Identicality

by Valystine

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Starlight Glimmer, Trixie, Adventure, Violence, Princess Celestia, Death, Alternate Universe, Main 6, Drama, Gore, Original Character
Length: 18412

In a new society where being different is illegal and being identical is the social norm, much of what Equestria once was has been forgotten. Citizens are givens pills to make them look identical and happy. What happens when one mare breaks the mold?

Do not think. Do not question. Just do as your told. Obey the laws. Take your pills. Do not worry about a thing. Do not deviate from the populace. Obey the Overmare. Take your pills. Do not forget to take your pills. Have you taken your pills? Remember to take your pills four times a day. Take your pills. Take your pills. Take your pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills.

...

Why? Why can't I think? Why can't I question? Why do I have to obey these laws? Why can't I deviate? Why do I have to listen to the Overmare? Why do I have to take these pills?

Who am I? Why am I living this life? Am I more than just a serial number?

I don't want to live like this anymore. Why is everypony else okay with it? Everything is corrupted... horrible. How did we become to live such manufactured lives? Everypony lives in ignorance. Why can't they see what's going on? Why won't anypony listen? I have to do something. I have to make somepony listen.

I WON'T take my pills. I WON'T listen to the Overmare. I WILL question everything. I WILL put an end to it.

YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME!

Edit #1: The rating has been changed from 'Teen' to 'Mature' as a precaution for a scene featured in the chapter "A Break In The Mold [Part Two]" and for future scenes planned for future chapters. If you believe the rating can remain 'Teen' while still featuring this scene, please let me know. Thanks!

Edit #2: The rating has been changed back to 'Teen' after carefully reviewing the particular scene in "A Break In The Mold [Part Two]" that I had made me change the rating to 'Mature'. If the story is incorrectly tagged as 'Teen' because of that particular scene in the story, please let me know and I'll change it again.

Published 2019-01-25 10:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-02-25 04:15:06 UTC

A Break In The Mold [Part One]

Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Bee- Click.

I pull my hoof back toward my body as I sit up and open my eyes. Streams of sunlight flood in through the window, dimly lighting my bedroom. There's nothing special about my room. Just a dark oak desk in the corner of the room next to the window, a bookcase filled with an array of books approved by the Overmare and the Senate, my dresser and, of course, my bed twin size bed. There is a rug on the livid colored carpeted floor between the foot of my bed and the bathroom door. It's circular shaped and white with a thinner blue circle a few inches from the edge. The bookcase in the corner close to my bed is made of dark oak and contrasts against the plain, off-whiteness of the room's wallpaper, much like my desk.

My bed is plain and simple. A simple white mattress sitting atop a matching box spring, both of which sat atop an oak bed frame- headboard included. Next to the bed is a matching nightstand. On top of it sits a black electric alarm clock, a lamp with a goldish metal body and a white, gold trimmed lampshade and a fake blue succulent in a rust-red colored pot. A circular, black analog clock hangs on the wall next to the door leading out into the hallway. Next to the door is my oak dresser containing what little clothing items I own. The only other door led to the bathroom, which I knew to be just as simple as the rest of the house.

I climb out of bed and stretch before trotting over to the bathroom door. I pull it open and walk over to the sink. The bathroom is somewhat small. The wallpaper is the same off-white as my bedroom and the livid carpet is replaced by soft grey and black square tiles. The bathtub-shower combination is dark grey, unlike the off-white toilet that sat next to it. The sink is white and built into the oak counter and surrounded by dark granite. A black framed, rectangular shaped mirror hangs on the wall above the sink. The only other notable things are the towel rack- which held two white towels- and the white light switch by the door.

I pick up the empty cup sitting next to the sink and turn on the faucet with my free hoof. As I fill the cup up with cold water, I open a box of pills labeled ‘Retla’ that featured a happy mare popping pills into her mouth atop an orange and ginger background. The capsule pills inside are separated by color in the box. The right side held the purple pills while the left held the yellow ones. Routinely, I take one yellow pill and one purple pill out of the box and pop them into my mouth, then take a long sip of water. I can feel them sliding down my throat and into my empty stomach.

Almost immediately, I feel a wave of calmness and extreme happiness wash over my entire body. After placing the now empty glass down, I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My skin is pale blue in color and my mane and tail- both styled into neat, perfect buns- are pale blonde. In contrast to that, my eyes a dark shade of red. My flanks are a blank canvas, but I don’t want something called a ‘cutiemark’. They’re illegal anyhow and I have no intentions of being thrown out on my own into the Wasteland.

I’m identical to all the other mares in District 3, including my mother, and that’s something I’m proud of. Being identical means a better life for everypony. No differences mean no negativity, and no negativity means we can all live a happy, better life. Could you imagine if we were all… different? It would be horrible. Differences would cause rifts and chaos. It would destroy our perfect world. Our lives are so peaceful, so happy and so beautiful. Why would anypony want that to change? The only way to continue our way and quality of life are to continue taking our pills, obey the laws and trust the Overmare. She cares for us all like we’re her precious children. Disobeying her and the laws she’s set for us would be like wanting to destroy everything we hold dear. Disobeying her would be essentially suicide.

Realizing I’ve lost myself in thought, I lightly shake my head and quickly brush my mane and tail, slicking them both into neat buns. I make my way back into my room and trot over to my desk and grab my plain brown saddlebag hanging on the back of my desk chair. After securing it around my waist, I turn around and trot over to my bedroom door. I pull open the door, only to be greeted by my brother standing outside.

“Yes, 442343?” I question with a happy grin.

“Mother sent me to check on you,” He says, wearing an equally happy grin, “says you were taking unusually long. Normally you're down by sixty thirty. It's sixty thirty-five.”

“Sorry, I had to use the bathroom after taking my pills,” I lie, taking a step forward.

“Oh. I suppose we better get downstairs so we can eat before leaving for school,” He says, taking a step back.

“I suppose you're right,” I say, trotting past him and towards the stairs.

442343 smiles and follows after me. Everypony in Equestria, except for the Overmare, are identified by a serial number tattooed onto their left foreleg at birth. Depending on where we are or what we're doing, we may wear a badge, nametag or necklace with our serial numbers on them. Clothes aren't usually worn unless it's a special occasion, such as the Pairing Ceremony or the Great Assignment. When somepony does wear clothes, whether or not it's a special occasion, they can only wear outfits approved by the Overmare and the Senate. The fanciest dresses approved by them have simple lace trims on them, but other than that they’re simple in style like the others.

“Good morning, 442389,” My mother says as 442343 and I reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Good morning, mother,” I say as I approach the table.

“A little late coming down this morning, aren’t you?” Mother questions “everything okay? Did you take your pills?”

“Of course, mother. I would never forget to,” I say “I apologize for my lateness. I had to use the bathroom.”

“Ah, well, breakfast is ready, 442389,” Mother says with a gesture towards the table.

Four plates of neatly stacked pancakes were placed around the wooden table with eating utensils placed alongside them. My father sat on one end of the table reading a book. The cover is red with a white rectangle in the middle. The words 'Generally Applied Mathematical Teachings’ are written in black letters. Beneath the title is various mathematical equations drawn with black ink.

Father and 442343 are both unicorns like mother and I. Unlike the mares of District 3, stallions of our district have pale purple coats, pale blue manes and tails styled into simple, straight cuts and dark green eyes. Everypony in District 3 are unicorns. I have never been to another district personally, but I’m sure the ponies there are unicorns as well. It only makes sense.

I take a seat at the table, sitting in the chair closest to the stairs. 442343 sits to my left and scoots his chair closer. I watch mother fill four glasses mostly full with orange juice, sit them on a tray and carry them over to the table using her blue colored magic. Mother sits the tray gently in the center of the table and uses her magic to pass out the juice. She takes a seat across from my brother and beams happily at the three of us.

“Time to eat,” Mother says cheerfully.

“Thank you, mother,” 442343 and I say simultaneously.

“You’re welcome,” Mother says, beaming more “225718, could you kindly put the book down?”

“Of course, 225684,” Father says, setting the book aside.

“Thank you,” Mother says.

Father smiles at mother for a moment before looking at his plate. The four of us pick up our forks and began to eat our breakfast in sync and in silence, happy grins spread ear to ear on all our faces. Nopony says a word during the entirety of breakfast. The only sounds to be heard were the of our in sync cutting, chewing and swallowing of our pancakes, the synced sipping of our glasses of orange juice and the faint sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the house. Fifteen minutes later, we finish our breakfast and allow mother to take the dirty dishes over to the sink.

“Alright, children, you remember what tonight is, right?” Mother asks with a proud grin.

“Yes, mother,” 442343 and I say in sync “tonight is the Great Assignment.”

“When you get home, you must wash up and put on your best clothes,” Mother says “tonight is very important. You wouldn’t want to make the Overmare think that you… don’t care.”

“We’ll dress our best, mother. We promise,” 442343 and I say together.

“Good, now go outside and wait for the bus with your father,” Mother says “goodbye.”

“Yes, mother. Goodbye mother,” 442343 and I say as we stand and trot over to the front door.

“Goodbye, 225684,” Father says.

“Goodbye, 225718. Don’t forget to wheel the trash can out to the end of the lawn for the garbargeponies,” Mother says.

“Of course,” Father says, trotting over to 442343 and I.

He trots past us and opens the door with his magic. 442343 and I follow him outside, the door closing behind us with a soft thud. The outside is warm, the sky is clear and the sun shines brightly. There is a small breeze blowing through the neighborhood. The cool air feels nice as it blows across my skin. Our neighborhood is rather large. Identical two-story houses with brown wooden roofs, soft pigeon blue sidings, and white framed square windows line either side of the asphalt street for as long as the eye can see. Lush green, recently cut lawns enclosed by short, dark wood fences surround every house.

As I look around, I see other ponies my age trotting out to the end their walkways along with a parent. We all seem to be in sync. The sisters are to the right, their brothers to the left and the parent in front of both of them. We all wear the same happy grins and carefree looks on our faces. We all stop at the end of the walkway, about a foot from the edge of the sidewalk. We stand there for a good five minutes before two rows of black and white buses come down the road from either direction. The buses come to a stop with an audible hiss and the doors swing open. Without missing a beat, we board the buses and sit down on the white leather seats.

I take a seat by the window near the front of the bus. Father and brother sit next to me. To fit the three of us, we scooch together closely, our skin millimeters from touching. The buses are idle for a couple of minutes before the doors swing shut and we’re slowly driven down the road. Soft soothing music plays throughout the bus as we sit in relative silence. I glance up at the bus driver, a mare identical to me. Just like the rest of us, she wears a happy grin on her face. The levels of happiness on the bus is almost palpable and makes me feel even happier.

