"To those who are reading this, greetings and peace.
I am Furhich, leader of the Order of Order. We are a band of ponies who wish to return the world to harmony and order; we wish to topple Discord.
I do not need to tell you how much ponies all over Equestria are suffering at the whim of Discord. To him, they are just events of chaos, but to us, it is a fight for survival.
We are different from previous rebels. Unlike them, we have mastered Discord's influence on reality. Many of us can teleport freely regardless of boundaries, and some of us can revert areas touched by Discord's paws to its original, rightful state. This has given us a great advantage: we are still alive and well despite Discord's efforts to make otherwise; we are in hiding and on the run, but still alive.
We also know more than previous rebels. We know of the existence of the Laboratory; we know who you are and what you do. Your actions are mixed and confused; you side with him in things, and yet you help save thousands of lives through innovations and creations. Your ability to turn the tide of this battle is high, very high indeed.
Are we to be trusted? Consider this. We are fighting against Discord. Discord favours you for now. When he gets bored he will dispose of you, no doubt. But we are in no place to dispose of you, in fact, we value you highly. You are basically our only hope of winning. It is not a matter of trust, it is simply a matter of choice. Whether you will move out of your comfort zone and aid the world, or ignore this and be judged by history.
Can we win? Not by ourselves, but only through unity. We have a plan to defeat Discord. Should you agree, we will send it to you.
This leads us to the issue of communication. You will have received with this letter an artificial dragon. Communication via dragonfire is safest, but impractical considering the nature of dragons; we have therefore developed this - an artificial dragon. He is toothless, and contains a spell that stores messages unless prompted, hence lowering risk of physical injury or unwanted discovery. To prompt the message, poke its right eye, and it will belch out any messages in storage. If you do not poke it, it will not release its messages. The dragon feels no pain, as it is a golem of sorts, so do not hesitate.
We understand that you are a team of brilliant individuals. No doubt you are reading this immediately after one of Discord's visits; no doubt, the safest time to do so is immediately after he leaves, as we gather that Discord generally appears at random time intervals, but not directly after leaving.
To reply, feed the dragon your message. We await as long as necessary. Please, consider us, and our plea on behalf of Equestria.
Sincerely,
Furhich."
After the reading, everypony fell silent. Caughlin examined their expressions. All were torn between reluctance and guilt, especially Whooves, who seemed rearing to go already. She herself did not want to think about it. Could she just ignore it, pretend it did not exist? Maybe when Whooves developed his ability better, they could go back in time and destroy the letter before Caughlin could read it aloud.
She closed her eyes to think. Instead, she was filled with memories. Images of ponies on the run for their lives, struggling against Discord's latest design, images all seen while perfectly safe from harm. They were special and protected. All they had ever wanted was to learn, to work, to understand. Was that so wrong?
And then she remembered the Incident. She made up her mind.
"I'm in," she said softly, before her logic took over. "I'm going to help them."
"But our projects, our research! What about those? Are you going to throw it all away?" yelled a scientist, cracking from the unspoken tension.
"There is no need for a reality bubble if the world is no longer plagued by chaos," said Caughlin quietly. "Nor is there need for cotton candy clouds and chocolate rain if all they do is ruin crops. There is no need for painkillers if there is nothing causing pain! There is no need for any of these things, if we can end them at the root!" She felt herself flare up, but the energy was soon lost to weariness. "I refuse to force anypony. But I need rest. So do you all, since you've been working non-stop on the surveillance system. Go and sleep. Heck, we're all scientists, and we can't decide on anything unless set everything out properly and examine it. Tell me three days after so that I can send a reply."
"But what if Discord finds out?" stammered another scientist.
"Then we die," said Caughlin simply. What the hay am I saying? "Besides, we can still try out that thing. Plan number one."
That caused the murmur to boil into panic. "Caughlin Mare, you have gone mad! It must have been what Discord did to you! I suggest a motion to depose you of directorship!"
"And I suggest a motion for you to shut up," replied Caughlin, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm going to bed. And hey, when you all do the same, think about how many ponies can do that without worrying about the sky falling on their heads. That, or razor blades."
