I am flabbergasted at the sight of this. My pulse is going mad! A delivery I've been waiting to arrive for a while now has come, and I stare at the chest containing my prize in anticipation. I can feel myself losing my prim demeanor due to my giddiness, and I cannot resist any longer! Crouching down, I unfasten the latches to open it, my anxiety being dreadful on my nerves. As the lid pops up, I push it up and over, my beaming face ready to dive into-- Hang on... Something isn't right here.

I examine the articles of clothing it contains, and I feel puzzled. This isn't what I ordered! Maroon velvet, cream silk, radiant satin... These do not at all compare to what I wanted. How could they have made such a terrible mistake!? Still... these are quite high-quality. I may as well deal with it and make use of them since they are here. Closing my eyes and sighing, I make a mental note to file a complaint with the company and give them a stern talking-to.

I open my eyes. There is only darkness.

The infinite void surrounds my vision as I wake from my sleep. Was I dreaming just now? My breathing is quickening as I attempt to figure out where I am, sitting up from my position. I'm in some place without a speck of light to give any sense of location. Extending my hooves out, I find an open side of what I can assume is a bed under me, hopping to the floor and examining the rest of the room. It is a very small space with solid, flat walls except the one opposite my bed, which there is a large groove for. The shape implies it must be the door, the way out, if there even is one. Something about all this is familiar, but it's still new to me, somehow. I have done this before. Why am I doing it again? A deep breath for concentration enters my nostrils, and I can focus once more.

There is another small dip on the door's surface that my hoof detects, and it's rectangular, like something that can be opened. These sorts of things are how prisoners get food and drink. Is this... a prison cell? My anxiety increases at the thought, and I pace around the enclosed space. Wanting to calm down, I sit on the bed and notice it is quite comfortable. The covers seem to be made of a fine silk, well-crafted and-- Hold on a moment, what is silk? How do I know it's well-made, anyway? It's all so confusing; my cell is being strange to me again. I cast away my thoughts and hold the soft blanket to my face and chest, reveling in its texture. Unsure as to why, I'm given a great calmness as it brushes against my coat, and my body submits to a sigh of relaxation. A smile stretches across my muzzle as I lay my head on the pillow that provides just as much comfort. I wonder what kind of food I will have next session?

The sliding panel in the door echoes within my room as it opens, causing my head to turn to attention to look at the source, but of course it's far too dark to see anything.

"Water," somepony feminine outside says. I raise myself out of bed and take a few small steps towards the door, bumping my nose into something hard. Readying myself for my dosage of water, I begin drinking the cool substance as normal. It's tasty and quenching, helping me to relax. My mind wanders while drinking, and curiosity takes over. Why did I not notice it before? The water here, it's different than usual. This instrument that's being used, it's not quite right. It returns for a second drink. I gulp down the serving as fast as I can, then snatch it out of the air with a hoof. It was floating, which must have been why it seemed strange.

"Return the instrument," the voice commands, still calm and collected. Ignoring her, I sit on the floor and examine it. My hooves run along its length, striking it with the tips and listening for -- no, feeling -- the sound it makes. It's certainly a spoon made of wood... but how do I know this? What is the difference between something wooden or some other type of material? It was floating before, somehow. The way it was suspended in the air, it seems familiar, like something I should have knowledge of. Shaking my head, I try to push the thoughts aside. I don't understand why my mind is doing this to me.

"Return the instrument. Final warning." My contemplative thoughts break by the sound of her warning after a few moments, and I stand up again. Taking the spoon's handle into my mouth, I walk towards the door, trying to guide it into the panel. It bumps the edges a few times, but I manage to get it through the opening and it is taken away.

I suspect she is leaving now due to my actions. However, the sound of water droplets is heard again, and the instrument returns for the third time. Taking my last drink for this session, I think to myself that there is something odd about why she still let me drink. Everything is still so confusing. As I finish the water for this session, the instrument retracts and the panel closes, leaving me alone in the darkness once more.

