Author's Notes:

Once again, thank you; redskin122004, Kizuna Tallis and Doctor Fluffy.

The PER

Full Title: Ponification For Earth’s Rebirth

Founder: Doctor Jacqueline Dionna Reitman (medical license revoked, currently in custody awaiting execution)

Group Creation Date: Unknown (estimated to be around autumn 2018)

Current status: Fractured (leadership and majority of members scattered following the assault and subsequent nuking of Washington D.C. and harsher crackdowns on Solar Empire sympathizers) Strongholds found throughout the Pacific, Stampede Fleet lead by Captain Kleiner slowly whittling them away.

Quite possibly the most despised faction of the Conversion War, the PER were pro-Solar Empire humans and ponies who conspired to bring humanity at large to its knees . Even the HLF at their worst never reached the depths of depravity of the PER, who indiscriminately targeted people from all walks of life, all in the name of “saving” the human race. They were also known to kidnap ponies to “save” them from being allegedly corrupted by humanity, either throwing them to the Solar Empire’s gulags or to the infamously hellish re-education centers. One pony, Trim Bonsai, who had taken up residence in Japan once joked that between them and the HLF, he was “between a rock and a hard place, both rushing at me.”

There are few, if any PER left, because in the presence of most anyone that did not support the Solar Empire, their lifespan was best measured in minutes.

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

Before the war, the amount of times the Solar Tyrant made public appearances, known as Queen Celestia at the time, totalled three times before her declaration of war.

First time was introducing herself and her world to the Earth.

The second time was at the UN building to sign an agreement and join Earth in "friendship".

The last time was at a medical conference held in Osaka, Japan.

There, she met a bright, long established doctor that will go down in history as one of the most hated people in Earth’s history, on par with the Nazi leader Adolf Hitler.

Little is known on why the Tyrant desired to have a human face for the PER, and many things about the days before the war are shrouded in mystery. But meeting one Doctor Jacqueline Dionna Reitman was the beginning of a road that would paved with the bodies of millions, if not billions.

Interview with Doctor Jacqueline Dionna Reitman.

“Hello, welcome back to Good Morning America. With me today is a very well respected member of the medical community who is pushing for a new 'miracle' cure coming from the magical world of Equestria, and from what I’ve seen, it’s quite impressive. Doctor Jacqueline Dionna Reitman everyone."

*polite cheers and clapping*

Doctor Reitman is a woman in her forties, though she looks almost thirty, and she has curly auburn hair. Her brown eyes are framed by glasses, her skin clear. She is the picture of professionalism. She’s well dressed for the occasion. "Hello, everyone, thank you for having me here today. It’s quite an honor.”

"Now then, Doctor-"

"Please, Jacqueline is fine."

"Oh! Okay then, Jacqueline. You are making waves in the medical community for pushing the strange new medicine, or 'potion' as they say in Equestria, known as the ponification potion. Tell me, why are you pushing for such thing?"

“Because I believe it can make everything better. It can wash away your imperfections, and allow you to achieve your fullest potential,” Reitman smiles. “This potion actually cleanses away debilitating diseases, and even heals the crippled in mind and body. You see, despite advancements in modern medicine to treat cancer, prevention tactics, genetic testing for vulnerabilities to certain ailments like Huntington’s and Parkinson’s, we haven’t found full cures. There is also the issue of those who are physically crippled, be it losing a limb in an accident, or a soldier losing a leg because he stepped on a mine, or sufferers of paralysis, or even something like being blind or deaf. This potion gets rid of all of these ailments and corrects these physical impairments, giving people a second chance at living life once again.”

"I see, I see. Still, a big question still remains is why such a cure needs to change something so drastic just to give the patient a fighting chance? I mean, I’m sure most of us would like to keep our hands, for instance."

Reitman smiles again. “It can be inconvenient, not having opposable thumbs, but the fact that the ponies have built an entire civilization and even cities quite similar to our own makes it clear they’ve been able to get along fine, and there are already many ponies more than willing to help anyone who’s changed be able to readjust and still do the things they like, with certain accommodations of course.”

"There is still the issue of changing the body of the patient. Is there something that goes on? A trade of sorts, if I am reading the situation correctly?"

"The potion makes these changes due to giving the patient a 'clean slate'. Regrowing an arm is far more painful due to our lack of magic, plus the fact of our said lack of magic is deadly to us. The potion works in steps. First is the change itself, which actually requires less magic than you believe. Enough that it is tolerable and not hurt the patient. The second step is the actual healing magic. Even with magic, there is a trade off. Walk on four legs, while gaining the ability to fly, use magic, or gain incredible strength. Or be miserable and in pain for months or years?”

"Of course. Still, I would have believed that magic would not be limited by such a thing."

"Magic is still something the ponies study; it’s like a science to them,” Reitman smirks. "But the magic is limited to us. Our bodies cannot handle it, or else they will fall apart. And I do mean fall apart at a molecular level. It’s our bodies that limit the use of magic. Something that the potion can solve indefinitely."

Behind the Scenes

What information gained showed that Reitman had been busy after her meeting with the Tyrant. Meeting with various medical practitioners around the world.

Always with a white unicorn pony with an orange-pink mane and gold-rimmed glasses by her side, and always to doctors with a rather specific mental profile. Vague yet workable dislike of humanity, pessimism, ecological awareness, all were criteria she looked for.

These meetings would always end the same. The doctors changed their practice from healing to simply giving most of their patients a bottle of potion. With most of these doctors being well respected and liked, no one really questioned why, save for organizations like the Food and Drug Administration.

Until they received a visit from Dr. Reitman herself.

