Bluer Skies
Alban Solstice
Another dreamless night. Hazel rubbed her eyes in order to drive out the sleep that threatened to drag her back in bed after waking. Her nights used to be filled with vivid dreams, but her mind now lay dormant while her body rested.
Perhaps it was an effect of trauma, or paranoia. Then again, maybe she just couldn't remember her dreams, and it wasn't anything to worry about.
She tossed her bedsheets aside. “It's not important,” she muttered. A lack of dreams wasn't something that needed a psychiatrist's attention.
The first few rays of light struggled through the bedroom window, and Hazel caught her reflection in her mirror. She almost giggled at what she saw. Her dark brown mane was unkempt and sticking in all directions, instead of laying smooth and slick down her neck like usual. She must've slept on it funny. Her wings, which were abnormally large for a Pegasus Hazel’s age, gleamed in the morning light. They, along with the rest of her coat, bore the light shades of brown that gave Hazel her name. She appeared almost golden in the sun’s yellow glow.
“Maybe it's better that I don't dream,” she decided. Considering recent events, Hazel felt that any dreams she had would've quickly turned to nightmares.
Less than a month ago, Hazel failed her flight test. She was traumatized when she realized she would be exiled, off to some unknown land where all the failures were sent. At least, that's what she thought. The reality was worse than anything she could have imagined.
The reality was revealed to Hazel when the strange gas trickled into the room where the failures were led. One by one, they went unconscious, knocked out by the toxic fumes. She had watched, unable to help as an array of hooks drew a colt painfully into the maw of a hellish machine, his screams becoming distorted as he was ground into a horribly beautiful pool of spectra. She saw the first hand the indifference of the factory workers, who gave no sympathy for the dead foal. Not one of them had even flinched at the massacre.
Hazel shook her head in a feeble attempt to erase the memories from her mind.
Everything is fixed now, she thought. The place was exposed and the factory was shut down. That's it. Happy ending. She knew that was a lie. Ponies had died, and no amount of magic could bring back the dead.
Deciding she was up for the day, Hazel trotted to the kitchen, checking on her sister Chroma before getting something to eat. Her little sibling was still asleep. The silver filly lay sideways across the bed, awkwardly tangled by her sheets.
Hazel smiled. Chroma had always possessed the uncanny talent to make her laugh, now even while she slept. Hazel moved on to the kitchen, once again facing the daily dilemma of deciding what to eat for breakfast.
A spoon and bowl clattered together as Hazel set the two items on the table. Her final choice had been a bowl of plain oatmeal. Truly a Caffè macchiato quality breakfast… Hazel tended to complain frequently, although she did so more for comic relief than actual disapproval.
She flicked on the mini television she had purchased the week before. The little device was about a foot across, perfect for the dining table in Hazel's home. The TV was still on the news station; Hazel had been watching the channel last evening. She let out a small groan as she saw what the morning story was.
I honestly don't know why I still watch the news, she frowned. It's a month later and they're still talking about the flocking factory! Hazel felt she couldn't go on if everyone kept mentioning the upper floor of the Cloudsdale Weather Corporation.
"Frankly, I wish everyone would forget about it completely!" There were occasional exceptions regarding Hazel's empty complaints.
"Forget about what?" Hazel turned to see Chroma standing in the hallway. Her eyes were bright and cheery, aside from the normal glazed look of lingering sleepiness. She began stretching her wings, the silvery feathers almost reflecting the light in the room.
"Uh, nothing. Just some wishful thinking." Hazel had done her best to shield Chroma from the horrors of the Rainbow Factory. As much as it hurt to tell her sister all these half-truths and lies, she couldn't trouble Chroma with the stories of the Pegasus Device. She had another flashback to the colt who had perished in the machine. No, Hazel couldn't let that happen. Chroma had barely started flight school, for buck's sakes! She was too young to cope with the stories.
Hazel turned back to the television. Her disgust at the attention received by the Factory was only heightened as she saw Dr. Atmosphere's face on screen. The blood red stallion was being interviewed for perhaps the third time this week. He stood in front of the Factory, which had visible signs of damage, telltale clues of last month’s incident.
After Hide first came forward and exposed the truth of the CWC, Cloudsdale started treating him like a hero, as if he single-hoofedly brought down the Rainbow Factory. As if! He was there with Rainbow Dash. He watched as we were sent to our death! And did he care? No!
“What’s wrong?”. Chroma looked up at her sister. “You look angry.”
“Well, I guess I am a little upset.”
“About what?”
“I just don’t like how they praise this Atmosphere guy.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s just a bad person, Chroma,”
“Why? What did he do?”
