I'm dead! I... I... Wait. I can’t be. I can think. I can feel - but...

If I’m not dead, where am I?

I open my eyes, only to blink furiously as thick, red liquid washes over them. I'm submerged in the stuff, but there’s a mask across my muzzle, allowing me to breathe. I spin; my wings are still in place. Reaching up, I feel my horn, and then shake my legs. Oh, thank Celestia, nothing’s out of place. But why am I in a tube?

I squint, managing to make out a small room beyond the tube, the walls lined with machinery and computers. Cables and tubes snake into the roof, and then drop down to the top of the tube, most likely feeding me oxygen and monitoring my vitals. There’s only one door leading in and out of the room, and looks like the thick and heavy slabs of metal used to seal bank vaults.

Someone doesn’t want anyone coming in here... or for me to get out.

I look the tube over, searching for the exit hatch-

Wait. There’s movement from the door. The giant gears are turning, the clinking and grinding barely audible. Someone’s coming!

Going limp, I close my eyes, keeping one cracked open ever-so-slightly so I can see what’s going on.

Two ponies come in, each dressed in a black and red military uniform. One has a jet-black helmet around his head and a large shotgun slung at his side. Closing the door behind them, the two come up to the tube. Their efficiency in checking gauges and readouts suggests they’ve done this before, which means they’ll be quick to finish up and leave, locking the door behind them and leaving me back at square one.

If I’m going to get out of here, I need to act.

I twitch my legs.

The two look up, surprised. The unmasked one points to his companion, and she hurries out of sight. There’s a grinding noise above me, and the tube’s filled with light. I feel hooves going around the tubes above me, most likely checking them for leaks.

I yank on the tubes as hard as I can. A body falls into the liquid and I kick it against the tube, which wobbles, teeters, and falls over. The pony outside barely manages to get clear as the tube shatters, drenching the tiled floor in red fluid.

Choking, I yank the mask off and try to rise, my hooves slipping in the fluid. The other pony’s doing the same, trying to get to the door. Bracing my hooves against a computer tower, I throw myself into the pony, tackling him into a wall of machinery, thrusting my hoof against their jugular. It’s a trick Onyx Shield taught me in case I was attacked and couldn’t use my magic. In moments, the pony goes limp. I let go, and he falls to the floor, unconscious. Hurrying to the tube, I check the other pony and find her knocked out as well.

Okay... it won’t be long before others notice these two are missing. When that happens, this place – whatever it is – will go on alert. Security will tighten, and getting out of here will be difficult, if not impossible. I need to act, and quickly.

I strip the ponies of their uniforms, using one set to dry myself off as best I can, wiping my eyes to eliminate the blurriness, but with limited success; I must have gotten too much of the liquid in my eyes. But no matter; I can still see, even with the helmet crammed onto my head. It’s a tight fit, but I only have to wear it long enough to sneak out of here.

Dressing in one of the uniforms, I take the shotgun and look it over. It's loaded with rubber slugs. Good for incapacitating someone without killing them. Slinging it across my back, I take the pony’s badges and drag the two behind some of the computer towers. I should tie them up and clean up the tube and the fluids, but the clock’s ticking.

With everything set, I push the door open and enter a long corridor of concrete, indistinguishable from any military base I’ve seen. Buck... I was hoping I’d be able to recognize where I am. Worse still is the lack of signs on the walls. There’s no way to know if I’m at the top of a structure or deep in the basement.

Stairs. I need to find some stairs. With any luck, they’ll lead to the roof, where I can get my bearings.

I hurry down the hall, taking care to look like I know where I’m going.

There’s noise ahead. Voices.

There’s a door to my left; I shove it open and duck inside a storage closet, closing the door behind me. It isn't long before I hear hoofsteps outside.

“You’re sure the conversion chambers are back online?”

That voice... I’ve heard it before, but where?

“Y... yes sir. They’re ready for the next batch of prisoners.”

I don't recognize this voice, but it's fast and nervous.

“Good. What about this level? Was there any damage?”

“Power was out for only a few seconds. Not enough to damage any systems.”

“And Silverspeak? Did he wake up?”

“Two technicians are checking in on him now.”

“Good. Have them report to me when they’re done.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Now, where’s our saboteur?”

“In the interrogation room on this level.”

“Has she talked?”

“No, but we think she was here to get Silverspeak.”