They made almost a complete 180 that aroused the suspicion of many.The FDA began dropping cases filed against the doctors en masse, being insistent, some would say far too insistent, that the potion was completely harmless. Some said it was charisma; others said she and her unicorn assistant, and possibly Celestia herself had a peculiar force about them. Of course, now we know.

They had used magic to convince the organizations and people that they visited. They would look into the minds of officials with authority on the subject, subtly rearranging things so they would be more amenable to the use of potion

About six months after it was made for public distribution, almost several millions of people were changed, and a small movement called the HTF, also known as the Harriet Thomas Foundation, began in response to people’s concerns over the newfoals’ personality changes.

Though both pro-Equestrian and pro-human factions were in their infancy, nowhere near the juggernauts of world policy they would become, both were impossible to ignore. “Is it all truly an accident?” pro-human activists asked. “Hell of a convenient one at that.” Or something to that effect.

“Ponify yourselves, or it will swallow you!” the pro-Equestrian activists would say. Small wonder that they found themselves at loggerheads so quickly.

Others took Dr. Reitman’s praise of Equestria as something holy almost. They came to believe the arrival of Equestria was a sign of humanity’s future.

Or rather, lack thereof. It turned into something almost cult-like, almost religious, and Dr. Reitman was their high priestess. They started saying that ponies were better than humans, that everyone would be so much happier as ponies, even as the first reports of the generally off-putting nature of newfoals slowly filtered into public consciousness.

They believed the barrier would purify the world of taint, corruption and pollution, and the ponies would bring true heaven to earth. That it would all be reborn into something newer, and better. And then they, in a fit of lunatic self-loathing, denounced their humanity, and dedicated themselves to carrying on the work of the Equestrians. They would “save” humanity from its shackles and vices, whether it wanted to be saved or not.

And the slogan would become their name.

Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth.

Name: Dr. Ernst Kasparek
Nationality: Latvia, born in Riga.
Status: Currently institutionalized in Ecuador, expected to make a full recovery.

When looking at Ernst Kasparek, one would never figure him for a man who changed the face of the war. He’s small at five foot three, his face is that pale grayish-white indeterminate smooth that comes from youth, graceful aging, and heavy medication, and his prematurely white hair is thin and wispy. He is wheelchair bound, slumped and sinking into his chair. Tremors wrack his thin body as he coughs and coughs. Unrelated to all this is the metal plate in his skull.

One would never figure him for a man who walked among such greats as Cheerilee, Marcus Renee, Stephan Bauer, Trixie Lulamoon, and other heavy hitters of the PHL. Or the man who stayed on Earth in the two weeks before the invasion of Equestria, for the simple reason that “Should not put eggs in one basket! PHL there already getting better weapons - I don’t want everyone left to be hopeless outclassed!” and personally delivered enhanced weaponry and armor to Cheerilee, Viktor Kraber, and other soldiers of the PHL before the Battle of Canterlot.

His room is a virtual art gallery, full of photos and paintings of his home city of Riga, overlapping in a vast collage of memories. The Cathedral Dome, next to pictures of music festivals. A river, quite likely the Daugava, takes up one wall, lined with pictures of buildings in its unique Eastern European style. At some points, the river appears to be frozen, at others, it is quite clearly summer. There are photos of boats crudely pasted onto the river. Yet, in the middle of it all, in the middle of this shrine to the city he so loved, is Ernst Kasparek himself, playing a videogame. His voice is peculiarly stretched and hoarse, in that manner that can make your eyes water of their own accord.

He has earned his rest, in this psychiatric hospital in Ecuador. He looks for all the world like a kindly, content middle-aged man, minus the rampant guilt and PTSD.

First question into our interview, his face darkens.

“Reitman?” his eyes narrow. “Whack that evil whore for all the crap she put the world through, you’ve got to rip off her head and piss in her skull!”

While I admitted that sort of thing might be up someone else's alley, it was not my cup of tea. I frown at him at his raspy growl before giving a soft cough, this is not why I am here.

“Everyone say in the beginning, ‘We had good intention!’“ Dr. Kasparek says, adopting a mock-protesting tone that makes my eyes water from its wet raspy tone. “Fuck my intention.”

“What was the PER like before the war?”

“Vicious goddamn cult worshiping pony,” Dr. Kasparek says. If anyone has a right to be bitter, it’s him. “I… stay with PER. Almost three years I stay. Not sure if out of fear or not. I saw and did things that your news may have covered. May have not. Either way, I would much prefer not tell you. I was scared by what I saw turn into, but I wanted to help! I wanted to make the world better. Instead, I help kill off two thirds of the world.”

“What made you wish to leave them?”

“I felt left behind,” Dr. Kasparek says simply. “Have never been too susceptible to Equestrian mind magic. Perhaps the plate in my head that scrambles it somehow. Most of my family was newfoals, because I had urged them on. My daughter, Rebecca, ran away before I could try and fill her head of the junk. Is somewhere in America, raising funds to rebuild. Will never speak to me.”

Tears began to stream down his face. “They… try… love me. They try, even as newfoals. They fail, even as everyone tells me ‘Ernst, we need your hands to craft this.’ I sit at a workbench, creating gear for pony soldier. I make armor that looks like Orokin, because it is all shiny and gold while untold millions suffer, while I sit back and watch them enhance them further. No thanks, just a grunt of what could be approval. PER says that forcing ponies to use dirty tools of humanity is wrong, beneath them. I am unloved. Unappreciated. Working for ponies who will consider me less than cannon fodder. Among ponies who ignore my advice, simply because I remain human, they are pony. And after awhile, I feel doubt. I see what my work is used for. I see them…. use potion within pinatas. I see conversion of babies in hospitals. Bombing of cities and destruction of history. I am lied to - I ask ponies to salvage artwork or anything of humanity worth keeping. Continually, they. Say. NOTHING. It was like goddamn… abyss. Despair all while. You reach a point where you ask if it is really worth it. And no. It wasn’t. In third year, I emigrated.”

