I left my room, peering cautiously down each hallway. A fruitless effort to avoid being murdered, but the return of the killing game had my pulse racing. I traipsed downstairs, not at all surprised by the lack of activity. Nobody was around. All was silent. I poked my head into the empty dining room. Frowning, I stepped inside and checked the kitchen. Nobody. I backed out, returning to the lifeless hallway. It was remarkably unsettling.

“Bullshit. You were alone just fine, remember?”

Yeah.

“And you can–”

I made my way to the MonoMart, mindful of the fact that a murder plot could already be underway, someone rushing to gather weapons at the first possible chance. The doors opened automatically and I stepped through, tense and alert.

“Welcome to MonoMonoMart.”

Almost immediately I heard the faint shuffling of hooves. I crept towards the source of the sound, aware that at any moment I could be attacked. The thrill was incredible.

“Leave me alone!” came a blaring, desperate voice from behind one of the aisles. “I know it’s you! I don’t care what it is that you thought was between us! It was a mere moment of weakness and I regret every millisecond of it!”

I paused, standing hesitantly beside the fruit stands.

“Unless…” the voice croaked. There came the sound of metal on metal. “Stay back! Don’t even think of attacking me! I have a weapon and I will not hesitate to use it!”

“Sanscript?”

“Ah!”

The stallion gasped as I appeared. Cloaked in his magic were assorted tins of food, boxes of cereal and a large bag of rice. A kitchen knife was pointed out in front of him. Two tall bottles of liquor were poorly concealed behind his back. Sanscript sighed deeply, pulling a hoof across his face. “Oh, it’s just you,” he said irritably, gliding the knife to his side. “No-one else is with you, I hope?”

I shook my head. “Nobody’s around last I saw.”

“Mm.” Sanscript moved briskly to the next aisle, picking up various boxes of food.

“But they might be around soon,” I continued, chasing after him. “They can’t keep themselves locked away forever.”

Sanscript stopped for a moment, said something under his breath, then continued on without a reply, scanning the shelves with lightning-fast glances before trotting to the next and adding to his growing collection. The items hung above his head like balloons, swaying limply as he moved. I followed, seemingly invisible, struck with a deep curiosity.

Sanscript eventually turned to me, his face dripping with panicked anger. “What is it!?” he snapped. “If it wasn’t already blatantly obvious, I am busy!”

I took a small step back. “What are you doing?”

“It’s none of your business! Now, if you didn’t come here to kill me, then you are wasting both your time and mi–” Sanscript grimaced and clutched at his midsection, taking a few deep breaths. “Damn it!” He coughed, thumping at the floor. “And I would highly advise you stay away from that sadistic, evil hypnotist. We’d all be better off if he was dead as a doornail! Greyscale, you have my sympathies, but nothing else. I suggest you make the most of what could very well be your last day on Equus.”

“But I am making the most of it.”

Sanscript turned away from me and sighed, shaking his head sadly. “No. You’re not. To think all this time I assumed she was just a brainless lout, skipping about the place and drinking herself into oblivion. On reflection, she’s the smartest one amongst us. I should’ve followed her example rather than futilely carving up the walls like a bloody fool.”

As if on cue, the MonoMart’s welcome message played, followed by hurried hoof-steps. “Go and distract whomever it is,” Sanscript whispered. “Pretend you haven’t seen me, especially if it’s her.” With that, he slinked away.

“Hellooo!” Inky called. “Anyone in here!?”

Feeling strangely obliged to honor Sanscript’s wish I cantered out towards the middle of the MonoMart. Inky gave a half-hearted salute and bounded over. She was smiling, but her reddened eyes told a different story.

“Hey, Greyhound! What’cha doin’ here?”

“Well, Shetland and Elsie got their supplies from here before anyone else, so…”

“You came here to prevent another murder?” Inky’s expression turned somber. “That’s… actually pretty brave of you. But don’t overdo it, alright?” She gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. “You’re not a superhero. So, anyone else here?”

I shook my head.

“I came looking for Sanscript,” Inky continued, gazing around the store. “I knocked on his door a few times and didn’t hear anything. Usually he’d tell me to buzz off, so I thought maybe he’d come here.”

“I see.” What is wrong with everyone?

“Anyway, I’m gonna check around the place. Holler if you need me. Oh, and hope the rabbit didn’t grill you too hard.”

“Y-yeah. It was fine.” Why won’t anybody even consider it!?

Inky sped to a gallop and darted about the store, peering down each aisle and running out of my sight.

It doesn’t make any sense!

“Aha! There you are!”

“Get away from me!”

“Sanscript? What are you…?”

I slowly approached the sound of bickering, my overworked blood vessels ringing in my ears. The killing game had begun again. Tension had risen further than ever before. And yet, the thought that I could be a potential killer had been barely even considered. Sanscript, with his knife raised, dropped his guard entirely once he’d seen me. Even the comment about my time being wasted if I wasn’t here to kill him was said more as a deterrent than an actual possibility. And then after that, despite me laying it out loud and clear, Inky didn’t think for a second that I would be here to commit a murder rather than prevent one. As if I didn’t have the guts to do it. As if they knew everything about me. As if I could be read like a book. I hated it. I wanted it not to be true. Memories of my old life began to circle and I batted them away furiously.

Maybe I should grab a knife.

“Really?” King scoffed. “Either you make an idle threat and slip down the hill or you stab one of them and fall even further.”

Shut up. I can just chalk it up to a nervous breakdown.

“You think you can reach the summit like that? Come on, don’t be a fool. It’s actually better this way.”