I look out the window and watch the blur of identical houses pass by. The scenery remains the same until we approach the outer edges of the core of District 3. The suburban neighborhood outside the window turns into tall industrious buildings looming overhead like silent guardians. There’s a slight cloud of pollution lingering above the core of District 3, like a greyish film over the blueness of the sky. The further into the core of the district we go, the shorter the buildings become and the more synchronized bustle I see.

A a few short minutes later, the bus comes to a stop with another low hiss. Looking over, my eyes are greeted with a familiar sight; District 3’s School of General Learning. The school is composed of four floors. The ground floor holds the cafeteria, library, front office, and other administrative rooms. The first floor holds the elementary school classes while the second floor holds the middle school classes. Lastly, the third floor holds the high school classes, the ones 442343 and I attend.

The exterior of the school is made of brick painted pale purple and accented with pale blue. A large black awning juts out from the face of the building a few feet above the school’s entrance. On top of the awning near the edge, big white letters spell out the word ‘school’ in all capitals. Large windows are evenly spaced all over the school building. Outside the school, beneath the end of the awning, two Blackcoats- one mare, one stallion- stand there watching the buses.

The bus door swings open as I watch 442343 and father climb out the seat. I follow suit and quickly find myself standing in the aisle waiting for the ponies in front of me to move. Father ducks back into the seat and places himself next to the window. He waves goodbye to the two of us for a short moment before turning his attention to the window. I look over at 442343, who grins at me.

“Ready for our last wonderful day of school?” 442343 questions, following the crowd of ponies off the bus.

“Absolutely,” I say enthusiastically, following after him.

“I feel honored that the Overmare will personally be there to assign our rolls,” 442343 says.

“As do I,” I say “she's such a benevolent and wise leader. Our lives would be miserable without her.”

“Couldn't have said it better myself,” 442343 says, joining the flow of colts of various ages “goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” I say, mingling with the flow of differently aged fillies.

I accidentally bump into a mare my age as I turn my attention in front of me. She makes a small squeaking sound as she stumbles sideways a few steps. I glance down at her left foreleg quickly and read the serial number tattooed in black ink: MD3-442388-91.

“I apologize for bumping into you,” I say as I look up at her “I didn't mean to do so.”

“All is forgiven. Please try to pay more attention in the future,” The mare says, her voice completely monotone, as she regains her composure.

The mare is a spitting image of myself. Looking at her is like looking into a mirror. Even our voices are the same.

“Duly noted,” I say, giving her a rather large grin “are you ready for the Great Assignment tonight?”

“Of course,” The mare says, giving me a small smile in return “we mustn’t continue the conversation. The Blackcoat officers might believe we’re… friends.”

I feel a small pang of some unfamiliar emotion in my chest at the way the mare says ‘friends’. She says it almost in a shudder, as the very thought of beings friends- or even friendship in general- is the vilest thing to have ever been thought. I quickly dismiss the unknown emotion and thoughts from my head. Of course, the mare is right. Friendship, among other things, is illegal in Equestria. Breaking the no-friendship law is punishable by swift death or immediate banishment to the Wasteland. A punishment no pony would ever want, and so her reaction is justified. If Blackcoats suspected us to be friends, we’d both be punished.

“Of course, my apologies,” I say after a brief moment of silence “you have a good day.”

“You too,” The mare says, looking away from me.

I look away from the mare and exhale sharply. I must be coming down with some kind of virus or infection. I don’t feel sick, though. Perhaps the box of pills in my bathroom have expired? No, I would remember if they were close to expiring. Maybe I’ve been given a bad batch? There must be something wrong. Normally, I don’t have thoughts like these, nor do I feel any… strange… emotions. In fact, I've never had these thoughts before. I clearly remember taking my pills before leaving the house, so I don't know what could be making me have these thoughts. I’m sure nothing good would from telling the nurse or anypony else about… this.

The best thing I can do is make an attempt to forget about all of this. The interaction with MD3-442388-91, the subsequent feeling in my chest. All of it. I lightly shake my head as I pass through the school’s entrance and enter the large hallway. To my left was the front office. The large windows allowed me to see the receptionist sitting behind her blocky u-shaped desk. Over to my right was a single door leading to the janitor’s office. Forgetting about my woes feels easier than what I anticipated. So long as I remain focused on something, it all slips from my mind.

The sea of school ponies flows into the school’s large cafeteria. Since everypony eats breakfast at home prior to boarding the buses and dinner after we all return home, the only meal we receive at school is lunch. The teachers arrive at school at the same time we students do and in order to give them time to set up the day’s lesson, we students sit in the cafeteria and read any approved books. My personal favorite is a book on Equestrian history. I particularly enjoy the bits featuring pictures.

As I take a seat at one of the many elongated tables in the section for high schoolers, I notice pamphlets have been placed at every seat. I pick up the one sitting in front of me and examine the cover. A sea of red surrounds the picture of the Overmare next to an odd-looking computer. Only a thin line of black separates the picture and the redness surrounding it. The title, printed in white letters, reads ‘The Great Assignment - What You Need To Know’.

Opening up the pamphlet, information pertaining to the Great Assignment, how it works, its importance and how it started- among other topics- are listed in an orderly fashion with accompanying pictures. The whole pamphlet feels unnecessary. It serves more as a reminder that we’ll be moving up in society rather than giving us any real information we didn’t know prior. Throughout the final school year for us high schoolers, our teachers have talked about the Great Assignment and what we should expect. My class was given an assignment once that had us interview our parents about their Great Assignment experience and what roles they were given. That assignment led me to find that my father worked as a mechanic and my mother as a neonatal nurse.

After breezing through the pamphlet, I place it in my saddlebag and pull out my history book. Having read the book cover to cover several times in the past, I idly flip through pages, occasionally stopping to reread a paragraph of interest or to admire a historical picture. I eventually come across the section detailing the coming about of the Blackcoats and the justification of both their existence and importance. The third page about Blackcoats features a comparison of their prototype uniform and their current ones. The prototype design gave them the appearance of clunky robots. Looking at it, you can almost feel heavy they look. Their current uniforms are much sleeker and appealing than the prototype designs.

All Blackcoats, regardless of gender, have charcoal grey coats and are always unicorns. Their uniforms consist of black button-up jackets with white buttons and accents, plain black pants, black boots, and a hat. The style of the hat you’ll see on a Blackcoat depends on their gender. Female Blackcoats wear bowler hats while the males wear peaked caps. In addition to all this, Blackcoats always wear these white masks with a permanent happy grin etched into it. The eye holes are covered with a special piece of glass that- along with the hardware inside of the mask- allows the wearer to pull up information about any pony or place in the district.

“Attention students, you may proceed to class in an orderly fashion,” A female voice says, echoing about the cafeteria “please remember to take your belongings with you.”

With a small sigh, I place my book back in my saddlebag and rise from my seat. I join the crowd of ponies milling out into the hallway, the thoughts from earlier threatening to enter the forefront of my mind. I try to confine the newer thoughts to the back of mind along with the ones from earlier. I can hope that by the end of the day, I’ll have completely forgotten all about it. I hope that my classwork will suffice as ample distraction from those unwanted, intrusive thoughts.

***

Two hours have since passed and those intrusive thoughts continue to pester me. I don’t understand why they keep whirling around my head. I dislike them and wish for them to stop. I glance up at the clock hanging above the teacher’s desk. Just another twenty minutes and it’ll be lunch time, and then we’ll all take another dose of pills. Maybe then, those thoughts will disappear completely.

“Miss 442389, would you please come here?” The teacher asks in a soft voice.

I rise from my desk and trot over to the teacher, who gives me a big smile.

“Take these papers down to the front office, please,” Teacher says, floating over a thick stack of paperwork with her magic.

“Yes ma’am,” I say, taking the papers with my own magic “would it be alright if I stop at the restroom if need be on my way back?”

“I suppose so,” Teacher says, looking down at her book “now run along.”

Without another word, I trot over to the door and exit the classroom. The hallway is empty and feels a bit cooler than the classroom. I sigh softly as I trot down the hallway. The walls and ceiling are white. The majority of the floor tiles are also white, with weaving patterns of pale blue and pale purple. Dark purple lockers line both sides of the hall, only interrupted every few feet by a door. This hallway soon comes to end and I’m presented with the options of going left or right. I take the left hall and trot a little faster.

I soon come to one of only two stairwells in the school. Carefully, I make my way down the winding stairs until I reach the ground floor. When I reach the last step, the janitors cleaning the floor look over at me and smile. I give them a smile back as I trot past them and proceed to the front office. A few short trots later and I’m by the door leading into the office. I pull on it with my magic, only to find it locked. I look up to see the secretary is gone from her desk, leaving the office empty. I give the glass window of the door three hard knocks and wait for the secretary to come back.

Sure enough, after hearing my knocks, the secretary returns to her desk and presses a button to unlock the door. It unlocks with an audible click and I’m able to pull it open with my magic. I trot inside the office and set the stack of paperwork on the counter.

“Mrs. 225720 has asked me to deliver these papers to the front office,” I say.

“Thank you, young one. I have some more paperwork for your teacher, so please have a seat over there,” The secretary says “I need to print it off, get them sorted and stapled and then you can be on your way. It shouldn't take but five or six minutes.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, trotting over to one of the many green leather chairs.

I sit down on the cold leather seat and look over at the nearby table for something to read. A plastic container neatly organizes a variety of pamphlets, including copies of the Great Assignment pamphlet given to all the high schoolers earlier that morning. I can't help but feel as if the Overmare is staring directly at me, almost as if she's staring into my soul. The Overmare is an advocate for equality, yet she has no identical twin. There's nopony who looks like her. I've always figured it was for the best, that she was keenly aware of the fact. It would be a tad hard to lead if you couldn't discern yourself from the rest of the crowd, wouldn't it?

I tear my gaze from the pamphlet and examine the others. I settle on a pamphlet for the Blackcoat anniversary celebration. I bring it over with my magic and read it. The anniversary celebration is an annual event celebrating the inception of the Blackcoats. It’s an event everypony is required to attend at the Ceremony Hall. All the Blackcoats in the district are lined up on the stage and the Overmare comes on and gives a big speech about how she came to create them and how important they are, as well as how grateful she- and everypony else- is to have them. There’s a brief intermission where we’re allowed to eat as much as the provided food as we’d like, then it’s back to more speeches. Some of it’s about Blackcoats, some of it is the Overmare talking about herself and how she’s saved us from a world of hate.

