Trotting up to the train station in Manehatten was a young Pegasi scholar, dark brown mane and light green coat dressed in an unusual combination of vest, shirt and pants - unlike most ponies around who often forewent the idea in disgust of covering their cutie mark. On each side of his hips rode a brown leather saddlebag - notebooks and papers overflowing from its barely buttoned top. Full of notes and journals related to his research - a new field of healthcare, one focused on the mind instead of the body. He was off to Canterlot to catch a hot air balloon to Cloudsdale. It wasn't as if he couldn't fly - of course he could. He managed to barely pass his flight exam when he was a young foal. Hot air balloon travel was just easier and safer - especially when carrying papers and research.
As he stepped onto the train and found a seat, he found himself reminiscing on the past - his upbringing in Cloudsdale. It had been such a long time since he had seen the fluffy white streets. He had left as soon as he could to pursue his research - but he never could have expected it to lead him back home. The call came in the form of a white envelope - no differentiating markings or even a return address. Inside was a simplistic and straightforward letter with no signature or name;
"We have heard of your research and want to offer an opportunity to study a yet to be documented condition.
As a former resident of Cloudsdale - and the only Pegasus nearby in this field, we expect that we will see you at 1 p.m. outside the weather factory. An associate will be there to meet you."
The situation was strange - ominous offers like this are uncommon - and even more uncommonly are accepted. But the possibility of forwarding the scholar's research was too tempting. Anyhow, Cloudsdale was always a safe place when he was young, what could go wrong?
He was snapped out of deep thought as the carriage jolted to a stop. He heard the conductor bellowing from the front of the train car "Canterlot!" This was his stop - had he been thinking for that long?
It was a short walk from the train to the air balloon stop, and the excitement only grew for the Green Pegasi. What kind of conditions would he encounter? What kind of help could he provide? Who exactly was hiring him? It was all a blur of thoughts and questions that came and went in the flap of a Pegasus' wings - that of which was becoming more and more common as he got closer to Cloudsdale. Pegasus returning home from work or visits to other places whizzed past, enjoying their flight through the sky. It caused the researcher's wings to twitch in excitement.
He was home.
His hoofs made contact with the fluffy cloud street outside of the air balloon drop-off, sending waves of nostalgia throughout his mind - pleasant memories of childhood friends, first love and his parents followed by bitter memories of first heartbreaks and the day he left. It was bittersweet. But there was little time for reminiscing on the past, the clock on the hot air balloon drop-off said it was quarter to one. He couldn't afford to be late. The soft thumps of his hooves sped up as he accelerated towards his destination - The Weather Factory.
After sprinting down the streets towards the weather factory - earning the researcher some concerned glares from the residents - he managed to arrive just before the clock struck 1. The delightful Westminster Chimes of the Clock sung, followed by a lone solitary ringing of the bell.
Almost as if awakened by the noise, a bright blue pony with a purple mane tied in a bun swung the door open, a look of joy spread across their face as their gaze met the researchers.
"Ah! I'm glad you could make it Mr. Thornbred. My name is Azure. I hope your trip was pleasant."
"I suppose it was. I was certainly excited to meet you! The letter you sent was rather mysterious and vague!" Thornbred replied as he trotted towards Azure, who quickly moved back inside the factory, suggesting that Thornbred should follow.
"Yes, sorry about that. The higher-ups have a strict policy on hiring external help. Something about the privacy of those within the corporation."
"I suppose so, but doesn't the weather factory offer tours to any pony that comes by? They have always been so open about most of their employees and operations. Why the need for such high security?" Thornbred scowled, thinking deeply about the situation. Whilst anonymity was a big factor in his research, this seemed a bit extreme. The weather factory was not only a factory, but somewhat of a tourist destination where employees would take Pegasus - even unicorns and earth ponies - from all over Equestria around the site. With such transparency, what exactly did they need to hide from anyone who might accidentally receive his letter?
Azure closed the door, keeping a generally joyous demeanour.