I'm starting to feel a bit tired. Perhaps all of the thinking is just too much for my head, so I need to quit doing that and rest. Sighing, I climb into my bed with what feels like a body weighing far more than it should. My hooves don't even finish draping the blanket across me before sleep takes over.

I awake in the darkness, thinking about what I was dreaming of again, except I don't believe there was anything this time. It's strange, since I know that I dream all of the time, even if I am not sure what about. Something was a little different with that sleeping session... The thought passes out of my head in a split second, and I find myself rather confused. What was I thinking about, again?

A crackling sound comes from the ceiling to interrupt further pondering, and I realize that her voice is coming. I stare up at the noise out of an automatic reaction, despite there being nothing to see.

"Socialize," she states in the usual dull tone. A sliding panel on my bed's wall reveals itself just to my side, an echo signaling a small tunnel within. Turning my head, a very dim light can be seen coming out from it to guide my way through. Not having anything else to do, I sit up and crawl into the opening, being careful not to bump my head due to how constrictive this is. After I'm inside the shaft, the way to my room closes, trapping me inside. I panic for a moment as I whip my head back, and as I do so, I get a glimpse of my body.

I'm... grey. My coat, my mane, my tail... It's all grey. That's not right. It's not supposed to be grey... is it? I am unsure; I need to move on. Shrugging off the morose feeling, I turn forward to go where the light is, crawling through this small space until I can figure out where I'm supposed to go. There is a square gap in the floor with the dim light coming from it up ahead. From here, I can also see the tip of a ladder. As I reach the hole, I adjust my position so that I may climb down. I look below my hooves and still find it difficult to see, so I use a hind leg to reach down to find the next rung. Gripping the sides with my front limbs, I begin descending, careful not to fall.

After a couple steps, my hoof clops on the floor, and it is just as solid and cold as my cell. I step down, taking in the new scenery. It appears to be a rather large room. The dim light casts around the walls from up above, a single source at the center of the ceiling. Everything is grey. I notice there are ponies coming from various holes up there, the same as I did. They are grey as well. Is that unusual? No, there is nothing unusual. Everypony is the same. Same mane style, same body shape, same color... Color? What is color? I can't seem to explain it to myself, but this inner voice of mine is preventing me from moving and thinking on my own. It keeps flustering me, but I find I'm able to dismiss it with a simple deep breath.

I begin thinking about what we are doing here, socializing. How do we socialize? As the last of the ponies climb down from their tunnels and their rooms, I glance around to find a hint of what to do. My confusion isn't alone, as I can see that many, like me, are clueless. It seems like some of them already know how to socialize, however. Several ponies create groups, coming together and using body language to greet each other. A couple pairs are affectionate, nuzzling their cheeks.

There is tap on my shoulder. Turning to my side, I see a smiling mare with the same mane style as me. Grey mane. Grey coat. Everypony is... She steps closer with a mixture of concern and sadness in her colorless eyes, then brings her forelegs up to wrap around me, squeezing me in an embrace and resting her head on the side of mine. I want to protest, but I can tell this sensation is... good for me. Her body is warm, unlike the bitter cold of my room. The way she rubs the back of my neck is soothing. This feeling is somehow strange and unfamiliar, yet at the same time I know I've felt this before.

My own forelegs move to return the gesture as well, and we adjust ourselves to a tight, mutual hug. I rub my cheek on hers, and she does the same. Her heart beats on my chest, matching my own. I can feel myself grin, the inexplicable emotion overwhelming me. This sense of togetherness... I know I have had it at one time. Why can't I remember?

We break the embrace at the same time and gaze at each other for a few moments. I open my mouth to greet her.

"He-- Hello..." My voice doesn't feel right. It's raspy and low, as if unpracticed. Do I never speak any more? No... Did I ever? My mind stops as I'm confronted with another inconsistency. I know there is something off about this. This isn't right. As I leave my thoughts for just a moment, I can see my companion's eyes widen. Her hooves back away from me, and I extend one of my own to try and halt her.

