"We're certain this is the place, your highness?"
Luna continued watching over the building in front of her. Like any building in Kludge Town, it was more or less a rundown shack, but it was a slightly lower quality rundown shack than its neighbors. The walls were a slightly dirtier shade of brown, and had a few more cracks than its neighbors. But more than that, there was a telltale sign that gave away the building's identity: Little pink wisps of smoke escaped through the windows and the chimney, a byproduct of the potion that was quickly becoming the bane of Equestria...
Joy.
On the surface, it was a simple thing: A potion that caused the pony or creature who drank it to be... happy. Extremely, blissfully happy. Happier than they'd ever known it was possible to be, if only for five minutes. And if that was all the potion had done, Luna would not have had a problem with it in small doses. A potion that makes a pony happy did no actual harm to anyone. But it wasn't what the potion did, but the side effects of the potion that were quickly becoming the ruin of a nation. It was the fact that Joy never actually left the body, and continued to accumulate as it was taken. The buildup of Joy slowly deadened the emotions of the pony who took it, so that once they took Joy, they couldn't feel happiness, or sadness, or anything else, quite as strongly as before. Within ten doses, a pony couldn't feel happiness without Joy, and would do anything, say anything, sell anything, to get more. Within twenty, the pony couldn't feel ANYTHING without Joy, and would even attack others to try and get just one more dose. And then the true horror began, as Joy lost its effectiveness with each additional dose, and at thirty doses, the poor, unfortunate soul couldn't feel anything, with or without Joy...
These poor, unfortunate ponies would sit around, doing nothing unless told to, their eyes glazed pink and dull from the drug. Unless told to do so, they wouldn't even eat or sleep, because they could not feel fatigue, or hunger. It was nothing less than a living death for any creature who became addicted to the drug. And there were creatures selling it in Luna's kingdom. And even worse, her guards had caught someone giving 'free samples' of the drug to little colts and fillies...
If Celestia had been there to see it, Luna had little doubt that her elder sister would likely have glassed Kludge Town in her fury at such a travesty. Doing something like that to children? Unthinkable...
Luna's reaction to discovering this had been... extreme, but more calculated. She'd force-fed the wretch a full thirty doses of Joy, one each five minutes. Once his eyes had fully glazed over, Luna began interrogating him regarding the potion: Who had it, how had it come into the city, and where was it being manufactured. And following that information had led to the arrests of dozens of dealers, the apprehension of the entire smuggling ring that had brought it into the city, and now, a black op to take out the manufacturing center of the potion.
Strictly speaking, Luna shouldn't be here: Kludge Town was lawless, and had no actual government to regulate it, but Equestria had no real authority to step in and dismantle this manufacturing center, since it was outside of Equestria's borders. But unless the core of this operation was destroyed, Equestria would have more smugglers, and more dealers, trying to infect the city with this... this cancer that was trying to eat away at the heart of the kingdom. Joy had to be destroyed, or Equestria would be wracked with misery forever. More importantly, Luna wouldn't be able to sleep until she was certain that this nightmare was over, one way or another.
Turning back to the guard who had spoken just moments ago, the alicorn princess nodded, then said, "I'm certain. I can see wisps of pink from the building: There might have been a spill. Distribute masks: We don't want anypony breathing the stuff, not after last time. According to the information we've been given, the building is a front. The real manufacturing center for Joy is beneath the basement. There's a complex hidden below where the potion is manufactured, and then stored until it can be distributed. Thankfully, there's only one such place on the entire continent: Whoever it is that first concocted the foul stuff, they've proven to be the only one who can make it with any kind of success. Anyone, pony or otherwise, who tries to make it either ends up with a toxic sludge, or an explosion. So at least, in that way, the operation is simple: No brewer, no new Joy. The entire operation will fall apart once we've taken this place down."
Luna took a moment to examine the building again: It looked deserted, but as she'd just said, it was a front. Once a week, a cart would pull up in front, sacks of bits and other coinage would be taken in, then food and supplies needed to manufacture the drug were taken in as well, and then crates of Joy would be loaded up, to be taken whereever it needed to go. A second wagon would come the next day, and currency would be loaded in, payments to the various dealers and distributors, and bribes for various government officials. None of the distributors went in, and the ones who loaded the carts were what was now being called "Joy-Dead", those ponies who had exceeded thirty doses of Joy, and as such, never spoke or discussed what was inside. Still, that didn't mean that there wasn't someone, or something, inside the building, if not the complex below, to deal with intruders. There would have to be some fairly formidable defenses inside to dissuade anyone avaricious, or desperate and Joy-hungry, from trying to come in and take what was inside. It would be best to scout out the interior, and see what was waiting for them...