The sound of King’s voice dissipated into the ether. I stopped in my tracks. He was right. As much as I felt an intense annoyance at being viewed as perpetually innocent, it did me no good. Having fun with my family was the top priority. There were other ways I could subvert their expectations. I took a deep breath and continued on, over to the quarreling pair.

I realized then that I’d been getting surprisingly used to King. His presence had begun to feel much more natural, especially compared with when I’d first become aware of him. The fact that nobody else in the entire universe knew of his existence brought a strange comfort, and my plan was to keep it that way. I did have to wonder, though, how long he’d truly been around. As for my earlier mental frenzy and bout of laughter, cut short by sudden choking terror, I wasn’t sure which of us were responsible for what. Putting things to one side, I turned a corner to find Sanscript and Inky at a standoff.

“Do you think I’m an idiot!?” Inky cried. “I can figure out what you’re planning just by looking.”

“If that is the case, you should respect my choice and leave me be!” Sanscript retorted, trying to barge past while Inky blocked him. “What is your obsession, mare!?”

“You’re not thinking straight. Hey!” Inky called me over, gesturing with one hoof. “Greyscale, you tell him. He’s gonna lock himself in his room!”

“The safest place to be!” Sanscript blared.

“You can’t stay in there forever and you know it. It doesn’t matter how much food you’ve got. Hey–!”

“Move!” Sanscript pushed Inky aside, the zebra mare falling to the floor with a yelp of pain. Minor shock flushed across the unicorn’s face, but he regained composure and charged past me.

Inky scrambled to her hooves, sprinted over and stood blocking the entrance. “Please,” she pleaded.

“Miss Slinger, if you do not move…” Sanscript raised the knife barely a few inches away from Inky’s face. “I will cut you down here and now!”

“Do it,” Inky said, gritting her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, stab me right here, right now.”

“No!” I cried.

“You think I won’t do it?” Sanscript scoffed. “I am not fooling around!”

He might actually do it.

“I’ll leave you alone if you stab me,” Inky said, shrugging. “There, that’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

“This is your last warning!”

“Fine.” Inky took a deep breath and smiled. “Whatever makes you happy.”

The knife turned on its side and flew lengthways at Inky’s neck. I screamed as it met its mark, pressing forcefully into her skin. A short line of blood appeared on the blade. Inky winced a little but remained in place, her eyes stern and piercing.

“Inky!” Sanscript roared, wiping away streams of tears. “Will you please, please, please stop reminding me of her! That’s all I ask! Please, I…” The stallion descended into exasperated sobs. “I’m begging you. I just can’t take it anymore.”

Inky’s face dropped like an anchor. Her eyes grew wide. She stood agape, then snapped her jaw shut, speechless for the very first time. She stepped aside diligently, her eyes to the floor. After a series of deep breaths, Sanscript plodded outside, a trail of food, drink, and the bloodstained knife drifting after him. “I’m sorry,” Inky muttered, just loud enough for Sanscript to hear. The stallion nodded wordlessly without breaking his stride, passing through the hotel entrance and disappearing out of sight.

“Aren’t you going after him?” I asked.

Inky slowly shook her head. “No.”

“But he has that knife. What if he’s planning to kill himself?”

Inky’s face tensed. “He won’t. At least, I don’t think so.” She sighed and cupped her face with her hooves. “All this time I thought he was just playing hard to get. I should’ve known something else was up. I’m such an idiot.”

I placed a hoof on Inky’s shoulder. “You really like him, don’t you?”

Inky nodded in response. “Mm.”

“Why?”

Inky looked up at me, meeting my gaze with an icy calmness. “Why not?”

Together, we gathered some breakfast, brought it to the dining hall and prepared it in the kitchen, neither of us saying a word as I ruminated on Inky’s perplexing statement. She’d said it as if it were the most logical response in the world. For whatever reason, I believed it was. But I still didn’t understand.

“If he’d stabbed you,” I said in the middle of our meal, “what would you have done?”

“Forgiven him,” Inky said plainly, biting into her toast. “It would’ve been fair enough.”

It was an irrational reasoning. However, the memory of Copper’s feigned attack on me lingered. I had truly believed I was going to die, but still...

“Which is why,” Inky began, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile, “you should seriously think about shacking up with someone here. Doesn’t matter if it’s Maribelle, Dopple, Copper, all three at once, whoever. Every hole’s a goal! Not mine though, alright? Not unless I get really drunk.”

I wasn’t about to entertain Inky’s suggestion. I needed to change the subject. “What about escaping?” I asked.

“Priorities, priorities,” Inky said, taking on an authoritative tone.

“You don’t think we can escape?”

Inky stopped chewing for a moment, pursing her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. What do you think?”

What should my answer be? I thought to myself. If I’m to be who I need to be for this? “I think there’s a chance,” I lied.

Inky shrugged. “My point still stands. Priorities, priorities.”

“With all these cameras? With thousands watching?”

Inky raised an eyebrow. “You’re more worried about creatures you’ve never met laughing at you than you are about having your skull caved in with a hammer? What have I literally just told you twice now?”

“Sorry,” I said, shrinking back into my seat. In truth, the cameras didn’t bother me at all. There was another minute of awkward silence between us.

“I’ll bet you think I’m some crazy pervert, the way I’ve been talking all this time.” Inky stretched out her limbs and settled into her seat. “And a worthless drunk. But really, I’m not. I promise you.”

