“Where you find friends, you find enemies. It is just a simple fact of life. But in the end, it is not about quantity, but quality. You can have a million friends, but you only need one true friend to help you fight your one million enemies, because that one friend will be worth more than the million fake friends and genuine enemies combined.”

-Burnt Oak

Nebulous is still in his makeshift office, watching the fiery smoke rise from the distant portions of the prison with a mixture of amusement and fear. His coffee is nearly empty, and Meriaclock is pacing in circles, feathers ruffled and eyes darting to the door and to random spots around the room.

“Nervous?” says Nebulous.

“Oh, no. I just love pacing in circles because it is so much fun being stuck in the middle of a warzone with our subjects completely gone,” says Meriaclock.

“You really need to relax. This place is well guarded, so none of those hooligans will be getting in.”

“That's what they thought about this prison until all this happened.”

Nebulous smirks mischievously and finishes up his coffee. “The timing was very convenient, but regardless, this did not go as I had planned, so now I'll have to make adjustments and yadda yadda yadda, whole nine yards and all that jazz.”

Meriaclock glances at Nebulous. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“What I was going to tell you is irrelevant, now, due to the circumstances. I just hope my helpers will come in use again since this mess threw everything out of loop.”

“Helpers?”

Nebulous nods, but before anything else can be said on the matter, the door is opened a bit more forceful than necessary, getting Meriaclock to jump back and Nebulous to raise a brow. The door being opened as it was was rude enough, but now that he sees Cuffs standing there, being flanked by two more guards with nine more waiting outside really takes the cake of rude visits.

“Can I help you, Officer Cuffs?” says Nebulous as calmly as he can.

Cuffs and one of his escorts levitates chains and cuffs designed for hooves, wings and horns from their saddles, and Cuffs narrows his eyes on Nebulous while his escorts train their weapons on them.

“You are under arrest, by the orders of Warden Frost, herself,” says the guard.

“Really?” Nebulous sips his empty cup, more disappointed by the outcome of events than before. “Was our date really that bad?”

“It probably was,” says Meriaclock.

Nebulous frowns. “That was rhetorical.”

“Jenkins, apprehend the pegasus,” orders Cuffs.

The guard levitating the wing cuffs moves forward, and Meriaclock growls and ruffles and his feathers as he steps back, and Nebulous gets up from his desk and extends his hoof.

“I would not do that if I were you. He's got some issues about those,” warns Nebulous. As soon as he finishes his sentence, a cuff snaps around his hoof, and his eyes widen and look at the metal object around his limb, then he glances at Cuffs. “Uh, I don't really like this, either. Can't we talk about it?”

“You can in your prison cell,” says Cuffs while he traps Nebulous' other hoof in the device.

Nebulous' heart races, and his eyes flick between Cuffs and Meriaclock, who is now backed up into a corner and has expanded his wings to their fullest.

“If you know what's good for you, you will get away from me!” says Meriaclock.

“Listen to him,” say Nebulous.

“Shut up!” snaps Cuffs.

Jenkins uses his magic to throw Meriaclock to the ground, and as the pegasus squirms, he clambers on top of him and clips the cuffs around his wings, and then moves to trap his limbs. But Meriaclock wiggles his body so that he is facing the guard, despite his attempts, and with a bloodthirsty roar he slams his hoof against the officer's chest. A split second later a flash of light erupts from his hoof and a ball of flame explodes out of the guard's back and burns a hole in the ceiling.

The guards swear and leap back, and Meriaclock pushes the smoldering corpse off of him, revealing a glowing symbol on the bowl of his hoof in the shape of a triangle inside a circle, with the triangle occupied by an equal sign with two smaller blocks in its middle.

Meriaclock rolls on his hoofs, growling and frothing rabidly at the mouth as his trapped wings twitch with his muscles and eyes. The other guards stare at him, jaws agape with a couple in the back taking a step back, and Nebulous' heart sinks at the very unfortunate turn of events. Events he knows will really bite him in the butt starting in seconds time.

