To Twilight Sparkle,

I have no words for the desolation I feel at this moment. I have spent so long trapped within this accursed Costco, trying to maintain the smallest shred of hope, but I fear it is slipping through my hooves like sand.

I have become something other—a cog in the machine, a mere employee. But it is not the work that breaks me. It is the darkening thoughts, the whispers that follow me as I roam the aisles, the invisible eyes that watch my every move. I feel them. I know they are there. Every moment I'm here, I am slowly being erased.

There is no escape. I have tried everything—magic, brute force, logic, and even faith. Yet, it is as if the very fabric of this place resists me, keeping me bound within its cursed walls. The shelves I stock are endless. The aisles stretch in impossible directions. The breaks I take are both too long and too short, leaving me in a never-ending loop. I am consumed by it.

But something new… something disturbing has entered my mind.

I have heard tales—whispered stories told by the employees when they think no one is listening. They speak of The Lost One—a deranged pony who once worked here, clad only in a thong, and whose mind, like mine, was consumed by the madness of this place. They say this pony escaped, that they broke free of the facility and now wander the world, lost in their own insanity.

The Lost One. They say this pony was the first to hear the slapping. That they followed it, until their mind broke beyond repair. They say that The Lost One is not a victim, but a tormentor, a force that roams the world, spreading chaos, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake. They say this pony's madness is infectious.

I do not know if these stories are true, but they haunt me. They have taken root in my mind, and now I hear the slapping—soft, distant, but growing nearer. Sometimes, it is in the aisles, sometimes it is in the breakroom, and sometimes, it is simply in my own thoughts.

I am beginning to wonder if I will become the Lost One—if I too will succumb to the madness, if I will start wearing a thong, if I will one day escape, wandering without purpose, lost to the slapping.

Twilight, I can feel it. I am so close to the edge, and I am afraid. I have lost myself. I fear I may never return to the pony I was.

But I must ask:

How is Celestia? Has she found peace? Has she found anything? Can you tell me that there is still hope left in this world? Because here, in this nightmare, I fear that I am losing it all.

Please, Twilight. Please tell me that there is something worth saving. Tell me there is something else beyond this madness.

Luna
Employee #0000, On the Brink of Losing All