The last phrase made everypony except Whooves flinch. Without another word, Caughlin trotted off, and collapsed on her bed minutes after.
Whooves was one of the few who couldn't sleep - during the construction of the surveillance cameras, he had been unable to do anything, and the lack of activity had made him nervous. He paced the den restlessly, and when he got bored of that he began jumping back in time. Caughlin would have lectured him for being an idiot, he was sure, but there wasn't anything else to do. At least time-shifting felt natural to him, and helped to take his mind off things. Despite only being able to reverse a maximum of three point four seconds (his latest record), the process was draining and he soon found himself too worn out to even stand.
"Are you done with messing up time, kiddo?" snarled an old-timer from his bench. He was drinking something hot from a mug, and looked ill at ease. It took Whooves some time to pick up from his voice that he was one of the neigh-sayers. Whooves did not know how to respond. He knew how he wanted to, but that would only upset Caughlin, so he remained silent. The old pony took a sip and motioned for Whooves to sit with him. Wary, he complied.
"Bah," murmured the old-timer. Up close, Whooves could see just how wrinkled his eyes and snout were. There was an ugly, throbbing scar on his neck. "Well, kiddo. Caughlin's new boy. You decided on your vote? Probably have, eh."
"That's right," said Whooves defiantly. "I'm sticking with Caughlin all the way."
"You're not even sure of what it'll end up like, do you?" smirked the old-timer.
"Of course I don't! But I know what's going to happen if we don't do something. Nothing is going to happen. And everypony's going to be stuck in this cycle," defended Whooves.
"Aye. Young words, those are. Good on you." The old-timer's voice was suddenly filled with sorrow. "But you need to think for other ponies, too. Such as us. You all forget about us, just waiting for us to age and rot away, but we matter, dammit!" There was a brief, painful choke. "I'm resigned to the idea of being stuck. A cycle's a cycle for a reason, after all. Because things don't change that easy. That's why it's a cycle."
"But we can at least try, right?" pleaded Whooves. The old-timer took another sip.
"Let me tell you a story, boy, one about an accident from a long time ago..."
"How long?" quipped Whooves.
"When Caughlin was but a young mare, around twenty years ago," said the old-timer, annoyed at the interruption. "When we all first started."
It had been a year since the formation of the R&D department. We were settling into our new lives, our new home, learning to live with one another. The pony-in-charge was a stallion called Macquaire Pie, and his forte was geology. Most of our projects back then were focused on one aspect or another, not like today where everypony worked on their latest inspirations. And as Pie was the leader, he had the say of things, and we mostly worked on rocks - gems, bedstone, densities and such. Because of that, we needed sharp tools and their replacements every few months or so. Only Discord could give us supplies, so Pie had to put in requests.
Well, anyhow, one time Discord got bored with Pie's systematic way of asking every three months. He hates order, after all, and so he told Pie to bring him a tray of blunt tools for a change. Pie was on the director's stand, so he in turn asked Caughlin, who was as scared and withdrawn as any sciencepony could be. Not only that, she was the youngest one in our team. She was very nervous of course, and I find it so hard to blame her for what happened next - whatever the case, it was whatever had possessed Pie to ask her instead of somepony else that was at fault.
Caughlin carried the tools with her magic up the steps. She was too hasty, and she tripped on the last step. She sent the tray flying all over the two, and that's when it happened - Discord's scaly, physics-defying body was cut by a scalpel.
The sight of blood was just... Discord was the absolute ruler, there was no doubt. But to see him cut like that by such an accident... I guess several things happened that day, to all of us. We realized that Discord wasn't immune to problems like injury, or pain. He was just good at dispensing it. And we think he knew we knew, because at that moment he exploded. No, not literally, just his gasket.
You thought Discord was scary a few days ago? Hell, that was much worse. He roared and bellowed like a manticore for minutes, no words, just pure rage. Caughlin had fallen back down the steps in shock, and lay there cowering. I don't want to remember, but he said something like this:
"What on Equestria made you think this was blunt, huh? Asking for new tools? Are you toying with me? If this is blunt, I'm sure nothing would be wrong if I did THIS!"