She… Are these ponies talking about Beakbreaker?!

There’s a sigh on the other side of the door. “Then our enemy is getting desperate. Go find out who she came for. Make sure the boys aren't too rough on her. She can't talk if she's in a coma.”

“Y... yes, sir.”

The conversation ends, and the two speakers part ways. I barely notice the sounds of departing hooves; that saboteur... was she Beakbreaker? It has to be; no one else would break into this place - whatever it is - to rescue me. I need to find her, and fast!

Carefully pushing the door open, I peer out. There’s a small pony hurrying away from me. Making sure no one else is watching, I leave the closet and follow him, taking care to keep my distance as he hurries through the halls. I almost lose him a few times, but at last he comes to a plain, unmarked door and slips inside.

Hurrying to the door, I press my ear to it and listen, but can’t tell what’s going on beyond it. With a chill, I realize it’s built that way. While Equestria doesn’t torture prisoners, those who run this facility might not subscribe to such an ideal, and would want an interrogation room to be soundproof.

Slipping the door open, I peer inside. There’s no hallways or torture chambers awaiting me, only a white-tiled room with a tilted floor and a large drain in the center. There are several guards standing in a circle around someone dangling from wires connected to a metal ring in the ceiling.

Pushing the door closed, I hang back, wanting to stay invisible in the room’s dim lighting. Doesn’t look like anyone’s noticed me.

One of the ponies shifts, revealing… Wait. That’s not Beakbreaker. The prisoner before me is a changeling. Looks like the guards haven't done anything to her yet: her skin's free of welts and bruises, and she doesn't have any swollen eyes. And if she's afraid, she's not showing it.

“I'll ask again, changeling," one of the guards says, "Why are you here?”

“For my husband,” the changeling says. “I sabotaged the generator to break him out.”

“Oh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere. What’s his name?”

“Black Back.”

“Black Back... Hey, fellas, anyone here know a Black Back?”

The other guards shake their heads.

“Nope. Don’t know any Black Back here.” The guard gets closer, his snout almost touching the changeling’s nose. “I think you’re lying, missy. You came here to assassinate someone, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“Was it the base commander? Or maybe Silverspeak?”

“I said, no.”

“Who was it?”

“I told you, I came here for my hus-”

A punch sends the changeling reeling. “You want to lie? Fine. We’ll just show you what happens to liars.”

The guards go to a locker embedded in the wall and take out several riot batons, taking their time as they pass them around, making sure the changeling can see them.

“What are you doing?!" the small, nervous pony asks. "We need her alive! She can't talk if she's dead!”

“Don’t worry, pencil-pusher,” the guard says. “We won’t kill her. Just soften her up a bit. Some bruises here, a few cracked ribs there, nothing that won't heal." He grins. "After that, we'll move on to broken bones. We're good at those, right, boys?”

The others nod.

"If she still doesn't talk, we'll keep breaking 'em a little more each day. No healing or painkillers for you, changeling."

Sweet Celestia...

The guard twirls his baton. "Right. Let's start with your chest." He taps the tip of his weapon to her belly. "A few ribs oughta-”

I’ve heard enough. If Celestia were here, she’d stop these ponies. She’d take them into custody and try to rehabilitate them. But I won’t. There's a difference between bullies who relish in having power over others, and then there are bullies who delight in causing pain and suffering.

I'm going to give them a taste of their own medicine.

I run into the light, my shotgun raised.

The head guard spots me. “Hey, what in tartarus are you–”

I yank the trigger, and the guard’s head snaps back from the slap of a rubber slug. His fellows, caught off guard at one of their own opening fire, scramble to fight back as I fire again and again, knocking them out one after another. The shotgun clicks empty. I swing it like a bat, knocking the others out and breaking limbs until only the small pony is left.

“W… wait!” he shouts, scrambling against the wall. “Wait, please! I’m not with them! I’m not a torturer! Please, don’t-”

A hit smashes the secretary to the floor, where he joins his fellows in a force-induced sleep.

My makeshift club is dropped to the ground as I hurry to the changeling. “Are you alright?” Oh, wait. She doesn’t know who I am. Grabbing the helmet, I pull it off. “It’s alright. I’m not one of them.”

The changeling stares at me, unsure whether to be shocked, terrified, or relieved.

I glance back at the door. “We don’t have much time. I don’t know where I am or how to get out of here, but I’m guessing you do.”

