Awake.

Meesley opens his eyes. His back lays on some cold, hard surface. But truthfully, this feels so much warmer than yesterday. He could probably melt and stay there forever. Simply laying there, and not thinking about much other than-maybe-what a mess this life of his is.

His ears twitch at the sounds of thunk-ing, the sound of metal on metal. Rhythmically almost, with a consistent beat that sounds almost like trotting. Suddenly, the sound stops and something wooshes through the air. Wet, slimy cloth hits him in the face, causing Meesley to jolt up.

"Time to wake up, little princess," Beta calls to him, "Work calls."

He lifts the oily rag off-of his face using his magic and throws it back at his sister, but she simply dodges it. It reminds him of sparring with her when they used to be in the guard, though that may have never occurred to this version of her. He shivers at that line of thought. That all of the ponies he meets from one day to another day could be different versions of themselves, rather than...being themselves!

He is letting himself get consumed in thought again, that's not really great. Especially when Beta is patiently waiting for him at the door to his dormitory. So he gets up and starts to follow her.

At this point, Meesley begins to realize the EVERYTHING here is made out of metal. The loud floor, the walls, probably even the roof if it wasn't so far away as to be shrouded in darkness. Everything is made up of the same grey steel. 'Is this more awe inspiring or terrifying,' he asks himself.

Soft whirring of machinery, and whizzing of steam in pipes echoes within the large room they are walking through. The grating they walk on clacks as it shakes, but it seems solid enough to Meesley.

"Uh, Beta, where are we going right now?" he asks.

"Beta? It's Theta," the mare corrects, "We've known each other since we signed up to work here. I'd have thought you knew my name by now, I am heartbroken," she finishes, sarcastically.

Meesley laughs weakly, "Sorry, Theta. Where are we heading?"

"Not sure, yet. Work distribution said we'll be needed in the command center(C.C.)today. Maybe we actually get to do something exciting," she says as the ducks under a pipe. Meesley nearly hits it, clearly to large for the small passageway they have been squeezing through.

The manufactory, or as some called it 'the machine' had been built as a response to the incident that sparked the war against the Pegasi. A massive, mobile fortress built for the manufacture and distribution of weaponry. It was built for utility, not comfort. If it had a mind, it would likely want the destruction of everypony, no matter what side it was on.

'Wonderful,' he thinks to himself, 'I am in a war-zone again. At least I am not at the fronts again.'

The thought made him uneasy. It had been quite some time since he last had to fight in a war. Meesley had heard all the propaganda against pegasi, unicorns, griffins, even zebras. All the lies why it was his moral duty to fight, and why the enemy was nothing but evil blood-sucking monsters. He'd be too ashamed to admit it, but in the moment...he had believed some of it, too.

Throughout his many 'adventures,' he had seen horrors beyond comprehension. He had led armies to war, and he had enabled nations to go to war. He helped in the development of spears, firearms, megaspells, and self-spreading curses. The thought of all of it made him ill.

"I hope it won't be so awful this time," he murmurs to himself.

"What's that?" Zeta asked him.

"Nothing, just talking to myself," Meesley defends before the two turn and stand before two massive doors with a solar guard standing on either side.

The doors slowly-ominously-open to reveal the central control hub(C.C.H) of the complex. Massive windows, reinforced with shield spells allow for some of the only natural light in the manufacture to flood into the room. Ponies sitting in front of screens, typing away at keyboards, all in uniform.

As Meesley and Zeta bawk in awe, they notice their leader...

Empress Celeste stood imposingly on a pillar in the center of the room, overseeing the entirety of the intelligence moving through mission command(M.C.). She was currently talking to a pony taking notes on a pad of paper, nodding along to what she was saying. Most ponies working here don't get to see her, since she is-

Meesley briefly stops. The empress looked almost nightmarish. Scars marred her face and neck, and she...start above, she didn't have any wings. What happened?

'The secession,' he can feel the memory forming in his brain.

The day the entirety of the pegasus species withdrew from harmony and Equestria, they decided to leave a 'parting gift' for their ruler. The media said it was a wonder that she survived at all, but some say that she didn't. Many who revolted against war and revenge, who said that this wasn't the way of harmony or their ruler, were taken care of...

"Oh Tia, what have they done to you now?" he questions under his breath, "And where is Luna?"

She never returned.

As Delta and Meesley arrive on the side of the room, they make their way up the spire until they face Celeste.

"Ah, Meesley and Delta," the queen says stoically as she turns from her squire, "I have a mission for the two of you."

