Unease, restlessness- a sort of nagging energy that wouldn't leave Jagged alone as he paced lengthwise to and fro in the cramped dorm. The week following the mysterious visit by Jade in the Scrapyard had been breathtakingly painful.

At first he’d been nervous, as the treasonous words passed between him and Jade-if overheard through some fluke or accident-would not go without severe punishment; nopony, not a single one, could know about the meeting. He recalled rather suddenly the execution he and his father had attended years back.

The pony in the chair had been charged with Outspoken Heresy. She had a muzzle on, one with small spikes so that if she tried to speak out, they’d impale her. The vein at her left fore-hoof had been hooked up to a bag of murky liquid; a drawn-out death through lethal injection.

Jagged could clearly remember the executioner cantering up to the stage, and the crowds energetic mumbling simmering down to a tense murmur. He could remember the heavy feeling in his chest, and his father’s excitedly beating heart. And then the executioner spoke-his words muffled by a mask of stone-naming off the crimes the prisoner had committed against Avalon. He remembered the fear that emanated from the doomed pony; the splayed ears, the grimace, the sweat. From the darker stain on her gray coat, it was evident that she had relieved herself in the peak of terror. And yet still, his father’s heart beat excitedly.

Two alien emotions had entered Jagged’s chest then; hate and fear. Hate for his father-as he was still trying to figure out why death was such a spectacle for the older stallion-and fear for the poor pony in the seat. When the plastic tube began to dribble the murky solution into the prisoner, she began to shiver, and as the first convulsion wracked her body she couldn’t help but moan out in pain. Her maw had been impaled by the spikes of the muzzle. It was then that Jagged saw red for the first time, and ever since then, he’d tried to forget how it looked. As the second convulsion arrived, her moaning had gotten louder- her shivering more intense. The red pooled at the spike wounds before running down her macerated muzzle to mix with colorless tears of pain. And as she died, cringing after a final convulsion, she looked up.

Forcing himself away from the reveries, Jagged returned to a reality that was not so far from his recollection. This time, however, he was the prisoner; not captured by Avalon, but by his own inner turmoil. He wanted change, and yet he didn’t. He wanted to show Avalon the Imperfection, and yet the care for the ponies within held him back. Ignorance is Bliss. Ignorance. Is. Bliss.

Ignorance is… death.

A dream only lasts for the time one sleeps. A self-induced façade of innocence, like youth, eventually crumbles. Jagged had woken up, and yet like a foal he chose to be selfish. He realized then, gazing up at the white ceiling with an awe stricken expression-as if he had only now woken up -that he had created a life of lies to protect him from the reality he had discovered. It was not that Jagged wanted his fate to be his alone, nor was he protecting anypony; he was afraid that he would end up like the prisoner from the execution- stripped of dignity, spilling red across pure white teeth. He was hiding from the unseen and the unknown, playing it safe so that his own tail would remain unscathed.

This had to stop.

In a swift move, Jagged arose from his bed feeling renewed and hopeful; the image of Jade projected itself on his conscious- he wouldn’t let her down again. Turning off the lights in his dorm, he ignited his horn and walked out, looking for a final time behind him; all that met his stare was stagnant darkness. He began to canter towards The Alleyway, his hooffall increasingly sure at each step onwards.

***

Gallop onwards to Canterlot Court,

To see the fine mare in her gilded fort,

With gold on her head and gold on her hooves,

Her warm embrace your heart it sooths.

Jagged hummed the foals rhyme with subdued enthusiasm, and altered his canter so that he matched the pace that he was singing at. He’d never felt so calm before, especially when it was Lights Off, and even more so, when he was anywhere within a rocks throw of The Alleyway. It was as if his mother was there with him now, trotting beside him- edging him on.

As the towering walls engulfed him, the temperature dropped, and with it, his odd sense of invincibility. To his horror, his natural doubting nature began to express itself, and try as he might, it was an uphill struggle. Out of all the times he’d done something foalish, this one time seemed as though he had finally gone too far, and all the prodding and provoking his necklace could do would not be enough to sway his resolution. A few paces away from the imperfection in the wall, Jagged collapsed, shivering bitterly. Who was he kidding? He was not some revolutionist or rebel, he wasn’t witty like Jade, or even that assured of his own potential at that.

A shuffling noise broke Jagged from his wallowing, and his head shot up- eyes wide and searching. Flaring his horn revealed only more wall and empty space. Just as he was about to get up and leave, less sure than ever before, the red orbs appeared-those demon eyes he had seen two weeks before-wreathed in the darkness just outside the reach of his flare spell. He hated red. His heart jumped a beat and he let out a muffled gasp- he froze. For a moment the orbs simply stayed there, hovering in midair, keeping their distance. Within that minute however, they had begun moving towards him.