“I never thought–”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Inky waved a hoof dismissively. “No need to be polite, okay? I’m sure everybody thinks it, considering the way I’ve been acting since we got here.” Inky tapped her hooves together in thought. “Out there in the real world, I’m a professional. I like to laugh and joke around plenty, but work comes first. I love the travel, the experience, meeting creatures from all across Equestria, finding the most interesting stories to report on.” Inky’s expression turned sour. “Which is another reason I’m so baffled by this place. If Monobunny really is being honest, I have no way to explain… Hmm…”

“Explain what?”

Inky shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re getting off topic. My point is, out there I barely ever got drunk, and I might be a bit flirty on occasion, but I’m not some nympho. But as soon as I got here I just kind of lost control. I didn’t think I was all that scared at first, but I suppose I was, deep down. Maybe I saw this as a way to throw away my inhibitions and not give a damn. Why even worry about my health? I might as well drink myself into a stupor. Why think twice about a stallion I find attractive? I might as well try and score.” Inky grimaced as if she’d swallowed something bitter. “No. It’s not fair on Sanscript to think like that. He really is a nice guy. I think just being with him until the end would be enough for me. I never really had a meaningful relationship before, so it’d be nice.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.”

“And the same to you,” Inky said, winking. “You’d better make up your mind soon, though. I mean it!”

“I’ll, um, see what I can do,” I said bashfully, breaking out into a nervous chuckle.

“Hey, you know who I miss?” Inky asked. “Pinkie Pie.”

“Oh, yeah. She was quite the character.”

“She was so damn full of energy. I feel like we’d have been the best of friends out in the real world.” Inky shifted in her seat. “D’you remember that evening when she called out to her friend Applejack? Monobunny even admitted that Applejack was watching us right at that very moment. Pinkie seemed so sure that Applejack was gonna save us. Friends in high places, she said. I never doubted her for a second. Since then, when I’ve been alone, I took some time to talk to Applejack. I wanted to comfort and support her after what happened to Pinkie. I may not have been able to hear anything she said or even know what she looked like, but she felt like a friend. I had no idea if anyone I knew was watching, but with Applejack, I had proof. And maybe she was grateful to me. I told her to be proud of Pinkie, to not lose hope, that I had faith in her just as Pinkie did, and that I hoped one day we could meet each other. I was stupid to get my hopes up though.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Monobunny had us locked in our rooms, I called out to Applejack again. That’s when Monobunny laughed his head off. He told me Applejack wasn’t watching anymore.” Inky’s expression was one of stony dismay. “He told me she was dead.”

“What!?”

“I don’t know when it happened or how it happened. I asked Monobunny again and again but he refused to answer. So maybe some of my messages got through to her, or maybe Applejack was dead before I even got to say hello. Even if that was the case, I just wish I’d never been told. I wish I could’ve gone on thinking Applejack was listening to me on the other side. But that’s Monobunny’s game, right? He gives us hope just so he can rip it away from us. It’s so messed up.

“Anyway, it got me thinking. What if the dome is just one small part of a massive death game that we don’t even get to see? When Pinkie first asked about Applejack, Monobunny was hesitant about giving a straight answer. He really gave it some thought before telling us that she was watching, probably to get a reaction out of Pinkie. Then Pinkie dies, and so does Applejack. I can’t help thinking their deaths are linked somehow.

“Greyscale, I have to ask, and sorry if this seems like I’m being too personal. Do you have someone on the outside that you really care about?”

It was a question I couldn’t have predicted. As before, my old life being brought up struck me with a wave of anxiety, and I stayed silent for a moment before giving my answer. “No. There really isn’t anyone. The closest would be my Aunt, but I haven’t seen her in years.” The only ones who are important to me are in this building, I wanted to say. “Why do you ask?”

“It was just a wild theory I had,” Inky said. “I thought maybe we each had someone we were linked to on the outside, right? Like, Applejack is forced to watch Pinkie, and then if Pinkie is out of the game, Applejack is out too. Or something. I have nothing to prove it, and honestly it doesn’t make much sense. If it were the case, wouldn’t Monobunny have told us about it in the beginning so we’d each have an even bigger incentive to commit murder? That’s what the killing game’s supposed to be about, right? So it’s probably bogus. But still, it makes me worried that if I die, my brother’s gonna die.”

“Your brother?”

Inky smiled. “Ah. I never brought him up before, did I? Yeah, my big brother Paper Chaser. He’s had my back ever since when. Our Mom died when we were little, leaving us with our drug addict father to try and piece a life back together. But Dad was a useless piece of shit. Kept us living in squalor, always putting himself first. Chaser did odd jobs on the side, even through school, always saving up. We’d been planning on escaping for years, finding some way of leaving Dad behind and starting on our own. Then one day Chaser comes home and says ‘Inky, grab your stuff. We’re leaving.’ And just like that, we walked away.

“Chaser had found a dingy little apartment somewhere. Smaller than what we were used to, but it quickly became home. We kept an ear out, but it seemed Dad never came looking for us. It’s just as well. I think if he turned up on the doorstep Chaser would’ve damn near killed him. He struggled for a while, but Chaser was always a rock, you know? Never let himself get beat down. Helped me get my start. Bit of a sucker for the roulette table, but never to the point of screwing us over. I don’t know where I’d be without him.” Inky sighed deeply. “I really miss him. And if I thought he was gonna die if I died, I just don’t know how I’d handle that. So… I’m gonna hope my theory’s wrong. He’d want me to have as much fun before I die, anyway. You should too. Speaking of which.” Inky clapped me on the shoulder just as Maribelle entered the room. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, getting up. “He’s all yours, Belle.”