"Whilst that is mostly true Mr. Thornbred, the factory does attempt to be honest about its practices. There is one major exception, however. Sub-"
"Subsection 7R? I remember hearing all about it as a little foal. It's all everyone ever wanted to be - the ultimate dream in school. As I grew up, I somewhat doubted that it even existed." Thornbred butted in. He usually wasn't one to do this but having the sudden rush of memories come back from his childhood made his manners slip slightly, causing an interruptive outburst.
"Yep. Subsection 7R - one of the most important places in the whole factory. Where the components for rainbows are made - although I'm sure you knew that already." Azure took the reins of the conversation once more, leading Thornbred towards and up a staircase leading up to the upper levels of the factory. Normally they would fly up through the hole in the middle of the spiral, but she knew it would be nearly impossible with all the notes Thornbred was carrying.
"One thing I don't think you would have heard of however is the recent problems with ponies who work in that area. It has been nicknamed Factory Stress Desaturation. Or FSD."
"I'm assuming that's why I've been called here?" Thornbred responded, the ignition of a deep desire to discover all about FSD as they could sparking to life inside of their mind.
"I would assume so. As per usual when discussing Subjection 7R, the higher-ups don't provide any details to anyone who doesn't have clearance R - me included. I'm just some sort of messenger." Azure said with a hint of spite in her voice. It was easy to assume that she - alongside many ponies working at the factory - was always irritated by the fact that she wasn't allowed to enter that part of the facility - whether it be pride or curiosity. It was an irritating experience.
"Well, you looked to know what you were talking about," Thornbred responded, trying to cheer the down Pegasus up and distract them from the lack of position they desperately wished they had.
"It's difficult not to know at this point. The ponies with FSD stick out like an Earth pony in a crowd of Pegasus. Dull and zombie-like, with no expression on their faces. It's eerie."
Thornbred had heard of symptoms like this before in his excessive research - but never all at once. It was going to be a new experience studying ponies with the condition.
"But it's a job... I dreamed of working there since I was a foal. Looking out of my bedroom window and seeing the factory made me feel a way no other could." Azure continued, smiling widely as she recalled the fond memories of childhood.
"I understand that feeling - I always wanted to be a researcher of some kind. But it's also hard to deny that I wanted to work here too." Thornbred responded, recalling the past similarly to Azure, a similar feeling of warmth and nostalgia arising from the foggy images
"Who didn't? It was all anyone ever talked about in the playground. Well... except for the Wonderbolts of course. But the factory was where I belonged... It's even how I got my cutie mark!" Azure beamed, slowing down and raising the flank closest to Thornbred to show off the emblem on its surface; A sun covered partly by a cloud with 3 small snowflakes falling downwards towards her knee.
She quickly began walking normally again once Thornbred looked over. Thornbred smiled at the design. Cutie marks of all the different ponies were always interesting to look at - infinite possibilities all catered to the uniqueness of the individual.
"I remember when everyone was getting their cutie marks. It is always such a wonderful occasion - all excited and proud to finally have a purpose." Thornbred smiled warmly, recounting seeing all his friends gain their cutie marks in school.
"Wasn't so wonderful for me... I... Got mine later on in life... Spent most - maybe even all - of my childhood without one... I got bullied so much by the other kids for it. But it just made the day I got mine even better!" Azure proudly stated, lifting her head high in pride.
"Say, what about you? Don't see many ponies wearing pants. What's your cutie mark like?" Azure questioned Thornbred, looking back at the satchels on his hips.
"Oh, it's nothing special. Just a notepad with a drawing on it. Nothing too crazy or colourful." Thornbred responded, looking back towards where his cutie mark would be under the trousers.
"All cutie marks are special, even if they aren't colourful or dazzling in design. You should be proud of it!" Azure placed a hoof on Thornbred's shoulder in a reassuring gesture, smiling all the while.
"Who said I wasn't? I like it the way it is, alongside just so happening to like a more formal styling." Thornbred playfully replied, looking at Azure. "It also helps my little sister. She hasn't got hers yet and I don't want her staring at mine all day and getting jealous or worried that she hasn't got one."
