Sunset

At the same time.

The factory was dimly lit and musty and smelled of metal and damp fabric. The rain was beating hard against the glass windows that let very little light into the upper rooms of the dreadful factory. The factory sat outside Ponyville, and the commute was thirty minutes to and from. Benches were everywhere, and sweaty ponies sat on stools near them, working on guns, cannons, and other artillery.

Near a window, sat a frazzled, very exhausted Brownie Button, putting together a long rifle with a sad face. Brownie wasn’t normally the healthiest and most-in-shape unicorn out there, but in the past few months, the commute was longer and harder. He was constantly tired, and every morning, a wave on nausea greeted him. It was unusual, but he never brought it up to Goldie Sugar, for she was busy all the time, with being a battle surgeon. He barely saw her at all anymore, and it made him always have a weight in his chest whenever he wasn’t with her. Poor Goldie had said the same thing, and both wished for the war to end soon.

“I hope it ends, I need it to end,” Brownie mumbled under his breath, putting the finishing touches on the weapon. He trotted up to a cart and placed the rifle on a stack of weapons that would be carted out to the war. He grabbed some parts from another pony near him and started assembling another long rifle.

He started placing the parts into there places when he felt a flutter in his abdomen. It was a strange feeling, alien at most. He freaked out when he looked back on all the symptoms he’d had the last few months.

He had another pony get to work on the long rifle, and he left to tell the manager he was going off work for a bit. He got excused early for “medical reasons” and he went to see a doctor, one of the few in Ponyville.

For some reason, Ponyville was frantic. Ponies were sacking stores and places, thinking the apocalypse was coming. Brownie just trotted past them all, trying to not get sucked into all the drama and chaos going on around him. He just kept trotting to the doctor's office, while he realized was going to be packed to the roof. Brownie found himself trotting into the Everfree Forest, knowing that Zecora, a friend of all Ponyville, was there.

The forest was even darker than it used to be, and a bit more spooky. Brownie pulled a handgun out of his leather saddlebags using his golden tinted magic. He knew of the dangers around him, and it made his stomach churn nervously. He heard the stories of Timberwolves and the other creatures that live in the forest. He clicked the handgun from safety to active.

The trees rustled with the breeze and soft rains that fell. It was cool and nice, which felt good to Brownie Buttons sweaty coat. He looked out into the darkness and saw the faint outline of a mud and tree hut, the living area of Zecora, the friendly Ponyville shaman. He smiled, and galloped to the hut, and knocked on the wooden door with his hoof.

“Zecora! Zecora! I need your help!” Brownie Button cried out, nervously.

The door opened, and he was greeted by the comforting face of Zecora, “Come in, come in Brownie Button, I have made a bunch of sweets so you can be a glutton.” She said, pulling Brownie Button into the hut.

Brownie cringed when Zecora said “glutton”, but he forgot about it when he saw a massive array of treats on a table in Zecora's hut. It was a load of treats Brownie and Goldie loved, and he had to refrain himself from diving in.

“So, what's with the array of treats Zecora?” Brownie Button asked, a little skeptical.

“Oh, a party I am having, and the treats are for the planning,” Zecora said, pulling a batch of cupcakes out of a stone oven.

“Aren’t you doing anything for the war, Miss? I don’t think right now is the time for treats…” Brownie said, his jaw clenching up a little.

“This party is for going away, for I have no reason to stay. The front lines need me, as you can see.” Zecora said, gesturing to a uniform sitting on a bench. It was pale blue with gold streaks and looked as if it were made of silk and chainmail.

“To help my people is simple. To go to war is more.” Zecora continued, pouring Brownie Button a glass of tea. Brownie sniffed it and took a sip. He didn’t have that gut feeling something bad would happen to him, a gut feeling he trusted. He smiled and sipped at the tea.

“Now, no more of me speaking, now you, reveal what you are thinking…” Zecora said, standing over a cauldron in the middle of her room.

Brownie trotted up to Zecora, and peered into the cauldron, “That was a question I hoped you would answer. What is going on with me?” He asked, peering into the cauldron, then looking Zecora dead in the eye.

“Well, what are you feeling? I need to know for the dealings.” Zecora rhymed, looking at Brownie Button with a skeptical look.

“Well, hungry, but nauseous…” Brownie said, cautiously. Zecora peered at him and smiled.

“Well, from what you said, and your symptoms its lead, I have the answer you seek, but it’s not for the meek,” Zecora said, with a smile as she looked over Brownie. Brownie Button cringed inwardly, afraid of what she was going to say. A parasite? A disease? an organic chip in your brain that can control you if activated by an order, preferably order 66?

(I am so sorry… R.I.P. Fives and Tup)

“Well come on, tell me Zecora… tell me!” Brownie Button pleaded nervously.

“The thing causing all this excitement is that you are pregnant.”