Author's Notes:

Hello everyone, this is TheIdiot here to basically state that I've decided to become a Hypocrite and write/post a story on my account despite me saying that I wouldn't.

Aren't I crazy?

Anyway, this story was originally thought up to be an excuse for a one off character to basically have more after his unfortunate ending just when he realizes the all important truth.

That’s right! We’re doing a story centered on… the newfoal! Focus Ray!

*unintelligible dialogue*

What? What do you mean that he’s dead? I thought that Trixie took him in alive and-

*more unintelligible dialogue*

Blue Spy killed him?! Then what am I supposed to-

*even more unintelligible dialogue*

Inkwell? That one off character? He’s going to be the focus here? Alright…. if you say so, this Author’s Note has gone on long enough as it is.

EDIT: Apparently I had to kill an authors note in order to get this moderated... weird.

First Print - Welcome to the Gulag

" Special Double Sized Print! A Shocking Revelation! Fancy Pants is Trade Secret!

Fancy Pants, Canterlot Elite, was revealed to be a Betrayer! His wife, and Minister of New Foal Affairs Fleur De Lis, is currently missing, her fate unknown! This paper can only guess what her unfortunate fate may be, if the suicide explosion that Fancy committed had killed her as well, the poor mare getting caught in the explosion. It is almost certain that she’s nothing but ashes.

The fiery conflagration made sure none of the house was left, the area around it was scorched and drained of all magic… currently its very difficult to tell if there had ever been a house there at all, this reporter has to offer.

This shocking revelation stunned/shocked many ponies; commoners, elites, members of the Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals, yet none more so than our Benevolent Queen. The PETN has had a turbulent last two weeks, with a reporter named Inkwell revealing himself as a Betrayer, his work leaked to lower-class ponies, inciting a riot. However, for their leader to be killed, and one of their primary sources revealed to be sleeping with the enemy?! It is near inconceivable.

'Of all ponies, it pains me to have learned that Fancy Pants was a Betrayer. Trade Secret was possibly the most notorious of all and Fancy Pants was… he was a fop. He was a dandy. I would have never guessed he had such horrific actions with him,' Our Benevolent Queen said with sorrow, 'Somehow the humans corrupted him and had him kill so many saved souls and noble guards. He even tried to kill me with that explosion of his… as for Fleur I know she is still alive somewhere and as the Minister of Newfoal Affairs, she must return.'

Despite this unfortunate discovery, victory is within sight now that the Beneficence has completed construction. It will only be a matter of time now until the apes’ remaining lands will be purified, and with the Queen leading the battle, nothing will stop us."

Written by Flower Pepper of the Canterlot Times

Our tale begins proper within the Solar Empire, more specifically within a work camp that has most of its prisoners forced to mine for crystals and other raw materials north to the Crystal Kingdom, and we focus on one specific inmate; he is a young unicorn stallion and a former reporter named Inkwell. You may be asking, if you aren’t aware of what occurred earlier, why is he here? The answer is simple; in the end, he committed the greatest sin imaginable in this nightmare world that only vaguely resembles Equestria.

He disagreed with Queen Celestia. He even interrupted her at one point.

He voiced his discomfort with the newfoals and all the horrible things going on in Hoofington. Angered with his audacity, she gave him a choice. He decided he’d rather be worked like a slave than become a newfoal with a cutie mark. As hard as the prison camp was, at least he was free of mind though, unlike those poor saps that went to the "mind healers" instead. He had been in this Luna-forsaken hole for the past four days and had heard rumors of Fancy Pants’ demise from some passing remarks that certain prison personnel gave.

"... He was one of them all along," Inkwell whispered sadly. "But why?! Why didn’t he-"

The answer came in a flash. Inkwell was but a young interloper who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, while Fancy could not risk blowing his cover.
It was all such a horrible thing, that it made Inkwell shudder when it occurred to him: What happened to Fleur?

From what he’d seen in the discarded newspaper that his cellmate had lifted from a guard’s trash bin, Fleur… seemed to have been caught in the explosion. It had been such a fiery conflagration that the area around the house and been scorched down to the roots of the grass. He’d seen that newspaper, too… what had Fancy done?

