In her awakening, there was little more than anguish. It began with it, and it ended with it. Though her mind could not comprehend such complex concepts as metaphors, to her, that awakening felt as if she was cast down from the sun into the deep, endless abyss of the black ocean. However, what awaited her at the other end of that abyss was yet another expanse of light, a pale imitation of the blindingly glorious one she had been bathed in her unconsciousness.

In short, her awakening was like being born through a birth canal.

A body that had not been living before, built from nothing more than organic matter and shaped to the likeness of an equine creature, was given that miraculous spark of light, which lit the fire of life in the small, beating heart. With a roar that red muscle began pumping blood into the veins, spreading both pain and ecstasy throughout the lithe vessel known as a body.

She let out a wordless scream that echoed in the chamber she was trapped in. Her very first words were that of misery. Every single part of her body was pulsating with pain. The joints of her bones, the blood circulation, the complex system of nerves, the internal organs; everything in her small existence was captured in a cage known as hell.

But all that agony and suffering was necessary. For it forced her still growing brain to search for something, anything, that could be called ”reality”. The normality of reality was only achievable through the pain of being born, and that was the basis of being able to function as a being. In other words, for her to gain consciousness as a living, breathing being, she had to search it through misery.

That was the price of gaining an existence from nothingness.

Blood-colored smudge that was too heavy and suffocating to be called a cloud filled her awakening mind, assimilating all the possible interpretations of what she might have become into a single existence. Those hundred variations of her ego were being destroyed for the sake of gaining something she could not even comprehend. The only thing her mind wondered was why she was being subjected to such a thing. And quickly, even that became a thing of the past.

In ancient times, a famous unicorn had called the state she attained ”anattā”. The state of no-self. A being without the idea or even the concept of empirical self. It was an empty, white utopia, a heaven as some said, where there was neither joy nor sorrow. There was no harmony nor was there disharmony. There was nothing that could describe that state. Therefore, it was not described. It was “ “.

Yet, in her world, even “ “ was painful. So painful that tears streamed down her newborn cheeks. The mere idea that she had a connection to something so vast and untainted was enough to make her cry.

Pale moon announced her cry of birth to the two onlookers.

She didn’t know how long she had been lying there, in the pool of unknown liquid, in the shattered remains of a large, crystallized cocoon. Her breathing became even, driving away the thoughts of pain and agony. The vocal organs that she did not know even existed produced the sound of her quiet whimpering, caused by the remaining memories of her torturous experience. She finally had a body that was able to shiver due to the cold, one which no longer associated living with pain itself.

She had finally arrived to a paradise of a different kind. One with only a single exit, blooming so beautifully at the end of every journey. The paradise most beings referred to as “life” where creatures lived under the constant fear of ceasing to exist. But to her, one whose existence boiled into the single notion of “ “, that paradise in the guise of hell was more beautiful than anything else. Her white song had only just begun, and she was determined to sing it from the top of her recently created lungs.

“—See? Her state of suspended animation has ended. Looks like that mad wizard was right. She was a success, after all.”

A voice unknown to her resonated in the bareness of the room.

The only light that illuminated the room came from the hundreds upon hundreds of luminous mushrooms that populated the corners and the walls like a silent army, judging the acts of the ponies inside. These mushrooms only grew on the decaying wooden walls of the building, signaling that they were deep under the surface of the ground. The green light was reflected from the surface of the single, broken cocoon in the center of the room. It was from this pod that a form of a young filly had emerged, shattering her former housing on the moment of her “birth”.

There were two witnesses to this strange emergence. Both were clad in red cloaks, heavy enough to cover their whole body. They wore armors of gold and black, with sleek helmets that covered their heads. The only thing different in the two ponies was their physique. While the one closer to the cocoon was lithe, the one further back was tall and muscular.

“Hmh. And so there are twelve of us once more. A pity what happened to Philotas, but that’s what happens when you conspire against the Prince. He should have known better,” the muscular pony said. “So, what’s up with the body of this thing? It’s just a filly as far as I can see. Did the cocoon we borrowed from the Queen fail? Or is there another reason?”

“Well, that’s because the mad wizard tried something a bit different this time. See, he reduced the physical prowess of this model, and focused solely in the magical ability. Innate knowledge, raw talent, understanding of Akasha… this filly’s got it all. The wizard rammed all the information he could into the brains of this thing,” the other pony answered. “I guess he wanted to create something to match the protégé of the Princess of the Sun. That’s the reason for this state-of-the-art ipposparion.”