“Oh, no, no,” Maribelle said bashfully. “There’s no need to leave on my account. I was just, well…”

Inky gave Maribelle a friendly pat on the back and a quick salute. “Nope, I’m off anyway. Need to go clear my head with a bottle of cider. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Maribelle sighed as Inky traipsed down the corridor, whistling a tune. “Hello Greyscale.” She pawed at her foreleg anxiously. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“No, I insist,” Maribelle said with a bow, taking the seat opposite. She could barely keep eye contact with me without glancing away. “I said some truly inappropriate things to you earlier. I’ve been under immeasurable stress, and the previous trial tipped me over the edge. That said, I know that’s no excuse. We are all trapped here and need to keep a level head. I’m deeply sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable. Is there any chance we could start over?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied. “I have to be honest though, I was really flattered. I’ve never had someone approach me for sex. It made me feel kind of good, actually.”

“Please!” Maribelle cried, burying her head into her hooves, her face glowing red. “Do not speak of it in such terms! I could die from the shame! Now everyone thinks I’m a harlot!”

“No they don’t,” I said. “And if anyone does, they’re an idiot. Personally, I think you were being very brave.”

“Brave?”

“You might have been desperate, sure, but you were letting yourself be vulnerable in front of everyone and speak your mind. That takes guts.”

“But I’d lost my mind!” Maribelle cried.

“Maybe a little bit, yeah, but you were just being honest with yourself. You’re scared of dying a virgin. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I… I still am ashamed of it.”

“Don’t be,” I said with a smile. “You’re equine. You felt a need for something in a dire situation and decided to do something about it. And since Button’s too young, Sanscript has been claimed by Inky and Reph and Mesmer are a little too old, you came to me. If everyone could be that honest with themselves and to others,” Oh this is a good one… “we’d all be better off for it.”

Maribelle lifted her head, eyebrows raised in a perplexed expression. “Too old?” She tilted her head and leaned forward, peering cautiously into my eyes. Then a smile crept across her face and she began giggling like a school-filly, clutching at her chest, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“What?” I asked. “Or not handsome enough?”

This sent Maribelle into even greater hysterics, almost falling from her stool and desperately grabbing onto the table for balance. “I suppose they’re not my type,” she finally choked out, wiping her eyes and coughing. “Oh, goodness.”

“What did I say?” I balked. I felt as if I was missing something that should’ve been obvious.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Maribelle said, waving a hoof dismissively. She looked a lot happier now. It was a pleasant sight. I could hardly believe I was the one to cause it. Maribelle sighed contentedly. “I think I almost forgot how to have fun. You know, speaking with you hasn’t been at all what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Maribelle eyed me curiously. “We’ve never spoken to each other like this, and after what I did earlier today, I assumed you’d be more anxious, but you’re confident, calm, and well-spoken. Are you truly the same stallion I met on the very first day?”

“As far as I know.”

“Yes, of course you are. However, I find myself doubting the validity of Monobunny’s claims, even if he has sworn himself to the code of honesty.”

“Why’s that?”

Maribelle paused for a moment. “I must apologize if this offends you, but I find it incredibly difficult to believe that someone such as yourself could truly be the Ultimate Nobody.”

My heart clenched. “Oh…”

“Please, do not take that as an insult. I simply mean it is a shock that someone so clever and so brave could not have achieved something great in their life. I don’t suppose you realize the effect you have had on many of us here in the dome? It’s rather remarkable, really. Are you sure there isn’t something about yourself that you’re not telling us? Perhaps you managed to fool

“fool”

everyone, even Monobunny and the mastermind. Assuming Monobunny can only tell the truth, it would mean creating such a believable lie that it is told in absolute confidence as truth. As such, it may be possible for someone to turn their life into a false truth. That’s what I suspect, anyway. Am I correct?”

I scratched my forehead in mild confusion. I’d never expected – nor even conceived – such a wild theory. “I wish you were right, but that’s really not the case. I’ve been a nobody all my life, always fading into the background.”

Maribelle frowned. “It doesn’t sound as if you are lying. Still, I find it difficult to believe that someone can be so overshadowed in life through circumstance, only to become blessed in time of dire hopelessness.”

“Blessed?”

Maribelle nodded assertively. “Yes! I believe everyone on Equus has a purpose – a role to fulfil, and yours must be to rise to action in a time of immense crisis. You simply haven’t had the chance to make your mark on the world until now.”

Something in Maribelle’s words brought forth a flash of inspiration. “Maribelle, I’ve been meaning to ask you, who is Sol?”

Maribelle recoiled in surprise, her eyes shaky. “Sol? Why would you want to know about Sol?”

“You mentioned Sol after the trial. That’s when you struck Copper, which… I’m still not sure what I think about, to be honest. But please, tell me about Sol.”

Maribelle squirmed uneasily in her seat, biting her lip. “Sol is the one who watches over all of us.”

“The mastermind?”

“No. Well, yes, in a sense. Sol is not merely the mastermind of the dome, but rather the mastermind of all things, now and forever. She sees to it that every being on the planet plays their respective part throughout time, be they pony, dragon, rabbit or bear.”

“But doesn’t that mean Sol is responsible for locking us inside the dome, and the murders thus far?”

“That is… true.” Maribelle exhaled through her nose. “However, there are many intricacies to Sol’s plan that we as mortals are not privy to. Pain, hardship and failure – these are all necessary things for each of us to grow as both individuals and as a community. As awful as it has been to witness such tragedy, and to have been ripped from our lives as we once knew them, can we truly say that no good has come of this?

