at the character who would do it "YOU FOOL!"

...and yet, if they didn’t do that, there would be no story.

So, getting out of his cot quietly as he could be, Inkwell followed Rockwell down the hallway.

Rockwell went out quietly and slowly to the court yard, there were no Guards watching them and Inkwell just peered out from a corner to watch as Rockwell stands before a column of pure stone.

What was he going to do?

Inkwell watched as Rockwell gained a determined look on his face and concentrated, just what was he-

Suddenly, a circle of some kind appeared around the old stallion; the column of pure stone shook a bit before starting to rise up as a ball of magicks appeared in his left hoof.

"What’s going on here?" Inkwell asked himself in the quietest of whispers.

Well. Not much left for him to do. If he didn’t go through, the guards would find him. And do… things to him.

However, the column of pure stone fell to the ground; Inkwell watched as the ball of magicks faded and his cellmate started to cough up something… vile from his throat. Whatever it was… Inkwell could feel it from here. It reeked of a dark magic of some kind… twisted, and evil and disgusting.

Oddly enough though, Inkwell felt that it reminded him of… something about it looked like the potion, but only in the same way that water looked like oil. This looked like it’d choke your insides and suffocate you if you drank it.

There had also been strange experiments in this prison. According to the Queen, ponies that disobeyed her had fallen away from her grace, and thus, were not worthy of being ponies. So by that logic, he supposed that some of the terrible experiments that ponies such as Twilight Sparkle would conduct were thus perfectly legal… didn't help that warden’s selection process every two days would decide who goes to medical and who stays in hard labor; and even then those that could come back to Hard Labor would be bleeding out their ears and eyes, a horrific sight none the less.

Maybe he should turn back and go into his cell, because if Rockwell could do magic like a unicorn… then maybe he could kill a stallion with one hoof. The reason why for this fear was because Inkwell… well, maybe he wasn't the strongest-minded stallion around, and maybe he wasn't. It took guts to talk to Queen Celestia the way he had, and yet he’d been quivering in fear when somepony so much as looked at him funny.

Inkwell turned and slowly walked back to his cell. If Rockwell saw him, he’d probably get whacked for doing something stupid; however if it was a guard… no, he wasn't going to think about it. He just needed to get back to this cot and not get spotted. Rockwell could handle himself; and besides, why should he care? Rockwell was a horrible cellmate.

But there were still so many questions rolling through his head… things were going on in this prison behind the scenes; and unlike Hoofington, he would get drawn into his questions this time instead of seeking the answers out. Something was going on… and by Luna he was terrified what they might be.

And to be honest with himself, Inkwell wasn't sure he really wanted to know.