The changeling doesn’t answer. She’s confused.

“I overheard someone saying you were looking for me. Is that true?”

She nods.

“Well, I daresay you’ve accomplished your mission.” Grabbing the wires holding her up, I rip them apart, gently lowering her to the floor before dashing to a rack on the wall and taking a fresh shotgun and two cartridge bandoleers. “Now, can you walk?”

She’s still staring at me.

“I said, can you walk?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, why are you helping me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Now, you know where we are?”

“Don’t you know?”

“The last thing I remember is a unicorn blasting me with a spell after Canterlot fell.”

The changeling looks at me as if I’m an idiot. But whatever questions or thoughts she has are shoved aside as she struggles to stand, finally managing to do so.

“Can you walk?” I ask once more.

“I... I think so.” She takes some weak, uneasy steps. “I can’t do any running, though.”

I hand her the shotgun. “You can pretend to be my bodyguard.” Turning, I inspect the uniforms of those lying on the ground. Only the secretary’s uniform remains clean enough to use, so I strip it off him. “Here. This should fit.” I give it to the changeling. “No helmets, I’m afraid.”

The changeling doesn’t answer as she changes. The uniform’s a bit tight, but it fits.

I glance to the door, hoping it really is soundproof. “Now, you do know how to get out of here, correct?”

“Yes,” she says. “But we’ll probably be killed in the process.”

“We’ll manage.” I take another shotgun and a vest to hide my wings, stuffing it with fresh clips. “I’m sorry about your husband, but we’ll have to–”

“He’s not here,” the changeling says. “He’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to–”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” She pumps the shotgun, and a flash of green light replaces her face with the visage of a generic, unassuming pony. “I’ll take point.”

I nod, letting her take the lead. “What’s your name?”

“Green Wing.”

“Nice to meet you.”

She hesitates and heads to the door. “Stay close.”

The hallway’s still empty when we leave. I close the door behind us and follow Green Wing as she heads down the halls. She’s doing her best to keep up a steady pace, wincing discreetly with every step. I don’t think she’ll accept any help, probably saying that it would make us stand out if I carried her on my back. She seems the type to tough out any pain or discomfort.

More soldiers appear in the halls. Whenever they do, Green Wing stands tall and marches normally, but only until the soldiers are out of sight. The moment they are, she has to pause and compose herself, wheezing from the pain. She still presses on, refusing to stop, heading down several staircases and halls, until at last she leads us into a side room and uses a spell to silently slice the glass from a window, allowing us to sneak outside.

I didn’t know what to expect once we got outside the compound, but we’re not in any base I’ve ever seen. Above us is an enormous concrete monolith; where the one in Genesis was built for elegance, this one is an enormous concrete brick surrounded by a maze-like mass of other concrete structures of varying sizes, each adored with flags and banners on the walls. There’s no markets, no booths full of merchants selling their wares, and no sounds of foals running about and playing. Everything here is concrete and steel.

This fortress, outpost, whatever it is, is contained within a cavern at least half a mile high, the walls and ceiling chiseled out of solid rock, and the front guarded by an enormous wall. Over fifty feet high, and peaked with guard towers and large spikes jutting both in and out, it’s clearly meant to keep anyone from entering or leaving. Beyond it is a jagged mass of steep, gnarled mountains bunched together, all bathed under the heat of the searing sun.

“I take it we can’t just fly out of here,” I say.

“You’d be right,” Green Wing says. “There are spells in place to keep anyone from flying and teleporting in or out.”

“Then how did you get in?”

“I pretended to be a soldier. Rode in on the supply train. And if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to sneak out on one.” Invigorated by the thought, Green Wing hurries on. I follow her into an alley, where she stops behind a dumpster, both of us listening for the sounds of alarms and pursuing guards.

All is silent.

I peek around the nearest corner and find that we’re on the edge of a plaza. There’s about twenty soldiers present, each carrying a shotgun. It appears they’re waiting for someone important, or perhaps for important cargo to arrive.

An alarm blares.

Oh Celestia, no! They’ve discovered I’m missing! Wait... this doesn’t sound like an emergency alarm. It’s more like a warning that something important is coming. Cargo, maybe?

Something heavy grinds against stone. A pair of enormous doors retracts into the walls, allowing a train to pass through. It’s not like any train I’ve ever seen: it’s hanging from cables instead of riding on rails, and the cars are covered with thick armor plates, thick bars covering the windows.