Hazel leaned closer to her sister, speaking quietly. “Bad people do bad things, Chroma. That’s all you need to know.”
“But I want to know more! You’re not answering my question!”
“In that case, you’d better get ready. Flight school starts in thirty minutes, and mom and dad won’t be too happy if you’re late for class again. You can learn more things from your instructor.”
“School never teaches me what I want to learn, though,” Chroma mumbled, begrudgingly walking towards her room.
“They’ll teach you what you need to know. You should be thankful our family can afford to send you to an expensive school like Flight Academy.” Hazel was trying to move the subject as far away from the Factory as possible. It was working for now, but sooner or later, Chroma would become more persistent, demanding complete explanations and answers. Hazel didn’t know how much longer she could keep her sister sheltered from the truth, only that it couldn’t be forever.
“Hazel?” a cry sounded from Chroma’s room.
Oh, no… “What is it, Chroma?”
“Where is my Academy uniform?”
Hazel let out a sigh of exasperation. “I told you last night that I put it in the wash, and that it would be there in the morning."
"Oh, right. Thanks."
As Chroma made her way downstairs, Hazel turned back to the television. Dr. Atmosphere was still there. She nearly gagged as the interviewer complimented him, saying how the reform of the Rainbow Factory was "the greatest thing to happen to Cloudsdale”.
"Most definitely," Hide replied. "Now that the Pegasus Devices are decommissioned, we are able to extract spectra harmlessly."
"Could you elaborate on these new methods, Doctor?"
Hide was clearly agitated, having gone through the same set of questions for almost a month, but he calmly proceeded to answer again. This particular reporter bore the emblem Hide recognized as the Seal of Canterlot. The factory had been drawing in reporters from all over Equestria, which only meant more of Hide’s time would be wasted answering stupid questions.
"Certainly. New advancements have made it possible to run the new Factory like a blood drive, using a safe and painless process to extract spectra from blood samples. It is no more dangerous than donating platelets to Cloudsdale's hospital." Hide turned to one of many cameras that had been broadcasting the interview.
"Anyone can become a spectra donor, helping to make brighter rainbows without the senseless killing that has been going on for millennia."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Now if you'll excuse me, I am needed back in the Factory. I will see you all tomorrow."
Hide turned to walk back to his place of work. The press was getting more and more intrusive, much to the doctor's dismay. He expected as much from them at first, but he never could have imagined they would still be at it a month later. Worse still, they were distracting Hide from his job.
Not to mention the fact that I'm the only manager now, Atmosphere gritted his teeth as he entered the factory.
Soon after the Incident, Rainbow Dash had fled Cloudsdale. Nopony was sure as to why; Dash was still permitted to work for the Corporation. Hide found it rather intriguing. Perhaps she refused to work because the renovations had destroyed the factory she knew and loved. Regardless, Dash's departure meant twice as much work for Hide, something he did not enjoy.
At least I’m able to better the Factory without the mad mare making death threats on me every other day...
"Sir, I have a problem," a weather flight lieutenant approached Hide from behind, breaking his train of thought.
“Hide, please,” Atmosphere wasn't one for titles.
"Ponies are getting upset with Cloudsdale, and it’s causing trouble for the patrols. On every run, my squadron is being harassed by mobs. Equestria won’t take any more of this weather." The flight lieutenant was referring to the recent nasty weather spell that arose after the Incident
In order to finish repairs in a reasonable timeframe, the CWC had to devote more time to repairs and less to weather control. The result was a somewhat less-than-pleasant forecast for the next three months.
Hide turned his piercing gaze on the flight lieutenant. "I know damn well there are problems with the facility, Celtus, so you can stop wasting my time by stating the most obvious problems with my Factory." Celtus shrunk back, startled at Hide's outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Atmosphere, I meant no offense,"
"Hide. Just call me Hide. Now, next time you want to give a report,” he adjusted his lab coat before continuing. “Make sure it’s something worth my time. Otherwise you may inform the department supervisors.”
The doctor turned away from the flight lieutenant, traversing a catwalk that ended at an elevator shaft on the far wall. The catwalk provided a grand view of the first floor. At the moment, every part of the lower department was being used to create snowflakes - at least, every part that wasn’t rendered defective due to damages.
Celtus is right. As much as Atmosphere hated to admit it, the Weather Corporation was in ruin. It would be at least two months before repairs were finished, and it would take more time afterwards to get the climate back to normal. There was no guarantee that the cooperation would be ready for winter in a few months. Hide continued thinking as the elevator carried him up the shaft.