"To where?"

“Wherever PER was not. I poured over the news. Documents. Anything. Anyone willing to cooperate. Anyone who still trusted magic. Finally, I decide on the group that everyone thought would fail, the PHL. They're too idealistic, everyone said. Humans and ponies couldn’t trust each other, they said. Not enough pull compared to other groups, they said. Expected to fail with in a year, blatantly spies, things like that. Yet… they were open-minded enough that they wouldn’t kill on sight, and they were refreshingly honest. If that wouldn’t work, I would make my way to Brazil. So one night, I take a shotgun and steal plane to America. I load the plane with stolen enhanced armor, and fly. Land in Florida with a near-empty tank, rent a car, and drive. Next thing I knew, I have HLF member with a gun in my face - I protest. I do everything possible to get away, taken a bullet to the shoulder. Hurt like hell. I take it to New York, the city where Lyra was staying, of course. Rumored where a PHL headquarters was being built. Had contacted her, made plans to deliver her some enchanted gear. Imperial Ponies teleport around me; PER broke my legs in fight beyond repair.” he gestured to his wheelchair. “Fought them off with a shotgun. Used cruise control to get to the city. Was bitch to use off highways.”

He sighs. “Then was attacked again. They must have realized what I was doing as they seemed to dog me until I crashed. I thought I was done and over with. To fail once again. I remember watching a new foal standing over me and readying a potion when she appeared."

"She pushed him off, her saddle bag open up and half a dozen arms sprang out, all of them with guns in hand. She jumped around, running around with those guns going off and taking them down, batting spells out of existence with her arms and beating of those that got too close. Then her would-be guardian show up and take care of the rest. You… You and Lyra. Like angels. I can remember that day. You stared at me, trying to crawl to my shotgun, and said ‘So you’re the man trying to smuggle that PER equipment?’ And I told both of you that… I gave up on PER. Was like someone took all the souls in them and left a giant void in the shape of a smile. Then Lyra walked up to me and told me that they needed to take my sorry ass to the hospital. I... that mare is too kind, she should have left me to die."

"Lyra saw someone in trouble. Wouldn't be the first time she has done something like that."

"All I have to say that it was you two that finally made me realize what we could accomplish."

"Lyra I can understand. Me? I'm no one."

"Says the man that is destined to save us all from a living death..."

"What?"

"Ignore the ramblings of a guilt-ridden old man. I grow tired, Colonel. Please. Allow me to rest my eyes. Just… remember, Colonel. Remember who you are to all those that you lead."

A House in Flames

“This ain’t war, but the breaking of seals. The undoing of life itself.”
Captain (then Chief Warrant Officer) Rebecca Kleiner, on the Battle of Washington D.C.

While the HLF had the subtlety of a chainsaw, were considered a threat to general human-pony cooperation and were known to brazenly advertise their doings all over the internet, the PER were more of an underground movement. The struck from the shadows, and used every advantage to ensure the largest possible amount of converted humans. Entire cities had the potential to be quarantined thanks to them. They infiltrated buildings such as retirement homes, maternity wards, daycare centers, and anywhere that a large numbers of relatively defenseless humans lived, taking large numbers of what were branded easy targets, including the poor, the homeless, cripples and defenseless elderly people and children. Some PER members were even known to tamper with everyday objects that would ensure a person would come into contact with the potion. The worst known cases were when birthday parties and other social gatherings full of people ended up getting ponified.

Over the course of 2019 to the early quarter of 2020, it didn’t escape the notice of anyone that there had been a string of disappearances and kidnappings going on throughout the US, Canada, and Mexico, though numerous statisticians had noted that the kidnappings fitting the pattern had actually dated back before Equestria’s Conversion Bureaus and Ponification potion. The PHL had just begun to establish itself as a bona fide military force and official military forces were already busy with evacuations and fighting off Equestrian forces. Local law enforcement and the FBI’s abilities to solve these crimes and arrest PER agents were a mixed bag, yielding less than savory results. Newfoals were easier to get rid of due to their highly conspicuous nature and personality, but human members were masters at blending into the underbelly, and expansive areas of wilderness made it harder to reach those newfoals that were able to hide more successfully.

As the official war raged on and the HLF gained attention from the authorities for their extreme methods and disregard for collateral damage and life, the PER had gained enough newfoals at its disposal and enough ponification serum, though where they gotten such things is beyond anyone’s guess. In June 2020, they decided enough was enough, and decided to strike fast and hard into a place where they knew they could “help” their Equestrian masters and destroy one of the major cogs in humanity’s war machine.

Washington D.C.

It was unknown if they planned the entire attack around the same time every American official was present in the White House or if they just got lucky. What is known was that they attacked and they attacked with force unheard of before.

Thousands of newfoals, smuggled across the country by human PER members along with ponification potions came down on Washington D.C. They struck as one and within minutes of launching the attack, the entire city was embroiled in a war of survival. Thousands of innocents were potioned in the first hour alone and converted into newfoals in the effort to bring down the human war effort in the Americas.

White House Secret Service agents were unable to evacuate President Davis and the dozens of officials, including one Colonel Renee and Cheerilee Cherry. However, the White House managed to hold out for several hours against the horde of new foals thanks to dozens of defenses along with a small group of PHL ponies helping them.

