"Whatever happens," Sundance said to the filly that stood beneath him, "you stay with me. No matter what. Best friends stick together."
There was no response. No reply. The room full of ponies all stared at Sundance, who was more concerned about fighting his fear than he was battling and brawling a roomful of ponies. Ten ponies in total; Autumn Allium, a unicorn, two armored guards, two pegasus ponies, and four earth ponies. This was not a fight he could win, and he knew this. Which meant keeping his wits at all costs. Sundance was so far removed from his own pegasus roots that he really didn't know how a pegasus should handle this situation. What manner of aggressive posture was apropos? Should he display his wingspan to establish dominance, or would that leave his wings vulnerable, exposed, and easily broken?
"You have no choice but to let me go," Sundance said to the crowd around him. "And I'm taking her with me. Out of my way."
"I don't think so," Autumn Allium replied with a shake of her head. "You bit her. You're clearly a danger to her and—"
"And you're going to tell me with a straight face that you're not?" he demanded.
This clearly wasn't what Autumn Allium expected, and her eyes narrowed as she cast her cold, imperious stare upon Sundance. The two armored guards were a bit braver now, and they placed themselves between Autumn Allium and Sundance. As for the other orderlies, they remained in the corners, at a distance, but readied themselves for the inevitable conflict that was sure to come.
"You can't have her," Autumn Allium said at last. "I'll admit, this whole thing was a mistake. I should have just made you leave rather than hope that you'd be scared away by her."
"Yes"—he nodded his agreement—"you've made a lot of mistakes, I figure, and you're about to make many more. I have huge armies, soldiers enough to fill the skies. Powerful wizards. When I return, and you can be assured that I will return, I will take what is mine by force. And make no mistake, I will tear this place down brick by brick."
"Boss, this guy sounds delusional," one of the armored guards said.
"Delusional enough to be admitted for observation," the other added.
"I am a baron." Now stiff-legged, Sundance drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't at all impressive. "I am a pony of utmost importance." His own words galled him, and he loathed himself for saying them. "I am important because of what I do, which is to serve others. A great many lives depend on me. Should I fail to return home, I will be missed. The others know that I came here. My exact location is known. Should you try to detain me, you will invite your own destruction."
But, he found that he wasn't done.
"And if you detain me, it will be I who will punish you. To move against me is to face my judgment." He had no idea if this was true, but that didn't stop him from saying it. "Make no mistake, I will do to you whatever it is that you are doing to your patients here, and there is no force that can stop me. I am Lord Sundance of the Sunfire Barony, and on my lands, my word is law. Ponies live and die by my will."
There was fear in the room; Sundance discovered that his sensitive nose could smell it. Among all the other smells, such as urine and filth, fear stood out and caused electric prickles in the back of his sinuses, which in turn excited his brain in weird, previously unexperienced ways. Autumn Allium's smug superiourity was gone now, and was replaced by a neutral expression that revealed nothing. She was thinking, considering perhaps. Weighing the situation.
"We can't let him leave," the unicorn said. "All of our great work here will be exposed. All we have worked for will be lost."
"It was all over for you the moment I showed up at your gate," he said to the unicorn. "Let's face it… you got played. Twilight Velvet had a plan, and now, whatever it is that you have going on here, it's over. Trying to keep me here will only make things worse for you. There is absolutely no way that you can win here. Keep Sparrowhawk, and I'll come back for her. Keep me, and others will come for me. I would imagine that an irate Twilight Sparkle and her mother arriving at your gate would be enough… the army wouldn't even be needed. There is no scenario where you can win. So just let me walk away… and perhaps mercy will be shown."
The adrenaline jitters caused every muscle in his body to twitch, and his nerves were filled with lightning. Shame burned like a brand pressed into his brain; he'd just said some awful things, he'd implicated that he could abuse his authority, and that along with the adrenaline response made him want to spew. Even worse, he wanted these ponies to be deathly afraid of him, and some of his own primal responses betrayed him. He could smell their fear and a part of him liked it, a part of himself that he was thoroughly disgusted with.
When he thought about it, he realised that he spoke to them as if they were peasants.
As if his life was somehow more inherently valuable than theirs, and he'd even used the inflated value of his own existence as a bargaining chip. A bit of leverage that he applied against them. He'd just talked down to them—and now he very much wanted to throw up. Confrontation was not his strong point; his argument with Hollyhock had left a lasting impression that continually lingered in his thoughts and left him ashamed. Yet, what choice did he have? Violence? Yes, violence was still an option on the bargaining table. The unicorn certainly seemed to think so, if her expression was anything to go by.
"If I see that horn of yours light up even just a little bit," Sundance said to her, "you'll be illuminating the inside of this guy's colon." He pointed at the armored guard, and as he did so, he heard a demented spine-tingling giggle from beneath him. "I didn't become a baron by being a pushover… I've picked a fight with an owlbear. That's how I got these scars, see… and if I can pick a fight with an owlbear, I'll make short work of you."