Cloudsdale was in danger; he didn’t need a report to know that. He had seen the harassment of the local weather patrols from the view from the factory. He recalled one event that ended the death of a weather corporal named April.
Cloudsdale was stationed near Canterlot, and a patrol was sent to report on the condition of the nearby area. April was less than a hundred yards from the city, making her way to a rendezvous point just before she was struck by combat magic. A beam fired by someone within Canterlot connected with April’s wing, breaking it mid-flight. She plummeted towards the earth, hundreds of feet below.
Hide wasn’t sure why that particular event was so prominent in his mind. The authorities arrived soon after the murder took place. The killer was captured and imprisoned, but that didn’t solve the problem. Patrol members all over Equestria were meeting similar fates. It was unthinkable, but Hide was doing his best to please the masses and send fair weather across the land once again.
The elevator made a soft “ding” as the doors opened. Hide was greeted with the sight of the old upper factory, complete with a Pegasus Device at the far right wall. Funny, Hide mused, that I’m trying so hard to save lives, when not two months ago, it was my job to end them. Hide embraced the image of the worn-down machine, and the memories that came with it.
A quizzical look danced across the doctor’s face as a new logic set in. A realization was made clear in Atmosphere’s mind, laid out in a series of questions he asked himself.
Who were the ones killed in the device?
Failures.
What makes them failures?
They failed their flight tests.
Why does that matter?
Because they would taint the reputation of Cloudsdale.
Killing the failures stops them from tainting the reputation, then?
Correct.
But now the failures are left alive, free to go where they please.
True…
They will go on to ruin the pride of Cloudsdale.
…
You’ve broken the system, Hide.
Doctor Atmosphere halted his thoughts. There was someone else in his head. She wasn’t there, but he knew that voice all too well.
I always knew there was something missing in you, Hide. You had too much sympathy for the resources. Now Cloudsdale may be praising you for it, but you won’t have to worry about attention from the press much longer. We ensured the safety of Cloudsdale by eliminating those failures, but your little “blood drive” has doomed the Pegasi race. You’ve broken the system, Hide.
Atmosphere shook his head violently, shaking away Dash’s maniacal laughter that erupted in his brain. Either Rainbow had created some telepathic link with Hide, or insanity was taking its toll. Regardless, she was gone now, both from the Factory and Hide’s mind.
After he regained his composure, Hide considered Dash’s warning. Were the failures really doing any harm? He thought on it for a moment.
Well, for starters, it was the failures who crippled my Factory. That much Atmosphere was sure of. He decided to retire to his office. He was headed there anyhow, and he could ruminate more on the subject in the quiet of the room’s walls. They did have decent soundproofing, after all.
The doctor took out a clipboard and pen as he sat at his desk. He scribbled “Test Failure Liabilities” at the top of a page before starting a list. His intention was to find out just how much truth there was behind Dash’s words. He figured the best way to do so was to see what harm the failures could be held accountable for.
At the top of course, he listed the damages to the factory, breaking down each specific detail of the destruction. He continued by jotting down every flaw in Cloudsdale that could possibly be attributed the test failures. Hide deducted that if they were introduced to society after the Incident, then any problems that had arisen since then were likely to be their fault. Then the problems came like a downpour. Each note that Atmosphere scrawled on the paper led to a dozen more, filling page after page with the crimes of the defects.
Delay in weather shipment…. Drop in economic productivity… Decrease in flight school grade averages… The list went on and on. The final list was slightly under fifty pages in length.
Hide stood up, pausing to contemplate the sheer volume of the document. Atmosphere knew the failures couldn’t be responsible for all of it; these were only possibilities. They are still just children, and normal children don’t try and bring a city to its knees. If only Dash believed that…
Hide was eventually dragged to his bed by exhaustion. He had been up for over twenty-four hours now, having spent the entirety of last night supervising repairs on the cyclone room. Spending an hour creating a fifty-page list didn’t help, either.
Three in the afternoon, he mused, glancing at his wall mounted clock. What a perfectly normal time to go to sleep.
“I can pay for it, if you’d like.”
“We’ve had this argument before, Pulse.” Hazel was digging in her backpack for a few bits as payment for two chocolate bars they bought from a market vendor. Her friend Pulse, as usual, insisted on paying for everything. “You’ve paid the last two times we’ve been here, so let me be the generous one today.”
Pulse smiled. Hazel was back to her old complaining self again. He had been worried about her for the past couple of days. She had seemed oddly unexpressive, she didn’t sound sleepy, but rather inert, rarely showing more than a laugh or groan of disapproval. Now she was back to normal. And as such, she had started to complain again, this time about never paying enough for snacks during their evening outings.