I read through the pamphlet five times before the secretary calls me back up to the front desk. I glance up at the clock. Seven minutes have passed by, which means I have only six to use the bathroom and get the stack of paperwork to my teacher.

“It took me a tad longer than expected,” The secretary says “I had to retrieve more staples from the supply room. In case you’re late, I’ve written a note saying just that.”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, giving her a big smile.

“You’re welcome,” She says, smiling back “now run along.”

“Yes ma’am, have a good day,” I say, turning away from the desk.

“You too,” She says.

The door makes another clicking sound as I approach it. It glides open with ease as I pull it with my magic. With haste, I make my way back up to the fourth floor of the school. Back up on the fourth floor, I ask a nearby janitor for the time.

“Three minutes till twelve,” He says.

“Okay, thank you,” I say, smiling at him.

“You’re welcome, now skedaddle on back to class,” He says, trotting away.

Only three minutes? But I’ve got use the restroom. Looks like I’ll be late getting back to the teacher and going to lunch… unless I make a pitstop at my locker and take my pills with me to the restroom. Doing so will make me even later getting back to my teacher, but she’ll just have to deal with it. Besides, she gave me permission to use the restroom on my way back and I have a note from the secretary excusing my lateness. Even if I’m chastised for returning late to class, at least I’ll have taken my pills and forgotten about the intrusive thoughts plaguing my mind.

After a couple of minutes, I find my locker- number 405- and open it up. With glee and a sigh of relief, I pull a small plastic bag containing my lunchtime pills out of my saddlebag. Usually, I take mine with something to drink, but this time I’ll have to make do with swallowing them dry. I take a step back and close my locker. I trot down the hall and make my way to the bathroom.

I trot into the filly’s room, my pills and delivery in my magical grasp. As I step through the doorway, the sound of water running fills my ears. As I round the corner, the mare washing her hooves at the sink looks over at me with an expressionless face.

“Good afternoon,” I say, giving her a small grin.

In the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel like the small grin I give the mare is fake, or at least half fake.

“Good afternoon,” She says, her voice completely monotone as her eyes drift to the items in my magical grasp “what are you doing with those?”

“The paperwork is for my teacher, Mrs. 225720. She sent me to the office and this the stack the secretary wants me to give to her,” I explain “and since it’s close to lunchtime, I decided it would be best to take my pills with me to the bathroom.”

The mare blinks then narrows her eyes at me just enough for it to be somewhat noticeable, but only if you were paying attention. She shuts the faucet off with her magic, then uses it to pull a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser.

“I see,” She says, turning to face me “it would break the Overmare’s heart if you were to flush your pills down the toilet.”

“Indeed it would,” I agree, glancing down for a moment to read the serial number on her leg.

MD3-442388-91. The same mare who I had bumped into earlier this morning. A pure coincidence, of course, but for some reason, I can help but feel as if we continue to run into one another for a reason. An awkward silence fills the air as we simply stare at each other, unsure of what to say next or how to end the conversation. The grin I held on my face melts into a small, awkward smile. 442388’s face remains expressionless.

“Say, aren’t you the mare who bumped into me this morning?” She questions “your serial number looks familiar.”

“Yes, that would be me,” I say, shifting my weight a bit “it seems we continue to run into one another.”

“Unfortunately so,” She says, a hint of disgust flickering in her eyes momentarily “luckily there are no Blackcoats monitoring the restroom. I would really rather not be exiled… or executed.”

The same feeling I felt from the way she had said ‘friends’ earlier arises again in my chest. I have the sudden urge to snap at her and make a rude remark, and it takes everything in me to refrain from doing so. I can see why friendship is illegal, I want to say, being friends with you would be irritating with an attitude like that. 442388 merely blinks at me, as if she’s unfazed by how rude her comment is.

“Very unfortunate, but I do agree,” I say, purposefully lacing my words with venom “it would be very… irritating if they mistook me to be a friend of yours.”

This earns a very noticeable eye narrowing and appalled look from 442388.

“Excuse me?” She questions, clearly offended “are you implying that you find the idea of having a friendly relation with me… annoying?”

“Apologies, 442388, I was under the impression you felt the same way,” I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

442388 narrows her eyes harshly at me for a moment before relaxing her face and retaining the same emotionless expression as before. A shrill bell rings out in the hallway for a couple of seconds before stopping. 442388 sighs loudly, clearly still upset.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I say, trotting forward a few steps.

442388 rolls her eyes before reluctantly nodding her head in agreement.

“You should feel lucky that I won’t be reporting this to any authority figure,” She says, trotting towards me “it’s not worth it to take myself down too.”

“Goodbye, 442388. Have a pleasant day,” I say, forcing myself to smile kindly at her.

442388 merely rolls her eyes again in response as she trots past me. Sighing softly, I trot into the closet stall and close the door behind me. I lock the door and sit on the toilet. I take in a deep breathe as I sit the paperwork on the floor and place the pills in my left hoof. Exhaling sharply, I raise my hoof and open my mouth, preparing to swallow these flavorless pills. As I’m about to pop my Retla pills into my mouth, I suddenly pause, the pills mere millimeters from my lips. Into my head pops a bunch of questions that almost shatters my entire life.

Why do I have to take these pills? What happens if I refuse to take them? Would I die? Would anything happen at all? Why is the Overmare so adamant that we take them?

I pull my hoof and the pills away from my mouth and simply stare at them. A part of me wants to cram the Retla pills down my throat and forget about those reality fracturing questions and intrusive thoughts. Another part of me, however, wants me to throw the pills down into the mix of piss and toilet water in the bowl below and flush them away. An exhausting whirlwind of questions assaults my brain. These conflicting emotions almost make me want to swallow the Retla pills, but at the same time, I want to attempt to endure it and see what happens if I just flush them.

After what feels like an eternity, I finally make my resolve. Using my magic to tear off some toilet paper, I wipe myself clean and hop off the toilet. Holding the pills in my magical grasp, I turn around and stare down into the toilet bowl. I glance over at the pills and take in a deep breath.

“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” I mumble after exhaling slowly.

I quickly throw the Retla pills into the piss water below and flush the toilet. A small part of me feels regret for flushing them, but surprisingly, I feel more relieved than anything else. Sighing softly, I exit the stall, wash and dry my hooves and make my way back to Mrs. 225720.

To be continued....

Author's Note

Apologies for the lateness of this chapter! A lot of personal/family issues, work, and college stuff has delayed this chapter's release. Hopefully, future chapters will come out at more reasonable times. Thank you all for being patient with me! I made sure to make this chapter extra long to make up for the delay!

Edit: I realized that because the chapter is extremely long, it may cause readers feel as if it's take forever and a half to read and possibly make give up on finishing the chapter. Therefore, I have split the chapter into two parts. Sorry for any inconveniences. Thank you for ready "Identicality"!!

Freebird

Hmm. Is this thing on? Oh, there's the red light. Ahem.

My name is... well, I don't actually have a name. Nopony does. We're just serial numbers. I am- er, was- serial number MD3-225780-71. The 'M' stands for 'Mare'. The 'D3' stands for 'District 3', where I'm from. The '225780' part is my unique code and the '71' stands for the year I was conceived in. Our unique codes are the only thing unique about any of us. Every mare looks the same. Same for stallions too. Your identical look depends on what district you're from.

Let me start over, from the beginning. Not that it really matters. They'll find me and this recording, exile me to the Wasteland- not that that matters either, I'm going there on my own- and destroy this recording. If, somehow, both this recording and I survive, then you'll know the truth or what I know to be the truth so far. This country has many secrets. Unfathomable ones, I imagine, that not even I- a mare who's refused her pills for a week- have been able to uncover. Information is all but impossible to claw from their tightfisted hooves.

I'll start with the districts. At some point in history, Equestria was divided into a total of five districts. Each one has their own factory that produces the pills widely and ignorantly consumed by the masses of that district. Each district has its particular look for mares and stallions. For example, the mares of District 3 have pale blue coats, pale blonde manes styled into neat buns and dark red eyes. The stallions there have pale purple coats, pale blue manes styled into simple, straight cuts and dark green eyes. Both genders are unicorns. We're not allowed to freely go to the other districts unless explicitly ordered by Blackcoats, who get their orders from the Overmare. No Blackcoats- those are police ponies, by the way- have ever ordered me to go to another district, so I couldn't really tell you what the other mares and stallions look like. I do know, though, for a fact that the looks of mares and stallions differ between districts.

The pills I keep mentioning are what makes us look the same. They're what keeps us brainwashed. They completely eliminate free will and enable seamless manipulation. We- they- take one purple pill and one yellow pill. They're taken together with water or swallowed dry and four times a day, although trying to swallow them dry always makes me gag. They're advertised as 'Retla Pills' on billboards and posters. If you take the time to stop and think about it, 'Retla' is just the word 'Alter' backward and 'alter' is exactly what they do. Alter our looks and state of mind. It just seems so obvious, right? Just as plain as the noses on our faces? When you're brainwashed like the rest of the population, they won't let you think, they won't let you question anything at all and they certainly won't allow you to do things on your own free will.

Let me tell you a bit about life in the districts. We nameless ponies live with families who we're not even related to. They go out of their way to make sure the filly and colt given to each paired stallion and mare are not from the same birth mother. I'm not entirely sure when it first started, but at some point, a lottery system was used to pair a mare and a stallion together once they turn twenty. Nothing fancy, just the signing of some papers and then the two move into a cookie cutter house. After a certain amount of time, the two are given one filly and one colt.

The newborns are essentially mass-produced, sort of like the Retla pills. I'm not quite sure just yet of how it got started, but I know now that half of the mares and stallions born each year are kept in the Fertility Houses of each district. There, they are raised solely for the purpose of replacing the previous breeders and to continue the cycle of mass reproduction. I've found evidence that previous breeders are discarded like trash. They're no longer of use, so they kill them- or so I speculate- and discard them into the Wasteland.

Once you reach the ripe age of eighteen, you and your fellow eighteen-year-olds are taken to your district's Ceremony Hall for something called the 'Great Assignment'. During the Great Assignment, your career for life is chosen in a similar lottery style as the assigning of couples. When I turned eighteen, I was given a janitorial role. How quaint, am I right? I'm sure at this point you're probably thinking it's not so bad. Well, you'd be wrong. It's worse. There is no love, no friendship. Just fake, empty smiles and unknowingly forced happiness. No one says 'I love you' anymore. We have no friends. Even in your own home with your own family, you'll hardly know each other. Acknowledgment of one another is all but nonexistent. I suppose that's mostly the result of the many strict laws we're brainwashed into following.