"He's bluffing," the armored guard said.
"Try me and find out," Sundance replied. "Up for a little amateur proctology?"
It was a tense, sweaty moment, one that loitered dangerously and left the unmentionables moistened.
"We can't let him leave," the unicorn said.
"We can't keep him, either," one of the pegasus ponies said. "He's right. If we make this worse than it is, he'll put our heads on the block, because that's what the royals and nobles do. Kill anypony that disagrees with them. That's why they're in power."
Sundance very much wanted to argue this point, but kept his mouth shut.
"We could keep him hostage," one of the ponies suggested.
"Shut up, Polenta," the pegasus pony said. "I'd like to keep my head if somehow possible."
"I can grant leniency," Sundance said. "I have the power to give life as well as take it."
"He's lying," the armored guard said.
"I say we keep him, and wipe his mind like we've done with some of the others. Odds are good that he's lying, and nopony will come looking for him."
"Polenta, you really need to learn to keep your trap shut."
"We could just wipe his mind and let him go and—"
"Polenta, shut up. For the love of beans, just shut up."
Backed against the wall, Sundance took a moment to try and read a few faces, and did so as if his life depended on it. On some, there was fear. Others, aggression. As for Autumn Allium, she was neutral. Unreadable. Her body language revealed nothing. In her eyes, there was only cold cunning, an almost reptilian state of being. He couldn't tell if she had been swayed by his words, and he had no idea what she might do next.
If his mind got wiped somehow, what then?
Surely, that wasn't planned for.
The fear was a living thing now, a great unseen terror, and Sundance could feel his mind going. Little by little, he could sense his declining sense of reason. The urge for violence was a palpable thing and right now, there was nothing in this room that was more of a danger to him than he himself. He couldn't remember the way out and the facility was a maze of lookalike hallways and stairs. His sense of direction was broken and he was almost certain that he was underground right now. There could be no doubt that subterranean tunnels connected all the various buildings of the complex together.
Was he stuck?
That remained to be seen.
"Let him go," Autumn Allium said.
"If we do that, that's the end of us."
"This is already the end of us," Autumn Allium replied. "We knew the risks when we started. It's over."
Every eye in the room was now on Autumn Allium, and not on Sundance.
"Once again the Princesses hold us back," Autumn Allium said as she rolled her eyes. "Innovation is stifled and forward progress is impeded. Princess Twilight would have us all living in thatched roof hovels. Visionaries must be blinded." She turned her sad, defeated gaze upon Sundance, studied him for a time, and her expression warmed into something that was almost recognisable. "Your resolve is admirable, but I doubt that you will understand what you've done. The lives that you've ruined and the future that you've destroyed. We were so close to so many cures… new treatments. With results, anything can be forgiven… but our work is unfinished so we have nothing to save our necks. Get out. Just go. Take the filly and leave. You've saved one life at the expense of countless others."
Confused as he was, Sundance wanted to know more, but he did not ask. No, he would not be drawn into that discussion. He knew a verbal trap when he heard one. No, now was a time to be graceful, to be Sundance Sunfire of the Sunfire Barony. He cleared his throat to try and get their attention, and then drew in a deep breath to ease the fires raging in his lungs. All of his nerves flung electric darts into his muscles, and he was still very much ready for a fight.
"You're doing the right thing," he managed to say.
"This can't be over," a mare said as she cast her eyes to the floor.
"I'll show you out," Autumn Allium said to Sundance. "No tricks. No treachery. I want you to know… that no matter what you find out, or hear about, whatever comes after the dust is settled, we had good intentions. We took lives with no meaning, no value, and gave them purpose. Our actions were for the benefit of all. If you have any mercy to offer, please… keep that in mind."
As much as Sundance wanted to berate this awful mare, and argue with everything she had to say, he did not. In this moment, as blood trickled down his leg and puddled around his hoof, he was Baron Sundance, the best possible version of himself. He somehow kept his contempt corralled and kept a tight rein on his urge to chastise. It was, after all, an argument that he could not hope to win. There was no benefit to proving himself right, not when there was a foal to get to safety.
Rather than allow his worst base instincts to get the better of him, he gave Autumn Allium a solemn, meaningful nod. He acknowledged her and her words without judgment, and when he did, a downright surreal calm washed over him like a gentle wave lapping over a protruding rock. All lives had value, he thought to himself, even these lives. With his head tilted off to one side, a pose of thoughtfulness, he reminded himself of Cucumber, a pony that had done terrible things. Awful things. Mercy was a precious thing in short supply.
"We can't let him leave," one of the armored guards said.
"We can, and will," Autumn Allium replied in deadpan. "In the coming days, we will somehow have to prove that we are not monsters, and defend ourselves from the ignorant masses that will not understand the importance of what we're doing here. This is for our survival. We cannot appear to be lunatics in charge of the asylum."