The store vendor seemed to be very much entertained by the two bickering back and forth, eventually edging in on the debate.
“Hazel is right, dear,” she turned to Pulse before continuing. “I’m sure you’ve been paying for the past week or so. Let your friend cut you a break for today.” The vendor’s smile vanished after she finished her sentence. Her gaze darted back and forth, surveying the area.
“I think you need to leave now.”
“What’s wrong?” Pulse followed the vendor’s eyes, which seemed to be scanning the people inside the marketplace.
“But we haven’t payed for the chocolate yet,” Hazel reminded her.
“Keep it. Now get out of here. Hurry!”
Now Hazel could see the reason for the vendor’s urgency. Several of the people in the area were slowly advancing on her and Pulse. The look on their faces revealed no hint of good intentions.
“Follow me!” Hazel lead the way, slipping quietly out of the area before the aggressors got any closer. Pulse followed closely as they exited the marketplace.
“You're not going anywhere, failures! Heheheh...” Hazel whipped around to see who the voice belonged to. Behind her was a scarred, sky-blue pegasus. He had a crazed expression on his face, his eyes bulging as he flew erratic spirals around the two.
“What do you want?” Pulse questioned. He tried his best to keep the fear out of his voice.
“What do I want? Hah! It's always about what I want, isn't it?”
“Umm...”
“Well, it's not!” The pegasus suddenly seemed to be in distress. His legs curled beneath him and his face contorted into a snarl, but he quickly regained his posture, continuing to twitch and occasionally laughing at things only he could see.
“It's about what Cloudsdale wants. What they want.” The insane pegasus motioned behind Pulse before bursting into laughter.
“Looks like he brought friends,” Hazel muttered. Four other pegasi moved in behind her and Pulse. Hazel looked around for any possible escape route. She was surrounded on all sides, but the open view of the darkened evening sky beckoned to her. She inhaled sharply.
“Fly!” She bolted upwards, startling the aggressors and gaining a decent lead on them. Pulse was close behind her.
“What was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” Hazel replied. “But someone must have something against us. They aren't after anyone else, are they?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Didn't they say something about-”
“Failures! Hahah!” Hazel was cut off as a demonic cackle sounded from above. “It's funny... because the failures are flying! Bahahaa!”
“Hazel!” Pulse called. “Above you!” Hazel jerked her head up, quickly discovering Pulse's cause for alarm. The blue pegasus had already caught up with them, flying about a hundred yards above. Hazel watched him soar with blazing speed, all while performing incredibly dangerous aerial maneuvers that no sane person would dare to try. As Hazel descended, he started a dive, similar to the kill spirals Hazel saw griffons use to catch their prey. Now the prey wasn't a small mouse or bird, but Pulse. The mad stallion was diving towards him, gaining lethal speed in the dive. Pulse had no time to dodge.
“Contrail!” The shout of his name shattered the stallion’s concentration. He started tumbling mid-spiral, clipping his target before plummeting further down. Pulse recovered just in time to see Contrail crash through the roof of a storage building below. He couldn't have survived that. He thought. Did we just... kill someone?
“Are you okay?” Hazel flew in beside him. “It looked like he still hit you.”
“Yeah, I'm fine. It doesn't hurt.” He thought for a moment. “How did you distract him like that?”
“I-I knew his name. Doctor Atmosphere mentioned him during an interview, I think.” She looked back; the memory was clearer now. “He said something about factory workers going insane, then mentioned someone named Contrail.”
“Well, he definitely wasn't the most sane pegasus I've met.” Pulse frowned. “Still...” He gazed down at the hole in the top of the storage building.
“Don't tell me you feel sorry for him, Pulse!” Hazel groaned.
“You know you might have just killed someone, Hazel?”
“Maybe, but I know for sure that you'd be splattered into a million pieces across that building if I hadn't saved your ass! Contrail would have killed you in a heartbeat. Besides, all I did was say his name. You can’t say that makes me a certified murderer.”
“Well excuse me for caring about someone's flocking life!” Pulse sighed, then began a downward glide to the ground. After landing, he spoke up again.
“Before I forget, you were saying something before we were... interrupted by Contrail.”
“What? Oh, right.” Hazel stuttered. “I was going to say that you should come to my house tonight. I don't think it's safe for us to be outside at night. My parents can call yours and tell them what's happening.”
“Nice thinking, but we need to move. Those other four pegasi are probably still looking for us.”
“What!” Talia fought the urge to yank the phone from her ear. She had expected this much of a reaction from Pulse's mother when she told her the news. She had the exact same reaction when her daughter and Pulse barged in. They choked out a story of chasing and running, their narration interrupted by constant gasps for breath. After Talia calmed them down, they were able to give her a story that she could decipher. As soon as Talia knew that the two were in danger, she called Pulse's mother to alert her.