Work days between spouses alternate. If the mare works Monday, the stallion works Tuesday and so on and so forth. On the days that one spouse is not working, they take care of the house. Cook, clean, shop for groceries, take care of the children, et cetera. Once children turn thirteen, parents pretty much stop raising them and make them care for themselves. Children go to school for eight hours a day, come home, complete their homework and then do their share of the chores. That pretty much entails cleaning their rooms and doing yard work. The only pastimes anypony is allowed is reading books approved by the Overmare and her Senate, sewing, knitting, approved puzzles, casual sports and board games. None of it is fun. Fun, love and friendship are essentially nonexistent now, just the way the Overmare likes it, I'm sure.

Oh, this has a time limit? I've only got three minutes left?? Seriously? Dammit. Fine, I'll make this quick. Erm, let's see. Ah, the Wasteland. Long story short, the Wasteland is the area beyond the walls of District Five. Everything they don't want a part of their cookie cutter society is discarded there, that includes ponies who have defected from the populace in one way or another. Any information or technologies from before Equestria became so cookie cutter is most likely there too. That's why, when I'm done with this recording, I'm packing up what belongings I have- mostly just food, maybe some puzzles- and I'm going to travel to the Wasteland. Everything I've explained thus far is all I've uncovered, but if I make it intact to the Wasteland and find something else to record with, I'll update my findings.

Right now, as I'm making this recording, the year is 2606. My husband is SD3-225718-71. My daughter is MD3-442389-91 and my son SD3-442343-91. I know once they realize I've disappeared, they'll send in a replacement wife and successfully manage to erase my existence from their memories. They might not have been birthed from my womb, but they are my children and I... love them. I love my husband too. They might not love me back, and that's okay. It's... it's not their fault, but I sincerely hope someday they'll stop to question what's going on around them. It's my sincere hope this fabricated, cookie cutter bullshit society comes to a crumble.

I think I'm just about out of time. This is MD3-225680-71... no. Freebird. This is Freebird signing off.

A Break In The Mold [Part Two]

The remainder of the school day was a nightmare. I'm not sure what I expected to happen, but time felt as if it had slowed to a crawl while the reality around crumbled bit by bit. So many questions continued to whirl through my mind at exhausting speeds. It feels as if that for every question that pops into my head, two more follow suit. It's mentally taxing, but I suppose I'm not in any position to complain. After all, I did choose to flush my pills down the toilet. Thankfully, I'm finally home and back in the comfort of my own home.

Although, it’s not exactly comfortable. Even though I’m home, the questions and realizations are still there. I feel a headache coming on now from all the thinking going on inside of my grey matter. To avoid raising my family’s suspicion, when I came home from school I did my homework and completed my daily chores. Washing part of the laundry, washing any dishes used up until that point in the day, watering the flower garden, sweeping the floors both upstairs and downstairs and wheeling the garbage can back to our house are my daily chores. Brother’s chores are essentially finishing what I start. He folds the laundry, puts up the newly cleaned dishes, weeds the garden, mops the floors and takes out the trash. It was very hard to concentrate on my chores with the vicious attack of questions assaulting my brain.

The silence hanging over the dinner table did nothing to help my resolve either. We sat there eating the dinner of gourmet salad and vegetable soup with glasses of carrot juice to drink that my mother had made for us. I wonder if I’m her flesh-and-blood child or an adopted one. Putting the two of us side-by-side, I look exactly like a younger version of her, but then, all mares of this district look the same. If my parents aren’t my real parents, who is? Would I ever meet them? Could I ever meet them? I try my hardest to hold back the sigh that desperately wants to escape my mouth.

I stab the last bit of my salad with my fork and shove it into my mouth. I place my empty bowl onto my empty plate and set the empty cup inside of the bowl.

“Now that you’re finished, go upstairs to my bedroom and get your dress from my bathroom,” Mother says, smiling happily at me.

“Why is it there?” I question, knowing my dresses are always put in my dresser.

“I noticed some of the lace had unstitched- probably from being washed- so I fixed it,” My mother explains “but then I noticed a couple stains, nothing noticeable from far off, so I had to treat them. I left it there to dry. It’s hanging on the rod the shower curtain is attached to.”

“Okay,” I simply say as I push away from the table.

“When you get it, go to your bathroom and start getting ready for the Great Assignment,” Mother instructs “442343, go ahead and eat, son. You need to start getting ready for the Great Assignment too.”

“Yes, mother,” 442343 says as he shovels another bite of salad into his mouth.

I trot over to the stairs and ascend to the second story of our house. I trot by my room, on the right, and brother’s, on the left, before arriving at mother’s bedroom, also on the left. I open the door and go inside. Her room looks exactly like mine except for a couple of details. Instead of shades of white, her room is painted in shades of beige. Instead of having minimalistic decorations, her room has a few paintings hanging on her wall. A painting of the Overmare hangs next to the bathroom door, a painting of the Wall and the Barrier hangs above the bed and paintings of flowers hang in different spots in the room. The paintings of the flowers make me feel calm, but the painting of the Wall and Barrier add newer questions to the flurry madly whirling around my head.

The Wall of Security and Magic Barrier are two things that keep out anything unwanted in our ‘perfect utopia’. The Wall of Security is, well, a wider, larger wall around District 5’s wall. As an added bonus, the Magic Barrier was put in to really make sure nothing came in. The Wall and Barrier not only keep out the ‘undesirables’ but also keeps us in. A wall surrounds every district and the only way to leave is through certain checkpoints built into them. The Wall, however, has no exit or entrance. The only way to get over any of these walls, especially the Wall of Security, is to somehow fly over or either teleport. Seeing how unicorns have no wings and the spells we can use are limited to telekinesis and illumination only, it’s seemingly impossible to escape. Even if somepony did manage to escape over the Wall, there’s no getting past the Magic Barrier, making any attempts of leaving pointless.

I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale as I open the bathroom and walk inside. Sure enough, my dress is hanging on the shower curtain rod. The dress is white with pastel pink lace trimmings. Oddly enough, I don’t recall staining my dress, but I don’t see why mother would lie about there being stains on my dress. Grabbing the dress with my magic, I turn around and proceed to trot out the bathroom. As I pass through the doorway, the right side of my body feels as if it’s being pulled and before I know it, I end up stumbling into the wall and knock down the Overmare painting.

I take a moment to regain my composure and stand up. I take a step back, preparing myself to place the picture onto its hook, but instead, find myself caught off guard by the small nook cut out into the wall. Inside is a notebook, a fountain pen, a computer disc and a folded sheet of notebook paper. Curious, I lay the dress down on the bed and remove the objects from the nook. I take a look inside of the notebook first. ‘MD3-225780-71 aka “Freebird” || 4-18-2606’ is written on the inside cover. The next page over is a drawing of what I can only assume is a map of some sort. For what or where it leads to, I have no idea. The rest of the journal is completely blank. The pen is, well, just a normal generic fountain pen like the ones we sometimes use in school.

I unfold the piece of paper and examine it. It’s a letter addressed to me in very small penmanship that reads:

“Dear MD3-442389-91,

I know you’re definitely surprised to be reading this. I’m sure by now you’re thoughts are plagued with an endless assault of questions. Everything you have known up until this point probably feels like a lie. You’re whole life probably feels like a lie too, but that’s because it is. You’re not my daughter, not my flesh and blood one at least. I’m not even your first mother. Yes, you read that right. I, MD3-225684-72, am not your first mother. Put this letter down for a moment and read the inside cover of the journal if you haven’t already. Come back to it when you’re done.

The name in the inside cover belongs to your first mother, but not even she is your birth mother. Whoever she is- or was- is a mystery. Infants are mass produced like the demon seeds we swallow without a thought. As a neonatal nurse, I care for these infants. As a neonatal nurse, it’s my job to tattoo them with meaningless serial numbers. As a neonatal nurse, I’ve seen what they do with the ‘breed mothers’ and ‘breed fathers’ after they’ve pumped out the maximum number of babies they can get out of them. The infants they ‘produce’ are assigned randomly to newly formed couples, but infants from the same birth parents are forbidden to be raised together.

Have you ever thrown a piece of paper into the trash, only for it to be taken away by the garbageponies and never to be seen again? Well, that’s exactly what they do to the breed parents. Half the time, they don’t even have the compassion to humanely end their lives before throwing them out into the Wasteland. The other half of the time, they dump them like garbage- still very much alive- into the Wasteland. Even if they do end their lives before dumping them, it’s not done humanely.

Instead of adding on to the mass of accumulating questions in your head, I’ll backtrack a bit and explain why you’re having these thoughts. The real reason you’re having these thoughts all of sudden is not because there’s something wrong with you and you’re starting to defect from their ‘societal norms’, but because I took the time in the middle of the night to open and dump out the contents of every single pill in both your container and mine. I was going to do the same to your ‘father’s and ‘brother’s pills, but I almost woke your father and decided against doing his. I decided to not push my luck by attempting to do your brothers either. I even went so far as to individually wash out the capsules so there was no residue left inside that might hinder the plan I’ve helped set into motion. I wish we could have escaped as a family- or at least, like the family they’ve made us believe we are.

I can understand if you feel a little… what’s the word… upset... by what I’ve done. I’m only doing what you’re first mother wanted. Truth be told, now that I’ve been… enlightened… I want this for you too. Both of us see something special in you. It’s hard to put into words, but we both feel as if you have what it takes to take down this faux utopia the Overmare has us trapped in. After reading this, we need you to escape somehow and fix this. It’s a lot to ask of you, I know. Please forgive us. I won’t be immediately joining you on your journey, but I promise I’ll do my best to catch up with you. I’m going to go to the Fertility House and create a distraction that should draw the attention of the district Blackcoats so that you may escape with relative ease.

In the same nook you’ve found these items, I found a message from your first mother. A CD and a series of letters (that I had to get rid of because your father almost found them). It’s been about two and a half months since I found them. I knew if I kept refusing my pills during this time period, its effects would wear off and I’d be found out. Your first mother wanted me to set on you the path to escape and save us when you turned eighteen. If I was to be found out before then, I would’ve failed her. So, I kept writing reminders every time I would remember the truth and put them in places I knew I’d find in a few days. Now that tonight is the Great Assignment and you’re finally eighteen, it’s time.