“Stay back!” Jagged threatened, shuffling a pace back to maintain the distance.

“Or what?”

The distorted voice from the orbs had surprised Jagged almost as much as when they had suddenly appeared. He quickly recovered his composure, however.

“Or I’ll…” his voice trailed off, only to return a bit stronger. “I’ll zap you!”

It was a bluff; Jagged had an array of weak defensive spells, but next to no offensive.

“Really? You think I’d fall for something like that? Ha, offensive magic,” the orbs mused, moving another pace nearer; suddenly, the clippity clop of hooves echoed around the alleyway.

The noise intrigued Jagged; he had initially supposed that somehow, the orbs were their own entity, as only a muted shuffling would announce their arrival. Now, however, he was not so sure.

“Are, are you a pony?”

“Sort of, and now it’s my turn to ask a question.” Another pace closer. “Why are you here?”

“I, I ah…”

“Speak up, colt.” The voice had intensified. “Speak up before I make ya.”

Jagged found himself teetering on an unstable precipice. “I’m. I’m…”

“Eh?” the orbs demanded.

“I’m here for the Knights of Valor.”

“Who are these Knights, and what makes you think you’re in the right spot? Last time I checked, this was a door-less alleyway. My Alleyway.

Jagged realized the cover-up immediately, and despite his fear induced state, he smiled.

“Now look who’s bluffing. I talked with Jade.”

At the name the figure stiffened-then relaxed-uttering a brief sigh; Jagged knew then and there that he had said the right thing.

“You must be Jagged then, one of the Elemental Incarnates?” Though the title, seeming to be so high and mighty, repelled Jagged, he nodded anyway.

The figure had moved close enough to be illuminated by the soft glow. He seemed to be a pony of sorts, and yet it was hard for Jagged to determine exactly what stood in front of him, as it was swathed in a black vest of some sort that covered him from tail to hoof.

“I thought you weren’t gonna turn up, but Jade said otherwise. The damn mare is too optimistic I tell ya. Ah well, looks like I’ll have to dig into my damn savings and pull out a few bits…”

“Sir?” Jagged asked.

“Ah, yes, of course. Forgive me, I tend to drawl sometimes,” the figure admitted.  “Do you know the pattern?”

“Yes, I do.” shaking the dust off his coat, Jagged nodded and got to his hooves.

Now that his panic attack had finished it was becoming easier and easier to remain collected. Humming the nursery rhyme to himself, he tapped the wall by the imperfection according to the syllables in each line. For a moment there was silence, and then a deep grating noise arose. Before he knew it a door had appeared.

The first thing that Jagged noticed on the other side of the entrance was the fact that unlike any other building in Avalon, the walls and floor were black- whilst the trimming was white. The second thing was the dust. It covered the ground and permeated the air.

“Was this what you were looking for?” the figure asked, allowing a bit of sarcasm to slip into his tone.

“It’s dusty and, and inverted,” Jagged mumbled stupidly.

“Ya, totally alien, right? Ha, you Toplanders are a disillusioned bunch.”

“Toplanders?” Jagged asked as he followed the figure down a long hall.

“The ponies of Avalon.” He replied.

In response to the accusation, Jagged harrumphed. “And you’re not? You are living here, aren’t you?”

“I am and I am not.” The figure said. “Right now we’re walking through the oldest part of Avalon; it was made in the first few years by Celestia and Luna—”

On hearing the two familiar names, Jagged stopped mid-trot. The figure stopped with him and turned to gaze questioningly.

“I know those names; you mean the two goddesses were in the city at some point?” Jagged asked incredulously.

This was indeed a twist on the indoctrination he’d been taught in school.

“Longer than you would expect.” The figure said, continuing his canter; Jagged ran to catch up.

“How long? Last time I checked, the only connection the two sisters had with the dome had been sending in the Sinful Six.”

“The Sinful Six! By Chrysalis, what are they teaching you in those damn universities? Ridiculous.”

The sharp words did little to deter Jagged from pressing on. Moving so that he walked beside the covered figure, he continued.

“How am I to know? That’s what I was taught; I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Then forget. It’ll be the only way you’ll keep your sanity when Rust tells ya the truth.”

And then his pace picked up, and it was clear that the conversation had ended. Sighing dejectedly, Jagged followed behind the figure.

***

The room Jagged had been left in was extremely minimalistic. Black walls on a black floor on a black ceiling; a single groove in the ground that Jagged could rest in, and a white trimmed screen of sorts smack-dab in the center. At first, he had been confused, but he had then recalled Jade’s explanation that the only way Rust remained in touch with his Knights was via a television screen. Was this how he was to meet the mysterious revolutionists as well?