Regardless, Queen Celestia maintained Fleur was alive, though newspapers doubted it. All the reason that Queen Celestia could cite for her seeming paranoia (not that paranoia was anything new for her) was that 'Betrayers are like weeds and rats - you are never truly rid of them.' However, given how things were after he had 'met' her and the Elements… something in the back of Inkwell’s mind told him that it was better that she shouldn’t come back and stay far away from them.

“Hey, pinhead; you gonna stand around all day or are you gonna move?” a grizzled voice asked. Inkwell turned to see another prisoner waiting to get inside the cell. He was an Earth Pony that had rather muted tan coloring, a charcoal black mane that was rather short and a cutie mark of a pickaxe with odd runes. His name was Rockwell, Inkwell’s cellmate.

Inkwell sighed. His cellmate, Rockwell (who had certainly been placed in the same cell by a guard that seemed to think he was just the funniest comedian in all of Equestria) was not exactly the dream roommate. He snored loudly. He once called Inkwell a filly. He treated him like a stupid child.

He was the kind of roommate (or in this case cellmate) that a particularly unforgiving sort would regret not having stabbed, or beaten to a bloody pulp with a chair. Inkwell considered himself decently forgiving, but Rockwell… was not doing much to help him there.

The reason why Rockwell was there… well it would usually depend on who you’d ask. One Pegasus said it was because he “robbed the First National Hoofington Bank with nothing but a quill.” Or that, according to another unicorn, he “murdered a Royal Guard using only his left hoof”. Or that he supposedly “helped smuggle Princesses Luna and Cadance out of Equestria” if you believed that strange Earth pony with the lazy eye.

Inkwell, however, suspected him to have been put in there for a drunken bender, given his consumption of the gulag’s “home-brew”. It must have given him an iron throat, as the stuff went down like flaming sandpaper. Though his actions during said bender raised even more questions.

Sometimes, when he was asleep, he’d mutter things; most of the time it’d be things about the Newfoals. They’d be rather… graphic things. Like taking one into a barn and tying it to a metal table before cutting it up like a pie or pastry. Other times though… he’d mention a filly, he never did say her name though and Rockwell didn't look like the responsible parenting type in Inkwell’s eyes.

One thing for certain was that Inkwell wondered why everypony held so much respect for this old grizzled stallion. Were some of the things that were said about him true? If that was the case, then which ones?

“Move it, ya prancy pinhead,” he muttered, pushing Inkwell to the side, onto the cold, hard concrete floor as he went to his cot; seeking to get some rest from his hard day’s work.

Rockwell could not, by any means, be described as ‘friendly’. Only by somepony with a lot of cider or wine could he ever be described as having anything but a passing resemblance to ‘approachable’. If you weren’t, like Inkwell is, you’d be seen as just a load that is wasting time and be called a ‘pinhead’, a racist slur against unicorns due to their horns and magic. For Inkwell, he just didn’t get why he deserved so much hatred for nothing he did to the grumpy stallion.

Or maybe it’s what he represented. For a lot of ponies, unicorns were the ‘face’ of the invasion of Earth. An invasion which, as Inkwell knows now, has brought little more than suffering and death to Equestria and Earth. Ever since he got here Inkwell had been having trouble trying to survive; the labor was difficult to do for the unathletic young reporter, the ‘meals’ they were given were nothing but slop, and the guards had been less than ideal.

Then again, nopony in here was exactly beloved by the Empire. This wasn't so much a place for criminals as it was a dumping ground for… undesirables. Human sympathizers, protesters, natural-born ponies on strike (assuming the newfoals that made up the bulk of Equestria’s menial war production hadn’t beaten them up for not embracing their full productive potential) conscientious objectors, activists who still thought Equestria was the same as it was before the Crystal War, ponies who asked the wrong questions at the wrong time (like him), or probably just the victims of some constable or guardspony’s bad mood.

What made things worse was that there were times when Inkwell was kept up at night, hearing horrific screams echoing from the walls and Luna knows where; whatever the source of it was made him shudder at the thought… it was better left unknown and not thought upon. Besides, given at how the newfoals were like it; trying to piece together something he only heard it screaming could be anything… it could even be worse than what he saw in Hoofington.