“Look to yourself and the bonds you have formed, ones that you could only have hoped for. Think of Shetland’s epiphany as he faced death, realizing the cruelty and folly in attempting to extinguish our lives in order to save the unknowable, and the reality of his actions in having to end Pinkie’s life with his own hooves. Think of Elsie, who fought against the killing game itself, pushing aside her desires to see her children once again, realizing the farce in playing with fire. Blood on her hooves, she was denied the martyr’s death she wished for and the chance to be a mother once again. As for myself, I’ve been reminded that as much as I wish to be a saint, I still have dark desires within me that I must deal with. It has been a learning experience for us all.”

The pieces were all there to link Patience’s Sol and Maribelle’s Sol, but one last question remained. “What about the others? What about Pinkie, Yoko and Cube Rick? What did they gain from being murdered?”

“Ah, of course. On the outset they appear to have been victims, but Sol withholds a special place for each of us once our souls have passed on from this world. Have you heard of Paradise?”

“I know the word,” I replied, “but is there really a place called that?”

“Paradise is a beautiful place where the fields stretch on and the flowers bloom.” Maribelle continued with her explanation, her eyes gleaming with the utmost joy. Every detail matched the story of Patience completely. And yet, Monobunny had confirmed that I was the sole recipient of the story, which he himself only had the vaguest idea of, meaning it wasn’t even worth considering that Maribelle could have learned it through him. Whatever reason Maribelle had for telling me about Sol, I had no doubt she was speaking of her beliefs with the utmost sincerity. It was beyond fascinating. “Pinkie and Yoko were spared unnecessary grief that they would surely not have handled had they continued the killing game, while Cube Rick was taught a lesson in the pointlessness of aggression on his path to happiness. So you see, eternal joy awaits all of us eventually, and these moments of sadness are but grains of sand along a sparkling beach that make up our existence.”

“That’s… wonderful!” I exclaimed jubilantly. “You really think I’ll be able to meet Yoko and Pinkie again?”

“Of course,” Maribelle said with a smile. “When your time comes.”

“I always thought the two of them would’ve made a great couple. Who’s to say they aren’t already enjoying their life together in Paradise? Do you think I’ll find someone who loves me in Paradise?”

“If it is what you desire, it shall be. But perhaps it is Sol’s wish that you find someone before that day comes. One cannot rely on Paradise until Sol has decided it.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said, leaning back into my seat and sighing contentedly. This was incredible! I had fantasized about committing acts of chaos, and convincing Maribelle that I could be converted to her beliefs was a triumph without negative repercussions! The link between Maribelle and the story also satiated my lust for mystery and intrigue. I could feel myself on the cusp of taking another step towards the summit!

Slow down, I said inwardly. Becoming overly excited with supposed victory had been my downfall in the past when I had missed a vital part of Elsie’s motive. Motive… Motive… I spent a few seconds in silence, taking stock of the situation. Maribelle had appeared shocked when I asked about Sol, taking a moment to ready herself in order to delve into an extremely sensitive subject. Then, once she had started, words poured out of her like a fountain, as if she were reading from a script. These two instances didn’t add up. I needed to figure out why.

“Greyscale, may I assume that you had never heard of Sol before coming to the dome?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I figured as much.” Maribelle furrowed her brow. “It is very confusing for me, you see. I have spent years travelling Equestria in my role as an Au Pair, and most – if not all – of the families I have stayed with at least had a passing knowledge of Sol. Many were even devout worshippers. For that reason, I am perplexed as to why this is not the case in the dome. I have asked a few since coming here and have received little more than blank stares. Sadly, I am no anthropologist, so I know not what link I am missing, but it is admittedly distressing. That said, I have yet to ask Mesmer or Dish Panner, and I unfortunately missed my chance to ask those who have passed on.

“That’s not to say I have lost my personal connection with Sol regarding this matter. My faith is as steadfast as it ever was, but it has altered my perspective on our situation somewhat. I believe each and every one of us was chosen for a reason, but as to the answer, I have no idea where to start.”

“It could just be a coincidence,” I said.

Maribelle shook her head. “I think the mastermind wants us to figure out the connection we all share, then we can all escape together.”

“Are you scared?”

Maribelle looked up at me curiously. The words had simply slipped out of my mouth. “Yes, I am afraid. I know I shouldn’t be if Sol is watching over us, but the horrors I’ve seen thus far have left me shaken. If I had known such a fate awaited me, I might have lived life a little differently.” Maribelle pulled her forehooves around her chest. “I have many regrets. Though, I’m sure that’s true for all of us, isn’t it? We’re all the same.”

“Nobody’s perfect, least of all me,” I said, reaching out a hoof across the table. “I have plenty of regrets myself.” And yet, in that moment, I couldn’t think of a single regret from my life outside the dome. I regretted… nothing? Not one thing despite the pointlessness of my old life? I wracked my brain but came up empty. My insides felt cold and numb. I shivered.

“My goodness,” Maribelle exclaimed sadly, taking my hoof in hers. “I shouldn’t be piling my emotional baggage onto you. We can support each other. That’s actually the reason I came to find you in the first place. Not… what I said before, of course,” Maribelle said, blushing a little. “But I do want to be with someone, if only for a little while.”

“What about Button?”

Maribelle’s grip tightened. “Button has been avoiding me. It’s my own fault for losing myself in front of him. I think I scared him. I don’t think he even trusts me anymore. He’s such a sweet, clever young colt, and he means well, but he’s very fragile. He needs the utmost love and care, and I failed him. Years of experience looking after foals, yet I failed the one who needed me most. And in the time of his greatest need, all I can think about is filling the void in my own life. I don’t deserve forgiveness, much less support.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I could’ve given the old cliché of that’s not true and you deserve plenty but I felt as if doing so would be no more than a predictable formality. And so, I decided to turn the tables. I had an inkling that Maribelle was fishing for a particular response – to test my resolve. She still appeared uncertain of me, and I of her. She was a gleaming jade enigma wrapped in the finest Chevalian silk, ready to be unwrapped and picked apart. I also felt…

No. You ca– I can’t.