I’m sure you’ve seen the map drawn in the journal, considering it’s right next to the inside cover and the only other thing written in the journal. The scroll in the red circle is the Ceremony Hall, your starting point. You’re going to arrive early with your father and brother (side note: earlier I set all the clocks forward an hour to trick your father). I added something to your dress to allow you to hide your things with ease, but you’re going to need sustenance on your journey. Can’t save Equestria on an empty stomach… or dying from starvation.. and dehydration.

I know reading this letter will take a bit of time, so right now I’m packing you food to last you a good while in your saddlebags. Bringing flowers to the Overmare is a common thing seen during past Great Assignments, especially in large quantities. Meaning, as long as some flowers are sticking out of your saddlebag, they won’t search it. I’ll be taking some of my flowers from my garden and placing them on top of your food. This brings me to the next part of the plan. Once there, you and your classmates will wait backstage until it’s time for the Great Assignment. Go to the bathroom and make sure you’re the only one there. If another filly is, just wait until she leaves. When you’re sure you’re alone, hide your saddlebag in the ceiling. The panels can be removed easily. Put the panel back and leave.

Wait around until it’s time to go onto the stage. Since the coming-of-age ponies who bring flowers always give them to the Overmare as they’re coming onto the stage, inform the teacher you left yours in the restroom when you went. They never wait on a student who’s either late or has to retrieve something, so they’ll move on without you. The teacher or teachers will move onto the stage and the curtain will be partially closed. This will give you a very small window to retrieve your saddlebags and quietly leave out the back door. The rest of the map has icons that will point to certain landmarks. I don’t have much room left so I won’t go into detail about them. You’re a smart mare, you’ll figure it out.

I know it probably all sounds and feels overwhelming, but please bare with it. Your first mother and I have both separately found indications that those sent to the Wasteland in past years are most likely still alive. Ponies, garbage, and anything considered to be unnecessary by any means is sent to the Wasteland. This means it’s plausible that the land in Wasteland is still fertile and that the leftover seeds in the fruit and vegetables could be planted by anypony still alive when sent to the Wasteland. Your first mother believes there’s a great number of ponies thriving outside of the Overmare’s society, which means you won’t be alone.

It’ll take a few days, perhaps a week, to reach the Wasteland. Take care not to get caught. Try to be swift about it, but at the same time be cautious, even if it means waiting a few days and taking longer. Perhaps on your way, you’ll find some ponies who are defecting also and trying to escape. If you do, bring them with you. The more the merrier, as they say. However, you will definitely need as many abled body ponies as possible to overthrow the Overmare. Interesting fact I found the other day when snooping on one of the Blackcoat’s computers; apparently, there’s been a rise in the number of ponies defect each year, this year being the highest than other. This is good news. Hopefully, that means you will find ponies on your journey to the Wasteland.

Well, I’ve completed my part of the plan. Get you started, give you instructions, advice and a little bit of help. Your first mother will tell you the rest when you reach the Wasteland. If somehow you lose the journal, please remember the name ‘Freebird’. That’s the name- an actual name instead of a bunch of numbers- your first mother gave to herself. I’m not sure what she’ll look like now. When the pills wear off, the end result supposedly reveals what you truly look like. After all, the pills are given to use to alter our appearance, our minds, our voice, our everything. They make us susceptible to mind control. They make us easier to control. There are probably some side effects to the pills wearing off. Your first mother seemed to think so, at least.

You may not be my flesh and blood child, but I still love you, darling. You'll be a trailblazer for a new Equestria, forging the path to a better, truer life for all of us. We weren't like this almost six centuries ago. We weren't meant to be the same, always equal. We were meant to be different. This facade has to end. End it, darling. Do it for yourself, your children, your brother, your father, for both your mothers. Please. Remember, you won’t be alone. You can do this. I know you can. Believe in yourself. Fight this nightmare the Overmare has created. While you’re out there, far away from home. Remember, I love you and your first mother does too.

Love,

MD3-225684-72 Liberty Belle

PS: I realize I cannot make you do any of this. I realize how much risk and danger this is putting you in. I can understand if you’re hesitant or unwilling to do this. After this, go to your room. When you get to your room, call for me to ‘help choose an approved manestyle for the Great Assignment ceremony’ if you decide to do this. If you decide not to, I won’t push it onto you. I’ll gladly go in your stead. Simply say nothing when you reach your room if you decide not to.

PSS: I know this was a lot to read, but I know how fast of a reader you are. Remember, I love you.”

I find myself at a loss for words. For once today, my mind is unable to churn out any more questions and the ones already there cease their whirling. I shake my head and stare at the letter. It’s so much to take in. I don’t even know what do with half of this information. The only thing I can almost just barely think of is why. A big, generalized why to everything. My mother, who isn’t even my first nor real mother, wants me to not only escape the districts and go to the Wasteland but to start a revolution? They see something special in me, but what? Why do they think they I’m capable of completing such a monumental task?

I want to be angry with my ‘mother’. I really do. I want to refuse to do this. Really, I truly do, but what would be the point in getting angry or refusing to do this for my mothers? As much as I want to, it seems pointless. What would I gain from not doing this for them, for myself? Absolutely nothing. I don't want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to live a manufactured, manipulated life. The more I think about it, the more I don’t want anypony to live like this either. It’ll no doubt be a long journey, fraught with a number of dangers and setbacks. Despite that, I’ll do it. It’s like mother said in her letter, I won’t be alone. At least, hopefully, I won’t be.

With my new resolve and mission in my mind and heart, I replace the painting, grab my dress with my magic and make my way to my room, being sure to hide the found items beneath the dress as I do so. I trot into my bathroom and hide the items I found beneath the sink cabinet. I hang the dress on the curtain rod in my bathroom and then leave. I trot to do the bedroom door and poke my head into the hallway. What was it she wanted me to say again? Oh, yes. I remember.

“Mother?” I call, raising my voice to ensure she hears me.

“Yes, darling?” Mother calls back.

I see her appear at the bottom of the stairs with a smile on her face and relief in her eyes. I smile back at her and gesture for her to come to me. Without missing a beat, she quickly comes up the stairs.

“I need help in choosing an approved manestyle for the Great Assignment ceremony,” I say, smiling a bit more.

“Let’s go to your bathroom and get you ready,” Mother says with a wink.

“I’ll lead the way,” I say, turning around and trotting over to the bathroom door.

I look back at mother, who closes the door behind herself.

“For privacy,” She says, winking again.

I give her a small chuckle and trot inside the bathroom.

“What did you do with the items you found?” She questions as she trots in behind me.

“I put them underneath the cabinet while I went to call you up here,” I answer, opening the cabinet.

“I’m so happy you’ve decided to this,” Mother says, lowering her voice.

“I couldn’t see any benefits from choosing not to,” I say, lowering my voice too “besides, I think I’m starting to see just how much of a messed up life we’ve all been living.”

“I’m glad you can see the truth, darling,” Mother says as she hugs me “are upset with me?”

“I couldn’t find a good reason to be,” I say, returning the hug “with you or my first mother.”

“It’s a shame your other mothers aren’t here to see what a fine mare you’ve grown to be,” Mother says, pulling away and looking at the floor “as glad as I am you’re willing to do this, I can’t help but feel bad. Technically speaking, I manipulated you into this state of mind, then asked you to take on such a tremendous task and do part of it alone.”

“Don’t feel bad, mother, I’m glad you did it,” I say reassuringly “change doesn’t happen on its own. Something- or somepony- has to start the process.”

Mother looks up at me and chuckles, a smile returning to her face.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Mother says “alright, let’s get started on getting you ready.”

I watch as mother brings my dress over to us. She removes the hanger and puts it in the sink. She flips the dress inside out and shows me the pockets she’s created.

“I put two pockets, but I suppose you would probably only need to use one,” Mother says “you could place my letter and the CD inside the journal for safekeeping and just put the pen next to the journal. Just don’t sit down near anypony. They’ll be visible if you do.”

Mother flips the dress outside in and helps me put it on. After a bit of adjusting, I give mother a showy twirl.

“Beautiful and smart,” Mother says “your first mother will be just as proud of you as I am.”

“You said you were going to cause a distraction at the Fertility House,” I say “what do you plan on doing?”

“Oh, nothing major. I’m just going to blow the generator and set the whole building on fire,” Mother says with a chuckle.

“That sounds pretty major to me,” I say “what about all the ponies used for breeding and all the infants? Are you going to leave them there?”

“Firstly, I was joking, sweetheart,” Mother says “secondly, I’m going to evacuate them all first. The sewer system would definitely lead to the Wasteland- or I should hope- so I’m going to send them there. Once I finish destroying the place, I’m going to join them in the sewers and lead them to you.”

“Be careful, mother. Don’t get yourself killed,” I say “I need you.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t planning on getting myself killed,” Mother says “but if something should happen to me and I lose my life, I want you to know that I’ll die not only happy but for a good cause.”

“If I’m caught on my way out of the districts, should I fight them and try to escape?” I question.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, but if it does, then yes,” Mother answers “even if it means you have to resort to… killing them… do whatever you can to escape.”

“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to,” I say dishearteningly.

“I don’t believe most ponies are ever truly prepared to kill another living being,” Mother says “but sometimes, we have to make hard decisions that might seem or feel wrong, but need to be done.”

“I guess you’re right,” I say “but as you said, let’s hope that it doesn’t happen.”

“Let’s do something with your mane and tail real quick,” Mother says, picking up my brush “what style do you want it in? Or would you rather keep it like it is?”

I look at myself in the mirror and hum quietly. I try to imagine what I would look like with the approved manestyles.

“I think I’d look the best with the high ponytail style,” I say, looking at mother.

“I think you’d look wonderful with any manestyle,” Mother says, “but high ponytail it is, then. Turn around, darling.”

I turn around and let mother fix my mane and tail. I look back at mother and watch her flip the end of my dress onto my loin. She pulls out the hair tie holding tail bun in place and lets it all fall down. Mother works quickly to thoroughly brush my tail and secure it higher up on my dock, then flip my dress back down over it. She pulls the hair tie holding my mane together in a neat bun and sets it on the counter. Mother brushes it thoroughly and swiftly, securing it in a ponytail high on my head and then quickly styles my bangs in a cute fashion.

“Done and done,” Mother says “turn and face me.”

“How do I look?” I ask as I face her.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Mother replies, grinning happily at me “now let's get downstairs before we’re ‘late’ for the ceremony.”

She winks at me before turning around and trotting out the bathroom.

“Oh, and don’t forget the stuff you hid under the sink,” She says, looking back at me.