American troops and armor were unable to make a push for the White House due to the growing numbers, even having growing trouble in containing the rising threat when the call went out to fall back a safe distance. It was likely this battle that would make even the most hard-line human generals so receptive to magical enhancement, as it showcased humanity’s disadvantages. While human forces had the upper hand in strategic and technological advantages, ponies of the Empire had more than enough numbers to simply overwhelm humanity, and the magic to make it wholly possible to require a magazine of unenhanced ammo to kill an Imperial pony. Granted, those were rare incidents, but humans were growing irritated and tired of how hard it was to take them down. It also didn’t help that the newfoals’ lack of survival instinct, willingness to ignore pain receptors, and tendency to keep going despite their injuries made it either a waste of bullets or a waste of time to shoot for the center of mass. This is also likely responsible for the trend of human militaries resorting to higher-caliber weaponry, switching out lighter assault rifles for heavier battle rifles, and so on and so forth.

President Davis called Washington D.C. a lost city and proceeded to call in for multiple nuclear strikes at the country's capital, if only to keep out a foothold for the Tyrant as information came in that a permanent portal station was being set up at the Washington Monument.

It was a move that was horrifyingly similar to what happened a year earlier in North Korea. While the President and a few others escaped, it is unknown to this day just how many people were still inside the city or trying to escape when the bombs fell.

Some people tried to reassure themselves by saying that the people there were already dead, with so many newfoals and ponies nearby. It didn’t help.

In the ensuing months, any PER members that weren’t a part of the Washington D.C. assault were ruthlessly hunted down as the entire country was out for blood. Law enforcement and military forces began to conduct citywide searches; homes, warehouses, office complexes were thoroughly searched and cleared. Forest regions were scanned from the air and the ground, mountains and cave systems explored. Any feasible hiding spot found itself in the light.

And so did the scores of PER bases. Newfoals were killed on sight. What few human members were dragged out, many of them tortured for days on end before they were killed. While militaries frowned on torture, it was unlikely that anyone would come up to defend PER agents. And nobody, save for other PER agents, did.

Then, on April 2021, thanks to an anonymous tip from a PER informant, the former Doctor Jacqueline Reitman was discovered with her unicorn assistant Catseye and several others in a makeshift settlement in the abandoned town of Agua Caliente, Arizona. The plan was to stay there to recuperate before leaving on a plane to a base in the Aleutian Islands.

A joint force consisting of the US military, the FBI and several vouched HLF members came down on the settlement like the wrath of God. Of note is that it was the last operation where the US military and the FBI worked alongside the HLF groups, as they simply destroyed the town. By the end of it, the settlement had been so thoroughly bombarded with artillery and small-arms fire that it was uncertain there had ever been a settlement of any kind there, with every newfoal killed and most human PER agents captured, suffering from severe wounds.

Jacqueline Reitman herself attempted to escape the assault with Catseye and several of her closest followers. SWAT officers and a pair of US Marines found the group quickly however, and the former Doctor Reitman was immediately arrested and taken to a high security prison in northern Arizona. Catseye and Reitman’s other associates, meanwhile, died from their severe injuries from the earlier assault.

Video tape from the interrogation

The room is well lit, and in the center is a large table. Jacqueline Reitman is in an orange jumpsuit, her wrists in handcuffs. She looks thinner, less nourished than she was when she first pushed for the potion, and has bags under her eyes. Her hair is stringy and matted down with oil, sweat, and dirt. There is a large bandage on her face, and her hands appear to be bruised. She is being interrogated by FBI Agent Mamjudar Whitman.

Whitman: “You were quite the hard woman to find, Ms. Reitman. Do you know that? All the money, bullets, and men we used on the hunt for you…”

Reitman says nothing, her eyes cast downwards, just looking at the table.

Whitman: “Come on. No need to be so defensive - hell, you’re lucky we didn’t just decide we had terrible aim when trying to detain you, or hand you over to the HLF. You can just tell they were sharpening their knives for you, men and women who just wanted to work over you for hours...”

Reitman still says nothing.

Whitman: “Every moment that you just fucking sit there will just make the pain worse. And… I could say that you happened to resist. I mean, sure, you’re tied to a chair and everything, but who’s gonna believe anyone in this room? Me, or the woman who probably has a body count to put Hitler, Pol Pot and Stalin’s combined killings to shame at this point, after ripping out their free will and turning them into borderline-mindless automatons? Wait, wait… don’t answer that, I think that’s the sound of me answering my own question.”

Reitman: “...Why? Why are you doing this? Why can't you embrace ponification?”

Whitman: “I’ll tell you why. Because almost a year ago, I lost my family to your little disciples when they attacked Washington. I don’t know whether or not they died as themselves, and I know I’m not the only one. Because thanks to your goddamn insanity, there’s millions of orphans, widows, and people who don’t have any families left. Because twenty minutes before the bombs came down, I got a phone call from my daughter, and she had to hang up because PER agents were coming. Angel racked the slide on the pistol, and that’s all I know. Whether she became a newfoal or not, she’s probably dead either way. Now I know what you’re probably thinking. That’s a terrible idea, putting a guy like this in the interrogation. But here’s the thing - none of them give a shit. Everyone just wants to see you suffer, and they would fucking cheer if I made you and all your Hitler Youth cronies die staring at their own lungs as I rip them from their chests.”

Reitman: “You’re wrong, you know.”

Whitman: “Well, I guess there’s probably someone up there thinking ‘Dear God, what have we unleashed?! We’ve created a monster! A terrible, handsome monster, he’s gonna strangle her with his watch chain!’ but then, I get the feeling that they’ll just stop caring as soon as I do this.”

*Whitman randomly punches Doctor Reitman. There is an audible crack.*

Whitman: “See that, guys? Remember who I just punched!”