“You're saying that my son was attacked by some loony factory worker on the streets?”
“Yes. Hazel was attacked, too.”
“How many were there?”
“They say there were five assailants. One of them-the factory worker-may have been killed.”
“So my son 'may have' just killed someone?”
“No, he-” Talia sighed. This isn't going anywhere. “Why don't you make your way to my house. You can pick up Pulse and bring him home safely.”
“I'm on my way.” Talia heard a click as the call was ended from the other end. She turned to see a worried Pulse looking up at her.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“She's going to come here and bring you home. She just left.” Talia began to lock the house down, starting by shutting the blinds on the windows. “I want you and Hazel to stay in the basement until your mother gets here. Hazel's already there. You'll be safer downstairs. Now go.” Pulse didn't waste any time in making his way there.
“Hazel?”
Her response was delayed and shaky. “I...I'm here...” She was sitting in the living room table, staring at a newspaper. “Come here. You- you need to see this.” Pulse rushed over to see what was causing Hazel so much distress.
“What is it?” Hazel was pointing at an article on the front page of the newspaper.
“Read this,” she demanded. Pulse leaned in closer. He began to read, his eyes getting wider as he continued.
“Document found in management of CWC: Test failures responsible for over fifty of Cloudsdale's largest issues...” Pulse threw the paper across the room, erupting into anger. “How can the failures be solely responsible for every single problem in Cloudsdale?”
Just a week before, Pulse had learned what “scapegoat” meant. When he had asked his parents about it, they had said it was someone who received the blame for something. At the time, he didn’t fully understand the word’s significance. It just hadn’t made much sense to him. Now, however, the meaning of scapegoat was made as clear as day in Pulse’s mind. He was one of them.
“It doesn't matter why they created the list,” Hazel walked over to the crumpled newspaper. “Propaganda is easy to spread. What we need to know is who created the list.” She opened the paper to the article. Pulse watched her eyes closely as they swept across the rest of the article.
“What's it say?” he intoned. Hazel lifted her gaze.
“It's Hide.” Pulse could practically feel Hazel’s anger. He could sense it radiating from her, bouncing off the walls and back to the center of the room.
“Hazel?” Someone was calling from upstairs. It was her mother.
“Yes?”
“Chroma’s home.”
A sense of relief washed over Hazel as she hurried up the steps. Though things looked grim for her and Pulse, she was thankful that her little sister would never have to deal with the shame of failing her flight test.
“Chroma!” Hazel quickly spotted her sister sitting with her back to the staircase. She didn't seem to register Hazel’s presence.
“Chroma?” Hazel repeated her sister's name again, softer this time. Relief was replaced by anxiety as Chroma remained unresponsive. Hazel crept forward.
Her sister was sobbing.
“Chroma…”
Hazel jumped as Chroma suddenly whipped around to face her. The tears were clearly visible as they streaked across her cheeks.
“Why did you fail, Hazel?” Chroma’s voice erupted into a male storm of anger and sobs. “Why did you have to fail your flocking test?”
Her sister was taken aback by the outburst of emotion and language. “I… I didn't want to fail!” Hazel tried to find the right words. “Why would I want to fail?”
“But you still failed! And now they're all laughing at me!” There was another burst of sobbing. “The whole school is laughing at me because of you! Because I'm sisters with a failure!” Now Hazel’s face was streaked with tears as well.
“I'm sorry, Chroma… I didn't- I’d never want you to be upset! Just, I'm sorry, okay?” She was at a loss for words.
“You're not sorry! You're not sorry!” Chroma rose up from the floor, repeating the phrase over and over as she ran to her room. The door locked behind her.
Hazel stood silent. Her mind failed to process what just happened.
“Hazel, don't worry,” Pulse’s voice tried reassuring her. She turned to see her friend standing next to Talia. How long have they been here?
“Your sister is just a little upset right now,” her mother soothed.
“A little upset?” I've never seen her this angry!” Hazel’s voice was quivering; fragile like thin glass.
“Hazel, why don't you turn in for the night? It’s late, you need the rest, and Pulse’s mom will be here soon. I promise you, when you wake up tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.”
Hazel did as told, dragging herself down the hall and towards her bedroom. Don't make promises you can't keep... She stopped to glance at Chroma’s door before settling in bed. Sleep brought an end to a day that had been very, very hard for Hazel.
