Pinkamena slowly began to wake up, but somewhat wished she hadn’t. Her body ached immensely, probably from the numerous bruises and such on it. She had a horrible headache that felt more like a migraine, and, despite her just waking up, she felt exhausted. After opening her eyes, she questioned if she was really awake. The room she was in was pitch black; she couldn’t see anything. She tried to move her hooves, but she couldn’t, it seemed they tied her front and back hooves. They used shackles to keep them tied together, which was slightly overkill. She could maneuver enough to walk, uncomfortably, but not really much else.

She moved around slowly, trying to get an idea of her surroundings. She moved her hooves slowly across the ground, both to help move around, and because her shackles prevented her from moving any faster. She closed her eyes as to improve her sense of touch and focus, and to give her eyes time to adjust. Eventually, she ran into a wall. The room was tiny, maybe the size of a jail cell? The floor and wall were both made out of concrete, she could tell by the texture and coldness of it, the roof was probably also concrete.

It didn’t take long for her to scope out the rest of the room, it was smaller than she thought, barely the size of a small bathroom. Her eyes adjusted so she could see better, but the room was still very dark. There was nothing on the walls or floors, not even a bed or bucket. The room was empty, the only slight difference in the room was the steel door, she couldn’t see it that well, but she knew it was there from how different it felt from the rest. She realized she was probably in some sort of isolation room, she’s seen rooms like this in asylums before, and this is usually how they are. Except ones in asylums have walls and floors made of cushions, not concrete. They also have basic appliances, like a bed or toilet, this had nothing.

Realizing this is most likely where they locked her up after they knocked her out, Pinkamena sat on the floor and relaxed, having nothing better to do than wait patiently. They probably locked her up here while they decide exactly what to do with her, that was her guess, anyway. She didn’t even know these guys existed until two days ago; she could only assume from what she’s heard about them so far. Then, as her body slowly relaxed, she began to realize how weak she was. She was hungry and dehydrated; it suddenly felt tough to move her body again. How long has she been in here? A few hours? A few days? If they kept pumping her full of medicine to prevent her from waking up, there’s no telling how long she’s been here.

But, this isn’t the first time a situation like this has happened. Of course, it hasn’t been by an organization this big and powerful. But she had been captured and sedated like this before, and she’s gotten out of it. The best thing she could do now was wait, the only thing she could do really. But, that was if she was unharmed. In this scenario, her body needed rest. But sleep wasn’t an option; she had to be aware. So, taking a trick she learned from Zecora, she was going to go into a semi-meditation state. Her body will still be able to rest as if she was sleeping, but vastly slower. She would still appear to be normal and still be conscious. But, she would still be very vulnerable. She would have to relax herself completely, both mind and body, it’s the main reason why she doesn’t like to do it.

There was nothing she could do about the hunger and dehydration, that’s something she’d just have to ignore. Pinkamena relaxed her body and entered a catatonic-like state, her mind becoming empty as her body relaxed. She lied on her back on the concrete floor, staring at the roof. Time seemed to pass faster for her then, either that, or she just lost track of it. To enter this state of mind, you must be able to completely rid your mind of any kind of thoughts, to allow your mind and body to enter a state of equilibrium, to completely let go.

She could feel her wounds healing, her body regaining energy, it felt good. But, it was cut off by the sound of a door opening. She quickly jolted upwards, her state of tranquility quickly ending. The door was opened by two ponies dressed in the same kind of black as the ones she killed, which meant they were factory employees.

“Come out, slowly; I won’t ask again.”

It sounded like a stallion’s voice, but there could be some kind of voice spell on the suit, so there’s no real way to tell. She considered giving a smart remark, but that might have been an overall bad decision. Yes, she’s given smart remarks in dangerous situations before, but this was very different from any of those. This was personal, this was way more dangerous than anything she’s been in before, and it was going to be too fun to mess up.

Pinkamena slowly got up on her hooves and walked towards them with a neutral look on her face. She decided it would be better not to say anything at all; she wasn’t sure exactly what would set them off. When she got closer to them, she noticed neither was armed. Which could be a good or a bad thing, good because they’d be easier to kill. Bad because it could mean they were confident in their abilities, or there were more of them than what she could see.

They stepped aside when she got to them, wanting her to go in front, which was reasonable. But when the one on the left stepped aside, it revealed a bright light behind them they were covering. Since her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room she was in before; the sudden bright light was extremely painful to look at. Since she couldn’t move her hooves in front of her face to block it, she had to clench her eyes and quickly whip her head to the left. But, light was a lot easier to adjust to than the dark. She had to take a few peeks before she could see clearly, but when she did, she nearly gasped.