The cars sway as the train comes to a stop at an elevated platform, and the soldiers rush forward, getting into position at the platform, guns raised.

“We wait until it’s unloaded,” Green Wing whispers, “and then we sneak on.”

Keys are inserted into the car doors, which swing open with a loud clang. Soldiers rush inside and start yelling. But why? They wouldn’t dare yell at VIP guests. Maybe they’re yelling at workers to unload supplies? Doesn’t seem necessary to be so vocal or so angry.

Ponies leave the cars. Passengers who need to get off before the cargo is unloaded, perhaps... Wait. These aren’t passengers. They’ve got manacles around their legs, and their necks are chained together. But these aren't hardened criminals: they're ordinary ponies from all walks of life. They’re young, old, healthy and sick, children and parents, none of which matters to the soldiers, who keep yelling at them to move.

"What in heaven's name-"

An older pony is hit with the butt of a rifle, causing him to fall down the stairs. Instinct makes me want to rush to him, but Green Wing holds me back.

It's not just ponies who are coming off the train, for a few gryphons are forced off, their wings bound tightly, thick muzzles over their beaks. And then they’re followed by yaks, canines, centaurs, and even a young drake, who wears heavy shackles and is accompanied by five soldiers. Where the ponies were treated roughly, these prisoners are shoved, hit, and beaten, the guards mercilessly forcing them on.

“Why are they–”

“The pones will become Iron Hoof’s soldiers,” Green Wing explains. "Everyone else... Well, I don't want to think about what's going to happen to them."

“Iron Hoof? Who's he?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“I told you, the last thing I remember was being knocked out when Canterlot was destroyed!” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down.

Green Wing shakes her head. “He’s the one behind all this. ‘The Great Liberator,’ he calls himself. He’s trying to round up every pony he can find. Like I said, they become his soldiers. Everyone who isn't a pony... Well, we don't know what happens to them. They get dragged inside fortresses like this one and don’t come back out.”

A chill goes through me. “You mean they’re exec–”

“We don’t know,” Green Wing whispers. “But whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

I don’t answer her, unable to take my gaze away as the guards divide the prisoners into two groups: ponies and everyone else. Both groups have their chains attached to giant mechanical hooks that head into the monolith we just escaped from, forcing the prisoners to march inside.

Most of the prisoners are gripped by grief and barely-contained terror. A few cry out, unable to stop the tears from falling. The little ones... oh Celestia, the little ones cry out for their parents.

I... I have to do something. I want to rush forward and help them; it’s what Celestia would do–

“You can’t help them,” Green Wing says.

“Like Tartarus I can’t!” I say. “I can use my charm and force the soldiers to–”

“There are too many of them,” she says. “And when word gets out that you’ve escaped, this place will go on red alert. You want to help these ponies? Get out of here, and Luna will figure out a way to put your skills to good use.”

I can convince all the soldiers here to let these prisoners go, pony and non-pony alike. I know I can... but confound it all, Green Wing’s right. The moment my escape is discovered, the guards here will start shooting.

The last prisoners vanish into the monolith, the giant doors clanging shut behind them. The soldiers scatter, probably setting off on another task. Only a few are left behind.

“Let’s go,” Green Wing says. She starts towards the train, but I hold her back.

“I’ll go first. My charm should be able to get us onboard.” I start towards the train. Green Wing falls in behind me.

None of the soldiers notice us as we head towards the platform.

We’re taking inventory of the cargo, I think to myself. And checking for anyone who might have hidden themselves from the soldiers.

We’re almost to the platform. The soldiers still don't see us.

“You know where to go once we get out of here?” I whisper.

“I have a contact waiting in some nearby canyons,” Green Wing whispers back. “We get to him, and he’ll be able to extract us.”

We reach the stairs. No one tries to stop us as we head up.

Just a few more seconds and we’ll–

“Hold it!”

I stop. A pony heads towards us, flanked by four guards armed with automatic shotguns.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the pony asks. He’s an older one, getting quite along in years, but with no sign of slowing down. Something about him seems familiar... It’s his voice. It’s the one I heard outside that closet, the one talking to the smaller pony.

I turn on my charm. “We’re checking the cargo,” I say. “Making sure no one tried to hide from the others.”

“Is that so?”

Green Wing's hoof tightens on her shotgun.