He can hear the soldiers shaking in their armor, and some mutter incomprehensibly at the idea of a pegasus shooting a fireball from their hoof, but Nebulous knows what's going to happen next. He can see it in their eyes and feel it in the air around him. If he did not know any better, he would say he could feel the very presence of Charon himself looming in the room, eager to see what will come next.

“Now, boys, lets remain calm,” says Nebulous. “Let's not do anything rash. We can still talk about this.”

“Kill them!” barks Cuffs.

Guns are raised and horns explode in displays of light, and Cuffs is suddenly nailed to the ceiling with a sharp blade coming from the shadow of Nebulous' desk. Before the other guards can react, black blades shoot out from the shadows cast by the light and ruthlessly stabs all of them multiple times in unison. They barely get a chance to scream before they collapse as bloody heaps on the floor. With the guards lying dead at their hooves and blood spreading all over the floor, Nebulous drops to his haunches, gasping for air and shaking, and with his concentration lost, his horn dims, all the shadow blades dissolve and Cuffs falls from the ceiling, limp with his eyes open in freight. Nebulous grimaces and uses his hoof to turn the head away.

Meriaclock laughs. “That was amazing. I didn't know you could do that!” He wobbles over to the guard he burnt and fishes for the keys to his cuffs, which he makes quick work of once he gets them. After he frees himself, he chuckles and wipes himself off and flexes his wings. “It looks like you are less of a coward than I thought you were.”

Meriaclock instantly clamps his mouth after that, and Nebulous stiffens. Despite how worn out Nebulous is, his eye still twitches and a nasty snarl warps his features, and before he can so much as think of a simple word, Meriaclock is slammed against the wall by a black, vine-like tendril.

“After all this time you still know nothing about me?” says Nebulous without looking at Meriaclock, his voice shaking and random thorns sprouting and disintegrating from the summoned tendril. “After all these years, I am still a coward in your eyes?”

When all he gets is gagging for an answer, Nebulous turns to Meriaclock and adjusts his glasses, watching with burning eyes and a sore throat as his companion struggles to breath and free himself with wild kicks and fruitless prying. One of the random spikes nicks the pegasus in the cheek, slicing his skin easily, and Nebulous stands up on wobbly legs and approaches his trapped helper.

“Real cowards do not do what I do,” says Nebulous. “Real cowards to not end lives in the blink of an eye to protect their friends. Real cowards do not have the stomach to kill their own families for a better purpose or make deals with Tirek to see the world made brighter.”

The shadows around Nebulous seep out of the ground and solidify to razor sharp blades that absorb all the light around them, dimming the room, and the blades curve to Meriaclock's face. He does not care about the fear in Meriaclock's eyes, though. He does not care that he can see the blades reflecting off of his eyes or that the pegasus has become petrified. All he wants is for his ears to work and for his brain to comprehend what he is telling him.

“I am no coward, Meriaclock Whooves. I am a visionary, and thanks to you and your stupidity we will have to continue our work in the shadows.” The blades and tendrils retract, and Nebulous throws Meriaclock to the ground, next to the guard he killed, and turns to his desk, uncaring of the coughs and gasps for air his companion is making. After that, he uncuffs himself, and then he levitates his notes and supplies into his saddle before putting it on and tossing Meriaclock his saddle. “Set this office ablaze, for as of right now, we are on the run.”

Frozen North Desert

In the middle of the frozen wasteland, the transport Applejack's group used to escape sputters to a halt outside of a shack partially hidden by a curtain of snow. Once it stops, it drones into silence with one last puff of energy and the gauge showing empty on the reserves, and Billy slumps over, wheezing and pale. His shield disappears soon after, and the cold quickly overcomes the vehicle while the howling wind rocks them. This gets a look of concern from Derpy while Limestone remains somewhat collected.

Applejack coughs into her hoof, barely breaking eye contact with the shack. The structure is simple, made of wood and brick and there is no light shining through the thick curtains, but the smoke rising from the chimney is a clear sign that someone is home. Or careless. Though, the first suggestion is proven true when Limestone honks her horn three times and a light peeks through the curtains.