Colonel Renee walked in and pulled Whitman off Reitman.

Colonel Renee: "Out."

Whitman: “But-”

Colonel Renee: "I said get out now before I throw you onto the first plane out on a suicide mission. And no, I don't give a flying shit you are a civilian, or that you’re FBI, or that you apparently have no goddamn notion of decency. You want to be a badass, you get to be a badass against an opponent that fights back. Get out! Now!"

Whitman: “Worth it.”

Colonel Renee: “Whitman, you fucking-”

*Colonel Renee grabbed Whitman, looping his arm around the neck and began to choke him out while dragging him to the door. Whitman struggles against the hold, only to pass out. Colonel Renee drags him to the door and throws him into the hall. He proceeds to sit back down and crosses his fingers as he looks at Reitman.*

Colonel Renee: "Well, well, well, color me surprised when I get a call telling me that they found you. Now, I could start off this meeting by punching the shit out of you, but that would just feel… kind of empty, to be honest. If I do that, humanity loses and we’re the HLF in all but name."

Reitman: "Are you expecting a thank you? A tearful apology? Do not wait for it. I will not do it now or ever. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do."

*Colonel Renee leaned in close*

Colonel Renee: "And who gave you that right? The Tyrant-"

Reitman: "Queen Celestia. Her name is-"

Colonel Renee: "I couldn't give a damn if her name is the Sugarplum Fairy Princess of Ice Cream Mountain. She had no right to pass judgment.

*Reitman struggled against her restraints, clearly wanting to jump on the Colonel and claw his eyes out.*

Reitman: (shouting) “She’s a goddess, a superior being! Superior beings - truly superior beings - can do things that if a lesser being, like a human, were to do, it would indeed be evil!"

Colonel Renee: "Hah! So a self-proclaimed goddess has a free pass to do what she wants because she is 'superior'. What a bullshit answer."

Reitman: "She is currently winning this so-called war. All you are doing is prolonging-"

Colonel Renee: "The inevitable? I seem to be thinking differently. I have a few reports that say otherwise. After all, the native ponies siding with the Tyrant is dwindling and the few she has in positions of power are being killed off. And thanks to Dr. Kasparek’s defection, we’re already in the process of making our own magic."

*Colonel Renee pulled away.*

Colonel Renee: "Won’t be long before we start wielding magic of our own. Some ponies in R&D are even talking about making guns that can kill the Tyrant. It’s just a question of materials. Lyra has been a very busy mare after all."

Reitman: (scowls) "The Betrayer will get hers in due time. This world is ending, Colonel. It will be best if you join the herd."

*Colonel Renee raises an eyebrow before giving a bark of laughter.*

Colonel Renee: "Join the herd? Tell me, Reitman. If you wanted all of humanity to join the herd, why haven't you gone pony yet?"

*Reitman blinks in surprise, opening her mouth before closing it. Confusion spreads across her face. It is as if she has never considered the notion.*

Colonel Renee: "Looks like the Tyrant did more than scramble your brain. Tell me - if I dropped a bottle of potion in your hand right now and gave you a chance to drink it, would you?"

*Reitman stares, her mouth opening and closing before answering.*

Reitman: "I would potion you."

Colonel Renee: "And if I wasn't here?"

Reitman: "I would potion whoever’s in your place."

Colonel Renee: "And if it was a pony?"

Reitman: “I’d… I’d… I’d…”

*She looks completely unable to comprehend that.*

Colonel Renee: “Now remember, it’s a PHL pony.”

*He seemed to have touched a nerve. She starts struggling against her restraints again, shouting and snarling at the colonel.*

Reitman: “You corrupted them! You robbed them of their souls, what makes them pure! Your soulless technology, lowbrow excuses for entertainment, your violent movies, video games that rob away intelligence and compassion! Your science does nothing but hurt nature! Your culture is sick, diseased, everything needs to be-”

Colonel Renee: “Well then, what does that say about you? You are human too. You went on TV for your interviews; you’ve probably driven cars; used computers, and many other things. You and your sycophants holed yourselves up in the ruins of an abandoned human town. On top of that, you’re a doctor… of human medical science, no less.”

Reitman: “I didn’t choose to be be born human! I had to make my way in the world, and I hated every minute of being human! I-”

Colonel Renee: “Then take the potion, you hypocrite. Just become a peaceful pony. Which reminds me, how are ponies peaceful if they started this war? Or if they throw themselves at machinegun nests?”

Reitman: “They didn’t start it! They were offering everyone the perfect gift! Your refusal of Celestia’s grace is what started this war!”

Colonel Renee: “Alright then, how about this - if ponies are peaceful and perfect, why did they respond with force? A perfect being should be kind and merciful, after all. And they would understand that a no means no. Let’s see… allegedly, they’re supposed to be kind and generous, and this war is neither. It’s done nothing but destroy. Unless you consider tearing apart families, incalculable amounts of dollars worth in homes, businesses, landmarks and buildings getting vaporized, and the subsequent displacement of people, and years of history, art and accomplishments getting swept under the rug to be generosity.”

*Now Doctor Reitman is at a total loss for words. The look on her face is of utter shock, as if her whole worldview has been destroyed.*

Colonel Renee: "Hmph. Thought so. Just another goddamn puppet. I'm done here. Oh yeah, before I go... When this war is over, I will personally have you buried in the darkest hole I can find. A quick death would frankly be too easy and too good for you."

*As the colonel leaves, Reitman is twitching and spasming against her restraints while screaming wildly at him.*

Reitman: “Come back here and face me, you coward! Mark my words, you will bow to Celestia sooner or later! You are but an ant in comparison to her!!”