The pony comes up to me. “Now, refresh my mind: What cargo was brought along with our latest guests?”

“Ammunition,” I say, guessing what a military outpost would need. “Medical supplies, weapons, the usual.”

The pony looks me over.

The guards grip their weapons tightly.

A bead of sweat trickles down my forehead.

“What's your operating number?”

Operating number?! Oh buck! Uhh... “GB158.”

The pony studies me.

Celestia, what do I do?!

The pony relaxes, his stern look giving way to a friendly smile. He chuckles, amused. “Alright, you’re good to go.”

Wait, I actually pulled this off?!

“You go on ahead and check the cargo... won’t find any, though, as that train’s coming in tomorrow.”

Ice water rushes through my veins.

“Also, soldiers around here aren’t given operating numbers.”

A yank of red magic rips the helmet off my head.

“You’re a crafty one, Silverspeak, but you were never going to get out of here.”

The soldiers raise their guns.

“Now, be a good pony, tell your accomplice here to put down her gun, and we’ll all head–”

He’s cut off as I hit him in the chin, throwing him through the air like a bag of discarded trash. Beside me, Green Wing opens fire, knocking the guards back before joining me in running for the gates.

“Stop him!” the older pony yells.

Guns open fire, chewing up the ground around me.

“No, you idiots! Don’t kill him!”

Green Wing tries to run, but she’s too slow. I throw her onto my back as I run for the doors. They’re starting to close, but I easily make it through and onto the road beyond the wall. It heads down through the mountains, switchbacking and twisting like a snake.

“Behind us!” Green Wing shouts.

Red dots pepper the ground ahead of me. I buck Green Wing off my back and grab her, using my body as a shield as bullets rip into me. I stagger under the weight of dozens of rounds trying to force me to the ground, but I keep running, one leg holding Green Wing in place.

The shooting stops as I get out of range. I can feel my body doing emergency repairs, but nothing feels critically damaged.

“Where’s your contact?!” I ask Green Wing.

She scrambles out of my hold and onto my back, where she surveys the mountains. “About five miles from here!” She points to my left. “Down in that canyon!”

There are more shouts behind us. I look back and see several soldiers rushing after us.

“Can he take care of them?!” I yell.

“Easily!”

Pegasi soldiers take off from the fort, and I realize running won’t get us to Green Wing’s contact quickly enough. If we’re going to get out of here, we’ll have to fly out.

I spread my wings. “Hold on tight!” When Green Wing’s legs are wrapped tight around my neck, I beat my wings and jump, taking to the sky... and promptly fall back to the ground.

What?!

I jump again, and again I fall. I look back and... oh no, my wings have been damaged! I can’t fly!

The soldiers get closer.

“Hold them off!” I say. If I can get a minute, maybe my body can repair the wings enough to–

“I don’t have the guns!”

“What?!”

“I lost them when you grabbed me!”

A spell slams into the ground.

No time to wait for the repair systems. I can’t fly, but from what I can tell, I still have the ability to glide.

“Hang on tight!” Turning, I leap off the road and slide down the slope into the canyons below us. My stomach turns as I spread my wings and jump.

Please work, please work, please work!

I fall... but not as fast as if I were plunging to my death. My wings are flapping wildly, the crystals barely generating just enough lift.

A spell shoots past me. A glance back shows that the earth and unicorn soldiers have climbed onto the backs of their pegasi brethren and are giving chase. There's too many to dodge! How am I going to... Wait! There’s a thin canyon ahead; our pursuers will be forced to go in a straight line, negating their numerical advantage.

I swerve left, trying to pick up speed as spells rocket past us, kicking up clouds of ash and dust as they hit the walls.

“Here we go!”

Green Wing screams as I shoot into the canyon. I don't dare look back as the walls close in, fighting not to have the tips of my wings clip the walls.

I hear a brief scream behind us, and the sound of a body being smashed to bits.

“The walls!” Green Wing yells. They're closing in.

I keep going.

“Pull up! Pull up!”

Almost there...

The canyon narrows to only a few feet.

More screams as bodies are ripped apart.

Almost...

The canyon vanishes. We’re back in the open.

I spread my wings, slowing our fall. “You okay?” I call back.

Green Wing doesn’t answer. A glance down reveals that her hooves are bone-white.