"Have your soldiers on standby," Luna commanded, imperially. "I'll use my magic to sneak inside, and see what might be waiting for us. If I'm not back within half an hour, send for reinforcements, and don't attack until they arrive."
Because if the creatures had anything inside that could incapacitate an alicorn, even the fifty guards behind Luna wouldn't be enough...
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In a form like a whisp of smoke, Luna cautiously crept through the top-most window. The sickly sweet tang of Joy-smoke filled the building, but since Luna was currently intangible, it passed through her without harm. She'd need to be sure that her guards wore masks when they came in, however: Joy-smoke, the vapor released when Joy was exposed to open air, didn't have the effects of the potion, but it could accumulate in the lungs, and make breathing difficult over time... and like the potion, it would never leave the body on its own. The princess couldn't help but shudder in remembrance: A crate of Joy had broken open during a raid last week, and five guards had suffocated from the fumes, gasping for air in desperation with the princess powerless to do anything to help. Without the brewer, and their knowledge of how the potion was made, there was no way of knowing how to create an antidote for the stuff: The potion's composition was an absolute mystery, even to the best alchemical minds of the current generation, and any attempt to break it down to its base components using magic caused it to become a toxic sludge.
After checking to confirm the building was empty, the princess navigated down to the basement, and searched for the entrance to the main complex. It was the work of a few moments to find the trap-door, and a few seconds later, she was in...
She was glad to still be in the form of a cloud when she passed though the entrance: While only wisps of Joy-smoke filled the building, the manufacturing center was thick with it, enough to choke any pony who entered in seconds. And the Joy-Smoke wasn't the only thing that would choke anyone who entered: A powerful stench came from a dozen powerfully built creatures of varying types who lay dead on the ground near the entrance, looks of horror frozen on their faces, the cause of death seeming to be suffocation. They'd dropped dead, most likely running towards the entrance. It was hard to tell how long they'd been dead: Joy-Smoke kept the insects and bacteria that normally feast on dead flesh away. Thus, the normal stages of decomposition were not followed. They looked partially mummified, so they'd at least been dead for weeks. It was clear now, though, that there was much more than a simple spill here. A stairway leading downward beckoned deeper into the compound, Joy-Smoke vomiting up from it now that the trapdoor was open.
Fluttering down the staircase before her, it was several minutes before she came to a large chamber...
This could only be the storage center, she thought to herself as she took in the surroundings. Dozens of crates filled the room, stacked three times as high as Luna herself, arranged in cubes five crates by five crates by five. Perfectly ordered and organized. Dozens of creatures, masked, but with eyes glazed with the mark of the Joy-Dead, walked about, filled with purpose, even as it was clear that none of them had eaten in days, if not weeks. As she watched, two griffins hauling a crate between them suddenly fell to the ground, unconscious or dead, the crate bursting open and spilling Joy everywhere, dozens of vials shattering and releasing their contents all over the floor. Joy-smoke released into the air, thickening the already fog-like haze filling the room. Without skipping a beat, two other creatures came and began cleaning up the broken crate while a third hauled away the two griffins, tossing them onto a pile of creatures in a similar state. No one was directing these creatures, and all of them seemed to be moving on automatic, following orders given to them by someone who no longer saw a need to oversee them. And why not? The Joy-Dead would continue following orders until told to stop... or they dropped dead.
Moving further on, Luna came across a doorway which led to a very impressive looking door. Not impressive in a 'Do Not Enter' sort of way, but in a 'I Have Money And Power, Respect Me' way. Easing in, Luna was shocked by the sudden stench that assaulted her: A creature, his corpse so mummified that it was almost impossible to tell what he actually was, sat in a fine chair, clad in expensive clothing, an expression of shock and horror clear on what was left of his face. He sat behind the remains of a fine desk, the furniture having collapsed under the massive sacks of currency that had been stacked upon it. Similar sacks filled the room almost to bursting...
It took Luna a few seconds to realize what must have happened: This was most likely the kingpin of the organization. In order to cut production costs, he'd likely replaced his workforce with Joy-Dead, or OD'd his current workers with the potion, whichever was cheaper and easier, and ordered the now mindless workers to follow a complex set of instructions to continue the operation without oversight. Like automatons, the Joy-Dead worked... until they dropped dead from exhaustion or hunger, as whoever had instructed them had either forgotten to instruct his minions to stop to rest and eat... or had not cared if his workers had dropped dead. And if enough of them dropped at once, a massive amount of Joy would be spilled, and Joy-smoke would fill the compound in minutes. The compound was clearly not well-ventilated, or at least, not ventilated sufficiently to allow Joy-smoke to exit the facility quickly, so if such a massive leak occurred, it would kill anyone without a mask.