Judging by the fact that Twilight Sparkle herself frequented this prison, he didn’t doubt that. She did create the potion if the rumors were true, and out of all the Elements of Harmony, she was the closest to Celestia. Though he’d heard whispers about how she now referred to herself as Celestia’s faithful servant, not student like she used to. Whatever she was doing must have been very horrific.

Inkwell woke up to see Rockwell asleep, somehow able to sleep like a hibernating Ursa Major through just about anything. Though Inkwell had learned that he should never wake up his cellmate, not for anything; no matter what it was. He probably wouldn't have to worry, as Rockwell was hard to wake up.

If Inkwell somehow succeeded, though, Rockwell would be even more irritable than usual that way, and that was saying a lot. Inkwell hadn't been that wrong, but he learned one thing here: You did not screw with Rockwell. He very much valued his sleep. Not only that, but it was just impolite to wake someone like that. He’d probably deserve a right hook to the jaw if that happened.

And yet, that was something the guards hadn't seemed to pick up; it didn't matter who you were, they’d wake you up if you were sleeping when you weren't supposed to and Inkwell once watched as a group came to their cell just to drench Rockwell with cold water to tell him that he was a “meanie pants”… which admittedly was annoying to hear from a newfoal. Newfoal insults were just stupid, not least because ponies rarely wore pants, but because they had all the force behind them as a newborn foal’s hind legs… and the general intelligence of the mentally slow.

Another time he watched Rockwell come in, but looked like he gotten beaten something hard though. According to him, the warden liked to have 'appointments' with 'special' ponies; which admittedly made Inkwell hope that it never happened to him or that he’d get one.

Nopony wanted to ask what these appointments entailed. But if it was worse than all the other stuff that went on in this prison, then it had to be pretty bad.

Though admittedly, it was probably only a matter of time. The warden had… how to put this… what she called a ‘soft spot’ for Betrayers. Which meant she’d be even harsher on them.

Sighing, Inkwell went to his cot to get some shut eye himself… though it didn't help that Rockwell started to snore a bit loudly.

Inkwell couldn't move. His hooves were glued to the spot, and his bedsheets seemed melded to him.

It was so comfortable. All he had to do was lie down and refuse to resist gravity, just lie down and relax…

And yet something didn't feel right. In bunk beds nearby, stacked up by fours, there were even more ponies, all sleeping peacefully, unnaturally still.

Something was odd about the beds, however. Something was… something was wrong here. He could barely turn his head, and there was an odd cracking whenever he moved his jaw.

He gingerly rubbed it, finding an odd, hard lump. Taking a look at the pony in the bed next to him, a crystal pony-why would they be here? He stopped, jaw dropping. He could see his reflection in that crystal pony.

Was Inkwell a crystal pony as well? For there appeared to be a gemstone growing from that side of his jaw, straight up through bone.

'Shouldn't that hurt?’ he asked himself, his thoughts fuzzy.

Then he realized he couldn't breathe. He couldn't move his neck back, or feel his legs.

Crystals were creeping up his body, poking out through the skin. And he wasn't breathing. These weren't beds, he realized. They were storage of some kind. And he could see crystal creeping up his body as he stared into the immobile crystal pony. He looked to be crystal himself.

But it wasn't organic like the crystal pony’s. It was hard and angular, smoothing across his barrel and forcing his limbs to the side, into a shape like a tree-

No.

A totem-prole.

Oh, how he wished he could scream, as the crystal crept up his body, into his open mouth and his eyes and ears-

He could hear everything. Hundreds of ponies talking, and his vision was increased tenfold.

And yet he was immobile. He could feel himself slipping further and further away, into darkness-

“AAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEEEEERGK!”

Inkwell gasped, feeling his body. Oh, thank Luna, back to normal! Yes! He still had legs!

But… what was that scream? Inkwell wondered, rolling of bed, trotting to find that the cell door now led into the Crystal Empire. The bars on the side still showed a view of the outside, and yet… it was like there was a slice in space, a hole that poked into the Crystal Empire.

’What is this?’ He wondered, walking through, looking around to see the area was abandoned… it was practically a ghost town.