Hide Atmosphere sat up in the surveillance room chair. “The Big Brother’s Throne” as many employees liked to call it. It was four in the morning, but the doctor had been awake for hours now. His sleeping schedule had been warped by the early turn-in the day before. He was using this time to attend to factory business. Specifically, supervising the hydration sector. There was a very important assignment scheduled on that day, one that was crucial for almost the entire factory to function.
Atmosphere booted up the surveillance system with a flick of a switch. Over a dozen monitors lit up in front of hide. A select few would occasionally flicker or cut to static suddenly. Repairs are still in progress, I see.
On the monitors that could still function, screens displayed areas around the facility. Storage units were being prepared while weather practiced air drills. Always in the background were scattered engineers continuing their constant repair work. Hide switched to the exterior camera matrix. The monitors greeted him with a breathtaking view. The sun, not yet clear of the horizon, cast Cloudsdale's silhouette against the vast ocean of eastern Equestria. It wasn’t often that there was a day as clear as this, not without the CWC in full function.
Hide was preparing the cooperation for the largest reservoir extraction in decades, and not because it was over the ocean. It wasn't just the sheer volume of water that was to be collected, it had to be completed by a facility that was still crippled by damages. But demands were high, and the CWC had to make amends for its recent setbacks. This was their one chance to redeem themselves in the world’s eyes, and Hide would see to it that they would do just that.
“Doctor Atmosphere?”
“What is it now, Celtus?” Hide didn't even bother correcting him on his preferred title. “And before you say anything, make sure you at least have some good news to tell me. I've been needing a lot of that lately.”
“Well, I- Uh…” Celtus glanced around as if searching for something to meet the doctor's criteria. The red stallion was still looking at the monitors, his back turned to the weather captain. “Well, the, um, the weather squad is fully prepared for the reservoir extraction.” He faked a smile.
“That’s great, Celtus,” Hide returned the fake smile. “Now tell me the bad news that you came to give me.”
Celtus prodded the ground nervously for awhile.
“For Luna’s sake, Celtus, say something! You act like I'm going to rip your wings off if you say anything I don't approve of!”
“It’s just- Have you happened to notice any, um, documents missing from your office?”
Hide turned from the monitors. His attention was suddenly fixed on Celtus. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, there seems to be a list someone found in your office yesterday. Something about liabilities, I think.”
Hide’s voice turned deadly serious. “Where is this document now?”
“It’s uh, gone.”
“What do you mean, gone? Who told you this?”
“No one told me! I- I saw it in the newspaper!”
“What? No!” Hide barreled out of the room, shoving Celtus aside. This was bad. If the flight lieutenant’s words were true, then everyone in Cloudsdale must have seen the list. Now Atmosphere had created propaganda on an unprecedented scale.
He had to get to the city. There must be some way he could stop this before it got out of hand. Or maybe it already had.
Once he was in the outer corridor network in the factory, there was enough space for Hide to get airborne. Personnel hardly ever flew while in the CWC. The insane array of pipes and wires generally restricted any kind of flight to a stationary hover. Hide took the risk, maneuvering around and between the factory’s seemingly endless components. He needed to get to Cloudsdale as soon as possible. Within seconds, an exit was visible in the corridor.
“ALERT: CONTAINMENT BREACH DETECTED. FACTORY LOCKDOWN ENGAGED. REPORT LOCATION OF RESOURCES TO FACTORY MANAGERS. ALERT: CONTAINMENT BREACH DETECTED.”
Alarms blared in Hide’s ears. This alarm in particular was very odd. This was the alarm used to notify the upper factory of an escaped failure. What would set off that alarm now? Immediately after the alarm stopped, Hide's exit closed in front of him. The lockdown systems were still online. But I disabled those myself! He came to a halt inches away from the steel door. Then Atmosphere realized what was happening. Someone had manually deactivated them, which meant that until Hide manually called off the alarm, no one was getting into the factory, and no one was getting out.
“Augh!” Atmosphere let out a grunt as someone hit him in midair. He turned to see a dazed Pegasus wobbling in flight. Several others were nearby, tearing down the corridor in a panic. “What’s going on?”
There was no response, just indistinct shouting from the terrified workers. Hide tried to decipher what they were saying. Gradually, he began to hear one word repeated amidst the clamorous yelling.
“Bomb.”
A loud noise jolted Hazel from her sleep. At first, there was just a deep but powerful rumble, then a loud crack and booming sound. It was like lightning and thunder in reverse, only it was unlike anything Hazel had ever heard. The would-be thunder was intense enough to rattle Hazel’s skull, and rendered her temporarily deaf. For a solid minute, she heard nothing but a high pitched ringing, accompanied by occasional muffled sounds. Frantically she made her way to Chroma’s bedroom. Her sister was awake, already out in the hallway.