I cleared my throat. “If that’s how you feel, Maribelle, then I’ll hold you to it. If you can do your part in supporting me, I’ll support you back.”

Maribelle’s ears pricked up. She pulled her hoof away and smiled. “That’s very kind of you. I was actually thinking of offering my talents to you, as a way of apology.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Talents?”

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After some delicate coercion, I found myself welcoming Maribelle into my room, the graceful, jade-coated mare blushing as she stepped inside. Looking back, it seemed obvious that this had been her plan from the very beginning. I closed the door behind me, preparing for Maribelle to bless me with her unabashed ‘talent.’

“Your bed,” Maribelle mused, running a hoof along its sheets. “You haven’t washed your bedsheets since the day we got here, have you?”

“No, afraid not.”

“Not to worry,” Maribelle said, bundling up the sheets, pillow-cases and duvet cover. “Though your desk could use a dusting. And what is this?” she asked, opening my wardrobe and rooting around. “A dirty towel?”

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” I said, shrugging.

“And no soap?” Maribelle gasped as she inspected the bathroom.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“No need to be embarrassed,” Maribelle said, collecting all manner of laundry and taking stock of the entire contents of my room. “But I insist we wash these post haste!”

And so, the pantomime continued, with the two of us stopping by Maribelle’s dorm to pick up some detergent as well as two of her usual outfits, before heading to the laundry room. Neither of us spoke of what had just come to pass. She likely knew that I’d figured it out. This had been a trial of trust. No weapons or dangerous items had been found in my room. In order to dissuade herself from suspicion, Maribelle had given me ample opportunity to search her room as well, even displaying what little there was in plain sight: A fruit bowl with half a dozen apricots, an apple and two bananas, some powdered detergent, a few bottles of sparkling water, various cloths, bars of scented soap, three teacups (one empty), one topped with sugar-cubes and the other filled with what appeared to be loose tea leaves. “The water from the faucet is hot enough to make decent tea without needing the facilities of the kitchen.” I almost asked where she kept the milk, before thinking better of it.

As I was lulled into the near hypnotic nature of Maribelle’s calming presence, I relaxed. There was something about her eyes, the way they drifted, half-lidded, with a degree of resolve and silent prayer. It was obvious she was trying to either manipulate me or scope me out as a potential threat, but I also sensed an air of honesty in her words and gestures. Perhaps she truly was desperate for someone to shower her with affection, and simply needed confirmation that I was a suitable stand-in. After all, we… she might not get another chance.

“Oh, this is a surprise,” Maribelle said as we entered the laundry room. Reph was muttering to himself, a bundle of crumpled up sheets tucked under his foreleg.

“Ah!” Reph gasped, immediately becoming flustered. “Y-yes, I’m just, you know, w-w-washing my things!” He threw the bundle into one of the machines.

“May we?” Maribelle asked. The two of us carried our own sheets and clothes over and tossed them into the same machine. “We should reduce waste whenever we can, correct?”

“I… B-but how will we know whose is whose!?” Reph cried, his legs tensed, poised to dive in and rescue his laundry.

“We needn’t worry about that,” Maribelle said softly, pouring a cupful of detergent into the chamber, slamming the door shut and fiddling with the front dial, the machine slowly whirring into action.

“F-fine!” Reph huffed, his cheeks flaring. “I just d-don’t see the point when we have this entire room f-full of washing machines at our d-disposal. Why do we even have all these? M-Most of us don’t wear clothes, and these things are m-massive!”

The reason seemed obvious enough, though I kept my lips sealed while Maribelle and Reph exchanged words. From the perspective of a normal hotel, the laundry room’s collection of machines was far in excess of capacity. Their purpose was simple: concealment. Hiding any kind of murder weapon would be easy, and it was possible that some evidence might even be destroyed by going through a spin cycle. In addition, there was the prospect of hiding oneself, or hiding a body. With Yoko and Shetland out of the picture, the only one among us who might be a struggle to fit was Mesmer. Grimmer still was the potential of killing someone by trapping them inside. The laundry room was the perfect place to commit the perfect murder. A realization sprung forth. It would make plenty of sense to search each machine for weapons, the three of us, right now. It could potentially save someone’s life. Temporarily, at least. Always temporarily.

No, I decided. It wouldn’t be worth the effort. Anyone could have or would do anything. There was no stopping it. The only change had been disallowing us from flushing evidence down the toilet, which in all likelihood was simply to avoid more “boring” murder methods. The razor blade revolution would never come to pass at this rate. Unless… someone disposed of them in one of the washing machines. A bit of glue, then position it on the inside of one of the machines in a way that made it difficult to find, even if someone was looking intently. If someone figured out this method and put it to use, I could expose them and bask in the glory of once again solving an impossible trial! I could finally taste the victory I so desired!

I had no idea if Reph’s suspicious actions thus far were born from malicious intent. Thanks to Maribelle, if that were the case, his paltry plan could be thwarted here and now. What good was there in some piss-poor murder attempt that any dimwit could solve? Stopping it in its tracks now could only…

…

Well. It paid to live in the moment.

“I’m not used to waiting,” Maribelle said sullenly. “It was a rare thing in my line of work to have time to myself. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“Sounds tough,” I said. “Rushing around after some family.”

“Oh no, I always rather liked it,” Maribelle replied. “I sought to give my gift to the world, and I did exactly that. I helped so many families, so many… foals. Their lives became well-oiled machines thanks to me.”