“Help!” A voice cried out, Inkwell turned to see a Crystal Pony, this one a unicorn filly, running towards him for some reason; panic and fear on her face.

“What happened?” Inkwell asked, seeking to help out and hopefully get answers.

"A… a monster! A monster is taking everypony away! I..." She broke down in tears, "It took away my parents…"

"Slow down, what kind of monster?"

"It… it looks like a pony! Said this… he said it was his right! It was his orders from his goddess!" she sobbed.

That threw Inkwell for a loop, a stallion was abducting Crystal Ponies? Why-

Before he could react a fireball nearly hit him in the face, one he only barely managed to dodge. He then saw a troop of Royal Guards approaching; this couldn't be good, given the fact that he’s viewed as a Betrayer now.

"Hand over the filly, Citizen!" the guard demanded, though he sounded hollow and emotionless, "She is necessary to the continued survival of Equestria."

"WHY?!" Inkwell yelled. "You've already destroyed half the city, why could you possibly-?" he then gulped. 'Me and my big mouth.'

"Hand over the filly," the guard demanded once again, still having that solemn emotionless expression in his voice and on his features. As if he didn't have any emotions to himself.

"Don’t let them take me!" The filly begged to Inkwell, hiding behind him.

The guard glared at the two before ordering, "Take her by force now, no holding back or warning shots." His dull voice said, the other guards nodding before starting to approach the two. Magic was already building up in a unicorn while the two Pegasi started to get off the ground.

'Ah, Tartarus. I’m right bucked, but I can’t just leave her,’ Inkwell internally sighed, trying to figure out how to solve the problem he’d gotten himself into.

He wasn't a fighter. No matter what prison labor had done to him, he couldn't take them on in a straight fight. So he had to use what advantages were on hoof.

So he grabbed the filly with his telekinesis, placing her on his back, and ran.

'How do I get myself into these things?!' Inkwell moaned internally. 'Right. Bucking inquisitive nature… what was it that Granddad said about it?'

"Now, grandson, you love to ask questions! That’ll get you far in life!"

TOTAL MANURE!

Almost immediately the two Pegasi guards instantly were on his tail, the first one clearly the better flier because it was able to dive bomb him without trouble… and tackle him to the ground; apparently making him taste dirt.

The second one caught the filly, who screamed and struggled to get out of his grip. "Help!" she screamed, hitting the other Pegasus guard in the face with her hooves which did jack-all. Unfortunately.

"Come on…" Inkwell whispered. "What to do, what to do-"

Then it hit him. A lot of unicorns had ignored the various spells foals would use in pranks; trampoline spells, popping spells like firecrackers, something like that. He just had to use something they wouldn’t expect.

He leaped for the filly, shielding her eyes with his barrel, and closed his own eyes, visualizing a bright light, imagining the feeling of watery, dry eyes, and-

“I CAN’T SEEEEEEE!” One guard shrieked.

“ARRRRRGGGGHHH!” The one guard holding the filly screamed, needing to release her to cover his eyes. She immediately jumped to Inkwell’s side and the two started to run once more… however, they were soon stopped due to a wall of fire that erupted in front of them.

Inkwell turned to see the single Unicorn Guard start to approach, his horn glowing with a fiery spell.

“You will burn if you continue to resist,” he droned, eyes glazed, approaching ever so slowly.

Well, now he had to deal with a unicorn Royal Guard… great. This was just not his day. He didn’t remember the last time it actually had been his day.

The Unicorn then attacked, throwing a burning inferno of a fireball that Inkwell just barely dodged. However, the left side of his hind leg got slightly burnt by the flame’s intense heat; this kind of magic must mean that this guard was an especially magically powerful spellcaster, which made things even more difficult.

What should he-

Suddenly Inkwell felt as if he had stepped into a sauna, the air around him felt thick and heavy like a summer’s day, causing him to start dripping sweat. However, it kept getting more and more intense and then…

And then it all clicked; he’d just gotten hit by some kind of inferno spell by the Guard and it’s burning him to death. He could feel his coat getting smoldered and the scent of his mane getting charred captured his attention, all before the worst of pains set in.