We were surrounded by an illusion, or a simulation of something happening in the world above. This wasn't real, because Discord would never let us out, even if it was to teach us a lesson. We were in the middle of Ponyville, a small, peaceful town that produced most of the apples ponies ate. Discord roared again, and the skies turned gray. We watched in horror as Discord first ripped the buildings down, turning every possible piece of cover into thin paper. Then came the rain.
It wasn't chocolate anymore. It was scalpels, just like the one that had cut him.
It was horrible. We screamed and shouted until our throats failed as we watched the Ponyville residents...no, I'm not going to say anymore. You can guess what happened next. It was a massacre. There was so much blood, so much screaming, wailing, crying... the blades did not fall on us, even when we flung ourselves toward them. Like I said, it was an illusion. Discord had meant for us to watch it in its entirety, without giving us a chance of relief.
But we knew that he was vulnerable. I think he spared us just because he thought it was more fun. He's kept a careful eye on us since, veiled by his usual foolery and even affection, and heaven knows what really goes on in his mind.
"Then what happened?" asked Whooves, shivers dancing all over.
"Then we came back," choked the old-timer. He was now crying. "Discord returned us all except for Pie. As the illusion faded, he nudged Pie and said, 'Here's your new supplies', and left him there in Ponyville. Don't ask me how he did it. He's Discord, all right. Why, just to prove it was real, when we were back in here, he dropped a bloodied body on us. The stench was terrible. As for Pie, he probably went crazy from the trauma. Any of us would. We never heard of him again."
Whooves sat silently as the old-timer sniffled for minutes. He felt hollow inside. He had heard news of the Ponyville massacre when he was a child; his parents had been still alive then. They had been arguing about whether they should trade in some of their food for materials to build a better roof in case of it repeating itself in Manehatten. But he had no idea about the details.
"So Caughlin..."
"Caughlin recovered, or at least we hope," said the old-timer. "She blames herself for it. Goes a bit crazy whenever Discord threatens an area or somepony because of something we say or do, or fail to do. Haven't you noticed she becomes all pleading whenever Discord wants to do a demonstration of his powers?" He snorted and drank again. "And she hates Discord. She smiles and bows and things, but we know that deep down she hates him. We all should, really, just that none of us want to face this hate in case we get funny ideas and do something stupid."
"But why not?" exclaimed Whooves. "Why don't you just band together and fight back?"
"Because he's too powerful, you stupid foal!" shouted the old-timer, spilling his drink as he slammed a hoof on the workbench again. "What good is it if we die here and now? Tell me! What's the point? What's the point?" He breathed heavily. "Ponies are just ponies, boy. Discord...he isn't a pony, he's something much worse. He can be cut, he can feel pain, he can be led astray by emotions. The problem is that none of those are weaknesses for him. Just more death for us. And I... I don't want to hurt anypony anymore."
Whooves stiffened and bit his lip. He got up and left the pony without another word.
That night, Caughlin had nightmares. She awoke in a cold sweat and gave a yelp at two, fluorescent purple eyes met hers. The offending figure blinked, and in an act of stupid defiance lay back down on her blanket. She reached for it and held it at leg's length. The creature seemed content with that, and stared at her.
It actually feels kind of soft, she thought. For a dragon.
She hesitated, and finally decided to give it a quick hug. It gave no response.
"You're a silly little thing, aren't you," whispered Caughlin. "You probably don't even know what you are." The same could be said for you, her mind retorted. "Looks like you're the newest member to our group. My name's Caughlin. What's yours, hmm?"
The artificial dragon yawned and closed its eyes.
"Stupid. That's be a very fitting name for you. Stupid, the artificial dragon," said Caughlin, rolling her eyes. "Sigh. I think I'll let Whooves name you. I don't even know if I can keep you, let alone name you..."
That night, she slept with the dragon curled up next to her, and thought no more of the day's events until she woke up.