I open the cabinet and slip the CD and mother’s letter into the journal, then slip them along with the pen into one of the pockets mother sewed into the dress. I quickly join mother and follow her downstairs. My father and brother are sitting at the table dressed smartly in tuxedos.

“You look lovely, darling,” Father says to me, smiling happily.

“Thank you, father,” I say, smiling back.

“You wanted to bring the Overmare flowers, right, 442389?” Mother questions.

“Yes, mother,” I answer, looking over at her.

“I’ll go fetch you some from the garden,” Mother says as she trots over to the glass sliding door.

I watch her open it and disappear out to the left. She comes back a few minutes later with a saddlebag that- to the unsuspecting- appeared filled up with a variety of garden flowers.

“These are the best ones in the garden,” Mother says “they’ll please the Overmare without a doubt.”

“2256842, why aren’t you dressed and ready for the ceremony?” Father questions.

“I got a message earlier from the Fertility House manager. He said he needs me to come in and care for an infant that was born prematurely while they figure out what to do,” Mother explains “so, unfortunately, I’ll be unable to attend tonight’s ceremony.”

“It can’t wait until after the ceremony?” Father probes further.

“Honey, you know absolutely nothing about premature infants, do you?” Mother counters, her tone sounding a bit annoyed “an infant born prematurely is not yet as fully developed as one born full term. They require more attention and care for a number of reasons. So no, a premature infant cannot wait until a six-hour ceremony is over with.”

I stare at mother, trying my best to hide my disbelief at how good of a liar she is. I look over at father, who sighs as he rises from the table.

“I’ll let you know how it went whenever we all return home,” Father says, trotting over to the door.

442343 rises from the table and follows after father. With their backs turned to mother and me, we look at each other and wink. We trot over to father and 442343 and follow them outside. A bus is parked idly down the road a bit from our house. Together, we all go over and board the bus. A couple of families are already on the bus and ready to go the Great Assignment.

“Let’s sit in the back,” Mother says.

Father nods and leads us to the back of the bus. Father and 442343 sit together on the door side of the bus. I take a seat across from them and look around for mother, who I find speaking with the bus driver. I presume she’s explaining she’s need to be at the Fertility House as soon as possible to ‘care for an infant born prematurely’. I watch the bus driver nod at mother, who smiles and makes her way to father, 442343 and I. She takes a seat next to me and drapes a foreleg around my shoulders. The bus driver closes the door and takes us further into the district.

The bus ride is somewhat quiet, with only a bit of small talk here and there. Mostly mother telling me about her job. Six minutes later, the bus pulls to a stop in front of a hospital-esque building with a sign reading ‘District 3 Fertility House’. The door opens and mother rises from her seat. She looks at me and smiles. ‘Be careful’, I mouth. ‘I will. Love you, darling’, She mouths back. Before I can mouth ‘I love you’ back, mother trots down the aisle and exits the bus. The door closes behind her and we drive away from the Fertility House.

A few short minutes later and we arrive at the Ceremony Hall. It’s a theater-esque building. The only indication that this was, indeed, the Ceremony Hall, was the large marquee letters that spelled out the words ‘Ceremony Hall’. The bus door swings open and we exit the bus in an orderly manner. We file into the Ceremony Hall lobby and stand around for a moment. Father gives 442343 and I short farewell before joining the other parents in the audience. 442343 and I follow the other eighteen-year-olds to the backstage area of the Ceremony Hall. The area is large with many dressing rooms and separate bathrooms for mares and stallions.

I remember what mother had said in her letter and make my way to the bathroom. After ensuring I was the only filly in the restroom, I go into the last stall and close the door behind me. I quickly remove the corner panel and remove my saddlebags. I float them up into the dark hole and put the panel back into place. I feel my heart to start to race a little as I begin to feel a little nervous. I really hope things go smoothly. Taking in a calming breath and exhaling slowly, I exit the bathroom and wait until it’s time to go onto the stage.

After what feels like an eternity, two teachers come out into the backstage area and order us to line up. I fall in line and wait until I reach one of the teachers. Thankfully, I’m somewhat towards the back of the line. As I start to pass one of the teachers, I fake realizing I’ve forgotten my flowers for the Overmare and step out of line.

“Pardon me, but I’ve forgotten my flowers for the Overmare,” I say apologetically, “I think I left them in the restroom.”

“Go ahead and get them,” One of the teachers- a stallion- says “be warned, we will not wait for you to return. When you get out, give your flowers to the Overmare, apologize and we’ll show you to your spot.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I say before trotting away.

My nervousness starts to melt away after how remarkably easy it was to fool to the teachers. I guess years of manipulation makes you fall for any lie told to you. I trot into the bathroom and wait around for a couple of minutes before taking the corner panel in the last stall out of place and removing my saddlebags. I put the panel back in place and secure my saddlebags around my waist. I wait another minute or so before going over to the door and crack the door open a bit. I quickly scan the area and make sure the coast is clear before trotting out.

With a small sigh, I look around for the exit. After spotting, I begin to quickly make my way over to it.

“Where exactly are you going?” A feminine voice questions, making me freeze in my tracks.

I turn around and nervously face the source of the voice. It belongs to a mare my age who I presume has arrived late to the ceremony. Her forelegs are unobscured by her dress, so I take a quick glance down at her serial number. MD3-442388-91. That’s three times we’ve run into each other today. I can’t help but feel as if destiny we keep doing so.

“Would you believe me if I told you?” I counter, giving her a nervous chuckle.

“You aren’t attempting to leave the ceremony and escape, are you?” 442388 presses, stepping closer to me.

“So what if I am? What are you going to do?” I counter once again.

“Tell somepony, obviously,” She says, rolling her eyes.

“I thought earlier you said didn’t want to take yourself down in the process of exiling somepony?” I question, smirking a bit.

442388 pauses and stares at me for a moment. Her eyes drift down to my left foreleg. She gasps in shock and realization, but then quickly looks up at me and narrows her eyes harshly at me.

“Oh, it’s you. Again,” She says, clearly annoyed “you planned this didn’t you?”

“Planned to escape and start a revolution or planned to keep bumping into you?” I question, smirking a bit more.

“To start a revo- obviously I meant bumping into me and knowing that I don’t want to be exiled too,” 442388 huffs “and you? Start a revolution? You and what army?”

“We’ll find out when we get to the Wasteland, now won’t we?” I ask confidently.

“Wait, what do you mean be ‘we’?” She counters, aghast.

“I mean you and me,” I say “you… you really think they’re not going to exile you for ratting me out?”

“You little-” I cut quickly cut her off with an ‘ab ba bup’ and a raise of my hoof.

“Look, 442388. You and I both know that they’re going to exile you if you rat me out,” I say “they’re going to take every precaution necessary to make sure word never reaches the masses about this. I know their true thought process.”

442388 stares at me and makes a gesture for me to continue on with my explanation.

“Even if you rat me out to them, because you’ve interacted and actively engaged with me several times prior to my disappearance, they’ll still make you out to be a criminal too,” I continue “what’s the proper term? ‘Guilty by association’?”

I watch 442388 grit her teeth as she stomps at the floor and looks away. I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she figures out her course of action. After a minute or two, she looks up at me and glares.

“Fine. I… I guess you have point, 442389,” She says defeatedly “go on, then. Lead the way.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” I say, trotting over to the back door.

“I want to make this clear to you,” 442388 begins “just because I’m coming along does not mean I’m going to help you with your little… revolution.”

“I think you’ll end up changing your mind,” I say as I push open the door.

“The probability of that occurring is highly unlikely,” She says bitterly.

I roll my eyes as I step out into the dimly lit alleyway behind the Ceremony Hall. The only thing providing a source of light is the moon above, shining through the Magic Barrier and sweeping Equestria in her beautiful glow. 442388 closes the door behind her and trots up beside me.

“Do you have a map or an actual plan to get out of here?” She questions doubt clear in her voice.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say, pulling the journal from my dress pocket.

A small look of surprise finds its way onto 442388’s face like she truly believed I was doing this unprepared. I open the journal and try to find where we needed to go next. A twisting line was drawn from the image indicating the Ceremony Hall to the image of a flower. A flower? Let’s see. What building would associate with a flower?

“The florist shop!” I exclaim aloud.

“Wh-what?” 442388 questions as she jumps back, caught off guard by my sudden outburst.

“The florist shop. That’s where we’ve got to go from here,” I explain before galloping away, doing my best to follow the line drawn in the journal.

“H-hey! Wait for me!” 442388 exclaims as she gallops after me.

After making our way through several other alleyways, we arrive at the one behind the florist shop. With some help from 442388, I identify our next target: District 3’s School of General Learning. Before I can close the journal, 442388 points to the next target drawn on the map.

“Is that a house? Which house are we supposed to go to?” 442388 questions “the line just goes to the picture of the house and then goes on until it gets to this picture of a checkered flag.”

“I think it’s just supposed to represent the residential area of the district,” I answer “and the flag must be the checkpoint.”

“How exactly are we going to get through the checkpoint? It’ll be swarming with Blackcoats,” 442388 says “and then all of this will be for naught. Er, not that I care or anything.”

I open my mouth to answer her question, but I’m interrupted by the sound of a large explosion. 442388 and I trot out of the alleyway and look up at the balls of fire flying through the air.

“What on Equus was that?!” 442388 exclaims.

“She did it,” I mutter “she pulled it off.”

“Who?! What did ‘she’ do?!” 442388 questions frantically.

“My mother,” I answer “she blew up the Fertility House. The fire she started and the blowing of the generator created a massive explosion to attract the attention of the district Blackcoats.”

“She… she blew up the Fertility House?! What about all the-” I cut 442388 off again.

“She evacuated them first, now come on, we don’t have time to stall,” I say, galloping away.

“You and your mother are absolutely insane, you know that?!” 442388 exclaims as she gallops alongside me “not only do you both- I presume- plan on escaping and starting a revolution, but you blow up a Fertility House in the process?!”

“Do you want to make it through that checkpoint or not, 442388?” I snap, glaring at her.

“I- well- er,” 442388 stammers “why did I agree to join you on your asinine adventure?!”

I roll my eyes at her as I continue to make my way to the school building. As we approach the school, the sound of sirens rapidly approaching our direction greets my ears. We’re across the street and I don’t think we’ll make across and behind the school in time. I frantically look around and spot a dumpster nearby.

“Blackcoats!” I exclaim “we need to hide! Follow me!”