I look back towards the canyon. There’s no sign of our pursuers. Perhaps they collided with each other and were killed trying to chase us. That gives us a few extra minutes before reinforcements arrive.

“You know where we are?”

“Y... yes,” Green Wing stammers, still shaken from our escape. “We’re... we’re close!” She looks down. “There! That waterfall! Head towards it!”

I follow her gaze. There’s a long river below us, terminating at a waterfall that’s shrouded in mist and fog.

“Alright. Down we g–”

Something hits me. I cry out as my body goes numb. My wings give out, and we fall.

Green Wing screams, clutching my neck as she floats off my back.

The waterfall rushes up towards us. I try to flap my wings, but they won’t respond. I can’t pull up! Oh Celestia, I don’t have a choice: I have to use my magic! Closing my eyes, I focus, conjuring a shield and-

Oh buck! Buck, buck, buck, it hurts! I try not to scream, and fail as I hit something cold and hard, and then I can’t breathe as water rushes around me.

Swim! I have to swim! Kick through the pain, Silverspeak! But I can’t! I can’t move! I’m... oh Celestia, I’m sinking! I’m sinking! I’m going to drown! I’m going to–

Something grabs me. Green Wing?! No, it’s not her; it’s red magic. It yanks me up, and then I’m in the air again, where I draw enough air to scream at my pounding head. The pain’s so great that I don’t feel anything as I fall onto wet rocks at the shoreline. I’m... I’m at the bottom of the waterfall, but it’s hard to see through the fog and mist.

Someone walks up. I try to raise my head. Is this... is this Green Wing’s contact? Did he save us? No... it’s the unicorn from the fortress. The old one who realized who I was.

Green Wing groans beside me.

“Ten ponies, Silverspeak,” the older pony growls. “Ten good, honorable ponies are dead because of you. You just had to run and force them to chase you. Now I have to tell their wives and children that they died chasing a pony who refused to do what he was told.”

Through the pain, I see movement at the waterfall. The water’s parting as something comes through it.

Something big.

“Their deaths lie on your hooves, Silverspeak. You’ll pay for what you’ve done here today.”

No one notices the form emerging from the waterfall. Despite its enormous size, it moves silently, partially hidden by the mist and fog.

“We’ll beat your changeling friend to within an inch of her life, and then we’ll–”

The older unicorn stops, realizing that I’m not looking at him.

A growl rumbles through the air.

The unicorn turns, as does his troops, and they spot the form coming towards them.

Its mouth glows with the embers of long-simmering flames.

“DRAGON!” A soldier screams.

The enormous beast rushes forward, bathing the water and everyone in it with searing flames. The soldiers fire back, but are quickly overcome, their screams drowned out by the thing's infernal roar.

The unicorn curses, and his horn flashes red as he teleports away.

I try to crawl away from the heat, but the pain from y head is too great; I can barely move!

Then, as quickly as it began, it’s over. The flames flicker and die out, leaving charred corpses upon the shore.

The ground shakes as the dragon wades towards us.

“Stop!” Beside me, Green Wing struggles to stand. “Stop! It’s me! Green Wing!”

The dragon stops.

I try to look up. This... this dragon is Green Wing’s contact?

It growls.

“Don’t hurt him!” Green Wing yells. “He helped me escape!”

A giant, purple hand grabs me. Before I can shout, I’m raised into the sky, and come face to face with the dragon; angry, green eyes glaring at me.

“Spike! Don’t kill–”

“How is he?”

“Recovering. His mechanical components have repaired themselves, but his head and brain needs more time. We’re lucky–he’s lucky–to have made it here alive.”

Voices... distant. Can’t tell where they’re coming from...

How is he?”

“Better, I’m pleased to say.”

“But when will he wake up?”

“That, I can’t say. Could be days, could be months, or years, even...”

Where... Where am I?

“...don’t think this is wise.”

“Wise or not, Doctor, we need answers. Wake him up.”

Something’s changing. Not groggy anymore. I can think. Light... There’s a light. A... A lamp. A roof. But everything’s blurry... I can’t make anything out.

“Mr. Silverspeak? Can you hear me?”

I blink. Who’s talking?

“Over here, Mr. Silverspeak.”

I move my head. My vision’s still fuzzy, but I can make out an elderly pony beside me. He wears a doctor’s uniform, and peers at me through large glasses.

“Can you hear me Mr. Silverspeak?”

I nod.