"Wait," I murmured, "what-- what's wrong?" I try to clear my throat, but the noise of doing so seems to just draw more attention to myself. Glancing around, I can see everypony is staring right at me with surprise. I don't understand. Was it wrong to speak? It couldn't be, everypony can speak. "Come on, speak up," I ask my friend with a smile.

"Ah-- ah... H-hi...?" She struggles with her scratchy throat, and I can see everypony shift their eyes to her, widening them even more. Even this mare's own voice is surprising herself. My friend must have the same problem with it. Not talking for so long can make it difficult. Again, my head gets a jolt. When was the last time I spoke? I can't remember...! I'm feeling a headache coming on. My hooves go to the side of my head in pain, and I remember that deep breaths can help. Concentrating on that, I manage to calm down again. The air is so crisp and cool, I feel like I can breathe easier than ever in here.

The mare in front of me shakes her head, then glances around to see that everypony is looking at her. She crouches down and covers her eyes as if afraid, shivering in place. I walk closer to her and lay down in order to reach her for another hug, in order to try and cheer her up. I'm not sure how I knew this would help, but it seems to. She returns the embrace, and I can feel her warm tears on my cheek.

A deafening sound that is similar to the one of panels sliding open echoes throughout the room. It was much heavier and louder than a panel, and many of us, including me, cover our ears from it. Numerous hooves scramble towards the side walls as two ponies in the darkness come our way, the crowd making a path for them. They must have come from a hidden door.

As they get closer I can see it's a mare and stallion, both with horns, and they are carrying black leather bags across their backs. They are wearing some kind of clothing, tight black uniforms with buttons, and the way they are walking this way is very coordinated, deliberate. These two look stunning. The appearance of these two ponies is much different than the rest, which I find strange. Why can't I look different, too, and why do I get a sense of dread from them? Is it merely due to the difference, the uniqueness? I stand still at my position, facing them with vigor. I fear no unique qualities, only embrace them with-- My head is killing me. It almost feels like it's unraveling. What is this place? How did I get here!? Everything is... grey! Collapsing to the floor, my hooves go to my temples to try and massage the pain out, but it's not working.

I hear the hoofsteps of the uniformed pair stop in front of me. Opening my eyes, I see gray hooves planted on the ground, unmoving and firm. I glance upward to see the unicorn mare staring down from above, her face with a certain demeanor as if to chastise my appearance. The stallion turns to the one I befriended with the same look in his eye, his large frame looming over her in the dim light.

"Number 164. Speech," he says to nopony in particular, his solemn and not-so-raspy voice echoing in the darkness. I see a kind of needle instrument float out of his bag, and it shoots like a dart to prick her on the backside before she can react. In just a few seconds, I see her close her eyes, falling asleep. My heart begins racing, continuing to aggravate my headache. The other ponies back away from these two, leaving me at the mercy of the mare, to whom I turn my attention again.

"Number 283," she states, and I know what is going to happen now. "Speech." I don't want to fall asleep. I don't... My eyes squint at the silhouette of the syringe, and as it races towards me, I fling out my left hoof to knock it away without thinking. It bounces off my hooftip and clatters to the ground out of sight.

I can feel everypony's eyes on me after what I did, including the mare I just challenged. Glancing around, I verify that, and I spot the instrument on the floor a few steps away. It seems helpless and alone without a pony to guide it. It's... relatable.

"Number 283... Resistance." Her voice changes tone, and I whip my head back to look up at her. There are at least ten needled instruments floating next to the mare, and I can see her face. Her eyes, her mouth, her ears, her posture... it's an expression. She is... expressing! My mind sparks with an epiphany, but it snuffs out as I feel pinpricks all over my body. My consciousness falls into the same solid darkness as my cell before I even hit the floor.