“Are you okay?” Hazel found it odd not to hear her own voice, and she wasn't sure if Chroma could hear her, either.
Choma’s mouth moved in reply, but Hazel still heard nothing but ringing.
“I can’t hear anything,” she explained. “Just nod.” Chroma stopped for a second, then shook her head “yes”.
The sisters found their mother at the front door, staring at something they could not see. She beckoned for them to come closer.
“What is it?” Hazel’s hearing was starting to return. She could hear her voice again.
“Girls, look at this,” Talia's voice was shaky. Hazel’s stomach suddenly dropped. Her mother was very, very scared, and that meant that something was very, very wrong. She crept out of the doorway. Instantly she saw the crisis.
It was the factory. Or at least, what was left of it. Half of the upper level had been completely obliterated, while the rest of the CWC was either in ruins or in flames. Pieces of shrapnel were shot out in all directions. Some almost hit the city's edge, the one closest to the factory. Only the lowest sections of the facility were undamaged.
In spite of herself, Hazel felt a tiny bit of satisfaction with the disaster. The spectra production section of the factory had been destroyed. Hazel could see what she thought was a pegasus device falling among the debris, down into the ocean below. It was a very happy thing for Hazel to witness.
In the sky above, something caught Hazel’s eye. It was a piece of shrapnel that was blown towards the city. This one, strangely, traveled in a perfectly horizontal line, and at a oddly fast speed. Hazel tracked it as it moved directly above the city. Then it stopped, hovering in place. Hazel squinted. That can't be shrapnel…
Suddenly, the strange object turned sharply. It began diving towards the streets of Cloudsdale. Just before impact, Hazel could make out the figure: a pegasus, carrying a large package strapped between its wings. As it hit the ground, the pegasus was enveloped in a blinding flash, brighter than anything Hazel had ever seen. Then her world went dark.
The first thing that Hide noticed was the pain. His left hind leg felt as if hundreds of white-hot nails had been embedded into the flesh. The second thing Hide noticed was the rubble. It was everywhere. It covered the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling had twisted sheets of metal entangled by severed cables, many of which still sparked with lethal electrical energy. Atmosphere rose to his hooves, absentmindedly applying weight to his hind leg.
“Ah!” the doctor let out a small yelp of surprise as the pain in his leg flared up in protest. Bad idea. After realizing how badly his leg was damaged, he made sure to check himself for other injuries. He tested his other legs, then his wings. Nothing there. Luckily for Hide, his back leg seemed to be the only serious wound he had suffered. He was pretty sure not all of the people nearby had been as lucky.
Atmosphere gave the corridor a cursory glance. A large hole in the wall caught his attention. He presumed a heavy steel object had been blown back in the explosion, ripping a large tear in the outer factory wall.
Tentatively, Hide began limping towards the gash. His wings were still in good shape; he would be able to exit the factory through the hole and get help. The truth about the List could wait. Hide had a factory to save.
He made it there without tripping too many times. When Cloudsdale came into view, Atmosphere’s heart froze. Something was wrong. Something was extremely wrong.
“What happened?” His mouth quivered as he asked himself. Half of Cloudsdale looked to be in flames, while other areas were completely demolished. The devastation all too closely resembled the ruins of the factory.
Hide had seen enough sorrow to last a thousand lifetimes. For decades he had been in charge of a facility designed to kill. Countless shipments of failures had died at his hooves, but not once had he felt any sympathy. This- This was different. These weren’t failures who were dying in that city. They were innocent people. They had done nothing to deserve any of this. For the first time since he started working in the upper factory, a tear fell from the doctor’s eye.
“It’s been bombed, Hide.” Atmosphere spun himself around before collapsing back on his injured leg. He regained his footing to lock eyes with his old manager.
“What… What have you done?”
“Me?” Dash cackled. “Now why, oh why in Equestria would I, poor little Miss Dash, bring so much harm to the city I love so dearly?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Cutting to the chase, are we?” she gave a sigh of mock defeat. “Oh, well, I guess you’ve caught me. I admit it, I set off the bombs. Well, the one in the factory, at least. The one in Cloudsdale was Gentle’s work.” Dash chuckled. “The crazy mare had gone too insane to even release the thing. Went kamakazi and detonated herself on the street.”
Hide took little notice at the mention of the former CWC employee. He still hadn’t gotten an answer.
“I thought you were the element of Loyalty, Dash! You devoted yourself so completely to the corporation just to prove it to yourself, and now what? You decide to bomb the city and factory that you vowed to protect? Where’s the loyalty in that?”