“Good. I am Silver Scalpel. I'm a doctor.” He raises a hoof. “Follow my hoof, please.”

I do so as he moves it around.

“Can you speak? If you can, tell me your name, please.”

“Silverspeak.” I say.

Silver Scalpel nods, pleased. “Good. How do you feel?”

I assess myself. “Groggy.”

“Yes, that’s the result of the drugs. You took quite a beating rescuing Green Wing, most of which came from Spike, I’m afraid.”

“Spike? You don’t mean–”

“Yes, the assistant of Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

Him? That dragon was... him? “Why was he so angry at me?” I ask.

A sad smile. “I imagine you already know.”

“No, I don’t.”

The doctor leans in closer, studying my eyes. I instinctively try to back away, but I can’t. I look down; is my mechanical body still–

I freeze. There are metal straps around my torso and legs, binding me to a bed.

“It’s just a precaution, Mr. Silverspeak,” Silver Scalpel says, raising his hooves. “We couldn’t risk your mechanical limbs acting up and attacking us while we were treating you.”

I breathe deep, trying to calm myself. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe. Green Wing managed to calm Spike down, and then he brought the two of you here.”

“But where’s here?”

“Resistance headquarters. Now, there are some ponies who want to meet you. I’ll go get them and tell them you’re awake.” He starts off, then stops. “You really don’t know why Spike wanted to hurt you?”

I shake my head.

“What’s the last thing you remember? Before your escape from the fortress?”

Is this some kind of trick? “I was on the fields near Canterlot,” I say. “The city had just been destroyed, and a scarred pony shot me in the face. Then I woke up inside a tube in that fortress.”

Pondering my words, the doctor nods, but doesn’t speak as he leaves the room.

What... what was that doctor talking about? I’ve never met Spike before, much less done anything to offend him. Did he think I hurt Green Wing?

The doors open and Silver Scalpel comes back in, accompanied by six guards. They’re dressed in heavy armor and carrying large rifles. None of them look friendly.

“You need to go with these ponies, Silverspeak,” Silver Scalpel says. “I know this must be confusing for you, but they’ll take you to someone who will answer all your questions.” He goes to the bed. “I’m going to release you. Do you promise not to do anything rash or foolish?”

I can’t tell if this is some kind of trick. For all I know, this is a hospital ward inside that fortress, and this is all an elaborate scheme to deceive me. But the guards’ uniforms are different from the black and red ones I’ve seen, and the doctor’s being open and honest with me. I can tell from his tone that he’s not trying to trick me.

“Yes,” I say.

“Good.” Silver Scalpel undoes the straps tying me down.

I try my limbs and find them working. Satisfied that there’s no damage, I roll over in bed.

The guns are raised.

Silver Scalpel grabs the closest rifle and lowers it. “Guards, please. He just needs a moment to get going again. He has been out for a week, you know.”

I move again, slower this time, and step onto the floor. The guards surround me and start towards the door. I follow them, the doctor staying behind.

“Please, behave yourself, Silverspeak,” he says. “You don’t want to make anyone angry around here.”

We leave Silver Scalpel's office and enter into a short hallway of steel, the walls and ceiling crammed with pipes, tubes, and wires. The place seems jurry-rigged, as if it were put together in a hurry, and then built up over time. A hidden base, perhaps? I don’t have much time to look as the guards continue on.

A pony exits a door. Spotting the guards, he gets out of the way. But then he spots me, and his face hardens into a mask of anger and hate. As I go along, we meet other ponies and other beings who give me the same look, those with fingers tightening them into fists, and I’m suddenly glad the guards are around me.

Why are all these beings so angry at me?

Our trek through the halls ends as we enter an enormous circular shaft wide enough to hold a skyscraper, the top and bottom lost in darkness. The guards walk me onto a round platform and throw a lever, sending the platform up. It passes numerous other doorways, and countless lanterns lighting up the walls with thousands of tiny, flickering lights.

The top of the shaft comes into view, and the platform comes to a stop before a small, heavily reinforced door. Gesturing for me to hurry along, the guards walk to the door, and to four other guards, ones more heavily armored and armed than my escorts. They all submit to a magical scan, and then do the same to me, to which I offer no resistance. Satisfied with the results, the guards open the doors.