Seconds later, Limestone honks three more times and the door opens up and a group of six armed ponies step out with a seventh unarmed one in the middle. There is also a blonde goat with a silver mane and goatee armed with a huge battle saddle standing next to the unarmed pony. All of them are wearing heavy, white clothing and have their heads wrapped in scarves and winter hats. The stallion in the center, however, is sticking to just a snow hat, so Applejack sees his brown fur and eyes.

“Wait here,” orders Billy.

Limestone extends her hoof. “Billy, wait-”

“Wait here.”

Billy staggers out of the wagon and approaches the pony in the center, and Applejack rubs her hooves against her body, shivering and teeth chattering. Applejack can't hear what they are saying, but it seems that the conversation is going well, seeing as how both are nodding and no one is raising any weapons. The goat has not taken his eyes off of the vehicle the whole time and barely moves his lips when he speaks. A minute later, Billy motions everyone out, and Applejack climbs out of the wagon and gently pulls Mosley out.

Some of the ponies in white trot to Applejack and they take Mosley away from her and carefully carry him inside, leaving just her, Derpy and Limestone outside with the others.

“Where're y'all takin' him?” says Applejack warily.

“They're going to fix him,” says Limestone. Adding wearily when Applejack gives her a suspicious look: “Trust me. We're on your side.”

“There she is!” says the brown stallion shakily.

Applejack looks at him as he approaches her with a broad, anxious smile.

“I am so glad that we got you out,” continues the stallion, forcing a chuckle that gets Applejack's eyebrow to raise in an unimpressed way. “I would like to apologize for not getting you out sooner, but with your high profile and the prison itself, it was very difficult to formulate a strategy while having our agents inside keep their covers. But you and Mosley's big breakout forced us to improvise, and now we are here! Safe and sound.”

Applejack casts dirty looks at Billy and Limestone. “Undercovers, huh? You two played your parts really good.” Before the two can answer, she looks back at the brown pony and points at him and the goat. “And who are you two s'possed to be, anyway?”

The brown pony points at the goat. “This is Herr Mond.” He points at himself. “And I am Burnt Oak. And we are going to help you save Equestria.”

Fort Sunrise, Badlands

In the late hours of the night, the curtains of General Ji's office ripple from the cool breeze and the noises of whipping flags and the clanging of metal against metal are carried by the wind. In the new day, it is against regulations to have windows that can open for reasons of safety. However, the General's office has yet to get the replacement slab of glass, so he is enjoying the breeze while he can.

The old unicorn is currently sitting at his desk, letting the air cool his back and his little lamp to light up the map of the Badlands region he has rolled out. He can see everything, from the train tacks, to the roads, to the towns and the major cities of Dodge City, San Palamino and Appleloosa and the buffalo reservation. Marked on the map is where the attack on the train took place, which is close to Appleloosa, and the majority of the killed insurrectionists are also from the said town.

General Ji blows through his nose and looks at the other markers labeling where the other dead rebels lived. They are scattered, but while most are from Appleloosa, all of the dead are from every corner of the Badlands. From the tiny town of Dust Bowl near the Neighico border, to the grand city of San Palomino and all in between. From what he is looking at, he knows the attack against the prison train is the baby stages of a full scale, regional uprising that must be stopped before it gains momentum, and he knows the perpetrator, too.

General Ji's focus drifts to a report of a tree farmer who had his family farm nationalized. The government had assured him that he would not lose complete control and would still have major influence in its operations, but that did nothing to sway the dissenter. Burnt Oak has been very vocal about his disloyalty to the state in writing and speeches, and has been labeled as a high profile threat by the EIB. Though, why they have not brought him in is beyond the General. The only thing he can think of as to why such a clear threat trots freely is because red tape and politics are getting in the way of making the necessary moves again. That goes without saying that now that martial law is in place, he can take care of the problems for the stuck ups and not get into too much trouble for it.

There is a sudden sharp knock on General Ji's door, and without breaking his eyes from Burnt Oak's profile, he speaks. “Enter.”

The door opens and Lieutenant Fast Track enters, carrying a folder in his mouth. He stands in front of the General and snaps his hoof up for a salute, which is returned, and he gently places the folder down in front of his superior and slides it forward.