*Colonel Renee ignored her as she rambles on, her screaming becoming more incoherent and words jumbled. Before long she appears to be having a seizure, and she lets out odd noises. Someone figures out that she is attempting to swallow her own tongue. A nearby doctor sticks a shot into her arm, sedating her.*

Growing Radicalization

Upon Dr. Reitman’s incarceration, the PER became splintered, but increasingly more radical to make up for its decreased numbers. There were those that attempted to infiltrate prisons all across the state of Arizona to rescue her, and convert the guards and other inmates while they were at it. They all failed miserably from the start, as Reitman had already been transferred to another secret location.

In America, the PER were subjected to vicious purges and attacks by the HLF, creating a small-scale civil war throughout the country, waged in small towns and major cities alike. It became commonplace for brigades of armed humans and even ponies to guard anywhere that humans would be helpless, such as hospitals, or maternity wards. Refugee camps, such as the walled “Dead End” settlements on the east and west coasts were frequent targets of theirs. However, under the guidance of Marcus Renee and the indiscriminate fury of the HLF, the PER soon became almost a nonentity in America.

Other countries were not so lucky.

In South America, PER attacks were common, turning entire favelas into massive quarantine zones which the government would bomb from the air. It soon became common practice to wall off areas with particularly high population density, as in other countries such as China and America. This was not helped by the lost newfoals that hid in the foetid depths of cities such as Rio de Janeiro, who would frequently surface to deliver potion. It became common practice for residents to go about their daily business wearing body armor and carrying weaponry, sometimes even wearing wetsuits and gas masks to protect themselves. It also became common to hire military personnel as guards for areas of importance in South America, such as schools, hospitals, and laboratories dedicated to mingling magic and technology for use against Equestria.

On the Asian Front, as the amount of areas that became the European Front had all been swallowed by the Barrier, PER upshoots had taken up refuge in abandoned towns all over Russia and Central Asia. They were known to target nursing homes, birth wards and rural areas where victims were easy targets and military presence was minimal. Their presence in China was particularly troublesome and many blame the downward spiral and the current state of Central China on the PER’s activities.

On the Pacific Front, the domain of the famous "Pacific Queen" Captain Rebecca Kleiner, they took up a role not dissimilar to pirates of old. Using submarines stolen from Russia, or Equestrian airships hidden by clouds, they targeted ships sailing the Pacific, attempting to take over entire islands as strongholds. There were potion bombings all over islands, instances of PER pegasi attempting to whip up storms, threatening to unleash them on islands that didn’t embrace ponification… then releasing them anyway after ponification, claiming that it was for the purpose of “cleansing the taint of humanity.” The newfoals wouldn’t argue, even if it reduced them to living in shantytowns of rubble, before Equestria could use portal stations to give them more adequate housing and facilities. One such case would be the Hurricane of Tokelau, a horrible disastrous event that led to the PER gaining one of their largest strongholds in the Pacific.

There are many cases of ships that were simply lost to mass ponification in the Pacific, and it soon became common practice to outfit crews of oceangoing ships with short-barreled or bullpup shotguns. Thanks to the growing population density of islands in the Pacific due to the flow of refugees and those who were determined to live in the last areas to be consumed by the Barrier, and people in ghetto-like coastal shantytowns built from shipping containers, dubiously legal concrete buildings, and whatever was on hand at the time known simply as “Dead Ends,” it was far too easy for human PER infiltrators to blend in.

“You know why I’m the only one of my family that emigrated to America?” said one Russian woman, barely more than a teenager. “The rest of them decided to stay and fight, or get atomized. They’d seen the conditions of the Dead Ends, and they would’ve left there if not for the PER. You could either stay and get ponified, you could run and get ponified, or you could find your way to the Pacific or to the Americas… and then get ponified.”

This prompted several civilian training programs to be established in the Asian-Pacific Front. Spearheaded by a group of men, women, and ponies collectively known as the Dragons of the East, in cooperation with military-trained groups all over the Pacific, these civilian training programs far exceeded the expectations of anyone. Some members of the Dragons even started off as civilians with scant military and battlefield experience, and went on to become symbols of the Asian Resistance. Members of Captain Rebecca Kleiner’s island-hopping campaign to exterminate the PER have expressed extreme gratitude to the helpfulness of pony and human Pacific islanders alike, with one anonymous pegasus pony in the Navy having nothing but glowing praise.

“We’d be dead without those brigades. We were stuck in our trench in Mindanao, when suddenly a brigade helicopter swooped in and just disassembled the PER with its door gun. It was like the partisans came out of the woodwork, carrying guns that must have been almost a hundred years old at this point - I swear I saw a Browning Automatic Rifle - and modern weapons. They just came out of every door, guns blazing, and for the first time, we drove the fuckers back. Those partisans probably saved the Philippines.”

That serviceman’s interview is nowhere near the only story of its kind. All over the Pacific Rim, there are countless stories of partisans fighting the good fight, not as HLF, but just as equal-opportunity resistances against the Empire. One story recounts a ship, full of pony and human partisans armed to the teeth, landing in the Kiribati islands and taking it upon themselves to liberate them from PER forces.

The number of lives that they saved is impossible to judge. One island nation of the Pacific, a floating settlement dedicated to anti-Barrier research known as the Ark, has officially declared the Dragons to be their patron saints. It is possible, but not likely, that there may soon be cargo cults dedicated to them.

The number of PER holdouts in the Pacific is estimated to be somewhere in the mid to high hundreds. Given the high numbers of islands in the Pacific, it’s hard to make an exact guess, but they remain a threat to this day, making water travel an untenable task. Regardless, thanks to new equipment added on to ships traversing the Pacific, and heavier armaments, it has become far safer.

