The citizens were all blissful.

Yes, blissful. He could see it in their faces, looking out the open window into the city beyond. Clouds everywhere- clouds for banks, clouds for supermarkets, clouds for plantations, clouds for transport, clouds for everything. There even had to be marked pathways through the clouds to give a sense of direction. Nothing but soft, puffy tufts and blankets of clouds. This was their world now as it had been for the last two-hundred years. The sun was shining, the air was warm...

The citizens were all blissful.

All the pegasi went about their daily lives, filing into the capitol building, into the courthouses, and into the many agencies meant to keep them all just that- blissful.

He sighed and smiled.

“High General, she’s here.”

He sighed and frowned. “Let her in.”

He pivoted on his hooves and strode back to his oval office with its cloud desk and its cloud stationery and cloud cabinets, seating himself in his cloud swivel chair. His bodyguards, dressed in sharp military gear, earblooms, shades and all the stereotypical nonsense, opened the great cloud doors and in walked a pegasus mare. She was the textbook military type, same as he- properly dressed in uniform, neatly groomed, plenty of decorations, and an even, steady stride. As if rehearsed, he stood and returned the salute as soon as it was given.

“High General Harbinger,” she greeted.

“Brigadier General Storm Surge,” he greeted in turn, dropping the salute. “At ease.” He turned to the guards. “Leave us.”

The pair nodded stoutly and vacated the premises, shutting the great cloud doors behind them. He motioned to the cloud chair across from him, and they seated themselves.

She started, “High General, first I want to-”

A wave of the hoof, and she was silent. “None of that,” he said with a tired sigh. “Your inauguration is tomorrow, and after that, I’ll just be old Harbinger. Continue.”

“Then Harbinger, I wanted to say that it will be an honor to serve in your stead,” Storm Surge continued with an even expression and tone. “I also disavow any and all crude remarks some of my supporters have been lambasting you with.”

“Hm… yes, an honor,” he said with a grimace. “Storm- can I call you ‘Storm?’”

She looked genuinely surprised. “Why of course, s-”

“Storm, do you know why I wanted to meet with you today?” he inquired.

“No, sir,” she replied.

“At ease,” he repeated, leaning toward her. “While proper conduct in the presence of a superior officer is a necessity, I’ll have none of it right now. Now,” He leaned further until he rested his forelegs against the desk, hooves forming a steeple, “the reason why I wanted to meet with you was to have a discussion regarding your inauguration and eventual duties as High General of the High Council. Are you aware of the official duties?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Then it’s time to discuss-” he grunted as he leaned back in his seat, still maintaining the steeple of his hooves, “-the unofficial duties. How well do you remember your history, Storm?”

“I graduated at the top of my class at the Academy,” she answered. Hm, was that a hint of pride in that tone?

“Mm,” he huffed, his smile waning. “Then tell me- who won The Great War?”

Storm Surge blinked. “I beg your pardon, Harbinger?”

“It’s a simple question.” He made a brief, sideways gesture with his hoof. “Who. Won. The Great War?”

“I’m under the impression that nopony, nobody did,” Storm Surge replied. And where was that hint of pride now?

He drew in a deep sigh and idly swiveled back and forth in his cloud chair, reclining back to look up at the cloud ceiling. “Victory,” he said wistfully. “The greatest goal, for with it comes the greatest spoils- power, property, prestige, and!” He held up a hoof, eyes back on the general. “And above all, posterity. After all, it’s like they say- ‘history is written by the victors.’ So, by your logic, nopony, nobody has any sort of history to tell.”

“Where are you going with this?” she inquired.

He drew in another deep sigh and sat up in his cloud chair. “Storm, with your rank and current stature, there’s no doubt you already know about the true nature of what lies beneath, unclouded- pun not intended- by superstition. So what lies beneath our cloud cover?”

She did her best to maintain a straight face, but there was that subtle crease of the brow- similar to that of a schoolfilly caught in a pop quiz. She answered, “Near total anarchy. What little civilization remains is but a shadow of ours, and the rest of it is pure lawlessness.”

He pursed his lips briefly. “Interesting choice of metaphor. Yes, you’re absolutely right. Modern-day Equestria is reminiscent of the Age of Darkness before the rise of the three pony nations. Zebrica is almost entirely glass and ash. Aldorna? We won’t discuss those griffin vermin. So we can both agree that the surface is in ruin- habitable, perhaps, with some primitive societies here and there- but more or less but a shadow of ours. And what of ours, Storm?” He motioned to the scenery outside. All the pegasi went about their daily lives, filing into the capitol building, into the courthouses, into the many agencies.

“Just look.” He went on, and she did. “Reminiscent not of Equestria from the Age of Darkness but of Equestria from the Age of Industry right before The Great War. We have businesses, we have a unified military, we have law and order, and we are content. No slaves or raiders, no bloodthirsty mutants or radiation. And what do you see if you look close enough at the faces of our citizens? They’re all happy... and blissful.

“Storm, I asked how well you remembered your history.” He continued. “What does that imply?”

The mare looked back at him. “I don’t understand, sir.”

He fought the urge to grimace. Patience, patience. “History is written by the victors, Storm. And you were taught history.” He smiled. “Don’t you see, Storm? We won! We won The Great War! The Grand Pegasi Enclave, and the Grand Pegasi Enclave alone won the greatest conflict in equine history! We achieved that greatest goal and won its greatest spoils- power, property, prestige… and posterity! And do you know just why posterity is so important, Storm? That we alone claimed victory in wake of The Great War meant that we alone claimed our future and the ability to write it as we pleased. As it is written, the surface is completely inhospitable to life, and the Grand Pegasi Enclave should remain isolated above the clouds. As it is written, its citizens will be governed under a military state ruled by a military elite. As it is written, we shall never have to venture beneath save for necessary resources. As it is written… we finally have peace in our time. And so it shall remain.

“So now do you understand what your unofficial duties are, soon-to-be High General Storm Surge?” he asked. “We’ve come too far now to let our spoils spoil. We must continue as it is written, and we cannot allow it all to come undone by a slip of the quill. Or the tongue. The High Council doesn’t take these matters lightly. In fact, The High Council- myself included- is highly reluctant to accept replacements such as yourself. Do you understand? We’re all taking a great risk having you replace me.”

“Yes, High General Harbinger,” she replied. She was silent for a good few seconds as if taking it all in. Then, “Permission to speak freely?”

“We have been, haven’t we?” he huffed.

General Storm Surge said, “I find it highly… unusual that you’re speaking to me so casually for a stallion of your rank and stature. Was there any particular reason for such a lengthy disc-”

With a soft whizzing sound, a new hole opened up in General Storm Surge’s forehead, a thin line of red trickling down as she slumped back in her cloud chair.

As it so happened, cloud windows didn’t have panes.

“Because I wanted you to sit still,” he replied lowly. “Because taking such a great risk having you replace me was too great a risk to take. Because it all must continue as written.” He cleared his throat. “Guards.” The cloud double doors opened, and in came the nearly identical bodyguards. “Dispose of her. Raise the alarm. And remember- this was an assassination attempt on me. She was an unfortunate victim.”

“Yes, sir,” they complied, hauling the body out and away from the chair and shouting down the hall.

As the alarm was raised, he rose. Before additional bodyguards would come for him and escort him to a safer location, he looked back outside, now at the pegasi citizens briefly interrupted from their daily lives by the alarm and lockdown, interrupted from filing into the capitol building, into the courthouses, into the many agencies meant to keep them all just that- blissful.

No…

The citizens were still all blissful.

Blissfully unaware of their victory and the price that came with it.