The chaos continued, much to our surprise.
We'd thought that Willy Wonka, the man of the factory, had put an end to the madness.
Yet... he only made it worse.
He had no cake.
The cake was a lie.
And so here I stand, among the unconscious bodies of my brethren. Celestia hovered silently above me, still fuming at the false words spoken by Mister Wonka.
I had to do it. For my home. For Wonka. For the children.
Celestia... this... this horse... no--this beast--was she ever going to stop? Was this sugar-fueled rampage really caused by the lack of a single pastry, or was there something deeper afoot?
Nevermind that. This was no time to idly wonder.
I charged at Celestia, my candy-cane sword drawn.
If I die again, then so be it. I already had a second chance.