I gallop over to the dumpster and open the lid with my magic. Without hesitation, I climb inside and land on an uncomfortably squishy bag of garbage. I look up to see 442388 looking down at me with a look of disgust on her face.

“You seriously expect me to hide in the garbage?!” She questions in pure disgust.

“Get in, you idiot! You’ll get us caught!” I hiss, pulling her partially into the dumpster with my magic.

She makes a noise of surprise as she falls into the dumpster, landing face first on the bag of garbage next to me. I quickly close the lid and listen out closely for the sirens. The inside of the dumpster becomes pitch black after I close the lid. I can hear 442388 rustling around beside me as she tries to adjust her position.

“This is absolutely appalling! You’ve not only ruined my dress but now I smell like a rotten landfill!” She exclaims.

I reach out in the darkness and feel around for her head.

“What are you- OW!!” She howls as I smack her upside the head “what in the hay was that for?!”

“Shut up and quit complaining!” I say in a harsh whisper “you’re whining is going to get us caught!”

“I hate you so much, 442389,” 442388 whispers.

Despite the pitch blackness around us, I’m almost certain 442388 has crossed her forelegs and is pouting angrily. She’ll get over it. I turn my attention back to the sound of the sirens. They sound like they’re almost on top of us. A few moments later, the sirens become almost unbearably loud and nearly covers the sound of multiple tires crunching against the pavement. I partially cover my ears to soften to the noise as I wait for them to become distant again. After what feels like an eternity, I push the lid open a bit and take a peek outside. I watch the final Blackcoat car disappear around a corner a good ways down the street. With a sigh of relief, I climb out of the dumpster and trot to the edge of the street.

“If we have to hide in any more disgusting places, I’m going to murder you,” 442388 growls as she climbs out of the dumpster.

She loses her grip and balance and ends up tumbling to the ground, landing face first yet again with a loud ‘eep’. I try my best not to laugh, but a chuckle manages to slip by and out my mouth.

“Clumsy much?” I question as another chuckle escapes my lips.

I watch as she stands and dusts herself off. Her mane is now messy and a few garbage juices stain her dress.

“Shut up,” 442388 grumbles as she trots up to me, glaring all the while.

I let out another chuckle as I gallop across the street. We make our way behind the school and pull out the map again.

“I don’t suppose we have the time to go inside and shower, do we?” 442388 questions as she covers her nose with a hoof “because we smell awful.”

“No, we don’t,” I answer, looking down at the map “not right now, at least.”

“Can’t we stop at your house or something and take a quick shower? Perhaps change clothes?” She questions further.

“No, it won’t do us any good,” I answer sternly “at some point or another, we’ll need to go into the sewers in order to get out. It would be pointless to shower and change clothes, then turn around and go into the sewers.”

“Besides, we probably won’t be wearing these clothes for long anyway,” I quickly add.

“This is insufferable,” 442388 grumbles as she kicks a pebble with a hoof.

“You’re just going to have to get over it, 442388,” I say in an annoyed tone “I never said once that this was going to be an easy journey. It’s going to be hard, probably dangerous too because they’re certainly not going to just let us go without trying to stop us.”

She mutters something beneath her breath as she trots away from me. 442388 stops and kicks around loose pebbles while she waits for me.

“I think our best course of action would be to quietly cut through the backyards of the houses in the residential area,” I say, trotting up to 442388 “not everypony in the area has eighteen-year-olds, so a lot of families are still home. We’ve got be as quiet as can possibly be. The fences are short, so we should be able to just jump over them with ease.”

“Well, ease for me, at least,” I add with a snicker “you seem to have trouble staying on your hooves.”

“You’re going to have trouble thinking if you don’t shut up,” 442388 snaps as she glares at me.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” I ask.

“No, why?” She questions suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you seem to have a stick up your plot,” I snicker, sticking my tongue out at her.

“Erg! Come here, you little snake!” 442388 exclaims, charging at me.

I can’t help but chuckle as I gallop away from her. By the time we reach the residential area of the district, 442388 has thankfully calmed down and no longer desires to injure me. For the time being, at least. All this galloping has worn me out and my mouth and throat feel dryer than a desert. I sneak up to the closest house and peer inside. All of the lights are off and there seems to be nopony inside. Of course, they could be upstairs sleeping, but, after stepping far enough back to see through the upstairs windows, it seems that the house is totally vacant. I look over at 442388 and gesture for her come over to me. With a little hesitation, she gallops over and looks at me.

“Go see if the sliding glass door is unlocked,” I say, gesturing to the door.

442388 looks from me to the door, then back at me glaring once more.

“You called me over to make me check the door when you were already over here?!” She exclaims in a harsh whisper.

“Hey, I’m just the brains of the operation, you’re the brawn who does the grunt work,” I say jokingly “even if you are clumsy.”

“I’m not clumsy!” She huffs through gritted teeth as she kicks a rock at me.

“But you are the brawn doing the grunt work, then?” I question.

Her glare fades away as she takes a moment to think about it. Her glare returns just as quickly as it had gone.

“No!” She exclaims in a harsh whisper.

“Go check the door, 442388,” I say with a chuckle.

442388 begrudgingly trots over the sliding glass door and pulls on it to see if it’s locked or not. When she pulls on it, the door slides open.

“It’s unlocked,” She says in a huffy tone of voice.

“See, I couldn’t have done this without you,” I say, winking at her.

For a moment, she looks as if she’s having trouble processing how to feel about the win I gave her or how to respond. In the end, she just rolls her eyes at me. I trot inside and immediately go over to the kitchen. I pull out to glasses from an overhead cabinet and fill them up with water. I give a glass to 442388 using my magic as we sit on the floor. She immediately begins to chug down the water, clearly just as thirsty as I am. I can’t help but smile and chuckle at her. I chug down my glass of water as well and pour myself another. I sip on it as I watch 442388 refills hers.

“I know we hardly know each other and aren’t exactly on the best of terms,” I begin “but I’m really glad you decided to come along with me. I was expecting to travel this journey alone, but I’m glad to have somepony with me. So, thank you, 442388.”

442388 suddenly chokes on her water and coughs a bit. Judging by her reaction, she was probably caught completely off guard by the comment. After regaining her composure, she clears her throat and looks away from me. If my eyes are working correctly, I believe I see a slight blush form on her cheeks as she does so.

“I don’t see why you’re thanking me,” She grumbles, obviously flustered “you basically tricked me into coming with you, but… it’s whatever. I guess… just a little bit… I’m slightly- but not totally- kind of, sort of glad that I came too. So… You’re welcome, I guess.”

“So, we friends then?” I ask, giving her a big smile.

442388 glances at me for a moment, then looks away again.

“I guess so,” She grumbles, sipping at her water.

“Good!” I exclaim, happily clapping my hooves together “we’re probably the first pair of friends in Equestria since the Overmare took over!”

“Just because I said we were friends doesn’t change anything,” 442388 says, looking over at me with a smirk “I’m still gonna murder you for making fun of me.”

“I think you’re full of hot air,” I say, smirking back at her.

“Is that so?” She questions as stands up and steps closer.

“Totally so,” I answer, standing and stepping closer to her.

“Just you wait. As soon you’re asleep, I’m gonna remove your kidneys and boil your teeth,” She jokes, stepping even closer.

“That’s slightly unsettling, but I still think you’re full of it,” I joke back, stepping closer to her even more.

By now, our faces are only a few inches apart. 442388 looks away as she places a hoof on my chest and pushes me away.

“Too close,” She mumbles, looking at me without moving her head.

“Are you hungry?” I question, brushing her hoof off my chest.

“If by hungry you mean if my stomach feels like it’s eating itself, then yes, I’m hungry,” 442388 answers.

“I have food in my saddlebags, but let’s save that for when we’re… I dunno, in the sewers, I guess,” I say, trotting over to the fridge “I’m sure whoever lives here won’t mind us borrowing some food.”

“By ‘borrow’, do you mean literally or are you-” I cut 442388 off once again.

“I was joking,” I say “you know what happens to food after you eat it, right?”

“Shut up,” 442388 grumbles.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” I ask as I look through the fridge.

“I swear to the Senate if you ask me if I have a stick up my plot,” She begins.

“You’re gonna murder me, I know,” I finish “but this time I was genuinely asking if you had to use the bathroom. I’m gonna fix us some sandwiches and while I’m doing that you can use it if you need to. There won’t be any more trips to an actual bathroom after this. Not for a long while.”

“Oh,” 442388 says in a non-hostile tone “yeah, I’ve gotta use it, actually. I’ll be back.”

“Hey, look for another saddlebag while you’re up there,” I say as she walks away “we can use it to pack more food for the journey ahead.”

“Can I take a shower while I’m at it?” She asks “I still smell like I’ve been swimming in a landfill.”

I glance up at the nearby clock and sigh.

“Make it super quick, we don’t have the luxury of taking our time,” I reply “use the bathroom, wash, dry off, get the saddlebag and come back down.”

“Don’t you want to take one too? Also, please tell me you’re going to wash your hooves before you make us anything to eat,” 442388 says as she climbs the first few stairs.

“I’ll take one after you get back down here,” I say “and I’m not daft 442388. Of course, I’m going to wash my hooves.”

“I’ll find us new dresses to wear while I’m at,” 442388 says happily.

“There’s no point in putting- aw, screw it. You’re gonna do it anyways,” I say defeatedly.

442388 laughs as she trots upstairs. I go over to the sink, wash my hooves thoroughly and dry them off before going back over to the fridge. I pull out enough ingredients to make us a variety of sandwiches. I use the entire loaf of bread and pack the sandwiches into paper lunch bags. I pack the remaining ingredients into paper bags as salads for us. I get to thinking about our hydration situation and try to figure out how to bring more water with us.

During the bus ride, mother had leaned over and whispered that she found canteens and filled them with water. It’s unlikely this house would have any canteens, so how would we take water with us? I search through the cabinets for anything useful, but I only find sealable plastic bags in two different sizes. I pull them out and think about how I can use them. I suppose I could fill the smaller bags with water and place them in the larger bags to prevent spills and leaks. Yeah, that’ll work.

I set to work filling all the small bags with water and fully seal them, check to make sure they don’t leak and then place two into one large sealable bag. I put a total thirty-two smalls bags into sixteen large bags, then use some of the remaining large bags to double seal the small bags. I decide to fill two large bags with water to use in case we might need to boil something. Hopefully not my teeth- or my kidneys for that matter. I chuckle as I try to double seal the large bags of water with what bags I have left. I trot away from my hard work and go upstairs.

“442388?” I call out.

“What?” Her voice calls back.