“That’s upsetting,” I said. “Likening yourself to a cog just makes it sound like you were being used.”

Maribelle tensed up. “I wouldn’t put it that way at all, Greyscale. I just…” She glanced over her right shoulder at Reph who still sat awkwardly beside us, then back to me. “I’d prefer it if we could speak of such things in private.”

“A-am I bothering you two!?” Reph exclaimed, flabbergasted. “You’re the ones who b-barged in and f-forced my hoof. I was here first!”

“And you’re still here,” Maribelle replied haughtily. “I see no reason when our laundry will take an hour or so.”

“Why do you h-have a problem with that? Does my p-presence really offend you that much!?”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll be taking our leave.” Maribelle got up and gestured for me to follow. “Let’s go to my room.”

Reph shook his head annoyedly. “If p-privacy was all you w-wanted, you didn’t have to be rude! What have I even d-done wrong?”

“Leave it for now,” I said, planting a hoof on Reph’s shoulder as I passed by. “She’s been having a bad time.”

“H-haven’t we all!? It’s not been a p-picnic for me, either!”

Maribelle and I continued down the corridor towards her room. “You’re suspicious of him, aren’t you?”

Maribelle nodded.

“D’you think it’s wise to leave him alone?”

“I know those machines well. You cannot bring a cycle to a stop before it reaches its intended conclusion. If he tries to open the chamber and remove his possessions, not only will we be able to find out, but he’ll leave a wet trail behind.”

“And you didn’t open the bundle when you had the chance in case he attacked you, correct?”

Maribelle nodded. “Precisely. My guess is he was looking to hide whatever he had in the laundry room because the lock on his dormitory has been destroyed.” We passed Reph’s room, the door left ajar. “The others helped to build a bolt-lock into his door, but it means his room can never be locked while he is absent, making it a terrible hiding place. As such, forcing what he had into the washing machine was the most logical solution.” Maribelle fumbled her keycard as we reached the door. “Shall we?” I saw no reason not to and walked inside, making my way towards the bed.

I’d barely made a motion to sit down when the door slammed shut and Maribelle launched herself at me, teeth bared and eyes on fire. I reeled in pain as my skull thudded violently against the wall, Maribelle forcing her hooves into my neck and crushing my windpipe. “What are you!?” she screamed. “A sinner!? A demon!?” Her grip tightened. The shock was too much. I couldn’t react. “Answer me!”

“Please…” I managed to choke out. Maribelle was on top of me now, her face mere inches away. From this distance, I could see the madness as clear as day. I could see every twitch, every tear, every ounce of rage inside the once docile and innocent angel. This was the madness that Button had witnessed. This was why he’d left her.

In that moment, within such close proximity, I understood her reasons for covering up her body. I didn’t even need to see it to know. The secret she had shared with Dish Panner (and likely Button) now also belonged to me. But it was a small victory in the face of death, as she continued to choke the life out of me.

“Tell me your sins!” Maribelle demanded, snarling into my ear.

“I don’t know…”

“Liar!” Maribelle took a hoof away from my neck and slapped me across the cheek. My face throbbed. My ears were ringing. I thought I could taste blood. Panic began to set in. “Then are you a demon!? Are you!? A demon sent to torment me!?”

“I’m no demon,” I whispered through labored breaths. “I’m just a nobody. Maribelle…” I needed a way out. I tried lifting myself from the bed, but Maribelle held me firm. My two forehooves were free. If I tried, I could send a shot into her stomach or ribs, just hard enough to make her loosen her grip. But my energy was drained. Any more of this and I might black out. My mind was spiraling into nothingness.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to…

“Do what you must,” King whispered in answer to my plea. “Up, up, up the hill we go.”

“Well!?” Maribelle screamed.

With what little strength I had I lifted my hooves and wrapped them around Maribelle’s midsection, slowly caressing her spine. I turned my head and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, then resting my head against hers. “I forgive you,” I whispered softly, pulling her in closer. “I forgive you.”

The force against my neck began to subside. I desperately took deep breaths, my vision coalescing and my muscles coming back to life. Maribelle slumped against me, her menacing snarls replaced with distraught sobs. Tears fell against my shoulder as Maribelle’s cries grew ever louder, ever more desperate. Her body curled up, the once great and powerful limbs shrinking and trembling. I held her, feeling her warmth, her heartbeat, the blood that flowed through her veins, her lifeforce, all within reach, shared from her to me. More than ever, in all my encounters since I’d come to the dome, I felt it. That rich, dizzying sensation of life beyond my own skin. I had been blessed first by Lancet, then Yoko, Dopple, Copper, Dish Panner and Mesmer. At the end of the day, we were all just meat and bone. Just a network of pipes and cables that powered us along. Blood passing from one place to another, ever flowing. Air and water, strands of hair, chunks of meat wrapped around a brain. That was us. Brains that could never touch. Always a barrier between us. This was as close as anyone could ever get. And I… I had no idea how much I had craved it. Perhaps even before the dome, I had been crying out for this. To feel the warmth and the blood. I felt so at peace, but I…

A pain gripped my head. It was as though a tuning fork had been struck deep inside my skull and was ringing out through whatever flesh was in the way. I could feel myself tumbling, slipping down the hill towards the abyss of vines. Thorns wrapped around me and tore at my skin.

“Always the fool.”

No!

“You’re just a waste.”

No!

I tensed, holding back the pain, tightening my grip around Maribelle as her wails continued. I shook my head and came back to reality, the hill, the vines, and the King disappearing for now. I was back in the bed of a broken mare as she spilled her sadness unto me. I breathed a sigh of relief and closed my eyes. “You really scared me.”