“Sir, we just got this report in. There is trouble in the Frozen North. There was a prison riot at Snowflake with a lot of casualties, and Professor Nebulous Dust and his assistant disappeared while a group of prisoners escaped using a blizzard as cover,” says Fast Track.

General Ji blows through his nose, coolly grabs the folder and opens it to have a look at its contents.

“Some of the escapees are Thaumaturgists, and they were helped by turncoat guards,” says Fast Track.

General Ji stiffens slightly at the mention of “Thaumaturgists” and he looks up at Fast Track, keeping his worried state hidden beneath his uniform and hardened expression.

“How many Thaumaturgists?” asks the General.

“Two, sir,” replies Fast Track.

General Ji resumes flipping through the pages, and he finds himself once again frozen from surprise, for two familiar names and faces have popped out. Apple and Orange.

He barely remembers Mosely's face, but he remembers how broken he was when they captured him. He also distinctly remembers getting ready to spear the monstrosity through the heart before his resident troublemakers stopped him. How he despised Gale Hurricane and Grape Muffin, but as much as he hates their guts, they had been right in stopping him. Mosley Orange had surrendered after a long, brutal fight, so they could not kill him or else it would be labeled as an execution. Just thinking about how many threats were spared because of the “mercy rule” makes Ji's blood boil every time, for a threat spared is just giving it time to recuperate and strike back, as proven not too long ago.

As for the second, he can never forget her face. She may be older, but her freckled features remain the same. He remembers Applejack spying on them from the top of the stairs, listening to the news of her parents' fate in the basement of the old Miner's Country house when he was telling her grandmother. From curiosity to devastation, he is still baffled at how she did not bolt down the stairs and call him a liar for saying her parents had died. Even when he caught her weeping grandmother before she could hit the ground, she did not cry. She wanted to, and she was cracking, but she left before he could see if she would cry. He never would have thought of her to be a Thaumaturgist, but now that the truth is out, he silently questions why the Higher Powers and the Elements of Harmony would select something as vile as her to represent Honesty.

“The report shows devastating damage. Millions in property damage, many dead and injured, some critically,” says Fast Track, bringing the General out of his thoughts. “Warden Frost has already called the EIB and alerted the Stalliongrad Guard of what happened, so they will be looking for the convicts as well as the Professor and his assistant.”

The General sighs tiredly. “I don't care about the academic or his assistant. I only care about those Thaumaturgists. Those guards and agents are not qualified to capture Thaumaturgists, much less two of them, and if word gets out the state is hunting an Element then we will have a full scale uprising.”

“The CDA has kept Applejack's arrest quiet for the most part. They can keep her escape quiet, too.”

“There were still suspicions, and as vile as she is, her word holds more value than most, if not all others, due to her Element.”

General Ji sighs, reclines in his seat and lets his mental gears work. What they churn up is something he does not like, but knows that it must be done. With a heavy sigh, the old unicorn gets out of his chair and approaches a thick, metal cabinet with a dial-lock in its center.

“I want all of the information regarding the escaped Thaumaturgists sent to my office in Stalliongrad immediately,” orders General Ji. “If they are connected to them in any way, I want it ready for my viewing upon my arrival. While I am gone you are to supervise this region's counterinsurgency operations and are to send me weekly reports of your progress and to keep it quiet, are we clear?”

Fast Track nods. “Yes, sir.”

After putting in the correct combination, the General pulls open the door to reveal a suit of armor that has a black base with red trim and rose colored gems on its shoulder pads, flank pads and sides. He grabs a weapon that is next to the suit of armor and floats it in front of his face, carefully studying it. It has a gray block with a blade shaped like a solar flare on top that has a golden gem fused in its center.

“If you don't mind me asking, what will you be doing, sir?” asks Fast Track, his eyes being drawn to the gleaming, sleek blade.

The block unfolds to a staff and General Ji pushes a button where the blade and staff meet to sprout two more curved blades, and he aims the weapon to the floor while casting a grim look at Fast Track. “Hunting.”

Author's Notes:

End of the Snowflake Gulag arc.