Before her was a factory, well, obviously, it was named The Rainbow Factory. But she’s been to factories before; this was nothing like them. In front of her were machines and gear of many varieties, the basics of a factory. Industrial lines were going through each of the machines, each one seeming to have a different function. But what was on them wasn’t some sort of product, it was live ponies! It only seemed to be young Pegasi, probably the failures she’s heard so much about. They were tied down with shackles to the conveyor belt and had gagges on their muzzles to keep them quiet; they had no way of breaking free or resisting. There were dozens of them, each barely a foot apart from each other on the belt. It ran through numerous things until it came to a stop, something else entirely. It was a giant meat grinder, like the kind you might see at a butcher shop. It had sharp metal spikes attached to it in numerous amounts; this was made for the bodies. Hopefully, whatever they're put through, it would kill them.

Under the grinder seemed to be some sort of giant container, but, surprisingly, there weren’t any body parts. Then she remembered what Dutch told her, that they ‘extracted’ the spectra. That’s probably what this whole process was for, to extract the spectra. The container had four tubes connected to it, leading to four other containers in the back of the room. They had a surface of glass, revealing some sort of rainbow-colored liquid inside, which she guessed is what spectra looked like. The top and bottom of the containers were black, probably to provide stability. But the conveyer belt and containers weren't run by just machines, there were ponies too, lots of them.

All of them were Pegasi, of course, but their numbers were still intimidating. They stood by the belts and containers as if to manage them; some had insane smiles on their faces, others had looks of horror. The sounds of laughter, screams of horror, and cries of pain filled The Factory. The light source from earlier was massive spotlights coming from above, behind them were a number of ponies. Some in the black suits, others in lab coats. They were also Pegasi, and if she had to guess, they were higher management and watched over things. This wasn’t just some factory making products, the blood, the pain, the torture, this was industrialized mass murder!

“This is…bea-“

Pinkamena was about to speak, a psychotic look on her face. But one of the ponies beside her noticed she was about to talk, and violently hit her on the back of the head, knocking her down to the ground.

“YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO! DON’T EVER ACT WITHOUT PERMISSION AGAIN! OR YOU’LL WISH WE’D KILL YOU.”

They barked, screaming right above her. This was the other pony, the one that didn’t speak. It was obvious they weren’t mad at her because she talked, they were enraged at her because she killed fellow employees, she could understand that. Usually, she’d feel angry at this. But there wouldn’t have been a point, killing them wouldn’t do anything. She was being watched; she would just get caught and probably beat to death. And in her current state, she wouldn’t be able to fight for long. She ground her teeth and held in her rage; she would save it for when it would be necessary.

She slowly got up, making sure not to make any sudden moves that would set them off. As soon as she got up on all four hooves, she was shoved forward by one of the two; she wasn’t sure which one.

“Move! Now!”

They yelled at her, again, less violently this time. She obliged, hesitantly, glaring at them before she did. She slowly began to walk forward, as they followed behind. As she walked on the rails, the Pegasi on the floor below looked up at her, at least, the ones that weren’t crying or screaming. Some looked up curiously, others with those smiles still on their face. The escorts behind her didn’t notice it, but she gave them an insane smile of her own.

The rails lead to a door, which was opened by another pony in black. It leads to an area more like a hospital, the roof was white and the walls blue, with the floor a white tile color. It wasn’t very crowded, with only the occasional pony passing by. But when they did, they always glared at her. There weren’t many doors; it seemed to be more of a hallway just to connect all the places. But the few doors that did lead somewhere, which was few and far between, had black card readers on them. There didn't have number pads like most she'd seen, they seemed to just need cards to open the doors. She assumed cells containing prisoners were the same, but the guards didn't give her time to look at her cell to confirm this. She tried to memorize the hallways, but there were so many turns and different places, and the ponies kept rushing her and not giving her any breaks. It was seriously starting to make her frustrated, and frustration leads to anger.

But, eventually, the hallways lead to a dead end. Well, not really a dead end, there was a door. Like the rest, it was also white with a brass doorknob. Unlike the others, there wasn’t sign on top of the door labeling what it is. Which was strange, while she couldn’t always read them, all the previous doors had signs on them. But this one didn’t, which meant it was special in some way. One of the ponies escorting her walked forward and opened the door, gesturing her inside. Her curiosity slowly becoming stronger, she walked in.