"Thank you, your highness," the two say in tandem, bowing before their leader.

"It has come to our attention," the unicorn with the notebook begins, "That some of the workers in the machine-room may be traitors to the crown. Rumors have been heard that they are beginning to question the motives of our infallible leader. First they start to ask questions, next we may see them revolve all-together! So, we need your past experience as military personnel to...um, to make sure we...to disp-"

"Kill them. All of them," Celeste abruptly finishes for the pony. Again, showing no emotion.

The two startle back and share a glance. Celestia would never say or mean such a thing, not even in implication. But then again, this seems to be an entirely different being from his old friend.

Stars above, there have to be dozens of ponies down there and he is supposed to just...

He can't do this!

At the lack of response, Lady Celeste adds, "Unless you were to be traitors too, then I would not make you harm your like-minded friends." She points her horn towards the two.

"N- no, of course not! We would be glad to help the empire be rid of such...cretins," Eta answers quickly, "I- isn't that right, Meesley?"

He nods quickly.

"Good," Celeste continues before turning back to her helper, "Prepare them for their task."

As the two descend into the belly of the machine, heavily armed with spears and in two suits of armor, neither of them dares to speak a word. The only sounds are the clunking of their shoes on the metal floor. Meesley tries to focus his breathing and calm down a little.

He shouldn't be this weak!

He has faced nightmares beyond comprehension, lost his mind on many occasions, has lost all of his friends thousands of times, and even lost his family...

But this shouldn't hurt him so much! He is removing the traitorous scum that infests this beautiful mechanism of war. He is cleansing and cleaving it of the true evil in this wo-

'Oh Celestia, no! Now I am really starting to think this way again? It's been...what...an hour?'

But the blame doesn't fully fall on him, does it? The universe...something's there, controlling this. He doesn't need to take all the blame for what is being crammed inside of his head! The things he does, and sees from day to day aren't his fault!

They are.

"NO, THEY ARE NOT!" he yells, startling Theta.

(They somewhat are.)

"They are not what?" Theta asks.

"I am not sure we can take 50+ ponies," Meesley deflects the subject, "What if they overwhelm us? It could start a full-on revolt..."

"I don't mean to sound depressing," Theta responds, "But I think that this is a lose-lose situation for us no matter what. It was wonderful to know you over the past weeks, but this seems to be where we die. I...am sorry."

His eyes begin to water lightly, and he quietly says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Beta looks at him, confused.

'Of course,' he is slightly annoyed.

As they reach the very top of the iron fortress, they approach the heavy iron doors marked 'machine room.' They do final preparations, and make sure their scant armor is as tight as possible. They draw their swords with their magic and enter the loud room.

The dozen ponies inside turn around at the sudden light pouring in from the windowed hallway.

"For crimes against the crown," Meesley starts, "And for disobeying the word of our dearest Queen. You have all been sentenced to death. Please r- remain calm and prepare for your immediate e- ... for your immediate execution."

The ponies, dirtied with grease and carbon dust, turn to each other in shock. All except for a white mare, who looks at them- no, at him inquisitively.

"What are our charges?" one pony cries out.

"We have done nothing but follow your orders!" another yells.

"What are you?" the white mare says, almost too quiet to hear over the ruckus.

"Can we challenge this decision?" yet another pony asks.

"Please, you can't do this!" an out-of-sight pony yells.

But the two of them had a job to do, so they went to work...

...

Covered in blood, and panting with exhaustion, the Zeta and Meesley were ready nearly done with their work.

They simply stared at each other in abject horror of what they had done.

Their victims, their faces seemingly still pleading at them to spare them, lying motionless on the ground.

...

"We can't continue to-" Meesley begins to say as he sees a shadow moving through the light.

He turns around only to see a glimpse of another dozen ponies pouring into the room, and a hammer flying towards his face.

He wore no armor, and no helmet.

He thought he heard Zeta yell something, but all he could focus on were the beginnings of a crunch.

Sleep.

Author's Note

I hope you forgive me for these darker two chapters. It should get happier for the next chapters, until the actual story begins. (Ooh, spoiler? Not really.)
She has had her fun with him, and deems the punishment is complete.
It may take some time for a new chapter to be released.

Important note:
None of these are his crimes, not fully. While we can not be hurt by fictional weapons. We, too, have been hurt by him and his follies.

Also, because I believe it would help, I have included a description of who is talking/writing based on emphasis:
(Me, the author. Or a a being in the story acting as the author.)
She. The 'universe' as he calls her.
Otherwise, it should mostly be his point of view.