"How old is she?"
"Still just a filly - constantly going on and on about how all her friends are getting them and that she doesn't want to wait. It hurts knowing that I can't help her."
"Maybe I can speak to her? I know how she is feeling - I may not be able to get her cutie mark for her, but I can ease the disappointment. It's the best thing to do to help a cutie-mark-less pony."
Thornbred nodded, opening his mouth to respond before he noticed that Azure suddenly stopped behind a red line on the floor. A large black door stood in front with text in its centre reading "Subsection 7R."
"Here we are." Azure stated, body frozen and not daring to move an inch forward "I'm not allowed to go further due to the entire clearance thing. Anyone who does is often fired on the spot. Wouldn't want that to happen."
"No, of course-"
Thornbred was interrupted, a loud clank being heard as the door swung open, two Pegasi in complete black jumpsuits and respirators walked out, a baton strapped to their back, lacking any sort of recognisable characteristic. They quickly move to either side of the door, allowing a third Pegasi to exit the room behind.
This pony looked older, with a partly grey mane and tail with some wrinkles on his red fur - mainly focused around his eyes and mouth. He was wearing a researcher's coat with a set of goggles on top of his head. He dismissively waves a hoof.
"Thank you Azure for delivering our friend here to Subsection 7R. You can take an early break if you desire."
Azure smiles towards Thornbred, nodding towards him as she turns around to go in the opposite direction "See you around then?"
"I hope so," Thornbred responds alongside a wave, focusing on the lead pony in front of him after Azure begins to trot away.
The lab pony in front speaks once more, the two masked ponies stay silent.
"It's nice to meet you Mr Thornbred, my name is Dr. Crowhop. I am the supervisor here in Subsection 7R. Please follow me."
His words are calm, collected and possibly even cold to some - but that's professionalism for you. Like a synchronized unit, both Dr. Crowhop and the two masked guards turn around. Dr. Crowhop leads, followed by one of the guards. The other behind Thornbred, making the option not to follow seem like not so much of an option at all. He slowly trots forward, not getting too close to the pony in front.
"So Mr. Thornbred, I've seen your research. Very impressive for a pony of your age. I'm glad you accepted this opportunity to work closely with the weather factory." He spoke with a flat and unchanging tone, with no energy - only authority - in his voice.
"Of course, it's an honour to work in a place like this, especially in this part of the factory." Thornbred's wings began to twitch in excitement again. It was hard to keep a professional front and hide the excitement from his childhood dream finally coming true.
"Yes. It is a big honour to be allowed behind these doors at all. Speaking of which, let's get you signed in. You'll need an ID card if you'll be working here."
Thornbred's mouth opened slightly in shock - it all made sense of course. ID cards allow the workers to access this part of the factory and all within it. But he never expected to get one! It was a dream come true, making his inner child jump with excitement.
But alas, he kept his professional front.
"Yes, of course. What do I have to do?"
"We need you to provide a picture and other formal details - nothing too out of the ordinary. Then you'll be free to roam around certain sections of the facility to do your job."
"Which is what exactly? You haven't quite told me." Thornbred scowled lightly, confused at the way Dr. Crowhop was introducing him to the workplace. Normally the job is described before being signed in.
"You'll see...."
The registration process was quick, name and date of birth alongside a feather from Thornbred's wing. It was a strange requirement, but Crowhop insisted that it was just a form of identification for other staff and security - such as the two masked ponies by his side.
Before long he was roaming the halls of Subsection 7R. Long strips of colour lined the hallway, all indicating pathways to different parts of the facility. Different areas passed by as Dr Crowhop and the guards marched Thornbred towards an unknown destination;
Raw Material Storage, Spectre production, Rainbow Assembly, Waste Disposal.
They all seemed relatively unremarkable - no special indicators or designs on the doors or walls around them. However, the smell emanating from the rooms was hardly pleasant - reminiscent of wet wood and leaves. It was like anything he had smelled before.