Name: “Mikhailovitch”
Nationality: Unknown, presumed Russian.
Crimes: Kidnapping, espionage, sabotage of military equipment and operations, forced conversion, poisoning and tampering of food and drink meant for refugees, impersonating a medical doctor, suspect in the implementation of Ponification Pinatas.
Current Status: Incarcerated in Guantanamo Bay

Lower decks of unknown ship in U.S Navy/

’Mikhailovitch’: “You can’t torture me, you bastards-”

Unknown American Male Soldier: “Fuck you. You’re the PER agent. We have footage of you in maternity wards dousing babies with ponification serum. Babies, for fuck’s sake! Now… answer the questions or we will really make you regret the day your mother gave birth to your worthless existence.”

Unknown American Female Soldier: “Possibly both.”

Unknown American Male Soldier: “See, that’s the thing. We can torture you, and no one really would raise a stink about it. Not like how it was a decade ago.”

Cheerilee (outside the door): “Enough."

Unknown American Female Soldier: "Ma'am!"

Cheerilee: “Please. Leave before you do something to him that you’ll regret.”

Unknown American Male Soldier: “Fair enough.”

The two of them walk out of the room

”Mikhailovitch’ "You! You are a pony! Help me show them the-"

Cheerilee: "The light?" (She stepped out from the darkness.)

”Mikhailovitch”: "...You?! The Teacher! Betrayer of the Solar Goddess’s wisdom!"

Cheerilee:"Tell me... what are you planning to do?"

”Mikhailovitch”: "I refuse! Send your torturers! The goddess’ light will protect me!"

Cheerilee sighs as she looked at the human as she sat before him and remain silent.

Silence prevails for over two hours.

”Mikhailovitch”: "Say something damn it!"

Cheerilee: "The entire island of Vaitupu was ponified and 'cleansed' of human taint. Half of the island's population was killed off in the resulting purge and scattered into the ocean, some for almost a hundred miles due to the heavy storm. Several hundred bodies of dead new foals were found drifting in the ocean. All of them being eaten by the various animals. The island was found several days later and was bombarded for several hours before troops landed and killed all the newfoals there."

”Mikhailovitch”: "W-what?"

Cheerilee: "Your group had essentially murdered an entire island."

”Mikhailovitch”"No! The humans-"

Cheerilee: "Are destroying a plague. I believe that right now, they’re clearing out the woods. However it was the PER that initiated the islanders’ deaths. By changing all of them against their will, you painted a target on their backs and left them to fend for themselves. Because of you, about a thousand native islanders, and almost two thousand refugees from Russia and Asia are dead. What bodies we found intact after the bombardment reveal them to be near death. Starving and plagued by various sicknesses. We did them a favor in giving them death instead of a forced cheer of slow death, letting them die with minds left in their bodies. Congratulations. You 'saved' them alright."

’Mikhailovitch’: “I... I..." He looked away in shame. "I’ll talk. It’s… Last time I checked, it was near Tokelau; Morely and I were planning to ponify everyone on Wallis island and Futuna island and take over their farmlands. It’s hard to feed so many ponies in Equestria, and they thought nobody would miss them! Small, unimportant-”

Cheerilee: "Every life that remains free of the warped Tyrant is important. Thank you for helping."

She stepped out of the way as Mikhailovitch is brought up and dragged away.

Mikhailovitch: "I'm sorry...."

Cheerilee: "It’s not me you have to apologize to..." (Cheerilee walks out) "It’s the lives you ruined that have to accept it."

Mikhailovitch is led away and the male soldier returned.

Unknown American Male Soldier: “After awhile, you just have to wonder. Did we always have these people, or did the Tyrant get to them?”

Cheerilee: “I am honestly not sure what scares me more.”

Sleep With One Eye Open

Cheerilee had voiced a common concern among anti-Barrier human and pony forces alike. The Tyrant’s brainwashing, or always a vocal minority who had so hated their species and culture?

To this day, nobody knows.

Their operatives, using enchanted items given to them by Royal Guards, were like ghosts in the night. Entire towns had the potential to disappear overnight, only to be replaced by dens of newfoals who would burn their former homes, destroying everything in a mad orgy of destruction, and steal all the food in markets and houses.

Survivors of these towns, often transients, those working night shifts, or insomniacs, would report swarms of newfoals destroying towns. Unicorn newfoals, guided by either natural-born Equestrians or more experienced newfoals, would let loose noisy, destructive bursts of pure concussive force or fire, reducing human buildings to rubble.

Name: Dayoung Tengku
Nationality: American (born in Malaysia)
Age: 22
Status: ex-HLF, joined with PHL due to “crisis of faith”

“Look. Don’t hold being ex-HLF against me. There’s plenty of former HLF members in your ranks, right?”

“Well, yes. That’s not important, though. We just want to know what you saw.”

“Besides hell, fire, brimstone, the most traumatizing event of my young life? Can’t think of much.”

“Ms. Tengku? Just start at the beginning.”

“Right. I was desperate for a job. I do mean desperate,” Tengku says. “Got one in the local Hannaford’s, baking cakes at 3 AM. Not exactly a job that’s good for your circadian rhythms. But it paid well because not many people were willing. So, one day, I end up waking up at like… 1:30. You know how it gets, waking up early - there’s like some magic number of times too early to be comfy, too late to really get any more sleep without making yourself more tired. Around there. I was cursing that I’d woken up like that, but that horrible night saved my life. I’d heard about the PER of course, but… you always expect these things to happen to someone else. You know?”

“Focus. What happened?”