Gulping as the door to the chamber closed, he walked to the center of the room and waited. It was a mere minute later when an image appeared on the screen- emerging from a bout of static and white noise.

“Jagged, you’ve arrived.” A face, covered slightly by a black hood, greeted him from the pane of glass and electricity.

“Yes, are you Rust?”

“I am.” The slightly distorted voice replied with a nod. “But we do not have time for idle chitchat, as there is a more pressing matter at hoof. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Obliging, Jagged sat down and shifted his weight so that his flank fit snugly in the smooth indent. His silent staring signaled that he was braced and ready.

“Good. Currently, you are in Old Avalon- a network of underground tunnels and chambers that run beneath New Avalon. New Avalon was built mostly after Discord won out against Celestia and Luna in the Twenty Years’ War that had ensued when those willing to leave the Dome, and those happy with it, combated. Many of our own died in that fight, I recall that the streets had run with red…”

Red, Jagged shivered at the word. He hated red. What startled him even more so, however, was the fact that Rust had made it seem as though he had been there to witness the event. Could it be that Rust was old, or was it a simple succession line of those who impersonate themselves as Rust to keep the legacy going?

“…Those who had lost in the Twenty Years’ War retreated underground and built a network of tunnel systems. It was around this time that the Order had been created. We were the Knights of Valor, liberators of providence and compassion; brave ponies that fought relentlessly from our hideouts, staging coups and protests. A new generation of foals was born, and we strove to show them the truth- that there was a world out there.” The tone dropped then in a despairing manner. “We made little leeway.” There was a moment of silence, as if Rust was mourning that first disillusioned generation. “Discord had been swift in his indoctrination over Avalon. He had already changed the education system, and the Skybox, to his advantage, had fogged. Nopony in that first post-war generation could see the sky, or the moon, or the sun.”

There it was again, those two words that evoked such an intimacy in Jagged.

“Alas, like foalish colts and fillies we continued to fight until we had shunned our name- sullied our reputation. The ponies of Avalon didn’t like their delicate reality being contradicted anymore. Eventually it got to the point where a single soul, if identified as a Knight, would be outright lynched- or attacked in the streets. Seeing how the tide had turned in Discord’s favor and that most of our once-faithful followers had either abandoned the order to be Mind Wiped, or died of age, we disappeared. But maybe it was best, because those who remained suffered a far worse fate. It haunts me still to this day. Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Applejack, along with me and the dwindling followers of The Order, were attacked whilst we slept one night by Discords guards. Making the ultimate sacrifice the Mane Six, known vulgarly by New Avalonians as the Sinful Six, hid the rest of us and held Old Avalon till they were finally overwhelmed and captured. Weeks later, at their execution, I was given a note. Right before they had been arrested, they had hidden their elements.”

“Their elements?” Jagged asked.

“Yes, Jagged. And this is where you come in. As I’m well aware, Jade has already introduced a title to you; Elemental Incarnates, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. The Elemental Incarnates is to be the next Mane Six.”

Jagged scrunched his muzzle in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“The necklace around your neck, given to you by the late Starshine your mother and a member of our order, is more than just a necklace. I’d imagine you might have figured this out already, though. Have you experienced an instance when the necklace seemed to have a mind of its own? Has it tempted you to do anything?”

“Multiple times,” Jagged said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s gotten me into endless trouble.”

“Then it has found its host. The engraving on your necklace is the deceased Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark: the element of Magic.”

Jagged snorted.

“Then it probably picked the wrong pony; I’m a lousy spellslinger at best. My magic is refrained to lighting my horn, see?” he ignited the tip lamely.

“Jagged, what you know now is not what the necklace was drawn to, it is what you already have inside of you, and yet have not been able to access. It’ll help you with that. Twilight Sparkle was a masterful mage, at the time of her existence; it was argued that she was the most powerful unicorn in Equestria.”

“Equestria?” Jagged asked, blanching at the new word. “What’s that?”

From the looks of it, Rust’s demeanor seemed to deflate- but that could just be because the screen was going through a momentary fit of static that partially obscured him.

“Equestria is everything outside of the Dome.”-The topic quickly changed-“but I digress. Did you know that the powerful mage in which you represent almost failed her first major magic test? Back then, ponies were taught a far greater variety of spells, so she had no excuse.”

“Really?” this was news.

“Yes. And yet here you are beating yourself up over the ‘lack of spells you know’, when they hardly cover the most basic ones in your whole educational career nowadays. It’s foalish. You have potential.”

“Oh…” Jagged muttered, feeling oddly pleased with the praising words. “So what about the engraving in my necklace?”

