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// Extreme Conditioning 
// Story: Deus ex Machina 
// by Yamazaki 
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There is no doubt about it,” Celestia said softly to her sister on the other side of a wide round table deep within the castle they both resided in. Her voice much less regal than it was whenever the princess addressed her beloved subjects, “her findings really are conclusive; they can drastically revolutionize the very essence of reality-” she paused her sentence, stricken with vivid thoughts surrounding the repercussions of the coming threat. “Equestria will never be the same.” Celestia broke eye contact with Luna straight after finishing her sentence by looking down at the table, cutting the view of Luna's face straight out of her line of vision.
“But, surely you can't be serious! If they know...” Her sister began to protest.
“No, Luna, you're right,” Celestia lifted her head once more, regaining eye contact, “the citizens of Equestria shouldn't know about this. Some forms of magic are best left forgotten in the pages they were recorded in.”
Krieg's head hurt. Unlike a regular headache, it had been the result of an impact; his head hitting either a wall or the floor (probably both) after being thrown forcefully into the vehicle, that he would usually have associated with prisoner transportation. The headache gradually worsened with every movement as he tried to pick himself up. He couldn't see anything through the darkness other than a tiny patch of light shining through from a tiny rectangular window with three bars extending vertically down to erase the miniscule chance that anypony could actually fit through and escape. Krieg began to lift himself up further to look out the window to get a view of his surroundings and therefore gain what situational awareness he possibly could. As he did, he heard deep, distorted voices. Identical to those spoken by the armoured ponies who had seen through the illusion of his counterfeit horn. “Pegasi and earthponies are still hiding out, they must be getting clever if one was able to disguise himself as a unicorn,” said one of them.
“We can still counteract their tactics. Besides, so long as we deal with new ones at birth, any pegasus or earthpony genes will eventually die out through Extreme Conditioning,” said another, equally emotionlessly.
So that's what they're doing, thought Krieg. He began to wonder what grim plans these ponies had for him. Through the window, he could see more of Ponyville rolling past. Some of the houses he saw were crumbled beyond recognition; imploded in on themselves with their residents long-since purged. A school which he vaguely recognized stood with its windows smashed into a dark interior, accompanied by a rusted flag pole vacant of any banner it may have once carried with pride. The state Ponyville had become made him want to look away from the window, to cower back into the corner he had been thrown into and await his fate. Yet his visceral resolve kept him standing, itching at his mind to find a way out, to complete his objective.
That was when everything turned upside down, literally. Using his wings, Krieg was able to quickly correct himself from the sudden state of disorientation that had pounced upon him without warning. As his eyes darted from left to right to scan for any changes other than the fact he was now standing on the ceiling and immediately saw that the walls were severely dented. He could hear hoofsteps and the same deepened voices but quieter and low enough to make words unrecognizable. As he turned himself around, Krieg could see that the door had been broken off. More specifically, it was hanging off a single metal hinge. Krieg could barely believe his eyes, as he stepped towards the door, turning around 180 degrees and raised his hind legs in the air before bucking it. With a deafening 'clang' sound, the door split away from the single remaining hinge and landed and on the grass a few metres away.
Stepping outside, Krieg found it difficult to contain his smile. A gust of wind lifted the tips of his mane and he could feel the cobbled path on his hooves. He realized that, if not freed by this unforeseen circumstance, he quite possibly would have never been outside to feel these again. What had caused the incidental miracle soon revealed itself when a hoof was placed on his neck. Instinctively, Krieg maneuvered himself away from it and pushed away whatever it was that the hoof belonged to. It was a surprised-looking orange mare. “Whoa, now! It's okay, they're dead,” she said defensively. Krieg eyed her suspiciously, she stood by the overturned kart and as she said, two armoured corpses lay on the ground, one of which had its head at a complete backwards angle. Beside her stood a pink pony with an equally pink mane that was somewhere between straight and curly. Like any puffy curls had deflated over time. After a couple of seconds of Krieg's mute scrutiny, the orange mare said hurriedly, “Now we gotta go, they'll send reinforcements!” Upon hearing that, Krieg bolted into action by searching the corpses. He searched pockets of armour with both his hooves and invisible wings. “What are you doing?!” asked the orange mare, sounding bemused at Krieg's lack of distress for the seriousness of the situation.
“They have something of mine,” he answered while continuing to rummage. “Got it!” He announced quickly while prizing out his saddle bags from a pocket of armour.
“Great,” she said equally quickly, “now let's get outta here!”