Luna looked at the deceased creature, clad in fine silks and bearing gold on his fingers, wrists, and about his neck, and remembered the dozen guards, all dead just a few steps from the exit. All the wealth in the world about him, she thought to herself, and in the end he'd have no doubt traded it all for a single lungful of fresh air...
The door behind Luna opened, and a pair of large Joy-Dead came in, pulled out a pair of the large sacks of currency, then walked out. They took no notice of their dead master, his corpse no more interesting to the mindless workers than the chair he sat upon. And why not? Their orders were to keep the operation moving, not to aid their master. Had the kingpin kept aware, un-Joyed workers on his payroll, someone might have warned him of the spill, and brought him a mask, as well as masks for the guards. Instead, he'd choked to death from the fumes of his own product, his own greed the cause of his demise.
And nothing of value was lost, thought Luna to herself angrily. Selling poison to children? The flames of Hades couldn't burn hot enough, in Luna's opinion, for trash like this. She turned away from the dead kingpin and his piles of blood money, and returned to the storage center. Following a group of Joy-Dead carrying crates of supplies, she made her way towards what she hoped was the manufacturing center proper. The brewer had to still be alive, or else the flow of Joy would have stopped. And if he was still here, he had to be Joy-Dead, or else he'd have just plundered the building i the aftermath of the spill, then crept out with a fortune in any currency he preferred.
That suited Luna just fine: Joy-Dead meant that he wouldn't be able to lie about how he'd made his foul product. She'd interrogate the scum, get all of his notes, and then she'd have the guards dismantle this facility. The fortune in currency would be considered lawful plunder, given that Kludge Town had no laws, and would be used to help the victims of Joy. They'd take the surviving staff to be treated, once an antidote to Joy was devised, and hopefully, the nightmare known as Joy would be over and done with. And if, perchance, along the way, the brewer were to accidentally get dropped from about ten thousand hooves above the ground, well, no one was going to shed any tears over the scum of the planet suddenly becoming a colorful stain somewhere in the badlands.
Luna mentally shook her head. No, that wasn't the way things were done. As... immensely satisfying it would be to do such a thing, Equestria was a nation of laws, and no one, not even the ruler of the nation, should take the law into their own hooves.
Besides, if she ever did such a thing, she'd never be able to look her sister in the eye upon her return...
Luna's thoughts came to a halt when she came to what could only be the manufacturing center for Joy. Beakers, burners, tubes, and other, stranger equipment filled the room. Components seemed to be loaded into equipment at one side of the room, and after being entered into the various devices and whatnot on one end, went through all of this equipment, and ended up as Joy in a massive barrel at the other end, to be released through a spigot at the bottom, where the vials were filled, one by one by a creature wearing protective equipment. There was a huge crack in the top of the barrel, Joy-Smoke spewing from it and filling the room, and no doubt the rest of the facility. So here was the true source of the doom that visited this place: They'd overfilled the barrel, and the top had burst open, exposing hundreds and hundreds of gallons of Joy to the open air. When Joy was taken, the vials had to be opened and the contents consumed quickly, before the stuff vaporized into Joy-Smoke. At least a hundred gallons of the stuff was now vaporizing every hour, but it seemed that ten times that much was being produced, if not more.
There was enough Joy being produced here, per day, to reduce every pony in Equestria into emotionless shells... and this stuff was being distributed all over the continent, according to her sources in other countries. Luna doubted that the kingpin had intended for so much of the stuff to be manufactured: There wasn't much profit in turning the entire world into Joy-Dead, and once enough of the population reached that state, the enterprise would no longer be profitable. But because the leadership of this organization was dead, no one was here to say 'Stop' or 'Slow Down'. The creatures here would keep manufacturing Joy until either the world was flooded with it, or they all dropped dead...
Luna's thoughts were interrupted when she heard the rattle of metal on metal. She looked down, and saw... a small filly, emaciated from severe starvation, walking about the room examining the equipment. A manacle was clamped around one leg, connected to a chain anchored to the center of the floor. The thick concentration of Joy-Smoke had dyed her coat, mane, and tail florescent pink, barring perhaps the area covered by her mask. The coating of Joy-Smoke was so thick it was even impossible to tell what her cutie mark might have been, if she even had one yet. Her eyes were the most troubling thing about her: They were the glazed pink of the Joy-Dead, but more so. Her eyes were practically glowing neon pink. Somepony had drugged her well beyond the thirty doses needed to reach this state, and set her to work in this drug lab. But why...?
Sudden shock and horror filled Luna as pieces slid into place, and she realized what was going on. Heavens above, Luna swore in her mind, the brewer was a five year old filly!