Maribelle sniffed hard and rested her cheek against mine. “I’m sorry. I know what I did was… I’m so sorry! Oh, Seigneur au paradis! S'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi! Je t'en supplie! Je me suis défait!”

“It’s okay,” I cooed. “It’s alright.” I brushed through her smooth, sun-colored mane. “What made you think I was a demon, anyway? Do I really scare you that much?”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Maribelle whispered, her words nearly catching in her throat. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. Why are we here? What purpose is this place? Why us? It’s all like a dream, all these things. We’ve been going about it all the wrong way, ever since we got here.”

“What do you mean?”

Maribelle shook her head, her golden mane brushing over my face. “We’re not in Equestria anymore. We’re not even on Equus. This place is… if it isn’t hell, then it’s another realm in which sinners are made to suffer in. Whoever could construct such a place and capture us here, otherwise? What of Monobunny? What of these eyes in the walls watching our every move? What of the terrible trials we’ve bore witness to?” Maribelle held me tightly. Her chest quivered in a sporadic rhythm. “This place is beyond reality. If our sentence is not to suffer here, then it is to be judged. Sol saw into our blackened hearts and chose us.

“I remember little of my capture, only awaking in chains. It was as if I had been plucked from the world like a piece of fruit, once connected to the world of the living, and in the blink of an eye, taken to a place beyond my wildest nightmares. I believe what I experienced was my own death. And so, everyone here is either a sinner, or a demon meant to watch over those who have sinned. That is the only possibility.”

“If that’s the case, why did you think I was a demon?”

Maribelle slowly drew herself away from me, propping herself against the wall and allowing me to do the same. She rested her head on my shoulder and held onto my hoof like a frightened filly clinging desperately onto her mother. “You are, how can I put this? You are unique among all of us. In my mind, I can’t imagine Sol bringing someone to hell who has never had a chance at life. You have suffered already, having never found a talent or reason to exist, yet you are here with us. To fail time after time and end up in a squalid home without luxury and no way forward… I cannot reconcile that such a thing is sinful enough to warrant such suffering under Sol’s watchful eye. Unless of course, your title of Nobody was the result of living a sinful life.” Maribelle lifted her head and brought her eyes to mine. “Can you answer me honestly?”

I sighed. As much as I wanted to escape my meaningless past, it kept coming back to haunt me. Amidst the connections I had made, everyone still knew the truth. “I can’t think of anything specific that I did to hurt anyone. The only thing that comes to mind is…”

“Yes?”

I gulped. “I once tried to kill myself. I suppose that would’ve been cruel to those around me, but my aunt didn’t even seem to care. But apart from that, nothing. I’m no saint, but… I don’t think I’m a sinner. I never had the chance to be. Not until, well, I came to the dome.”

“You could be lying,” Maribelle said stoically. “I think you lied about believing in Sol when I first told you of my faith.”

“Well that’s… partly true,” I admitted. “I thought it’d make you feel better to have someone else take you seriously. Besides, do I sound like I’m lying to you now?”

“No,” Maribelle said softly. “So perhaps you are a demon. In which case, there is no way for me to stop you.”

“I think I’d know if I was,” I said mirthfully. “No horns or scaly tail from what I can see. And anyway, by your own logic, why would you be here?”

“I am a sinner.”

“You’re probably judging yourself too harshly,” I said with a smile, trying to brighten the mood. “You’re no sinner.”

Maribelle recoiled in mild disgust. “You say this after I kicked Copper in the face, tried forcing you into taking my virginity, and just now threw you against the wall and tried to strangle you. Either your memory is failing, or you have very low standards.”

“What do you want me to say?” I exclaimed anxiously. “Okay, so you lost it a bit, but that’s because we’re stuck in a killing game. Shetland and Elsie killed innocent ponies, but I doubt they’d ever think of doing that if it wasn’t for the situation. Just because you’ve made mistakes doesn’t make you a sinner.”

“Mistakes?” Maribelle began to well up once more. “Mistakes!? Greyscale, you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. I have sinned. I have sinned! I deserve the harshest punishment there is!”

“What is it?” I asked. “You stole from the families you were staying with? I’m sure you were only–”

“I’m a murderer,” Maribelle said softly, gritting her teeth. “I have killed.”

My heart threatened to explode from my chest. “Button,” I whispered. “Maribelle, you… You can’t have.”

“No,” Maribelle said, her breath quickening. “Not Button.” Her eyes narrowed into tearful blades. Veins popped from her forehead. “That news article was a message,” she seethed. “And Mesmer… He’s the demon who spelled it out for me.”

My mind flashed back to that moment, Mesmer’s cold explanation of the murder of countless orphans, Maribelle’s outburst, and the three words that read like horrific damnation to us all.

“Hell is real.”

“That’s where we are,” Maribelle sobbed. “My sin has gnawed away at my soul. I knew that one day, my fate would catch up to me. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer!” she repeated, falling limp against my chest. “And now finally, after all these years, I face the consequences of my actions.”

“But who?” I asked. “And why?”

Maribelle paused, her face flushed and contorted. It was as if the words were being pulled out of her frame by some terrifying force. “Her name was Honeycrisp,” Maribelle murmured. “And she was nine years old when I killed her.”

Author's Note

This one took some time. Glad to finally have it finished.

Not to downplay what I've literally just uploaded, but I am feverishly excited for the next two chapters in particular. We'll be getting some insight into a tragic tale from Maribelle's past, which will be followed by...

Well. Let's just say I'll be looking forward to your reactions.

Until next time!