Sunset
My dear you must take this letter and the attatched documents to the princesses.
The upper rainbow fatrtory is a circuis of phsycopaths the source if spectra, a machine used of fillies and colts whoi fail Cloydsdale flight test. fanatics preaching PURIFICATION OF THE FLOCK evolution crap. Atttatched are documents off proof take to the princess for her eyes only dont burden uyourself with the images
i did two weeeks as an engineer in theupper factory dont believe whats happening here bucjk it all th hell. The made me sighn secret documents i'm breaking silence OJ passed thank Celestia but this is a dasnger to my own colt. This was supposed to be A TEMPORARY JOB a month tops I doubt I'm getting out of here knoiwone leaves but HER rainbowe dasdh. Shes the headmare this isn't fucking loyalty, loyalty to the bucklin g company what about your fellow pegasi.
Darling I dare say that I wont make it out of here please tell the kids I love them give Princess documents, I love you and always will keep Dusk bright and OJ safe.
'That 'll do' Night Strike whispered to himself as he finished his frantically typed letter 'ahh' a loud banging on the door startled the tense engineer. 'Hey Night Strike... the boss want's t' see ya' a gruff voice called out to him. The stallions eyes widened fearfully and he jolted back in shock, 'c...coming' he yelled back. Shit shit shit 'hurry she already paged you, she's mad' he quickly forwarded the letter to a separate computer the one belonging to Absentia, a worker who died last week due to "a workplace accident". Then deleted his copy. He slipped out of his office and trotted agitatedly down the hall beside the dark green stallion with the dark grey mane and tail that called him, Oak Flight or something he thought his name was. They where on the third floor level almost with the top of the huge machine that dominated the centre of the facility. Wherever you where barring the bathrooms and a few secluded offices you could see the machine, like these psycos needed some sick representation of their crimes wherever they went, where they not haunted.
Hahahahah as if on cue maniacal laughter reverberated up from a lower floor 'I can't wait for the new batch... lets paint the world red.' Oak Flight sighed and paused to press a hoof to the security radio pinned to his shirt, 'Can someone inform Dr Calm Mind we've got another cracker sector four.' he said in a bored voice 'oh such pretty colours RAINBOWS' the cracked worker screamed then devolved into broken cackling and sobbing. They continued walking around the labyrinth of catwalks climbing higher, all the time attempting not to look at the the device for too long. It didn't matter that they where pegasi it wasn't uncommon for workers to fall into the blades though whether that was the call of the void or just a symptom of their quickly declining sanity was unclear.
Far too quickly they came to the door of the overmares office and knocked, 'enter' barked a ruff but distinctly female voice, they did. The sky blue mare sat on the far side of a desk waiting for them, 'hello worker'. 'Hello overmare' he replied knowing disrespect would cause what little hope he had left of his plan to succeed to fizzle and die. 'Sit' she snapped, he did 'I believe your loyalty to this company is questionable.' Buck buck buck 'Overmare I assure you that my loyalty is true' 'DON'T LIE TO ME' she screamed then took a deep breath. 'We know about your little messenger colt, Windflight was it', breath oh that wasn't good. Windflight was a mail pony, they took letters between the workers and their families with no knowledge of the inner facility. These letters where usually carefully checked before leaving but after giving Windflight some minor details in an accidental and risky encounter on the roof. He had arranged to meet with Windflight privately to give him the documents, he was a good young stallion, a fast flier, easily on track to be a Wonderbolt but non of that would save him from this. 'Who is Windflight?' he asked trying to keep the kid out of this. 'Your as bad a liar as Applejack' The rainbow maned mare sneered, 'Windflight is in our custody and he'll stay there, perhaps we can make a worker out of him? But if you stap out of line he...' A sudden knocking on the door interrupted her, 'WHAT? She yelled. 'I need a private word' a brown stallion stated formally in the resigned tone of a messenger aware they're about to die.
The pale blue mare stood and walked stiffly from the room anger practically rising from her coat like steam from boiling liquid. The door shut with a bang and Night Strike struggled to make out the conversation 'Tests...39...Scootaloo!'.