“Ipposparion, huh? These things give me the creeps even when they’re just mindless drones. But to think that this one has a consciousness of its own… I’ll stick to metals and gears, thanks,” the muscular stallion snorted.

“Now, now. This thing is not your problem,” his friend snickered. “This cute little filly is going to partner up with Ptolemy. I’m sure he’ll have the time of his life with a creepy little thing following him around.”

As the two stallions laughed, the little filly in the pool of green liquid finally started to rise to her feet. Her grey coat softly reflected the luminous glow of the mushrooms on the walls, making her seem more like a ghost than anything else. The white, short mane and tail reinforced that picture, as did the ice-blue eyes. Agonizingly slowly, this apparition-like foal stood up, before casting her eyes to the two stallions. The shadows hid their forms from her, but she sensed their presence.

“…Have we been perfected?” the filly croaked. “Have… we been… finalized?”

“Yeah, sure. The mad wizard says you’re good to go. So, congratulations on being born, or whatever. Don’t know how much there is to celebrate for having been born into your duty, but hey, you take what you get, right?” the lithe stallion said. “Your duds are in the corner. Don’t be like Cleitus and go walking around without them, it’s embarrassing for us. Oh, and don’t forget to put on the blindfold. We don’t want you imprinting on anyone too early. That problem is for Ptolemy.”

The filly tilted her head questioningly, but as the shorter stallion sighed in annoyance and tapped his hoof against the stone floor, she quickly got on the task. Behind her was a metallic rack that held armor similar to the ones that the stallions wore, only meant for somepony of her size. Not only that, but there was a cloak for her too. But instead of a helmet, she got a black blindfold which she quietly tied around her eyes, covering them.

But it was alright. Even without her eyes, she could sense the presence of others clearly with her magic. And darkness felt rather comforting for her. To someone who was simply “ “, the idea that she could never see her own reflection was reassuring. If you take “ “ and add the concept of a physical body to it, it no longer is “ “.

Therefore, for her to remain as “ “, darkness was necessary. A notion of a paradox was unneeded.

“Are you all dressed up? Good. Then, it’s time for you to get ready to rampage,” the lithe stallion cackled. “Seems that your partner is making a small detour before coming here, but you can get plenty of practice on prisoners before that. The amphitheater is always busy, after all. But once Ptolemy gets here, you’re off to east.”

“…We shall then dedicate ourselves to that cause, until the time arrives.”

The two stallions nodded, clearly satisfied with the filly’s answer. The lithe colt gestured the foal to follow him, and with the flutter of his large cape, he turned around and marched towards the spiraling staircase that was the only exit out of the underground room. The tall stallion followed after him, with the filly coming last, still unable to use her legs naturally. Her walk was unnatural and clumsy, but with each step, she gained more experience of moving forward with her own hooves. It took only twenty steps for her to completely learn how to walk, the whole process becoming cruel mockery of the moment that was enchanting to most parents around the world.

“Oh yeah. You need a name, don’t you?” the lithe stallion suddenly said, stopping just before the staircase. He looked at the filly. “Got any preferences?”

“…We do not feel that a name is necessary. Yet we understand that it is necessary, for the sake of a convenient conversation,” the filly said and turned towards the stallion.

For a moment, the lithe stallion stayed silent, considering possible choices for the name of the filly. However, his taller companion grew rather impatient, and with a grunt stepped forth. He poked the foal with his front leg, judged her from head to hooves, and finally spoke out.

“Thaïs. You shall be known as Thaïs,” the muscular stallion announced.

The filly, now named Thaïs, shivered visibly. For a moment, her existence was shaken as a name was attached to what she was, or rather, what she was not. However, she quickly recovered from it, simply reasoning that it was for the sake of convenience. For others to address her easily, she needed a name, after all.

And so, the three armored ponies left the premises of the underground room, leaving behind only the mushrooms glowing in the darkness, and the shattered remains of the cocoon. The only “home” that Thaïs had ever known was now nothing more than broken fragments, completely and utterly worthless to the young filly. But, even if she had understood what a word like “home” meant, she would not have grieved over such an insignificant fact. Her mind was solely focused on her duty, etched into her mind from the moment she had been given a vague shape by the hooves that had created her.

But even though there were just three ponies silently walking up the spiraling stairs to the ground-level, they weren’t the only thing moving. There was something silently following the filly with a white mane. An ethereal blanket, a grey mist that seemed to hide everything into its depths, slowly crept after Thaïs like an obedient dog. It was not natural smog, but rather, the effect of the natural magical power that the filly released unconsciously.

It was the power of the newly awakened ipposparion, Thaïs – The new killer that joined the ranks of Equestria’s enemies.