I’m shepherded into a large chamber. No, chamber isn't accurate: this is a place of worship, the ceiling towering higher than the roof of Equestria’s biggest cathedral. There are no banners, stained glass windows, or religious icons to be seen, or pews or benches, but the obsidian walls hold thousands of glowing candles. I recall a few temples having a layout similar to this, using candles to invoke a meditative stance. Perhaps the ponies here have done the same thing, wanting to create a sacred place where they can feel peaceful, if only for a little while.

There’s a pair of enormous curtains at the far end of the temple, and before them stands a single form. Hearing the guards and myself, that form turns towards us, veiled in the shadows of the candles

I squint, trying to make out who... Wait. Wait, I know who this is!

“Princess Luna!”

The Princess of the Night walks up to me, and I can’t stop myself from smiling. Finally, a friendly face! Perhaps now I can get some ans... Wait. She’s not smiling. She’s...

She’s angry.

The guards part, their weapons are close at hoof, ready to fire at me in an instant.

I bow. “Your Highness, what’s going on?”

“A great many things, Silverspeak.” Luna says, and her tone leaves no doubt that she’s not happy to see me.

“What things? Why is everyone here so angry at me?”

“You do not know?”

“No, no, I don’t know!” I shake my head, almost wanting to cry from confusion. “Your Highness, please tell me what’s going on!”

Luna studies me. In the resulting silence, I notice that she’s changed since the last time I saw her. Though she’s immortal and immune to the ravages of time, Luna now carries a multitude of battle scars across her body. Stress has etched lines in her once-flawless skin, making her appear as though she aged a century since I last saw her.

“Tell me everything that happened before you awakened in the fortress.”

“I was in the fields,” I say quickly. “The fields near Canterlot. I had just teleported my wife away from a group of pegasi and unicorns who were trying to kidnap us. And then Canterlot was destroyed, and this scarred pony had a unicorn shoot me with a spell. The next thing I know, I wake up inside this medical tube. I don’t know how I got there, or why, but I manage to break free, sneak out of the fortress, and take a changeling, Green Wing, with me. And then Spike attacks me, and I wake up in a hospital room.”

Luna’s uncertain, puzzled at my words.

“On your sister's name, I swear it’s the truth.”

Luna takes another step closer to me. “There is only one way to know if you are telling the truth, Silverspeak: to see your memories myself.”

I kneel again. “Please, do so, Your Highness.” If this will help clear up what’s going on, then I'll gladly submit.

Luna closes her eyes, and I feel a great sleepiness coming-

“Awaken, Silverspeak.”

I blink. I’m lying on the floor, and Luna’s standing above me. She’s no longer confused, instead looking like someone who has finally found answers to questions they’ve been seeking all their life.

From her expression, it’s not the answers she expected.

Luna looks the guards. “Guards, leave us.”

The lead guard steps forward. “But your Highness–”

“He is no threat.”

The guards do as their princess commands, closing the giant doors behind them.

“Your Highness, with all due respect, if you’re convinced I’m telling the truth, I need to leave,” I say. “I’ll gladly help with whatever is going on, but right now I need to get to Las Pegasus. I need to make sure Beakbreaker is alright.”

Luna’s face drops. “No one’s told you?”

“Told me what?”

Luna sighs. “Silverspeak... Please sit down.”

I do, feeling a sudden nausea building within me.

Luna rubs her forehead, unsure of what to say. “There is no easy way to tell you this, so I shall have to be direct. That day you speak of, when Canterlot was destroyed...” She takes a deep breath. “Las Pegasus was destroyed as well.”

What? What does she mean, destroyed?

"With Canterlot gone, our attackers turned their focus on the remaining major cities in Equestria. Manehattan, Ponyville, Las Pegasus, all were reduced to rubble."

Beakbreaker.... she was in Las Pegasus. Oh no... was she there when it was destroyed?!

"Where there any survivors?!" I ask. "M... maybe there are some hiding beneath the city!" I leap up. "I need to go and look–”

Luna gestures for me to sit. “There are none, Silverspeak. There can’t be.”

“There has to be! There are plenty of places ponies could–”

“Silverspeak, there aren’t any survivors in Las Pegasus.”

“And how do you know that?!" I scream.

Luna's not angry. She's not even upset at being screamed at. There's only pity in her face, and a sadness of a terrible truth she has to reveal.

"Silverspeak..." Luna says quietly, her voice almost inaudible. "Canterlot and Las Pegasus were destroyed twenty five years ago.”