“What are you doing?” I call out again.

“Drying off. Are you done?” She calls back.

“Yeah. We’re going to need another saddlebag besides the extra one we need,” I call back.

“Okay, hold on. I’ll be out in a minute,” She calls back.

A couple of minutes later, 44238 emerges from one of the rooms wearing a new dress and holding a saddlebag with her magic.

“I emptied this one, will it work?” She questions, waving the saddlebag around.

“Like a charm,” I say “go find another will I quickly shower.”

“Use the one in this room,” 442388 says, gesturing to the room she had come from “I found a dress for you too before I got in. It’s laying on the bed.”

“Okay, thanks. What’d you do with your old one?” I ask.

“Stuffed it under the bed,” 442388 replies with a smirk.

“Good move,” I say semi-sarcastically as I trot over to her.

“I’ll go find a second one while you shower,” She says as she trots past me.

I trot into the room 442388 had showered in and make my way to the bathroom. I pause for a moment and look over at the bed. I remove my saddlebag and place it on the floor. I remove my dress and the items in the pockets. I put the items on the floor and the dress under the bed. I look around the room quickly for some string that I could use to turn the new dress into a makeshift bag of sorts to carry the items given to be me by my mother. Luckily, I spot some sitting on a desk nearby and bring it over with my magic. I carefully place my stuff inside the new dress and wrap the dress around it. I tie the string around it where it’s secure but can easily be undone with a simple tug, then cut off the excess string.

I place my saddlebags and makeshift bag onto the bed as I head into the bathroom and quickly shower. Thankfully, the hot water takes no time in warming and cascades from the showerhead onto my skin. I lather up a blue loofa I found and thoroughly but quickly wash my body. The warm water feels relaxing and soothing. I suddenly realize this will probably be last real shower for a long while. While I wash the soap from my body, I take the time to cherish every drop while it lasts. Sadly, my final shower comes to an end and I cut the water off. I get out and grab a nearby towel with my magic and dry myself off. Wasting no time, I toss the towel onto the rack and canter out of the room.

I go over to the bed and secure my saddlebag around my waist. Holding my makeshift bag with my magic, I canter out the room and go downstairs. I go over to 442388, who has one saddlebag around her waist and is packing another with cooking and eating essentials.

“Save some room for this,” I say, placing my makeshift bag onto the counter.

“What’s that?” 442388 questions.

“My journal and other stuff that I wrapped in that dress,” I answer “and then tied it with a string with an adjustable knot.”

“I got the food and the bagged waters into the saddlebag I’m wearing,” 442388 says “and I put the bigger bags of water into one side and put the cups I wrapped protectively with them. I put a couple of pans, plates, bowls and eating utensils into the other side. Did I do good?”

“Absolutely, thank you,” I say “just put my stuff in there where it won’t get damaged. We’re definitely overstaying our welcome.”

“Time to get a move on, then?” 442388 questions.

“If we want to put an end to all this, then yeah,” I answer “time to get a move on.”

“Perhaps on the way you could enlighten me on exactly what it is we’re putting an end to,” 442388 says.

“I will gladly do so,” I say “now let’s get going.”

I trot over to the sliding glass door and peek outside, then trot out onto the lawn and wait for 442388. She quickly follows behind me, taking care to close the sliding door behind her. She nods at me to continue leading our journey. Without hesitation, I begin galloping over the fence and jump over it. 442388 quickly follows suit and manages to not fall flat on her face for once. I chuckle quietly to myself as I gallop across the next yard.

Time is not my friend tonight, as once again, what feels like an eternity passes by. We finally reach the end of the residential area. I feel almost twice as thirsty as I was before and the sandwiches we munched on while making our way through the area feels like they’ve worn off. We rest for a while behind a shed and replenish our spent energy with more sandwiches and a bag of water each. We discard our waste in the shed and continue on our way, albeit at a slower pace. As we do so, I explain what I know about our situation thus far.

We make our way through the district outer commercial area. All is going well into a voice calls out to us. We freeze in our tracks and look at each other.

“Stop right there! Where are you young ponies going?” The voice calls out.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Great Assignment ceremony?” Another voice calls out.

“Blackcoats?! I thought your mother bought us time with the explosion?!” 442388 whispers to me frantically.

“I thought so too!” I whisper back, just as frantic “maybe a few stayed behind?! Don’t panic, I’ll think of something!”

“Hurry, then!” 442388 whispers.

She bites her lip as we turn to face the Blackcoats. There are four in total. Two are mares and two are stallions. Despite the smiles etched into their masks, I can tell by their voices that they aren’t happy to see us.

“Hello, officers,” I say “we’ve already been given our jobs and we noticed we had some leftover flowers. We were given permission to leave early and bring them to the Blackcoats watching the checkpoint.”

“Yes, despite the explosion that devastated the Fertility House, we were told many Blackcoats had bravely stayed behind to watch the checkpoint vigilantly,” 442388 adds “they were deserving of the flowers without a doubt.”

The Blackcoats look at each other, clearly doubting the authenticity of our story. They look back at us and one of them- one of the mares- steps forward.

“If that were the case, we’d had been informed of your arrival,” She says, stepping forward some more.

“They haven’t told you yet?” I question, taking a step back.

“It was really busy at the Ceremony Hall before we left,” 442388 says, stepping back along with me “between calming us down and trying to move on with Great Assignment, they were pretty busy. Perhaps they forgot?”

“If your story is true, then you won’t mind coming with us while we check the authenticity of your story,” The mare says, taking another step.

“Can’t we just give you the flowers and we’ll be on our way?” 442388 questions.

“Why? Does your story not check out?” The mare counters in a snarky tone as she takes another few steps towards us.

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble, officers,” I say, taking the flowers out of my saddlebag “here, just take the flowers, and we’ll leave.”

The mare takes the flowers from me with her tomato colored magic and throws them to the ground.

“You really think we’re that stupid, huh?” The mare questions with a snicker.

Her coworkers trot up next to her and snicker along with her.

“We know defects when we see them,” One of the stallions says.

“Get ‘em boys!” The mare exclaims.

With a couple of howls and some cackling, the Blackcoats charge at us. 442388 and I both let out a scream as we turn around and flee. We’re just barely faster than the Blackcoats chasing after us.

“What do we do?!” 442388 questions, panic clear in her voice “they’ll kill us for sure!”

“Sometimes we have to make hard decisions that might seem or feel wrong, but need to be done,” I answer, looking back the Blackcoats then at her “we need to get rid of them.”

“But how?! They’re stronger than us!” She exclaims “and we can’t keep running forever!”

I quickly look around for something to use. I spy a sports equipment store up ahead.

“Here’s what we do,” I say in a half whisper as I get closer to 442388 “see that sports store up ahead? We’re both going to take a bat from the shop. As we pass by, I’m gonna look for some bowling balls. Just as we’ve gone by, I’ll grab them so they won’t see and I’ll drop them on their heads.”

“That’ll kill them, 442389!” She exclaims in a half-whisper.

“It’s like I said, sometimes we have to make hard decisions that might seem or feel wrong, but need to be done,” I say “I… I don’t want to kill them, but if it means we can escape… we’ll… I’ll have to. I intend to knock them out, but if it does more than knocking them out, so be it.”

442388 is quiet for a moment. She looks over at me and smiles confidently.

“It’s a morbid decision, but, screw it,” She says “they’ll just kill us. We’ll just be added to their body count if they do. Can’t save Equestria if we’re dead, right?”

“Right,” I say “alright, now get ready to grab a bat.”

“On it,” She says “funny how life comes back to bite them in the rump, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say “now!”

We simultaneously grab bats from the sports shop window. Glass shatters onto the floor as we pluck them from the shop. I spy a set of bowling balls on display further back in the display window as we pass by.

“Think you can beat us with bats?!” One of the Blackcoats shout.

“You’re sadly mistaken!!” Another shouts.

After passing by the shop, I quickly grab the bowling balls and hover them high above the Blackcoats. I look back at them and smirk. Using my peripheral vision, I adjust the balls to the right position.

“Sorry to get your hopes down, but I fancy bowling,” I cheekily quip as I drop the balls.

They quickly look at each other, then up at the bowling balls above them. None of them are able to react in time and stop the balls from falling on their skulls. 442388 and I skid to a stop as we watch the balls hit their heads with a rather sickening crunch. They all fall down with a loud thump and become stock still. 442388 and I look at each other, then back at the Blackcoats. Blood oozes from slowly from the sides of their masks.

“I think… I think it’s safe to say that we… we killed them,” 442388 pants.

“I feel kind of awful, but there’s no taking it back,” I say.

“Same here,” 442388 says “but you know what? They deserved it. You could see it in their eyes too, right? The animals! They definitely planned on killing us.”

“Let’s just get going,” I say, turning around “I don’t think going through the checkpoint is a smart idea anymore. We’ll have to get through the wall some other way.”

“We can’t go over it. We don’t have the magical capabilities,” She says “we’ll have to go under, then, right? Which means…”

“We’ll have to go through the sewers,” I say, looking around for a marehole cover.

“Should we keep the bats?” 442388 asks.

“Probably,” I reply “who knows what down in the sewers.”

“Maybe a society of rat ponies who’ve developed night vision,” 442388 says, sounding completely serious.

“Well, a society of rat ponies or not, let’s stay on guard,” I say, trotting over to a nearby marehole cover.

I remove the marehole cover with my magic and peer down inside. It’s pitch black after a certain point down the ladder.

“Good thing we know an illumination spell,” I say, grabbing onto the ladder “let’s not wait around any longer.”

As I make my way down, I look down at the darkness below. A bit of fear washes over me as I pause and look up at 442388. I was fully expecting her to be above the marehole, staring down at me and reluctant to get into the dirty sewer. Instead, she was right above me making her descent down. Her dress nearly touched the tip of my muzzle. I continue making my descent into the dark and drop down from the ladder. Cold, foul-smelling water sloshes up against my legs and laps at my fetlocks.

I cast an illumination spell with my horn and a wide area of the sewer becomes lit with blue light. I look up and pull the cover back over the hole, making the sewer become a little darker. Using her magic, 442388 lifts her dress and fixes it so that it doesn’t get wet and dirtied by the filthy sewage water. She then casts an illumination spells, which doubles the brightness of the sewer. She trots up next to me and sighs, obviously annoyed by the state that the sewer is in.

“Which way to freedom, my dearest companion?” 442388 asks “which way in the disgusting filth must we trot to break free from the shackles of our oppression?”
“There’s only one way to go,” I reply “and that’s forward.”