In response, the guard groaned, but said nothing.
"We are not cackling madponies," she continued. "We are reasonable, rational ponies. Visionaries. Ponies of extraordinary vision… ponies not likely to be understood in our own lifetime, but history will be on our side. Keep your spirits up. Perhaps the worst will not come to pass."
To Sundance's ears, these words sounded hollow and meaningless.
"Please, follow me. I'll show you to the exit." Then, after a moment of prolonged pause, she added, "I hope that you will remember that we allowed you to walk. If there is mercy to be had, we shall surely need it in the days to come."
Again, Sundance nodded; he was too afraid of an argument slipping out to say anything.
"We are ponies of science…" Autumn Allium's words trailed off into a muted moan. She shook her head, cleared her throat, and a soft, almost inaudible wicker escaped her. Then, she said to the ponies around her, "Prepare the facility for what is sure to come. Inform the others. Whatever you do, do not purge our data. That might be what saves us. Things will happen quickly now."
Still against the wall, Sundance could sense the spreading panic.
"I'll show you out," she said to Sundance, and then she gestured at the door.
The red metal door slammed shut behind him and for the very first time in a good long while, Sundance was able to draw breath without painful constriction. He sucked in a lungful of outside air, and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Sparrowhawk, her head poking out from between his front legs, squinted and turned her head skyward. Then, she screamed. After this scream worked its way free, so did another, and another. She yelled, she hollered, and she shrieked.
Behind him, the door did not re-open.
No assistance was offered.
There was no help to be had.
Sparrowhawk shrieked with such intensity that Sundance feared that her lungs might tear. Mid-scream, she latched onto his bleeding leg, buried her face against his ribs, and then continued to wail like a siren. The sound was such that it caused his eyes to vibrate and jitter in their sockets, and sharp pain could be felt deep within his ears. When Sundance looked down, he saw a spreading puddle of liquid terror pooling around his hoof.
His sky truck was right where he'd left it. Somehow, he had to make the screaming stop, and he needed to get Sparrowhawk away from this place. Why was she screaming, anyhow? Her tiny, frail body jerked and twitched against him, and he could feel the torn skin around his leg getting tugged on. It hurt, but he was so caught up in everything happening that he barely noticed. The yelling was inside of his head now, a painful sound that permeated his brain and damaged his ability to reason.
If he strolled down the street with a shrieking filly in the cart behind him, there would be problems. The sort of problems that would be impossible to explain. Maybe even problems that might not be believed. And then those problems would turn into bigger problems, problems like being arrested, and then things could only get worse from there. The brick building and metal door were cold and indifferent to Sparrowhawk's shouting. He stood there, uncertain of what to do, fearful of every outcome, and almost paralysed from the overwhelming situation.
As it turned out, just getting her outside was just the beginning of his problems.
There was a weird tingle in his wings, and then he noticed a peculiar pull. It was a pull, but not like any other pull that he'd ever experienced. Nausea impaled his guts and he began sweating profusely as the peculiar sensation intensified into something truly unpleasant. Something in the back of his mind suggested that his very soul was getting yanked on, and he found this notion to be wholly disagreeable. Why, he didn't like this idea at all. Sparrowhawk's wailing continued unabated and his ears rang unpleasantly.
Around him, the world took on a strange purply-pink cast and his eyeballs warned him that they were going to pop right out of their sockets at any second. His legs turned to noodles; his extremities were suddenly boneless and he desperately wanted his legs to be wherever his bones went. But there could be no denying it, his bones were gone, and his legs were noodlefied. Which was really rather unpleasant. But this profound unpleasantness grew worse with every passing second, and the magenta hue in his vision turned blinding.
Then, Sundance could no longer feel his heart beating.
Perhaps it too had gone to be with his departed leg bones.
So this is what a milkshake feels when it is sucked into a straw, he thought to himself as reality turned rubbery and he was crushed on all sides by some weird pressure.
One by one, his organs seemed to vanish, and he could feel what he was sure were empty cavities within himself. With his liver on vacation, and his kidneys off to go potty without a hall pass, he wondered if this is what it was like to die. Autumn Allium had tricked him; she'd tricked him but good and now, he was dying. Well, so much for mercy. Earlier this morning, there was a proposal from a total stranger for marriage. Now, as he ceased to exist, Sundance wished that he'd taken that offer. He wished that he'd done a lot of things.
His death would not be caused by the smokestacks of the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen. No, he would die a noble death, having attempted to rescue a filly from some horrible dank asylum. But because he was a magical moron, he was tricked. Perhaps he shouldn't have trusted Autumn Allium, but he wanted to believe that ponies were good, even the bad ones. He tried to puke, only to find that his stomach had flown south. When he tried to breathe, his lungs simply winked out of existence.
Then, as he stood there, gasping for air, the magenta glow crushed him into nothingness.