“This isn’t the city that I vowed to protect.” Dash’s gaze turned poisonous. “That city was destroyed when you let it become infested with failures.”
“And I assume you figured bombing it was the best way to solve your issue.”
“Ahh,” Dash perked up at the comment. “You don’t see it do you?” A devilish snicker came from her throat. “Allow me to elaborate. Cloudsdale will blame the failures. Thanks to your little list, Hide, they’ll find a way to blame anything on them, and if they won’t, then I will. Once they realize that the failures can’t live in the city, they’ll have no choice but to go back to the way things were before. That, Doctor Atmosphere, is why.”
Hide stared at the cyan pegasus. She’s insane. There’s no way in Celestia’s name for this will work. “So now your plan is to go around monologuing your grand scheme to everyone who passes by.”
“You know, yes,” A sadistic grin widened on Dash’s face. “But believe me, that won’t be an issue.” Without hesitation, she took off. Hide was caught off guard as Rainbow rammed him square in the chest. He was instantly knocked to the floor by the sheer speed and force of the assault. By now Dash’s anger had erupted in full force.
“The corporation thrived under my leadership! Cloudsdale was stronger than it had ever been before. But you, YOU! You’ve destroyed what I created!” Dash proceeded to crush her former coworker underneath her. She reared back, raising her front legs in the air before coming back down on Hide's abdomen. Then again. And again. Atmosphere couldn't fight back. The explosion had left him weak. He began coughing up dark crimson blood.
Hide was half dead by the time Rainbow stopped, but he knew better than to take the intermission as a sign of mercy. Dash observed a large, sharp piece of bent metal protruding into from the wall.
“Well, finish it already!”
“As you wish,” Rainbow replied with a smirk. She fastened her teeth on Hide's wing. With tremendous effort, Dash carried him several feet into the air before launching the helpless pegasus at the wall. She ignored Hide’s screaming. The red stallion had been impaled by the metal, wailing in disbelief at the steel that jutted out of his torso.
Gradually, Atmosphere’s voice diminished when his lungs refused to work. His vision began to darken around the edges. So this is how it feels to die. Hide stared down at the metal that had impaled him. As his life force faded, he could see his own face reflected on the bloodstained chrome. Strange, Hide thought. Why don't I even recognize my own eyes?
“What happened…” Hazel staggered a second before snapping awake. Her mind struggled to sort out the events as they had occurred, but she couldn't remember anything after the flash.
Hazel was in her house. She was sure of that. The room was still recognizable even though it looked like a tornado hit it. Furniture was broken and scattered, and Chroma’s bed was now visible through a large hole in the wall, but there was something else. Hazel ran to the front window. Wait a minute…
On the other side of the glass, Hazel saw not the usual scene of her street in Cloudsdale, but water. There was nothing but water in every direction but up. High above, a distorted image of the city was scattered across the wavy surface of the water, which seemed to be getting farther and farther away with each second that passed. Hazel suddenly felt sick.
The house was underwater, and it was sinking. Soon it would be too deep for her to swim all the way to the surface. She needed to get out now. Without a second thought, Hazel pounded on the window with her hoof. A tiny crack appeared. She hit again. Another crack. Bigger this time. She drew back for a third.
“Hazel!” She stopped mid-swipe at the sound of her Chroma’s voice. Hazel found her sister in the hallway, but her hind leg was pinned under the remains of a bookcase.
“I can’t move my leg!” she cried. Even from where she stood at the front door, Hazel could tell that Chroma’s leg was broken. There was a joint where there shouldn’t have been, right where the corner of the bookcase came down on it. Hazel could hear glass starting to break behind her. She turned to the window. Water pressure was beginning to crack the glass from where Hazel had damaged it. After looking again at Chroma’s broken leg, she realized what was going to happen to her sister.
She can’t swim… Hazel only had a few seconds to cry before the window caved in. The room was instantly enveloped in a boiling torrent of saltwater.
The distant sound of the second explosion echoed for miles across the shoreline. The waves, seemingly unaffected by the chaos nearby, continued their constant cycle, receding into the ocean only to push back up the coast again. At their highest point, the waves lapped at the hooves of a beige pegasus. She had been sitting on the beach for hours now, gazing at the grand city of Cloudsdale as the first, and now the second bomb went off.
A small winged creature fluttered in between the grass-and-sandy colored tufts of the mare’s faded mane. She sighed. “I’m going to need some help.” As if on cue, the winged critter took off and started its way upshore, towards the city. The pegasus turned to watch the sun as it began to clear the horizon, basking her coat in the warm rays.
“They’ll always think the sky is bluer somewhere else…”
