I remember when I was a little colt, there was this plague... a very dangerous plague, that cost lives of the ponies very dear to me. Then this rainbow maned mare came to me and said: "If you want to make it out alive, you need to go with me." I valued my life more than anything in the world. So I followed her.
In front of me, there was a very big factory. Many famous ponies worked there. Or should I say, many famous pegasi. Yes, this is a Pegasi factory. Pegasi. Overmare's favorite kind. I know that if I was not a pegasi, she would have left me to die. Thankfully, I have wings, so I had at least a little respect from the others. Good, healthy wings. I used to think that having normal, healthy wings is natural to every pegasi. Sadly, I was wrong about this. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I was wrong about many things in life.
Oh, how stupid it was of me to think that Overmare would never cut a pegasi's wing. Oh, how stupid of me. This wasn't any better. I would just shrug it off as if it wasn't important. "Oh, I should be glad that it wasn't me getting dewinged," I thought to myself. I thought that I was okay, that I was just like anypony else in this factory. I thought I was safe, that I escaped the plague. I thought that life was the most important thing ever. I lost friendship. I lost love. But I still had respect. And I was surviving. "I will make it out of there alive," I told myself one day.
Of course, it didn't end very well. Ponies hated me for leaving. As soon as I went downstairs. I became a nobody to Overmare. She knew I wasn't like any other pony else. She did pick me up from the world of plague and mutations where unicorns and earth ponies would all eventually eat each other. Yes, it was horrible back there. Thankfully, I was a pony from Cloudsdale and more importantly, a pegasi from Cloudsdale. Otherwise, I would have been living a life full of shame. I mean, who am I even kidding? Obey the Overmare 100% or you're asking for death on the silver plate.
You'd get killed just to show an example on what not to do. Unless you want to be killed. This one filly Scootaloo was devastated to see her unicorn friend Sweetie Belle and her earth pony friend Apple Bloom pass away because of the infection. Rainbow Dash wanted Scootaloo to survive, but when Scootaloo refused to get her wings cut off to prevent the infection from spreading amongst the Rainbow Factory ponies, Rainbow Dash was enraged and bucked Scootaloo to death.
Why? Because Dr. Atmosphere was watching that day. She spoke to everybody in a very serious tone. Her soul got a little darker. I swear I saw it. She declared to be the Overmare forever. Regardless of how close you were to her in the previous life, if you aren't her "friend" in the factory too, you are nothing to her. Her sharp, cold, irritated, yet seemingly emotionless voice. Her beautiful pink colored eyes hidden behind her battle scars. A beautiful rainbow mane accompanied by the grayscale tail. She has all those things, maybe, except the tail that are all very dear to every pony she befriended in her previous life.
No, Rainbow Dash doesn't keep in touch with the ponies that were close to her in the previous life, filled with all kinds of pony kinds and various creatures. That life is over for Rainbow Dash. That life is also over for all the ponies in a factory. We promised to never leave the factory. Years, months, weeks, many deaths and days pass by, and they try to make us forget who we were. I wish I could forget, but I can't fit in, with all the rage inside of me. All the madness never leaving Rainbow Dash's mind. Yes, she's my idol. She's my savior. But is this how I really want it? All these thoughts never leave my mind. "What am I doing? Am I trying to get myself killed? Hell, no."
Yet every day I think about the meaning of life. Is life a mere survival? I worked so hard to get as far as I could. To get things beyond survival, to gain respect, to gain trust, to gain some control of myself. To be more than some weakling. I tried. But in the end, I had to die like anybody else. I saved no one. What have I done? Is survival important? I was her soldier. She was my Overmare. She cared about me. I was useful at a factory yet I felt awful. Is this how victory feels like?
On one hoof, If I stayed in a vibrant life that not so many workers in the Rainbow Factory remember, I probably would have died from the infection that does awful things to you. Coming somewhere safe must have been a good decision, right? Everything after that I only did to survive. Survival isn't magic. But survival is life. And life is important to every pony. Living a life where I have no one to turn to. Everyone thinks only about themselves. Except Rainbow Dash. The factory is written all over her. Why is she like this? Did she ever have the thoughts I had? No, probably not. She is perfect. Maybe one day I could have made it to her place. My own room locked with a special code. What code she has? She never told me. She's not stupid at all. She's perfect at everything. Great sense of direction, great agility. Everypony respects her.
I heard Scootaloo died in the end because she so-called never had a good sense of direction. Was Scootaloo stupid? No. Was Scootaloo a failure? She will never be a failure to me. She fought for what she knew. I should respect that. She fought for the good ethical Equestria. She fought for the old Rainbow. I never heard much of the old Rainbow. But she had to be great in there as well. I'll never forget how she rescued me. Is this how I thank her? Questioning the world she gave me a chance to live in? I'm a great pegasus. Born in Cloudsdale. I can fly well, I stay safe and I'm just obeying the requests of my Overmare. Her pink eyes look at my work.
Every other pair of eyes look at me in disgust. But they only know that there's one pair of eyes that matters to me. They don't know what's hidden on me. Something I've tried to ignore for too long. They don't know the voice inside of me, telling me to escape. My mind says survive, but my heart says life. And in life there's only one pair of eyes that truly matters. Those who saw the real me. The rose I picked up from the garden to give to my mom. This life matters.