“Of course. The necklace around your neck is an Element in disguise. There are five other ones scattered across Avalon, wielded by unsuspecting ponies or griffons. We already have two-three including yours-in our ranks. You met Jade, who is the element of Loyalty. She is the representation of Rainbow Dash- they are strikingly similar in a few ways, actually.” Rust mused. “Diesel, the one you met at the entrance, is the element of Honesty- the representation of Applejack.

“So, there are three of us here now?” Jagged clarified.

“Yes,” Rust replied simply.

“And how did you know that they were the Elemental Incarnates?”

“Because their necklaces behaved in a similar way to yours,” Rust replied with a shrug. “When an Element has found its new owner, it will slowly manipulate its host until it has filtered out the other bad traits- leaving behind a perfect representation of its Element. Honesty is expected to be honest; Loyal is expected to be loyal, and so on, and so forth.”

“Ok. I think I understand. When one of the Elements finds a host, they slowly change them so that they represent said Element?”

“Exactly; you’re a quick learner. Diesel took ages.” A static filled chuckle. “Now that the basics are out of the way, let me explain to you the plan. There is a very particular trait that your Element has. Since it does not stand as Honesty, or Loyalty, but Magic, the manipulation works in other ways; good ways. Aside from boosting and refining your magical potential, it gives its owner a very strong pull to the other Elements. Historically, it was Magic that united the Elements in times of need to fight back a greater foe. The powerful attack unleashed when the Elements are united, The Harmony Ray, has been used three times in recorded history. The first was against Bane, a giant demon who assumed the image of an Ursa Major, Nightmare Moon, when she had returned to wreak havoc on Equestria, and Discord, when he had returned from his stony prison to cause pandemonium. The Harmony Ray now needs to be used again, against Discord. In reality, it’s the Knights of Valor’s final hope. I’ve built a new underground resistance over time, but we’ll never be as strong as we used to be.”

“So I just have to unite the Elements together, and wipe out Discord? That doesn’t sound too challenging.” Jagged admitted; to him, all he had to do was talk to three others and get them to join the team.

“Oh, if only it was so easy!” Rust’s exclamation made Jagged shrink in on himself. “You misunderstand, Jagged. Uniting the six of you is only the beginning. There are many other steps that must be accounted for. Whilst I get the remaining Element holders together, you and Jade have a task to fulfill.”

“So I won’t be finding the others? But is that not what my Element is for?”

“It is, but I can easily track the others down without even making an appearance.”

“And how do you do that? Are there spies around the city?”

“No. There are cameras, however.”

“Cameras!” Jagged began to shake.

Cameras meant surveillance. All his outings to the taboo Imperfection could have been viewed by Discord! His talk with Jade… no. Cold sweat began to sully his lackluster coat.

“I, I should leave.” Jagged chattered.

“What? Why?” Rust exclaimed.

“The cameras. I would go to this Imperfection in the dome. Trespassing. Discord could see me and I’d end up like, like that mare at the execution. I could jeopardize The Knights—”

“Jagged, get a hold of yourself. You misunderstood.” Rust interjected.

“I, I did?” Jagged responded unbelievingly.

“Yes. Though there are cameras, I have access to each and every one of them.”

A revelation dawned then on Jagged, and he blushed in embarrassment.

“Were they set up by The Knights?”

“No, Discord set them up after the Twenty Years’ War.” Rust’s tone then became icy and ominous. “To first tame, one must be broken to the point where they no longer want to question. The cameras had been put up to monitor every action across the city- those that stepped out of line would be publicly humiliated, tortured, or executed.”

“Really?” Jagged said, eyes wide as he computed how terrifying that time must have been.

“Yes. However, these cameras have recently become the silent guardians of the city. I can keep track of the happenings that are occurring, and I can spot the other three Elemental Incarnates. But I digress. Before we can march up and topple Discord, we need to first sympathize with the Avalonians. Think of it like this: if we were to kill Discord at this point in time, we’d be confronted with a mass uprising to avenge the death of their ‘pious’ leader. This will not only dismantle the second part of the operation-that being the lowering of The Dome-but also terminates The Knights once and for all. What we need to do is wake Avalon up. Only once the citizens become ponies-as currently they are no more than propaganda spewing machines-will we be able to focus their anger to lead a revolution like no other. Turmoil will ensue for a while-closely monitored turmoil-and then we will come in, rally the masses and overthrow Discord. So now I ask you a question, Jagged: are you ready to paint The Dome blue?”

For a moment, the unicorn was silent. He thought, and thought; bouncing pros and cons, benefits and downfalls. He thought back on his life, and the state of Avalon, and his mother who, as a parting present, gave him his necklace; his mother who was a Knight. But then the shadow fell and he shivered a bit as he recalled the execution of the mare; how she had had her muzzle punctured, how she had wet herself, how she had cried.

He looked back up to Rust, silently observing him from behind the screen—