“I heard something outside, so I got up to the window. And I saw Mr. Norton. Town’s green activist, the doom-and-gloom kind. Damn near a luddite.” She threw up her hands. “Whoa. Don’t get paranoid of people concerned for the environment. They have good intentions. But, if they start wearing shirts like ‘humanity is a sickness’ and revere nature so much they don’t care about humanity, then be paranoid away.”

“I will… keep that in mind. What did Mr. Norton do?”

“He was like, on a soapbox and he looked happy. But it was like a sick, psychotic look there. He looked revitalized as the town burned, as someone fired a shotgun and just stopped after screaming. He was happy to watch humanity burn away, the goddamn pigfucker. Maybe the queen bitch or Reitman got to him, maybe they didn’t need to. I don’t know. He was just preaching, real fire-and-brimstone evangelical kind of preaching, about how Equestria was a paradise and we were soulless, damned… I don’t know, I kind of tuned it out when I saw what he was holding.”

“What was-”

“His own children. Had them on fucking leashes. Their clothes were ripped, they were so bruised, and everything. He looked like he’d practically dragged them out. And he… he just forced the potion down their throats. Just yelling ‘take your medicine! It’s good for you!’ Then, he took a big swig of it himself. I saw them turn into ponies there, as their fingers fused into hooves and fur just… just grew all over them. They looked… they just looked wrong.”

“In general, newfoals do.”

“It was like they were only happy because that was the only thing left in them,” Dayoung says, still trembling. “I didn’t save them. I just… I grabbed my things, jumped into my car and high tailed it outta there. There were pegasi flying at the windshield, and I had to… without the HLF that shot them down, I’d be dead.”

“Or ponified.”

“Like there’s much of a difference.”

Darkness-Induced Apathy

With both the PER and HLF claiming to be the saviors of humanity, both far too similar in their own equally destructive, elitist, and racist ways, it’s little wonder that humanity and escaped ponies felt rather jaded.

With the PER ruining the image of ponies wishing to help humans and the HLF calling for blood, only a scant few humans of respective power and prestige held back the tide and kept areas of the world that weren’t consumed by Equestria from descending into infighting and anarchy. Ones that were considered high-priority targets by the PER and HLF alike.

The British Royal Family.

President Jack Davis and various UN leaders.

Colonel Marcus Renee.

Major Stephan Bauer.

All members of the 'infamous' Dragons of the East.

And the "Pacific Queen" Captain Rebecca Kleiner and "StormBringer" Thunderwing of the so-called “Stampede Fleet.”

In a later interview, Captain Rebecca Kleiner admitted that in the early days of the war, along with her recently revealed lover Thunderwing, felt a “unique sense of hopelessness.”

“What does that mean, ‘a unique sense of hopelessness?’

Kleiner: “For me, it felt like it boiled down to either join the other side and become a lobotomized zombie, or become a member of some ‘white power’ skinhead gang knockoff, except everyone got in on it. That’s how people saw it. And they didn’t think we were any better than either of them - half the states just thought we’re an extension of the HLF, and most of them treated that like a good thing. Like they fucking absorbed us.”

Thunderwing: “Oh, you think that’s bad? What about us? We were treated like shit. We want the PER like the Captain wants some emaciated girl with a mustache and a weasel nose and a figure worse than a fat man in a woman’s one-piece coming onto her, and I’m lucky if the HLF doesn’t shoot us on sight. I was lucky if the average civilian didn’t panic as soon as they saw me. There were senators talking about goddamned internment camps for crying out loud!”

Kleiner: “Goleman, that prick.”

Thunderwing: “There was just… just no middle ground. You say you’re a pony and you want to help humanity, you either got bullets to the face from the HLF or a bandolier of potion from the PER. You say you’re human and you want to get along with ponies…

Kleiner: “No, that’s pretty much what happened to us. Except with more lynching. I mean, I knew ponies couldn’t be all bad, I mean, look at Thunderwing! He’s wonderful! But not enough people saw it that way.”

Thunderwing: “You don’t want to know. Graffiti on my door, honest to God murder attempts, a mutiny…”

“A mutiny?!”

Kleiner: “Don’t worry. The mutineers were appropriately punished. Most of them have redeemed themselves by now. But that’s what it was like back then.”

Thunderwing: “Again, no middle ground. You were either with humanity or with ponies, and you had to be against one of them. It was just horrible.”

Kleiner: “And then came the PHL…”

Light at the End

The early years of the war were a chaotic, paranoid, hopeless time. A time when anyone, pony or human alike, could be detained on the merest of suspicions. When everyone slept with one eye open, where entire cities could become deserted within days in mass exoduses to other countries, and nobody was entirely sure who, if anyone, to turn to for help.

And in the chaos, another group arose that claimed to be the saviors of humanity. Worst of all, they looked too good to be true in the chaos of the early years, with HLF and unaligned humanity claiming that they’d seen enough of ponies trying to help. There was one difference however between them and the others.

They never attempted to violently force their agenda onto anyone else. They opened their doors for everyone to whoever needed it. And unlike the PER who changed and mutated humans against their will into false cheer and friendship, or the HLF who placed a gun in their hands and sent them to die, they sheltered, fed, clothed the humans in their care before giving them to the proper authorities. Fighting off hostile powers actually seemed to be a secondary object to them, their urge to help the helpless was their most prominent trait.

These acts of kindness would be remembered by the millions displaced from their homes and countries, urged by those very people to trust their intentions to help.

A group which was started off by ponies.

Open for all to join, and relentlessly optimistic.

A force of nature that would rise into a power that would lash out at the Tyrant, becoming one of the only groups on earth that could genuinely threaten her.

The PHL.