Inkwell then started to scream, by some twist he could still see but didn’t have the energy to keep standing and collapsed. The filly cried out and rushed to his side, pleading desperately for him to get up… however he was just burnt out, pretty much literally due to that spell.

All he could do was watch as the Unicorn’s telekinesis forced the filly away from his body and got suspended in the air, she was being sent towards… towards a large cart marked like one of the wartime ambulances he remembered from parades during the Crystal War. But something was wrong with it. It didn’t smell like there were wounded in there, it didn’t smell like blood… and there was something else to it.

He instinctively knew that was the same kind of wagon that had brought him to Canterlot Castle.

Inkwell tried to force his body to move, to say something to… to do anything possible until-

He blacked out from the pain, the last thing he saw being the filly getting forced inside, screaming and crying for help. He could also hear a stallion screaming inside as well, begging for somepony named Brighthoof…

Inkwell awoke from yet another nightmare, he’d been getting them ever since he got here. Though this one was different, it was layered; he had been in the middle of one nightmare only to ‘awaken’ and find himself in another. However, he soon realises that his cellmate was unusually quiet.

Checking the other cot, the young unicorn saw that Rockwell wasn’t there, and that the cell door was wide open. He spotted the Earth Pony walking down the hallway ever so slightly.

"What in Ce-" Inkwell stopped himself. It was mostly force of habit, but still... No. Absolutely no, no, NO. He wasn’t swearing by her anymore.

"What in Luna’s name?"

It would have been stupid to follow Rockwell. It would be a very dumb move. It would be a move that would make him stare at a book and yell at the character who would do it "YOU FOOL!"

...and yet, if they didn’t do that, there would be no story.

So, getting out of his cot quietly as he could be, Inkwell followed Rockwell down the hallway.

Rockwell went out quietly and slowly to the court yard, there were no Guards watching them and Inkwell just peered out from a corner to watch as Rockwell stands before a column of pure stone.

What was he going to do?

Inkwell watched as Rockwell gained a determined look on his face and concentrated, just what was he-

Suddenly, a circle of some kind appeared around the old stallion; the column of pure stone shook a bit before starting to rise up as a ball of magicks appeared in his left hoof.

"What’s going on here?" Inkwell asked himself in the quietest of whispers.

Well. Not much left for him to do. If he didn’t go through, the guards would find him. And do… things to him.

However, the column of pure stone fell to the ground; Inkwell watched as the ball of magicks faded and his cellmate started to cough up something… vile from his throat. Whatever it was… Inkwell could feel it from here. It reeked of a dark magic of some kind… twisted, and evil and disgusting.

Oddly enough though, Inkwell felt that it reminded him of… something about it looked like the potion, but only in the same way that water looked like oil. This looked like it’d choke your insides and suffocate you if you drank it.

There had also been strange experiments in this prison. According to the Queen, ponies that disobeyed her had fallen away from her grace, and thus, were not worthy of being ponies. So by that logic, he supposed that some of the terrible experiments that ponies such as Twilight Sparkle would conduct were thus perfectly legal… didn't help that warden’s selection process every two days would decide who goes to medical and who stays in hard labor; and even then those that could come back to Hard Labor would be bleeding out their ears and eyes, a horrific sight none the less.

Maybe he should turn back and go into his cell, because if Rockwell could do magic like a unicorn… then maybe he could kill a stallion with one hoof. The reason why for this fear was because Inkwell… well, maybe he wasn't the strongest-minded stallion around, and maybe he wasn't. It took guts to talk to Queen Celestia the way he had, and yet he’d been quivering in fear when somepony so much as looked at him funny.

Inkwell turned and slowly walked back to his cell. If Rockwell saw him, he’d probably get whacked for doing something stupid; however if it was a guard… no, he wasn't going to think about it. He just needed to get back to this cot and not get spotted. Rockwell could handle himself; and besides, why should he care? Rockwell was a horrible cellmate.

But there were still so many questions rolling through his head… things were going on in this prison behind the scenes; and unlike Hoofington, he would get drawn into his questions this time instead of seeking the answers out. Something was going on… and by Luna he was terrified what they might be.

And to be honest with himself, Inkwell wasn't sure he really wanted to know.