Other ponies also walked past in the opposite direction, varying in age, gender and attire. There seemed to be 3 attires that the ponies appeared in:
Ponies wearing white lab coats, goggles, masks and gloves that are always stained with different colours of the rainbow. Thornbred could only assume they were the ones who assembled the rainbow.
Boiler suit ponies that carried toolboxes around on their back. By the toolbox and the deep oily red stains all over their uniform, they were mechanics of some kind. It was a factory after all. But alas they seemed far less common than the other ponies, only appearing once in a dozen
These were all something Thornbred had seen before however, mechanics and doctors were common enough in Manehatten and even in Equestria or the nearby Ponyville. The third however was something that seemed to be restricted to Subsection 7R.
These ponies wore all black, no determining details except for a string of numbers on the side of their jumpsuits. They wore a full facial mask that made it impossible to see their faces - alongside a hood that made it even more difficult to see their identity. The final detail of their strange attire was a device strapped to their side, completely black with metal prongs sticking out of one end.
The closest Thornbred had ever seen to ponies like these were security ponies at events and meetings of royalty - it would make sense as they were also the ones that Dr Crowhop had following behind him. But they seemed to do a lot around 7R: pushing carts full of trash bags into the waste disposal section and pulling carts into the Raw Material section. Their anonymity made them seem almost unpony-like, like robots with no personality or identity.
His thoughts were interrupted as he gently bumped into the back of the guard in front. Dr Crowhop had stopped in front of a door labelled "Meeting Room 4."
"Come Mr. Thornbred. Let's discuss what tasks you're going to do here in Subsection 7R."
Thornbred nodded, walking into the room and sitting down on one of the few chairs around a small table - a small pile of papers already on its surface. Dr. Crowhop and the guards followed afterwards, closing the door behind them.
"So Mr. Thornbred, what do you already know about Subsection 7R?" Crowhop questioned, locking eyes with Thornbred.
"I know that it's where rainbows are produced... And... I've... also heard that there is a small phenomenon with the ponies that work here... c-called FSD." His voice shook as he spoke. Dr. Crowhop's stare bore into his brain like a nail. He couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Yes, FSD is what the workers around here call it. It has always been an issue here due to the stressful nature of our work. But recently rates have begun to rise. Originally, we only had to replace one to two employees every dozen moons. But now we are going through seven to eight per moon." Crowhop finally broke his one-sided staring contest with Thornbred to look down at the stack of papers - handing them over to Thornbred
"We called you here to find out a way of reducing - possibly even stopping - the development in this 'FSD', if it even exists at all."
Thornbred looked down at the paper. It was the start of a lengthy contract of the terms and conditions of his work in the factory; a long list of points stating what he could and couldn't do and lots of other legal jargon. All ending with a request for a signature.
"Whilst you do your research, we will provide accommodation within the factory workers' living quarters alongside food and water. You will also receive payment upon completion of your task. All you have to do is sign it, and you can begin your research."
Normally Thornbred would read through the entirety of these kinds of documents. There were plenty of stories from across Equestria about how these can go wrong if you don't read them. But the stares of Dr Crowhop and the mere presence of the two guards made the situation feel urgent as if there was no time to think about the decision. His eyes skimmed over the several pages of words before finally landing on the signature line. It was now over never.
He pulled a pen from his bag with his teeth and scribbled his signature down just above the line. Quickly sliding it back towards Dr Crowhop.
"Good. I'm glad to have you assist us with this issue Mr. Thornbred. 40 will lead you to your room where you can begin your research." Dr. Crowhop stood up and walked towards the door, not even looking back at Thornbred as he spoke to him. One of the guards opened the door, allowing him to leave.
The other guard trotted to Thornbred's side, awaiting him to follow. The stitching on the side of the uniform indicated that this was the number 40 that Crowhop mentioned. There was very little reason to stay in this room after Dr Crowhop's departure, so Thornbred followed after 40 towards his quarters where he would likely be staying for a few moons whilst doing his research. The question was of course...
Where to start?
